where the fun begins, 2 * ls2 (ms47)
it’s friday: logan throws the party he’s claims he’s having just for you to come around, not even knowing if you’ll be attending
pairings: frat!logan x reader, college!mick x reader
notes: um im on my phone in school i dont have a word count and neither did i plan on making this this long… sry guys uwu hope u like it (i’m desperately running out of logan gifs pls help me)
biggest thanks to @angsthology for helping me out with the white man fight and smug logan because i couldnt, for the life of me, figure that scene out so thank yew baby :*
(f1 masterlist)
| one | two | three | four |
friday rolls around, two days since logan had seen you in the bowling alley with another guy. he also spent the last two days organising a party, completely last minute, sending the entire house into a frenzy to set it in stone.
typically, parties are structured and planned at least two weeks ahead of time. but this time is different.
he can't ignore the frustration that clouds his thoughts when he thinks of that night. or you, in general. all he sees is you wrapped around someone else's arms.
he's been watching the door for the past hour, curious if you had taken him up on his invitation. it's been two hours since the start of the party, and logan knows damn well that word has gotten around about their open house party.
it should have been invitational only, as they usually host their parties. but it's way too last minute to make it an exclusive party. so, they made sure word got around.
he knows that you know what time the party starts. because mick's friends have already made their way into the frat house, drowning in alcohol and pressed up against girls on the dance floor. he only wonders if you would ever come by.
logan folds his arms over his chest, smiling smugly as he watches the crowd pour into the dimly lit home. he turns to oscar. "see? i told you i could pull it off."
oscar stops next to him, hands in his pockets. "i got to say – this is the most effort i've seen you put in a girl," oscar teases, glancing at his friend from the corners of his eyes. "you must really like her."
"i just don't like losing," logan scoffs with an eye roll. "especially not to some loser like the guy she's with."
losing? no, he is jealous. but he would rather abolish this entire party as a whole than admit that to anybody.
"schumacher?" oscar laughs, throwing his head back. "he's not even a loser, mate. have you even talked to him?"
"whose side are you on, dude?" logan frowns, throwing his arms in the air. "there is a wrong answer to this question."
oscar rolls his eyes and punches logan. objectively speaking, he is on mick's side; for your sake. but in a friend perspective, he’ll always be on logan’s side. but even he can admit logan’s a bit of a dick sometimes.
"whatever, dude." he smiles to himself, watching liam open the door to let another crowd in. "it's a very well-put-together party. i'm surprised. where did you get the keg on such short notice?"
logan has this shit-eating grin on his face, one that oscar desperately wants to wipe off. but he can only step back and watch the downfall of all his antics. it's funnier that way.
"frederik knows a guy."
oscar raises an eyebrow. "alright, mate." he pats logan on the back. "liam’s hosting the beer pong. let’s go?”
logan shakes his head, staring at the door with his arms folded over his chest. “later.”
“staring at the door won’t increase the chances of her coming,” oscar hums proudly, patting him on the back. he pushes him through the crowd of college students and massages his shoulder as he tries to find where liam had set up the table. "and anyway, they're coming after pre-drinks."
logan stops in his tracks. "how do you know that?"
oscar steps back with a smirk. "lily told me. did i not update you on that?" he sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "must have slipped my mind."
he knew, since the night logan plotted this party, that you and your friends would be pre-drinking before coming here. another reason you're apparently dragging your feet here is for lily – not wanting her to be alone in a frat house.
as honest of a guy oscar tries to keep himself, it doesn't remove suspicion from him trying to take advantage of her. understandable and respectable. so he told you to take your time.
"dude!" logan scowls, shoving oscar back. "that's vital information you should have told me ages ago! i've watched the door like a fucking hawk all night waiting to see if she's coming."
"it's funnier this way," oscar giggles. "also, it's because i'm dating lily."
"you're what? since when? why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"way before you started seeing her. but you're focused on the wrong thing, mate."
"i doubt that, actually."
"oi, beer pong bitches!" liam screams, his hands cupped over his mouth as he beckons for the pair to approach him. he's knelt on a bar stool to catch their attention in the crowd. "logan is up first for the public versus the house."
logan chuckles, slowly making his way towards the beer pong table once more. "are you sure? i'm undefeated, mate," he turns to his friends, "you'll never get your turn if i'm up first."
frederik grins, gesturing towards the rows of red cups filled with sizzling cheap beer. "we wanna see how long you last."
oscar giggles, patting his back. "revenge for making us scramble to put together this party at such short notice."
