Wade Wilson sat back in the luxurious leather seat of Xavier's private jet, feeling like a kid in a candy store, except this candy was a buffet of destruction and had a serious expiration date. The jet was sleek, top-of-the-line, the kind of plane you'd see in a spy movie... if spies were allowed to be sarcastic, talk to themselves constantly, and, you know, maybe set a few things on fire.
He cracked his knuckles and slid a hefty weapons briefcase onto his lap. "Oh, baby, here it is," he murmured to the open air as he popped it open. "My toys. All from the mind of Nick Fury, a man who clearly knows how to treat his favorite mercenary." Wade's eyes gleamed as he pulled out a shiny, black crossbow, rubbing it like it was a beloved pet. "This little baby right here? Pure class. You shoot someone with this, and it's like, 'Ooh, I'm refined, I kill with elegance.'"
Across from him, Logan, sitting with his arms crossed and his usual scowl carved into his face, gave Wade a long, hard look. "You done talking to yourself yet, freak?"
Wade ignored him, clearly enjoying the interaction with no one in particular. "You know, you're gonna miss out on these. Look at this, Logan." He pulled out a grenade launcher like it was a water gun, aiming it lazily at the wall. "Could you imagine the destruction? I mean, sure, I could just kill people the old-fashioned way with knives or guns, but why not have some fun? Like, it's a Tuesday, and I'm in the mood for some fireworks. What do you think?"
Logan didn't even look up from the half-assed crossword puzzle he was working on. "You're gonna blow this plane to pieces, aren't you?"
"Me?!" Wade feigned surprise. "I'm a professional, Logan. You can't just blow up a jet willy-nilly. Gotta make sure the bombs are in all the right places first. Maybe just a couple of small explosions to, you know, take out the bad guys but keep the important stuff—like me—intact."
Logan didn't bother to respond, but his lips curled into the faintest of smirks, a rare sign of recognition that yes, Wade was being his usual self—irritating, unpredictable, and probably about to break every single rule in the manual.
Wade's fingers danced through the case like it was a buffet of destruction. "Oh, and don't get me started on this bad boy," he said, pulling out what looked like a cross between a sword and a rocket launcher. "Nick Fury calls it 'The Boomstick.' It's a shotgun with a side of nuclear fallout. Don't ask me how it works. Science, right? I don't know science. I just know murder."
Logan looked at it, gave a quiet grunt, and went back to his crossword, clearly unimpressed. "If it gets us to Madrid in one piece, do whatever you want, Deadpool. Just don't blow a hole in the damn floor."
"Ah, so you do care about the plane," Wade chirped, tossing the 'Boomstick' back into the case and pulling out a gleaming katana instead. He admired the blade, the light reflecting off the polished steel. "What do you think? Think I could slice through a tank with this? Or maybe... Ajax's face?"
Logan finally gave him a sharp look. "You're obsessed with that guy."
Wade's grin turned into something mischievous, like a cat who had just knocked something off a table and was waiting for you to notice. "I'm not obsessed, Logan. It's revenge. And revenge is, like, my middle name." He paused, staring at Logan's confused expression. "Okay, that's not true. My middle name's actually... it's not important, but you get the point. I'm gonna end Ajax, and I'm gonna love every second of it."
Warren Worthington III—otherwise known as Angel—finally made his entrance, looking impossibly pristine as he strolled down the jet aisle, his wings folded neatly behind him like they were part of an expensive suit. He stopped, glancing at Wade, who was still playing with the weapons. "What's with all the toys, Deadpool? You planning on assassinating the entire Madrid government, or just Ajax?"
Wade looked up with a grin so wide it could only be described as dangerous. "Oh, just Ajax. He's the special one, the one that deserves all of this... love. But I do plan to make it a bit of a show when I do it. I mean, what's the point of killing a guy if you don't make it fun?"
Warren rolled his eyes, the kind of eye-roll only a guy with angel wings could pull off. "Yeah, 'fun.' You're about as 'fun' as a drunk guy with a flamethrower."
"Hey, that's a low blow," Wade shot back, flipping open another compartment to reveal a set of ridiculously huge grenades that looked like they could take out a small country. "Don't hate the game, Angel. Hate the player."
Warren shot him a flat look. "You really are insane, aren't you?"
