#now here i am almost 20 years later | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sceletaflores · 27 days ago

Text

come on into my bed with me (i know you want to)

pair: old man!logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, some sad vibes because i can't function without them, large age gap (but isn't that obvious by now? mid 20s/old as fuck), established relationship but only kind of, falls in the logan 2017 timeline but very loosely, LONGINGGGG, gratuitous nickname use (kid, baby, honey, ect), nasty dirty talk cause he's old and gross, not so dry humping, JUST THE TIP RAHHHH, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: this was heavily inspired by imogen heap's 'i am in love with you' because that song fucks so hard and it really gave me lots of old man logan vibes. i was just so overcome with nasty thoughts that the beat possessed me and i blacked out and listened to it on a constant repeat while i wrote this instead of doing my a&p work. kisses!

dividers by angel @saradika-graphics!

you can't sleep, logan left his door open...

Rain pelts at the smudged glass of your window, drops trailing down the span of the panes that you follow with your eyes.

It's been raining nearly all week, a rare thing in Mexico, especially somewhere as dry as Sonora.

You used to love the rain. You felt a special kind of comfort anytime night would come and there'd be a certain chill swirling through the air, that familiar scent of damp soil and wet stone rising as the first drops hit the ground.

In Sonora, rain is supposed to be a gift—a reprieve from the unrelenting heat, a chance for the dry earth to drink.

It should feel cleansing, like a reset of sorts, and maybe it would have a few months ago.

Now it just feels heavy, oppressive. Each raindrop splattering against the glass feels like a reminder of everything that's stuck, unmoving.

The soft noise of it was almost enough to lull you to sleep, but it was still no match for your wandering mind.

You’ve been finding yourself here a lot recently, shrouded in the scratchy sheets of your bed in the quiet dark encompassing your room, mind racing.

It was raining the first night he touched you.

You've been with Logan and Charles for nine months.

A runaway hitchhiker turned caretaker after you fled from the meaningless scraps of your life back in Texas.

Logan found you on the side of the highway coming back from a shift in El Paso. One stop with the hazards on and a hasty conversation through a rolled down window later, you were throwing your bags in the back of his limo and climbing into the front seat.

You didn't realize until much later that he never truly asked you to stay, or to care for Charles alongside him.

It was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement, a roof over your head in exchange for your help. Watch over his ailing father for a few days while he went out to get him more medicine, that's what you settled on.

Yet somehow, here you are, nine months later.

You cook meals in a dusty kitchen that always smells faintly of motor oil, listen to Charles’ stories about a world you’ll never fully grasp, and watch Logan patch himself up in grim silence after he’s returned from whatever trouble found him this time.

It's strange how the days seemed to stretch endlessly, but the weeks have slipped past like a blink. You carved out a routine in this crumbling house in Sonora, built something that resembles a life even if it feels borrowed, like a second-hand coat that never quite fits right.

At first, you weren’t sure what kept you here. Maybe Charles.

You warmed to him almost immediately, drawn in by his gentle demeanor and the way he seemed to see right through you without a hint of judgment.

Even when his mind faltered, slipping into tangled memories or distant fragments of a life long past, he treated you with a kindness you hadn’t felt in years.

You’d come to think of him as a king, regal and noble. A king stripped of his castle, yet still wearing a crown, if ever so skewed—a king nonetheless.

You still aren’t sure, but you can’t shake the sense that leaving now would be like tearing off a scab—painful and unnecessary.

And then, one night, the rain came.

You remember it vividly, a torrent so sudden and unrelenting. The downpour soaking the dry dirt surrounding the plant.

You couldn’t help yourself from wandering out, stood barefoot on the porch as the cool air nipped at the skin of your arms and legs.

“You’re gonna catch a cold standin’ out here.” Logan said from somewhere behind you, his voice rough and low after the silence of a long shift.

You hadn’t moved, hadn’t even glanced his way. “I like the rain.”

There was a beat of silence before he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. His hand had been hesitant at first, a brush of calloused fingers against your arm.

You didn’t pull away.

The heat of his palm felt scalding, causing goosebumps to pebble along your damp skin. His thumb swiped across the circular scar just above your elbow, a cigarette burn, one of many.

He didn’t say anything as he turned and walked back into the house. You learned quickly that Logan’s not the type to fill silences with empty words, but you both knew something shifted.

He came into your room later that night. The squeaky mattress of your bed dipping under his weight as he slid his hand down your stomach, pausing just above the waistband of your shorts, a silent question.

He didn’t kiss you, but the rain pattering against the tin roof was enough to swallow your soft moans and gasps.

You settled into something undefined—a constant push and pull of need and silence. Logan touched you when he needed to, and you let him because you wanted to.

It wasn’t love, not then. It wasn’t even comfort. But it was connection. A tenuous thread in the quiet storm of your lives.

You figured that was enough.

The rain hasn't slowed. If anything, the howl of the wind is stronger than before.

The soothing rhythm of droplets hitting your window turned aggressively sharp, like darts thrown against a worn cork board.

The boom of thunder is nearly in sync with the pulse of your core, aching and insistent in its need.

It’s been weeks since Logan touched you last, his endless cycle of guilt stronger than it's been before. He’s never outright said it, but you know it’s there.

The silence between you both has stretched longer than you'd like to admit, a quiet that isn't comfortable anymore.

You know he’s got it in his head that he’s somehow taken advantage of you. A perverted old man falling weak to the pretty, young thing taking up space in the bed two doors over from him.

The thought stirs something deep within you, a mix of frustration and confusion. He’s not wrong, not exactly—but he’s not right either. You aren’t a child, and you aren’t helpless. You knew what you wanted, what you needed.

And that hasn’t dared to change.

You shift in bed, the sheets tangling around your legs as your body hums with a restlessness you can’t shake. The air in your room feels thick, charged, and suffocating, a mirror of the space between you and Logan.

He doesn’t understand that you want him too, that you weren’t some helpless thing to be protected or shielded from his darkness. It eats at you until your skin is practically buzzing with it, buzzing with the need to show him.

There’s only so much silence you can take before it becomes too loud to ignore.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, the hardwood cool against your bare feet. You know it’s late, but you don’t care.

You walk through the dimly lit hallway, the creak of the floorboards quiet under you as you make your way to Logan’s door. It’s cracked open, a yellow glow spilling through to guide you like a lighthouse guides its ships to shore.

When you reach the beat up wood you don’t hesitate, you push it open the slightest bit, peering through the widened gap.

He’s there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know he knows you’re there.

You cross the threshold, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you pull the door shut behind you, leaning your back against it.

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice rougher than you intended.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he runs his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. The lamplight catches the sharp planes of his face, a familiar weariness etched into his features.

His fingers flex at his sides, and for a moment, you think he’s going to tell you to leave—to go back to your room where it’s safe, where you won’t make things more complicated than they already are. You almost brace for it.

But then he speaks.

“What’s wrong, kid.” His voice is nothing but a deep rumble, like gravel crunching underfoot.

You shrug noncommittally, hands messing with a stray thread hanging from the edge of your shorts. “Can’t sleep.”

Logan sighs long and slow through his nose, hands pressing into his thighs. “Thought you liked the rain.”

You smile faintly at the irony, chest swelling with something dangerous.

You take a step further into the room, pushing yourself off the closed door. The familiar scent of him invades your senses. It’s a mixture of leather, earth, and something raw—something undeniably him.

You stand there for a moment, letting the silence stretch thin and taut before you finally speak.

“Can I stay?” The words come out barely above a whisper, but they land like a crack of lightning.

You feel your heart thud painfully in your chest, not from fear, but from the sudden vulnerability that makes your skin burn.

The room feels smaller now, the walls pressing in as you step forward, each movement slow and deliberate. You stop at the edge of his bed, the sheets pressing against the bare skin of your thighs.

Logan’s gaze flickers over his shoulder, meeting yours briefly before he looks away again, like he’s trying to convince himself that the ache in his chest isn’t real.

“You should go back to bed,” he says, voice gruff. “It’s late.”

“I don’t want to go back.” You shake your head even though he isn’t turned around to see it.

Without thinking, you crawl onto the bed, the comforter making soft shushing sounds under your hands and knees. You reach out, fingers brushing the back of his neck, the muscles there tight with strain.

Logan flinches slightly, but he doesn’t pull away, and that’s all the permission you need.

You shift closer, pressing your chest against his back, and letting your hands settle on his shoulders. The heat between you is electric, charged with something unsaid, something raw and undeniable.

“Please,” you whisper, your lips brushing against the back of his ear, your voice a mixture of defiance and desire.

