#i have plans too tomorrow and thursday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

filmstarved · 2 months ago

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i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot.

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble.

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly.

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin.

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him.

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles.

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning.

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you.

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans.

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it.

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully.

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did.

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top.

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it.

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely.

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again.

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything.

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he.

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies.

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face.

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass.

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again.

ease and silence…and love.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #xmen fic #wolverine smut #i hate everyone but you #logan howlett #wolverine #hugh jackman

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heartsfromia · 2 months ago

Text

knight in shining armor — j. wonwoo

pairing: non-idol! wonwoo x f!reader

word count: 7,350

genre: fluff, angst, mild crack, college setting

warnings: cheating (not wonwoo tho our boy is sweet, it's reader's shitty ex), curse words, implicit violence (black eyes, cuts on lips mentioned)

author's notes: y'all pray that one day i have the energy to proofread my works ;_____; BRO I STG I WORKED ON THIS FOR OVER THREE MONTHS AND IDK HOW IT GOT SOOO LONG T___________T

“Hey, I’m planning on finishing my paper for International Law in Holly’s, come with me?”

With your hands intertwined with your boyfriend, Hanwoo, the two of you walked towards the parking lot by your university, just having finished a class together. You were hoping to spend some time together since Hanwoo had been preoccupied with the major association he’s a member in, as the collegial organization is holding its elections in the next week and he had been approached to help out as a committee member. Since the two of you have the same classes together, and the paper was due next Monday (it being a Thursday now), you thought you could get, at least the introduction down, while having some quality time in the 24 hour café with your boyfriend of six months.

“We’ll be there all night and you can distract me from my paper and I will do the same to you, and then we can down a ton of caffeine before passing out on the bean bags they have,” you tried to convince him, leaning into his side as you two approached his car. “And then we can go home and talk about how we should’ve finished our paper, plan another night in Holly’s and do it all over again!”

“Although that does sound tempting,” Hanwoo began, releasing your hand to reach for the car keys and unlocked the doors. He leaned down to be eye-level with you, as his hand reached for the door handle of the passenger seat, he uttered, “But, I have a meeting later tonight.” Pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he pulled your door open and stepped aside enter the car. A pout found its way to your lips, pulling your favorite move to get what you want, but he wasn’t budging and only nodded his head for you to climb in.

“What meeting?” You asked once he climbed into the driver’s seat, pulling the car out of the parking lot and on your way to your house to drop you off.

“The election, since Monday evening will be the debate between president and vice president candidates, so we need to discuss the topics of the debate, all the technical stuff tonight,” he explained, “we’re planning on pushing a lot we need done between today and tomorrow, so we can have the weekends free and do finishing touches on Monday.”

“Ahh, being Event Organizer really isn’t easy… so you’ll be busy today, and tomorrow?” He only nodded, briefly sending a small smile her direction. “Alright, then, I’ll just see if Wonwoo is free tonight.”

Hanwoo threw his head back, asking, “Isn’t Wonwoo a Computer Science major?”

“Yeah, but he’s really good at research so I think he can help.” Hanwoo didn’t bother asking more, turning the music up to let it fill the silence as you arrived by the driveway of your house. “Good luck on your paper, yeah? Don’t drink too much coffee.”

“No promises,” you responded before kissing his cheek and climbing out his car. You waved him off, watching as the car disappeared in the distance before turning to head inside and up to your room just left of the entryway. Tossing your bag on your chair, you flopped on to your bed, too mentally exhausted from the three lectures today to even change your clothes, feeling sleep begin to fog your head. You were on the edge of dreamland when you heard a clink, then a few seconds later another one, and then another one, and it seemed to be never ending before you pulled yourself out of your drowsiness and headed to your window—which just so happened to be adjacent to your next door neighbor, Wonwoo’s window.

“You seriously need to reconsider throwing rocks at my window before you shatter it, Wonwoo.” Your neighbor only chuckled, so you took this as an opportunity. “Hey, can you come with to Holly’s? I’m planning to stay overnight there.”

“What for?”

“I’m holding an executive meeting for us to discuss a ten-step plan to overthrow our government,” you grinned, and he pondered, tapping his chin lightly before shaking his head.

“I can’t overthrow the government yet, I have a quiz tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. You could always count Wonwoo to go along with your poor attempts at sarcasm. “I have a paper to work on and I don’t want to be alone.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? What’s his name? Yohan?”

