Titaswrld

chattttt my hyperfixations are slowly fading and now I’m obsessed with quackity #sendmerqsabouthim sfw or nsfw!

okkkk….tonight fr bc exams are over and I had a yummy steak😘 feeling #cuddly and #loving

ok im writing today LOOLLLLLL sorry college kickin my butt👅👅

I have a request for a deadpool fic, if you could make a very angsty story where deadpool thinks he is undeserving of love and never thinks someone in this world would fall for him 😭 he is self-conscious about his looks and never in his right mind it crossed him that he has a chance with the reader, but he would do anything just to feel loved. he's just a constantly depressed ball of sadness, and the only way he copes with his thoughts is his dark humor. while the reader is head over heels for that man, and she's showering him in love, but he only thinks it's because they're friends 😭🫶🏼

monster

description: wade wilson being insecure about his looks, not knowing if the girl he loves would ever love him back.

paring: wade wilson x reader!

contains: angst! with happy ending (i didn’t know how to end it😭)

w.c: 1.2k

|an: finally writing forreals again! i needed to get back into it. thank u for ur request, i hope u like it😇 reader is a baker bc i couldn’t think of a more wholesome career path😭

you’ve known your best friend, wade wilson, for almost a year now. starting off as just occasional friends, hanging out at each other's apartments, watching chick flicks, and eating your weight in junk food until your friendship grew into something deeper, feeling nothing but love and admiration for another and the desire to be something more.

he’s so in love with you; he knows that now. he tried to deny it; he tried telling himself there’s no way, there’s absolutely no way a woman as intelligent, as confident, and as kind as you could ever love a monster like him. He knew you deserved better—a handsome, young, intelligent accountant or something.

his field of work is dangerous; he knows that. killing random people he doesn’t even know for cash. large sums of cash, sure. but, nonetheless, killing. he honestly always found it humorous, a trained marksman, mercenary, and vigilante , with his super cool awesome, still in school to become a pâtissière best friend!

he knew you’d leave; he knew no human being on planet earth could bear even looking at his rough, bumpy skin. that’s why he’s yet to show you his face, never failing to wear his mask around you, even though you’ve known each other for so long now. he didn’t know why you were still around after all this time even with the mask on, he knew most people found him to be annoying, aggravating, and just an all around piece of shit person, but for some reason, you liked him, and you enjoyed being around him.

he’s never had someone so close to him, as you are with him. you’re so kind, so affectionate, and so touchy. he thinks it’s just pity, you’d never think of him as anything more than a friend.

he dreamt of being the man who loved you the rest of your life; he wished that he could fall asleep and wake up to your face every day, make you laugh every day, eat every meal with you, watch every movie and every show, spend every holiday together, fuck, even start a family. he craved you. he craved your love, your care, and your kindness; he wanted to be normal with you, but he’s not normal, far from it. he knew better than that. he knew he didn’t deserve that. he would never be the man that you love.

he’s not ready to let you go, but he can’t keep his feelings for you inside any longer. he honestly dug himself into an even deeper hole, choosing to come over almost every free night he had. he couldn’t stay away from you; he hated being away from you. during every mission and every fight, all he thought about was coming home to you. you’re the only person who truly understood him for the man that he is, and he loves you for that. he’s never opened up to anybody the way that he’d opened up to you. you were special, so special to him. he was terrified.

you felt hopeless, stupid, and desperate. every advance you made, you’d failed. from baking him his favorite treats, to holding his hand while you watched a movie on the couch, to giving him hugs that lasted a little longer than necessary after a long mission, you couldn’t get your best friend out of your mind, not if you tried. hou crave him, his love, his care, his stupid fucking jokes that never end, his sarcastic nature, his sass—you don’t think you have ever loved a man the way that you love wade.

sometimes, he made you think that he might like you back, that he might have some sort of romantic interest in you, but it was quickly shut down after he made a joke, basically telling you that it would never happen.

you and wade were sitting on the couch, just talking, telling stories, and catching up after a particularly long time apart. until you had thought of a statement, that could’ve told you whether or not wade may or may not feel the same way.

your best friend, mia, had mistaken you and wade for a couple while on the phone. when you denied her statement, she apologized, saying she’s sorry for assuming, but you did spend all your time together..

when you told wade what she said, he doubled down in laughter before spitting out, “you? me? never. who is this friend? have i met her? has she seen me before? you might need to get her 5150’d.”

which did shatter your heart into a million pieces, but nonetheless, it wouldn’t stop you from trying to show him how much you care, how much you want to be with him, and how much you want to love him. he deserved love, and you wanted to give it to him.

each time he made a self-deprecating joke, it broke your heart. it was torture for you. the most he would ever do is lift his mask slightly when he ate with you, only to pop a piece of food in his mouth, then sheathe his face with his mask once again to chew, repeating the process until he’d finished. but even then, you never looked out of respect.

there were multiple occasions where you could’ve snuck a peek, where you could’ve turned around and saw his full face, but you knew how genuinely insecure he felt and how scared he was for you to see his face, so you never looked, not wanting to betray his trust or make him uncomfortable. you loved him, and you wish he understood that absolutely nothing could change that. especially not the way he looks.

