dpimagines

[dpimagines]

UNMASKED

pairing: Deadpool/Wade Wilson x reader

summary: Wade wants to get closer to you, and you want to get closer to Wade. Neither of you know how to do that. PART 2 TO PRETTY.

warnings: Some language, dialogue about insecurities and typical Wade innuendos. No use of Y/N.

word count: 1.8k

______

Wade liked keeping an eye on you.

Not in a “you might need a restraining order against this man” way, at least, he didn’t think so. He actually wasn’t sure how you would feel about him watching over you the way he did. 

Wade just had to make sure that you were safe, that’s all. Surely you’d understand that if you ever found out.

Right?

He lowered his hood as his gaze trained on you hurrying up the steps of your apartment building, trying to avoid the rain that was beginning to fall. You were not dressed properly for the incoming storm, your T-shirt doing nothing to keep you dry. Wade could see the fabric darken in some spots as the rain bled through to your skin, no doubt chilling you to the bone.

When you reached the door, you came to a sharp stop, whipping your body around and staring behind you, narrowing your eyes as if in search of something. Wade ducked near the awning of the restaurant opposite your street, angling his body away at your sudden change of movement.

You’d probably seen him.

Shit.

What was wrong with him? Losing his edge, being careless. Wade did not want you finding out that he stalked watched over your well-being. His face wasn’t even covered. You’d put together that it was him, his marred skin would be a good clue considering that you’ve seen how the rest of his body looks like. 

But maybe he wanted you to see his face.

And maybe you wouldn’t care?

Wade, you are so incredibly stupid.

“Shut up,” he mutters, shaking his head at his inner voices, risking a glance back over his shoulder, not being able to stop the droop of relief in his shoulders at the sight of you gone, disappeared into your building. 

The phone buzzing in his pocket nearly gave him a heart attack. Shit shit shit shit shit you had caught him you had caught him-

Wade turned his back towards your building again and pulled his phone out with shaky hands. Tapping on the screen twice brought it to life and only one notification stared back at him:

Pumpkin Hey are you coming by later? Some weird stuff’s been goin on and I honestly miss you

Okay, so maybe you were onto him, but you had no clue that it was him. That wasn’t so bad, and Wade could easily BS his way out of this. Perfect.

A second message came through:

Pumpkin Oh and if you are, bring Chinese food :)

Wade couldn’t help the smile that cracked his lips as he fired off a quick reply in confirmation.

About a half hour later, he was bursting through the doorway of your apartment, arms piled with Chinese take-out from your favorite place down the street. He had his mask on, even as regular clothes covered the rest of his body- a pair of sweatpants, a black zip-up hoodie, and a shirt with Spider-Man’s mask in a heart.

This had become normal for him- allowing the rest of his body to be vulnerable around you, but his mask stayed on. As much as you wanted to see your dear friend’s face, you didn’t push the issue. This was already a big gesture of trust on Wade’s end and you didn’t want to ruin it.

A shitty reality dating show played on your TV while you two ate your food on the couch, your legs draped carelessly on his. 

Another thing that had become normal- casual intimacy.

You weren’t completely aware of when it had become acceptable to be this close to Wade. Sure, he was naturally a bit touchy and he made crude jokes, but there was still a basic understanding and respect for your personal space. Ever since you had first seen his body, and he had slept in your bed however, he had become way more affectionate than before. Warmth and embarrassment flooded your insides as he casually shifted your legs atop his to get more comfortable. 

Rain battered the windows, the sky dark and unforgiving. The gentle smattering of rain from an hour ago has turned into a raging, and frankly concerning storm. Severe weather alerts had already popped up on your phone, but you didn’t pay much mind. You were trying furiously to ignore the face of the man sitting next to you. 

When you two began your friendship, Wade had made you pinky-promise to not watch him eat. Eating required him to pull up his mask, and what lay beneath wasn’t for your eyes, so whenever you shared a meal with him, you kept your eyes trained firmly forward on the TV in front of you.

The more affectionate he got however, the more difficult this task proved to be.

“So-” Wade broke your train of thought, his voice muffled around the egg roll he had stuffed in his mouth, “What’s the weird stuff that’s been going on?”

You swallowed, lowering your food container to your lap. “It’s gonna sound dumb,” you said quietly, drumming your fingers nervously on the sides of the container.

“Lay it on me Pumpkin. Hard and fast, the way I like it.”

Your skin flushed at the comment but you ignored it. “I feel like someone’s stalking me,” you said, aware of how silly you must have sounded.

The words hung in the air, an awful weight settling deep in your gut. Great, way to sound paranoid. You couldn’t even gently lead into the topic.

“Why do you say that?” Wade finally asked. There was a sense of restraint to his tone, one that made you pause.

“I just- well-” You sighed, shaking your head. “Just feels like I’m being stared at all the time. I don’t know how to explain it. And earlier, before I texted you, I swear I actually saw someone standing across the street.”

Wade gave a laugh, but it seemed like a tinge of nervousness clung to it. “Anyone can stand on the street, Pumpkin.”

Thunder boomed outside, temporarily shaking your apartment building, and mirroring the frustration inside of you. “No no, I felt like someone was staring at me, so I turned around, and some guy with his hood pulled up just happened to dodge near the alley at the same time. It was weird, Wade. That’s why I wanted you here tonight,” you said. You put your food on the end table, appetite lost now. “It kinda scared me.”

Wade remained uncharacteristically silent as he mulled your words over. You were beginning to speak up again, when he did.

“Perhaps it's time for that psych evaluation we always talk about.”

“Wade, please, I want to be serious about this. I know you mean well but-”

Darkness enveloped the room, thunder shaking the walls once more, and lightning streaking through the window. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears at the newfound silence, the TV screen now completely devoid of any reality show shenanigans.

“Oh, fucking great,” you mutter, trying to remember where you had last stashed your candles and flashlights. You pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to will your ever-growing annoyance away.

“I was following you.”

“What?”

You whipped your body towards Wade, your prior agreement forgotten. Good thing it was dark now.

“What do you mean you were following me?” You ask, no, demand. This has got to be another one of his horrendous jokes. He can’t be serious, right?

Right?

“Well Pumpkin-”

“No. No nicknames until you tell me what you meant. And no jokes either, Wade. I’m serious.”

There was a beat of hesitancy, then a heavy sigh. You could see the outline of his figure, but his exact features were still unknown. His shoulders slumped forward, almost as if in defeat.

Wade’s voice was soft, and he honored your demand of leaving humor out of the conversation. “I care about you. Like a lot. And I get worried that you’ll be put in danger because of my work.”  A streak of lightning lit up the room, and on instinct, you darted your eyes away from his face. “Sometimes, I keep an eye on you, make sure no one’s following you, or waiting for you here. There’s some really fucked up people that would hurt you or even-” He shook his head, not allowing his mind to entertain anything more sinister. “They’d use you to get to me, and if anything happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself.”

This admission should piss you off or leave you scrambling to get a restraining order. But this was Wade, your Wade, and this was his version of checking in on you, in his own messed up, nonsensical way.

You rested a hand on his, tracing his knuckles lightly. “Why didn’t you just tell me? And why did you dodge away? If you were honest about it, it would’ve been fine, I understand.”

Wade’s scarred fingers gripped your own. “I don’t know… didn’t want you gettin’ freaked out. My suit, while it brings out my curves-”

You roll your eyes, suppressing a smile. Can’t expect him to drop all humor.

“Doesn’t exactly blend in, and I dodged you ‘cause my face is all fucked up.”

“Wade, listen,” you said, taking both of his hands now. “I know this is your way of looking out for me , but just be honest, okay? It's sweet that you care so much.” You let go of his hands and rested them gently on either side of his face. He stiffened. “I’ve practically seen you naked, Wade. We skipped, like, bases one through three. I don’t think you look fucked up, and I would love to see the face of my best friend.”

Slowly, you curled your fingers under his mask. “Is this okay? It's still dark in here.”

Wade nodded, the action so small, you almost missed it. 

You slowly but surely peeled his mask off, and dropped it on the couch cushion behind him. His face felt just as scarred as the rest of his body, the raised and wounded flesh twisting beneath your fingertips. He didn’t have hair, something that slightly surprised you, but that was okay. You brought your hands back down to cup his cheekbones again, which were sharp and angular. 

Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed.

And you saw him. Briefly, but it was enough.

Fear swarmed his eyes at your possible rejection, even as his words held the opposite. “Hotter than you imagined?” Wade asked, giving a wink and a cheeky grin, an attempt to squash the anxiety swirling in his chest.

“Honestly…” 

His lips pulled down in a sharp pout, eyebrows creasing at the fact that you may be disgusted by him.

“Yeah, you are hotter than I thought you’d be,” You said, smiling as you held his face. “I care about you too, Wade. I mean it.”

Wade’s mouth parted in surprise, then a grin split into his face. “I think I’m in love with you,” he blurted.

Your hands dropped in surprise.

“What?”