“So close! It’s Hanwoo,” you retorted with a deadpan as you reminded him of your boyfriend’s name. Wonwoo hasn’t been discreet in his distaste towards your boyfriend—it’s been six months since he asked you out, and it’s been six months of Wonwoo never remembering his name. “He has a meeting today since the upcoming election debate for my major’s organization.”

“Is he running or…?” Wonwoo asked, despite his lack of interest with the topic.

“No, he’s the EO, and will be occupied for the next couple of days.”

“Aah, so I’m a back-up to you? Got it.” You knew he was being sarcastic, it was a running joke between the two of you since splitting when choosing college majors—you had done the same when he asked you to accompany him to watch a movie he really wanted to see, only to find out he came to you because friends from his major were busy.

“Do you want to come with me or not?” You asked again, “you don’t need to if you don’t want to.”

“What time?” Wonwoo asked, not hesitating. “Eomma is making dinner tonight, and asked me to ask you to join in case your parents are working late.”

You turn briefly, listening in to your parent’s room across from yours and can hear the muffle conversation behind the walls. “I think they’re home, but knowing my dad, he won’t be cooking so I think all three of us can head over to your place for dinner?”

“Sure, I’ll tell Eomma,” Wonwoo informed, “so after dinner then, we can go? Did you ask your parents for permission to spend the night working on the assignment.”

Dread immediately washed over you, colour draining from your face and to your feet as you remembered you haven’t asked permission from your parents, especially your dad who isn’t fond of you working long hours for an assignment you could’ve finished from when it was assigned. Force habit, dad, it’s not my fault you raised a chronic procrastinator, you couldn’t help but think. An innocent chuckle left your lips as you pulled your signature puppy-dog eyes to Wonwoo, who—without you having to utter a single word—understood what you were doing.

He heaved a heavy sigh, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll ask them.”

“You are the best! Did you know that you’re the best person I’ve ever met? You’re absolutely awesome, smart and so, so, so kind, Wonwoo!” You blew a kiss in his direction, like how you watched Sunjae in Lovely Runner do so. “Love you!”

He waved your exaggerated gestures off, ignoring the heat forming in his cheeks and spreading to his ears, as he turned away, yelling back at you, “Yeah, yeah, just hurry up, I want to get this over with.”

“When do you think International Humanitarian Law is applicable?” You turned to Wonwoo after reading (re: skimming) a journal regarding the topic for your paper. Despite having only been studying the material for about twenty minutes, you could feel yourself losing it by the second. You didn’t hate International Law, but you always thought that the professor assigned too much reading, and is so strict about the entire paper itself—specifically using APA style, it has to only be footnotes (no in-line citations, despite that being the easiest in your opinion and you always preferred Chicago over any other reference style).

Oh, and the International Law professor is biased and lowkey a bitch.

So, being reluctant to work on an assignment given by your major’s most disliked professor wasn’t a priority even with the deadline closing in.

“During world conflicts?” You and Wonwoo stared at each other briefly, before you nodded, “That is true.” Wonwoo stifled a laugh. Seeing you look so drained and empty every single time you worked on an assignment, never failed to make him laugh. He enjoyed accompanying you, and despite the different majors and study programs you both have, he always tried to make sure he is more help than company. Even though you never really wanted to help you work on the assignment, knowing he has his own to deal with as a Computer Science major, but he’s well aware of your habits that even if the due date is Monday and you are working on it right now, you won’t completely finish it until Sunday, if not with Wonwoo’s aid.

“What’s the paper about?”

“The application of International Humanitarian Law in a specific study case,” you responded, tone flat. The more you talked about it, the more your soul was being sucked into the void. “I chose the Femicides in El Salvador.”

“Alright.” Was all Wonwoo said before he opened Google Scholar and began his own little research.

“Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“Y/N?” Cut off mid-sentence, you and Wonwoo turned to find Joy approaching your table, her hair tied and a lanyard around her neck, she must’ve just gotten back from campus.

“Joy? Hi, what are you doing here?” You smiled, internally sighing in relief because you had a reason to not look at the journal you were reading of femicide reports in the past decade.

“I just came back from an internal meeting with the EO’s for the upcoming debate,” Joy responded, noticing Wonwoo and waving at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m working on Michelle’s paper,” you answered, exaggerating the slouch in your shoulders and pout in your lips. You then realized, sitting up straight, head cocked to the side with your brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re an EO for the debate?”

Joy pulled a chair to sit across from you, resting her arms on the table and nodded.

“So you were with Hanwoo?”

It was her turn to furrow her brows. “Your boyfriend?” You nodded, and she shook her head. “No I wasn’t.”

