Superhero It Is, Then
Skye/Deadpool
"Coulson! Why have I not been invited to join your Fun Squad? I'm bored!"
"Oh, no," Coulson groaned as the loud voice echoed through the Playground. He got up from his desk and hurried to the door. "Please tell me that's not who I think it is…"
Trip and Hunter came rushing around the corner, both with guns out. "Who the fuck is that? Who's in here?" Hunter snapped. Skye came out of her office and he reached to push her back in, but she ducked under his arm, showing the ICER gun in her hand.
"What's the word, AC?" she asked.
"I'm fairly sure I know who that is and he is trouble with a capital T. Mr Wilson! Show yourself!" Coulson said loudly.
"Sam Wilson, the Falcon?" Trip asked.
"Definitely not…"
A man dropped from the ceiling. Costumed in a dark red and black skinsuit, he matched Trip in height and muscle. His hands were empty, but the hilts of two long swords stuck up over his shoulders.
"Stand down!" Coulson yelled. Trip and Hunter managed to steady themselves, but Skye, younger and jumpier than the two more experienced agents, pulled the trigger.
Oh well, it's only an ICER… she didn't even have time to complete the thought when there was a blur of steel, and blue liquid splattered against the wall.
"What. The. Fuck," Hunter spoke into the silence as they stared at the masked stranger, who now held a katana in one gloved hand.
And who had apparently drawn the sword and sliced the ICER roundin halfin mid-air.
"That wasn't very nice, if you weren't so beautiful I might not be inclined to forgive you," the stranger told Skye cheerfully.
Skye was so shocked she pulled the trigger again.
"Well, really!" Another flash of steel, another splatter of blue on the wall.
"Skye!" Coulson wrested the gun from her grip. "Stop trying to shoot him! Trip, Hunter, Skye, this is Wade Wilson."
"Call me Deadpool," he sheathed the katana with a flourish. "Lovely to meet you. I hear you've been having fun, Coulson, and hiring mercs," a gloved hand pointed at Hunter, "why wasn't I invited?"
"Because you're a pain in the ass," Coulson responded blithely.
"Well obviously but I know for a fact, because I know lots of shit I'm not supposed to, that you've been going up against, let's call them, oh, super-villains. Because that's fun. And since your whole crew appear to be straight humans, even the Cavalry, despite what some people say about her, you need someone like me on your side."
Skye tugged urgently at Coulson's sleeve. "I need to speak to you right the fuck now," she hissed.
"One moment. Don't break anything or hurt anyone." Coulson pointed a warning finger at Deadpool. Who held his hands up innocently and started whistling Patience by Guns 'n' Roses.
"What?" Coulson demanded as Skye shut his office door behind them. She was trembling.
"Soulmate," was all she could get out. "Words. His words. On my ass."
"Oh, no."
"Really?" said a startled voice outside the door.
"Super-hearing?" Skye winced.
"Apparently."
"Shit."
"Say it!" Deadpool opened the door and stared down at Skye, practically bouncing on his toes. "Say it, say the thing!"
"I really didn't want a superhero for a soulmate!" was all she could think of.
"AWESOME!" he snatched her off her feet and spun her round merrily. "Because I'm not one! And you're really hot. I'm ever so grateful," he added, turning to address apparently no-one on the other side of Coulson's desk. "Thanks!"
"You're certainly built," Skye struggled to escape his extremely muscular arms, "but would you mind very much showing me what you actually look like?"
"I'll just, uh, leave you two to get acquainted," Coulson fled. Where's my Scotch? He needed to get very, very drunk. Skye and Deadpool. Dear God.
"Sure!" Deadpool set Skye down, reached up and peeled off his red and black mask.
"Oh."
She'd always thought that the guys who fully masked their face probably did so because they were horribly scarred or something. This guy – was not scarred. He was extremely good-looking, with cropped blond hair, a straight nose, hazel eyes with intriguing glints of gold in them, and straight white teeth in a wide grin.
"Am I cute enough for you? Because really, you are seriously beautiful. Amazingly exotic eyes and I love your hair." One gloved finger raised to touch a lock which was dangling over her shoulder, and then moved away almost shyly.
"Do you always talk this much?" Skye couldn't help but grin.
"Often more! But you're so pretty you drive all the words right out of my head."
"Apparently not!"
"Sorry, I'll shut up. Are my words really on your ass?"
He'd shut up for all of three seconds before blurting out the question.
"Yes they are, and no, I'm not going to show you!"
"That's a shame, I'd planned to offer to reciprocate."
"My words are on your ass too?"
"Oh, no," his grin was absolutely wicked. "They're somewhere a lot more intimate." He placed a hand over his groin. Drawing Skye's eyes down to the more-than-generous bulge there.
"No," she blushed. "They're not..?"
"Like I said, show me yours and I'll show you mine…"
She held him off for two whole weeks before showing him the loopy spiral of words on her left ass cheek. As promised, he reciprocated.
"You're why I became a merc," he told her cheerfully, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. "Since you didn't want a superhero for a soulmate and I didn't want to be a supervillain. Figured I'd play both sides until you made your mind up."
Her words were only completely visible once he was fully aroused. As he was now. Skye looked up at him, her eyes wide.
"Well – I believe I'm on the side of the good guys."
"Superhero it is, then!"
997 words.
Mostly dialogue because Deadpool is, of course, the Merc With A Mouth.
And yes, Skye's words are indeed on Wade's dick. Because I have a terrible sense of humour.
Next up, Jemma and Bucky, which actually has a ship name I know – WinterScientist!
(Skye + Deadpool = DeadSkye or SkyePool?)