[dpimagines]

MDNI | gn!reader. dirty talk. gunplay. suggestive

WADE WILSON has a lot of bad habits. running his mouth, for one. killing people, obviously. but his worst—his absolute favourite—is fucking with you. which is why you’re not even surprised when the cold press of a gun barrel kisses your cheek. “aww, will you look at that,” he croons, his voice jovial. chillingly, unnervingly sane. “a little bead of sweat right there—uh oh, is somebody nervous? or is it just my devastatingly sexy charm? i mean, i do have the face of a sexier ryan reynolds. and, statistically speaking, a bigger dick. not that you needed a reminder.” the barrel of the gun drags lower, tracing the curve of your cheekbone, down your throat, pausing in the dip of your collarbone. steel on skin, a teasing chill that leaves goosebumps blossoming in its wake. “relax, baby. pinky promise, i wouldn’t dream of pulling the trigger.” cue a dramatic pause.

“unless, y’know, you did something really naughty. like—oh, i dunno—ate the last chimichanga. or, worse, called me spider-man.” wade whistled, shaking his head emphatically. “actually, that one might get you shot and edged for hours.” the gun dips lower, skimming between your erect nipples. his free hand follows—hot where the metal is cold, fingertips barely ghosting over your stomach, lower still, grazing your inner thigh before pulling away.

“but real talk, is it fucked up that i’m turned on right now? not in an ‘oops, almost shot my partner’ kinda way, but more like a ‘we should film this and make a small fortune catering to a very specific audience’ kinda way.” the last part is addressed to the side of the wall where the tv is mounted, along with some sort of invisible camera. you roll your eyes, because what the fuck.

“man, this is fifty shades of fucked up. but hey, we like what we like. and i like… you.” his free hand catches your jaw, tilting your head up. the gun clatters to the floor, forgotten, as he leans in and planted a obnoxiously wet smooch to your cheek. he’s hard beneath his red and black tactical suit. you can feel it, thick and hot where he’s pressed up against your thigh.

then, just as quickly, he’s off you, flopping onto the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table. “alright, your turn, hot stuff, make a grown mercenary beg.” he purrs, stretching his arms. “or we can just skip to the part where you climb on top of me and ride me til i see god. no pressure though.” he shoots finger guns and a wink. “unless you like pressure. in which case, i am more than happy-”

“oh my god, wade.” you groan.

“aw fuck yeahh—baby, just like that. moan my name.” another conspiratorial wink at the invisible camera. “hey, kevin feige, buddy, let’s really push that r rating, huh?”

[dpimagines]

being an x reader writer and trying to be inclusive of all readers makes me overthink so much like should i write about you having smth with milk in it? no no what if the reader is lactose-intolerant. about the reader being the big spoon? noo what if they wanna be cuddled like a little spoon. about fingers through your hair? noooo what if the person reading it is bald

[dpimagines]

no thoughts just moving to a new apartment complex and meeting Wade in the hall at three in the morning a few days after settling in.

He’s coming back from the laundromat with his fuckass suit in one of those plastic bag thingies, wearing neon green crocs, a crop top that says “Dog mom” and a pistol tucked into the waistband of his sanrio pajama pants. As he walks past, he realizes he hasn’t seen you around before.

“Ohh, you must be the new neighbor!” He realizes, looking you up and down.

You’re much too sleep deprived to have any sort of filter at this time of night, so without thinking, you reply, “And you must be the reason rent is so low.”

Of course, you start mentally kicking yourself as soon as the words leave your mouth. That definitely should have been an inside thought.

Fuck. Why did you say that to a gun-toting stranger?? In an empty hallway during the night, no less!?

The guy- to your surprise and relief- seems delighted by your response, his eyes lighting up.

“Guilty. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

[dpimagines]

the four times they asked about his sidekick, and the one time he realized why. (pt.1)

worst!logan + d&w!deadpool x suicidal!reader

a/n : okay this is sad and emotion-driven asf, so if you're sensitive to suicide mentions or emotional trumoil and problems of self-worth please do not continue reading this. Also warning for suicide description for the other universes' sidekicks. first part out of five!

wc : 2k

TW FOR SUICIDE , TW FOR DEPRESSION , SOFT!WADE , SOFT!WORST!LOGAN , WADE BEING UNABLE TO LOOK AFTER A KID , HEAVY/MULTIPLE BATMAN AND JASON TODD REFERENCES , DEADPOOL VARIANTS FUSSING OVER READER. soft!worst logan . overprotective!deadpool . only-deadpool-still-with-sidekick!wade wilson

Think of Batman and Robin.

Yup. Now turn and twist it around some more and make it.. more chaotic, more unhinged. More morally questionable.

And then think of Deadpool. The merc with a mouth. The dude that chose a red suit just so he didn't have to bother about the red stains.

And then add up a teenager to the recipe. As chaotic as the man, maybe a bit naïver. And you've got Deadpool and his sidekick.

Because if all cool superheros had sidekicks, then Deadpool —albeit while not actively being a superhero. Had to have one too, didn't he?

And that's how you had ended up roped into all of his unethical adventures, killing off the bad guys that had the highest price above their head and helping Deadpool run the official Spideypool fanwebsite.

But, despite how many masks you put on, despite how many bad guys you killed, despite how many times you had saved someone. You were still just you.

A teenager. A teenager paired up with an older, unhinged, mercenary that ran his mouth way too much and that got you into way too much trouble.

A teenager paired up with an irresponsible adult without emotional responsability was the fucking equivalent of throwing a trained lab mouse inside the first maze that didn't have an exist.

Wade cared about you. Yeah, you knew that. But the problem was that you were a teenager and teenagers needed a certain amount of care to grow healthyly.

Because physically you were great, with how much running around and being-at-the-verge-of-death you did. But mentally? God, then you were the messiest mess in the planet.

Spending so much time with someone that had so many intrusive thoughts, that spilled his thoughts without filter, had rubbed off on you.

And sometimes you scared yourself when sudden thoughts popped up in your mind. Like the sudden pull in your legs anytime you walked near the edge of a roof, the "jump!" that flashed across your head. Or the way you wondered, asked yourself, what it would feel to be stabbed when you were cleaning Deadpool's katanas. Or the way you started to throw yourself at danger's way just for the thrill of it. And if you died, well, there went nothing.

It was wrong. It was bad. And it was a totally unhealthy and toxic vice. You knew you were self-destructive.

But you didn't know how to do doing anything about it.

You see, if Deadpool wasn't so reckless and careless maybe you would've told him. But since he did it, you grew into your late teens thinking it was okay.

,,

Lately, your thoughts had grew more dangerous. More specific. And you were starting to get scared of yourself. In movies, that was how villians started —with destructive thoughts. And you didn't want to become a villian.

What would Wade think of you? He'd be disappointed in you, hate your guts, despise you.

So your mind jumped to the quickest—and most self-destructive—conclussion. Offing yourself before that happened.

And you had nearly 10 pages of your pink diary written with ways of carrying on with that plan. Glitter gel pen words scribbled about the knifes in the house—their lengths and sharpness—, about the belts stacked away in Wade's closet, about the height of the fall from the balcony to the ground. You had everything planned.

And Wade hadn't caught onto anything of it, except for the fact you seemed more twitchy and on edge than usual. He tied it to the usual teenage anxiousness that came with your age.

He didn't know this was the last mission he was going to have you in.

,,

He had just brought you along on this 'adventure' just like he had did with all of the ones before, except in this one there was another.. —reluctant—companion.

Logan Howlett. The Wolverine.

And not the dead hero that Wade had unburied a few days before. No. This one was the worst variant of Wolverine in the whole multiverse, the one from the timeline where he killed all of the X-Men.

And that Howlett was smelling something coming.

He could smell the irony scent of blood whafting off of you, a bitter scent choking his airways. Your scent was way too bitter for how cheerful you were, except maybe you weren't.

This Logan had only barely known you for two days, but if something were to happen to you he'd kill the responsible, then find a way to kill the mercenary and then find a way to kill himself too.

But, first. Stop, pause, rewind. How this did even start?

,,

You groaned as you helped Wade drag the uncounscious body of the drunk Wolverine you had found in a random timeline —the only one in which the dude hadn't tried to kill you at first sight. Entering through the door-shaped orange portal to the TVA room.

"one anchor being coming right up!" Wade's voice rang through the air before the merc, fully dressed in his suit, had crossed the portal.

You let out a startled squeak when the antihero pretty much threw the uncounscious body of the Logan on the ground, wincing at the metallic sound of his skull against the floor.

"Wade!" you hissed. "c'mon pumpkin', don't sweat it. He's full metal, remember?" he said as he gave the drunk Logan a kick in the side, the metallic sound echoing his words.

"listen here, babygirl" the merc started, looking at the unimpressed man before him. "this Wolverine has the he-can-do-anything-even-musical-stuff look to him and bonus he's actually wearing the accurate comic costume. So, uh yeah, there, timeline saved"

The silence coming from the dude that had called Wade here in the first place didn't sound too good get it?. And as you sat there, poking the drunk man's face with your index finger while whispering for him to "wake up, Wolvie, rise and shine, wakey wakey?"

"I don't understand"

"You said my, our" he pointed at you "universe is dying because this nutsack died, well, problem solved" he now pointed at Logan.

"oh my god" Paradox breathed out. "you actually think you can replace an Anchor Being with this?"

Oh, great. A rant was comming. Like the ones your mother goes on when you mess up too many times.

"I wouldn't have accepted any other Wolverine BT dubs. But you.. have outdone yourself and brought me the worst Wolverine in the whole multiverse!"

It looked as if the dude's temple vein was going to pop, and you weakly interveened. "what do you mean the worst one..?" you breathed out.

