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ayyy-pee · 5 months

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Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist.

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?”

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell.

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these.

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’?

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing.

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now.

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

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filmbyjy · 2 months

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MINESTREAM

SYPNOSIS > Wanting to start a new stream series with his best friends, Jay had a bright idea of playing some simple Minecraft with them. Everything was normal, until he realises there is another person in the call with them. He quickly learns that it was ni-ki’s older sister, (name). Watch how streaming a simple game of Minecraft can dig up some interesting feelings between the main leads.

EIGHT – asscrack

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: the inspiration behind jake’s little world naming…that was the first word that popped into my head. don’t ask why. I’d like to know too.

finally after so long with multiple technical issues on jay’s end, the minecraft series could officially start. he could hear jake and ni-ki just chatting about the free online soccer game they found on steam. his eyes gazed the mute button right beside your username. the other boys had turned on their cameras in discord while you and angel(Yvette) didn’t.

he hasn’t once heard your voice. well, he could barely hear your voice since he shut ni-ki’s stream off earlier due to the boys attempting to catch something. he only heard your giggle once and that was it. nonetheless, in that short moment he thought you sounded adorable. his heart drumming in his chest, wondering how your voice would sound like.

he shook his head and clicked on the stream button. as per usual, he puts on a waiting screen to tell the viewers that ‘hey, we’re going to play soon. please wait.’

he unmutes in the discord, “hey, everything has been set up. I just wanna ask what should the server name be?”

“asscrack.” jake suggests as he looks up from his computer and directly into the camera.

“what?” heeseung speaks up as he was caught off guard by the weird name.

“I don’t know, don’t ask me. I’m shit at giving names to things.” jake shrugs. the other boys deadpanned at him.

“let’s name it…sunoo and the boys.” sunoo suggests.

“as if. just put the default ‘My World’ that’s the easiest. not a single hassle to the world.” jungwon adds.

“Alphas.” sunghoon voices out.

“uhh, have you forgotten there are two girls here?” ni-ki says.

“well, who cares about that. Women can be dominant too.” sunghoon shrugs.

jay sighs, “I’m just going to call it MineStream.”

“lame ass name.” jake says. jay turns on his camera on discord and zooms in the camera to his face. he gave jake a death stare and so jake awkwardly laughs it off.

“okay, you scare me. I’m sorry.” jake pouts.

as for you, the moment jay opened his facecam. your eyes widened, a tiny gasp left your throat. since no one could see/hear your reaction due to you being muted and your camera was turned off, you were basically in shock. that man is most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

the way his eyebrow raises as the rectangle glasses suited his face. he was just in a simple black shirt and his jet black hair was parted prettily. good lord. you were going to play with him? you were going to play with all these pretty boys?? oh lord.

“okay, the world is loading so wanna do the intro when we all load into the world?” jay asks.

“yeah, we should. we have new guests here and we have to introduce the fans too!” sunghoon says.

“alright, I’ve already loaded in. I sent the world invite into the discord. by the way, there are mods that I added to make the game more interesting.” jay says.

“the only interesting thing we should try to do is do hardcore mode or like a ‘if one person dies, everyone dies’ kinda thing.” sunoo suggests.

“we could do that for another time.”

you had clicked on the link and waited to load into the world. since ni-ki helped to create your account, you could easily go in and of course he was your first friend in the game. you had finally clicked turned on the camera in discord and so everyone could see you. you weren’t exactly streaming but you were recording for a video since ni-ki suggested that putting up videos onto YouTube also generates money. once everything was settled, jungwon claps his hand and starts off with the intro.

“hello everyone, today we are-” ni-ki’s character punches jungwon’s as he was talking. “ni-ki!”

“whoops misclick.” ni-ki says. jungwon rolls his eyes.

“today we are playing minecraft! woo!!”

“the premise of how this started. jay hyung wanted to do a series together that was nostalgic and so we decided to go with minecraft because who doesn’t love minecraft!” sunoo says.

“besides our normal friend group, we have two other people on here! let’s welcome angel and (name)!”

“hello hello.” angel says. her little vtuber character moves and tracks her movement.

“woah, cool character, angel. it’s really pretty.” sunoo says.

“oh, thank you.” angel smiles. everyone’s attention was now on you.

“oh umm, hi. I’m (name). I’m ni-ki’s older sister.” you waved towards the camera. everyone was mesmerised (excluding heeseung and ni-ki), you were beautiful.

“good god.” jake says.

“you have a very sexy voice. would love to hear that all night-” sunghoon gets cut off.

“sunghoon hyung, i will find a way to ban you from this server.” ni-ki warns him.

you giggled and jay’s heart melts. god, he’s a simp but he can’t show that…his facecam was turned on. jay turns to read a couple of his comments. most of them were simping for you. kinda made him jealous, not going to lie. plus, it didn’t help that jay had this overlay thing where whoever talked, it would display the person’s facecam (if turned on) from discord to his livestream.

— “she’s so pretty.”

— “wow, she’s so…no wonder she’s ni-ki’s older sister. the family genes are so strong.”

“let’s just start playing. gather resources everyone.” jay says.

and so everyone does. each of them collected wood, from the trees. you sat there looking clueless and so jay comes up to you in game.

“something wrong?” he asks.

“oh, sorry. this is my first time playing minecraft so I have zero clue how to do things.”

“want me to guide you?”

“sure.”

jay happily guides you on how to play the game, from punching wood to making crafting benches and finally making tools. jay turns to read the comments for a bit,

— “woah, what is this visual couple going on?”

— “yoooo, they would look cute together! like wow.”

jay was satisfied by the comments. he can’t help but look at your facecam, your concentrated face as you mined for stone and attempted to make stone weapons.

“hyung!” jungwon whacks jay’s character. it causes him to turn around.

“did you have to hit me.” jay deadpans.

“whoops, anyways. ni-ki and sunoo found a cave. I don’t remember minecraft caves being fucking huge.”

“there was a huge update I believe 1-2 years ago so yes, huge cave.”

“they also found a mob spawner with saddles in the chest and jake hyung stole them to try and get horses.”

jay sighs, “can’t say I’m not surprised.”

“are you and (name) noona flirting?” jungwon suddenly asks. it causes you and jay and to look at each other in game before turning to jungwon.

“no? he’s just teaching me how to play minecraft.”

“yeah, she doesn’t know much about the game so what better way then to teach her?”

“don’t believe it one bit. next thing you know, we will have a couple in a minecraft server who share a house together, sleep together and have cats and dogs together.”

— “oooo, jungwon is onto something.”

“the comments are agreeing with me.” jungwon smirks.

“shut the fuck up, my friend.” jay shoos jungwon away. the younger boy runs off to find sunghoon, who wants currently getting chased by a creeper.

jay sticks by you throughout the whole thing, he gives you tips and even hands you some stuff.

“we are making a community.” heeseung says.

“and why?”

“because with 9 people on this server, all the resources are going to be sucked up. also I am not sharing a house with any of you. especially, (name). she’ll make the house with pink wood.”

“there’s pink wood?” you say.

“there is, you just need to find a cherry blossom biome.” jay explains.

“why are you helping her?” heeseung asks.

“because she doesn’t know how to play and I’m just being a gentleman since you guys aren’t helping her, clearly.”

jake bursts out laughing, “I’m sorry but this is the first time I see you being so gentlemanly to a woman.”

“do you want me to set myself into creative so I can blow up your shit dirt house.” jay threatens.

“go ahead, I feel like renovating it anyways. just let me move my stuff first-”

sunoo quietly hands jay some tnt and a flint and steel. before jake could even grabbing his things from the chest. jay covers his base with the tnt and ignites it. it hisses.

“(name), I suggest you run if you don’t wanna blow up.” jay warns.

“oh.” you quickly dashed out of the way and the explosion was massive. it causes sunghoon to yell.

“I had a pet dog in there…” jake says.

“too bad, mess with me again and I’ll burn your next house.” jay says.

jake definitely learnt his lesson of not teasing jay during this session.

taglist[open]: @bldelaine @velvtcherie @shalkeren @kgneptun @yenqa @dammit-jjk @sionshiii @enhaz1 @mrchweeee @ncityzenz @autumn583 @okokok4 @ariadores @n1k1mura @kwiwin @drunkdazeded @justkatey @thatsroug @auesoooo @bunchofroses07 @j4ysluv @heeseungwifeyyy @smouches @bubblytaetae @dimplewonie @brachioanton @blackhairandbangs @heestrawberries @amesification @rizzshimura @y4wnjunz @rainyjy @pkjay @simjyunnie @imtoanonymousforyou @jungwoneez @jeongingf1 @astrae4 @heartswonn @pinkishyngs @heeseungsbabyy @in-somnias-world @ramenoil @wantmatthew @leehanascent @kayyssw @allisonleannn @kim2005bomi @saurxcream @urmomssneakylink @zyvlxqht @honeyboobear @ddazed-lhs @bee-the-loser @sunkislove @eleanorheartschishiya @jayjongie @woninluv @artstaeh @jwnghyuns @junissy

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moon-rivr · 4 months

Text

playing roblox with miguel :3

contents: some mild language 🥸

author’s note: i wrote this just for the sake of it so don’t take it too seriously 😭 got like three vc warnings yesterday in cart ride into josh hutcherson 😓

word count: 1.6K

Miguel found himself getting jealous of a sixteen year old kid. And he hated every second of it.

You'd been skipping on spending time with him to spend time with Miles, going from thirty minutes to almost two hours now. And while he knew that you had the right to go out and spend time with your friends, the truth was that your absence was starting to take a toll on him. Which is why he suggested the idea to you just when you were about to leave.

"Would it be an inconvenience if you played with me instead?" He spoke up when your hand touched the door knob, your brows raised in confusion. "I don't think you'd like it too much. But I'd love to play with you. Let me just send a message to Miles," you told him, taking off your jacket and hanging it on the wall hook. After sending a message to miles that you wouldn't be showing up for the daily game sesh, you pulled out your computer and settled down on the couch.

You stifled a laugh when you saw Miguel wearing his glasses, one finger tapping at the screen like a grandpa would do. "Stop laughing and come help me out," he grumbled, looking up from the phone at you. You got up from your spot on the couch, bending down to his level at the kitchen table to look at the phone. "Let me see the phone then," you told him, a dirty look being shot your way. "I'm not completely useless. Just show me how to do it," he responded, already annoyed and he hadn't made an account yet.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, filling out the information that was necessary to make an account. "All you have to do is make a username," you told him, going back to your spot on the couch. A couple minutes later, you received a friend request from 'bigbrain2099.' You scrolled through the games catalog, trying to find something that wouldn't piss him off too badly. "How do you feel about playing 'Da Hood'?" You inquired, a curt nod coming from him, his attention on setting up the voice chat settings.

"Where are you?" He asked after five minutes, running around in circles to look for you. "I'm by the bank. If you want, I'll go look for you," you told him, his fingers already on the controls once more when you finished speaking. You decided to go inside of the bank, punching the money registers while you waited for him to come find you. You went back outside when you saw his avatar come into frame, letting out a small gasp when he got shot. You were about to pick him up so he could heal properly but some headless girl took him away before you had the chance.

"Can you let my boyfriend go, please?" You pleaded with the girl, chasing her down the street. The girl continues running down the streets, going inside one of the houses and locking up the door. "I'll let him go under one condition," the girl spoke from the inside, another gunshot being heard after she finished. "I need a Discord sugar daddy so get him to agree to that and I'll let him go," she added on, your eyes immediately going over to Miguel. You saw the scowl on his face deepen even further, his hands gripping the phone with no remorse.

"Why do you play these games?" He asked you in a meek voice, sounding more disappointed than anything. "They're not that bad, it's just we got into a bad server," you tried to defend yourself, knowing damn well it was always this bad. "I'll give you a hundred thousand if you let him go," you unmuted your mic, speaking to the girl once more. "Broke ass bum. Get your money up," you heard Miguel's voice come from inside of the house, a *twack* being heard afterwards. "Make that 150 for the attitude."

"Pinche gonorrea hijo 'e puta. Me tienen hasta la puta madre," he grumbled, getting shot at for the thousandth time in the span of five minutes. "The way you switch from different types of Spanish is so poetic, truly," you murmured, a small smirk on your face at the glare that he shot you. "¡Coño! Vete a la chingada!" he screamed out once more, getting shot at just when he managed to find you once more. You resisted the urge to laugh so you wouldn't get him even more pissed off, running around to get some food for energy.

"Baby, some girl dressed in a thong killed me," he grumbled, putting the phone down on the table with more force than necessary. He rubbed his eyes as he waited for his character to respawn, a laugh threatening to come out of your chest at the sight. "I'll give you the money to get a gun once you come and find me again," you told him, watching his avatar come into sight after a couple seconds. The two of you ran into the armory, dropping some cash onto the floor for him to grab. "Do I step on it or just click on it?" he murmured to himself, doing both just to be safe.

He went back to find the girl, unable to get over the fact that he'd been killed by someone's e-kitten. "Please, I'm sorry! Your voice just sounded so hot when you were cursing," the girl pleaded, using an over exaggerated soft voice. You glanced over at Miguel, shooting the girl in the back of the head. "Too bad that he's my boyfriend," you grumbled, letting Miguel take the reign and shoot her. Gunshot after gunshot came, his frustrations being taken out on her. The girl began to crawl away once Miguel stopped shooting, being stopped by his avatar stomping down on her.

"Let's go play something else. I can't handle any more comments about my voice," he spoke up, looking over at you. You shrugged, exiting the game and scrolling through some more of the games that were available. You ended up choosing a candy land obby that seemed pretty easy, Miguel joining you a couple seconds later. You'd underestimated the size of his hands compared to the phone, his fingers making it impossible for him to move with the agility that the game required. Every time he kept getting close to making the jump on the first stage, he kept falling.

"Dawg, what the hell?!" He screamed, his voice booming in the apartment when he fell off once more. He slammed the phone against the kitchen table, taking a couple seconds to take a breather before he picked up the phone once more. If it weren't for the fact that you seemed to really enjoy playing these games, he would've rage quit by now. "Ay bendita sea," he grumbled once more, falling just as soon as he made it past the second stage. "You can do it, baby," you cheered him on as you waited for him on the platform, having made the jump a couple minutes prior.

Miguel had finally managed to make the jump onto the platform, having to use just the tip of his finger so he wouldn't slide off when he got pushed off by someone behind him. "What the fuck is your problem?!" He screamed at the avatar who pushed him off once he came back, a kid's voice coming in through the other end. "My mom said you're not supposed to cuss," the boy told him, your lips pursed as you suppressed a laugh. The kid didn't sound any older than 5. "Your mom probably doesn't even like you. You probably ruined her every dream and aspiration just by being born," he grumbled, your eyes darting up to him.

"I don't know what asparation means, anyways my mom died last week," the kid's voice coming back, sounding a bit like he was holding back tears. "The point still remains," you'd expected Miguel to apologize to the kid, not double down on the insult. "MIGUEL! He's sorry, he didn't mean that. Aren't you?" You spoke up, unmuting your mic as you gave Miguel a glare. "Sorry," he mumbled, his voice doing nothing to mask the irritation he was wielding. He raised his hands up in his defense at your glare, his attention back on his phone after a couple seconds.

You figured Miguel left the game on accident after that, waiting for him in the stage that the two of you had left on. Your attention was ripped away from the computer when you heard a shatter on the floor, looking over to see Miguel’s chest heaving as he stomped on the phone. The pieces of the phone clattered with every step that he took, his scowl deepening further with every second that passed. "What'd the phone do?!" You exclaimed, standing up from your spot on the couch and walking over to him slowly.

"Pinche escuincle got me banned," he grumbled, taking his feet off the phone once he was satisfied with the destruction of it. (fucking brat) "Was breaking your phone really necessary?" You inquired, your mouth shutting when his gaze came back to you. "I don't know why you like playing such stress inducing games. The only reason I did all this stupid shit was because I missed spending time with you," he told you, his breathing coming back to normal as he gripped one of the kitchen chairs. "Hey, it's okay. Maybe next time we'll just play Hello Kitty tycoon," you mumbled, bringing him close to you for a hug.

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 1 year

Note

girl yeeeesssss spill the fucking tea 😫 don't go hiding that drama in the tags

Okay, so originally I wasn’t going to say anything because I did not have the energy or desire to rehash all of this to a community that I hardly interact with besides post-dumping every ~4 months. But then, ironically, two people DM’d me about this this week and now I’m feeling spiteful again, so let me regale you with the cringe tales of the Tumblr g/t community and why it gives me a headache to think about. And you know what? This bitch is being a pinned post, too, because I’m not going to let it be swept under the rug anymore. I’m rocking the boat, I’m naming names, I’ll be a little goblin starting dumpster fires.

Now, I will say there are definitely further issues in the community that I can’t personally speak on – rampant racism, transphobia, etc. That’s not to say these things aren’t happening or aren’t important to bring attention to, but I am not someone who witnessed it firsthand or experienced it. In my handful of years being active in this community, they are topics that have been brought up a fair few times, which is enough of a sign that it’s an ongoing issue. However, I also have not looked at any g/t related tags in almost a year, so whether or not these discussions are still happening or have been relatively resolved, I don’t know. It’s not my place to talk about them in depth when I would have no idea what I’m talking about or what to reference, in which case I implore others who have unfortunately dealt with this to please speak out about it. There’s other drama I am able to talk about because I went through it myself or by proxy, and so that’s only what I’m going to be relaying in this post.

I feel like the most infamous implosion was the GTMS/Chamomile-g-tea debacle from half a year or so back, but at the same time based on the messages and DM’s I’ve received, it seems like…a lot of people have forgotten about that, or at least weren’t around/invested enough to know what happened. The quick recap is that @unicornofgt created a written series about giant mech suits that were actually powered by giant humans in a post-apocalyptic setting, inspired by a post made by our shared friend bolshoycorvid about Pacific Rim. It grew into a fairly well known series in the community, and while I had only read the first chapter, I still at least recognized it from my mutuals and some of the tags.

And then Cham found it and became utterly obsessed with it, pumping out fanart left and right and opening the floodgates for its popularity. And that’s so cool! That’s great that such a talented artist with a large following genuinely enjoys someone else’s work that much, and is introducing it further to the fanbase for people to read! It’s amazing to get that kind of feedback to know people want to make art of your handcrafted characters because they adore them that much, it’s one of the best compliments a writer can get!

Except Cham really started getting into it. Like, helping-create-two-Discord-servers-without-permission, kind of into it. Like, posting-fanart-on-multiple-platforms-without-source-credit, kind of into it. Like, repeatedly-responding-to-messages-about-the-characters-without-consulting, kind of into it. And when I tell you her art for the main characters were everywhere, I mean they were everywhere, not just in the Tumblr g/t community. Tiktok, Twitter, Instagram, they were posted, and they were never credited back to unicornofgt. I had friends send me her animatics of it, gushing about how amazing it was, totally unaware that it was a storyboard to the first chapter of GTMS (which I recognized and told them, at least).

And was unicornofgt mentioned in any of these posts, was their fic linked, was it even noted that these weren’t her original creations she was spamming to every platform? Nope. Not a word. They actually had to repeatedly ask Cham to credit them as she continued to drop the ball, and even so it was too little too late, finally coming in the few weeks before unicornofgt put a stop to it altogether. Some platforms would only allow an additional note to be added via comment, which was often missed or drowned out by the sea of other messages. Other places like Tumblr could allow a full body edit, however that did nothing for the hundreds of reblogs that were already circulating without a link back to unicornofgt, and are still out there, even if unicornofgt had Cham delete her GTMS posts.

And naturally, if you’re not in the already niche Tumblr community, and even if you’re new to said community, you would have no idea! You would see her post these characters, answer questions about details for these characters, maybe even be invited by Cham to one or both of the two Discord servers for these characters (of which unicornofgt was a member of, but more often than not still not addressed for their story as Cham would take over and talk about GTMS when they were not online to agree/disagree) – Of course you’d naturally assume these are her characters and her story, and even if you knew different, you might become one of the many people swept up in the fandom environment created by Cham, which treated her as the forefront of it.

And please, don’t think I’m taking this out of context. Understand that unicornofgt DM’d me about all of this before they eventually abandoned their Tumblr a while ago due to this situation and the rampant bigotry in the community , and you can read their farewell post here. They told me about the growing anxiety and morphing disdain they felt when it came to their series, because it felt like that creative freedom had been robbed, pressured to morph their original vision to appease Cham, even at the expense of their own passion for GTMS. They felt unheard, ignored, and pushed aside while Cham got to reap the benefits of their own hard work to bring it into existence in the first place. No matter how much they spoke about it in private with Cham or openly on the two Discord servers (they had never wanted in the first place), it didn’t matter.

They told me about the instances in which they had multiple talks with Cham about this crossing boundaries, but ultimately not feeling they could enforce them because as a meager content creator, they should feel grateful that someone so popular was giving their work as much attention as it was getting. Friends and followers agreed with that sentiment because more and more people were becoming unaware who the true creator was, and it seemed on the surface unicornofgt consented. They told me about how Cham had to be repeatedly told to stop and redirect any questions relating to GTMS to unicornofgt, instead of taking it upon herself to answer them, as a majority of the time whatever she said was at best a bad rehashing of unicornofgt’s own explainations that watered down unicornofgt’s characters to “silly stupid little incompenant man” and “big badass woman who loves him sooo much”, and completely ignored bolshoycorvid’s characters altogether. Sure, to Cham’s benefit, she would back down…for a little while, and then start those habits all over again and ignore what was previously requested, especially during the mini internet breaks unicornofgt would have to take since the pressure gave them further fatigue, contributing to their pre-existing chronic health problems.

Let’s not forget the free for all fandom that was created as well. Anyone with questions/comments/concerns all went straight to Cham and rarely to unicornofgt. Art requests, ideas or what-ifs, AUs – all to Cham. Her friends and mutuals straight up telling bolshoycorvid that they’ve never read their GTMS fics despite them being a fair chunk of the overarching universe, simply because they were hardly acknowledged in Cham’s art and frequent posting. The influx of underaged users coming in to join the fun and the Discord servers, which unicornofgt had already said they were uncomfortable with and had wanted the main server to at least be 18+ (a request that was, once again, ignored by Cham, who irresposibily never checked the ages of new users to the point any and all of her mod privileges were revoked and all invites were turned off). So many problems came from having those kids in an 18+ space, essentially taken over by Cham, that unicornofgt decided to pull the plug on the entire server and cut finally Cham off a week later.

From my understanding, this fandom behavior was even worse on Twitter to the point the GTMS characters were selected to be used in a roleplay tournament. The host reached out to Cham for her opinion of character authenticity during the rounds, while others were asking if they could use her art/comics for voice acting. Meanwhile Cham sent all of these to unicornogft because she thought it was funny, but didn’t reiterate to any of these people that these were NOT her characters and if they wanted permission from the creator, they needed to reach out to unicornofgt. Even when unicornofgt tried to pass on this message, it was ignored by Cham’s little fandom, who continued to view her as the creative authority.

But even worse than Twitter was the Tiktok, where many of Cham’s GTMS videos went semi-viral, still leaving her sitting pretty at 18k followers while neither unicornofgt or bolshoycorvid saw any of it. Hundreds of comments gushed about the art, meanwhile both the true creators were lost in it. Eventually Cham didn’t even ask permission before posting, not bothering to check if it was true to the characters, but why stop to think when those videos are getting views up to 250k, with all the comments telling you they adore you and your work? It is your work, right?

What’s so insane to me is that you would think for such a talented artist, she would know the value of being properly credited for your work, especially fanwork across multiple platforms. But no, it had to be explained to her the importance of crediting the real creators of these characters in her posts, and the highly contrasting way people consume art, quick and easy to appreciate, vs writing, which takes more time to consume and appreciate. This isn’t some multi-billion dollar international franchise that’s universally recognized at a glance like DC/Marvel. This was a fun little series created between friends and shared with a small community as something new to enjoy for a little while. It’s not a licensed IP, it’s someone’s personal pet project that they enjoy. It’s completely unreasonable to assume a rando on Twitter is going to look at a badass pose of a giant woman and know that it at least came from an obscure series from an obscure fandom by a single person who was just trying to have fun on the internet. Hell, even 4chan users on the hentai board ask for sources all the time, to know who created these characters they’re jacking off to so that they can go check out their other work!!

Instead, you try to get the source for a GTMS fanart, you likely get Cham, and from Cham you get…no one. Because she failed over and over to make reference that it belonged to anyone else, via tags or in the text body, until long after it was too late with an edit. And there’s no sense in trying to beat around the bush, that’s borderline art theft. You took a character word for word, design for design, setting for setting, and sold it off as your own. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t your intention, that you were ignorant of the consequences – it’s what happened and it needs to be owned up to. This isn’t a petty squabble between two teens on fanfic.net about a demonsona OC for Sonic Underground, this is an adult making a conscious decision to post content of something that doesn’t belong to her and not give an ounce of credit. Not only that, it just furthers the divide between artists and writers in a creative space, with the latter hardly ever getting their dues for putting in their effort for a written piece that an artist can doodle in 15 min.

It was like creating a spectacle out of smoke, a flimsy foundation that was bearing its full weight down on the mental and emotional health of the person who actually created it. In a matter of months unicornofgt had gone from a simple writer of funny size difference things to being forced to watch their vision be watered down for the sake of uwu soft giantess wholesomeness, none of it being done by their hand.

And I think the worst part about all of this, after this whole mess finally came to light thanks to unicornofgt finally finding the courage to put their foot down and cut Cham off completely (both as a friend and for having permission to make anything GTMS related in the future), is that it was unicornofgt who had to leave this platform. It was bolshoycorvid who had to leave, in part for other reasons, but because they were also snuffed during this fiasco as well as both a co-creator and someone who had their own canon OCs/fics in the GTMS world. It was other friends and mutuals who left because they couldn’t stand the toxicity of this fandom anymore, the hypocrisy, the sheer lack of critical thinking and the inability to hold people accountable for their actions. GTMS was essentially abandoned after the dumpster fire was put out and that was it. The series that everyone seemed to fawn over and adore was forgotten at the drop of a hat.

