Some Cruddy Oneshots

Deadpool x Spiderman (Spideypool) ||Smut || PB

This chapter is going to be much more triggering than what I'll be usually doing, if any of the following trigger you then I advise you don't read this chapter.

These are the comic versions, they're both in their 30s, in this Peter doesn't have Parker industries.

Warnings:

Murder, violence, gore, suicidal thoughts, mentions of self-harm, major character death, not very innocent Peter.

Word count: 4,711 (not including the a/n for once)

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The sound of metal clanging fills my ears, somewhere behind me a man is thrown, thudding against the floor.

I can hear my partner in crime huffing, trying to catch his breath before coming to help me on the last guy.

I kick him in the gut, sending him into the wall. I watch Spiderman hold him there with his web before we both turn to leave.

"How do chimichangas on me sound?" I asked, beginning to lead the masked vigilante outside where we could swing away safely before the police arrived.

"They sound great, all this crime-fighting sure works up an appetite," He responds, grabbing me by the waist and holding me close to him to swing towards where we usually get our food, which was in a nice little area near the bay.

We drop into an ally, I toss on a sweatshirt to try and blend in while I go to purchase the fried burritos.

I walk back into the alley, holding the paper bag containing our food. Spidey grabs me once again and swings us to an empty building right near the water.

I sit on the edge of the building, pulling my mask off so I could dig into the greasy Mexican food. Spiderman soon joined me, sitting next to me before pulling his mask up just above his mouth so he could eat.

We talked about all sorts of things, from books to TV shows, exes to dumb family Christmas stories. Did you know Spidey was an orphan with a dead uncle? I have, for a while now actually. I could find out who he is if I wanted, but I respect his privacy, and I don't want to risk our friendship.

Eventually, we finish our food, and with no more to talk about decide to sit in silence. Is this awkward? Should I talk? I ponder on it for a moment. Yes, I should talk. But just as I'm about to open my mouth my webbed companion speaks up.

"I have something to tell you," he says, messing with his hands awkwardly, "it's important," this, of course, grabs my attention.

"What is it, sweetums?" I question looking at him with one brow raised.

He stands abruptly, walking towards the center of the roof, pacing nervously, "It's just..."

I stand up as well, walking towards him, and standing in front of him, "Whatever it is, you can tell me," I say, giving him a reassuring smile.

He lets out a breath, before grabbing his mask and pulling it off. Soft brown curls bounce, framing his face. Big brown eyes look up into mine. He licks his lips nervously.

"My name is Peter Parker, I used to take pictures of Spiderman for the daily bugle, and now I engineer equipment," He says, looking like he's about to cry.

I don't know what to say, I'm beyond happy that Spiderman, Peter, trusts me enough to tell me his secret identity.

I don't say anything, just staring at him.

"I'm sorry, this was a mistake," he begins, tears gathering in his eyes.

"No no! I just," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder, "I don't know what to say, I never thought you'd trust me enough to show me your identity,"