All Things Truly Wicked Start from Innocence - Chapter 1 of 3: Fajitas!
Fandom: Marvel
Characters: Deadpool & Spiderman
Summary: Deadpool pulls an innocent Spiderman into his world of being a rogue and killing for cash, quite by accident, in fact...
Word count: 1861
Rating: PG-13 (FRT)
Spoilers: None
Notes: Written for a prompt from rounds_of_kink for round 27. Prompt: "All things truly wicked start from innocence" - Ernest Hemingway. Kink: rogues, society. Prompter: naemi. With this fic I wanted to try and give the plot some proper form and structure, because I feel that some of what I write doesn't always reach an ending that feels like a proper conclusion. Comments & feedback much appreciated! :)
Read on AO3
Spiderman swung between the skyscrapers in grand, sweeping arcs, letting the air molecules rush past his skin-tight mask. The sky was an inky black, and twinkling lights hovered everywhere he looked. Tonight was a calm, clear night, with plenty of moments just for soaring across New York City. Right after sunset there had been a small fight near a subway station that set off Peter Parker’s spideysense, but that had been easy enough to sort out. No big deal: they were just a bunch of teenagers. Not that Peter wasn’t still considered a teenager himself.
He pulled up onto a rooftop before he reached Central Park, sitting down to enjoy the view. He took a moment to relax and just breathe in the cool night air. He was always so busy - college was busy with plenty of lectures to get to and projects to do. And then he had his part-time work experience in the Stark tower, as well as his photography side project to avoid taking out extra student loans. His stomach growled, and he briefly contemplated going to grab some food while things were so quiet. The increased metabolism that came with having superpowers sometimes made it hard for his stomach to keep up.
But the quiet was short-lived. Soon enough, his spideysense began screaming for attention once more, luring him onwards towards a new crime scene. He jumepd off the rooftop with urgence and swung down over the street, before shooting a new string of web to yank himself back up into the air. His instincts told him he was rapidly running out of time. He began to regret ever sitting down to take a break - he should have kept on moving, and then he’d be several streets ahead already. With great power came great responsibility, and that meant no time for slacking.
Eventually, the sense of danger reverberating around his mind intensified, signalling that he’d found the alleyway he had set out to find. He stopped to sit on the nearest rooftop and take a look around. But what he saw wasn’t just your average mobster criminal.
In the glow of a streetlight he could see someone threatening a civilian with what looked to be two short, curves swords. Almost like katanas. The poor civilian was pushed up against the wall at, well, katana-point. What struck Peter as particularly odd is that the sword-wielder was dressed in red superhero-type spandex, much like himself.
Spiderman kept himself hidden, remaining on the rooftop whilst trying to make sense of the situation. Was the guy in spandex some kind of superhero-gone-rogue? Or was he stopping a criminal? Peter Parker’s senses were having a hard time sniffing out whose side he should take.
Unable to simply sit and listen to the threats, which judging from the shouting below were growing in intensity, Spiderman launched himself onto the ground below, landing with a dull, quiet thud. Peter coughed to interrupt the pair of them.
"Excuse me? What’s going on here?" Peter asked, keeping his voice calm. He wanted to avoid the situation escalating at all costs.
The man in the red spandex turned his head to look at Spiderman, keeping his swords pointed. reply. "Spiderman? Is it really you? Oh my chimmichangas! Nice suit by the way, looks good on you! Really, ehrm, brings out your muscles and everything. Anywho, I’d very much appreciate it, Spidey, if you’d leave me to get on with my job"
"Your job? And what exactly is that job, sir?" Peter tried to keep his voice firm. After all, his intention was to defuse the situation and stop anyone from getting hurt.
"To kill this guy, and I gotta do it tonight, or I won’t get paid. So if you could please stop distracting me, it’d be much appreciated. However, in case you plan on waiting around until I’m done so we can go and get fajitas, that’d be cool too, yanno? Just between superbros? Wait, this isn’t Super Mario or anything, what am I saying?"
