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.
Continued from Slippery when wet; Not sponsored by Crocs (but would like to be - get in touch) for @runfastgivesass
“Well, I was hoping you’d be glad I showered. Sweaty and sticky hasn’t been attractive since the age of Gladiators, and let’s face it. I’m not Spartacus.” Wade arched an eyebrow as he pressed his head to Pietro’s - holding him in his arms. A playful smile tugged at his lips. He should have been embarassed as fuck given that Pietro just pointed out that he knew what had happened. I wasn’t that loud? Yet somehow, he found it a massive turn on intriguing. Technically he could have joined me. Let’s focus.
“Was that a moan?” Wade mused, that playful smile transforming into a wolfish grin. He moved his hands up Pietro’s back - pulled away and searched into his eyes. “Wow,” he mouthed. “It’s incredible how you can look like you’ve survived a drowning attempt and still be hot as hell.” Wade ran a hand through Pietro’s hair, pushing the wet locks out of his face. It looked incredibly and unusually dark, all matted together by the rainwater. His skin pale as always, not made better by him being cold. Though that blush is fucking adorable. Wade licked his teeth and inhaled in a chuckle. He knew about Pietro’s heat thing, but completely forgot upon seeing him. He looked like he needed being taken care of. He still does.
“You know,” he began huskily and leaned closer, his lips brushing against Pietro’s ear as he spoke. “You’re never gonna get warm again in those soaked clothes. So we’ve gotta get out of those. I’ll lend you my bathrobe or some dry ones, if you’ll like. And here’s three options for you. You can have a hot shower. You can let me warm you back up - or I can make you something warm to drink.” his voice was deep and seductive. Let’s be honest - at this point I was turning myself on. "Some of them can be combined.” Wade bit his lip.
As he drew away to gaze upon him once more his hands slid slowly but steadily down Pitro’s back, only stopping once he reached his hips. They hadn’t really done a great deal, there had been flirting but that was it, and he hoped he hadn’t gone too far.
Wade glanced at that. He wasn’t even gonna crack a joke about how it spelled out the wrong way in his screen shot; because it had come in the right way around.
[text: Maxi] Are you even alright?
[text: Maxi] Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to get this.
[text: Maxi] And I love you too.
[text: Maxi] But I worry.
[text: Maxi] I dare you to get over here and say those words in person.
[text: Maxi] *winks*
[text: Maxi] *hearteyes*
[text: Maxi] And if you’re about to embarge on a ducking mission involving bullets and Hawkeye. Please ducking don’t.
[text: Maxi] ALSO STAY AWAY FROM HAWKEYE.
[text: Maxi] He’s a ducking t
[text: Maxi] I sent too quickly. I can’t believe my autocorrect sometimes.
[text: Maxi] Has it said “ducking” all this time? Oh my -
[text: Maxi] Hey, you wanna come over and duck?
[text: Maxi] I might die laughing.
[text: Maxi] DON’T GO ON MISSIONS! COME HERE! If not to duck, then to tell me you love me in person.
[text: Maxi] That would be an order if I believed in them.
[text: Maxi] I *do* love you.
[text: Maxi] I’ve decided to pout until you show up.
Continued from Wade’s explorational hell for @runfastgivesass
It surprised him that Pietro wanted to look at him, let alone touch him. But I’ll take it. As Pietro pressed his face to his chest, Wade wrapped an arm around him, the hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly - the other one went into his hair, gently massaging his scalp.
Wade had no idea what had gone wrong, but he could definitely tell that something had.
“Woah, hey - no. Why are you apologising? It’s not your fault.” Wade spoke against Piero’s hair and kissed the top of his head. “How about you tell me what happened?” he was worried, his heart was racing, certainly that did little to calm his boyfriend down. Wade groaned at himself and tried to get control of that.
The last few moments replayed on a loop in his mind as he tried to figure out where he went wrong. Problem is - I can’t. Shit.
"Maxi, I really need you to tell me how I fucked up,” Wade began softly. It was the only way to keep this from happening ever again.
You know what you look absolutely gorgeous in, Wade? My arms.
Wade lifted his eyebrows and mouthed a “wow” before his face broke into a giant smile. That was actually a good one.
“How about you do something about that, then?” he said seductively and bit his lip as he slowly walked up to his boyfriend. He tugged at his shirt and kissed him. “You’re getting better at these, and even if you don’t need pick up lines to catch me, I appreciate it.” Wade kissed him again, smiling against his lips. “If I don’t get to be in your arms now, I’m gonna be so disappointed.”
Wade had the place to himself. Blind Al was at the bingo or whatever it is old people do. Bingo is fun though. He’d just gotten out of the shower and went to get himself something to eat, when his phone went off. I hope that’s Pietro and not more work. I just got the suit fixed back up.
[Text: Did you get my little gift?]
Gift? What – Wade glanced around and saw nothing. It wasn’t a number he knew either.
[Wade: Who’s this?]
[Text: You didn’t get it then.]
