The psychopath next door (DeadpoolXReader)

My hero...?

Just as he predicted, the window shatters, with a rather earsplitting assortment of sounds. A familiar, lanky but muscular figure, clad in red and blue, crashes in. He lands with a thud, rolling and jumping to his feet effortlessly, his entire body tense and ready to kick some ass- although, as he spots your captor, he does momentarily freeze in a way that implies he is afraid, but he quickly returns to a bit more of an aggressive stance.
This all happens in a matter of seconds, startling you. Quickly, you jump to your feet, standing behind Deadpool, damn near as tense as Peter is.
"Pe-" as you begin to call out, you stop yourself from revealing his identity. That would be rather stupid, now wouldn't it."Spider-Man?!"
Peter nods at you, both a reassurance of your safety, and a thank you, for correcting the way you refer to him. The last thing he needs is a psycho knowing his identity.
He then brushes some shattered glass off of his board shoulders, looking to Deadpool, in what you can only imagine as a look of rage.
Before you or Peter can even begin to figure out what exactly is happening, or why, or how to solve it, Deadpool spontaneously whips around and harshly grabs you by your hair, jerking you towards him so your back is pressed to his muscular chest. You whimper a bit at the stinging sensation in your scalp, but quickly stop yourself, in favor of remaining stoic.
Now, his arm is clamped firmly around your neck before you can move, the barrel of his pistol pressed to your temple. You don't realize the pistol is there at first, and attempt to jerk away from him- and then he digs it a bit further into your head. You can sure as hell feel it now. You freeze, an unintelligible, fearful sound caught in your throat.
Peter, or Spider-Man, stands in front of you, still collecting himself and registering the... Interesting scene currently being displayed before him.
"(y/n), are you okay?" He asks, breathlessly. You can imagine the terror on his face- from the moment he became Spider-Man, he kept trying to ditch you for your own safety, and he is constantly terrified of you getting hurt because of him. This is more or less his worst nightmare come alive. And it's even worse, because it's the heavily armed jackass who has a habit of fucking up Spidey's assignments once every couple of months.
"Yeah, just peachy. you know, being held hostage and all..." You joke, to his rather pointless question, a raspy chuckle escaping your throat. it doesn't sound remotely humorous or even sarcastic- just kind of dead inside. Honestly, it's how you feel. Although, despite the circumstances, you decide to keep being a smartass. It's your specialty, after all, and you're not going to give anyone the satisfaction of not having to deal with your sarcastic bullshit, especially assholes like the one who has a fucking gun aimed at you, fully well prepared to blow your brains out. 
Deadpool snorts at your comment.
"Care to let her go?" Peter asks, finally speaking towards Deadpool, and crosses his arms. He is surprisingly calm now, or is at least acting like it. He's good at that- after all, he has to lie and rapidly adapt to shitty and agitating situations for a living, both in and out of the Spidey gig.
"Nah." Deadpool replies simply, with a shrug, grinning beneath his mask.
"Wade... Please, I don't want to fight you right now." Peter groans, but he still clenches his hands into fists, releasing them again and taking a small step forward, indicating that he will still fight if forced to do so.
'Wade? Interesting name.' You think, momentarily forgetting the situation at hand. But, Deadpool, or Wade, or the psycho, any of the three works, takes a deep breath, expressing mock concern towards Peter.
"Yeah... Because you know I'll kick your ass!" Wade laughs.
"Look, let her go, we can settle this without getting other people involved." Somehow, whenever Deadpool gets involved, Peter ends up begging for someone's life. Or an entire building full of people. Depends on the situation and how many explosives are involved.
"Well, where's the fun in that?"
Peter pauses for a moment, thinking over his options. He's eyeing the excessive amount of weapons, the heavily armed man in front of him, the pistol trained on your head, and how clearly fucked the both of you are. Finally, after what feels like forever, he groans inwardly, momentarily giving in to the situation. "Okay, what do you want, you psychotic idiot?" He's sure it won't be anything good, or anything he can even consider complying with, as per usual.
