My Merc. (deadpool x reader)

?Chapter 12?

"Why didn't you say so?!" he exclaimed, throwing the covers off and scrambling out of bed. "Pancakes it is!"

As he rushed past you, you couldn't help but laugh. The morning gloom faded a little more, and you followed him to the kitchen, ready to tackle whatever the day had in store for you both.

You followed Wade into the kitchen, where he was already rummaging through the cabinets for pancake mix. The sight of him in his disheveled state—eyes still half-asleep—brought a smile to your face.

"Okay, chef extraordinaire," you said, leaning against the counter. "What's the secret ingredient today? Is it chocolate chips? Or are we going rogue with sprinkles?"

Wade paused, looking thoughtful, his finger tapping his chin. "Hmm, chocolate chips are classic, but I think we need to take it to the next level. How about... both?" He flashed you a mischievous grin.

"Living dangerously, I see," you teased, pulling the butter from the fridge. "Alright, then let's get this breakfast party started."

As you set to work, you grabbed a mixing bowl and started combining the ingredients while Wade danced around the kitchen, humming along to whatever song was stuck in his head. You couldn't help but laugh as he attempted to mimic a cooking show host, gesturing wildly with the spatula.

"Now, folks, you can't rush perfection! You need to mix until your arm feels like it's about to fall off," he declared, dramatically flinging pancake batter into the air before catching it in the bowl. "See? Perfectly normal pancake behavior!"

You shook your head, trying to suppress your laughter. "I don't think that's how it works, Wade. But I appreciate the enthusiasm."

After a few more moments of chaotic cooking, the first batch of pancakes was sizzling on the griddle. The delicious smell began to fill the kitchen, making your stomach rumble in anticipation.

"While we wait, we should probably come up with a plan to track down Francis," you said, trying to shift the conversation to something a little more serious. Wade flipped a pancake and turned to you with a mock-serious expression. "The pancake plan? I'm all in! Step one: make pancakes. Step two: consume pancakes. Step three: find Francis, but only if there are leftovers!"

You laughed again, but you knew he was just deflecting. "Wade, we can't keep letting him slip away. We need a real plan."

He paused for a moment, the playfulness fading from his expression. "You're right. I just— I don't want to think about it right now, you know?" He turned back to the griddle, focusing on the pancakes, as if they were the only thing that mattered at that moment.

You could feel the weight of everything in the air again, a familiar tension between you. "I get it. But if we want to have a future—if we want to keep doing this—then we have to face him. We can't let him control our lives."

Wade finally turned to you, the light from the window casting a warm glow on his face. "I know, but every time I think about it, I just see red. I don't want to lose my cool and screw it all up, you know?"

You stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "That's why we do it together. We've faced worse than Francis, and we've always come out on top. You and me, we make a good team."

He looked down for a moment, considering your words. Then, a grin broke through. "Alright, fine. After pancakes, we'll come up with a plan. But first, let's make sure we're properly fueled for whatever chaos is about to ensue."

You laughed, the mood lightening again as you flipped the last pancake onto the stack. Wade plated them, adding a generous dollop of whipped cream on top, along with chocolate chips and sprinkles.