today, you were sat on your couch, waiting for him to arrive. He said he’d be over tonight for the usual—rom-coms and junk food. but today, you felt different, your balls finally dropped, and you were ready to admit how you felt, whether it was a good or bad outcome, you were ready.

every single worst-case scenario clouded your thoughts, making your palms sweaty and causing a deep ache in your chest until you heard a knock at your door, saving you from plummeting even farther into your head.

you open the door, and time feels slow motion. you didn’t see deadpool; you saw wade for the first time- the real wade. standing there with an anxious expression plastered across his mottled face, snacks in one hand and flowers ripped from the dirt outside of your apartment complex in the other.

your stomach dropped along with your expression, the shock stunning you into place as you began to gather your thoughts. this is what he was hiding, you thought. jesus christ, all of that trouble for this? you could almost hit him.

wade, on the other hand, paced in your hallway, back and forth for 15 minutes before this, trying to decide whether he should just bail and leave the fucking country or finally stop being pussy and just show you his goddamn face.

after seeing your initial reaction, his head dropped, his gaze on the floor, as he muttered, “i know. total freak show, right? freddy kruger? craterface? cmon, lay it on me.”

now was your chance, as you cupped his face with your hands and pressed your soft lips against his dry, cracked ones. you felt his tense muscles drop and relax as he melted into the kiss, relishing in the feeling and making sure it was real, too.

you’d pulled away, looking him in the eyes and flashing a smile his way before placing kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin.

your gaze fell across his face once again, this time meeting you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“so— ten things i hate about you, or steel magnolias?”

oh to be wade wilson’s beloved girlfriend, whom he would do anything for, kill anyone for

daddy issues!

description: wade comforting you after having some serious daddy issues!

paring: wade wilson x fem reader

contains: angst, comfort, some dark themes, kinda 18+, daddy issues, dark descriptions of alcoholism, homelessness, just kinda sad

w.c: 1.7k

|an: lowk self indulgent highkey sad, i feel like this is kinda butt but lmk, also couldn’t decide if it should be wade pre or post deadpool so it’s up for you 🫵🏽 to decide. smut next i promise.

your dad has been a reoccurring factor in your life since you were nine; your parents divorced, he fell off the wagon, and he was almost a deadbeat alcoholic. except, despite it all, that was your daddy. that’s what hurt the most. you loved him, and he loved you, but he loved alcohol more.

your relationship with your dad was hard. he was your hero growing up; he was the coolest person you knew. playing his guitar, showing you the best kind of music, making you the best food, and showing you the best of film when he was sober. when he was drunk, he was unhinged and emotional, always terrorizing anybody and anything in his path.

as you grew up, you learned to just shut him out, accepting him for who he was. He tried rehab; it didn’t work. after he missed your high school graduation, your eighteenth birthday, and your college graduation, you learned to accept him when he’s sober and shut him out when he’s not. it wasn’t worth it. you spent half of your teenage years convincing him to quit; you spent too long trying to show him how much his drinking affected the people around him, but no dice. you learned to “forgive” him for the lost time, or more so, just get over it—the trauma, all of it. It still affected you, but convincing yourself you were “healed” worked better in your favor, as opposed to dwelling on what cannot be fixed.

it’s been a year since you’ve seen him face-to-face, and despite the occasional text telling your dad you love him and little life updates with the occasional response, he didn’t know much. a lot has changed about your life since then. that loser boyfriend your dad knew of, you dumped. a few months later, you meet your boyfriend, wade wilson. he was a character, and you loved him for it. you wish your dad could’ve met him before the alcohol got to his brain; he would’ve loved him.

honestly, you don’t think about your dad often, but when you do, you really go through it. it’s hard to hear how he’s doing, knowing his health is slowly declining, knowing you’ll never get your old daddy back; all these memories with him are just memories now, and you’re likely to never experience things like that with him again. Wade knew of this; he knew all about your dad. and he hated his guts, which he knew upset you, but he couldn’t help it.

he knew you were blindsided by the love you had for your father, but he fucking wasn’t. hearing about the things he’s done to you, the things he put you through, the things he wasn’t there for, and the way he traumatized you, he thought he was nothing but a selfish asshole, but of course he never said those words to you; all he did was hold you as you spoke about it and wipe your tears as he calmed you down with crude jokes, your favorite chick flicks, and takeout.

wade had his own daddy issues, but he killed his dad in cold blood, so he knew to just keep his mouth shut on the matter and do his boyfriend duties, comforting you and making sure that at the end of the day that you were okay.

today, you and wade were sitting on your bed, watching ta, and eating your favorite snacks.. until your stomach dropped as you saw that you received a text from your dad.

Hi, beautiful daughter. 😘

nothing bad, good…good. he seemed sober enough, so you decided to type out a response. hiding your phone from wade, as he laughed at something that happened in the show, he always told you to stop responding to him: “he’s drunk, he’s alone, and he wants someone to. bother; don’t let that drunk fuck ruin your days like that.” he’d always tell you..you never listened.

