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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months ago

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When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.

I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.

I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.

Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.

The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?

“I see here you worked at STORE?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly.

“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”

“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”

He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”

I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”

“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”

“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”

“How much was that one?”

“$110”

“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”

He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.

He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.

I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.

The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.

I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.

Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.

He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.

He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.

I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.

I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.

He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.

I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #writing #story #interview #job interview

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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 month ago

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AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

#my writing #aita reddit parody #third person #original fiction #supernatural #halloween #aita parody

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koishua · 8 months ago

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are... are you doing okay? :(

very respectfully no but it's a work in progress ig it's hitting me harder and harder every day how every decision i ever make will influence other people's interactions with me and i wish i could take it all back :')

#anon asks #im Just angry at the world for not providing me with a teddy bear strapped around me at all times for comfort that's all #also v confused bc is this a platonic or ACTUALLY a romantic crush on my friend #bc this is so so new to me #i have never felt this viscerally before #but something about being three friends in a room and not being the one whos bed she jumped on #and who she fell asleep with #that kind of scarred me for life ngl it stung and hurt like a bitch #i know we're good friends. we hang out and we laugh and have fun and she hugs me too and kissese on the head from time to time #twice. i counted #but that night hurt me so deeply i can't explain it to you #and she's a little closer with the moon. instantly noticed when she's upset and is attached to her and always hugging her #and i know that the moon is just always naturally touchy with everyone and very openly physically affectionate #and im Not (Not bc i don't want to i just don't know how to ask or initiate)#so obv they hug more #but yeah #i sound like a lovesick puppy AND a whiny brat combined oh gosh ew #abort pls feelings abort

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gibbearish · 1 year ago

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i wrote my common app essay on the scp wiki when i was applying to college don’t even worry about it. have you read there is no antimemetics division <- said extremely normally & neurotypically

YESSSSSS THATS MT FAVORITE ONE we are two galaxy brains circling dot gif

#also just recently i read 3449 that one is done SO well #I'm trying to work my way through site 17 rn kind of #also I'm v much likimg the three moon initiative / corbenic / project galahad line especially 3922 #but god the antimemetics lives in my brain 24/7 kwndkshfk ive force both my roommates to listen to me ramble abt it #esp the one w alistair grey 100/10 #gibberasks

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scorpiosbite · 7 days ago

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the time actress!reader mentioned obx in her interview

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── while the obx cast were together in drew’s hotel room madelyn in her ever obsession of game of thrones brought up that you had mentioned how much you love obx in an interview. causing them to watch the interview together.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 and 3 weeks after the first time they watched the show together. at this point of my timeline the cast have watched the entire first season of game of thrones.

drew was scrolling through his phone, you had followed him back on instagram a week ago and he was on the moon. though he hadn’t messaged you yet. unsure on what to say to you. drew prided himself on being a confident man yet, your ability to make him nervous through a screen was unprecedented.

while stalking your profile for the umpteenth time he found himself wondering about you yet again. your limited amount of posts made you even more intriguing to him. he wondered what kind of person you are. what things made you tick, whether you would stare up at him with those siren eyes, whether you moaned or whimpered during sex, whether your face scrunched up and your mouth hung open as your chest heaved like it did in your sex scene that hasn’t left his brain since the moment he watched it.

just as he fell into a spiral of thoughts about you madelyn spoke up from her seat across the room, drawing the attention of everyone else, and drew was suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone in his room. “oh my fucking god! i forgot to tell you guys!” she was staring down at her phone. but drew was having trouble focusing on her, still consumed in his thoughts of you.

the others, however, had no problem driving their attention to her, so drew remained in his bubble staring at the most recent post on your profile, a vogue magazine cover from three months ago, of you, seated, legs spread on the iron throne with the sword dark sister held in your hands standing between your legs, the crown of aegon the conquerer tilted on your head, the lace thigh high socks with garters disappearing under the skirt of your tight mini dress and the bold red coating your lips enticing him further.

it wasn’t till he heard your name slip from madelyn’s lips, was his attention torn from the captivating sight on his screen. “wait, what you just say?” madelyn smirked “of course, only when i say y/n’s name, do you listen.” drew blushed lightly. but didn’t make the move to defend himself, after all they would be right, he had been distracted from the moment he saw you in all your glory stealing the screen.

