#Deadpool (2016)

[beepingmemesauce2727]

A recreation of Deadpool's drawing from the movie I did a while ago

I'm still so proud of how this turned out

[georgeromeros]

Deadpool (2016) dir. Tim Miller

Deadpool 2 (2018) dir. David Leitch

[marvelsgirl616]

just found this pic from the 2015 SDCC….

[librababe99]

Kinktober Day Nine: Piotr Rasputin

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) x Female Reader  | Thigh Riding | 

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Female Reader, Thigh Riding 

WC: 977 

A/N: I’m going to be so real with y’all I’m a sucker for accents and there is something about Piotr that makes me swoon! I just need to be held by him😩

| Day Eight |  | Kinktober Masterlist |  |  Day Ten |

Translations: "Solnishka moya" - My little sunshine ; "Lyubov moya" - My love

The night was quiet, the kind of silence that wrapped around the two of you like a warm blanket. For the first time in what felt like forever, the mansion was empty, leaving you and Piotr alone. Just the two of you. No missions, no teammates, no interruptions. The peace felt almost foreign after so much chaos, but the moment you were together, it felt like everything clicked into place.

You sat straddling Piotr’s lap, your knees pressing into the soft cushions of the couch beneath you, while his large hands rested on your hips, holding you steady. He was impossibly big beneath you, his body dwarfing yours in a way that made you feel safe and consumed all at once. His gaze, those deep blue eyes dark with desire, had been fixed on you for what felt like an eternity before he finally pulled you down into a kiss.

It started slow at first, sweet and soft, his lips gently brushing against yours, but it didn’t take long for the heat between you to ignite. The kiss quickly deepened, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as your tongues tangled. A soft moan escaped you as your body pressed against his, your hands sliding up his broad chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. Piotr groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

The sensation of his lips on yours, the feel of his body beneath you, it was intoxicating. Every time you were with him, it felt like you could get lost in him—like nothing else in the world existed except for the two of you. And tonight, you wanted more. Needed more.

As your hands wandered over his chest, exploring every inch of him, your hips instinctively shifted in his lap. The friction between your core and his solid thigh was maddening, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment as your forehead pressed against his, your breath coming in soft, needy pants.

Piotr’s grip tightened on your waist as he felt the way your body rocked against him, his own breath coming out in a low growl. “Do you want this, lyubov moya?” His voice was husky, his accent thick with desire, and the way he looked at you, the pure hunger in his eyes, made your heart race.

You nodded, unable to form words for a moment, your body trembling with anticipation. “I need you, Piotr,” you whispered, your voice breathless, your hands moving up to cup his face as you kissed him again, harder this time, more desperate.

His hands roamed over your body, sliding up your sides, under your shirt, the heat of his touch leaving a trail of fire on your skin. You arched into his touch, your hips grinding down against his thigh, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing deliciously against the thin fabric of your pants. The pressure against your core was enough to make you moan into his mouth, your body moving on its own now, seeking more friction, more heat, more of him.

You could feel how much he wanted you too, the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, but for now, all you could think about was the way his thigh felt between your legs. The way it flexed under you, his muscles hard and unyielding, giving you exactly what you needed.

You broke the kiss, throwing your head back as you rocked your hips more insistently, chasing that rising pleasure that was building deep inside you. “Piotr…” His name left your lips in a breathless moan, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him.

He groaned again, his hands gripping your hips harder, guiding your movements as you rutted against him, his thigh pressing up into you in all the right ways. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched you lose yourself on top of him. “I want to give you everything, solnishka moya.”

Your body was burning, your heart pounding as the tension built higher and higher inside you, your hips grinding faster against his thigh. Every brush of fabric against your core, every flex of his muscle beneath you, sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you. You were so close, so desperate for release, and Piotr was right there, watching you with an intensity that made your head spin.

“Piotr,” you gasped, your body trembling as you felt the edge of your climax approaching. “I… I’m going to…”

His lips were on your neck now, kissing, nipping at your skin, his hands still guiding your hips as you rode out the pleasure. “Let go,” he whispered against your ear, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through you. “I’ve got you.”

