#casanova begins

[twig-tea]

My Universe Round-Up

This was a series of 2-part short stories, essentially each the length of a movie but they're more episodic which makes it an interesting format to get a wide variety of actors, directors, stories, and tones. And all of these vary widely. Most of the actors are very green, which means the performance quality falls all along the spectrum, but overall emotions often fall flat. There are a handful of different directors too (each directs a few of the stories), so these really feel different. The only two things that don't vary are the production quality (middling; sometimes some decent camera shots, but few sets and extras, sound is sometimes shirt-muffled or otherwise messed, the usual hilarity of royalty-free music choices) and awkward subtitles.

The subtitles deserve their own paragraph because I think they're potentially the worst kind, in that they look fine but then every once in awhile the translation is the opposite of what it should be. Having a bit of Thai knowledge and experience with Thai pulps really helps navigate these.

The other thing to say about the structure of this series is that there is a neat thing where each story sets up the next with either a character appearing in the next one or having been mentioned in the previous one. So they're all in the same universe but are otherwise unrelated. Sometimes you can guess whose story you'll get next (like a side character), sometimes it's a real stretch (like the waiter at the noodle place the characters ate at once).

As a really brief summary of what these are actually like in terms of narrative, they took as many tropes as they could think of and then treated them seriously. It could have been interesting, if they had something to say, but I'm really not sure they did. There are a lot of difficult circumstances covered, sometimes with hope, sometimes with nihilism, and it often feels like the story is about the characters around those who are dealing with difficult circumstances rather than those who are experiencing it themselves. Honestly this felt like a film school project about trying out difficult tropes, rather than folks with something to say about a specific topic.

Tropes [note, almost all of these are a dark/sad version of these tropes and end sadly or open]: bodyswap, mistaken identity, in-love-with-your-sibling's-friend, destined lovers, enemies-to-lovers, love triangle, coach/athlete, fake-date-turns-real, twincest, age gap, paid companionship, terminal illness.

Warnings for this series overall: murder, attempted sexual assault (in multiple miniseries), incest (only very lightly speculated about), ambiguous relationship with a minor, cheating, intimate personal violence, death of parents, death of a partner

If you're going to try any of them, I'd recommend episodes 5-6, which were the story Right Time, Right You as a starting point--it has some of the better acting, an open ending, but still some of the dark themes (treated not as dark as some of the other segments) so it's a good litmus for if you should try any of the other parts out.

The one I most enjoyed watching was episodes 7-8 You Are My So(ul) Mate which unsurprisingly had actors who have acted before, and was one of the rare happy endings. The last one, I Wish You Love episodes 23-24 was maybe the best done overall (least annoying flashbacks for sure, decent pacing in the romance, comparatively decent acting) but warnings for the ending.

Details of each 2-part miniseries with rating and specific warnings beneath the cut for anyone still curious about any of these stories! My goal here is to give you enough info to watch whichever ones might interest you so I do spoil twists below when I think it's important to help people decide whether to watch. Feel free to ask questions if you're still not sure or have specific things you want to avoid.

Ep 1-2: Casanova Begins

4/10: Not recommended unless you like bodyswap

This plot was doomed to never fly with me; a dead lover tries to seduce the man he left behind in the body of the man he thought his lover was going to cheat on him with. I love supernatural stuff but bodyswap is a hard hill to climb and 2 episodes just isn't enough time to do it well. That being said, the actors did surprisingly well in the scene where all is revealed and they're saying goodbye. There's a stinger, and it did NOT work for me--people are not interchangeable.

Ep 3-4: Marry Go Round

6/10: Decent pulp with a good underlying message, but you have to not mind slapstick

I like the way one side character from the previous series brings us into the next, it's a neat way to tie these otherwise unrelated stories together. For a slapstick comedy of errors, this worked surprisingly well. The misunderstandings are well set up and make sense, characters have motivation for continuing the shenanigans and the continual additional complications build to absurdity but it all holds together in a very slapstick comedy way. Mei being willing to marry her friend's boyfriend to help keep their secret is top tier allyship. I wish the fujoshi had been chewed out more; she was invested in exposing them as a couple for her own curiosity/excitement and that's gross, and I don't like that she got any credit for their happiness. The mom being a secret fujoshi herself [and, it's implied, very ok with their relationship as a result] was a little on the nose lol The performances in this one were a little weak on the comedy; slapstick like this isn't easy to do well and the comedy suffers from this not being these actors' strengths. All that being said, the underlying message that marriage equality is the right thing and having to stay in the closet causes so much strife for everyone is one I can get behind.

Ep 5-6: Right Time, Right You

7/10: Decent plot, acting, themes. A bit rushed, but good pulp. Warnings for references to intimate partner violence. Ambiguous ending.

I enjoyed this one; I love the in-love-with-your-sibling's-friend trope, I love smiling-to-hide-pain, and I love pining. I love the complicated feelings around not being ready to let go of the love you have for someone even if they hurt you. I love wanting to do something for your friend because you see them hurting, and not knowing what will help. I love your sibling and best friend always being able to read you and ferret out your secrets. The framing in this one was interesting, there were a lot of on the nose imagery with the fence, the rope, the cigarettes. I really liked the dynamic between these characters, Mhok really felt like a younger sibling; a little willful, pouting when he is ignored, or not taken seriously, stealing his sister's breakfast, tagging along. And the ending was sweet. It's clear that Phat feels something, though he's been explicit that he's not ready to open up to anyone. And we basically end with very tenuous possibility. Not for anyone who is not ok with ambiguous endings.

Ep 7-8: You Are My So(ul) Mate

6/10: Fun trope-y pulp. Again you have to be ok with slapstick comedy, and I docked this one for internal inconsistencies but the chemistry was on point.

Ahhh one of my favourite romance tropes, dreaming of your destined person before you meet, and then experiencing the dream in reality! I appreciated that Butr's mom really did have a gift, and that he didn't believe and wrestled with the ethics of that. I also really liked that they tried to engineer a coincidence and had one anyway; I'm a sucker for magic/fate is what you make it. The actor playing Butr looks like a Footloose-era Kevin Bacon when he smiles while ducking his head, and the other lead is from My Cuisine, so I was pre-disposed to find them extremely cute. I do love shy4shy. That being said, a lot of the melodrama was around coincidence, and it was clear the overeager senior was just scouring campus for the guy, so there was a double-standard with the "coincidence" that would work (at least in the eyes of the protagonist) so a lot of it doesn't really hold together if you think about it very hard.

Episode 9-10: Lucky Love

5/10: rough especially with the language gap, but the leads have an interesting dynamic

Content warning for an attempted asault in this one. Annoyed-strangers-to-lovers where one guy has just broken up and is drunk and belligerent about it, and the other is not taking his shit. I really like Jeng as this taciturn dude who shows caring through food. The ex is still around, Meen is still clearly not over him, and goes through the stages of learning to prioritize his own feelings and truly let Noll go. Jeng talks mostly in innuendo, which paired with the bad subs (bad enough that sometimes they say the opposite of what's meant) means that a lot of this one is lost in translation. Because of the short runtime and the amount of time Meen spends getting over his ex, they can't get far, but the show gives the sense that they'll just keep on as they've been going. All that being said, Meen wears dangly earrings and has a femme best friend who is fantastic, and I am a simple person who enjoys her simple pleasures, so I actually didn't mind watching this one.

11-12: The Camp Fire

4/10: really disliked the twists in this; the horror was ok. Warnings for blood, ghosts, references to drowning, on-screen death.

Content warning for blood, ghosts, death (more details follow). Horror BL starring Kaonah and Turbo. Two guys who have been chatting online agree to meet in person but it turns out they already know and dislike one another; now they're stuck toughing it out at the campsite rather than let the other chase them home. Turns out this is a classic BL love triangle wherein one of the boys thought they were competing for the same girl, but his "rival" loved him the whole time (this is not the twist, it's fairly obvious). And that was my first frustration; Talay was unwilling to admit any kind of feelings for Camp even though Camp tries to reach out, even though he's clearly been in love the whole time and now has the excuse of their anonymous conversation and meeting. But then we get into the real spoilers, with the double-twist that honestly ruined this for me. First, it's revealed that June the girl who Camp loved is dead, and she died after being rejected by Talay (implying she killed herself) after Talay pretended to be into June so that she would not take up Camp's offer to be together. This made me really not want to root for this couple at all, Talay's character is awful at this point. Then Camp hears this story and decides to admit he likes Talay anyway, which felt extremely rushed if not absurd, and then June haunts them in earnest and snaps Camp's neck on screen. And then in a second twist, we find out we've been watching a film within a film the whole time, and Talay and Camp just met for the first time for filming this and have just started dating in real life. But we spend so little time with the "real" Talay and Camp that I wasn't invested in them at all as a pair.

13-14 Friends Forever

4/10 friendship in this is great but upsetting on the romance front, and the actual execution was rough and full of unnecessary flashbacks; content warning for coach/athlete, unnegotiated kink (slapping during intimacy), dubious consent (for the slap not the intimacy), murder (not shown on screen), and ghosts

So spoiler based on the content warning, this is a story about a coach who seduces one of his athletes and then murders him so that the athlete won't expose their relationship and get him fired. The sexy scene is consensual but the coach introduces pain without any context or consent, and it's just kind of shrugged off. The coach is creepy from jump so I enjoyed none of the couple's scenes. Beyond that, my issues with this were the massive use of flashbacks in a 2-episode short. They basically re-showed ep1 in ep2. The acting is ok, and the friendship (which is the actual story) between the guy who is murdered and his team is extremely cute, it was heartening how much this team supported their teammate dating the coach and how much they missed him and cherished his memory after his death. But this could have been one episode, or they needed something more to do.

15-16 Fake Love

4/10 flat acting and more flashbacks than actual new shots (half of ep 15 is a flashback of the other half of ep 15, and then we get it AGAIN in ep 16).

In this story a university student is trying to show up his pushy ex by blackmailing a campus 'prince' to pretend to date him. He finds out that his fake boyfriend used to have sex with his ex, and gets upset. They make out and then avoid one another. Fake boyfriend gets beat up and they reunite and admit they both lie to protect their reputations. There's an implication that Pol was being judged for being slutty and Peem was being judged for being poor, which I would have liked as a theme if they then hadn't undermined this by framing Pol as being "good now" at the end. Open but tentatively happy ending.

17-18 Pisces of You

3/10 WHY IS THIS SO DARK DANG. TW attempted sexual assault, blackmail, speculation about incest (really mild),

Ok so this is about twins being jealous and confused about their feelings; Mild is here and he sexually assaulted one of them (idk how young these actors are but this was hard to watch though he doesn't get far). I don't mind what they're doing around twins pulling apart, falling for other people and putting them first, being confused about their feelings, throwing away their future for an unrequited love (this is actually super realistic), regretting their decisions. But goddamn that was painful AF and these baby actors really struggled to actually deliver on these difficult and complex emotions.

19-20 1626

6/10 decent short story but barely a romance. Warnings for age gap.

Follows one of the twins' love interests from Pisces of You; we find out why he wasn't interested in the twin, it's because he has his own love interest in his former tutor 8 years older than him (16 and 24). For what could have been a really cringe story, this was handled relatively well. They were careful that these two characters barely touched, and made the feelings between them very ambiguous and confused. The ties between them were very confused too; they both had family trauma and had helped one another to the point where desire and debt seemed to be inextricably mixed up. I appreciated the choices made in this one. Again, not what I would consider a "romance" story per se. And again, the ending is ambiguous.

21-22 Refund Love

2/10 incomprehensible, terrible acting, terrible plot, zero chemistry, infidelity, manipulation, and weird unclear moralizing around a thinly veiled allusion to sex work

This one, I don't even know what to say. It's trying to be clever with the way it parcels out information, but it ends up being just frustrating and, in the end, nonsensical. I won't even try to avoid spoilers or fake impartiality here, because I really think nobody should watch this one. This is all about jealousy of your significant other taking a job as a "companion" for other people. There's lying, manipulation, and attempted fake relationships for jealousy purposes. I'm sad because this also has a side GL couple, but they made no sense. This couple claimed to have orchestrated their boyfriends deciding to spy on them together (how?) in order to....see if they cared enough to fight for them, after one had already broken up with her man and the other was going to? What in the world was the endgame?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE. Anyway they really shoehorned in a relationship in this one with two guys--one of whom just broke up, the other who is thinking about whether or not to break up, and who spent only one day together, most of which under false pretenses--and I didn't buy a second of it.