“What? But he told me he was having a meeting with the EO’s for the debate, maybe you didn’t see them?”

The crease between your friend’s brow only deepened. “Y/N, the EO’s are only four people, not including the PIC—I’ve also met them all, and Hanwoo isn’t a part of us.”

“That’s weird,” you muttered. Did your boyfriend lie?

“Maybe he got his position switched? Maybe he’s not an EO? You could try asking tomorrow,” Joy tried to reason, and you only nodded. Hanwoo had been telling you that he was an EO for the past couple of weeks, ever since the announcement of election was released for the major association. He explained to you in great detail what the position would entail, and well, frankly speaking, you trusted him. It tugged at your chest at the possibility he might’ve lied to you.

And Wonwoo can see it. The deep glare in your eyes as you stared at the article you were reading, but you weren’t actually reading the reports from representatives of the El Salvadoran government, instead you were reading into the situation with your boyfriend. Gears were turning in your head, making connections, coming up with excuses as to why he had chosen to lie to you about something as trifling as his position in a collegial committee. He could tell that no matter how many paragraphs you read, how many relative research articles you pulled up from the internet, nothing will allow you to progress in your paper until the nagging feeling of your fibbing boyfriend is at ease.

“Y/N, do you want to head back home, call it a night?” Wonwoo asked, before quickly raising his phone, “My brother just sent me a text, that he needs the car early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, yeah sure, let me just pay—”

“You pack up, I’ll pay for our food.”

You knew that he knew. Your lips pressed into a tight smile, “Thanks, Won.” He nodded, returning your smile before heading to the counter.

“Should we continue tomorrow night, then?” Joy asked. You nodded. “Sure,” then added, “depends though.”

On whether or not your boyfriend is lying.

“Wonwoo, do you have notes from Beom’s class? Last weeks’?” Seungcheol sat across from Wonwoo in the cafeteria, picking up a fry from Wonwoo’s plate and tossing it into his mouth. Wonwoo merely stared at his friend, unamused by his lack of manners, causing Seungcheol to chuckle.

“You know I do, Cheol, but why should I give it to you?” Wonwoo asked, his baritone voice holding a twinge of sarcasm, still upset by Seungcheol’s unwarranted act of property theft.

“Who says I want them?” Seungcheol turns away, flustered that Wonwoo caught on too quickly to his motive.

Wonwoo shrugs, and continues eating his lunch. “Alright then.”

“Can you email them to me?” An innocent, close-lipped smile etched across Seungcheol’s face, his dimple deepening as he clasped his hands together, pulling the same trick as Y/N usually does to get what they want.

“Stop that, I already get enough of puppy-eyes from Y/N,” grunted Wonwoo, rolling his eyes. “I’ll send them tonight, just send me a reminder.”

“Great, thanks, man.” Wonwoo expected him to leave, allowing for Wonwoo to spend the rest of his lunch alone before he heads to his next class, but Seungcheol stayed put, eyes on his phone. Not feeling like making any conversation, Wonwoo shrugged it off and continued eating. That is, until Seungcheol spoke up again, asking, “Hey, doesn’t Y/N have a boyfriend?”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the heat that rose at the back of his neck. “Yeah, why?”

“Isn’t it that Hanwoo guy?” Wonwoo nodded, but Seungcheol only looked even more perplexed. “They’re still going out?”

“Yeah…” Wonwoo confirmed, but the question only made his curiosity grow. Why did Seungcheol look so surprised? “Why?”

“It’s just… I mean, if you say they’re still together then it might not be- I must’ve made a mistake,” Seungcheol tried to change the subject but Wonwoo wasn’t going to let him do so.

“Tell me what you’re talking about or you won’t get Beom’s notes,” Wonwoo threatened, earning a look of genuine offense from Seungcheol, whom briefly rose a brow, a bit unconvinced. “I’m serious, Cheol.”

“Ass,” he muttered, before shaking his head, “Nah, it’s just… last night I saw a guy pick up my neighbor from across the courtyard, and I thought he looked a lot like Hanwoo.” Wonwoo’s eyebrow rose in suspicion, Seungcheol spotting it. “But if you say they’re still going out, then it must’ve been someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Any guy would be stupid to cheat on Y/N, especially since she’s your best friend and all.”

That only made him more confused. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s not like you’d let anyone hurt her, Won,” Seungcheol retorted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (it was), “and Hanwoo would be a huge dumbass if he even thought of cheating on her.”

