#i was saving this article for lunch and… worth it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honey-flustered · 2 years

Text

Cruel Little Vixen 1

Rockstar!Perv!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Enemies to Friends to Lovers (18+MDNI)

Summary: Lacking in magazine sales, your boss assigns you to follow the life of Lead Singer/Guitarist of Corroded Coffin ‘Francis The Freak’ a.k.a. Eddie Munson for a month to write an article that could potentially save the magazine. Eddie Munson wanted fame but didn’t know the consequences of this include pretending to be someone he’s not. When rumors begin to float around causing some notoriety for his reputation, his manager agrees to an exposé of his life to make him seem nicer to a broader audience much to Eddie’s chagrin. Now the two of you are set to make your time together a living hell.

A/N: So my side blog Usetheeauthor has been shadowbanned for about 3 days now. I’m currently working on getting that undone but until then will be posting some of my work here. This is a new story. It’s 8 parts maybe. It was meant to be a one shot smut but I love writing series so here we go!

>>>>>Series Masterlist Part 1 of 8

Series Music Playlist

Word Count: 5.0k+

Warnings: graphic language, violence, sexual content, sexual tension, misogyny, gross!eddie, perv!eddie, mean!eddie, mean!reader

It’s Friday night and the air is thick. Bodies pressed up against bodies yet it to each fan present it was all worth it. The crowd roars as the members of the band Corroded Coffin walk onto the stage. There was Drummer Jessie Blue, Bass Guitarist Mel Tomas, Background Vocals/Pianist Judas Argo, and finally…Lead Guitarist/Lead Vocals Francis The Freak, the man you once knew as Eddie Munson.

When he got famous, he changed more than just his name. He was an entirely different guy from who you knew back in high school. You never knew him much. Hardly crossed paths but he was actually quite polite the few encounters you’ve had. Now you couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time you see him on TV. He’s an absolute douchebag yet his fans eat it up. Trying to see the appeal would be considered beyond your comprehension.

Tonight was the night you’d put your disdain for him aside. You needed to remain professional if you were going to get through this article about ‘Francis The Freak’. Your job had assigned you the mission to spend an entire month with the rockstar gaining insight on his personal life as a means of bringing up sales for the magazine company. You hesitantly accepted the mission. Although you knew this could be your big break, you couldn’t possibly see yourself enjoying this time knowing the kind of person Eddie was now. Nonetheless, you took the challenge, attending the concert as your first assignment in diving into the life of the rockstar.

Your intentions for the article was to write the truth regardless of the ugliness of it. However, the group’s manager believed you’d write anything that would make Eddie Munson look good. As ‘Francis The Freak’, Eddie had a bad reputation because of his bad boy persona. He was rude, loud, messy, violent…pretty much everything people should hate but the crowd loved it. The backlash really came from the parents of his younger fans who feared the 80s rockstar dabbled in satanic worship. This obviously affected some album sales. So in hopes of showing his humane side, the manager agreed to the exposé. It’s a quid pro quo kind of situation. They get the album sales, your company gets more magazine sales.

The metal band begins to play it’s first song, “Cruel Little Vixen” and the crowd immediately goes wild.

“Stay away from her, She’s a disaster. Rips your heart out then eats it for supper. She has no fucking desire to fit in. Watch for her fangs, She’s a cruel little vixen.”

Even if you weren’t a fan of their music, you could admit that the songs were really catchy and you’d even found yourself swaying to the rhythm. It’s captivating witnessing someone from your high school being incredibly famous. Here you were looking up at a man you once saw stood himself on top of the lunch table and make an impromptu speech about denouncing popularity. You’d always got the feeling he’d become famous. After all, he is super talented, charismatic….really good looking.

You felt like a fish out of water. You’d never been to a metal concert before and there were things that made you question whether some things were a regular occurrence. Like when the girls would beg for Eddie Munson to spit on them or the men who’d pour beers on their heads as proof of their devotion.

By the end of show, you were left both befuddled but entertained. It was quite a show and slowly you understood the hype.

Once Corroded Coffin thanked their fans, they headed off stage to their dressing quarters. This was your move now. You flashed your backstage pass to the security guards strutting your way to the dressing rooms when you noticed a line of fans waiting to meet their idols.

Scanning the area, you spotted the manager of the group trying to control the screaming fans. You walked up the man, clearing your throat. His eyes land on you, confused.

“Look, Toots, I already let these girls know that the band’s not ready to meet anyone right now. If want to see ‘em you’ve gotta wait til ya get the say so. Alright?”

“Okay. No. It’s Y/N. Not ‘Toots’. Mr. Neds, I’m from Tone Magazine. We spoke over the phone about 3 hours ago. I’m here to interview Mr. Francis.”

His face loses color and mouth goes agape, realizing his mistake. “Um, erm, I-I apologize, Ms….”

“Y/L/N,” You answered, trying not to roll your eyes. He pretended as if he didn’t remember your name. You were one of the biggest writers out there and he dared to play this act all because you were a women when he desired a male interviewer. The desire for an male interviewer solely based on the idea that you’d only fall for his charms, fuck him, and forget all about the article. It’s sexist and tasteless accusation to say the least. “Am I allowed to go in now?”

“He’s a little busy.” Mr. Neds chuckles nervously.

“I can deal with bratty rockstar behavior, Mr. Neds. I’ve got nothing to fear.” You brushed past him, walking into the dressing room only for your eyes to land on a fully clothed Eddie Munson pounding away inside a fully naked groupie girl seated spread eagle in his dressing room chair. You let out a loud gasp causing them to look in your direction. Quickly, you shut the door.

“Umm, so he was definitely ‘busy’.” You say, a tinge of embarrassment creeping up on your face.

“One second.” The manager says putting up his index finger then rushes inside. You put an ear to the door, you can hear muffled yelling. Then, the door swings open and it’s the groupie girl who’s now disheveled and angry, shooting you a look before walking away.

Mr. Neds exits the room, letting out a big breath. “So, that’s cleared.”

“O-okay, I guess I’ll go—”

“Wait,” He halts you in your tracks. “There are several things you need to know about interviewing Francis.”

“Okay.”

“So far we’ve gone through 3 interviewers before you. Francis isn’t easy to interview. In fact, he hates them so he does things to ruin them. First interviewer was a woman. Fucked him and wrote a revenge hate article about him when he avoided her calls. At least if it were a man, they wouldn’t write fake crap because they’re pissed at Francis avoiding them, too. So I hope you understand, I still have my biases about you being female.”

“A bit discriminatory since men would definitely write lies as well but go on.”

“So, first don’t fall for his flirting. Second, he’ll try to flip the interview on you. He’ll ask you questions and you’ll completely forget the task at hand. Like the second interviewer we worked with, Eddie started asking him questions, guy realizes he never wanted to be a writer and was only trying to appease his mother, never wrote the article. Lastly, Francis may not speak at all. Or he’d just give you a hard time, circling around or giving vague answers. Ended up driving the last interviewer to the brink of insanity trying to get a word out of him. Made that guy also quit the field altogether.”

“Pardon my french but he sounds like a pain in the ass.” You admitted.

“A pain in my brain to be more exact. I literally take medication to ease the amount of migraines I get dealing with these boys. But their my boys at the end of the day.”

You nod although you just couldn’t agree with someone deteriorating their health for the raising of 4 grown bratty rockstars.

“Simply remain unwavering but polite maybe slightly kiss-assery.” He continues to advise.

“I think I go it.”

“Good. Then by all means, you are free to go.” He makes a slightly bow, gesturing you to the door.

“Nice! Thank you.”

“Hey, how does she get to go inside?” One awaiting fan asks.

“Yeah?” Another chimes in.

You walked in the room, choosing to let the manager deal with that on his own. When you entered, you were given a moment to look around the room. Eddie’s bandmates were in the room the whole time in the back playing video games unfazed by his previous tryst.

You shook your head in disgust until your eyes landed on Eddie. He’s sitting on top of the vanity table, lightbulbs around the mirror shining behind him like he was a divine being. He was even more gorgeous up close. His beautiful dark curls cascading a little passed his shoulders, soft red lips, body filled with tattoos, beautiful chest sweaty with the exertion of tonight’s show, his happy trailing leading down to his leather pants constricting over his large…(gasp) He’s watching you! You immediately snapped out of your trance faking a smile.

“Mr. Francis! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You held out your hand. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N from Tone Magazine. I’m a huge fan of your band.”

He looks down at your outstretched hand then back at your face, refusing to shake it. You awkwardly lower your hand.

“Huge fan, huh? You didn’t look like you were based off your reactions during the show.”

“Y-you seen me in the crowd.”

“You were about a couple feet away from front row. It’s kinda hard to miss.” He flicks at his lighter, lighting the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Right.” You nod. Obviously there were so many fans within the crowd. You still felt surprised that out of all the faces in the sea of people that he’d looked at and remembered yours.

He gestures you to have a seat. The seat where he’d recently plowed someone in.

“No thanks.” You declined.

He smirks. “Why?”

He finds this amusing!

“I’m just more comfortable standing.”

He shrugs, taking another drag his cigarette.

“S-so, could you tell me a little about your upbringing, Mr. Francis?” You pull out your little journal and pen from your jean’s pocket, anticipating his answer.

“You can call me Eddie. I’m not on stage.”

“Of course.” You nod still awaiting his answer.

He just stares back at you, smoking. He’s giving you the silent treatment. It’s cute that he thinks that that’ll work on you.

“I’m fine standing here in silence, by the way,” You say, dropping your fan persona. “Your body language will only reveal to me what you wish not to speak.”

“Oh yeah?” There’s a glint of interest in his eyes.

“Mhmm,” You confirmed. “Like the way you’re manspreading right now. It indicates to me that you wish to assert your dominance over me. I’m not intimidated though. I work mostly around men. Deal with that shit practically everyday. And this relaxed ‘i don’t give a fuck’ attitude is all act. I think you care a lot. You want this interview as badly as your manager does because you want people to love you again.”

“That all you got?”

“You’re 21, a huge metalhead in high school, liked D’n’D, and you’re a huge dork.”

He snorts then chuckles. “Anyone could get that information. In Hey Hello Magazine’s interview, I expressed some of these aspects of my childhood.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t voluntarily read Hey Hello Magazine. Besides, I’m just that good.” You lied obviously you went to school with him so you’d know these things but he didn’t remember you so you’ll use this to your advantage.

He hops off the vanity dresser, sauntering over to you. His combat boots hitting against the floors loud enough for you to tune out the noise of the members hooting and hollering in the background from their video game fun.

When he’s finally in front of you, he towering over you. You never remembered him to be so tall. You look up at him holding his gaze so he knew that you weren’t fazed.

“Now tell me what I’m thinking right now?” He says face only inches from yours.

“I can tell you what I’m thinking. I think you should step away from me or else I’ll be forced to defend myself. You reek of sex and sweat.”

His face is blank at first. You worried you went to far with your assertiveness but then he smiles down at you. He finds you a lot more entertaining than moments ago.

“Ya know what I’m in the mood to meet some fans. Boys! How ya feeling? Should we get out there?” Eddie calls out to his bandmates.

“Yeah, why the hell not?” Mel Tomas speaks up ending the game. The remaining boys quickly follow heading over to the front of the room.

“Wait! What about the interview?” You say while trying to hold your composure.

“We’ll get to that…eventually.” Eddie winks.

—————

Eventually was as close to never than it was to soon. Eddie purposefully took time with each fan going over the allowed time per fan. Every now and then, he’d look at you behind him, shooting you a teasing smirk. He knew you had little time on your hands with him today. This was his little game. What he didn’t know was that you were willing to be player two. For now, you’ll be patient. You’ll be good. Slowly, you could break him the way he thinks he’ll break you.

Once the signings were completed, the boys headed back to the dressing rooms to gather their things for departure. The other boys were a lot more kinder to you even asking you questions about being the only girl working as a writer for Tone Magazine.

