
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13811790.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Spider-Man_-_Fandom, Deadpool_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Peter_Parker/Wade_Wilson
  Character:
      Peter_Parker, Wade_Wilson, Spider-Man, Deadpool
  Additional Tags:
      Friends_to_Lovers, Slow_Burn, Falling_In_Love, First_Kiss, First_Time,
      age_gap, Underage_-_Freeform, Underage_but_not_really, Smut, Eventual
      Smut, Secret_Identity, wade_is_precious, Protective_Wade, Non_AU, Tom
      Holland_is_my_Spidey, but_you_can_imagine_Andrew_if_you'd_like,
      Spideypool_-_Freeform, peter_is_16
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-27 Words: 2714
****** Walking On Broken Glass ******
by BrightParker
Summary
     Peter Parker doesn't really think he'll end up falling for a foul
     mouthed, cruel, asshole mercenary like Deadpool, until he meets Wade
     Wilson.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The night was cold- but to me, it felt like fire.
The material of my suit was suppose to be breathable- it was specifically
designed that way, yet my whole body felt like it was swimming in sweat and my
skin felt raw and red from the friction. The adrenaline pulsing through my
veins and making my head go fuzzy wasn't exactly helping.
My web shooters had ran out. WHY? That never happens. Never ever- I'm always so
calculated and organised, yet I forgot to refill and take any spares with me
that night, so I found myself sprinting as fast as I could along the top of a
large roof, being chased after by a gang of about 5 thugs, all armed with guns.
Well, that was fun.
I'd been at work all day. I don't know why I didn't bring myself to take a
break. I told May I'd been to sleep over at a friend's- she didn't usually get
too overprotective of my whereabouts, as long as I told her exactly where I was
going and what time is be back.
I wished I was back then. It was 12 at night, my legs ached and it felt like I
was being weighed down by bricks. Even for Spider-Man, it was too much-
especially since I hadn't eaten anything for hours. Doesn't work well for a
genetically modified kid with super powers and high metabolism.
The bright lights of New York seemed a million miles below me. They knew they'd
caught me. I came to a dead end, the edge of the building touching my toes. I
panted. I couldn't climb down- it'd take too long, they could literally just
shoot down at me from that distance. Jump? Hell no. It was too high. Even I
wasn't stupid enough to risk that shit.
So I turned around, slightly defeated. I let the breeze come to me, a cool
sensation hitting my face as I crossed my arms and held my hands up in mock
surrender.
"Hey, fellas."
They came to a halt, guns all pointed at my head, several toothy grins and
twisted mouths all laughed in victory.
"Would you look who we got here."
One of them stepped out- he was tall and buff, decked out in some shitty
leather jacket and heavy looking boots. Spit flew from his mouth when he spoke,
making me shuffle closer to the buildings edge until my heels were hanging off
the edge. My breath caught in my throat.
His dark eyes seemed to laugh with him- "caught myself a Spider-Man. Would you
look at that, " he cackled again, the deep voice rumbling through my body.
"Love to stay and chat- but I've got places to be," I said with a swagger,
folding my arms protectively over my body. A guy in spandex vs five thugs with
loaded guns all pointed at his head. Didn't exactly take a genius to figure out
how this would play out.
I found the air getting thinner and thinner- oh god. I couldn't escape. No
webs, and this must be one of the tallest buildings in New York. I was on the
literal edge of a building, the height could easily kill me if I fell. I tried
to hide the fact that my hands were shaking by clenching my fists, and I was
incredibly grateful they couldn't see the most likely terrified look I had on
my face.
"Think you're so big," the leader taunted loudly. "Think you run this city,
fucking around in other people's business-"
He pressed the end of the gun into the side of my head forcefully. I twitched.
I tried not to make a sound- I exhaled shakily through my nose and gritted my
teeth, trying to just think. I couldn't move. There was no where to run- fuck-
I'm was going to die.
