double penetration *deadpool

There was wonder, in power - in freedom. A place born of unprecedented times, led solely by the desire for those in oppression to be given the rights they deserved. Wade hadn’t really thought of the fact that he was a mutant, before. Not that it really mattered - even has a mutant, he was less oppressed than most. Hell, he’d grown up a white guy in New York City. How hard could his life actually have been?

But now, sitting on the island, legs dangling over the side of the stone wall, one Charles Xavier beside him, peacefully watching the waves ease and press over, and over - it was easy to forget that something so tragic had happened to so many.

Wade wasn’t a permanent resident of Genosha. Didn’t really need to be, honestly. Even with a mutant uprising, Wade’s life hadn’t really...changed. He was still living in the same, dumpy apartment with roaches and a mattress without a box spring. Still buying cheap Mexican food from the cart down the road that he got food poisoning from more often than not. Still going to the same shitty bars, pining over the same lanky Spider-Man, and still thinking about where the hell he was going to end up the further he went down the ‘hero’ road.

There was peace between them, he and Charles. Both staring silently out into the water. Wade slowly turned, expression serious for a moment, “This place is so beautiful. It would be a shame if someone were to ruin the atmosphere by telling you I’ve really gotta burp. Been holding it in for like, 20 minutes now.” 

Wade’s fingers curled around the handle of his sword, poking his head from behind the corner he’d hid himself behind. A woman. A pretty woman. Wade blinked behind his mask.

“Hey! Hey you!” Flipping the sword around wildly, Wade nearly tripped and fell on the blade himself, yelping like a scorned dog. “Oh shit -- nngh. Okay, oof -- hold on!” Picking himself up, Wade did a half-hearted twirl, cocking his head in confusion when he took the woman in clearly for the first time. “Do I... know you? I feel like I would have remembered all of...that.” 

Wade waved the katana the length of her body.

It’s raining when Wade makes it to Peter’s house. Things between them had settled a bit, since his disastrous misstep at the lake (where he tried to kiss Peter, got rejected, and things were super duper awkward there for a minute). He hadn’t asked Peter to hang out since then - without masks, without barriers, because... well, it was hard seeing his Petey-Pie’s face, knowing he would never get to actually kiss it.

But being Peter’s friend was good too! Just as good, actually. He would take any scraps from Peter that the man would afford him. It made Wade smile, that the young hero wanted him to be good. Or at least better.

By the time he made it to Peter’s apartment, a miracle that he was there instead of at MJ’s place, Wade was feeling a little nervous to give Peter his ‘sorry I almost fucked up our friendship, but I’m glad we’re getting back to normal’ gift. A medium sized teddy bear, made of overly-soft plush, shoved into the pocket of his hello kitty backpack. He knew the man was sensory-driven too (had to be with super-human ((spider?)) sensibilities), which made Wade want to...

Want to spoil him? Give him things to make him happy? Ugh.

Tapping on the man’s bedroom window, Wade waited patiently, drawing a dick wearing a little sombrero in the steam. “Peeeeteeeeeey.”

Wade whipped around, mouth agape behind his mask. “You sounded like my mother for a second!” Poking the young girl playfully, Wade quickly turned back around to the cashier to order their ice creams, proudly handing one to Gabby and keeping one for himself with entirely too many toppings and drenched in different sauces. 

“It’s not dickish if I order things on the menu, even if it’s everything on the menu, shortcake.” Wade flicked a stray sprinkle at her as they took a seat at the table. “Now eat your ice cream or you’ll get the stern Wade look. I’ll even grow a temporary mustache to really give you the full effect!” The mercenary pushed up his mask, shoving the entire top park of the ice cream cone into his mouth at once, chewing obnoxiously when he could finally close his mouth.

(count: unlimited! yay!)

Sleuthing around the crowds, conveniently holding a drink in front of his medical-grade face mask (don’t ask how he was going to drink it), the wannabe-hero searched the sea of faces, eyes catching a set of familiar ones. Tilting his head toward a more secluded area of the pier (fancy rich people always had weddings on the pier, next to their too-big-yachts), Wade slinked toward an unoccupied table, grinning like a loon under his mask.

Setting his drink onto the table, Wade fluttered his eyelashes, “You come for the free booze too?”

///

They’d had a lot of conversations, Matt and Foggy, when his secret was unintentionally revealed. They ranged from just how many head injuries he’d sustained over the years (explains a lot, really, his best friend had muttered knowing, now, that Matt could hear every breath that crossed his lips) to just how much he could really smell, to the fact that wouldn’t this whole thing be easier if you had someone beside you, you know, like a partner in crime or someone on your six, because it can’t be fun going out there alone every night, can it?

Fun was never the reason for it. Partners only meant that people got hurt. It made you softer, more complacent. Matt was a human in an enhanced world, and that meant he needed to be at the top of his game. Working with Elektra – with the Defenders – was different. Deadpool … well, Deadpool was never going to be the kind of guy Foggy encouraged him to play nice with, but Matt also didn’t have an option when it came to having him around. He stuck like glue.