Why? Because it wasn’t the written fics or unicornofgt that everyone was attached to; it was Cham’s art and her version of an OOC story she was pushing they loved. And once she stopped posting it, that was it. Dead in the water. Absolutely tainted. Can you blame unicornofgt for not wanting to touch their own creation that they had made from the ground up and put so much thought and energy into, all because it had been essentially stolen and ruined by someone with a much larger following? A following that hit over 20K during Cham’s GTMS reign across multiple platforms , might I add, while unicornofgt was lucky to see a fraction of that for the same concept.

I also want to note again that these are retellings told directly to me from the persons involved, including unicornofgt prior to their leaving, former fans, and Discord members, that I am airing with their permission. I’m also not someone who has a lot of social media or who followed GTMS at all, this is almost entirely coming from the creator (the REAL creator) in the time before they left, their experience dealing with the fallout, and the sentiment that even still they don’t hate Cham, but just wish there was even a single legitimate consequence on Cham’s part (and that non stop self bashing at the rescue of yes-men does not count). And it hurts to see a fellow g/t content creator be so scarred from this, to lose all interest in the things they cared about most and only wanted to share with their friends, due to one person’s inability to stop and think about their actions. And sure, maybe this is old drama, maybe it’s small and petty to still bring up, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else is going to pull back the rug that this was swept under, so it might as well be the local menace to the community to make a long ass post about it. Chamomile-g-tea killed an entire series and drove the creator, the co-creator, several fans and several more friends who also made g/t content off of an entire website because she couldn’t be bothered to not feel entitled to other people’s toys.

I lost a lot of good friends as a result of this, and the g/t community lost a lot of good content creators as well, to the point this really was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me to say fuck it. To sit here and watch my mutuals abandon their Tumblr’s and all their works in favor of avoiding Cham and her followers who keep pretending she did nothing wrong, acting like her excitement justified her “promotion” of the story, never holding her accountable and accepting at face value her claims that she had no idea the distress she was creating, letting her act as if she’s the victim of this whole ordeal – nah, chief. It didn’t matter if it was on purpose or not, it still happened, and she was allowed to get away with it scot-free, so I will continually throw this in everyone’s face so that the g/t community never forgets its track record .

Because I really don’t understand how this entire community can go through the same run around of “is fearplay/petplay morally wrong to create in a place full of minors” (which is another debate I am NOT getting into right now) and cause several blogs to abandon ship over the backlash they received…but a well known artist forces a popular series to be discontinued and runs off the original creator and their friends after she stole their concept, and everyone is just like “damn, that sucks, she just got too excited /:” and pretends it’s nothing? There have been plenty of former blogs that were called out for less and were forced to be accountable for whatever fuckery they were doing. Besides, I thought we were supposed to be thinking about the poor children here, the sweet minors, which was what her wholesome SFW blog catered to. Last I heard from one of her followers she started posting softcore GTS (I wouldn’t know, I have literally 0 desire to scout her blog), which sure, go ham bestie with your titties and light crushing, we all know I’m an 18+ blog.

But then she continues to interact and mass reblog from minors and bring them into her inner circle, sooo…which is it? Are we worried about corrupting the kids or not? Do minors have the ability to use critical thinking about what concepts are right or wrong, or not? Are people accountable for what they post or is it the responsibility of the viewers who need to heed the tags? Y’all don’t get to have it both ways. Not to mention, I will reiterate again, she never verified anyone’s ages and let them in freely to what was intended to be an 18+ space on the GTMS servers, which created PROBLEMS to the point the servers had to be shut down.

Everyone else can sit around thinking she got off scot-free and never needing to address the fact she destroyed an entire series beyond a meaningless sorry, but I’m not going to forget, even if I’m still the only one left from that era and friend group to be able to tell this side of the story. That hurt my friends just as much as it hurt the community to lose such incredible writers and their beloved content, and that’s inexcusable to me. Writers in general are already treated awful, especially in the g/t community, to the point people have the audacity to complain there’s no new content to enjoy after all the good writers got fed up with the lack of recognition. Art and writing are two different mediums and they both require an insane amount of talent to pull off beautifully – just because you can enjoy a pretty picture in 15 seconds versus a plot-rich fic in twenty-five minutes does not make one superior to the other. But if those fics are continually pushed aside, then why would any creator waste their hours and days and weeks and months making a story for no one to see?

Writing out concepts and ideas are a labor of love that are graciously shared to YOU to also enjoy. Trust me, I have no problem keeping an idea to myself or to be tossed back and forth to my friends for fun, it’s far less effort to still ‘see’ whatever story I would have jotted down for 20K words. If the community is going to continue treating writers like shit, as demonstrated through this hot mess, then of course no one is going to stick around to deal with it. A talented writer lost the world they built, the characters they developed, the story they were trying to tell, to one single artist, yet they were the one who had to pack it up and call it quits after getting hit with hate, while the other gets to roll in the second hand clout from un-credited posts across various platforms to further their own artistic career.

And frankly, I don’t really care about what kind of reception this post has; if it’s only seen by 5 people or if it’s seen by Cham herself, if people agree or disagree vehemently with it. This blog is also more or less dead aside from the few times a year I drop a new fic or art, so feel free to scream into its void as much as you want lmao

#g/t #g/t community #gtms #so anyways yeah fuck the g/t community all my homies hate the g/t community #and there's soooooo so so so much more drama that i didn't even touch here #because my main thing was about cham and i started getting more and more heated as i wrote this lmao #but i also prob won't be talking about those other dramas either because i just cannot bring myself to care anymore #if the last thing i do here is to bring light to this situation than so be it #idk i dont rly have much to say besides that i miss my friends and i miss the good times of 2019/20 and i miss the vibes

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mayhem24-7forever · 2 years

Text

Cowgirl Lessons

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range) x F!Reader Oneshot

Summary: When she decides to spend her spring break from grad school in Wabang Wyoming, Y/N finds herself getting a little extracurricular education from a dashing cowboy named Rhett Abbott... with important courses like two stepping, cowboy hat law, bull riding, and lassoing/rope work.

Author’s Notes: Firstly, I don’t want minors reading any of my fics, even if they are SFW so this one is especially off limits! I deserve a safe place to express myself so please respect my boundaries. this is super long (like over 15k lmao) but it’s my birthday so #treatyoself. this came out of a conversation with @hyperfixatingmenever and @a-reader-and-a-writer on the top gun discord… so this is dedicated to the server. Big thanks to everyone who helped me out with this including @marvelandotherfandomimagines and @topguncortez. fic divider by the lovely @a-reader-and-a-writer 💕

Content Warnings: bull riding (poor bulls tbh at least this is fake), mentions of injuries from bull riding, people referring to rhett as the town slut/manwhore (because he is and I love him for it), reader is referred to as a “city girl” so i’m very sorry to anyone from the country, small children being embarrassing menaces, overprotective brothers, profanity, drunk guy cat-calling once, drinking, dancing (two-stepping), flirting (like SO much flirting), making out, distracted driving (DO NOT FUCK OR FINGER WHILE DRIVING IN REAL LIFE ITS UNSAFE), fingering, teasing, one (1 singular) spank, dry humping/riding, unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it before you tap it in real life guys even if clean/on the pill), rope bondage, consensual somnophilia (waking up to being eaten out after giving permission the previous night), oral sex (female receiving), shower sex, having trouble walking after getting railed

The tiny town of Wabang, Wyoming was not where Y/N had thought she’d ever willingly choose to take a vacation, especially if she had other more exciting options. Nevertheless, it was where she found herself on her spring break from grad school, having decided to accept her brother’s invitation to spend two weeks there. At first, she had been excited, she hadn’t seen her brother much since he got married to a farm girl and moved to Wyoming to start a family, only getting to see him once or twice a year when he came over for the holidays. She was also excited to finally see his ranch, never having been able to visit before. Of course, she was a little disappointed as she got texts and saw social media posts from the rest of her cohort, practically everyone she knew seemed to have escaped to Miami, L.A., Cabo, or somewhere else warm, tropical and gorgeous. It wasn’t that Wyoming wasn’t beautiful–it most certainly was. From the peaks of the picturesque mountains to the wide open plains straight out of a postcard, it was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever been. But for as amazing as Wyoming was, she couldn’t help but think that she may have made a mistake.

At that very moment, her roommates were likely on a beach, surrounded by shirtless ripped frat bros and gorgeous women in skimpy bikinis, pounding back shots of tequila while grinding on some jacked hotties to a Ke$ha song. All while she was sitting in the uncomfortable metal stands of the Amelia County rodeo ring playing babysitter for her brother’s kids as they watched a bunch of grown men in cowboy hats ride large cows and fall on their asses in the dirt a bunch. While her friends were getting drunk, having sex, and partying, she was swatting flies away from her eight year old niece’s corndog and trying to keep her five year old nephew from dripping his ice cream all over himself and everyone else within a ten foot radius.

“Auntie Y/N?” her niece, Sarah, asked and she turned to look at her.

“Yes, lovebug?” she replied.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Sarah said.

“Okay, lovebug.” she told her before turning to her nephew. “Come on, Jesse.”

She had never herded cattle before, but if she had to guess, it was probably much like trying to keep two small children focused on the simple task of walking to a bathroom. As they walked down the stairs of the stand, Jesse decided he wanted to run to the top so he could ‘see the bulls in the pens from up high’. After getting him down to the bottom, she realized that Sarah was jumping up and down to try and see over the fence, not believing Y/N when she said that the ring was empty because they were between rides and pouting when her aunt pulled her away.

As they made their way through the crowd towards the porta potties, she tried to no avail to get either of them to hold her hand, meaning she was much more focused on keeping her eyes on them than to the crowd around her. The crowd was thinning a little and the kids were still surging ahead without her, although luckily she could see them heading for the porta potty doors.

“Sarah! Jesse! Come back here!” she called out, too busy watching them to watch her step as she smacked right into a broad shouldered frame.

She was falling backwards for a moment before a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and caught her before she hit the dirt. She was pulled up to her feet and steadied by the hands as she looked up at the person who had caught her. He was tall and quite handsome with the most striking blue eyes she had ever seen, his ear-length brown hair pushed back below his cowboy hat.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asked, his voice low with just the hint of a country accent.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” she exclaimed, suddenly realizing how close she was to him with her hands on his chest as he still held her waist and she stepped back, embarrassed. “Thank you for catching me.”

“It’s quite alright, Miss. I hope I didn’t get any dirt on your pretty dress.” he replied, dusting off his gloves as she looked past him, relieved to see both kids opening the porta potty doors and stepping inside and he turned to follow her gaze. “Sarah and Jesse giving you trouble?”

“Yes, I-” she began and paused, confused. “How did you know?”

“Sarah is good friends with my niece, Amy, and they live near our ranch so I drive them all home from school on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” he explained before pulling off his glove and holding out his hand. “I’m Rhett Abbott.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” she replied as she shook it, trying to ignore the shiver of attraction that ran through her body when she felt his strong grip.

He smiled at her name and she knew that the grin of that handsome devil could be the death of her. The crowd had thinned out but she still walked closer to the bathrooms so she wouldn’t miss when the kids came out, Rhett trailing behind her. She finally noticed that he was wearing chaps over his jeans and one of the protective vests the riders had to wear over his blue plaid button up, the sleeves rolled up to showcase his well-defined arms.

“Are you a bull rider? I haven’t been able to pay much attention to the rodeo while trying to watch those two.” she asked.

“Yeah, I imagine those two are keeping you busy.” he said with a smirk. “And yes, I’m riding tonight.”

“I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure how bull riding works. I tried asking the kids but Jesse just said ‘you have to ride the bull the best’ and I have no idea what that means.” she said with a laugh and he chuckled.

“Well, there’s all kinds of rules about only using one hand and not touching the bull and tryin’ to earn the most points and the like but the most important thing is to try and last the full eight seconds without falling off.” he explained and she nodded.

“And do you often last the full eight seconds?” she asked, not entirely talking about bull riding any more.

“Oh, I always last far longer than eight seconds…” he replied with a smirk and she knew they definitely weren’t talking about bull riding anymore. “I was wondering if-”

“AUNTIE Y/N!” Jesse yelled as he ran out of the bathrooms and towards her, interrupting Rhett, who looked a little disappointed.

“WASH YOUR HANDS!” she ordered, pointing at the portable sink and shaking her head as he turned around to do as she asked, running back to her when he was done.

“Auntie Y/N, can I have another ice cream?” he asked, tugging on her dress before turning to the man talking to her. “Oh, hiya Mr. Rhett.”

“Jesse, I’ve told you about a hundred times that you can just call me Rhett.” he said, clearly amused by the young boy’s formality.

“Ma told me I have to say Mister and Miss for any adults who ain’t family.” Jesse said firmly before turning back to his aunt and tugging on her dress again, looking up at her with wide, puppy dog eyes. “Can I have another ice cream pleeeease?”

“One is enough for tonight little munchkin, but it was a good try.” she told him and he giggled.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you-” Rhett started but was interrupted once more.

“ABBOTT! YOU GOT FIVE MINUTES BEFORE YOUR RIDE! GET ON IT!” a man called out from near the fence at the back of the bull pens.

“ONE MINUTE!” Rhett called back, obviously annoyed at another interruption, before turning back to her. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to get a drink with me tonight? There’s a bar called the Handsome Gambler over on main street that I usually go to after a ride.”

He was smiling confidently but she could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes that made her feel special. Here was a man who regularly rode thousand pound cows angrily trying to buck him off but he was anxious that she might say no to a drink with him. She smiled.

“I have to get the kids home but if I’m not too tired after that, I think a drink might be nice.” she said coyly and he grinned. “But fair warning, I’m not a beer and whiskey type girl, more of a fruity cocktail kinda girl.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a pretty city girl.” he replied and she smiled.

“RHETT!” the man called again and Rhett sighed.

“Go on cowboy, you’ve got a bull to ride.” she said, patting his chest before giving him a playful push towards the arena with a wink. “We can talk more at the bar.”

“Looking forward to it.” he said with a smirk before tipping his hat and walking towards the ring.

“Good luck!” she called after him.

“Good luck Mr. Rhett!” Jesse added, waving.

She watched him disappear into the back area of the ring, off limits to the audience and once he was gone, she turned to see Sarah washing her hands.

“Come on, lovebug! We’ve got some bull riding to watch!” Y/N called to her niece who smiled as she ran over to her. “Now, this time, you’re both gonna hold my hands until we get to the stands or you’re gonna be in big trouble.”

Miraculously, they made it back to their seats without either of the kids running off. She was smoothing out her dress skirt when Jesse suddenly started crawling onto her lap.

“What are you doing, you little munchkin?” she asked, amused.

“The seats are so uncomfortable, Auntie Y/N!” he explained with a pout. “Ma and pa always let me sit on their laps.”

“Alright, come here.” she told him and he smiled widely as she took him into her arms and sat him on her lap.

“Time for our last ride of the night, folks!” the announcer said through the crackly old speakers. “And it should be a good one! We have our hometown hero Rhett Abbott, winner of the Wyoming Rodeo competition last year, placed fifth in the semi-nationals, and tonight he’ll be riding the ever ornery bull ‘Napalm’. Napalm has quite the reputation for ending winning streaks and knocking riders out of the competition, and often, into the hospital. If Rhett can last eight seconds on Napalm, he’ll be practically guaranteed to move forwards to the state competition once again this year.”

At the mention of a hospital, Y/N sat up nervously, eyes glued to the back gate where she could see Rhett climbing in a pen, the bull he was mounting bucked wildly even in such a small space. Aside from plenty of nasty looking bruises, the worst injury they had seen that night was a man who broke his leg when he was thrown from the bull but he had been smiling and had his thumbs up as the on-site paramedics had carried him out of the ring.

This bull seemed more determined than any before to throw his rider, looking so angry that he probably wouldn’t want to stop until Rhett was below his hooves. From afar she could see the handlers struggling to keep Rhett upright as Napalm threw itself around the small pen wildly. She put her hand over her mouth and began chewing on her fingernails, a habit she only did before large exams and important presentations at school. Suddenly, she felt a little hand on her arm, pulling her hand down and she turned to see Sarah beside her, looking up at her with a caring expression.

“Don’t bite your fingernails Auntie Y/N, ma says it’s real bad.” she cautioned and Y/N managed a smile as she put her hand in Sarah’s and gave it a light squeeze.

“Thank you, lovebug.” Y/N said before leaning over to press a kiss to her niece’s forehead. “Just a little worried about Rhett, I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Rhett is real good at riding bulls, pa always bets on him.” Sarah replied with a big smile at trying to be helpful.

Before Y/N could respond, a loud and low air horn sounded and the gate was thrown open. The crowd rose to their feet, blocking her view as they cheered wildly. Quickly, she shot up, holding Jesse close to her as she looked over the cowboy hats of the men in front of her, Sarah climbing to stand on her seat so she could see too. When she had seen the first bull ride of the night, she thought it was the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen, questioning why anyone in their right mind would do it as rider after rider was thrown from the bucking bulls and into the dirt. But this one made all the rest look like child’s play, the bull bucking higher and faster and harder as it spun, desperate to knock Rhett off.

Everything was happening so fast that it was almost a blur, even though it felt like a lifetime as she watched him struggle to stay on. At some point his hat had flown off and into the dirt and the bull had almost trampled on it. A cloud of dust was kicked up by Napalm’s hooves, making it a little harder to see but still the crowd cheered as Rhett stayed on. Suddenly, a buzzer rang out, signaling the end of the eight seconds. She wasn’t sure if he had jumped or been thrown but in a flash Rhett was on the ground, some handlers helping him up and away from the angry animal as others roped the bull and returned it to its pen.

When Rhett stood up fully, looking relatively unharmed as a handler handed him his hat, she breathed out a sigh of relief, one she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. As he put his hat on his head, he spun around to look at the scoreboard which changed to show him in first place, miles above the other riders in points. The crowd went wild, so loud and passionate that Y/N was certain there were Super Bowls and arena concerts with less excited crowds.

Sarah jumped up and down on her seat, her arms raised as she screamed happily, Jesse pulling himself off of his aunt’s shoulder to holler as well. She shifted her nephew so that she could clap and cheer, smiling down at Rhett’s figure in the ring. He was reveling in his victory but she could see that he seemed to be searching the crowd for something–or someone, she realized when his eyes met hers. His smile spread into a grin and she smiled back as she clapped and cheered. A handler walked up to Rhett and drew him–rather reluctantly–away from the crowd, sparing one last glance over his shoulder as he was led through the back gates out of the ring.

“Another fantastic ride for Rhett that has secured his place in the state competition!” the announcer said as the crowd continued to cheer. “Thank y'all for coming out to tonight’s rodeo, have a safe night!”

With that, the crowd began to file out of the stands and out into the gravel and dirt parking lot as she took a moment to catch her breath and calm her heart rate, so relieved that not only was Rhett okay but that he had seemingly won too. Jesse was beginning to nod off as he came down from his sugar high so she shifted him onto her hip as she led Sarah by the hand, who was rambling about how great of a ride that was and how she knew Mr. Rhett could do it. Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that her niece was harboring a bit of a school girl crush on him, which she found rather amusing.

They stood by the parking lot and played I Spy until her brother’s dirty red pick-up truck pulled up in front of them. Jenna, her sister-in-law, hopped out of the passenger seat to hug her babies, who were definitely very glad to see her. Y/N sat in the passenger seat as Jenna sat in the back between her children’s car seats. As her brother Sam pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, he looked in the rearview mirror at his family.

“Did you have a good time with Auntie Y/N?” he asked and the kids nodded before he turned to his sister. “Did they behave themselves?”

“Yes, they did.” she answered. “How was your date night?”

“Absolutely perfect.” Jenna said happily. “Thank you so much for watching them, we haven’t had a real proper date night in a few years.”

“Of course, it was fun.” Y/N replied, smiling at her sister-in-law.

“How was your first rodeo, sis?” Sam asked.

“Definitely… interesting.” she answered and he chuckled.

“Yeah, it took some getting used to when I first moved out here, Jenna used to say that I looked more scared than the actual riders.” he said and the kids laughed. “Who had the best score of the night?”

“Mr. Rhett!” Sarah piped up. “Mr. Ricky in the speakers said he gets to go to the state competition. He rode the whole eight seconds and he got way more points than everybody else!”

“Well I’ll be damned, looks like I just made twenty bucks off Carl at the seed store.” her brother said with a smile.

“Mr. Rhett and Auntie Y/N are going on a date!” Jesse exclaimed suddenly and Sam struggled not to swerve the car on the road before looking to his sister in disbelief as his son continued. “I heard him ask her to go to the place on main street where mommy says kids aren’t allowed.”

“Rhett Abbott?” Sam asked and she looked down in embarrassment at being ratted out by her nephew.

“I was going to ask if you could drop me off at the Handsome Gambler instead of my hotel.” she said quietly, referring to the little motel room her brother had put her up in because he was still working on building the new addition to the house for a spare room.

“Rhett Abbott?” Sam asked again incredulously and Jenna leaned forward to slap Sam’s shoulder and look at her sister-in-law.

“Rhett’s a nice man, you’ll have fun.” Jenna said before lowering her voice and giving a wink. “And he’s real good-looking too, you chose well.”

“No, no, no!” Sam exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis. “My little sister is not going out with Rhett Abbott the…” he trailed off as he glanced into the rearview mirror to see the kids listening in and quietly added “...the M-A-N-W-H-O-R-E of Wabang!”

“Daddy, what does that spell?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll tell you later, sweetie.” he replied before looking at his wife. “I can’t believe you’re encouraging this.”

“Oh, stop it Sam!” Jenna said as she rolled her eyes. “She’s an adult who can make her own choices! Besides, she deserves to have a little fun on her spring break without her big brother ruining it.”

“Fine. But if he hurts you Y/N, I swear I’ll beat his…” he trailed off again as he noticed the kids were watching. “...butt.”

The kids started giggling, thinking that their father saying ‘butt’ was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

“So, will you drop me off at the bar?” she asked her brother and he sighed before nodding reluctantly.

“Auntie Y/N and Mr. Rhett! Sittin’ in a tree!” Jesse began to sing and Jenna tried not to laugh. “K-I-S-S… I don’t know the rest.”

“It’s ‘K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage!’” Sarah exclaimed helpfully.

“If Mr. Rhett marries Auntie Y/N, do we call him just Rhett ‘cuz he’s family or do we still call him Mr. Rhett?” Jesse asked his mother.

“He’d be Uncle Rhett then.” Sarah corrected, a proud smile on her face.

Y/N felt like she was going to die from embarrassment and stared out the window to avoid looking at anyone as her sister-in-law hushed the children. She couldn’t stop thinking about her brother’s words. Was Rhett really the town slut? He flirted with her so easily that it was obvious he wasn’t new to picking up girls and he was certainly handsome enough to leave a long trail of broken hearts behind him. Rhett was probably just a player looking to get his dick wet but wasn’t that what she was hoping to do too? She supposed that she could keep her heart out of it for her pussy’s sake and have a fun little spring break fling.

Soon enough, they pulled up in front of the bar on main street and she hopped out, turning back to lean through the open window to speak to her brother.

“Thank you for the ride, Sammy, I’ll see you tomorrow morning!” she said but before she could turn around to head into the bar, he reached out and placed a hand on her arm.

“Hey.” he said lowly, not wanting the kids to hear him. “I’m serious, call me if you need a ride or help or anything, alright? I don’t care if it’s at three a.m. or something, just call me.”

“I will, Sammy, thank you.” she assured her big brother, placing her hand over his to squeeze reassuringly before turning to walk towards the door.

“Have fun girlie! But not too much fun, it might be a bit too soon for you to become a momma!” Jenna called out and Y/N laughed as she grabbed the door handle.

The Handsome Gambler was just how she would expect a bar in a small midwestern town to be. It was dim and smokey, with neon signs on the walls casting colored light onto the packed tables of men in cowboy hats and women in cowgirl boots. When she entered, a man in a trucker hat wolf-whistled at her and she had the sudden urge to turn around and leave.

“Shut up Hendricks or I’ll make you eat your teeth!” Rhett’s voice warned and she looked to where the voice had come from.

She locked eyes with Rhett, who was sitting at the bar, hat on the counter and he smiled at her, giving her the courage to continue walking. If she had thought he was handsome in his bull rider get-up, she was blown away with how he made the most casual outfit sexy. Blue jeans (with an unfortunately large belt buckle), a gray henley and a blue flannel button-up should not have been making her squirm but the way he had the sleeves rolled up to display his muscular forearms somehow made her want to climb him right there in the bar.

This feeling was only intensified when she realized that he was wearing a different blue flannel than he had earlier, meaning he had changed specifically for her. A small voice in the back of her head tried to reason that it was likely just because his clothes had been dirty and sweaty from the ring but she chose to ignore it and allow herself to be flattered he was making an effort for her. He stood as she approached, his eyes briefly skimming over her body to admire her dress before returning to her face.

“Apologies for Mr. Hendricks, he’s an annoying asshole who can’t remember his manners when he drinks but he really is harmless. In about ten minutes he’ll be passed out in his usual corner.” Rhett assured her and she laughed.

“I can handle some cat-calls, it’s when they try to get handsy that I bring out my pepper spray.” she said, partially as a joke but Rhett just pursed his lips.

“Well I can assure you no one around here is going to be bothering you. If your brother isn’t enough to deter them, I’ll make sure they get the memo.” he said earnestly and she smiled.

He pulled back her stool and helped her up, surprising her with his chivalry, so unlike the usual skirt-chasers she ran into at the university. Usually men could barely be bothered to text back and yet here was Rhett, treating her like she was royalty. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d come but I sure am glad you did.” He said as he sat back down beside her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you remember what I told you earlier.” she said coyly, testing how much he had actually paid attention to her at the rodeo.

“Kenny, I’ll have a beer.” Rhett said to the man behind the bar with a slight smirk as he added “...and can you make something like a fruit cocktail? I don’t believe the lady likes her alcohol to taste like alcohol.”

“You remembered.” she said with a laugh as Kenny went to get the drinks.

“You sound surprised. Do city boys not listen well?” he asked.

“Not too many of them.” she replied.

“Damn shame, I could listen to your cute little accent all day long.” he said and she blushed at the compliment.

