tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), fluff, humor, established relationship, light daddy kink, she/her pronouns for reader, anal sex (m. recieving), mentions of p i v, dirty talk, pet names, they're all switches but logan is subby in this, dom!reader, dom!wade, sub-space, it's all very soft and cute and sweet
Some bullshit is always spewing from Wade's mouth, whether he's buried in your cunt or balls deep in Logan. You're sprawled on one side of the bed, Logan's hand wrapped tight around one of yours. Your other plays at your clit as Wade pounds into him from behind. A scarred hand wraps around Logan's cock, tip angry and leaking. The words that come out of his mouth really shouldn't surprise you.
"Come on, peanut, wanna come for daddy?"
Your fingers stop swirling your swollen nub as you let Wade's words soak in. The thought of the word daddy falling from Logan's lips shouldn't have your cunt clenching like it does. But, then again, you've always been a bit depraved.
Logan's response comes valiantly as Wade pistons into him, balls slapping lewdly with every meeting of Wade's hips.
"Anyone—" Thrust. "Ever tell ya—" Thrust. "You're shit at dirty talk—" Thrust. "Red?" Logan's teeth are clenched, voice harsh.
"Yeah, Wade," you muse. "Don't be ridiculous."
You pause for a beat; a mischievous grin as you meat Wade's gaze. Your fingers begin to dip between your folds, gathering your slick before moving back to your aching clit. "We both know I'm his daddy."
Logan lets out a rough groan, at that, despite himself. And the confirmation sends lightning bolts shooting down your spine.
The hand holding Logan's squeezes a little tighter, as you coax him on. Your eyes meet his, gaze dripping with desire. Your voice a low whisper.
"Come on, Lo. Come for daddy."
Logan's breaths come in pants, now. "Yeah— fuck, I will," he babbles between breaths. "Gonna come for you, baby."
Wade slows his thrusts then, perfectly in-tune with your little game, though his own daddy-action may have been thwarted.
"Ah-ah, baby girl," the merc sing-songs. "That's not her name."
Logan growls, the sound a feral thing. He turns his head to the man behind him. "Fuck you, mouth."
Then, he turns back to face you. His cheeks are flushed crimson, eyes closed, as he addresses you.
"Gonna come for you— Daddy."
The three of you keep at it for hours that night, you and Wade taking care of Logan until he's floating in that hazy space you know so well. He always seems to be the one bringing you and Wade there. He deserves to feel it too, after all he's done for you. As hungry for control as he can be, Logan has never had somebody take care of him like this. You're just glad you can be the one to do it.
Finally, when it's closer to morning than it is to night, you're all fucked out and boneless, cuddling in a heap on your shared California king. Your hands tangle in Logan's hair, damp with sweat, as Wade traces little patterns on the bare skin of your thigh while he spoons you. Then, because of course he does, Wade breaks the silence. He heaves a dramatic sigh.
"I cant believe she's your daddy." He pouts, petulant. "Will these perverts ever let me have anything?!"
You're not sure what he's talking about, but you're too fucked out to care. You twist around to press a chaste kiss to the mottled skin of Wade's head. "It's okay, princess. You can be my daddy."
a/n: this one is short and sweet, but i thought it was fun! if you enjoyed it, i'd love to hear what you thought! reblogs are always appreciated 🤍
taglist: @squishyfrui @misscrissfemmefatale | and some beloveds (no pressure just thought you might enjoy this hehe) @eupheme @sceletaflores @avocado-writing
request to be added/removed from taglist in the replies
This is kind of a continuation of this post, but you don't have to read it. I thought my imagine was a stupid kind of silly, so I'm glad other people liked it! I'm not sure if I'm writing for Deadpool yet, but here was my attempt.
Deadpool x Reader (platonic or romantic)
You heard the front door swing open with Wade strutting into the apartment. Peggy hopped off your lap and excitedly greeted her papa.
Wade squealed and bent down to shower her with affection. You smiled at them and rose off the couch. Wade grinned at you and threw his face mask on the nearby table. His eyes lit up as you approach him.
“There’s my favorite dog-sitter!” exclaimed Wade.