Logan stiffens, but this time, you feel the shudder that runs through him, the way his body responds despite the walls he’s built around himself.

You know he’s torn, that he wants to fight this. You feel it in the tension that radiates from him, in the way his body seems to be fighting against the instinct to turn toward you.

But you don’t care anymore. You’re done with silence.

Your fingers slide down his back, feeling the rough fabric of his shirt against your skin as you press yourself closer. Your breath is hot against his neck now, and you can feel the rapid pulse in his veins beneath your lips as you hover just above his skin, waiting.

“Logan…” Your voice is softer now, almost pleading. You don’t know what you’re asking for, but you don’t have to.

His hand comes up, brushing against your wrist as if testing, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away. But you don’t.

Instead, you lean into him further, your lips brushing the curve of his neck, whispering into the tension that still hangs heavy between you. “Please.”

The last shreds of Logan’s resistance snap under the cloying weight of your touch.

He’s moving before you can even register what’s happening, rearing up with heavy hands that land on your shoulders to push you backwards.

You fall back onto the bed with a soft gasp, bouncing on the mattress once, twice, before Logan follows. His body settles over yours like a warm blanket, thick forearms braced on either side of your head to support his weight.

"Why couldn't you sleep, honey?" he asks, dark eyes boring into yours intense enough to get your stomach churning. The green of them is deeper than normal, like fresh moss growing over stone.

“I was thinking,” you whisper, breathless. Your pulse races beneath your skin, you wonder distantly if he can hear it too.

“Thinkin’ about what?” he presses, breath fanning over your lips temptingly.

Your brows furrow, a soft noise escaping you. You can't help but tell the truth. “About you.”

Logan hums, eyes trailing along your face slowly. He slots a knee between your thighs, groaning softly at the wet heat that seeps through to his jeans.

You gasp, hips bucking down instinctively. Your pussy aches desperately, leaking arousal into the cotton gusset of your panties.

His jaw clenches at the sound, muscle ticking just beneath the grey of his beard. “Is that right? You been layin' in that bed, thinkin' about me, gettin’ all worked up?"

Your face burns under his scrutiny, but you don’t shy away. You arch your back, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, letting the heat of your body speak for you.

“Yeah,” you breathe, the confession trembling on your lips. “I need you, it hurts.”

Logan exhales sharply, like the words knocked the air out of him. His hands slide from your shoulders, rough palms gliding down the skin of your arms before settling right under the swell of your breasts.

“Where’s it achin’, baby?” he asks softly, words almost getting lost in the dark of the room. “Show me.”

You let out a soft breath, reaching down to take his hand in yours.

Without breaking eye contact, you guide his hand down your trembling body until his palm rests over the apex of your thighs, where the damp fabric of your shorts clings to your swollen folds.

“Here,” you whisper, voice barely audible above the rain pounding against his window.

A low growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and his fingers press more firmly against you, feeling the slick heat that’s soaked through the thin cotton. His eyes darken further, the green almost swallowed by the black of his pupils.

Logan’s thumb drags over your clit, slow and deliberate, coaxing a needy whimper from your lips.

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice thick. “You’re drippin’ for me, aren’t you? Didn’t even need to touch you, and you’re already so fuckin’ wet.”

You whimper softly, bucking your hips against his hand, desperate for more.

"I've been like this all night," you admit, your voice going high and needy. "Thinking about how good you make me feel. How much I want you."

Logan’s eyes lock onto yours, and there’s something new swirling through them, something you’ve never seen before.

A beat passes—too long—almost agonizing. His free hand lifts from your hip, gently cupping your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin, like he isn’t sure if he has the right to touch you like this.

His thumb brushes your lip, his gaze flicking to your mouth before returning to your eyes, asking for permission, even though neither of you had ever really needed it before.

"Logan," you say, the sound a little breathless, unsure of how to navigate this sudden shift, but he doesn’t keep you waiting.

He closes the distance in a heartbeat, lips crashing into yours with a ferocity you didn’t expect.

It’s like the world around you falls away, leaving only the warmth of his lips, the taste of him, and the pressure of his body against yours. The raging storm outside dulling until it’s nothing but fuzzy background noise.

His kiss is rough, deep, urgent, but there’s something more in it, a slow unraveling. Like he’s trying to carve himself into you, a permanent mark, a reminder that he was here, even if he never says it out loud.

Logan tastes like rich smoke and whiskey, the sharp edge of him mixing with the sweet burn of need. It sends your head reeling, arms coming up to circle around his neck.

You can’t find the words to describe it, not with the way his fingers slide through the wetness gathering at your entrance, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Your hips thrust upward, begging for more, your body hungry for the release he’s just out of reach of giving.

“Want you inside me, Logan,” you moan desperately, slick lips brushing his with every word. “Please.”

Logan's body stiffens against yours at the sound of your pleading, his grip tightening on your cheek like he's trying to anchor himself in the reality of what you're asking.

“Shit,” he growls under his breath, his forehead pressing to yours as he closes his eyes. His chest heaves, the tension in his body palpable. "I—" he pauses, struggling to form the words, but you can see it in his eyes. He's conflicted, desperate, yet still hesitant.

You move against him, your body restless, your need undeniable, feeling the rigid outline of his hard cock pressed firmly against your thigh. A thick plane of heat that has your pussy clenching around the tips of his fingers.

You don’t want to push him, not anymore. But you’re past the point of waiting for permission.

Your lips meet his again, softer this time, coaxing, until he finally gives in, groaning against your mouth as he kisses you back with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I want to feel you,” you whisper, your hands trailing down to the hem of his shirt, pushing it over the swell of his pecs.

His skin is hot under your fingertips, rough and familiar. Your fingers trail lightly across his chest, nails scratching through the salt and pepper hair dusted across his skin as you urge him closer.

“Just the tip,” Logan mutters under his breath, barely above a whisper. His voice hoarse, like he’s bargaining with himself. “Just to make you feel good, but that’s it, understand?”

You bite your lip, the edge of frustration gnawing at you. It’s not everything you need, not everything you want, but it's something. And right now, it’s enough.

You nod your head, hands already moving to the front of his jeans. You undo the button with shaking fingers, tugging the zipper down and pushing the worn denim away.

His cock springs free, already hard, leaking with the same desperation you feel. You run your fingers along his length, feeling the heat of him, the steady throb of his pulse.

Logan peels down the thin layer of your shorts, cursing under his breath when he finds you completely bare underneath, your slick pussy shining under the dim light.

You watch him, chest heaving, as he stares down at you—his eyes dark and full of something primal, something raw.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his fingers tracing the outline of your wetness. He groans low in his throat, his thumb circling your clit once before moving down, dipping inside you just barely. “You’re perfect, baby.”

“Logan,” you whine, thighs spreading in a clear invitation. You patience is running exceedingly thin, your whole body alight with the feeling of a raging forest fire

“I know,” he mutters, placating. He takes the throbbing length of his cock in his hand, swiftly settling between your legs. “I know.”

The thick head drags through your folds, smearing pre-come along your skin and adding even more to the mess between your legs.

A quiet moan passes through your swollen lips, your muscles tightening as he slides himself along your clit. A slow back and forth movement that sends sparks shooting up your spine.

Logan grits his teeth, his breath shallow, as he finally aligns himself with your clenching hole.

The air around you feels charged, a taut thread stretched between anticipation and restraint. You shift your hips slightly, just enough to encourage him, your eyes locked on his as you beg him silently with your gaze.

Then, with a low growl that vibrates through you, he pushes forward, just enough to make you gasp in relief, the head of his cock sliding home in your entrance.

And though it’s only the tip, the sensation of him inside you is enough to set your world alight.

You can feel it, deep in your bones—the simmering, searing heat that makes everything else fade into the background.

Logan presses his lips to your forehead, his breath hot against your skin as he keeps his movements slow, deliberate, his hands holding your hips steady. "This is what you wanted, huh? Got you begging for it, honey," he growls softly. "Even if I’m only givin’ you a taste."

His hips roll languidly, staying true to his word and never sinking deeper than the thick head of his cock. His hand grips the base tightly, his fist fucking slow strokes over the length of himself to where he’s spreading your pussy open.

His scarred knuckles bump against your clit with every stroke, fanning the fire building in your lower stomach.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, honey,” he groans into the skin of your neck, the pace of his hips speeding up ever so slightly. “Feels like heaven.”

You claw at the skin of his back, touch wild and desperate. It takes everything in you not to shift your hips down, to sheath the rest of his cock deep inside your and lock your ankles around his back so he can never leave again.

