Author's note: Hi! So I finally got around to reading the Spider-Man/Deadpool-comic series and consider me entertained. This is my first attempt in writing Deadpool and I'm not so sure how I did but damn did I like writing this, I might make a series around this since I've been toying with a couple of ideas. This was going to be smut but I got so turned off by my own jokes they never got around doing it. Oh well, perhaps some other time.
AND just so you know, I'm so sad I had to tag the spoiler. The little devil in my head is crying with agony rn.
Anyway, if it for some reason isn't obvious, I'm not a native speaker, so there are bound to be mistakes. Terribly sorry about that. Do feel free to correct me if you want to.
Without further ado I hope you'll like this and thank you for reading!
WARNINGS: Dark humour, sexual jokes, explicit violence
now
"Watch it!" Spiderman yelled, and Wade Wilson turns around just in time to receive a traffic sign on his stomach. Peter scrunches his nose inside his mask feeling sick watching as the pole sinks into the red suit and pierces through the flesh with ease drawing out some of Wade's small intestine as it exits from his back with an awful squelch-like sound.
Deadpool's face looks frozen in mid curse when the plate of the sign crashes into his chest and the momentum it has gathered from the throw of the giant monster makes the man not only stumble but fly backwards several meters.
'Yikes,' Peter thinks to himself feeling relieved he hadn't been the one on the receiving end.
"Next time buy me dinner first," Deadpool cracks a half-assed joke and Parker could hear that the blow had stolen all the air from the man. And judging from the way his already weird voice now sounded like he was gurgling mouthwash, he was most likely looking at broken ribs, probably every single one of them, not even mentioning a punctured lung. The monster laughs heartily as it watches Wade struggling to free himself but seeing as the sharp end the pole had sunk firmly into a wall and Wade had dropped his blades the man was going nowhere – or at least not in one piece.
"Hang tight, Red," Spiderman yells trying his best to figure out how to hurt something that seems to be made out of gelatine. He could see the creature had organs, but they were right in the middle covered with who knows how many inches of its jellylike flesh.
"No worries, Webs. I'll just hang in here." Wade's voice is so weak and broken that Peter hardly hears him, but he doubts the words are really meant for him specifically.
"Hey, Jell-o!" Deadpool shrieks coughing, "could you cover yourself up? You're kinda off-pudding."
The monster's yellow eyes travel from Peter, through its core, to Wade and the younger seizes this opportunity to swing closer and shoot a web to the pedestrians crossing-sign, with which his friend had been neatly hung into the wall.
"Eyes here ugly," Peter whistles to the creature after getting a firm grip with his feet from the wall of the building on the opposite side and he uses all his might to pull the sign. Hoping he'll flung it with enough force for it to pierce through the orange coloured brain hiding in plain sight inside the monster.
Time seems to slow down as Peter watches his partner cough up some more blood, some of it spilling through the mask in fat red drops, when the pole moves. The mercenary, however, doesn't fall down as he had expected but instead manages to get a firm grip on the pole's red sloppy surface when it exits his body and is dragged along with it, flying through the air yet again. Peter Parker feels vomit climbing up his throat as the loose hanging bowel gets dragged further out from Wade's body by the draft making it hang obscenely behind the man like a rapidly growing bloody tail. As cool and unlikely as the event unravelling in front of him is Peter wants to groan. All the extra pounds hanging on it the speed of the horribly abused traffic sign decreases so drastically, the blob, who - mind you- is one of the slowest sons of bitches Peter had ever fought, manages to dodge it.
Wade lands quite smoothly behind the creature while the pole clatters lazily to the asphalt. He grabs his beloved katana about to rip their enemy a new one when he suddenly freezes mid-motion.
"Nobody move!" he yells in a horrible voice, Peter can't describe as nothing less, than utter horror. "I dropped something!"
"Wade?" Spiderman calls but Wade is too busy scanning the ground to hear him. Luckily the "mighty monster blurgh" from outer space with his blown ego is too shocked to move by the man's sudden disinterest in fighting it. The situation is yet again so surreal Peter has trouble deciding whether he wanted to laugh or cry. To strangle or help Wade in whatever the man is occupied with.
Peter lands on the blood-soaked asphalt next to Wade keeping a watchful eye on the still motionless monster.
"What's up with you today, man. Your jokes are so much worse than usual, which is saying a lot, and you're just down right sloppy. This," Peter motions towards the see-through spacejelly, "is a fucking joke."
"How dare you puny human!" the monster roars spawning a sticky hand with which he grabs a nearby taxi that had been abandoned there when the hassle had started.
"Shut up," Wade retorts, "I lost my stomach. I paid an arm and a leg for the sushi that's in it and I'm not going to waste that money. It's a matter of principal. And if I slice that disgusting excuse of a space invader open I'll never find it."