"This Wolverine let down his entire world, he's the stuff of Legend but not in a good way and what he did.. well, some things are just beyond forgiveness"

A beat of silence followed, you knew the Wolverine on the floor had been awake and listening for the whole time. But then, you saw Paradox finally looking at you.

"wait"

"what?"

"is that your little sidekick?"

The incredulous, and cruelly amused, tone of the man in uniform made Wade quirk an eyebrow under his mask.

"yeah, why?"

His words were followed by a booming laugh coming from Paradox. His hand going to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, as chuckle after chuckle it just confused Wade and you even more.

"I can't believe you've still got her"

That was like a titty-flash for Wade, and not the good kind. He stood there, mouth gaping like a fish as he wildly and overexageredly gestured towards you.

"I gave you a chance at greatness, because my superiors deemed you special. But, I did my duty. I gave you the opportunity and you refused, so there's no more bussiness to do here"

And with that, and a strange remote control in his hand, he pressed a button and zapped you three off to somewhere. Leaving Wade with a strange taste lingering in his mouth.

Well, at least it seemed like your last adventure wasn't going to be boring.

(tags : @coocoocachewgotscrewed , @lokisloverisnthere , @krowsfoot , @lizziegraysworld , @r0reep , @beelzel-brat ).

[dpimagines]

So many “taking care of Logan after a long day” fics exist. Why not Wade?

Wade, who is canonically in constant chronic pain due to cancer ripping apart his cells and then being knitted back together by his healing factor. Who, in the comics, isn’t just scarred, but constantly has open wounds on every plane of his body. Whose brain is constantly being literally eaten by cancer and replaced and is tumultuous in his emotions at best (bipolar girly here, relatable). Who so desperately tries to be a good guy when he knows it matters the most. Who throws his all into protecting the people he holds dearest to him. Who is, in reality, doing one of the only jobs that accommodates his conditions, and is still doing it to take out people he believes are causing others harm.

Doesn’t he deserve to be greeted with a warm, reassuring hug and a soft kisses to his features? To be helped out of his suit as his body succumbs to the mounting exhaustion and relief at being at home, taken to a warm (but not hot) bath with a soothing soak blend you’d carefully researched to ease the discomfort of the ever-changing landscape of hills and valleys in his flesh? He knows you know that they don’t help him heal and certainly doesn’t prevent them from reappearing, but he likes to believe (or pretend) that it eases the itch and ache, if only for just a little while.

He likes it when you sit with him, asking gently probing questions about your day to get you talking and less concerned about him. And he likes hearing about your day, the mundane and even routine things that he lacks. He likes it when you offer to help wash the blood off of him, knowing that your careful hands will be gently massaging away at his aching muscles. It’s one of the few times he’s really quiet; letting your hands work off the red to leave behind Wade, just Wade.

When you help him out of the bath, leaving him to the bedroom with his favorite pajama pants and one of seemingly unending shirts with phrases like I GOT MY CLIT PIERCED AT CLAIRE’S or I MAY BE STUPID, you return to the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven. Some kind of one-sheet-pan recipe you’d looked up earlier in the day while you were at work. Whatever it is, it smells amazing from in the bedroom, and he quickly comes out to wrap his arms around your waist and lean over your shoulder to take a deeper whiff, calling you Martha Stewart and Guy Fieri’s bastard scandal child or asking if you were extracted straight out of Gordon Ramsey’s left nut.

You have a lovely dinner with Wade singing your praises the entire time, and god, it knocks him right out. Do not let that man go sit on the couch after a good, filling meal like that, because that is where he will pass out and you couldn’t move him with a forklift. Take him by both hands, lead him into the bedroom, get him on the bed (let him make his comments, they are unavoidable whether he’s horny or not), turn the lights off, and crawl under the covers with him. Press your body as close to his as possible; he’ll probably want to be skin to skin if he can stay awake long enough to get you both out of your clothes. And to perhaps everyone’s surprise except yours, it’s really not all that sexual in nature. He finds the smoothness of your skin soothing against his own, and he runs a little cold, so he finds refuge in the warmth you provide. He likes to pull the covers up to your noses and kiss you under the blankets like you’re hiding some big secret, making you giggle as he shushes you to keep quiet.

His favorite place to sleep on nights like this is with his ear against your chest; the sound of your heart still beating and your lungs still pulling in air is a great comfort to him. If it’s comfortable, he’ll want to fall asleep with your fingers lazily entwined, and pro tip— he finds it incredibly relaxing to have you run your fingertips along his palm, down his wrist and up in the inside of his forearm then all the way back down until he falls asleep. Congratulations, you’ve got yourself a content and quiet Wade all to yourself until morning. Enjoy it. Make sure you kiss his cheeks and nose and forehead while you’re at it; it makes him smile in his sleep.

[dpimagines]

Hot Date (Blind Date pt. 2)

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for the amazing show of support for Blind Date! I've never received so much support and appreciation for a fic, EVER! Words cannot express how grateful I am.

SYNOPSIS: Your second date with Wade went well, so now it's time for the third. (And what could be considered the fourth.)

WARNINGS: Smut, reader has been cheated on in the past, everything else is standard Deadpool antics.

Your second date went just as well as the first — most of the words you asked for him to provide were swear words, hilariously enough. It’s not that you’ve never heard them before, though. You lose words if you haven’t heard them in a while, not to mention how loudly curses are often said. 

Now, it’s time for date number three, known in popular culture as the make-or-break date: you’ll agree (or disagree) to be exclusive, it’s socially acceptable to start having sex, all that fun (terrifying) stuff. You’ve had some casual coffee and lunch hangouts between your second date and now, but tonight will be your third official date.  

He doesn’t have any expectations, of course. He could tell from what you said on the first date that you’ve been hurt in the past.

 Who could bring themselves to hurt you? Wade thinks as he daydreams about your shy smile, your variety of laughters to offer him, your soft cardigans and sweaters, the silly faces you make at babies in public, and the sharp glares you give strangers when they stare at him for too long (oh, and the ones he gives them when he catches them staring at you.) 

He even finds his thoughts wandering to the way you speak to him — sure, you can’t pick the tones of the words, but your choice of them is all yours. You’re kind, clever, and honest in your words, in everything you do. 

Oh, shit, he realizes, his stomach dropping. I’m in love. 

You’d insisted on planning your date this time around, since he’d planned the previous two. You told him you’d be having a picnic and to make sure he dressed warm since fall is on its way and the nights are growing colder. He assured you that his healing factor made him run hot, but you insisted that he at least bring a jacket. 

He texts you, confirming you’re still on for dinner. You reply positively, but reading your text only has him missing your eclectic voice, or, rather, voices. Over the past few weeks, more and more of your words have been taken from him, but he still loves to hear the random country or British accent, the occasional shout… 

Your suggestive exclamations have completely faded from your vocabulary, interestingly enough. Wade may be softening up a little due to his relationship with you, but his more perverted side can’t help but wonder if it’s because you’ve started to prefer your imagination over what videos on the internet have to offer. Do you think about him? He definitely thinks about you, especially his hypothesis on the way you’d sound. Low, masculine grunts shifting to high-pitched, over the top whines and back, all for him.

Someone smacks him upside the head. 

“You’re daydreaming again. Why don’t you just go see her? She’s just as sickeningly obsessed with you,” Ellie complains, coming around the couch and plunking down on the opposite end. 

“Really?” he wonders. You’re super nice, sure, and you’ve agreed to continue seeing him despite, well, everything about him, but…

She rolls her eyes, smacking her gum. 

“Dude, yes. It’s annoying. She’s working right now, but I bet she’d appreciate the company. You remember where her office is, don’t you?”

Wade nods, getting up and taking off towards it. He has to keep himself from running, he’s so giddy. 

He knocks on your office door. 

“Just a minute,” you reply from inside. 

You open it, smiling once you realize who’s come to visit. 

��Hi, Wade,” you greet him. 

“Who’s that?” he asks. The voice with which you said his name is entirely unfamiliar. 

“Oh, I’ve been experimenting with AI voices,” you explain. “I figured it’d be WEIRD for you to keep hearing Ellie and Yukio say your name when it’s me.”

“A little weird, yeah, but it doesn’t bother me too much.”

You turn a little pink, your smile widening awkwardly. 

“Oh, you meant-! Yeah, no, that’d be kind of uncomfortable. I appreciate the effort. Sorry to bug you like this, I- Well, speaking of Ellie, she caught me daydreaming about you and told me I should just come see you.”

“Remind me to thank her later,” you reply. “It’s nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, I mean, of course it is, or I wouldn’t have come, well, um…” He’s gotten better about talking around you, but he still trips all over his words. “Yeah. What are you up to?”

“I’ve actually had some down time today, so I’ve been working on-” You stop, grimacing as your happy blush deepens to an embarrassed one. You’ve lost the words. 

“Wanna show me?” he asks, grateful for the excuse to learn more about what you do. You nod, leading him to your desk. You sit down in the office chair and roll over, leaving him room to stand beside you. He looks back and forth between your monitors – on the one off to the side, a video of one of the Xavier’s School classrooms with subtitles by you; on the center monitor, a document with notes and practice questions. 

“A study guide,” he realizes, reading the title of the document. 

