(A/N: Sorry I missed a day; I was sick. Also, for the reviewers that wanted more insight on Ivy and her powers; this is a short story. I wasn't really going to get into that in this particular piece, I was low key saving that for, if there is going to be, the next installment of Ivy and Wade. But I don't know. What would you all like? This story is all but written. So keep that in mind, I'll go back and edit if you want me to. But this is staying eight chapters.)
"I'm telling you, Scar. The guy's a mess." A catsuit-clad Ivy muttered into her phone headset. She was currently laying on the roof of an apartment building, looking through a scope and into Wade Wilson's apartment.
It was night time, approximately 0100 and Agent Peterson was probably asleep in the car. Earlier that day, Ivy had followed Wilson all over the city, trying to convince him to join her organization. Like the numerous days before, he had laughed in her face and declined. Now, the copperette had resorted to plan D, which was to catch Wilson doing something embarrassing so she could use it against him. Yes it was low aim, but she really had nothing else to do. It's not like Maria gave her instructions and a manual on how to recruit a demented mercenary.
This task is the hardest mission the brown-eyed woman had ever been given, and she has taken down HYDRA bases with self-destruct switches. But even avoiding explosives wasn't as difficult as dealing with Wade Wilson. The man was a terror. Ivy could not even fathom how skilled he was at fighting when he acted the way he did. He was like the human embodiment of fart jokes and bad puns. A hot human embodiment of fart jokes and bad puns, with a tight butt and even tighter abs.
But that was neither here nor there.
Ivy's attention returned to her phone call. "I am sure he is not that bad, little plant." The telepath Maximoff replied to her hazel-skinned friend.
"That bad?" Ivy snorted, inspecting the apartment. "He's worse! Words can not begin to describe how...him he is."
Wanda chuckled into the phone, "What does he look like?"
"Ugh!" The copperette groaned into the phone, "That's the worse part! He never takes his stupid suit off, but it's skin tight and leaves nothing to the imagination." The young agent sighed at the thought, "He has the nicest ass I've ever seen. And his dick ain't nothing to laugh at either."
"You've seen it?" The Sokovian woman tsked, "That was quick even for you, plant."
"I haven't seen it per se…" Ivy trailed off, watching the old woman, whose name she learned was Althea, limp through the apartment. "But it's been against me a few times."
Wanda tsked once more, "So you are attracted to this mercenary?"
"Physically I guess, but you know me Scar," The copperette muttered, "I'd be attracted to a soda can if it had a nice butt."
"Ivy," The telepath started in a motherly tone, "You seem to be changing the subject. You like this 'Pool', yes?"
"NO." Ivy answered sternly, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance. "Absolutely not."
"You said that about my brother…" Wanda trailed, and the copperette could just see the smirk on her friend's face.
Ivy scowled, watching as Old Althea tried to put a bookshelf together, despite the fact that she was blind. What an odd pair of people. "Pietro was different, Wanda! I actually liked him."
"But you would not admit it, plant. I had to scope your mind just to get you to acknowledge the attraction." The telepath mused, making Ivy snicker.
"Which is why you saw some shit you weren't ready to see…" The copperette woman remembered fondly.
When Ivy had first been recruited into the program, she and Pietro didn't get along. The older Maximoff would always tease her; he even nicknamed her 'porosenok', which meant pig in Russian. Wanda, of course, saw right through the insults and assaults and made it her mission to get the two of them together. What she didn't know was that Pietro and Ivy were already secretly fucking. In the younger, oblivious Maximoff's quest, she read Ivy's mind and accidently saw the then brunette and her silver-haired brother fucking in an elevator. From then on, Ivy teased her friend about it, and though the two aren't together anymore, that memory always cracks them up.
"I wish I could wipe my own memory." Wanda groaned and Ivy imagined she was pouting. "Why are you so determined to recruit this spandex man?"
Ivy had to stop herself from jumping off the roof and rushing into the apartment when she saw Old Althea trip. The old woman reminded her of what she thought her own grandmother would be like: surly and offensive. Clearing her throat, she spoke lowly, "I'm pretty sure I'm not suppose to say anything, but Maria said she'd make me an Avenger if I recruited this guy." Ivy got more and more excited with every word, "We could work together every day! It'd be like training except I wouldn't disappear every ten minutes to suck your brother off in the supply closet."