Even though Seungcheol was right, Wonwoo wasn’t convinced—Hanwoo had a meeting last night when they were at Holly’s but Joy confirmed that he wasn’t even a part of the EO committee.

“Are you sure it wasn’t him?” He tried to make sure.

“I mean, it was dark and I wasn’t wearing my glasses so it was a bit blurry—all-in-all I would say 50%, either he was or he wasn’t,” Seungcheol explained, being no help to Wonwoo’s growing suspicion of your boyfriend.

“I’ve gotta go,” Wonwoo uttered, standing and packing his things, tossing his backpack over his shoulder.

“Where are you go- class is that way!” Wonwoo paid no mind to his friend as he continued walking towards the parking lot. However, he could hear Seungcheol as he was almost out of earshot, “Y/N, your knight in shining armor is on his way.”

The corner of Wonwoo’s lips quirked up. “I’m not sending the notes then!”

“Oh, come on, man!”

He couldn’t wait any longer. Suspicions and of course, anger, only grew the more steps he took towards his car, knowing the destination was you. If what Seungcheol said is true and he did, in fact, see Hanwoo with another girl, then that means he’s openly seeing someone else behind your back.

His hand reached for his phone, sparing quick glances between the screen and where he was walking as his fingers swiped for your contact, immediately dialing. Pressing the phone to his ear, he let his other hand pull out his car keys and unlock the door just as the line started ringing.

You picked up after two rings.

“Wonwoo? What’s with the sudden phone call?”

“Where are you?” He waited in the front seat, keys dangling from the ignition. Your answer would decide whether he starts the car or not.

“In the cafeteria near the engineering majors, why?”

“Are you with Hanwoo?” You were taken aback by his question, not because of what he asked, but by the fact that he got your boyfriend’s name right.

“Yeah, I am… Why?”

His shoulders sunk with your confirmation. “Just… just checking, sorry to bother you guys.” You muttered something that he didn’t catch before he hung up, exhaling a heavy sigh. Maybe it was paranoia. He had known you since you both were in middle school, of course he was protective over you, like every friend out there, he never wants you to get hurt.

Little did he know that as you put down your phone, a grimace had taken over your features as you looked at Joy.

“What did Wonwoo ask?”

You wanted to tell her the truth, but even you couldn’t wrap your head around the obvious that was happening. Wonwoo thinks you’re with Hanwoo, but you’re not and Joy’s tip about your boyfriend never having been involved in the election committee—you knew, and if your best friend had asked and even remembered Hanwoo’s name, then that must mean he knows, too.

“If I was with you,” you answered before her suspicion grew. “He wanted to check if I was up for lunch with him, but I’m with you already.”

“Ah… I think it’s good that he isn’t here,” Joy prefaced, pulling her phone out. “Do you remember I use to be a student supervisor for our major’s freshman camp?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So, I follow most of the kids that were in my group, right? And I was scrolling through my Instagram stories when you were buying lunch, and then—“ Joy scrolled through the following list of her account, stopping her explanation as she found who she was looking for. “—I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

She slid her phone face-up to you, an Instagram story of a junior you didn’t know of was opened. The picture wasn’t revealing much of anything that seemed of significance to you, just a photo of her holding hands with a guy and it was posted in her Close Friends—most likely an attempt at soft-launching her boyfriend.

For a moment you were confused, then you spotted it—the username. It was Hanwoo's Instagram account. Dread grew at the back of your head as your brain couldn't grasp on to this fact, even exiting out of the story and searching for his username, hoping it was one letter off and your suspicions would be wrong, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and both the username in the girl’s post and his username were the same.

“I’m sorry, Y/N…” Joy uttered, in hopes to break the silence and tension that was building, but it was to no avail. Your throat tightened, and tears burned in your eyes, but you knew they weren’t from sadness, or heartbreak even, you were furious.

The audacity this piece of shit has to think he can cheat on me? You locked Joy’s phone, sliding it back to her before picking up your things and standing from the table.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes were filled with genuine concern, worried that you were a ticking time bomb, just waiting to blow up at the worse time.

You sent her a reassuring smile, and shrugged. “Where else? To plan my revenge on him, of course.”

Wonwoo thought he was hearing things. As he paused his game, he waited and listened for a moment before shrugging, chalking it off to probably a feature in the game he never noticed.

Clink!

That couldn’t have been a feature in the game, he was breaking wood—a clinking sound against glass doesn’t seem like something you’d hear while hitting a tree repeatedly in Minecraft.

He removed his earphones this time, waiting for the sound again, and when he did, he stood and walked to his window, finding you standing outside his window.

