TheGewn



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    “I don’t want you to take care of me like that.” Peter says it because he doesn’t - never has. Wade isn’t the first person he’s been with that’s made more than him, hell, his childhood best friend was heir to a multi-million dollar company. If Harry couldn’t pay for his rent, if MJ couldn’t pay for his coffee then like hell - like hell- he would let someone like Wade be the one to break him. To coddle him with his blood-soaked wallet until Peter was too dead-eyed to remember his independence.
    “It’s a fucking t-shirt Parker.” Wade snorts. “You’d think I’m offering to buy you a custom Maserati with heated seats and a spider decal on the dash.”
    Wade wants to spoil Peter who has no interest in anyone spending money on him. They find bizarre compromises that result in them both learning more about each other.

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    28 Dec 2025

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    Absolutely hilarious. They're both the worst in this fic and it makes me so happy.

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    Peter wants to do a scene where Wade does whatever he wants to him and Wade loves to give Peter whatever he wants. Read the tags.

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    19 Apr 2026

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    “Is it my winning personality?” Deadpool asks finally.

    “Historically, I’m not that easy of a lay.” Peter bites out, twitching as the knife at his hip cuts through his already-tattered costume and drags against the skin.

    “Is it the knife?” Deadpool leans in closer, and Peter’s pulse spikes as he starts moving said knife again. The tip caresses over his hip, not cutting through skin any more just making itself known. Peter lets out a noise too embarrassing to label and is pretty sure that answers the question.

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    19 Apr 2026

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    "Wanna see it?"

    Peter’s head snaps up. "... You'd let me look?"

    "Don't see why not. What've I got to lose? My dignity?"
    -

    Or, the phallo fic.

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    18 Apr 2026

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    He glances over the thick black lettering above the picture
    (SPIDER-MAN AND DEADPOOL: PARTNERS?
    ) and focuses solely on Deadpool. The merc has two guns out in an exchange of bullets with a robber inside a bank. This wasn’t long ago. A week at most. Each shot had been calculated, the bullets never missing their mark, as the smell of smoke and gunpowder drifted  in the air, heavy enough to choke on. Peter roamed over the display of muscles covered by a body suit of spandex and leather. For someone who rarely exposed their skin, Deadpool’s suit had a way of accenting every inch of his body. His steady posture didn’t help. Or those rolling shoulders. His large hands. Again, the feeling stirs in Peter’s gut, more insistently.

    Urging. 

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    16 Apr 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Spidery peter!