"What?" Peter Parker asks in unison with the awfully generic space invader. "Jinx," the young man says as an instinct while the five-foot monster Jell-o roars with fury. Apparently finding their way of speaking about it insulting.
"How dare you! My species is superior to yours and once I send the signal to my home planet, we will-"the sentence is cut short as Wade jumps the gun, not literally, by slicing its face open with one furious swing. What resulted is the worst smell Peter had ever smelled. He instantly covers his nose and mouth with his hand and even stops breathing but still it feels like the hair in his nose would've caught on fire.
"The fucker stepped on my sushi," Wade cries out in agony while he throws not one or two but three grenades inside the creature.
"Shit," Peter gasps trying to fling a web to the nearest building in order to escape at least most of the incoming shower of gross alien goop but, much to his dismay, the webslinger in his wrist only clicks quietly. "For fucks sake."
"Really? Did you have to blow him up?" Peter asks after recovering from his initial shock. He still kept his eyes shut tight, lips pursed together, and all limbs separated from his body in order to feel the disgusting thick substance on his skin as little as possible.
"Him? Oh, we're assuming genders now? Great work on that phrasing you disgusting white heterosexual cis-male," Deadpool babbles under his tone while stuffing the flattened stomach and all the bowel he had found back into the hole on his abdomen
"This is so nasty. At times like these I really hope I would've just followed my childhood dream of becoming a teacher," Peter tells Wade with a tone strained from his unwillingness to breathe through the soaked mask.
"Wow, webs. You really need to think bigger. Like the Jell-o man! Despite all his disabilities he still came to earth to show his annoying blob of a mother, who never believed in him, that he could invade this planet. What an inspiration," Wade declares very ceremoniously while very unceremoniously picking off a cigarette butt that had been glued to the side of his large intestine.
"Hey, teacher is a respectable position," Peter argues daring to open his eyes but regrets it instantly, "and could you stop playing with your hole that's so gross."
"Well, you try growing a new digestive system before judging me," The mercenary huffs groggily.
"Okay, seriously. What's wrong with you? That's, like, the third sexual innuendo you've missed," the younger asks while trying to shake the most of the goop off.
"Fourth but not that anyone is counting," Wade corrects him stepping on something orange (a part of the creature's brain?) on the ground after witnessing it trying to flee the scene.
"Fourth?" Peter mumbles distractedly.
"Yeah. When he was all like 'I've come here to look for a new planet' and you were all like 'oh, Deadpool. Slit this bitch open and after that you can slit my tight little ass." Deadpool's imitation of the alien intruder being a low grumble and of Peter a very high-pitched shriek.
"Right," Spiderman sighs giving up on cleaning himself, "you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But just tell me if I should be worried?"
"About me slitting your hole? No, it's just a figure of speech. I'm really the gentlest lover. Deadpool is all about your enjoyment," Wade answers sounding very serious for a change and Peter is taken aback by the serious and thoughtful answer but disappointed it was to a question he'd never asked.
"Whatever, I'm going to head out. My webshooter's out of juice. You coming?" Peter asks after trying his webshooter one more time just to double check whether he had any other options than to walk.
"I have a flat nearby. Don't get me wrong. Seeing you covered in jizz is so a dream come true but not under these circumstances," Wade chimes obviously happy about the fact that the Spiderman was going to walk with him instead of swinging away as usually.
After so many spider related songs on the way to Wade's flat. Too many minutes spent covered with a thick layer of the most foul-smelling shit ever the water felt divine on his skin. The warmth of it soothing to his aching muscles. His suit lays dripping after a wash on the toilet seat cover smelling of the same shampoo Peter is now using to get the goop from his hair. The bottle label says field of flowers but to him it smelled like any other generic cheap shampoo. Kind of like the way you can buy an air freshener to your car in the scent of new car.
He wipes the fog away from the mirror enjoying the familiar squeak. His face stares back at him from the already fogging reflection. A little reluctantly he pulls the soaked mask back on his face before walking out of the bathroom with a towel on his waist.
Wade is still in his suit, but the mask was rolled up all the way up to his forehead. He is sitting on a rocky chair resting his legs on an equally rocky desk. Between his lips burns a cigarette and the brown eyes give Peter a sideways look. The hole on the man's stomach still as gruesome as ever but it had stopped bleeding.
"You wouldn't happen to have an extra pair of undies?" Peter asks flashing a smile Wade couldn't see.
"I do," the older man answers taking a long drag from the cigarette and blowing the smoke from his nose, otherwise motionless.
"So? You going to lend me a pair?"
"Nu-uh," the short answer is served with a smug grin.