23-24 I Wish You Love

5/10 big themes, decently handled to a point, but the story was about how helping the terminally ill character helped the abled character find purpose, and that sat wrong with me. Warnings for discussions of terminal illness and character death (not shown onscreen), as well as loss of parents.

This episode was set up as a ghost in the mirror story, but the supernatural element disappears pretty quickly and is actually just an excuse to bring together the two main characters (who knew each other before but one thought the other was dead) back together. This story is trying to deal with the very serious issue of chronic illness and what it's like being young and unable to do the things other people do, and the suicidal ideation that can come from being isolated and having a limited time left anyway, as well as the regrets about missed opportunities. It was also dealing with the sometimes awkward feeling of sorting out the love of friendship and the love of romance, and transitioning from P'-Nong to Faen, especially with the additional fear of loving someone when one of you has limited time. The supernatural element comes back at the end to grant one wish, and to give the character who is sick a chance to undo one regret. It's implied Marwin died, but we don't really see him process having completed their bucket list, instead we get Pond reflecting on what he'll do next and how this experience has given him meaning. This episode had fewer egregious flashbacks than the other episodes, and better acting (one of the main characters is actually one of the series directors, and the other is Winner aka Wai from My Dear Gangsta Oppa, as well as War of Y and Nitiman), but did also use an instrumental auld lang syne in the background of a dramatic scene that was distracting, and some awkward we-don't-have-budget-for-an-actual-ambulance-or-emergency-personnel moments. Overall it was one of the better offerings from this series but I wasn't thrilled with how it made the terminally ill character's death a teachable moment for the one left behind, even though that was honestly flagged as the point throughout the two episodes, so is maybe my hang-up and a little unfair. At least this series framed that it was about Pond the whole time (we start and end with him).

[clairificusrex]

BL Thai - Casanova Begins ( My Universe project )

Going to be out 20 August On IQIYI Uncut Vers and Amarin TV

Depicts the story of Pluem, a lost spirit who wakes up in Kim's body, a Casanova. With his new body, he must keep his real identity secret, if someone discovers the truth, he will die within three hours. How will he manage to survive?

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A post shared by BoysLoveUpdate 🏳️‍🌈 🇫🇷 🇬🇧 (@allabout_boyslove)

This looks... odd? Haven't heard of it before and story seems unusual but you never know!

@absolutebl @bengiyo @heretherebedork @iguessitsjustme @waitmyturtles

[bengiyo]

My Universe: Casanova Begins Ep 2 Stray Thoughts

Last week, we began this mega BL collection and I did not have a good time! Our protagonist is the spirit of a guy who died two years ago and is now somehow possessing the body of a rich playboy who owns a hotel. He's using the opportunity to hit on his boyfriend who has mourned him, but can't tell him who he is. It's kinda dumb, and requires a lot of effort for me to keep straight.

Seems like Pluem and Khao were having big problems before he died.

Oh fuck. Khao caught that someone was reading the old messages.

Now there's a clip we're worried about being leaked?

Obviously this premise is fictional, but hitting on your....ex?...this way feels weird.

I don't think I remember what was said in the letter for the sister to be mad about now.

Now, Pluem. Why would you keep that phone on you and why would you leave the sound on?

I'm glad Khao is having the appropriate reaction to what feels like a huge invasion of his privacy.

Lol, honestly he probably needed to break up with Pluem because he was being paranoid and mean.

There's 27 minutes left in the episode and he's got 22 minutes to live since he told about who he is.

Now, he better not jump.

What the hell is going on? He jumped and now he's waking up in some bed?? Was this all fake?

Wait, so Kim is willing to just hand his body over to Pluem? Khao liked Kim before? There are just so many details to track!

I appreciate all of the shorthands they're using to get through the plot, but OMG what the hell is this??

This show feels like it comes from the same emotional space as Eternal Yesterday, where they want to let a couple say the things they need to say to each other before one is snatched away. Unfortunately, this felt so busy.

Next week, Marry Go Round. I think these are the Destiny Seeker boys. This preview is making me think of Ang Lee's The Wedding Banquet (1995).

Oh, I did not like this post credits scene trying to have its cake and eat it too.

Casanova Begins Verdict: 6, Neat Thesis at the End but Too Busy. There's just way too much plot getting to the main point of Khao needing to let go of Pluem. It was interesting that Pluem suggested they break up before his spirit moves on. There are some neat ideas about queer grief and pain if I squint, but squinting I would be. On to the next one, I guess.

[variousqueerthings]

there's this bit about 15mins into casanova where you meet the young casanova (played by young david tennant) properly, after an intro/tease initially depicting a fantastic chase scene through venice (you love your wife... I love your wife... aren't we both on the same side???) and then going both forwards and back to withhold more of this man until we've understood both where he came from and where he's going a little better. and then we return to young casanova for a second time, reintroduced properly like this:

in a black space, spotlight on him, nude from behind, and then a beautiful rich lush outfit attaches itself to him piece by piece, as if by magic, until he's fully dressed -- both in disguise as is made very clear (he was not a nobleman and was intending to blend in with them), but also as a sort of truth. it's framed as this conscious, highly enjoyable sequence, with casanova participating in the clothes "choosing" him by lifting his arms and legs so that everything can fit, and he stands at the end, delighted, maybe even a tad smug at just how good he knows he looks

that is dr james barry coded, that's what I want to see with anyone putting pen to paper on him from here on out, do away with angst over identity and subterfuge, and have him own it right at the start -- this is a story about a man who made choices consciously, with great passion and delight (although in dr barry's case also with a lot of righteous anger and the unfortunate habit of challenging other men to duels at the drop of a hat), and perhaps he was just a tad smug about how good he looked

[xxx-calibur]

"You know, if I had a nickel for every daughter i've had with women from beyond the stars i'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but pretty cool that its happened twice. ...I want more nickels."

[berrryparfait]

who came before me? ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— ��‧₊ᐟ featuring: sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier, caleb x fem!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ premise: who were the girls who came before you? what were they like? did he love them? one night, your thoughts and insecurities get the best of you, and you decide to face them once and for all. 「please don't be in love with someone else.」

— ༉‧₊ᐟ tags/cws: slight angst, reader is not mc nor have the LIs ever met mc in the past, hc that rafayel used to be a huge playboy, xavier is a regular-aged person, caleb first met reader in school

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: die for you – joji

✧ a/n: i'm the type to lowkey obsess over my partner's exes lol so here's me projecting!!! i love exploring complex relationship dynamics that involve past lovers so here's one of my fave tropes (not-first-love-but-greatest-love) tied up in a bow for yall <3

SYLUS confesses that there have been other women, though not many as he isn’t the type to frequently engage in casual hookups. He’d slept with a few women before he met you, though none of them had resulted from or led to serious dates. Somehow, he’d just…lost interest. Not that he ever felt those women were beneath him or unworthy of his time, but he’d never really connected with anyone before you appeared in his life. Meeting you felt a lot like getting his ribcage smashed to pieces as you wriggled your way into his heart—once a cold and empty place but now safe, full, and warm. “I’ve never been the best at…getting to know people, but with you,” he whispers as he gazes deep into your eyes, “for once in my life, I might be in grave danger.”

ZAYNE had been on a few dates in the past, most of them arranged by mutual friends or formed through his workplace. He wasn’t exactly the outgoing type, so he kept to himself most of the time while at work. However, fellow doctors or nurses would ask him out from time to time, a few of whom he’d gone on one or two dates with. He enjoyed their company, though none of them ever lasted very long. Besides the fact that Akso hospital was a busy one, Zayne was also known to be emotionally distant, slightly arrogant, and “married to his work”. Despite all this, he was a polite and caring man, and none of his ex-flings had anything negative to say about him. “It feels different when I’m with you. Not that this is why I like you, but I appreciate you giving me space when I need it most—even as I find myself wanting that space less and less.”

RAFAYEL could not have been described as anything other than a shameless Casanova—there’s no denying that. He sought pleasure everywhere he went, always up for another night of fun. Of course, this was an easy feat for him; he was always undoubtedly the most gorgeous man in the room, and people loved to look. Inviting eyes, lush violet hair, finely-sculpted figure… Rafayel commanded attention, and reveled in it too. He looks a little ashamed when revealing his past to you, which does sting at first, but you appreciate his honestly and willingness to be vulnerable with you. He’s changed, after all. “I chased after that high for a long time, night after night after night… I was happy, but what I felt then couldn’t even begin to compare to the joy I feel with you, just standing still.”

XAVIER had had a crush on one of the other Deepspace Hunters for years—an older girl who used to help him train every once in a while back when he was a rookie. She was outgoing, popular, and cheerful, and he found himself stuttering and blushing whenever he had the chance to speak to her. Despite his growing feelings for her at the time, he never made a move for fear that his adoration would be unrequited. He eventually got over his crush but remains grateful for everything she taught him and the support she'd showed him as his senior. It’s undeniable that he’ll always care for her in some way, for she played a part in making him the courageous, compassionate man you know today. "It was just a silly little crush, that’s all. Let’s not dwell on the past and instead focus on our future. How else would I be able to devote my attention to the love of my life?"

CALEB has never even thought of touching another girl since he first laid eyes on you back in school. Well, except for that one time in college, when he slept with a classmate. A much-needed release, sure, but even then, his thoughts were consumed by you—a torturous cycle of fantasies and memories that never existed. No one else has ever been able to fill that endless, gravity-defying void. He’s wanted you for so long, it’s no surprise he’s so set on never letting you go. He told himself that maybe if he went out more, surrounded himself with other women, found common ground with them, he’d be able to get over you. But he was wrong. "You consume me, incapacitate me. So no, there's been no one else. Consider me historically, currently, and eternally yours."

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

《 please do not copy / plagiarize / translate my works or publish them on any other platforms. 》

[lostinlovingrevery]

Canceled Plans

70s! Logan X F! Reader

You have plans, but so does Logan

A/N: Fighting through writers block! The way this fic is literally a warmup. Been obsessed with 70's Logan lately. Hes so yummy.

Warnings: SMUT, mdni!, Morning sex, established relationship, unprotected piv, Logan being a menace and cocky, also being a little needy but in a dom way, fingering, gets a lil rough, some praise, creampie, snuggles <3

The ringing of your alarm clock stirred you from your sweet dreams.

The first thing you noticed is heavy arms wrapped possessively around you. A face buried into your neck. A broad chest against your back. Legs intertwined with each other. You were surrounded by nothing but sheets, pillows, and him.

Stretching your arm out to hit the annoying alarm clock, shutting the ringing off before retreating back to the warm nest you've found yourself in. You closed your eyes for another minute, the call of sleep and snuggles sounding sweeter and sweeter- then deciding that would be dangerous and you absolutely had to get up and get ready for the day.

Stirring, a soft moan escaped you as you removed Logan's arm wrapped around you in a firm embrace, beginning to climb out of your nest.

Only to get sucked right back in.

"Mm-mm." Logan grumbles, a sound of displeasement in your ear. His arms rewrap themselves around you. Strong, warm, you brought your hands up to caress them, nails gently scratching up and down one arm.

"I gotta get up Lo."

"No." He mutters. You giggled at his response. "Too early."

"For you, maybe. Some of us have things to do." You retort, but he simply buried his face into your hair. "C'mon," Your voice lighthearted. "let me up."

A heartbeat passed and he grumbles, loosening his hold on you. You began climbing out of bed again, pulling the comforter off of you- only to be pulled back into his arms again with a yelp.

You turn your head to look up at him, and could see how much he was suppressing his smile with closed eyes- pretending to be asleep. He finally opened them, and his cocky grin could no longer be hidden when he's met with your bewilderment. You laughed,

"Howlett!" You struggled in his arms with no avail, mirth escaping you.

"No, no, You ain't going anywhere sweetheart." He hums, "You're staying right here, with me."

"Lo-" You brought a hand up to his cheek, brushing through his beard and softly scratching it. You leaned forward, kissing the tip of his nose, but he lowered his head to meet your lips. You parted from his lips, your hand climbing into his hair and scratching at his scalp.

There was a time you actually thought this man wasn't serious about you. He seemed to be a regular Casanova, and you were sure that he was going to break you heart sooner than later. You waited for the pin to drop after every date, every steamy night together, every deep conversation where he opened up to you- puzzle by puzzle.

It never happened.

He was the first to say "I love you"

"You gotta let me up baby."

He let out a small sigh, a small roll of his eyes, as he lets you go.

"Thank you-" You respond with a singsong voice and pecked his lips once more. You climbed out from your side of the bed. Still nude from last nights adventures with Logan. You walked around the mattress to his side, where you dresser was located.

