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

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

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

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

“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?”