"I'm sure it wasn't your business what was in that poor girls pants," I panted,
"but you still had to stick your hand where it didn't belong-"
Suddenly, the cold metal slammed into the side of my head. I collapsed to the
ground, the smell of blood and the pungent taste of metal washed through my
mouth as the dull ache spread. Half of my body hung off the edge- the loud
sirens and busy traffic down below made my head spin. I felt as if I might
throw up.
"Stay down, you little bastard," another sneered. I was painfully aware of the
lack of ground beneath my leg, and painfully aware that I didn't have any ideas
on how to escape.
I could jump. I could try.
I didn't want to try. Though I'd been doing it for so long- it was just too
tall, every sound, like a whisper down below taunted me and reminded me just
how high I was. It was terrifying. I felt like I'd been frozen to the ground.
My voice trembled slightly, but I didn't even have the energy to try and hide
it. I was scared. And I was angry. "H- hey, guys, just before I die- can you at
least reflect slightly on your actions, and, like, realise rape isn't fucking
okay? And NEVER try that again? As my last dying wish, I swear to g-"
But I was cut off yet again by a loud bang that rung through the air. My heart
jumped into my throat and my eyes clenched shut.
Why aren't I dead..?
I expected it to be a more painful. Quicker too. But it just... didn't come.
There was a yell, and another bang, and another. Curiosity got the better of
me, and as I peeled open my eyes, I realised quickly that no, I wasn't dead.
Which, to say the least, was a relief.
Not gonna lie.
I held my ground as my eyes darted around the scene that had played out in
front of me. They weren't there anymore- big and ominous, laughing and looming
over me- they were dead.
The leader had collapsed to the floor, he lay on his side in front of me with a
pool of blood around his head. There were two others that had collapsed in the
same way- one was still shuddering, twitching and breathing irregularly as
blood pooled around his stomach. My eyes darted upwards as I breathed out, my
head flooding with relief.
I followed the last two men- they had ran, and were sprinting across the roof
to the other end, but someone got them first.
He stood a few feet in front of me, handling two guns with two katanas strapped
to his back. He stood with his feet shoulder width apart, his arms raised and
aimed straight at the two guys, and he fired as they reached the end of the
roof. They collapsed too.
The figure swung the guns between his fingers, before putting them in his
utility belt with a flourish. He turned to me.
I'd seen him before- definitely, New York was pretty small when you swung
around it every night, and I'd 100% ran into this guy at some point. The soft
light the moon emitted hit his face, and I saw it was covered with a red mask,
big black shapes circling his plain white eyes. The red suit covered the whole
of his body, the leather looking material connecting to the utility belt he
wore and the combat boots that matched. He had, muscly arms and legs, though
his height evened him out a bit and made him seem slimmer.
Well, that was nice of him- now I'm not going to get my brains blown out by a
gang of thugs.
I shuddered, almost forgetting to breath again. My arm that held me up suddenly
collapsed beneath me, and I stumbled before dragging myself hurriedly away from
the edge.
"How are you doin', precious?"
I looked up.
The guy walked forward, looking down at me like a bad omen. His voice was loud
and rumbly- though it wasn't particularly deep, it was definitely deeper than
mine, and I could tell he was a lot older. It was thick laced with a slightly
disturbing amount of amusement.
"Better," I grimaced. My chest still felt like it was being compressed. "Now
I'm not being held at gunpoint."
"Just what I like to hear."
An arm reached out in front of me, it's palm upward and open. Like an offering.
I hesitated before accepting it, taking the mercenary's hand dubiously. He
pulled me up off the ground, and I was almost embarrassed to how much I had to
rely on his strength. I still felt so shaky. I'd nearly died. Oh god, Peter,
never forget your spare web cartridges again-
"Would you look at that shit, it's Spider-Man," he exclaimed suddenly. The mask
twisted its shape, and I could somewhat tell he was smiling. "Must be my lucky
night. It was only yesterday I was praying to our good lord for a fitty, now I
got little Webs of Queens. Maybe God doesn't hate me."
I could see him smirking.
Deadpool.