The entire band was attractive. Attractive enough that it made you feel a little insecure. You weren’t ugly, quite the opposite actually, but you’d always worn things that people would deem you as a plain jane or basic. You didn’t stand out much because you were comfortable in the background. That’s the way you liked things. As a writer that’s how it worked, you let your words speak for you not your appearance. So it wasn’t surprising that neither of the men tried to hit on you although you couldn’t say it didn’t get to you with the way they’d flirted with the other girls.

“So how’s the first day?” Eddie asks you, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Terrible actually. I picked up no significant information out of you. If you would’ve only cooperated, I would’ve gotten what I needed for today and you’d still get to meet and greet your fans without me moping in the background.”

“Except I wanted you to suffer. I like seeing you mad at me, kitten.”

“Don’t call me that. I already had to chastise your manager for calling me ‘Toots’. I’m not your pet so don’t give me a pet name. My name is Y/N.”

“What’s your deal, anyway? Laugh a little. You’re so fucking uptight that if I were to stick a lump of coal in you, it’d come out a diamond.”

You can feel yourself begin to burn with rage. “That is a complete misconception. Coal cannot turn into diamond!”

“Way to get ‘em there, Y/N.” You thought, sarcastically.

“And I’m not uptight,” You continued, your back pressed against the dressing room door and journal clutched to your chest. “You have been rude, crass, and extremely obnoxious. You know what, I think I’ve gotten all that I needed for Day 1’s article actually. So, I thank you in a way for giving me exactly what I’ve been looking for. I can already see the headline now: Francis The Freak is a narcissistic—”

His hands slam hard against the door, resting them on either side of your head. You jolt at the sudden action, rendered speechless. He’s staring down at you the way a predator stares down at its prey but then he gives you his famous toothy smile.

“I look forward to reading it…kitten.” He whispers, saying the pet name in broken syllables for emphasis.

You stare up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Mustering up the little courage you have, you pry one hand from around you, searching around for the door knob while your eyes remained lock to his.

He looks down between you before removing himself slowly from you, his expression still littered with amusement. You managed to open the door, glaring at him one last time then walked out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

—————

“And then he called me uptight and invaded my personal space. The guy’s such a fucking asshole.” You were currently having a bottle of red wine and venting with your best friend and roommate Chrissy Cunningham.

“I know but he’s sooo hot. Ya know, he once had a huge crush on me back in high school.”

“You only ever bring it up nearly every time you see him on television.”

She chucks popcorn at you, giggling. “Shut up! I only bring it up all the time because I was so close to fucking him. When Jason and I broke up, I was more than ready to give in. I chickened out last minute because silly me had feelings for Jason. I regret it. But he did end up eating me out and I swear to you I met God that day. He didn’t even ask for anything in return just enjoyed making me cum. They don’t call him ‘freak’ for nothing.”

You and Chrissy also went to the same high school along with Eddie. You weren’t friends with her either since she was the popular cheerleader and you were more of an in-betweener. She was always very sweet so you never had any ill comments about her. When you’d both gone to college, your friendship formed there and the two of you became inseparable.

“I could’ve went on happily without knowing this,” You laughed. “I already had my pure eyes tainted by him penetrating some random girl before me.”

“That’s just the life of a rockstar, baby.” Chrissy shrugs.

“It’s exactly why I could never date a musician.”

“Yeah, same. Unless you can give me his digits.” She says sticking her tongue playfully.

“I love you too much to put you through that. Trust me, you don’t want to deal with him.”

“I’m sure they all can’t be bad. What about Jessie the drummer?”

“Oh, he’s the sweetest. Very polite. Complete opposite of Eddie. Actually had a great convo with him. Wish I were interviewing him instead but he’s not the one in need of clean slate.”

“And Mel the guitarist?”

“He’s intelligent but super condescending at times. Doesn’t mean to be, though. He’s like the philosopher of the group.”

“Judas the Pianist?”

“British.”

“British isn’t a personality trait.” She laughs.

“It might as well be. But I guess I can say he’s shy but also really funny when he gets going. The artistic one.”

“So then what does that make Francis The Freak?”

“The bad boy minus the sensitive side. Total douchebag.”

“I just can’t see that with Eddie. He was an absolute sweetheart when I knew him.”

“Fame changes you. Honestly, he’d still treat you a lot more nicer than he would me. You’re what he’s expected to interview him so he can gawk and stare at.”

“Oh, come on. You’re so pretty. If I were into girls, you’d be my type.”

You snort, shaking your head. “You’re only saying that because your my friend.”

She cups your face lifting your head to face her. “No. I mean it. And you should give him a chance. It was only the first day. You’ve got 30 more to go. Who knows maybe you’ll be a huge Francis The Freak fan at the end of it?”

You pull away from her embrace. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

—————

The next day, you were given a call from your boss who didn’t seem pleased by the first article you’d written. You’d think he’d be happy with this kind of story since it would make up for the juicy content needed to boost sales.

“You could’ve at least ran it by me before you decided to publish it.” He yells into the phone.

“I’m truly sorry, Mr. Bauman. But this is my experience unfiltered. Even if you were to intervene, I’d write the same thing. The people need to know. If anything, I wasn’t nearly as a harsh as I’ve should of been.”

He sighs. “What will I do with you?”

“Maybe give me a promotion?”

“Nice try but no. You hadn’t proven to me that you’re ready for that. I believe in you. I do, Y/N. Obviously, I’m an advocate for women in male dominated work spaces but...”

You rolled your eyes, knowing where this will lead. It was always advocacy for women but you’d always receive the short-end compared to your male counterparts.

“You can’t let your emotions get the best of you.”

“So, I’m just an emotionally fueled woman is, that it?”

“Not what I said.”

“You actually did maybe not explicitly but it’s very apparent.”

“I’m only giving you advice. Boys will be boys. They’re young rockstars who are used to being hounded by interviewers. He’s obviously not taking it seriously because he’s over it but if you befriend him first then maybe he’ll get to talking.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh. “I guess I’ll be…nicer.”

“Good. Now I’ll need you to drive to this address today. 3638 Birch Street. It’s Francis’s home. You’ll be spending day 2 with him all day.”

“All day?!”

“That’s what I said. Good luck and be nice.” He quickly hangs up the phone just as you were about to protest.

You huffed. This is going to be torturous.

—————

You arrived at the home which although large was surprisingly humble for his status. Ringing the doorbell, you awaited patiently for someone to answer the door.

The door opens revealing Eddie in only a robe, his hair messy. You were surprised to see that he’d answered and not his staff. His smile quickly drops.

“Oh, it’s you.” He groans in a disappointed tone. “I was hoping it was the pizza guy.” He turns around then turns to look at you again. “Unless you have pizza.”

“No!”

He rolls his eyes and mutters, “Come in.”

“Thanks for the warm welcome.” You say sarcastically, following him in.

You looked around. There was no staff whatsoever. No guards, or maids, or butlers. Simply just Eddie. It was actually refreshing seeing someone who’s clearly so rich not care for those things.

“Did you read my article, by the way?” You say, smiling smugly.

“Yes, I did.”

“I hope you learned your—”

“I love it.” He simply states causing you to have a full stop moment.

“You love it?” You asked incredulously.

He nods. “That part where you said ‘I attempted to see his point of view in life but then I realize I couldn’t get my head that far up my ass.’ It was actually pretty clever.”

“Why aren’t you pissed off?”

He leans across the island table between you two. He’s the one that’s smug now, knowing that he’s won this round. “I think it was witty, funny, somewhat true. Except you forgot one thing.”

“What’s that?” You crossed your arms.

“That I made you blush. You felt things that you probably hadn’t felt in a long time. Possibly never.”

You stutter and stammered. “I-I’ll have you know that it wasn’t that I was blushing. I was just embarrassed by the situation entirely. I may have shown my bitchiness a bit too soon and now it’s causing this rift between us when I only meant to befriend you.”

“You were?” His eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Well, yeah. But now I’m not so sure I’d like to be friends.”

“Hey, I think we can definitely be friends. I’m willing to bury the hatchet. After all, your article did help boost my popularity a little.”

“How on earth?”

“People find the situation hilarious. Now I’m seen as some funny yet eccentric troublemaker,” He puts a hand to his chest, sporting a fake sincere look. “I’ve gotta thank you for the boost, friend.”

You seethed.

Eddie - 2, Y/N - 0

“I’m gonna go for a swim.” He says walking around the island counter.

“What about the interview?”

“Geez, you’re like a broken record. If you wish to get to know me, why not try to make it subtle and fun? You can always take a swim with me, too.”

You thought back to the advice your boss told you. You were approaching this the wrong way after all. Befriending him was your best bet.

“You can go for a swim but I’m not going in with you.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Just go in your underwear.”

“Oh, hardy har har but no. This is meant to be strictly professional.”

Eddie stands in front of you. You shoot him a look of confusion only to morph to shock when you notice him untying the robe.

“No.” You turn your face away the very second he throws it open.

“Relax. It’s nothing you haven’t seen.”

“I immediately excused myself when I walked in. Didn’t even allow myself the chance to linger for a second. I do not wish to see your dick now.”

“And you won’t. I’m wearing swim trunks underneath,” He puts a black polished finger under your chin, turning you to face him once again then tugs at your chin to look down. He was, in fact, wearing swim trunks but god his body this close looks so appetizing now that he’s wearing even less. “See. I wouldn’t intentionally flash you. It’s not what friends do.”

“Then why’d you trick me like that?”

“Because I like seeing you mad, remember?” He lets go of your chin and heads out to the backyard.

“Friends don’t like making their friends mad!” You called out after him.

————

You were currently sat at the poolside, journal in hand while Eddie swam away answering questions with less resistance.

“This is a pretty big house. Must get lonely being all by yourself.”

“I don’t live alone.”

“Who is she?”

“He’s my uncle. Took care of me most of my life while my mother was in and out of my life and my dad in and out of prison.”

“Oh,” You felt terrible for assuming. “Your uncle seems like a very strong person. I’m glad he took the tole of being your guardian.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely strong. I’d do everything I could to pay him back for all the times he’s cared for me. I wasn’t an easy kid but he stuck it out when my parents couldn’t.”

“Seems like you’re providing him just that kind of appreciation.”

“I guess. But I could do more. I want to make sure he never has to worry about anything ever.”

Today was genuinely surprising for you. Chrissy was right. Maybe he’s still a sweetheart.

You look up from writing, noticing things had gone quiet. Eddie was nowhere to be found. The moment you thought to peer over to look in the water, Eddie springs out of the water right front of you causing you to throw the notebook into the pool.

“Eddie! You dick!”

“You can just write it again.”

“I had really good things to say. Now I’ll completely forget them.”

“It’s at the bottom of the pool. You wanna go get it?”

“What do you mean if I want to go get it?” He gives you a mischievous look, his hands resting on your thighs. Your eyes widened. “No, Eddie. No.”

It was too late. Eddie yanks you down into the pool and you go underwater. You’re frightened. You couldn’t swim so all you could do was hold onto him for dear life.

You both come up for air, your arms and legs are wrapped around him tightly. He’s laughing but you were trembling like a wet chihuahua. Then, he notices the fear in your eyes and he grows concerned.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Can’t swim. I’m scared.” You were in the deeper side of the pool your biggest fear.

He rubs your back to comfort you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I always assume everyone can swim. That was really crappy of me. Let’s get you out of here.”

His hands cup under your butt, lifting you back up onto the poolside. Then, he pulls himself up. Your knees were to your chest, still trembling.

Eddie felt terrible. He was only having harmless fun. He didn’t mean to scare you this badly. Taking a towel, he wraps it around your body then rubs his hands over your arms.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, eyes pleading for you to answer.

“Um, it’s okay,” You finally say. “I should tell you. I have a fear of swimming pools. It’s a stupid phobia. I know but it’s because of a traumatic experience I had in my childhood.”

