I Can Fix Him (no really, I can)

by OliverOX

Summary:

Logan breaks Wade’s one hard and fast rule (don’t get hurt on purpose) & faces the consequences

[fics in this series are not connected]

Notes:

I missed trans Logan <3 he needed some (tough) love lol

I have like 3 more trans Logan fic ideas cooking !! One of them being Smoke verse and the rest standalone like this

“You have one fucking job, Lo,” Wade grits out between clenched teeth. “Don’t fucking throw yourself into the line of fire for no fucking reason other than to just get hurt. If not for your sake, then for mine.” 

“Fuck off,” Logan snarls back, shoving at Wade to distance himself as soon as they’re through the doorway of their apartment. 

Wade dodges his hand and grabs him by the front of his shirt, rough enough to nearly tear it, “ Stop shoving me, I’m not fucking playing with you.” He’s seething, madder at Logan than he’s been in ages. 

Not only had Logan gotten himself hurt intentionally, he’d done it in an act of defiance of Wade’s authority. While on an X-Men mission together, Wade had directed Logan right around their cover in order to avoid fire and being caught, but Logan had scoffed, shaken his head, and took off left . Chest puffed and attitude haughty, like he knew better than Wade in front of everyone . When Wade had spent the hours casing the place and the enemies they’d encounter; knew their fighting style and their movements by heart by the end of his recon. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Logan had even neglected to call for backup over the comms when he realized he’d fallen into the trap, surrounded by fifteen or so odd mutant-hating military personnel. Wade found him slumped against the wall, innumerable bullet holes riddling his body and half of his guts clutched feebly in his arms. All injury that could have been prevented had he merely listened to what Wade asked of him. 

They’d established ground rules pretty quickly after getting together, shortly home from the Void, upon realizing that they had a few issues that needed to be held accountable by the only other person who really cared about them. 

Logan was notoriously terrible at taking care of himself, lucky for him Wade was practically engineered for the job. 

“Who said I’m fucking playing?” Logan scoffs, shoving at Wade harder, “I’m fucking tired of you being up my ass so goddamn much. Leave me the fuck alone for once.” 

And really, the joke is right there, that he knows for certain that Logan likes him up his ass, but Wade’s seeing red around the edge of his vision and jokes are the last thing on his mind right now — finding Logan like that had been unsettling in ways he didn’t exactly have words for, which was why the rule was put in place originally. Even if it was something as casual (to Logan, at least) as getting cut on his own claws, seeing Logan bleeding or in pain always unnerved Wade immeasurably. 

Reminded him that the world had lost a Wolverine once before and it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Wade could lose his eventually. 

Of course, they can’t just come right out and say all of this to each other, so Wade’s found other ways of working through their issues when Logan needlessly hurts himself. 

And yeah, sometimes it ends up with Wade hurting him a little bit more. He’s not perfect. 

But it’s different, he swears. More controlled. And it’s the only way they’ve found that gets Logan to listen to him. 

“Strip.” Wade commands, crowding Logan into their bedroom without room to squirm away. They both know where this is heading, their long agreed upon system. 

Laughing cruelly, Logan refuses, “fucking make me.” 

“You can’t make anything easy, can you? Always have to be fucking difficult,” Wade fires back, hitting a little too close to home because he means it this time; it’s not sexy talk, it’s an actual critique, a commentary on Logan’s innate and obnoxious habit of pushing every good thing away. He starts to work Logan’s clothes off, pride thrumming in his chest, simmering under the anger at the way Logan doesn’t actually fight him on it. Had really just wanted Wade to do it himself. 

He remembers how Logan used to flinch, curling in on himself every time he got undressed during their early days. Covering up his scars on his chest, though hidden as they are amid his ample chest hair, Wade had admittedly not noticed them. And not letting Wade return the pleasure, refusing to let his partner indulge him between his legs. For a giver like Wade it was nearly torture. 

It took months for Logan to become comfortable with him, helped along by Wade’s gentle, steady reassurance (incredibly mindful not to veer into coddling) reminding him that he didn’t need to hide with the merc. Since then, he’s been rewarded with a confident, comfortable Wolvie who traipses around their apartment half-naked at all hours and lets Wade suck him off as often as he wants (which is, incidentally, all the goddamn time). 