Logan turned onto his back, watching you with sleepy eyes until your back was turned to him as you pulled open a drawer searching for the clothes you wanted to wear today. His sleepy expression turned dark, as his eyes trailed down your spine, to your tush- noticing the prominent bite mark he left on it last night. Smirking, he quietly sat up from the bed, and in a swift movement grabbed you and pulled you back onto the bed.

You squealed in surprise, before Logan came through, kneeling between your legs, staring down over you with a sinful grin. You looked up in surprise.

"Logan!" You reached your hands out to press against his hairy chest, feeling arousal and heat rush to your core at the sight of his muscular figure above you.

"LoGAn" He mocks your voice, grabbing your wrists, pinning you down to the mattress. He captured your lips in a messy and possessive kiss. "Told ya sweetheart-" He licks into your mouth. "You're staying with me."

You moaned into his kiss, lifting your hips against his. He moved to press kisses all over your face, and then along your chin, jaw, and down your neck.

"Lo-" You whined. "I hav-"

"Yeah yeah, you got things to do." He mutters, pressing a kiss to the bottom of your ear. "Places to be, people to talk to. I got my own plans too, sweetheart."

He removed his hands from your wrists, moving to the crooks of your legs and pushing them forward, spreading you open for him. His erect cock resting atop your core.

"-and that includes you and me," He leaned down over you, pressing his chests against your breasts. You gasped, his weight atop you was comforting- but a lot. "...never leaving this room."

He pressed open mouth kisses along your collar bone, as he pushed his cock through your wet folds, sliding it through over and over. His tip bumped into your clit, sharp gasps escaping you each time.

"God you- Oh- You're insatiable." You whined.

"Only cause it's you baby." He hummed, capturing you into a messy and heated kiss. He pushed your legs to rest on his shoulders, bracing one hand by your head, the other sliding between your heated bodies, finding the bundle of nerves that sent you careening just from his touch.

He grinned at how you reacted to him, small gasps and whines gracing his ears- music to his ears. He wanted to listen to you, his never-ending song.

His fingers swirled over your clit, sending waves of warm honey-like pleasure through you. You melted into the mattress, your hands gripped the sheets as your arched your back into him, your legs falling off his shoulders.

He removed his fingers just as you felt the winding tight feeling in your lower belly. You whined and he chuckled.

"Don't worry, I got you." He hums. He took his shaft in hand, throbbing, desperate for your walls to clench around him. He led himself to your entrance, pushing his tip inside you.

You gasped, your hands came up, pressed to his chest as you let out a small hiss from the intrusion.

"Sssshh." He laid himself atop of you, slowly pushing deeper inside, watching as your eyes rolled back and mouth fall open in amusement. He tipped his chin up and looked down at you, clicking his tongue sympathetically, shaking his head, "S'okay sweet girl. I got you." He purrs. "Always taking me so damn good. Such a good girl aren't you?"

You moaned, your head falling back, exposing your neck to him. Your pussy clenched around him so damn tight it was almost painful. Almost.

"Logan-" You whimpered, small heated gasps escaping you. He pressed butterfly kisses to your exposed neck, before finding your pulse point- and biting down, eliciting a yelp that turned into a moan as he sucked on your skin and gave you time to adjust to his size. He could feel you pulsing and clenching around him, desperate for him to move- trying to milk him of his release so early. "Oh- Please, I need you to move-" You breathed.

"So polite." He chuckled, slowly he rutted his hips into you, before he began pulling out to the tip- and pushing back inside. Your head fell to the side limply, turning into a ragdoll in his arms- just how he liked you.

He picked up pacing, fucking you with a vigor that you'll never get used to, and love it intensely. Your legs hung over his bulging biceps, his veins popping out from the tension he held in making sure he didn't spill into you prematurely- because fuck you always feel so damn good and it takes him everything to hold back, even if he plays himself off as the smooth one.

His hips slammed into yours, his heavy balls slapped against your cunt. A slick wet noise was heard through the room- alongside your heavenly pants and Logan's animalistic grunts. The mattress squeaked repeatedly, and the bed frame groaned- unlikely to take any more of you and Logan's abuse.

His free hand came up, cupping your jaw and tipping your head to look at him. He smirked at you already fucked out expression.

"In a rush to go somewhere now sweetheart?" He hums, leaning down to brush his lips over yours as he spoke. Your hazy eyes looked into his, and you couldn't help but think:

So damn cocky

"Damn right I am." He smirks, as if he read your mind. He angled himself, pounding faster into your pussy and sent you reeling as the tip of his cock found the gummy spot inside you. Your hands frantically climbed into his hair, and then clung to his back- nails digging into his skin, leaving red crescent sharp marks that'll heal over as soon as your remove your hold on him.

"Logan!" You cried out for him- feeling the familiar tightening building in your lower belly- it was strong, overwhelming, and brought tears to your eyes as he continued pounding into you. his arms quickly wrapped around your torso, your legs hooked over his elbows and your arms pinned to your sides. He planted his face into your neck gasping and grunting - fucking into you with a new force he hadn't used before.

It was so much, it was too much. Tears rolled down your face as you begged for your released. You felt the bed creaking and groaning- and your swear it was now being pushed out of place with the power of each of Logan's thrusts into you.

"Fuck- c'mon baby-" He hissed into your ear through gritted teeth as he turned his head to see your fucked out expression. "Fucking love you, you know that? Cum for me-"

That was the final nail, as pleasure erupted through your body, sending waves and waves over you- so hard you saw stars as he continued working you through your coitus. You screamed his name, as you shook underneath him. You were so out of it you didn't even hear him praising you.

He reached his own peak during yours, burying himself as deep as he could, his legs and feet digging into the mattress desperately trying to make sure you get every drop inside of you.

He let out a choked gasp as the last of his cum shoots out in ropes inside you, nearly beginning to leak out just from the sheer amount.

You both collapsed in exhaustion. He used his arms to not allow his full weight to crush you under him. Pants and frantic heartbeats filled the room.

Finally your turned your head towards him. Heavy and tired eyes that were filled with love looking at him. You managed to free one of your arms, brushing a few strands of his sweat-slicked hair from his forehead, gently petting and scratching his scalp.

"I love you too." You smiled, your voice barely a whisper- sore and dry from your earlier vocalizations. He hummed, a sound almost akin to a purr.

"That mean you'll cancel those plans?" He murmured, closing his eyes.

You giggled. "You didn't give me much of choice." You shook your head, now playing with his hair tuffs. He sighed contentedly, before sitting up, carefully helping you out of your position, before maneuvering the both of you back into the spot you woke up in not long ago.

"Good." He responds, his arms wrapping securely around you and pulling you against his chest after he pulled the blanket back over the two of you. Once again creating the nest of blankets, pillows, and him.

[sceletaflores]

he’s a good time, cowboy casanova!

pair: cowboy!logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 9.4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, alternate universe/no powers, swearing, drinking, smoking, probably some inaccuracies about ranch life idk i haven't been around a horse in like two years, logan working a lasso yes god, age gap (early 40s/mid 20s), THE COWBOY HAT RULE RAAAHHH, nasty dirty talk, i was so horny for kissing when i was writing this jesus, p in v, unprotected sex (do as sex ed tells you, not as i write), semi-public sex, riding, creampie, some emotional constipation cause it’s me, porn with a little too much plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: another purely self indulgent work...i just fucking love cowboys what can i say. it's practically ingrained in me by this point. logan would never dance but like who cares he's my barbie i can make him do whatever i want! kisses <3

dividers by angel @saradika-graphics!

a cowboy and the governor’s daughter walk into a barn...

The ranch is alive like you've never seen before, almost every acre lit up in celebration of your father's recent inauguration.

Twinkling lights strung around the barn's ceiling cast a warm orange glow all around you, flickering like fireflies on a summer night.

People are everywhere—laughing, mingling, drinking. Their faces both familiar and new, dressed in everything from head-to-toe denim to their Sunday best.

The lively music from the band floats through the space, couples on the makeshift dance floor twirling to the familiar twang of an acoustic guitar.

You take it all in from your spot against the wall, drink in hand as your eyes scan the room.

You did your share of mingling earlier in the evening, greeting the higher-up’s in your city with hugs and thanks.

You posed for pictures that’ll be splashed across the front pages of Monday’s paper, listened to your father’s speech as you stood by his side with a smile.

This is the first moment you've gotten to yourself since the ball started, one you've spent in content silence while enjoying the perks of an open bar.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing all by your lonesome?"

The honeyed rasp of a voice filtering in from your left paired with the jingling sound of spurs against the soft ground grabs your attention.

At first, you turn ready to greet a stray boutique or feedstore owner you may have missed earlier. You’re pleasantly surprised to see Marie sauntering towards you instead, a bright grin on her face that makes you smile right back.

Marie was one of the first people you met after moving to Texas at the beginning of your father's campaign, and you've only gotten closer since she started as a ranch hand down at Blackbird.

Her unruly red curls spill out from under her Stetson, the bouncy strands swinging in time with the white fringe of her show-shirt as she opens her arms.

"Thought you might have gotten lost in all the fancy folk," she teases, nearly crushing you with the strength of her hug.

You laugh as you hug her back, the warmth of her embrace a welcome interruption to your moment of peace and quiet. Her scent wraps around you, the familiar dust and lavender that's seeped into her clothes.

"Definitely not lost," you say, stepping back to meet her gaze. "Just taking it all in."

Marie smirks, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside you, crossing her arms as she watches the crowd.

"Sure is a good night for it," she says, glancing over at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Lookin' for anyone in particular? A nice night cap?"

You snort, taking another sip of your drink. Marie has always been more invested in your love life than you, hand picking guys from around town she deems worthy enough of your attention.

You know she means well, and it's almost as endearing as it is pesky, so you let her play matchmaker from time to time.

“I don’t need a night cap,” you laugh, shaking your head sluggishly. "I’m perfectly fine spending tonight alone."

Before Marie can respond, a stir from outside filters in. Loud cheers and hollers, hooves beating against dirt, the distinct whistle of a lasso slicing through the air.

Marie practically squeals, excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she peers through the barn doors. “It’s starting!”

You don’t have time to ask what ‘it’ is before she’s snatching up your wrist and turning to haul you outside.

"Marie! Where the hell are we going?" You practically trip over your own feet trying to keep up with her, your drink splashing up against the rim of your glass precariously.

Marie laughs as she pulls you out into the cool evening air, her boots crunching on the gravel as she drags you toward the commotion. “You’ll see!”

You weave through the crowd forming around the training ring, Marie’s grip still tight around your wrist as she pushes toward the front until you’re right up against the railing. 

You peer over it, eyes adjusting to the floodlights surrounding the ring, illuminating the clouds of dust kicked up by the different ranch hands perched on horses.

A few riders take turns showing off their skills, each of them in the same show-shirt as Marie, expertly swinging lassos and wrangling cattle with practiced ease.

The energy is contagious, and you find yourself smiling, soaking in the excitement pulsing through the crowd.

Marie leans closer, her voice low and laced with something knowing. “Just wait for it, honey. It’s about to get good.”

You give her a puzzled look, but she’s already grinning ear to ear, her attention fully focused on a new rider that chargers into the ring.

You follow her gaze, and your breath catches in your throat.

He rides in like he owns the place, his coal black horse cutting through the fog of dirt like a shadow, sleek and powerful beneath him.

A black Stetson sits low over his face, casting shadows that only add to the rugged allure of his jawline, a jawline that could cut glass. 

As he leans forward to grab the rope tossed at him by one of the other riders, his muscles flex, a kind of strength that isn’t there for show, but for real work.

His show-shirt is stretched over the width of his chest, over broad shoulders that look like they were carved from stone, made for lifting hay bales and hundred pound feed bags.

The sleeves rolled up to expose forearms dusted with dark hair and more than a few scars. His gloved hands rest on the reins with an ease that tells you he’s more than familiar on a saddle.

He’s not the flashiest rider, but there’s something commanding in his presence as he races his horse towards the steer, lasso circling high above his head.

He doesn’t even look like he’s trying to put on a show—he is the show.

Marie’s grip on your wrist tightens, and she leans in again, her voice loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

“That’s Logan,” she says, practically glowing with pride. ”He’s the foreman down at Blackbird, might just be the best damn cowboy in the whole state.”

You blink, hardly able to tear your gaze away from Logan, who’s riding like he’s part of the horse, one seamless, commanding figure cutting through the chaos in the ring. 

His focus is sharp, and as his lasso snaps through the air, catching the steers back leg in a clean loop, the crowd erupts in applause.

A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, a glimmer of amusement flashing beneath the shadow of his hat.