“Some might argue that you have the accent.” she shot back.

“Not when you’re in my territory, sweetheart.” he said with that dazzling smile that she thought could charm the pants off a nun.

“I suppose you’re right.” she said before Kenny returned with a beer bottle and what she believed was an attempt at a cocktail, setting down in front of her a glass of pinkish red liquid and ice with a cherry on a toothpick hanging off the side. “Thank you.”

“That may be the fanciest thing I’ve ever seen Kenny make.” Rhett said when he left them to talk to a customer further down the bar. “How’s it taste?”

She took a sip and laughed, causing Rhett to ask her what was so funny.

“I’m fairly certain that this is just tequila mixed with fruit punch.” she answered.

“Really?” Rhett asked, amused and she slid the drink closer to him so he could have a sip. “Oh, that is definitely just tequila mixed with fruit punch.”

“I will say, I actually quite like it.” she said, pulling it closer to her again before popping the cherry into her mouth and taking another drink.

“So, how was your first rodeo?” Rhett asked before taking a swig of his beer. “Everything you thought it would be?”

“It was…” she trailed off, unsure how to summarize it all. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been as stressed as I was watching you ride since I presented my thesis idea last year.”

“You were worried about me?” Rhett asked and although his smirk was cocky, she could hear the undercurrent of vulnerability, like he was genuinely surprised that she actually cared about if he had gotten hurt.

“Yes, I was. That bull was like nothing I’d seen all night and the way the announcer talked about it had me squeezing Sarah’s hand probably a bit too hard.” she replied. “But I guess I had no reason to be worried because you made it look almost easy.”

“Well, I am real good at what I do.” he assured her earnestly before smirking and suggestively adding “I’m real good at everything I do.”

“Easy there, cowboy!” she said with a laugh, feeling more comfortable with him after five minutes than she felt with most people she had known for years. He was just so easy to talk to, being effortlessly vulnerable yet continually making her laugh like he was starved for the sound a way a man is starved for water in a desert.

“Just trying to keep you on your toes, girl.” he said with a wink.

“So what do you do when you’re not riding bulls or winking at girls in bars?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I work on my family’s ranch and sometimes if I have time, I hire myself out as a farmhand to other local ranchers when they need it.” he answered. “But the rodeo circuits are my main job.”

“You enjoy being thrown off thousand pound cows into the dirt?” she asked. “Do you just really like pain, is that it?”

“You and your damn wit, girl…” he said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Nobody would ever even know you’re related to quiet old Sam with a wicked tongue like that. But yes, I do enjoy it. Maybe not the pain so much but there’s just something about how exhilarating it feels during those eight seconds. So freeing.”

“Sounds terrifying, I think I’ll stick to bike riding. Or maybe horse riding if I can stop almost falling off the damn thing.” she joked.

“Not having much luck with horses then?” Rhett asked, amused.

“I swear, if Sam wasn’t holding the saddle and walking beside me, I would have fallen off the horse more this week than every rider from tonight put together.” she answered. “I’m trying my best but I don’t think I’m very good at all this cowgirl stuff.”

“Maybe you just need a good teacher.” Rhett said.

“I’m supposed to be on spring break from school.” she replied with a laugh. “I’m supposed to be relaxing and having fun, not learning.”

“Who says you can’t do both?” Rhett purred, his low voice and southern drawl sending a wave of heat straight down to her core. “I mean, you just might need some practice straddling and riding something else.”

“I suppose you have something in particular in mind for your course curriculum?” she asked, leaning in to match his low whisper.

“Maybe one or two things.” he answered with that cocky smirk she couldn’t help but love.

“Then maybe we can start class later tonight…” she said so quietly he could only hear it because she was inches from his face before she pulled backwards into her original sitting position as he groaned and added at normal volume “but I don’t go home with just any old cowboy so let’s hope this date goes well.”

“How am I doing so far?” he asked and she smiled as she sipped her cocktail, ignoring the bulge in his pants that had grown as she had gotten closer.

“Ask me again after another drink or two.” she replied and he nodded.

“Yes ma’am.” he said, eyeing her half drunk drink.

They talked for a long while about their lives, their families, their childhoods. They talked about their favorite music and their hobbies and everything in between they could think of. They were getting to know one another, really hitting it off as the rest of the bar seemed to disappear. As they talked, she had to remind herself not to get lost in his beautiful blue eyes or get distracted by his rugged beauty, so handsome he was like a movie star straight out of one of the old western films her grandfather used to watch. When they had talked so long that her cocktail and his beer bottle were empty, Rhett flagged down the bartender to order another round.

“There’s still one thing I don’t understand.” he said as Kenny placed their second drinks in front of them, nodding a thanks. “Why come out to Wabang, Wyoming for spring break? Don’t college kids usually go to the beach or somethin’ like that?”

“They do. In fact, that’s where most of my friends are right now.” she replied. “But ever since Sam met Jenna and they moved out here, we really only see them when they come over for Christmas and Thanksgiving and stuff. I’d never seen the town that my brother fell in love with almost as much as he fell for Jenna or the little ranch that he’s always talking about on the phone. I wanted to see them all for a little longer than just a few days out of the year. So, two weeks in Wabang sounded pretty nice for a break.”

“And now?” Rhett asked. “Are you disappointed that you’re not on a beach with your friends?”

“Not really… I mean of course I’m a little jealous of all the pictures they’re sending me but Wyoming is really growing on me.” she said earnestly. “And besides, it has some things I couldn’t get on a beach.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” he asked.

“Well there’s one cowboy in particular who’s really caught my eye.” Rhett quirked an eyebrow in amused interest as she continued. “He told me he’d teach me how to be a cowgirl—an offer I’m still considering by the way… oh, and there’s this fantastic cocktail that you just can’t get anywhere but the Handsome Gambler.”

“And how is that tequila and fruit punch treating you?” Rhett asked and she laughed.

“I’ll be honest, it’s better than most of the ‘fancy’ overpriced drinks I’ve ever had at nightclubs with my friends.” she answered.

“I hope you were getting others to buy those for you. Pretty girls should never have to pay for their own drinks.” Rhett said.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” she asked teasingly with a smile.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he said earnestly, without a single hint of irony and she was taken aback by his candor.

She was so used to men giving cheesy pick up lines and half-baked compliments just so they could get into her pants, that she was thrown off kilter by the realization that Rhett was serious. Evidently, he saw the surprise in her face because he leaned forwards, his blue eyes staring deep into her own.

“I mean every single word. I don’t want you to think that I’m just running my mouth to get you in bed.” he said and she froze under his gaze, struck by just how wrong she had been when she had assumed Rhett was just another player who would say anything to try and get his dick wet. “I mean of course I’d still love to have you in my bed but I really do like you.” She laughed a little at his cheeky addition but was still stunned speechless by his words.

“Rhett, I-” was all she managed to stutter out before blushing and looking down at the bartop in embarrassment. “I really like you too.”

He put his hand under her chin and pushed it upwards to bring her to look at him, his blue eyes holding her gaze intensely.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked with a smile.

“Dance?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah, dancing. They have that in the big cities right?” he joked and she laughed, looking over at the couples on the dance floor doing some kind of slow dance.

“We do have dancing in the city, just maybe not that kind of dancing.” she said, turning back to him. “It’s more like grinding… you have to be pretty drunk to do it.”

“Well, how about I teach you how to two step and you teach me how to grind?” he replied, flashing that mischievous grin again. “It can be your first cowgirl lesson.”

“I will dance with you but I will not be grinding, I’m far too sober for that.” she answered. “So are you gonna teach me how to square dance? Err, line dance? What is it called?”

“I’ll teach you to two step, I think line dancing may be a bit advanced for a first timer.” Rhett said, standing up, putting his hat on, and holding out his hand.

She took it, memorizing every line and callus of his strong hand against her soft skin, and he helped her down from the stool before leading her over to the area that was serving as a dance floor. They got into a typical slow dancing position, her hand on his shoulder and his hand resting on her waist while their remaining hands joined together. He taught her a simple move called a “two step” and then they were off, waltzing around the dance floor as she tried to remain on beat.

He would occasionally give her a pointer or correction but for the most part he praised her for getting a hang of it fairly quickly. They kept up that simple routine for an entire song and by the time the final notes of “Head Over Boots” played, she no longer had to focus on counting and her steps, instead able to simply enjoy the feeling of his hand on her lower back keeping her pressed up against him.

“Alright darlin’, this next one is a little bit faster.” he warned her with a smile as the next song began to play. “You up for the challenge?”

“Bring it on, cowboy!” she replied and he smirked.

“Alright, I warned you.” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye that made her weak at the knees, distracting her so that when he spun her out and around before reeling her back in, she was caught completely off guard.

She laughed, trying (and failing) to avoid stepping on his boots as she adjusted to the new pace and the added spins but after another song or two, she had acclimated to the dancing quite well. As “Why Don’t We Just Dance” ended, they were both breathing hard through wide grins, her heaving chest pressed against his, grateful to discover the next song was a slow song. They switched from two stepping to simply swaying, catching their breath as some melodic crooning about “Tennessee Whiskey” relaxed them against one another.

“Has anyone ever told you that your hat is sexy?” she asked once their heart rates had returned to normal and their breathing evened out, looking up at him.

“Once or twice.” Rhett replied with a smirk.

“Well, in that case…” she said before reaching up to grab his hat, pulling it off his head and placing it on her own. “How do I look? Sexy?”

“I- err… yes, you do look sexy.” he said, a look on his face somewhere between surprise and nervousness.

“You look like I just took a baseball bat to your truck headlights or something. What is it? Do you not like people touching your hat?” she asked, starting to get a little nervous that she had somehow fucked up in her lame attempt at flirting.

“No… it’s just, uh, around here a girl putting on a guy’s hat means… something special.” Rhett answered.

“Something special?” she asked.

“It’s like a… well, an unofficial rule that if a lady takes a fella’s hat and puts it on herself, then she… she’s supposed to go home with him at the end of the night.” replied, his usual cocky demeanor missing as he seemed nervous to tell her.

“Oh…” she said, understanding the full meaning of what she’d just done.

“But you didn’t know and I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so I’ll just take it back.” He said, taking his hat off of her head and placing it firmly on his own, reaching his hand back out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s a stupid tradition anyways. Just backcountry nonsense, really.”

She could tell that he seemed nervous, like she’d suddenly just slap him and storm off for daring to suggest that she had to sleep with him. She stared deep into his eyes, touched by the adoration and concern in them, genuinely caring if he had upset her. She took a breath to prepare herself for what she was about to do before launching up onto her toes, throwing her arms around his neck, and pressing her lips to his.

He seemed caught off guard for a moment before smiling against her lips as he deepened the kiss, his hands tightening around her waist to hold her closer. The kiss was so good that she almost forgot why she had initiated it in the first place, reaching up to snatch his hat off of his head, pulling back in his arms to place it firmly on her head with a wink.

“Oh no… It looks like I just have to go home with you tonight.” she purred coyly, giving him a smirk before leaning in and adding lowly “Or I guess you could come home with me since my hotel room is probably closer than your house and I just can’t wait to get my mouth on your cock.”

Rhett looked absolutely stunned, completely in awe of the gorgeous minx in his arms.

“God damn, woman…” was all he could manage to say, tipping the brim of his hat on her head up with a finger so he could hungrily kiss her again, one hand on her waist and the other on the side of her neck.

He kissed her like a man possessed until her chest was heaving against his, breathless from his affection when he pulled back and smirked at the dazed look on her face as she gazed up at him.

“I gotta get you outta here.” he growled before pulling her off the dance floor and towards the door, hand tight on her waist as he called out for Kenny to put the drinks on his tab.

It seemed like half the bar was staring at them as they exited, focused on Rhett’s hat on her head, but she couldn’t find the energy to care as Rhett looked back at her with a devilish grin that made tantalizing promises for when he got her alone. He held the door open for her as they left the bar and his warm palm was flat against her back as he steered her towards the passenger door of a blue pick-up truck. He opened the door for her and leaned in for another kiss, desperately missing the feeling of her lips against his. He had meant for it to be quick, he really had, but they simply couldn’t stop once they’d started. Her hands looped around his neck and into his hair as his hands wandered the silhouette of her body before settling on her ass with a small squeeze. She pulled back to catch her breath and put a hand on his chest as a signal to stop.

“You’d better get me to a bed, Rhett. I’m too classy to let you fuck me against your truck… well, at least not for our first time.” she said with a wink before turning to hop up into the passenger seat.

“Yes ma’am!” Rhett replied smugly as he closed the door and hurried around to get in the driver’s seat.

As he started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot, his hard cock ached, straining almost painfully against the confines of his jeans. The air was thick with sexual tension, the only noises being an old country song playing quietly on the crackly radio and the rumble of the engine. Rhett stared straight ahead at the road because he thought if he glanced at her, he’d likely have to pull over the truck and take her right there on the roadside in the bed of his truck. But he kept himself in check, thinking that she was the kind of girl who deserved to be fucked on the softest bed he could find.

He only lasted about a minute of driving before one of his hands moved from the steering wheel to rest on her thigh, toying with the hem of her dress just above her knee. His fingers wandered her thigh as he slowly pulled her dress up to reveal more and more of her bare skin. She shifted in her seat, squeezing her legs together as she tried to ignore the ever-growing wildfire of desire within her core that hadn’t given her a moment’s reprieve since it had sparked during their first kiss.

“What have we here?” Rhett asked as he caught a peek of her lacy panties as the fabric of her skirt bunched up at her waist.

The hungry rasp in his voice sent a shiver of attraction through her body and she dug her nails into the seat of his truck, gripping so hard that her knuckles were surely turning white.

“How’d you know that’s my favorite color?” he asked with a smirk and she sucked in a breath as his fingers skimmed over the waistband of her panties, and she felt as if they were miles away from the place she wanted him to touch.

“Oh god Rhett, please don’t tease.” she groaned as his wandering fingers advanced towards her clit but retreated just shy of reaching it.

“I’ll take care of you darlin’, just be patient.” he assured her, fingers trailing teasing patterns into the lacy fabric above her pussy. “Fuck, you look so sexy just sitting here all hot ‘n bothered in my truck in your pretty little dress with my hat on.”

She whined, desperately wishing for his fingers to move just inches down to relieve her burning need. Rhett’s teasing had frustrated her enough that she decided to take matters into her own hands, or more accurately, his. She grabbed his hand and pushed it down in between her legs, giving a sigh when she felt the slight pressure against her clit. Rhett chuckled but before she could ask what was so funny, his deft fingers pushed her panties aside and plunged two fingers deep into her wet core. She gasped in surprise and her hands flew to clutch his wrist as he began to slowly drag his fingers in and out.

“So impatient…” he tsked, plunging even deeper. “Do I need to tie your hands up so you’ll be a good girl?”

His words sent a thrill through her body and her pussy clenched at the thought, her walls squeezing his fingers as she let out a slight moan. Her reaction surprised Rhett and he decided to test a theory, still pumping in and out.

“Oh, you like that? You like the thought of being tied up?” he asked, voice low and rough. “You’d look so fucking hot all trussed up in my lasso.”

Once again, her pussy clenched and he chuckled. She was getting wetter by the second and he knew she was just as into the idea as he was.

“Is that what you want, girl? You want me to bring my lasso to bed? Tie you up and take you over and over until you can’t even think?” Rhett asked, stopping his movements completely when she didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling of the delicious drag of his fingers. “I said, is that what you want, girl? I won’t do shit until I know exactly what you want me to do to you tonight.”

“Yes! Oh god yes, Rhett!” she cried out, hands squeezing his wrist as if it would make him continue his movements. “I want you tie me up and fuck me so good, please Rhett!”

“There you go, darlin’. Good girls who use their words get rewarded.” he said, adding a third finger and resuming his movements as she gave a breathy moan. “Fuck, you feel so damn good around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock. So god damn wet too, all this for me?”

She couldn’t even answer with anything more than a moan as he finger fucked her but Rhett knew the answer already. His thumb swirled her clit as his fingers thrust in and out of her cunt at a relentless pace and she could hardly breathe as her climax quickly approached.

“Rhett!” she exclaimed, her hands gripping onto his arm as the waves of pleasure finally began to crest.

“Shh, I’ve got you girl.” Rhett tsked like he was trying to calm a spooked animal and it only made her pussy clench down on his fingers harder as she orgasmed. “I don’t know what kind of small city boys you’ve been fucking in the past so I gotta make sure you’re ready to take a big country boy like me.” He rode her through her orgasm, giving one last hard thrust just before it ended and curling his fingers to reach that perfect spot inside before pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. She watched breathlessly as he sucked his fingers clean of her juices, humming in content as he pulled the truck into the hotel parking lot.

“If you can make me cum like that with just your fingers, I don’t think I’ll survive tonight.” she said and he smirked.

“Let’s see how long you can last riding on my cock. Maybe you’ll make it more than eight seconds like a true cowgirl.” he joked with a wink before hopping out of the truck and heading around to her side.

Still catching her breath, she was vaguely aware of him grabbing something from the truck bed and when he opened her door, she found him hanging his lasso on his belt. She turned to hop out only for Rhett to grab her by the waist and pull her out, setting her down between him and the truck. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss that slowly built in intensity until she was so caught up in the feeling of his tongue that she just barely noticed Rhett spinning her away from the truck and closing the door, walking her backwards towards the motel. They paused briefly so she could gasp out her room number and take the keys out of her pocket, which Rhett quickly took before he resumed steering her in the right direction.

Luckily, her room was on the first floor so they didn’t have to use the stairs, which would have been impossible with the way they were stumbling around blindly, connected at both the lips and the hips. They fumbled their way down the hallway, bumping into walls and doors as they made out with a ferocious hunger for one another. Evidently, Rhett became impatient with how slow their progress to her room was and he begrudgingly pulled his lips off of hers. Before she could whine or ask what he was doing, she suddenly found herself hoisted over his shoulder, looking down at his delicious backside as his strong arms anchored her thighs to his chest.

“Rhett!” she squealed in surprise and he silenced her with a light slap on her ass.

“Hush now girl, wouldn’t want to wake the other motel guests, would we?” he said smugly as he carefully leaned down to grab his hat from off the ground where it had fallen from her head when he had thrown her over his shoulder.

He put the hat back on his head as he hurried down the hallway to her room, briefly swearing as he fumbled with the keys to unlock the door. He swept inside, kicking the door closed behind him and flicking the light switch to turn on the lamps as he headed straight for the bed. She expected him to toss her onto the bed like a sack of potatoes with his hurry and ferocity but was surprised when he carefully laid her on the bed like she was the most fragile and precious thing he had ever touched. Her heart fluttered at how special it made her feel. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes as he chucked off his flannel and his boots, dropping them on the floor before setting his hat and lasso on the bed.

“Didn’t think you knew how to be gentle, cowboy.” she said cheekily, her breasts rising and falling as she caught her breath from the excitement and Rhett smirked as he pulled off her shoes and discarded them.

“I can be gentle if that’s what you want, sweetheart.” he said as he slowly and carefully climbed on top of her, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her face even as he caged her beneath him. “I can be whatever you want, darlin’. Gentle…” he purred, pressing feather-light kisses to her neck, a smile on his lips just barely ghosting over her skin before he moved to her ear. “Rough…” he growled before surging downwards to give her a bruisingly hard kiss that took her breath away before pulling back and leaving her gasping for air, blinking up at his smug smirk. “Somewhere in between…” he said as he returned to her neck, applying a light pressure as he tongued a spot that would surely be a hickey the next morning. It was just perfect and a long moan escaped her mouth involuntarily, her arms wrapping around his neck and threading her fingers into his hair with light tugs and Rhett chuckled against her skin. “Ah, there it is.” he said smugly.

“Don’t stop!” she cried out and he complied, returning to tonguing her skin. “Fuck, Rhett, don’t stop!”

Rhett’s mouth explored every inch of her skin from the top of her neck to the cleavage above the neckline of her dress, taking stock of what spots made her mewl and squirm the most. He pushed her dress straps aside so he could press tender kisses onto her shoulder, finding a particularly sensitive spot near her collarbone that he spent extra time teasing. His hands slipped beneath her body and began to unzip her dress, only getting halfway down her back before the zipper got stuck. He pulled it again but annoyingly it held fast. He yanked it once more, grumbling in frustration against her neck when it refused to come loose.

“Slow down there cowboy.” she warned and he pulled away from her skin to look at her. “You rip my favorite dress and I’ll cut up your favorite hat.”

“Darlin’, I’d like to see you try.” he replied with a smirk but nevertheless his movements slowed to carefully finish removing her dress, the zipper finally giving way and letting him pull it all the way down.

He slipped the fabric off of her body, reveling as more and more of her body was revealed to him, inch by tantalizing inch. He admired every curve, astonished with how she only seemed to get more and more attractive the less clothes she had on. He divested her of her bra much easier than he had with her dress, able to do it one-handed and without looking from a lot of practice. As her breasts were freed, her hands went to cover them instinctually, looking shy and nervous although he simply couldn’t understand why.

“Don’t hide from me sweetheart.” he coaxed, gently pulling her hands from her chest and taking in the sight of her bare breasts and stiffening nipples. She was gorgeous and he felt like he was looking at a goddess, unable to comprehend why she would ever think she was anything other than perfect. “You’re so beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I mean it.”

She sucked in a breath at his lovely words and the almost irreverent look in his eyes as he gazed down at her body in admiration and she was caught off guard when he stooped down to return to kissing her, capturing her lips with his own before she could even have a moment to think of a response. Without the fabric of her dress as protection, the cold metal of his ridiculously large belt buckle teased her bare skin as it was pressed between their bodies and she wouldn’t be surprised if the next morning, she ended up with an indentation of it there on her stomach.

She realized that Rhett was still completely dressed while she had been stripped all the way down to only her panties. Wanting to even the playing field a bit, she grabbed at the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up, Rhett pulling back from the kiss to remove it completely, tossing it aside. She marveled at his well-toned abs, her fingers skating along the hard lines of muscle. She chuckled at the tattoo of a man riding a bull that he had on his right pec, the black ink a stark contrast to his sun kissed skin even in the low lamplight of the hotel room. He had a bruise on his ribcage that was forming and he knew it would hurt like a bitch in the morning but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he watched her eyes devour him.

“Doesn’t hurt much right now, sweetheart.” he assured her. “This was one of my luckier rides, not as beat up as I usually am even though Napalm was a real mean son of a bitch. Maybe you’re my lucky charm.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” she asked tentatively when he winced as her fingertips grazed the tender skin.

“A little.” he answered, dipping down to whisper in her ear. “But I don’t really notice it when I have you to distract me.”

“Guess I better get to distracting then.” she replied with a smirk before latching on to his neck, determined to leave a mark on him to counter all the ones he had given her.

“Tryin’ to mark me up, girl?” he asked, half a chuckle, half a moan. “Let everyone in town know you’ve staked your claim on me?”

She laughed but was cut off as it suddenly turned into a moan, his hands grasping at her breasts. She found herself unbelievably turned on by his wandering hands (and mouth) as they continued to make out, pausing occasionally only to suck a hickey into the other’s neck before returning to their mouths. With his shirt off, her hands were able to explore his body, memorizing the feel of every inch of his skin under her fingertips. Feeling his erection straining against the confines of his jeans as he ground himself against her, she let her hands trail down his body to his belt.

She mentally cursed him for having such a ridiculously large belt buckle, making it ten times harder than it needed to be for her to undo it. After trying and failing a few times, she groaned in impatient frustration, tugging at his belt in angry desperation. She felt him smirk against her lips and before she had time to react, Rhett grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. She gasped in surprise and wiggled fruitlessly in his grip as he pulled back to admire the sight of her below him.

“Your hands are getting in my way, darlin’.” he scolded playfully. “Do I need to get my lasso out or can you behave like a good girl?”

“Hmmm…” she said, pretending to think before replying with mock innocence. “I’m not sure if I can control myself, Rhett.”

“You sure sweetheart?” he asked seriously, giving her an out she didn’t need.

“I’m sure.” she replied.

“Gonna need a safeword, darlin’. Got one in mind?” Rhett asked, trailing a finger down her front teasingly and she thought carefully for a moment.

“How about ‘Napalm’…” she said, a sly smile spreading on her face. “You know, in the hopes you can last longer than eight seconds with me.”

He laughed and said “I think I know how to put that wicked tongue of yours to better use…” before pulling her in to roughly kiss her.

She got no warning before he ended the kiss as suddenly as it began and he moved to sit up on his knees, roughly flipping her over before returning to straddle her. She didn’t even have time to gasp or whine as he pulled her hands behind her back and leaned over to grab his lasso. He arranged her arms so that they were one on top of the other with her elbows against the opposite wrists before beginning to wind his lasso around them as if he was making a design of some kind.

As he worked, she groaned at the sensation of his clothed erection against her ass. Her head was pushed against the mattress, the cool sheets cushioning her cheek and teasing her hard nipples. He smugly hummed a tune that she eventually recognized at the song that had been playing in the truck on the ride from the bar. She moved her arms and shoulders around slightly to test how sturdy his work in progress was and he reached around to pull her head up slightly, a careful but firm hand on her throat.

“You really need to learn how to behave, sweetheart.” he growled into her ear and she felt a shiver run down her spine in anticipation. “If you can’t stay still until I’m done, I’m gonna leave you tied up to make you watch me jerk myself off and you won’t get to cum again tonight. Got it?”

“Yes.” she replied breathlessly, his hand around her throat gentle to not hurt her or cut off her air but still firm enough to remind her he was in charge.

“Yes, what?” he asked, squeezing just a miniscule amount so she had to take slightly deeper breaths to answer.

“Yes, sir.” she replied and he removed the pressure on her throat so she could breathe normally again, his hand only serving to keep her head up.

“Good girl.” he cooed, pressing a soft rewarding kiss onto her shoulder before lowering her back down and resuming his work.

She stayed still, just enjoying the feeling of the coarse rope on her skin until her arms were completely bound together and Rhett was seemingly pleased with his work.

“Is that too tight, darlin’?” he asked.

“It’s perfect.” she answered before smugly adding “Sir.”