You quirked your brow at him. “I’m your only underpaid dog-sitter.”
He shrugged and swung the grocery bag in his gloved hand. You eyed the bag curiously but said nothing. Peggy happily tapped her paws against the hardwood.
“I have a gift for you,” singsonged Wade. He gestured with the bag.
You squinted your eyes at him suspiciously. You crossed your arms. He made a noise of protest.
“It isn’t a bag of cocaine! Don’t get your panties in a twist,” grumbled Wade.
You sighed. Peggy snorted under you as she wagged her tail.
He pushed the grocery bag to your chest. “Just open the damn thing!” insisted Wade.
You curled your fingers around the thin plastic and reached your hand in it. You pulled out a black graphic t-shirt which read ‘proud dog parent’ in a white font. The receipt fluttered off the shirt, which Wade promptly ripped off and threw over his shoulder. Peggy trotted towards the crumpled receipt and sniffed it curiously.
Your face broke into a big smile. Your eyes flickered to the shirt and to Wade.
“Thanks for the gift, Wade. This is cute,” you said.
Wade bounced on his feet and pressed his hands against his cheeks. “I’m so glad you like it, babe! You’re officially part of the family.”
You continued to smile at him and your eyes softened. Wade gestured his hand at the shirt.
“Go change into the shirt.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and headed towards the bathroom. “Or you could undress out here!” shouted Wade.
You didn’t turn back as you flipped him off. “I think the only person you wanna see naked is Vanessa or Logan,” you called back.
Wade’s laughter was muffled as you shut the bathroom door behind you. You changed your shirt and smoothed down the ruffles. You gazed at your reflection through the smudged mirror.
You had to admit; the shirt was nice, as cheesy as it was.
You stepped out of the bathroom with Wade waiting for you. You smoothed the shirt down.
Wade clapped his hand excitedly. “Oh, you’re cooking in that shirt!”
You smiled as you shook your head at him. You checked the time on your phone. “Alright, I gotta go. I have other responsibility besides looking after Dogpool,” you teased.
Wade scoffed in mock offense. You gathered your belongings and made your way out of the apartment. You turned around before you left.
Wade held Peggy in his arms with her derpy tongue sticking out if her mouth. He used her small arm to wave you goodbye.
“Say bye-bye to your other dog parent! They’re the only one who receives child support from your spoiled ass,” hummed Wade.
You waved in return at Wade and Peggy. You glanced down at your shirt. As ridiculous as it was to be Deadpool’s dog-sitter, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
He tries not to believe it. Is there even a scenario where you would love him back?
He tries his best to push these feelings away. But he just can't help it, i mean why you gotta be so beautiful and kind to him and your voice, gosh- but the more he tries getting his mind off you the more it hurts. Especially if he goes to drink at a bar and gets so drunk he ends up with someone next to him in the morning.
So instead he lets his obsession grew.
Oh you're shopping? He just happens to be there too! Don't question it, he'll start yapping and drags you with himself.
He invites you over more than usual. You wanna watch a movie? Play games? If he wins he gets a kiss- whoa what,who said that?
He'll wanna have sleepovers. Throw pillow fights and no he won't sleep on the floor, make some space for him. Incase you don't tell him to sleep on the couch he'll totally not creepily stare at you as you sleep. Sure he'll fall asleep,,eventually.
He gives you tiny hints that he loves you. But of course you won't really catch them, after all he acts freaky with everyone.
And by flirting i mean, putting a hand around your shoulder. Telling you that you are gorgeous and calling you nicknames. Showing you a heart with his hands and so much more.
If you let him he would love to hug you every now and then. Tho his hugs get longer and longer the more you let him closer to you.
Speaking of which, he'll let you see his face and know more about his past only after a longer time.
But even then, when he took off his mask and expected a disgusted look or a mean comment, you just smiled at him and reassured that he is beautiful inside and out. Can you be any more charming? He just fall head over heals all over again.
You laugh at his jokes and think hes cool? He is wordless.
He will try to kiss you through his mask and will do it if you don't push him away. "Smooch me!"
Sometimes he stares at you with out noticing.