“Yes, a study guide,” you repeat. “Thank you. I noticed a lot of the students struggle when school starts up again, so I thought I’d take the time to put one together for the classes that don’t already have one.”

“That’s so awesome! Seems like you’re pretty busy, though. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree. 

And later, you do. Wade wanders around the courtyard looking for you, finding you sitting on a blanket with electric tealights spread all over it. The sun is just barely starting to set, but the extra light is nice nonetheless, not to mention how adorably romantic it all is. 

He jogs over to you, sitting next to you and finally taking in what you’ve put together. It has to be every kind of cheese known to mankind, like, eight different kinds of deli meat, and an insane amount of Club crackers, not to mention the strands of juicy green grapes curled in the corners, avocado slices, and even a pomegranate! 

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you tell him. “I was inspired by our conversation the other day about charcuterie boards and how we wish we could just eat them as meals. I also remembered what you said about your healing factor and how hungry it makes you.”

“No, no, this is perfect,” he breathes. No one’s ever done something so nice for him before. “Uh, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

Your face goes pale, eyes widening. You’re bracing yourself for something, but what? Oh, no. You think this is going in the exact opposite direction from where it is. 

“No, it’s good, I mean, maybe. I just wanted to know if you were cool with the idea of us being exclusive. Y’know, not seeing other people? Going steady?” His elaborations get weaker as you stare at him, still wide-eyed. You lips part, and you…

You cackle wildly, gasping for air. You try to stifle it, holding onto his shoulder as the laughter completely overtakes you. Is the idea of being with him so humorous to you?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say once your hysterics wind down. “Wade, do you really think I’d be seeing anyone else?”

“Well, you’re very pretty… And nice… And funny…” he explains. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Well, one: I really like you. I’ve never felt so strongly about someone before. Two: you are the only one interested in me.”

“I just can’t believe that. Either thing,” he replies. 

“You better believe it, because my answer is yes, Wade, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Awesome, that’s… Awesome. Cool,” he stumbles over his words. He wants to say more, but you’re smiling so widely that he’s concerned for your cheek muscles. You’re even more beautiful to him when you’re happy.  It puts a lump in his throat. How can you possibly be interested in him? You’re not just devastatingly beautiful, you’re a good person. He tries to be, but he feels like the scum of the earth next to you. 

“I’m starving, let’s eat!” you playfully scold him, gesturing to the board. He takes in the platter once more, and finds his eyes watering at the amount of thought you must’ve put into this. “Well, you can’t eat with that thing on. Come on, it’s just us, and…” You trail off.

“Need help?” he offers. You shake your head. 

“Just feeling shy,” you admit. 

“No need to be shy around me, I’ve seen and heard it all,” he assures you. 

“I guess that’s part of the reason why. I can’t say the same,” you reply, your cheeks turning a little pink as your smile becomes sheepish. 

Wade finally takes his mask off, figuring it’s an equivalent exchange for your show of vulnerability. You grin, scooping some brie onto a cracker before adding a chunk of turkey and passing it to him. He gratefully accepts it, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss to your temple. He leaves his arm around you, and you adjust your posture, getting comfortable in your place by his side. You put together a cracker of your own. 

The two of you go on like that for a while, creating combinations of cheese and meat on crackers, some bordering on sacrilege, before he finally finds his words again. He always seems to be at a loss for words when faced with you. 

“I don’t mind, y’know,” he starts. “I mean, that you haven’t been in a lot of relationships and all that entrails. Sorry, I meant entails. I usually talk more about entrails.”

You giggle. 

“Are you sure? I just don’t want you to be bored,” you reply. “You’ve had a very exciting life so far. I like the simple things… Like picnics at sunset.”

“I’m learning to appreciate them a lot more. Don’t get me wrong, there’s definitely going to come a day when I drag you onto a beach vacation, or to an even swankier restaurant than De Luca, or whatever… But I like this, too. I like it a lot.” And I love you, he thinks. It’s way too soon to be saying something like that, isn’t it? “Besides, exciting doesn’t always mean fun. When we’re together, I have fun.”

“Me, too,” you agree bashfully. “What I was wanting to say before was that I think you’re beautiful. I like your face and your hands.”

“Kinda specific,” he remarks, trying to avoid the compliment. 

“They’re all I’ve seen. Well, other than your voice. I like that, too.”

“It sounds better coming from you,” he deflects once more, but you don’t fight him this time, instead blushing. “I like your voice. I know you don’t feel like it’s yours, but it is to me. The way you speak tells part of your story, just like an accent does.” He’s tempted to admit hearing your words in his voice satisfies his possessive streak, but despite how cute you are when you’re nervous, he doesn’t want to frighten you.

When you don’t respond, he’s worried he’s somehow done it anyway. He looks up from the platter to see your hand clamped over your mouth, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m so-”

You shake your head fervently. 

“That’s the nicest thing someone’s ever said to me about my voice,” you clarify, sniffling as you awkwardly chuckle, trying to laugh it off. “I’m sorry for getting emotional.”

“Never be sorry for that,” he insists, squeezing you closer to him. “The only thing I dislike about what you just said is that no one’s ever said something so nice to you about one of the things that makes you… You. I love you, so that really bothers me.”

Your mouth falls open, and once he realizes what he said, he wants to stick his foot in his. 

“I’m-”

“I love you, too,” you tell him. It’s all in his voice. 

Wade can’t help but kiss you. When it comes to you, he normally tries to be a gentleman and ask first, but the adoration in your eyes, the red tint to your cheeks, the hint of a smile on your parted lips… It’s all too much. You kiss him back just as eagerly, your lips moving against each other until you’re on your back with him slotted between your legs. You cling to him for dear life, your hands clutching his hoodie like if you let go he’ll float away. 

He can’t believe how good your body feels against his, his hands laced in your hair as your chests press together like your hearts are trying to touch each other. 

The two of you break for air, both with awestruck smiles and flushed faces. 

“Do you… Want some help with that?” you ask, face turning redder. He scrambles to sit up, suddenly aware of his pre-dick-ament. You sit up, too, though much more gracefully.

“Have you ever..? Sorry, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. I just want to do right by you.”

“Fair enough… I have, but only once. It didn’t go well. After that, it was just-” You pause, but he doesn’t offer to help this time, not wanting to rush you. You blow air out of your mouth. “Until I gained some self-respect and broke up with him.”

His jaw drops.

“Well, that’s not entirely true. He cheated on me and then I dumped him.” 

“Someone cheated on you?! I guess what they say is true, then – it doesn’t matter how gorgeous you are or what all you do for somebody, if they’re a cheating piece of shit, they’re a cheating piece of shit.”

Your smile is bittersweet as you respond: 

“At least I know I’m good at-” You blow air out of your mouth again. “Even if I don’t have practice with other things.”

“I believe you, but I’m not taking you up on it this time around. First time’s definitely going to be all about you. You deserve it,” Wade informs you. “And, uh, I think I want to wait a little longer before that,” he adds, surprising even himself. “Not that you’re not totally hot – I really like you and Little Wade does, too, but…”

“You don’t have to give me a reason. We should wait until we’re both ready,” you assure him, putting a comforting hand on his knee. He kisses you again, more chastely this time. 

“Thanks,” he says.

“I’d like some advanced notice, anyways, so I can make sure I’m adequately stocked,” you reply– flirtatiously, but in an intentionally goofy way based on the way your eyebrows waggle –tapping on your neck in the general area of your vocal cords. He can’t help but laugh at that, and you join in, making his volume double. 

“Don’t worry about that. I mean, if it’d make you more comfortable, go for it, but… I don’t need you to do that, seriously,” he insists. 

“Well, I’d rather not wail just because you kissed my neck and that’s the closest thing I have to an appropriate sound.” 

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “Now, let’s polish off the rest of this charcuterie board.”

“I can’t eat another bite. Have at it, I’ll just cuddle with you if that’s okay.”

“More than,” he assures you. You lean on his shoulder as he finishes it off. He babbles throughout, but eventually your lack of response becomes concerning. 

Wade turns his head to find that you’ve fallen asleep. He’d sit perfectly still all night just to make sure that you weren’t disturbed, but you had a point earlier. It’s pretty chilly, you could get sick if you slept out here without anything but your jeans and sweater to keep you warm. 

“Y/N,” he hums, stroking your face. You stir, face scrunching in distaste for being awoken. He giggles. “It’s time to head back in, cutie.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” you groggily grumble, though your tone doesn’t reflect that, reaching for the basket as you sit up. 

“I got it,” he says, gently batting your hand away. “Go on up to your room, I’ll meet you there once I’ve got this picked up.”

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

“Yeah, hon, I’ve got it.”

You get up from the blanket, ambling back to the house sleepily. Wade tosses the grape stems to the treeline hoping some bird or something will enjoy it before he pushes the board off of your picnic blanket. He folds said blanket, tucking it into its matching basket. He carries both the board and the basket back to the house, eventually catching up with you due to your slow pace. 

You open your door, and he follows you in. 

“Where do you want them?” he asks, looking around. Your room is cluttered, but not necessarily dirty or messy, just filled with things: pictures, curios, crystals, dried flowers… Pretty things. Fitting, he supposes, because it’s your room. 

“Where ever is fine. I’ll deal with it in the morning,” you answer. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Thanks for dinner, it was great.”

