#but seeing a spider literally signals to my brain that im in a life or death situation

[takemetodragonstone]

just survived an hour long arachnophobia-induced panic attack because the biggest spider I’ve ever seen peeked around the edge of the curtains on my bedroom window (very close to where I was sitting on my bed) and then the little beast scurried back there and hid while I sobbed and hyperventilated holding the vacuum hose out in front of me like a sword.

anyway how are you guys doing?

[zillanewt]

Merc With A Trashmouth

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four

summary: Despite growing up in Derry together, the two boys went down two very different paths. Richie is the world’s most notorious mercenary and assassin, while Eddie is none other than New York’s sweetheart - the literal poster boy for bringing justice to baddies without unaliving them. This is the self-indulgent spideypool!reddie au that literally nobody asked for.

pairing: reddie

words: 2.3K

warnings: general lewdness, non-graphic violence, the loss of a limb.

A/N: holy shit so i didnt expect this to get such a positive response like it did???? im just going to say that since this is a spideypool au, im literally not going to skimp out on any of the deadpool stuff, including the scarring and the angst. oh yeah and i was worried about this being too out of character and just becoming literally spiderman and deadpool, rather than richie and eddie, but since their dynamic is the exact same, i think it blends quite nicely. the dialog between them is the easiest thing to write in this fic. Please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!

For some stupid fucking reason, Richie must’ve expected finding Eddie to be a lot easier than it actually was, which was completely unrealistic because there must be at least two million people in Queens alone. It wasn’t like the file actually helped any. There was an address scribbled inside it, but it had to be an old one because when Richie went, all he found was a delightful old Thai lady. Much to his dismay, Eddie could be literally anywhere in New York, and Richie had no clue where to start.

All he really wanted to do was crawl back to his shitty bar in Canada and pretend he had never even heard Eddie’s name in first place.

Seriously, he’s been around to literally every pharmacy and Starbucks (he knows that boy must drink pumpkin spice lattes) in Queens, and there are still no leads, just dirty looks due to the suit. At least, he left his guns in the hotel room. He learned on a job a couple years ago that NYPD does not fucking play around.

Every single day he’s still there, the lack of action causes cells in Richie’s brain to shrivel, and he just wants to fucking scream, because god dammit..he needs to shoot something. He has been in New York for a total of 5 days, and that’s a lot of days to go without unaliving somebody. All he needs to do is find Eddie, make sure nobody’s done anything stupid, and go the fuck back home, so he can continue playing with Bea and Arthur.

Perhaps, he wasn’t meant to find Eddie, in all honesty. The guy is probably married with a kid or two, doing god knows what American dream job. Richie can tell from personal experience that when Derry memories flood back into your life, it’s like watching a grotesque monster infecting and suffocating anything good you currently have. Derry kids so rarely had the chance of happiness, so who was Richie to waltz into Eddie and rub his excess Derry angst all over Eddie’s perfect life.

But, would any of the Losers grant Richie the same kindness if the roles were reversed and he lived a happy life?

Yes....actually.

Damn his friends for being thoughtful and ethical!

Rationally, he should just give up his search and look for the nearest seedy titty bar to crawl into, while he still has his dignity and Eddie has his.

But, Richie always kinda sucked at being rational.

Most people had their heads to be reasonable over their hearts and dicks, but Richie’s head was just as irrational as the latter two.

Richie giggled to himself on a full subway car, earning the glare of a very scary looking Puerto Rican woman. “You said head,” he mumbled to himself, still immaturely sputtering out laughs.

Like the dumbass he was, Richie decided the best course of action would be to track Spider-Man rather than Eddie. Spider-Man was broadcasted all the time. At any given time, there was a camera ready to film that cute little bubble butt every time a baddie caused some big explosion or killed some people.

If Eddie was Spider-Man, then Richie just had to find Spidey and let him know there’s a hit out on his secret identity. Then, he could finally get the fuck out of New York City!

***********

Six days later, Richie began to realize his plan wasn’t as genius as he expected it to be. Mass destruction doesn’t just happen every day in New York, surprisingly. That wasn’t to say Spider-Man wasn’t active on the streets every day. It just wasn’t exactly news. Crime happens. Spider-Man stops it. Yawn.

He supposes he’d just have to find out what route Spider-Man takes his patrol on because there was no way he was blowing anything up to attract the guy. The feds were already on his ass because he “assassinated over 150 American citizens.” Pffft. Like he didn’t kill anybody who didn’t deserve it. His victims were always drug lords, pedophiles, and other scumbag criminals because he still had a moral code (thank you very much!).