“Like you nearly drowned?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” He says once again.

“You already said that.” You laughed.

“I know. I just feel like shit.”

“That’s a first,” You remove the towel from your body. “Maybe I should go home. I could get some new clothes and be right back.”

“Or I can hand you some clothes while yours are put in the dryer.”

“It would save me a trip.” You shrugged.

You noticed Eddie stare before his eyes quickly avert. And was he…blushing?

You looked down at your white top. It’d gotten wet and your nipples were erect and visible even through your black lace bra. You shot one arm over your while the other lightly shoves him.

“You perv! You wanted this to happen.”

“No, I swear.”

“Oh, right.”

“Have I been dishonest with you?”

“Plenty.”

“Name one time.”

So much for having a friendly moment, the two of you bickered back and forth well up until the pizza arrived. While he munch away at his slice, you watched him from the corner of your eye admiring his ranges of emotions. He was more than just an angsty ball of horniness. He can be a decent guy when he’s more comfortable with you. It was nice to see him so concerned for your well-being but what really made you feel a little giddy inside was the fact that you managed to make him blush, too.

1K notes · View notes

effortandmore · 1 year

Text

worth all your while (ch.5) | knj x f!reader

chapter summary: you and namjoon have been going along to get along, but you've yet to really define your relationship. so, when you meet your idol, namjoon gets jealous, and the shit hits the fan. ~jeon jeongguk finally appears in this fic~

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, fluff, angst

au: celebrity

chapter warnings: namjoon is a bit jealous! this leads to: biting, marking, pinching, implied unprotected piv sex, oral (f!receiving) which includes biting, there's some hair pulling (but not like... aggressively), they don't communicate well—surprise!, angst

chapter word count: ~5.8k (total 31.7k)

a/n: hello, idk what to say. apparently this one will hurt. i don't write a lot of angst cos of that, so here we are. thanks to my friend, @ugh-yoongi for looking this over, you're the jin to my namjoon!

previous chapter | next chapter | read on ao3

In your new normal, a few months into your situation with Namjoon, you spend long hours on your laptop writing articles from the couch in his studio. Work has been nonstop crazy for him in the weeks since you got back from your weekend away, and after not seeing each other for ten days, this was the solution you came up with.

(You missed him those ten days—missed him enough that it was a little bit embarrassing, that you became a little unbearable. It all sort of came to a head when you snapped at Jimin during a pointless argument about the drama you were both watching. He looked at you like you’d kicked a puppy and Taehyung muttered something about taking matters into his own hands as he walked Jimin down the hall, leaving you to stew in your own embarrassment and annoyance.

About fifteen minutes later, you got a call from Namjoon, and he was using his deepest tone—the one he saves for when he either wants something, is just waking up, or is a little drunk—”Baby, can you come by the studio? I miss you…” he’d said.

“Did Tae call you?” You’re a lot of things, but not oblivious.

“...Maybe.”

You huffed, indignant. “I’m just having a bad day,” you explained.

“Me too. But I think it would get better if I could see you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning for the first time in days. It didn’t take any more convincing than that, and you’d gotten dressed, packed up a small bag of essentials, and headed out to see him. It helped the weird, anxious tension you’d been feeling, so you just kept going there.)

And while it’s not much, being in the same room while you work is nice. And if it’s all you can get of his time, you’ll take it. The perks are that you get to have lunch together, you get to spend some time with Yoongi and Hoseok—both of whom you like very much—and you get to meet some of the people Namjoon produces for, including your favorite singer, Jeon Jeongguk.

“Is he coming today?” you ask Namjoon, excitement not even concealed a little bit as you throw yourself on the couch.

“Hmm?”

“Jeongguk-ssi. Is he coming?”

Namjoon swivels around to face you, one eyebrow raised. “I think he is, yeah. That exciting for you?”

You nod furiously, not even trying to suppress your enthusiasm. “He’s so nice,” you say, and it almost comes out less dreamy than you feel. You’ve met him once before and he is nice, and unbelievably pretty, and you never even thought you’d get a ticket to one of his concerts, let alone watch him sing into a microphone in the small recording area of Namjoon’s studio. It’s surreal. You’re starstruck by him in a way you aren’t usually by the people you meet in your line of work. It’s a little annoying—you don’t like feeling that way, but Jeongguk is… well, he’s special and he knows it, but he’s still seemingly really humble about it. You feel like a fangirl.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Namjoon says curiously. “You talk to famous people all the time.”

“But he’s…” You just sigh, unable to find the word you were looking for.

Namjoon laughs. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I wish you got all starry-eyed like that about me, though.”

It’s absurd, you think, because you feel so much differently about Namjoon. You’re not intimidated by him, you just respect him. And you know him better than you know almost anyone else, which changes things. You may not be starry-eyed for him at every opportunity anymore, but what you are is so much more than that. You love him. He has to know that.

“Maybe you should get some tattoos like Jeongguk,” you tease. “They’d look good on you.” It comes out before you can stop yourself. For a second, you regret it, you think maybe you should have said something sincere about how much you care for him. But he knows. He definitely has to know.

“Hmm… Maybe,” he hums, turning back to his screens. “Maybe I should get your name right on my asscheek.”

“Forget I said anything,” you deadpan. And you hear him laugh one more time before you both slip your headphones on and get to work.

Jeongguk comes by a couple of hours later, as gorgeous and quiet and polite as ever, and you try try try to be cool about it, but you’re barely containing your excitement. Or not containing it, maybe, judging by the way Namjoon has rolled his eyes at you a half dozen times since the singer showed up.

When they’re done working, Jeongguk and Namjoon pull their headphones off and start chatting—Jeongguk takes the chair opposite you and Namjoon sits next to you on the sofa. You cringe when he puts his bare feet on the coffee table—it’s his, but it had to have cost more than several months of your rent. And sometimes you eat off of it. So… you know.

You tune back into the conversation just as Namjoon says, “... an autograph?”

And your head shoots up from where you’d been staring at his feet, your eyes wider than wide.

It makes Jeongguk blush and his teeth burst out of his smile. “Of course, hyung. You don’t have to ask.”

“Yes, he does,” you say enthusiastically. They both turn to you, and you feel a little on the spot, a little nervous. “I mean… It would mean a lot to me, and he knows that. So, it’s…” You trail off, not even sure what you’d planned to say. You’d mentioned in passing to Namjoon that you’d basically kill to get Jeongguk’s autograph, but he seemed to think you were just being ridiculous, that there was no reason to need it when you’d already met the singer. You weren’t sure he would even ask—you definitely didn’t think he would ask in front of you.

But, he did, so you swallow your dignity and pull your copy of Jeongguk’s most recent album out of your bag and hand it to him with a marker. Of course you’re prepared. Of course you watch Jeongguk sign it with a beaming smile on your face. Namjoon lifts an eyebrow and you see him clench his jaw, staring at nothing in particular. It’s not a look you see him give too often, and you haven’t had it directed at you before—it’s hard to tell if it’s for you now, but there’s no one else around. Sure, he’d teased you about this, but there’s no way he’s actually bothered… you hope. It makes you feel nervous in a different way… an almost unpleasant one.

Later, after Jeongguk is gone and your newly signed album is tucked away back safely in your bag after an embarrassingly high number of thank yous, you and Namjoon both work. The air is thick, a little tense, and you’re pretty sure it’s not only in your head. He’s always quiet when he’s working, always focused, but tonight he’s quieter than usual. Everything you say to him is met with one or two word responses and he barely makes eye contact. It’s after midnight by the time his manager peeks in to see if you’ll be leaving soon, and you nod affirmatively while Namjoon just waves him off without even turning around.

You have to come stand next to him to get his attention. “I think I’m done for the day,” you tell him, trying to stifle a yawn as you stretch your arms overhead.

“Fine. See you at home?”

And what a funny question, because he definitely seems irritated, but also expects you to be at his apartment when he gets home? You don’t even live there; it’s not your home no matter how many nights you spend there each week. “You want me to stay over?” you ask, trying to get a better read on the situation.

“Sure, why not? Someplace else you need to be?”

Now, you’re the one raising a brow. He’s being weird. It all seems fine on the surface, maybe to someone who doesn’t know how you usually are with each other. He’s tense and short and his tone is clipped and he’s not looking at you and you sort of hate it.

Fuck it. Might as well just ask. “Is everything okay?”

He finally looks up at you, swiveling his chair around so he can face you, and you know the answer to your question is no before he even says anything. Mentally, you brace yourself a little for what he might say. But then he doesn’t say anything for a while, just looks at you, eyes tracing your face, down your body and back up before he lets out a long breath. He does that thing, the one where he tugs at his own neck, long fingers pushing into the flesh there like he can physically push the stress and tension out of his muscles if he tries hard enough.

Then he’s reaching out to you, hands landing on your hips and pulling you forward between his knees. With one hand, his thumb digs into your hip bone almost too hard, and the other pushes your shirt up so he can press his lips into the skin across your ribs, the soft swell of your stomach, the tops of your hips. “Mine,” he says into your skin—you think that’s what he’s saying anyway, because you barely hear it, could almost be in your imagination, the soft sound muffled by your own body.

You lift your hands and run your fingers through his hair, brushing it back the way he likes with the soft strokes he always says are his favorite, but this time, he pulls you down by your elbows until your foreheads are pressed together. Just like his thumb in your hip before, his grip on your arms is almost too tight, almost crossing the line into painful, but the look on his face is soft like a plea before his lips touch yours.

“Mine,” he says again, and this time it’s unmistakable, urgent and possessive before his tongue slides into your mouth, licking like a claim more than a promise.

While you kiss (if that’s what this even is… it feels more like a branding—hot and a little angry on your lips and tongue) you lower yourself into his lap. You both don’t really fit in his chair, but it just forces you to be pressed in close against him, thighs tight around his.

Something strange is happening, it’s so close to being the way it always is between you, but everything is just slightly off-kilter. He’s pulling your head back by your hair to give him access to your neck, and it’s not kind; not sweet. He starts to bite along your pulse point, your throat, little nibbles harder than usual and he’s surely leaving marks as he goes.

Underneath you, you feel him getting hard in his joggers, you hear his breath starting to come heavier and faster, you see his cheeks flush, but they’re not dimpled with the smirk he usually sports while you’re in this position.

“Joonie,” you whisper, “what’s going on?”

“Doesn’t it feel good?” he asks in return, his fingers traveling under your shirt, under your bra so he can pinch and twist more than softly at one of your nipples. You moan without even meaning to, because of course it feels good, of course he knows exactly how to touch you even when he’s doing all of it a little too hard. “Sounds like it feels good. Sounds like you like it, baby. Want me to mark you up?” He’s starting to ramble now, a little desperate, leaving more marks on your collarbone, your neck, as you grind down into his lap.

“Feels good, Joon. Always feels the best with you.”

It’s the first time all night you think you’ve said the right thing. You can almost feel him relax under you a little, but only a little. He’s still got a different kind of urgency written on his face, he’s still hard under you, and he’s still making marks on all your skin he can reach with his lips, still pinching and twisting at patches of skin under your shirt.

“Gonna fuck you,” he whispers, moving you off his lap and following you up. It’s different because usually he asks. Usually, he lets you make the calls, lets you decide the when and the where and the pace and the pressure. That’s what’s off—this is all him without asking. You know he’d stop if you told him to, and you don’t want him to stop, but you do wonder why things are different this time.

He pulls you across the room near the couch, the one you sat on just hours earlier, getting an autograph from his friend. It clicks for you then, what’s gotten into him, or what you think has, anyway.

Standing there, you watch him unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs, and he’s focused, focused, focused, quiet and intense, his hands steady and a corner of his lip tucked under his teeth as he strips you.

You don’t ask then, you wait until you’re on your knees on the couch, until you’re both naked, until he’s behind you and licking into your core with his fingers kneading at the tops of your thighs, spreading you open.