“Finally, oh my God!” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “Do you know how many pebbles I had to look for to throw at your window?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows bunched together as he stared at you dumbfounded. “Why did you need to throw pebbles, we’re ground level. You could’ve just knocked.”

“That wouldn’t be so romantic, now would it?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he heaved a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to stop sneaking around like this, though, people are going to think you’re a burglar.”

“Whatever, Won,” you waved him off. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I—“ You paused. The fact that Hanwoo is actively cheating on you, probably even at this very moment, felt almost surreal to you, but ever since Joy showed you the picture, you’ve (to some extent) came to terms with it—there were signs after all, signs you chose to ignore or were so subtle, they flew over your head. However, coming to the realization that you’ve been cheated on felt easier than to utter it out loud—it felt more like a confirmation, that once the words were spoken out into the universe, it confirmed you were too blind in love to see the fact that he played you like a violin.

And it felt worse to admit to Wonwoo that his suspicions of your boyfr— ex-boyfriend being a douchebag were right.

“I need your help to trash Hanwoo’s car tonight, he’s at a friend’s house and left his car by his apartment.” Might as well hold off telling the truth until after you’ve released your anger.

Wonwoo could see you were holding something back, and by your proposition, making a guess as to why you did so, was easy.

“I’m not going to ask, but I will need you to explain later.” You subconsciously thanked him for not asking for a reason to your borderline act of vandalism. “Come around to the garage, I think I have a baseball bat from when I played little league.”

Ignoring the last bit of Wonwoo’s childhood anecdote, you watched as he left his room before taking the route to circle towards the front of his house where the garage was. You heard a lock turn and a bar slide before door opened, revealing Wonwoo, nodding his head to follow him.

“Do you, like, a Swiss Army knife or something sharp?”

“I think my dad has one his tool box, let me check,” he says, then points to shelf behind the car. “You can check there for the baseball bat.”

“Alright.”

Once the equipments were prepared—consisting of Wonwoo’s baseball ball, his dad’s Swiss Army knife, and your dad’s spray paint from one of his furniture restoration projects—you were all set to get back at Hanwoo. You both tossed them into the back of his car, climbing in and Wonwoo started up for Hanwoo’s apartment.

“And how do you know he left his car?” Wonwoo asked after three minutes of complete silence (AUX cord was broken and nothing that could fit a drive to vandalize your ex’s car was on the radio).

“Because I texted him earlier, asking if he could drive me to the store because there was a book I needed to get, and he explained to me that he was at a friend’s house and left his car,” you explained, your tone flat throughout as you mindlessly played with the zipper of your hoodie.

“And you’re sure he’s with friends?” He asked, his tone cautious, as he watched you freeze briefly.

You weren’t sure. Instead of admitting that, you chuckled, “He wouldn’t be with his girlfriend without a car.”

Despite your efforts at breaking the ice, Wonwoo wasn’t able to laugh at your joke, and only you could muster a dry chuckle before leaning back, turning to face the window.

You seemed to float throughout—as if watching yourself in a third person point of view, almost numb to the fact that you were on your way to ruin your ex’s car. It wasn’t that you were in denial that he is cheating on you, you refused to believe it was happening to you. You always felt that you were doing so much, showing him so much love, prioritizing him when he needed, never doubting that you felt the same way for you.

What did I do wrong? What about me wasn’t enough?

You hated those thoughts that began flooding your head. You hated those doubts. You hated that because of what he did, you’re blaming yourself—making it seem that you were the one that wasn’t doing enough.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s baritone voice pulled you out of your self-loathing. “We’re here.”

“Oh, you remembered the way,” you finally took note of him never asking you directions throughout the drive.

“Unfortunately.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his snide comment. Looking out to his side of the window, you see Hanwoo’s white range rover. You knew he cherished it—making sure to get the oil changed routinely, weekly car washes and having it waxed monthly. In retrospect, he probably loved the car more than he did you.

Maybe destroying he loved could make you feel less shitty.

“Let’s go—“ Before you could climb out, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?”

Again, the truth choked you. As you stared at Wonwoo, the concern laced all over his features, it felt the question should’ve triggered a flood gate to open, but alas, you persist. I need to not use poor humor as a coping mechanism. You cocked your head to the side, the corner of your lips lifted. “Why? I honestly thought you’d be the most excited of us to trash his car, Won?”

Of course, being your best friend since middle school, he saw right through your façade.

His hand moved from your wrist to clasp your hands, wrapping his fingers around yours. “Just promise you’ll talk to me, yeah?”

