Fated || Deadpool x wolverine x m!reader

"I hate how easy it is to get used to this. To you two."

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The restaurant Wade had chosen was...extravagant, to say the least. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased a glittering view of the city skyline, and the soft hum of classical music drifted through the air. The tables were draped in crisp white cloths, and servers in formal attire glided through the room, carrying plates that looked more like works of art than food.

It was the kind of place that screamed suit and tie required.

Which is why you didn't bother wearing that instead you just wore your usual comfortable clothes, a black hoodie and jeans cause why not. You hadn't even bothered with dress shoes, opting instead for sneakers/boots/whatever that matched the outfit.

You spotted Wade and Logan immediately. Wade, wearing a red turtleneck and his mask which he decided to keep on for some reason.

Logan, looked sharp and understood the formal attire theme, He was dressed in a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was...dare you say, actually good looking for once and not some drunk homeless guy

Wade noticed you first, his eyes lighting up as he stood and waved dramatically. "Y/n! Over here!"

You rolled your eyes, making your way to their table. "If I knew this place was going to be so pretentious, I wouldn't have come."

"You're here, aren't you?" Logan said, smirking faintly as he leaned back in his chair. "Guess that means we're doing something right."

"Or I'm just curious to see how you two embarrass yourselves," you shot back, sliding into the seat across from them.

Wade placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. "Us? Embarrass ourselves? Never. We're the picture of sophistication."

"Sure," you said dryly, glancing at the table. A single candle flickered in the center, and the place settings were so elaborate you weren't entirely sure which fork to use.

"Relax," Logan said, his tone calm but amused. "You'll survive."

"Not without a drink, I won't," you muttered, reaching for the wine list.

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The three of you settled in quickly, the bond thrumming softly in the background as conversation flowed.

Wade, unsurprisingly, dominated the table chatter, recounting ridiculous stories that were either heavily exaggerated or completely fabricated. "And that's how I ended up naked in a tree, covered in honey, while Logan here threatened to gut me."

"Pretty sure half of that didn't happen," you said, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your drink.

"Actually," Logan interjected, smirking, "he wasn't entirely naked. He had socks on."

You nearly choked on your wine as Wade beamed proudly. "See? peanut confirms it. The story checks out."

Logan shook his head, leaning forward slightly. "Enough about that. What about you? Got any stories to share?"

You hesitated, your fingers brushing the rim of your glass. "Not really. My life's not exactly exciting."

Wade gasped dramatically. "Not exciting? Y/n, you've been in more fights than a drunk cowboy at a bar on karaoke night."

"Doesn't mean I want to talk about them over dinner," you said.

Logan chuckled, his sharp eyes meeting yours. "Fair enough. But you've got to give us something. How'd you get into this line of work?"

You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. "I don't know. Seemed like the only thing I was good at."

Wade's grin softened, his tone unexpectedly sincere. "You're good at a lot more than that, pookie. You just don't give yourself enough credit."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. Logan didn't say anything, but the faint warmth in his expression said he agreed.

You looked away, focusing on the candle flickering in the center of the table. "Whatever," you muttered, though the bond hummed softly in response, wrapping around you like a quiet reassurance.

By the time dessert arrived, you were feeling more relaxed—probably thanks to the wine and the fact that Wade and Logan hadn't done anything too ridiculous.

Wade leaned back in his chair, eyeing the plate of fancy chocolate cake in front of him. "So, what do you think? Best date ever, or the best date ever?"

"Let's not get carried away," you said, though the corner of your mouth twitched upward.

Logan smirked, cutting into his own dessert with practiced ease. "Better than you expected, though."

You sighed, picking at your cake. "Maybe....it's smoother and less chaotic."

Wade gasped, pointing his fork at you. "Was that a compliment? Did you just admit we're not the worst soulmates ever?"

"Don't push it," you muttered, though the bond thrummed warmly, betraying your words.

Logan chuckled, his smirk softening. "We'll take it."

As the night wound down and the three of you left the restaurant, Wade threw an arm around your shoulders, grinning like a fool.

"Alright, N/n," he said. "What's next? Midnight karaoke? A rooftop stroll? Ooh, or we could break into that bakery down the street and steal some croissants."

"Or," Logan interjected, "we call it a night before you scare him off."

Wade pouted. "You're no fun."

You shook your head, unable to hide your faint smile as the three of you walked into the night.