The psychopath next door (DeadpoolXReader)

Thank god for a stalker

The next morning, er, well, afternoon, you wake up around two p.m., your neck and back throbbing.
You sit up, shaking your head and looking around, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar setting. Unbothered, you take a deep breath. The groggy feeling in your head is slowly fading, but doesn't seem to be going away completely anytime soon.
You yawn and stretch, trying to recall whatever dream you had last night, or how you ended up here, or how you'd fallen asleep in your clothes.
A few moments later, reality sets in, and you immediately remember where you are. In a shitty apartment, in a shitty town, in a shitty situation- and sitting on one hell of a shitty mattress. You're assuming the rock hard surface is what's causing the pain in your back and neck.
With a groan, you pull yourself to your feet and stumble groggily across the room, past your couch, and into the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, you're met with quite a bit of disappointment- you'd completely forgotten to purchase any sort of food. Your stomach growls in discontent.
"Fuck..." You mumble, leaning on the counter and burying your face in your hands. You've got no food, limited money, and feel like you have one hell of a hangover. Last night was a goddamn mess, and now your life is also a mess.
You stand up, coming to a decision to start trying to get your shit together, and crack your knuckles. Not bothering to change out of yesterday's clothes, or look in a mirror to see your ratty, tangled hair, you lazily pull on a pair of combat boots, mumbling and cussing to yourself along the way. Pulling on a red leather jacket and checking to make sure you have your phone, you stomp out the door and down the hall, exhausted and pissed off at the universe.
You pass your neighbor's door rapidly, not even bothering to turn your head in its direction, just wanting to forget that hostage mess ever happened and move out of this hellhole as soon as you have the money.
Within a few minutes, you're at a small grocery store down the street, ignoring the probing stares of fellow customers, curious as to why you look half dead and like you literally just rolled out of bed. Both of which are completely accurate.
You walk up and down the isles with a basket over your arm, absentmindedly tossing in things like soup and cereal and a hell of a lot of Mac and cheese, but being mindful of your limited budget, all the while cursing your mother for throwing you out just because she discovered you're friends with SpiderMan.
You didn't mean to ever let her know, but Peter had to drop you off a week ago, completely shitfaced, after he managed to rescue you from a pretty serious bar fight. Not only were you barely 20 years old, but your mother had a pretty strict "no drinking/illegal things" rule that you had completely violated. To make it worse, Peter literally handed your limp body, covered in bruises, to your mother, at one in the morning.
"She'll be fine, just a few scrapes and bruises." He assured kindly, and she slammed the door without a word. Your mother, for whatever reason, hates any sort of super hero- absolutely detests them. So, she didn't give the man in the bodysuit holding her daughter a second glance.
She then argued with you for a week, about all that had happened that night, until you gave in and admitted that you'd done similar things before and yes, you were associated with SpiderMan.
She had thrown you out before you could even blink.
You shake your head at the memory.
By the time you're just about done shopping, your basket is entirely full of junk food and microwave dinners. You can't cook for shit and now is honestly not the time to learn.
Still annoyed, but significantly less fatigued after walking around a bit and getting some sunlight, you head towards checkout.
And, just your luck- suddenly, a chilling shriek sounds from a few isles down, followed promptly by a gunshot.
You drop your basket instantly, startled, and look up at the TV on the ceiling, displaying the security camera footage.
Three men, clad in back, are crouched down and slowly walking from isle to isle, armed with some pretty heavy duty looking assault rifles, rounding up all of the shoppers. You can see what looks like a child and an adult lying on the floor, unmoving. And in blood.
You feel a sharp pain in your chest, followed by quite a bit of aggravation towards whoever would shoot a child.
But you instantly snap yourself out of that, going into a bit of a survival mode.
Fortunately, it's a large store- but they're getting close to where you are rather quickly. And you can almost see yourself on the security camera footage- If you can see them, they can see you.
"Shit." You hiss under your breath, abandoning your basket on the floor and beginning to quietly back up towards the corner of the store. You've had enough of all this hostage nonsense, honestly, and yet it seems to follow you.
Just as you think you might be able to duck underneath some blankets for sale in the far corner, you stumble into a display case, sending boxes upon boxes of kids toys tumbling to the ground. You flinch, alarmed at the earsplitting sound it makes, especially since the screams died down and have turned into frightened whispers and uneasy rustling from the small group of hostages on the other side of the store. Looking back to the security footage, you notice all three of the men perk up instantly, looking in your direction.
One of them, the largest of the three, delivers hand signals to the other two and begins to head your way, gun loaded and ready.
"Fuuuckkkk..." You cuss yet again, as quietly as you can, backing yourself even further in the corner and preparing to either run, or go along with whatever they want.
Tucking yourself into a corner and pulling your knees to your chest, you wait-
But it's not the armed robber that reaches you.
Looking to your left, after hearing what sounds like breathing, you see an all too familiar figure crouching beside you.
"Heyo!" Wade chirps, giving you a thumbs up.
"Oh. My. God." You groan, absolutely fed up with this guy. "You followed me?"
"Well..." He shrugs nonchalantly. "I had a day off, so I decided to spend it following you around, out of curiosity. It's not often that Spidey introduces me to his friends." You can hear him smiling, but it seems to fade as the rage and irritation shows through on your face.
You glare, crossing your arms. "I wouldn't call it an introduction. More like an abduction."
Wade just shrugs again, much to your dismay.
While trying to think of a response, you notice him glancing upwards at the TV, and suddenly he perks up a bit, apparently realizing there's a bit of a situation.
"Well, as bitter as you are towards me," he pauses and draws one of his guns, and you immediately jump to your feet in alarm, putting at least a few meters between the two of you. He continues, after frowning at your reaction from beneath his mask, "you're lucky I chose today to follow you." He stands up as well, checking to make sure his pistol is loaded, and nods, apparently satisfied.
Before the criminal can even completely round the corner, Wade puts a bullet in his leg, and then another in his arm, sending the man and his rifle to the floor in just seconds, in agonizing pain. The other two men hear the gunshot, and the scream of their accomplice, whipping around and heading in your direction instantaneously.
After the shot is fired, you shrink back into the shelf for shelter. You've seen people get shot before, so the blood and the entire process isn't exactly bothering you very much. But Wade is clearly unstable- he seems to be having fun with this, judging by the way he's chuckling to himself.
You're not sure if he'll shoot you next, and the thought does genuinely fill you with a certain amount of fear.
When the other two men arrive, Wade instantly puts bullets in their skulls, without a flinch.
You raise your eyebrows, trying to ignore the blood splatters all over the shelves and floor, looking instead at Wade, who's strapping his pistol back to his thigh with a satisfied hum.
He gives you a thumbs up, and you just stay frozen in place, unsure of how to react to any of this.
Immediately afterwards, you can hear sirens outside and police officers storming in, shouting to each other and beginning to search the store.
You turn to look in the direction of an approaching officer, waving for him, indicating that someone's injured. Well, also dead.
You turn around, then, to ask Wade how he's  going to handle the situation, since he's just killed two men and severely wounded the other, and you're sure the cops aren't exactly going to congratulate him.
But you turn around to see nothing but a shelf, and Wade is nowhere to be found.

Fun little author's note - I haven't written fanfiction in almost 5 years and was not planning on updating this one again. I still probably won't, but I am working on some other ones right now, and due to continued interest in this story I may revisit it eventually. Returning to writing wasn't something I ever planned on, so I apologize.