Title: The Repercussions of the Newly Mated (Sequel to “Bite”)
Rated: Explict
Relationship: Alpha James “Logan” Howlett/Omega AFAB Reader
Warning: Explicit Sexual Content, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex (F! Recieving), Feral Reader, Mate Telepathy Goes Wrong, Best Friend Wade Wilson, Soft Logan, Hurt/Comfort (sort of), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Omegaverse Adjacent, Happy Ending, Logan’s Rage
Ao3 Link (please note there were some edits on this version. Also, color font is not an option so the format is slightly different.)
Summary: It's been a month since Logan and you have been mated. You two are still working out the kinks in your relationship and how you two communicate. Oh, and there is Wade too. ;)
A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I really enjoyed writing this. Thank you to one of my best friends, Winchesterfields67, for beating my fic too.
Please be aware for those who are not a fan of Poolverine, you might not want to read the end. I'm not sorry. I'm a big fan of Poolverine and a fan of poly ships and poly relationships.
You woke up to Logan’s tongue encircling your clit. You quickly awakened to fingers sliding into your drenched entrance. You gasped and thrusted against his fingers. “Mornin’,” his rough sleep voice teased. You hummed before moaning as his fingers found that delicious spot inside.
Panting, he rapidly pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, your toes curled, and arched your back as your sleep-filled, hoarse voice moaned. He thrusted in and out, and in and out riding out your orgasm until your channel calmed some. He slowly removed his fingers which made you open your eyes with a pout on your lips. He chuckled, sucking all your juices off his fingers before crawling up your body to box you in with his. “Got one more in ya?”
You huffed and quirked a brow. ”Dude, I just woke up, and as much as I’d love to continue this.” You frowned. “I’m still mad at you about last night.”
He rolled on his back with a heavy sigh. “We talked about this.” You sat up and turned, getting off the bed. “No, you talked at me last night and didn’t listen, let alone address any of my issues I brought up to you. You didn’t even apologize.”
He sat straight up. “I need to apologize. You were the one who had a drink in one hand and let two guys rub up all over you,” he growled. He jumped out of bed and stalked over to the bathroom.
Toothbrush in hand, you began to explain. “First of all, I had my jacket on and covered the majority of my skin—“
“So you planned that?” He accused loudly.
“No!” You turned back to the mirror, turned on the water, and got your toothbrush wet.
“No,” you spoke quietly.
“I did not know what to expect last night so it was a precaution. You invited me out with the X-Men. You ignored me most of the night—“ He huffed incredulously.
“Most of the night you were talking to your X-Men buddies other than us reaching out and needing to connect…to touch. Don’t act like you didn’t know how I felt. We’re mated, Logan.”
He walked out of the bathroom throwing up his hands. You stepped out and looked at him to continue. “You knew I felt lonely and like a third wheel. I even sat and tried talking. It was Kitty who told me you fell out of the fucking jet and she saved you with her phasing. You didn’t even tell me!”
He turned around, tilted his head, and sighed. He softly addressed, “Nothing happened, sweetheart. I didn’t even get hurt—“
“You could have. That’s my point. You don’t talk to me. You just want to fuck and cuddle. I want to understand you. I don’t understand why you have nightmares or what they're about. I want to know your triggers to support you if they happen. I want to know why you have metal on your claws. I want to know how you got the name Wolverine. I want to know about your parents and your childhood. Did you have siblings? What you’ve been doing before the X-Men! I just want to know the person I’m spending the rest of my life with, Logan! Or do I call you James, which I didn’t even know until Ororo was going over paperwork with me? Where did ‘Logan’ come from?!” You realized you were yelling, and yelling never communicated what anyone needed. Your mind suddenly felt strange, alone. “Did you just block me out?!”
He scowled at you.
You put on the jeans you wore yesterday, grabbed your teddy bear Logan had given you that smells like him, and his favorite flannel before walking out of your shared room. You scowled at anyone who looked at you. Walking over to the student dorms, you headed over to Laura’s room. When you knocked and received no answer, you headed over to Yukio's, a level down. You knocked and Yukio’s chipper voice answered. “Come in.”
When you walked in, Ellie looked at you so confused. “Who died?”
You looked at Laura. “Your Dad is a possessive asshole.” She huffed a laugh. “Yeah.”
“He won’t listen to me or even consider my feelings at all.”
“Sounds right for an Alpha male,” Ellie said, chewing her gum while she looked at her phone.
“I’m sorry it’s such a rocky start,” Yukio sympathized.
You look at them as you speak. “You know, I get this is some fated, destiny thing and it’s basically an arranged marriage but you’d think he’d try harder.”