Logan’s lips find your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he shifts against you. “Tell me you want this,” he says, his voice low, almost a command, yet laced with something tender. “Tell me you want me.”

You meet his gaze without hesitation, your voice steady despite the tremble in your chest. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

The words come out without thought, raw and honest, and you see something in his eyes shift—a flicker of relief, of something deeper than lust.

Logan groans like he got shot, his body shuddering above you as a low growl tears its way from his chest. He fucks into you faster, short, quick thrusts that steal all the breath from your lungs.

Sparks go off behind your closed eyes, bright white and glittering. You can feel yourself getting closer, your body trembling as you grind up against him, meeting him halfway, needing more, needing release.

“Logan,” you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders harder, nails digging in. “I’m so close. Please—”

“Let go,” he growls, his pace increasing, his body pressing harder against yours. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With his command, you unravel, the world spinning around you as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless, gasping for air, your body quivering beneath him as he holds you through it.

Logan follows, tearing himself from the tight grip of your pussy with a sharp jerk of his hips, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he shoots thick ropes of come over your slick folds.

Your body shakes at the feeling, a breathless whimper pulled from your slack lips at the sticky warmth of his release.

He collapses onto the mattress next to you, his body shuddering enough to match your own. The room falls into a deep silence, the only sounds your mingling breaths and the distant sound of thunder.

A sick sort of dread bursts through the sweet afterglow of your hazy mind, settling in your stomach like a lead weight. You think that this is the moment where Logan will realize what you’ve done, that he’ll retreat back into himself and send you away.

Send you back to your own room and leave you to lay in the cold aftermath of your own recklessness.

You brace for it, the instinct to pull away, to protect yourself from his withdrawal, but it never comes.

Instead, you feel his strong arm slide over your waist, pulling you closer, his body heat a stark contrast to the chill creeping in from the window.

His breath is warm against your neck as he shifts, his fingers tracing absent circles on your skin in a move that’s so endearingly human it has your chest aching.

"Stay here tonight?" he asks, his voice rough, almost a whisper.

Your heart clenches, tears burning at your waterline at the vulnerability of his tone. It breaks the dam inside you, relief and something dangerously close to love flooding your body in a bursting rush of water.

“Of course,” you murmur, your voice shaky.

Logan’s hand tightens around you, his thumb brushing over your ribs. He presses a soft kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder, settling onto the mattress with a slow breath.

You drift to sleep more relaxed than you’ve felt in years, even with the knowledge of the slow journey that lies ahead of you. It won’t be easy, it never is with Logan. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Because even though the rain falls, the desert doesn’t bloom overnight.

And neither do you.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

1K notes · View notes

aegis-noctua · 8 days ago

Text

Allow me to finally break and enter this fandom with my humble offering!

I just wanted to do something with them all being good friends. Love, love, love their group dynamic! Also I have like 20+ pages worth of silly little dialogs that I want to turn into equally silly little comics, so hopefully I'll be sticking around.

Aaand a lot of rambling under the cut.

I'm an avid reader, you see. I generally don't watch things (sometimes not in literal years), it's just not something I do. So when at the beginning of fall tumblr exploded with outrage over the Dead Boy Detectives cancellation, my first thought genuinely was "what a stupid f*cking name" and then immediately "people are overreacting, it's just a series, nothing is worth that much of a fuss". But after observing for some time from a safe distance I eventually grew curious. I thought I knew what I was getting into.

(I had no bloody idea)

Well. Here I am now, almost four months of obsession later, eating my words with shards of glass and no sign of reaching the bottom of this cursed rabbit hole. I've been drawing more than ever and for the first time seriously thinking about honing my artistic skills. I have some drafts for at least two stories, and even though I'm a little hesitant to write (not being a native and all), I'm pretty determined to give it a go anyway. I tend to avoid social media and digital public spaces in general, but #SaveDeadBoyDetectives campaign changed that as well. To my great regret, there is not much I can do or participate in, so I settled for trying to be supportive of all the lovely people who created probably the safest and most comfortable online space I've ever encountered. I'm not as good as Charles at keeping spirits up, but damn I wanna try.

It honestly feels like if I had something like dbda growing up, I'd turn out at least 40% less traumatized as a person. It grew to mean so much so quickly. It's like some moments were plucked right out of my life and then embedded in the show. I felt (and still feel) so seen, and understood, and reassured, and safe, and hopeful, and accepted when watching (pretty much everybody's but especially) Edwin's side of the story. It's so much more than "just a series", and these Dead Boys deserve every good word that's being said about them.

Okay, I'm wrapping it up now, and the only thing left to say is thank you to all the people who put their effort into keeping this wonderful story alive and making the fandom so friendly and welcoming.

(right now I'm working on a big Christmas comic that I definitely won't be able to finish in time, but it will appear here at some point)

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #save dead boy detectives #dbda #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #fanart #my art

508 notes · View notes

flowerfreya · 6 months ago

Text

First Day

This is Part 2 of an office / cooperate AU for poly!141

Here’s Part 1 / Part 3

Pairing 141 x you

Tw: mean bf ( not 141)

The 141 leaves at the same time , and when they get down to the lobby they see that you are still down there in the cafe with a cup that is for sure empty and a large smart water on your phone. They are all shocked to see you there and and John is pissed but tries to breathe through it.

“What are you still doing here?” ,He ask.

You look up and is a little startled when you are greeted by 4 large guys looming over you. Your startled a little bit, “huh?”, you tired and you know you haven’t done anything for seven hours but your still not at home and you wish you were.

“What are you still doing here, bird?” John pushes out , he has an ideas as to why but he wants to hear from you.

“Oh , I’m waiting on my boyfriend , he gets off in 4 more hours” you say brightly , faking it until you make it.

“Do you need a ride ?”, Soap interjects, “ I get great gas mileage.”

“Oh thank you for the offer, but I’m okay”. You know how your boyfriend can get when he thinks that you are entertaining other guys , which you would never do but he doesn’t seem to realize that.

“You sure?” he questions, you want to take him up on his offer but you know you can’t so just smile and shake your head.

Four and half hours later you are passenger side of the car and he doesn’t even ask how your interview went just wonders what for dinner.

You roll your eyes , you don't even like cooking but its your duty since you don’t work and still need to share the responsibilities.

“Probably chicken and rice”

“Anything other than that?” , that pisses you off because one: you haven’t made chicken and rice for a two weeks and two: you don’t like cooking so he should take what’s he gets.

“If you don’t like how about you cook” you snap back.

“Don’t be such a bitch” he says casually. You know you deserve better than this but you feel stuck, you’ve been with him for 8 years, he was you first everything and while they has been many breaks within your relationship you never strayed and hopefully he hasn’t either (he has break or not).

You get home , you make dinner you don’t really want to make , have a sex with a guy you don’t really want to have sex with and go to sleep in a bed you really don’t want to sleep in.

The call comes in the morning at 8:30 am sharp , your so excited you have an issue answering the phone so it take a couple of rings beofre the sliding your thumb across the screen.

“Hello”

“Good morning , this John Price from the interview yesterday” his voice sounds so nice and low over the phone and you honestly love and it take you second to remember to say something back.

“Yes, that’s me”

“We would like to offer you a position as receptionist associate”

“Yes!”

“Woah, bird slow down, you need to hear my offer and then ask some questions”

“Oh okay sure”. So you listen to him talk and do a spiel that sounds almost robotic. He ask if you want to negotiate for the salary. No you say. Honey, you should negotiate he says. So you ask for a dollar more than offered and he says that will be fine.

“When can you start ? “ he ask

“Immediately”

“Today?”

“Ummm I guess not immediately, my boyfriend has the car today”

“I’ll call you a car” he says easily.

“Oh sure, how long do I have”

“Can you be ready in 30 minutes” . No. You cannot, but you say, “Sure”, in the most preppy voice as possible, you can feel the aniexty ramping up.

When you get off the phone it’s a mad scramble to find an outfit , which of course nothing fit rights and everything is wrinkly. You do your hair but you need a reti and your hair is fuzzy so you just leave it down. Your make up is not turning out right and you forgot to powder your makeup so now it’s going to crease. And you didn’t have breakfast but still has coffee so now your going to have to go the bathroom in 20 minutes and it’s not going to be fun.

And your sweating. A lot.

You just finished with your routine by the time you get the text from the number that called you this morning

>>the car is here for you.

You thumbs up the message, rushing out the door with your tote bag.

You slide into the backseat of the car because you think it’s a rideshare.