Marie nudges you, her grin widening as she catches the look on your face. “Told you he was worth watching,” she teases, winking. “And he’s got a bit of a reputation for bein’ hard to impress—one of those strong, silent types, y’know?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little faster as Logan turns his horse, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before it lands on you.

Your cheeks warm under his stare, trying to subtly make out the different features of his face from this far. His head tilts just slightly, as if he’s sizing you up from across the ring.

For a second, it feels like the two of you are the only ones there. The cheers from the audience dulling into white noise all around you, everything in your peripheral blurring together—everything but him.

“He’s good…” Your voice has gone light, airy as you watch Logan turn his horse back to lead the steer into the ring's stall with all the others. 

Marie's grin only widens as she leans against the post, clever eyes trained on the side of your face. "You still 'perfectly find spendin' the night alone'?"

You don't respond, too busy watching the strong muscle of Logan's back ripple under his shirt as he rides out of the ring—to your complete dismay—almost as fast as he rode in.

You're only snapped out of your trance when you can't make out his silhouette any longer. The crowd around you dissipates, filtering back into the barn while you're stuck to the fence straining your eyes for broad shoulders and a black cowboy hat.

“Show’s over, sugar.” Marie says with a snort, gently tugging you away from the post. “Come on, let’s get you another drink.”

You lost your company ten minutes ago, but you knew you didn’t stand a chance when Remy found the two of you huddled at the bar.

Sheepishly coming up to Marie with his hat in his hand, pressing it to his chest as he asked her for a dance.

You waved them off with a smile, assuring Marie you'd be fine on your own for a couple songs.

It gave you a chance to step out for some fresh air, to lean against the side of the barn and sneak a cigarette while your father was busy dancing with the town's best real estate agent money can buy.

You take a slow drag, eyes peering up at the stars so you can trace the constellations. You think that this might just be your favorite part of the move. 

Nevada has never been known for its clear skies, you can count the times you’d been able to see the stars on one hand.

You still remember the first night after you settled into your new house, the stress of the move and your fathers inauguration weighed on you enough that sleep was hard to come by. 

You finally crept out of bed around three, climbing over your balcony to perch yourself on the roof, carton of cigarettes and a lighter shoved in the waistband of your shorts.

The first time you looked out over the horizon was like stepping into a whole new world.

The stars had never felt so close, hung through the air like diamonds. So bright against the vast nothingness that stretched out beyond the too-big ranch house on the too-many acres the state appointed you and your father. 

It was like you could almost reach out and touch them, pluck them from the sky like fruit off a tree.

You’d been used to the city lights, the constant hum of noise that swallowed up the stars, but here? It was different. 

The air smelled of dust and rainwater, and the silence was louder than anything you’d ever known.

You remember the deep, quiet hum of the night, almost like it was waiting for you to catch up, to adjust to the new rhythm of the world you were suddenly a part of.

It was a moment of peace, a brief stillness from the mess crowding your head, and you found comfort in that isolation.

You take another long drag, letting the smoke curl around your fingers, the orange embers glowing bright against the darkness.

As the faint scent of tobacco mixes with the cool air, you find that same sense of peace returning, the same stillness settling over your chest.

You tilt your head back to rest on the barn, eyes fluttering shut as you let the crisp breeze lull you into its serenity.

"Those'll kill you, y'know."

A voice comes from just over your shoulder, warm and low. A smooth drawl ringing out from the shadows.

You slip your eyes open, expecting to see one of the older ranch hands or maybe even a city official looking to lecture the governor's kid. 

It takes you a second, but the black Stetson and squared shoulders register quickly enough—Logan. 

You nearly swallow your tongue, eyes widening as you take in the way he leans against the barn a few feet away from you. You don’t know how long he’s been standing there, watching you. 

The moonlight dances across his face, highlighting the rough line of his jaw and the confident tilt of his smirk.

“I didn’t think cowboys were one’s for giving lectures.” You’re shocked at the stillness of your voice, the beat of your heart picking up the tiniest bit.

Logan’s smirk only widens as he pushes off the wall, gravel crunching under his boots as he makes his way over to you, slow and deliberate. He’s still dressed in the same outfit from before, a lasso still coiled in one hand.

He comes to a stop next to you, leaning his shoulder just inches from yours. "Not usually. But when I see a pretty girl puffin' away on somethin' that's bound to ruin her, I make an exception."

You smirk, lifting the cigarette to your lips again just to make a point, even as your pulse jumps a little under his gaze. "Guess we all have our vices.” You say, blowing out the smoke slowly, watching the way his gaze tracks its lazy drift.

Logan’s eyes trail back to yours, and you can see the color of them now that he’s closer. A mix of different greens and browns fading together, like a forest in the thick of summer.

The lightest dusting of freckles decorate the bridge of his nose, trailing along his cheeks until they disappear under his beard, a product of being out in the sun so often.

You’re struck by how pretty he is, all long lashes and red lips.

Well, pretty for a cowboy anyway.

“You plan on sharin’?”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles from your chest, brow raising skeptically. “That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Logan just shrugs, a lazy half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I reckon’ it’s rude to let a lady smoke alone.”

You huff lightly, reaching into the pocket of your dress. You flick the top of your Marlboros open, slipping a cigarette out and offering it to Logan silently. 

He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours enough to send a spark through you. It travels up your arm and all around your shoulders to seep down through your entire body, resting in your stomach to swirl through the heat simmering there.

“Got a light?” He asks, words muffled around the filter.

You roll your eyes, but reach back into your pocket regardless. Logan leans closer as you flip your zippo open, taking his hat off to cover the side of his face, blocking the flame from the lazy breeze.

Your heart stutters in your chest as he nears closer. You didn’t expect he’d want you to light it for him. You will your hand to steady as you raise the flame to the tip, holding it close enough that the small light illuminates his face.

The intoxicating mix of leather and musk invades your senses. You fight the urge to lean into it entirely, to close the gap.

When the flame flickers and catches the end of his cigarette, Logan pulls back, taking a languid drag, the embers glowing between his lips.

His eyes don't leave yours as he exhales deeply, the smoke curling from his lips in slow tendrils. You can’t tell if it’s the nicotine or the way he’s looking at you that’s making your head spin.

You break eye contact, feeling the flush creeping up your neck, and lean back against the barn to cool yourself off. Logan leans beside you, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you, just the soft crackling of cigarettes and distant music filling the space between.

Logan puts his hat back on, his voice breaking through the quiet as he does. “You’re Governor Wright’s daughter, ain't you?”

You nod slowly, exhaling another long plume of smoke. It’s still weird hearing it out loud. “I am.”

Logan hums, turning his head to face you again. The silver moonlight catching the glint in his eye.

“Saw your picture in the paper.” His gaze rakes from the top of your head, all the way down to the tips of your boots. “Looked real nice.”

The air feels heavier as Logan’s eyes travel over you, lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle, before meeting your gaze again. His eyes hold a hint of amusement, the green of them darker than before. The heat swims through you faster, stronger.

“Congratulations.” He adds, almost like an afterthought. A quick pivot to take some attention away from how his eyes swept over your body so shamelessly.

You snort before you can stop yourself. If you had a dollar for every time you’ve heard that over the past few weeks. “Yeah,” you say, kicking at some rocks near your feet. “Thank you.”

You can see the way Logan’s brow raises out of the corner of your eye, his gaze burning a hole along your profile.

“Don’t sound too excited,” he comments, exhaling lazily. “That why you’re hidin’ out here?”

You shrug, leaning back against the barn and tapping your cigarette to shake off some ash. “Maybe I just like the quiet,” you say. “Or maybe I’m avoiding another round of ‘how proud are you of your daddy’ small talk.”

Logan stays quiet, and you feel the overwhelming need to explain yourself. A need to fill the silence, like he’s some kind of magnet that soothes the truth from people.

You sigh, turning your eyes to the dark sky again. “I’m happy for my dad, of course I am but…” You trail off, searching for the right words. “It’s just a lot.”

He chuckles lightly, a low rumble that feels more real than the sounds of laughter from inside the barn. “Hell, I don’t blame you,” he says, his eyes flicking up to the stars too. “Nothin’ wrong with takin' a breather now and then.”

You both stand there in comfortable silence, the night stretching out around you, as vast and open as the sky above. You let yourself study Logan out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way he seems at ease, like he’s as much a part of this land as the grass and stars.

Finally, he looks over, and you feel that sharp gaze settle on you again. “You keep starin’ like that,” he says, a teasing note creeping into his voice, “I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re more interested in somethin' other than the stars.”

Your mouth drops open slightly, heat rushing to your ears as you search for something to say.

Logan’s smirk widens as he catches the way your breath stutters, and for a moment, the silence is thick, the air between you charged. 

You force a laugh, trying to play it off, but it’s weak, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck again. "I—"

Back inside the barn, the band switches songs, saving you from your embarrassment. A softer melody floats through the air, slow and sweet as molasses. It’s muffled enough that it sounds almost hazy, like a soundtrack to the most wonderful dreams.

Logan turns to watch the shadows move in the light spilling through the open doors. Couples pairing off, taking to the dancefloor. All warm embraces and slow moving circles, swaying to the gentle beat.

He turns back to you, running his thumb over the coarse lasso in his hand. “Care for a dance?”

You raise your brow, skepticism written all over your face. “I don’t really do that.”

Logan doesn’t back down, tilting his head with an easy grin. “Seems like a waste not dancin’ in a dress like that.”

You can’t fight the smile that tugs your lips up, shaking your head with a quiet laugh as you peer down at the nice floral fabric of your sundress. The wind makes it swish along your sides, the flowy fabric swaying over the knee of your boots.

“Maybe another time, Logan.” You try to ignore how good his name feels rolling off your tongue.

He takes one last drag off his cigarette before he’s stubbing it out on the worn leather of his belt and slipping the butt in his jean pocket. It’s both the strangest and most endearing thing you’ve ever seen—a cowboy that refuses to litter.

“Well I’m gonna have to insist.” He crosses his arms over his chest, straining the fabric around his biceps. There’s a challenge in his eyes now, a dare.

“Oh, you’re insisting, are you?” You repeat doubtfully, lolling your head to the side languidly, your hair flowing with it. ”And how are you gonna do that?”

Logan doesn’t answer with words, just raises his arm to start twirling his lasso through the air with a smug grin. He circles once, twice, three times before a deft flick of his wrist sends the rope across the way to you. 

It slips over your shoulders, sliding down to catch on the curve of your hips.

You raise a brow, reluctant smile still playing on your lips. “Do you carry this thing with you everywhere you go?”

Logan cocks a brow, tugging on his end of the rope so it tightens around you, forcing you a step closer.

You stumble forward with a soft laugh, eyes darting up to meet Logan's. The lasso feels snug, but not tight enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he’s in control, and the thought sends a spark straight down to your core.

“You sure you don’t dance?” He tugs you a few steps closer, his smirk only deepening as he effortlessly reels you in.

You bite your lip to stifle a smile, shaking your head. “You sure are persistent, I’ll give you that.”

Logan doesn’t wait for you to say anything else, instead taking that final step forward. His grip tightens slightly on the lasso, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you. 

You can feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of your dress, his chest rising and falling with each slow, deliberate breath.

“Some would say it’s my best quality,” he teases quietly, voice dropping to something lower, like gravel and velvet. “Now, you gonna fight me the whole way through, or are we gonna dance?”

You glance up at him, your chest fluttering in spite of yourself. A thousand lame excuses run through your mind, but all you can manage is a breathless laugh, the sound caught somewhere between amusement and nerves.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you murmur, hands tentatively coming to rest on his shoulders. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Logan’s smile softens, his hand slinking around your hips to loosen the lasso, letting it slip down your legs so you can step out of it.

Big hands settle on your waist, brushing the soft fabric of your dress, sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. His touch is firm and gentle all at once, guiding you effortlessly into an easy sway.

The moment you fall into the rhythm of the music, your body moves naturally against Logan’s, and you can feel the charge between you intensify with each step.

His boots scrape against the dirt as he leads you in a slow, almost languid circle. Your feet match his without thinking, the sound of your boots in sync with the soft country tune playing from the barn.

“See? Not so bad, huh?” His voice is low, a soft whisper against the backdrop of the music.

You nod slowly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. The rough scrape of his jeans against your bare legs sends a delicious shiver skittering up your spine.

“Not so bad,” you agree, your voice quieter now, the playful edge slipping away as something deeper stirs between you.

You tilt your head up, breath catching in your chest when you find him already looking down at you. His lips quirk up slightly, but there’s a new intensity there now, something sharper than the teasing glimmer from before.

