One-shot's: Deadpool x Reader

All right, here I come, folks! I'm rocking a suit that makes me look like a tuxedo-wearing penguin. Because, you know, nothing distracts from my face like a black-and-white ensemble, right? Nope, impossible. I haven't even seen her in her dress yet, and I'm already more nervous than a cat at a dog show. Sure, I trust this woman more than my own reflection, but let's be real: showing my face without the mask? Social suicide!

So, I burst into the party, and naturally, I attract everyone's attention. It's Spidey's wedding, full of superheroes, and here I am—the only idiot strutting in with a mask. Epic embarrassment level: 9000. And there she is, Y/N, looking all kinds of fabulous! We've met a thousand times outside the office, but never like this—hairdo that screams, "Look at me!" and a dress that makes my heart do somersaults.

"Wade," she greets me with a hug. "You look great!"

"I look great? Girl, you're on fire!" I twirl her around, and she laughs.

"Come on, you have to sit with me. Tony's in sentimental mode, and he won't stop reminiscing about his youth. I might have nightmares."

We laugh our way to the table. I sit down, and everyone stares. They know me, they're our friends, but come on—did they really expect me to show up sans mask? When Y/N gets up to chat with MJ, the whole table leans in like it's a dramatic soap opera.

"What are you doing, Pool?" Banner asks, incredulous. "Really bringing the mask?"

"It completes the look," I shrug, playing it cool.

"Dude, we know you're embarrassed to show your face to Y/N," Natasha chimes in, and ouch, that hurts.

"Pfft, embarrassed? Please. I'm a daddy..." I trail off.

"You have nothing to worry about, Wade," Steve assures me. "She's not shallow. She appreciates you too much to be affected by your face."

"Again, it's to complete the look."

"If she wore a mask all the time, wouldn't you want to see what she looks like underneath?" Banner presses. "You've been friends for over a year."

"Sure, but if I want to stay friends, I need to keep it a mystery."

"And what happens when you want to be more than friends?" Banner pokes, his curiosity piqued. "It's obvious you two have a little chemistry going on. She's not going to date you if you don't open up a bit."

Great, the bride and groom are supposed to be the center of attention, but somehow, my love life is the hot topic. Spoiler alert: Y/N and I aren't officially dating.

Fed up with the Avengers' meddling, I decide to take a breather in the bathroom. I know they mean well, but can we not talk about my face like I'm some kind of circus freak? I splash some water on my cheeks, and just when I'm starting to relax, I hear the door creak open.

"Wade," Y/N calls softly, placing a hand on my back. Instinctively, I whip around, eyes wide, hands flying to cover my face. "Are you alright?"

I wish I was drunk—no way I'm feeling this anxious before the night even kicks off.

"Yeah, just..." I let out a sigh. "This is what I look like."

Slowly, I lower my hands. She's got that worried expression, the one that's worse than a grimace of disgust.

"That's not what I meant, Wade," she explains. "You looked upset when you went in. I thought something had happened."

Why isn't she commenting on my face? Does she not care? Does she think I'm hiding a Picasso?

"What are you thinking?" I ask, curiosity getting the best of me. She raises an eyebrow, waiting. "I want to know what you think of my face."

"Oh, Wade, is that what's bothering you?" she says, rolling her eyes. "You showered in my apartment. I slept on your couch. You invited my parents over for chimichangas. Do you really think your looks matter to me? We've shared way more intimate moments than this. Our bond is stronger than that. Remember, I look like a hot mess when I wake up."

Okay, maybe the Avengers have a point. Technically, we're dating, even if we've never defined it. She practically lived at my place when I was feeling down, and deep down, I think she knew I just needed company.

So, maybe Y/N is more than just my friend. At least, I want her to be.

"So, what do you think? How do I look?"

"Honestly? Much better than I imagined." Ouch. Now it feels like a pity compliment. "I'm serious! You have a look very..."

"Very what?"

"Seductive?" She bites her lip, and I can't help but smile. "I don't enjoy seeing you with those scars that remind me of the damage done to you. But you're not the monster you claim to be. Is that why you brought the mask?"

"No, it was to complete the look," even I don't believe that excuse anymore.

"Never stop being yourself for me," she says, pointing that accusatory finger of hers.

"Are you sure?" I ask, hands up. "If I feel something, shouldn't I hold back?"

"Wade, I'm in the men's room for you. Our bond is too strong for..."

But I don't let her finish. I shut her up with a kiss. She freezes for a second, then responds. You don't know what you just signed up for, Y/N, but I'll do my best to make sure you don't regret it.