That was all it took. With a cry, you came undone, your body shaking as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your hips stuttering against his thigh as you reached your peak. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you rode out the intense pleasure, every nerve in your body alight with sensation.

Piotr held you through it, his hands gentle now, his lips pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulders as you slowly came down from your high. When your breathing finally steadied, you collapsed against his chest, your body spent but utterly satisfied.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his large hand stroking your hair as you lay there in his arms. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth and affection as he kissed the top of your head. You smiled, your heart still racing as you pressed a soft kiss to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. 

Taglist: @strawbearymishake @iloved1lfs0 @lovemaildumpsterfire @nyxoneiros @chaoticweirdogeek @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @superstar-lover863-blog @Therealnekomari @ahreumnim @dindjarins04

[xalala]

DEADPOOL (2016) dir. Tim Miller

[septimosis]

Fun fact: in 2016 I went for a preview screening of Deadpool and on the way out of the cinema I bought a lifesize deadpool cardboard cut-out the cinema was selling off. I had it behind the headboard of my bed for years. I’m sure I still have it somewhere in storage as I’ve moved a lot in the past few years but goddamn do I ever want that back in my room now

[whrsluca]

Deadpool - Wade Wilson

[mids-stupid-shit]

My favorite quote from Deadpool (2016)

Deadpool & Wolverine isn't out in my country still so queue the sad violin noises

[kerrste]

Quick sketch cause I watched the first movie yesterday

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[brainrotcharacters]

When will it be my fuckin turn

[georgeromeros]

Deadpool (2016) dir. Tim Miller

“To you, Mr. Pool. Deadpool... that sounds like a fucking franchise.”

[marvelsgirl616]

[librababe99]

ive had this idea stuck in my head for weeks. friends to lovers w Wade. I love your writing! would love to see you do something with this :DDD

Nikki, friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes! The fact you've are my first request for Wade has me sooo stoked too😊

I hope you enjoy this!!

Title: More Than Just Friends

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Wade Wilson, Female Reader, Set during the 2016 Deadpool Movie Summary: Wade is used to hiding his pain behind sarcasm, but after a brutal night of mercenary work, the one person who always patches him up--His best friend--makes him confront feelings he can no longer bury. WC: 1.0K

It was late, but that was typical for Wade. The nights when he didn’t come home covered in blood, bruises, or worse, were rare. His apartment was as much a sanctuary as it was a warzone. Every time he came back, it was always with a new wound, and every time, you were there. Not that you minded.

You sighed as you climbed the stairs to Wade’s dingy apartment, the bag of medical supplies in your hand. You’d been getting calls from Wade for a while now, ever since he’d been discharged from the Canadian Special Forces and started taking on freelance mercenary jobs. The two of you had been close before—best friends, even—but this work had brought him back into your life in a way you didn’t expect.

It started as a few nights of patching him up, laughing at his stupid jokes while you taped him back together, but it had become routine. A strange routine, but a routine nonetheless. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone a week without seeing him, usually in some state of disrepair.

You knocked on his door, hearing a grunt from inside that signaled Wade’s familiar, albeit exhausted, voice.

“Door’s open,” he called, his voice rough, and you entered.

He was slouched on his old couch, blood smeared across his shirt, which was barely hanging on by a few threads. The sight of him in this state wasn’t new, but something about the way he wasn’t immediately making a joke unsettled you. His usual bravado, the sarcastic remarks, the teasing grin—none of it was there. Instead, he looked… worn down.

“Wade?” you called softly, setting your bag down on the coffee table. “What the hell happened to you this time?”

“Just another Tuesday,” he muttered, trying to crack a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You knelt in front of him, already assessing the damage. His knuckles were split open, bruises darkening around his ribs, and a cut on his cheek was still bleeding. You bit your lip, shaking your head as you grabbed a cloth and some antiseptic. He watched you in silence, his gaze following your every movement.

“This doesn’t look like a ‘just another Tuesday,’ Wade. You look like someone ran you over with a semi-truck.” You tried to keep the tone light, but his silence was unnerving.