"and anyway," liam laughs breathily, stumbling into logan's body. he takes a sip from the red cup in his hand. "we have another table for the casual games by the pool."
"and i don't get to play at that table? how rude," logan scoffs, stepping towards the table. he spreads his arms out as he looks around the crowd. "any takers?"
there are a couple who try taking logan down in his own game of beer pong. but as someone who's always in attendance at every party on campus, he's simply mastered the game – how to distract his opponents when he's losing, how to throw them off the game, and how to hit the ball into the cups.
he's figured it all out.
the games pass by very quick, and logan only drinks a couple of cups out of the 6 opponents that are brave enough to step up to the challenge.
"seriously?" logan giggles, slightly intoxicated from the beer. he watches the previous guy walking away, greeted by his group of friends and consolations for a 'nice try'. but logan knows it wasn't a good try. he didn't have a fighting chance at beating him. "where's the real challenge?"
"i could probably beat you."
he hears a chorus of 'oh's from his own friends crowded behind him, lifting his head to meet a pair of blue ones. he sees you first, hands on someone else's body and an arm wrapped around your shoulders. his eyes land on mick, smugly grinning at him with a hand inside the pocket of his jacket nonchalantly.
"yo, isn't that-"
"liam, read the room."
logan doesn't notice lily threading the edge of the makeshift circle over to his side, greeting oscar with a smile. he tilts his head at mick. "you think you can beat me? i'm undefeated, bro."
he sees you whispering something at mick, swatting at him with a small smile. logan knows that look: the flushed cheeks, swollen lips and slightly smudged mascara under your eyes. you'd drunk a little too much during your pre-drinks.
and so do you with logan: the heaving, permanent sly lazy grin and slumped shoulders. you even notice the way he's already slurring at his words.
"mick, should you really be entertaining this?"
mick smiles down at you, squeezing you with a soft shake. "just a bit of fun. we're at a party after all. i'll keep it friendly."
"i know you will. but will he?"
"trust me?"
you tilt your head and lift an eyebrow. you sigh with a small smile, "fine."
"asking for permission?" logan scoffs. "what are you, scared?"
mick scrunches his nose, lifting his hands from you. "no, mate. reassuring her," he smiles. he slowly tears his jacket off of his arms.
logan clenches his jaw at the sheer audacity when mick turns around and hands you his jacket. he feels a wave of anger, something he's never felt before, rising in his chest when mick leans down and presses a quick kiss to your red cheeks.
this might just be jealousy. but it's an emotion so foreign to logan that he doesn't even notice it. in his head, he's just mad that he's lost you to this guy.
someone rumoured to have gotten into the school through his dad’s connections.
"you sure you wanna embarrass yourself in front of her?" logan asks sweetly, biting down on his bottom lip. "one more chance to back out, schumacher."
mick shrugs and steps towards logan. "all in, mate."
"just making sure you don't embarrass your little girlfriend," logan grins, craning his neck slightly and squints his eyes down at you. "you don't want everyone to see him lose to me, do you? you should advise him otherwise."
you don't even get a chance to react before mick steps into logan's line of vision to you. "don't bring her into this."
logan scoffs, eyeing mick up and down. he furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. "huh?"
"let's keep this friendly?" mick smiles. he extends his hand towards logan.
logan's gaze trails to the hand held out in front of him. he chuckles dryly before turning away, earning another chorus of gasps and shocked whispers around him, walking over to his side of the table. "you know how to play beer pong, don't you?"
mick purses his lips together, retracting his arm before padding over to his spot. "yeah."
liam looks between them, drunkenly filling up the new set of cups with beer. the kiwi can only hope that they keep talking so that he doesn't have to rush with the cups.
"i can teach you if you'd like."
"no, i think i can handle myself."
"alrighty," liam stands, clasping his hands together. "enough yapping. play the stupid game, you guys. it's just beer pong."
logan remembers a time when you used to be in this crowd. cheering for him instead of some random guy you met in one of your classes. you should be on the other side of the crowd next to oscar and arthur.
logan doesn’t do great with losing. if that hasn’t been implied, he doesn’t know any other way to show it.
mick crosses his arms over his torso. “make a shot, reigning champ.”