In seconds, he had her flipped back over onto her back, her arms trapped beneath her but she obediently stayed still, gazing up at him faux-innocently as she waited for his next instruction.

“Alright darlin’, test it out.” he ordered smugly. “See if my ropework is adequate enough for your high city standards.”

Following his instructions, she tried to pull her wrists free but only succeeded in wiggling her upper half. With her shoulders back, her chest was pushed out and Rhett seemed very pleased at the sight of her wriggling form, her breasts jiggling lightly. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb against her lips teasingly before moving to run his fingers over her nipples.

She was helpless, but in the best way possible. She liked–no, loved–being at his mercy, completely reliant on him to provide for her pleasure. It was strange, she had never given anyone that kind of power over her in bed, not even long-term lovers, she just didn’t trust them. But for some baffling reason, she was not only comfortable but eager to give Rhett, a man she had met only hours earlier, that power.

“Perfect.” Rhett said, so quietly it was almost as if it was to himself, as he gazed down at her and continued to drag his fingernails over her nipples until they were stiff with arousal. “God, you look so fucking perfect all trussed up in my lasso.” Embarrassed by his praise, she averted her eyes as she felt her cheeks heating up but he simply pulled her chin to look back at him. “Don’t hide from me, girl. You need to know just how perfect you are.”

She had no reply, stunned speechless, only able to respond by surging upwards as much as she could to kiss him passionately. He immediately reciprocated the urgency in her kiss, his tongue parting her lips before delving deeper into her mouth. He was laying above her, hands on either side of her head supporting his weight as he wedged his knee between her thighs, pressing directly against her core. Slowly, she began grinding against it, her only way to bring even a fraction of relief to her aching cunt with her hands tied behind her back. She rocked against his knee several times before Rhett realized just what she was doing, pulling back to watch but leaving his knee in place. She wiggled and whined at the loss of his mouth against hers, helpless to do anything but continue humping his knee like a bitch in heat.

“Darlin’, you look so hot trying to ride my thigh like it’s a bull.” he growled as his blue eyes fixed on her intently.

“I’m not an expert like you, I think I might need some pointers…” she said, batting her eyelashes at him sweetly as she continued to desperately buck her hips, feeling the rough denim of his jeans even through the thin fabric of her panties.

“I think you're right, and I do believe I promised you some cowgirl lessons.” he replied smugly.

Carefully he pulled her up with him, sitting against the headboard with his legs spread obscenely as he pulled her to straddle his thigh. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his cowboy hat, placing it upon her head as she narrowed her eyes at him with an amused curiosity.

“Can’t ride without the hat, darlin’.” he said simply and she opened her mouth to reply but was cut off when his strong hands grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto his thigh so she would moan. “Go ahead and let me see what I’m working with.”

His hands fell from her hips to lie beside him, watching her with hungry eyes as she began to ride his thigh, chasing enough friction against her core to bring her relief. Strangely, she didn’t feel nervous or self-conscious anymore. She had thought that she’d feel silly dry humping Rhett’s jeans like a bitch in heat but when he looked at her the way he did, she just felt sexy. She bit her lip to contain her moans as she shifted her hips back and forth, up and down, and everything in between. Her head fell back slightly but she pulled back up just in time so as not to drop his hat.

“How am I doing? Passing for a cowgirl?” she asked after a minute of dragging herself against his thigh over and over again.

“You’re a natural, sweetheart.” he said, gazing up at her reverently. “Only thing I can teach you is to use your thighs too, not just your hips.”

“Like this?” she asked, continuing her movements but clenching her thighs down against his to keep herself steady.

“Perfect…” Rhett replied, leaning forwards to press sloppy kisses on her breasts as she rode, his large hands warming her skin as they returned to her hips and then traveled up her sides to assist in his assault on her breasts.

“Fuck, Rhett…” she moaned, struggling to keep her rhythm as she got ever closer to her climax, control of her body slipping away as her stamina ran out but her need increased.

Evidently, Rhett noticed her beginning to struggle, dragging his hands back down from her breasts to grab her hips and guide her movements, taking over when she was getting too close to the edge to keep it up. With his grip bruisingly hard on her hips, he helped to keep her riding through the intensely pleasurable waves of her orgasm when it hit suddenly.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you.” he assured her as she got lost in the feeling, throwing her head back with a loud cry, his hat flying off her head and onto the floor. She panted, her chest heaving as her orgasm ran its course.

“Good girl.” Rhett purred and despite having just cum, she felt a stirring in her core once again at those words, her body seemingly not satisfied with just the one soul-shattering orgasm.

She slumped forwards in exhaustion against his chest, unable to push herself back up with her hands still tied behind her back. He let her sit there for a moment to catch her breath, her head still spinning as he kept an arm around her waist to pull her against him and keep her grounded, his other hands stroking her hair comfortingly. When she had had enough time to reorient herself, he carefully laid her back down onto the bed, her bound arms trapped uselessly between her body and the bed once more.

She whined, wiggling in disappointment as he got up out of the bed and he paused to lean over and inspect her panties, now drenched with her cum. He traced just the tip of his finger against the fabric, chuckling when she lifted her hips to chase his hand as it retreated.

“Look at that, darlin’... fucking soaked. Even got a little on my pants.” He said before he shucked off his jeans, discarding them to the floor and returning to his place in between her legs. “Sweetheart, are you particularly attached to this pair of panties?”

“No…” she answered, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Good. I’ll buy you a new pair.” he said, with only that serving as a warning before he literally ripped them off her and she gasped, half in surprise and half in desire. “Well if that ain’t just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.”

“Rhett, I need you…” she moaned, feeling particularly empty as admired her cunt.

“Think you’re ready for me?” he asked and she nodded vigorously, pulling his dick out of his boxers to let her see it for the first time.

Rhett smirked as her eyes widened at the sight, well aware of how above average his dick was and reveled in people’s stunned reactions when they saw it. ‘Of course’, she thought looking at his large member, ‘Rhett not only had movie star looks but he had been blessed with a porn star cock as well’. From his position kneeling between her legs, he let his cock rest on her abdomen, showing her just how deep he would go when fully seated inside of her. It was intimidating but she felt as if she’d explode if she didn’t get it inside her soon.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked again, tapping his cock on her stomach, a bead of precum leaking from it’s head onto her overheated skin.

“Yes Rhett, please!” she whined, wiggling in her bonds desperately.

“Want me to wear a condom? I swear on my mama’s life I’m clean.” he assured her.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, Rhett, please just fuck me.” she begged impatiently.

“Shh darlin’...” he said quietly, amused at her desperation but still reaching down to stroke her hair out of her face. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. Good things come to girls who are patient, sweetheart.”

“Rhett, please let me touch you, please, please, please.” she babbled and he shushed her again.

“Alright, alright, sweetheart. Take a breath.” he said, reaching under her to untie the ropes expertly with one hand and without a minute, she was free.

Immediately, her hands went to his body, touching every inch of his bare skin that she could, surging upwards to kiss him as if his lips were the air she needed to breathe. She pulled back for air and he cupped her cheek with one hand, the other by her head holding his weight off of her.

“Ready for me, darlin’? He asked, the head of his cock resting against her entrance and she nodded vigorously. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He entered her slowly and she gasped, feeling suddenly as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. Rhett moved at a glacial pace, giving her time to adjust to the feeling of his large cock stretching her open. He groaned as he felt her walls squeeze him, grunting when he finally bottomed out in her hot, wet cunt. He stayed still, giving her a minute to get used to the feeling of being stretched so deeply, resting his forehead against hers and murmuring encouragement and praise. He wiped a tear when it fell from the corner of her watering eyes and pressed a sweet kiss onto her lips, reminding her to breathe.

“You alright sweetheart?” he asked lowly and she took a breath, beginning to feel the discomfort fade and the pleasure return.

“Yes.” she said, gazing up into his blue eyes as he smiled down at her.

He began slow, pulling out almost all the way only to push back in at an agonizingly slow pace, increasing the speed just a miniscule amount with each thrust. When he bottomed out in her again after a few thrusts, she moaned and her legs went instinctively around his hips, heels digging into his ass like she was trying to keep him from pulling out.

“Faster, Rhett, please.” she moaned and he obliged, setting a steady pace as he thrust in and out.

As he sped up, she clung to him like a lifeline in the sea, tugging on his hair and raking her nails lightly (for the most part) across his back. The wet slapping noises of their bodies meeting rose in intensity, his grunts and her moans growing louder and louder until it was all she could hear. As he pounded into her, she threw her head back and closed her eyes in ecstasy. Never before had she been fucked so good and so hard and she was surprised at just how much she was loving missionary position, reveling in the intimacy of it instead of the impersonal and quick doggie style fucks most guys went for.

She could feel herself getting closer to the edge and evidently Rhett noticed too as he slipped a hand down between their bodies and rubbed circles on her clit, sending her crashing over into her third soul-crushing toe-curling orgasm of the night. Rhett wasn’t far behind, the feeling of her clamping down on his cock as she screamed in pleasure being enough to push him over the cliff, the pace of his hips stuttering as he came hard buried deep in her cunt. He groaned as he emptied himself into her, taking a moment to breathe and memorize the feeling of her around him before he pulled out and sat back on his heels. He watched in stunned awe as his cum mixed with hers, dripping out of her hole and onto the sheets.

Satisfied with himself, he smirked when he saw her staring up at the ceiling in a dazed bliss, glassy eyes and wide smile on her face. He put on his boxers and went to the bathroom for a washcloth and a glass of water. She vaguely registered him cleaning her up, coaxing her to drink from the cup and felt chaste kisses on her wrists as he confirmed she didn’t have rope burns. She had never felt so satisfied, her mind a pleasurable fog as he put his flannel shirt on her, buttoning it up before he clicked off the lamp and settled into bed beside her.

“You still with me, darlin’?” Rhett asked, pulling the sheets up to cover them both.

“Yeah… I just…” she replied, trying to force her brain to form coherent sentences instead of reveling in the post-orgasmic haze.

“Never been fucked like that by a city boy?” he asked with a grin that revealed he already knew the answer and she laughed as she turned her head to look at him, thoughts finally clearing up.

“Three orgasms in one night? No, no one’s ever done that.” she replied as he reached across her to grab her waist and hold her closer, her hand going to trail mindless patterns on his arm as she spoke. “Usually I’m lucky if I can get one that I don’t have to do myself.”

“That’s a damn crime.” Rhett said. “You deserve to be getting them morning, noon, and night… and a few in-between for good measure.”

“I gotta say you’re pretty good at pillow talk.” she replied.

“It ain’t just talk, sweetheart. You should be waking up with a mouth on your cunt every morning.” he said and she laughed, unsure if he was joking or not.

“I’ve always wanted to wake up like that.” she mused.

“Then that’s how I’ll get you up tomorrow morning.” Rhett replied and when she gazed into his blue eyes and that devilish grin, she knew he wasn’t kidding, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine.

“Careful cowboy, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” she said with a smile as she curled closer into his arms with her head on his chest, slowly letting sleep overtake her as she listened to his steady heartbeat. She was so exhausted that she wasn’t sure if she imagined him pressing a soft kiss to the top of her forehead just before she fell asleep.

She thought it was a dream at first, the feeling of a tongue lapping at her folds, a nose bumping against her clit. It felt heavenly, like she was an angel floating among the clouds, with only two strong arms anchored around her thighs to ground her and keep her tethered to reality. She sighed out a breathy little half-moan and heard a deep chuckle from the mouth at her core, the vibrations against her wet cunt only intensifying the sensations before the mouth retreated from her entirely.

“Ah, there’s my pretty little city girl wakin’ up for me.” A deep voice rasped and she opened her eyelids, still heavy with sleep, to find Rhett grinning up at her like a devil between her legs, the lower half of his face glinting with her slick.

“Rhett?” she asked sleepily. “What are you doing?”

“I promised you I’d wake you with my mouth on your cunt…” he replied. “And I always keep my promises.” He winked before licking a strip on her clit that made her throw her head back and moan.

Surprised that he was not only willing, but eager, to eat her out she moaned for him to continue. He obliged obediently, sucking at her clit as she begged for him not to stop, his strong arms anchored around her thighs to keep her wide open for him. With one hand tugging on his hair and the other gripping the sheets hard, she orgasmed, chanting his name like a prayer as she came on his face. Rhett dutifully rode her through the waves of her orgasm, smiling against her cunt as he was pleased with her pleasure. He licked one last stroke over her folds as she panted in the wake of her orgasm.

He climbed up her body to give her a hungry kiss, the taste of her still on his lips making her head spin before he pulled back.

“I think I just proved I was telling the truth when I said I’m real good at everything I do.” he said

“Are you always this humble?” she laughed.

“Modesty is overrated, sweetheart.” he replied, smiling before he kissed her once more, his fingers swiftly unbuttoning her flannel to give himself better access to her breasts. “My shirt looks better on you than it does on me… but I think it’d look even better on the floor.”

She giggled against his lips as he pulled it off of her, tossing it onto the floor as he continued to play with her breasts. His phone buzzed on the nightstand and he groaned as he rolled off her to check it.

“Fucking Perry…” he muttered and she laughed, remembering he had told her Perry was his older brother. “One sec darlin’.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, taking the time to ogle at his naked torso in the daylight. His bruise was getting worse and she was noticing more in other spots that she hadn’t seen before in the low lamp light. His bull rider tattoo on his right pec looked even better now that she could make out all the little details. She had marked him up with some hickies, no doubt in her mind that she looked much the same. Realizing she had to use the bathroom, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge, pausing to look back at Rhett when he asked where she was going.

“To the bathroom and then maybe a shower, that alright with you cowboy?” she asked sarcastically and he shook his head and smiled.

She went to stand up but her legs were too wobbly and she began to fall, Rhett lunging forwards to catch her, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her back up onto the bed, now sitting right behind her. He laughed and she could feel his chest rumbling against her back, clearly proud of himself for contributing to her current state.

“Not funny, Rhett.” she scolded, shaking her head as she was unable to stop herself from smiling.

“You seem to very clumsy sweetheart, that’s twice now I’ve caught you while you’re falling.” he joked. “Maybe I make you a little weak at the knees, huh?”

“Asshole.” she laughed, shoving him away before he swept her off her feet and began walking her to the bathroom, her arms quickly flying around his neck.

He carried her to the bathroom, depositing her on the toilet before stepping to the sink to get a drink. After she finished her business, she stuck her head out the door and batted her eyelashes at him.

“Wanna join me in the shower, cowboy?” she asked coyly and he smirked as she crooked a finger towards him.

“I believe I’m obliged to, someone needs to keep you from slipping and falling again on your shaky little legs.” he joked as he walked to the shower and turned it on.

She should have known that having just an innocent shower was impossible with Rhett Abbott. What started as him washing her back quickly turned sexual when his hands wandered down to her ass and she found herself yet again being railed within an inch of her life by him. Afterwards, she shooed him off so she could wash her hair without him trying to seduce her again and once he ensured that she could stand on her own with a cheeky little smile, he hopped out to get dressed while she finished her shower. When she walked out of the bathroom covered only by a towel, Rhett tried to steal her it to make her laugh before they began making out once more.

“I wish I could just spend all day between your legs.” he groaned, trying to pull himself away from her so he didn’t do just that. “I could show you all the different uses for my lasso that are way better than roping cattle.”

“Tempting offer but I think my brother would break down the door thinking I was in trouble if I didn't come out.” she said with a laugh as she patted his chest and playfully pushed him away. “Speaking of which, you’d better get out of here before he comes to pick me up.”

She quickly got dressed, spying him slipping her ripped panties from the previous night into his back pocket with a cheeky smile out of the corner of her eye.

“Excuse me sir, are you stealing my panties?” she asked with a laugh.

“Well ma’am, I have to know what size and brand to get you for a replacement.” he replied smugly. “That’s all it is.”

“Oh, that’s all is it?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she pulled him against her by his belt. “It wouldn’t be because you want a souvenir of your conquest? Because I don’t think it’s very fair that you get one and I don’t.”

“Well, I could give you my boxers but going commando for a day of ranch work might be a little painful.” he said and she shook her head. “So, how about this as a souvenir?” Rhett asked as he placed his hat on her head.

“So if cowboy law says that a girl taking a cowboy’s hat and putting it on her head means she’s going home with him, what does a cowboy taking off his hat and putting it on her head mean?” she asked and he smirked.

“You’ll have to find out by going out with me again tonight.” he replied.

“Hmm.” she said, pretending to think about his offer. “I guess I might be free tonight for some more lessons. Besides, I told you last night that I wanted to get my mouth on your cock and I still haven't so I have some promises to keep too…”

“Damn it woman, you’re really gonna make it real hard for me to leave aren't you?” he asked and she laughed.

“I’m certainly making something hard.” she said with a smirk as she trailed a hand down to palm his hardening bulge before stepping away to open the door in feigned innocence. “See you tonight, cowboy.”

“Can I get your number before I go, darlin’?” he asked as he stepped out the door and a sly smile grew on her face.

“Check your shirt pocket.” she said with a smirk and a wink before closing the door, leaving him dumbfounded on her doorstep when he reached into the pocket of his flannel and pulled out a slip of paper with her number on it, knowing that he’d truly met his match.

Looking through the peephole, she watched him walk towards his truck, a slight spring in his step. She could hear him whistling even through the door and down the hall and she laughed when she realized that it was the same song that had been playing when he fingered her in the cab of his truck, the same one he had been humming when he had been tying her up.

Peering out the curtains of the window, she watched him drive away, her brother’s truck passing Rhett’s exiting one as he entered the parking lot and she could swear that she saw her brother staring Rhett down through the windshield. Quickly, she got dressed and ready to go before heading down to the parking lot, deciding to leave Rhett’s hat on her head to mess with her brother. Sam was checking his phone when she hopped in the front seat, Jenna and the kids in the back seat.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully and he nodded as he glanced over at her, returning his eyes to the wheel before they shot open in surprise and he had to do a double take.

“Whose hat is that?” he asked sternly. “That had better not be Rhett Abbott’s.”

“In an attempt to stop you from having a heart attack, I’m choosing not to answer that question.” she replied, barely able to hide her smug smirk at her brother’s panic.

“Good for you, girl!” Jenna cried, leaning forwards from the backseat between her children’s car seats to pat her sister-in-law on the shoulder. “Domesticate that wild cowboy.”

“No!” Sam said quickly, turning to look at his wife in stunned disbelief. “There will be no ‘domesticating’ any cowboys, especially not Rhett Abbott.”

“We’ll talk later…” Jenna mouthed to Y/N with a wink as she sat back in her seat.

Sam sighed grumpily, his face contorting into a frown as he shifted gears and pulled the truck out of the parking lot and down the road towards their ranch.

“Auntie Y/N, can I be the flower girl at the wedding?” Sarah asked suddenly from the back seat and Sam just about jumped out of his skin.

“WHAT?” he panickedly sputtered, Jesse laughing at his dad’s reaction. “Sarah Ann Y/L/N, what are you talking about?”

“Wearing someone else’s hat means that you like like them.” Sarah replied, cheerfully. “Chrissy and the older girls told me that her big sister was wearing a guy’s hat and the next week they got married!”

“If there’s a wedding, do I have to wear my sunday clothes?” Jesse whined. “I hate them, they’re so itchy!”

“No one is wearing sunday clothes because no one is getting married!” Sam insisted, his wife and sister struggling not to laugh at how virulently against even the suggestion of his little sister marrying the so-called “manwhore of Wabang”.

Y/N was so amused that she didn’t even try to reassure her brother that she was not going to be getting married after one date, but she also didn’t mention her second date with Rhett later that evening, deciding to give his heart a rest for a while as she thought about what cowgirl lessons Rhett might teach her that night.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #outer range #outer range fic #lewis pullman #lewis pullman said manwhore rights

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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Pink Scarf - PART 16 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Rough SEXXX. Restraints. ANGST. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Woo, boy, y'all. Get yourselves ready, cuz the snowball is rollin' and the shit storm is comin'. This part is a little bit of everything--a little sweet, a little salty, a little smutty. It's what y'all deserve!

For the flashback, I had E's 1960 It Feels So Right playing in my head on repeat, so if you are one who likes music to set the mood, then you might give it a listen before/during/after you read that part!

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there!)

Graceland, Christmas 1960

The mansion is finally quiet, or at least you’ve managed to find a quiet part of it in the midst of all the holiday revelry. Elvis loves Christmas, and this is his first one home in two years. And the first one without Gladys.

You had thought that maybe his grief would make the holiday a more solemn affair, but he’s gone in the opposite direction. It’s as though his loss has fueled him to make Christmas as joyful as humanly possible. Even though he’s been away filming for most of the month, he still directed the mansion should be decked out in all the Christmas finery for his return. And so it is.

You wish you were more in the spirit to enjoy it. Usually, you would be—Christmas is one of your favorite times of the year—but this year it sits heavy for you. Heavy because if all had gone well, you’d be sharing it with your newborn baby.

The thought brings you to tears again.

You’ve been hiding your grief as much as possible, sliding on a quaint smile, singing carols, and making cookies with the rest of them, but in these solitary moments, you grieve. You cannot help it. You know it’s futile and silly. How can you grieve someone who barely even existed, someone who was never born? And yet, here you are, alone, sitting in a quiet corner of the house at the piano, a couple of glasses too many of champagne in, being sad over what could have been.

So you begin to play. You know practically every carol and hymn by heart, so you just close your eyes and let the music take you away. It doesn’t erase your grief, but it does help you let it out in some way. You barely notice the tears rolling down your cheeks as you play Away In A Manger and What Child Is This?. You let the dramatic chords of O Holy Night linger in the air at the push of the pedals.

And after a bit of playing, that image of a baby in your arms feels fuzzy and faraway. Or maybe that’s the champagne. Maybe it’s both.

The air shifts. You notice it but play on anyway. You’re not sure how, but you are able to sense him, his presence, his essence, as it pushes in around you. But he remains quiet, and your eyes remain closed as your hands continue to fly over the keys.

Elvis does not interrupt, he only watches. You’re not sure why. You feel as though he barely speaks to you anymore. Yes, he is away and busy and all the usual excuses. But he used to seek you out when he returned. He’d bring you silly little trinkets and sing to you and tell you stupid, off-color jokes.

Now, since that horrible day in March, it’s as though an invisible wall has come between you two, and you don’t understand why. It’s nothing overt—he treats you kindly in the group and doesn’t outwardly ignore you. But something significant has changed, you swear it. Perhaps it is your ultimate failure as a woman that has turned him away. Or maybe with the explosion of his stardom since returning from Germany, he just doesn’t have time for you anymore. Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all; maybe he’s just a different man now.

Your tears of grief now include the loss of him, too. Losing your friend is heartbreaking in its own right, much less coupled with the loss of your child, of your fertility. It doesn’t help that Jack has been gone with Elvis on his travels and feels distant, too. You’d initially thought the space would be good for you two, but instead you just feel achingly lonely.

God, you wish you’d never been pregnant at all, as all it seemed to bring you is heartache.

You stop playing and open your eyes. The room is dim, lit only by one of the many Christmas trees in the house, but when you turn towards the door, Elvis is still there, his blue eyes shining with emotion as he leans in the doorway. The man looks ready to weep, which takes you by surprise, as he’s only shown enthusiasm and excitement since being home. You recognize the look though: it’s grief and melancholy, similar to your own.

Then Elvis looks at you unabashedly for a moment, almost like he is really, truly seeing you for the first time in months. The air sits heavy and silent. You don’t bother wiping the tears off your cheeks, though your heart races a bit. Must be the champagne, you think. It certainly isn’t the way he is looking at you now, how you are being laid bare and vulnerable by his intense gaze.

Something builds between you, though you are not exactly sure what, and he suddenly straightens and crosses the room to you. He towers over you now at the end of the piano bench and an overwhelming need to be near him comes over you. It’s as though you are both magnetized to each other, so when he holds out his hand, you cannot help but take it. The warmth of his hand surrounds yours as he pulls you up and into his waiting arms.

You fold into him, your arms tucked into your chest and your head buried into his collarbone as he wraps his arms around you. His spicy, distinct scent surrounds you and his warmth engulfs you and you cannot help the sob that escapes you at the comfort of it.

Elvis holds you close and lets you cry, and you feel his chest shudder and his breath hitch as though he is as emotional as you are. His mother, you think; he’s been hiding his grief as you’ve been hiding yours. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your temple as they run down his face and onto yours, and this prompts you to unfold your arms and wrap them around his torso, comforting him as he is comforting you.

He sways you, moving to the unheard music you assume is always playing in his mind, and pressed against him like this, you can feel the quick and steady beat of his heart pounding in his chest. You don’t remember the last time you were this close to him. He feels bigger, broader than the boy who went to Germany, but is no less Elvis. His sensitive spirit is the same after all.

You are not sure how long you sway there, crying in each other’s arms at your respective losses. But you know it’s more than just that. You know because as your tears start to ebb and you move back the slightest bit, he grabs your hand and pulls you in close, unwilling to part with you. He dances with you now, slowly pulling you back into his silent rhythm.

And you let him. You let his hand clasp yours and he draws it over his heart, holding it there. His heart beats quicker, you think. It’s too intimate now, the way his warm, damp cheek presses to yours, the saltiness of your tears mixing and binding your grief together. The air shifts again, still heavy and thick, but with a million unsaid words hanging there in the silence.

Your heart skips, flutters, and your breath catches. You’re not exactly sure what is happening. But you still let him hold you and sway you in slow circles. His hand splays hot on your lower back, burning through you, setting your body aflame in a way you don’t understand.

But you are a few glasses in and on a roller coaster of emotion and right now the feel of his strong, lean body pressed against yours makes you feel alive in a certain kind of way. You’ve been lonely and you’ve missed him more than you thought. It’s almost as if this is a silent plea for forgiveness from him.

Yes, that’s all it is.

You feel hyperaware of him and his closeness, so when Elvis nuzzles his head against the side of yours, you feel breathless. Your mouth pops open with a puff which, considering his proximity, he must feel, but he does not stop, and you cannot help the way you return the gesture in kind.

His breath is warm in your ear, and you can feel the softness of his lips brush against it, sending a decidedly inappropriate cascade of shivers dancing through you.

Oh, god.