This too, is different.

Normally he takes his time with you, likes to tease you with his tongue, with his fingers. Likes to press kisses to your clit that don’t do anything except make you smile and wiggle around under him, likes to lick you open and then slide one or two long fingers in you and talk to you about how wet you are, how good you feel, how you taste like ripe fruit or syrup or something ridiculous.

He likes to get you begging, likes you to want him so much he can see it in the way your muscles twitch. Likes it when you set the rules and then hand over the control to him.

Not tonight.

It’s all purposeful strokes with his tongue, it’s him pulling and twisting the flesh of your thighs, it’s silence and no sweet murmurings to make you melt. It’s fast and a little rough and it’s making your head spin when he licks and sucks and even bites a little right on your clit. It’s good, he’s always good, always knows how to make you come… But it’s different.

So, it’s the wrong time (or the right time) and you don’t really know why you finally say it as a response when he says, “Mine,” again before sucking your clit between his lips one last time and drawing out your first orgasm.

“Are you jealous, Joonie?” you ask between labored breaths, “You think I want to fuck your friend?”

Behind you, where he had been still nestled between your legs, he comes to a halt, tongue and fingers and breathing all stilled for a moment. Then a quiet, “Yeah…” The word long on his lips and the air behind it floating like a whisper across your core.

“I’m yours, though,” you say, turning your head to try and catch a glimpse of his face over your shoulder. “All yours.”

That earns you his hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you down so your weight falls on your forearms in front of him, ass up and your face pressed into the sofa so that you can’t keep trying to watch him with your neck turned back.

You’re still cum-slick and sensitive—you know he can tell by the way you let out an involuntary shiver when he drags the tip of his cock along your clit.

“He wouldn’t be enough for you,” Namjoon says quietly, so serious. “You’re mine, baby. Gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

It’s not quite angry anymore, he’s no longer gripping too roughly or biting your skin—feels like he’s finally just about present, like he’s finally with you instead of just next to you. He’s teasing his cock at your entrance now, and you push back against him. “Yes, yours… Only for you. Please, Joon.” It’s a little needier than you meant, a little more desperate than you deserve, having already come once. But he’s a tease, and he’s so so hard, and it’s making you a little crazy that he wants you for himself like this, that you can make him go a little wild in this way. You’ve never seen him possessive like he was today. Maybe it shouldn’t turn you on, but calling you his, trying to claim you, it’s the closest thing he’s said to, “I love you.” He makes you a greedy, desperate thing, and you’ll take what you can get. You’ll take this from him if it means even close to what you want it to mean.

Once more, he wraps some of your hair around his hand and pulls. You groan as your head tilts up and your back arches under the pressure. It’s not hard, it doesn’t hurt, but it still carries that same frantic feeling as he has since this started. “What do you need?”

“You to fuck me… Need your cock, Joonie… Please…”

And he’s always giving you what you say you need. It’s nobody’s fault but your own if you lie.

So, he thrusts into you and uses his grip on your hair to pull you onto him at the same time. It’s so fucking deep, and he feels as heavy and thick as ever inside you as you whimper in time with his thrusts. He’s been hard for what seems like an eternity, so you know it must be as much relief at this point as it is pleasure for him.

“Want to make it last now,” he says, slowing his movements, being more prescribed, more precise with where he hits inside of you. His hand loosens around your hair, and your head falls down—you’re starting to tire now as you’re teetering on the edge of your second orgasm, about at the most you can take, because while he’s slowed, he’s still deep inside you and it’s so so much. Must be for him, too, because he’s still not talking as much as usual, just letting out short moans mixed with your name and broken, skipping record sentences all beginning or ending with “Mine.”

As he fucks you, he slides his hands under your front and pulls you up tight against him. You’re essentially sitting in his lap now, and it’s usually one of your favorite ways to fuck because it gets him so close to you. His hands on your breasts, his face buried in your neck. When you’re like this, when he’s all you can smell, all you can taste, all you can feel—it’s heaven. It’s all of your best fantasies come to life. And this still feels like a fantasy, like a dream, because it’s standing on the boundary of the familiar, because everything has fluffy, blurry edges and seems right and not right with him all at the same time.

He turns your head to face him and cranes his own to meet you halfway. Your kiss is softer than you’ve been behaving—it’s tender and slow and you want to make a home in his mouth where it’s sweet and safe and his syrupy sappy words are supposed to come from. You tease him about being cheesy sometimes, but you like it; you like it better than today when he was upset even though it led to this. But now this finally feels almost right, this finally feels almost like you and Namjoon again.

“Joon, I—”

And you’ve done this a million times, so he cuts you off with another kiss. He knows you’re his now (you hope this is the convincing he needed, anyway) and he knows what you need from him. He brings his fingers to your clit and strokes you there, gentle and steady like your kiss. It’s your way of talking, it’s his way of telling you everything you mean to him and everything he wants to be for you. He probably knows it’s not enough, not forever anyway, and that could be why it feels like a promise and an apology at the same time. You think maybe in spite of all the words that must be floating around his big brain, that this is all he knows how to give, so he gives it everything.

Under his hand and while he’s buried deep inside of you, you come for the second time. It’s quiet—no noise in the fluttering of your walls around him and the way your eyes fall shut—the second time is pain and pleasure combined, and he’s told you before he sometimes wonders if it’s too much when they happen in close succession like this.

It’s only seconds until he comes too, squeezing every muscle in and around you. It’s all-consuming—he always is.

You lift yourself off of his lap when he’s stopped pulsing inside you, and let yourself spread out on the sofa under him, offering him a hand to do the same, half next to you and half on top of you. He’s heavy and warm and solid, and he’s the physical manifestation of the biggest love you’ve ever felt. You still don’t know what happened, why he got so worked up, not really, but before you fall asleep, you hear the quiet, “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers into your hair. You don’t really know if you should have said it first.

It’s close to sunrise when you and Namjoon make your way back to his apartment. You’d slept uncomfortably on the sofa of his studio for a couple hours, cleaned yourselves up in relative silence and then called for a car. Between you, things don’t feel quite right. He looks sheepish, you feel embarrassed. It’s not quite bad enough to be uncomfortable, but it’s close. When you tumble through his front door and kick your shoes off, he pulls you into a tight hug. You sigh in tandem and you hope it lets the weird feelings out. It’s the kind of thing you should talk about, but you don’t know how to start the conversation. So, you don’t. Namjoon doesn’t either.

It’s probably a mistake.

It feels like a mistake when you wake up early in the afternoon and he’s not in bed with you. It feels like a mistake when you get ready for work alone, and the sound of Namjoon murmuring on the phone in his office across the apartment is the only company you have. It feels like a mistake when you ask if he wants to ride together to the museum party you’re both attending, and he says you probably shouldn’t, that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Feels like a mistake when you both deposit the rings you’d bought for your 200 days into the small dish by his door (never in public, you know you never wear them in public… and still—a big gesture reduced to something secret feels like a mistake sometimes. Feels like you’re betraying yourselves somehow).

It feels the most like a mistake when Tae texts you to tell you he’s waiting in the car outside and Namjoon kisses your cheek in goodbye instead of your lips.

Taehyung, to his credit, leaves you alone on the drive after he realizes something is wrong. He doesn’t bother you about what’s bothering you, instead catching you up on things you’d missed around your own apartment in the last couple weeks. Jimin’s been busy, picking up a couple of more advanced classes, but Tae says he likes the challenge, likes the students. It’s good—Jimin works hard, deserves good things. The stories are enough to distract you from your own potential problems until you get to the event.

It’s never fun to go into things like this in a bad mood. Makes it hard to focus on your job, makes it hard to enjoy things you normally would. This should be easy, but it’s a big party. The yearly member/donor party for the museum is complete with celebrity appearances (including Namjoon) on a red carpet, a silent auction on rare prints and originals, and an expensive plated dinner you’re usually excited about eating with your boss and Taehyung by your side. This year though, it’s different. None of the prints for auction seem as special, the food doesn’t taste as good, it’s not even much fun to make fun of the stupid shit famous people wear because some designer said they should.

You’re sulking and you know it.

The weird thing with Namjoon turned into a sour mood for you, and it’s been made worse watching him flash his dimpled grin to models and singers and artists across the room. You hadn’t been on the receiving end of it all day (or the night before), and it’s throwing you off. Seems like a gift he can give so easily, like something you’re missing out on.

An ugly pit that feels like resentment starts to settle in your gut where your food should be. Instead of eating or talking or having a good time, you sulk more; you push the food around on your plate, and you try not to watch him in an obvious way.

Taehyung solidifies his status as one of your best friends when he smoothly talks around the idea of you grabbing Namjoon for an interview even though your boss suggested it. Tae is the best because you haven’t even talked about it, but he knows something isn’t right. He knows on instinct that you shouldn’t be trusted with that job tonight. The last thing you need is to have to interview Namjoon when things are already weird with you. You’d probably pull it off just fine under usual circumstances, probably be able to control your face when you think about all the times you’ve seen each other naked, all the times you’ve pressed laughing kisses to his lips and his dimples, all the times you’ve tripped and stumbled and fallen further further further for him.

But not like this. Not with the questions you didn’t ask (and can’t right now) hanging between you, not with your brain fixated on the way he pulled your hair and bruised your neck enough that you’re wearing your least favorite turtleneck dress.

All you want him to tell you is why, all you want to tell him is that you love him so much that why doesn’t actually matter. None of it matters and you wish he knew and you wish you’d said that. But you can’t say that in an interview, can’t tell him that all you need is for him to love you and to say it so you can safely say it back. You need him to be brave, to make you feel brave in turn. You can’t print that, though.

The problem with you not pulling him for a few questions is that someone has to. You can’t be an art magazine and not talk to him here. So, if it’s not you, it will be someone. Someone who won’t be as gentle with their questions, someone who won’t know what to ask about his collection, what he’s passionate about right now. You know you could do the job best, if only you could ask the professional questions, if only you could get him to look you in the eye.

You’re about to change your mind, about to tell Tae you can do it when you see your boss and your asshole, book-writing colleague approach Namjoon. There’s no way it’s going to go well—you know Namjoon doesn’t like him. It had basically been the first thing you’d ever talked to him about.

That knowledge in mind, you can’t stop yourself from getting a little closer to where they are. It doesn’t make sense, it’s not like you can or would intervene if your co-worker asks something weird. Not like Namjoon needs you to protect him. But you know your colleague. You know why Namjoon doesn’t like him. You know he treats celebrities like commodities, their private lives to be bought and sold. You know he’ll directly ask Namjoon about his personal life, and if Namjoon doesn’t answer, he’ll look for the answer elsewhere. It’s why he’s successful—there’s a never-ending parade of people willing to trade in peoples’ secrets.

Someone’s always willing to be bought. People are always willing to consume rumors paraded as facts.

You linger close enough to hear, but not close enough that your boss realizes you followed. Tae tugs at your arm, hisses, “What’re you doing?” in your ear so only you can hear. But he knows. So, before he even waits for a response, he adds, under his breath, “Just don’t let her see you.” He’s right, you don’t know how you’d explain to your boss that you were eavesdropping instead of doing your actual job.

The first couple questions are the right kind: “Anything you want to bid on tonight?” And, “You’ve seen the upcoming exhibitions for the year, which are you most excited about? Why?” And then you hear the next question, “Who’s your plus one tonight?”

Namjoon, even though you can’t quite hear him, seems to brush it off. Says something about just spending the evening among friends. It’s the right answer, the one he’s given a million times, the one that’s actually true as far as you know. Your colleague seems unimpressed, seems like he wants more. He presses into the subject as you press closer to them. “Come on, there are rumors you’ve been spotted out with someone recently.”