It shouldn’t take this fucking long to find one guy. He’s an assassin for fuck's sake!

He began to question locals about Spider-Man sightings, though most of them just talked about the footage they’ve seen on the news.

It wasn’t until he came across a Deli owner in Queens that he found an actual lead, completely by accident. Truthfully, he just wanted a roast beef sandwich. He wasn’t looking for anything.

“Man, how hard is it to find Spider-Man in this town?” Richie said conversationally, leaning against the counter while the owner sliced the meat.

The mustachioed man looked him over cautiously, then spoke in a gruff voice. “I thought all youse masked freaks knew each other or something. Are you tellin’ me there’s not a giant bat signal shining out each of your assholes so youse can locate each other?”

For the first time since he came to New York, Richie busted out laughing so hard that he was hunched over and slightly crying.

Thank god for vulgar Deli owners!

As the man finished making the sandwich and rung it up at the register, he still kept a judgemental eye on Richie. When he finally determined Richie wasn’t a threat, he chose to continue speaking.

“Spider-Man comes swinging over this street right here every night,” he gestured out the window. “We appreciate having him in the neighborhood. Stopped my niece from getting mugged. He seems like a good kid...whoever he is.”

Immediately, Richie reached across the counter and grabbed the man’s face with both hands. Before the man could cold-cock him, Richie placed a chaste kiss through his mask the man’s mouth.

“You have just made my decade, buddy,” Richie shouted, throwing a 20 on the counter and snatching up his sandwich. “Keep the change!”

As he ran out the door, he exclaimed to himself, “I can finally get out of this godforsaken city and go home to my sweet, sweet Canada.”

*********

He camped out on the roof of one of the apartment buildings, after convincing an old blind woman to let him in the building because “his son locked him out.” All he had to do now was wait for Spidey.

He was like one of those animals that preyed on spiders.

Lizards??

At least, he thinks lizards eat spiders.

From this day forward, Richie Tozier a.k.a Deadpool a.k.a Trashmouth a.k.a the Sexiest Man Alive was now officially a lizard.

What a day.

At about one in the morning, Richie, sure enough, spotted Spider-Man in all his spandex glory swinging towards him. Before the little fucker could pass over him and get away, Richie stood up and shouted “Spidey!” at the top of his lungs.

Sure enough, Spider-Man noticed the antihero, standing in all his red and black, weapon yielding glory. But, he wasn’t as thrilled to see Richie as he thought the hero might be. Because, Richie is a gay dumbass, he didn’t consider the fact Spider-Man did everything by the books and was a goody-two-shoes, while Richie had been suspected of over 150 murder charges in the United States alone. So it shouldn’t have been a shock when Spider-Man immediately webbed him to the roof before landing.

“Oh wow. This is kinky,” Richie purred, wiggling underneath the webbing.

“Shut up, Deadpool!” Eddie shouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are you doing in my city?”

This definitely wasn’t the time to say anything to agitate the arachnid, but Richie once traded in his self-control for a pretty radical shirt.

He blew a raspberry, then opened his mouth, “like this is your city.”

Everything about this situation annoyed Eddie. It was supposed to be an easy, pleasant patrol with maybe some carjackers, not Deadpool! The man wiggling around on the roof seemed almost bored already with the conversation going on, and he insulted Eddie outright.

Eddie crouched next to Deadpool, prepared to cock him in the jaw for that comment. “Excuse me?”

The merc turned his head to look Eddie in the eye as best as he could with the masks on. “You heard me, Spidey. This isn’t your city. Derry is. Am I correct?”

For a split second, Eddie flinched away from the antihero as if he had been burned, then the shock was immediately replaced with indignation and rage. How dare anybody mention Derry’s existence in his presence! Doesn’t this guy understand how hard he worked to claw his way out of that hellhole?!

Richie sees the anger outlined on Eddie’s mask, the way his jaw and fist clenches, yet he’s completely defenseless. He’s sure he could take whatever beating Eddie could give him, but he sure wouldn’t enjoy it (despite what some people in Hong Kong might tell you).

“I was gonna be nice and leave you webbed to the roof for a couple hours,” Eddie strained through gritted teeth. “But, I guess I’ll just deliver you to the feds mysel-”

“Your name is Eddie Kaspbrak,” Richie interrupted, maintaining utter calmness and seriousness. “Your mom’s name is Sonia Kaspbrak. Your dad died of cancer when you were 5. Your first kiss was with Bill Denbrough during a game of spin the bottle when you were 14. You love the color pink, even though your mother would never let you wear it because it was ‘a color for queers.’ Oh yeah! And, your childhood best friend was Richie Tozier, who you promised to marry as an adult when you were 8.”