[Wade: What was I supposed to get?]
[Text: Check your door.]
Outside sat a white box with black ribbons. Something red not cranberry sauce had seeped through the cardboard and coloured the bottom. He didn’t pick it up, yet. The entire thing gave him a bad feeling. After having checked that there was no one outside, he opened the lid. Slowly. I was even holding my breath. Wade swallowed hard and tensed up once he saw what was inside; a heart. He instantly knew who sent the message. Fury welled up inside him, along with some memories he’d pushed away. He placed the lid back on, picked up the box and dumped it in one of the trash cans.
[Wade: Don’t be a coward, Francis. If you want me, come get me.]
[Ajax: No, mate. It’s more fun like this.]
[Wade: Like what?]
[Ajax: Sending you your bf in pieces.]
[Ajax: I thought you learned not to get attached. Oh well. I’m not complaining. A shame the silvery guy doesn’t heal up like you. He seemed like a lot of fun.]
His blood froze, and he was pretty sure his heart was close to exploding. Shit, shit, shit, shit -
Wade called Pietro. Come on, come on, come on… And it kept calling. Answer. Oh god, just answer your fucking phone. If he was able to think rationally, he would have called for some evidence, but Ajax had hit him where it actually hurt. And when was I ever rational?
Pietro never had been great at answering or returning his calls. That’s sugar coating it. He never did. But that was before. True. They were a thing now. What the hell have I dragged him into?
Wade gave up on calling – and sent a bunch of texts instead.
[Wade: Where are you?!]
[Wade: Why aren’t you answering your phone?]
[Wade: Call me!]
[Wade: I need to know that you’re okay.]
[Wade: Come on!]
[Wade: Maxi? PLEASE.]
This wasn’t good. It was worse than bad. Wade didn’t even know where Pietro lived.
Shit.
Summary: The past downright sucks when it catches up.
Pairing: Silverpool (Wade Wilson x Pietro Maximoff)
Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of torture, mentions of abuse, narrowminded shithead army fuck, injuries, this might turn into a RP thing which does not ever have to be matched in length.
Word Count: 1648
Wade was heading home – he’d spent the evening at Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children. It had (eventually) been a fun night, though it took him some time to get back into his game, mainly because he missed Pietro. He’d shot some pool, thrown knives (instead of darts) and won, arm wrestled some bikers, shared some of his latest adventures and mishaps – and more importantly, caught up with Weasel. As he said bye to the guys at the door everyone seemed to be in good spirits, telling him not to forget them, come back soon, bring the Silvery guy. It made him smile; how easy it was to jump back into his old lifestyle.
Wade cut through a back alley. It was faster, besides, he wasn’t afraid that anyone would jump him. I’m friggin Deadpool after all. I can hold my own. It was dark, he could hardly see the contours of the trash bins and flattened cardboard boxes that told tales of hobos and junkies. They’d be off the street at night, though. Dark shadows moved between them. Rats or cats most likely. The street lights were like small glowing dots far up ahead – it gave him the whole “light at the end of your tunnel” feeling – though he was pretty sure there was no light at the end of his. Hell, I won’t even get to do the tunnel. I can’t die. He huffed to himself.
Somewhere someone hummed an all too familiar tune. At first he thought it came from one of the apartments above him. It floated in and out of the noises of the city, but grew more solid as he walked forward. It’s tones were in minor, sad but oddly comforting. How they moved up and down felt like being rocked back and forth, safe in someone’s embrace. Maybe because that’s what he tied to them. The melody drew him to a place he thought he’d left behind ages ago. Wade froze and listened. The hum broke into song with actual words – and it became painfully evident that it wasn’t performed by the one he expected to hear it from. Even he noticed that it was accented; not native Ukrainian. The tiny hope he had that Pietro had sought him out was ripped away from him.
“That does not belong to you,” Wade spoke to the street lights up ahead, as he glanced around. He couldn’t actually see anyone… Could he?
“No? I don’t think it’s yours either.” the voice was raspy, as if they’ve had too much whiskey, which wasn’t too far from the truth. He instantly recognised the owner of it.
“You’re still alive, eh? I thought you drowned yourself in a barrel of Jack.” Wade muttered, still trying to figure out where he was hidden. “Why don’t you come out and play. Did you bring your tasers this time? I love that electric tingle.” Wade went for his gun and realised far too late that he wasn’t carrying. Shit. Well, the throwing knives would have to do. Wade reached under his jacket – finding that most of them had been left in the target back at the bar. Fuck. That’s unfortunate. Fists it is, then.
