Various Array of One Shots ✔️

Guardian >> Wade Wilson (Deadpool) X Shy!Reader

Title: Guardian

Paring: Wade Wilson (Deadpool) X Shy!Reader

Warnings: contains blood and mentions of violence and inferences bad language and such. Light hearted humor here as well, kinda fluffy

Spoilers: none

---------------------------------------

The one thing you remembered your father telling you as a child was a motto that you lived by: "not everyone has a guardian angel, ______. Not everyone has someone to fall back on. Sometimes you need to be your own protector."

You couldn't remember much else; you had been seven years old, and thinking of it, hardly remembered much else about your father. But now, many years after his untimely death, sitting on the staircase of you apartment, you thought about what you'd done since then. It had been foster care and homeless shelters, shabby apartments, developing a shyness narrowly bordering on an anxiety to keep yourself alive, and narrowly missing bullets when the gangs fought each other on the streets.

But somehow, you'd been safe throughout it all the turmoils. How? There had been plenty of times you had thought yourself to be a goner.

"You okay, ma'am?"

You glanced up to see a man in a loose jeans and baggy grey hoodie with the hood up, but that wasn't the only thing that cover his face; a red and black mask much like the hero Spider-Man.

"Uh," you blushed, feeling your cheeks heat up at the unexpected confrontation. "I - yeah. I'm good. Thank you." You frowned, and watched as the man glanced around and took a seat beside you on the staircase. You noticed a small stain of red on the hoodie where the breastbone would be. "Are you - are you okay?"

The man laughed. It wasn't a nice laugh; it sounded like his throat was raw, hurt from laughing or screaming often. "Now that's a question I haven't heard before. Have I? No, I don't think so."

You swallowed quietly, staring at your hands and after a few seconds, plucked up the courage to say, "I mean, you don't look okay. Do you need to go to a hospital or something?" You glanced to the slowly growing red stain. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

The man nodded. "'S okay. You know, you look braver from far away, ________."

You stiffened. He knew your name?

"Now she's freaked out," the man scolded himself. "You're stupid. Huh. I am."

"I - I'm not freaked out, its just - I don't know you." You replied. You'd been around plenty of people like this guy who spoke to themselves, but nobody you'd met refused the idea of medical attention.

"Sure you know me," the guy replied. "I've been with you since you were a kid. Those gang guys, they're still after you because of what your dad did, so I looked out for you. Not that I was paid or anything. I'm not getting paid anymore, though. Oh, yeah, and I was the dude who helped you in the shelter, remember? It was kind of annoying, looking after a kid." He paused, "No it wasn't. You're a tough kid."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his external monologue, "Thank you...do you have a name?"

The man shrugged. "You can call me Deadpool. The name's Wade though. Wade Wilson."

Deadpool. You'd heard of him, not all nice things though. "You're a hero, right? Like Captain America or something."

He snorted, which made a weird noise from underneath that mask of his, "Nobody's ever called me a hero before, kid."

Pushing back the hair that had fallen into your face, you replied, almost too bold for your own natural demeanour, "Yeah. A hero. It takes that to want to stick around me, you know...nobody else has." You sighed deeply, and added before Wade could say anything, "and I think I remember seeing you...except you were wearing a suit just like that mask." you gestured to his face vaguely.

Wade nodded. "It's possible. When? Don't ask that, she probably doesn't know. No, ignore that. When?"

You smiled. "Just after I got out of the shelter, a couple of months ago...I was kind of in the crossfire of the gangs, and I - I think I saw you, and you had huge," you gestured widely with your hands, "guns - and you shot the guy who was marking me and yeah." You took a deep breath. "Thank you."

Wade fixed his mask to stop wriggling up, and it was then you noticed his hands. As scarred and broken they looked, you couldn't dislike him for his appearance; heck, he saved your life more than you probably knew.

"I choose a thankless job, and finally, get some," you watched his lips under the mask turn up into a smile. "Huh."

It was then it hit you; your father's words from so long ago. Not everyone has a guardian angel. You smiled at your hands, knowing something. Yes, not everyone had a guardian angel, or even a guardian, but you did. And he was a mercenary who wore a red and black suit and had been looking out for you for longer than anyone else had.

"I mean it, Wade." You grinned, moving to stand up. "And if you like, you can finally properly come in for a drink of something if you like. I mean," you stuttered, "I mean, if you're not busy."

Wade stood, hands in his hoodie pockets. "I can do a drink of something, ______."