My Merc. (deadpool x reader)

♥Chapter 4♥

You and Wade sat in your usual corner at Sister Margaret's, Weasel eyeing both of you with confusion while Wade paced back and forth, his agitation palpable. You leaned back in your chair, feet propped on the table, a beer in hand, casually watching the scene unfold. You hadn't quite figured out what new powers had emerged after the explosion, but at this point, you didn't care. The only thing on your mind was Francis—and making him pay for everything he'd put you both through."So, let me get this straight," Weasel began, clearly baffled. "You two aren't dead... but you should be?" He stared at Wade's heavily scarred face, eyes wide with disbelief.Wade, already in a foul mood, shot him a glare. "Yes, Weasel, we should be dead. But we're not. Hooray for us."Weasel grimaced at Wade's appearance, leaning in for a closer look. "Jesus, Wade, you look like an avocado fucked a much older avocado... and it was hate sex. Like, they had unresolved marriage issues and that was the only solution besides violence." Both you and Wade shot Weasel identical disapproving looks, but you couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of your mouth.You took another swig of your beer before cutting through the banter. "We need to find Francis... and we need to kill him."Wade stopped pacing and nodded in agreement, his expression darkening. "Oh, I'm not just going to kill him. I'm going to shoot him in the head and then fuck the brain hole."Both you and Weasel recoiled at the mental image, exchanging a cringe before moving on. "Anyway," you continued, trying to steer the conversation back on track, "if we want to kill Francis, we need to stay low for now. We need to figure out how to find him without tipping him off that we're still alive. If he finds out we're after him, it's going to be a lot harder."Wade paused, considering your words, his brow furrowed in thought. "We need suits," he finally said.Weasel snorted, chiming in. "Yeah, you definitely need something to cover that hideous face of yours, Wade. I'm having a fucking hard time looking at you right now."Wade rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He was already thinking ahead, planning the next steps. Whatever happened next, you were ready to follow through. The hunt for Francis was on.

Wade paced back and forth in the dingy motel room, rattling off potential names for himself as a hero. "Wade the Awesome... no, no, that's terrible." You sat back, half-listening, as he brainstormed increasingly ridiculous names, each one worse than the last. Then, all three of you glanced up at the blackboard hanging on the wall. Written in bold chalk letters: "The Deadpool." Wade's eyes lit up as he grinned, finally settling on his name."I will be Deadpool... Captain Deadpool... wait, no—just Deadpool, yeah," he declared triumphantly, already feeling out the moniker as if it had always been meant for him.Meanwhile, you both were still laying low at a crappy motel, the kind of place where the wallpaper was peeling and the smell of mildew was almost overwhelming. The centerpiece of your room was the search board Wade had meticulously put together. Pictures of Francis were pinned up, the one in the middle held by a knife buried deep into the corkboard, red yarn connecting all the potential leads like a chaotic spider web of revenge.You stood next to Wade, both of you staring at the clutter of images and plans. "Let's find this fucktard," you said, determination lacing your voice. "And after that, we can eat chimichangas on the highway while listening to 'Careless Whisper' by George Michael."Wade grinned at you, the two of you locked in on your goal—nothing would stand in the way of getting your revenge.