Involuntarily, your hand contracts in his, your nails scraping lightly at his button-down shirt. Elvis presses your palm down onto his heart in response. You feel out of control, completely at his mercy, knowing this is too much, too close, too intimate but you can’t seem to stop, intoxicated by his strength, his affection, his essence.

Elvis’ still-damp cheek lingers against your own, and he presses his forehead gently to yours with a soft sigh. Then he pulls back slowly, just far enough to look at you, and you feel knocked over by his pure beauty. Honestly, you feel absolutely heady as you threaten to tip over and lose yourself in those churning, deep blue eyes of his. And, boy, they are churning, with things you can’t quite grasp. You watch as they search your face, his impossibly long lashes punctuating their every slow move. Holding your breath, your heart speeds up ever faster, and you wonder what it is he seeks in you.

Your sadness and grief feel far away now as he plunders your soul, his gaze so alluring that you cannot even begin to piece through what is going on in any sort of logical way. You don’t understand any of it. All you know is you want more, and that feels forbidden in every way.

As if reading your thoughts somehow, his lips part. His eyes flutter down your face and land at your mouth. A shock runs through you as you think Elvis just might kiss you, and that terrifies you, not just because it would be crossing a line but because in this moment you want him to.

You want to feel his lips soft and sweet against you, then crushing into you. You want his body passionately pressed into yours as you cling to each other in the sparkling light of the Christmas tree. You want his large hands roaming your curves. You want to feel the strands of his dark hair between your fingers as you tug him closer. You want him to make you forget everything but the taste and feel of him.

These wants flash through you in an instant, shocking your system because he is so close that you almost can taste him and panic shoots through you. Never have you let your thoughts truly drift to that place with him, and opening that door feels very dangerous. Suddenly, with a wave of absolute certainty, an intuition you cannot explain at all exclaims that Elvis wants you more than anything in this world.

And that makes you gasp and pull away.

That cannot possibly be true. Nothing about the way he’s acted this past year supports that but something inside you screams that it’s real. It makes no sense. None of it makes any sense.

Elvis blinks and shakes his head as though snapping himself out of a daze. His hand falls from your waist, the spell broken. The soulful look in his eyes flashes with what almost seems like hurt, then apology, then regret. Without a single word, he turns and leaves.

Your heart plummets for reasons you don’t understand.

You must be confused. You are drunk. You are emotional. You couldn’t possibly have read the situation correctly. And yet the feelings awakened in your body surprise you and the look in his eyes haunts you as you sink back onto the piano bench, left alone in the silence.

Your eyes pop open at the memory. You had been very drunk that night and hadn’t remembered that moment until this very minute, yet another hidden facet of your long and suddenly complex relationship with your friend making itself known. Elvis had continued to keep his distance from you after that Christmas and had never even alluded to such an intimate moment happening, so you’d had no reason to think anything strange had happened at all. In hindsight, it seems awfully significant and feels like yet another thing he’s keeping from you.

Running it through your mind again, you swear he’d almost kissed you that night or at least had wanted to, which is shocking to you because 1960 was a long time ago. Still more shocking was that certainty you’d had about him wanting you more than anything, which couldn’t possibly be true.

Could it?

You shake off the thought. Emotions were high for both of you that night, and he obviously had thought better of it, but still…that prickle at the back of your mind keeps gnawing at you, those pieces of the puzzle attempting to slot into place. Maybe if you weren’t so damn tired and emotionally spent, you’d be able to figure out what your mind is trying to tell you. Maybe if your body wasn’t still aching with the memory of losing your child and almost dying, you’d be able to think clearly.

And your conversation with Sandy also sits uneasily in your mind. Running away ain’t gonna solve anything, her voice echoes in your head. You wish you had the strength she hoped you did, the strength to tell Jack to fuck off, to tell Elvis how you really feel, but it all feels so overwhelmingly insurmountable that you can barely even entertain the thought.

Heart pounding and wheels turning, you know sleep is out of the question and sit up in the bed. You get up and busy yourself instead. You feel as though you are racing the clock. It doesn’t take long to pack your bag, and while you are not frantic, you are determined. Mentally, you are ready to go. You have to go.

Unfortunately, things are not working out as you hoped they would. When the concierge calls you back with your fight arrangements, he informs you that there are no flights out of Vegas until 7:30am tomorrow morning. It being a Sunday night and with such short notice, there were no seats headed back east to be had. You thank him and reply that of course the morning flight would be acceptable before you set the receiver back on the hook and let out an aggravated scream.

You need out now. You are half inclined to rent a car and drive back to Memphis, but you know that is a terrible idea for a variety of reasons, namely being that you had no idea how to get to Memphis from here and being alone on the road for so long with no preparation sounded dangerous.

Fine, you think, I can make it through the night. I should tell Elvis in person anyway.

The thought makes your stomach churn because you know he will not be happy with this development. You’d rather not see the look on his face, but you also know it is the right thing to do. You just need to steel yourself to see your decision through and not be swayed by his charms.

Easier said than done.

And it doesn’t help that you are running on fumes and adrenaline. With everything that happened last night, the only sleep you’ve had was on the roof and that was short-lived and filled with nightmares. You took a shower after getting back to the room, but your mind is spinning too much to sleep, plagued with returning memories and creeping doubt.

You decide to get ready for the show as originally planned. It’ll be easier to gain access to Elvis between shows to talk if you do so. You dress accordingly, carefully putting on your makeup and doing your hair up nicely to give yourself as much confidence as possible. After repacking your toiletries, you grab your clutch and see the silky pink scarf folded neatly inside.

It takes only a moment for you to decide to put it around your neck. It’ll guarantee that Elvis will make time to see you, and you try not to shiver at the fact that the last time you wore this scarf, it led to a decidedly different outcome than it will tonight. The thought sends both warmth to your core and dread into your heart. You don’t want to leave him.

But I have to.

You shift your thoughts instead to Red, wondering and fearing whatever he might have planned. You don’t know if he is planning to sit on the information he gleaned from your leaving Elvis’ suite this morning, or if he is looking to cause mayhem immediately, though considering Jack has not burst in angrily, you don’t think anything has been said yet.

Either way, you have to warn E, and you have to get the hell out before the shit hits the fan.

The afternoon quickly turns to evening, and you pump yourself up on the way downstairs, despite the nausea in your stomach, the exhaustion in your body, and the ache in your heart. Now that you are somewhat a part of the show, it is easy to get backstage, and while you’re not sure how you are going to be able to wait the few hours the show will take, you continually remind yourself that this is what you must do. You have no choice.

But I do, I do have a choice, a pesky little voice chimes in. Stay.

Shut up.

By the time Elvis makes his way backstage, you feel like you’re about to jump out of your skin. The way his bright eyes light up when he sees you and then how they flash heat when he sees the pink silk knotted around your neck fills you with both desire and anxiety. Being near him weakens your resolve because his charismatic energy rolls over you even from this distance, and he just looks so damn good in that white suit of his, but you knew that this would test you. You force what you hope is a normal a smile, but you see a look of confusion flash over his pretty face before his usual pre-show nerves take over. But he does not come over to you, for which you are grateful.

The show begins with the usual fanfare, and you are surprised that even with everything going on in your head (or perhaps because of it), you still get swept up in the music, still sing the parts quietly that you have so diligently practiced. Regret hits you from another angle, one you did not anticipate. In leaving Vegas, you’ll also be leaving this—the show, the music.

Doubt creeps in in earnest throughout the show, putting your nerves even more on edge. You don’t really want to leave this opportunity, but the problem is you don’t think you have the fortitude to stay and to be able to resist Elvis.

The curtain closes and Elvis is surrounded, soaked with sweat, riding that post-show high that makes him nearly glow from the inside out. He wipes his face with the towel someone has draped over him, and you watch as he pulls Jerry aside with a glint in his eye, presumably to arrange your meet with him. But Jerry leans back and whispers something into E’s ear and that handsome face clouds with dark emotion. Then Elvis finds you past the crowd and his eyes lock on and you know. You know he knows by the hurt and angry look in his piercing blue eyes.

Sandy.

Goddammit.

As Elvis stalks over to you, pushing through musicians and instruments, it’s evident that Sandy has betrayed you. She told Jerry. And whether she meant for him to tell Elvis, you do not know, but your heart speeds up as Elvis crosses the backstage area in long, quick strides, with a wounded and feral look in his eyes that frightens you. It is not at all the same as the jealousy from the night prior; no, this is damage done on another scale.

You cannot help but back up as he approaches, nearly falling back over your chair, but he is on you in an instant, grabbing your arm firmly with one hand and your waist with the other, seemingly uncaring of the confused looks of his entourage that has been left behind so uncharacteristically. Luckily, Jack is nowhere to been seen, but you catch Red’s smirk before Elvis manhandles you into the hallway.

He doesn’t speak, not yet, though you see his brewing temper play over his face. Your heart drops because it is so obvious how you’ve truly hurt him, and he practically carries you back to the dressing room so quickly that you barely have time to register what that means. Once inside, he releases you and you tumble forward before he slams the door with too much force and flicks the lock.

As you straighten, you attempt to brace yourself for what you think you know is coming. Your nerves are on pins and needles, and you can’t help the lightheaded feeling that comes over you as you watch him fume. His chest heaves with both the exertion from his performance and his building fury, which makes for a dangerous combination.

You realize too late that perhaps you didn’t think this through.

“Is it true?” Elvis growls, rounding on you. “Are you trying to leave?” The pain is palpable in his stormy eyes and is layered with indignation.

The words catch in your throat. You finally force yourself to nod, attempting to find your voice in the meantime.

“What the fuck, y/n? What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” his voice raises, as he paces the room like a caged animal. His eyes are icy now, glaring at you in such a way that you feel it to your toes. His white suit clings to him with the moisture of his sweat, which gleams off his tan skin, distracting you.

You finally find your voice. “I’m leaving, Elvis. For my sake and for yours,” you breathe out. Your heart threatens to shatter at the words.

“The fuck you are,” he flips back at you.

“Excuse me?” you huff.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, honey,” he points at you sternly.

“That’s not up to you,” you sputter, blinking rapidly.

“The hell it ain’t,” he glares.

Elvis’ eyes flash and he advances towards you. Your heart thunders in your ears and you counter backwards until he has your back against the wall. He grabs your chin with his hand, his rings cutting into you.

“I thought I fucked some sense into you last night, but it seems I fucked it out of you instead,” he purrs dark and low, but it is laced with threat.

You hold back a groan at his words. The sound of his voice and the look on his gorgeous face as he rakes his eyes over you sends both dread and heat through you all at once. You should have known he’d put up a fight. This is why you’d wanted to leave right away. Resisting him feels insane and futile.

“E, Red knows. He caught me coming out of your room this morning, and I just know he’s gonna make trouble,” you ramble out, trying to skirt around him. He boxes you in with his arms.

“Fuck Red. I’ll take care of him,” Elvis spits, eyes flashing but barely giving it a second thought because his sole focus is you. Then you see him eyeing his scarf around your neck. Wordlessly, slowly, he unties it, his calloused fingers brushing the skin of your neck and making you shiver. “Now tell me why you’re really leavin’, honey,” he commands, but the lilt in pitch betrays his sensitivity to those who know him well enough. And you do.

Oh, god, the way his smokey eyes bore into you, intoxicate you, has you frozen and your mouth dry. All the words you prepared to say are gone in an instant. You can’t tell him everything (you can’t), but his hurt and his need to dominate you because of it drives his actions, and you know he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

“Hmm,” he shakes his head, a darkness overcoming him. “Guess I gotta find another way to get it out of you. Give me your hands,” he orders. You are caught in his gaze and feel powerless to deny him. Begrudgingly, you obey, holding out your hands.

You watch as he ties one end of the silky scarf to your left wrist. It’s tight, but not uncomfortable. Your brow furrows in confusion as he pulls your arms up, and it is then that you notice the bar, which must be used as a clothing rack, attached to the wall above your head.

Your eyes widen and your heart thunders in your chest. “Elvis, what’re you doing?” you squeak out as he wraps the scarf over the bar and attaches it tightly to your other wrist. Your arms are loose and your feet remain planted on the floor, as the bar is not that high up, but you are effectively trapped.

“Well, honey, you keep tryin’ to run away from me and I need answers,” he glowers, amusement playing under his anger.

“Goddammit, this isn’t funny, let me go!” you say shrilly, yanking your arms but only succeeding in making the scarf tighter around your wrists.

“No, you’re right, it ain’t funny at all. Were you just gonna steal away in the dead of night without talkin’ to me?” he asks, the hurt back in his voice.

“No, I…no, that’s not what I wanted…” But it is almost what you did, and he seems to know it.

His eyes flash with realization at your unspoken words, then narrow as he moves closer. You look away, shamed. He grabs your chin again, his rings cold against your skin, and forces you to look at him.

“You are all I’ve been able to concentrate on, ya know that? You’re all I fuckin’ think about. I want you. I want you to be with me. Be with me.” He says it like a pleading promise and a stark demand all at once.

Oh, Jesus, it makes you ache for him in every way. You can feel your resolve crumbling around you, all your reasons for leaving melting into a puddle at your feet.

“We can’t Elvis. We can’t keep doing this. I’m losing my mind,” you say but Elvis has his head buried in your neck now, his lips and tongue dragging across your skin and setting your entire body aflame. Resisting him is like resisting gravity—an impossible feat.

“Why would you do this to me, lil’ mama?” he whispers in your ear, his hand brushing away your hair so his breath tickles against you. The sensation immediately has your body at attention, like a switch has been flipped. Your nerves tingle, your nipples stand at attention with just the temptation of that raspy baritone.

Despite yourself, despite the angel on your shoulder screaming at you, once again, that this is a bad idea, your mouth pops open with a sigh. His other hand cups your cheek as his lips travel over your face, so close that those long, dark lashes brush against you in their wake. This sends another thrill of sensation through you.

It’s agonizing that you can’t touch him, which you know is exactly the point.

Elvis presses you against the wall, and his thumb is dragging slowly over your bottom lip. It takes everything you have to not disintegrate right there and then. The way he makes you feel—it’s like you have no sense of reality when around him like this. He is your drug of choice. And you keep coming back to him again and again.

“Tell me why you don’t want me,” he asks in a boyish whisper, his bedroom eyes deadly serious, filled with anger and hurt and need and lust. All for you. Only Elvis could look so entirely innocent and completely sinful all at once.

His words cut you, as you think he intended. You wish you could make him understand, but your breathing is fast, too fast. You are dizzy from the scent of him, all sweat and musk. He’s dripping with it. Your eyes roll back.

“Dammit, E, of course I want you,” you breathe, “but when we get caught, which we are seconds away from, I’m the one who’s life blows up. I’m the one who’ll have to face the consequences. It all comes back on me, and…I don’t have anything without Jack.” You can’t let yourself forget it.

The way Elvis looks at you now is fierce. He grabs both of your cheeks roughly, his hands like fire against them.

“Baby, you have me, you’ll always have me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’ll take care of you, no matter what happens.”

The sentiment hits you sideways, flooring you. He’s staring at you so intensely you feel completely gone, weak. There is nothing else but him.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathes seductively, nuzzling your nose. “Let me be your everything.”

Oh, sweet lord…

“Elvis…” His name escapes you like a hushed prayer. You are defenseless against him, your heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, stealing your breath away completely.

The temptation of what he is saying is so strong that you want to give in to him immediately. It’s almost everything you want to hear, which is the problem. You think he’ll say anything to get what he wants. You love him, but you know he’s a master at manipulation—it’s how he’s so damn good at his craft. It’s how he so effectively hypnotizes the masses. You think half the time he doesn’t even realize what’s he’s doing, but knowing him as you do, you know he is too shrewd for ignorance.

But part of you refuses to believe him, what he’s saying, even now. Part of you is still reeling from the pain and the fear of your recently uncovered memories. And the fact is, he is still hiding things from you, and you are still married to Jack.

Elvis bows his head, his soft lips now mere millimeters from yours, his hot breath mingling with the heat of your own. But he does not close the gap. He’s waiting, waiting for you to decide. He’s impatient, nearly shaking with anticipation.

You came here to end it, you did (didn’t I?), but he’s like the sun, pulling you into his orbit. Desperate, you find your voice, doing your best to be strong.

“Elvis, I am still married. You know as well as I do how complicated it is with Jack, and he’s not going to take kindly to this when he finds out. And he will. We both know he will. He’s your friend. You can’t have it both ways, and neither can I. But I can’t be near you without wanting you, so something’s gotta give. That’s why I have to go. That, and all the secrets, the lies…It’s tearing me apart inside,” you plead with him. And I know you’re keeping something from me, but those words don’t make it out of your mouth.

His brow furrows and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head. Then something significant shifts, that dark look clouding his eyes once more.

“Jack ain’t shit. Fuck him. And, baby, I’ll tear your marriage to shreds and throw it in the trash, just like that,” Elvis snarls, snapping his fingers in your face, his endless eyes burning into yours. His vehemence has you shaking, your eyes going big. “I don’t care what I have to do or who I have to pay off. I thought I told you, honey—I always get what I want, and I think I’ve made it quite fuckin’ clear who I want.”

Holy shit.

A shocked beat, your breath held in a pause before it quickens again. Elvis is choosing you over Jack. Elvis wants you to end your marriage for him (or more accurately, wants to end it for you). This means that he is much more serious about this, about you, than you thought. Your heart plummets into your stomach and warmth blossoms over your body. You are both elated and terrified by what he is asking of you. All words escape you.

“Still need a little more convincing, huh?” His lip curls into a smirk, sending a coil of desire into your belly. Pushing you up against the wall, he grinds his hips into you, your arms straining against their bonds. You know now that this is his way, his way of proving to you the truth of his words. A whimper escapes your lips, causing him to grin even more. He has you right where he wants you, which is infuriating and exhilarating.

Elvis gets close, his full lips so tantalizingly near that you can almost taste their pillowy sweetness, but he still does not kiss you, only tempts you as his breath blends with yours. As much as you want to, you do not submit, you do not close the gap, your stubbornness and lingering doubt dampening your near-consuming desire.

All your churning emotions of the past few days keep you silent. Confusion, fear, anger, shock, love—all of it only fuels your passion for him, a love so consuming it eats you alive. But you also don’t want him to have the satisfaction of you giving into him. He’s right: he does usually get what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you have to make it easy on him.

Elvis watches your reaction carefully as he yanks your dress up over your hips. Then he groans, a deep, carnal sound as he grinds into you once more, his arousal evident and the metal of his ornate belt biting against your pelvis. You bite your lip to keep from making the noises that threaten to escape you, but your breathing is starting to become even more labored. There is an element of calculated control in his flaming eyes, combined with power and need. He doesn’t let you look away.

Elvis grabs the back of one of your thighs, pulling it up to his hip, running his hand over your bare flesh from your knee up to your panties, his fingers dancing just under the elastic. You hold back the hiss that wants to escape you. God, you want to touch him, to claw at his bare chest, but the scarf holds you fast and you grip its strong silk for dear life.

When he lets go just long enough to pull the zipper of his fly, pulling out his cock, your eyes widen, then fall closed. You feel as he tugs your underwear to the side, his fingers swiping through your folds. You bite your lip at the feel of his fingers prodding at you so roughly. But with your churning emotions desperately trying to keep your desire at bay, you are not nearly wet enough to take him yet.

“Look at me,” he demands, and you do. You are powerless not to.

Reaching his hand up, he looks you right in the eye as he spits in it, then reaches down to cover his cock, lubricating it fully. You gulp. A shiver of anticipation races down your spine. Taking a long moment to gather more saliva, he spits in his hand again before snaking it between your thighs to smear your pussy with it, watching your reaction carefully. You can’t help but moan at the sensation of the warm slick.

True to his word, nothing stops him from taking what he wants as he brusquely lifts your legs around his waist and enters you with a quick, hard thrust and a deep grunt.

You gasp loudly at how Elvis fills you so completely, both with surprise and with pain of the pleasurable sort. You are so tight, too tight, and while your arousal pools, it has not yet coated your walls, making his saliva the only lubrication to ease the friction. You claw at the silk scarf, trying to push back against the wall in retreat, but he chases you, pausing for only a moment as you attempt to adjust to him. He starts rocking into you, but his thrusts are not gentle—they are powerful, claiming. You continue to hold back the noises that want to escape your mouth, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing your pleasure.

“Why ya gotta be so fuckin’ stubborn, baby? You really makin’ me take you this damn hard to remind ya just who ya belong to?” he growls seductively into your ear as he drives into you harder. Your head falls back onto the wall and your eyes flutter. This shouldn’t be so satisfying, but you can’t deny how it makes you feel, how he makes you feel. Your arousal pools around him at his words, at his audacity, and it gives you away as he slides more easily in and out of you. Then that damn lip of his dares to curl up again into a knowing smile.

His baritone rumbles in your ear as he fucks you more vigorously, each thrust punctuating his words, as if driving them deeply into your body and mind. “I’m not lettin’ you outta my sight after this little stunt of yours, honey, not for one damn minute. In fact,” he chuckles darkly, “you’re going on stage with me for the rest of my shows, starting tonight. Your debut performance.”

You can’t hold back your choked gasp at that.

“You’re all mine now.” Elvis’ hand comes up and wraps around your throat, just tight enough to let you know he means it. “Now, be a good girl and say it for me.”

Your brain fights against him—possession is not love! Sex is not love! it screams at you—and you don’t want to give him this, but you know the truth of it: you are his. You’ve been his for a while now. And you relish in it. You want so desperately for it to be more than that, but you are too weary of denying yourself of the obvious.

“I’m…y-yours,” you gasp out. He fucks it out of you.

The corner of his mouth briefly lifts in satisfaction before returning to his relentless railing of you and his ongoing, heated diatribe: “You’ll stay in my room, my bed, and we’ll fuck whenever we damn please, honey. I don’t care who fuckin’ knows. Let Jack try and come for you…see what happens,” he threatens, grunting as his thrusts become more erratic.

You don’t even recognize the moan that comes from you at that. The fact that he will take Jack head on for you sends an inexplicable rush through your system. The coil in your belly tightens rapidly now, but Elvis is too far ahead of you, too consumed with his lust and his need to claim you as his own.

“Tell me you’ll stay,” he says in your ear. It comes out more needy, breathless, pleading, than you think he intended, which tugs at your heart, telling you what you need to know, at least for now.

You have no choice, not anymore. Neither your heart nor Elvis’ will allow it.

“I’ll stay,” you whisper, finally conceding.

“There’s my girl,” he groans, then plunges in so deep and fast that the wind is knocked out of you. You both cry out as he pulses again and again, filling and coating you with his need, his teeth digging into your shoulder as he climaxes.

You both gasp for breath, him from his release, you from the shock of his words as they settle within you. After a moment of recovery, he unceremoniously pulls out of you, sets you gently back on the ground, and unties your hands. Your legs feel wobbly and your hands tingle with a burning sensation, rubbed a little raw at the wrists. Elvis kisses each wrist softly, making that unrelieved coil in your belly cinch even tighter as he wraps the scarf around your neck. You wince at the pins and needles in your arms as you shake them to regain circulation.

You wait to see what he has in store for you next, but he just looks a little jaded, uncharacteristically making no effort to alleviate your need. He turns and walks all the way back into the bathroom, and you follow silently.

You look at him questioningly in the mirror as he cleans off, that coil in your belly poised and ready, but unfed. He’s never left you unsatisfied before. But you also don’t want to push him right now. Things still feel too tenuous.

He finally acknowledges you in the mirror, looking over your mussed and flustered state and immediately gleaning the reason for your hovering. “Honey…I’ll deal with you later,” Elvis tuts in a reprimanding tone, his left eyebrow raising, his blues still chilly towards you.

He’s being petty, but you suppose you deserve that to an extent. You resist the urge to pout, instead choosing to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing against the sweaty heat of his back. You want him to forgive you, want to be in his warmth, want him to love you as you love him. But for now, you’ll accept the relief of not having to leave him.

Let me take care of you…Let me be your everything.

The memory of his words sends warmth radiating through your chest, even if he just said it to get you to stay. Even if he didn’t really mean it.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. And you are.

Elvis doesn’t move for a moment, just letting you cling to him. Then he turns, bringing you close, and he finally kisses you, his pliant lips pressing hard and fierce and wanting against yours.

“Don’t ever try to leave me like that again, baby,” he says, pulling away, looking deeply into your eyes. He is trying, you think, to be as possessive and demanding as before, but the edge of his anger has been tempered, quelled, and has turned into something more imploring. Then, with that quintessentially Elvispuppy-dog look on his face, he blinks slowly and quietly adds, “I need you,” as though just realizing it himself.

And, with that, you realize for the first time that despite all your doubts, despite what he is hiding from you, despite every obstacle that wants to pile against you, the shitstorm that is coming is still going to hit hard, but it will hit you two together.

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211 @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy @amiets2 @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch @tattywood

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva

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joheunsaram · 2 years

Text

Discord Discourse (knj)

summary- Kim Namjoon likes to spend time in a discord server... dedicated to him. With new friends and a budding crush, will he ever be able to truly be himself without revealing who he is?

word count- 2.8k

pairing- idol!Namjoon x fanfic writer!Reader

rating- PG15

genre- internet relationships, s2(maybe)lovers, angst, fluff, slightly smutty

warnings- pretty angsty, a little sexting but not actual sexting, superficial conversations portrayed as deep (lol im sorry I didn’t want to make this too long), infatuation, open ending, talks of a daddy kink

a.n.- this was not supposed to Joon’s bday drabble but it somehow ended up so lol. this is for all my fic writers out there. please don’t hate me for what the reader did... there may or may not be another part in the works oops lol

Thanks to the beautiful @raplinesmoon for helping me brainstorm, beta and fix the ending!!

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

- Kim Namjoon had a bad habit.

It wasn’t like watching too much porn, although it was somewhat like that. It wasn’t googling himself to read comments on his videos, although it was somewhat like that. It wasn’t talking to his fans incognito, although it was exactly like that.

Sitting in his room, in his boxers, he had all the lights off. His eyes were fixated on his screen, two fingers hovering over the touchpad of his laptop as he scrolled periodically. He pushed his glasses back, his face luminated by the blue light of his screen and swallowed, ignoring the way his stomach knotted and his face heated.