“You don’t have to go. Just because we’re not sleeping together doesn’t mean we can’t sleep together,” you offer. “It’s late.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” he says, kicking himself for giving you an out and appreciating himself for it at the same time. 

“Very sure,” you assure him. “I have some- Some tee shirts a man can wear.”

“Men’s?” he offers. You nod gratefully. 

“It’s what I usually wear to bed,” you explain, tossing him one before pulling another out of your dresser, shucking your pants and taking off your sweater while still turned around. Wade yelps, turning around himself. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you remind him. He swiftly gets into the tee shirt you offered him, feeling the heat in his cheeks. Even your back is pretty, goddamn it. 

“Haven’t seen you,” he says as he turns around, eyes still downcast as he joins you under the covers. 

“I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal for you, I’m sorry.” 

“Didn’t you hear me earlier when I said I love you?” he half-jokes. 

“Yeah, I did, which is why I’m insisting on cuddling,” you declare. “I love you, too, and I want cuddles in exchange for it.”

“Is that so? I like sleepy you. She’s demanding, I’m into it.”

“Oh!” you squeak. “Not too demanding, I hope.”

“Not even a little,” he assures you, pulling you into his arms. 

It’s the easiest time he’s had falling asleep in a long time. Possibly ever. 

When he wakes, you’re still beside him, but you hover, propped on your arm as you gaze at him with downright eerie fascination. 

“Your scars move,” you say. “I didn’t notice it before, but it’s faster when you’re sleeping.” 

“Yeah, part of the whole cancer constantly fighting itself thing,” he mumbles, sheepish under your scrutiny, no matter how gentle it is. The next thing he’s hyper-aware of is the pain in his groin. 

You follow his gaze. 

“You weren’t exaggerating,” you remark, a smug, pleased look on your face. “Are you sure you don’t want any help with that? It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“How about tonight?” he offers. This is the second time you’ve offered yourself to him, so he doesn’t want to turn you down. It’s not that he feels pressured, though. Rather, he’s coming to terms with the fact that you really want him like that – not even just that you’re attracted to him, but you trust him that much despite being hurt so badly before in what was clearly a long-term relationship, maybe even your only one. “Is that enough notice?”

“Plenty. It’s a weekend, so I have all day to listen to-”

“Don’t wear yourself or your vibrator out,” Wade cuts you off, excited to inform you: “I happen to think of those as teammates, not competition.”

You smile, blushing. 

“Understood.”

“Is it alright if I go ahead and head out? I’m supposed to meet Logan and Laura for breakfast.”

“Of course. What time do you want to meet up later?”

“Do you want to get dinner first?”

“Shit. I’m supposed to have dinner with Ellie and Yukio, Yukio’s dads are in town and- Well, I guess that means I don’t have all day. How about seven, to give me time?”

“Sure, but-”

“I know. I want to, it’ll make me feel better.”

“If you insist. See you later, cutie.”

“Later,” you echo. 

Later rolls around and you have your headphones on. 

“Fuck me harder,” the voice actress whines. 

“Fuck me harder,” you echo, biting your lip at how illicit it sounds. Hopefully he likes it. You practice the little moans and gasps you’ve heard, making sure they sound right and aren’t too different from each other. 

There’s a knock at the door. Surely it’s him. You stop the audioporn track, setting your headphones and phone aside. You peek under your skirt at the black lace-trimmed panties you’re wearing. You don’t have much red in your underwear collection, so hopefully he’s happy with the mismatched set you’re wearing, your previously-mentioned black bottoms with a red bralette. 

You answer the door. 

“Wade,” you say, unable to hold back the grin on your face. He’s quickly become your favorite person with his outrageous sense of humor, his constant stream of new words for you to say– one of your favorites is chucklefuck, you even repeat it to yourself when you’re alone just to make sure you don’t lose it –his textured skin, his radiant smile, and… Oh, crap, he’s been talking, hasn’t he?

“I’m sorry, I got lost in thought. What were you saying?” you ask, cringing at yourself. 

“I was just saying that if you’re starting to psych yourself out, we don’t have to do this. Guessing I was right.”

“Not at all. I really want you,” the last bit comes out as a moan, and you remember the exact context in which you heard it. Maybe Brat Begs for Her Master’s Cock wasn’t a good decision, it was especially wordy ��� you’re probably going to have to sort that out of your vocabulary for the next week. You just wanted to make sure there was enough kink in your repertoire – Wade’s reputation precedes him. 

“Well, if you’re sure… Let’s get to it, I guess.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, concerned. He nods, and you pull him into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. “It’s been a while, how exactly do we get started?”

“Hm, a little something like this,” he hums fondly before pressing his lips to yours. You love the way he kisses, it’s so overpowering that it feels like nothing else exists, just him and you. You melt in his hands, needy little whimpers forcing their way out of you as they caress your jaw before wandering down to your waist, a few teasing, curious touches along the way driving you wild. 

His lips trail down to your neck and you gasp as his tongue swirls against your skin. 

“Not too long,” you warn him, the last word in breathless excitement.  

“Of course,” he assures you. “Can’t have a few hickeys ruining your reputation.”

You nod, and he places his next kiss in the curve between your neck and shoulder. He carefully introduces his teeth to the equation and your knees almost give out as a high-pitched whine leaves your lips. You clutch his back for purchase, and he leads you backwards into the bed, the two of you laying there together like you were yesterday evening. He’s right there between your legs and you can feel his excitement growing as you paw at him, needing to be even closer than you already are. 

He unbuttons one button of your blouse before looking to you for permission to continue. 

“Yes,” you agree, and despite the tone itself being over-the-top, he only smiles as he reveals your body to him. 

“Red,” he murmurs. “Just for me?”

“Just for you,” you concur, only the last word being a moan due to his interference. “You were supposed to let me say that,” you half-heartedly complain. He chuckles. 

“I kinda like it more when it’s in my voice. Reminds me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agree. “I’m all yours.”

“You spoil me,” he replies fondly before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your breast. He takes his time, not even pushing one of the thin cups aside until you’re whining and rocking against him. He flicks his tongue against your nipple and the sensation sends sparks through you. You arch into his mouth with the same high-pitched moan as before. He chuckles, switching to the other. 

You’re already shaking and you have no doubt that you’re embarrassingly wet. Hell, even last night’s makeout session, which hardly qualified as one, left your underwear damp. He urges you up, helping you out of your shirt. He goes to take off your bra, but you stop him. 

“You wanna stop?” he asks, his hand quickly making its way to cup your face comfortingly. 

You shake your head, nudging him off of you so you can take off your skirt. 

“Just for me?” he asks again, looking pleasantly surprised. 

“Just for you,” you repeat. 

“You’re so thoughtful. It’s one of the things I love most about you,” he informs you. 

“You can take it off now. Or them, whatever you choose.”

He snickers. 

“Let’s start with the bra for now,” he decides, reaching behind you for the clasp. He fumbles around, looking for it for a bit until you’re both laughing. You pull the bralette over your head for him. It then hits you then that you’re mostly naked and he’s mostly clothed. You pout, batting your eyelashes as you look him up and down. 

He gets the message and huffs out another laugh, getting off the bed to take off his shirt and jeans. 

Holy fuck, he’s ripped. If you weren’t bright red before, you are now. You should’ve expected it, what with his metabolism and super-strength and all that, but… Wow! 

“That bad, huh? I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“No,” you quickly disagree. “You look amazing.”

“You, too,” he replies, his eyes lighting up at the erotic tone of your last spoken word. 

“Come back,” you urge him. It’s getting to the point where every other word or so is a moan. He doesn’t seem to mind, if anything, he likes it. 

“Say it again. ‘Come.’”

“Come,” you reply, unamused. “You forgot the rules, didn’t you?”

“Oops,” he says with a giggle. “That’s alright. ‘Cause the next time you say that word, it’s gonna be because of me. It being in my voice will only be a reminder of that fact.”

You shudder, leaning back and opening your legs up a little more as a reminder that he should really rejoin you in bed right now. His nose twitches and his eyebrows furrow. 

“Wade?”

“I have… An enhanced sense of smell.”

“Oh, is it… bad? I mean, I took a shower and drank water and all that, but-”

“No, baby, you smell so good, just… Really strong, like...” He presses his hand to your most private place and you can’t help but squeak – between everything he’s said and done, the content you were consuming before his arrival, and how long it’s been… You’re unbelievably sensitive. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?” you ask. 

“You’re so… I like foreplay, sure, and you deserve it, but aren’t you getting frustrated? If you need me, you should tell me.”

Once you get over your breathlessness at the last thing he said, you explain yourself:

“I like what we’re doing. Why would I stop you?”

“Aren’t you aching down here?” he wonders, pressing his hand firmer against you for emphasis. 

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you tell him, a little embarrassed at the variation in your moans. 

He smiles, though, caressing your thighs in a teasingly gentle way.

“Then maybe I should go ahead and show you the real reason they call me the Merc with a Mouth. You’re not the only one who knows how to give a blowy.”

He hooks his fingers in your panties and drags them down your legs with your attempted assistance as you try to move them in helpful ways. He props your legs open before finally rejoining you in bed, this time with his mouth… Oh, his mouth, it’s…

A symphony of pleasured sounds flows out of you, some cheap and overexaggerated and some a little more realistic. 

“Good girl, tell me how much you like it,” he says, before returning his lips and tongue to you just as swiftly as they left. 