The bile rose, once again, urging you to cough out the truth. Knowing well enough you wouldn’t be able to utter anything without your words breaking, you nodded and sent a stiff smile.

As you stood near Hanwoo’s car, looking through the window of his vehicle, memories of the two of you seated side-by-side there came flooding in. How when you would go to a drive-thru for late night snack runs, the way you reached over the console with a fry and feeding it to him as his eyes focused on the road. When you’d pull over into a parking lot, your legs stretched over to rest over his lap as the two of you talked about everything and nothing at all, or when he would purposely make wrong turns just so you would spend more time with each other when he was supposed to drop you home.

Moments that you held so close to your heart, now worth nothing in a blink of an eye.

You squeezed your eyes shut, urging the tears to fall back and return to their sockets, inhaling a deep breath and pushing it out almost immediately as you flipped the knife to one of its sharpest options and pressing the point to the driver’s door. There’s no backing out now. You let the knife drag itself across the paint, a ragged line following your hand as you made your lap around his car.

Now, there really wasn’t going back now.

Before you could hold yourself back, your arm extended back and punctured one of the tyres—then one became two, and then three. Air spewing out of three of the tyres filled the tension around you, and you found yourself breathless. Breathless because you were angry. Breathless because you were hurt. The tears had escaped, creating warm trails down your cheeks.

“Give me the bat,” you urged, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks.

“Y/N—“

“Wonwoo,” you pressed, “it’s either you give me the bat, or you go home—I’m going to do this whether you agree with it or not.”

Wonwoo shouldn’t even be against what you’re doing right now. He’s obviously on your side when it comes to this, Hanwoo deserves getting his car destroyed for hurting, manipulating and thinking he could go behind your back this way. However, the more logical and law-abiding side of him is reluctant—especially since you’ve already slashed his tyres and ruined the paintwork, so breaking the windows seemed to cross the line.

“If we get arrested, just tell them I did it, alright?” Wonwoo uttered, handing you the bat and taking the knife with him. You smiled for the first time tonight, a genuine smile that reached your eyes as he said that. He then added, “I’ll get the spray paint—you do your thing.”

And after a bashed in windshield, a very poorly written “FUCKING CHEATER” was spray painted on all sides of the car and on the hood. You and Wonwoo drove away from the scene of the crime, driving to a nearest convenient store where Wonwoo hopped out, buying instant ramen, drinks and snacks, deciding to make a last-minute picnic in his car because in his words: “Vandalism works up an appetite.”

“They didn’t have the carbonara one, so I got you cheese.” Wonwoo returned in less than ten minutes, the noodles already boiled, only needing the seasonings. You smiled at him, mumbling a thanks as you took the cup noodles from him, tearing the seasoning and busying yourself with stirring, and continuously stirring, your eyes dazed off at the curly noodles as they spun in a faint orange mix.

“Y/N, I’m sure your noodles are well stirred,” Wonwoo commented, hoping to divert your attention. The leather beneath him squeaked as he adjusted his position, leaning his back against the door as he folded his knee under him, fully facing you at this point.

He called, “Hey.”

You lifted your head to meet his eyes, and immediately, Wonwoo straightened up, his jaws clenched and shoulders tensed. Tear stricken cheeks, bloodshot eyes and everso present frown evident in between your eyebrows and downturned lips.

“Y/N…” Wonwoo took the noodles from your hands, placing it on the dashboard and pulling you by the wrists, engulfing you into his arms, then there goes the floodgates—the emotions you locked away throughout the evening, released in that very second your face was against his shoulder.

While you were bawling, grieving the relationship that reigned to be good to be true, Wonwoo was hatching up his own revenge plan on the piece of shit.

The incessant ringing of your phone pulled you out of your slumber, and you knew for a fact it wasn’t your alarm, because one; you snoozed that ten times already, and two; it wasn’t your usual Radar tone.

Sliding the screen with one eye open, you placed it by your ear without seeing who it was.

“Hello—“

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY CAR, Y/N?!”

Well that was one way of waking you up. You sat up, slowly, taking your time with adjusting your position while Hanwoo was screaming on the other line. Once you were sitting up, you glanced at the screen—the name you had changed last night once you got back home displayed as ‘IGNORE’, in hopes that you would do so when he called you. But then again, you thought he’d call you when you were conscious.

“—Y/N FUCKING ANSWER ME!” Rolling your eyes, you heaved a sigh before placing the phone back by your ear.

“And to what do I owe—“

“You were you even fucking listening to me?“ Hanwoo snapped.