"Logan," you murmur, but your voice is barely a whisper, lost to the night air.

His free hand slides up the length of your spine, trailing along your neck until he’s cupping the side of your face. His thumb grazes your cheekbone with a gentleness you never thought men like him to be capable of.

The space between you shrinks even more as Logan dips his head, his nose brushing against yours in a featherlight touch that sends a shiver down your spine

“You gonna tell me to stop?” He murmurs, his lips so close now you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin.

Your throat works to form words, but they’re gone, stolen by the way his hands slide a fraction lower on your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

Your breath hitches again, and without thinking, you close the space, lips pressing against his, soft at first, unsure. Logan deepens it almost immediately, tugging you impossibly closer.

It’s tender–achingly so. Logan’s lips are surprisingly soft, he tastes like top-shelf whiskey and your Marlboro Golds. They mold to yours with a gentle pressure, warm and inviting. His hand on your face tilts your head slightly, angling you just right as his thumb continues to trace soft circles over your cheek.

The warmth of it spreads through you, settling low in your stomach, and you think you could stay like this the whole night, wrapped in the quiet safety of him.

All too soon, Logan’s pulling away. You whine pathetically, lips chasing his own. You’d be embarrassed if it wasn't for the pure need coursing through you.

“You were right,” he mutters lowly, running his thumb along the slick expanse of your bottom lip. “This is a hell of a lot better than dancin’.”

“Shut up.” You drag him back down by the fistfuls of his shirt, your own lips hungrily seeking out his again.

This kiss is different, something filthier, something messier. It’s like a dam breaking to let a rush of water break free, all the tension unraveling itself as you meet again.

The gentle tilt of Logan’s head changes, and when his teeth catch your bottom lip with just enough pressure, your knees feel dangerously close to buckling.

His hand slides down from your cheek, skimming your jawline before tangling into the hair at the nape of your neck. His tongue sweeps past your lips, and the taste of whiskey and smoke is heady, stronger, dizzying.

Logan’s mouth moves against yours with a confidence that makes your head spin, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You let out a soft, involuntary sound, and that only spurs him on, the hand in your hair tightening as he presses you back against the rough wood of the barn.

It digs into your body harshly, scratching at the bare skin of your shoulders and backs of your thighs. You hardly care.

Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, knocking his hat off so you can tug him closer as your tongues slide together lewdly. Logan groans into your mouth at the sting of his scalp, you can feel the rumble of it in your bones. 

His beard scratches against your chin and cheeks so deliciously that you can’t help but imagine where else it might rub your skin red and raw. The thought alone has a shudder running through you, your hips arching off the barn unconsciously.

The subtle grind when your hips slot together is enough to have Logan’s grip tightening around your hips. His fingers flexing where they’re still tangled in your hair. You moan softly at the hard length tenting his jeans, pressing insistently against your lower stomach, big even trapped in the rough denim.

Your body reacts to the thick plane of heat almost viscerally, your pussy aching with the need to be filled.

When you finally break apart, it’s only because neither of you can breathe.

Logan pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths that match your own. His pupils are blown wide, dark and intense. You dazedly think back to the sleek coat of his horse, black as ink and shining under the rings lights. 

His lips are an angry red and slightly swollen, glistening in the pale moonlight, and the sight of him—disheveled and wanting—sends another wave of heat blooming through your core to leak wet and sticky in your panties.

“Your daddy would shoot me between the eyes if he caught us like this, darlin’.”

You hide your pleased smile in the crook of his neck, trailing soft kisses from his jaw to his ear. “Then we should find somewhere a little more private, shouldn’t we?”

Logan groans, hands bunching the fabric of your dress in tight fists as your lips brush against the lobe of his ear with every word, teasing. “I reckon’ we should.”

You step back, fingers trailing down to toy with the shiny belt buckle sitting pretty on his waist. “Lead the way.”

Logan smirks, tongue swiping along his bottom lip. “Yes ma’am.”

He bends to grab his hat from where it lays at his feet, pushing his hair away from his eyes before dropping it back on his head. His hand finds the small of your back, turning to lead you away from the barn.

You try not to notice how well it fits. 

Turns out, ‘somewhere a little more private’ is just another barn. This one filled with stray mountains of hay and empty horse stalls instead of the watchful eyes of partygoers.

You can’t bring yourself to care, not when Logan’s got you pressed to the closed door, his hands roaming down your body like he’s memorizing every curve, every dip. 

“Christ, you’re somethin’ else,” Logan mutters, his voice thick with want as his lips ghost along the side of your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that make your knees shake.

His breath is hot against your ear when he adds, “Bet you’re soaked for me already, aren’t you, darlin’?”

The rough pads of his fingers drag along your bare thighs as he hikes your dress higher, the fabric bunching at your waist. The cool air kisses your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat between your legs as his palms knead the soft flesh. 

You bite your lip to stifle the embarrassing moan that threatens to escape, but he catches the sound anyway, pressing a cocky grin to the side of your cheek.

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now.” His hand slides between your thighs, calloused fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. 

The low groan that escapes him when he feels how wet you are is pure sin, vibrating against your neck as his fingers trace over the damp cotton. “Fuck, barely touched you and you’re already drippin’ for me.”

“Logan—” You start, but your words dissolve into a sharp gasp as he hooks a finger beneath the fabric, pulling it to the side.

The first drag of his finger through your slick folds has your head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. A high moan falls from your parted lips, embarrassing and needy as your thighs clench around his wrist.

Logan just hums, pressing a kiss to the corner of your slack mouth. “Is she hurtin’ real bad, baby?” he asks softly, his thumb pressed over your pulsing clit. “Just gotta give you some sweet kisses and she gets all worked up, huh?”

Your only response is a breathless whimper, your fingers clutching at his shoulders for stability as he teases you with slow, torturous circles around your clit.

His thick pointer finger slides through the slick seam of your pussy, catching on your dripping entrance before it’s sinking to the knuckle in one slow thrust. 

You arch into him, your hips rocking instinctively to take him deeper, desperate for more. His other hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek as his gaze locks onto yours. 

The intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip, your breath hitching as he watches every little expression cross your face.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he coaxes, sliding his finger in and out at a maddeningly slow pace. “Look at you, so fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ my fingers so good, baby.”

“Please,” you gasp, the need in your voice making his smirk widen.

“Please what?” he teases, curling his finger inside you and grinning when you nearly sob at the sensation. “Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

You whimper, thighs trembling as you manage to stutter out, “Kiss…kiss me.”

Logan groans, brows twitching up like that wasn’t what he was expecting to fall from your slick, kiss bitten lips. He doesn’t waste a second, leaning in to capture your mouth with his in a kiss that’s equal parts desperate and bruising. 

His lips part against yours, tongue sliding in to meet yours, hot and eager, as he sinks a second finger inside your clenching hole. 

The kiss deepens, becoming a rhythm of its own, each stroke of his tongue matching the languid thrust of his fingers.

Logan's lips move hungrily against yours, his pace never faltering even as his fingers curl inside you, searching, teasing, until—there.

The moment he brushes against that spot, your back arches off the barn wall, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat. He grins against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to murmur, “There she is.”

The slick sound of his fingers pumping into you fills the quiet barn, mingling with your soft, breathy whimpers. His thumb circles your clit with devastating precision, each pass of his fingers inside you coaxing your body closer to the edge.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, honey,” he groans, his voice rough and dripping with praise. “Can feel how close you are. Bet you’re gonna fall apart for me so pretty, aren’t ya?”

You shake your head, your breath coming in soft pants. “No.” Your hand snakes down to his wrist, halting his movements. “Wanna finish with you inside me.”

Logan stills, his breath catching as your words hang heavy in the air. His fingers stay buried inside you, the slight curl of them making your thighs quake as his eyes search yours.

The fire there burns hotter now, feral and barely restrained. 

“Yeah?” The raw hunger in his voice makes your pulse spike. “You want me inside you, huh? Wanna feel me stretch you open, baby?”

You nod eagerly, your chest heaving as his words fan the flames of your desire. 

“Alright,” he mutters darkly, voice gone low and smoky. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Logan slips his fingers from the warm grip of your pussy, the sudden emptiness stealing all the air from your lungs. You miss the stretch almost immediately, clenching around nothing with a soft moan.

He lifts his hand between you, his fingers glistening with your wetness in the dim light. “Look at that,” he says softly, almost in awe, before slipping his fingers into his mouth and groaning at the taste.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your cheeks burning at the sight. 

Logan catches your gaze, a wicked smirk spreading across his face as he leans in close. “C’mon,” he whispers softly against the skin of your neck, hands slipping around the backs of your thighs and squeezing gently. “Up.”

You hitch your legs up around his waist, a soft breath escaping you at the way he lifts you with ease, like you weigh nothing.

You can’t help but run your hands over the thick muscle of his biceps as he walks you further into the barn, lips trailing wet kisses along where his shirt’s top button popped open, exposing more of his tan skin to your greedy eyes.

Logan falls back against a knocked over bale of hay, you feel the hot length of his hard cock grinding over the slick fabric of your panties as he positions you over his lap.

You waste no time, stray pieces of hay digging into your knees as your trembling hands reach for his buckle. Your fingers brush over the cool metal as you fumble sliding the worn leather through his belt loops.

Logan just watches you, leaning back on his forearms with a smirk—cool as ever.

Once his belt is undone and his zipper dragged down, you shove at his jeans, watching with a mix of anticipation and desire as his cock springs free, thick and heavy and already leaking for you. 

You’ve heard the expression ‘hung like a horse’ countless times. You always thought it was a gross exaggeration, until now.

Logan’s hand glides down his stomach to start stroking himself lazily, his eyes never leaving yours. “Been hard since the second I laid eyes on you tonight. Could barely keep my hands to myself, watchin’ you all dolled up like that. Drove me fuckin’ crazy.”

Your mouth waters with the need to taste, eyes tracking the thick line of pre-come leaking from his flushed tip. 

The phantom ache in your jaw almost has you dropping to your stomach right there, but you know that your time here is limited, and you need Logan inside of you more than anything.

You lean back, lifting your legs so you can shimmy your soaked panties down and off, tossing them behind you haphazardly the same way you tossed his belt.

His eyes are locked onto yours as you crawl back towards him, situating yourself over his lap all over again. You take a steadying breath as you reach for his cock, nearly moaning at the heft of it in your hand, at the near scalding touch of his silky skin against your palm.

“Hang on, baby.” Logan’s hands fall to your hips, stopping you just as the tip of his cock brushes against your dripping pussy. “You wanna ride, you gotta look the part.”

He drags his hands lower, calloused palms rough against the soft skin of your thighs. It’s enough to make you shiver, hips twitching down with the desperate need to be filled.

“Got the boots,” he murmurs idly, thumbs sliding along the back of your thighs. “Just need the hat.”

Logan reaches up to grab his hat by the crown, pulling it off his head to drop it on yours.

You left out a soft breath, feeling the worn felt settle on the top of your head, still warm from his own.

It’s too big, slipping down to shadow your eyes. Logan’s gaze darkens as he adjusts it, tipping it back just enough to frame your face.

“Much better,” he says, flicking the brim once before his hands fall back to your hips. “Alright cowgirl, give it to me good.”

The words shoot straight to your core, igniting something wild and reckless inside you.

You bite your lip, spurred on by the way his hands knead the meat of your hips. Not forcing or pushing, just two steady weights as you slowly start to sink down.

It's nearly torturous, but in the best way possible. The stretch of each inch a pleasant burn as your hips slot against his after what feels like an eternity.

“Fuck.” Logan grits out, his hands tightening on your hips as you settle, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the overwhelming fullness. 

Your body trembles, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you slowly begin to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles.

Logan’s eyes track every movement, darkened with need, a quiet groan slipping from him as his hands slide lower, gripping your ass, urging you to pick up the pace.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “Takin’ it all so good.”

His praise only encourages you, and you lift yourself up before sinking back down, your hands gripping the scratchy fabric of his shirt for leverage.

The feeling of him filling you up, stretching you with every downward movement, makes your head swim, the pressure building in your core.

The barn is filled with the sounds of skin slapping together lewdly, with the wet gush of your pussy leaking around the base of his cock messily. It has your ears burning, shame and arousal a heady mix in your lower belly.

Logan’s hips start to rise from the barn floor, snapping up to meet yours with every bounce. You can feel him deeper like this, brushing against places that make your legs shake with pleasure. 

You’re dangerously close to the edge already, a mess from all the teasing earlier. But from the way Logan’s muscles flex and tense beneath you, you can tell he is too.

