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vinnyvamppp · 2 days ago

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Hey love you are a great writer so much so i had to request you to write a fic This story idea is super toxic This would never be a real scenario But I'm twisted so here's how it goes sinister mark or whom ever you choose is trying to study and girlfriend is just trying to get his attention kissing him, loving on him taking pictures with him and his snaps and accidentally hit her. He doesn't think that she will fight back though turning into this toxic love hate f$ck

You would be doing a great service (to me mostly😩)

Attention Hungry

NOTE: The person requested and the people have agreed! Typing this on my phone in staples while they fix my computer made me lose brain cells. Sorry in advance! Didn’t stray too far from the request. @nefertiti2003

Warnings: Rough Sex, Accidental Assault, Mild Choking, Mutual Orgasm, Hate Fucking, Power Imbalance, Pussy Eating, Dom!Invincible Variant, Power Bottom!Reader, Biting, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Love/Hate Relationship, Porn w a Plot, etc.

Sinister!Mark x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,072

Mark is at his desk, the glow of his tablet screen reflecting against the sharp angles of his face. His brows are furrowed in concentration, scanning lines of text faster than any normal person could. The lamp above casts long shadows, stretching across his strong frame, making him look even more unapproachable than usual. You should know better than to bother him when he’s like this. Focused. Distant. Untouchable.

But you never listen.

You step behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest against his back. His body is warm—too warm, like a furnace barely contained beneath his skin. A normal person would melt under the heat of him. You just take it as an invitation. “Mark,” you murmur against his ear, letting your lips brush against the skin just below it. He doesn’t react. Not at first.

You tighten your arms, fingers splaying over the solid muscle of his chest. “You’ve been sitting here forever.”

Nothing.

You try again, trailing your fingers up his neck, into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. His jaw tenses. Progress. A smirk tugs at your lips. “You’re really gonna ignore me?” Still nothing.

Alright then.

You grab his phone from the desk and spin away before he can snatch it back. “Smile,” you tease, pointing the camera at him. He doesn’t even glance up, still reading, as if you’re nothing but background noise. So you step closer, angling yourself into the shot, pressing against his arm. Click. The flash goes off, illuminating his sharp features, and his unreadable eyes. Blinding you in the process. That gets his attention.

It happens fast. Too fast.

A blur of movement—his hand shoots out. A hard impact. Your head jerks to the side. The sharp sting spreads across your cheek before you even register what happened. For a second, everything stops. Your breath catches. Your heart slams against your ribs. Mark’s hand hovers in the air where your face used to be, fingers still curled slightly from the slap.

You gasp. He blinks.

Then—he exhales sharply through his nose, something unreadable flashing behind those crimson-tinted eyes. A mistake? No, he doesn’t make those. His mouth parts like he’s about to say something, but you don’t give him the chance.

Your hand flies before you even think about it, striking him across the face just as fast. The crack of skin-on-skin reverberates through the room. His head barely moves. Your palm burns from the impact. It didn’t hurt, but he felt it. He shouldn’t have felt it, that means he was getting weak, it meant he had to show who was stronger, better in every way. And he would.

Silence. Heavy. Charged.

Slowly—too slowly—Mark turns his head back toward you. His tongue swipes over his lip, testing for blood. And then he grins. “Really?” His voice is low, amused. Dark. Your heart pounds, but you don’t step back. You can’t. The air between you is electric, suffocating, dangerous. His fingers flex, then relax. His eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate. He shifts in his chair, the movement lazy—like a predator just now deciding whether the thing in front of him is prey or something worth playing with first.

Then, with one hand, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down onto his lap. "Now you have my attention."

He seemed amused, if anything.

With a short huff, your wrist curled against his firm grip, yanking with all your might. Nothing. His fingers barely budged, the strength in his hold effortless, as if he wasn’t even trying to restrain you, just reminding you that he could. Your jaw clenched. “Let go.” Mark tilted his head, eyes glinting under the dim light. “Why?”

Your skin burned where he touched you. Not from pain—from frustration. From the way he always did this. Letting you squirm, watching you fight, like you were nothing but a passing entertainment. Like you didn’t even matter. “You don’t even care,” you snapped, struggling again. “I don’t know why I—” He cut you off with a low chuckle. “Why you what?” His grip loosened, but only enough for his fingers to slide down your forearm, keeping you anchored in place. “Keep coming back? Keep trying to get my attention?”

Your breath hitched, but you covered it up with a scowl. “You never bother with me, Mark.” Something flickered in his expression—brief, perhaps sympathetic, but it was gone. “You’re always off somewhere else,” you continued, voice sharper now. “Thinking, planning, doing whatever the hell you do. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me, unless I force you to. Like I’m a distraction.”

Mark sighed, as if this entire conversation was beneath him. “You are a distraction.” The words stung more than you wanted to admit. Your nails dug into his wrist. “Then why the hell are you still holding onto me?” His fingers flexed around your arm. A quiet, drawn-out moment passed before he leaned in, just slightly, breath warm against your skin. “Because,” he murmured, “you’re not boring.”

Your stomach twisted. You hated the way your body reacted to him—to this. With a sharp inhale, you pushed against his chest. “I should leave.” Mark didn’t stop you. Didn’t tighten his grip. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, arms dropping to his sides, leaving you free. Daring you. His eyes met yours, calm, knowing. “Then do it.” The room felt smaller, like the walls were closing in. Your muscles tensed. He watched and waited.

Seconds passed. Your heart pounded. You should leave. You should turn around, walk out the door, and never look back. But you didn’t move. Mark smirked. “That’s what I thought.” Your fingers curled into fists. “I hate you.”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head, dragging his gaze over you, slow, deliberate. “Funny. I hate you too.” Your chest rose and fell, breath shaky with something you refused to name. “Then let me go.” He exhaled through his nose, almost like a laugh, before reaching out. His fingers traced your jaw, gentle, too gentle before gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t think you want that,” he said, voice dropping an octave. “And I know I don’t.”

And just like that, you were pulled right back into his orbit.

You moved first, tilting your chin up, daring him, challenging him. His lips met yours in an instant, not gentle, not sweet—hungry. It was all heat and dominance, a battle for control that neither of you wanted to lose. His hand slid lower, fingers pressing into your skin, grounding you against him. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, meant to remind you exactly who he was—who you were dealing with.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "Still think you hate me?" You exhaled shakily. "More than ever." Mark’s grin was sharp, almost cocky. "Good."

He stood up abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. With a firm grip on your hips, he lifted you effortlessly, tossing you over his shoulder like a ragdoll. You yelped in surprise, the breath momentarily knocked out of you. You managed to gasp out as he carried you across the room, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He ignored your weak protested mumbles, his hand resting heavily on your ass as if to remind you of his dominance.

The bedsprings creaked as he threw you down onto the mattress, your body bouncing from the impact. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he was on top of you, his weight pinning you down. Your hands scrabbled at his chest, but he easily overpowered you, gripping your wrists and shoving them above your head.

