I am so totally still keeping it professional.
Title: Voicemail (And the lovely things it can lead to when you're in a spot of grief)
Fandom: Comics again~
Pairing: Spider-Man/Deadpool
Rating: NC-17.
Notes: Spider-Man just wanted to get home for the night, and get to bed. But he gets a very strange voicemail that changes all his plans.
Peter Parker had just returned to his small apartment, after a busy day of rounding up several purse-snatchers whilst posing for the camera. He tossed his bag haphazardly onto his bed, before rolling his arms back and yawning. At least his plans for tonight were simple enough; A good night in, some microwaved leftovers and a DVD. At least, that was the plan.
Wandering over to his answering machine, he hit “Play” and walked to the kitchen to grab some food whilst he listened. First message was from work, asking if he could cover another dead-end story for next-to-no money. But as much as he hated to admit it, crimefighting wasn’t exactly the most lucrative job in the world, so he kept the message and skipped to the next one. He groaned audibly as the familiar grating tone started up.
“Hey, this thi-…Oh. Hey, spidey! Miss me? Anyway, uuh, so something’s come up, kinda….urgent. Really come up, not for jokes or anything this time, ‘kay? So, hey, when you wanna get over here, about five minutes ago would be really great. I…sorta need your help on this one, alright? I know, I know what you’re thinking, “What has happened that the Great Deadpool can’t handle on his own”, right? Well….Hey look, just come over, alright? I know you know where I’m at, so get your spidery ass over here? Cool.”
Part of him wondered where exactly Deadpool had learned to correctly use a phone in the first place, but he couldn’t ignore the overly rushed and almost frantic tone the mercenary had been using. That, and he really was wondering just what had happened that he couldn’t otherwise take care of. And so he took a bite or two of the leftover rice he’d heated up, changed, pulled on his mask and headed back out the door.
Peter knew that Wade always kept a window open when he was expected, and he slowly made his way inside to find the older man in nothing but his mask, a robe and a pair of bunny slippers, pacing around his apartment impatiently. It didn’t take long for him to notice though, and Peter could swear his eyes went wide as he hastily sat down and started up.
“Oh hey! Hey, uuh, didn’t think you were ever gunna get here? Who knew there’d be bad traffic on rooftops, huh? Anyway, I got a bit of a problem, and I’m sort of out of ideas. Well, I was out of ideas about three hours ago, but you get the picture…”
Peter resisted the urge to facepalm, and took a tentative step towards the mercenary, folding his arms.
“Okay..? So what’s this about? I swear if this is another attempt to-…What the hell, Wade? Are you hard?!”
Indeed, even with them crossed, the bulge between Wade’s legs was unmistakable. The man turned his head away slightly and his tone grew more serious.
“…Yeah, well...that’s sorta the problem. I mean, you’ve been busy these last few days, can you blame me for rubbing one off whilst you’re out working?”
Peter was both repulsed and oddly intrigued by the mental image, but said nothing as the mercenary continued.
“…Here’s where it gets problematic. That was five hours ago.”
“Wait, and you’re still hard? You haven’t…I dunno, tried again?”
“Twice. But with my healing factor keeping pace and then some, I can’t exactly wear myself out that way.”
Despite the odd relationship the pair of them shared, Peter couldn’t help but feel honest sympathy for the man. He sighed, and sat down next to him on the shabby couch.
“…So, you think I’m going to help, how…?”
Wade’s response was hesitant, the tone of a man clearly out of options and not used to asking for help.
“…Well, ain’t nobody can get me off like you.”
“How did I know that was coming. But I suppose...I wouldn’t wish this on anybody, to be honest.”
It didn’t take long after that for Peter to turn, to kneel down before the older man sitting on the couch, still looking slightly embarrassed and sorry for himself. He smirked through his mask as he lifted the pink robe, earning a curt remark from the mercenary;
“Hey, don’t judge until you’ve tried it. Them robes are comfortable.”
Peter simply shrugged, shifting the folds of fabric until Wade’s erection was clearly visible. He paused a moment then to roll his mask up a short distance with one hand, as the other ran down his shaft slowly. He then took it in hand, stroking a few times and looking up to gauge a response. Oddly enough, far from the heavy breathing and soft noises he’d been expecting, Peter was met with nothing but a raised eyebrow.
“…Wait, this doesn’t hurt?”
Wade’s eyebrow stayed raised.
“Should it?”
Peter paused a moment, before looking back down and picking up his pace, his fingers running over the head of Wade’s cock. Finally a response, the older man leaning his head back over the couch and groaning softly. Peter soon realised that Wade’s healing factor must also be keeping him from the pain and sensitivity most men would feel in the same situation. Which was only going to make things harder still, he concluded with a sigh. He then leant in, pressing his lips to Wade’s member before letting his tongue briefly dart out to circle the tip. This earned him another groan, and it wasn’t long until Peter’s mouth had covered it completely. He began to suck gently, using his other hand to continue working along its length as Wade’s groans began to grow louder. Peter responded by moving faster, taking more of Wade into his mouth until the mercenary was all but growling through clenched teeth, fists curling around a pillow and threatening to rip it in two.