“He is,” informed Laura, quietly.
You looked at her with a quirked brow.
“He blocked me out,” you gritted through your teeth, seethingly.
Laura raised her eyebrows and eyes wide.
Your anger was beginning to increase dramatically. “I hate this. I’m glad my shit is over with those fucking violent urges but what the hell am I supposed to do with an alpha who just wants to—“ You growled suddenly. Eyes changed to amber, tore the teddy bear in half, and changed into your wolf, shredding the clothes you were wearing. You ran out of the room and down the stairs. Your wolf-self grumbled out the front door of the dorm before running toward the woods.
You ran and ran and ran until you were out of breath. The anger in you was turning to red-hot rage and you didn’t understand. Your wolf and human sides were battling. The loss of control makes you shift back to your human form, naked and boiling rage in your veins. Your fangs lengthened and nails grew as you clawed into the closest tree trying to expend this rage within you.
Meanwhile, Laura was nearly at your room when Logan turned a corner. She stopped and held out the pile you left in Yukio’s room. He frowned and grew angry at the ripped teddy bear.
“You have to talk to her, Logan. She feels everything you do, and right now, she suddenly raged,” Laura explained, frowning.
“Shit,” he quietly exclaimed. “Would you see—“ he began holding the teddy bear out to her.
“Si. Vámonos.” She smiled and headed back to the student’s dorms. He paused right before the stairs and went back to your room to grab sweatpants and a shirt, seeing you shred your clothes.
Once outside, Logan followed your scent, easily tracking you. When he found you, he opened his mind back to you, only to be onslaught by your inner turmoil. You appeared human, naked with bloody hands, tears rolling down your freckled cheeks, flecks of small cuts scattered on your skin, growling, shredding a tree to bits, before you pushed at it.
In your mind, your wolf was in control and wholly confused. It lashed out at everything nearby, including him. A headache began to form that he ignored. You were most important right now.
As the tree fell, he didn’t realize how strong you were. The loud thud he felt and crashed on the forest floor did nothing to your mood. You began to kick and punch at it before falling to your knees. When you screamed, he felt his rage reflected to him. His eyes widened at the realization. Somehow, you had tapped into his feral rage and this was the outcome. You were attempting to rid yourself of nearly two centuries of pain and white-hot rage within him. He couldn’t even do that.
He slowly stepped closer and closer, and then he heard you whisper. “Stop, stop, stop. Please just stop.” You sobbed and returned to punching the tree trying to expel all of Logan’s pent-up rage you were feeling. You were feeling all of it with no understanding as to what or why.
He knelt next to you and whispered, “I’m sorry.” You turned to him, face flushed, amber eyes, and then he noticed the blood you were leaving on the tree. “We need to get you to Hank.”
“Fuck off, Wolverine,” you snarled at him before returning to the tree. You’ve never called him anything other than Logan in anger. “I’m not in the mood for your alpha bullshit.” Logan could feel your exhaustion beating at you but the rage fueled your body’s adrenaline nonetheless.
He knew if he could get you to stop for just a minute, exhaustion would win. “Let’s get you dressed, darlin’?”
He slowly got behind you, quickly wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you back laying on top of him faced away. You growled and wriggled before clawing at his arms. You dug your toenails into his legs, shredding his calves and the blue jeans he had on.
You screamed, suddenly, your head going side to side as you did. He repeated over and over again “I’m sorry. I’m sorry” as he held you. He pushed his emotions, showing his sincerity for hurting you and allowing you to experience this alone. He was sincere and remorseful.
“Lies! You’re lying! You’re lying. You left me alone,” you screamed and he felt your abandonment. The rage was consuming you. You and your wolf were losing control. Logan did the one thing he hoped would snap you out of this: terrified, he opened his heart and showed that he loved you, deeply. Within seconds you stopped moving, tears fell heavily, and you slowly went pliant in his arms. He wrapped his love around you like a warm blanket and himself with it. You held on to him and his heart as you slowly drove the rage into a corner of your mind for now. You opened your own heart to show that you love him in return, pushing memories to him of every action you had witnessed that caught your heart before you two were ever mated. Tears fell from his eyes, he didn’t know he could experience this. That this could be done. You revealed that you knew this because of his nightmares but never said, not wanting to expose him or trigger him when you saw what he experienced without any further context. You didn’t want him to feel guilty or bad for seeking comfort and support in his darkest, most vulnerable time when he had no control over his mind demanding to process these traumatic events.
You sobbed, shoulders shaking. “I hate this!” You sniffled.
“I’m sorry you experienced this…my rage,” he hesitated on the last two words.