His room is full of stuff that you gifted to him and photos of you (where he got it? Oh don't worry about it..)
And if you happen to be a hero/etc, he will have a plush and other merch of you around.
He'll even give you a mini version of himself. To keep you safe he says.
He loves to be around you and is overly affectionate.
He squishez his eyes into a smile upon seeing you. He'll wave at you and everything.
He'll draw you silly pictures (mostly the two of you holding hands and being lovey-dovey)
He also leaves you flowers.
If you say nice things to him it'll blow his mind. By nice i mean stuff like "You are cute!" Or "You're the best!". Yeah you really think so? His heart feels like its beating stronger.
He speaks before thinking rather often. He lets his stranger thoughts out. Such thoughts like "You're so hot". He stares wide eyed at you after. Then comes the awkward laugh, just laugh with him please.
Anyways get used to it cuz he'll make your life a living hell, or maybe heaven?
He would ask you to move into an apartment with him, and he won't stop asking that question. Wouldn't it be less lonely and more fun to have a roommate?
He just can't come up with a way to confess..maybe the job will do it itself? No Yes,yes it will Wade don't worry.
I follow the headcanons that mention Wolverine having animalistic tendencies and a big one I read about is nesting. Definitely would nest in a small corner of the bedroom. Huge piles of pillows, cushions, etc. And though he’d prefer to go into his caves alone, he will drag you and Deadpool in sometimes too for “extra warmth”
Logan would be hesitant about an official polyamory relationship between the three of you. Wade is DELIGHTED to have you both as are you but Logan grew up and has lived through eras where being queer of any kind is frowned upon, let alone being in a queer polyamorous relationship. So give him a little time to adjust.
Logan likes sleeping longer while Wade’s brain means he’s normally awake incredibly early. And he would have everyone’s favourites down locked (your favourite way to have hot drinks, the fact Logan has his coffee black, etc.) So Wade ends up making breakfast for everyone.
Individual nicknames! Wade to you “Babe, baby, Angel face”. Wade to Logan “Honey, pumpkin, peanut”. Logan to Wade “Bub, Merc, sunshine”. Logan to you “Sweetheart, doll, darlin’”. I’ll let you choose your own for Wade and Logan <3
Trio dates are as much of a necessity as one on one dates! Trio dates tend to involve take out and chilling at home. Dates with Wade are loud and exciting (think amusement parks, karaoke, etc.). Logan’s are fairly chill (bar hopping, riding around on his motorbike, etc.).
You’d all end up in a 1-2 bedroom apartment. You’d share the same bed most nights but there’s always a spare bed juuuuust incase. Logan tends to use it most due to his recurring nightmares. He hates waking you two so he goes either to the kitchen or to the other bedroom. If it’s the other bedroom, at one point or another, you and Wade would wake up and one by one follow Logan to the other bed to cuddle and console him.
Acts of service are the main love language between you three. Wade has issues with his mental state and chronic pain, Logan gets nightmares and pain due to the adamantium. On the bad days, no matter who’s bad day it is, the other two of you will rally together to ensure the third member of the polycule is ok and loved.
The reader’s pronouns are he/him and he’s masculine intended. Otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.
summary: Wade pokes you and you flinch as his finger finds a hole in your shirt, from where Wolverine had grabbed you moments ago. “Sheesh, you practically hole-punched him, pookie," he says to the man, who growls disapprovingly at the nickname.
You’re a bartender working the graveyard shift at Joe’s Diner. You’ve seen some strange people, but these two guys are by far the strangest…
word count: 3.8k | ao3 version
Warnings: canon-typical blood/violence/suggestive humor. Dogpool is referred to with it/its pronouns until the reader warms up to her. Expect lots of pet names and sexual humor, because it’s Wade.
author's notes: This fic is focused on Reader/Wade/Logan, and it’s explicitly romantic (nothing past making out). I know, this is rare for me. lol.
Also I know virtually nothing about the Deadpool & Wolverine movie, so this will be canon non-compliant. We’re going to pretend Joe’s Diner is just in NYC, lol.