I'd seen him once before in real life, passing by, but he wasn't someone you
forgot easily. I knew a lot about him too through word of mouth- he was a
mercenary, someone who got paid to kill people- which really, really, really
wasn't morally correct. The only two reasons I hadn't bothered to go out of my
way to stop him were 1. He seemed to only kill bad guys anyway, and 2. I just
literally couldn't seem to find him anywhere. Apparently, he was very adamant
on not wanting to be found.
"Are you concussed? Are you deaf? Why didn't you web away? You are the right
Spider-Man, right, with the eyes and the webs and the flying and shit. Why are
you still here? Man, I took out those guys in a heartbeat, those fucking-"
"Yeah- could you shut up for a sec?"
He stopped, to my surprise.
I rolled my shoulders back a bit, and shook my legs, just to try and get rid of
that feeling. Y'know, the 'I was about to die' feeling- it stuck to me like
ants and I felt my nerves all flaring up violently. My eyes followed Deadpool's
feet upward- he was quite a bit taller than me. I'd never seen his suit in
detail, since I hadn't really encountered him face to face, but I noticed the
whites of the eyes seemed to move with the suit, kinda like mine, but extremely
animatedly. He raised his eyebrow at me, squinting curiously, and I could read
his exact expression through the thick material which kinda freaked me out.
With a laugh, he folded his arms.
"You're lucky I was here, you were about to get fucked uppp. You weren't
planning on letting them kill you, right?"
"Well, no, it wasn't my first idea," I grimaced.
"Didn't think it would be," he agreed chirpily, ignoring my air of sarcasm.
"You seem to have some brains in that suit of yours. I've seen you swinging
around, doing your thing, fucking up the baddies, that's pretty ballsy of you-
I mean, I don't get why you don't get the job done quicker by just shooting
them in the head or something, but morals, right? Don't really get them, never
had them. Nice suit. Always been a big fan of the suit. Defines your perky ass
nicely."
I was a bit at a loss for words. I just stared back at Deadpool. He never
seemed to stand still- he swayed, fidgeted on his feet like the lunatic I'd
always assumed he was anyway. I hadn't been disappointed.
I mouthed wordlessly, nothing really audible coming out of my mouth, until I
managed to reply.
"You- you check out people asses often.? Because that's pretty creepy, probably
personally invasive-"
He cackled.
"Invasive? You're putting yourself on show sweet, running around with that fine
body in spandex- you could have chosen something more- loose? Less erotic? But
no- you haaaad to go for spandex- and I don't blame you- but wooohooooo Spidey-
"
"Can you stop?" I replied weakly, not sure how to respond. His cockiness was
slightly overwhelming. I could feel my cheeks heating up under my mask.
"I can give it a go."
"Deadpool."
He paused, scratching his ass and sniffing.
"No- but seriously. You're a cool dude. Is there a reason why you didn't save
your own ass back there?"
"Yeah," I muttered. "My- my web shooters ran out. No biggie. I was about to
backflip off onto the next building anyway."
Ha. Was he heck.
"So that shit doesn't come out of you?" His big white eyes widened. "I don't
know whether to be relieved or disappointed- true, the thought of it was
fucking creepy, but being able to excrete white fluids out of other orifices
besides your-"
"Deadpool, STOP-"
"- is kinda hot."
I glared at him, his big, grinning face under the mask just staring back at me.
This was all just a bit too much.
"Do you ever shut up?"
He shrugged, wandering over to the edge of the rooftop, where he sat himself on
the ledge. I followed dubiously. I might as well. Technically, my patrol didn't
end until 2 and I was still feeling too shaky with the left over shock to climb
down any buildings. I stood over him curiously- as crazy as the mercy was, I
couldn't lie that something about him was too captivating to leave behind.
"Well. I'm assuming you don't want me to answer that-"
"Sexually. Yeah, no," I rolled my eyes. "Or flirtily in anyway, rudely,
sarcastically, inappropriately. Have you ever had a normal conversation?"
"It's been a while, now you mention it," he admitted thoughtfully, looking as
if he was trying really hard to recall a time he was sane. "I guess I'm just
not used to the sudden attention. Let alone from Spider-Man. Glad you're here,
by the way- this has been pretty neat."