“i can be generous,” logan scrunches his nose, pressing his lips together. “guests first.”
the boy across the table shrugs. the game doesn’t go by as fast as the previous ones that logan plays. mick was actually true to his word, knowing how to play the game.
logan’s drank more cups than he’s ever in the entirety of the evening. he has to take a couple of deep breaths, staring down at the table when mick hits the ball into the last cup on his side.
he lost. he… lost? how is that possible?
“good game,” mick smiles with a polite nod across the table.
logan scans the table, taking his last cup into his hand. he hadn’t even stood a chance against mick. he still had more than half his set on the table.
mick swiftly turns around, ready to approach you when logan speaks. “one more?”
“mate-“
oscar taps liam on the shoulder, his one arm around lily’s shoulders, and grins. “no, let him do what he wants,” he glances at lily, who is smiling back at him, “i wanna see how this goes.”
“he’s gonna get himself into a fight, oscar,” liam mutters, pointing at logan. “you know him.”
“let him,” oscar shrugs. “he’s an adult — he knows what he’s getting into.”
“one more?” mick asks, halfway towards you. “are you sure?”
“yeah. best of three?”
“logan,” frederik calls out, pressing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head. “mate. he beat you fair and square.”
“no, it’s alright,” mick smiles. “no hard feelings.”
“very hard feelings,” logan mutters to himself, reaching to the side to open a beer can to replenish everything himself. “you stole my girlfriend.”
liam quickly takes over logan, swatting his hands away as he fills one cup sloppily with half of the liquid trickling down the side.
the next game goes by even quicker than before, the entire duration flashing right in front of logan’s eyes. he’s lost again. at least, it was closer this time. it was tied down to one last cup. mick simply played his shot better.
in normal circumstances, maybe logan would have just taken the loss as one would. but this is mick we’re talking about. logan will be anything but diplomatic about it.
“you had me nervous for a moment there!” you giggle. you move your arm out to avoid spilling the cocktail that frederik very graciously mixed for you during the game. “i thought you were going to have to play the third round.”
mick laughs breathily, blinking rapidly with a hand on his chest. “me too. i’m filled with alcohol,” he laughs, sweeping you into his arms. he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, lifting you slightly from the ground. “let’s go whenever you want to?”
“aw, mate,” frederik sighs, heading over to mick. “house rules: the winner stays until defeated.”
“no way,” you whine, jokingly tearing frederik’s hands from mick. “i wanna head to the bar and get another drink with him!”
“fuck this,” logan mutters, throwing the racket down on the table. he snatches the last cup on the table and glances over at you excitedly bouncing as mick swept you up into his arms.
he rolls his eyes, whirling around and heading towards the backyard of the house.
mick hums as you engage in a conversation with frederik, his hand still on your waist. “um, hold on,” he whispers, tapping you gently. “i’ll go check on him. he looks mad.”
you tug on his shirt. “no, he’ll be okay. he’s just a sore loser, mick.”
he laughs, shaking his head as he detaches himself from your grasp. “i just wanna ask him if he’s okay. i’ll meet you guys at the bar.”
you hum hesitantly, letting go of his hands finger by finger. frederik nudges you in the direction of the bar where oscar and lily are already walking towards.
mick steps out into the backyard, hopeful to find the blonde that turned his back on them. while he didn’t frequent petty fights, logan’s reactions are just very entertaining to him. all because he had failed to appreciate your presence when he was blessed with it and mick stepped up to take you out on a date.
and when he was hearing whispers about logan remaining undefeated at the beer pong table, he took up on the chances. perhaps the alcohol made him feel slightly competitive.
he’s ashamed to admit that he let his ego get the best of him and that’s why he stepped up to logan’s challenge.
“mate,” mick announces his presence, slowly approaching logan sitting on one of the sun beds by the pool. “i hope you didn’t take the game to heart.”
“fuck off,” logan mutters, dropping his head low. he picks at the grass under the bed and clenches his jaw. “what are you doing here anyway? shouldn’t you be celebrating with your girlfriend?”
“she’s not my girlfriend.” logan looks up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “yet.”
“seriously, what’s your deal? have you just come here to parade in my face that you got the girl or something?” logan pushes himself up to his feet. “i get it, man.”
mick sighs. “no. i was checking on you. you look like you had too much to drink there.”
“i don’t need you babysitting me,” logan shakes his head and folds his arms over his chest. “i’m a grown adult.”
“do you need some water? i don’t imagine you feel so good after chugging that much beer,” mick mutters under his breath. “you should really sit down.”