You’ve been a bartender at Joe’s Diner for a bit now. Since you work the graveyard shift, you grow used to seeing a variety of people. Out of all the unique personalities and strange people you’ve met across the past few months, Wade takes the cake.
The first few times you see him, he’s wearing a hood over his head, sunglasses, and a face mask. You promptly tell him he looks very suspicious, to which he responds that it’s ‘just his charm’. You roll your eyes and serve him the drinks he wanted, figuring he doesn’t want conversation. Contrary to your expectations, the guy is crazy talkative—quickly introducing himself as Wade before proceeding to talk your ear off. You would be annoyed, but honestly, his chatter is entertaining and it helps the time pass.
If you thought Wade’s first outfit was weird, what he wears next time is far weirder. He’s outfitted with some sort of red spandex jumpsuit, with katanas strapped to his back and combat boots. He looks positively ridiculous, but, this is New York City after all. You settle for just raising a brow at him. He asks for his typical drink and, after some cajoling, admits that he’s a mercenary by the name of Deadpool. You don’t really have anything to do with that information, so you just shrug it off and continue serving him until he leaves an hour later.
From then, Wade makes sporadic visits. The most notable one starts just as any other. It’s about one thirty in the morning, and the bar is quiet. You’ve been serving a gruff-looking guy for about an hour now, and you’re beginning to think you should cut him off. Before you can do that, you hear Wade’s voice.
“Hey, baby!” he greets you. You blink at the pet name, secretly a bit flustered but not showing it. Wade’s just like that.
“Hi, Wade,” you greet him, a small smile on your face. He’s wearing his suit, which hides his facial expressions. His voice sounds happy, though.
Wade sidles up to the bar, before turning to face the guy you’ve been serving drinks to. “I’m gonna need you to come with me right now," he says ominously. You blink in surprise, your heart jumping in your chest a bit at the rather demanding tone in his voice.
“Look, lady," the guy huffs. He spares him a glance, before looking back down at his drink. “I’m not interested.”
You pay a glance at Wade, who seems annoyed. Feeling strangely sympathetic, you try to help him out a bit. Why you do it, you’re not entirely sure. He can defend himself—and probably kick the guy’s ass. But still, you’re speaking before you can get yourself to stop. “That’s just Wade,” you hear yourself explaining to the other guy. “He’s a good guy, he won’t hurt you. Unless you give him reason to.” You blink.
The guy just huffs, clearly uninterested.
“I tried, Wade.” You shrug. At least you can say you tried, and you won’t have to agonize over your silence.
“And I appreciate that, sweetheart,” Deadpool says sincerely, before shaking his head. “Even your handsome face can’t convince him… The guy’s busted.”
You start to tune out their conversation after that, as they exchange verbal blows and insults. Wade seems to be getting more irritated with each passing second, and you know that things will escalate soon if you don’t do something.
You had planned on cutting the guy off, but he motions for you to give him another drink. You know it’s not the best idea, but you find yourself sliding another one over to him before you can contemplate the consequences. He promptly downs it in one go. You think you make eye contact with Wade and you look at the glass pointedly.
“Ah!” he says aloud. You resist the urge to facepalm, instead sneaking glances at the guy. It doesn’t take long for him to pass out and hit the floor. You grimace at the loud sound of his collision with the ground, and hope it wasn’t painful. Then again, the guy seemed pretty muscular—maybe he’ll be fine?
“What’d you put in that thing?” Wade asks incredulously, looking at the empty glass. “Horse tranquilizer? Glitter glue?” You laugh at the latter remark. Glitter glue? Ridiculous, honestly.
“It was just liquor," you huff, leaning over the counter slightly and paying the guy a glance. He’s unconscious, but breathing. You look back up at Wade. “He’s been drinking all night; I figured it would only be a matter of time.”
“I’m speechless," he says, then continues speaking. You chuckle at the irony. Wade is never truly speechless. “Completely speechless. You know, you make quite the accomplice.”
There’s a beat of silence. “What do you plan to do with him, exactly?” you trail off, feeling a little guilty. Maybe you should’ve asked that question a bit earlier. Ah well. It’s too late for that now. Besides, you trust Wade. He’s not a bad guy. He likely needs him for his mercenary/vigilante stuff.