Peter was taken aback, his mouth opening in surprise under his mask. This man - no, mercenary - was a big fan of his. What kind of inner moral conflict would someone have to have to be a fan of a superhero, dress like one, but then kill innocent people for money?
"Sir, nobody needs to die here. Put your swords away."
"Well, that might be a little bit difficult. I have a bill to pay for a new ammunition shipment, and this guy’s life needs to end in time for my deadline, so…"
Peter interrupted him by shooting two strings of webbing, one at each of his swords, yanking them out of his grip.
"Hey!" the merc exclaimed, and proceeded to pull out one of the many firearms strapped to his body, pointing it straight at the civilian again. His reactions were lightning fast.
Clearly it was not going to be as easy to resolve the situation as Peter had first thought. He rolled his shoulders slowly, preparing himself to fight if he needed to.
"Sir, put the gun down. If you don’t stop threatening this civilian, I will intervene."
The man in the red suit seemed to hesitate for a moment, muttering to himself.
Then he shook his head violently. "Alright, alright, Spiderman - how about we make a deal: I let this man go if you come and get fajitas with me after this?"
Peter was hardly going to say no to Mexican food, even if it was technically going to involve hanging out with some kind of crazy mercenary. Anyway, his hunger had only grown since sunset.
"Okay then. Put your guns down and we’ll get fajitas." Peter said, scoffing at his own words. Going on a date was unlikely to get anyone hurt.
The merc lowered his gun, and the frightened man he’d been threatening ran away back towards the main street. The mercenary ignored him, turning back towards Peter.
"I’m Wade, by the way. Otherwise known as Deadpool! Are you really Spiderman?"
"Ehrm… yeah. I am." Peter replied sheepishly.
"Well that’s just super awesome, isn’t it? Anyway, there’s this amazing place two blocks East from here that does these amazing fajitas. You have just got to try them, seriously!"
Deadpool clearly had a habit of babbling on excitedly like that. He was surprisingly merry and relaxed, considering he’d been threatening to kill an innocent man just moments ago.
"Sure" Peter replied hesitantly.
The pair of them exited the alleyway, and Wade began leading the way towards the fajitas. Deadpool kept talking almost continuously, until Spiderman interrupted him, his tone serious.
"Were you really going to murder a civilian?"
"You know, your’e rather naïve. You know that?" Wade said defensively, but his tone wasn’t too harsh. "That man I was hired to kill has mugged and attacked more than ten people in the last year, one of whom is now in a wheelchair and can hardly talk. Her brother is the one who hired me."
Peter didn’t know how to respond, staring down at the pavement as they walked.
"And you think killing will undo any of that?"
"No. But it does make me a living."
Peter hesitated at that. Did people seriously feel a need to hire mercenaries? And often enough that one could make a living out of it? He let the conversation fade. Peter was always short on cash. College was expensive, rent was expensive, and selling the occasional self-portrait to The Bugle just didn’t cut it most of the time.
Deadpool stepped inside the take-out, the customers waiting for their food staring at him in shock. Perhaps it was the red and black spandex suit. Or maybe it was that he was extremely heavily armed. Spiderman got a few glances himself - his face was all over the news, after all.
The guy taking peoples’ orders, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest.
"Hey, ‘Pool!" he said, as if greeting a friend.
"Hi! You see, Mr Spiderman said he’d come and get fajitas with me in return for a little favour I did him. Can we get ten of your moistest, juiciest and spiciest nine-inch-long fajitas?"
"Sure! Coming right up."
Wade must come here really often, Spiderman thought to himself. Seeing someone like him walk into a take-out and order that much food on a regular basis would take quite some getting used to. The pair of them sat down on the chairs to wait for their food.
A little boy, no more than 7 years of age, walked over to them, gazing up into Peter’s masked eyes.
"Hello Spideyman! And hello Spideyman’s friend! You’re really cool. You saved my dad when his truck got crashed!"