Kim Namjoon had a bad habit. And it all started when he joined a random discord server named after his studio. Of course he never revealed himself. To the unsuspecting largely female members, he was John, an autocorrect happenstance that granted him his anonymity. Not that anyone would believe he was him anyway. Not in these circles.

He thought it would be cute to interact with his fans when his new solo song came out, a way to practice his English. He wanted to know their reactions and their criticisms without the love. Little did he know that all he would get was affection and that affection would not only feed his dwindling ego but give him a dopamine rush that had become so addictive it had his heart racing every time a notification popped on his phone.

monolover: omgggggg did you see joon in the new mv???? I’m fucking dying! moonchild: yes I want to lick his whole body! GODDAMN HES PERFECT!!! joonsbicycle: honestly if he’s not getting every inch of his body worshipped rn whats even the point of life? moonlover: I volunteer as tribute! God the things I would let that man do to me!!!

He chuckled at the thread, lower lip caught between his teeth and looked around his dark room. The silence in the air was deafening. He liked his home. He was proud of his collection, making it look like an art museum, beautiful and untouchable. The wooden accents and the plush furniture was comforting but they felt cold.

There was no one there to worship his body. There was no one even there to kiss him. Which is why this was a bad habit. He shouldn’t be getting happy sucked into this small world of eight women who had somehow unlocked more kinks in him than should be possible. And he really shouldn’t be holding his breath when your name showed that you were typing.

It was unhealthy to be almost in love with someone who he didn’t even know. Yet when your message popped up, his heart skipped a beat and his boxers got tighter.

yn: if namjoons sitting alone rn it’s a crime!!! I would be on my knees in front of him marking those thighs fuckkk. yn: speaking of! new super smutty fic is out reblog for good skin lol I really hope he never finds my blog he would be traumatized.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Namjoon whispered as he stared into the dark abyss in front of him, imagining you crawling towards him, your lips travelling up his legs, your teeth leaving indentations between the muscles.

When he first joined the server, he had been immediately drawn to you. Perhaps it was because he had joined right after he posted about his plans for opening a gallery and the first thing he saw was your in depth analysis on an artist you admired but he had never heard of. It made him eager to post about art too and gave him the push to step away from his nerves and talk. He expected to be told that he was boring and that nobody cared. He was used to that. But the server was inviting, asking questions and letting him soliloquize about paint strokes and abstractions. They welcomed him with open arms without knowing who he was, especially you.

You asked him probing questions that made him think, re-evaluate his stances, and then you turned out to be something out of his wet dreams. The more time he spent on the server, he realized it wasn’t just a place to discuss his and his team’s music and accomplishments. It was a place where they also discussed how attractive he was. In full uncensored detail.

After only a month, he had read every single work of fiction you had created, all of them featuring him. The other members of the server were writers too, but somehow he only found your works alluring. The first thing he read was a whopping ninety thousand word story about heartbreak and love and perseverance. It had him tearing up with his character, a broken man who worked a dead end job.

He had praised it and the moment you told him it was supposed to be an anti capitalist piece, he read it all over again. This time he caught the nuances and critiques of a system he hated and was a part of — just like the Namjoon in the story. You had never met him, yet his fictional self made all the decisions he would make, felt the things he would feel, and after a really long time, he felt like he was seen. His fictional self wasn’t an idol, he wasn’t famous or beloved. He was just himself and it made his longing for a normal life seem… well, normal.

With time, he used your stories to teleport himself into worlds he wouldn’t experience, into situations he would never be in, and he felt alive. Seeing himself from your eyes made him feel incredible, invincible, even if you were practically a stranger.

So without any further ado, he clicked the link you sent and lost himself in a new world. A world where he was apparently a sex god that could make you cum six times in a row. He was hard by the time he finished the short story, and then he read it again, wanting to memorize the moves you so desired. He knew he would never meet you in real life. He had been lucky but he would never get that lucky. Yet he did it, stroking himself as he imagined how you would sound. Your female characters always whimpered when teased and moaned his name breathily. Would he ever get to hear you whimper?

As if reading his mind, you sent him a message.

yn: don’t get too turned on reading the new story. I want you to figure out the hidden meaning 🤪 john: what hidden message is in jisoo calling Namjoon daddy? yn: john we all know you love when I call Namjoon daddy in my fics lol but look deeper 👀 john: it’s only cause it seems like your characters love saying daddy. Anything you wanna confess babe? yn: ughhhhh I hate that you all know my kinks because of this!!! tell me when you see it

Namjoon read the piece again, ignoring how turned on he was to find nuances, and then he read the description of the room, a description he had skimmed over to get to the good parts. How did he miss that?

john: theyre fucking in prison?! john: WHY IS NAMJOON IN PRISON?! john: I thought you said he would be a good guy! He’s always a good guy in your fics!!! yn: don’t get all emo on me. He could be falsely imprisoned lol yn: but nah I put him in prison as an allegory. Like how life can feel like you’re caged in but you forget about that feeling if you have someone you love by your side. yn: ugh I hate explaining stuff makes me feel like a belong on r/verydeep HAHAHHA john: that’s actually fucking profound. Who knew porn could be art? 😝 yn: sex with me is always art thank you very much john: yeah I bet it is, baby. I wouldn’t mind you calling me daddy anytime.

Namjoon blinked as soon as he registered what he had sent, his heart pounding in panic. He had always had these thoughts about you. He never thought he would tell you any of them. What was fucking wrong with him?! Did he really think a few flirting comments from you gave him free reign to sext! God he was like the terrible men on Tinder, just a testosterone filled Neanderthal focused on sex. Fuck!

yn: as hot as I find out intellectual discourse I really wouldn’t sext with a stranger. you could be like twelve for all I know

Namjoon perked up at the message. You technically didn’t say you didn’t want to, just that you wouldn’t. Perhaps he stood a semblance of a chance when it came to you. Perhaps all the texting and subtle flirting made you like him too.

john: as a matter of fact I turned 28 today. so I’m definitely not twelve yn: ha you’ve been reading too many of my fics your bday really the same as Joons?

Oh… he hadn’t thought through about this piece of information. Of course you knew when your favourite celebrity’s birthday was! But hey a lot of people have birthdays at the same time.

john: virgins unite baby john: VIRGOS! I MEANT VIRGOS! yn: lmfao not helping your case john: how do I prove I’m of age yn: honestly idk yn: guess no sexting for us. rip. john: well… what if we do a voice chat? john: not that I just want to sext you! john: it’ll just be nice to hear your voice and get to know you better yn: ha I’m not going to sext you daddy 🤣 yn: but sure I like talking to you (yn calling)

Namjoon’s eyes widened at the screen, his throat dry. He hasn’t expected this easy acquiescence. He thought you would just blow him off, but after months of daily chats he should’ve anticipated that you’d be comfortable enough to chat with him. Taking a deep breath, he clicked the little green phone to pick up.

“Hello.”

“Hey! Wow, your voice is really deep. Somehow even though your name is John I expected a girl,” you giggled and it was a rush of endorphins tapped right into his veins. Your voice was nothing like he imagined. Where he thought of you to have a high pitched, slightly princess-ey tone, your real voice was lower, an alto with a rasp that made him weak. He wanted to listen to it everyday.

“So does this prove I’m not a twelve year old?” he teased, hiding his nerves with a confident bravado you preferred in the fictional Namjoon.

“Nah. But I really want to talk about this book I’m reading because it’s so funny and dumb in the best way and I could care less how old you were,” you replied. He chuckled as you launched into a rant about this romance series you were reading about a group of men who read romance to solve their romantic problems. Namjoon lost himself a little in the similarities between himself and the plot. Wasn’t he also reading romance to mold himself into a perfect man, albeit he was trying to woo the author herself, but still. However as you continued, he thought about how exceptionally stupid it was for him to even attempt to seek out something other than friendship with you.

It wasn’t as if he could just ask you out and take you on a date. He couldn’t hold your hand or kiss you under the lamplight of a rain soaked street. He only knew your first name and if your accent was any indication, you most likely didn’t live anywhere near him. Should he really try to start something if he knew for a fact that he couldn’t give you the romance that he knew you wished for?

Decision made, his nerves eased and he listened to your rants, discussing the novel he had never read. He couldn’t let his heart get involved. If you love someone, set them free, isn’t that what they said? Well he would set you free to meet the guy of your dreams. You didn’t actually like him, you had mentioned to him time and time again that the Namjoon in your stories wasn’t based of off the real one, and other than light teasing, you had made no indication that you thought his alter ego ‘John’ was up to your standards either. No matter which persona he was, he didn’t fit you, so for the sake of the only freeing friendship he had, he decided it was better not to complicate things.

At least until you said your next words.

“Want to hear about my next story? I think I’m going to write my first idol fic. Something about the loneliness of fame, of how isolating it seems,” you pondered out loud, and Namjoon hated how much he already related to the story.

“Tell me about it. Fame fucking sucks,” he commented, momentarily forgetting his disguise.

“Are you famous, John?” you asked, a teasing grin visible over the line, making Namjoon contemplate whether to come clean. At 3am, his impulsivity was at an all time high so without any forethought of consequences, he hit the camera icon.

The screen split into two, the left side showing his dark room before he clicked on his bedside lamp. The bright light blinded him momentarily, his hand automatically rubbing his eye before he sheepishly looked at the camera. He heard nothing from you but could see your icon showing you were still on the call.

“Hi… umm I guess I’m kinda famous,” he said, laughing uncomfortably. The longer the silence went on, the more his nerves clawed at him, making him flush so deeply, he wished he could turn back time.

“What… the… fuck?”

He heard you whisper before the call disconnected. Staring at the chat, he tried to overcome the sudden wave of dejection at your rejection. It was a logical response. You had said multiple times you wished he never read your works, of course you were taken aback to learn about him, about who he really was. He should give you some time to catch up.

But patience was never Namjoon’s strong suit, so he messaged almost immediately.

john: please say something

You didn’t reply for an hour even when your icon had a tiny green circle next to it, indicating that you were still there.

yn: I am really really sorry about all the fics and the rude comments. I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable and I apologize if these conversations were creepy or disturbing. Just know that you are a great source of inspiration for me and I hope you keep making amazing music for me and other fans. Thank you so much for your hard work. I will delete my blog if you like and I won’t bother you again, john. yn: I mean Namjoon. yn: really sorry again. yn: also happy birthday!

Namjoon stared at his screen cursing at himself for ruining almost a year long friendship for a moment of loneliness. You had said you made him uncomfortable but he was sure that if anyone was uncomfortable it was you. Bracing himself, he decided to answer the only way he knew how. Honestly.

john: Please don’t apologize. You have never made me uncomfortable Y/N. Please believe me. I really do enjoy your stories and talking to you. I would consider us friends if you’d have me.

As soon as he pressed enter he got a response. Only it wasn’t one he was expecting.

Your message could not be delivered. This is usually because you don't share a server with the recipient or the recipient is only accepting direct messages from friends. You can see the full list of reasons here: https://support.discord.com/hc/en-us/articles/360060145013

His hands shook as he wrote another message only to get the same message in return. After a year of friendship it seemed that he should’ve just hid his true self after all. Shutting his laptop, fell onto his back on the bed, lying to himself that he was okay and that it didn’t hurt.

Opening your blog on his phone, he was relieved to see it still up. Heart pounding in a last ditch effort, he raced to send you a message. Copy pasting his earlier words from discord, he hoped that this time they reached you.

He was ecstatic when the script under his text changed from delivered to seen, his heart soaring in the effervescence of hope. You never replied back, at least not till his eyes were scratchy from staring at the screen and his lids were heavy from sleep.

Kim Namjoon had a bad habit. But if he could salvage his friendship with you, he had no intentions of breaking it.

taglist - @awhnamjoon @alpacaseoks @raplinesmoon @codeinebelle @aislinnstanaka@miscelunaaa @moonchild1 @shydestinyyouth @itsjaneeet @piecesofapril11@yoontaethings @jeonyreads @pb-n-juju @everythingaboutfangirling @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997

Thank you for reading this fic! If you liked it, please tell me your thoughts. I appreciate your feedback!

Please reblog and check out more stories on my masterlist <3

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naromoreau · 3 months

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Hi, i was wondering if you have any advice for a first time smut writer? Especially when the writer doesn't even have experience kissing?

I've had an idea for a bonus nsfw chapter for my long term GO wip, and over the months, I have created a detailed account of what will happen with dialogue in my head. But I'm worried that only reading NSFW fics will not be enough to help write it well.

I would ask in a discord server, but may end up gifting it to a friend, and they're in all my servers 😅 Getting advice there might ruin the whole "surprise! I've written a sexy fic!" if I do end up gifting it.

Hello! Thank you for asking me! I don't have a ton of experience in giving writing advice, but one thing i can say is that if people can write murder scenes without murdering anyone, deffo u can write smut without knowing it by practice 😅♥️.

There's three things to consider in a smut scene, tho:

Feelings/mood

Arrangement of bodies (lol)

Location

Regarding the feelings, these will soak your entire scene, so it's good to identify them beforehand, to avoid the sex becoming mechanical. Focus on which feelings are the most important so they make an appearance there.

Then about the arrangement of bodies, it's good to have a very clear idea of the sex position first. I call it plot around the fuck, lmao. In this way you can have the idea of how they're moving throughout the scene.

Don't complicate yourself too much about this. Choose one thing and then how would it be to establish a coming together, a movement of bodies, then climax.

It's a good thing, too, to focus on something you find aesthetically pleasing. Something you like in the characters, because smut isn't only about very obvious sexual areas. There's always hair, mouths, throats, FEET. Discover what you're drawn to and use it.

Finally keep in mind your location and make your characters interact with it. Is it a bed, or sofa, the ground, a wall, etc etc. Note beforehand if you can as an aside, what things they can interact with and how, so you use them later. Is it hands on sheets, feet slipping on hardwood, the coolness of a wall against skin, the smell of old books bc they're in the bookshop, the catch of leather on knees if they're in a car, etc etc. Use your senses.

And well, it's a bit difficult to compress advice in a tiny answers, so if you want help or to just talk, my discord is naromoreau (i'm so very original).

I know you'll knock it outta the park when you get to it! ♥️ Wish you all the luck!!

#nonny #writing

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mechaknight-98 · 19 days

Text

Gathering CEDH edition: Once Upon Time

Author's notes: No this is not a repost. I am trying this a third time. I now have a clear understanding of What I want to do with the series. I wanted to Streamline it as an Izone/Izone's daughter group and Dreamcatcher fic. The Main characters are also a bit more refined this time around as I have figured out how they connect. I also have now consolidated a lot of the bloat the previous version had to focus on better storytelling between the characters. So sit back and Enjoy the New Version. Think of it as a Director's cut.

I entered the new Photography collective my friend Dexter asked me to join. The goal was to create a group that could help each other rise in related industries relating to Photography, film, directing, scriptwriting, producing, etc. I was unsure of the efficacy as most of us were amateurs with some experience but not much. Dexter was the most well-versed of us as he was getting cameraman jobs for several TV shows and his roommate and other member of this collective Connor was in the same boat. I was just some rando they found on social media who had an insane appetite and penitence for artistic expression in all forms I could get my hands on. so these two "extroverts" Our first meeting I learned that we were all Nexos and fans of the game Magic the Gathering. This made building a relationship that much easier as our first meeting ended up with us playing a game of Commander. Connor was a Jeskai player, and Dexter was a Temur player. Thankfully I could play anything so our games were always varied. I began to lean into Sultai a lot as it was the colors I felt were most reflective of my player mindset. it also had the highest number of my favorite creature types Ooze. (WotC if you are reading this please give me a legendary Ooze elder dragon in Sultai that becomes copies of things when attacked that would be so cool). One day after the Aespa concert we all went to Connor made a huge reveal.

Connor sat at his computer waiting for another round of historic brawl on MTGA (Magic the Gathering Arena). He was on a roll with your kinda junky “Omnath Locus of all” deck. He stepped away to grab a snack from your fridge across the hall but came clamoring, and running back when you heard the ding of a match found. It was against a person with the name Scorpion’s-love-00. He noticed the name was funny and chuckled at the beginning of the match. You did your tradition of “ggs” before the match. He focused up and eased in. She was playing a bit of a serious deck helmed by Kyodai that relied on flickering and cloning the dragon spirit numerous times so her board became almost impenetrable. The only problem she was playing against someone who thrived in unbeatable situations. For each new indestructible body she put on the field you retaliated with more interaction in the form of bouncing exile until she was tapped out and drawing empty on resources. To finish her off Connor ended with a simple draw Connor the whole deck into Thassa’s oracle. As the scene shifts to the win screen, Connor sighs a sigh of relief. The win was tough but well-earned. Connor relaxed and decided to send a friend request to Scorpion’s-Love-00. you enjoyed playing with them and thought it would be fun to play with them again. He was surprised to have the friend request not only accepted but also a message attached.

“Hey! What’s your discord?” the message read. Seeing this as Harmless He responded

“Infinite #2782” Connor responded. To his continued surprise there was another ding and a new friend request from a “Scorpio Rapper 00” He accepted and was treated to the following messages.

“wow, you kicked my butt. You must know your stuff. How long have you been playing?”

Connor smiled and responded, “I am decent, and you didn’t fare too badly yourself.”

The message that came in response read “ ;] I bet you say that to all the girls you beat.”

Connor responds “Only the nice and cute ones.”

You say the message typing and then this message you, “Aw you're so sweet. I want to take a bite out of you.”

Connor laughed and responded “Lol, Lol” and for the next few hours, he talked with Scorpion flirting and helping her with deck ideas and builds. She was adamant about sending Connor pictures through messages as when he brought up the idea of screen sharing she freaked out.

“What are you some uber famous Mega star?” he asked innocently.

Scorpion replied “Something like that. Or maybe I am disfigured and I don’t want to scare you off.”

Connor smiled at her response. She was easy to talk to and so those hours flew by. Eventually leading to Connor needing to go to sleep. So Connor explained this to Scorpion.

“Aw, but we are barely halfway through my Hinata Dawn Crown deck and I need your expertise and card knowledge.” Connor sighs and respond

“I have work early in the morning I need to go to sleep but when I am free I will shoot you some more cards and ideas," Connor said

So with this, Connor fell into a routine. He would work, go home, go to sleep, work out, and play magic in either a shop or online (Usually with Scorpion). As he does this you get to know Scorpion. She is funny, sweet, caring, and ultimately a gentle soul. She also likes K-pop which is also a plus. One of the groups she is into is Aespa right now whom Connor loves. When she asks who’s your bias and you proudly say Giselle she laughs, but she insists she is laughing at something her roommate said and not him. She still refuses to do anything showing her face but he's seen her hands after she sent a video going through a completed paper high-powered Hinata deck that she adores. Eventually, this culminates with her making a voice call out of the blue

“Hey, you’re in New York City right?” Scorpion’s pleasant voice asks

“Um yeah, why?” Connor respond hesitantly

“Well let’s meet up?” I want to see what my friend who’s helped me get better at mtg looks like.

Connor hesitates. Scorpion waits for his response until she can’t bear it

“you didn’t hang up on me did you?” Scorpion asked anxiously

“Ah no. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. Sure I am down what day and what time?” You respond quickly

“Good, How about in two weeks? At the Empire State Building?”

“Works for me.” He responds

“Great!! see you then.” Scorpion says a bit too excitedly.

As the weeks pass Connor tries to figure out a plan and an outfit to wear to meet Scorpion. As the day gets closer however your nerves lessen. Connor figures she’s going to bail as she has always not wanted to meet face to face. That is until Connor finds himself standing at the Peer waiting for her.

Connor was stressed but had chosen a killer look and had a dope plan all figured out. It’s a little chilly so he brought a windbreaker and some gloves. To ease his mind you put on some Aespa, you found their music oddly calming and familiar at this time. While you are chilling on the peer looking around when you get a call.

“Hey, it’s scorpion what do you look like? I am having trouble finding you.” Connor gives her a bare-bones description. That is specified only by the jacket you have on. Scorpion responds “Okay I think I see you.” and she hangs up. Well, here it is the moment of truth. You stand still for a few moments until you get a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and an extremely pretty young woman is staring at you expectantly.

“Scorpion?” Connor says hesitantly.

The young lady smiles and responds “ Yes I knew it was you!! but call me Aeri. Since that's my name. What about you” Connor laughs heavily, still starstruck that his mtg partner is a world-famous musician.

"Hello, earth to InFinite." Aeri laughed. Connor came out of his stupor to respond

"Connor Sun-won Kang." Connor stammers

"Wait Are you Korean?" Aeri asks

"half my mom was Welsh American...I think. I was adopted and only know what my "mom" told me about them." Connor explains

“Okay got it, and I am Aeri,” Aeri said

"I know but I am sure that's not what other people call you."

Aeri smiles as she responds. “No, but you’re not most people. Now are you?” she links his arm with hers and she says “Now let’s hurry I don’t have much time.” so begins the impromptu date with Aeri. The duo grab a bite to eat and then go through various rides and attractions on the island. As the date winds down the two find themselves in a taxi Connor looks at her still in shock. The rapper of Aespa and his bias Giselle was sitting across from you. All because he met her playing mtg.

“What?” she said “Do I have some ice cream still on my face?”

He shook his head and responded, “No you're just kinda prettier in person is all.” Aeri blushed.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she responds

“Aw, I bet you say that to all the boys you meet?”Connor teased.

Aeri laughs and responds. “Only the cute and nice ones. Lucky for you. You're both.” Connor tries to find things to talk about that aren’t magic but it does often get back to that. Aeri is hooked on the game and she picks Connor's brain for a thousand and one ideas.

“oh, I won my first commander night. The week before we flew out.” Aeri said with pride. “Guess which card you suggested cinched the game?”

he thought for a moment then responded “Aurelia’s fury”

Aeri nodded surprised. “I am impressed you do know your stuff, but I’d expect nothing less from the guy who’s been beating me up relentlessly over the past few months.”

You sigh and say “Well I have also been trying to encourage you as well. You are an excellent player and a very quick study, Plus that's how I learned from My roommate.”

Aeri smiled softly. “So when does that mean I can go against your paper deck?”

You wheezed at Aerie’s question, “Um yeah I don’t think you’re ready.” you said trying to catch your breath.” Aeri smiled.

“Why not?” She said innocently “I have some tricks up my sleeve you know.” You blink rapidly as flashes of numerous counter-spell wars and free interaction flash through your head from the games you played against Nathaniel your roommate.

“Uh yeah okay. Sure next time I see you I will bring my deck and we will play together one-on-one.” You respond slightly shell-shocked. smiles and claps

“So after the concert?” Aeri asks. Connor blinks again remembering and now cursing yourself how excited he was to be going to see Aespa. He is trying to figure a way to wiggle himself out of this until Aeri says, “What are you scared I’ll beat you?” Hearing that flips his hesitation and apprehension into bravado and completely earned confidence.

“Yeah definitely,” Connor announces sardonically. Aeri noticed the change in demeanor and smiled at him.

"there he is. My confident and passionate sparring partner." Aeri teases

After this Connor and Aeri part ways for the night. When he gets back home you stress out as you get a text from Aeri.

“Here’s the address to our hotel I look forward to beating you After the concert. ;]” You sighed and got two of your decks ready to face off against Aeri. looks like you wouldn’t be holding back.

Two days later was the concert. Connor had a great time. Aespa did fantastic as always and even though Connor wasn’t close to the stage at all he could have sworn Aeri locked eyes with him a few times but he ignored it and just focused on enjoying the music. He was elated to hear their songs especially "Hold On Tight" since it was his favorite song by the group. ( I like the more metal-sounding girls but hey to each their own) Thankfully the mix was good too.

As the concert winded down he thought for sure that Aeri locked eyes with him and winked, but again it was probably all imagination. After the concert, He made his way to the hotel. When he arrived he stayed in the lobby for a few minutes decks, and play-mat in hand. after a few more minutes there was a tap on his shoulder.

“Infinite?” An unfamiliar voice said. Connor turned to see Minejeong aka Winter.

"Winter?" Connor questioned

"Were you expecting someone else? Well sorry to disappoint. Also, call me Minjeong you are too close to us to use that name." Minjeong said

She smiled when she saw him. Connor followed her to her room. She was dressed plainly in an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweats. She grabbed him and said, “Come on before someone sees you.” Connor puts his hoodie up to obscure his face and when you get to the elevator Minjeong looks at him “Oh I see put the hoodie on and cover your face. I like it.” Connor smiled at his friend

“Don’t want any dating rumors.” Connor replies “You need to keep your image after all.” he adds

Minjeong smiled, “Ah what a gentleman, but that won’t get you mercy.” Connor laughs at Minjeong’s taunt.

"Um if you don't mind me asking where is Aeri?" Connor asks

"Oh, Aeri Unnie still needed to shower and do...What did she say deck edits." Minjeog stammers

"Oh deck edits," Connor Suggests

"Yeah, that," Minjeong confirms

"Fair" Connor nods

When Connor arrived at Aeri and Minjeong's room you were surprised to see the other members all chilling. Ningning was the first to acknowledge you “Oh is this him?” Aeri nodded. Ningning stared at you with confusion, “I thought he would be taller, but you're right h, He's super cute.” she said, in between bursts of laughter. You set your decks down and unfurl your play mat on the nearby table across from Aeri’s deck box which was littered with various stickers. Connor took out yours and Winter sighed.

“Giselle please don’t get mad and scream when he beats you,” Winter said

Aeri smiled and said “Oh I would never besides. He is the one going to lose tonight.” he held his tongue which Karina noticed. She had been watching him the whole time you had entered not saying a word.

“Is there something you want to say?” Karina asked pointedly. Connor steepled and shook his head. he cracked open his deck box and set his commander down.

“Oh, I haven’t seen this card,” Aeri said as she gently grabbed your commander. “Narset Enlightened Exile. she’s cute.” Aeri said. Connor laughed as he spaced out thinking about all of the games he'd played with this deck and the trouble, Aeri was in for.