It was only a few seconds more before Peter heard Wade groan, bucking his hips up as he came. Peter lifted his head, keeping his hand in place as think spurts of come fell to the floor. Wade chose to sit there, head still rolled back against the couch as his breathing came fast and ragged.
They waited a few seconds. Then a few more….
“Jesus, even after that you’re still hard?”
“What can I say? I’ve got a lot of…stamina, I guess. …Okay no, this is weird. Mildly troubling. Any more ideas?”
Peter sighed once more, getting to his feet. He took a step back, still looking at the exasperated mercenary spread over the couch before him. He then smirked, an idea coming to mind. He couldn’t help but feel slightly selfish for suggesting it, but…
“What if we focused on something else?”
“Wait, I don’t get it. What do you mean so-….No. No.”
“Oh, come on. What have you got to lose? That, or we could just stop and I could leave.” Peter added with a sly grin.
“Well, that’s right out of the question. Otherwise, where would the fame and fortune be? There’re expectations attached, y’know.”
“Wait, what do you mean, “fame”? Fuck, Wade, if you’ve got a camera going somewhere in here…”
“No, no, that’s not it. I-…oh, nevermind. There’s no camera.”
“So, what, I’ll leave?”
Wade sighed, ran a hand back over his mask. Then he slowly got to his feet.
“Alright, fine. Anything to get rid of this thing. I swear, I never thought I’d actually be saying this. Or having this problem for that matter. Ain’t never gunna complain about getting there too early, not ever again…”
He carried on all the way to the bed, with Peter following closely behind. Once there, Peter started methodically removing his pants, seeming almost bored with the situation at hand. He was soon surprised, however, by Wade swiftly wrapping a hand around his middle, picking up the smaller man and all but tossing him onto the bed. He giggled in a stupidly high-pitched voice as he rolled on top of Peter.
“Gotcha! You seem tense, Spidey. Perhaps I oughtta loosen you up a bit..?”
Peter’s only response was to deftly roll over, flipping the unwary Wade onto his front and looming over him.
“I thought I said this wasn’t going to be about you sticking your dick into whatever orifice happens to be handy. You know how this works by now, surely.”
Wade growled in response, and Peter grinned. It had been a while since he’d had the upper hand, and it was hardly like Wade could complain anyway, not in his current state. Peter was quick to lean down, one hand supporting him above Wade as the other pushed his robe, which had fallen back down, apart and up sufficiently for it to be out of the way. Then he finished lowering his own pants, freeing his already-erect member, a small bead of precum already present at its tip. As many problems as it was causing now, Peter thanked the stars for Wade’s healing factor, allowing him to simply slide his hand lower still, before pressing a finger against his entrance as Wade groaned softly.
“Just….get on with it, already.”
It was all the encouragement Peter needed, and he decided not to even bother preparing. He simply moved his hips closer, his cock now rubbing up against Wade’s ass as the mercenary groaned into the pillow, his arms folded in front of him and quickly beginning to claw at the bedsheets. Peter moved back once more, then forward, the tip of his member forcing its way inside as Wade arched his back and let out an agonized cry, his groaning quickly turning into a string of curses as Peter continued to push himself inside. He winced slightly as he felt the opening grow more slick, no doubt by Wade’s blood, but he continued on anyway, picking up speed as the older man’s groaning grew louder, more husky as he buried his face in the pillow. Peter leant down once more, teeth nipping across Wade’s neck as he moved faster still. It was hard, almost painful, being so ill-prepared, but he couldn’t help but push himself deeper with every stroke, until every movement had him buried to the hilt as Wade kept groaning and swearing and calling his name.
It took a few tries, but Peter quickly found Wade’s prostate, and grazed against it as the man beneath him cried out in response. He grinned, obviously enjoying his newfound position of power as he thrusted in again, hitting the same spot and inducing a similar response. From there, it was only a few moments before Wade started spouting gibberish and curling his hands into the bedsheets. His whole body twitched as he came again, the thick spurts falling onto the bed as Peter quickly followed suit, bucking his hips forward and filling Wade as he groaned into the other man’s neck.
The pair of them simply rolled sideways to lay on the bed, and Peter pulled out slowly, before raising his head a little. With a triumphant sigh, he lay back down on the bed as Wade rolled over to face him. His mask (which had never actually been moved since this whole thing started) now had a small darker spot where he’d managed to drool onto it, an interesting example of the mercenary not being able to keep his mouth shut, and he finally managed to roll it up over his mouth, leaning in to press their lips together briefly. As he pulled back, Peter spoke.