That’s true, too. Namjoon’s management has a policy of ignoring them, but they’re out there. LIttle snippets on social media, people saying they’d seen him leaving restaurants with someone, seen him in the back of a car, but not alone. They’re probably true. You’ve been careful—no one’s mentioned you, no one has pictures, but you’ve also been out a lot. He’s told you he’s getting older, he’s not an idol, he doesn’t care if people know he’s dating. He’s an adult, he’ll do what he wants. You mean too much to him to stay tucked away in his apartment or his studio… He’s said all those things and you’ve gone on living your lives, and someone’s probably seen you doing it.

Sometimes, to your colleague’s fortune, rumors are facts.

“I don’t pay much attention to rumors,” Namjoon says in response. That’s true, too. He’s good at this, the deflection that’s also honest. He’s not often accused of being untruthful and there’s a reason for that.

“Well, just for the record, we’d love to know who you’re dating. If there’s anyone special…” Your boss adds that one on. It’s far more direct than your colleague would normally be. She doesn’t like feeling manipulative, she’d rather just ask the straightforward question and hope to get a straightforward answer. She won’t get it, you think.

Then Namjoon spots you watching, eyes you over the rim of his glasses as you take a drink from your champagne flute. At every other event, this is when he smiles at you, small and private, the kind of smile that makes him look his age with the deep lines of a practiced movement forming around his mouth. You smile first—it’s almost Pavlovian. You’re anticipating his move.

But you’re wrong this time. He doesn’t smile back. He swallows and smooths his tie and looks back to your boss and gives her the straightforward answer she wanted; the one you absolutely weren’t expecting.

“No, not dating anyone seriously. There’s no one special.”

It feels like a mistake. All of it.

You don’t move, not a muscle. Your champagne flute hangs in mid air, your eyes are stuck on him. Behind you, Taehyung is saying something whispered and frantic, but you don’t even really hear him, just pieces of it. “...what he has to say… Not a big deal… reading too much into it.”

The sentences finish themselves, and part of you knows he’s right. Namjoon probably does have to say something like that, it probably isn’t a big deal, you probably are reading too much into it. And you’d believe him, believe yourself, if things hadn’t already felt wrong, if he’d just smiled back at you. All he had to do was smile back.

“I think I should go,” you say, voice low and talking to no one in particular.

“Okay, yeah. Let’s get you home,” Taehyung says, and he grabs your elbow, right where Namjoon had the night before but in a softer, kinder way. As he starts to walk, he guides you, and you indulge yourself, let yourself keep your eyes locked on Namjoon, the person you love, the person who might not love you. The person who was jealous when you wanted an autograph from his friend, but who won’t hold your hand on the sidewalk. The person who raps and writes and says words words words but never really talks to you. Never tells you the one thing you need to hear. The person who says so much and so little at the same time. You watch him and it’s like you’re willing him to look back, to see you.

But he doesn’t. He fidgets and messes with his cufflinks and you know he knows you heard him, you know he saw you there, and he can’t even bring himself to give you a non-verbal denial or confirmation of what he said.

It feels like a mistake.

It feels like heartbreak.

Feels like shattering into a million petal pieces and no amount of gilded glue will be able to piece you back together into something as pretty as you were before.

Namjoon texts you that night—a string of messages that you don’t read come after you’ve cried into Jimin’s chest on your couch, after Tae has wrapped himself around you in your bed and let you tell him every secret thing you love about Kim Namjoon as you sob and mourn something you’re not sure was ever really yours.

Namjoon calls and you don’t answer. Calls you again while Tae sweetly suggests you could just give him a chance. That it didn’t mean anything. That you know Yoongi says it all that time, too, and you’ve met his partner. That maybe you don’t have to take it so personally.

You fall asleep with Tae’s arm around you, pulling you close, and your tears drying on your cheeks.

You wake up to a new message from Namjoon. “Please don’t push me away, baby,” it says.

A long time passes while you stare at the message. A million thoughts run through your head of what you should or shouldn’t do, of how upset you have the right (or not) to be. But the one thought you can’t kick is wondering how hard you can really be pushing someone away if they were already pulling back.

#namjoon fic #bts fanfic #rm fanfic #kvanity #btshoneyhive #btswritersclub #namjoon smut #bts smut #rm smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon angst #bts angst #rm imagine #rm angst

274 notes · View notes

maxattax · 5 months

Text

Look Away - Chapter 1

I wrote a fic for EctoImplosion (@ecto-implosion)! @darnwafflessideblog made an animatic and I wrote this fic based on that. You can find his animatic here! I'll be posting one chapter a day for 6 days. :)

---

Wes Weston peered at Danny Fenton’s locker through the lens of his Viewfinder Deluxe, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take a picture. The hallway was silent, save for the low buzz of the fluorescent lights. Class had ended ten minutes ago, and Danny was nowhere to be seen. Wes leaned on the wall and let out an impatient groan.

Danny always came to his locker after school, so there was no way he’d skip it the one day Wes was waiting for him, right? No, definitely not. He just had to be patient and then he’d be rewarded for his efforts. Today he might just be writing an article for the school newspaper, but one day he’d be a real investigative journalist, so he would have to get used to doing stakeouts like this.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Wes saw three figures heading in his direction. He strained to hear their faint voices.

“I’m just saying, the remaster of Doomed needs to change something significant, or it’s not gonna be worth playing. If they’re just upscaling the graphics, I’m not gonna bother buying it. Why split the userbase?”

They got close enough for Wes to recognize them. Danny clapped Tucker on the back. “Oh come on, Tuck, it’ll be fun. You know I’m saving my allowance to get it, whether it has new features or not. What about you, Sam?”

“It’s pretty important to know how it’s going to play. If nothing changes besides the graphics, it’s basically the same game. But… I preordered it anyway.” Sam shrugged. “New game means new players, which means more people to crush.” She laughed and stopped walking to lean back against one of the lockers.

Danny and Tucker stopped as well. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe I’ll get it,” he said, drawing out the maybe, “but we’ll see what pre-release reviewers think.”

Danny turned to face his locker. His head swiveled side to side, presumably looking to see if anyone was around. Wes was some distance away, but he ducked behind the corner anyway, just to be safe. He peeked back out and saw Danny reaching towards the locker with a book in his hand. Just as his wrist started to sink through the metal door, Wes pressed down on the shutter button. Click!

Danny’s head jerked in Wes’s direction. Wes spun back behind the corner.

“Did you guys hear something?” Danny asked.

“Nope,” his two friends said together.

“Hm. Okay.” Danny pulled his arm out of his locker, hand now empty. “Let’s get out of here and get something to eat.”

Wes waited for the sound of their chatter to fade before peering back around the corner. Nobody was in sight. Good. He relaxed against the wall and clicked through the viewfinder slides to find the newest picture. It was a perfectly framed photo of Danny with his arm phased through his locker. Fantastic.

He walked over to Danny’s locker and rapped his knuckles on the door. It was clearly solid metal. He knew he wasn’t crazy! Danny Fenton really did have ghost powers! But this wouldn’t be enough for the ignorant masses of Amity Park. He’d need more evidence.

—

A couple days later, Wes was no closer to finding concrete proof that Fenton was Phantom. He sat at the lunch table, food forgotten, tapping his pen against his open notebook. He had drawn a table with three columns, labeled “Fenton”, “Phantom”, and “Both”. In Fenton’s column he had written traits such as, “appears scared of ghosts”, “physically weak”, “soft spoken”, and “poor school performance.” Under Phantom, there was “physically strong”, “good at fighting”, “confident”, and “protective of humans”. And in the Both column he had “same appearance”, “access to Fenton tech”, “often seen at Casper High”, and “loves puns”.

He had to admit that his list of similarities was a bit lacking. It must have been some kind of act Fenton was putting on, pretending to be weak so nobody would know he had superpowers. He’d just need to get more photos. Maybe he could get a picture of him changing into his alter-ego, although he wasn’t entirely sure how that worked. Just another mystery to add to the pile.

Wes stole a glance at Danny’s table, hoping to see something suspicious. Danny turned his head and Wes quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed him staring. When he looked back, Danny was no longer there.

“Boo,” said a voice from behind Wes.

“Aah!” Wes nearly fell out of his seat. He slammed his notebook closed and turned around. “Oh. Hi. Danny, right?”

Danny laughed mirthlessly. “You know damn well who I am. Look, I’m gonna need you to stop following me around. It’s kinda creepy.”

Wes’s face blanched. “Uh, I’m not... I’m just taking pictures for the school newspaper.”

Danny put his hands on his hips. “Uh huh. Then why are you sneaking around?”

“Um. They want candid pictures?” Wes didn’t intend for it to come out as a question. Whoops.

Danny sighed. “Fine, whatever. Just stop taking pictures of me, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I won’t take any more,” Wes lied. Shit, he was gonna have to be more careful. How do you hide from a guy with superpowers?

“Good.” Danny walked back to his table and started speaking animatedly to his friends. Wes wished he could be a fly on the wall to hear that conversation, but he knew better than to say that aloud. Everyone at school remembered when that genie ghost twisted people’s wishes, and he didn’t want to end up turning into a fly or something.

He was getting off track. Danny knew something was up. Wes had thought he was being subtle, but apparently not. He’d have to find sneakier ways to get pictures. A hidden camera would be easier, but for some reason, every camera Wes owned turned out blurry when taking pictures of ghosts. So he’d have to stick with the viewfinder. He wasn’t sure why it worked; maybe it was something about physical film strips? Regardless, subtle or not, this would have to do.

Wes would get his proof. Then he’d get the respect he deserved.

#danny phantom #ectoimplosion2023 #my writing #look away

30 notes · View notes

theroyalsims · 10 months

Text

PRINCE ALISTAIR'S NEW LADY LOVE MAKES HEADLINES (AND SOME BACKLASH) FOR STYLISH LOOKS

There's a new It Girl in town, and it's Prince Alistair's newest rumoured girlfriend, Marguerite “Margeaux” Riccaforte.

Ever since the pair was spotted leaving the opera a few weeks ago, the blonde beauty has been making waves across fashion websites and publications for her stylish looks.

The socialite, who currently works for her father's business, Riccaforte Holdings, has been snapped multiple times by paparazzi leaving her posh flat looking picture-perfect every single time. Margeaux reportedly lives in a penthouse unit in a high-rise owned by her father's company.

Margeaux is no stranger to being fashion's favourite. She has been a staple at must-see shows during Brindleton Fashion Week and has been named as one of the "best-dressed" by several magazines.

Fans of Margeaux's looks however, should save up if they want to steal her looks since she's usually decked out in luxury brands. One stylist shares:

"All eyes are currently on Margeaux and rightfully so. She takes fashion seriously, and as an heiress to a multi-billion Simoleon fortune, you can expect that the price tag on her clothes and accessories will be preposterous. One of her bags alone is worth a mid-range brand new car. Let that sink in."

That being said, comparisons between Margeaux and Ximena Kalarmy, Prince Alistair's ex, have been made online by several fashion and royal watchers. Side-by-side photos of the two have gone viral online and people are split.

(Above: Ximena Kalarmy, Prince Alistair's ex, was dragged into the mix for her alleged "frumpy" looks.)

One person writes:

"Never really realised how frumpy Ximena looked until now. Girl was NOT ready to be a royal girlfriend. This Margeaux, however, she read up and knows the assignment... #CantBlameHim"

Another commented:

"Not Ximena looking like she dressed in the dark! 😂 Remember when she 'tried' to look good by wearing counterfeit designer clothes? LOL!"

The comment was in reference to multiple articles which exposed Ximena for wearing a fake designer dress, which was "inspired" by a dress The Crown Princess wore for an official engagement. Back then, Prince Alistair's now-ex girlfriend was met with mockery and criticism for wearing the counterfeit dress.

However, not everyone's impressed with Margeaux's looks, with some calling her "superficial" and "tone-deaf."