His other hand found your throat, fingers curling around your slender neck. He applied just enough pressure to make you gasp, to remind you who was in control. His red eyes bore into yours, gleaming with a dark, feral hunger.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck, yes. Now give it to me." He released your wrists, only to grab the collar of your shirt. With a sharp tug, he tore the fabric open, sending buttons flying across the room. Your breasts bounced free, the cool air pebbling your nipples.

He wasted no time, ducking his head to inhale your sweet scent as his tongue teased your collarbones. He sucked hard, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pain and pleasure straight to your core. His hand roughly traced the curves of your figure, squeezing what he could. You arched into him, a moan escaping your lips. But he was already moving, trailing kisses down your stomach, pausing to flick his tongue against your navel. Lower and lower he went until his face was nestled between your thighs.

He breathed hotly against your core, the damp fabric of your panties the only barrier between you. With a low growl, he tugged them aside, exposing you to his hungry gaze. Without warning, he licked a long stripe up your slit, from entrance to clit, the wet heat of his tongue making you shudder. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing him closer, silently begging for more. He obliged, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard. At the same time, he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out, giving you little time to adjust.

Your hips bucked against his face, fucking yourself on his tongue and fingers. But he didn't let up, his grip on your thighs holding you in place as he feasted on your pussy like a starving man. "Jesus, Mark," you gasped, your head thrown back in ecstasy. "Don't. Fucking. Stop..."

You doomed yourself, his eyes meeting yours

But just as you were about to tumble over the edge, he delivered a harsh teething and pulled away, leaving you empty and aching. You groaned at the loss, but it was quickly silenced as he covered your mouth with his, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

You could feel his cock, hard and throbbing, pressing against your thigh. He ground against you, seeking friction, and you knew he was just as desperate as you were. With a snarl, he grabbed your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. He yanked your hips up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You barely had time to steady yourself before he was inside you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

You cried out at the sudden invasion, your walls stretching around his thick length. But he didn't give you time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that had the headboard slamming against the wall. Each thrust was harder than the last, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounded into you. The obscene sound of skin on skin filled the room, mixing with your muffled moans and his grunts of pleasure.

His hand found your hair, fisting the strands and pulling your head back. He leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear. Both of too far gone in the haze of pleasure to form coherent words. He seemed to take that as a yes, his thrusts becoming even more brutal.

You felt the pressure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each snap of his hips. Your legs began to tremble, your arms threatening to give out beneath you. "Come for me," he demanded, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. "Let me feel you come all over my cock." This time coming as a more of a plea.

And with that final command, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clamped down around him, fluttering and squeezing as wave after wave of ecstasy washed through you. Behind you, Mark let out a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. He buried himself deep one last time, spilling his release inside you with a shuddering groan.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both struggling to catch your breath. Finally, Mark slipped out of you, rolling onto his back and taking you with him. “We’re… not done yet, you fuck.” You sneered, and he obliged with a toothy grin. The tip of his cock rubbed gingerly against your lips as he parted the soft flesh. This is so dramatically written LMFAO.

#dom/sub #fanfic #sub and dom #writers on tumblr #mark grayson #invincible #mark grayson x reader #x reader #fem reader #smut #sinister mark #mark grayson x y/n #mark grayson x you #mark grayson smut #mark grayson invincible #mark graryson fanfic

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kikiwie · 2 days ago

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𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 ˚ ᰔ. ᵎᵎ

————————— 𐔌⋆🍊 ̟ ˚ !! 𐦯 —————————

first kisses with the haikyuu boys!

i. hajime ⊹₊⟡

since high school, you've known iwaizumi, and let's just say that you've always had feelings for him. you didn’t have the confidence to tell him, so you resorted to maintain your friendship with him.

ever since he began working as an athletic trainer, you would visit, and even though you weren't very good at volleyball, you still found it fun. mostly because it was with him.

he had just finished showing you how to hit a jump serve. when you last visited, you were taught how to do a standard serve. but you decided to improve.

he gave you instructions and occasionally corrected your form. "alright, so you keep tossing the ball too far away. try doing it this way." that was most likely the fifth time he had said that to you. but when his presence was too distracting, could he truly blame you? absolutely not.

you inhaled deeply and did your best to mimic everything he had shown you so far.

you had your eyes closed when you threw the ball up, then leaped and hit it. your breath got caught in your throat when you heard the ball bouncing on the other side.

you lips dropped open as you opened your eyes, and Iwaizumi gave you the same look. you rushed to him and into his arms as his eyes sparkled. “did you see that, iwa? i was really awesome, wasn't i? i’m surprised that i did it!”

he couldn't help but smile and gaze at you in admiration during your short rant. the way he was staring at you as you finished made you feel like you were going to die.

"hey, you're adorable. can i give you a kiss?" now, who were you to say no?

y. tadashi ⊹₊⟡

he asked you to spend the day with him. after getting some food from the nearby convenience store, you found yourself in the park. laughing and talking about how life has been overall.

this felt good since you haven't seen him in a long time and your college classes have been eating up all of your time. "you have to be joking! he didn't really tell him that, did he???” he was rambling on about an incident involving tsuki when he got into a fight with this random guy.

"oh, he most definitely did. we all knew he was an instigator, but that was crazy," said yams, laughing with you.

“i wish i could have been there, aw man." you let out a sigh and stopped laughing. it was bittersweet now. in high school, you would see them every day, but these days, you rarely ever see him, tsuki or yachi. you really missed them.

"you know that without you, school isn't the same." you couldn't really see his face because he was staring up at the sky, but you would think he was wearing a sad expression.

he stared down at you as you lay your head against his shoulder, and his heart began to race. his feelings for you were probably well known to everyone but you. although it might have been better that way.

"i also really miss you, yams."

before you broke the quiet, the both of you simply gazed at each other for a minute without saying anything. "maybe not just as a friend."

his face heat up and he thought he was dreaming. but you were there and you were real. the way you were both leaning in at the same time made it very clear that it was a mutual feeling.

s. eita ⊹₊⟡

he wanted to show you some new songs he's been working on for his band, which is why you came over to his house. he mentioned his appreciation for your feedback and asked how you felt about the song's progress or lyrics.

of course, you enjoyed hanging out with your best friend as well as listening to his music and learning about his recent activities. you were loving it so far when he played you the tune and a few of the lyrics to give you a sense of how it would go.

“was the song written by you? i like the lyrics.” he appeared anxious all of a sudden when you gazed up at him. "yes, I did. i’m glad you like them.”

"looks like you're going through it with this mystery person," you said with laughter. since you didn't see eita as often as you would have liked, you couldn't hold it against him that you didn't know he liked someone.

it may be because you’ve been his best friend, or it may have been the ache in your heart you’ve been trying to ignore since your high school days together, but the idea of you not knowing made you sad.

“yeah tell me about it," he scoffs, "she's kind of dumb and hasn't taken any hints." by then, you were so focused on the lined paper holding his lyrics that you were oblivious to the way he was staring at you.

he took the paper out of your hands and sat down next to you. "are you wondering who the song is about?" you just gave him a nod, and he gave you a look. "it’s about you, idiot."

