#Deadpool (2016)

[georgeromeros]

Deadpool (2016) dir. Tim Miller

Deadpool 2 (2018) dir. David Leitch

[marvelsgirl616]

just found this pic from the 2015 SDCC….

[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.

[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]

Kinktober Day Eight: Wade Wilson

Wade Wilson x Gender Neutral Reader | Sub / Dom & Lingerie |

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, SMUT, Sub/Dom dynamics, oral ( M receiving), penetration

Summary: Wade submits to reader's control and ends up wearing black lace lingerie after some persuasion.

wc: 1.1K

| Day Seven | | Kinktober Masterlist | | Day Nine |

The dim glow of candles flickered against the walls, casting soft, wavering shadows in the room. The air was thick with a heady mixture of arousal and anticipation. Wade Wilson—mercenary, smart-ass, and current wearer of black lace lingerie—was sprawled out on the bed, his breathing erratic, skin prickling with a kind of nervous excitement that he wasn't used to.

You had to convince him at first, of course. He’d resisted, muttering sarcastic quips about how he wasn't exactly "lingerie material," but after some coaxing, a few teasing touches, and the promise of something more, Wade found himself unable to say no. And now, he was yours—entirely, utterly yours.

The lingerie fit him surprisingly well, the black lace clinging to his muscular thighs, hugging his body in all the right ways, the delicate fabric doing little to hide his growing arousal. You had taken your time dressing him up, your hands trailing over every inch of his scarred skin, your touch reverent and soft, as though you were worshiping him through every lingering caress.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, Wade," you whispered, kneeling over him, your breath hot against his ear. His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, a low groan rumbling from his throat as you shifted your weight, settling just above him. "Look at you... in this lingerie. You have no idea what you do to me."

Wade's breath hitched as your hands traced the edge of the lace fabric, fingers grazing his hips, teasing but not giving in just yet. He opened his eyes, a flash of vulnerability in them that made your heart clench. Beneath the wisecracks and the bravado, Wade was raw, unfiltered—and right now, he was entirely yours to savor.

"Jesus... you make me feel..." Wade’s voice trailed off, too overwhelmed by sensation to finish. His muscles twitched beneath your touch as you leaned down, pressing your lips against the scars on his chest, your kisses deliberate and slow, as though each one was meant to heal something deeper than just skin. He shivered beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets beside him, fighting the urge to take control, to be the brash, overconfident Deadpool everyone expected.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he was letting you lead. Letting you dominate.

You continued to kiss him, your lips mapping out every inch of his body, lingering on the places you knew he was self-conscious about—the scars along his torso, the jagged lines of his past. Your mouth moved down, lower and lower, until you reached his thighs, the black lace framing his body like a work of art.

"Fuck... baby, you're killing me here," Wade rasped, his voice hoarse with need. His hands twitched, wanting so badly to touch you, but you had set the rules tonight. No touching until you said so.

"Shh, Wade," you soothed, your fingers dancing over the bulge straining against the lace. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was trembling beneath you, completely at your mercy. "Let me take care of you."

You pressed a kiss just above the waistband of the lingerie, then another, softer this time, your tongue darting out to taste his skin. He moaned, his hips bucking up slightly, desperate for more friction, more of anything you were willing to give.

"You look so good like this, you know that?" you murmured, tracing the outline of his cock through the lace with your fingertips. "So fucking good. And you're mine, Wade. All mine."

Wade groaned, his voice rough as he rasped, "Yeah, baby... yours. Only yours."

The sheer submission in his tone sent a surge of heat through your veins, and you couldn't resist any longer. You hooked your fingers under the waistband of the lace panties, slowly sliding them down his thighs, exposing him to the cool air. His cock was hard, straining and dripping with precum, the sight of him laid bare beneath you making your own arousal throb between your legs.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move, the vulnerability in his gaze making this moment feel even more intimate. Wade—who could take a bullet without flinching, who laughed in the face of danger—was now trembling beneath your touch, his breath shallow as you wrapped your hand around him.

"Fuck, that feels... oh God," Wade groaned, his hips jerking up into your hand. You stroked him slowly, deliberately, savoring the way his body responded to you, every twitch and shiver a testament to just how much he wanted this—wanted you.

You leaned down, your breath ghosting over his length as you pressed a kiss to the tip, tasting the salty beads of precum that had gathered there. Wade moaned, his hands fisting the sheets, knuckles white as he fought the urge to take control, to guide your head down and beg for more.

But you were in charge tonight.

"You taste so good, Wade," you purred, your voice dripping with lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, taking him into your mouth inch by inch, until his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Wade's moans grew louder, his body writhing beneath you, completely undone by the sensation.

"Fuck, baby... please, don't stop," he begged, his voice strained, desperate. "I need you... please."

You pulled off him with a wet pop, a smirk playing on your lips as you looked up at him, his chest heaving with every ragged breath. "You like being worshiped like this, don't you?"

Wade's head lolled back against the pillows, a shudder running through him as he muttered a broken "Yes, fuck, I do."

"Good," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the base of his cock before taking him back into your mouth, your hand pumping what your mouth couldn't reach. Wade's moans grew louder, his body trembling beneath you, every inch of him completely at your mercy.

You could feel the tension building in his body, the way his hips were bucking up into your mouth, desperate for release. And just when you knew he was on the edge, ready to fall apart for you, you pulled back, leaving him panting and trembling, his cock twitching with need.

"Wha—baby, why'd you stop?" Wade's voice was a breathless whine, his eyes wide with confusion and desperation.

You crawled back up his body, straddling his waist as you leaned down to kiss him, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, "Because I want you to remember this moment, Wade. I want you to remember that you're mine. Always."

With that, you sank down onto him, taking him deep inside you in one slow, deliberate motion. Wade's hands finally broke the rules, grabbing your hips as he groaned your name, his head falling back as you began to move, riding him with a rhythm that was both torturous and perfect.

He was lost to you now, completely undone, and as you rode him, your hands running over his chest, his scars, his trembling body, you knew you had him. Wade Wilson was yours—in body, in mind, in soul.

And tonight, you would worship him until he broke.

Taglist: @strawbearymishake @amanikenise @lilah1020 @arthurcerverogf @iloved1lfs0 @lovemaildumpsterfire @nyxoneiros @peachtxa @chaoticweirdogeek @5soscrack @harleycao @pinkanonwriting @dindjarins04 @superstar-lover863-blog @Therealnekomari @ahreumnim

[starleska]

gahhhh i hate you guys why are you always RIGHT 🙈💖💖 watched Deadpool (2016), fell in love with this idiot. oh my god, i have a new favourite Marvel movie. this is a real 2024 plot twist. why is he so silly and babygirl. why didn't you warn me!!!!