"Yes, yes I did. I remember that, little guy!" Peter replied. He didn’t bother to correct the assumption that he was friends with Deadpool.
"Well, I just wanted to say thankyou. Because my dad is okay now!" The little boy ran back towards his parents just as their order was announced.
Having picked up their food, they exited the take-away back onto the street.
"Where do you wanna go and eat, Spideypoo?" Deadpool asked, making Peter cringe at the nickname, almost giggling to himself. Since when did anyone give him nicknames that weren’t intended to mock him?
"The roof?" Peter pointed directly above them, paying little consideration as to whether Deadpool’s superpowers were actually capable of getting him up there.
Wade gasped in an almost childish excitement, clasping his hands over his mouth with wide eyes. "Does that mean I get to ride with Spidey on his webshooter?"
Peter was hesitantly assumed that Wade couldn’t just casually fly up to the roof on his own, regretting that he’d even suggested it. He was going to have to hold up his side of the deal and eat tacos with a mercenary and just do this. He nodded.
Deadpool Gripped his shoulders, and soon enough Peter had pulled them all the way up through the air. Giving people rides was easy for Spiderman, but he did prefer to keep his powers to himself most of the time, going out on patrol solo.
They sat down on the edge of the roof, gazing down at the bustle of the street below. Wade opened the take-away packet, and the spicy smell of Mexican food filled the dark air around them. He quietly offered Peter a tortilla, who gladly accepted it and took a bite straight away. It really was delicious, it had been a while since he’d eaten any Mexican food. Surprisingly enough, Deadpool had quietened down a bit, and just sat, glancing over at him.
"So, how often do you go eat at that place?" Peter asked, getting the conversation going again.
"Pretty much whenever I’m hungry and I’m not really near a mercenary bar where my friend works. It’s a really cool place to hang out. Not sure you’d like it though. It’s full of pool tables and drunken mercenaries most of the time, which is exactly why I really like it there."
"What makes you so sure?" Peter replied, a smirk hidden under his mask.
Characters: Deadpool & Spiderman
Summary: Deadpool pulls an innocent Spiderman into his world of being a rogue and killing for cash, quite by accident, in fact...
Word count: 1861
Rating: PG-13 (FRT)
Spoilers: None
Notes: Written for a prompt from rounds_of_kink for round 27. Prompt: "All things truly wicked start from innocence" - Ernest Hemingway. Kink: rogues, society. Prompter: naemi. With this fic I wanted to try and give the plot some proper form and structure, because I feel that some of what I write doesn't always reach an ending that feels like a proper conclusion. Comments & feedback much appreciated! :)
Read on AO3
Spiderman swung between the skyscrapers in grand, sweeping arcs, letting the air molecules rush past his skin-tight mask. The sky was an inky black, and twinkling lights hovered everywhere he looked. Tonight was a calm, clear night, with plenty of moments just for soaring across New York City. Right after sunset there had been a small fight near a subway station that set off Peter Parker’s spideysense, but that had been easy enough to sort out. No big deal: they were just a bunch of teenagers. Not that Peter wasn’t still considered a teenager himself.
He pulled up onto a rooftop before he reached Central Park, sitting down to enjoy the view. He took a moment to relax and just breathe in the cool night air. He was always so busy - college was busy with plenty of lectures to get to and projects to do. And then he had his part-time work experience in the Stark tower, as well as his photography side project to avoid taking out extra student loans. His stomach growled, and he briefly contemplated going to grab some food while things were so quiet. The increased metabolism that came with having superpowers sometimes made it hard for his stomach to keep up.
But the quiet was short-lived. Soon enough, his spideysense began screaming for attention once more, luring him onwards towards a new crime scene. He jumepd off the rooftop with urgence and swung down over the street, before shooting a new string of web to yank himself back up into the air. His instincts told him he was rapidly running out of time. He began to regret ever sitting down to take a break - he should have kept on moving, and then he’d be several streets ahead already. With great power came great responsibility, and that meant no time for slacking.
