Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 3

Close Your Eyes (Deadpool x reader)

I haven't done one for this series in a while, and Deadpool was requested...so yeah, angst warning.  

Following "Hired Help" in Book 2:  https://www.wattpad.com/395334112-imagine-if-you-assembled-the-avengers-volume-2

After the ridiculous meeting with Deadpool that had left you breaking and entering into the Avengers tower, where you met the equally ridiculous Hawkeye, you were coerced into working with the red-leather-clad mercenary on a few side jobs when he needed an extra set of hands, or just someone to appreciate his wit on a particularly good day. It began with a random job here and there, maybe once every few months; but then it became once a month, then once a week, and now you were seeing each other nearly every day. Despite the frequent interactions, however, you never spoke to each other about anything other than work and throwing the regular insults and sarcastic quips back and forth while getting your work done. You didn't want to know any more about the guy than absolutely necessary, and the sentiment seemed to be readily shared.

It wasn't for lack of trying in those first few weeks, however; he just wasn't as talkative as you had expected, but then again, neither were you. Scratch that; he talked incessantly, but about absolutely nothing. You liked him well enough, and you got along far too easily, but that was the extent of your partnership; it was work. At least that's what you both had thought, right up until the moment when it wasn't. Right up until the moment that Wade found himself uncharacteristically mute, staring at your eerily still form beneath faded and scratchy linens that smelled of sterility and hopelessness.

There's nothing we can do.

"That's bullshit," Wade scoffed softly under his breath, sitting otherwise numb at your hospital bedside, "there's always something. Until Infinity War came out, the good guys always made it to the end of the story one way or another. There's always a last-minute save because Marvel is a bunch of pussies. Just you watch, they weren't dusted...they just didn't moisturize and it was...windy..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson, I wish I had better news." The doctor in the bland white coat that really needed a good bleaching turned away with his beady little eyes cast to the ground, his nervous hands wringing together out of...what? Fear? Fear of what this unmasked vigilante might do to him when he fully turned away. He was nothing of consequence, and he flashed through Wade's mind like a fleeting thought. He had given up, so he no longer mattered in any business that involved you. Wade wanted him nowhere near you now.

"I'll call Stark," Wade nodded to himself, once finding that he was alone in your room. "That guy can fix anything from what I've heard." He paused and reached out to take your limp hand, pulling back with fearful hesitation at the sensation he was about to have when you didn't respond to him. Taking a long breath, he steeled his resolve and grabbed your hand and held it in both of his, crushing it to his chest as he watched for any sign that you might come back to him. "I know that Stark and his Who's-Your-Daddy club aren't my biggest fans," he continued, "but I don't give a shit. If any of them can undo what I've done, then I'll crawl up to their doorstep and beg each and every one of them until they listen to me. They can turn their backs on me, (Y/N), but I won't let them turn their backs on you. This was my fault, and I'm gonna do whatever I've gotta do to un-fuck my fuck up."

~~~

"Alright, listen up close, here's the plan," Deadpool said quietly, the two of you peeking out from around a building and into a dark alley, waiting for your target to appear, "when you see that little pussy grabber come out of the theater, you take the east side of the building and I'll take the west. Whoever gets their hands on his perverted little micro-penis bearing carcass takes his face to the pavement, exfoliation style, you got it?"