“well i have another dumb question for you. can you kiss me?" you looked at him with a smile. he leaned down to get closer, whispering, “i thought you’d never ask."

h. shoyo ⊹₊⟡

in an effort to keep from crying, you mostly kept silent while you helped him pack to leave for brazil. it would be strange to not have him around, even though you knew he would return.

his heart clenched when you placed his belongings in the suit case in such a delicate and nice manner. the reality of not seeing each other for an unknown amount of time would sink in if he said something now. he was going to miss you so much.

sho felt especially bad since he loved you so much and was unsure of how he would manage without you. especially with how much you care about him.

there was nice conversation and nostalgic music playing during the drive to the airport. anxiety began to grip you both as soon as you got to the airport. despite his insistence that it was fine, you helped him in carrying his baggage.

you kind of thought that the line would be longer so you could spend more time together, but it wasn’t so you accepted it to avoid being a party pooper.

the difficult part, saying goodbye, came next. he turned to face you, and his eyes were filled with sadness. it was heartbreaking to see the joyful and vibrant person you knew leave.

as you both gave each other a hug, he gave you a back rub. "i’m going to miss you, so you better return a pro." you heard him laugh, and it was enough to make you feel a bit better. "don’t worry, i will. i’ll miss you too. i promise to text you, okay?”

his eyes traveled over your face as he drew back to gaze at you, but you could see that they were continuously looking down at your lips. you smiled, and he leaned to kiss you as if he could read your thoughts.

although it was new, you were aware that it was an unspoken promise that you would both wait for one another.

————————— 𐔌⋆🍊 ̟ ˚ !! 𐦯 —————————

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nanamimizz · 2 days ago

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BLOG ANNOUNCEMENT.

hiii everyone !!! happy sunday 🫶🏼 wherever it is that you are. i have some big news to share with you all and i know it will be met with some questions so i will try my best to answer all of them here in this announcement.

to start off - i am moving blogs. for the past two months or so i’ve had a hard and difficult time being on here as i’ve become hit with the harsh reality that my blog is a mess. i’ve tried to clean it up before in the past but those half assed attempts just made the problems worse than alleviating it. it’s too the point that i really can’t find anything ever and if i am having a hard time doing that i can’t imagine how it must be for others. the second reason why im moving blogs is because this blog feels far too big for me now, i’ve been on nanamimizz for 4ish years and it doesn’t feel like my safe space carved out for me by me.

i will always treasure nanamimizz, and everyone on here for the memories and the growth i’ve experienced on here with you all but i do think i need a fresh start. nanamimizz will not be deleted but simply archived - all my writing will be available and im not sure if my personal posts should be left up or not. i’m still deciding on that.

the new blog is still in the works, and it won’t be released for a bit nor will this move be immediate ! we have until one month from now - on April 23rd for the move !

i will be on a completely different blog with a completely different name. mutuals are more than welcome to dm both on here/discord and ask for the url which is up and i ask you to NOT share it with anyone else, anons who ask for it or other mutuals. to my readers i thank you all for joining on this journey and for finding joy in my craft.

it has been a honor and joy to be your little lamb these past few years and i hope you follow me into greener pastures <3

#lamb.talks #blog announcement #thank you all for everything <3 #feel free 2 rb also

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valacre · 1 day ago

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: ̗̀➛ Invisible Visitors

Sentinel Prime x Reader - Transformers One

The storm has passed, the lightning and the thunder a thing of the past, and yet, there is a creeping unease in the air. It is heavy, thick and uncomfortable, and Sentinel tries to think of it as just the humidity that lingers after heavy rainfall, but no, it is not that.

Still wrapped tightly within your blankets, Sentinel hums in slow awakening as he rubs his cheek against one of your pillows. The first time in your bed had been drastically different to what he had imagined, but it’d been warm and peaceful, nonetheless. Your scent surrounded him on all sides, and it helped in keeping him calm. You’d awoken long ago, anxious to tend to the chickens who had likely been terrified all night. The sound of them outside was reassuring, though Sentinel felt a twinge of jealousy as he heard you coo at them.

Ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.

It took great effort to leave the comforts of your bedroom, a sacred space in his optics that he’d been finally granted access to, but how much more after this night? It’d been a special situation; his processor and spark were so riddled with fear and love that he’d been a complete mess. You’d had no other choice than to take him with you to bed. He was not ashamed to admit that he didn’t regret how clingy he’d been when you finally laid down together.

A few unsteady steps down your narrow staircase he finally found his way outside again, seeing the world completely different than what it’d been last night. The sun was up, the sky clear of clouds, the wind a gentle but cold breeze.

Something clucked by his pedes and Sentinel looked down to see your fattest chicken pecking at the dirt, Isabella. Her white and brown feathers ruffled as she glanced up at him, the twitchy movement of her head amusing to look at. Without thinking, Sentinel picked her up and nestled her in the crook of his arm before approaching the chicken coop; nestled safely between two great trees which had little to no trouble with harsh winds, their giant roots digging deep and far for support.

You stood amongst the chickens, throwing feed over the ground for them to search and eat, smiling a little as you watched them scamper. The grumpy rooster watched Sentinel closely as he approached, the brute not at all liking him. For Sentinel, the feelings were mutual.

“How are you feeling?” You ask, hearing him approach.

“Better.” He said, setting Isabella down to allow her to eat. “I’m not crying like a sparkling anymore, at least.”

Shooting him a small smile, you give him the basket full of food for the chickens, urging him to throw it out for them. He does, and they go wild, flapping their wings and cooing excitedly. It made him smile a little.

“Wonderful, that means you’ll be ready to help me fix the barn today.”

“Oh… Actually, I feel a little faint. My processor is filled with fog and my frame aches. I must have come down with the rust plague, can you see any of it on me?” He asks, feigning fainting as he dramatically leans into you, nearly crushing you as you grunt in surprise at the sudden weight.

“Oh, stop it, you drama queen.” You huff and heave him up onto his legs, shocking him with your strength. A questionable look is shot your way, but you only return it with a smirk. “What? I might have a bad back, but my arms are quite strong.” And flexing your arms you catch his faceplate flushing at the sight of your muscles. It almost looks like he’s going to swoon. “Huh, impressed?”

“What?” Shaking his helm, he sends you an unimpressed look instead. “Well, I’ve seen better.”

“Uh-huh?” Grinning and raising a brow, you urge him to finish feeding the chickens as you go towards the barn. “Come and meet me in a bit. You’re going to help me with reinforcing the walls and the roof. Last night’s storm didn’t break anything, but if nothing is done then you’ll find yourself homeless before you know it.”

“Or I could just live inside with you?”

“Fat chance.”

“Ooh, so I have a chance, and it sounds like it’s fat too.”

“It’s cute how you think you’re funny.”