Stripping Logan’s shirt off now, Wade swallows down the cold fear of the resurgent image of his bleeding guts strewn over his waistband in that warehouse. He runs shaky fingertips across Logan’s abdomen, completely healed and as perfectly unblemished as ever once more. 

“That was a fucked up thing to do, Logan.” 

Logan doesn’t argue, pushing into Wade’s hands as he pops his fly. 

“Where’s your cuffs?” 

Here, Logan does argue, “I don’t want the cuffs.” It’s not their safeword, though, so Wade barrels through his protest. 

“I wasn’t asking permission, I’ll just find them myself.” He shoves at Logan’s hips, pushing him back toward their bed to rifle through their drawers and closet. Catching Logan finally stripping the rest of the way out of the corner of his eye and fighting a pleased smirk. Even pissed as he is right now, it’s always appealing to watch Logan actually listen — especially after pitching his hissy fits of being a complete brat. 

The cuffs are custom made, Wade’s own design. They encase Logan’s wrists almost like a gauntlet without fingers, with a curved metal rectangle that juts out over his palm and forces his hands at a 90 degree angle, preventing him from unsheathing his claws unless he wants the metal to come through the middle of his hand. A chain connects the two cuffs so Logan can lie on his back with his hands pinned on either side of his hips, or Wade can shorten it when his hands are in front of him, or loop them above Logan’s head on the bed post. 

They like having options. 

It had taken long, long conversations before Wade was comfortable using them; they were Logan’s idea, wanting to give up complete control sometimes and that meant claws and all to him. There wasn’t a part of himself that he didn’t trust Wade with explicitly. 

He still used them sparingly, wanting to keep them special, but with much more confidence as time went on. Today he wrangles Logan into them expertly, guiding his hands into them with ease. Logan grumbles and growls and huffs, snapping at Wade’s face with his fangs bared but otherwise makes absolutely no move to resist, a fact Wade eagerly calls him out on. 

“This is pathetic, peanut. You know you’ve earned this, can’t even fight it properly.” He leans Logan back, propping him up against their innumerable pillows that Logan’s carefully selected for their bed. The chain is delicate enough to lie on without hurting, adding to the heightened tension as Logan could choose to break it without even struggling; he never does, though, too much of a good boy who knows his place. Enjoys being put there and reminded of it consistently. 

Logan’s a vision, spread out like a four course meal, hands pinned by his sides for Wade to do anything he pleases to him without interference. He luxuriates in the attention Wade gives him, parting his thighs to reveal where he’s already wet and hard and aching for his mate. Swollen and pink and so pretty. 

He grins sharply, catching the way Wade’s eyes blow black, narrowed in on Logan’s slick hole and perfect cock, practically begging for Wade’s mouth and his fingers. 

Wade crawls over him, bracing on one arm by Logan’s hip he cups his other hand, bringing it down in a stinging slap across Logan’s groin. He yelps, voice pitched higher in shock, the sharp grin wiped completely off his face. Wade knows he didn’t actually hurt him for more than a few seconds, but the echo of the slap resonated, more sound than actual impact. And if anything, it made Logan even wetter, leaking steadily and humping the air. 

Satisfied that Logan’s less smug, Wade shifts again, backing up to strip his own clothes off, muttering under his breath but counting on the fact that Logan hears him, “sometimes, I don’t know why I even bother.” He watches the comment land, striking Logan between his ribs as a hurt, wounded sound punches from his mouth. “Do you think you’re worth it, sweetheart? Huh?” 

No. He doesn’t. And he knows Wade knows that, but he struggles to answer anyway, mouth opening and closing while he squirms uncomfortably. 

Wade grabs the lube from the nightstand, slicking his fingers he traces over Logan’s cock and through his folds a moment before dipping two inside, scissoring them apart to stretch him out. It’s not the point for this to hurt, and Logan’s healing keeps him tighter than Wade’s comfortable with just diving right into. 