“What was that about?” Their leader Karina asked, “You spaced out”

”Oh it’s nothing.” He responds

Connor shuffles his library and hands it over to Aeri. She in turn hands him hers and he cuts it. She cuts yours. Connor gets his starting hand and wince. An OG Dual land fast mana, a free counterspell, and early plays. “Um you can go first,” Connor says to Aeri. The other members have circled her. She starts by playing a Shock land and playing Esper Sentinel. “Okay untap upkeep draw,” he says. Connor plays a scalding tarn (He had Tundra in hand) and fetches for a Volcanic island he grabs it, and plays it then taps the volcanic island for a ragavan, nimble pilferer. After that, you play Mana Crypt and Mox Opal. after all of that Aeri looks at you

“Um, what was that?” Aeri said dumbfounded.

Feeling confident you say “What never seen an og dual or a turn one mana crypt before?” Aeri shook her head

“Unnie I think you’re in trouble,” Ningning said. Connor nods. After that Aeri played another land, a sol ring, and a rhystic study.

“You like your tax effects huh?” Connor asked Aeri

Aeri nodded, “I need to keep up somehow how "Mr. I am playing cards I have never heard of before." I just thought it was going to be Ruhan and not all of this.”

Connor smiled and responded, “Well It could be worse.”

Aeri looked at him with apprehension, “How?”

“Well I didn’t open up turn one Narset,” Connor explains.

“how would that be worse,” she asks.

“You’ll see,” Connor says as she passes. He draws his card for a turn and sighs. Connor plays chrome mox pitching whirlwind of thought and a Tundra to play his commander. He swings Ragavan at Aeri. She doesn't block. Ragavan triggers and gets a red elemental blast from Aeri. he uses the treasure and it from Ragavan to destroy Rhystic study.

Aeri sees this and says“Wait what?" in Connor's mind the game is over, but Aeri thinks it’s only begun. that changes two turns later when Connor countered her commander twice and swung at her for another 15 damage. She looks at Connor with awe and silent terror. Winter is laughing hysterically. After conceding Aeri says to him, “Well that was unexpected.”

Connor laughs, "Next time I will play something a bit more your speed." He comforts Aeri in the meantime

Winter laughs jovially before saying “And you doing all that trash talk.” She looks to Connor (the only American in the room) to confirm She used the right phrase. he nods, and Winter smiles. Aeri is still surprised.

“You know your stuff.” She said. You nod at her as she tries to recover.

After that beatdown, Aeri sits next to Connor and converses with the rest of the Aespa members. They learn he is a cameraman for various events and a few indie darlings movies. They Also Learn he is adopted. He shows them some of his work and Karina especially takes interest.

“Oh I love the angles you get they are so dynamic,” Karina says intrigued Connor smile

“Thanks, Karina.” Connor say meekly

She looks at Connor with a smile and says “You’re welcome and don’t be so stressed we’re friends now.” he tries to relax at her words. As Connor shows them more stuff they warm up to him more and more. Eventually, the group looks up and it's 2 in the morning and you Connor is exhausted. He looks at his friends and says, “I gotta go to sleep but we can talk later.” They all nod. As he walks out Aeri follows him to the door. When outside she smiles at Connor

She kisses Connor's cheek and says “Thanks for giving me a great time.” he smiles and walks away.

A few days later at the Photography club Connor, Dexter, and I were a part of he told us what he did over the weekend. I believed every word while Dexter was more suspicious.

"So you want me to believe you just met one of your biggest idol crushes? who also plays MTG," Dexter questioned. I groaned

"Dex that is literally what he just said," I respond

"I know man but that's crazy that you just befriended Aespa like that," Dexter replied still skeptical. I look at him confused and ask

"Would you have rather Scorpion be a serial killer that's zodiac-themed? Or worse a Yandere who would steal our boy, and we have to fight to save,"

"Ugh Hiro you and your imagination need to calm down," Connor replied.

I laughed before saying, Come on dude. We are just having fun,"

Connor and Dexter roll their eyes, as we head to a Karaoke house at the request of Dexter at the end of our meeting. While there Connor gets a face time Call from Giselle.

"Hey Can you come to Korea for a few days," she asks

#kpop fanfic #edh #mtg commander #aespa giselle #aespa kpop #fanfic

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sunshine-on-marz · 2 years

Note

toad please help dream is so beautiful i can't get him out of my head

can you pls pls pls write something friends to lovers with dream? like in the sickly sweet pre-dating phase? late night discord calls and face reveals type beat?

im kicking my feet and giggling rn

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it A MILLION MORE because these anons get me! This is such a cute prompt and I feel the same wayyyyy

Background-

He is so so sweet to you. Like. Uncharacteristically sweet. Sends you good morning and good night texts. Hugs you every time he sees you. Sap and George tease him about it constantly. He is smitten, like giggling every time you talk to him, smitten.

Realizing his crush-

Sap says something like “yall need to just date already” and suddenly everything clicks. He just goes “Holy shit I want to date them” and George and Sap loose there mind “YOU DIDN’T REALIZE THAT???” “NO”

Post-realization-

He takes like 3 months to ask you out. He constantly talks about you and eventually George tells him “if you don’t tell them I will” so Dream invites you over that night. He is SCARED bro. He doesn’t want to lose you.

Asking you out-

He sits on the couch across from you and leans onto the coffee table.

“Y/n, just know that we can always pretend this conversation never happened, and please tell me if you’re uncomfortable, ok?”

“Yea, ok. What’s going on Clay?”

“I- uhm, I think you’re really pretty, and sweet, and I’d love to be able to call myself your boyfriend. So, what do you say about a date?”

“Clay- yes, yes! Yes yes yes, let’s do a date!”

He gets up and hugs you so so tight.

First date-

He takes you to a little outdoor cafe, he holds your hand and pays for everything. You insist to at least pay your portion but he puts your card in his pocket and only gives it back after the bill is payed. You have so much fun and afterwards you both spend like an hour driving around aimlessly and singing along to the radio. It’s a great first date, and definitely sets the time for the rest.

Asking you to become official- you had been going on weekly dates for nearly two months and Clay was finally ready to ask you out. He takes you to a gorgeous statue garden and asks you to be his girlfriend in front of an Aphrodite statue

“Hey y/n, look at how cool this one is!” He grabs your hand slightly

“Awe, Aphrodite is so pretty” you cooed

“Not as pretty as you though” you giggle at the remark. Then he grabs both of your hands. “Y/n, do you want to like actually be my partner”

“Oh my- yes! Mhmm!” You hug him and he picks you up

First kiss-

You both had been dating for a while (I’ll let you decide because everyone has different boundaries) and you’re both laying in his bed and talking. He cups your cheek and you smile into it.

“You’re handsome” he laughed a little

“Thank you baby” he looks at you for a second before asking “can I kiss you? I really want to kiss you”

You smile and nod your head, he leans in and kisses you for a few seconds before pulling away just to then lean back in and pepper your face with kisses.

——

I LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUTTTT

#toad’s anons #dsmp #dsmpblr #dsmp x reader #dsmp x gender neutral reader #writing #dreamwastaken x reader #dream #dream x you #dream x reader #dream x y/n #dsmp headcanon

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casualheizouenjoyers · 1 year

Text

☆.｡.:* 07. so it goes... ✍︎

previous | masterlist | next

☆.｡.:* cruel summer

☆.｡.:* synopsis: you are a small streamer centered on cozy gaming and your ongoing series of ranking every taylor swift song in a tier list. scaramouche is a competitive speed runner in a streamer group called “the harbingers” that has an insanely large fan base. your paths only cross once he subtweets about your content and your favorite artist, causing a petty online argument that might lead to something else.

ㅤㅤ ╰ཱི ࣭ ࣪ ❁𝆬 ࣭ ྏ ࣭ ͘ ｡ ࣪ ✐ yntaylorsversion is live! ̣ ࣪ ྌ

“Hi, chat!” You greeted with a light smile as viewers began to flood into the stream, a little more people than you’d usually get. You quickly fumbled with your settings until your webcam turned on and a little video of your face popped up in the corner of the stream.

You gave a wave to the camera, and then picked a random playlist to play in the background. “Hi, guys!” You said again for the people who joined after your first greeting.

“So, today, we’re playing on a new minecraft server with Venti and Xiao!” You explained as you changed from your starting screen to the minecraft tab, your mouse hovering over the join server button. You take a quick glance at the chat to see what they’re saying.

rainbow-dreams

HELP DONT EXPOSE THE SERVER IP 😭😭

ynluvs

ur my comfort streamer but do we really need to listen to Taylor swift for the sixth stream in a row 🧍

rxtten_bxnes

beep beep eueueueu

kazu_zu

I can’t believe ur friends w childe?? have you not read the thread of what he’s done 🤨

“I’m not gonna leak the IP! At least, I hope I don’t. And yes, we do need to listen to Taylor swift for the sixth stream in a row,” You said as you kinda unintentionally made liking Taylor Swift apart of your brand.

“Okay, I’m going to join the VC real quick,” You said as you looked over at your discord, looking for the vc that Venti and Xiao were in. You found them at the very last one labeled vc 69…. How mature of them :)

“—aaaAAAAAAAA,” Venti’s voice immediately filled your ears, causing you to flinch.

“Venti, shut up,” Xiao said with a groan. “Hello, Y/n,” He said, clearly already annoyed with Venti.

“Hi! Why are we screaming?” You asked while your ears recovered from the screech.

“I was being chased by a spider,” Venti said, reminding you to actually join the world.

“Your fault for running into a cave with no touches,” Xiao said. “I’ll bring your stuff back to spawn,”

“Thank you, Xiao-Xiao!” Venti replied, knowing that Xiao didn’t like Venti calling him that.

“Never mind!” Xiao responded. You chuckled at the conversation between the two, finally clicking the join server button and loading into the server.

“Wait, I’m sorry!! Please bring my stuff to spawn?” Venti pleaded. “Please please please please pleaseeee?”

“That was like… six pleases you gotta say yes, Xiao,” You laughed.

“Alright, fine,” Xiao caved in.

“Y/n, are you joining?” Venti asked.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just taking forever to load,” You responded, tapping your fingers against your desk. Finally, after what seemed like forever, you spawned into the minecraft server.

Your two friends were just… standing there awkwardly waiting at the spawn, it seemed.

“You could’ve at least given me a jump scare warning!” You said, punching Venti’s in game character and watching him die just from that, his inventory of flowers and apples spreading out across the spawn area.

“Why were you on one heart??” Xiao asked, exasperated.

“Uhhhh…” Venti said as he spawned back in. “Fall damage?” He responded as if he wasn’t sure.

Xiao crouched in game, giving Venti his flowers and apples back.

“Aww, thank you!” Venti, crouching and moving closer to Xiao. “Mwah!” He acted as if his Minecraft avatar kissed Xiao’s and then ran away.

“Ewwww,” You groaned, dramatically, at the show of (pixalated) affection.

The three of you went through the regular new Minecraft server motions, punching trees and mining ore… or in Venti’s case picking flowers and dying every five seconds. You had found a pretty little flower field and started building a cozy little starter home.

Everything was going pretty nice! Until…

“Chat, I am focused on building this roof right now, I cannot read what you’re saying!” You noticed the chat going by a little faster, but you were too hyper focused on making the roof for your little cottage.

“Y/n!!” Venti said. “Y/n, look out!”

“Not now, Venti,” You said, placing the second to last block

“It’s hopeless, Ven” Xiao sighed.

“Huh—” You were knocked off the roof, taking additional damage along with the fall damage. Turning around, you saw another player standing on top of your house.

Scaramouche ran the other direction; you followed behind, stringing out sentences of curses.

authors note: ignore that the mc screenshot is obviously edited i dont have friends who plays minecraft LMAO. ngl writing third person is out of my comfort zone so i hope this is decent lmao

☆.｡.:* taglist: @raideneiari @sakiimeo @starryeyedkoko @lightlyfeatheredquailqin @thenightsflower @isa-solasun @lilactaro @imdeadlyboredhelp @arizzu @turningfrogsgay @icedmocha1 @feverish-dove @xiaosonlybeloved @sukunasrealgf @eutopiastar @shinunoga-iie-wa @phoenix-eclipses @crueldinasty @sashiette @hotgirlshit5 @certaindreampost @atlaincorrect @aludicpoet @justawalkingdisaster @m3gitsune @mechanicalbeat1 @distinguished-simp @mayacheiko

#smau #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #genshin smau #genshin impact smau #piers writes #cruel summer : chapters

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bambi-kinos · 11 months

Text

excerpts from the McLennon server (hamburg part 2)

Thank you everyone for your patience. This is Part Two of the ongoing Hamburg Conversation from the McLennon server. Part One is here: https://www.tumblr.com/bambi-kinos/718114537612656640/excerpts-from-the-mclennon-server

In Part Two of the Hamburg Conversation we discussed the 1960 trip from Paul’s POV and why he abandoned the Beatles to get a job as a coil winder. This goes into Stuart and Klaus and the Exis, plus how Paul reacted to John’s mind games where he pitted his loved ones against each other. Much has been made of John in Hamburg and how it connected to his later patterns but very little discussion of Paul comparatively.

This conversation was much messier as it spanned several days. We used Discord’s “reply” feature liberally. Sometimes you will see disparate time stamps; this is because I decided to pair the replies with the original comments they were replying to for the sake of readability. Please let me know if there are any confusing points where this doesn’t work and I’ll do my best to clarify the conversation.

***

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/07/2023 11:02 PM I am back on my bullshit about Hamburg again. this period is just super fascinating to me because of all the possibilities and the way things happened the way they did

I also want to understand why Paul chose John when the first Hamburg trip really sucked in a lot of ways and it could easily have ended with them going off to do something else.

in the beginning John helped Stuart bully Paul and he ostracized Paul from the group via the Exis (apparently deliberately? I go back and forth on this all the time, because I wouldn't put it past John to do it on purpose... but then again his MO was to get enamored with something new only to eventually drop it and snuggle up to Paul again so John probably didn't see it that way?) But once all of that was over and they were back in Liverpool, John tracked down Paul and he had to do a lot of shitwork to get back into Paul's good graces again.

Paul found a job at his dad's behest but I don't think he would have continued with the Beatles if John hadn't come to fetch him. John did something really smart when he came to fetch Paul from the yard where Paul was working: he brought George. First he had to tell George "yeah I'm back" but then he brought George with him to ask Paul to come back. Smart. Strength in numbers. Shows that he's serious and it doesn't look like he's begging because he brought another band member with him.

but Paul didn't leave that job immediately. It took months for Paul to fully come back to the Beatles. John eventually had to give him an ultimatum. I think after the experience of Stuart and the Exis and the group bullying, I think that those months were John working his way back into Paul's good graces again. And eventually Paul forced John to prove that he still wanted Paul, in a way. Earlier when we talked about this Betty made a really good point that Paul was the one fighting for the music, like John was. Stuart met Astrid and John let him go because he knew Stuart was already choosing Astrid over him so it was better not to fight it. But that period after John came back... that's fascinating. John recuperated for a while by not telling anyone he had come back. Paul got a job (and it sounds like he didn't need a lot of pushing) and I think it was because he might have been preparing to leave the Beatles thing behind completely.

Like I think Paul came back to Liverpool thinking that he and John were not friends anymore. IMO Paul carried the memory of the experience with the Exis around and that he remained distant from them forever.

Funnily enough, Paul has turned out the real black sheep of the whole trip. Everybody hates him and I only feel sorry for him.” — Stuart Sutcliffe in a letter to Rod Murray, late 1960

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/07/2023 11:09 PM I mean look at that. Look at the sheer petty contempt in that quote + the caricature. That's something else man. There's no way Paul doesn't carry the memory of that with him. And I think its present in the Revolver cover as well. Look at how Klaus portrays Paul:

I think Paul looks off to the side because that's all Klaus really gets out of him. We all know what it's like to be treated in a crappy way by friends-of-your-friends and I've said before that I think the first Hamburg trip is where a lot of John and Paul's patterns got solidified. So Paul isn't friends with the Exis, even in 1966, because he remembers who Klaus is and who he hung out with and I think those memories are very painful for him. He holds on to them. Maybe not grudges but he holds onto that pain. (And I mean, that's fair. I still remember my elementary school bully and if she were on fire in front of me I wouldn't even take a whizz on her.)

Klaus only ever saw Paul's profile... if they don't meet your eyes do you really know them? John rarely met Yoko's eyes in public I notice, whereas he was constantly diving into Paul's.... right up until that photo from the Lost Weekend where he's turned as far away from Paul as he can get... So Paul's profile being the thing Klaus drew speaks to the distance between Paul and Klaus... and Paul and the other Beatles. Even among other misfits, Paul doesn't fit in. In a lot of ways Linda was the only one who could accept him for his true self even if there was a lot of nastiness underneath that.

I think the 1966 cover is indicative that Paul held Klaus at a distance, even then. Klaus saw Paul's loneliness in Hamburg and how this made him bitter, apparently doesn't empathize with it very much since he played on HDYS.

If Klaus had tried to make friends with Paul as adults, he would have run full into the Wall. There's no way that Paul McCartney would be friends with someone who drew a caricature of him like that when Paul was friendless and in pain and the only thing he had was music and girls.

And I understand that Hamburg was full of psychosexual drama from 18 and 20 year olds, but I think that its significant because of how Paul got frozen in time due to the fame thing, struggling to grow up, suffering from a kind of Peter Pan syndrome.

So I find it interesting that... Paul got a job after Hamburg. I don't think John would have had to show up with George on Paul's lunch break and essentially beg him to come back if Paul had been gung ho about the Beatles. John had to earn his way back into a friendship with Paul. It took months for Paul to give up the job and join the Beatles fully, John remembers it as a "long trip."

There's another recollection that when John finally gave Paul the ultimatum that Paul bounced into the Cavern -- what if this is Paul being happy that John chose him, that John cared enough to give Paul an ultimatum?

John remembers it as a custody battle between him and Jim where he fought Jim for Paul's attention... but what if Paul saw it as something else entirely?

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/07/2023 11:20 PM Like, Paul got a job after Hamburg. He didn't know that John was back in town. I don't think we know when John told him that he was back. I think Paul got a job because he thought that he and John were not friends anymore after his experiences in Hamburg and the last thing he expected was for John to show up and nag him about coming back. I think Paul was convinced that John would go all in with Stuart and the Exis or that they were a sign that John was done with Paul completely. He didn't understand that John was watching Paul the entire time they were in Hamburg, watching Paul be in the filth with him, taking the pills and dealing with the gangsters and living for the music in a way that Stuart never could.

And from Paul's POV, the long stretch of months between John finding him at the spooling yards to beg Paul to come back, and Paul being given an ultimatum that he needed to choose between his job or the Beatles -- I think that period was Paul waiting to see if John really loved him/was really wanting to be Paul's friend or not.

BRrraCKets! — 05/08/2023 4:56 AM Paul doesnt suffer fools gladly, he called out the Exis on some of their bullshit and they didnt like it. They also took to Stuart and I would imagine it was a case of if your friend doesnt like someone then they dont either. Ive always felt that Klaus didnt like Paul, most of his drawings of him arent very nice, theres an odd one thats ok. That Revolver cover has always irked me with how hes drawn Paul compared to the others. I like your take on it.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 5:01 AM Do you remember the details on Paul's interactions with the Exis? I don't remember that from Tune In.

That's a really good point about Stu not liking him so the others took the lead from him, oof.

I think Klaus may have (hopefully) chilled out on Paul since then but yeah, I don't think they're really friendly towards each other. Maybe "dislike" is too strong but they only ever had John and Stu in common and, well. Paul never let Klaus in.

BRrraCKets! — 05/08/2023 5:04 AM Ive read of it somewhere but cant remember where! It was just a sentence or two.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 5:04 AM Probably a Paul bio of which I am reading McCartney Legacy

we'll have to wait for Betty to wake up

BRrraCKets! — 05/08/2023 5:45 AM I wonder, when Stuart left the Beatles, did Klaus hope to take his place on the bass. Paul stepping in would have been another reason to dislike him.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 5:47 AM That's an interesting idea. No clue but maybe that's an angle....

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 6:16 PM He did. I believe he says it in his memoirs, but also in an interview about the book in 2001. He said he asked John, but it was too late; Paul had already taken up the bass

Even if that had happened, I don’t think Klaus would’ve fit in, them all being from Liverpool and Klaus being German (I’m half-German, I can say that lol)

Plus he came from a very rich (diamond mines etc) background..sure, his family lost everything in the war, but some of the posh attitude was still there. And despite being fascinated by it, he didn’t consider rock n roll “real” music

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 7:19 PM did not know this about Klaus, huh

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 7:24 PM He talked about his grandfather being this fabulously rich eccentric

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 7:25 PM huh! i need to check his stuff out then

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 7:31 PM It’s in this German interview

https://www.sueddeutsche.de/kultur/im-interview-klaus-voormann-ich-waere-besser-gewesen-als-paul-1.432929

With the provocative headline “I would’ve been better than Paul”

Apple_Scruff — 05/08/2023 5:48 AM Paul playing based has always sounded like a forced thing out of desperation.

I doubt he would have agreed to switch to bass if Klaus was offering.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 5:51 AM Agree but....he may not have liked it if Klaus offered since he was so pushy about Stuart's playing.

BRrraCKets! — 05/08/2023 6:14 AM He didnt want anyone else muscling in. The group nucleus was set. His guitar was shot, he was filling in on piano, a bit of bass when S couldnt be arsed to show up, what else was he to do when G&J downright refused to take it on. Theyd gone home by then too.

mynamesbetty — 05/08/2023 7:50 AM unfortunately I can't think of anything like that in what I've read, I'll take a look at Tune In and the other Paul bios I have later We know that Paul is willing to ice people out when he feels they aren't working out for him as friends/collaborators, and after months of doing the most for the group and getting shat on by his songwriting partner and the Exis he was probably thinking "fuck it, I don't need this treatment" and got a job to start separating himself from the group

But John knows by now that Paul is his golden ticket and he has to get Paul back, so once he gets over the self-pity of leaving Hamburg in disgrace and works up the courage to ask Paul to come back, he brings George along to present a united front

The Beatles first show after coming back from Hamburg was on December 27 1960 at Litherland Town Hall, a few weeks after John arrived back in Liverpool

And I'd bet anything that Paul skipping back to rehearsal all smiles was because he felt like he'd gotten one over on Stuart and the Exis, in a "nyah-nyah he chose me over you (blows raspberries and making wanking motion)" kind of way

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 8:46 AM yesss perf

And it all worked out for him when John didn't discipline Paul for punching Stuart even tho he most likely lost

He had a good feeling about John making his choice too....

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 10:24 AM According to that interview from 2001, Klaus asked John to join and play bass right after Stu left, but John said Paul had already taken up the bass

Of course, in 2001, Klaus was still speculating what would have happened if he became the 5th Beatle and saying he thinks his bass playing would’ve been better for John’s style in later years

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 10:33 AM That whole interview [Klaus] showed both admiration and, imo, some disdain for Paul (and Paul wrote the foreword for his book, I believe) In that Interview he also vehemently denies anything sexual between John and Stu

It’s a fascinating period. I believe I read John was back in Liverpool anywhere from 10 days to three weeks before contacting George and Paul Which means he couldn’t have been to any of their usual hangouts

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 10:36 AM lol lmao

>better for John's later style >john and stu had nothing sexual going on incredible. so many things wrong

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 12:01 PM John periodically took time off to recharge, it was one of his quirks/needs.

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 10:45 AM I thinks it’s still a bit of envy…everyone who got close to the Beatles and thinks “what if”

To be fair, he did admit that Paul was instrumental in making the Beatles famous, because “John wasn’t a frontman” and Paul was the only professional of the group

But you can read between the lines that there is disdain there for the Beatles’ early sound and Paul was a “charlatan”….the PR man

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 10:58 AM It’s interesting that John said the way he felt after he came back after Hamburg was similar to how he felt before Paris 1961…but time he wanted Paul to be there

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 12:09 PM and Paris 1961 ended up being a two week period of great renewal and joy for John, all because of Paul. No wonder he tried to recreate it with Yoko.

louiselux — 05/08/2023 11:41 AM It’s such a fascinating period! In the breakup Paul must’ve recognised some of John’s behaviour from back then. Dropping Paul and replacing him with someone else who is more arty and special. John may have been being tactical about it back then, maybe playing Paul and Stu against each other, waiting to see where the nexus of power/talent/ambition lay, and therefore his future. Paul wouldn’t have appreciated that at all, like who would? Also John must’ve known the power he had over Paul, and vice versa, in any number of ways inc sexuality, attraction, love, obsession. That cartoon by Klaus is so deeply unkind, coupled with Stu’s letter. You have to wonder what Paul was like with them, and what all of their behaviour was like on the daily.

louiselux — 05/08/2023 11:51 AM But it is so interesting that Paul got a crappy job on the lorries, John ignored them all for weeks, and Stu was never coming back to the band. Because the gig they subsequently did that Christmas at Litherland Town Hall was where they realised how good they were compared to the Liverpool bands, and how vastly exciting the public found them. So back from Hamburg they obviously collectively didn’t know where they were going or what they were doing, or even if they were a band. I wonder just how much persuasion had to go on on John’s part to get back in with Paul. A lot of charming, a lot of fuss and attention, persuading, light grovelling

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 12:18 PM in Tune In there's a lot of quotes from George about how they felt they had a lot of talent compared to the other bands, even when they were JaPaGe and they didn't actually warrant the confidence. I think for them they were seeking energy, technical ability, and stamina which Hamburg earned them in spades and brought their talent up to their expectations at last.

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 11:57 AM Definitely shades of Yoko/John later on…Paul probably hoped/thought that would play out the same way as Stu.

But we also get so many contradictory stories out of Hamburg, like John claiming he and Paul bullied Stu and afterwards felt bad about it John turned away from music after Julia’s death and turned to drink and rage, it also kinda to Stu and art..only Paul’s persistence in pursuing John (for the band, for himself) turned that a bit back around.

I always wonder if at that point, John wasn’t getting from Paul what he really wanted, also there was still the age gap.. Stu was older, maybe came across as more mature and adventurous

Even George, I believe, said with Yoko, John was trying to replicate what he had with Stu.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 12:20 PM Yeah. its a conundrum about what that means. Did John actually feel bad after bullying Stu or did he only feel bad because then Stu died and he did some self reflecting?