“don’t act like you care.”
“logan,” mick sighs, closing his eyes momentarily to let his frustration pass. “iced or room temp water?”
logan rolls his eyes. “stop acting all saint-like, man. i know you wanna hit me.”
“mate, i do not want to hit you.”
“for sure, you do. you just don’t know it yet.” logan shoves his hands into his pockets. he takes a step forward. “we all know you want to hit me. just do it.”
mick takes note of the step he takes, but stays planted into the ground. “i don’t want to fight you.”
“i know you do. the urge just hasn’t clawed at you yet,” logan grins sloppily. another step forward. “or are you holding back? because she doesn’t like messy guys and you’re scared you’ll lose her it you throw a punch?”
“i’m not holding back. fighting is a waste of time — i don’t like it.”
“she’s very conservative, dude, but she’s very forgiving,” logan nods, looking into the glass doors that lead into the house. he tries to spot you in the crowd but when he doesn’t, he returns his attention to mick. “you’re allowed a couple mistakes.”
“i’m not taking advantage of her like that.”
“i’m not asking you to take advantage of her kindness. i’m telling you that if you need to throw a punch or two, she will definitely forgive you. no need to be scared.”
mick laughs slightly, throwing his hands into the air to surrender. “i’m really not looking to fight with you. that’s beyond me, mate.”
“she appreciates when you let loose a little bit,” logan nods to himself. “why do you think we were going out all those months together? it’s not just cause i won her over with my charm, ya know. she’s got a bit of a wild side, mate.”
mick tilts his head, squinting slightly. he appreciates the extent logan is going to just to rile him up.
“if you don’t know that, then maybe she’s just not comfortable with you.” one more step forward. “i know so well a side of her even you’ve never seen before.”
“do you?”
“yeah,” logan answers in a low tone. he drops his head, one corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. “she’s got that perfect picture smile from a magazine, but you should have seen her when we went to this one party on campus.”
“ah. so?”
“do you know that she gets touchy when she consumes tequila?” logan perks up innocently. “very brave — she’s taken body shots before, you know. off of me?”
“okay? that was a frat party; of course you guys would host that kind of activity. i was there when that happened.”
logan ignores the jabs at the fraternity.
“kissed her yet? in case you haven’t, she tastes like those strawberry mints she always keep a tin of inside her pocket. they’re very minty, but it’s lovely.”
mick grins, pursing his together. “yeah, i know.”
“have you seen her in that one baby doll dress that she likes wearing a lot? what about her yellow sundress that barely covers her thighs?” logan pouts his bottom lip out. “it’s a scene when the wind comes by.”
“mate, you’re kind of crossing a line now,” the german chuckles. “don’t talk about her like that. i know you like her too.”
logan takes another step forward, eager to find that one trigger in mick. “do you know the mole she’s got on her hip? on the left side of her lower back. it’s really really visible when you’re fuc–“
“aw, fuck’s sake!”
logan almost bursts into laughter when he realises what had happened. his back meets the land of grass in the backyard, a pain shooting through his face. when he looks up, a crowd has formed around them during their conversation and liam is already knelt by his side.
lifting his head, he sees mick covering his face with both hands. he runs his hands through his hair as he looks down at logan with wide eyes, hands cupping his warm cheeks. “oh, my god. oh my god.”
oscar and lily pour out of the glass doors with a crowd following them out, the australian raising his eyebrows at his best friend lying back on the ground with a bloody nose.
“logan?” oscar asks, already knowing that he’s probably done or said something to trigger the normally calm headed man in front of him. “what did you do?”
logan scoffs, letting liam help him to sit on the sun bed. “i have the bloody nose and you’re asking me what i did? why don’t you ask him? he hit me.” logan points at mick as he takes the tissues that liam is putting into his hands.
oscar stares at logan. “really? you’re going with that?”
“yeah,” logan grins, glancing at mick. he presses the tissues to his nose, hissing when pain shoots through his face again at the contact. “god, dude. you don’t look like it but you can throw a punch.”
mick nurses his knuckle, taking a couple of steps back. “i know, mate. i’m not stupid.”
you stumble out of the glass doors, heaving as frederik keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. you were in one of the bathrooms upstairs — where it’s exceptionally cleaner — when mick threw the punch (frederik was holding your purse waiting for you outside the door).
when you made your way back down, the crowd inside the house halved. frederik would tap ollie, taking body shots off of someone, asking where everyone had gone.
and ollie, lying back on the table as he put salt on his stomach, pointed to the backyard and muttered something about a possible fight. “logan, maybe,” he muttered before promptly shooing you away.
you look at mick first, who has his shoulders slumped with oscar and lily by his side and is staring at you with guilt all over his face. then you look at logan, being nursed by liam and someone else, with a tissue and an ice pack against his face.
