Photo Kabob!

BY : therealrjbenson
Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Deadpool
Dragon prints: 997
Disclaimer: I do not own Deadpool (I wish though!),Spiderman, the avengers or any Marvel Universe, X-Men nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Red light flooded the room. He gently used specialty tongs to submerge the paper in a tub filled with development chemicals, watching as the photo began to appear before his eyes. After a few minutes, he ever so carefully fished it out and hung it beside the others on the line behind his head.

Peter smiled, running a hand through his mop of brown hair as the photo became clearer and clearer. It was some of his best work. This roll was filled with shots from all over the city in various angles that most would never be able to get but…Peter had a special talent for awkward positions. This one he was especially proud of.

It captured citizens playing and picnicking on a beautiful day in central park, but also the reconstruction of the city in the background. A true piece of a city in healing. And, a welcome sight after being torn apart during the alien invasion a couple of years ago. It had taken a while, but Peter was glad the citizens felt safe enough to be out relaxing and enjoying themselves. It was why he protected them as fiercely as he did being Spiderman. For peaceful days like that.

He continued to look around at the others hanging on the line. The corners of his mouth tilted down. “Dammit, Deadpool…” Peter grumbled. Lately, a rather annoying character in black and red had been hanging around while he went on patrols around the city. As Spiderman, he tolerated him, backup was always good to have. And the man always bought them tacos afterwards, a huge plus. The other day, he’d seen Spidey taking pictures and Peter had reluctantly let him look at the camera, snap a few selfies and even a few with Deadpool’s arm hanging on his shoulder. Deadpool had only given the camera back after Spidey had promised to keep the photos private, between them only.

Peter rolled his eyes, gathering his stuff. He grabbed a few photos off the line to show to Jamison, some of himself as Spidey, and some from the city including the park scene. With his menagerie of photo options in hand, Peter headed off to work, hoping Jamison was in a buying mood.





Peter could hear Jamison’s bark all the way to the elevator. He had barely stepped out when Patty, the receptionist, was urging him toward the publisher’s office.

“Where are those photos? You told me you’d be here with some decent photos before 3 o’clock today!” Jamison demanded, cigar hanging out of his mouth. Peter entered the office, pulling out the folder of his newest develops.

Patty scoffed. “Boss, it’s 2:45. He’s early. Give the kid a break. And, your wife is on line one…again.” Jamison’s face went red but before he could bark another order, Patty held up a hand. “Blood pressure, Mr. Jamison, your blood pressure.”

Jamison seemed to fizzle out. He muttered, “Tell her I’m not here…or at lunch. I’m busy.” He scratched at his salt and pepper mustache. Patty left the office, winking at Peter, who gave her a grateful smile in return.

Peter laid the folder of his photos on Jamison’s desk. “Here ya go, sir. I have some good shots of Spiderman, but I really want you to see the shots I took of the city.” He pulled out the park shot. “This one really shows—”

Jamison fixed a glare on him and Peter froze. “It’s crap. Next. Here, let me look.” The publisher picked up the whole folder, skimming through each. “Crap, crap. More crap. Crap.” Each comment made Peter shrink inside just a little, his confidence waning.

“Oh!” Suddenly, Jamison’s face lit up. “Well…lookit what we have here! Robbie! In my office!” Peter perked up, wondering which photo had caught his eye. Jamison only ever had gotten excited over pictures of Spiderman doing something “supposedly” bad but there was nothing new in anything Peter had brought today that he could think of. But, Jamison never called the chief editor in to comment unless it was something big.

Robbie came into the office, huffing as he hurried. “What is it, JJ? We’re close to print times. I need to get back.”

Jamison turned the photo around and Peter’s stomach dropped, horror leaching the color from his already pale skin even further. “We’ve finally caught that menace in deep! Isn’t this that crazy mercenary who goes around killing people and causing chaos? Spidey has finally gone bad. And this proves it!”

Robbie frowned. “JJ, that proves nothing.”

“It proves they work together. Which means Spiderman probably kills too and uses this Deadpool as a cover to get away with it. Because no one wants to believe he’s just a menace of society.”

The photo showed a view of Spiderman and Deadpool, fighting a bunch of criminals in a warehouse they had taken down just days ago in an attempt to rescue a group of women from sex traffickers. They’d been successful and Deadpool had gotten…carried away as usual, leaving a bloody mess in his wake. But, he’d done it because Spiderman…Peter had been shot in the leg and pinned down. Without Deadpool’s overly enthusiastic help, Spiderman might not have survived.

Peter had hoped to capture a few decent shots of just himself beating up the bad guys. None of the developed shots had been appropriate for this meeting…for this exact reason. Every photo had contained blood or killing. All by Deadpool. And this particular shot showed him fucking shish-kabobbing one guy while slicing the head off another; Spiderman right behind, standing in a pool of blood, web shooting another to the wall.

Not a great impression.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Mr. Jamison,” Peter said. “I couldn’t get too close but, Spiderman didn’t kill any of those people. He was just there to save those women. He’s innocent.”