"Don't you dare come after my girl Ximena. That woman works her butt off for everything. I'd take her any day over a spoiled, superficial billionaire who's basically a glorified Barbie doll. Alistair, you disappoint me."

Another user wrote:

"The snobbish royals must be so happy that Alistair is dating another rich, cookie-cutter blonde, who's so tone-deaf, she wears diamonds and a §40,000 bag out to lunch as most of us freeze at night because we cant afford heating in our flats. P.S. I find it extra creepy that Alistair is dating a blonde, like her mum and her sisters."

While it may be entertaining to see all these comments, pitting these two women against each other cannot be justified. We're sure both ladies are wonderful, independent women with their own sense of style. Just because Margeaux is Alistair's new girlfriend doesn't give anyone the right to bash her or to drag Ximena's name once again (girl's been through enough!) Why can't people just let these ladies be?

#ts4 #theroyalsims #ts4 simblr #simblr #ts4 royals #ts4 royalty #ts4 royal family #ts4 royal story #ts4 story #ts4 legacy #mystory #margeaux #ximena #alistair

44 notes · View notes

davidfarland · 21 days

Text

David Farland’s Writing Tip: Seeing Yourself as a Writer

A lot of people have a hard time imagining themselves as full-time writers—and that is often the only thing that holds them back.

You might be a lawyer, a dentist, a coal minter, or a waitress, and you define yourself as that. Yeah, you love writing, but you don’t think you’re free to write. You may be wearing golden handcuffs, stuck in a high-paying job that you really don’t enjoy.

Or maybe you’re working rather desperately at a dead-end job that won’t really take you where you want to go.

I’ve met several fine writers who have medical conditions—back problems, anxiety, or depression that seem to define them.

I think that authors need to begin defining themselves. They need to begin “seeing themselves as writers,” much as a basketball player can prepare for a game by imagining himself make shots.

So the real question is, “What is the life of a writer like?” Is it worth working for?

Twenty years ago, I got a call from the Deseret News, the largest newspaper in our area. They had heard that I was a writer, that I had a hit novel out, and they asked if that was true. I said “Yes.” Then they asked, if I could have any job, any dream job, what would it be? I was dumbfounded. I said, “I already have it. I’m a writer.”

It turned out that the article was for “Career Day.” The interviewer asked a person what their dream job would be, then called someone with that job and asked what their dream job was. They’d interviewed a senator, an astronaut, an actor, and so on. I was the last one interviewed. Writing was my dream job.

Why?

Writing is fun in itself. I find that any job where I create things—from pizza to painting is fun, but I get a unique sense of fulfillment when I finish the final draft of a big novel.

I get to work when I want. If I wake up at two in the morning and have an idea for a scene, I can go to work at 2:00. I don’t have to wait for office hours. If I want to go have lunch at my favorite restaurant, I can work it into my schedule. If I’m sick with a cold, I can sit down in my recliner with a blanket wrapped over me and write anyway. And since I love to write, it feels more like a reward than real work.

I can write where I want. I used to take writing retreats down in Cabo, where I would get up at dawn and go out and wrote while the sun rose over the ocean. Some people like to write in coffee shops, others in bookstores. I like to compose in airports and in restaurants. Where would you like to be? In a cabin in the Rocky Mountains? In a swanky hotel in Berlin, in the tropical highlands in Fiji? Or a castle in Scotland? I’ve written in all of those places and loved it.

I’m my own boss. I don’t have to worry about office politics. If one of my employees wants my job, I encourage them to give it a try. As my own boss, I get to choose what project I’ll work on next.

Your work can be as meaningful and challenging as you want to make it. Would you like your next novel to change the world for the better? Please, make it so.

There’s no dress code. I’ve worked white-collar jobs where you have to shave everyday and wear a tie. I don’t mind that, but right now I’m wearing some casual sweatpants and a t-shirt. No one is going to see my today, and nobody cares.

I get to keep all of the money I make. When I was young, I stopped at an acquaintance’s house. He was a tax lawyer, and he came home from work and told his wife, “I just figured out how to save the company $14 million today.” His wife said in a deadpan tone, “Great, how much of that do you get to keep?”

As a writer, your books can sell in dozens of countries—the US, the UK, Australia, and into translations in places like Germany, France, Italy, Russia, Japan and China. Your books can go into movies, television, videogames and other mediums.

It often surprises nonwriters how much money a writer can earn from various sources. You can have mediocre sales in the US but make a fortune in Poland, and your neighbors will become convinced that you must be a drug dealer.

Years ago, when I recommended Harry Potter to be the book to push big at Scholastic and outlined the advertising campaign for it, I really didn’t imagine that it would make Rowling a billionaire. Several other writers that I’ve trained have made millions, too. One has made hundreds of millions. Making money is not that hard if you understand the business.

It really shouldn’t be too hard to imagine yourself in a job you love, making good money. You just need to begin inching toward what you want to do. Take little steps: write each day, research your next novel, study new techniques. Work hard, and in no time at all, you can find yourself doing what you love.

I heard a story yesterday about a freelance comic artist. He said that when he left his full-time job working at McDoland’s, his boss put a fatherly arm around his shoulder, glared into his eyes, and wished him luck. He said, “Remember, if things get rough out there, you’ll always have a home here with us.”

For more on David Farland's Writing tips, visit https://mystorydoctor.com/writing-blog/

And you can also click here to get your David Farland Daily Meditations.

#writing advice #writing tips #writing help #writing tips and tricks

3 notes · View notes

t-nd-rfoot · 1 year

Note

anna! so happy for you finishing up work, hope you can get some nice relaxing in!

i’d love to see what you can do with 🐈‍⬛ and bobby OR 👩🏻‍💻 and phoenix!!<3

Ahhh thank you so much, Ashley! And yes I’ve really had so much time to relax, writing and watching so many movies 💗

Storyteller // Writing with Natasha Headcanons

A picture is worth a thousand words, and Natasha never runs out of any

Pairing Natasha Trace x reader

Theme fluff

Word Count 493

Note Just realizing this is my first time writing for a female character! Also, forgive me if this sounds like it’s all over the place! I was writing these as I was getting ready for my Christmas eve dinner so I didn’t get to spend as much time writing and editing it 😭 but I hope you still enjoy it though!

Aside from the required communication on missions and training, Natasha is one of the pilots that prefers to let her flying do the talking for her

But when she’s on the ground, boy, does she have a way with words

Natasha loves to write

It’s not something she really broadcasts to anyone, but she’s not ashamed of it either

She’s just the type of person who reserves her words for those she wants to share it with

As a child, she always loved reading

From the stories her mom would read to her before bedtime like Stellaluna and Dr. Seuss book

To the chapter books she’d borrow from the library like the Harry Potter and Goosebumps series

So when she got a good comment from her teacher on a story-writing assignment in school, she kept at it as a hobby

She could write anything under the sun, from poetry and short stories to academic papers and articles (she was on her school paper during her junior and senior years)

But she never saw it as a career since she liked the freedom of writing whatever, whenever, and wherever she liked

Once she entered the navy, she kept up her hobby through her private diary entries and the emails she would send to you

Of course, she emailed her family too, mostly telling them she was safe, and some stories she felt were appropriate to share with them

Like the nice cafes she and Bob ate at during their lunch break and how she promises to take them there when they visit

Or the high praise she received from her superiors about her performance from their latest mission

But the emails she sends you are much more colorful

She knows how much you love her storytelling, how she spares no detail and makes it feel like you were right there with her as it happened

Paragraphs on paragraphs of Hangman and Rooster’s latest argument

And Coyote’s Gordon Ramsay-level critique on his latest pastry find

And her girl’s night with Halo, Penny, and Amelia at the Benjamin household

She’ll save some of the more serious stories for when you guys get to call because she doesn’t like you rereading and dwelling on the negative stories (which are also the ones harder for her to write)

In exchange, you email her back everything that’s been happening at home, and these easily become the highlights of her day

When she gets back home, you spot her (sort of) casually greet her fellow aviators goodbye but on the drive back home with you, she’s bursting with energy, never running out of things to share

And before going to bed, you both swap journals—filled from cover to cover with reflections, poems, and real and imagined stories from your time apart—with the pages you want each other to read already doggy-eared

(It was something you learned how to do for her during your first time apart)

When you’re both done reading it, you tuck away the journals on your shared bookshelf that’s reserved for all the notebooks both of you collected and filled in through the years

It warms her heart knowing the two of you share enough stories for a lifetime, and that your life together is definitely one for the books

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fic #natasha phoenix trace #phoenix trace #phoenix top gun #phoenix fanfiction #phoenix x reader #phoenix imagine #phoenix fic #natasha trace fanfiction #natasha trace imagine #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace fic

39 notes · View notes

whiskeyswriting · 1 year

Text

Always The Second Choice Chapter 2: Last Resort

{ Masterlist } | { Previous Part }

As soon as the doctors gave her the all clear the next morning, Lily went home to her apartment. She knew Perry would yell at her, so she just logged on to work without letting anyone know. She takes her time reviewing the layout of the newspaper articles.

Lily is starting to nod off with her laptop on the verge of falling when a knock at her door startles her. “Coming,” she calls out to whoever is at the door.

“Delivery.”

“Be right there,” she stands slowly, careful not to open the wound on her side. When she opens the door, the man before her is just as surprised to see her as she is to see him.

“Mr. Luthor? What are you doing here?” Lily asks and carefully tightens the robe around her.

The man before brings his arms from behind and gives her a folder. “Your hospital bill is paid for. Why didn’t you tell me you were being discharged?”

“Because I don’t usually talk to strangers about what’s going on in my personal life… And I’ll pay you back for the hospital bill. I never asked for you to pay it.”

His only response is to smirk and stare at her until she relents and accepts. Lily catches on to his game and crosses her arm and raises her brow at him. “Two can play this game.”

He leans forward and kisses her cheek. “Well I’m glad you’re home and that your injuries were not severe… If you ever need anything, my number is in the folder. It’s also saved in your phone,” he says before he turns and walks away.

She stares in disbelief at his retreating figure. She has no response for him. Huffing in annoyance, Lily steps back inside her apartment and checks her phone.

Sure enough, Lex Luthor was saved on her contacts list. She opens the contact and shoots him a text.

Lily: Alexander Joseph Luthor! Sir please don’t feel the need to pay any additional medical bills for me. I can pay them off on my own. Even if it takes me a while.

Lex: First off, call me Lex. Not Alex or Alexander. But Lex.

Lex: Secondly, I made a donation to the hospital and that’s how the donation was used. I don’t pay stranger’s bills.

Lily: I mean this with all respect but I don’t know you. I…

Lily: I know how it is with rich people. They pay off your debt and then treat you like they own you.

Instead of a text reply, Lily’s phone starts ringing. “Is that truly how you think of me?”

“I’ve seen the news articles. I’ve seen parts of the police reports. You, Lex, have given people plenty of reasons to not trust you.”

Lex remains quiet for a moment. “Ah. I know. You’re more into the silent hero type. Into the Clark’s of the world… Well doll, let me be honest with you: he’s not worth your time. He won’t know how to treat a woman like you. In due time, you’ll tell me I was right.”

Lily hangs up on Luthor. Grumbling and mumbling under her breath, she finishes work and goes to bed.

When she wakes up, Lily knew she had to try her last resort and decided to outright ask Clark out on a date. While nobody could see it, she wore her sexiest lingerie for a boost of confidence.

Just after lunch, she walked up to Clark and asked him out for the next night.

“Oh… Uh,” Clark looks at her a bit bewildered but then nods. “I… Yeah. I’ll go on a date with you.” From behind Lily, Jimmy gives Clark two thumbs up.

Lily smiles widely. “Okay! Cool. We can meet up at the cafe downstairs and then head to a restaurant or movie or the museum…”

“It’s a date,” Clark says.