“yeah?” logan perks up with a scoff at you. “can’t pick who to nurse?”
@cashtons-wife @localwhoore @vroomvroomcircuit @foreveralbon @what-is-happening-helpp
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Heloo! :D I saw your request are open so i decided to send one! what would be Sunday's reaction to a Furina!s/o? If that's a tad bit confusing, can you do Sunday's reaction to his s/o performing Sinners Finale (Furina's execution song) and the execution if you're feeling angsty :3 (You dont need to add that part if you dont want to) SORRY FOR MY BAD ENGLISH IM REALLY BAD AT EXPLAINING
can i be 🤸 anon pls :3
-🤸
You bet you can! Sorry 🤸 if it's not as you'd like but I did have a lot of fun writing about it. I kept some elements that I really enjoyed and found some nice music to listen to in the prosess. I had a lot of fun brainstorming in a cafe with some coffee!
Sorry about my posting being all over the place, moving across the country in the next few months will keep one busy! Anyways heads up this will pull at the heart strings,
Without anymore stalling, I present
La Danse du Chagrin
"Long, long ago, on a small planet named La Sec, a tradition old as the aeons persisted. Every 500 years a lottery was to be held. The winner is said to preform a dance so wonderful that the skies themselves weep and bring this dry and starved planet the water it desires"
You've told this story to Sunday as many times as he asked. Every time he seemed more and more enthralled within the sad story.
The very same story you told him when he first found you, one of of his many trips outside of Penacony.
He saw you dancing for the very first time, a style he wasn't familiar with at first. You lived gracefully, going up en point as if it were as easy as breathing.
The two of you met when he went to extend an invitation, to invite you to dance for the dreamscape. You soon became one of the more popular shows to go to when Robin wasn't present.
It was just after one of your shows, you and Sunday were in your dressing room. Him away from the public eye, watching you make yourself perfect before your next performance.
Sunday's always liked that about you, how your always perfect when you dance, as well as when you dress for the day or for the stage.
A bloodhound knocks on the door to the dressing room, prompting Sunday to get up and answer it as you were busy making sure your hair was perfect. Sunday was handed a note, addressed to you. He passed it along, setting it down on your table while he took his seat again.
Carefully you opened it, taking the note in hand and reading it. You bit your lip, keeping as stoic an expression as you could muster.
"Well my dear dove, it seems we have a show to attend in La Sec. I do hope you will come watch me dance, they did personally invite me too"
You said as you stood up, turning to face him. In hand your point shoes. In the other a red tambourine with matching velvet ribbons tied to it. Your dress a silky white with blood red accents.
"By of course my dear, it seems we are to depart?"
You nodded your head and walked side by side with him.
----
Arriving home was just like you expected. Dry, the earth cracked and starved for water. You took Sunday to Palace d'ear. A grand palace with many a room and beautiful gardens made of stones instead of lush greens. Inside tall ceilings with paintings.
Sunday looked at the paintings, filled with beautiful dancers, tales of woe and sorrow. Some of excutions.
The two of you walked on, further and further. You directed Sunday to a stage, and had him sit in the audience, while you went off to speak with an official.
------
It had been about an hour, he noticed a spinning blue sword above the stage, he figured it was just an effect. After all, it is a stage.
He blinked as he looked at you, then, the music started to play.
He watched you dance both your and his favorite solo, La Esmeralda Finale .
Your white dress swirled around you as you danced, your pristine point shoes matching your skin as always. Your hair half up and half down. Sunday always lived watching you dance.
The music ended as you held your final pose. As Sunday stood clap, the blue sword he saw beforehand stopped spinning, and came crashing down with a thunk.
Your dress was stained red, like the bow in your hair.
His eyes, wide in horror. No one had explained the sacrifice to him.
He bolted to the stage when he could, cradling what was left of you as he watched your body turn to little blue droplets and head into the sky.
Your bloodied point shoes, held close to his chest as it started to rain outside.
Oh what a terrible day for rain.
He clutched your beloved shoes close to his heart. He started to sob.