“No.” Your answer was simple, honest, and obviously uninterested with whatever he wanted to say. Was the modification that you made to his beloved vehicle not enough of an announcement that you knew what he was up to all this time?

“I was asking what the hell did you to my car?”

“Can’t you tell?” you teased, “I gave it a makeover.”

“You ruined my paint job and popped my tyres, what kind of makeover is this?”

“The kind that fits a cheater like you.” Silence. Complete silence came from the other side and if you listened closely, you could hear the static along with his ragged breathing knowing well enough he was caught. “Cat got your tongue, dude?”

“Y/N…”

“Save the sob story, we’re not dating, I don’t see why you’re fucking calling me other than to cry about your stupid car—“

“How about the fact that your fucker of a dog punched me?” He interjected.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean, Y/N,” he scoffed, “it wasn’t enough to ruin my car, you had to send your dog to ruin my face too.”

It took you a second to realize he was talking about Wonwoo, which means that Wonwoo had punched his face.

Wonwoo punching someone in the face? That wasn’t something you had heard before, nor expected. The image itself was enough to cause you to burst out laughing, your phone falling from your hands, leaving Hanwoo confused and annoyed.

The idea that Wonwoo would go as far as to punch someone was such an unrealistic accusation Hanwoo had made, but nonetheless, had successfully made you laugh after a long night of crying yourself to sleep.

“Are you done?” Hanwoo asked once you placed the phone back to your ear after your laughing fit.

“Wasn’t enough for you to lie about your relationship all this time, now you want to lie and accuse Wonwoo of something he’d never do,” you defended, scoffing at his poor attempt.

“I’m not lying about this, Y/N!”

“So, you admit that you were lying about our relationship?” This time you interjected, wanting to hear him confirm it. It was mostly due to that nagging voice at the back of your head that still doubted what Joy had shown you, that the picture was friendly and not romantic.

It was so pathetic how even after everything, there was a sliver in you that hoped he would deny it.

“Y/N- let me explain—“ In other words: ‘I was, but you haven’t heard my reason’.

“Fuck off, Hanwoo, don’t ever call me again,” you warned, “and if I hear you spread bullshit about Wonwoo like you did just now, it’ll be more than just your car that I ruin. Bye.”

He managed to slip something before you got the chance to hang up. “What about my fucking eye, Y/N?”

“Why don’t you ask Gia to help you with that?” Grateful to have the last word, you hung up immediately, tossing your phone to the side. The phone call wasn’t closure, but it was enough to put those indenial thoughts to rest.

Wonwoo punched him? The thought wouldn’t leave your head as you got ready for the day. Trying to imagine Wonwoo walking up to Hanwoo and giving him a black eye wasn’t something you could see him doing. Besides that, when did Wonwoo get the time to punch Hanwoo if he did? He ended up driving you home around three in the morning, and it was past six now, meaning he had a three hour window.

Unless…

No, that would mean after dropping you off, he had stormed straight to wherever Hanwoo was just to punch him.

You had to make sure, even if it was hard to believe, you had to make sure Wonwoo was okay. As long as you’ve been friends, you’ve never seen him get into any physical altercations with anyone, and if it did happen, it might be possible that Hanwoo wouldn’t have let him walk away unscathed.

Your legs carried you to his house, to his front door and after greeting his parents, to his bedroom door. You knocked, listening in to hear rummaging noises, as if he was panicking.

“Wait, Eomma, I just finished showering—“ He called out from the other side, which you found odd because you knew him, he wouldn’t even be awake at this hour.

“Wonwoo, it’s me.”

The noise on the other side of the door paused for a moment, before Wonwoo called out. “Y/N?”

“Yes, can you open the door?” You asked, waiting for it to swing open but it didn’t.

“No, I’m- uh, I’m watching something, you don’t need to see it,” Wonwoo tried to think of an excuse but cursed at himself because why the hell did that come out instead? You, on the other hand, found his obvious panic hilarious, his excuse eliciting a chuckle.

“I know you met with Hanwoo,” you informed him, making sure to keep your voice down so his parents wouldn’t hear. “So, can you please open the door and let me check the damage?”

You waited a few minutes, hearing him toss a few things away, the noise causing your brows to furrow. The lock turned and the door swung enough for you to squeeze yourself in, knowing well enough that Wonwoo wasn’t about to reveal himself in fear his parents would see (they wouldn’t have, they were on the other side of the house, he was just paranoid). Once you were in, he pushed the door closed, his back against it and you could see what damage Hanwoo had done to your next door neighbour.