“Problem solved.”
“Thanks. Looks like I’ll always have a solution if this ever happens again.”
“And let’s pray to god that it never does. ….And don’t you try to make it happen again, either.”
The only response from the mercenary was another giggle, and Peter sighed.
Fandom: Comics again~
Pairing: Spider-Man/Deadpool
Rating: NC-17.
Notes: Spider-Man just wanted to get home for the night, and get to bed. But he gets a very strange voicemail that changes all his plans.
Peter Parker had just returned to his small apartment, after a busy day of rounding up several purse-snatchers whilst posing for the camera. He tossed his bag haphazardly onto his bed, before rolling his arms back and yawning. At least his plans for tonight were simple enough; A good night in, some microwaved leftovers and a DVD. At least, that was the plan.
Wandering over to his answering machine, he hit “Play” and walked to the kitchen to grab some food whilst he listened. First message was from work, asking if he could cover another dead-end story for next-to-no money. But as much as he hated to admit it, crimefighting wasn’t exactly the most lucrative job in the world, so he kept the message and skipped to the next one. He groaned audibly as the familiar grating tone started up.
“Hey, this thi-…Oh. Hey, spidey! Miss me? Anyway, uuh, so something’s come up, kinda….urgent. Really come up, not for jokes or anything this time, ‘kay? So, hey, when you wanna get over here, about five minutes ago would be really great. I…sorta need your help on this one, alright? I know, I know what you’re thinking, “What has happened that the Great Deadpool can’t handle on his own”, right? Well….Hey look, just come over, alright? I know you know where I’m at, so get your spidery ass over here? Cool.”
Part of him wondered where exactly Deadpool had learned to correctly use a phone in the first place, but he couldn’t ignore the overly rushed and almost frantic tone the mercenary had been using. That, and he really was wondering just what had happened that he couldn’t otherwise take care of. And so he took a bite or two of the leftover rice he’d heated up, changed, pulled on his mask and headed back out the door.
Peter knew that Wade always kept a window open when he was expected, and he slowly made his way inside to find the older man in nothing but his mask, a robe and a pair of bunny slippers, pacing around his apartment impatiently. It didn’t take long for him to notice though, and Peter could swear his eyes went wide as he hastily sat down and started up.
“Oh hey! Hey, uuh, didn’t think you were ever gunna get here? Who knew there’d be bad traffic on rooftops, huh? Anyway, I got a bit of a problem, and I’m sort of out of ideas. Well, I was out of ideas about three hours ago, but you get the picture…”
Peter resisted the urge to facepalm, and took a tentative step towards the mercenary, folding his arms.
“Okay..? So what’s this about? I swear if this is another attempt to-…What the hell, Wade? Are you hard?!”
Indeed, even with them crossed, the bulge between Wade’s legs was unmistakable. The man turned his head away slightly and his tone grew more serious.
“…Yeah, well...that’s sorta the problem. I mean, you’ve been busy these last few days, can you blame me for rubbing one off whilst you’re out working?”
Peter was both repulsed and oddly intrigued by the mental image, but said nothing as the mercenary continued.
“…Here’s where it gets problematic. That was five hours ago.”
“Wait, and you’re still hard? You haven’t…I dunno, tried again?”
“Twice. But with my healing factor keeping pace and then some, I can’t exactly wear myself out that way.”
Despite the odd relationship the pair of them shared, Peter couldn’t help but feel honest sympathy for the man. He sighed, and sat down next to him on the shabby couch.
“…So, you think I’m going to help, how…?”
Wade’s response was hesitant, the tone of a man clearly out of options and not used to asking for help.
“…Well, ain’t nobody can get me off like you.”
“How did I know that was coming. But I suppose...I wouldn’t wish this on anybody, to be honest.”
It didn’t take long after that for Peter to turn, to kneel down before the older man sitting on the couch, still looking slightly embarrassed and sorry for himself. He smirked through his mask as he lifted the pink robe, earning a curt remark from the mercenary;
“Hey, don’t judge until you’ve tried it. Them robes are comfortable.”
Peter simply shrugged, shifting the folds of fabric until Wade’s erection was clearly visible. He paused a moment then to roll his mask up a short distance with one hand, as the other ran down his shaft slowly. He then took it in hand, stroking a few times and looking up to gauge a response. Oddly enough, far from the heavy breathing and soft noises he’d been expecting, Peter was met with nothing but a raised eyebrow.
“…Wait, this doesn’t hurt?”
Wade’s eyebrow stayed raised.
“Should it?”
