⚠️this is fiction, and is in no way the glorification or romanticizing of abuse and/or assault, if you are in this situation, please talk to someone and find help. My discord is always open if you need someone to talk to⚠️
You hit me once, I hit you back. You gave a kick, I gave a slap. You smashed a plate over my head, then I set fire to our bed.
- Kiss With A Fist, Florence + The Machine
It was late November, and you and Logan had planned a nice night out. You'd gotten dressed up, and booked a nice restaurant, and you sat, patiently waiting for him outside, right where you were supposed to meet half an hour ago. You checked your phone, your heart slowly sinking. Was he standing you up? You sat and waited, and waited. He never came. Your phone buzzed, and you jumped to check it, but it wasn't Logan. In fact, it was your sister. Your sister that you hadn't talked to in over a decade. You furrowed your brow, checking the text.
Milo: Hey, I know it's been a while. How have you been? Do you want to meet up?
You read the text over and over, swallowing. You stood, stuffing the phone back in your pocket and making your back to your room, accepting that he wasn't coming.
***
Logan was chatting with some of his friends, laughing as they walked down the busy New York street.
"Hey man, we're going to get some drinks, you wanna come?" One of them asked.
"Can't, gotta get home to the misses, date night," he reminded him. For some reason, you could never admit to his mates that you were a man. He knew it was wrong, but hell, everyone has secrets.
"Come on, one drink and then you can go,"
"Fine, one drink," he sighed, defeated.
***
Logan stumbled into your room drunk as a skunk, mumbling to himself. You were in your little half kitchen, shoving cheese and crackers in your mouth, feeling sorry for yourself. You looked up when the door opened, all your anger returning. You were in just pajama pants, running a hand through your damp, post-shower hair. He blinked as he saw you, his brow furrowed.
"Hey baby~" he purred.
"Your fucking drunk?!" You frowned.
"Yea, I am. And I'm fucking allowed to be, bastard," he stood up straight, looking you up and down.
"Where were you all night, Logan?" You knew exactly where he was. He didn't answer. Just towered over you, growling quietly.
"What does it matter, huh?" You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and unprompted fear shuddered through you. You'd never had a reason to fear Logan before, but for some reason, the way he was looking at you sent a nervous shiver down your spine.
"I'm sorry, let's just get to bed-"
Slap!
You stumbled back in shock, your hand flying to your face. He'd just smacked you upside the cheek, and you could only look up at him with disgust and fear.
"Get out." You swallowed.
"No, this is my fucking room," he raised an eyebrow, grabbing a beer form the fridge. You could only stand in shock, your hands shaking. Your face stung, and tears rolled down your cheeks. You hadn't fully regained your composure yet, and anger took over you. You yanked the
bottle from his hand and threw it across the room. It hit the wall, shattering. You both stood in silence for a moment, before he turned to you, seething with anger.
You pushed him against the wall, giving him a warning glare.
"Fuck you!" He spat in your face, grabbing a plate and chuckling it at your head. You screamed, ducking as the plate smashed against the wall behind you. A little shard grazed your cheek, and blood dripped down your face. You threw a strong punch to his nose, but being pure adamantium has some advantages. You let out a shriek as your hand shattered, and you fell to your knees. This seemed to shake him from his angry trance, because he couched before you, his brow furrowed with guilt.
"Let me see," you flinched, scooting away from him. He frowned, studying your face.
You stood, cradling your broken hand as you walked away, leaving him in a shocked state on the kitchen floor.
***
Little tears streamed down your face as you walked yourself to the med bay, where Beast was reading on the ceiling.
He looked up when you cleared your throat.
"Hello Y/N, what can I help you with at this time of night?"
That's when he noticed the cut on your cheek and the way you cradled your hand; And the tears. He dropped to the floor, rushing over to you.
"Here, sit, sit," you sat on the table, sniffing. He wiped the blood off your face, examining the cut.
"Just a graze, keep it clean and it should heal no problem. Now what about that hand?"
***
About an hour later, you returned to your room with pain meds and a cast. Logan was sitting in the living room, his leg bouncing nervously.
"Are you ok darlin'?" He had sobered up a bit, and he stood, rushing over to you.
"I'm so sorry-"
"Don't." You glared at him, and he swallowed, nodding.
"Enjoy the couch tonight," you said matter of factly, disappearing into the bedroom and slamming the door behind you.
YOU ARE READING
Lover Boy (mlm wolverinexmalereader)
Fanfiction"Give em' hell for us baby," you smiled, blowing him a kiss *** The Wolverine isn't gay. Y/N most definitely is. Now what happens when two opposite forces collide? [mlm BL] [smut violence smoking swearing etc.] [started September 26] [finished Oct...