"Insane?" Wade mimicked his tone, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "No, no, no. I'm not insane. I'm creatively disturbed. There's a difference. Look, if I were insane, I'd be doing something boring like sitting quietly in a padded room. But nooooo, I've got a mission—a mission to get my girl back, to make Ajax regret ever thinking he could hold my face in a burning building. Oh, and by the way, I'm not exactly sure she wants me back... considering I look like a melted piece of sadness now, but hey, I'll die trying."
Logan grunted again, his patience clearly running thin. "You're the worst."
"No, Logan," Wade corrected him, tapping his chest dramatically, "I'm the best. I'm just, like, way too good for this world. They don't even know what to do with me." He paused and gave Logan an exaggerated wink. "But you, my friend, you're stuck with me. How lucky are you?"
Logan just rolled his eyes again. "No more talking. Please."
Wade sighed dramatically, then grinned. "Sure, sure. I'll shut up. But when I blow up that building in Madrid and save my girl, don't come crying to me when you realize that you're jealous."
—
Wade's eyes suddenly lit up like a kid who'd just discovered that Santa had left all the presents for him this year. He tossed the weapons aside and reached for the last case in the pile—one he hadn't noticed before. It was sleek, black, with a design that was just... too familiar. A name was etched in silver on the side: "To Logan."
Wade raised an eyebrow, his mouth curling into a grin as he looked around, suspiciously quiet for once. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? A little gift from our boy Harry?" He gave Logan a sidelong glance. "I have to say, I didn't know the kid liked you that much."
Logan glanced up from his crossword, eyeing the case. His face was all frowns and growls. "What did you do?"
Wade pretended to act hurt, clutching his chest. "What did I do? I didn't do anything!" He opened the case with all the dramatic flair of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Inside was a very colorful suit. Yellow, blue, and black, all wrapped up in a spandex-y, stretchy-looking mess of material.
Logan's brow furrowed as Wade held it up, grinning like a shark that had just found the last seal in the ocean. "What is that?" Logan asked flatly.
"Oh, it's your new look, buddy," Wade teased, his voice dripping with mock excitement. "From Harry himself! He said you'd appreciate it. It's a gift." He swung the suit in the air, admiring the yellow and blue color scheme. "Look at that, buddy. The Wolverine universe edition, with a little punch of style, don't you think?"
Logan just stared at it, unamused. "That's... ridiculous."
Wade laughed so hard he snorted. "Ridiculous?! No, no, no. It's iconic, Logan. You're gonna look like a cross between a walking bumblebee and a kid's cartoon character. You know, like if the X-Men went full Looney Tunes. You're gonna be the most fabulous guy in the whole damn team. You should thank Harry, man. He's got style!"
Logan's eyes narrowed, but Wade wasn't done. He pulled out the suit, examining it further as though it were an expensive piece of fine art. "I mean, really, this could be a game-changer for you. You've been all gruff and brooding for so long, it's time for a change. Just picture it: the yellow spandex—it's practically begging to be worn." He struck a ridiculous pose, holding the suit up to his body like a runway model. "It says, 'I'm strong, but I also like to have fun.' You could rock it, Logan."
Logan gave Wade a flat stare, unimpressed. "That thing's not even close to my size."
Wade snapped his fingers. "Ah, yes, yes, size, the technicalities." He reached down and grabbed a small remote from the case. "I believe Harry had this little gadget designed to adjust things to your... special needs." With a smirk, he pressed a button.
The suit immediately started to grow and shift, expanding to fit the size of the seat in front of Wade, eventually settling into what could only be described as a form-fitting version of Wolverine's bright yellow and blue nightmare.
"Whoa," Wade muttered, impressed. "Okay, it's a tight fit—but I gotta admit, this thing has some flair. I mean, you're gonna be the sunshine of the team. Everyone will have to wear sunglasses just to look at you, Logan. It's that dazzling."
Logan was still glaring at him. "You really think I'm wearing that?"
Wade cocked his head, giving Logan an exaggerated look of shock and disbelief. "I mean, if you don't wear it, then what's the point of all this, Logan? Are you saying that you don't want to be the most stylish X-Man? Not even a little? What's next? You gonna throw a tantrum and ruin the whole surprise?"
Logan grunted, folding his arms. "You're messing with me."
"Messing with you?" Wade gasped dramatically. "I'm just trying to give you the gift of fashion, Logan. This suit right here could change your life. You'd be the talk of the entire superhero community. People would stop, stare, and say, 'That's the Wolverine? The one who single-handedly obliterates people with claws? Yeah, but have you seen his outfit?' You'll be the talk of the town."