Robbie nodded. “Exactly. No one’s going to believe that Spiderman would go that far. He’s saved way too many people. And besides, Peter was there. He saw it.”

“Well, then we’ll make ‘em believe! With all these freaks running around in masks and powers, the world isn’t safe! I want this published, ASAP. With the words; “Spiderman Gone Rogue, and new Mercenary Partner; Deadpool!” Go on, Robbie, make it happen!” Jamison ordered. He handed the picture to Robbie and the editor sighed.

“Fine…” Robbie gave Peter an apologetic smile and left the office.

“Wait! I don’t want to sell that one. It was in there by mistake. I won’t give you permission to release it!” Peter argued.

Jamison raised a brow. “It’s already done. And, for $300! You released all your photos when you signed the form the first time; past, present and future. Now, go get your money from Patty. Get out of my office!”






Within two hours, the photo had been printed in the papers, less than that to be released on the Daily Bugle’s website. It had immediately gone viral. Peter didn’t know what to do. Deadpool would very likely kill him for letting his picture go public. The man made a living on the majority of people not knowing who he was. He could kill, get paid and disappear. But now?

“Shit…” Peter groaned. He’d fled to his apartment, locking every window and double checking the lock on his door. He wasn’t sure if Deadpool knew where he lived. Or if he knew who Spiderman actually was. It wouldn’t take long for the merc’ to track down the photographer with “Photo by Peter Parker” plastered all over the tagline underneath. The mercenary was just crazy enough, he might kill Peter over the offense. He’d always been a hair trigger, and completely unpredictable. Except for that he’d was crazy and unpredictable. You could almost count on him to be that way. Which sorta’ of made him…predictable, in a sense.

Peter was Spiderman, so of course, he could defend himself if need be. But, Deadpool didn’t have limits like Peter imposed on himself. Deadpool went after who and whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, fuck the consequences. And when he wanted someone dead, they usually got marked off the list without delay. The true reason that made Peter scared even though they had begun to become friends. He had no idea how this would play out.

His phone chimed. Peter jumped, falling off the couch. “Jeezuz Christ!” He grabbed the cell, checking the screen. It was a text from Tony.

Are you crazy! Why would you give the DB that photo? He texted.

It was an accident. JJ took it before I could stop him. Peter replied.

Damn. Jarvis is doing his best to delete the internet’s version, but this thing is blowing up. He might have seen it already. You should get somewhere safe. Penny says to come here. Tony sent back.

No. If Deadpool has seen it, he’ll be looking for me. I don’t want anyone else in danger. Thanks. But, I’ll be okay. No worries.

Tony sent a frowny face emoji but said nothing else. Peter assumed he’d send some sort of surveillance his way, just in case. Typical of the gazillionare, aka, Ironman. The Avengers and Shield were all aware of Spiderman’s secret identity, Peter Parker. So, this new development probably had them all on alert, no doubt.

Peter blew out a deep breath and stalked into his bathroom. He splashed water on his face and gazed into the mirror above. After a few minutes of debating with himself, Peter decided to do the only thing he could. He stripped out of his clothes, revealing the Spiderman suit beneath. He pulled on the mask, leaving his apartment out the side window of his bedroom. It was time for patrol.

Over the next few hours, Spiderman swung around the city. He pretended he had no idea anything had happened, going about his usual duties of stopping muggers, burglars, armed robberies and the like. By the end of the night, there had been no sign of Deadpool. It wasn’t…entirely unusual for Deadpool not to join him on patrol every single night. He did have jobs to complete as a mercenary. But after the photo release…it left Spidey feeling anxious.

So…Spiderman headed home. When he arrived back at his apartment, he approached cautiously. But, there were no lights on, no signs of a break-in. From what he could tell, only Peter had been there. His Spidey-sense didn’t tingle, which would have signaled any impending danger. Still, Spiderman went inside, checking each room.

Peter sighed, pulling off his mask. “There’s no one here.” Exhaustion began to set in after such a long night. He sighed, shuffling to his bedroom, half-hazardly pulling off the suit as he stepped toward the bed. When Spidey finally hit the pillow, he passed out immediately.

The next day was just as quiet. Tony had successfully deleted all sources of the picture from the net. Shield had found every version printed and burned it. Natasha went an extra step, sneaking into the DB and stole the copy out of Robbie’s file cabinet. The only remaining version of the photo was the original roll of film, tucked safely away in Peter’s darkroom.

Days turned into a week. Then a week into two until a month had passed. Any buzz about Spiderman’s less than sparkly reputation settled and dissipated. And, Deadpool’s minor moment of fame fizzled out with only the police keeping an eye out for the known killer. Even Shield and the Avengers relaxed, going back to their normal duties as Peter went about his life and nightly patrols.

There was no sign of Deadpool. There was nothing to indicate he had even seen the news…except that he hadn’t shown since. Which made Spiderman begin to worry even more. Deadpool would normally accompany him on at least one or two nights a week…but he could be occupied with a job. Soon, even Peter began to relax after another month passed. Life was back to normal; school, photography, patrols.