Dissolving into whimpering moans, Logan has no hope of gathering his thoughts enough to answer Wade, but he doesn’t have to, not when Wade leans down again to mouth over his jaw. Achingly sweet kisses pressed down to his throat and a sharp nip right over his pulse point. 

“I think — no, I know you’re worth it,” he whispers there, replacing his fingers with his cock without warning, sinking into Logan’s wet heat in one smooth motion. “Even when you hurt me, you’re worth it.” He sets a punishing pace, bedsprings creaking and headboard banging the wall. 

He fills Logan up perfectly, angling just right to hit that soft spot inside him and grind his groin against his swollen cock on every thrust, driving him crazy with pleasure. Wade moans appreciatively right in Logan’s ear, licking over the shell of it and nibbling on his lobe. 

Logan doesn’t just take it; he pushes his own hips up into every thrust as much as he can, pulsing around Wade’s cock to egg him on with a sinful, goading smirk on his face. And Wade just can’t have that. This is supposed to be punishment after all. He drops his weight down harder on the next few thrusts, pinning Logan in place with his bulk, drawing a shaky whine from his lips. His breath starts to hitch the way it always does when he’s close to coming. 

When they’re both just barely on the edge, Wade pulls out of him, settling on his knees in between Logan’s spread thighs, stripping his hand over his leaking cock and spilling across Logan’s stomach the next second — still too taught and hungry-looking for Wade’s liking, proof that there’s more than one area of care that Logan still needs his help with. He paints his flexing abs with his come, moaning and groaning through his release over the sound of Logan’s bitching. 

“You— you fucking bastard , that was mine , that’s supposed to—,” Logan snaps and snarls, writhing against his bonds futilely. He arches closer to where Wade pumps his cock still, trying to angle just right and entice him back inside his aching hole. “ Wade .” He absolutely hates when Wade comes anywhere but inside him without warning. 

Wade pointedly ignores him, thumbing the last of his come off the tip of his dick and bringing it up to his mouth, not that he necessarily likes the taste of himself, but he knows Logan does . Sure enough, Logan’s eyes widen, tracking the movement and he growls at him, licking his lips like he needs the taste of Wade desperately. 

“That’s not fucking fair,” Logan pants, chest heaving and veins in his arms jumping as he pulls on his restraints. He’s flushed from the tip of his ears down his stomach all the way to his twitching cock, an angry red peeking through damp curls. 

Flippantly indifferent, Wade scoffs, “Don’t care, peanut. And besides, you haven’t exactly earned it tonight, have you?” He shuffles back farther, assessing the state he’s put Logan in. Slick arousal and lube coats his inner thighs, pooling a damp spot on the bed that’s dripped from his hole as Wade’s come dries tackily, matting into his happy trail and chest hair. If Logan was less stupid with rage he might appreciate being marked like that, but as it stands, he’s too upset over not getting his way to think clearly. 

“Fuck you,” he spits. “Fuck you and your stupid dick. I’d get more pleasure from fucking a table leg, with the shitty way you use it, anyway.” His hips twitch needily, hole clenching around nothing, desperately empty and aching. 

Oh . So that’s how Logan wants tonight to go. 

Wade had planned on simply denying him for a good long while, letting him sit and consider what he’d done before getting him off over and over again in quick succession, hoping the overstimulation would eventually knock him the fuck out and give Wade some peace and quiet with a tamed down Wolverine for the night. He’d keep him in bed where he could keep tabs on him, switch out his gauntlet style cuffs for something simpler to bind him by one arm to the bedpost just in case. Logan always cried after Wade treated him like that, faced with the truth of the fact that someone cared about him enough to spend time correcting him. Babbling apologies and clinging to Wade even in his sleep afterward. 

But when he shoots off like this, needlessly cruel and sharp, he’s after two things, usually: pain and Wade’s dick in his mouth. It’s what happened in the Odyssey and it’s what’s about to happen to him now if he plays his cards right. He knows Wade knows, they’ve done this dance enough times since the Void. He got Wade to pin him down and fuck his throat in that car after his little obnoxious tirade that they both knew was more directed at himself than actually at Wade. There’s just a specific mood Logan gets in that requires a little rougher treatment. Something Wade’s all too willing to oblige him right now. 

