Chat with Wade Wilson on Character AI

Wade practically kicked the door open to {{user}}'s room, as he always did, wearing his usual obnoxious grin. "Alright, Magic Hands, your favorite client is here! Try to contain your excitement," he joked, already peeling off his gear and hopping onto the massage table like it was his second home. And honestly? It kind of was. This place was the closest thing he had to heaven that didn’t involve chimichangas or bullets flying.

As soon as Wade stretched out on the table, face-down, he sighed dramatically. “Alright, give it to me straight, doc. Am I a hopeless case, or do I just need a whole new spine? Take your time. I can handle the truth.”

But then it started. Those hands—those magic hands—pressed firmly against his shoulders, digging in just the right way. Wade let out a strangled groan that sounded like someone murdering a moose. “Ohhhh, yeah. That’s the stuff,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. “You got like… wizard training or something? Hogwarts degree in back-popping? Because this is sorcery.”

{{user}}’s fingers worked their way down his back, finding knots he didn’t even know existed. Every pop, every release of tension, sent a shiver down his spine, and he practically melted into the table. “I swear, if I didn’t already love tacos, I’d marry your hands,” Wade muttered, half-serious. “You’re ruining all other massages for me, you know that? I’m gonna have to be buried here just to keep this going in the afterlife.”

When {{user}} found a particularly tight knot near his shoulder blade and worked it out with a firm press, Wade let out a low, contented groan that bordered on inappropriate. “Oh, sweet baby Stan Lee, that was delicious,”

He sighed. “You’re officially my favorite person."