Paul was very instrumental in helping John cope with losing Julia, to be fair. Paul is cited by many outsiders to be the only one who never lost his patience with John even when he was being a public embarrassment or acting violent and cruel. my personal take is that Paul is the one who cleaned John up and made him fit company for Stu and Cynthia and otherwise they would have both run away from John..

louiselux — 05/08/2023 12:01 PM That is completely fascinating to think of Yoko as a Stu replacement.

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 12:03 PM Yoko’s comments how John talked about Stu every day and how he was the best friend he ever had…I always thought she did that hurt Paul. And also, Stu died so young, I can believe John put him up on some untouchable pedestal that wouldn’t have survived if Stu had lived

louiselux — 05/08/2023 12:04 PM Agreed. You have to wonder what Lennon/McCartney would have been like with a Sutcliffe in the mix. Maybe not that different, possibly. Because Paul grew in confidence and became endlessly bold and weird

louiselux — 05/08/2023 12:08 PM Yoko likely said a lot of things with the intention of hurting him

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 12:08 PM A lot of people who were John-oriented have this complaint, that they think Paul was somehow "fake" just because he's good at selling and connects with an audience. IMO it always says a lot more about the complainer's personal issues with Paul rather than it being a legitimate criticism. Klaus doesn't like Paul because Paul cut the Exis down to size and Stuart apparently overtly hated him, then Stuart died and Paul took over the bass position which Klaus apparently asked for himself (‼️) and then Paul had the nerve to go swanning all over the world getting famous for being John's creative partner.... and no matter what Klaus says, he has eyes, he knows how John looked at Paul and what that meant.

It's just another case of someone being bitter because of Paul's success. John used Klaus as a bassman on HDYS the recording that Ringo walked out on but George did not.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 12:16 PM It being John looking for a potential future, that's an interesting idea. I think at that point John had kind of given up on that since he had been kicked out of art school by that point or was on his way to doing it. Music became his life because it kept his attention and he loved it -- he told a girl he was dating at the Cavern not to screw up her placement at art school the way he did. I don't know if he had high expectations for himself there -- what did John think of his heart? was he actually proud of it?

Paul said that he'd sometimes gang up on Stu with John as well as vice versa so I think it was definitely a case of John pitting them against each other to make them compete for the Best Friend spot. But then when Paul was deported he got a job instead of crawling back to John.... very reminiscent of the break up. Paul would fight for John but once he perceived he lost (Stu, Yoko) then he was perfectly capable of cutting John off. Paul is sensitive to being mistreated.

this is all speculation but I think that first trip was hard for Paul. He was lonely, he wanted John's attention, probably acted out and then got mocked and jeered at for it.

So he paid women to pay attention to him and then he was attractive and treated them decently which made him popular so while John is enjoying Stu's company and hanging out with the Exis, Paul simply hides in women and practices his guitar.

We have seen this before.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 12:21 PM John wanted an equal and Paul just wasn't it, even if they had chemistry. John didn't take Paul seriously until Hamburg in 1960 when he watched Paul become a man and watched him be furiously independent no matter what slings and arrows he took.

But Stu was patient and was able to meet John on a different field with Art, and John needed that very much. Paul was too young for what he wanted in a very real way.

with a Stuart that lived, I think Paul would have been pushed to make a public declaration to John instead of waffling forever. Stu was Paul's only serious competition.

louiselux — 05/08/2023 1:31 PM I think so too! Something would have had to give, because John could have gone running off to Stu at any moment

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 1:33 PM I do wonder about that scenario. It looked like John had accepted that Stu was off with Astrid. And the Paris honeymoon happened while Stu was still alive. It seems like J and P had cemented and defined their relationship

Now if Stu and Astrid didn’t last and Stu came back to Liverpool at some point…

He may have always been hanging around in the background…or maybe not.

mynamesbetty — 05/08/2023 2:04 PM John praising Paul's abilities as a bass player in 1980 must have rankled him lol, he said Paul was one of the most innovative bass players in rock

mynamesbetty — 05/08/2023 2:27 PM addendum: The Beatles with Chas Newby on bass played the Casbah on December 17 1960, we regret the error

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 2:36 PM Good! I hope it rankled

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 3:35 PM Stu had no future in Liverpool and he knew it. His application for a position at the Liverpool art college was rejected and he had a great apprenticeship going with an older German artist who recognized his talent. Stuart had no reason to back to Liverpool except to visit. I also think that Stu found his person in Astrid and their relationship would have worked.

I think the greatest threat to Paul would not be Stu's presence but what he represented in John's life: a peer who had a profound hold on John in an avenue that Paul wasn't confident about competing in. I think Paul would be very worried about John going back to Stu for sure, because he can't help being insecure about their relationship.

I think, to this day even since John is fucking dead, Paul is still worried that he will make John disgusted or bored and that John will leave him again. Irrational? Yeah. True? You bet.

I think a timeline where Stuart lives would force Paul into a corner: either he breaks the relationship or he takes a leap of faith.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 4:01 PM if anything else, this fundamental fear of Paul's would be the driver to any action Paul took regarding John in a timeline where Stuart lives. The deathly fear that Stu will take John away from him, again... Stu didn't have to be present in Liverpool, his specter would hang over everything.

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 4:25 PM I can completely see that. And totally agree on Paul’s fears until this day.

I just wonder if Stu would’ve kept this idealised spot… or if he would’ve pissed John off some point like a lot of people did, which led John to cutting him off.

Or, I guess, John could’ve remained loyal to him like he did to many old friends (at least until New York) and maybe got him to do cover or promo art for The Beatles. Can you imagine?!

Stu was so very young; it’s difficult to say what could’ve happened

Misery — 05/08/2023 4:30 PM God and the thing with Paul in Hamburg too is like

Here’s this high strung cash strapped teenager. Now we’re going to take him to a foreign country, get him addicted to amphetamines, and completely abandon him for a “cooler” friend group. Wait, why is he being so annoying?????

Like, the exis loved George, and Pete was just doing his own thing because he was so independent from the rest of the group, meanwhile Paul is all of a sudden entirely friendless for seemingly no reason, and the things that he was doing back in Liverpool are suddenly seen as annoying and stupid, and he’s being ignored left and right.

And obviously the huge caveat for the drama in Hamburg is of course that they were all idiot teens/barely adults, who had suddenly been thrust into a new stressful circumstance, so no wonder they all went insane a little bit.

Like you’ve all said it’s something that time/stu living would change a lot, but that wasn’t meant to be

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 6:24 PM I really feel for Paul during that trip. I think we can kinda guess what he was feeling, but I can’t get a real read on John at the time.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 7:24 PM Yeah, John is a real enigma here. He was very close mouthed about this period aside from some little things. Presumably because it's too painful with Stuart's death. Or maybe he just didn't care because the whole thing didn't have the same weight for him as it did for Paul... or he was too ashamed to talk about it....

But John not caring seems very unlikely since Hamburg 1960 is where he came out even more insane about Paul.

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 7:33 PM It might’ve been the drugs, his sexual explorations, mental health issues..but it is interesting he didn’t really talk about that period… Maybe too painful because it was the real start of them as The Beatles and he really missed it

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 7:38 PM ouch

this is a big part of it i bet

mynamesbetty — 05/08/2023 8:04 PM Tune In, written by the king of the Paul haters, pg 374-5

Many Years From Now, pg 64-5

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 8:06 PM the amount of seething contempt for a lonely 18 year old in these paragraphs, astounding

Morrigan — 05/08/2023 10:26 PM And I don’t think we can 100% trust Stu’s view of things either. That’s maybe how he wanted things to be. I’m not saying Paul didn’t have a rough time, but Stu may have embellished somewhat in that letter (because he also knew how important Paul was to John ultimately)

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/08/2023 10:54 PM Yeah. It occurs to me (like now, as I'm writing this) that Stuart was probably venting in that letter. I don't think he liked Paul at all but that's a lot of hatefulness in one sentence and I really dislike the idea of John deliberately tolerating someone who overtly despised Paul that much. John was an asshole at times but I struggle to imagine him encouraging that level of antipathy. So hopefully it wasn't quite that bad for Paul.

louiselux — 05/09/2023 3:12 AM Also him thinking that a letter from anyone reveals ‘the stark truth of the matter’ rather than just another pov on a situation. Mehhhh. I didn’t know that about Klaus asking to be the bass player. He seems to be a person who was used to getting what he wanted, being rich and pretty, and is it possible that he resented Paul for taking a place in the Beatles/John’s friendship that he thought should have been his?

louiselux — 05/09/2023 3:26 AM The situation is weird and so opaque. I doubt John ‘hated’ Paul, as Stu put it, because why would he suddenly hate him after being so close? But John might’ve loved being accepted as a part of the new exciting clique and that might’ve trumped everything else for a bit. John was obsessed with having his gang. It feels like a lot of heightened teenage dynamics we’re going on.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 9:23 AM thinking that the letter holds some objective truth is a classic mistake that Lewisohn makes all the time, because its easier than accepting that there were multiple POVs on what happened. Lewisohn thinks he can flatten everything and that there's an objective "truth" to discover and present (courtesy of him naturally.) It's just dumb no matter what. One of the first things I was taught about historical study was that primary sources are king because multiple POVs proliferate. It was Paul who compared Beatlemania to an earthquake and how different stories sprout from it and they're all true.

I wonder how much Klaus was shitposting or trying to grab attention via headlines with claims like that. I would be very surprised if John gave serious consideration to Klaus joining the band, Paul was already a sure thing and he clearly wasn't going to be happy with anyone else playing bass. I hope Klaus didn't actually think he had a shot, it just makes no sense for Klaus to join the Beatles from any angle.

If he really believed that he had a shot at joining the Beatles and Paul somehow stood in his way.... then uhhhh what the heck lmao

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 9:34 AM This seems very likely, good insight. Makes me wonder if John staying friends with Paul might have rankled Stu as their rivalry increased? "Don't worry Rod everyone else totally hates him here but I only feel sorry for him."

John liked new experiences and getting swept away with things so its not surprising that he got enamored with the Exis. They were arty, new, and offered a fresh POV for him to see the world. Anyone would be intrigued by such a friends group. The fact that they were happy to be dominated by John and enjoyed Stuart (especially since Stu and Astrid hit it off!) probably makes it inevitable that someone would end up on the outside and that someone was Paul.

1960 John especially would be feeling his adolescent insecurities very hard so he'd naturally want the Exis as under his thumb as he could get them. I wonder if Stuart also enjoyed being controlled that way? I don't actually know how independent he was of John compared to Paul. (Tho no one ever matched Paul in sheer tenaciousness when it came to escaping John's gravity well.)

The pills, alcohol, and sleeplessness would naturally exacerbate all this.

Morrigan — 05/09/2023 10:49 AM Maybe I’m being too judgmental when it comes to Klaus; it’s hard to judge his tone in written form. Maybe he sounded self-deprecating when answering, but I was surprised that 40 years on (at the time), instead of just saying “it’s tantalising to imagine me being part of the Beatles, but nah they were perfect they way they were and I’ve my own life”…he actually still brings up how his bass playing could’ve maybe been better for the band at some point.

To be fair, he also says Beatlemania wouldn’t have happened without Paul (his looks, his professionalism) , and that Klaus himself maybe wouldn’t have had the necessary charisma

Morrigan — 05/09/2023 10:53 AM Totally agree with this. It was a wild few months; them also being away from home for the first time as well (and in a very strange environment). So many outsiders have described the bond they had before Hamburg, how Paul seemed to make John come alive etc; they already had a solid foundation. I don’t think anyone could’ve muscled in there permanently

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 12:29 PM We don't know much about him so its hard not to give him side eye sometimes lol. Ultimately Klaus seems grateful for what the Beatles did for him and how he got to have a place in history thanks to them. I wouldn't necessarily label him negatively since he seems content with his lot and has gotten to make a lot of great art over the years. He likes his niche.

Otoh its still really weird that he's apparently still maintaining a delusion about being a potential Beatle. IMO it once again says more about his relationship with Paul than anything else. Paul is the bedrock of the band and without him, there are no Beatles. Lots of people resent him for this, even other Beatles. I would bet Klaus, like many, is pulled in by John's charisma, values George as a friend, and resents/resented the fact that he couldn't get closer to them because Paul filled that space. "If I was in his place then I could be with George and John all the time and we'd be even better friends. What's so special about Paul's bass playing anyway? I'm just as good." That's the kind of resentment that sticks with you when you have famous friends i guess.

But it also misses the point and the importance of Paul: Paul's bass playing was creative and innovative. He brought new sounds into the band. He also had the energy to get them over their creative humps to deliver material for new records and consistently hit their deadlines. Paul wasn't just "the bassplayer." He was John's everything, the one who delivered results, and the one who made the records work for the Beatles. If Klaus was really as good as he thinks he is then John would have made him a fixture during the solo years. But John didn't do that because Klaus is no match for Paul's ability to consistently deliver results.

I suspect Klaus knows this or he wouldn't admit to Paul's success like that. But its probably very hard to be close to the Beatles because you would naturally want a piece of it.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 12:32 PM

So many outsiders have described the bond they had before Hamburg, how Paul seemed to make John come alive etc; they already had a solid foundation. I don’t think anyone could’ve muscled in there permanently

An extremely vital point and probably the ultimate root of the resentment surrounding Paul during that time (or any other time). No matter what they did or where they took him, John still wanted to return to Paul.

There is something special and unique about Paul that had John loving him deeply and to the exclusion of others. Even back then.

mynamesbetty — 05/09/2023 2:00 PM I'd just like to add that re: drugs, Paul was wary of the Prellies and usually stuck to one a night, where John was eating them like candy Paul had already shown reticence towards drugs when he refused to partake of chewing the benzedrine cartridges inside nasal sprays back in Liverpool, so that's another aspect of the "Paul's not as cool and worldly as the rest of us" ganging up on him

Morrigan — 05/09/2023 3:04 PM And then that of course carried over to Paul not wanting to try acid at first

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 3:04 PM Yeah... so Paul was often on the outside that way too

Morrigan — 05/09/2023 3:07 PM I wonder if John saw that as Paul keeping a part of himself back; of not totally committing so they could share everything together

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 3:13 PM That's a big part of it. Tune In says John habitually used Prellies to try to get people to talk to him, he used it as a tool to get people to open up. So Paul dragging his heels and only doing it when he felt like it would be infuriating (and enchanting) to John because Paul was refusing to submit to John's direction and control. Paul could skate on the edges of John's gravity well and refused to get closer until he decided to.

It also may be that John was anxious about doing these things without Paul. He wanted Paul to mirror him very early and Paul's refusal to do so fascinated him especially for those moments where Paul did eventually cave and the mirroring turned out fantastic -- it made the victories sweeter. Pete Shotton said John needed a partner in everything he did, even when he was a little kid, so it was a genuine need in him to want someone like Paul.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 3:21 PM Makes me wonder how palpable John's attraction to Paul must have been -- even if he didn't fully realize it in Hamburg yet. I fully believe that there is some watershed moment we don't know about for John realizing how deep his attraction to Paul ran.

Morrigan — 05/09/2023 3:33 PM He said he chose Paul as his partner (in music), but we know it was so much more than that. At some point he realised, ‘this is the one’. If only he’d gotten to write his memoirs…. 😢

BRrraCKets! — 05/09/2023 4:00 PM I wonder if his attraction scared him a little and that’s why he backed right off in that first Hamburg trip.

He had plenty to distract him.

When Paul was deported, John was left behind. He could easily have stayed and pursued something there and kept near Stuart, but he didnt. He went back to Liverpool. Brooded on it for a while, then pursued Paul to get back with him.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 4:06 PM I never thought of the possibility of him staying behind with Stu but you're right! oh wow

BRrraCKets! — 05/09/2023 4:06 PM I think that’s when he decided Paul was it for him.

He could have looked at picking up his art again, like Stu did, or music in another band. His heart must have decided on music, but music meant Paul.

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 4:12 PM oh my god!!!! :sobface:

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 4:13 PM And also the trauma of Paul being deported... Klaus has a drawing of Paul and Pete being shoved into a cop car, I wonder if John was there if it happened like that with Paul and Pete being taken off the street

Like for John that's another loss but instead of Paul abandoning him that's someone taking Paul away from him

And so he goes home later that week.... and he stays shut up in his room for days... and when he emerges he gets George and goes straight to Paul.....

BRrraCKets! — 05/09/2023 4:15 PM He can’t do it without Paul.

Hahaha in a roundabout way, Paul made John choose between him and Stu, and Paul won!

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 4:17 PM After all that mess, John really did have a shot to choose Stuart and do art forever, hang out in Hamburg and never go back. Stuart evaded deportation by living in Astrid's house, John could do the same. But John played a few nights alone and then took all the gear back by himself

and then he chose Paul while he was convalescing in his bedroom....

Morrigan — 05/09/2023 5:10 PM I do think that was definitely part of it… but I don’t think it would’ve been that easy for him to stay had he wanted to… Stu was different because he’d already started establishing himself there outside of the band (and he had Astrid and her family, who couldn’t be expected to take on John as well).

John had no money. I believe he continued playing with other bands only to fulfil contractual obligations (?). And he said he was depressed after Hamburg, thinking this was maybe as far as music could take them… to seedy bars in a red light district. Coming back to Liverpool, I wonder what his thought process and state of relationship with Paul was like.

Now in 1961, when he again faces a crisis regarding continuing with music, he obviously chooses Paul…even without the music. Even though they were making decent-ish money in Liverpool by then, John was fed up and wanted to run away (at least for a bit).

I know people say he didn’t take Cyn to Paris because she was busy with school and unmarried couples didn’t really travel together, but I think it was more than that. He’d decided it was going to be him and Paul… in any potential endeavour, even if it wasn’t a band. That carries on through to their later ideas of writing a play, a musical together; and just always writing together

That said, I don’t think he actually wanted to stay in Hamburg

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 5:59 PM Yeah, John stayed in Hamburg for the contractual stuff. Considering its a port town it would have been easy for him to stay IMO but who knows. I think it does indicate that staying with Stuart didn't cross his mind; if it had and if John had really wanted it, he could have found a way. The fact that he didn't and instinctively went home (to the place where Paul had been forced to go) indicates just how strong Paul's hold on him was, despite John not knowing what he was going to do next.

The depression is just John's pattern I think. He had tall highs and deep lows. John coming back from Hamburg reminds me of reading descriptions of his return home from their tours and how inaccessible he was to Cynthia and Julian because of his profound depression. Hamburg was absolutely similar -- women, booze, pep pills to keep them awake and then it ended traumatically leaving John in a very bleak place. The physical low from coming off all those prellies would be crazy and John was addicted. He may have been going through detox which would destabilize his mental scape. The same thing happened with the tours and the amount of drugs they were doing, particularly the coke, which meant that John crashed after each tour because he stopped inhaling all those drugs.

We can only speculate about his thought process post-Hamburg but John repeated patterns, that was his entire thing. I think looking at the Dakota years could tell us a lot, albeit with the caveat that John hadn't done any "splitting" regarding Paul yet. He probably felt bleak, wondering if there was a point in continuing. He knew there was more pain ahead of him if he continued with the Beatles. John knew they were good and probably realized they were better than their peers but maybe he realized that he might have bungled things with Paul. He's watching the wheels.... Then he ran into George on the street iirc and that's when things solidified for him: he needed music and that meant he needed Paul.

So he takes George with him because he needs the support and doesn't want to appear vulnerable in front of someone he probably knows he wasn't kind to. And Paul holds him at arms length for a while but John is persistent and finally tells Paul that he's not going to settle for being half time anymore, Paul needs to commit to him.

When it comes to Paris and such: Paul, for John, represents renewal and possibility. He renewed after Hamburg in 1960 and sought out Paul for it. He renewed in 1961 and they went on their honeymoon in Paris. In 1980, John was preparing to record with Paul and was actively leaving Yoko.

John's mental aesthetic regarding Paul always contained admiration (and sometimes resentment) for Paul's endless energy and his ability to createcreatecreate. That's an energy that John relied on. He used it emotionally as well as musically.

mynamesbetty — 05/09/2023 7:57 PM and on the flip side we have John unfairly blaming Paul for John's inability to write by accusing Paul of bouncing along and writing like a fiend without thinking about how John was feeling, in the "I was going through murder" period

...and then, much later, John hears "Coming Up" on the radio and something long dormant sparks up inside him

VeggieRavioli — 05/09/2023 9:33 PM I'm soo late to this conversation but I love it! I wanna add my favourite Hamburg era tidbit that's hidden away in a footnote in Tune In, because I think it's really interesting to compare the aftermath of the 1960 first Hamburg trip with the 1961 Hamburg trip. TL;DR Paris was not the only time John and Paul ran away holidayed together in 1961

we all know John and Paul went to visit Betty and Mike in Caversham in April 1960, but Paul has stated multiple times that they took two trips to visit his cousin, the second one travelling down to Ryde on the Isle of Wight. But when did they take this trip? It's referenced in MYFN but no timeframe is given.

Mark Lewisohn proposes that the only obvious window is July 1961, directly after they arrived home from Hamburg - they had nine days off before they were back onstage in Liverpool on July 13. You'd think they would have spent this time kicking back at home after three months away, catching up w/ family and friends.......... but if that were the case, Lewisohn says, why didn't they attend Ringo's massive 21st birthday bash on July 8th?? All the biggest bands in Liverpool were invited, but the Beatles were conspicuously absent.

so if Lewisohn's hunch is correct and they swanned off to Ryde right after they just dragged their exhausted asses back from Hamburg, the implications of that are 👀 !!! bc that means Paul's behaviour towards John was sooo markedly different compared to the previous trip. Paul resigned himself to a shitty factory job in 1960, John had to win Paul back and prove himself to him, the band's future was in limbo..... but HERE, to me it's like 1961 Paul is staking his claim. By immediately taking John on a quick holiday to Ryde, he's actively preventing another post-Hamburg comedown and securing them some 1-on-1 time to re-cement their partnership

especially considering that Paul's tension with Stuart was arguably at an all-time high in 1961 -- they had their fight near the end of that trip, Dot and Cynthia came to visit but John & Cyn actually spent more time with Astrid & Stuart than with Paul..... I can just so see Paul being like :paulbuthehasagun: oh you like the beach John? you went to the beach with stuart? Come to this picturesque coastal town with me right the fuck now you're gonna love it

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 9:46 PM Veggie I love this connection. you're brilliant

mynamesbetty — 05/09/2023 9:47 PM get your man Paul!!

interesting that Paul made the first move here

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 9:48 PM

feral for this

YES.... after all that fuss in Hamburg they came back and Paul pushed John up against a wall and said "you're coming with me now" and john just went "o-okay"

Paul resigned himself to a shitty factory job in 1960, John had to win Paul back and prove himself to him, the band's future was in limbo..... but HERE, to me it's like 1961 Paul is staking his claim. By immediately taking John on a quick holiday to Ryde, he's actively preventing another post-Hamburg comedown and securing them some 1-on-1 time to re-cement their partnership

yes!!! he learned from 1960, he didn't give John a chance to get down in the dumps! he said "let's go on an adventure John!" and he just took him reminding John that this isn't like last time. in short Paul broke the pattern

I can just so see Paul being like :paulbuthehasagun: oh you like the beach John? you went to the beach with stuart? Come to this picturesque coastal town with me right the fuck now you're gonna love it

the jealousy angle at work here. oh my god

mynamesbetty — 05/09/2023 9:51 PM as long as they keep moving John can't sink into a funk which may have further implications re: Paul's work ethic

VeggieRavioli — 05/09/2023 9:51 PM aieeee I'm obsessed w/ it

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 9:51 PM Veggie you're a genius

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 9:52 PM john's in a depression? let's do something and distract him from it... 1960? on the rocks, worry and frustration. 1961? "dis mine dis MINE"

VeggieRavioli — 05/09/2023 9:54 PM while they seemed to make a lot of progress in Hamburg RE: trading up to better and better clubs, it really stood out to me in Tune In that after their 2nd trip they just returned to the same old in Liverpool, again - same circuit of halls and clubs, no one on their level, no upward momentum until Brian in November. So I love how John and Paul dealt with this by repeatedly skipping out on commitments when they got bored and goin on trips together

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 9:54 PM yeah! they decided it wasn't worth their time so they bolted

and they were right too lmao

they wanted to be together instead of playing the same circuit over and over...

VeggieRavioli — 05/09/2023 9:56 PM and then Stuart's writing letters like "they quit the band and went to Paris to play together? I don't believe it..."

Paul's like "you'd bETTER BELIEVE IT BUDDY"

Morrigan — 05/09/2023 9:58 PM Wasn’t it said that Ticket to Ride was inspired by Ryde?

VeggieRavioli — 05/09/2023 9:59 PM yes fs, I think Paul restates this in The Lyrics again too? don't have it in front of me, but yes

VeggieRavioli — 05/09/2023 9:58 PM Oh I thought we’d shared that quote here already but no it’s legit

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 05/09/2023 10:00 PM this is the possessive Paul we need

mynamesbetty — 05/09/2023 10:10 PM Paul stomps in like "he's my soulmate, get your own!" and whisks John off on a road trip

Apple_Scruff — 05/09/2023 10:11 PM Stuart literally having his own soulmate Astrid the whole time: confused

Morrigan — 05/09/2023 10:44 PM People have to had seen the special connection between them…John wasn’t going on trips to Ryde or Paris or Caversham with just George

louiselux — 05/10/2023 3:25 AM So fascinating and such great detective work! I wonder too if Paul thought he might be detoxing John, or whether they both had that in mind? Sun, sea, fresh air, no amphetamines etc, just wholesome British beer lol.

louiselux — 05/10/2023 7:06 AM There's just something so innocent about Paul taking him on a seaside holiday, compared to what they had just been doing in Hamburg, it's so sweetly unsophisticated.

I've been to Ryde. The whole of the Isle of Wight, where Ryde is the main town, is just off mainland UK and it feels stuck about 30 years in the past, so Ryde in the early 60s might've felt very old fashioned indeed.

#mclennon #hamburg #hamburg days #the beatles #stuart sutcliffe #beatles meta #my meta #john lennon #paul mccartney #mclennon server

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