Wings bristling at your comment he hears you cackle as he chucks the basket your way, seeds going flying and you jumping out of the way, laughing harder. The chickens scramble after the scattered seeds and Sentinel grumbles as he goes to follow you, mumbling incoherent words in Cybertronian. He jumps in surprise as Isabella suddenly comes flapping up towards him; hysterical and screeching, though calming once he holds her.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks her, though he knows he’ll receive no reply. She only looks around, her head twitching, eyes focused on the forest on the other side of the meadow across your farm. Optics focusing on the darkness beneath the canopy of the trees, he sees a shape standing; motionless.

A deer.

Sentinel snorts and looks down at Isabella again, ready to mock her cowardly nature but she jumps off before he can, scrambling back towards the chicken coop along with her sisters. They are all stressed and on edge.

“What’s happening over there?” You call from the barn, voice faint as you’re inside looking for tools.

“Just the chickens being afraid of nothing.” He says in reply, resuming his walk towards the barn but looking towards the forest as he does so. The deer remains where he first noticed it, motionless and still as a statue, black eyes staring. Odd, perhaps it is afraid of him.

Noon faded and all too quickly became the late evening. Blackness steadily fell upon the land and Sentinel groaned in annoyance at the wood dust coating his frame. He desperately needed a wash, though an oil bath sounded heavenly, but alas, he would not have that luxury but instead found himself on the other end of your garden hose.

“That water is freezing.” He complained and kept his optics shut as you hosed him down, chuckling as you pointed the stream this way and that. “I demand a proper shower in the barn.”

“Once we’ve finished the walls and the roof we can think about a shower for you.”

Sentinel opened his optics in surprise, though he quickly closed them again as water sprayed across his faceplate, making him frown in displeasure. “You’re doing that on purpose!”

“Maybe.” You say, grinning and turning off the water. “Don’t worry, we’ve finished cutting all the boards. We’ll get working with them once we’ve finished with the minor details on the roof tomorrow, and then we may begin on the inside with insulation and detailing. Maybe you’ll even get yourself a proper shower before winter ends.”

“Your tone is teasing. I hardly believe that will happen in the next few months.”

“Hah, you have no faith in me, and here I thought I might drive to the nearby town to get you some paint and polish as a reward for being so nice. Tsk, oh well—”

“Wait! No, really?” His optics are wide and hopeful even as droplets of icy water trickle and drip from his frame, and he approaches with an eager expression, though you step back to avoid getting wet. “Will you do that for me?”

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” You say, smiling at him as his optics soften and he smiles so sweetly it pulls at your heart. It made you feel warm inside; fuzzy. He’s cute.

“Embrace me, angel.” Sentinel suddenly said, smirking mischievously and quickly leaning forward. You scamper away with a curse and a yell, sprinting away and rounding the corner as you half-yell, half-laugh at his antics. He can’t help but laugh, too.

Moving to follow you, Sentinel briefly stops as his frame prickles and a sense of unease fills his processor, forcing him to look out past the trees of your back garden and towards the meadow. The deer. It has moved into the open and is easily spotted by him from between the few trees in your back garden.

It stands as it did when he spotted it between the trees of the forest, still as a statue, black eyes staring. However, now that it is closer, Sentinel can see that something is wrong with it. Its skin appears loose like it’s barely clinging onto its bones, and it’s stiff with its head turned unnaturally to the side.

There’s only the sound of the wind in the air. No birds.

Sentinel’s servo twitches and he focuses his optics on the deer, studying it. If it's diseased he must keep it away from your farm lest it harms either you or your precious chickens, but the deer don’t appear to mind him staring back at it. Its eyes don’t leave him, and that is when Sentinel notice how glassy they appear. Non-organic.

“God, you spooked me.” Came your voice and Sentinel nearly leapt out of his frame as he turned to see you peeking out from behind the corner of your house. You raised a brow at him, coming out a little. “You got so quiet I figured you were hiding so you could jump me.” You say, shaking your head.

Sentinel looks back towards the meadow, prepared to tell you about the deer, but it’s gone.

It’s gone.

Previous / Next Music: Vangelis – Création du monde (Remastered) & Ethel Cain – Perverts

#maccadam #transformers #tfone #tfone sentinel #sentinel prime #sentinel prime x reader #vala writes #A New Life

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lowrisemiller · 15 hours ago

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she keeps me up 𐚁₊⊹

no outbreak!joel x fem!reader

chapter 2- job benefits

chapter 1

summary- Reader applies for a babysitting job, only to discover the father is Joel—the guy she recently had a fling with. Despite the surprise, they agree on the arrangement while acknowledging their mutual attraction. Later, she officially meets Joel’s daughter, Sarah, as she prepares for her first day on the job.

word count- 2.8k

a/n- hey!! so happy with how this is goin so far, I've planned out how the whole story is goin go and I released a masterlist along with a playlist and a little Pinterest board :) alsoooo I will be adding this to my ao3 account soon when I figure it out lol my tag on ao3 is millervika555 -sweetgirl out <333

p.s. you can imagine any joel miller but i’m writing sarah from the hbo series:)

warnings- SMUT YALL some finger action, grinding, and smooches. cursing and I think that's it. small mentions of divorce

“I am in need of a babysitter for my 10 year old daughter. I am a divorced parent who got promoted at work and will not be able to be there for my little girl as much as I used to. Looking for a young adult with a basic schedule.”

Seems simple enough.

I pulled up to the house. It was cute. In a suburban little neighborhood not too far from Round Up actually. This made me ache a bit but I had to get it together.

I put on my best customer service smile and knocked on the door.

When it opened I gasped and nearly fell to my knees.

It was fucking Joel.

I could feel my face heat up as I stood there and stared. He was standing there in all his beautiful broad glory staring at me with wide eyes.

“Sweetheart?” Joel asks in the softest tone ever. I almost forgave him for not texting me all this week. Almost. But there were bigger things to worry about now.

“Joel... are you the parent in need of a babysitter?” I finally spoke even though it came out a little shaky.

He nodded and opened his door further motioning for me to come in.

I walked in after him. I could feel the warmth radiating off of him as I passed him. It took my breath away.

Gosh get it together. You barely know the guy. But boy is he dreamy.

I finally took the chance to look around his home. Cozy and big. Framed photos are found on every surface, his little girl was cute. They share the same smile and the same eyes.

“So... is she here? Your daughter?” I decided to break the silence.

“Nah she’s at her mother’s.” He said while leaning on the counter now. His white t-shirt stretched across him so good.

I give a tight lipped smile and nod.

“Do you wanna drink darlin’?” I looked up at his face.

I nod my head up and down. He hands me a glass of water.

“Thanks, so are you actually gonna interview me or is it gonna be weird between us?” I needed to know. I couldn’t do this dancing around each other shit. If I don’t get the job, oh well now I can have a nice fling on the side with a dilf.

But if I do get the job does that mean we pretend that we didn’t make out against the wall at Round Up? Or we sneak around hoping his sweet baby girl doesn’t see?

He leans back against his counter and sighs. Hot.

“Darlin’ I like ya I really do. And sorry for not textin’ ya I meant to but the whole thing at work had me busy.” That made me smile over the rim of the glass.