“I don’t care,” you breathed. “I don’t care. I just…want…you.” You wiggled slightly. “Could you loosen up? My arms hurt.”
He did as you asked, knowing you weren’t going to attack him. You turned a full 180, laying chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis as your exhaustion began to take over. He could hear your breathing and heartbeat begin to slow. He held you as he sat up. “You need clothes.”
You hummed, questioning, nearly asleep. He grabbed the flannel, carefully pulling one of your arms in, and then the other before button a few buttons to mostly cover your chest. He repositioned you onto a bridal-style pickup. Your head resting on his bicep as he got the sweatpants on you one-handed. “Let’s get you inside,” he quietly cooed. You hummed acknowledgment. Your red-rimmed, puffy eyes closed, tear-stained, red cheeks cooling, and your head nuzzled against his chest.
He slowly walked into the mansion, shushing anyone who was talking. Jean walked away before Logan even got close, only for Hank to come running up with a first aid kit that he gently laid on your abdomen. He smiled at Logan and whispered, “Let me know if you need help.” Logan smiled and nodded before heading up the stairs to your room.
Hank, Charles, Logan, and you discussed the connection Logan and you shared with Charles helping you two build and strengthen your relationship.
Once in your room, he locked the door and laid you on your bed. He set aside the first aid kit on the nightstand. He grabbed a cup of warm water from the bathroom sink with a washcloth and a towel before unbuttoning the flannel and wiping off your chest and all around your breasts. He picked up the first aid kit before using the tweezers to pick out the splinters, wiping each spot clean. Using the dry towel, he gently wiped the water off to keep you warm. He buttoned the flannel back up before continuing. He pushed up the sweatpants legs, one at a time, and wiped each one down, front and back. He continued to check for splinters, removing them, and cleaning the areas before he dried you off with a towel. He even did your feet, carefully removing the few splinters in your heels, before washing and drying them. Saving your face and hands for last, knowing they may wake you from the possible pain.
He rinsed out the washcloth in warm water and replaced the warm water in the cup before he slowly and gently wiped the dirt and sweat off your face. He removed splinters from your face and cleaned it up prior to gently taking the closest injured hand. He slowly wiped your fingernails off first. A grumble came from your sleeping form with a slight tug. He kept your hand in his as he began to examine your knuckles and forearms to find any more splinters. While there were none on your forearms, the knuckles of the top of your hand had several from you punching the tree.
He visually skimmed over your fingertips and inside of your hand, only finding a few on your fingers. Your nails were the most damaged, having broken them clawing at the tree and anywhere else you may have gone. He took out the splinters and slowly washed the palm, and up each individual finger before approaching the knuckles. The splinters were large and more like small pieces of wood. He pulled one out without much issue. The second one was deeper than expected.
You whimper and try to remove your hand from it. He shushes her and kisses the top of her hand. “Almost done,” he coos. He yanks a bit harder and removes it. You whimper. He licks the wound, helping it close and heal. He kisses where the wound is and wipes it off. He sets your hand down next to you. When he switched to the other hand, he examined your palm, finding no splinters and flipped your hand over, finding some on the knuckles at the top of the hand like the other. These were smaller, easier to remove and you hardly pulled from Logan. He wipes each knuckle before kissing each one. His eyes remain on your dozing form. He sees many of the small cuts and scrapes are gone but the bigger ones are still healing.
Setting your hand down next to you, he returns to the bathroom and rinses everything, putting the washcloth and towel in the dirty laundry hamper before returning to the bed. He undresses to his boxer briefs before sliding in on his side of the bed. He gingerly rolls you on your side and pulls you towards his chest. You rest your head on his bicep and nuzzle into his neck. He waits, knowing you overheat easily. Within five minutes, you wiggle around working your clothes off with just a touch of sweat on your brow. “I got you,” he coos at you.
You frown and nod, eyes remaining closed as your mate holds the sleeves taunt for you to pull your arms out, right then left. You hear the shirt fall to the floor. You lay on your back and start shuffling the sweatpants down, only for Logan to finish pulling them off. He then takes off his boxer briefs since you rarely like clothes on either of you two when sleeping. Once he is back in bed, he wraps his arms back around you. Your head returns to his right bicep and nose against his scent gland. Your right arm is thrown over his ribs, and your right leg is thrown over his left hip. He pulls a sheet over you both and watches you fall back to sleep.
“I don’t care,” you whisper.
“About what?” He whispers back, brows furrowed as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear.
