You may know me as DP, D. Piddy, the Pooliest of the Dead, Wade Wilson, Wadey-kinz, or my personal favorite, DeadPool. I'm the merc with the mouth, and I know how to use it. Bam! So what is this, like one of those dating profile things? Um... likes: guns, swords, pouches, grenades, kitanas, pouches, boobs, butts, rippling muscles (especially mine), POUCHES, BURRITOS, TACOS, PANCAKES.... Dislikes: People's knees (I'll tag things NSFW, this blog can be 18+ if the mood arises. I mean, Deadpool is a killing machine with plenty of sexual innuendos. Stuff happens. Multi-verse, I follow Deadpool from the comics, particularly Daniel Way or Brian Posehn. Multi-ship. I reply so fast. Like, really fast. Some might say too fast. Most importantly this is for FUN! So let's do it)
The city was always more beautiful from a high area. Sitting on the rooftop of the tallest skyscraper, Breanna had her feet dangling over the edge, brown hair tousling in the wind. Small flames danced across her fingertips as her hand was stretched out in front of her; her eyes darting lazily from...
Deadpool had been chosen a building directly across from the one his target lived in to stage the shooting. He was ready to assemble all his weapon and wait for the target to come into position when he noticed a small, flickering light from a rooftop away from him.
"Sh*t, who in the hell knows I'm here right now? I so don't have time for this. My tummy has a bad case of the rumblies."
Thinking that his position had already been compromised, Wade crawled to the other side of the building nearest the strange person with the light was sitting and called out.
"Hellooo, person of the night? Who goes there?! You owe me dinner and a couple hundred thousand dollars."
Harley stood in confusion. She was dumbfounded. Never expecting someone like Wade to come out and say such a thing. Though he seemed to be a very straight forward guy to begin with.
"Okay!"
Why the hell not. She smiled crazily at him. It would be an experiment, and a fun one at that.
Wade watched how Harley moved, wanting her more as she removed each piece of her clothing. She was petite, but she was all muscles and curves. ‘Her skin is so smooth,’ he couldn’t help but admire it.
Wade groaned happily when she finally started to touch him. He tentatively ran his fingers from the sides of her hips to her stomach, and paused underneath her bra before opening a switchblade to cut it off completely.
"I took yours off, now you have to take mine. That way you won’t be …surprised by what you see," he was referring to his clothes and his skin underneath.
Harley smiled at him with a lustful hue in her eyes. She giggled and bit her lip as he cut her bra off. She slid her hands over his clothes finding an easy place to pull them off.
"Don’t worry, I’m not easily surprised." She whispered in his ear taking off his clothes. Revealing his scarred skin she kissed him again. She had her own scars, though they were white lines among her skin that was not easily seen.
His top now off, exposing his muscular and mutilated upper body. Wade tugged at her lip with his teeth while kissing her, growing hungry for more. It wasn't often that someone didn't run away screaming after seeing his skin, and never was it someone this attractive. He would take full advantage of that.
He gripped one of her ponytails and used it to pull her head to the side so he had easier access to her neck, where he sucked and bit at the skin, moving downwards. He discovered a scar along her collarbone with his mouth and traced it with his tongue.
"Ain't life beautiful?!" He exclaimed, admiring her beasts when he was eye-level with them.
Wade felt the force of the blow directly on his nose, which had been broken enough times for him to know the feeling well. He quickly covered his nose with both hands and snapped it back into place so that when his healing factor kicked...
➊ an everyday note
➋ a happy birthday card
➌ a “dear john” letter
➍ a “please remember to…” note
➎ a confession
➏ a “morning after” letter
➐ a love poem
➑ a goodbye letter
➒ a letter meant to be read only once my character is dead
➓ a message asking for something
Put a “║” in my inbox for my muse being thrown into a jail-cell with yours.
"Oh come on, you couldn’t have given me a cell to myself?" Ivy yelled back at the guards as they threw her into the already occupied cell. She sent a glare to the stranger before settling in a corner and crossing her arms.