Wade continued to hover the suit in front of Logan, swishing it like a cape. "You can't tell me you're not a little curious to put it on, huh? I mean, I know you don't exactly love looking like a walking cactus all the time, so why not spice things up?"
Logan just shook his head, clearly more interested in his crossword puzzle than Wade's banter. "You're a pain in the ass."
"Oh, but I'm your pain in the ass, Logan," Wade said, giving him a wink. "Besides, we both know you secretly love it when I push your buttons. You just don't want to admit it."
Logan sighed and muttered under his breath, "I'll never hear the end of this, will I?"
"Hell no," Wade responded, grinning wider than ever. "Now, think about it, Logan. You and that suit could totally take down Ajax in style. You'll be like a colorful, deadly rainbow of fury." Wade winked dramatically. "Who doesn't love a good revenge story with a happy ending?"
Wade shrugged, finally putting the suit back into the case and giving it a loving pat. "But, hey, if you don't want it, I'll happily take it for myself. Could you imagine me in that suit? You'd never be able to handle this much sex appeal in one package. But, you know, I'm thinking of letting you have the honor. For now."
Logan looked at him, unamused. "Just shut up and get ready for the mission."
Wade grinned, satisfied with the absolute chaos he'd just unleashed in Logan's life. "Fine, fine. But just know, when you're fighting in Madrid, and you're wearing that suit, it's gonna be the most epic Wolverine moment since... well, since ever. You're welcome."
—
Logan walked out of the washroom, every step filled with reluctant defiance. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Wade's gleeful expression. The suit... the bright yellow and blue monstrosity... was fitted tightly around his body, every muscle clearly outlined in the spandex. He looked like a walking banana split with claws.
Wade was grinning like a maniac, eyes sparkling as he took in the sight. "Well, well, Logan. You look... stunning," he said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Honestly, you should be thanking Harry. This is a game-changer. You're rocking that yellow like nobody's business."
Logan scowled, clearly not sharing Wade's enthusiasm. He crossed his arms, shifting awkwardly as the spandex strained against his muscular build. "This isn't me, Wade," he grunted, his tone dark. "I'm not wearing this."
"Oh, but you are, buddy," Wade said, leaning against the wall and folding his arms like he was about to deliver a lecture. "Because, see, this isn't just about fashion, it's about revenge—and every hero, even a grumpy old man like you, needs their signature look."
Logan growled under his breath but stayed silent for a moment, clearly debating whether to storm back into the washroom and tear the thing off. But before he could make a move, Wade's voice cut through the air again, this time with a tone that was way too pleased with himself.
"Hey, hey, hey! Where's the mask?"
Logan shot him a glare. "What do you mean, mask?"
Wade pointed at Logan's head with a dramatic flourish. "The mask! You can't be Wolverine without the mask, man! It's like... like peanut butter without jelly. It's like a taco without the filling. It's unthinkable."
Logan was already annoyed. Now, with this ridiculous mask business, he was downright ready to strangle Wade with the nearest piece of furniture. "I don't need a mask, Wade."
"Ahhh, yes you do, Logan. You see, it's like the cherry on top of your 'I'm an angry mutant with claws' look. And come on, it's attached to the suit like a hoodie, so just... just throw it on! It's gonna complete the transformation!" Wade was practically bouncing on his heels now. "Besides, how else are you going to show the world you mean business? Hmm?"
Logan glared at him for a moment, his fingers twitching at his sides as though tempted to pop his claws and see just how much damage he could do with a quick swipe. But he didn't. Instead, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine," he muttered, reaching up and yanking the mask from the suit.
Wade watched with a look of pure, sick joy as Logan fumbled with the mask. "That's the spirit! Oh, you'll thank me later, Logan. I'm all about team building and moral support—especially with this much sex appeal involved."
Logan grunted as he pulled the mask over his face. The moment the material settled around his head, something strange happened. There was a faint hum, a pulse of energy, and the suit... it shifted.
Logan blinked, his hands going instinctively to the newly formed armor. The spandex he'd been so uncomfortable in was now replaced with a tactical suit—black and silver plating interwoven with sleek, high-tech design. The yellow and blue were still there, but now it had an edge, an armor-like quality that gave Logan the appearance of a battle-hardened warrior. The suit seemed to adapt, hugging his form with tactical precision, the fabric now thicker, tougher, and far more practical than it had been. There were no longer any visible seams of spandex; it looked like actual armor.