“What are you doing back there? Sit up here with me”. You look up and see Soap looking at your through the rear view mirror and shoot him a smile slide out of the backseat and move to the front seat.

“I didnt know this is what Mr. John meant when he said he was going to send a car”

“Mr. John,eh”

“ I just want to be respectful,” you say with a laugh.

“Hen , he will love that”

By the time you get to the office you are a bundle of nerves , you hate being the new girl , you also hate not being good at your job. You know what happens when you get a new job but you can still hate it. You are picking at your cuticles which is a nervous tick that you have, you follow Johnny up the office space and sit on the sofa next to the reception and wait for John to call you into his office. You do the basic onboarding task with and thankfully Kyle which you now know as “Gaz” is HR and that’s why he’s in the annex. After you are done with John you get sent back there and complete the rest of the task and that when you get shown your desk at reception.

“You can decorate it however you want”

“Really” You’ve never had a cubicle or a desk that you can decorate however you want. You're so excited to go to TJ Maxx after work and spend the money you don’t have . You sit at the desk and get started with making your system to work. Making a new voicemail message, making a new email signature and distro list. You look after answering the phone and having to assign to a rep and see a tall man with a surgery mask staring back at. You remember when you got the tour of that being Simon Riley. You give him a big smile and wave nd then point to the phone and then to you then to him and nods once, you transfer the call hopefully to Simon but then you hear Johns phone ring and you internally cringe, already knowing that you transferred the call to the wrong office.

“This is Price , what can I do for ya?” you hear and want the floor to swallow you up. You look over at Simon and his eyes widening and then is followed by his shoulders shaking and great hes laughing at you.

“Hen, a word ? “ You look up and see John in doorway, leaning against in that sexy way that guys do and you stand up from your desk with you head down and head over. You squeeze by him to get into the office and he shuts the door behind you.

“Please have seat , do you know how to- “ You quickly cut him off and start to explain how your still getting used to transferring calls and that you know Simon sits next to Soap but Soap real name is John but also called Johnny and then everyone's name is blinking an-

“Your not in trouble … did anyone teach how to use the phones?” You shake your head, and then he teaches you, like actually teaches you how to do things, and its the best first day you ever had.

You forgot to tell your boyfriend you had to work, and when he got home without you being there he called you. Your phone was on silent. In your purse. He has your location.

The door slam opens with the blinds bouncing on the door causing you be look and be startled. “Where the hell have you been” he demands , you know hes mad , his face is red amd his hair look like he ran his hand through it multiple times and you know for a fact the car is park half haphazardly taking up two spots.

Your used to this attitude and you make sure you stay perfectly still but not too defensive because it will make it worse but you’ve never experienced it at work. You glance over to your coworkers: John standing up in his doorway, Soap moving towards your desk, and Simon watching from his desk , he’s alert and you can’t see his hands.

“I’ve been here, they wanted me to start today”, you smile hoping to pacify him. You start to get stuff ready already knowing that you are about to leave just so he won’t embarrass you anymore. “I’m sorry it was all so sudden, you know”, ending in a nervous laughter.

“I’m not fucking laughing”, he says your name with so much force , you lean back as if that will get you away from him.

“I know” , you say softly, moving around the desk and putting your jacket on.

You look around and thank them for such a good first day.

“You okay ?”, John ask you with a tilt of his head trying to look you in the eye.

“She fine”, your boyfriend answered for you. You know you have tears in your eyes and if you were lighter you would be flustered but all there is to show for it is sweaty armpits. You nod you head and smile at him.

“I will see you guys tomorrow , have a nice rest of your day” , just as your boyfriend grabs you by the arm and drags you out of there.

John glances at Soap and then Simon and nods his head towards annex. They need to have a little chat about the receptionist and her little boyfriend.

#task force 141 #simon riley x reader #johh price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #poly!141 #cooperate!au #freyawrites

589 notes · View notes

lokis-army-77 · 7 months ago

Text

Sweet Treat

older!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 3.4k

It's hot out and you see your older neighbor mowing his lawn. Lucky for you he invites you inside for a sweet treat.

Warning: 18+ I will block you if you are under 18 or have no age in your blog. oral (f receiving), p in v, fingering, like the slightest amount of food play, 40s eddie, 20s reader, fem reader, just a bit of cum eating

Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs, @lofaewrites, @emma-munson and @littlexdeaths

Masterlist

It was sweltering outside, like hell was no longer a fictional place made up by religion but real, and its flames had reached Hawkins. The sun beat down on you so intensely that you thought your skin was melting.

You berate yourself for thinking that taking a walk outside in the middle of summer would be anything but awful and yet you're here.

Sweat dripped from your forehead as you finally made it back to your home, but instead of going straight inside something stopped you in your tracks.

Your neighbor, or your hot older neighbor, had started mowing. The sound of the motor roaring to life caught your attention, and the sight of the 45-year-old without his shirt on kept it.

The sun shining onto his sweat-soaked skin made him look ethereal, like a god on earth. It made your mouth water and your nerves vibrate.

He caught your eye a moment later and waved, you waved back and then made yourself look busy by checking your mailbox, nothing was there. You didn't want him to know you were gawking at him.

It must not have worked because as soon as the mower had turned on, it turned off and you heard your name being called in that deep timber.

You walk down your driveway, closer to where he sat on his machine.

"Hi, Mr. Munson," you greeted with a smile.

He sighs, "Thought I told you to call me Eddie."

You respond with a giggle, "I know, I just do it to aggravate you."

"Ah, so you think you're funny?"

"Oh, I know I am."

Eddie just chuckles at that, shaking his head.

Reaching a hand up, you wipe the sweat from your brow.

"Sure is hot."

"It is. You wanna come inside, I've got some cold water and a bit of butter pecan ice cream if you want any." He offers.

You wrinkle your nose, "Butter pecan? That's such an old man flavor."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is. The only people who eat and enjoy butter pecan are over the age of 40." You enjoy the banter that usually flows between the two of you. It makes your stomach flutter and your knees weak.

He just rolls his eyes. "Well then, Sweetheart, I think I have just a bit of chocolate in the freezer with your name on it."

You finally walk up next to him as he stands from the mower. "Don't I just feel special."

Eddie looks at you smugly. “Ladies first.” He gestures for you to walk in front of him and you oblige.

There’s a swing to your hips that you hope catches his attention, especially with how much skin is exposed from the workout shorts you were wearing. You hear him cough, clearing his throat and you know it worked.

“Door’s unlocked,” he calls as you bound up the stairs.

Upon entering the house you’re hit with a blast of cold air. The AC was definitely turned down as far as it could go, it felt almost like a freezer.

Eddie enters only a moment after you, letting the door slam closed. He glides past you, a hand barely grazing our hip as he does. You follow him closely.

It's bright enough in the kitchen that he doesn't bother flipping the light on. He heads straight for the fridge.

Your eyes rake over him, taking in the flex of muscles as he bends to open the sliding freezer door. The way his arms bulge when he rummages through the depths had your mouth watering.

Giving a long sigh, Eddie stands up straight and turns to you with a pint of ice cream in hand.

“Looks like it's just old people ice cream if the princess is alright with that.”

“Oh, it's princess now?” You ask, taking a seat on the barstool next to the kitchen island.

Eddie shrugs, “Fits better since you're apparently too good for the best ice cream known to man.”

“I am not.”

He scrunches his face, you think it's cute. “I beg to differ.”

“I'm not, I'll eat your ice cream, no problem.”

“So you aren't going to complain that it's for old people?” He asks, settling at the counter next to you.

“Just open the carton.” You give his arm a slight shove.

He does as you say and pushes it closer to you before offering a spoon.

You take it and thank him before scooping a tiny bit of the sweet treat out. It's cold on your tongue and you hate to admit it but it was good.

“S'good isn't it?”

“Eh, it's okay.” You say, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right.

Taking another scoop, this time you bring the spoon slowly into your mouth, lapping up the ice cream in a more sensual manner as you make eye contact with the other man. Just barely, you can see his pupils dilate taking you in.

“You’ve got a little-” Eddie makes a vague gesture to the corner of his mouth.

Giggling a bit, you fein ignorance of the ice cream you let collect at the corner of your mouth. “Here?” you ask as you wipe at the opposite side.

And just as you thought he would, Eddie reaches over and smoothes his thumb over your lip, collecting what was there. Your breath hitches when he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it clean. The sight of his tongue wetting the digit and the glisten of saliva in the light had your legs clenching.

You want him to do it again.