Wade’s answer confirms your suspicions. “Oh, I just need his help with something,” Deadpool says vaguely. He considers the guy for a moment. “Besides, he’s Wolverine. He’ll be just fine.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh, that’s Wolverine? Shit.” To think the heavy drinker at your bar was Wolverine… You shake your head in disbelief.
“Yeah!” Wade confirms. “You just knocked out the mighty Wolverine! Not many people can say that.” You grimace, not feeling particularly proud of that fact.
There are a few seconds of silence before Wade sighs. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta get going.” He almost sounds regretful.
“Have fun,” you say, raising a brow at the ease with which Deadpool tosses him over his shoulder. “Don’t die.”
“I won’t,” he promises, sending you another mock-salute. Then he stumbles for a second. “Damn, this guy’s heavy. Gotta go; adios!” He’s gone in the blink of an eye. You stare at the front doors for a long moment, before rubbing your eyes roughly and half-expecting to wake up in your bed again. That felt like a dream sequence. Unfortunately for you, it seemed to be reality.
Wade returns with Wolverine a few mornings later. How do you find that out, exactly? Well, you’re stepping out of the break room and going to the bar when you see Wolverine rummaging through the cabinets. He very nearly rips the door off of the refrigerator and you quickly intervene.
“What are you doing?” you ask, staring at him in disbelief. “Get out from behind the bar,” you order.
Wolverine growls, but obeys you and settles in one of the seats. “I need a drink,” he says gruffly.
“Then just say that, dumbass," you chastise him. He blinks at you in poorly-concealed disbelief, as if surprised you’ve insulted him. You get the feeling he doesn’t get spoken to like that often. Oops. “What do you want?” you ask. He confirms he wants his usual.
You prepare his drink and watch as he takes a sip. “Wade finally won you over, huh?” you finally manage to ask, unable to hide your curiosity any longer. Wolverine blinks. You look pointedly over to where Deadpool is sitting, pretending not to eavesdrop.
Wolverine scoffs. “No.”
“You sure?” you ask. “He seems to think you did.” You send a wave to Wade and he waves back, waggling his fingers excitedly. He looks about as energetic as a little kid hopped up on sugar. It’s kind of sweet.
“No,” Wolverine repeats.
You take one look at the guy, grumpy and cranky, and come to a quick decision. “You’re cute," you huff amusedly. He puts on a cold and uncaring facade, but it’s clear he isn’t actually like that. Deep beneath those layers of muscle, there’s a heart.
It’s as if you insulted him. Every muscle in his body seems to stiffen. He’s tightly wound and tense. “What did you just say?” Wolverine demands, aggravated.
If you had even an ounce of self-preservation, you’d retract the remark. But it’s nearing three in the morning now, and you’re too tired to care. “I said ‘you’re cute’,” you repeat casually. “Y’know, the whole growly act—”
Suddenly his claws are in your shirt collar and he’s dragging you forward, bringing you far too close to him and rendering the bar counter between you inconsequential. You wince as his breath hits your neck. “I am not cute,” he growls.
“Okay,” you say, if only to placate him. Truthfully, you think his little growly act is quite cute. But it’s clear he doesn’t think so—and objects to the description.
Fortunately, before he can put his claws through your throat and end your life, Wade is intervening. “Hey, hands off, werewolf!” he huffs. “He’s the only capable bartender in this place.”
“Thanks, Wade; I’m flattered," you respond, hoping Wolverine doesn’t notice how fast your heart is racing. You put your hand on Wolverine’s and attempt to get him to release his grip. He stares at you for a long moment, as if reminding you that he has the control in the situation. You just stare back, unimpressed. He finally releases his grip.
“You should be flattered, sweet cheeks,” Wade responds, before getting up from the booth and heading over to the bar. He pokes your shirt and you flinch as his finger finds a hole in your shirt. “Sheesh, you practically hole-punched him, pookie.” Wolverine growls at the nickname, clearly disapproving.