“If you’re willing to still watch Sarah, my daughter, I’ll pay ya and everythin’ obviously but… I would like to keep seein’ ya outside of this…arrangement. If that’s alright with ya. I can always find someone else to—”

I slammed the glass against the counter. I really need the extra cash.

“No! I mean uh no, apart from… us I do really need the extra cash and I used to babysit all throughout high school. I genuinely enjoy doin, kids tend to gravitate towards me and if it seals the deal I’m in college to become a teacher.” I smile triumphantly.

His eyes widened but he calmed then he smiled.

“And… I also would like to keep seein ya. I heard our song playin on the radio twice this week. I was restless and needed to see ya again. Almost considered goin back to Round Up to track ya down.” I chuckled

His smile widened.

“Wow sweetheart, that’s amazin’ so what’s your schedule usually look like so we can figure this out.”

He stood next to me now. He feels so warm and I’m not even touching him. He smells earthy and faintly like wood. Probably from his contractor job.

Morning classes Mon-Wed

Work in the afternoon until 3 ⤷ watch Sarah until 8 or 9

Tues-Thurs work until 6

Every other Friday work ⤷ watch Sarah 10am-9pm

It worked perfectly. Since Joel got promoted as manager he can leave earlier on some days but two days out of the week he has to stay later and work/fill out paperwork. A new addition to his job.

With my classes and job at the cafe we made it work.

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya sweetheart.” He said leaning in really close to me, his hand stroking my forearm. Talking business almost made me forget the lingering tension— almost.

“So uh Wednesday at 3:30?” I wanted to diffuse the tension but it was palpable. I look at him and he’s already looking at me.

“Mhm sounds good, you in a hurry to leave darlin’?” I nodded my head side to side slowly. Truly not wanting to leave. He smirked. Smug little grin.

God what am I getting myself into?

“Do you like beer?” He moved to his refrigerator. “Yeah I can drink a beer.” It was at 2 o’clock but surely it’s 5 o'clock somewhere.

And with that we walked to his patio.

Two hours later…

The night had settled into a comfortable silence, the kind that only came when two people were aware of every small movement, every shift in the air. The beers had flowed, and the conversation had veered from business to casual banter, but that electric undercurrent between us had never faded. It was like a magnet, pulling us closer without either of us fully acknowledging it.

I sat back in the chair, trying to keep my mind from wandering into dangerous territory. The soft clink of his beer bottle being set down broke the silence, and when I turned, I found him watching me—no, studying me. His gaze was intense, his eyes dark in the dim light.

I shifted uncomfortably, but the tension felt…different now. It was no longer just playful; it was heavier.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, darlin’,” he said, his voice low, teasing, but with a hint of something more. “Not like you.”

I let out a short laugh, though it sounded more nervous than I intended. “I’m just enjoying the company.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up into that smug grin again. “You sure about that? Or are you just trying to ignore the fact that I’m damn good at making you squirm?”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just shook my head, trying to hide my smile. The man knew how to read me like a book.

“So, uh,” I said, trying to change the subject, “Wednesday at 3:30, right?” I wanted to stick to business—maybe if I kept it professional, I could fight the growing urge to lean in closer.

“Mhm,” he replied, but his eyes never left mine. “Thought you weren’t in a rush to leave, sweetheart?”

I hesitated, biting my lip. The thought of leaving, of ending this strange and intoxicating night, felt wrong. The music playing softly from his house mixed with the humid air, and the last thing I wanted to do was leave. I shook my head slowly, a half-truth that I was only half aware of.

“You don’t mind staying a little longer, do you?” he asked, his tone a mix of casual curiosity and something more daring.

I looked at him, my breath hitching at the way he leaned in just a little bit closer, his body language so damn sure of itself. It made my chest tighten, and my mind buzzed with the possibilities of what could come next.

“No, I’m not in a hurry,” I admitted, voice soft, but loud enough for him to hear.

His smirk deepened, and there was that look again—that knowing glint in his eyes. He moved closer, until there was only a sliver of space between us. The air around us seemed to grow heavier, like the moment was pulling us toward something we both knew was inevitable.

“You sure about that?” he murmured, his breath brushing against my cheek.

Before I could respond, his hand was on my knee, steady and warm, sending a shock of heat straight through me. I froze, my pulse quickening. The touch was subtle, but it felt like a challenge, a question that needed an answer.

I opened my mouth to say something, but all that came out was a shaky breath. His hand slid higher, just enough to make me shiver, and that was all it took. My hand found its way to his chest, my fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my touch.

“Maybe I’m just waiting for you to make the first move,” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of nerves and excitement.

He didn’t hesitate. His lips crashed against mine, hard and demanding, pulling me toward him until there was no space left between us. My heart raced as I kissed him back with equal force, my hands sliding up to his shoulders, tugging him closer, the heat of the kiss overwhelming.

He groaned, low and deep, his grip tightening on my knee as he deepened the kiss. It was a slow burn that ignited something inside me, something I hadn’t expected to feel tonight. I pulled away just long enough to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so instead, I just shook my head, unable to tear my gaze away from him. There was no going back now. And honestly? I didn’t want to.

His gaze flicked down to my lips before locking back on my eyes, the air between us thick with unspoken words. He leaned in again, slow this time, as though he was savoring every second, every inch getting closer. I held my breath, unsure of what to do, but he was pulling me in, making the choice for me.

When his lips brushed against mine this time, it was softer—gentle, almost teasing, but it didn’t take long for the teasing to melt away. His hand slid from my knee to my thigh, his touch sending another shock of heat through me. I shuddered slightly at the way his fingers pressed into my skin, as if marking his place, claiming me with every movement.

I couldn’t help it. I needed more. My hands found their way to his chest again, pushing the fabric of his shirt aside, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath. He groaned at the pressure, his hands sliding to my waist, tugging me closer. Our bodies fit together with an ease I hadn’t expected, like we were two pieces of the same puzzle.

The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, and my heart pounded so hard against my ribs I thought it might burst. Every thought in my head had faded, leaving only the sensation of him—his lips, his hands, his breath hot against my skin.

I pulled away for a second, breathless, and his lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear. I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I leaned into him, unable to stop myself.

"God, you feel..." His voice was low, rough, and it sent a thrill through me. "I can’t get enough of you."

My pulse quickened, and before I could stop myself, I pulled his face back to mine, kissing him again, harder, as if the kiss itself would silence every doubt, every lingering hesitation. His hands roamed lower, slipping under the hem of my shirt, his touch sending sparks across my skin.

I let out a soft breath, my body leaning into him with no room for hesitation now. I wasn’t thinking anymore. It was just instinct, pure and raw. He paused for a moment, his lips hovering just above mine, his breath ragged.

"You sure you’re okay with this?" he asked, his voice a little strained but still full of that same smoldering intensity.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I nodded. "Yeah."

He kissed me again, this time with an intensity that left me reeling. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, urging him to take the kiss as deep as it could go. He responded instantly, his hands now roaming freely, as if they were discovering every inch of me for the first time.

I let out a small breathy laugh against his mouth, the sound teasing, light despite everything going on inside me. “You really know how to make a girl forget about time, don’t you?”