It wasn’t bad, admittedly you thought it’d be worse considering his lack of experience.

It was a scratch and bruising surrounding his left cheek, that was most caused by a ring Hanwoo was wearing, but other than that, and a tear in his lip, that was all he took.

“I honestly thought you’d look worse,” you thought out loud, Wonwoo’s brows furrowing at the comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shook your head, lightly laughing. “Nothing, do you have anything I can use to clean that?”

“Uh… I do, actually.” He dips to look on his bedside table. “Stopped by a drugstore after because I saw the blood.”

“And when did you get the time to pull it all off?”

“Well, after I dropped you off, I asked Seungcheol since he knows—“ Wonwoo stopped, realizing that this information wasn’t ever supposed to reach you. “Uhm… How did you know I was hurt?”

“Because a psychopath told me,” you informed, and his eyes darkened for a moment, rolling in annoyance.

“I told him to never bother you again,” he groaned, before his gaze softened as he turned to you. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

“He just called my phone, I’m alright,” you reassured him. Taking a step towards him, your fingers gently touched the wound on his cheek, inspecting it. You could see that he didn’t tend to it once it started bleeding, evidence of dried blood surrounding the wound and there wasn’t any antiseptic used either to ensure an infection didn’t happen.

While you were playing nurse, Wonwoo became very aware of the lack of space between your face and his, and he had to hold his breath. It only worsened when your eyes darted to his, the two of you holding eye contact for what he thought was an eternity.

“Let me clean it up for you, Won,” you uttered, breaking the silence and eventually the tension as you turned to walk into his ensuite bathroom. He followed after trying to calm his heartbeat, finding you on top of his sink, soaking a cotton pad with antiseptic and tearing a bandaid from its package.

“Come here,” you urged. Wonwoo stood between your thighs, not wanting to meet your eyes, but you didn’t mind—almost finding him being flustered cute.

“Ow,” he winced when the antiseptic touched the wound after you had wiped it clean of the dried blood.

“It’s a small sting, stop being a baby,” you teased, earning a glare from him. “How come you only came out with this?”

“Got me at the last minute,” he answered.

“And how was he?” Your question was responded with an eyebrow raise instead, causing you to roll your eyes. “I don’t care about him, Won, I just want to know if it was worth it—if you, at least, are satisfied with this decision.”

The corner of his lips turned up, a smug look etched across his face as he answered, “It was. I hurt him enough to send the message and keep it with him for the next couple of weeks.”

“I never knew you could fight,” you said honestly.

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Y/N,” he mumbled, but because of your close proximity, you heard it loud and clear. Before you ask further, he spoke up, “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“After this we can have breakfast, I think my mom made doenjang jjigae,” he informed. You smiled, nodding, “Sure.” You finished tending to his wound by plastering on the Kuromi bandaid, teasing him about it, to which he used the ‘there wasn’t anything else’ excuse.

He grabbed your elbow as you hopped off his sink, the action caused you to stumble out of balance instead of helping, made you bump closer to him, his free arm automatically holding your waist.

Cue the eye contact and pink-tinted cheeks, the move could’ve made you laugh as if it was straight out of a cheesy rom-com, but you were too occupied with trying to think that you couldn’t do so. I’m heartbroken, I’m vulnerable and haven’t been feeling loved for the past week, this is just a fluke, you tried to rationalize the thoughts and your racing heart, knowing well what could work to get out of this.

You tapped his chest, gently pushing him. “Go shower, Wonwoo, you reek.”

“Shut up, I do not,” he protested, laughing to cover his shaky voice. He then added, “Thanks, Y/N, although you didn’t have to do all this.”

“And let you get an affection?” You retorted.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, and without thinking he uttered, “A kiss would’ve sufficed.” It was too late for him to take back his words, noting your wide eyes and mouth slightly agape, his cheeks flushed when he realized what he had said. “Y/N, I wasn’t thinking—“

You pressed a kiss against cheek, beneath his bandage, shutting him completely. “Take it as a thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

It took him a second to compose himself, grinning, “I am your knight in shining armor, after all.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “Are you riding a horse, my knight?”

“Yes, a pink horse,” he answered, smiling endearingly down at you.

You frowned at his choice of color, “But you hate pink?”

“And you love pink.”

“Gosh, Wonwoo,” you flushed red, taking a step away from him, finding his comment both cringey and touching at the same time—it was shocking you could feel those two simultaneously. “When did you get so cheesy?”

He merely shrugged, a faint smirk on his lips. “I told you there was a lot you don’t know about me.”

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