habromania → marvel imagines

{ wade wilson }

april fool's fool
type: fluff
pairing: wade wilson x fem!reader

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April Fools was Wade's favourite day for a reason.

"Can you take anything seriously, Wade?" Logan's voice rang throughout the whole mansion, echoing through the halls. "Why are you even here? How did you even get in?"

Wade winced. "I'm not sure you want me to answer that, baby."

"Don't call me that." the mutant snarled, palms tearing at the now dirtied shirt clad across his chest.

The mercenary laughed, a sound many of the mutants and humans alone had heard before. A sound only one person seemed to not find mocking. "I'm sorry," he wasn't sorry. "I just can't take you seriously covered in glitter, Logabear. It suits you, by the way."

"Get out, Wilson."

"Make me."

Negasonic emerged from one of the secluded rooms. At least, that's what Wade thought. She was so silent, she could've been there the whole time. Regardless, she prevented another wolverine outburst upon arrival. Had she known, she may have stayed silent a few moments longer. "You realise we've got your partner on speed dial, right?"

"Oh, Ellie," Wade retreated back toward the entrance of the mansion, blowing Logan what he could only describe as 'one last kiss'. "you sure do know me well."

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There was only one place he could go. Well, Wade could've gone home, but what's the fun in that? Not when he knew she wouldn't be there.

In fact, he hadn't seen his secretary since last night. The only thing keeping him from a murderous panic was the letter he had awoken to next to him instead of the usual warm body:

Dear Mouthy,

I know it's not exactly ideal to see a sheet of paper instead of my amazing face. Don't worry, you weren't drugged and I didn't shape-shift into a dead tree overnight. I'm simply writing to tell you how I'll be at Sister Margaret's later on. Meet me there around nine. Or, whenever you get the April shit out of your system. Wade, you know I love you, I just can't be pranked before I've at least got a blowjob in my system. No, that's not an invitation. That's me saying that you need to get Weasel to change that name. Like fast, before you never get one again.

Love you,
Secretary x
(p.s: can we change that nickname)

There it was. Sister Margaret's. Wade doubted whether or not she'd even be there given it was only eight. Well, it was quarter past seven, which you could round up to seven thirty, then why round to seven thirty? Thirty is such a weird number. Either way, it's halfway through the hour so you'd, surely, just round it up to eight.

Mathematics.

But there she was. As soon as he opened the door.

Head now cleared of the events of today, and the start of his favourite day therefore month, Wade admired her.

It was this day four years ago he had met her. In a similar dress. On her, not him.