My Merc. (deadpool x reader)

~Chapter 18~

He had his feet up on the coffee table, gesturing wildly with one hand as he recounted the chaos of the day like it was a bedtime story. "—and then she leapt into the air like a hot, terrifying dog missile and caught the whole glass tank in her mouth. Like a sexy Great Dane from Hell."

Blind Al didn't even flinch. She sat stiffly in her chair, knitting needles clicking like gunfire as she worked on what you assumed was another dangerously ugly scarf. "You left the damn ammo bag in a taxi again, didn't you?"

Wade paused, mouth open mid-sentence. "...Yes, but in my defense, I was distracted by hotness and trauma."

You flopped onto the couch beside him, your leg brushing against his as you stretched out, relaxed, toes curling into the soft rug. "You're lucky I was there," you said with a smug little smirk, "or Francis would still have his head."

Blind Al looked up at you both. "So, are you two gonna finally bang or keep dancing around it like a bad soap opera?"

Wade's head snapped toward her. "Excuse me, Al, but romance is an art. You can't just rush the sexy time. There's foreplay, tension, dramatic monologues, shirtless fights in the rain—"

"She already saw you strip through your suit, Wade," you interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "You cried. It was weird."

"I screamed in agony, not cried," he said defensively, poking your knee.

Al just sighed, setting down her knitting. "Well, when you two stop growling at each other long enough to get to the kissing part, keep it down. I want at least one night of sleep without hearing something feral coming from your room."

Wade raised a hand like he was making a vow. "No promises. She bit off a dude's head today. You think I'm the problem here?"

You snorted and leaned back into the couch, letting your head rest against Wade's bare shoulder. It was warm, familiar. Safe, somehow.

Blind Al stood up, hobbling toward her room with her usual muttered complaints and threats. "I'll be in my room. If I hear a howl, I'm calling animal control."

Once she was gone, the apartment quieted. The silence between you and Wade wasn't awkward. It was... almost nice.

He leaned his head down against yours and whispered, "So... how do you wanna celebrate the victory, hot stuff?"

Your eyes flicked to him, a smirk playing on your lips. "You said something about popcorn and dramatic reenactments earlier. I wanna see you pretend to be Colossus again."

Wade groaned playfully. "Ugh, fine. But only if you do Negasonic. That teenage rage? You pull it off so well."

~~~~~Time skip again, cause i donno how to bridge this '\(-_-)/'~~~~~

you were kinda confused on why Wade hadnt even kissed you yet, you wanted him, you needed him, but, he kept changing the subject. it had been a few days since the fight with Francis. there was a regular routine now, find contacts to kill, hang out with Weasel at the bar, explore the city, etc. 

what really confused you though, was the bridge thing never happened, the promise of sitting on the highway bridge, eating chimichangas and listening to music never happened, and you were worried, did you do something wrong? Did Wade change his mind about you? 

The night was thick with quiet when Wade shook you awake, fingers urgently nudging your shoulder through the blanket. "Wake up, we gotta go," he whispered, a rare edge of seriousness in his voice that cut through your half-conscious fog.