Deadpool and Spiderman have... an arrangement. Just sex, no strings, perfect for your everyday crimefighter. They haven't even shared their identities. Peter's happy with it, until he finds out that Deadpool's interested in getting to know the kid behind the mask. Explicit for language, some violence, and sex. LOTS OF SEX. In many locations and a fair amount of different positions. Surely NOT for the weak of heart. Honestly, I started writing this as an outlet for humorous kinky ideas and it just... sort of evolved into a cool story... (Now translated into 3 other languages) (Originally written BY ME in early 2016 and posted on FF and Archive)

Y/N L/N just moved to Midtown High. But Y/N wasn't like any other teenager, she was exceedingly smart, so much so she didn't even need to attend school at the age of 12. She was forced to by her parents, but she didn't mind because she got to experience the true high school life. But that was all about to change . . . I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS this also happened after "spiderman homecoming"

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.