He winced as you pressed the cloth to the cut on his cheek, and for a moment, you expected a snarky comeback. Something about how he’d gladly take a semi-truck if it meant seeing you in scrubs. But nothing came. He just closed his eyes, leaning into your touch slightly.

“Wade?” you said softly, pausing. “You okay?”

His eyes opened slowly, meeting yours. There was something there, something raw that you hadn’t seen before. It made your heart skip.

“I’m fine, just… rough night,” he finally said, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

You continued tending to his wounds, the silence between you growing heavier. Normally, Wade would have filled it with crude jokes or exaggerated stories of his fight, but tonight, it felt different. It was like the weight of his life—the mercenary work, the violence, the loneliness—was catching up to him, and for once, he wasn’t hiding it.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” you asked quietly, wrapping a bandage around his hand. You’d wanted to ask him this for a long time, but it never seemed like the right moment. Now, with him this vulnerable, it slipped out before you could stop it.

Wade blinked, his gaze shifting away from yours. “Someone’s gotta do the dirty work, right? Might as well be me.”

“But you don’t have to,” you insisted, your hands stilling on his. “You’re not alone in this, Wade. You don’t have to keep putting yourself through this hell.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He just looked at you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen. His usual mask of sarcasm and humor had fallen, leaving the man underneath—the one who felt too much but never showed it.

“I’m good at it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s all I’ve got.”

You frowned, shaking your head. “That’s not true. You have people who care about you. You have me.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavier than anything you’d said before. Wade’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. You felt the tension rise, the room suddenly feeling much smaller.

“Do I?” he asked, and there was something vulnerable in the way he said it, like he genuinely didn’t believe it.

“Of course, you do, Wade,” you replied, your voice soft but firm. “I’ve been here, haven’t I? Every time you get hurt, every time you need someone. I’m always here.”

Wade swallowed hard, his usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. Instead, he looked at you with something closer to fear—fear of what he might say next, of what it might mean.

“I’ve always joked around, you know,” he began, his voice shaky. “Flirting, teasing… but… you know I care about you, right?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t sure how to respond. Wade was always so flippant with his feelings, always hiding behind his humor. But now? Now he was serious.

“I know,” you whispered, feeling your heart pound in your chest. “But do you know?”

He looked at you, and for once, there was no joking, no sarcasm—just Wade, raw and real. “I’ve been scared, I guess. Scared that if I said something real, I’d screw it up. I’m good at screwing things up.”

Before you could respond, Wade did something you never expected—he leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t his usual playful, teasing kiss. It was soft, tentative, almost as if he was afraid you’d pull away.

But you didn’t. You kissed him back, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned into him. The kiss deepened, and all the tension, all the unspoken words, melted away.

When you finally pulled back, Wade rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. “That wasn’t a joke,” he murmured, his voice raw with emotion. “I meant that.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you looked into his eyes. “I know, Wade. I meant it, too.”

For once, there were no jokes, no walls. Just the two of you—more than just friends.

[howardduck1490]

Teen Titans Go! Deadpool

Wade Winston Wilson is a mutant with a powerful healing factor and incredible combat prowess, which led him to work as a notorius mercenary, vigilante, and ally of the X-Men under the name Deadpool. He eventually left behind his vigilante lifestyle to find a stable and fulfilling job as a civilian after his attempts to join the Avengersproved fruitless, until he was taken from his native reality and offered a place in the Sacred Timelineby Mr. Paradox, a rogue Time Variance Authorityagent. However, after learning that Paradox plotted to annihilate his home timeline, Deadpool was sent to the Void alongside a Variant of his Wolverine, with whom he formed a very uneasy alliance to escape. The two new friends were able to thwart Paradox's plans and kill Cassandra Novabefore she could erase all timelines, and thus, Wilson invited Logan into his world and continued working for the TVA.

Later on, Deadpool found himself on Svartalfheimwith Thor, where he was injured and suit was damaged, leaving Thor crying over Deadpool's damaged body.