Logan's lips curled into a satisfied grin as he looked down at the new transformation. The material felt solid, protective, and, best of all, it was comfortable. This, he could get behind.
"Well, I'll be damned," Logan muttered, flexing his arms and feeling the armor shift with him. "This is better."
Wade, now positively bouncing on his feet, grinned wildly. "Told ya! The mask does it every time. It's like magic—tactical magic. Not only are you gonna look cooler, but you're gonna feel more powerful. Way better than the banana suit, right?"
Logan looked at him and gave a small nod, still feeling the weight of the armor settling around his shoulders. "You were right. I'll give you that much."
Wade threw up his hands like he had just been handed an award. "Yes! Victory is mine!" Then, with a smirk, he added, "I bet you didn't think I could give you an upgrade like that. You're welcome, buddy."
Logan, now clearly more comfortable in his suit, turned his attention to the other member of their little team. "What about you, Angel? You gonna stand there and gawk all day, or are you gonna get into your costume, too?"
Angel—aka Warren Worthington III—was standing off to the side, fiddling with the straps of his gear. He shot a glance at Logan and Wade, then quickly ducked into the adjoining room.
"Don't rush me," Warren's voice came back from behind the door. "This thing is a little more... intricate than Logan's superhero onesie. I've got wings to deal with, remember?"
Logan chuckled low in his throat, flexing his newly armored hands. "Wings, huh? Let's see what you got."
A few moments later, Warren reappeared, now wearing his full X-Men costume. The black-and-yellow motif was bold and sleek, complete with a new pair of wings, which stretched out and gave him a menacing, angelic look. His wings were now coated in a shimmering metal-like substance, shimmering as he moved, and they looked even more lethal than before.
"Well, well, well, look at you," Wade said, checking out Warren's new look. "Lookin' all angelic and menacing, huh? You sure you're not auditioning for a role in a Broadway show about the apocalypse?"
Warren smirked. "Shut up, Wade."
Logan couldn't resist a sly grin as he shot one last look at Wade. "I'm just glad I'm not the only one looking ridiculous today."
Wade spread his arms wide in mock innocence. "Hey, I've got a spandex-free look, my friend. But we're all special here in our own way."
The trio was now fully suited up, ready for whatever awaited them in Madrid, but it was clear that, for a moment at least, their banter and sarcastic remarks had allowed them to settle into their roles, quirks and all.
—
As the private jet touched down on the quiet airstrip in Madrid, the engines wound down with a soft roar, sending a final echo across the barren landscape. The plane's wheels screeched lightly against the tarmac, coming to a halt before the hangar, where a sleek black SUV was already waiting—complete with tinted windows and the unmistakable SHIELD logo stamped on its door.
Inside the jet, Wade Wilson—Deadpool, that is—couldn't help but stretch in his seat. The last few hours of cramped travel had done nothing for his mood or his sense of personal space. But now? Well, now things were about to get fun.
"Alright, team," Deadpool said, reaching into his bag for his weapons, pulling out his katanas with a flourish. "We're here. You know what that means?"
Logan, still fidgeting with the fine-tuned edges of his new suit, gave him an uninterested side glance. "It means we get to deal with your idea of 'fun,' huh?"
"Exactly!" Wade said, practically bouncing in his seat, the excitement palpable. "Time to kick some ass, look like we're in a Bond movie, and make Mr. Smith regret the day he crossed me."
Warren Worthington III, now clad in his own new X-Men gear, flapped his wings slightly, preparing for the flight ahead. "You sure about that, Wade? You're acting like you've got a plan."
"Do I look like a guy who doesn't have a plan?" Wade asked with mock seriousness, then winked. "Of course I do. I'm Deadpool. It's all part of my charm, baby."
The trio stood up as the hatch of the jet slid open, revealing the hot Spanish sun beating down. Deadpool was the first to hop out, practically skipping across the tarmac toward the waiting SUV. Behind him, Logan and Warren exchanged a look and followed at a more methodical pace.
As they approached the vehicle, the door swung open, revealing a man in a sharp black suit. His dark hair was neatly combed back, and his sunglasses reflected the sunlight in a way that made him look like a movie star on a mission.
"Senores," the man greeted, his voice smooth with a hint of gravitas. He had an almost too polished air about him, like he was auditioning for the role of the suave spy.