The door chimed as Peter pushed open the entrance to the local coffee shop. He hefted his backpack on his shoulder, taking his place in line. He wiped at the sleep in his eyes, letting out a loud yawn.

“Late night?” someone asked, close behind.

Peter glanced back, nodding to the hooded stranger. “Yeah. You could say that.”

Peter couldn’t see much of the person’s face, but they were male, at least a foot taller than himself and built. Even through the two layers of hoodie and jacket, he could tell this guy worked out. But, he wasn’t wrestling ring bulky; more lean, athletic with some bulk like a UFC fighter. His jaw was well defined but covered in skin that had seen nasty burns in the past. Peter schooled his face to be blank, not wanting to offend this person accidentally with a stupid expression. In fact, he wondered what this new guy looked like from behind.

“What’s keeping you up so late?” the man asked, his head tilting to the side.

Peter blinked. “Uh…School, mostly.” He jiggled his shoulder, indicating the backpack. “I take a lot of advanced science and engineering classes at the university around here.”

“Oh…huh. Must be tough. I can barely keep my red crayon and my black crayon inside the lines,” the man replied, a big grin on his face. Peter’s heart fluttered, butterflies twirling in his stomach at the sight. The man stepped a bit closer. “Would it be okay if I bought your coffee?”

Peter stuttered, unable to form words. Instead, he smiled back. As Peter, he’d never in his life been hit on or flirted with. He had always done the pursuing. And this was the first time it was a man involved. Peter had always swung either way but never acted on the latter. He hadn’t really flirted with anyone since…Gwen. Peter’s smile faltered, and he turned away to catch himself.

“Everything okay?”

Peter cleared his throat. He turned back. “Yeah. I’m good…Coffee. Coffee would be great, thank you.” As they approached the counter, the man placed a hand on the small of his back. Peter shot him a look in surprise, but the man smiled softly, innocently.

“We’ll take two drinks. I’ll have a French vanilla Frappuccino; extra, and I mean extra, whip cream. Don’t be stingy with it. Lots of chocolate sauce, sprinkles. A dab of peanuts, and a cherry. Do not forget my cherry. And, for you?”

Peter raised a brow and exchanged looks with the barista. “Uh…just a regular blend coffee. With one cream, two sugars. Thanks.”


Peter looked at the man expectantly. The man smiled back, almost baring his teeth at Peter in a predatorial way. Peter couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but a shiver travelled up his spine. “Wade. Wade Wilson.”

“And…I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

The barista looked between the two men and rolled their eyes. “Only need the first name, guys.”

Peter’s gaze snapped back. “Oh! Right. Sorry.” The two shuffled away from the counter, settling into a table in the furthest corner by the wall. But, Peter could feel Wade’s eyes still watching him. It wasn’t setting off his Spidey-sense, so Peter didn’t think it was a bad gaze. But, it definitely didn’t feel…safe.

“So…where are you headed now, Peter Parker?” Wade drawled, sounding the syllables of his name out slowly.

“School. Uh…Class. Advanced Genetics with Dr. Connors.”

“Such a smarty pants, you are.” Wade leaned backward, but Peter could tell that even in that relaxed position he could pounce at any moment. He made Peter feel like a deer cornered by a wolf, yet something was so intriguing about the man. Peter wanted to know more. He leaned forward. But just as Peter was about to ask another question the barista called out their names.

“I’ll get them. Wait here.” Wade stood, slow and graceful. A gloved hand brushed over Peter’s knuckles as he passed by. Just as Peter had predicted, the man had a great backside. He bit his lip, chewing on the tender skin as he imagined what he might want to do to that ass himself.

Peter shook his head. What was he thinking about someone he had literally just met? He looked up as his coffee entered his vision, steam rising around a gloved hand. From this angle, Peter could see more of Wade’s face and it was just as handsome as he would have imagined, eyes a dark, dark brown like polished oak. He reached up, taking the cup from the Wade, fingers brushing over leather. Those eyes continued to watch him, filled with intelligence and something…more, heat smoldering beneath the surface. Then, just like that, those eyes filled with relaxed goofiness and Peter wondered if he was imagining it.

“Thanks,” Peter said, standing. “Well…I have to get going now…”

Wade sighed. “Right. Give me your phone.”

Peter raised a brow. “Why?”

“So…I can put in my digits, silly.”

“Oh.” Peter blushed, pulling his phone from his back pocket. He punched in his code and pulled up the “enter new contact” screen. “Her—.” His mind stuttered, almost dropped the cell. Wade had the cherry he’d ordered between his lips, his tongue swirling around the stem with expert skill. Their gazes caught as Wade took the phone, holding Peter’s gaze deliberately as he played with the red fruit. Peter swallowed, the sound audible. As the cherry entered those full, lush lips, they curled back enough for him to watch as lovely, white teeth gently squeezed the cherry until juice ran out and fell apart.

“Here ya go.”

Peter glanced up, barely registering Wade giving him back his phone.

Wade smirked, stepping closer again. “I’ll be seeing ya’ around, petey-pie,” he whispered into Peter’s ear. A hot blush filled Peter’s cheek. When he turned to reply, Wade was already gone.

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