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Hello dears! I am Alaa and thank you for looking at us with compassion and I ask you to support my campaign to help me achieve my goal. I am in a dire need of your support now to help my family survive and be safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place to live in. I need your financial support to enable me to get the basic needs for my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help my family survive through your small donations and sharing with others. Thank you so much for standing by those who in need😭🇵🇸
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Vetted by @Gaza-evacuation-funds, my number verified on the list ( #4 ) and posted on my profile.
The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”
Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀
Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.
You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes.
At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan.
You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence.
“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go.
Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much.
He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin.
“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered.
“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”
Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.
“What? No. That’s crazy!”
You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further.
He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes.
“What’s up?” you ask.
“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.
“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”
He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting.
“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds.
“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”
Phew. Got outta that one, then.
He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed.
“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”
Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses.
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
“How do you feel about roleplay?”
He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.
“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”
You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on.
“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”
He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips.
“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”
You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself.
Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.
You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong.
“WHAT THE FUCK—!”
Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace.
“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”
You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself.
“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”
You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises.
“Oh.”
“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”
Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look.
“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”
“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused.
“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”
“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood.
He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal.
“Oh my god…”
“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”
From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right.
Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic.
But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret.
If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.
As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair.
It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again.
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