Deadpool immediately stepped forward, flashing his best "I'm-the-coolest-guy-in-the-room" smile. "Ah, I see we're getting the Antonio Banderas treatment. A little extra flair, huh? Is this your real job, or are you just playing secret agent for fun?"
The agent—whose name, it seemed, was Victor Alvarez—smiled, but there was an undeniable air of professionalism in his gaze. "I assure you, Mr. Wilson, I am very much real in my duties. And yes, I understand your... cultural references. Though, I must admit, you have a rather colorful sense of humor."
Wade winked. "What can I say? I like to keep it spicy. So, what's the deal, amigo? I'm ready to kick some serious ass."
Alvarez's expression shifted slightly as he opened the folder in his hand and began to speak with quiet authority. "We've been tracking Ajax for months now. But we've hit a wall. However, we were able to find one of his closest associates, a man named Mr. Smith. We believe he's the key to finding Freeman. He's been keeping a low profile, but we managed to gather intel on his movements."
Logan stepped forward, his jaw tightening. "Mr. Smith. That's the guy we need to go after?"
"That's correct," Alvarez confirmed. "He's been handling Ajax's operations, and he seems to be the last link in this chain. If we can get to him, we can finally close in on Ajax and his plans."
Wade threw his arms out dramatically, still acting like he was the hero of a summer blockbuster. "Well, there we go, folks. Mr. Smith. I've got a bone to pick with him, and it's time for some payback. Plus, I'm really starting to get antsy. Gotta get Vanessa back and make sure Francis Freeman understands that revenge is best served... well, I'd say 'hot,' but I'm not sure if that's entirely appropriate."
Alvarez raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Wade's antics, but he continued as if nothing had happened. "We've identified the location where Mr. Smith has been operating from. It's a warehouse near the outskirts of the city. We've kept an eye on it, but we need a team to go in, take him down, and extract information."
Deadpool leaned in with a grin, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, this is starting to feel like a real mission now. A warehouse, sneaky bad guys... Are there any henchmen in suits we can beat up? Maybe a giant tank?"
Alvarez's lips curled into a small smile, clearly used to Wade's theatrics by now. "There might be a few surprises inside. Just be careful."
Wade cracked his knuckles. "Careful? Oh, don't worry, buddy. I'm always careful." He added with a wink. "Except when I'm not. But hey, that's what makes it fun!"
Logan looked at Wade, then at Alvarez, before grumbling, "You really do talk too much."
"Don't worry, Logan," Wade said with a wink, "I'll take the talking for both of us."
As Alvarez handed Wade a piece of paper with coordinates and more intel, Deadpool shoved it into his utility belt, then clapped his hands together. "Alright, gentlemen, looks like we've got ourselves a little adventure. Mr. Smith, you're going down, and I'm getting my girl back."
Warren stretched his wings and then looked at the others. "Let's get this over with."
Logan shook his head and muttered, "This is gonna be a hell of a ride."
Wade grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Hell? Nah, my friend, we're going to make it legendary. To the warehouse!"
And just like that, with the sun setting behind them, they were off—on their way to confront Mr. Smith and get one step closer to Ajax. With a SHIELD contact like Alvarez at their side, who knew what surprises lay ahead?
—
Deadpool slowed down just a little as the group approached the SUV, striding confidently like a hero in the middle of an action movie. He glanced sideways at the others, his lips curling into a wicked grin, before he paused dramatically and turned to the camera—well, you, the reader—ready for his signature fourth-wall-breaking monologue.
"Alright, before we dive into the absolute carnage that is about to unfold, let me drop some knowledge on you," Deadpool said, tapping the side of his head like he was about to spill some deep wisdom. "See, a lot of people think the secret to a great mission is the gear, the intel, the backup plans. And yes, those things do matter—just a little. But you wanna know the real key to success, the one thing that separates the amateurs from the pros?"
He leaned in closer, his voice going conspiratorial. "Background music."
Wade held up a finger, as if revealing a profound truth to the audience. "Oh, yeah. A good tune? It'll set the tone for the whole damn mission. Picture this: you're gearing up, walking into danger, maybe even sexy danger—but the music? It makes you feel like you're the badass who's about to drop the hottest mixtape since, well, since… 'X Gon' Give It To Ya' by DMX."
He paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But don't get me wrong, this isn't just some random playlist nonsense. It's gotta be the right song, the right vibe. A slow buildup isn't gonna cut it when you're storming the gates of a villain's lair. You need a beat that hits hard, something that screams, 'I'm here to kick ass, take names, and probably make some wisecracks along the way.'"