First he was robbed of his sister, now of his beloved? How the world was cruel to him.
He stayed long past the crowd leaving, gathering up your belongings to take them back to his home, your home.
Sunday never went to a ballet again, it wasn't the same.
How he wished he could have watched you keep dancing on for him
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Is there any wr Chris Drabble that you can and want to share maybe perhaps
🙏🙏🙏🙏😭 * not in a pressuring way but in a I love this installment and can’t get enough way* feel free to ignore if not!
you know what??? sure! this is a fluffy one that i haven't had a reason to post, so i'll use this ask for that skdjfhskjdf
just fyi i've got a couple horny ones in the works, but they're still not complete 😭 so this is all i can offer for now. hope you enjoy~
Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~1k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · fluff | established relationship | descriptors of the reader such as: being chubby · pet names · a bit suggestive, but it’s fairly tame · this is barely proof-read, so please bear with me
minors do not interact.
> Chris💕🐺: hey pretty
> i know we said we were gonna go on a date tonight
> but i dont think ill make it baby im sorry :(
< You: aw 🥺
< it’s ok darling
< we can go out some other time
> Chris💕🐺: ill make it up to u
> i promise
It wasn’t uncommon for your boyfriend to come home late at night. He’d always come through the door complaining about how they were behind on their sprint, or how one of his co-workers deleted hours worth of coding in a single click, or how the entire platform he worked on crashed and they needed to spend overtime fixing it… It worried you sometimes, but it’d become such a natural occurrence at this point it didn’t faze you anymore.
You felt like Chris didn’t even need to promise to make it up to you, you knew he would anyway, but you figured he always felt the need to set his words in stone. Sometimes he’d make it up to you the very next day, sometimes it took him weeks, but he always did, which you appreciated immensely.
By ten in the evening you just knew Chris wouldn’t be home before midnight. He always told you to not wait up for him, that you needed to rest, too. But you found it incredibly hard to fall asleep comfortably when he wasn’t there, so you’d either toss and turn for hours, or you’d drift in and out of sleep until he made it to your bed.
You vaguely registered the front door of your flat opening and closing, just like you vaguely registered the muffled sounds of your boyfriend’s steps around your home until you started to hear the shower. Stretching your limbs a bit, a tiny squeak left your mouth, and you reached for your phone to check the time.
One thirty in the morning.
With a sigh, you locked your phone again and turned to lay on your other side, bringing one of the extra pillows between your thighs for comfort.
You laid there for a while, waiting, until you heard the shower stop completely. You honestly expected your boyfriend to open the door to your bedroom right then, but instead, all you heard was silence. In normal circumstances, you would’ve let it go and gone back to sleep, but as it was, you really wanted to see him, so you got out of your shared bed, rubbing sleep from your eye with your fist as you opened the door and left the room.
Only the small lights on the kitchen were on, but they provided enough illumination to see Chris. He was sitting on the sofa, with his elbows on his thighs and his hands buried in his hair.
As soon as you walked closer, he looked up. With a small smile on his lips he gave you a “Why are you up?”
You yawned, shrugging.
“Sorry I woke you up, pretty”, Chris mumbled, taking a hold of your hand as soon as you were in front of him.
Shaking your head, you placed your free hand on Chris’ shoulder, pushing him just enough to lay back on the sofa so you could straddle him and comfortably settle on his lap. With his arms around your waist, he pulled you flush against him, just as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, mumbling a very sleepy ‘S’okay’ against his skin.
Burying one of your hands in his damp hair, you gently massaged his scalp while bringing an arm to rest on his shoulders so you could pull him close to you as well. Chris hummed, and you felt him relax under the soothing motions of your hand.
Over the years, you’d come to read your boyfriend’s body language quite well–or at least you liked to think so. When he was quiet like this, you could tell something was weighing heavy on his mind, so you’d made it a habit to ask. “Wanna talk about your day?”
Chris remained quiet for a moment, but he still moved his arms from around your waist to bring a hand under your shirt and rest it on the small of your back, while the other cradled the back of your head. After a few moments, he just shook his head, and you hummed in understanding.
You both stayed there like that, quietly enjoying your warmth for a while. Until you finally pulled away from his neck and cradled his face in your hands. Chris just leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh.
He was clearly refreshed from his shower, but you could still see the bags under his eyes, and the small frown on his face. You knew it wasn’t directed at you–or at least you hoped so–it surely had to do with whatever happened at work, so your first instinct was to lean in and press a kiss right where his eyebrows furrowed.