“what i was saying that y/n mentioned obx in an interview, just pass me the remote, i’ll show you.” drew’s heart rate spiked, the thought of you having seen him in his element, doing his job, made him self conscious in a way that he wasn’t ready to admit. once madelyn had the video loaded on the screen, drew was once again struck by how effortlessly beautiful you are. dressed in simple black pants and an off-shoulder cream long sleeve top, brown boots disappearing under your pants and simple gold hoop earrings, your brunette hair loose and following in natural waves. drew looked at your empty neck and thought how good you would look if there was a necklace with his initial hanging there, branding you as his.

madelyn skipped through the video until the moment you were talking. the interviewer asked you and your cast-mate what shows you watch during your down time when filming, your voice rang through the silent room and drew was struck once again by how attractive your accent sounded, your british accent deep and sultry but more casual than the tone you use when playing visenya. “oh, well mimi and i love outer banks a lot, to the point where we quote it on set quite often. i think we’ve annoyed everyone.” you laughed and drew thought about how he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

your cast mate and best friend, mimi who plays arianne martell laughed and agreed and the interviewer who was surprised by your answer said that obx was one of her favourite shows too. your face immediately brightened as you watched her intently as she spoke about the show. what drew would give to have you look at him like that.

madelyn paused the video and drew knew that once everyone had left his room he was going to watch the entire video. “that’s so cool!” jd gasped. “i know right? that’s so crazy that she’s seen our show.” madison replied. but drew couldn’t bring himself to speak, he wondered what you thought of him after watching his performance. he wondered if you had the same all consuming thoughts he had about you, about him.

“i followed her when i first watched the show and she followed me back, but after seeing that clip a week ago i messaged her and we’ve been talking back and forth ever since, she’s so fucking cool, it’s insane. i think we’re friends now!” madelyn raved. “you’re friends with her?!.” drew was baffled, how was madelyn just bringing this up, she has known about his developing crush for weeks. “ah, now you want to chime in drew?” “yes, we’re friends and she’s gonna be in la when we get back so i told her she should come hang out with us, what you guys think?”

drew’s heart felt like it was going a mile a minute, he was gonna meet you. what the fuck.

thank you for all the love on the first part i’m so grateful. and for everyone who wants to be added to the tag list i’m figuring out how to do that so please be patient with me. also please send me asks about this au i would love to do like a drew starkey x actress!reader thoughts thing, but let me know what you thought of this part!

#𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 actress!reader x drew starkey works #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fluff

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moonlight-prose · 3 months ago

Text

SWEETNESS OF THE DAMNED

a/n: this was a quick drabble at first, but somehow turned into an allegory for persophone and hades. which isn’t surprising for me given that i’m already plotting october fics. logan isn’t a monster in this, nor is he a vampire even though the vibe and title may give that off. i just really love gothic vibes in everything i write so who better to give it to than old man logan.

summary: when night falls and wine overflows in glasses of crystal, logan finds his home in between your thighs.

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, p in v sex, alcohol consumption, allegories for persephone and hades, biting, scratching even though he heals, cumplay, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, older logan is so filthy i’m blushing.

The acrid embers of the fire burned your nose the deeper your breaths became. Red wine remained chocolatey and bitter on your tongue; the dinner you tried to eat quickly was now forgotten in favor of something else. You thought you could smell the cigar he smoked on the porch an hour ago on his bare skin. You couldn't.

Not when his fingers dug into your hips, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. He grunted with each slap of skin. The wet slick of how he pounded into you echoed loud and bright in the cabin.

You would have been embarrassed if it weren't for the sounds he let out. The way his eyes fell shut the closer you got to that fiery peak.

"C'mon baby," he sighed, ragged and needy. "I can feel ya."

Wine had gone to your head the second he poured you a third glass. Your red dress of crushed velvet lay in a heap on the floor. A pair of his jeans and a shirt beside it. The soft fabric of his flannel was smooth beneath your knees where he dropped it. Careful to keep your skin from going raw as he took you before dinner could even finish.