Hey dad! What’s up?

when your phone started ringing with an incoming call from "Daddy🩷,", you knew you were screwed. he always called you when he was drunk, and you always ignored him, saying you had bad signal, or were out and about, and he’d keep calling back and fourth until he eventually gave up.

“fuck!” you exclaimed. wade turned his head to see why you had shouted, and when he found out why, his expression dropped. jesus christ. but wade was sensing something off; you kept staring at the screen, your thumb inching toward the green button, as opposed to the one that read “message” to type out an excuse.

“youre going to accept the call? have you been smoking too much ganja? you need to lay off sweetheart.” he’d stated, wide-eyed and bewildered, that you’d accept the call. you always told him about what he’d say when you’d occasionally accept those calls.

“i kind of dug myself into a hole; he knows i’m on my phone. i can’t just ignore it, plus it’s been months. can..can you just stay in the room, please? i’ll put it on speaker; if it gets too much, i’ll just hang up. i can’t be alone when i talk to him.” you responded, panicking, trying to get all the words out before the phone stopped ringing. you knew it was stupid, but you felt so bad. you didn’t have the heart to ignore him today, knowing he was drunk and alone. you were all he had.

wade audibly sighed, seeing you so panicked and scared. how could he say no to you? “okay, okay, yes, answer it.”

you let out a shaky breath and answered the phone. you and wade heard a drunken “hey princess!” and you responded. long story short, it was the most transforming, life-altering, traumatizing conversion of your life. he told multiple stories, telling you about how he’s friends with all of these celebrities, having meetings with keanu reeves and brad pitt, how he was homeless and living on the streets for weeks until he finally found a hotel to stay at, how he got jumped, died for 8 minutes, then came back, how he’s famous, and how your mom was using him for fame.

all these stories proved to you how far gone he really was and how he’s not the same dad you knew and loved. you sat at the edge of the bed listening to every one, letting out the occasional response while tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. wade watched with a sad expression on his face. he rubbed your back to let you know he was there and you weren’t alone.

but then your dad started talking about how sorry he is, how sorry he is that he didn’t attend your high school graduation, how sorry he is that he hasn’t been much of a daddy these past few years, how he misses you and wishes he could hold and hug his beautiful daughter, and how proud he was that you were his daughter. how he was so proud of you and all your accomplishments.

as he started talking about this, his voice cracking and your drunken slur fading, you’d crawled into your boyfriend's lap, phone in hand, and hot tears rushing down your cheeks. this is when he started showing that he was still there; pieces of him were still in tact. you wanted to save him so badly, but that wasn’t your job, and even if there was no way to achieve that, he was gone, and you knew that.

wades expression began to crack as he felt a pang in his chest. as he felt your body wrack with more silent sobs, he cradled you in his lap, his nose nuzzled into your scalp, placing a lasting kiss so you knew he was still there. listening to everything your dad told you—in the flesh, he couldn’t believe it. the way he got mad at you for begging him to stop being so negative, the way he got mad and told you he wasn’t worth your tears once he heard your sniffles and strained voice—he’s never wanted to kill someone more, but knowing it would break your heart, of course he refrained. wade had never been this silent in his entire life.

after an hour of holding back, wade finally tapped the mute button in the middle of another one of your dad's drunken rambles.

“hang up; it’s over; it’s done with; you don’t need to listen to him anymore,” he stated sternly.

“i can't—i can't—he has nobody else.” you looked up at him, cheeks red and puffy, eyes sunken and swollen. he could hardly stand looking at you this way.

“babe, hang up the phone. i-i can’t look at you like this, and listen to the things he’s saying to you.” he said, sincerity laced within his tone and a worried expression plastered on his face.

you unmuted and gave your father an unbelievable excuse that he fought against but ultimately gave up on after you wouldn’t let up. after your dad hung up, you got off of wade's lap, reclaiming your seat at the edge of the bed. looking like a shell-shocked soldier, you put your head in your hands and wracked out more sobs as your body shook along with them.

“lt’s okay, honey; let it all out.” wade said from your side as his hand slid under your shirt and on your back as he began to rub small circles on your exposed skin.

as you began to calm down, you wiped your tears. your eyes were finally tired of all the crying, and your chest was in unbelievable pain from all the sobs that had escaped your lips. you said nothing as you climbed into bed, curling up into his chest as he took you in kindly, bringing the bedsheets up over the both of you to conceal you in the warmth of himself and the blanket.

“i know exactly what you’re going to want after this,” he said, cradling you in his chest and stroking your hair.

“what?” you said, your voice hoarse and muffled in his chest.

“hmmm… you’ll want to cook dinner together while we listen to chappell roan…watch she’s the man... then have hot, mushy, passionate sex.” he said in a matter-of-fact tone with some playfulness laced in between.

“wow, you know me so well.” you laughed into his chest, sending vibrations through his body, which caused a smile to break out on his face, bingo.

“well, looks like we better start soon huh?” he said, getting out of bed and flinging you over his shoulder like a rag doll to the kitchen. heart swelling as he heard more of that laughter he knows and loves.