➳ Oh, Well Imagine Marvel➳ FINISHED

Talk•Deadpool

You weren't sure when exactly you met the flamboyant Dead Pool, or how you personally knew him, Wade Wilson.

He was something, alright. You couldn't count even with your fingers and toes how many times the workers of S.H.I.E.L.D have asked you how you managed to put up with him. He was reckless, loud, borderline delinquent at times. He was known for causing trouble yet somehow solving the problem at the same time.

He was the famous Merc with a Mouth, and you honestly wouldn't have him any other way.

You wouldn't dare tell anybody about your growing affections for the anti-hero, surely they'll gossip and the word will make its away around the building – heck, it might even find its way around New York. Seeing as you were a slightly well-known journalist, it'd be trouble to have the unwanted attention.

It was a fact that Wade must suspect something, seeing as his gaze would linger for a second too long. Over the years that you've known him(you ran across him during your senior year in high school), you knew that he wasn't the type to stick to one person for too long – especially for a lonely and slightly shy person such as yourself.

You accepted the fact that you weren't anything special, but at times you wished you were. Hell, at times it felt like you were worth something, and the way he made your heart flutter and cheeks grow warm was so amazing, it's simply unexplainable. As soon as he left, however, you were left staring in the mirror and wondering if your thoughts and actions were really worth it.

A gentle pressure nudged you sideways slightly, "Aye, darling. What's on your mind?"

You shook your head and fixated your gaze upon the masked man, who sat beside you on the top of one of New York's skyscrapers. Normally, you would have been scared shitless. But not with him. "Nothing, I'm just thinking of a possible article."

The muscles in his cheeks worked into a smirk that was clearly visible from underneath the mask, "The Times, eh? You should write about the .. the.. Oh! The cultures of NYC!" He expanded his arm out in a comical fashion, gesturing out to the buzzing city that sat underneath the darkening night sky.

"The Cultures of NYC," You laughed. "Where'd you get that?"

His other arm slung around your shoulders loosely, but it was still enough to draw you closer to him. "You'd include chimichangas, of course! Ooh – Tacos, too! Aren't there lots of latina type peeps here?"

"I'm sure there's more than Latina," Your eyes sparkled at the very thought of pleasing the public. "But you're right! I'll expand the cultures and drop those stupid stereotypes!"

Wade fell silent, which was odd because that was a characteristic he never had. He gaze lingered on the horizon, eying where the sun licked the very edges of the atmosphere and disappeared behind the other half of the earth.

You relaxed underneath the weight of his arm that still hung loosely around your neck, taking in the scent of gunpowder and some other odd scents you couldn't pin point.

The two of you did this often – sat on the top of a building and talked. You didn't actually have a working schedule, so he only left to go home when it was necessary. Tonight, he had gotten back from a mission and went straight to your apartment. Neither of you brought snacks like you usually did, but it didn't seem to bother him.

Your eyes fluttered shut, relishing his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Seeing as he was significantly bigger than you were, the way he encased you made you feel like you were in a cocoon. Resisting the urge to bury yourself deeper into his side, you opened your eyes and looked up at him.

"I think I wanna marry somebody one day." He spoke suddenly, and your heart sunk.

"She'll be a lucky lady." You half forced a smile. Although you envied his partners, you still wished for them to be happy.

"Any lady worthy of my presence is a lucky lady." He snickered, his shoulders bouncing in the short burst of laughter. "But I think I know the person I wanna marry."

"Why do I feel like it's Storm?"

"It was a one time thing, gosh. Even I got over that!" His response made you laugh, one that was clearly discouraged and empty. He chose to ignore it.

"Either way, she'd be good for you. What about that Death girl? I keep forgetting – Is it just Death?" Your eyebrows furrowed, seemingly trying to remember her name. Of course, you knew it. You were just making conversation and trying not to seem hopelessly in love with the mercenary who probably looked at you as simply an old friend.

"Nah," He shook his head. Within a hidden pocket in his suit, his cellphone beeped. He answered, "Petey! Sup?"

You tuned out the call, focusing on the inner turmoil that made your stomach do back flips. Sometimes, you wish you could tell him. You wished you could show him. Maybe one day, you'll gather the courage.

Maybe now.

You heard him shuffle, chucking an empty beer can off the edge of the building before standing. You looked up at him. "Sorry, [Y/N]. Apparently some mafia leader is on the hunt tonight, and I gotta help. See you tomorrow, okay?"

A smile ghosted over your lips as you stood beside him. "That's alright. I'll see you for lunch, maybe?"

He nodded in agreement, flashing you a quick smile. You turned towards the door that led to the stairs, while he crouched on the edge of the building, about to pounce. A gut wrenching pain seared from your chest to your stomach. Maybe now.

Your heart pounded, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You turned quickly, to see him jump off the ledge. Your legs moved, running towards where he once was and gripped the steel railing that prevented you from falling over the edge.

His red suit was seen, searing through the air and towards the concrete sidewalk. Your hands cupped around your mouth as you screamed as loud as you could, a simple phrase.

Just as his feet hit the ground, with a bit of pain due to the impact on his knees, Wade heard a faint "I LOVE YOU!" that traveled with the wind, and he smiled.

"Love you too."