“Think of it as a challenge,” Matt deadpanned. “How many traumatic injuries can you cause without making someone bleed out on the pavement?” Deadpool liked challenges – at least he assumed. Most people were easy to get a read on, even without Matt’s abilities providing an advantage. Not this man. “Smuggling contraband guns through New Jersey,” Matt replied. “They’re supplying the Yakuza, mostly, but also the Russians and–” Deadpool’s foot touched against his, and Matt’s expression shifted. “I will break both of your legs. Again,” he informed him. A beat passed, and, “If you say that turns you on, I’m leaving you on this rooftop and I’m making sure you don’t find me this time.”

A challenge? Wade liked challenges - something to work toward, something he can celebrate after he accomplishes it? Hell yeah. “Okay, yeah. I can do traumatic injuries.” Gloved hands reached for the gun on his hip, silencer snapping into place in his palm. “We need more gun control in this country - too easy to get one of these pretty babies.” Mimicking a stereotypical action pose, Wade swung the gun around toward Daredevil, then back toward the edge of building, little ‘pew pews’ leaving his mouth. 

Daredevil often reminded Wade of his Petey-pie. Strong moral values, the desire to protect people in whatever way they had to. Wade wanted to be like them. Wanted to stand for something. Be a symbol for the people of the world (and hey, aliens too - he’s not xenophobic) that they can look up to and trust. “Let’s do this.”

Turning abruptly, Wade took a flying leap from the edge of the building, humming his version of James Bond’s theme as he fell from the height. If he hit a few awnings on the way down, it was totes purposeful.

[📱to Jerk 🙃 ] you only wish you were ABBA […] [📱to Jerk 🙃 ] i don’t think /anyone/ is really meant to feel alone. twenty-eight known galaxies and i’ve only ever met people who like being alone, but don’t like feeling lonely. there’s a difference. […] [📱to Jerk 🙃 ] is that why you jump into chats uninvited?

&

( 📩 → pool, comma, dead ): Yes. ( 📩 → pool, comma, dead ): you never forget your first cursed image

/

Good soldiers didn’t work in armies, like the books stated or the legends proclaimed. Good soldiers knew that relying on other people made you soft. It made you weak. It meant that you trusted someone else to watch your back instead of surveying the environment for yourself. Stick claimed all of this and more as he was training a young Matt Murdock, yet it transpired that the whole time, Stick had an army behind him all of his own – the Chaste, an army that fell long before Matt could join their ranks, long before he could even consider what it meant to be one of them.

Good soldiers wouldn’t trust someone like Deadpool, at least not on the surface. At the start, Matt tried dropping off the edges of buildings and dodging anywhere with his unique trademarks in an attempt to avoid the man entirely, but Deadpool was… well, he was like a bad penny. He turned up at the slightest provocation and he stuck to his side like a lichen. Over time, much like an over attached puppy, he started to grow on a person.

Matt would die before he admitted it, though.

Under his helmet, Matt’s jaw clenched as he made his way up onto the rooftop. “Better than DD,” he muttered, although it was a tight competition for most irritating reaction to his superhero name. (Jessica would enjoy it, he figured. She enjoyed anything that took some of the dark and brooding out of his nighttime activities.) Matt stood, arms crossed, waiting for Deadpool to finish up his level … only to flinch slightly when the other man fell back dramatically.

“Feeling’s mutual,” Matt deadpanned. “Now that you’re done defeating fictional supervillains, how do you feel about helping me with these ones?” For Deadpool’s benefit, he’d got Jess to write down a quick summary of the gang they were tracking tonight on a piece of paper, which he tossed over towards Deadpool. “Do we need to go through the ground rules?” No talking, no flirting, no killing. Three very simple terms and conditions … which Deadpool managed to subvert spectacularly and uniquely every. Goddamn. Time.

.

“You’re happy to see me? Awww, Devvy-egg~” Wade’s faux-panda eyes filled with fictional tears, and he sniffled dramatically before Daredevil’s serious-voice kicked in. “Right. I guess I can kill some –– I mean, uh...” Daredevil had rules. A lot like his baby boy, Petey. Wade reached for the paper, humming like he was even somewhat comprehending the information before him, and most definitely not thinking about the newest episode of Teen Titans: Go! that would be on his stolen DVR when he got home. “Totally do-able. Like yo–” 

Lips pursed behind his leather mask, Wade stopped himself from finishing his sentence. The man’s “rules” were always so hard to follow! Pouting, Wade clapped the smaller man on the shoulder, knowing he would see it coming despite not actually seeing it coming. ...Because he was blind. Haha. Funny joke, right readers? No? Yeah, a little too problematic, I guess.

“Uh. Anyway – what were these guys doing anyway? Other than being baddies, of course.” Slowly, Wade’s steel-toed boot reached out to gently tap at Daredevil’s, the mutant giggling the moment they touched. “Hehe. Footsies.”

“I don’t care what’s in your hair, I just wanna know what’s on your mind.” // SPIDEYPOOL

[📱to Jerk 🙃 ] no, this is a /behave/, or this is going to be a very long, very miserable existence for both of us […] [📱to Jerk 🙃 ] are you lonely? [📱to Jerk 🙃 ] which isn’t an offer!! [📱to Jerk 🙃 ] it’s an honest question