“About your past. I don’t care.” Your sleep eyes flutter open, their usual human color. “I love you for who you are right now, Logan.” You turn your head and yawn. He cards his fingers through your hair. Returning your eyes to his. “That’s who I have always loved. That’s why I was so afraid to hurt you, baby.” You hold his jaw in your palm. “I never want to hurt you, ever, but I know I’m going to. I know it can’t be helped. Just means talking to be listened to and listening to hear, to understand, and to adjust as needed. We choose each other every single day. I promise you this, Logan. I promise I will always love you and always choose you every single day of my life no matter what.”
He played with your hair, removing a few tangles and wrapping a few strands around his finger as he listened. He smiles softly. “I promise to always love you and to always choose you every single day of my life no matter what,” he repeated. Your sleepy eyes match the joy in your smile.
“Sleep,” he commanded.
You hummed and returned to your former position around him. He held you close, nuzzling into your hair periodically. He watches the few cuts left on your face and chest heal, using his tongue to wipe the remaining blood spots from you. Enjoying the little tastes of you he can get right now.
As you sleep, he begins to doze himself. He even starts purring, waking you. You shift and look at his chest listening. He opens his eyes at your movement and the purring stops. You pout and whimper looking up at his face. His face is so soft looking at you, only to start purring again. You grin widely and snuggle against his chest, your ear under his collarbone. He wraps both arms around you, holding you in place as you listen and find comfort in the vibrations. You, yourself, begin a returning purr.
It wasn't until that evening that you two left your room, fully dressed. Laura, Ellie, Yukio, Wade, Ororo, Pietro, Jean, and Scott were downstairs in the foyer chattering away trying to play charades. Laura was up. Logan and you stood at the entrance watching her. “Mountain Lion,” you called out.
“Yes!” Laura grinned, pointing to you two. Logan stood behind you in his usual dark jeans and a matching navy t-shirt fitted to him. His hands are on your shoulders, grinning at his daughter, and a thumb rubbing your mating mark. You were barefoot in a long denim skirt and navy peasant shirt that Logan had bought you.
Amazingly, Logan had even braided your hair, advising Laura lets him practice different braids on her hair. He whispered in your ear that he liked doing it but not to tell her. You had chuckled, making a note to tell her later. You walked in, greeting everyone. Wade was the first to hug you and then Laura.
Laura skipped then walked on the balls of her feet, excited to see you two alright. You glanced at Logan who gave a slight nod, his informed ‘ok’, to your next move. You showered your neck to Laura, while a sign of submission was also a pack symbol of trust. Laura wrapped her arms around your torso and pressed her nose against your scent gland. You grinned and laughed; it was a bit ticklish when Logan wasn’t teasing you. Logan walked around you and waited his turn. Laura rubbed her wrist on the other side of your neck and stuck her tongue out to her Dad before giving him a wide grin and hug. You played with her hair down her back, really rubbing your wrist in between Laura’s shoulder blades as a silly move back, scent marking her with your scent.
You realized Wade was waiting for you three to finish.
Laura stuck her tongue out at you before noticing Logan had shown his neck to her, and she inhaled maintaining space between his scent gland and her—a sign of pack alpha respect.
He rubbed his hand on her hair, a hidden way to scent mark her but not be blatant. When he stood back up, the others were chatting and Wade was hugging you. You nuzzled against his face and rubbed his back, scent marking him. “Hello, sweetie.” You pulled back, still holding him. “How’s the merc business treating you?”
He grinned and shrugged. “Oh, you know, not bad, not bad.”
“Fancy seeing you here, stranger,” Logan said from behind you.
“What can I say? I missed my kitty cats and puppy.” Logan extended his claws and snarled while Wade took out Baby Knife, whispering “Baby Knife”. You looked at Wade and reached out to Logan sensing there was no hostility, only amusement, so you decided to play along. You turned around, back against Wade, and held his hand to your chest. “No, my love. I cannot allow this charade to go on any longer,” exaggerating the drama and your body language.
Laura busted out laughing and bent over, holding her abdomen.
She understood the assignment.
What was the assignment, puppy?
Just play along, dude.
What is with you and the word ‘dude’?
You push Logan away and he takes one step back. His claws retracted and watched you two with amusement. You never let go of Wade’s hand. You turned back to him, throwing your arm over Wade’s other shoulder. “Wade, I love you and to prove your love to me, you must…,” you hesitated trying to think of something silly to do.
“Dance the tango,” called out Ellie who started playing the music, “Dance the tango,” you repeated without thought before your brain caught up. “Wait, what?”
Wade took your hand in his and the other arm wrapped around you, splaying his hand just below your shoulder blade. “Basic,” you stage whispered at Wade.