Deadpool spun around and started striding toward the car, his voice going back to a dramatic, more 'movie-trailer guy' tone. "Now, imagine this: we're walking to the car, about to dive into a warehouse, guns blazing, hearts pumping—and in the background? X Gon' Give It To Ya by the one and only DMX. A song so iconic that even your momma would want to put on a bulletproof vest and start running with us. Trust me."
Then, as if snapping back to reality, Deadpool shrugged. "But hey, you wouldn't know what I'm talking about because none of you can hear it. It's only playing in my head. But still, it's there. And it's pumping me up, people. PUMPING. ME. UP."
As Wade kept talking, the scene shifted to show the team in motion.
Deadpool, Logan, Warren, and Alvarez—all walking side by side, headed toward the black SUV parked just a few feet away. Their steps were in sync, the weight of the mission ahead hanging over them, but none of them noticed the invisible soundtrack weaving around them.
Then, as if on cue, the beat dropped—X Gon' Give It To Ya blasting like an anthem inside Deadpool's mind. The intro hit, that growling bass, the hard-hitting drums, the raw energy of DMX's voice pumping through his thoughts like he was on a Hollywood budget with a slow-mo action sequence to match.
"Uh, uh, uh, uh Yeah, you know what it is Yeah, you know what it is Black and yellow, black and yellow Yeah, uh-huh..."
Wade, of course, was living his best life, mentally rocking out to the beat as he strutted to the car, his katanas glinting like a set of deadly, well-tuned instruments of chaos. His fingers snapped in time to the music as he gave the team a cheeky grin.
Logan was not impressed. The old grump was focused, just nodding to himself. A few steps away, Warren, his wings folded neatly behind him, couldn't help but notice Wade's extra strut, his exaggerated movements. You couldn't miss Wade, even if you tried.
"Jesus, Wade. Can you not be... you?" Logan grumbled, half under his breath, still trying to figure out what exactly was going through Wade's head.
And yet, despite his best efforts, even Logan couldn't completely ignore the vibe in the air. The beat, thumping like a wild beast, even crept into his bones, urging him to go faster, harder, and with just a little more swagger than usual. But Logan wasn't about to admit that. Ever.
Warren looked at the others and then rolled his eyes, barely suppressing a chuckle. "I'm beginning to think this mission is going to be way more entertaining than I imagined."
The whole time, Alvarez? Well, he was trying to look so serious, and for good reason. He had a reputation to uphold. But even he couldn't stop the corner of his lips from twitching as Wade continued to strut ahead, obviously busting a move in his head.
"X gon' give it to ya He gon' give it to ya X gon' give it to ya He gon' give it to ya..."
Deadpool kept pacing, the lyrics still rolling around in his head, giving him just the right amount of juice to feel like he was in a real action flick. And damn, if it didn't feel good.
He turned his head towards the others, a broad, goofy grin plastered on his face as he walked. "Okay, okay, I know you all can't hear it, but trust me. This song? This is what makes the mission legendary. This is the kinda soundtrack that makes you wanna jump into a warehouse and start flipping tables, guns blazing, maybe yell a bit about justice and revenge, all while making sure you're looking like the hero we know you are."
Logan side-eyed him, unimpressed, but still moving with purpose. "Just don't get us killed with your music."
Warren shook his head, cracking a smile as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, just try not to start a dance-off mid-mission, okay?"
Deadpool spun dramatically on his heels, striking a pose like a Broadway star ready to drop the mic. "You think you can just tell me what to do? Ha! This is Deadpool in full action, baby. Get used to it. The music is already in my veins. I'm just here to drop some beats and some bodies, that's all."
The four of them finally reached the SUV, their last steps carrying them into the vehicle as the background music played on in Wade's head, filling his world with the beat of impending action. And as the doors slammed shut and the engine roared to life, Deadpool threw a dramatic arm over his seat, winking at the driver. "Let's do this. Time for Mr. Smith to meet Mr. Ass-Kicker."
And as the SUV pulled away, Wade's voice—just a little louder now—rang out in his mind:
"Uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah. We're about to drop a bomb on Madrid. X gon' give it to ya!"
Wade Wilson was ready—and the world? It was about to feel the power of a good, old-fashioned, music-filled, revenge-fueled ass-kicking.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Click the link below to join the conversation:
https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd
Can't wait to see you there!
If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:
https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007
Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s
Thank you for your support!