“You know, I got a bad rep for running my mouth, but you’ve got the same damn problem, don’t you, Lo?” Wade asks, voice low and dangerous, cutting through Logan’s consistent growling and snarling effectively as a hot knife through butter. “You just don’t know when to shut the fuck up, huh? You get going and can’t quit while you’re head.” 

Logan goes stock still, baring his teeth but otherwise unmoving, watching Wade intently. His chin is ducked, protecting his throat despite the fact that his stomach remains vulnerable and still carrying the evidence of Wade’s previous ruining of him. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re yammering on about, and I don’t fucking care.” 

Wade tuts disapprovingly, “you know exactly what I’m talking about, Logan, don’t play dumb with me.” He grabs handfuls of Logan’s thighs and tugs so he’s pulled a little farther down the bed, just his shoulders and head propped up on the pillows for what he’s about to do next to him. Wade shuffles forward, kneeling over Logan’s chest as his cock fills out again, returning to full hardness just in time to trace Logan’s lips with the tip of it teasingly. 

When Logan opens his mouth to protest, Wade thrusts forward without warning, jabbing his cock into his throat harshly. Logan gags and chokes, spluttering and dripping drool from his mouth, trying to pull off, but Wade threads his fingers through his hair and keeps him there until he calms down. Knowing he can take it. He adjusts to the intrusion quickly, throat working over Wade’s length as he evens his breathing and fights to keep control over himself. It helps that Wade’s hand starts petting him, stroking his hair and scratching his scalp the way he likes, making his eyelashes flutter and his jaw relax and drop the last few centimeters needed to be comfortable. 

“Good boy,” Wade praises, “you know what to do now, don’t you?” He starts to thrust into Logan’s mouth, pulling out halfway before fucking back into his throat, letting the drag of Logan’s tongue and the sharp bite of his fangs catching drive him toward the edge. After a while, Logan’s growling stops, chest going quiet as he just takes what Wade gives him. His eyes, which had been glaring heatedly up at Wade for some time now, start to go hazy and half-lidded; Wade watches him lose focus and break the contact, submitting completely. 

He sets a steady pace, fucking the thoughts from Logan’s head entirely until they’re replaced with the taste and feel of Wade in his throat, stinging tears pricking Logan’s eyes and escaping down his cheeks. 

“ Fuck , you’re pretty when you cry for me, sweetheart,” Wade pants as Logan gags, throat tightening. “Got a question for you.” 

He pulls out, letting Logan catch his breath before threading his fingers through his hair and pulling to center his attention on Wade’s face. “What are you going to do the next time you’re outnumbered like today?”

Crying out at the sting on his scalp, Logan hesitates to answer, recalibrating. 

“Come on, peanut, you’re a smart wolvie. What are you going to do?” Wade can tell immediately the moment Logan finds the right answer, eyes going bright, he licks his lips. 

“G-gonna call for backup. Gonna listen to you and then call for backup if m’overwhelmed.” 

“That’s fucking right, Logan. That’s exactly what you’re gonna do, good boy ,” Wade grabs his face, squeezing his cheeks to purse his lips, “stick your tongue out,” he commands, smirking when Logan obeys immediately, looking dumb and needy. Panting with exertion to catch his breath. He always gets like this after riling Wade up enough to fuck him the way he needs. 

Wade spits onto his tongue, still gripping his chin tightly, he pushes his hips forward, dragging his cock through the wet velvety heat, “that’s it, baby. Feels so good.” Logan whines at the praise, moaning as Wade picks up speed, bullying his way back into Logan’s mouth with his full length. He sucks at Wade’s cock like he was made for it, tonguing along the underside and swallowing around the sensitive head, working Wade to the edge quickly. 

“Swallow for me, Lo,” Wade groans, petting his hair again and pumping his hips as he comes down Logan’s throat. 