His lips were inches away from mine, the smirk on his face unmistakable. "It’s a gift."

His lips met mine again, pulling me deeper into this world where there were no distractions, no consequences, just the magnetic pull between us that neither of us was willing to resist anymore.

Things were getting heated.

I’m on his lap now we’re still making out, his hands are roaming under my shirt and I was grinding down on his jeans.

He was hard. He felt big too. I know this can’t go much further because we’re outside but with his mouth and his hands it didn’t feel like Joel cared all that much.

“Joel…” I couldn’t help the whine that escaped my throat.

“Yeah baby?” Oh my gosh his voice was somehow raspy and smooth all at the same time. His voice could do it for me.

But that’s a can of worms for another day.

“I-I need ya… please” I sounded so pathetic. “Aw honey you’re so good usin’ manners” Joel mumbles in my neck.

Joel adjusted me on his lap so I was sitting up right on his thick thighs. He started unbuttoning my jeans. “Is this okay sweetheart?”

I nodded. His hand slipped under the denim. I could feel the slick that pooled in my panties. His warm hands rubbing me over the front of them.

I moaned lowly. “Joel- what if someone sees?” I nervously ask.

“Don’t gotta worry, it’s just you and me baby. But you gotta be a little quiet okay?” I nodded again.

“Ah—

Joel hears you let out a gasp when he slides in the tip of his middle finger—your walls welcoming him almost immediately. I moan his name as quietly as I can.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he groans. “You’re so wet— I could get used to this.”

He smirks up at me. But I don’t pay attention to his smug expression.

His fingers hit that spot I can never reach with my own fingers.

Before I could help it, my back was arching into him and I was shaking slightly.

“Joel— M’gonna come,” Joel groaned and started leaving little kisses and bites along my throat as he pumped his fingers into me faster.

“Come f’me baby c'mon I want to feel ya.” He pulls his face away to look at me.

“Just relax,” he whispers. “I got you, baby. Always got you.”

That did it. I came with a quiet cry, I shoved my face in his chest and rode out the waves of my orgasm.

“Yeah baby, did so good f’me. That’s it just lay there I got ya.” He murmured into my hair.

He helped me get myself situated and walked me to my car. I was a little upset. I couldn't help him out but that’s for next time…

Wednesday 3:00 pm

I just got back to my apartment from work. I want to take a quick shower and change before I meet Sarah and watch her for a few hours.

I settled on a simple black tank top and some jeans, wanting to be comfortable but still appropriate.

From what Joel told me the other night, Sarah is an intelligent ten year old girl he had at a very young age. He and his ex wife pay child support and Sarah goes every other week.

Reminds me of my childhood. Mine was messier though.

I arrived at the Miller residence. Joel’s truck is here so I walk up and knock on the door.

“Hey sweetheart was just about to call ya, Sarah just got home.” He stepped aside for me to come in, I thanked him and walked inside.

“Honey! She’s here”, Joel shouts by the stairs.

The little girl comes walking down the stairs, her coiled curls bouncing with every step she takes.

“Go say hi sweetie.” Joel urged his daughter. I squatted down to get on her level so she feels more comfortable.

“Hey Sarah”, I introduced myself and held out my hand.

She shook my hand. “Hi Sophia! You’re really pretty,” she said quickly.

“Aw thank ya hun that was really sweet of you, so what do ya wanna do when your daddy leaves?” I asked, still crouched down in front of her.

“Hmm, can we watch Jurassic Park?” I smiled, shocked she watches films like that but nodded anyway.

“I’d love to.” I stood up and looked at Joel. He was smiling warmly at his daughter.

“Yall have fun but not too much fun”, he said kissing Sarah’s cheek and ruffling her hair.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel tlou #no outbreak au #no outbreak!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedrohub #tlou #tlou hbo #sarah tlou #sarah miller #making out #she keeps me up

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theodore-windsor · 13 hours ago

Text

Can you bring my stuff?

The text rippled across the screen and Theo swiped his phone open to the thread. Three dots appeared, the sender was still typing. Theo waited. “No way I’m going back to hell. lol.” Theo haha’ed the message and then responded: No worries, dad. I got you.

It wasn’t like Theo’s day consisted of a hectic schedule. He could easily run to their childhood house to gather the things his father had left behind. After all, he didn’t blame his dad for getting the hell out of there and never looking back, especially after his confession.

Theo finished his breakfast, taking his time to enjoy it. There was no rush. He wanted to make sure his mother was gone from the house before his arrival. After he showered and dressed for the day, he finally pocketed his phone and grabbed his keys, making a quick exit from his flat. The drive over was drowned out by the music that blasted his speakers and before he knew it, he was staring up at the house with trepidation. His last visit here was when his parents sat him and Blaire down to inform them of their divorce.

He slipped the key in the front door and turned it, unlocking the mechanism. A moment later, he was staring into the foyer, boxes of his dad’s things were stacked neatly against the wall. Blythe could never stand a mess. Theo took amusement in the fact that dad’s big secret had to come as a surprise to her. Good. She needed her picture perfect life shaken up.

Maybe Theo was a little bitter. It was hard not to be when you had Blythe as a mum. Well, Blaire wasn’t, he reminded himself as he started shoving boxes into the trunk of his car. Blaire was a ray of sunshine. The brightest light in his world. She was as perfect as perfect could be in his eyes. His heart felt a pang of anxiety. He always worried about Blaire, especially when their mum had her claws so deep into Blaire's life. Fucking bitch, Theo thought and stiffled a sigh. He had the last box in his hands and he was halfway to his vehicle when Blythe appeared in the driveway, having just parked her car.

“What are you doing here?” Blythe asked her son, shoving her keys into her purse now that the front door was already unlocked and wide open. She wasn’t happy to see him. And the feeling was mutual.

Theo gave her an annoyed expression, giving the box a shake. “Getting dad’s shit. You know, for his new house… with his boyfriend.” Theo took a bit too much pride in this jab. He hated the person he became whenever in the presence of Blythe… but he couldn’t help himself. The man placed the final box in his car and shut the trunk. “I’ll be going now,” he said in a gentler tone.

Theo almost made it to his door before his mum’s nauseating, shrill of a voice reached his ears. “Blaire’s getting married, you know.” There was pride in this announcement, but also something else…excitement, perhaps? But in Theo’s eyes, it wasn’t for Blaire. It was for herself and the opportunity this gave her. “And then there’s you,” she added, sighing with disappointment. “No engagement. Hell, you’re not even dating. You don’t even have a proper job.”

Theo slammed his hand on the hood of his car and stormed over to where his mum was. He stopped right in front of her, his finger being pointed in her direction. “You listen here,” he began, narrowing his eyes at her as he tried to keep his composure. “Blaire is engaged. Blaire is getting married. Not you. So unless she asks you for your advice or opinion, you shut your trap.” Blythe looked appalled but before she could respond, he continued, “You stay out of her business. Don’t spam her with phone calls or texts. Don’t show up to her place unannounced. And don’t even try to wear white to the engagement party.” Theo snapped this last part, because it wasn’t too far fetched for her. He glared at her, shaking his head, before throwing a look towards the house that never felt like home to him. Blythe scoffed and stormed off to the house without a word to her son.