So, with another bite of ice cream, you make what you’re doing more obvious, letting the spoon paint the white treat over your lips. You know what it must look like, salacious and borderline inappropriate if your mind was in the gutter, which is where you know Eddie’s is at that moment.

He takes a deep, shaky breath, “Fuck-” He’s surging toward you before you can even comprehend it. Soft, plump lips connect with yours. You freeze in shock for just a moment, then you kiss him back.

The spoon in your hand drops to the counter, rattling loudly. You reach your arms around his neck and pull him into you. Eddie slips his tongue between your lips and lets out a groan. He tastes like butter pecan and something you can’t quite place, something you can only describe as Eddie.

You can’t get enough and just when you start to wrestle your tongue against his, he pulls away and creates a space between the two of you.

A hand rubs over his face and he sight. “We can’t be doing this.” His tone is reluctant.

Furrowing your brows, you ask, “Why not?”

Eddie looks at you and flits his eyes from your kiss-swollen lips to the dismayed expression in your eyes. “Are you serious? I’m too old for you.”

“Last I checked, 45 wasn’t that old.”

“Sweetheart, I have tattoos older than you.” He shakes his head.

“Eddie, I’m a grown adult who knows what she wants and to put it frankly, you have been at the top of that list for quite some time.” You pause to examine his expression. His brow is cross and he’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “Is it my consent that you need? Because you have it.”

“God, this is probably a bad idea,” he whispers to himself and then he's on you once more. His large hands squeeze at your waist until they find their way under the fabric of your tee. Your own hands cling to his shoulders, keeping yourself balanced so you don’t fall off the bar stool.

Eddie bites your lip, tugging it lightly when he pulls away. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you. How long I’ve wanted to have my hands on you, to feel you.” He says, breathless.

He kisses down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and a tingle wherever his lips meet your skin.

“Eddie-” You moan.

“Hum?”

“I want you to do more than kiss me.”

That stops him in his tracks. He pulls away for a second time and you can’t help the whimper it brings out of you.

“You’re sure?”

As much as you were grateful for his concern, it was really getting in the way of you trying to have him fuck the daylights out of you.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You pull him in for a deep kiss before whispering against his lips, “So, are you going to fuck me or am I going to have to take matters into my own hands?”

The smirk he gives you is cocky. “C’mere, Sweetheart.” He grabs at you, pulls you from the stool, and moves you to the island countertop. He wastes no time in ridding you of your shirt and bra.

His tongue licks a long, wet line from the side of your neck down to the elastic waistband of your shorts.

Slowly but surely, he begins to pull the fabric down Your legs. He stops in surprise when He sees you aren't wearing anything underneath.

A deep chuckle vibrates in his chest. “Did you know this would happen, Sweetheart?” He left an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Hum? Plan to seduce me with those short fucking shorts only to not have any panties on?”

Shaking your head you mumble out “No.”

“It sure does look like it, princess.” Eddie teases you with his fingers, using them to spread you open gently. His eyes glaze over with lust. “Fuck, baby… so pretty and wet for me.”

The sudden rush of arousal washes over you, leaving your skin flushed and your cunt fluttering around nothing.

He leaves wet kisses all over the sensitive skin, moving from your apex to your thigh, right where the artery was. Taking the plush meat there into his mouth, he sucked, soothing his tongue over where his teeth bit down gently. There was no doubt a mark would be there when he pulled away.

You watch him, elbows planted on the counter to prop yourself up. Just looking at him makes your heart beat faster.

“Eddie,” you moan as you widen your legs.

He hums against you as he sucks his way back to your center. With lidded eyes, he looks up at you just as his mouth attaches to your clit.

Choking out a gasp, you let your head fall back between your shoulders.

Eddie’s hands wrap around the back of your legs, gripping them firmly and guiding them over his shoulders. The noises coming from where he was connected to you had butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He'd only just started but it felt like with every even suck and precise lick of his tongue, You were melting into a puddle around him.

Soon your arms became weak and you had to lay flat. Your hands had a mind of their own as your body writhes under Eddie's expert mouth. His hair quickly fell from the loose knot that kept it out of his face when you ran your hands through it.

You could tell Eddie liked it too much, hips bucking into nothing When you tugged on the salt and pepper strands. His moans sent vibrations through you.

“Eddie, fuck, Eddie- you feel so good,” you can't help but babble when you feel two thick fingers begin to penetrate your entrance.

There's an audible pop when he releases you from his mouth. “Yeah? Imagine how good my cock's gonna feel, Sweetheart.” He removes your legs from his shoulders as he begins to stand.

Tilting your head, you gaze at him. Following down his nose, over his wet lips, down along the tattoo of a sneak that started at his shoulder and curled down his bicep. With him closer now, you could see more of those tattoos littering his skin and the trail of hair that led from his navel down.

You clench around his fingers at the thought of whatever was hiding behind those basketball shorts. You wanted it, needed it, inside of you.

Eddie's fingers massaged into you, the calloused pads pushing into your soft insides. “Right there!” You pant when he pushes into a particularly sensitive spot. “Right there! Don't stop!”

He doesn't, he keeps a strong steady pace with his fingers hitting the mark every single time. It had your toes curling and your head swirling with pleasure.

Unknowingly, you clamped your hand over your mouth as you began to moan.

Eddie pushes your hand away. “Don't cover those pretty moans, wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

Nodding, you keep your hands away. Occupying one by gripping your breast and the other, slipping it down to massage over your clit.

The added stimulation makes your legs snap shut and your body goes ridged. You were hurled over the edge so fast that your vision was almost white.

Eddie kept his fingers pumping into you despite the added obstacle. You could hear the wet sound growing louder as your body shook with release and your lungs cried out.

“That's it, princess, give it all to me.”

“Eddie-” you cry out to him. “Feels- ah fuck, I feel so good.”

He hums in approval.

“You make me feel so good.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from your dripping cunt and licks them clean. “God, you're delicious. Put that ice cream to shame.”

He pulls you by your hips down the counter, closer to him, and places a firm kiss on your lips. You'd never liked the taste of yourself before but that salty tangy mixed with the sweetness of Eddie's tongue had you melting and wanting for more.

You want to feel him inside of you. No, it's not a want, it's a need. A need so strong you think you might cry if you don't have I'm in the next five seconds.

Pulling away, you give Eddie a look. One so filled with lust and longing, you know he won't be able to resist.

“What is it, princess?” He asks, moving back in to kiss marks on your neck.

Your fingers tug on his hair and you sigh. “I need-”

“What do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me.” The buck of your hips punctuated every word.

“S'that right, Sweetheart? Need me to use this pretty cunt?”

You groaned, nodding excitedly when he started backing up. As he did so, he knocked over what was left of the ice cream. It was melted now and its contents flowed onto the counter.

Eddie smirked as he took the carton and instead of sitting it back up, he poured it onto your skin. The splashes of the now liquid dessert were cold on your hot skin. He gives you a salacious wink before lapping up what he had tipped onto you.

“Eddie!” You gasp, surprised by his actions.

He paced you no mind, cleaning the stickiness from your skin, and pulled back. Acting as though nothing had happened, he began tugging at the drawstring of his shorts.

The outline of his cock was impressive, you had always imagined it would be the biggest you'd ever had. And as his shorts and boxers fell from his hips down his toned legs, you were proven right.

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sick of him. Long and thick and stood at attention. Your eyes flicked from the flushed tip of his cock to his eyes and then back down again a few times before he chucked. Asking “See something you like?”

“Yeah…” you were breathless just looking at it.

Anticipation begins to build, your heart beating faster as he lined himself up. Your legs spread wider, letting Eddie nestle in. He gives the sensitive skin a tap with his cock before sliding it through your slick folds.

“Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please.”

As he enters, there's a slight pain. He's thicker than anything you've ever taken and the new stretch has you burning. He isn't even halfway inside before you start shaking and mewling in ecstasy.

Eddie's fingers have your hips in an iron grip. He looks out a long moan once he bottoms out. There is the sensation of being filled to your absolute max.

Your walls are contracting around him, trying To pull him in deeper.

“Fuck. That's it, baby, taking me so well. So proud of you.”

You keen into his praise. Hips bucking and back arching.

“Need more,” you plead and he obliges, rocking his hips into you, starting slow before going into an almost inhuman speed. pleasure is all that you feel, all that you know in this moment.

With every thrust, you saw Eddie lose just a little more self-control until he was feral, pounding into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel so fucking good baby. Yeah, that's right, this pussy was made for me, wasn't it? God dammit.” He'd lost his filter, saying anything and everything that came to his mind.