"I want your suit." He says, to everyone's astonishment. Peter is especially shocked- no ransom, no top secret info- just a bunch of spandex? Really?
Your jaw drops, and if you could see Peter's face, you're sure he'd have the same look of shock and confusion.
"You-You-" Peter stutters. "You're kidding me?"
"Nope." Wade chuckles. "Very much not kidding."
"What the fuck?" You grumble, slouching a bit. This is, by far, the most bizarre scenario you've ever been in. He kidnapped you, threatened you, and actually hurt you quite a bit, just because he's a fucking SpiderMan fanboy?
"Why, exactly?" After a moment of staring at Wade, trying to determine if he's actually serious, Peter crosses his arms, cocking his head curiously.
"I got an... Offer. I get the buyer your suit, bam, I'm rich." As he speaks, he makes a 'bam' sort of gesture with the hand holding the gun, both you and Spidey cringing at his careless movements, which could easily result in your brain matter accidentally ending up on the walls.
"Who would even want my suit that badly?" Peter inquires, still confused, and mildly doubtful. Really, a suit was a rather... Mundane request, for this weirdo.
"No idea." Wade says, shrugging. "I think he said something about his son being a fan or something."
"Hm." Peter mumbles. "This is a first..." He's dealt with the whole "fanboy" issue, but not "fanboy who hires a mercenary to steal my getup" sort of thing.
"Yeah, weird. Just strip, okay?" You can feel Wade smirking again, rather creepily this time, and he's silently laughing.
"Wade, seriously, shut up." Peter uncrosses his arms. "I can't give you my suit to give to some random guy. My DNA is all over this!"
"What, is it your fucking cum rag?" Wade jokes, laughing at his own, rather perverted, humor. "I know... Good one." He says to himself.
"Very funny. So mature." Peter appears to be giving in to the bullshit, childish argument that the manchild with the weapons has started.
"Hey, assholes!" You wave your arms a bit, and Wade tightens the arm around your throat. "Uh, you know, I've got a gun to my head! Can we solve this, talk later?" You look pleadingly at Peter, who nods again.
"Ah- yeah, could you let her go?" He asks, for the second time now. He knows that it's probably pointless asking, but he ought to do something.
"Once again, I need the suit."
"Once again, you're not getting the suit."
They honestly sound like a bunch of bitchy toddlers. It's getting on your nerves.
Wade sighs. "Man, I didn't want to have to do this... Your girlfriend here is really rather... Cute." His voice completely changes again- from lighthearted to sadistic. You shudder as he travels down the side of your neck, the barrel of his gun brushing lightly against your skin.
"She's not my girlfriend..." Peter mumbles under his breath, rather immaturely, considering the situation..
"Whatever. Either way, now I've gotta decide..." He takes his arm off of your neck, but you don't run- he's still got a pistol trained on your head. With his free arm, he grabs a katana from the sheath on his back, swinging it around so the sharp edge is pressed against your neck. He then slowly moves it down, brushing it against your stomach, and then your thighs, then back up again, pausing with it right up against your gut.
"What should I cut off first?" He laughs sadistically.
"Wade-" Peter tenses up, taking a step forward, only to be met with Wade cocking his gun and pressing it into your shoulder. Peter freezes. "Wade, you don't kill innocent people. I know you."
"Yes, I don't kill them... Not usually." He argues. "But I can hurt them, especially when I've got 2 million on the line."
"Uhhhhh..." You interject, both afraid and pissed off.
"Shut up." Wade snaps. Wow, he's fucking unstable.
Peter pauses for a few moments, once again looking around. He's strong, sure, he's got his webs too, but Wade really takes a lot more than that to beat. Actually, he's never seen Wade get completely beaten.
Logan "accidentally" put him through a wood chipper a while back, and the little fucker came back within 48 hours, like a roach on steroids. And let's just say that Logan had to grow back a few things of his own, less than an hour after Wade regenerated.
Peter quickly realizes that he should've brought backup, and that it's a bit too late now. However, when his "Spidey senses" were tingling, all he knew was the location, and just guessed that you were involved- not that he'd also have to deal with a certain heavily armed manchild.