Oh, he hated her. Truly and deeply. Theo never thought he was capable of hatred, but he was. Solely for Blythe. The hatred ran deep. Partly for himself, naturally. The criticism he endured growing up had left a scar on his mentality. He struggled with perfection and goals and love. But the bigger part of his hatred towards her was for her treatment of his baby sister. Theo hated the impact Blythe had on Blair. The last thing he wanted was for his sister to be ruined by her the way he was.

#theo x 3

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freaky-dan · 2 days ago

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Thank You

Howdy! I just wanted to thank all of my followers, mutuals, and friends for helping me get so far in my online journey. When I first started this account, I thought i'd only get like- 20 followers MAX. But here I am almost to 100. I'm not there yet but I still wanted to thank everyone who's been following me and interacting with my stuff. All of you have inspired me in so many ways and driven me to improve, you can definitely see the difference between some of my earlier stuff from back in April and my more recent posts. Whenever I do hit 100 followers i'll draw a big thing but for now, i've made a little piece I've been super excited to share with you all.

Thank you @flordosmuros @typoraccoon @sillygoofyart @unbranded-chaos @cleffers @joen-lenawley @tattercat-irl @cheesepenguin @slinkysolinsky @sincerecinnamon @justa-snake @aquakat-draws @sammydiesin3days @ballsmacker30 and @arch1e-r0b0tt for being awesome moots (sorry if I couldn't fit everybody's pfp in there)

Like I said, i'll post a big thing once I officially hit 100 followers but I just wanted to let everyone know i'm so thankful to be able to say i've met some absolutely awesome people on here.

(insert end credits)

not going anywhere though, this is very "last post" esque but y'all are stuck with me >:)

#no homo

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pondslime · 3 days ago

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sacramentum

FANDOM : midnight mass (2021) PAIRING : father paul hill x afab!fem!reader RATING : explicit 🔞 WORDCOUNT : 17.3k

Reader POV. Seeking peace and a sense of self, you pack up your life and move to a small fishing village in the Pacific Northwest.

You're not prepared for what you find there.

Read on AO3 here.

🔔 Only including an excerpt of the first thousand or so words under the cut, as Tumblr formatting hates longwinded porn!

Canon-divergent. Takes place in an alternative version of Episodes 1-4.

Blasphemy and filth fueled by religious guilt and repression. Hierophilia. Reader is agnostic and has no prior ties to the Catholic Church. Mutual pining (but make it weird). Having horny thoughts about a priest (and Christianity in general). Lots of yearning and pondering. Second person.

⚠️ Canonical animal death is mentioned. Blood-laced communion wine is given to the reader without her knowledge. Implied/referenced drug addiction (if you tilt your head slightly to the left). Age gap (20/30-something malaise and mental unwellness featured throughout). Dubious consent and coercion. Reader has no idea what she's gotten herself in for. Honestly, neither does he. ⚠️

When the smut rolls around: Body worship and oral (reader receiving). Soggy sub-leaning behavior from Peepaw Monsignor Father Paul. Because we deserve it. Weird sensory overload vampire sex. Lots of religious themes and motifs.

What can I say? 'Cause this is his body, this is his love. Such selfish prayers and I can't enough. Or whatever.

And I will pour upon you clean water, and you shall be cleansed from all your filthiness, and I will cleanse you from all your idols.

And I will give you a new heart, and put a new spirit within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and will give you a heart of flesh.

Ezekiel 36:25-26

The thing in the grass sees you far before you see it.

Later, you’ll find yourself wondering just how long it was watching you. It doesn’t really matter. Long enough.

Right now, you’re trying to count. It shouldn’t be that hard. Part of you knows that, but the other part doesn’t seem to be paying attention. Your brain does that sometimes—slips a bit, gives up halfway through.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6—

You’ve gotten to seven again when you finally catch a glimpse of it. It’s barely much of anything, just a flicker of movement in your periphery. By that point, it’s already making its way towards you. The grass rustles furiously as it moves, tunneling its way into your full attention. You watch curiously as a head erupts out of the stalks.

It’s a cat.

The realization comes with a sting. Spitting a curse out, you drop the knife. The price of your distraction bubbles to the surface of your finger, bright red and angry. A few drops of it speckle the orange slices you’ve been cutting.

Out the window, the cat is still watching you.

A thought flashes wryly in your mind. If you’re trying to make a habit out of injuring yourself, you might want to schedule it around the ferries. You imagine it coming from the cat, doused in unimpressed feline judgment.

Rinsing your hand off under the tap, you inspect the damage. It’s nothing to be worried about—just a shallow cut—but those were the ones that bled the most. Even now, you could see a fresh bead of red blooming on your skin.

Popping one of the tarnished oranges in your mouth, you head to the bathroom to fish in the medicine cabinet. The bandages you have aren’t big enough for the gash, but you lay one on top of it anyway, smoothing the edges out.

You’ll be more careful next time.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6—

It makes sense that your favorite is what throws off the count. Seven was a good number. The best number, really. Lucky.

You’d chosen to move on the seventh month of the year, seven years into a job that was only as good as it was good enough. You’d been fine. Managing. Navigating adulthood seemed to amount to nothing more than days spent playing connect-the-dots between headaches, shaking ibuprofen into your palm.

Throughout it all, seven had been there, tucked into addresses, stamped onto licensed plates—seemingly assigned to you in particular.

In this sea of banality, there was a small thrill to the idea of something that existed solely for you.

Overhead, the sky is an icy blue, darted through by clouds that look like wrung out dishtowels. Making your way down the front steps, your bag thumps dully against your thigh.

You’re thinking in numbers again. Counting steps, doors.

Salt hangs in air, blasted back against the faded paint of the buildings. Husks of them sit like dried-out cicada shells, brittle and abandoned. With no one to fill them, they seem to blur into the backdrop of the island—stationary outcroppings of the land, just as still as the boulders along the beach.

Here and there, whispers of chimney smoke curl into the air. They were stubborn declarations of life—made by equally stubborn people. Each came from families that felt as old as the ground under your feet, generations on generations whittled down over time. Their faded American flags jut out from front porches, battered folding chairs sitting in overgrown yards. They were here to stay, for better or for worse.

You shiver. There’s an unmistakable chill present in the air, making you regret leaving your gloves at the house. The wind stings your face as you turn the corner. It’s cold out here and it’s only to grow colder still. You wonder if you’ll ever get used to it. You hope you will. After all, this was home now.

For-ever, for-now? You weren’t quite sure yet.

Months into your assumed ownership of the house, unpacked boxes still sit in your living room. Your walls are still bare. The wind chimes you bought are languishing in a plastic bag under the sink. It’s hardly much of a home, but you’ll get to it, you will. That line of thinking works for a bit, but promises of tomorrow have the habit of extending into the next week, and then the week after that. Now, it all just felt like a vague hint of eventually, bookended with maybe.

