Continued from Wade’s traumatic childhood that ruined him for @runfastgivesass
“Francis?” Wade questioned, almost as if he didn’t remember who Francis was. He did though, really fucking well. You don’t forget a fucktard like that. No, not Francis. Francis didn’t know about my dad. Wade shook his head and took another wary step backwards. “Don’t,” he huffed. Eyeing Pietro’s hands. “Don’t come closer.” Wade was trembling, too focused on Pietro not touching him to even consider his escape routes. His brain short circuited. Pietro stroked his arm. Wade gasped and twisted sideways, contemplating pushing the guy away. He was bigger - but right now he couldn’t even remember that. He felt so small. Like he reverted to his kid size. His shoulder slammed against the wall and Wade pressed up against it. There were no more room to move... So he slid down, and he covered his head. That was always the best thing to do right? “Please don’t.” he begged and squeezed his eyes shut - hoping it all would go away.
