The alcohol is what brought this night to an early conclusion.

You already knew it would happen. Hoped for it on long days with hours that stretched for miles. Ached for his presence when you curled up in bed—the scent of his body still stuck on the cotton sheets. Logan promised to give you everything with a soft kiss at the door, his fingers gripping your chin to hold you there a minute longer. To slip his tongue past your maroon painted lips and lick along your teeth.

"'S too much," you garbled.

He laughed as you clenched around his leaking cock—tearing a deep moan from his chest. The heat of his body burned its way into yours where the fireplace couldn't reach. Each muscle and ridge along his stomach pressed into your back—his hips strong enough to break you slowed into punishing thrusts that bounced you on his thighs.

Time didn't exist; seasons began to blend into one.

The both of you resided where spring met summer and the shadow of night met fall's full moon. You wore a crown of wilted flowers—red spilling over your hands from where he asked you to bite into his skin. This was your damned hour. Your time of need.

You were the other half of an already broken soul, and he found that in your absence he couldn't hold it together for quite as long.

"You feel that?" His hand cupped your cunt—fingers spread around where he ended and you began. "She's leakin' for me baby."

"L-Logan," you gasped your throat thick with too many emotions.

The slow grind of his hips into yours sent your body hurtling towards yet another release. Your stomach was sticky where his other hand pressed - already coated in the three before. Holding onto the fraying pieces of your mind proved to be difficult when his teeth latched onto your shoulder. His fingers drew a shape around the edge of your throbbing clit.

His initials.

"You want another one don't ya honey?"

Yes. No. Please never fucking stop.

Instead all you could get out was a whine of his name. Your back arched into his hold, head pressed hard against his chest, as you fought to keep up with him. To grind against his lap and feel the drag of his cock along your walls.

"Yeah. You do," he murmured against your ear. "She wants to be good for me."

Down in the base of your stomach you felt the familiar pull of bliss begin to draw tight. You knew what came next. The rush of mind numbing pleasure trickled into your veins. Slowly drawing you higher with each stunted thrust—each echo of his fingers toying with your stretched cunt. You could count the seconds until it finally burst.

"I'm gonna–" The breath caught in your throat, hands clasping around his wrists as something shifted. "F-Fuck. Logan I'm–"

"Fuck yeah ya are," he grunted into your neck. "Gonna lick you clean after this. Get my fuckin' dessert."

His cock pounded deep against your walls, fingers pulling up the hood of your clit to circle rapidly against nerves that were already shot. And you sobbed his name. Your nails drew red angry marks on his arms that healed moments later; your body too fucking rigid and too hot to process what the fuck he was doing.

Elysium and the River Styx were ripping you apart. As if you were being pulled in two very different directions.

A clatter echoed beside you when he reached for your glass of wine, still stained with the now faded red of your lipstick. You felt his thigh shake—his cock twitching in the heat of your body. You wondered if this is what it felt like to burn alive. The sweet aching bliss of being held by your lover as he drowned you in the fire. Would this be how he took you to the Underworld?

The cold wash of wine spilled along your body as he poured out the remainder of the glass. His tongue quickly dragged across your blistering skin—drinking the cabernet off your body with a raspy groan of your name.

"'M almost there." He gripped the back of your neck and yanked you back with a kiss. His tongue plunging into your mouth—sharing the wine as his fingers pressed hard and fast against your swollen bud. "Give it to me huh? Fuckin' cum on my cock."

Your release ripped through your body with a scream. The echo of his name came back to you eventually, yet you couldn't figure out if you were the one saying it. With your nails piercing his skin, he felt you gush, choking his cock and milking him dry. A splatter of something wet landed on his thighs as he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you still.

To bury himself as deep as he could go and finish with a blissful ragged groan against your shoulder. Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over your spent body and you felt him fill you until it began to leak out. Coating the inside of your thighs.

"Are you breathing?" he chuckled, lips sliding along your neck to find your mouth.

You answered with a whimper. Which proved enough for him.

The stickiness of the wine began to dry against your bare body while his fingers dragged through the mixture of your cum that stuck to your thigh. He sighed—content and warm—as he lowered himself to the floor. His back pressed against your clothes and softening cock still buried in your dripping cunt.