You tried so hard to stay focused on the drama but kept tripping over Wade’s feet, laughing. Logan stepped in, picked you up, and set you down before taking your place. Wade and Logan kept serious faces and even swapped baby knife from one mouth to the other. It was great. Everyone enjoyed the silliness but they weren’t done. When the two men were done, Logan looked at Laura with a playful grin and a wink. “Flamenco?” Yukio was already prepared and played some wonderful Argentine flamenco music.
You squealed at Logan’s dance moves. Wade watched him for less than a minute before joining in. What surprised you was that Laura and Yukio joined in too. Ellie sat there holding her girlfriend’s phone with a small smile on her face, watching her. You enjoyed the energy and felt Logan’s eyes on you. When your eyes met, he quirked a brow as his thoughts came easily to you.
Join me.
Are you kidding? (You know he isn’t.) I was tripping over Wade. Fuck no.
If you join me, I’ll give you a treat.
Sex is not a treat, Wolverine.
Logan gave you that sexy, flirty smile he does when he has plans to devour you.
Logan (you warned).
Are you sure you don’t want a treat, puppy?
You ass. I hate you. (You love it when he calls you puppy and he knows this so much)
You love me (he retorted).
That’s beside the point.
You watch everyone’s feet and try to work out the movement. He walked over to you and took your hand, walking you both back out. Wade made space for you. Then, unexpectedly, Logan sends images of foot positioning to your mind allowing you to slowly catch on to where you can even stay in rhythm with him. You two dance around each other, clapping.
This went on for another 45 minutes or so before everyone else got tired. You giggled as Logan held you in his arms. Everyone quickly says good night except Wade who tags along to the kitchen.
Logan points to the island. “Sit.” He walks to the fridge and begins pulling ingredients out. “I didn’t know you could dance, baby. Wow.”
“Wait till you hear him sing,” Wade informed confidently. You look wide-eyed at Wade before looking back at Logan. “You sing too?”
“Wade,” Logan warns.
“What? I’m just being honest.” Wade rests his elbows on the island and plops his head down on his open palms as he watches Logan and you.
You look back to Wade. “We’ve only been mated like a month, man. We’re still learning each other,” you defend your mate.
“You two are so cute together,” Wade coos. Logan snorts as he mixes stuff in a large bowl.
“So, he cooks too,” you observe aloud.
“He is multitalented,” Wade agrees. You nod and go back to watching Logan with Wade.
“You spending the night?” You quietly ask Wade.
“Not sure yet,” he admitted.
“Not sure because no one invited you or not sure because leaving Ms. Althea alone is a bad idea tonight?”
Wade doesn’t reply but does hold up his index finger.
“We do have a pull-out sofa in our room,” you offer.
A quiet rumble comes from Logan’s chest. You look at the back of his head. “He’s your best friend and you haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Sex can wait a night, my darling alpha.”
Wade giggles at your declaration.
You didn’t have to invite him (you can feel Logan pouting).
Again, sex can wait a night.
…
If you’re that frustrated, I’m sure Wade would enjoy being an audience member. (As the thought leaves your mind, you watch Logan’s reaction—the images that flood his mind of Wade in various states of undress and positions disappear as quickly they appear, saying much about Logan’s extreme attraction to his best friend.)
Logan drops the spatula. Wade quirks a brow at him before glancing at your cat-got-the-canary grin. ”That’s not fair. You’re doing the mate telepathy.”
You looked at him with that grin and winked. “Maybe you’ll find out. Maybe you won’t. It’s up to Logan.”
“Peanut, what’s the misses talking about?”
Logan had picked up the tool and got a new one before working on cooking dinner for the three of them. “Nuthin’.”
Oh, my love. It’s something all right. It’s hot (you pushed images of a shirtless Wade, who has come over to swim when it was warmer, sucking and biting Logan’s neck. Biting at his nipples. You imagined Wade sitting in the corner stroking his cock as Logan pounded into you.)
Looking at Wade, you recommended, “Hey, why don’t we watch the Coneheads tonight?”
“Or keep watching Letterkenny,” Wade countered.
You could smell Logan’s arousal but made no word or action about it anywhere. “You have to make the sweet and salty popcorn,” you demanded.
Wade sighed dramatically as if it was such a big deal. “Ok, if I must.”
(You pushed the image of Logan fucking Wade and vice versa a few seconds later.)
“Damn right,” Logan interjected with a grunt. The both of you turned to Logan with your brows furrowed, confused.
“You ok there, Honey badger?”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” you deflected and put your hand on Wade’s arm. “Hey, you were gonna tell me about Saskatchewan next time you came over, remember?”