“Goddamn,” he growls, his hands moving to grip your thighs, helping you bounce on top of him impossibly faster. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby, so fucking perfect. Don’t stop.”

His words make your head spin, the filthy praise sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. You can’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

Your hands scramble for the front of his shirt, tugging and pulling until it’s loose enough to show off the toned muscle of his chest.

You rake your nails through the dark hair decorating his skin, hardly paying any attention to the brand burned into the skin across his left pec.

"Tell me how it feels," he groans, his voice dark and commanding. "Tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel."

"So good," you manage to gasp, your voice breaking as he grinds against that perfect spot inside you. "Logan, I—"

“You’re close,” he rasps, his grip on your hip tightening as he drives into you harder. “I can feel you, baby. So fuckin’ close. Gonna come for me, aren’t ya? Gonna milk my cock like a good girl?”

You’re too far gone to answer, your body trembling as the coil in your stomach clenches, tighter and tighter. Your head lolls back to the ceiling, eyes fluttering shut as you near the edge.

"C’mon honey," Logan groans, his thumb finding your clit again, circling it in time with his thrusts. “Come for me, let it all fuckin’ out.”

You're helpless to deny him, the thick stretch of his cock paired with the gentle pressure of his thumb on your clit tightening your body like a bowstring threatening to snap.

 “Logan—oh God—Logan!” Your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping as your walls shake around him.

Logan’s hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as he groans low in his throat. “Goddamn,” he growls, his voice wrecked. “So fuckin’ perfect, squeezin’ me so tight—fuck—”

With a few more rough thrusts, he buries himself as deep as he can go, his body going rigid against yours as he finds his own release, groaning your name like it’s the only word he knows.

You slump onto him gracelessly, your body spent and trembling as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His cock jumps and pulses inside you, sending little aftershocks through your sensitive core as you feel the slick spray of his come painting your walls.

The rough fabric of his shirt feels oddly comforting on the overheated skin of your cheek as you rest your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath.

The brand catches your eye again, more pronounced now that the wiry hair dusted along his chest lays flush, slick with a thin sheen of sweat.

You raise your hand, gently tracing over the raised skin, feeling the rough texture under your fingertips. A curved ‘X’ scarred right over his heart. 

The same ‘X’ that was embroidered on the front of Marie’s shirt, that hangs above the doors of the very barn you lay in, that’s scattered all throughout the property.

You read once that not all cowboys choose the brand, only the most loyal to the ranch. A kind of fierce loyalty that knows no bounds, that has no limits—it may be the only loyalty most will ever know.

You think back to your grandmother sitting you down at her weathered kitchen table a few days before your father and you made the move. The stern talking to she gave you felt silly at the time, useless information that you’d never actually need.

Now that you're here, her words ring in your ears for the first time in months, blaring and unavoidable.

“Don’t go and get mixed up in any cowboy business, honey. They’ll never love you more than the life, you’ll always be in the rearview mirror.”

Logan takes your hand in his, bringing it from his chest to his lips for a quick kiss before pointedly lowering it to his jean clad thigh. You can feel the way his fingers flex around your wrist, telling.

You swallow hard, the air in the barn suddenly feeling thick and heavy.

You're pushing yourself to your feet before you even realize what you're doing, ignoring the dull ache as his spent cock slips from inside you.

Logan hisses at the sensation, but he's pushing himself to his feet all the same. You're dying to sneak a peek at the look on his face, but you refuse to turn to him.

Maybe out of shame, maybe out of fear for what you might find if you do.

You straighten the wrinkled fabric of your dress, trying in vain to make yourself look as half as presentable as you did before walking into this barn.

The distant sound of a zipper being tugged up and the whisper of denim against denim catches your attention. Your eyes flick to the doors, your brain going a million miles a minute as you consider your options.

You could always beat him to it. You could walk out right now and pretend this never happened, avoid Blackbird like the plague for the rest of your fathers political career.

You doubt you'd ever see Logan outside these fences, it would be so easy to forget.

You shift on your feet, lip caught between your teeth. The sweet ache between your legs only matches the one in growing your chest, all those good feelings sour at the thought of walking away.

Against your better judgment, you turn back to him. 

Logan’s already looking at you, hands busy with slipping his belt back into place.

You’ve always been good at reading people, at gauging what they might be feeling, but as your eyes scan along the flushed skin of his face, you find yourself unable to describe what you see swirling in his eyes.

“When will I see you again?” It’s weak, barely a whisper. You want to kick yourself for sounding so small, for getting so caught up in a man you hardly know.

Logan lets out a soft breath, hands coming to rest on his hips as he searches for something to say. “Whenever you have a reason to I reckon'.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you.

His answer is honest, unpolished—just like him. Something about it hits you deeper than you expect, a bittersweet sting that tightens your chest.

It’s not a perfect answer, but it’s something. 

You try to stomp down all the feelings of hope filling your mind, pointedly ignoring the eruption of butterflies in your stomach.

“Well if that’s the case,” you say slowly, eyes never leaving Logan’s as you step closer. “Then I guess you better keep these.”

You reach around his waist to slip your panties in the back pocket of his jeans, patting the denim a few times for good measure before you step away again.

“Gives you a reason to come see me again, cowboy.”

Logan chuckles, soft and sweet as he shakes his head bemusedly. He raises his hand, gently taking his hat from your head to drop it back on his own.

“You’re really somethin’ else,” he mutters, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, the gesture tender in its unexpectedness.

You let out a shaky breath, heart pounding in your chest, and for a moment, everything feels raw.

Too raw. Like you're teetering on the edge of something dangerous and intoxicating, something you’re not sure you’re ready to handle.

You let your gaze drop to the floor, biting the inside of your cheek as you resist the urge to say something else, to push the moment further.

Instead, you turn, taking a slow step toward the barn doors.

Just before you reach them, you hear him again, his voice steady, but there’s something in it that makes you pause, hands lingering on the doorframe.

"Don’t be a stranger, alright?" he calls after you.

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes one last time. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

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

mini nat's note: lowkey want to make this a series...like this was so fun to write and i have a few more ideas...let me know chickens <3

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Happy New Year!

Ah, this year has been so wonderful! Sharing my writing again has been such a great experience, and I'm thrilled with the growing community we've created!! Here's to next year with much more love of Jason Todd 💙 ~ 800 words

Gotham is alive on New Years. Every occupied apartment, every sleazy club, and every upstanding venue pounds with music and laughter and a quiet, hopeful idea that the year that comes will be better.

Drinks are plenty, and the food is delicious for anyone invited (or quick enough to sneak into) The Wayne New Year Spectacular Gala. There's a not-so-secret surprise fireworks show planned, and you've heard from the source just how hard it was to secure permits, so you can only guess how extravagant they're going to be tonight.

But you're sure it's going to be beautiful, so sure, in fact, you've left the warmth of your apartment and the comfort of your tv to sit on the rooftop to enjoy them. Armed with more than a couple of blankets, a thermos, and a couple snacks stuffed in the pockets of your hoodie, you hardly feel the December chill in the air.

It's peaceful, even as the last few minutes of the year start to tick down, there's an excitement that makes your heart pound. It's almost perfect, almost picturesque.

And then it is.

Boots hit the concrete and you turn your head just in time to see Jason pulling off his helmet, an easy, happy grin on his face despite his accusing words, "You're gonna freeze out here."

You match his smile, eyes lighting up as he saunters over to you to sit down and press his weight and warmth to your side, "Don't you have patrol?"

He hums, more interested in throwing an arm over your shoulder to draw you closer than the criminals he's supposed to be chasing after, "I have some time. Batgirl drew the short straw, and she can handle whatever Calendar Man came up with."

You nearly giggle at the thought, "I think the news said something about a clock?"

Jason drops his head to rest it on top of yours, idly rubbing his hand up and down your arm to stave off the cold, "It's cliché, whatever he's doing. The real question is why you're out here."

"Fireworks are supposed to go off at midnight," you mumble, draping your blanket over his legs in return for his touch, "Supposed to be the biggest show Gotham's ever seen."

"That so," he questions, leaning back slightly to grin at you, eyes narrowing like he knows something you don't, "I guess that's useful."

"Why's that," You ask, torn between keeping your eyes on the skyline in anticipation or watching the way his adoring gaze flickers over your face.

"Then I'll know when to kiss you," he tells you, clearly proud of his revelation.

It's corny, and so cheesy that you have to laugh and elbow his arm, "Are you asking me to be your New Year's kiss, Casanova?"

He nods, eager as he catches your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, "I am asking, but I'm not above begging either."

You open your mouth to tease him more, to really make him work for your kisses, even if you are happy to give them. At least you were, until flashes of color fill the sky– yellows, purples, reds, blues, and greens light up his face in a myriad of shining lights.

The bangs and pops of the fireworks don't register as Jason tilts his head at you, voice going from smug to low and reverent, "Happy New Year, sweetheart."

He's beautiful in the rainbow of colors filling the night sky, and you're hit with such a wave of fondness– gratefulness– love– that you surge forward to kiss him.

He kisses you back just as eagerly, one hand cradling your face so gently you can't help but melt into him. Kissing him always takes your breath away, but this feels special– more– a beginning to a year with so much promise, and all with him.

You finally pull when your lungs start to burn, "Happy New Year, Jason," you breathe out, "I love you."

He wears the same expression every time he hears you say it. Awe paints his face as he traces his thumb over your cheek, "I love you," he echoes, pressing his forehead to yours.

You revel in his touch for a moment before turning to watch the lights, curling into him as he kisses the crown of your head. It's sweet, blissful, more than you could ever dare to dream of.

Jason tugs you closer to his side, squeezing you once, then twice as he focuses his attention back towards the fireworks. The cheers that sound through the Gotham air ring in the New Year, and when the sparkling lights start to fill the sky with such brightness it almost seems like day, you know the year that comes next will be full of love– of him– and all the good that comes with it.

[styona]

I love the fact that Terzo is basically perceived as this Casanova typa guy, but his Monstrance Clock speech literally begins with 'look here's a hole in my shoe', like feel free to teach me your ways, honey, cause it sure sounds like helluva convincing seduction technique.

Also the 'pretty ripping, right?', I'm fkn done with him, serously

Cr.: Michael Griffey on YouTube

[bengiyo]

My Universe Ep 1.1: Casanova Begins Stray Thoughts

Let's begin this year's Close Friend, Top Secret Together, or Gen Y variety BL project. The iQIYI naming convention is weird since they're saying 12 episodes about 11 couples. I may adjust my naming along the way.

There are a lot of boys in this. It's so many when you see the scroll of them all.

I'm going to presume that this story is called Casanova Begins for now.

Off to an odd start. Our protagonist was shocked yesterday during an electrical event, and now has lost two years worth of memories.

Wait. Now he's dead and in possession of another body? He can't tell anyone or he has 24 minutes left to live? Oh, Thai BL.

This already feels messy. Kim seems like he was messing around with a brother and a sister, and then was flirting with someone else at a bar?

There are a lot of references to an internal history I am not aware of. Seems like Pleum was with Khao, but has been dead for two years?

Oh, they're explaining. Whew. Kim is a player. Pluem was killed two years ago.

Oh whoa wtf was that with Khao's reaction to the card? What did Kim do to him?

Now Pluem is pursuing his former boyfriend from Kim's body, and Khao has many valid reasons to not be into him at all. Girls, this is messy.

So we're gonna have Kim be a romantic lead in their MV opposite the girl we've convinced he's over?

This concept is very weird. I'm glad this won't be an 8-12 episode affair.

Sounds like Pluem was a jealous boyfriend.

The previews show this is going to get weirder.

My goodness. I hope all of these stories aren't as strange. I felt like I was working hard to keep everyone's perspectives straight the entire episode.

[blackdollette]

"i fell for another loser." | spencer reid

in my feelings. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: it didn't take a genius to detect when something was wrong with spencer...

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords

⊹₊⋆ pairing: bau!female!reader x spencer

⊹₊⋆ word count: 651

⊹₊⋆ contents: nervous spencer, slight tension, a little fluff

you quietly placed a hot, coffee-filled cup beside the two empty ones on spencer’s desk, the slight click sound it made as it hit the hardwood making his head jerk up. this was the third time he has dozed off like this, and it was only 11 in the morning.

he rubbed his eyes, his hair falling in disheveled tufts over his face as you leaned against his desk. 

“thanks… again.”

you nodded. “anytime.”

he picked up the cup, looking up at you. “blonde espresso with two teaspoons of sugar, right?”

you rolled your eyes. “this is my third delivery of the day. i even opted adding a quart of sugar.”

he mustered a little laugh, taking a long sip with a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair as he set the cup back down, starting to fidget with his thumbs like a nervous child. you were still standing there, confused at his unkempt disposition.