You were loving it. No man had ever been so vocal with you before and it was such a turn-on to hear every grunt, moan, and whimper.

There's a flutter in your stomach that you know all too well. You're balancing on the edge and are so close to toppling over.

“Eddie. Eddie. Eddie!” You've run out of words, all you can manage to say is his name. It's like a prayer on your lips.

“I know, Sweetheart.” He tuts, voice out of breath. “Can feel you squeezing me. God, you’re so fucking tight.” His fingers grip your hips harder. “Need you to cum for my baby, can you do that?”

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, yes,” you say as his thrusts continue, finally giving you that last little nudge you need to fall.

With eyes rolling back in your head and a ringing in your ears, you cum. Harder than you ever had before. You're so lost in the feeling that you can't hear yourself screaming rapture. Every feeling is intense like hitting a raw nerve but it's so enjoyable.

Eddie's thrusts slow to a stop before he reluctantly pulls from your warmth and tugs himself to completion. You can feel the warm ropes quickly cooling on your stomach and breasts when you finally come back to reality.

“God dammit.” Eddie rasps.

You can't help but laugh, “My thoughts exactly.”

Fixing your eyes on your stomach. You take a finger and collect Eddie's cum onto it. He watches you with wide eyes as you bring the finger to your mouth. It's not your favorite taste but you moan nonetheless.

“Thanks for the sweet treat, Mr. Munson.” Your face heats up over what you've said.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at you before giving you a fond look. Even though you were spread out on his kitchen counter covered in drying cum, you'd never felt more comfortable. You can see when Eddie hesitates ever-so-slightly before he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

It was sweet, you thought. You nod giving him the go-ahead.

He pulls you up by the hand you give him and his mouth is on you in a tender kiss. Much too tender for what you had both finished doing.

His hands massage into the sides of your face and neck and your own slide into his hair, tugging the fallen strands at the nape of his neck.

When he pulls away, you follow him hot wanting his lips to leave yours. He gives you a quick peck before stepping back.

You pout but he soothes you. “I'll be back. Gonna get a cloth to clean you up.”

It only takes him a moment to return to you, warm rag in hand. It feels nice to have all the sweat and other fluids wiped from your skin, it feels even nicer with Eddie the one doing it.

A yawn escapes you when he’s finally done and helps you off the counter.

“Tired?” He asks.

“Yea-” You were cut off by another big yawn, it brings involuntary tears to your eyes. Rubbing your eyes, you sigh, “I guess I better get home.” Bending down, you reach for your clothes that had made a home on the floor.

“Or,” Eddie stops you, “You could stay here.”

The statement was more of a question with his hopeful look and light tone.

You can’t help the blush that makes its way onto your cheeks. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good. Now leave those there, I have something more comfortable you can wear.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #older eddie munson

1K notes · View notes

catboybiologist · 13 days ago

Text

Hey it's a life update that probably no one cared about or asked for

tl;dr: I'm likely quitting my PhD via mastering out, and leaving my program in June.

sappy, overly emotional vent/explanation:

I'm wrapping up my first quarter as an out-of-the-closet trans woman. I've had some serious conversations about where me and my work stand. This was always my intention after coming back from my summer hiatus/social transition: see how "reentry" works, and then assess from there.

For those that don't know, PhDs in the US take 5-7 years. Oftentimes, however, they either give you a master's along the way, or give you an option to quit halfway through with a master's. I'm in my 3rd year and have more than enough to use that option. I've toyed with this idea before, but it feels a bit different now. Last year, I was burned out from science, my project was failing, and I was under constant stress of boymoding and remaining in the closet. Now, I'm out and proud, and I deeply love my project and find it exciting. I fixed some things.

Unfortunately, I have a recurrent problem. Whenever something goes wrong in my life, the first thing to drop off is my ability to drive forward my own thesis project in a coherent way. What the actual problems are vary, but that motif stays the same. I could list off what's going on right now, but I think y'all can assume a bit of what a mid-20s, broke, recently transitioned trans woman in the US is going through at the moment. There's a lot of specifics, of course, but I'm not at liberty to say most of it.

So I'm looking around and realizing I have scraps of half finished projects, I've given support and help for other people's projects.... and then made little progress on my actual thesis. It's enough to pull together into a master's thesis, and maybe even another paper or two, but.... not a PhD.

And then there's the other side of it. The nicer reasons. Could I stay here, buckle down, maybe add years to my degree, and get through it? Probably. But honestly? I don't really want to put myself through that now. It used to be that academics was all I had. It was all my failures and all my successes. It's what I threw myself at, because I genuinely had nothing else going on. Since transitioning, the world seems so much more beautiful and rich, so much more complex and vast, with so much more to do in it. I've even had more negative experiences unrelated to academia, and while they've sucked, they've shown me that life is so much bigger than it was before.

To be blunt, to experience more of my life... it helps to have money, and it helps to have career stability. It's not the only factor by far, but certainly one defining moment when making this decision was trying to create a timeline and budget for transition related surgeries, and realizing that its near impossible in grad school.

Not to be dramatic, but I've also had a couple extremely jarring experiences in the past year that are reminded me that life is short. And I want at least some time to enjoy it.

My heart is honestly broken here, and I'm feeling extremely emotional about this. I love my lab, my colleagues, the environment of doing research, and my project. But I'm realizing that it might not be viable, or what makes me the happiest at the moment. I'm genuinely a bit distraught, and I've been crying a lot for the past few days. A lot of me feels like this is what I am, and this is what I'm good for. That I'm failing myself and every mentor that got me here. Some part of me knows that isn't true, some part of me can't let go of those feelings.

But, I know this doesn't mean "never". So many of the people in my program are significantly older than me, coming back later in life to get their degrees. I'm honestly almost positive that I'll come back to a PhD someday if I quit now. In my 30s or beyond, I think that I'll be able equipped to handle it much better.

So what's next?

Obviously, nothing is decided, and I'm just spitballing here. But I'm honestly shocked at how many viable options I have, in a very good way. A cursory scroll of Indeed was honestly therapeutic. As I said, I still love the academic research environment. I just need more money and stability, and would prefer to have a slightly different relationship to the work I do than a thesis project. Ideally, I would want to be a staff researcher in an institute or academic lab. That lets me keep a lot of the things I like about what I do now, while also making literally 2-3 times the money and having a more stable position.There's positions out there that maximize the contexts I'm the strongest and happiest with, while still being more steady and paying more. Hell, even if my responsibilities were identical, but I had more pay, I could probably more effectively address the personal problems I'm going through right now. I'm gonna stay in California for a lot of reasons, and I'm lucky that there's so many options within the state.

I have a bit of an oddball set of experience. I'll actually have two nonoverlapping master's if I do this. I already have a MS in bioinformatics, which was granted by a CS department. But my current program is in more "pure" molecular and cell biology. I'll have 5 years of grad school, 8.5 years of research experience if I include undergrad research, and instead of a PhD, 2 MSs. Which is kinda funny. But it think it helps represent my experience for what it is. I like to consider myself a "full stack" bioinformaticist- someone who can do both the experimental and analysis portions of experiments that produce large data. Hopefully I'll be able to put that to good use.

I have a lot of professional contacts that I'll slowly be reaching out to over the course of the next 6 months while I tie things up. I know this is a wildshot on tumblr of all places, but if anyone has any recommendations, advice, or contacts, I'm all ears- both for professional and job hunt related things, and also the emotional state I'm in right now.

Thank you to everyone that's made up this wonderful community we have online. I hope I'm not letting anyone down. I'll still be a biologist, I'll still be my trans self. I just won't be "Doctor" anytime soon.

#biology #academia #phd #vent

227 notes · View notes

papaya-twinks · 7 months ago

Text

italian blood - l.n

Warnings: Age Gap!

Pairing: Lando Norris x antonelli!fem!reader

Summary: Lando falls for Kimi’s twin sister

Kimi’s 20 in this, in order for his twin, y/n, to be 20 too. I also made 2025 into 2024 because idk what’s going on and it makes sense to me

part 2

You and Kimi were some of the closest siblings ever - going through each and every formula together, almost like a duo act. And now, with rumours circling of your brother joining F1, you couldn’t not be happy, but you also couldn’t not be hit with a tinge of jealousy. You’d been just as good, if not better, than Kimi, winning an extra F2 title than him.

