You were exhausted. Being a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative and dating Wade Wilson in secret was enough to wipe anyone out, but you were relieved to step through the door of your apartment and sit down on the couch.
When you looked up, Wade was sitting on the counter, still in his uniform. His arms were crossed, and he was staring right at you.
"Babe," you said, but he didn't move or reply. "Babe, stop staring,"
He slipped off of the counter and inched closer.
"We're not doing this again, are we?" you asked, too tired to run away from him right now. "Wade, I mean it!"
He walked closer, prowling like a cat. You stood from the couch, whipped your hair out of your ponytail and started to move away from him. He moved faster, and so did you, running to get away. But his legs were longer than yours, and it didn't take you long to tire out. He pinned you to the door of your bedroom, his face only inches from yours.
"I missed you," He breathed. He peeled his mask upwards just above his nose and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily until he had to break for air.
"Bad day?" You asked, panting. He nodded wordlessly and captured your lips again. You kept his pace, kissing him back. He broke away, stopping to lean his forehead on yours.
"You have no idea how much I've needed this,"
"What happened?"
"The usual shit. Pointless backstory. It's not important." He stopped explaining and kissed you again, his lips lingering on yours, soft and gentle, but suddenly quick and rough without a second's warning. But you didn't have a problem with it.
Thinking about where this was headed, you opened the door to your shared bedroom, grabbing the collar of his uniform and pulling him inside.