“something keeping you up at night, spence? i’ve never seen you this… disordered before.”

he locked eyes with you, hastily trying to fix his hair as he shook his head. “n-no, i’ve just…” he hesitated. “it’s nothing.”

your mouth nearly curled into an amused smile. on a normal day, you wouldn’t even need to ask spencer before he began telling you all the things he dreamt of and all the ways he would spend his evening. you wanted to pry, but didn’t want to strain him any further.

“well, you know where i am if you wanna talk.”

you smiled and gave him a half wave, heading to the exit door of his office. as you began to turn the handle, he blurted out quickly. “do you have any idea why i can’t get a date?”

you turned around slowly, raising an eyebrow. “maybe because i’ve never seen you ask a girl out, casanova.”

his cheeks flushed a little as his head angled downward, staring intensely at the ground. the realization suddenly hit you like a freight train.

“oh… is that what’s been keeping you up at night? you… like a girl..?”

spencer swallowed hard, nodding just a little. “i guess you could put it that way.”

you two fell silent for a moment, spencer not even being able to look you in the eye. he was blushing like an embarrassed school boy and could barely formulate a single sentence. 

you cleared your throat to break the silence. 

“so… you got any plans for her?”

spencer nodded, shuffling around a few papers on his desk. “y-yeah. i got her and i tickets to a ball game, reservations to her favourite restaurant, and… i was gonna ask her to be my girlfriend.”

your heart would’ve warmed up if the lump growing in your throat hadn’t appeared first. “wow, it looks like you’ve got the whole night planned.” it was your turn to fidget with your thumbs. “i-is she pretty..?”

spencer finally loosens up at that question, a full smile breaking out on his face. “that doesn’t begin to cover it.”

you nodded, feeling a stab of insecurity in your chest, but you masked it with an endearing smile. “well to the looks of it, you’ve got a plan, you’ve set everything up, and it seems that you really like her. so go ahead and ask. i promise that no girl could ever say no to you. and if she does, you’re way out of her league.”

spencer’s eyes grew a little misty, along with yours. your hand fell to the door handle once again, turning it slowly.

“good luck, spence…”

god, that nickname, the one that no one else in the world ever used. the butterflies in spencer’s stomach had increased significantly. he knew that it was now or never.

his voice coming out shakier than ever stopped you in your tracks as you began to leave the room.

“so, uh, a-are you free this saturday..?”

author's note: ugh.

[starhvney]

accidentally unfollowed when i was requesting

but anyways!

could i have tea, with cream and a warm pretzel :3 for mcd laurance pleek

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: romantic tension, fluff, festival

𝐚/𝐧: hahah i saw that notification and was like …wait a minute. anyways, i HAD to write about pre-shadow knight laurance because i love him and want to bite his cheeks, so here he is! and thanks for refollowing me lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The sound of laughter and chatter over crickets and the local band fills your ears and swirls around your head, the smell of food from the vendors and the twinkling lights above lulling you into a peaceful state in the midst of the Meteli festival.

“There you are…” A familiar, suave voice coos from behind you, fingers rough from training dancing gracefully along your shoulder to call your attention. “And beautiful as always.”

Long, copper-toned hair cascades over broad shoulders, and with green eyes twinkling and a handsome smirk tugging on his sun-kissed face, you find yourself looking at Meteli’s charming head guard. Ugh, you hate how easily he can stir up that fluttery feeling in your chest, and the blush that makes its way to the apples of your cheeks when he gently brings one of your hands to his lips in greeting.

“Ah, it seems the ‘Casanova’ of Meteli has finally found some time for me,” you tease (despite the slight twinge of discomfort you feel at the idea of him spending this night with any other woman).

He wrinkles his nose at the nickname, before dramatically closing his eyes and tilting his head in dismay.

“I invited you. Of course I’d want to make time for you. How your words wound me, my love. Unless…” he smirks, looking at you through thick lashes. Mischief twinkles in his eye, and you brace yourself for his next words. “Unless you’re jealous?”

“Oh, please.” You’re quick to defend yourself, cursing the blood that betrayed you by flooding into your face. “You wish.”

He tilts his head back, chuckling and breaking out into a full smile at your quick words.

You couldn’t deny, while his strong pursuit for your affections that started almost immediately after your first meeting was off-putting and a bit questionable, all of the lovely words and flower petals pressed into letters meant just for you… it was hard to resist his charm. 

“Oh, how I do,” he says, eyes full of mirth. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. “Though, my lady, if you’re feeling generous, could you be so kind as to spare me a dance under the stars tonight?”

Your heart rate picks up, and you spare a glance to the center of the plaza, where people were breaking away from the cheerful Saltarello dancing and making way for couples to slow dance to a more romantic tune.

“I…” you trail, suddenly feeling more nervous than you usually do around him.

“It would make my whole evening,” he admits, voice softer—-more genuine as he leans down to catch your eye. “In fact, it would make my whole week. No, I’ll think of it for a year!—”

“If I agree, will you stop talking about it like that?” you bite the inside of your cheeks, trying to calm the heat radiating from them.

He laughs again. “Anything for you, my love.”

When you give him one more approving nod he doesn’t hesitate to pull you towards the center of the plaza, an eager smile spreading across his lips. The lanterns are all gathered in a harmonious glow above you when he comes to a stop and twirls you into his arms. The music is louder here, drowning out the chatter and noise of the festival, creating a small word of its own in the middle of chaos.

As if the band were waiting just for the two of you to join, once he cups your hand in his and holds your waist in the other, the song swells for the dance to begin. 

You fall in step with him, Laurance guiding your feet across the cobblestones below as if it were as simple as breathing. Your brain has to work overtime to keep up with him, and a part of you wonders how he learned to dance so well like this; If he had serenaded many women before you, spinning them around and whispering sweet nothings in their ears with that charming smile before moving on to swoon the next.

Surely he’d have many dance partners to choose from, yet he had taken the time to write you yet another letter full of flowery words, wishing and hoping you’d take the time to come celebrate with him this evening. You let out a silent sigh at your internal conflicting thoughts, not noticing the observant green eyes that focused on the furrow in your brow and slight pout on your lips. 

“I’m surprised you indulged my invitation on such short notice.” He leans in to say, an eyebrow quirking as he fills your vision, forcing you to look at nothing but him.

You flinch, for a split moment fearing if somehow he was able to read your mind. “Well, you were quite adamant in your letter. I’d feel guilty if I turned you down. I could say I was surprised as well at the sentiment.”

The corners of his lips quiver, and for a small moment you catch his face fall before he smiles again.

“I was more than overjoyed to see you stepping into town, my love.” He extends his arms to spin you around, before pulling you back into his embrace. “I had to stop myself from cheering in front of all the townspeople. They may doubt their head guard’s abilities if they knew you alone could elicit such a reaction from him.”

You can’t help but push him further, curiosity and the satisfactory tingle that you were the only one he found interest in eating away at your ability to be subtle any longer.

“I thought you would have had many dance partners to choose from this evening.”

“Jealous?”

“You wish.”

His lips twitch, and he can’t help but to throw his head back for a bout of fond laughter. “I do… I do wish…”

He sighs, before continuing.

“And to answer your question, I may have many options, but in my mind there’s only one.” He tilts his head, intentionally directing a look at you. There’s a pause of hesitation, before he lowers his voice. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve always been too awkward to pursue anyone outside of playful teases? That you truly are the only one I want to be this close to?”

You suck in a breath, eyes widening when you find yourself being dipped in his arms. The lanterns above form a halo around his head, and your breath hitches when one of his hands drag yours across the opening in his shirt and onto the bare skin of his chest. 

The thrum of his heartbeat under your fingertips is rapid, an undeniable reaction to the proximity between the two of you. He stares at you intently—-and while he was a man of many words, this time he says nothing, instead letting the rushing blood to his cheeks and the almost nervous quiver of a smile on his lips speak more. 

This is because of you.

The song has ended, and Laurance reluctantly pulls you up to stand straight again. A beat of silence between the two of you passes, and after swallowing thickly, he bows to you with a charming smile once again.

“Shall we explore the rest of this festival together? I don’t think my heart can’t handle parting from you just yet, lovely.”

“...Yes, I would love to.”

It was hard to ignore the envious eyes that followed you as he gracefully whisked you through the crowd. But when you glance up at Laurance, he doesn’t even seem to notice they exist, his hands tight on yours and eyes trained forward with a bright, almost giddy and childlike expression on his face. The satisfied, almost smug feeling was hard to deny at the realization; that you were the only one occupying his thoughts right now.

Maybe, behind all that bravado, there’s a sweet, genuine man that you could find yourself falling in love with…

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

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[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Tamaki's Unwitting depression~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: For a group of hosts some club members are only just realising what love feels like ➼ what to expect:  "Darling I have been doing this long before we met" ➼ warnings: n/a ➼ Part Twenty one | Part Twenty three

Tamaki's Unwitting Depression!

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"Peeping tom!" "You saw-" "-Didn't you Bossa Nova?"

Kasanoda is leaning against the door to support himself under shaking legs "No, I didn't see! I mean, I caught a glance, yeah, but it was all so fast that I didnt- It was just an accident I swear to you that i'm not a pervert!"

"Of course you would say that, sure sign of a guilty conscience" Honey chooses to be menacing for once.

Kasanoda finally manages to pick himself up "So then, fujioka's a girl?"

"Red alert, he's onto Haruhi's little secret" "That's not good, so let's hear it"

"How much of her maidenly terra incognita did you actually see?"

"Well she was changing so i saw her underwear"

The twins begin to freak out "You saw Haruhi's underwear?" Tamaki gasps, clearly on the verge of a crisis

"So what do we do?" "There's only one thing to do. We have to induce amnesia" Kaoru grabs Kasanoda so that Hikaru can batter up to hit him.

"That's enough you two" Kyoya steps forward, arriving slightly late along with you. "Leave assault and battery to the professionals"

"What are you made of ice? how can you be so calm about this? I bet if it was y/n you'd make a big deal"

"Look! The boss is so deep in shock, he's regressing" Hikaru points to tamaki who is practically comatose at this point.

Kyoya sighs, pushing up his glasses "Well, now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag, let's talk, Haruhi is compelled to hide the fact that she's a girl due to certain mitigating circumstances. While we can't physically force you to cooperate exactly, there is something i would like for you to bear in mind. Coming from the type of family you do I'm certain you hear all sorts of juicy little rumors, enough to know what's true and what is not. Take the Ootori family's private police force, the black onion squad, it is said that they can be mobilised against our enemies in the blink of an eye. You have heard of them right?"

Haruhi finally steps out, now dressed "Come on guys, stop scaring Casanova. Sorry about all this. Look it's alright, it doesn't matter to me you can tell whoever you want to"

"Well well bossa nova" "Since you know she's a girl, are you in love?"

Kaoru's question seems to break Tamaki sending him spiralling. You lean over to Kyoya "You're getting quite good at this now" you whisper. He smirks "Darling I have been doing this long before we met"

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You had to admit that you did not expect Kasanoda to return the next day, you certainly did not expect him to waltz in, sit down and request haruhi. Even the girls started freaking out not to mention renge who rises up out the floor once again.

"The geniune article, at last"

The girls run up "Renge, is it true? is he really" "Could he rally be that kind of persuasion?"

You lean forward in your seat, taking a sip of coffee "Well this certainly is an interesting twist" You note, although Kyoya was not taking much notice, too busy filing through old Ootori hospital documents.

"Hello Kasanoda, so you're our guest today huh?" Haruhi happily wanders over with a teaset, sitting next to him. You sigh as you realise she has no clue why he's here.

"Uh, that's right"

"Would you like to have some tea? How much sugar do you usually have?"

"Let me help!"

"Now, now, you're our guest it's okay" Haruhi pours him a cup "So, tell me, is this your first time in place like this?"

"You sure have this down huh?"

"Trust me it did not come naturally at all, at least not a first but then I realised if i just sat back and had fun with it, everthing sort of fell into place on it's own"

The twins, more particularly Hikaru was growing increasingly frustrated "Hey don't just sit there Kyoys-senpai, get him out of here!" "If he's getting along with his goons so well now, why does he need to be here in the first place?"

Kyoya shrugs "He has kept Haruhi's secret so far, and as he is afterall a paying guest I can see no reason to eject him."

"But the other guests are afraid!"

You laugh "Oh no I think not, just look" You nod over to the girls fawning over the scene.