Eventually, the sense of danger reverberating around his mind intensified, signalling that he’d found the alleyway he had set out to find. He stopped to sit on the nearest rooftop and take a look around. But what he saw wasn’t just your average mobster criminal.
In the glow of a streetlight he could see someone threatening a civilian with what looked to be two short, curves swords. Almost like katanas. The poor civilian was pushed up against the wall at, well, katana-point. What struck Peter as particularly odd is that the sword-wielder was dressed in red superhero-type spandex, much like himself.
Spiderman kept himself hidden, remaining on the rooftop whilst trying to make sense of the situation. Was the guy in spandex some kind of superhero-gone-rogue? Or was he stopping a criminal? Peter Parker’s senses were having a hard time sniffing out whose side he should take.
Unable to simply sit and listen to the threats, which judging from the shouting below were growing in intensity, Spiderman launched himself onto the ground below, landing with a dull, quiet thud. Peter coughed to interrupt the pair of them.
"Excuse me? What’s going on here?" Peter asked, keeping his voice calm. He wanted to avoid the situation escalating at all costs.
The man in the red spandex turned his head to look at Spiderman, keeping his swords pointed. reply. "Spiderman? Is it really you? Oh my chimmichangas! Nice suit by the way, looks good on you! Really, ehrm, brings out your muscles and everything. Anywho, I’d very much appreciate it, Spidey, if you’d leave me to get on with my job"
"Your job? And what exactly is that job, sir?" Peter tried to keep his voice firm. After all, his intention was to defuse the situation and stop anyone from getting hurt.
"To kill this guy, and I gotta do it tonight, or I won’t get paid. So if you could please stop distracting me, it’d be much appreciated. However, in case you plan on waiting around until I’m done so we can go and get fajitas, that’d be cool too, yanno? Just between superbros? Wait, this isn’t Super Mario or anything, what am I saying?"
Peter was taken aback, his mouth opening in surprise under his mask. This man - no, mercenary - was a big fan of his. What kind of inner moral conflict would someone have to have to be a fan of a superhero, dress like one, but then kill innocent people for money?
"Sir, nobody needs to die here. Put your swords away."
"Well, that might be a little bit difficult. I have a bill to pay for a new ammunition shipment, and this guy’s life needs to end in time for my deadline, so…"
Peter interrupted him by shooting two strings of webbing, one at each of his swords, yanking them out of his grip.
"Hey!" the merc exclaimed, and proceeded to pull out one of the many firearms strapped to his body, pointing it straight at the civilian again. His reactions were lightning fast.
Clearly it was not going to be as easy to resolve the situation as Peter had first thought. He rolled his shoulders slowly, preparing himself to fight if he needed to.
"Sir, put the gun down. If you don’t stop threatening this civilian, I will intervene."
The man in the red suit seemed to hesitate for a moment, muttering to himself.
Then he shook his head violently. "Alright, alright, Spiderman - how about we make a deal: I let this man go if you come and get fajitas with me after this?"
Peter was hardly going to say no to Mexican food, even if it was technically going to involve hanging out with some kind of crazy mercenary. Anyway, his hunger had only grown since sunset.
"Okay then. Put your guns down and we’ll get fajitas." Peter said, scoffing at his own words. Going on a date was unlikely to get anyone hurt.
The merc lowered his gun, and the frightened man he’d been threatening ran away back towards the main street. The mercenary ignored him, turning back towards Peter.
"I’m Wade, by the way. Otherwise known as Deadpool! Are you really Spiderman?"
"Ehrm… yeah. I am." Peter replied sheepishly.
"Well that’s just super awesome, isn’t it? Anyway, there’s this amazing place two blocks East from here that does these amazing fajitas. You have just got to try them, seriously!"
Deadpool clearly had a habit of babbling on excitedly like that. He was surprisingly merry and relaxed, considering he’d been threatening to kill an innocent man just moments ago.