"Speak to me bub." His fingers tapped your cheek, nose nudging against your jaw. "I can't have killed ya."

"You almost did," you mumbled, barely able to open your eyes.

Exhaustion sunk right down to your bones the longer you lay there wrapped in his arms. You knew the both of you should shower. Clean up and actually eat something in its entirety this time around. Logan would say the same if it weren't for the comforting press of your weight against his body. He cupped your breasts, thumbs toying with your peaked nipples, and kissed you with a sigh.

The both of you should say something to get the other moving. Yet neither of you did.

Instead you were met with silence and the crackle of the fire. Time, now a nonexistent variable to a night spent in each other's arms.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #my writing

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cregansdingdong · 3 months ago

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imagine cregan and y/n breaking the bed one night just because of his sheer strength and muscle whilst pounding her, ik the conversation with the winterfell wood crafter would be awks as hell afterwards whilst asking for it to be repaired 😇😇

IM HAVING A PROPHETIC VISION, ANON.

At this point, Cregan and his boo thang are just going to have to become familiar with the man. There is no other option, because your choices are either to have this embarrassing conversation a multitude of times with multiple woodcrafters or just one. Because if y'all think this is a one-time thing, you are terribly mistaken.

Cregan is a very passionate person in bed, regardless if he's on top or not. He wants to make sure the two of you are satiated—that does mean the bed will snap like a twig under a boot i dont make the rules i just work here. Personally, I find the actual deliverance of the bedframe to be the most mortifying. Firstly, that big ass broken bed has to be dismantled and removed, if it's not fixable, which takes manpower, and then the new one brought into the Great Keep and put together. Otherwise, the woodcrafter is going to have to make a house call and show up with his tools and planks, walking toward your marital chambers which is embarrassing too :)

ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. (thoughts ver.)

NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

That familiar groan under his weight should've been the first warning sign, but Cregan was too distracted to notice. He was lapping at her pretty cunt, tongue delving as deep as he could go and as thorough as he could be without the motions being too unsteady. Alright maybe he did notice initially, but the thought was very quickly shoved to the back of his mind—especially when his pretty wife was trying to rock herself onto his nose, letting out the most quiet of whimpers muffled by their sheets. His ears were focused on her and her only.

With her pearl rubbing against his bridge and his cock feeling so strained in his trousers, no one could really blame him for forgetting about the delicate state of the bed in an instant. Last time they’d gotten particularly frantic in their lovemaking, there had been a low snap somewhere beneath the mattress, a taunt that he was probably too hefty to be moving so much. But winter was coming, a man’s gotta eat…in more ways than one.

By the time he’d recalled they should begin to take it easy on the bed, he was already balls deep behind her, hands gripping the flesh of her ass like a lifeline. He was suffocating in the best way, cock nestled inside, fogging his brain with nothing but instinct. And then she started begging. By then, well, he decided they needed a new bed anyway—six moons wasn’t too bad. Lasted longer than the previous replacement. Three harsh, unrelenting spanks bloom red on her backside as she squeezes around him, sending his blood pumping to the beat of an imaginary war drum. It would be a miracle from the Gods if she wasn’t pregnant by mid-summer. Cregan just couldn’t help himself.

Rutting against her like a man starved, the right side of the bed almost completely collapses, caving in and nearly throwing him off balance. His wife gasped, pleasure momentarily halted as she looked back at him. “Again? Seriously? I told you to write to him last time, did you?” The answer was no, no he did not. “It might have…slipped…my mind.” He murmured, trying to ignore the throbbing in his full balls. They had a silent conversation of glares and a sheepish grin. Then she concedes. “...We might as well finish then. I doubt it can get any worse.”

It could, actually. And it did. He came hard some twenty minutes later, pounding their hips together with a steady desperation. The dip of the broken side was a little annoying, but manageable. Without the support, the right beams of the canopy end up falling right down. No one was harmed, of course. It was only drapes. Cregan found it almost comical but his wife did not. It was going to be a long letter.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

#dingdonganswers #hotd #house of the dragon #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark smut

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