Deadpool vs. Kylo Ren. The conclusion is foregone.

Vanessa comes home to find Wade in a world of pain. She helps him take it over the edge to something he can deal with.

Peter was having the worst day the author could've come up with - and that's even before he accidently killed Deadpool.

Spider-Man comes out of the closet. Peter Parker would give anything to crawl back in.

Peter’s known Wade for a while now, so he can maybe see how this makes sense -- like, maybe Wade has a thing about going commando and just happened to have an old girlfriend’s panties lying around, one thing led to another…but… “And the bra?” Peter croaks.

"Why don’t you ever let me see it? If you have the name already, why can’t you tell me whose it is? I thought we were best friends." Everyone gets their Name when they turn twenty-one. It isn’t their own name either. It’s the name of their Soulmate. When Wade Wilson wakes on his twenty-first birthday, he looks down at his chest and sees Peter Benjamin Parker. He stares for a moment then shrugs, gets dressed, and doesn’t think about it for another six weeks.

"The first time Peter’s timer stops he is eleven years old. It times out in the middle of the night and wakes him up like an electric shock. The blank timer stares at him from his wrist as he yells and screams for his aunt and uncle." Spideypool AU with timers where Wade keeps getting killed and making Peter's timer go blank. By the time they meet he's pretty pissed off. This was certainly a summary with words, but they were not good ones. Based off a tumblr prompt that I cannot find anymore.

Peter first meets Deadpool when he's nine years old, shaking in a basement somewhere and waiting to die.

So this story is about the time I fucked up— [ONE of the times you fucked up] —and pissed off Shiklah, my wife. She decided to punish me with the help of a couple of her henchdemons, and kinky fun was had by all.

What is it about Spidey that gets me so worked up? The sassy banter? The lithe physique? The skin-tight spandex? The bondage? [Bingo.] {It’s totally the bondage.}

Usually I’m not the kinda guy to end things prematurely, but you may have noticed that a certain scene in my movie (I know you know the one I mean) got cut off before it really had a chance to get started. So here it is, for all your perverted pegging pleasure: my full-length, uncut account of International Women’s Day.

The strap-on was Wade's idea in the first place.

Peter and Wade try out one of Wade's kinks.

The name’s Deadpool, and I’m here to tell you about how me and the great Steve Rogers hooked up. Spoiler alert, it was banging hot.

They were in another timeline. It happened occasionally. Who even knew how Wade got involved. He was just trying to show Darcy how many tacos he could fit in his mouth (six), and then blammo: Big flash of light, whirling space vortex, the indescribable sensation of the universe contracting with you inside it to the size of a single electron, and then everybody was spat out in a heap on the sidewalk of a place that looked like -- but probably wasn’t -- New York, and all of Wade’s tacos de sesos were lost to the interdimensional void. “Nooo,” Wade whispered, heartbroken. “Tacos.”

Wade naked was a sight to behold; something akin to the traumatised beauty of broken glass, a burnt out forest, a dilapidated building. Or so Peter thought as Wade stripped away his costume and headed to the bathroom.

Wade Wilson doesn't go to coffee shops.

“Honey,” Wade calls over his shoulder without taking his eyes off their visitor. “Why is there a teenage mutant in our breakfast nook? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” he says to Negasonic, who raises her eyebrows owlishly. Vanessa comes out of the bedroom and hooks her chin over Wade’s shoulder. “Do you think she heard me getting my spanking?” he whispers. “Because that was *private* noise.” “I don’t know,” Vanessa says. “But she looks like she needs some coffee and pancakes, don’t you think?” Negasonic grins. It’s scary as fuck.

“Wade and I have a tradition whenever one of us turns out not to be dead.” She smiles at Cable politely. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” “And by dinner, she means bare minimum twelve hours of the most animalistic ravaging of each others’ naughty bits that you can see outside Bangkok, big boy. Really putting the freak in fan-freaking-tastic multi-orgasmic cum-marathon.” “So what do you say?” Cable grinds his jaw for a second, but honestly, who would pass up these A-listers? “Why the hell not?”

Wade turns to find a very wide-eyed Peter sitting on his couch, freshly showered and fully at home-away-from-home, which would be great if Wade had any clothes on. Scrambling buck-ass-naked through the window of his own apartment was not how he intended to come out to Spiderman, but well, these sorts of things just happen to him. Gotta look into acid proof suits. “Heya Spidey,” Wade says because, well, nothing to be done about it now. He holds his arms out looking down at his own body, and well—yeah, that’s still a sight, ain’t it? “Sorry, pal, didn’t mean to shaft the funhouse onto you unawares. Get it? Shaft?” (Peter sees Wade naked and they jump into this head first. Pun intended.)

Peter’s just trying to live his life as a normal omega — as normal as an omega can be after being bitten by a radioactive spider. What he certainly did not need while out of costume and quickly falling into heat was to run into Deadpool. Alphas usually didn’t take kindly to what happened to Peter during his unique, super-powered heats. Turns out, Deadpool is the absolute opposite of upset about it.