Ladies and gents. I give you Lieutenant Trevor Blake. A tall guy. Buzz cut. Grey eyes – to match his soul. Broad shoulders and slim waist; used to lift a lot. Intimidating. The kind of man you’re silent around. That instils fear and/or respect in people. Old Trev was a friend of my father’s. They served together. Were practically bros. When I enlisted - he was the guy to make sure I got kicked down. Not that I didn’t deserve it, but that fucker seemed to enjoy taking the crap out of me as much as my father had. Maybe he held me responsible for his death… Hell do I care. Shortly after I left the military to start my mercenary business, he got kicked out too. Unruly conduct with the soldiers, they said. Drunk at the job, too. Dealing with shit from the pasts. Screams of victims, gunshot echoes. He got what he deserved. If he wasn’t such a miserable fuck a veteran, I would have taken him out myself. For free. I thought he died. How wrong was I? After I signed up for Weapons-X he turned up like the fucking pest he is. Stryker must have pulled him clean out of AA, given him the green suit and patched the stars back on him. They probably share the same fascist mind set. I don’t want to talk to him long enough to find out. Our very last encounter had him trying to get me to pass out and giving me verbal hell at the same time – and I was mouthing off. It turned ugly. Let’s say he hit a nerve, I broke free from my restraints. Beat him raw and bloody. Got knocked out of course. Punished. I never saw him again. My guess is his pride took a hit for the worse… Or maybe I actually got him hospitalised. At least I made sure no one else would suffer him.
Trevor chuckled darkly as he appeared from the darkness, nothing more than a silhouette in front of him. A fucking ghost from his past. He hummed some of the tune to taunt him more before he spoke;
“It was a cute song you homos shared back there.”
Wade’s jaw clenched. “Yeah? Are you jealous Trev? Too bad I never was into the old abusive shits huh?”
“And I never was into the scarred freaks. How you holdin’ up, boy?” The last word was condescending. It took all of Wade’s effort not to cringe, not to remember all those times he’d said it like that – with the physical upper hand.
“Far better than you, lieutenant mc-drunk face.” Wade pulled out one of his knives. The streetlights betrayed him – and it glittered in the darkness.
“I see your insults haven’t gotten any better.” Trevor pressed. “Tell me – what are you doing with that mutant, huh? If your father knew…”
“How was it you worded it? Homo? Yeah. I’m totally gay for that guy.” Which wasn’t a lie. His chest swelled with love whenever he talked of Pietro, and he knew it stung the old man. “And my father is dead.” He added coldly, and flipped the knife before he sent it flying. Trevor was experienced, and despite his age he hadn’t slowed – so he was able to deflect it. Wade felt the knife belt. He had one more. Be careful now.
“Thank god. To think of how he’d feel, knowing what you’ve become.” Trevor spat.
“I don’t give a rats ass about either one of you. But hey, since you care so much about him – how about you join him?” Wade tried not to let the anger he felt colour his voice.
“You’re gonna take me out, boy?” he laughed.
Wade’s blood boiled. He drew a deep breath, to keep focus.
Several things happened at once, once he let go of that knife.
He felt a jabbing pain to his neck. He heard Trevor grunt. Someone kicked him behind the knee and clawed at his shoulders. The next thing he knew, he was facing the smog of the city, groaning. His head was spinning. He tried to feel his neck, but someone stepped on his hand. He saw two, no… four? Eight? Figures standing over him. Hallucinating. They’ve drugged me.
“That’s clever of you, but fucking weak. You know I’d take you out, old man.” Wade slurred, trying not to let whatever they have injected him with pull him under. “What do you want?” He actually feared that they’d lock him back up, torture him again - - - and keep him from Pietro. Wade attempted to trash, but it felt like he was under water. He just couldn’t move properly.
Trevor moved into view. He pulled the knife out from his side, groaning as he did so.
“Amateur throw, boy. Missed my vitals.” Trevor turned the knife and jammed it into Wade’s heart with massive force, drawing an awful scream from his lips. “That’s what you want to aim for. Try to get some practise in, eh?” Trevor patted halfway slapped his cheek with bloody fingers, Wade desperately tried to turn his head away – but couldn’t. Trevor searched Wade’s pockets – found what he was looking for and sniffed as he straightened up, looming over him.
“That injection we gave you? It slows your healing for a while. Won’t stop it – but it’ll make you feel like hell for a little longer.” Trevor leered, before he whispered the last four words. “Ajax sends his regards,”
Wade’s eyes widened. Fuck no – not those two together. He wanted to call Ajax out, say that he was a fucking chicken for not coming after him himself – but he never got the chance to. He saw the underside of Trevor’s boot, who stepped on his face, knocking him clean out.
Trevor tossed Wade’s cellphone over to one of his guys – getting him to unlock it. He went through his messages, not surprised to find Pietro on top of his texts. He took a photo of Wade, knocked out, with the broken jaw and nose – bleeding from the face, syringe standing out of his neck and oh – the knife in his heart, wrote “If you want him, come get him.” hit send and threw the phone on top of Wade.
“Let’s move out. The mutant freak might be here in no time.” Trevor instructed his guys – and they disappeared back into the shadows. They’d have time to leave because Trevor hadn’t revealed their location. And Wade? He was left bleeding, injured, drugged and alone – except forthe rats and cats that still lurked in the shadows. Trevor smirked as he saw the little figures moving up to the body.