You follow Wade’s gaze to the top of your shirt, where there are puncture marks from Wolverine’s claws. “Aw, seriously?” you complain. Wade’s right—your shirt does look like it was hole-punched. It looks a bit ridiculous. “I liked this shirt.”
“Get another one,” Wolverine says blankly.
You glare at him. He glares back.
Wade is practically bouncing on his heels as he looks between you, either oblivious or uncaring of the tension between the two of you. “Look at us,” he says. “The perfect team. The brains, the brawn, and the beauty.” He points to himself, then Wolverine, then you.
“You think you’re the brains?” you hear yourself say sarcastically before you can stop yourself. Wade gasps in mock-offense. Wolverine huffs in amusement. Deadpool looks between the two of you for several moments, turning his head back and forth.
“What,” Wolverine eventually demands, annoyed with his constant back-and-forth motion.
“I don’t like this little duo,” Wade frowns. At least, you imagine he’s frowning underneath the mask.
“It’s okay, Wade,” you reassure him teasingly. “You can be the beauty, it fits you better.” And you certainly don’t feel like the beauty of this group anyways.
“Aw, you’re making me blush," Wade says, bringing his hands to his cheeks.
“I’m not a part of this,” you feel the need to clarify. They have superpowers, and they’re likely doing something rather important. You’d… rather not join them. You don’t have combat abilities, regeneration, sharpened claws… or anything like that. “But I’ll serve you drinks when it’s all over. When you’re done with… whatever you’re doing,” you offer. Supposedly they’re going on some sort of mission to save the world… Blah blah blah. You don’t know the specifics and you’re grateful for that.
Wolverine huffs at your comment. “I’m going to need one," he says.
“More than one; don’t lie to yourself, buddy,” Deadpool teases. He slaps a hand on the guy’s shoulder in a friendly gesture; Wolverine immediately shoves him off. You resist the urge to laugh, instead pouring him another drink when he asks.
You don’t see Wade or Wolverine for several days. You’re a bit worried, truthfully—but you know they likely have far better things to do than spend time here with you, in the wee hours of the morning. You can only hope they’re not too exhausted.
Finally, after far too long, the front doors open one morning to reveal familiar red and yellow costumes. You look at the two superhumans for a moment, taking in the blood splattered across their tattered clothes and the dark circles under their eyes. They look absolutely exhausted. There’s a dog in a matching red spandex suit at Wade’s ankles; and Wolverine looks less pissed than usual, which is admittedly concerning. What makes you laugh, though, is the state of their tattered uniforms. Wade’s suit is wrecked and Wolverine is wearing a strange mask with two protruding horns. You greet the two of them, before eventually giving in and laughing at the sheer state they’re in.
“What,” Wolverine demands, taking a seat at the bar. Wade follows his lead, taking the seat next to him. Wolverine doesn’t so much as put up a fight—a clear indication of his fatigue.
“Sorry,” you say, not feeling particularly apologetic as you struggle to suppress more laughter. You slide him his drink. “It’s just hard to take you seriously wearing that mask.”
Wade cackles. “You’re not much better, Wade,” you say with a slight smile, getting his drink for him. “You look like a broken fire hydrant.”
It’s Wolverine’s turn to look amused. “You do,” he agrees.
“Shut up!” Wade huffs defensively.
“It’s okay, Wade,” you say with faux concern. Your eyes fall to the dog that came in with him. “Just watch out for your dog; it’ll probably pee on you.” Wolverine snickers.
“Dogpool!” Wade remarks, as if just remembering the animal’s existence. You roll your eyes, unsurprised that the dog has slipped his attention. He seems like the type to forget he has a pet.
“Wade, don’t put your dog on the bar counter—” you hiss. But it’s too late—Wade has picked up the dirty dog and placed it on the bar counter, where people drink and eat. Immune to your stress, the dog runs about in small circles, before deciding to scare the shit out of you by jumping right at you.
You’re forced to catch it. You hold it at a distance, if only because its fur looks matted, dirty, and splattered with the blood of this duo’s enemies. You hold the dog at arm’s length, looking at Wade expectantly. But he’s just laughing his ass off, because of course he is. You hold the dog out to Logan next, but he just shakes his head. Sighing, you set it down on the ground. It’ll lose interest soon.