Once Lily leaves, Jimmy goes to ask Clark about what the plan is. Jimmy knew Clark just needed to get out there again to start moving on from Lois. Who else would be better for Clark than Lily? They had the same likes and interests. Both were highly intelligent.

“I just… I don’t think I’m ready for anything.”

“She didn’t propose marriage, Clark. It’s just a date. Maybe she just wants to spend some one on one time with you and see if there’s anything there… Or maybe she just wants to feel needed and wanted.”

“I gave her my word. I’ll go.”

Jimmy just nods but thinking better of it he knows the plan he had would work. He returns to his desk and finishes nominating Lily for the charity date auction.

******

As she changes, Lily feels the excitement and nerves hitting her at full force at the same time. She slips on her coat and heads to the agreed upon coffeeshop. She orders her latte with lavender syrup.

Waiting for Clark, she takes out her tablet and opens the latest ebook she was reading. Lily drowns out the noise and loses herself in the book. The story of unrequited love and duels and dragons was too good to stop reading.

When she comes back to reality, she realizes that it had already been two hours and Clark never showed up. She checked her phone and there was no missed call or unread text messages explaining his delay.

She can feel the heat of people staring as she walks out alone, after being stood up. Instead of heading home, she heads to the hotel down the street and heads to the bar.

Once inside, the televisions were all playing the news of Superman saving a plane from crashing. The news reporter, who is live, asks for a statement from one of the plane passengers. That’s when the camera pans over to Lois. Lois throws her arms around Superman and he flies off with her.

Immediately, Lily asks for a shot of tequila and she downs it as soon as it’s placed in front of her. She orders another and then another.

Lily feels her shoulders drool and her body relax as the liquor takes over. She asks the bartender for two glasses of water. “Actually can I also get two Long Island iced teas?”

The bartender places the requested drinks in front of her, along with a few bottles of water. Lily sits at the bar nursing the drinks.

She starts humming to herself “I want her long blond hair… want her magic touch… Yeah, 'cause maybe then… You'd want me just as much.”

“A bottle of your finest whiskey please and two glasses,” a voice says next to Lily.

“You have a habit of following me… Are you a stalker?” Lily slurs teasingly at Lex.

He chuckles and takes in her outfit, letting his eyes linger on the exposed skin of her leg. “I don’t have to stalk you in my apartment building. You’re the one that came here to the bar.”

“Hmmm. I had a date… But I’m not… I’m not as beautiful as HER… I’m giving up on Clark. I’ll never measure up to perfect Lois,” Lily says under the influence of the tequila.

Lex has the bartender take away the secon, untouched drink. “Close out her tab and add her total to mine.” He then has Lily drink two of the bottles of water. “Come on. We’re getting you up to a room to rest. You’ll be hungover soon if you stay down here drinking.”

Lex helps her down from the barstool and wraps an arm around her waist as he helps her up to his apartment.

“You smell expensive,” Lily mumbles as she has her head against his chest. “Comfy,” she says as she nuzzles into him.

He clears his throat as they’re not alone in the elevator. “Babe. I know it’s our honeymoon but don’t get too comfortable on my chest.”

Lily looks up at him and smiles and then gasps. “We’re married?”

Lex nods. “Mhmm. You just drank too much in celebration,” he says for the benefit of the other passengers in the elevator. He also knew his conversation would make front pages of The Daily Planet.

Once they make it to his floor, he picks her up bridal style to carry her to his apartment. Lily nuzzles in closer to him for warmth. Lex unlocks the door and walks her to the master bedroom and gently lays her on his bed.

Lily struggles for a bit but she manages to fall asleep. The scent and warmth of the comforter keep her asleep. When she woke up the next morning, she found a sleek three-piece suit with a note for her.

Lily went to the bathroom and decided to shower to freshen up. She changes into the suit and heads to work. Before leaving she left a note to Lex thanking him for his time and care.

Upon arriving at the office, Lily finds a breakfast sandwich and a coffee on her desk. Sitting on her chair was Clark, holding a second bag with a pastry. “I’m sorry about last night… I… I have no excuse.”

She wants to yell that she deserves an explanation. That a call would have been nice. Hell. Even an outright rejection would have hurt less. Instead, she just says in a whisper “I know she’s back. I saw you two last night. I’m glad her plane landed safely.”

With those words, Lily tells Clark she knows that he’s Superman.

- -

🏷️ List: @askmarinaandothers @dragon-kazansky @bayisdying

#mrsjaderogerswrites #Clark Kent x OC #Clark Kent #Lex Luthor x OC #Lex Luthor #DC Fanfic #DC Fanfiction #DCEU Fanfic #DCEU Fanfiction #clark kent fanfiction #Lex Luthor fanfiction #OC: Lilian Lily Lockhart #Jimmy Olsen #Lois Lane #Always The Second Choice series #Always The Second Choice fic

25 notes · View notes

magicalbrandingadventure · 7 days

Text

A modern-day branding Nostradamus

Given the case was written in 2002, I endeavored to make my predictions based solely through the lens of one in 2002 (that way I wouldn't benefit from hindsight).* However, the promise (or lack thereof) of each of these products is so readily apparent that I found this to be a simple ranking.

My ranking of the products in terms of future promise are as follows:

DigiScents iSmell

Sliced peanut butter

Silver-coated bandages

Satellite radio

DigiScents iSmell

This is the clear and obvious winner of the four products. My initial inclination was that all PC owners would have their own iSmell by the end of 2004, let alone 2024. However, I've since realized that iSmell will likely be limited by their production capacity. Given that, I think it's likely that it will take several years of ramp up before iSmell becomes ubiquitous. That said, it has everything going for it: PC purchases are undergoing a meteoric rise, people are looking for new sensory experiences without leaving their home, and the technology underlying the product appears to be very advanced. The marketing for the product is a slam-dunk; it even looks cool:

Sliced peanut butter

This the second (and final) can't-miss product on the list. Americans are living their lives on-the-go more than ever. This can be seen with the rise of the "mobile" phone (although I predict this is a trend that will die out in the coming years), the popularity of roller blades, and the increasing frequency of eating lunch at one's desk. While the interview with the sliced peanut butter creator really does say it all (who among us hasn't experienced the frustration of getting peanut butter all over oneself while simultaneously tearing the bread and losing the knife during a late-night PB&J creation?), it is worth reiterating just how revolutionary this product will be to the market. No longer will the average American need to carry around their jar of peanut butter in their back pocket along with their jar of emergency peanut butter in their fanny pack—adding bulk and anxiety regarding the dreaded "peanut butter blowout." Instead, they will be able to carry 10–15 PB slices, saving both space and time. This is particularly relevant in the post-9/11 world we live in, where it has become a piles of peanut butter jars overflowing out of trash bins near TSA security having been flagged as containing too much fluid have become a common sight.

Silver-coated bandages

We live in a society where everything has its place: silver is for jewelry and bandages are for the weak. While I am technically speaking not a "medical doctor," I did grow up in the same town as one. Thus, I know that most cuts and scrapes are best served not by some highfalutin silver antibacterial elixir, but by rubbing some dirt on them. I believe I represent most Americans when I say that this product will never take any hold on the market, unless they are able to rebrand: instead of being silver-coated bandages, they should become bandage-shaped jewelry. Provided the price point is correct ($400+), this could easily become a statement piece worn by those in the medical community.

(image created by generative AI, another fad)

Satellite radio

While well-meaning, this endeavor is entirely misguided as it's premise is ridiculous. People do not want fewer ads or monthly payments. Research has shown that advertisements actually increase the enjoyment viewers feel when watching television (https://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE5131EU). Further, it is beyond absurd to think that consumers will pay a monthly fee to listen to music that they will not even own. The chart below demonstrates the dramatic rise in CD sales every year, clearly showing that Americans are not willing to pay merely to listen to music: they want to listen to free music with ads (traditional radio) and pay to own music in their homes (CD albums).

* Despite how funny it would have been, I opted not to write this article from the perspective of my eight-year-old self in 2002.