“I fucking love it,” you reply, gasping for air. “No one’s ever done this to me before.”

He’s got his face buried between your thighs, moaning and groaning as he tastes you. When your eyes aren’t clenched shut from pleasure, you see him grinding his hips into the comforter for friction. Holy shit, he really likes this, doesn’t he? 

Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as fire courses through your veins and you feel yourself getting higher and higher.

“I’m close, Wade, I’m gonna- Gonna come,” you tell him. He holds onto your thighs, keeping you right in place as you unravel, forcing you to take what he’s giving you. The sounds you’re making are chaos, you think, but you realize as you come down that that’s what he thrives on. 

“It’s too much,” you whine as you start to get overstimulated, when it feels so good it hurts. He hesitantly pulls away, panting a little himself. 

“How was that?” he asks.

“Amazing. Couldn’t- You- Tell?” 

He grins. 

“Wanna keep going?” 

“Fuck me,” you implore him. “Please.”

“Yes, ma’am! Let me see here…” he fishes in the pockets of his discarded jeans, finding a condom. He holds it up, and like a magic trick, the interconnected packets fall down, leaving you both with a whole ribbon of them. After tearing off one, he tosses the others onto the bed beside you. “I doubt we’ll go through all those tonight, but I’d appreciate it if you kept the rest in the nightstand.”

You nod, still catching your breath from the previous round as he rolls it on. 

“I’m gonna use my fingers first,” he informs you. You nod, your breathlessness now in anticipation of what he’ll do next. He gently pushes one inside you. It feels bigger than it really is as he carefully slides it in and out before curling it right against-

He smiles in response to your pleasured exclamation. 

“You sound so pretty, honey,” he hums, “Ready for another?” 

“Yeah,” you agree. He repeats the same motions as before but with a second finger. “Holy fucking shit, so good.” 

“We’re barely getting started,” he reminds you, but he doesn’t seem displeased with your eager sounds as he adds a third finger into the mix. 

“So full,” you moan. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You know just what to say, don’t you, baby? I know you can take it, though. You're such a good girl, aren’t you?” 

“I try,” you reply. 

“You succeed,” he confirms. “Do you still want-”

“Yes, please, I’m ready,” you cut him off, starting to get impatient. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, but you want more, you want all of him. You’ve never been so greedy before, but you just can’t help it. Just as you're his, he’s yours. No one’s ever really been yours before and you want to experience it for all that it's worth. 

“Alrighty, then. You should be careful, though — I’m trying to be all nice and gentlemanly and all that, but if you keep looking at me like that I might lose control.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” you half-flirt, half-wonder, propping yourself up to look at him once he removes his fingers from you. He’d never hurt you in a way that you didn’t want him to, not intentionally. Would it really be so bad for him to give in to his baser urges and just pound you until you cry and then some? You don’t think so.

“Oh, I get it, you’ve been holding out on me. I guess I should’ve known, the geeky types are always total freaks in the sheets,” he remarks. 

“I wanted to be gentle with you, too,” you explain. “I know you’re just as nervous as I am, just for different reasons.” 

“Not that different,” he admits. “Are you really sure?”

“Mhm,” you hum, trying to meet his downcast eyes. “I want you. Really… I’ve really never felt this way before.”

“Me, either. Don’t wanna fuck it up.”

“Then fuck me instead,” you tease, knowing he doesn’t like to linger on the deeper subjects for too long. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees with a smile, lining himself up with your entrance. You’re really glad he used his fingers first, because there’s no way his member would even be close to fitting inside you if he hadn’t. He eases in, checking every inch or so to make sure you’re still comfortable. 

You're still propped up on your hands, your eyes flicking between his face and his dick as it sinks further and further into you. You lift one hand and bring his forehead to yours, your labored breaths intermingling as he enters you. You keep your hand on the back of his neck, stroking him — you’re not sure if the motion is supposed to comfort you or him, but it feels good. 

“Is it okay for me to move?” 

You nod into him, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. It feels so good to connect with someone like this, to connect with him like this. 

He slides back and forth, it’s mind-boggling to watch something so large disappear into you. 

“You feel so good, baby, fuck,” he groans.

“You feel so good,” you echo, eyes scrunching shut as he picks up the pace. Your other hand rises from the bed and now you’re holding onto him as he thrusts, hitting that amazing place deep inside over and over again. You’re once again making mismatched sounds of ecstasy, his own grunts and groans working their way into your lexicon and making them even more diverse. 

He wraps an arm around you, helping you to stay balanced. 

“Touch yourself for me, sweetheart, I wanna feel you like that, please, please make yourself come all over my cock,” he nearly begs. 

“Yes, sir.” You remove your hand from where it was bracing on his neck, leaving the other draped around his shoulders as you start to stroke your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, shit, you-“ You feel him twitch inside of you. “Just a second, I… Oh, god.”

“You weren’t kidding,” you reply as he carefully pulls out, tying off and disposing of the condom before getting another one ready. 

“Honestly, I was, but- I mean, the refractory period is legit. I am so sorry, seriously, you- You just pushed a button that hasn’t been pushed in a while, goddamn, I- Say it again, please, if- If it’s not too much to-”

“Sir,” you repeat, grateful that he remembered the rules this time so you can elicit the right response from him. 

“There we go. Right as rain,” he says, jostling his re-hardened member in his hand comedically before rolling on a new condom. “Still-”

“Please,” you cut him off. “Please fuck me, Wade.” It’s all in his voice. You love the sound of his voice, but damn him for talking so much after you put all that effort into making sure you had a good catalogue for tonight! 

He cups your face and kisses you once again before entering you once more. You touch yourself as he thrusts in and out of you, no longer able to watch as your eyes clench shut — it’s everything you need and it’s too much. Fuck, it’s too much, you feel like he’s gonna break you, or you’re gonna break yourself. 

“That’s my good girl, you feel even better when you do that, squeezing around me just right,” he pants, continuing his erotic rambling. Every word gets you closer, even the ones you can’t process due to just how good this feels. 

“It’s- I’m- Come, gonna come again, oh, fuck, ah, please, Wade…” Your voice is steadily becoming more from him than what you watched earlier, but that only increases his fervor. 

“Love it when you talk in my voice, love the way you love me,” he replies, just as locked-in. That’s how he sees it? It almost brings you to tears in the best way, you’re so touched.

“Oh, god,” you murmur, just as he did before, but you really wanna scream it as you claw his back, desperate to cling to something physical as you reach the pinnacle of bliss. 

He stills as well, pushed as deep inside of you as he can go as you come down. You fall back into the bed, thoroughly worn out. 

He pulls out once more, repeating the same actions as earlier when taking care of the condom. He takes the unopened packages from beside you and tucks them into your bedside table. 

“Wanna go again?” he offers cheekily. 

“We don’t all have healing factors,” you remind him with a sigh. “Fuck, that was… Amazing.” 

“Was there anything you didn’t like?” he asks.

“No. What about you?”

“Getting overexcited and- Well, y’know.”

“I thought it was sweet,” you reassure him. 

“Anything you liked in particular?”

“What you said about when I talk in your voice,” you admit. “You?”

“I meant it,” he quickly says, like he’s scared you thought it was just pillow talk. “I could list a lot of things that I liked in particular, but I really- I loved it all.”

“Me, too.” you reply. You hold open your arms and he eagerly takes his place there. 

The two of you take a while to fall asleep, giddiness and excitement still buzzing in the air at your newfound love, but eventually you make it there.

[dpimagines]

trying so hard to be normal about deadpool but he's so hOT AH. sure the excessive pet names and the flirting could maybe MAYBE become a little annoying but he's so smooth with it it's not even a problem. i'm also shamelessly attracted to the suit itself like come ON. he's so funny. HOT. he's strong but would probably try to be so gentle with you even though he doesn't have to and that's so sweet he's so sweet. he's so strong and sturdy he'd be able to move you against him way too easily. he's so strong and durable and can take so much and oh my GOD it's hard to not think about it. him asking, no, begging you to hit him harder because he can take it! he'll survive! he wants to feel pain from your hands! needs it even! and who are you to say no when he's offering himself up to you on such a nice silver platter? <3

[dpimagines]

The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”

Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀

Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.

You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes. 

At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan. 

You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence. 

“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go. 

Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much. 

He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin. 

“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered. 

“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”

Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.

“What? No. That’s crazy!”

You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further. 

He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.  

“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”

He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting. 

“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds. 

“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”

Phew. Got outta that one, then. 

He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed. 

“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”

Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses. 

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”

You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on. 

“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”

He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips. 

“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”

You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself. 

Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.

You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong. 

“WHAT THE FUCK—!”

Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace. 

“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”

You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself. 

“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”

You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”

Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look. 

“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”

“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused. 

“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”

“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood. 

He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal. 

“Oh my god…”

“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining��”

From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right. 

Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic. 

But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret. 

If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.

As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair. 

It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again. 

…right?