In the moment, I didn't really think I could say the same for myself.
The thing is about being me, my whole life revolved around Spider-Man. I never
spent a waking moment not thinking about him- he was important to me. He gave
me a purpose. Spider-Man, though considerably one of the worst things that had
ever happened to me, had been the best at the same time. But due to my secret
identity, I'd never been one to meet anyone or strike up a friendly
conversation as Spider-Man, let alone gain a friend.
Though then, stood on the roof, the cold air rushing past my cheeks with
Deadpool sat in front of me, I suddenly wondered if I could share that side of
my life with someone.
Then I laughed. Deadpool, a friend? Get real.
"I've got to split," I lied, shuffling slightly. "Y'know. Stuff... to do."
"Hero stuff. Cool stuff. Good stuff."
"Yep."
Deadpool nodded, breaking eye contact with my mask and looking out onto the
vast city below.
"Have fun. Don't get hurt."
I was about to turn round and leave, until I heard his slightly softer words
pierce the air. I smirked, turning round to him and folding my arms.
"That was nice of you. Why would you care, hey mercenary?"
The usual twinkle of mischief entered the whites of the mask again. He stood up
tall, rolling back his shoulders before taking large strides towards me. My
breath hitched as he suddenly lowered his head until he was nose to nose with
me. I spluttered.
"What are you-"
He put a finger over the mask,shushing me seriously, before leaning into my ear
and whispering,
"Because one day I'm going to unsheathe my katana against your spider eggs,
Webs-"
I shoved him off as he cackled again, and I felt like if I spent a minute
longer on that roof I might end up looking like a tomato. I ignored the clear
flush in my cheeks and sauntered past Deadpool, throwing him a glare as I
passed.
As I started going down the stairs into the main building, Deadpool called back
to me-
"WE SHOULD DO THIS AGAIN SOMETIME."
 
Again my ass.
 
At least I got a nice ass.
End Notes
     Hey, welcome to my new SPIDEYPOOL fic. I'll update as much as I can,
     opefully once a week :) A couple of things-
     There's a lot of stigma around people who chose to use Tom Holland's
     Spider-Man, or make Peter really young.
     1. I'm using Tom's Spider-Man because he's my favourite, in my
     opinion the best Spider-Man and Peter, so that is why.
     2. He ISN't 15- he is 16, going on 17 and you will see- 16 is the
     legal age of consent in the UK, I'm not sure about America, but 17 is
     definitely an age where you're mature enough to think for yourself
     and make your own decisions. It's NOT CREEPY OR ANYTHING. Wade will
     be 25 in this fic.
     3. I don't know if this is worth mentioning, but Wade is attracted to
     Peter not because he's young. That's WEirD. Peter (because of the
     Spider-Man thing) has the stature of an older guy, he's muscly and
     big and generally doesn't look young. He looks about 22- just a
     little explaination there
     4. IM NOT WRITING PETER SLIGHTLY UNDERAGE BECAUSE I LIKE PAEDOPHILIA.
     fuck no, that shits nasty and it's wrong. I'm doing it to explore a
     different type of relationship- you will see as you read on how wade
     handles Peter when he finds out he's not as old as he originally
     thought, and none of this is promoting the idea that paedophila is
     okay. CAUSE IT AINT. There's a lot of development in here between the
     characters and Wade isn't some creepy old man who likes little boys.
     It's 100% all consensual and the story's main plot later on as it
     develops will be touching on wades anxiety over Peter's identity and
     his guilt and his conflict over his own morals. Peter is mature and
     grown up.
     I hope you understand this- it's probably not going to be a problem,
     I've just seen so many people get mad or angry because of issues like
     this. I just wanted to write Peter as a teenager because I love
     writing him as such. If you have a problem with it, LEAVEEE.
     Also, I have no idea about other countries and peoples morals so for
     all I know, 17 could be perfectly okay who knows, but just a little
     thing for all the problematic people :)) i d k I really hope you
     enjoy this and approach it with an open mind, thanks so much for
     reading
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