“Ciao, Kimi, Y/N,” Charles said, seeing the two of you walk down the pit lane, suits hanging low in your waist, having just finished your final practice. “Hey Charles,” you said, waving at him, “a word?”. The Monegasque nodded shortly as you waved off your brother, following the older driver into his garage. “How’s it going?” he asked, watching as you slumped against one of the tables. “Merda (shit),” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, sounding reassuring, “it will simply take time. I’ve put in my word to Fred and Carlos can vouch. Simply putting an Italian in an Italian, well, eh?” he nudged you as you shrugged. “Surely that’s what you want, no?” you asked, eyebrow raised. “Mon dieu (my god), Y/N, the meeting is it a few minutes,” Charles sighed, “let us wait til then,”. And you did so, a few bits of small talk with some engineers before moving to talk to Carlos. And then, you were called in.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Fred ushered you and his drivers into his office as you sat down. “I’m sure you see the position I am in, yes?” he confirmed as you nodded warily. You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at, but nodded anyways, in order to speed up the situation. “We have a variety of options for Carlos’ replacement,” he continued, “Hamilton, perhaps,”.

Wow, he was really pushing you to the edge. “And?” you said, expecting for him to tell you the outcome. “We’ve decided,” he spoke slowly, “to sign you one year,” your eyes widened, “to see how you are,”. Scrambling out your chair, you nodded before rushing out the office, finding Charles. “You got it?” the Monegasque asked, eyes wide at your reaction. “You bet!” you shrieked, throwing your arms round your friend.

And shortly after that, a week or so later, Carlos’ departure was announced, but not your arrival. There was no doubt going to be a lot of controversy over a female racer, there already was in F2, let alone F1. The hate you already got for racing in F2 was hard enough to deal with. Of course, Charles knew, and you were allowed to tell a few people you trusted, such as your best friend, Oscar.

“Wait wait,” he shushed you after you explained, “you’re meaning to tell me…MY best friend is gonna get beaten on track by me?”. You snorted at his words. “I believe the words you were looking for were, ‘beating YOU’,”. Oscar raised an eyebrow, following you down the pit lane. “Well, before you join the dark side…or the red side,” the Aussie said, “stay here for a bit,”.

You scrunched your nose at his comment but followed him to his garage anyways, into the motor home behind. “Right, right,” he said, “you’re gonna need to come to this little dinner with a few drivers,”. You raised an eyebrow, “who’s coming?”. Oscar hummed, before counting on his fingers, “Charles, Max, Carlos, me and Lando,”. You knew Max and Charles, jabbing kitted a few times with Max, and you knew Carlos by extension of Charles.

However, Lando was not someone you knew. Besides, you’d never say no to food, who would? So it was arranged, you were going to meet Charles at the elevator before you left together for the fancy ass restaurant. Choosing an outfit that wasn’t too posh but wasn’t too laid back was probably going to be the main challenge. In the end, you settled on a pretty black dress and some platforms, and a bag to finish off the look.

“Hey Leclerc,” you saw your teammate waiting for you. He was wearing a simple shirt and dress trousers, so you were appropriately dressed. “Looking good, Antonelli,” he raised an eyebrow as he went into the elevator with you. You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before everyone else, see if Carlos and Max in conversation as you sat down, smiling to them.

“Oscar’s on his way, and not sure about Lando,” Max said, handing you a menu. Your conversation was relatively easy and laid back, a few comments about the race before going onto random topics amongst yourselves. Oscar arrived and joined in with you and Charles. The only person left to arrive was Lando. “Finally, mate,” Charles looked up, seeing the young British driver behind me, wearing a white button up shirt, open at the top with a few necklaces, and black dress pants.

“Hey mate,” he leaned over you, before shaking Charles’ hand. You watched as his necklace fell in front of your eyes before he raised an eyebrow at Carlos, gesturing subtly to you. “Ah, Lando,” Charles sai,d realising Lando didn’t know of your job. “This is Y/N,” he introduced you to him, “she’s going to be the new Ferrari driver in ‘24,”. Lando raised an eyebrow, taking in your body and figure, before turning to Carlos.

“She’s your replacement?” he asked the Spaniard, as he nodded. “Right…” he turned back to you, “you have some big shoes to fill,”. You nodded, already aware. “Try to compete with you lot, then,” you shrugged. “Oh Y/N,” Max said with a small smirk, “you can try to compete with us, we’ll be lapping you,” Charles scoffed. “Yeah yeah, don’t get ahead of yourself, this is Ferrari territory,” he huffed.

You rolled your eyes at the boys arguing already before turning to Oscar who was on Lando’s other side. “Help me,” you mouthed, watching Charles on your right as Lando laughed. “You’ll get used to them,” he said sympathetically as the menu was handed to him. The dinner ended up going well, you exchanged number’s with Lando and got on his number. There was no doubt he treated you differently, but it was expected. He almost acted with caution.

“Add her to the group, mate,” Oscar said to Lando as you turned to them. “Well, it comes with a warning label,” he added your contact to it, smiling, “these guys are kinda loony,”. You laughed at his comment, you expected nothing less of the guys around you. “I’m sure you’ll fit in just great,” he nodded to you with a smile. “I hope so,”. The rest of the dinner was finished and Charles drove you home, dropping you to your apartment.

Lando was very nice, he spoke to you a lot, and made sure you felt comfortable, but you had to say, it was a pleasant surprise seeing a text from him already, as soon as you walked into your room.

You grinned at the texts, he was certainly very open to being friends, but the only way to put that to the test would be through racing. You were well aware, throughout other formulas, what competing against your friends could do to your bond with them, and testing the waters now with Lando would be too early. Your train of thoughts was broken by the sound of your phone dinging, a message coming in from your brother.

This was going to be interesting.

Shortly, the 2023 season rolled by, Max winning yet another championship and the seats were announced. Your brother, Kimi, was the new Mercedes driver, and you were the Ferrari driver. Of course, the hate was definite but you only used it to fuel you on and prove them wrong. And finally, you arrived in Bahrain with Charles and testing was to begin.

“The car’s good,” you said, not that you really had much to say, as this was your first F1 car. You were on your 15th lap so far, other drivers behind and in front of you, testing their own cars. “This is good, this is good,” your engineer said over the radio, “we need to box you for new tyres in the next lap, avoid Lando, please,” he said, making you look to your mirror, seeing the orange McLaren behind you.

You turned your head to your right, seeing Lando on your side, a small wave to you as he drove round, going into the next corner. You followed him, you knew it was testing, but a bit of racing wouldn’t hurt, right? “Y/N, what are you doing?” the engineer asked as you sped up, going round Lando on the next corner. You couldn’t see his face or anything, but you could almost sense he understood what you were doing and following you, behind you as he went down the inside on the first corner.

“Y/N, you missed the pit,” your engineer said, “we are not racing Norris,”. You huffed, it was just a bit of fun. “Sorry,” you slowed down, Lando’s car doing the same as he drove alongside you down the back straight. He held his hand up as if to say, ‘what are you doing?’ You shook your head, as if to say, ‘we can’t’. He threw his hand up, exasperated and drove off. You wanted to race him too, but maybe in the next races.

“Y/N Antonelli,” the interviewer smiled to you as you walked into the media pen. You smiled at the full name as he spoke more, “you were rapid on track, setting the fourth fastest time, just behind George, Charles and Lando,”. You grinned again, “Fourth is good an all, but we know a few of the better teams could be sandbagging,” you referred to Max without directly saying it, “and the car’s doing amazing, honestly,”.

The interviewer chuckled before he continued. “On the subject of Lando,” he said, “we saw a bit of wheel to wheel action between you two. This is testing, right?” he joked. You laughed again. “Yeah, well, he went down the inside and I was like ‘why not have some fun’?” you explained, “and he was alright with it, it was just joking around a bit,”. The interviewer hummed, “Is joking around really what should be happening?” he asked, making you raise an eyebrow, “did Lando even do it as a joke, or because you annoyed him?”.

That was the media for you. Creating unnecessary drama, as always. You didn’t say anything, your expression stoic and somewhat pissed. “Good racing, Antonelli,” a voice said behind you, making your cold expression break as you saw Lando. “Have some more of that in the race, yeah?” he shook your hand as you nodded. “Preferably when I’m in front,” you smiled as he clutched his chest. “I’m wounded,” he said dramatically. You shook your head at him.

“To answer your question, I think we both knew it was a joke,” you said triumphantly to the interviewer. This was going to be a very interesting season.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #f1 #lando norris smut

504 notes · View notes

artist-ellen · 9 months ago

Text

Alicent wears her mother’s dress

As someone who held off watching the show properly for a long time, I thought that the dress that Otto Hightower convinces her to wear for Viserys was the green dress. Imagine my surprise when I was listing all the costumes/plot points to redesign that the seduction dress is the "blue-ladder dress". Curveball for the ages. (It's also what happens when only two actors are portraying an almost 20 year time jump over the course of a season.)