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[dpimagines]

riding wade after you had a bad day and he puts you in a bear hug :(( cooing "i'm not leavin... 'm not leavin you sweet girl, 's okay. take what you want from me honey, whatever you want from wade, sweetheart" in the sweetest tone in your ear :(((

[dpimagines]

omgggg I can't believe this fic is picking up traction again. thank you for reblogging! I promise more and better is coming soon

Well, That’s One Way to Start a Relationship; Wade Wilson

notes: hey! welcome to my first post on this blog! ‘sup! this fic is something I’ve had finished in my google docs for a while, but had no idea where to post! then, I made this blog, so I decided to polish it up and post it! enjoy! 

warnings/details: dubcon (sex pollen), age gap/underage if you squint, virgin!reader, masturbation, oral sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, just… just really dirty, okay? I originally wrote this on my period, and I get incredibly horny on my period. You’re welcome for that info. 

Keep reading

[dpimagines]

omg stop ittttt this is literally so old 🫣 I will write more and better soon I promise! tysm for the support!!

Well, That’s One Way to Start a Relationship; Wade Wilson

notes: hey! welcome to my first post on this blog! ‘sup! this fic is something I’ve had finished in my google docs for a while, but had no idea where to post! then, I made this blog, so I decided to polish it up and post it! enjoy! 

warnings/details: dubcon (sex pollen), age gap/underage if you squint, virgin!reader, masturbation, oral sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, just… just really dirty, okay? I originally wrote this on my period, and I get incredibly horny on my period. You’re welcome for that info. 

Keep reading

[dpimagines]

deadpool / wade wilson p links!

17+ minors do not interact or click the links! you are responsible for your own media consumption. each link contains porn, and all links are from twitter. you must be logged in to twitter for the links to work!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

wade treats you so good after a long day pt.2

making needy! wade cum in his underwear

breeding kink with husband! wade

size kink & tummy bulge with big dick! wade

wade looovess making a mess of you pt.2

wade making you squirt pt.2

jerking him off

pegging sub! wade

the type of shit wade is DEFINITELY in to

wade LOVES to tease you

tying him up

wade definitely has photos of you like this in his phone

making wade breakfast

taking his punishment so well

creampie pt.2

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

taglist: @bluevclvet @tvwebs @muteprincess @blckbarbiedoll @dwthisuserisalive @catts-world @helpyourself-9 @tiredemzz @starstruckracc @imcrying24 @aintsoprettynow @thedevilsaysthings @darerlin @tokkiwrites

[dpimagines]

Blind Date

SYNOPSIS: Wade is set up with a friend of Ellie's and Yukio's. It goes better than anyone expected it to.

Warnings / Notes: Mentions of past bullying, Deadpool being Deadpool (But His Sweet Side, so Mildly OOC) / I'm super open to writing a continuation of this! This is uncharacteristically fluffy of me, so I'm craving the smut or angst we could get out of this. Shoot me a request if you have any ideas!

Yukio squeals. Wade’s used to her giddy noises, squeaks and giggles and the like. Ellie still cringes like it’s the first time she’s ever heard it, but she still looks at Yukio like it’s the first time she’s ever seen someone so beautiful every time she looks at her, so it balances out. 

“What is it?” Ellie asks, stirring vegetables around a sizzling pan. Wade somehow managed to invite himself to their fajita lunch, and smelling the food makes his stomach growl.

“Y/N!” Yukio exclaims.

“Where?” Ellie says, looking around. 

“No, silly, we should set Wade up with Y/N!”

“Why? Are you mad at her?” Ellie remarks. 

“She literally cannot help but romance Hancock on every Fallout 4 playthrough. Seriously.” 

“That’s your basis? A crush on a fictional character?” Ellie asks, and Wade could spot her amused-bordering-on-pissed expression from miles away. You must be special to her in some way. 

“Well, she… Y’know, she’s different.”

“You think she should settle for him just because of her mutation?” 

“No! No, not at all! I meant her personality! She’s so sweet and patient and stuff!” Yukio quickly says. 

“So why would we torture her by sticking her with him?”

“Y’know, you girls haven’t even asked me if I’d be interested. What if I think she’s a total butterface? What if I talk about my ex-fiancée the whole time? What if she’s too pretty for me? What if-?”

“You asking those questions means you’re interested,” Ellie cuts him off dismissively. “Fine, Yukio. You win. Go for it.”

“Texting her now! Yeah, she’s interested. Just let me know what you’re planning and I’ll tell her when and how to dress.”

“Oh, uh… Maybe a movie?”

“That’d be good,” Ellie says quickly. “That’s a really good idea.”

“She’s ugly, isn’t she?”

Ellie glares daggers.

“Never mind, not a movie. Dinner… At De Luca.”

“De Luca?!” Yukio exclaims. 

“Uh, yeah? That’s a place people go for dates around here, isn’t it?”

“It better be your treat, that place is expensive!” Ellie demands.

“Well, duh. You guys seem to forget that unaliving people pays incredibly well. Anyways, what’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing,” Ellie insists.

“If he doesn’t know, he might hurt her feelings,” Yukio insists. 

“He can ask her himself. Let her say it in her own words, share what she wants to share.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna fuck this up,” Wade already knows. “But at least she’ll get a free meal out of it. How about tonight? The anticipation is already killing me.”

Yukio texts, before looking up and nodding. 

“What time?” she asks.

“Can she meet me in the foyer at five?” he suggests. She types some more. 

“It’s a date!” she cheers. 

“And lunch is served,” Ellie declares gloomily. 

“So, what’s the deal with you and her, then?”

“Ellie dealt with some bullying when she first got here,” Yukio explains. “It was mostly light-hearted teasing, but it was just too soon, and with some people, it kinda got out of hand. Y/N was a senior at the time and stood up for her. From then on, she’s admired her and is always looking for opportunities to repay the favor.”

“That is so fucking cute I could die,” Wade coos. “I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

“Hearing that coming from you, I’m more concerned,” Ellie grumbles, pushing a plate towards him. “Just eat. And be respectful. Now, and then.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Wade replies before digging in. 

A few hours later, Wade invites Yukio to give him one last once over before he meets you at the door, and her shadow has trailed along diligently. Yukio gives him some helpful pointers while Ellie sulks in silence, still not a huge fan of this idea.

“Lose the mask,” Ellie finally contributes.

“Lose the- No! If I’m paying this much for food, she better be able to eat it!”

“You didn’t seem to mind the price earlier. Besides… She’s not like that. Yukio had a point earlier. Your face works in your favor, this time around. It’s everything else about you that you need to tone down a little,” Ellie argues. 

“Fine. But when she throws up, I’m calling you down there to clean it up,” Wade retorts, taking off the mask. He feels naked without it despite his suit and loafers. This is the nicest he’s dressed since his mother’s funeral.

“There we go,” Yukio says with a beam. “Perfect. Now, go! It’s almost time.”

“Thank you, my fairy godmothers. Wait, it’s not offensive to call you guys fairies, is it? ‘Cause I didn’t-”

“Go,” Ellie insists. He scurries downstairs. You’re not there yet, but there’s a young woman lurking around down there. He hesitantly joins her, and she looks at him with surprise before smiling. Wow, she’s gorgeous, so pretty that he starts to question if she’s a figment of his imagination.

“Wade?” you ask. Your voice sounds like Negasonic’s, so much so that it’s weird, but he brushes it off as best as he can.   

“Y/N?” No way, you’re stunning in a flowy knee-length dress and mary janes, your hair styled in an effortlessly pretty way. You might just be the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen. 

You nod, offering your hand to him. Your eyes say, “Shall we?” He hesitantly takes your hand. Your smile widens. He leads you outside. You trail alongside him to the car, letting your hands swing together, though not too much.

He lets go of your hand to open the door for you. You get seated, and he closes it, quickly making his way to the driver’s seat. 

“Sorry it’s kind of a beater, I can’t be driving anything too showy for obvious reasons.”

You shrug, but he can tell it doesn’t bother you.

“Not much of a talker, huh? I guess that’s why our friends thought we’d work. I talk, you listen, very cutesy…But I need someone to feed off of to be funny, so you better be up to the challenge.”

You giggle, covering your mouth. 

The drive to the restaurant is in awkward silence. He really doesn’t know what to say. He could ask you about yourself, but that might make you uncomfortable considering how little you’re willing to speak. He could start talking about himself, but that has the potential to put you off for more than one reason – either you’ll be disturbed by his life story, or he’ll come across as self-absorbed. 

The two of you enter and despite a wary look from the hostess, you’re seated relatively quickly. 

You’re brought ice water and bread. 

“Damn, this place is fancy…” Wade remarks as you sip your water. You smile sheepishly. “Hm… You seem normal. I was told there was something different about you. In fact, when Yukio had the idea to set us up, Ellie accused her of thinking you should have to settle for someone like me because of your mutation. I was expecting, I don’t know, snakes for hair, Silly Putty for fingers, something. I’m gonna start guessing if you don’t come out with it.”

Your sweet smile changes into a devilish smirk as you challenge him with your eyes. He realizes it’s more entertaining for the both of you if he does attempt to guess, so he gives it a shot. 

“Acid spit?” he asks. You shake your head. “Hiding a third boob in there?” he wonders, lifting his head and looking down for it despite your somewhat modest neckline. Your face scrunches up with amusement as you shake your head again. “Damn it. Can’t blame a guy for hoping. What about another face on the back of your head, Voldemort-style? That would be kinda cool.”  

You shake your head once more, though you’re clearly amused by his attempts to figure it out. 

“Wait,” he says, lowering his voice to a whisper: “Does your vagina kill people? Like that one girl on American Horror Story?”

