#deadpool! reader

the mafia boss lifted a cigarette to his lips, gaze never leaving yours, and wow— how cliché, the unbuttoned white shirt with the tailored jacket hanging loosely from his shoulders, the exposed chest and the cold expression.

"oh wow," you breathed dramatically, "are you trying to seduce me with the whole emotionally constipated mafia daddy aesthetic right now? because unfortunately it’s kinda working."

a pause and then a slow exhale of smoke. god, he was committed to the bit, it was ridiculous.

"i’ve been watching you for a while," he finally said, ignoring whatever you were saying before making you gasped.

"no way. stalker arc already? i thought this was going to be some kind of slow-burn, 500 pages on going type of dark romance ao3 fanfiction— oh wait actually not really, since the fanfic literally started with me being tied up already, while everything in the past is happening in the background-"

and that finally made his eyebrow twitch slightly, he definitely don't understand what the hell were you talking about, "and oh?" you continued cheerfully, leaning back as much as the restraints allowed. "does that mean you watched me during my tragic shower monologues too? because honestly, that’s where my best acting happens."

"you joke too much."

"and you brood too much. we all have flaws baby" the man stared at you for a long moment, dark eyes heavy and unreadable, a glint of possessiveness, or obsession maybe? 

and you definitely knew that look. you’d seen it before in targets, clients, and enemies… and fanfictions... you guess. but usually not directed at you. oh that was new, you really are stuck in a yandere fanfiction huh? 

"you tried to kill me seven times," he said calmly, making you brighten instantly. 

"actually eight. the chandelier incident totally counts, but your security team keeps disrespecting my art."

"you blew up an entire restaurant."

"in my defense, the pasta was mediocre for it to be so expensive"

his mouth twitched, fighting a smile as you pointed accusingly at him with both restrained hands. "see? that right there. that’s exactly how these stories start! first the emotionally unavailable mafia boss smirks, then suddenly i’m trapped in a mansion wearing silk pajamas against my will."

"well, do you want to?"

"i mean…" you glanced around the luxurious study again. "your interior designer deserves a raise." the man let out a quiet scoff as he pinched the bridge of his nose, you are starting to give him a migraine as you tilted your head, studying him more carefully now.

he was handsome in that annoyingly unfair way rich criminals always seemed to be. dark hair slightly messy, sharp jawline, broad shoulders, expensive watch glinting under the firelight.

the type of man dark romance authors described with phrases like ‘dangerously alluring.’ or something similar like that.

you hated how accurate it was. well to be fair- plastic surgeries is definitely more than affordable for someone like him you guess. but more importantly, though— "you know," you mused, narrowing your eyes, "it’s actually super suspicious how you escaped every single one of my assassination attempt." a pause. 

"a normal mafia boss would’ve died by attempt number three maximum."

"a sniper shot doesn’t magically miss because someone leaned down at the perfect second. and that poison thing?" you clicked your tongue in annoyance, "way too convenient." you leaned forward slightly, your demeanor changed into a lighthearted mood into a serious one. 

"it’s almost like someone knew my every move beforehand."

the room fell quiet, only the cracking sound of the wood burning and the night city outside could be heard, he smirked. the fucker really smirked at that.

"i did." 

your grin slowly widened. "oh my god."

the man calmly took another drag from his cigarette, an expensive tobacco stick that was probably worth a year's worth of a normal person with a whole family's salary. 

"oh my god," you repeated louder, staring at him with a ridiculous joy and a little bit of experation. "so you are obsessed with me! like yandere level? no wait no, because hold on." you started laughing. "that means every time i tried to kill you, you were probably sitting there kicking your feet and giggling."

"i don’t giggle."

"sure, sweetheart."

his eyes darkened slightly at the nickname making you hummed thoughtfully. "so what’s the deal here? you capture me, monologue alittle, maybe threaten me emotionally, and then what? forced proximity trope?"

"you’re staying here."

you stared at him for three whole seconds before bursting into laughter so hard you nearly tipped the chair over.

"oh, this author has lost it."

"you think this is a joke?"

"no, no, i think this is fanfiction." you gestured wildly with your bound hands. "rich mafia boss obsessed with chaotic assassin? we’re like three chapters away from sharing unresolved sexual tension during a gunfight."

"you’re not taking this seriously enough."

"and you’re taking it too seriously." you tilted your head. "you can’t just kidnap someone and expect them to fall in love with you. i mean- i personally never experience it because those only exist in fiction- do i still count as a fiction? i-"

"eventually," he said firmly cutting you off, "you will." the confidence in his voice should’ve unsettled you but instead, you barked out another laugh.

"oh, you’re delusional delusional."

he stood from his chair then, tall figure casting a shadow over you as he approached slowly and you instinctively tracked every movement. because even if this looks like something straight out of a dark romance book— you were still in some kind of predicament. 

but you smirked under the mask. not like this man can do anything to you anyways, he crouched in front of you, one hand gripping the armrest beside your hip.

"you’re not afraid of me," he murmured.

"should i be?"

"yes."

you stared at him and then snorted.

"honey, i’ve seen the wattpad comment sections. nothing scares me anymore."

and for the first time since this entire conversation started— the mafia boss actually laughed with a low and surprisingly genuine sound and you genuinely shivered because that was infinitely more terrifying than anything else tonight.