"Otvratitel'no." Wanda muttered before speaking up, "That would be fun, plant. You should really work harder; how difficult can it be to recruit one person?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Scar! He just doesn't want to join!" The copperette whined, checking her watch; it was now 0145.
"Why don't you just make him?" The telepath inquired, "Remember our meditation techniques to strengthen your mental abilities? Or does is this mercenary able to resist your pull like me?"
Ivy sighed, "He can't but you know how I feel about that Wanda. I don't use my power to force people into big decisions. That would be wrong and immoral. You know, bad karma and all that."
"You are too soft." The youngest Maximoff cooed, "Too pure for this world of espionage, sapling."
"You should have seen me a few years back." The copperette laughed in response before her eye caught a glimpse of black and red. "Shit. I gotta go Scar. Noch'."
"Dobroy nochi, little planti." Wanda replied and Ivy hung up the phone.
The catsuited agent watched through her scope as Wilson walked through the living room in a pair of blue crocs with a pink bag on his shoulder. He said a few words to Old Althea before walking into his bedroom. Ivy moved the scope to his bedroom window and watched as he set the pink bag down on the table in his room. He then proceeded to unload several weapons onto the table, his mask moving against his face as he talked to himself. The spandex-covered mercenary stretched his arms above his head and walked over to the map on his wall, adding another red line to it. After nodding his head, the man-child then flopped on his twin-sized bed and laid back, his hands behind his head. After a moment, he reached for the stuffed unicorn on nightstand and held it to his face, before rolling around the bed with it, most likely cackling.
"This fucking guy…" Ivy muttered, rolling her eyes. She returned her gaze to the scope and saw that Wilson had put the unicorn down and was now reaching in his nightstand for something else. It was a piece of paper, but Ivy could not see what was on it. The masked man held the picture in his right hand as he sat on the side of the bed, with his left hand under him. Just as the copperette's brown eyes widened in realization, Wilson pulled down his pants just enough to expose his prick and lotioned up his left hand.
Ivy hurriedly put the scope down and put her hand over her mouth. "Oh my God…" She muttered over and over again. She ran a hazelnut hand through her curls and bit her lip. Her ethics were at war with her want. Should she…?
When Ivy's bottom lip was completely red from her indecisiveness, she looked through the lense of the scope once more. The erotic sight that greeted her made her let out a moan.
Wilson's left hand was gripping at his cock, jerking it with quick strokes. His right hand was gripping the bedspread in a tight fist and the paper that he pulled out was beside him. He was sitting up with his head rolled back, his abdomen tight with tension. After a moment, his head rolled over to glance at the paper and his pace quickened.
Ivy imagined the sounds he was making and let out a few of her own, clenching her thighs together. She tucked her hair behind her ear and licked her lips, watching as Wilson's head rolled back once again. He slowed down his hand and began to move very slowly over his member, rubbing his thumb over its head. Ivy could see him physically shiver with the movement and hunch over.
After a moment, he started to increase his pace once more, his head now up. He held up the crumpled paper in front of his face with his right hand, and gazed at it as his body started to tense up. He put the paper down by his cock and speed up his strokes. His threw his head back as he came, seemingly shaking with the force of it. Streams of white cum sputtered onto the paper, and as he came down from his high, he gazed at it. The copperette watched as Wilson got up from his bed and hobbled to the window, his penis still out, and waved in her direction.
Ivy's eyes widened and she looked away from the scope, trying to make herself flatter against the rooftop. After a few moments of quiet, the brown-eyed girl looked through the scope again, only to see that the masked man was gone. "Shit!" She exclaimed quietly, "Shit, shit, shit!" The young agent abandoned her scope and stood up, taking her gun out.
Her eyes searched the rooftop, but the only light that illuminated the roof belonged to the moon. She found her way to the door of the rooftop and stood against the wall beside it, waiting for the merc to come through it. Ivy knew that Wilson wouldn't, well couldn't, hurt her, but the guy was a loose canon who almost got her killed yesterday; the copperette wasn't taking any chances.