But the dog—Dogpool, you remind yourself, unable to take the name seriously—only yips and runs between your legs, before trying to climb up one of them and panting as it stares up at you. “Wade,” you say. “Care to explain why your dog is humping my leg?”
“Aw, she’s just like her father,” Wade coos. You’re sputtering at the remark. “C’mere baby,” Wade says, rounding the bar and holding his arms out to her.
Dogpool doesn’t even seem to notice him, instead wagging her tail as she still claws at your leg and tries to climb you.
“Come to daddy, come on,” Wade urges her, making little noises as he beckons her closer. You grimace as she stays near you. Wade visibly deflates. “You’ve stolen my dog’s heart! How dare you?!”
As if you have any control over the situation. But secretly, the longer you look at the dog, the more endearing she becomes. She’s kind of cute. Just a little. Emboldened by Wade’s frustration, you pick up the dog and hold her in your arms. Wade pretends to cry, then attempts to make grabby-hands and get you to give her over.
You wince as she promptly licks your face with her absurdly long tongue. “Okay, no, never mind—” You quickly back out, placing her down on the counter again. It’s not the ideal place for her, but at least she won’t attempt to coat you in slobber again.
“Wow, Deadpool is in love with you,” Wade comments, seemingly less bothered now. Then he seems to realize what he just said and starts stammering. “I meant Dogpool. Not Deadpool. That’s me.” You regret the fact that he’s wearing his mask, because you swear it almost sounds like he’s flustered.
Wolverine looks rather entertained by this conversation. “It’s an alternate version of yourself, and it still likes him better,” he points out. Wade isn’t happy with that comment; Wolverine has a wry smile on his face. “Go to your father,” he then says, tapping the dog lightly and directing her to Wade. She runs up to him and yips excitedly.
“Aw, you know I can never stay mad at you, honey,” Wade says to the dog, making kissing sounds. You watch the display with amusement, thankful the dog has seemingly forgotten about you. You don’t realize you’re smiling until you feel Wolverine’s gaze burning into the side of your face.
You blink and turn to him. “Want another drink, Wolverine?” you ask him, a bit restless under the weight of his gaze.
“Not on this counter,” Wolverine huffs. Then he straightens. “And it’s Logan.”
“Fair enough,” you acquiesce with a smile. Dogpool did just run all over it. “Logan,” you correct yourself. He nods. You decide to focus your attention on cleaning the counter, so you don’t have to think about the look in his eyes as you said his name.
In the coming weeks, Wade and Logan visit frequently. They always make sure to sit at the bar when you’re working, talking to you and saving you from your boredom. It’s nice to see them slowly return to their normal, well-rested selves. You have to admit: you were a bit worried about them when they showed up with blood splattered across their costumes a while ago.
Idly, you have to wonder why they still keep visiting you. Sure, you serve drinks—but you work at ungodly hours, and the liquor served here certainly isn’t anything special. It’s a bit cheaper, you suppose. But overall, there are no overwhelming qualities about Joe’s Diner that would make you want to choose it over a regular bar.
That particular mystery remains unsolved for a while, until one day after hours, when Wade strolls in purposefully—Logan following at his heels. Wade makes a beeline for the bar stool nearest where you’re standing and takes a seat, looking at you pointedly. He isn’t wearing his mask, allowing you to see the intensity of his gaze. He studies you for a long moment.
Wade seems uncharacteristically nervous and jittery. His fingers tap restlessly against the counter. His leg is bouncing and his gaze can’t seem to settle on any one thing for too long. “I like you,” he eventually says, so quietly that you almost convince yourself you misheard. “Like, like you, like you.”
“You had weeks to prepare, and that’s what you came up with?” Logan says snarkily, clearly unimpressed. He stands a short distance away with his arms crossed over his chest.
“He likes you too, but he’s too grouchy to admit it,” Wade says for Logan; Logan promptly claws him in the arm. “Ow,” Wade says. The remark seems to be born out of instinct, rather than genuine pain. He sends Wolverine an inscrutable look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you.