"Sweet Jesus could you just talk to me? I'm all ears, man. I mean – fuck you're so annoying. My outfit is going to stink like shit for god knows how long and all because I asked you a simple fucking question. But no – you're Wade fucking Wilson – who'll 'accidentally' push an alien beacon to spawn a fucking big ass space amoeba rather than talk about your feelings," Peter fumes looking straight into the brown eyes that hold their unreadable quizzical look up until the word 'accidentally' is said after which their expression turns somewhat sheepish.
"It was a big ass delicious shiny button. It's basic psychology. What was I supposed to do?"
"Say 'no, I'm not feeling well and that's because I'm the most tragic fucking human being ever and nothing good ever comes my way. Thank you for finally empathizing me because I'm fucked up but you know, I have a pretty good reason' or just – you know – not push the button, Wade. You pick but I have a preference," the younger says stingingly crossing his arms and standing tall to tell the other man he wasn't backing down.
"You curse a lot, buddy. That good ol' swear-jar of yours is going to get some serious action tonight," Wade says straightening up from his laidback position, "but fine. I'll tell you. Sit down on daddy's lap because you're in for a treat. Wow, that came out so wrong. Thank god you're an adult."
I looked into the distance, you know the intense pondering gaze every cool hot character does -you know the one.
"Wade-"
"Hush!"
I got up from the bed even though all my hot lovers were begging me to stay but I had a duty to fill. I knew I couldn't stay to give the best sex they'll ever have. You see, someone needed my help so I, as the great insanely generous and unselfish person I am, went to their aid…
Peter sat down on the edge of the squeaky bed, leaned his elbows to his knee, laid down his head pinching the bridge of his nose. He sits there silently, though quite reluctantly so, listening to the longest lie he had ever heard. The most dramatic lie with so many plot twists and with more lovers than James Bond had ever had but goddamn didn't he listen.
"Oh my god. That was just – how do you even come up with this stuff? I mean your stories are never coherent but this one. It didn't make any sense Wade. None. Nada."
"Oh, I see what you did there, Mr. worldwide. But I got to say that when you're unable to die, your story kind of just exists. I mean it's kind of tough to say which way is up and which is down when you've been swimming so long you can't see the bottom anywhere but still there's no surface in sight," the man tells him so nonchalantly.
"That's actually the smartest thing I've ever heard you say. And all it took was one alien invasion and cursing," Peter laughs feeling relieved about the fact that he could feel anxious for Wade. Like you should empathize a person gone through as much shit as Wade had.
"I kind of hope that when Thanos fucks everyone up in Avengers: Infinity War, people can just sit the frick down and let me die," Wade sighs and so much for making sense because Peter has yet again no clue what Wade is talking about.
"I don't know why I even bother with you," the younger says.
"Me neither but that's what I like about you. You still bother, Webs." Wade smiles a genuine smile that spreads to Peter like a plague.
2 hours earlier
"Daddy, I made you cupcakes. The red frosting is made from the blood of your enemies," the girl smiles a wicked grin.
"Aww, honey. That's so thoughtful, is it really?"
"No. I wanted to use real blood, but mommy made me use food coloring. Said it was too gruesome and that you're a useless excuse of a father who will pay for my therapy when I grow up," she says with bright eyes.
"I love the metaphor, sweetey. Now, tell me what these sons of bitches-"
"Mom says the b-word is very a degrading thing to say about a woman and supports the old gender stereotypes where women can only do things males find acceptable," the girl gives the speech in one long breath as if she'd otherwise lose the thought midway through.
"God damn, you beautiful girls," Wade smiles heartily giving the biggest smooch on her forehead. "I'm sorry honey. Whores, Daddy meant sons of whores. Tell daddy what these sons of whores, who hurt your mommy, look like."
"I took a picture," she answered slyly. "It costs two kisses and actual blood for my next cupcakes."
"Whatever you need, sweetcheeks. Now, show the picture," Wade says looking at the little girl so fondly while she goes through her phone and shows the picture. He peppers her little face with enough kisses for him to lose count.
"Daddy's going to eat some cupcakes and then go disembowel some evil men. In the meanwhile, you stay here and be strong for mommy, all right?" he says taking a hold of her little hands that feel so smooth on his own.
"All right but only if you eat all of the cupcakes."
"I will. I swear to god. I'll eat them, digest them, poop them and eat them again."
The girl giggles uncontrollably while scrunching her little bumper of a nose in disgust.
Wade takes the Tupperware box of cupcakes and left the hospital room. He pulled his mask on all the way at first but then proceeds to scroll it up so that his mouth is still visible. He stuffs his mouth full of cupcake while typing a text:
DP: I'm about to do something very fucking stupid. Better come stop me quick
He gets a response almost immediately and it leaves the biggest grin on his scarred face.
Itsybitsyspidey: Text me the address