"Sure" Peter replied hesitantly.
The pair of them exited the alleyway, and Wade began leading the way towards the fajitas. Deadpool kept talking almost continuously, until Spiderman interrupted him, his tone serious.
"Were you really going to murder a civilian?"
"You know, your’e rather naïve. You know that?" Wade said defensively, but his tone wasn’t too harsh. "That man I was hired to kill has mugged and attacked more than ten people in the last year, one of whom is now in a wheelchair and can hardly talk. Her brother is the one who hired me."
Peter didn’t know how to respond, staring down at the pavement as they walked.
"And you think killing will undo any of that?"
"No. But it does make me a living."
Peter hesitated at that. Did people seriously feel a need to hire mercenaries? And often enough that one could make a living out of it? He let the conversation fade. Peter was always short on cash. College was expensive, rent was expensive, and selling the occasional self-portrait to The Bugle just didn’t cut it most of the time.
Deadpool stepped inside the take-out, the customers waiting for their food staring at him in shock. Perhaps it was the red and black spandex suit. Or maybe it was that he was extremely heavily armed. Spiderman got a few glances himself - his face was all over the news, after all.
The guy taking peoples’ orders, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest.
"Hey, ‘Pool!" he said, as if greeting a friend.
"Hi! You see, Mr Spiderman said he’d come and get fajitas with me in return for a little favour I did him. Can we get ten of your moistest, juiciest and spiciest nine-inch-long fajitas?"
"Sure! Coming right up."
Wade must come here really often, Spiderman thought to himself. Seeing someone like him walk into a take-out and order that much food on a regular basis would take quite some getting used to. The pair of them sat down on the chairs to wait for their food.
A little boy, no more than 7 years of age, walked over to them, gazing up into Peter’s masked eyes.
"Hello Spideyman! And hello Spideyman’s friend! You’re really cool. You saved my dad when his truck got crashed!"
"Yes, yes I did. I remember that, little guy!" Peter replied. He didn’t bother to correct the assumption that he was friends with Deadpool.
"Well, I just wanted to say thankyou. Because my dad is okay now!" The little boy ran back towards his parents just as their order was announced.
Having picked up their food, they exited the take-away back onto the street.
"Where do you wanna go and eat, Spideypoo?" Deadpool asked, making Peter cringe at the nickname, almost giggling to himself. Since when did anyone give him nicknames that weren’t intended to mock him?
"The roof?" Peter pointed directly above them, paying little consideration as to whether Deadpool’s superpowers were actually capable of getting him up there.
Wade gasped in an almost childish excitement, clasping his hands over his mouth with wide eyes. "Does that mean I get to ride with Spidey on his webshooter?"
Peter was hesitantly assumed that Wade couldn’t just casually fly up to the roof on his own, regretting that he’d even suggested it. He was going to have to hold up his side of the deal and eat tacos with a mercenary and just do this. He nodded.
Deadpool Gripped his shoulders, and soon enough Peter had pulled them all the way up through the air. Giving people rides was easy for Spiderman, but he did prefer to keep his powers to himself most of the time, going out on patrol solo.
They sat down on the edge of the roof, gazing down at the bustle of the street below. Wade opened the take-away packet, and the spicy smell of Mexican food filled the dark air around them. He quietly offered Peter a tortilla, who gladly accepted it and took a bite straight away. It really was delicious, it had been a while since he’d eaten any Mexican food. Surprisingly enough, Deadpool had quietened down a bit, and just sat, glancing over at him.
"So, how often do you go eat at that place?" Peter asked, getting the conversation going again.
"Pretty much whenever I’m hungry and I’m not really near a mercenary bar where my friend works. It’s a really cool place to hang out. Not sure you’d like it though. It’s full of pool tables and drunken mercenaries most of the time, which is exactly why I really like it there."
"What makes you so sure?" Peter replied, a smirk hidden under his mask.