When I saw the Blue ladder dress for the first time I nearly laughed. The bodice pattern and the fabric catch the light in a pretty way but the peak-a-boo cut-outs make it a strange modern hybrid that really needed something between the skin and the blue gown. I can see the slashing inspiration but it's just another choice that highlights the lack of chemises and rich layers of fabrics. And we want rich, luxurious fabrics and draping that really highlights what the height of Targaryen power looks like. So... here we are. I kept the blue so the actual Green Dress can stand out later as a bigger change, and I tried to imply that this was a less-Targaryen (Byzantine) inspired fashion. The cut, silhouette, and shape is different. Hopefully creating a visual contrast that Alicent can find ways to replicate later in the season as well.

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram, tiktok or check out my coloring book available now \ („• ֊ •„) /

https://linktr.ee/ellen.artistic

#alicent hightower #team green #fire and blood #house of the dragon #redesigning hotd #ellenart #ellen artistic #character design #digital illustration #costume design #historically inspired #valyrianscrolls #house hightower

643 notes · View notes

darlingletters · 1 month ago

Text

moth to flame lh44

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

in which y/n y/l/n has a new boyfriend and lewis hamilton can’t help but want to remind her how he knows her better.

warnings: cheating, kissing, intimate touching (like cheek touching and stuff), allusions to the devil’s tango, lemme know if there’s any that I missed please.

an: so I haven’t posted in a while but I am back!! hope everyone is doing well. this is my first time writing something like this so if anyone has any tips on how to make it better please let me know. also sorry for any bad grammar/spelling.

should I make a part 2?

anyway this is based on the song moth to flame by the weeknd & swedish house mafia!! absolutely love this song and honestly I was listening to it the other day and got the idea to write to this. I don’t know if anyone else has done, but if so lemme know.

driver list navigation

────────────────────────────

it was 3:45 in the morning.

y/n was supposed be asleep but instead she was wide awake sitting on the sofa on the phone talking to her ex boyfriend whilst her current one slept in the next room.

“come y/n/n, you don’t wanna be with this guy. he doesn’t know you like I do baby.” lewis’ voice almost pleads as he talks.

“this needs to stop. I’ve moved on. you should have too.” she says simply, picking at the blanket that covered her.

“please baby-”

“you have to stop calling me that.” she cuts him off “I ain’t your baby anymore. I stopped being that a long time ago.”

“y/n, he doesn’t know what you need. doesn’t know what to give you. I do.” his pleading continues.

she stays silent. she doesn’t even know how to respond to that. it was true. her boyfriend hadn’t been able to please her in the two years they’d been together. and although she’d never admit it out loud, it was driving her insane.

“I bet he even knows he can’t please you because he knows he can never give you what I gave you.” he says smugly. “because he knows, he can never be better than me.”

“arrogance doesn’t suit you.” she mutters loud enough for him to hear.

“I am not being arrogant. I am being honest.” he responds quickly.

“what do you want from me lewis?” she asks slightly frustrated.

“you. I want you. I want you to admit you want me too.” he states like it’s obvious

“I don’t want you.” lies. but he didn’t need to know that.

“just come cover.” he says simply.

“I can’t.” she whispers.

“why? cause your with him?” he says annoyed, “just leave now. you’ll be back in the morning. I just need to see you baby.” he pleads.

“lewis-”

“come on y/n. just lemme be near you. touch you. that’s all i need.” lewis says almost desperately, hints of desire in his words.

“one hour. I’ll come to you.” she says after a moment of silence.

although she should of felt guilty or even hesitated to answer, she didn’t. she wanted to see lewis. needed to see him. lewis was her first love, probably the only man she would ever truly love.

“I’ll send you the address.” he says, his voice completely lustful as he ends the call and sends the address of a hotel.

- 20 minutes later -

she knocks on his door. her mind filled with guilt and hesitation as she waited for the door to open. however, once the door opened and she caught sight of lewis, those thoughts had quietened.

“lewis.” she says breathily.

in response, lewis smirks and makes space for her to enter.

“you said you wanted to see me, you’ve seen me.” she whispers as she enters the room.

“I also said I wanted to touch you and I haven’t done that yet.” he flirts as he shuts the door and locks it.

“lewis-” she mutters as she closes her eyes.

“come on baby, just let me touch you.” he responds, taking off her jacket as he stands behind her.

“I have a boyfriend.” she says firmly, not turning to face him.

“then why are here? hm?” he whispers in her ear as he stays behind her.

“I- I don’t know.” she mutters.

“you still want me.” he responds as she shakes her head. “yes you do, you still love me y/n. I know you do baby, don’t deny it.” he says turning her around to face him only to see her eyes closed.

they stay in silence for a few moments as lewis looks at her, assessing every detail on her face. memorising her features like he used to when they once shared a bed.

“open your eyes.” he says softly. “lemme see those gorgeous eyes I’ve missed to much.” he speaks again stroking her cheek.

she takes a deep breath as she keeps her eyes closed, determined not to fall for him all over again.

“come on baby, just look at me.” he whispers, brushing his lips against her cheek. “just need you to look at me again.” he repeats, kissing her cheek.

“lewis-” she starts but was quickly interrupted when she felt a kiss on her jaw forcing her to open her eyes.

the sight before her made her wish she had never answered his phone call.

there he was cradling her face like she was a precious piece of art as he looked down at her with pure affection and warmth at finally seeing her looking at him.

“there we go baby, there’s those pretty eyes.” he whispers as he rubs his thumb on her cheek. “god i missed you.” he mutters as he leans his forehead against hers.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.” she mumbles as she shakes her head, pulling away from him and forming distance making his smile drop while he reaches out for her.

“leave that guy. come back to me.” he states firmly, his expression almost desperate.

“we are toxic lewis. we fought all the time, we barely saw each other expect to use each other in bed.” she argues back, putting her hands on her hips.

“it’s been three years y/n. we’ve changed. I’ve changed. that guy doesn’t deserve you.” he says simply taking a step forward towards her which makes her step back.

“and you think you deserve me?” she scoffs.

“no I don’t deserve you. no one fucking deserves you y/n/n. but I love you. more then that guy can.” he takes a step forward. she takes a step back. “I care for you more then him.” step forward. step back. “I touch you better then he does.” he whispers, taking a final step forward until she’s pressed up against the wall. “and you and I both know i can please you better then he does.” he finishes looking at her as she leans back against the wall looking up at him with wide eyes as she breaths heavily.

“lew-” she mumbles out as licks her lips and looks at his lips before quickly looking at his eyes.

“let me kiss you.” he whispers as he leans his head forward and places his hand on her cheek. “please baby let me kiss you.” he pleads, their lips inches away.

she pauses as she keeps her arms planted to her side as she looks at him trying to pull away from him. she looks away from his eyes and back to lips.

“fuck it.” she mutters as she runs her fingers though his hair and kisses him making him immediately return it with a soft groan.

he moves his hands into her hair, “god I missed you.” he says against her lips before going straight back to kissing her.

however, as they kissed, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret wash over her as she thought back to her boyfriend peacefully sleeping in their bed whilst she made out with her ex boyfriend.

────────────────────────────

#ָ࣪ ۰ ⸂ ࣪ darlingletters blog *⋆｡˚ 🤍 ˎˊ˗#⊹ ࣪˖ᝰ ࣪ darlingletters driverslist 🛒 ៹ ࣪˖⁩ ◞ ⋆#formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #lewis hamilton x reader #lh44 #lh44 x y/n #lh44 x you #lh44 imagine #lh44 x reader

169 notes · View notes

6ix9inewiturmom · 8 months ago

Text

The Scare- Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test

A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY

PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.

After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.

“Shit,” I say to my self.

Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.

I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’

“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.

I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?

After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.

I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.

“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs

I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.

“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.

“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.

“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.

“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.

“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.

“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.

Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.

“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.

“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.

“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.

“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.

“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.

“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.

“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.

“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.

“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions

“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.

“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.

“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.

I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.

"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.

As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.

“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.

“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.

The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.

“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.

Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.

“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.

“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.

“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.

Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.

“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.

“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.

Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.

“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.

“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.

“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.

“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.

“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.

As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.

“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.

“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.

The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.

“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.

“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.

“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.

With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.

‘Not Pregnant’

“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.

He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.

“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.

“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.

“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.

“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.

“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.

“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.

“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

398 notes · View notes