“No,” you finally say, laughing. “It’s my voice.” 

“Whoa,” he murmurs. 

“Yeah, I can only speak words I’ve heard before exactly as I heard them last.”

“That’s why you sounded like Ellie earlier, when you said my name. She was the last person you heard say it.”

“Exactly,” you reply. 

“Well, that’s not so bad.”

“Most of the time,” you agree. “But I can’t always control my TONE!”

You slap a hand over your mouth as your fellow guests give you brief glances of concern and confusion. 

“Tone,” he says in a normal volume. 

“Tone,” you echo with a look of astonishment. “They call me Spirit Box.”

“Like the things ghost hunters use, right? That’s so cool. You must be great for espionage. Just bring you along as a secretary or assistant or whatever, then slap some headphones on you and turn up some instrumental music all the way ‘til you can get to a recording device and repeat what you heard.”

“I suppose so, but honestly most of the time I just hang out. I have some martial arts training, but when someone can choose between that and a human bomb, WELL, it’s not really a choice,” you explain. 

“Well,” he says for you. “I think it’s super cool. Normally, I get bored listening to other people talk. I doubt that’ll ever happen with you.”

“I might as well warn you- Damn it,” you swear. It’s in his voice. 

“What is it?”

“If I say this word I’m going to end up yelling it.”

“Uh, wanna type it out on your phone? I can read it.”

You blush, shaking your head. 

“Sounds are the same way. Even when I laugh it’s not MINE.”

“Mine,” he repeats, as you seem to appreciate it. “I don’t understand why I’d need a warning for- Oh. Gotcha.”

“I may be an alright… Talker to you, but I doubt you’d want to hear a man’s voice during sex!” Your eyes water as they avoid his in shame. Someone said that to you, and harshly. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I don’t repeat that,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand. You give it to him, your hands resting together on the table. “Besides, I’m pansexual, so, honestly… It’d be kinda hot. Best of both worlds.”

“No kidding,” you reply. It’s all Ellie. “That’s great!” you chirp in Yukio’s voice. 

“You’re pretty good friends with those two, huh?”

You nod. 

“Keeping a small circle helps with consistency,” you add. “But I’m a TV addict, so…”

“Me, too. That totally makes sense. Oh, we should look at the menus. I’ll order for you, if you want.”

“Please,” you moan, swiftly retracting your hand to cover your mouth once more as your cheeks flush. He laughs.

“I’m not repeating that, either. Hot,” he teases you.

“You’re mean,” you reply with a laugh, his laugh. 

“Please,” he says. “Forgive me.”

You smile in response before looking over the menu. 

“You haven’t said anything about my face,” he realizes.

“Oh, sorry. You’re very handsome.” You don’t even look up, still looking for something appetizing. “No prices. Yikes. What are you getting?”

“Uh… Seriously. You don’t wanna ask?”

“I think you should tell me when you’re ready. I meant it, though. I think you’re very handsome.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I think I’m gonna go with the seafood alfredo.”

The rest of the date goes swimmingly, the two of you conversing on various topics: TV shows and music you both like (and exchanging recommendations,) he shares his story (you fawned over him, maybe a little too much,) your careers (you transcribe classes at Xavier’s for students who are Deaf and/or have learning disabilities, he’s a…freelancer. You giggled at that. He doesn’t care whose sweet little giggle that is, it’s yours now,) and more. 

All good things must come to an end, though. Once dinner’s over, the two of you head back to the school. He walks you all the way to your room. 

“This was really nice,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

“It was,” he agrees. “Can I see you again? Maybe you could come up with a list of words for me to say for you, and I can say them for you over lunch.”

“That’s so sweet, Wade. I’d really like that, but I feel bad. Is there anything like that-” you cover your mouth again at the unmistakably pornographic tone, but he removes your hand gently with an amused smile. 

“Keep going,” he encourages you. “Like that.”

“Is there anything like that I could do for you?” 

“Well, you wanted to go on a date with me after seeing my face, so, you kinda already did.”

You open your mouth, but close it quickly. 

“What is it that you’re needing to say?” he asks quietly, like he’s trying not to embarrass you in front of someone else despite the two of you being alone in the quiet hallway, the only sound besides you both being the ticking on an old grandfather clock. You raise your hand, touching his lips. “You want to kiss me?”

“Yes, I want to kiss you.” 

Wade grins before taking your cheeks in his hands and uniting your lips with his for the first time. Neither of you wants to pull away, but air is an unfortunate necessity. 

You take your phone out of your purse, tapping around before presenting it to him on the Add New Contact screen. He eagerly types in his name and contact details, adding in the notes: “Just FYI after the whole Weapon X debacle I am hung like a horse and have an incredible refractory period. I only mention the refractory period because I’m pretty sure I’d explode if you even looked at it. Seriously, you are MAJORLY hot” 

He passes the phone back to you, and you look. You turn red before nodding in understanding. 

“Goodnight, Wade.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[dpimagines]

Afraid / MASTERPOST (Tumblr Links)

Notes: My works are always inspired by music. Silhouette by Aquilo is THE song for this fic. Fake You Out by Twenty One Pilots and Creep by Radiohead are also worth mentioning. For a full list of triggers associated with this fic, please see the Ao3 post, which is linked in a recent post, as well as on my full masterlist — the pinned post on this blog. Thank you!

An Overdue Introduction ~ Wade makes his triumphant return to Xavier’s with Logan and Laura in tow. He makes a powerful new friend who has an interesting reputation of her own… And a cause worth joining.

An Impossible Reunion ~ You offer Wade a gift in the form of a test, and he finds out one of the disturbing ways in which your pasts intertwine.

An Unexpected Revelation ~ Wade fears for your safety and learns something about you he never would’ve expected.

An Unforeseen Conversation ~ Wade goes behind your back, leading to unanticipated consequences.

A Chance Encounter ~ Wade reunites you with an old friend. The two of you cross paths with another.

A Disgusting Delight ~ Wade visits your past, present, and speculates on if your future should really involve him. Later, you decide to have some fun for the first time in a while.

An Inexplicable Desire ~ You have to deal with the aftermath of your loved ones discovering your taboo hobby. Time for a family reunion!

An Unfamiliar Family ~ Unexpected progress in an old pet project of yours comes in the form of your biological mother. Wade encourages you to be more open about your fears.

An Unanticipated Consequence ~ Wade makes one more alarming discovery about you. You confront Eloise.

A Successful Meeting ~ You spend some quality time with Eloise and attend a faculty meeting.

An Unwavering Flame ~ The White Queen coordinates a surprise attack against you. You meet a friend of Wade’s.

A Whimsical Meeting ~ You bond with your biological parents’ partners over swans, butterflies, and pizza.

An Important Piece ~ You and Wade look at some scrapbooks.

An Electrifying Rage ~ Yukio confronts you.

A Terrifying Conclusion ~ You grapple with how to reveal the truth to Eloise.

[dpimagines]

Short Deadpool blurb. Not completely 18+ content but does allure to it so MDNI

“You look so pretty.” Wade whispered, his eyes flickering around in an intimate attempt to map your face.

Even from beneath you he was beaming at you. He showed no issue with the position, your hands attempting to pin his against the mattress in one grip. The failing attempt did nothing to Wades reaction, following in your lead.

You were shocked when he didn’t move, not even accidentally bucking his hips against you. It felt different than all the other times you were above him. This time you both were clothed, the only not so innocent part of it all was the kisses you shared on the way to this.

“Pretty?” You responded, cocking your head slightly. “I would’ve thought this was more of a ‘hot’ position than anything.”

“Oh it is. It definitely is.” He sputtered back, the look of adoration not leaving his fucked up features. “You just also look pretty.” He shifted his head slightly, lifting it up just enough to kiss the first available part of your skin he could find without disrupting your hold on him.

“You’re pretty too.” The smile grew instantly on your face.

“Nowhere near prettier than you sugar tits.”

“God dammit Wade.”

I do not know why I keep using sugar tits but it’s like an instinct in every Deadpool thing I write I can’t help it anymore.

[dpimagines]

Wanna see how our bois Wade & Logan would handle a partner who normally a literal angel, honey bun, pookiepie but is a kinky dirtiest monster slut in the bedroom. 🙏

Wade is immediately thrilled. He’s spent so much time trying to be on his best behaviour for you when you’re out and about but the first time you get the paddle out and ask “can I spank you 🥺” he is… ecstatic is an understatement.

Logan is a bit older, a bit calmer when it comes to kinks in his later years. Still fucking down for it though. Anything where he gets to manhandle you, feel the size of his body compared to yours? Yeah. He’s down for it.

You ask for some dirty talk while they fuck you, because you love to have a stream of “oh it’s so big… it won’t fit…” dripping like honey from your kiss-puffy lips...

Wade is on it like a shot. “Too big for you baby? We’ll make it fit, don’t worry. Or maybe I’ll fuck your pretty little throat first to get myself off… pretty short refractory period though so you’d better get ready quickly…”

Logan is quieter, so when he says something it hits like a freight train. “If you’re not good, honey, you’re not gonna cum.” If it’s aimed at you or Wade it doesn’t matter. You both go feral for it.

You soon find your fav thing is having Logan fuck Wade while you sink down on the mercenary’s cock, a mess of hands and mouths and bites, before you all collapse into bed afterwards. You’ve broken a few frames that way. 😌