ꨄ tangled hearts • spideypool ꨄ

10 • haunted

Wade Wilson wasn't one to dwell on things. At least, that's what he told himself. Life was too short—or in his case, too long—to get stuck in the weeds of introspection. You laugh, you fight, you eat some chimichangas, and you move on. That was the formula. Simple. Clean. Easy.

Or at least, it had been.

Lately, though, things had gotten complicated. Or maybe not complicated, exactly—just... different. Because lately, Wade couldn't get a certain red-and-blue spider out of his head.

It started off innocently enough. Just the usual, garden-variety admiration. Sure, Spidey was good-looking (even with the mask on), and sure, he had that whole "friendly neighborhood hero" vibe going for him, but that was just Wade's type: sharp-tongued, smart, and always a little too good for him. He liked a challenge, after all.

But somewhere along the line, something shifted. It wasn't just about admiration anymore. It wasn't just a crush, either—Wade had plenty of those. No, this was different. This was... unsettling.

Because it wasn't just that he liked Peter's jokes or the way he moved in a fight. It wasn't just that he enjoyed the back-and-forth banter, the way their partnership had become more seamless than he'd ever expected. No, this was something more. Something deeper.

Peter's face haunted him. Not in the usual way faces haunted him—not like the ghosts of his past or the people he couldn't save. No, Peter's face haunted him because he couldn't stop seeing it. Behind his eyelids when he tried to sleep. In every quiet moment, when his mind wandered. That stupid, handsome face, with those stupidly expressive brown eyes that made Wade's insides twist up in ways he wasn't used to.

And it wasn't just his face. It was his voice, too. That soft, earnest tone when Peter let his guard down. That voice haunted him as much as anything else. The way it broke sometimes, when Peter was tired or hurting, and Wade could hear the weight Peter carried in every word. It was a sound that stuck with him long after they parted ways, echoing in the back of his mind like a song he couldn't forget.

"Goddamn it," Wade muttered to himself as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the cracked ceiling of his apartment. He'd been trying to sleep for hours, but it wasn't happening. It never did, not when Peter was in his head like this.

He rolled over, reaching for his phone, debating whether or not to call him. Not for anything important—just to hear his voice, maybe make some stupid joke to keep things normal. But that was the problem, wasn't it? This didn't feel normal anymore. It felt... dangerous.

Wade flopped back onto the bed, groaning as he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with Peter Parker, of all people. But it was too late. He knew that.

"Fucking feelings," Wade muttered to himself, kicking the blanket off in frustration. He hated this. He hated feeling out of control, like something was slipping through his fingers and he couldn't catch it in time. He was Deadpool, damn it. He didn't do this.

But no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the truth was staring him in the face. He had fallen for Peter—hard. And now, it was consuming him, filling up every empty space in his mind until there was nothing else. Wade couldn't walk down a street, jump off a rooftop, or even buy a damn taco without thinking about Peter. The way his suit clung to him just right, the way his eyes crinkled behind the mask when he smiled, the way his voice had that perfect mix of sarcasm and sincerity—it was all burned into Wade's brain like a brand.

Wade sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. He'd been avoiding this, avoiding acknowledging how deep this really went. But tonight, in the dead silence of his apartment, there was no running from it. No distractions. Just him and the truth he'd been trying to outrun.