"Besides the fact that I’m in the company of a man?” Ivy scowled with distaste as she eyed him. “I’m not exactly going to be thrown in jail with a smile on my face. Not exactly the best place to be.”
Her hands fell onto her hips, rolling her eyes as he bowed. “You must be new here. You ain’t ever heard of Poison Ivy?” She asked, a slight edge to her voice when she realized he didn’t recognize her.
"The Batman dragged me here. Literally— dragged me here. He has no sympathy in that cold little heart of his.”
"I'm not such a bad guy! People tell me all the time that I'm very in touch with my feminine side. Or maybe I just wish they would tell me that."
Wade hadn't recognized her - but he did know Batman, (who didn't?!), and was surprised that his favorite justice-seeker had treated a woman as poorly as Ivy described.
"I wasn't dragged here by Batman, (although I wish I was. He's sort of a hero of mine), but I was surrounded entirely by police and caught off guard without my usual assortment of weapons so - here I am."
"Are you kidding me? I’ve been banged up and tried to talk to girls before, bro—not really my strong suit, whether I’m bleeding out or not, you know? Starting to sound like you’d be better off faking a limp or something and taking ‘em for yourself.”
"I already look like I need some serious medical attention and I never have the ladies crawling all over me. If anything, they're screaming and running in the opposite direction. But that could work in my wing-man favor too. I'm so hideously ugly that they're going to collapse in your arms with fright. Just watch."
"Well, it’s not like they’re much use living either. I’m only un-aliving them because they’re baddies. The longer they live, the more good people die. Also, the faster I get my money. So step aside, baby bird."
In truth, Deadpool didn’t care much either way if they lived...
Wade felt the force of the blow directly on his nose, which had been broken enough times for him to know the feeling well. He quickly covered his nose with both hands and snapped it back into place so that when his healing factor kicked in, he wouldn't look like Owen Wilson.
"Now look what you did, they escaped during our little lovers' spat." He gestured to where the aforementioned "baddies" were just previously standing.
Put a “║” in my inbox for my muse being thrown into a jail-cell with yours.
"Oh come on, you couldn’t have given me a cell to myself?" Ivy yelled back at the guards as they threw her into the already occupied cell. She sent a glare to the stranger before settling in a corner and crossing her arms.
Deadpool had been lying on the bottom cot in the cell, singing "I eat bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s," for about the hundredth time in boredom until his new cellmate appeared. He was not expecting the prison to be unisex, but hey, maybe it was more forward - thinking. He was glad it was allowed, because the woman before him was beautiful - and.... green?
"What's so wrong having a little company, sugar-buns? Names' Wilson, by the way. Wade.... Wade Wilson. What'd they lock you in the clink for?"
Deadpool had hopped up from the cot upon her arrival and jumped up to introduce himself with a bow.
"I’ll just work some classic Wade Wilson certified one liners on them. Like "Is that an arrow in Clint’s pants, or is he just happy to see you ladies?" Or "is that an arrow in Clint’s pants, or one in his heart from Cupid after seeing you ladies?" Or "is that an arrow in Clint’s pants, because he just got shot by an arrow?" One of them will work eventually. Gotta wear them down."
"Is that how it usually works for you? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d totally go for those, but I mean, if there was an arrow anywhere, it’d probably be because I got shot, man. And, you know, that’d be a pretty great time to romance somebody, I guess.”
"Oh, nothing usually works for me. I just get lucky with some crazy ones. But romancing someone while getting shot... that just gave me the greatest idea, man. We stage a fight, and I come out looking like the asshole who beat you up, and all the ladies will come like, flocking to care for you. And then you guys can flock together. Haha!"
Cable sends Deadpool a “humanitarian weapon” from the future in order to help save NY. Because our boys look out for each other, even from different time-periods. Even beyond death.
Despite its ups and (numerous) downs, I rather envy that kind of relationship.
[Cable & Deadpool #50]
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