Though neither noticed, they both swallowed thickly at the last part. All the tension and anger flooded from Eddie’s body and was replaced by confusion with every word.

“Who are you?” Eddie whispered softly, sitting near Richie’s body.

“Uh-uh, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie scolded, “let me out of your web, and we’ll talk. I’m not going to be privy to your dungeon porn hour.”

The other man looked skeptical, as expected, but he knew he could easily overpower Deadpool if he tried anything, Carefully, he began ripping away his webbings and releasing Richie. All the while, Richie quietly observed him. It seemed as if Eddie’s heart was going to beat out of his chest.

When Richie was finally free, Eddie stared at him expectantly.

“Richie,” the merc muttered under his breath, brushing excess web away from his suit.

“What?” Eddie demanded.

“Richie,” he repeated louder, looking Eddie straight in the face. “My name is Richie Tozier.”

Eddie scoffed and stood up. “Bye, Deadpool.”

As Richie watched Eddie prepare to swing away from the roof and ruin his weeks of hard work, he decided the only appropriate course of action would be to appeal to Spidey’s sense of goodness. A few feet away from him, there was a ventilation system with Big Sharp Blades.

Perfect!

Quickly, he got up and strolled over to the system, sticking his right arm completely. He let out some fake screams, along with actual real grunts of pain. Though he knew the fucker would grow back, losing an arm was literally always going to be painful no matter what. As predicted, the hero turned around at the sound of the screams and immediately ran over.

“Deadpool! What the fuck!”

“Look, Eddie! I’m Georgie,” Richie giggled, which broke out into maniacal laughter. It soon died down, then he deadpanned, “oh yeah. Wrong universe. You won’t get that joke.”

Richie was mentally patting himself on the back for yet another genius idea, as Eddie picked him up and slung him over his shoulders, piggyback style. Wow, this boy was strong. Richie would have to store that knowledge in the wank bank.

“Are you a fucking lunatic?!” Eddie demanded as he began swinging through the air.

A little delirious giggle from the blood loss escaped Richie. “Crazy’s my middle name,” he paused. “Wait. No, it’s actually not. It’s Michael. But, Crazy seems more rad.”

Loudly, Eddie groaned, mourning the loss of his nice easy night on patrol.

“I am so dumping you at a hospital.”

“No hospitals,” Richie said firmly.

“Where the fuck else am I supposed to take you?” the other snapped.

“Your apartment.”

Richie could practically feel the eye roll. “You know this was a lot of effort to get into my pants, but I’m not going to sleep with you while you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“So, you’d sleep with me if I wasn’t bleeding everywhere?”

Suddenly, the spot where Richie’s chest was resting on Eddie’s shoulders felt slightly warmer, and if Richie didn’t know any better, he’d say the man was blushing.

“Shut up, asshole! Give me one good reason why I should take you to my apartment.”

Dramatically, Richie cleared his throat, “because my arm will grow back, first of all.” Eddie turned his head slightly to see a small tiny hand poking out of what was a bloody open wound not five minutes ago. It gave a tiny little wave at him. Every thought he ever had about Deadpool being attractive shriveled in literally five seconds as he grimaced underneath his mask at the little hand.

“Second of all, I gave you literally every reason to believe I’m Richie Tozier, yet you still won’t listen to me! Do I have to start whipping out the cringy middle school memories to get you to believe me or what? Because I personally remember the “Eddie’s Booty Jams” mixtape. The ‘80s definitely weren’t as cool as everyone made them out to be.”

It was quiet for a long time, just the sounds of New York below them.

“If I take you to my apartment, will you shut up?” Eddie sighed, no longer willing to fight this crazy situation.

“Gladly, baby boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie honestly debated dropping him from this height.

“God, I hate you,” Eddie muttered. “And for your information, I would literally never sleep with you now that I’ve seen your weird baby hand.”

“So, I had a chance before!?”

Eddie groaned, not for the last time.

taglist:  @eds2fannypacks, @welctothelosersclub, @its-stranger-than-you-think, @reddiietoship, @richietoaster, @hickey-richie, @dandeliontozier, @kaspbrck, @yalocalemo, @hearteyes-m