You weren’t sure why you’d thought that moving here would imbue you with some great sense of motivation. The whole place seemed antithetical to that sort of thing. Things just moved slower out here. It was difficult to feel rushed. Whatever urgency Crockett might have had was just as weatherbeaten and tired as the houses that lined the road. You look at them as you walk, balling your hands into fists and shoving them into your coat pockets.

There are small victories, though, you remind yourself. Minor progress. Finally having run out of clean clothes, you’ve had to give up living out of your suitcase. Your hand was forced, of course, but it was something.

You change direction, stepping off the path.

Down at the edge of the shore, someone is walking slowly along the water.

Your eyes alight on a large piece of driftwood, bleached bone white on the sand. You’d claimed it as your own a few weeks in—easy to do on a beach as lonesome as this one. Sitting down, you pull out your book, giving the cover a cursory glance before opening it. It’s the same one you’ve been starting-stopping-starting again the entire time you’ve been here.

You’re a few paragraphs in, fingertips starting to numb in the cold, when the distraction hits. The words feel tired, on this, your thousandth time attempting to read them. Your eyes slip down the page, scrambling the letters into a cluttered mass of black scribbles.

Twisting your head away from the incomprehensible blur, you find yourself staring at a beached boat. It sits lopsided on a tangle of long yellow reeds, windows coated with a thick sheen of sand. A bent fishing cage sits on its bow, sea grass collecting under it. Despite the debris, it’s difficult to gauge just how long it might have been marooned for. After all, everything eventually ended up looking like that out here.

You can just about make out a number painted on the side of the hull, faded and dull.

“Pardon me, young lady.” Startled out of your thoughts, you look up. An elderly man stands in front of you, clutching his hat in his hands. He’s the one you saw down by the water when you arrived.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” The breeze upsets his hair, whipping white strands of it around his head. “I hope you’ll give grace to a very old man if he’s incorrect.”

You came here for isolation and you’re finding anything but. People seek you out, they want to know you—or rather, know of you. Where you’re from, how long you’re planning on staying. Why you chose this place, out of all the places.

“No, you’re right.” You give him a polite smile, closing your book. “I just moved here.”

“May I?” He gestures at the space on the log next to you.

“Absolutely.”

You watch with anticipatory concern as he slowly shuffles forward. He lists to the right, carefully bracing his hand on the wood. With a groan, he finally lowers himself down beside you.

“Would you do me the privilege of telling me your name?” he asks. “Young lady of whom I’ve never met?”

You tell him and he gives a decided tut, as if he’s committing it to memory.

“What’s yours?” you ask.

He seems to consider the question deeply, his brow creasing in concentration. Letting out a breath, he drums his fingers absently on his knee.

“John,” he finally says. “There’s a whole lot of—” he gestures vaguely out in front of him, his mouth pulling into an unimpressed frown. “—hoopla after the John. Before the John, too. But you know, I, uh, I can’t be bothered with all that today. Today, well…” his words trail off. “Today I’d very much like to be John. Just John.”

“You’ve got it, Just John.”

“A young lady with a sense of humor,” he chuckles. You follow his gaze as it drifts back to the ocean. Gulls dip and dart in the air above the waves, barely more than specks of white in the distance. “Now that’s something quite special.”

The silence that settles around both of you is a tranquil one, full of the rush of waves and the chirps of bird song. He’s very still beside you, staring out at the water. The moment hangs, extends. He blinks slowly, mumbling something under his breath. You almost feel as if he’s forgotten you’re there.

You wait. Eventually, you lower your eyes, flipping your book open. You manage to get to the end of the chapter before he speaks again.

“I must confess, I did have ulterior motives for coming out here today,” he says conversationally, as if no time has passed. “If I’m to be perfectly frank, young lady, I’m quite the suspicious character.”

“Is that true?” You look over at him, raising your brows.

“Oh, yes,” he replies brightly. Lowering his voice, his tone takes on a playfully conspiratorial edge. “I’m on the run today, actually.”

“From the law?” You smile.

“Sometimes it does feel like that,” he sighs. “No. My pursuers are, um, very kind people. Quite well-meaning.”

“So why’d you run?” You stuff the book back into your bag.

“They try to stop me from taking my walks.” He shakes his head. “But I won’t. Not on days like this. Not while I’m…here. I’ve been having less of these, truth be told.”

You watch his face.

“That’s a secret, by the way,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have those, but I do.”

“I feel like everyone does.”

John hums out a noncommittal noise, shifting beside you on the log. Fishing in the pocket of his coat, he pulls out a small metal tin. You glance over at it as he cracks the lid open. It’s filled with an assortment of chalky-looking candy. Selecting a peppermint from the top, he raises it slowly to his lips.

“Don’t get old,” he says, extending the tin towards you. His hand trembles a bit with the effort. “Live as long as you can, but don’t get old.”

“I’ll try my best.” You nod, plucking out a piece of bright yellow candy.

“Very good.” He smiles gently over at you. “Enjoy.”

You pop the candy into your mouth as he snaps the tin shut. It’s lemon, sugary and just a touch stale. The taste is a nostalgic one. It slots in perfectly with everything else about him, ubiquitously grandfatherly.

“Thanks, John.”

“See, John sounds right, doesn’t it?” He exhales deeply, turning back to the ocean. “You’re very welcome.”

You return home. You count and then recount. You think about secrets and count them too. You’re not sure if you have seven anymore.

For all intents and purposes, you had disappeared. You were fairly professional at it. People cared initially, but the longer the gulf grew, the less they did. It was a blameless thing.

You always had a foot out the door of your own life. Self-sabotage and self-preservation were things you fumbled for in the dark. You always grabbed the wrong one, but you never noticed until it was too late.

Another blameless thing. They felt the same at first.

You imagined the lives you had vanished out of as gulls, bobbing at the surface of the water. They barely flew, those birds—just opened up their wings and let themselves be caught by the wind. It was the only sensible thing to do in response to something so inescapable.

You unlatch the window and crack it open. You breathe, you think, you count.

It was possible that the people you’d known weren’t the gulls at all. Maybe that was just you, a resident of nowhere in particular. Living in moments you’d just happened to end up in, ambivalent to a future that might exist past your next meal. It was an unfortunate thought.

Or maybe you aren’t any of those things. The thought came in a flat, unimpressed voice—the one you’d imagined for the cat outside your window. It’s gone now, but you can still picture those eyes. Amber, wide and unblinking.

It was correct, of course. You weren’t the parasitic maw in the shape of a bird, nor the wind that carried it. You couldn’t be. It was a hollow triumph to know that you were just a person and had always been one.

If you were anything, you wish you were the ocean. Impartial and vast and beautiful. Since you weren’t, you settle for filling your lungs with the salt of her exhale.

Read the rest on AO3 here!

#scuttles into ao3. drops this. darts away #midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #father paul hill #monsignor pruitt #father paul x reader #monsignor pruitt x reader #x reader #my fics #put my entire anthropological background in fuckin dysfunctional weird old men into this one #she's a scholar ur honor

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