“Well, I like you like you too,” you answer after a few seconds, a small smile on your face. “Both of you. If it’s true,” you add on, because Logan doesn’t seem particularly pleased. But he also doesn’t object to Wade’s statement, so it must be true.
“Yay!” Wade interjects, promptly leaning over the counter and kissing you excitedly. His hands find the nape of your neck and he’s tugging you into him with a fierce grin. After a few moments, he breaks away and looks behind him—all without letting his hand fall from your face. “You gonna join us, buddy?” Wade asks.
“I’m fine here,” Logan says with a smirk.
“Perv,” Wade remarks, before turning back to you. He kisses you enthusiastically, his hands falling to the collar of your shirt.
“Jesus, Wade, don’t throw me over the counter,” you huff when you break apart, secretly worried that he’ll drag you halfway across the room.
“Wolfie’ll catch ya, don’t worry,” Wade says with a grin. Is that supposed to be reassuring? He keeps kissing you, nearly tugging you over the counter again. At some point, you have to actually catch yourself from falling into the surface.
“Just— Wait,” you say, not even thinking before jumping and sliding over the counter quickly. You’re standing next to him now. “Better?” you ask.
Wade blinks once, twice. His lips are parted in surprise. You’re starting to feel self-conscious and embarrassed when he breaks through the tense silence. “That was hot,” Wade says. You scoff disbelievingly and Wade turns to look at Logan, as if hearing him do something. “And I think Claws over there agrees,” he points out.
Before you can even process what’s happening, Logan is standing in front of you, backing you into the bar counter and kissing you. And even through the nearly overwhelming sensations—one of his hands on your hip, the other boxing you in; the tangible weight of his muscled forearm as you grasp it—you can hear Wade cheering excitedly. It’s so stupid that you find yourself laughing, to the point where you have to take a breath.
“Sorry, it’s just— Wade, what are you doing?” you laugh breathlessly, looking over at him. Logan’s hand remains on your hip even as he follows your gaze, glaring murderously at Wade.
“Just fanboying, don’t mind me,” he shrugs, sitting on one of the bar stools and kicking his feet. He looks very gleeful. “Y’all are so cute.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Get over here, Red Riding Hood.”
“Aw, then that makes you the Big Bad Wolf,” Wade remarks, skipping up to both of you. “Tumblr’s gonna eat this up. We should get T-shirts, or maybe—” Logan’s kissing him before he can continue speaking.
You’re confident the three of you would stay there forever, if not for Dogpool’s unexpected interruption. She runs up to your legs and then jumps at Wade. Wade freezes and looks down at her with a gasp. “Her sweet virgin eyes!” he exclaims, bending down to pick her up. “Poor baby. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Not sure if she’s a virgin anymore, after what she was doing to my leg earlier,” you mutter quietly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Logan overhears in his proximity and laughs. That may be the first time you’ve ever heard him express such genuine amusement. It must be a rare sight, because Wade is also looking at him in surprise.
“So you can laugh,” Wade says, pretty much pouting. He’s still holding Dogpool in his arms, and he’s bouncing her up and down as if she’s a baby. “You don’t laugh at things I say,” he frowns.
“Because you’re not funny,” Logan responds with a shit-eating grin.
“Hmph.” Wade is dejected for all of ten seconds, until Dogpool promptly licks his face and you all abandon the argument to laugh.
Me: Would Deadpool say ‘adios’?
@connorhasabigtip, my bestie: Yeah, he’d say it unironically because he’s a little slut.
Me: *laughing my ass off*
I formatted this in between rounds of Squid Game on Roblox… and I think that’s what Wade would’ve wanted.
I looked up pictures of Joe’s Diner and was like, hm, they don’t have a bar + the counter’s too high and filled with stuff. Then I decided I didn’t care, ‘cause this is fiction. If I want to slide over a bar counter, then I’m sliding over a bar counter, physics be damned.
“It’s hard to take you seriously wearing that mask,” is a Dance Moms reference, bahaha (“Jill is yelling and screaming, and all I can think is, ‘It’s so hard to take you seriously wearing that hat.’”)
thanks for reading! <3
check out my other works, sorted by fandom.
general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you
friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!