Ivy controlled her breathing and tried to listen for any kind of human sound, but she couldn't hear anything. It seemed like the crickets were screaming that night because that was the only sound she heard. She held her gun with two hands, the safety clicked off and in front of her face, just as Natasha taught her. Her skin was tingling with anticipation and a taste of something else, but she didn't want to think about that when she had a gun in her hand…
Out of the dark of the night, a gloved hand grabbed Ivy's arm, knocking the gun to the ground. The agent's other arm raised and swung wildly into the night and the figure grabbed her other arm, pressing her front against the roof door. The figure's front pressed against Ivy's back and she recognized it immediately.
"Hi Vee," The mercenary breathed into her hair, "Enjoy the show?"
The hazel-skinned woman tried to turn around to face him but Wilson strong armed her, pressing her tighter against the door. "Let me go, Wilson." She demanded, but the command was empty because of her lack of mental focus.
"Why didn't you come join me?" Deadpool inquired, nuzzling into her neck. "Especially with this catsuit number on." He followed the comment with a mewl. The mercenary loosened his grip, allowing her to turn around.
Ivy glared at the spandex-covered man, making a motion to move away from him. The masked-man had over plans; he roughly pushed her against the roof door, pressing his body to hers. "We gotta stop meeting like this, gorgeous." He rasped, his face right above hers. The catsuited woman could barely see in front of her so she glared in his general direction.
"You knew what really got me going?" Deadpool asked, letting the question hang in the air. "Knowing that you were on this roof watching me." He breathed, inhaling her scent. "I bet you're so wet right now, just for me right Vee?"
"Shut up." The copperette uttered weakly, her eyes fluttering closed.
"Are you going to let me touch you?" The mercenary inquired, and Ivy shook her head in response, not trusting her words. "Alright, I'll just keep fucking with you then. You wanna know what was on that piece of paper?" He waited a moment before whispering, "A picture of you. A picture I took of you on your first night here." The agent froze and Deadpool chuckled lowly. "You're biting that pretty plump lip with one hand on your tit and the other in your pussy. Ugh, I remember how you moaned my name…"
"Shut up." Ivy repeated, her voice strained and her jaw clenched. She tried to close her legs but Wilson put his knee between them, making her let out a shuddered breath as he made contact with her clothed center. She tried to push him away from her, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head.
"You're so pretty Vee." Deadpool cooed before whining, "Why won't you let me touch you?" Ivy didn't reply, and he rubbed his knee against her. "What? Cat got your tongue? Let me see!" He reached a gloved hand to her lips and opened her mouth with his thumb. "Nope, it's still there." He slowly inserted his thumb in her mouth and Ivy tasted him on his appendage. "Suck, pretty girl."
The hazel-skinned woman forgot where she was and obeyed, looking out into the darkness as she ran her tongue over it. She felt the mercenary shiver and he took his thumb out of her mouth, running it over her exposed skin, stopping right where the zipper of her suit started. Through his mask, Wilson blew cool air over the saliva, making Ivy inhale sharply.
The moment was cut short by Agent Peterson's voice in the agent's ear. "Agent Black? Is everything alright? Did you spot the subject?"
"Yeah." Ivy replied breathlessly before clearing her throat, "Yes. Affirmative. Everything's fine."
"Well can we cut this night short? I got a skype date with my wife."
Ivy clicked her teeth, "You've been in the car this whole time! Why didn't you call your wife then?"
"...Look can we just go to the hotel?"
The copperette was about to respond when the sound of her suit zipper going down made her freeze. Deadpool dropped her hands and she felt his gloved-hands exploring the newly exposed skin. "I'm busy Peterson…"
"Ivy," The older agent whined, "Please? You owe me."
"Um, um…" The younger agent tried to articulate a response, but the mercenary had found his way to her nipples and was pinching at them with, what she imagined, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Okay! Fine. Yes. I'm coming...down. Now." She glared into the darkness and pushed Wilson's hands away from her chest. "Damn it, Wilson off!" She exclaimed, now back to her senses. The agent tried to ignore the sensitivity of her nipples as she zipped her suit back up. She went to collect her scope but was pulled back by her arm.
"This isn't over Vee." Deadpool vowed sharply, letting her arm go.
Ivy scoffed and rolled her eyes, though her face was flushed. She swallowed thickly and packed her scope into a duffel bag, jumping when she felt a sharp pat on her ass. She stood up and spun around, ready to ream into the mercenary, but he was gone. "Idiot…" She mumbled, making her way off the roof.