Title: One Hitman Wonder
Paring: Wade Wilson (Deadpool) X Shy!Male!Reader
Warnings: none! Male pronouns is all.
Spoilers: none!
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Maybe you should have been looking where you were going. It was a guaranteed, playing a game on your phone and walking, that you'd run into someone eventually, especially in the crowded place. But luckily, this person you ran into caught your hand, and your phone before you went ker-splatt! on the pavement, and had a hoodie tied tight around their face.
"You're playing the new Pokémon game too?" the hooded figure pointed to your phone, and showed you their screen. Their trainer was decked out in a red hat and suit, the screen saying the same Eevee that you had been looking for was near. "That's totally cool!"
You feel a blush coming on, but instead, you nod, and mutely take back your phone. "I know I'm too old to play Pokémon -,"
The guy interrupts you with a laugh. "Brother, don't let anyone tell you you're too old to catch 'em all." You got to glance at your phone, to show him the Charizard you'd found on 45th street, but by the time you look up to show the mysterious hoodie guy your find, he's gone.
"Thanks," you whisper into the air.
Maybe you should have been paying attention to the traffic, but who could blame you, you'd just run away from your abusive ex on the street. He was nothing but an ass, and on seeing you, it reminded you of all the horrid nights you spent cowering under the sheets, praying for an exit from that 'love'. But before you were stepping into traffic, you felt a hand tug you back, and twirl you into their arms.
"Let me go, Ward -,"
The figure holding onto you released your arms. "Nope, not Ward. Whoever that double-douche-canoe is, I bet I don't want to find out. You're always getting into trouble you know, Pokémon boy?" the same voice as your hooded hero spoke, but this time, your saviour wore a red suit sort of like Spiderman. "If we're going to keep up with this, I'm going to have to call you something other than Pokémon boy. Okay. I'm going to call you Ash."
You shake your head. "I'm ________. And you -,"
He points a finger at himself, and says proudly, "Name's Deadpool. Anti-hero not in training, doing my best to be paid to save the day."
You frown. "You're being paid to stop me walking into traffic?" you ask.
He shakes his mask, laying a hand on your shoulder lightly. "No, that's free of charge for your handsome face, baby boy. Can't get a scratch on that perfect thing. Nope."
You feel a blush like last time come over your face. "Um, thanks? I guess?"
Deadpool nods. "You're welcome, ________-I mean, gorgeous. Think I'll see you around when I don't have a job to work, cats to rescue from trees, the family business?" he asks you.
You nod. "Sure, I guess. See you later, Deadpool."
And he's gone.
It's winter by the time he turns up into your life again, and by then, you're more introverted than usual. Ward won't leave you alone, wanting you to use your engineering degree toward his workplace (what kind of guy doesn't understand a breakup is a breakup?) and that results in you barely leaving the dinky apartment and jumping at the sound of everything. Which is often, seeing you live smack bang in the middle of the loud city.
But today, the reason you're out of the house is a stupid one. You were halfway through making an omelette, and you realised that you were clean out of milk. And eggs.
Thus, you ventured to the minimart one street over, home to the most vast selection of adult magazines and beer nuts on this side of Central Park. You grab a dozen eggs, and your milk, and paying for the pair at the counter (you never knew someone could have so many facial piercings, you counted the cashier to have 19) you make your way home as fast as you can.
If you're home, Ward can't touch you.
If you're home, bad things can't happen.
If you're home -
"Ash? What the heck are you doing out so late?" A familiar voice grabs your wrist, and yanks you back from crossing the road at the go light.
It's Deadpool. This time, his mask is a little shredded, and there's a long sword in one hand. Usually you'd be thinking HOLY HECK THAT IS A LONG SWORD but at that moment you can't process anything much.
"I - I needed stuff." You hold up your bag. "Hey, man, let me go, 'Pool, I -,"
At that moment, a flaming army tank flies right over where you were about to cross the road, and crashes into a florist down the road with a shower of embers.
"What the heck?"
Deadpool points up the road. "Someone made the Hulk angry. And his nemise-nemishsis - ah, whatever, his evil counterpart is angry too." Down the road, sure is the Hulk in all his green glory and unholy large muscles. And there sure is the abominable evil hulk guy, battling him. "I'm here to make sure you get home safe."
You take a deep breath, and cautiously, "Nobody paid you to do this?" You ask him.
Deadpool shakes his head. "Nope. I just want you to live a beautiful long life and enjoy the sunshine and frickin' roses, my friend. Get married to a gal, have a thousand babies."
You take your hand from his finally. "Dude, I'm - I don't swing that way."
Deadpool grins. "Ah, I get you. Gay. That's good, don't worry, I'm very much like that, I swing every way. Thank America for gay marriage!" He proclaims. "So what, you adopt a kid if you want. I usually take a guy out for drinks before we talk about the future, but whatever."
"You want to take me out for drinks?" you giggle.
Deadpool nods. "Yeah, you're a stand up guy. It would be only proper, since I've saved your life at least twice ."
You frown, and grabbing his arm, you start to cross the road. "Let me drop these things at home first. Deadpool, I like you."
He chuckled. "I like me too."