#mitsloanbranding2024b

1 note · View note

thedisneychef · 11 months

Text

What To Do With Leftover Mashed Potatoes Recipe

Leftover mashed potatoes are a common problem in many households. But don't worry - there's no need to let them go to waste! With just a few extra ingredients, you can create delicious and nutritious meals out of those leftover spuds. This article will provide some amazing recipes that make the most of your remaining mashed potatoes. So if you're stuck for ideas on what to do with all your leftovers, read on and get inspired! Potato Pancakes I love having leftover mashed potatoes, because they open up so many possibilities! One of my favorite recipes to make with them is potato pancakes. All you need is a bowl of mashed potatoes and some eggs – it's that simple! I usually add in some grated cheese for extra flavor, but this step can be skipped if desired. To begin making the potato pancakes, all you have to do is mix the ingredients together until everything is evenly distributed. Then start scooping spoonfuls out onto a hot skillet or pan with melted butter over medium heat. Fry each side until it's golden brown before flipping it over. Once both sides are cooked through, remove from the heat and serve warm. These delicious little morsels go great as a snack on their own or served alongside your favorite breakfast foods like bacon and eggs. You could even get creative and shape them into waffles or croquettes instead of traditional pancakes! No matter how you prepare them, these tasty treats will surely satisfy your cravings. Shepherd's Pie I love having leftover mashed potatoes to make Shepherd's Pie. It's great because you just need a few ingredients like ground beef, carrots, onions, frozen peas and cheese. To prepare it, brown the beef, add the vegetables and seasonings, then layer the beef mixture and mashed potatoes in a baking dish. Bake it until it's lightly browned and bubbly. I like to serve it with a side of steamed broccoli and a salad. It's great for dinner and makes for a delicious leftovers lunch. Ingredients When it comes to making Shepherd's Pie, the star of the show is often the mashed potatoes. It can be easy to make too much, so what do you do with any leftovers? Here are some ideas for using up your leftover mashed potatoes! One great way to use them is by storing them in an air-tight container or jar in the fridge. This keeps them fresh and makes sure they don't go off before you have a chance to use them. You could also freeze them in portions if you want to save time when cooking later on. There are lots of different types of potato varieties that work well for mashing, such as Yukon Golds, Russets and even Sweet Potatoes - all of which will taste delicious after being made into a Shepherd's Pie topping. It's worth experimenting with flavors too - adding spices like rosemary or chives can really bring out their flavor and add some zing. With these simple tips, you're guaranteed never to waste your leftover mashed potatoes again! Preparation When it comes to preparing Shepherd's Pie, the key is meal planning and storage. Before you start cooking, take a look at your fridge and cupboards - do you have all the ingredients? If not, make sure you pick up everything you need before starting. Once that's done, think about how much of each ingredient you'll need so that there aren't any leftovers. It can be an easy dish to make too much of, which is why having good storage tips are essential! To save time later on when cooking other dishes, consider freezing your leftover mashed potatoes in portions or storing them in an air-tight container or jar in the fridge. With these simple steps and a bit of pre-planning, you're guaranteed to get creative with your meals without worrying about wasting food. Serving Ideas Once you've got your Shepherd's Pie all cooked up, it's time to think about how you want to serve it. If you feel like being creative, why not try adding a side of baked fries or scalloped potatoes? It'll give the dish an extra kick and is sure to impress anyone around the dining table. And if that wasn't enough, you can also top off your meal with some freshly chopped herbs or a sprinkle of cheese - it's totally up to you! No matter what route you go down, one thing's for certain: this hearty comfort food will be the star of the show! Grilled Cheese And Mashed Potato Sandwich I absolutely love using leftover mashed potatoes to make this delicious Grilled Cheese and Mashed Potato Sandwich! It's an amazing mix of crunchy and creamy textures, with just the right amount of melted cheese. Plus, it takes no time at all to put together – making it a great go-to meal for busy days. If you have more leftovers than sandwiches can handle, don't worry – there are still plenty of options. Baked casserole dishes like shepherd's pie or tuna casseroles are always comforting and easy to throw together. Or why not fry up some croquettes? All you need is a bit of mashed potato, eggs, flour and seasoning – plus any extra ingredients you fancy! No matter what your plans are for those leftover mashed potatoes, they're sure to be transformed into something extraordinary! Loaded Potato Skins I'm sure I'm not the only one who loves mashed potatoes, and unfortunately we often have leftovers. So what do you do with them? Well, why not turn your leftover mashed potatoes into loaded potato skins! This is a great way to use up those extra spuds while also creating an impressive dish that's full of flavor. To make this delicious side dish, first preheat your oven to 375°F. Then take four large russet potatoes and slice them in half lengthwise before scooping out the insides leaving about 1/4 inch thick walls on each skin. Place these shells onto a greased baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes until they are crisp enough to hold their shape when filled. Once cooked, spoon in some of your leftover mashed potatoes along with plenty of casserole toppings like cheese, bacon bits, chives or whatever else takes your fancy. Pop back in the oven for 20-25 more minutes until everything is nice and hot and bubbly then serve piping hot as a tasty snack or side dish - Yum! Mashed Potato Soup Have you ever wondered what to do with those leftover mashed potatoes? Well, I'm here to tell you that there are plenty of delicious options! From a simple mashed potato dip to an indulgent potato casserole, the possibilities are endless. Let's explore some of these recipes and see how we can use up our leftovers! The first recipe I want to share is my favorite: Mashed Potato Dip. This dish takes only 10 minutes to prepare and is sure to be a crowd-pleaser at any gathering. All you need are some cream cheese, sour cream, diced chives, garlic powder, salt, pepper, bacon bits (optional) and your leftover mashed potatoes. Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl until smooth and creamy – it’s that easy! Serve this tasty dip with crackers or chips for extra crunch. Next on the list is a hearty potato casserole. Start by preheating your oven to 350°F (175°C). In a large skillet over medium heat cook 1/2 cup chopped onions in 2 tablespoons butter until translucent; add 1 cup cooked broccoli florets and mix through before taking off the heat. Add 2 cups of mashed potatoes together with 3/4 cup shredded cheese (cheddar or mozzarella work great), 1/3 cup milk, 1 teaspoon dried oregano leaves and season with salt & pepper as desired. Transfer mixture into greased baking dish and top with remaining shredded cheese before baking for 30 minutes or until golden brown on top. Enjoy your deliciously cheesy potato casserole warm from the oven! No matter which option you choose, both dishes will make great use of those leftover mashed potatoes while still being packed full of flavor! So don't let them go to waste - whip up one of these recipes today and enjoy every last bite! Frequently Asked Questions How Long Can Mashed Potatoes Be Stored In The Refrigerator? Storing mashed potatoes in the refrigerator is a great way to extend their shelf life and prevent food waste. Generally, you can store them for up to four days if they are properly sealed and stored in an airtight container. If you take into consideration food safety guidelines, such as making sure your mashed potatoes have been cooled before storing in the fridge, then you can rest assured that they will last longer. For maximum freshness, it's best to use up any leftover mashed potatoes within two or three days of cooking them. What Are The Nutritional Benefits Of Mashed Potatoes? Mashed potatoes are a delicious side dish packed with nutritional benefits. They're full of starch, which is an important source of energy for your body. When eaten in moderation, mashed potatoes can also be part of a healthy diet – just remember to pay attention to portion size! One serving of mashed potatoes contains about 40% of the daily recommended value for vitamin C and B6. Additionally, it's a good source of potassium, iron, and magnesium too. Can Mashed Potatoes Be Reheated Safely? Yes, mashed potatoes can be safely reheated! The best way to do it is in the oven or microwave. You may want to add some additional seasonings when you heat them up again, like butter and herbs, for extra flavor. When freezing leftover mashed potatoes, make sure they’re stored in an airtight container so they don’t absorb any odd flavors from your freezer. Reheating frozen mashed potatoes requires a bit more time than fresh ones – just pop them in the oven until they are heated through. What Other Ingredients Can I Add To Mashed Potatoes To Make Them More Flavorful? Mashed potatoes are a delicious comfort food, but they can be easily made more flavorful with the addition of some simple ingredients. To give your mashed potatoes an extra kick, try adding herbs like thyme or rosemary, bacon, onions, garlic and cheese. You could also stir in some butter, sour cream, salt and pepper for even more depth of flavor. Vegetables such as peas or carrots work great too! Experiment with different combinations to find what fits your taste best! Are Mashed Potatoes Suitable For A Vegan Diet? Yes, mashed potatoes are suitable for vegan diets! If you're looking to make a plant based version of your favorite side dish, all you need to do is use dairy free substitutes instead of cow's milk and butter. You can opt for non-dairy milks such as oat or almond milk, along with non-dairy margarine or coconut oil. With these simple swaps, you'll have a delicious vegan friendly meal that everyone can enjoy. Conclusion It's great to have leftover mashed potatoes, but what do you do with them? The good news is that there are lots of options. You can enjoy a nutritious snack or meal by simply reheating the potatoes and adding ingredients like herbs, cheeses or vegetables. Or you can mix in some vegan substitutes such as tofu crumbles or plant-based cheese for even more flavor. Whatever you choose, your leftover mashed potatoes will be transformed into something delicious! So go ahead and get creative - turn those leftovers into something special that everyone will love! With just a few extra steps, you'll be able to make use of those mashed potatoes in no time at all. Enjoy! Read the full article

0 notes

jsms01 · 1 year

Text

Meal Prep: The Key to Eating Healthy and Saving Time

Are you tired of constantly struggling to maintain a healthy diet while also trying to save time? Meal prep might just be the solution you're looking for. By preparing meals in advance, you can easily control your portions, ensure that you're consuming the right nutrients, and save yourself a significant amount of time in the kitchen. In this article, we'll explore the benefits of meal prep, provide tips on how to get started, and share some delicious recipes that you can easily prepare ahead of time.

Table of Contents

- What is Meal Prep? - Benefits of Meal Prep - How to Get Started with Meal Prep - Plan Your Meals - Make a Grocery List - Prep Your Ingredients - Cook Your Meals - Store Your Meals - Meal Prep Recipes - Breakfast - Lunch - Dinner - Snacks - Tips for Successful Meal Prep - Invest in Good Quality Containers - Don't Be Afraid to Experiment - Make It a Weekly Habit - Keep It Simple - Conclusion - FAQs - Can meal prep help me lose weight? - How long can I store meals in the fridge? - Do I need to cook everything in advance for meal prep? - Can I meal prep if I have a busy schedule? - Is meal prep expensive?

What is Meal Prep?

Meal prep is the process of planning and preparing your meals in advance, usually for a week's worth of food. This involves cooking and portioning your meals ahead of time, so that they're easy to grab and go when you're in a rush. Meal prep can help you maintain a healthy diet, save money, and reduce food waste.

Benefits of Meal Prep

There are several benefits to meal prep, including: - Portion control: By prepping your meals in advance, you can easily control your portion sizes and ensure that you're not overeating. - Saves time: Prepping your meals ahead of time can save you a significant amount of time in the kitchen. This is especially helpful if you have a busy schedule or don't have a lot of time to cook during the week. - Saves money: Meal prep can also help you save money on groceries, since you'll only be buying the ingredients you need for your meals. - Reduces food waste: Meal prep can also help reduce food waste, since you'll be using up all of the ingredients you buy for your meals. - Encourages healthy eating: By prepping your meals in advance, you'll be more likely to eat healthy, since you'll have healthy meals ready to go.

How to Get Started with Meal Prep

Getting started with meal prep can seem daunting at first, but it's actually quite simple. Here are some tips to help you get started: 1. Plan Your Meals The first step in meal prep is to plan your meals for the week. This involves deciding what you want to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and making a list of the ingredients you'll need. 2. Make a Grocery List Once you've planned your meals, it's time to make a grocery list. Make sure to only buy the ingredients you need for your meals, and try to stick to your budget. 3. Prep Your Ingredients Before you start cooking, it's important to prep your ingredients. This involves washing and chopping vegetables, marinating meats, and prepping any other ingredients you'll be using in your meals. By doing this ahead of time, you'll save yourself valuable time during the week. 4. Cook Your Meals Once your ingredients are prepped, it's time to start cooking. Follow your meal plan and recipes to cook your meals in bulk. You can prepare large batches of food that can be easily divided into individual portions. 5. Store Your Meals After cooking, it's crucial to store your meals properly to maintain their freshness. Invest in good quality meal prep containers that are both microwave and freezer-safe. Divide your meals into individual portions and store them in the fridge or freezer, depending on when you plan to consume them.

Meal Prep Recipes

Here are some meal prep recipe ideas to get you started: Breakfast - Overnight oats with fruits and nuts - Egg muffins with vegetables and cheese - Greek yogurt parfaits with berries and granola Lunch - Quinoa salad with roasted vegetables and grilled chicken - Mason jar salads with mixed greens, chickpeas, and feta cheese - Wraps or sandwiches with lean protein, veggies, and whole-grain bread Dinner - Baked salmon with roasted sweet potatoes and steamed broccoli - Stir-fried tofu with mixed vegetables and brown rice - Turkey meatballs with zucchini noodles and marinara sauce Snacks - Fresh fruit slices with almond butter - Veggie sticks with hummus - Energy balls made with oats, nuts, and dried fruits

Tips for Successful Meal Prep

To ensure successful meal prep, here are some additional tips to keep in mind: 1. Invest in Good Quality Containers Investing in good quality meal prep containers will make storing and transporting your meals much easier. Look for containers that are leak-proof, durable, and easy to clean. 2. Don't Be Afraid to Experiment Meal prep doesn't have to be boring. Don't be afraid to experiment with different flavors, cuisines, and ingredients. This will keep your meals exciting and prevent you from getting bored with your food. 3. Make It a Weekly Habit To reap the benefits of meal prep, make it a weekly habit. Set aside a specific day each week to plan, shop, and cook your meals. Consistency is key to maintaining a healthy routine. 4. Keep It Simple Meal prep doesn't have to be complicated. Stick to simple recipes that require minimal ingredients and preparation. This will save you time and make the process more manageable.

Conclusion

Meal prep is a powerful tool that can help you maintain a healthy diet and save time in the kitchen. By planning and preparing your meals in advance, you can take control of your nutrition, save money, and reduce food waste. Start small, experiment with different recipes, and make it a regular habit. With meal prep, you'll be on your way to a healthier and more efficient lifestyle.

FAQs

1. Can meal prep help me lose weight? Yes, meal prep can be a helpful tool for weight loss. By controlling your portions and planning nutritious meals, you can better manage your calorie intake and make healthier choices. 2. How long can I store meals in the fridge? Most meals can be safely stored in the fridge for up to four days. However, it's important to check the specific guidelines for each ingredient and dish to ensure freshness and prevent foodborne illnesses. 3. Do I need to cook everything in advance for meal prep? Not necessarily. While cooking everything in advance can save you time during the week, you can also opt for partial meal prep. This involves prepping ingredients, such as chopping vegetables or marinating meat, and assembling meals closer to the time of consumption. 4. Can I meal prep if I have a busy schedule? Absolutely! In fact, meal prep is particularly beneficial for individuals with busy schedules. By investing a few hours over the weekend or on a designated day, you can have ready-to-eat meals throughout the week, eliminating the need for frequent cooking and allowing you to focus on other tasks. 5. Is meal prep expensive? Meal prep can actually save you money in the long run. By planning your meals and buying ingredients in bulk, you can take advantage of cost savings. Additionally, by reducing food waste through portion control and utilizing ingredients effectively, you can maximize your grocery budget. Read the full article

#Easymealprep #Healthymealprep #Ketomealprep #Mealprepcontainers #Mealprepforbeginners #Mealprepforweightloss #Mealprepideas #Mealpreprecipes #Veganmealprep #Vegetarianmealprep

0 notes