There's a long moment of silence, where Wade seems to be genuinely considering how to torture you, and Peter seems to be thinking things over. He comes to a decision, very, very reluctantly.
"... Fine. But you need to promise me that you'll wash it, several times, so there's no way to link it back to me, alright?" He sighs, resigned.
"Yay!" Wade giggles, giddy, and then he instantly proceeds to sheath his katana and lower the pistol, strapping it back onto his thigh. You immediately rush forward, enthusiastically throwing yourself behind behind Peter, relieved.
"Thank you." You mumble, shaking. He nods.
"I promise. Now strip." Wade grins.
"Uh..." Peter looks around, nervous and annoyed and feeling rather exposed. "I was kinda in a rush... Forgot to pack a change of clothes." He mumbles, shifting his gaze to his feet, shifting his weight from one foot to another.
"No problem baby boy, I'm sure nobody would mind seeing that fine ass of yo-"
"Please, shut up, you perverted freak." Peter snaps, still looking at the ground. His SpiderMan bravado has all but disappeared, in just a few seconds. It's actually entertaining.
You hold back a laugh.
Wade pouts. "Aww, I'm sorry." He apologizes mockingly. Laughing, he walks over to a box in the corner, kicking it open unenthusiastically. He digs through it, and after a few moments, you can see his mask stretch as he grins. "You're a bit scrawny, so it should be fine- but here, hopefully these fit."
He tosses a lump of clothes into Peter's arms, making a rather suspicious sound, smirking.
The shirt in Peter's arms has Deadpool's logo on it, with the caption, "this girl wants the D", and they're paired with red skinny jeans and a ski mask, to protect his identity.
Both Peter and you look up, raising an eyebrow each.
"Ex girlfriend. Well... I guess she was actually a prostitute that didn't charge me very much. Either way, it should fit." He says with a shrug. You can tell that the... Interesting choice of clothing is intentional, but neither you or Peter are in the mood to argue.
"Wonderful..." Peter mumbles, rather begrudgingly, walking to hide behind the bathroom door in shame while he changes. You and Wade are both stifling laughter. But, you almost immediately take about twenty steps back, your laughter fading as you watch Wade warily, trying not to trip over the mess of weapons on the floor. You end up leaning on the wall on the other side of the room, distancing yourself from your captor. Wade looks at you, and you can practically feel him frowning, but he shrugs it off and looks back to the bathroom door as it closes.
However, as soon as the door closes, Peter yelps, his scream shockingly high pitched.
"WHY IS THERE A ROTTING ARM IN YOUR SINK, WADE?!"
"Uh..." Wade pauses. "Wolverine and I had a... Civilized debate... And it escalated..." He trails off, twiddling his thumbs.
"BUT WHY DID YOU KEEP THE FUCKING ARM!?" Peter yells. He doesn't really cuss often, leaving both you and Wade rather amused.
"Ah... Trophy?"
"A TROPHY OF YOUR OWN AMPUTATION?"

~20 minutes and a ridiculous amount of smartass comments from Wade later~

Peter stands with you beside him, arms crossed and glaring at Wade through the holes in the mask. The clothes fit him a little too well, to be honest. They are damn near as tight on him as the suit. The design of the shirt isn't exactly helping his case, either.
"You owe me." Peter snaps as he turns to open the door, anxious to get away from Wade and the embarrassing situation at hand.
"Sure thing, baby boy." Wade laughs, tossing the suit onto his couch and sitting down beside it. He throws his leg over the other one and turns the volume back up on the television, sighing and sinking back into the couch as the Little Mermaid continues playing.
You and Peter exchange glances, assuming this is your cue to leave. Peter nods, holding the door open.
"I'll see you tomorrow, and we'll sort this out." He smiles gently through the mask, gesturing for you to leave.
You take the cue thankfully, practically sprinting back to your apartment, leaving the madman behind you, and throwing yourself into your mattress before your door even shuts behind you.
Dozing off instantly, you hardly hear the muffled gunshot from next door, or the splattering sound against the wall.
Or you just don't care enough to acknowledge it.