"Hello sumire? Forget about your stupid violin lesson, I'm telling you this is a one in a million chance to witness something truly amazing!"

"see? We're just fine, thanks to him, we may even set a new record" Kyoya adds. "You money grabbing enabler"

You all look back over to Haruhi and Kasanoda "Would you like another cup of tea?"

"Uh, yes, Thank you"

"Oh no she's giving him that adorable smile" "The one that no man can resist"

You raise an eyebrow "No man? Or just you two and Tamaki?" The twins gape at you.

"Wow, usually you guys wouldn't waste any time interrupting the two of them" Honey watches in awe "Yeah, but our hands are tied, after our screw up in Karuizawa Haruhi would never forgive us if we butted in" "Karuizawa was really your screw up Hikaru"

The twins turn back to Tamaki "Hey boss? Are you done being shell shocked yet?" "Yeah we could really use our king right about now" They drag him up "Go get him!" They yell, throwing him upwards.

"Tamaki-senpai?" Haruhi questions as he robot walks his way up to the two of them. "Um just what exactly are you doing?" He moves between the two of them.

"Hey if you want to sit down do it there" Haruhi moves him "You can play with this as a distraction. It's a little freebie I got at the supermarket when i went for instant coffee earlier" Tamaki fiddles with the trinket, mechanically unlooping them "Look, I solved it haruhi"

"wow that was fast, okay, now try and see if you can put them back together" Tamaki fiddles more

"That moron" Hikaru rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone to call him "Earth to boss! Will you snap out of it already? The longer you sit there like an idiot playing robot, the worse this situation becomes for all of us! Now listen to me carefully, you can't let this happen, if she and that two-bit thug hit it off, she'll become a mob wife!" This seems to break Tamaki out of his trance.

Tamaki slams his hands against the coffee table to stand. "Daddy won't stand for that!"

"Uhh please don't do this"

"Bossa nova! Just what are you trying to do here? You established a bond with your henchmen didn't you? Why aren't you with them right now? what about kick the can? You remember that? You should be out there enjoying life to the fullest with your friends, while you're still young enough to appreciate it, before it all slips away from under your nose! Whya re you harrasing my Haruhi! As her father, I forbid you to see her!"

"Wait what?"

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, this is going to end in tears.

"You're telling me that you're Fujioka's dad? You have got to be kidding me. That's just impossible"

"Oh no"

"Well, we might not be related by blood "

"Okay so what, are you married to her mom then?"

"No, i've actually never met the woman"

"So i guess you aren't really her father then, are you?"

You and kyoya brace yourselves for tamaki to break at any moment. which he does.

"Wah! Tama-chan! I'll catch you" Honey runs up. "He's right you know? strictly speaking, i'm not Haruhi's real father"

"uh, strictly speaking or otherwise"

"I need to sort this out"

"Sort out what exactly?"

"If supposeing I'm not my haruhi's daddy after all..."

"We don't have to suppose it boss"

"Then how can it be that I find her so utterly adorable?" Oh this is worse than you thought "What are you talking about?"

"When she is with another man why is it that I become so insanely jealous, i'm not her father, i have no right to be so protective" Oh this is so bad, he really had no idea.

"So tell me what is with the whole 'making haruhi your wife one day' thing?"

"I know! Daddies don't typically want to marry their little girls when they grow up do they? "

"What about keeping her from kissing anyone?"

"I only wanted to preserve those precious lips"

"Preserve? really? That's a very interesting choice of word sir, you think everything is okay now, and having this family setting will keep it all from changing right?"

"I don't understand"

"Actually he has a point" Kyoya speaks up from next to you "I mean you're delusional, yes, any halfwit could see that but who knew you were so..." You roll your eyes, crouching down in front of Tamaki

"Tamaki, sweetie, have you considered that maybe that you think of haruhi as something other than a daughter and are trying to bury it under something less scary to admit?" Tamaki stares back at you with a blank face.

"In some ways Tamaki is kinda like my dad" Haruhi says to Kasanoda, which seems to reset Tamaki who chuckles "Did you hear that? apparently in some ways I am like haruhi's father"

"Well, to be more precise, I think what she's saying is, that while you and her father do share some personality straits, in actuality-"

"I've got it! I've got it now! I'm like a father to her!"

You sigh, placing your forehead against your knees "Well, I tried"

"And we've lost him yet again"

"Fujioka, do you think that we could maybe do this more often? Because I was thinking since you entertain girls all day long it might kind of give you a break from all that, you know, if i came around. I mean if, if you want that is"

"Absolutely, that way, you and I could get more acquainted"

Tamaki gasps, the girls hold their breaths.

"Fujioka, i, i've got something i want to tell you. I just wanted to tell you....that i'm...."

"That you're excited to have someone you can relate to, aren't you?"

"Oh Haruhi you sweet summer child" You mutter.

"i know I sure am" She stands "A conversation like this is a rare thing for me, we're going to be great friends"

The girls murmur in pity of kasanoda, fawning over him.

"Of course the two of us are going to be friends! Best of friends forever!"

The girls well up in heartbreak for him, piling around him. leaving Tamaki on his knees with you still crouched down in concern next to him "What's the matter Tamaki?" Kyoya also crouches down next to you, looking at him like two concerned parents look at a toddler.

"When I think about how bossa nova must have been feeling my heart goes out to him a little"

"that's strange isn't it? I mean as haruhi's father, you shouldn't feel sympathy for the man who tried to take your precious little girl away now should you?" you nudge him "Not helping"

"On the contrary, i think it is"

Next time on patience 'And so Kyoya met her!'

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[aayakashii]

1 ❤️fluff Lyca Colt

1❤️ a kiss on the cheek

“Hey.” Lyca nudged you with his elbow as you two scarfed down the lunch you had bought at Sho's food truck.

Lyca was beginning to get used to using cutlery instead of his bare hands to eat, so you could finally relax and focus on your own food during lunch after a few weeks of fretting over him.

“Yeah? What's up?”

He scratched his cheek, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I gotta ask you something.”

You quickly turned to look at him, a bit worried about the serious tone of his voice.

“Okay.” you put your hashi down and offered him your full attention.

“But you gotta promise you won't laugh or think I'm weird!” he pointed at you accusingly, as if you always laughed at him (you did not, but he was still extremely worried about being laughed at).

“You know I don't laugh at your worries, Lyca” you rolled your eyes.

“I know but… I gotta be sure.” he pouted, nose scrunched at the mere thought of you betraying his trust like that.

“I won't laugh. What's worrying you?”

He fidgeted with the end of his hoodie's sleeve, pulling a stray thread from it. You lightly slapped his hand to make him stop so he wouldn't ruin the hoodie's sewing.

The little slap made him flinch and he managed to blurt out what he wanted to say.

“Am I… your best friend?”

You blinked slowly, wondering if you heard him correctly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Am IIIIII. Your beeeest. Frieeeeeend.” he said it again, elongating the syllables for way too long.

“Where did this come from all of a sudden, Lyca?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I was in class and I heard some other people ranking their friends. And they all had a ‘best friend’. So I asked the blonde gigolo what it meant and he said it's the friend you like the most, the one you're always with and someone you like so much you'd help them with anything.”

You nodded, finally understanding his sudden question. “I see, I see.”

“So I asked him if the moth eaten Casanova was his best friend. And he made a face like this” Lyca scrunched his face and stuck out his tongue, imitating what was probably disgust.

“Yeah I imagine he would react like that.”

Lyca shrugged.

“So I wanted to know about you.”

“Did you ask Subaru too?”

“I don't need to” he huffed, puffing his chest “I know I'm his best friend.”

“Oh… but you aren't sure about me?” You crossed your arms.

“Well, you're always hanging out with a bunch of other ghouls and talking to them so I need to know! What if you prefer them rather than me!” he turned his gaze away from you, pouting. His ears and tail popped up as they usually did whenever he felt slightly distressed or nervous.

You stared at his slightly puffed cheeks and his curled down tail, doing your absolute best not to strangle him as the cuteness aggression took over your body. You sighed.

“I can't say you're my best friend, Lyca.”

His head turned quickly towards you, ears flat against his head. He opened his mouth to protest, but you raised your hand so he could let you finish.

“Calm down, I'll explain.” you cleared your throat as he looked at you with heartbroken eyes that almost broke your heart too.

Almost.

“You can't just be my best friend, Lyca.” You shook your head “That isn't enough for you.”

At that, his ears perked and he straightened his previously hunched back.

“What do you mean?”

You began to organize both of your leftovers once you were sure he had your full attention.

“I mean that you are the best boy in the whole world, so you aren't just my best friend. You're my favorite boy. You're leagues above being a best friend.” you winked at him as you finished wrapping up everything.

His cheeks were tinted a light pink, but his face still expressed confusion.

“But then this means I am your best friend, right?” he followed you with his eyes as you got up and stood in front of him.

You sighed.

“Yes. You're my best friend. My best best friend actually.”

His tail began wagging behind him.

“Your best best best friend too?”

You smiled at him and offered your hand to pull him up. “Yes, that too”.

Once he held your hand, you pulled him forward a little bit, making him stumble. His eyes widened as you leaned in and placed a kiss on both of his cheeks.

“My best boy.” you said, squishing his cheeks for a moment and then turning around to walk towards the main building. “Now let's go so we won't be late for class!”

Lyca stood there for a few seconds, dazed, watching you walk further away. His hands touched his warm cheeks.

He didn't really understand it yet, but maybe being best friends wasn't actually enough, just like you said.

Drabble event rules and prompt lists

[xoxochb]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write one with Jason and a daughter of hades, just some fluff for them ps I love your writing I get so happy when they pop up in my tl :)

— the three headed dog

warnings: atod reference because I can’t be stopped pairing: jason grace x daughter of hades a/n: I wanted to include cerberus in this and I was thinking of bringing him to camp but he’s huge as fuck so I decided that why don’t read and jason go to the underworld?? but anyways thank you for your kind words anon ily 🫶🏼

“and this-” you turn the handle and open the door to your room “is my room!”

the room was large. much larger than your cabin at camp, which is why for the most part you would stay in the underworld with your father and step mother. the room had dark walls and black marble floors. a bed sits in the corner, with again black silk sheets and satin curtains around the top to block out any light from reaching you as you slept. the few things out of place on your bed were the stuffies beside your pillow— a moon, a cloud, a teddy bear (which jason had made for you), and a small cerberus. to the right of the room was a small dresser and a door beside it, a vanity on the opposite side. on the left side of the room there were double doors which lead to a bathroom

“well, this is my room. It’s nothing much, really. I spend most of my time in persephone’s garden anyways”

you drop jason’s hand and sprawl across your bed while he stands in awe. nothing much? this room was huge! along with your walk in closet behind one door and a large bathroom behind double doors. this could fit two whole cabins inside!

“I’m starting to understand why you’re never at camp” the son of jupiter jokes

you open your mouth to reply with a smart remark but a noise outside your window stops you. a gasp escapes your lips and you jump up, opening the screen to reveal cerberus the three headed dog. you squeal and take jason’s hand again and drag him out of the palace. you find the dog laying it’s three heads down on the underworld ground

“do you want to pet them?”

jason furrows his brows. “is it safe? how do I know one of them won’t eat me alive?”

“you’re fine. I’m here”

you walk to the heads and begin petting their fur softly. jason walks over and reluctantly and slowly pets another head. the dog lets out a whine when it realizes only two heads are getting attention. you roll your eyes and outstretch another to rub the last head

“my darlings, did you miss me?” you whisper to the heads

they lean into your hands in response, you take this as a yes. you turn to jason who seems to now be enjoying bonding with the creature. you make a mental note to bring him down here more often

“do they like me?”

you laugh. “they like anyone who pets them”

“so they’re not going to eat me alive?”

you shake your head

“do you want to finish the tour? we haven’t finished inside yet”

“I think I want to stay with my best friends longer”

a frown appears on your mouth and you cross your arms over your chest. “I sense favoritism. you’re girlfriend is supposed to be your best friend”

“you are my favorite, darling. just wait for tonight”

your face reddens but you don’t let his insinuation get far. “my dad has eyes everywhere. calm it down, casanova”

“are you saying you wouldn’t break rules for me?”

you walk past the two heads you stood between to be standing face-to-face with jason who watches you with a smirk

“I would burn this world for you. do you underestimate me?”

his smirk drops. “no. of course not”

“then remember that”

you stand on your tippy toes and place only a peck to his mouth, leaving him in search of your lips when you pull back so quickly. you smile and begin walking away, turning once to scold him, “hurry, we have a tour to finish!”