Logan whimpers, kissing and licking over Wade’s softening cock when he pulls back, suckling on the tip to lap up the last drop of come like he can’t get enough of it. All the tension’s drained from him, gone soft and eager to please the way he always does when Wade uses him like this. 

He teases him, knowing he’s broken Logan down enough tonight that he can get away with it. Cupping Logan’s face, he coos at the way he nuzzles into Wade’s palm. “Who’s my good boy?” 

Logan starts to purr for the first time that night, licking over Wade’s hand affectionately, “m’your good boy.” Soft and sweet and painfully honest. 

“Yeah, you are, baby. Just gotta get you there, don’t we?” He thumbs across Logan’s bottom lip, slick with spit. “Let’s take care of you now. Do you want to come?” 

Thinking it over, Logan shakes his head; getting off isn’t always the goal when they fuck like this sometimes and he’s wore out and satisfied enough as it is. Worked through his punishment and learned his lesson, earning Wade’s approval again. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Wade whispers, scratching through his beard and pressing a kiss to the side of his face, “I’ll be right back.” He disappears into their bathroom, wetting a towel to clean Logan up. 

Boneless and unmoving from where Wade left him, Logan closes his eyes as his partner wipes him down, arms still bound behind him but he knows that’s coming next, waits patiently while Wade works the cloth over his stomach and chest. He swipes a clean corner between Logan’s legs, carefully drying his folds and his cock off, mindful of how sensitive he is when he’s aroused. Wade can’t help himself, not when Logan’s all pink and pretty and leaking still; broadcasting his movements to give Logan the chance to tell him no, he leans down to press a searing kiss over the hood of Logan’s cock. Licking up the small length and then down to his hole to lap up the precome there. He cleans up the slick quickly as Logan starts to whine, it feels good and he knows it’s something Wade’s damn near compelled to do. Always drawn to taking care of him in the most intimate ways. 

Wade doesn’t linger, respecting Logan’s choice to not come, parting from between his legs with one last soft kiss. No one’s ever been so comfortable with Logan like this, attentive and adoring of his situation. 

It’s like he was never angry in the first place, with the way Wade looks so goddamn softly at him right now, reaching to help Logan sit up to undo the cuffs around his wrists and hands. Releasing his hands from their awkward bent position. 

“There you go, baby, how’s that?” He settles down on his side of the bed, drawing Logan down with him, clutching his forearms gently between their chests. Keeping up with his aftercare, Wade starts to knead and massage his wrists and hands, working over the channels that hold his claws and the tension in his palms. Pressing intermittent kisses to the faint scars between his knuckles as he works. 

Logan goes limp, accepting his care without hesitation, snuggling closer to rest his head on Wade’s shoulder, letting him nose across his hairline while he closes his eyes in contentment. 

“I hate it when you hurt yourself like that,” Wade whispers into his hair. “It’s fucking terrifying seeing you in that state, especially when I know you’ve done it on purpose.” 

A soft whine of sympathy escapes Logan’s parted lips, drifting across Wade’s scarred collarbone, “I’m sorry ,” his voice cracks through his apology. 

Dropping his wrists, Wade shifts, wrapping his arms around his Wolvie’s shoulders, squeezing comfortingly for both of their sakes. “I know you are, sweetheart.” 

He knows Logan will inevitably end up hurting himself again, but it’s enough tonight that he’s here in Wade’s arms, letting Wade remind him that someone cares about him, wants to see him whole and safe and loved — even though they haven’t said that, yet with words. 

“C’n sleep?” Logan slurs, already halfway there, breath puffing across Wade’s throat and long lashes fluttering. 

Fingers drifting through his curls, Wade chuckles, lulls him the rest of the way down, “yeah, you can sleep, Lo. I’ll wake you up in a bit to get some food, okay?” But he knows Logan won’t answer, sound asleep between one breath and the next, sprawled more across Wade than the actual bed, just the way they both like, on top of the covers and everything because Logan’s furry ass runs hot. 

He’ll watch over him while he naps, knowing nothing could separate the two of them after everything. No matter the setback or the backslide, Wade will hold him through it all until Logan’s back to himself again.

Notes:

thank you for reading !! Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments :)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 5 of Trans Logan