A small smile spread on his face, and his frown seemed to have disappeared when you finally pulled back. With a smile of your own, you leaned in again to press a kiss on his forehead. Then his nose, each cheek, and finally, his lips.
Chris’ lips moulded to yours, kissing you slowly, holding you even closer to him. He was so warm, and the feeling of his fingers caressing your lower back and the ones burying in your hair to angle your head to the side the tiniest bit was quickly igniting the flame of need deep within yourself.
After a few moments of kissing, you rolled your hips. You couldn’t help it, he was right there, touching you, existing, and your body just naturally reacted to him.
Chris tensed with the movement, and he immediately brought his hands to your hips to still your movement.
“Baby…” Chris pulled away from your lips with a sigh, an incredibly tired sigh. “I’m–I’m not…”
It was rare for Chris to not be in the mood for sex, but it did happen every once in a while, usually when he was not only incredibly exhausted, but also worried about something. So you simply smiled at him, dragging your thumbs over his cheeks as if to soothe him. “It’s okay, baby”.
Chris sighed again, looking you in the eyes. His eyebrows were drawn together once again. “I’m sorry, pretty. I’ll make it up to–”
“Baby”, you interrupted him and squished his cheeks, forcing his lip into a pout. “It’s fine. You don’t have to make anything up to me”.
“But–”
“I’m serious”, you pecked his lips, and offered him a smile after. “Don’t go all toxic alpha on me now, hm? It’s literally fine, babe”.
Chris chuckled, and he pulled you down for a brief kiss. “I love you”.
“Love you, too”, you replied simply, relishing the way Chris’ body relaxed under you again. “Now… Sleep?”
Chris looked at you for a moment, mulling your words, until he eventually spoke. “I’d like to… kiss some more…”
You leaned in, not quite pressing your lips to his yet, but close enough so every word made your lips brush against his. “How much more?”
Chris held you tighter. “A lot more”.
So you hummed, right as you finally connected your mouths in a deep kiss.
This was one of Chris’ moods sometimes. He’d just want to hold you, kiss you, rile you up with no real prospect of sex. And you’d lie if you said you didn’t enjoy it.
His plush lips against yours, his teeth tugging your flesh, his tongue brushing yours… Chris was an amazing kisser, and you could honestly spend hours just doing this. Hours of his hands roaming your back, of the satisfied hums and moans spilling from his mouth, of the wet sounds your motions produced.
Of course it made you horny, of course it made him horny… You could feel his hardness under you, enticing you, but being honest, kissing felt just as satisfying regardless. You liked that you could have these moments with your boyfriend, where you could somewhat keep things intimate, but rather chaste–as much as french kissing a werewolf could be considered chaste…
“God, I missed you so much”, Chris mumbled, digging his fingers on the soft flesh of your waist, under your tee.
“Me too, baby”, you mumbled back, barely even disconnecting your lips from his.
You couldn’t really tell how long you spent there, sitting on his lap and ravishing his mouth, but eventually, he pulled back, looking you in the eyes as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears.
His pupils were so deliciously blown, his lips all pink and plump, slick with your spit, and you were sure there was wetness making contact with your core, even with the thin fabric of his sleeping shorts separating your bodies.
“You’re so pretty”, Chris wrapped an arm around your waist, and he cupped your cheek with his free hand. “So pretty and mine. My pretty girlfriend…”
You chuckled, looking at his droopy eyes. “So are you, darling”.
“Mmm…” Chris leaned in again, kissing you briefly.
When he pulled back, you placed your hands on his bare shoulders. “Sleep?”
Chris nodded. “Sleep. Hold on tight, baby”.
As soon as you looped your arms around his neck, and with a firm hold on your thighs, Chris stood up from the sofa, taking you with him and walking languid steps to your bedroom, switching the kitchen lights off on the way.
As soon as he stepped into your room, Chris gently placed you on your feet so you could take the few steps left to the bed.
He placed a quick kiss on your cheek once you were both tucked under the covers. He pulled you close to his body and laid his head on your chest, letting out a sigh of relief once you buried your fingers in his hair and started massaging his scalp.
It was silent for a while, until you started to hear–and feel–the barely audible rumble coming from your boyfriend’s chest. It brought a smile to your face, and, soon enough, you fell asleep as well.
© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.
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