Peter paused a moment, before looking back down and picking up his pace, his fingers running over the head of Wade’s cock. Finally a response, the older man leaning his head back over the couch and groaning softly. Peter soon realised that Wade’s healing factor must also be keeping him from the pain and sensitivity most men would feel in the same situation. Which was only going to make things harder still, he concluded with a sigh. He then leant in, pressing his lips to Wade’s member before letting his tongue briefly dart out to circle the tip. This earned him another groan, and it wasn’t long until Peter’s mouth had covered it completely. He began to suck gently, using his other hand to continue working along its length as Wade’s groans began to grow louder. Peter responded by moving faster, taking more of Wade into his mouth until the mercenary was all but growling through clenched teeth, fists curling around a pillow and threatening to rip it in two.
It was only a few seconds more before Peter heard Wade groan, bucking his hips up as he came. Peter lifted his head, keeping his hand in place as think spurts of come fell to the floor. Wade chose to sit there, head still rolled back against the couch as his breathing came fast and ragged.
They waited a few seconds. Then a few more….
“Jesus, even after that you’re still hard?”
“What can I say? I’ve got a lot of…stamina, I guess. …Okay no, this is weird. Mildly troubling. Any more ideas?”
Peter sighed once more, getting to his feet. He took a step back, still looking at the exasperated mercenary spread over the couch before him. He then smirked, an idea coming to mind. He couldn’t help but feel slightly selfish for suggesting it, but…
“What if we focused on something else?”
“Wait, I don’t get it. What do you mean so-….No. No.”
“Oh, come on. What have you got to lose? That, or we could just stop and I could leave.” Peter added with a sly grin.
“Well, that’s right out of the question. Otherwise, where would the fame and fortune be? There’re expectations attached, y’know.”
“Wait, what do you mean, “fame”? Fuck, Wade, if you’ve got a camera going somewhere in here…”
“No, no, that’s not it. I-…oh, nevermind. There’s no camera.”
“So, what, I’ll leave?”
Wade sighed, ran a hand back over his mask. Then he slowly got to his feet.
“Alright, fine. Anything to get rid of this thing. I swear, I never thought I’d actually be saying this. Or having this problem for that matter. Ain’t never gunna complain about getting there too early, not ever again…”
He carried on all the way to the bed, with Peter following closely behind. Once there, Peter started methodically removing his pants, seeming almost bored with the situation at hand. He was soon surprised, however, by Wade swiftly wrapping a hand around his middle, picking up the smaller man and all but tossing him onto the bed. He giggled in a stupidly high-pitched voice as he rolled on top of Peter.
“Gotcha! You seem tense, Spidey. Perhaps I oughtta loosen you up a bit..?”
Peter’s only response was to deftly roll over, flipping the unwary Wade onto his front and looming over him.
“I thought I said this wasn’t going to be about you sticking your dick into whatever orifice happens to be handy. You know how this works by now, surely.”
Wade growled in response, and Peter grinned. It had been a while since he’d had the upper hand, and it was hardly like Wade could complain anyway, not in his current state. Peter was quick to lean down, one hand supporting him above Wade as the other pushed his robe, which had fallen back down, apart and up sufficiently for it to be out of the way. Then he finished lowering his own pants, freeing his already-erect member, a small bead of precum already present at its tip. As many problems as it was causing now, Peter thanked the stars for Wade’s healing factor, allowing him to simply slide his hand lower still, before pressing a finger against his entrance as Wade groaned softly.
“Just….get on with it, already.”
It was all the encouragement Peter needed, and he decided not to even bother preparing. He simply moved his hips closer, his cock now rubbing up against Wade’s ass as the mercenary groaned into the pillow, his arms folded in front of him and quickly beginning to claw at the bedsheets. Peter moved back once more, then forward, the tip of his member forcing its way inside as Wade arched his back and let out an agonized cry, his groaning quickly turning into a string of curses as Peter continued to push himself inside. He winced slightly as he felt the opening grow more slick, no doubt by Wade’s blood, but he continued on anyway, picking up speed as the older man’s groaning grew louder, more husky as he buried his face in the pillow. Peter leant down once more, teeth nipping across Wade’s neck as he moved faster still. It was hard, almost painful, being so ill-prepared, but he couldn’t help but push himself deeper with every stroke, until every movement had him buried to the hilt as Wade kept groaning and swearing and calling his name.
It took a few tries, but Peter quickly found Wade’s prostate, and grazed against it as the man beneath him cried out in response. He grinned, obviously enjoying his newfound position of power as he thrusted in again, hitting the same spot and inducing a similar response. From there, it was only a few moments before Wade started spouting gibberish and curling his hands into the bedsheets. His whole body twitched as he came again, the thick spurts falling onto the bed as Peter quickly followed suit, bucking his hips forward and filling Wade as he groaned into the other man’s neck.
The pair of them simply rolled sideways to lay on the bed, and Peter pulled out slowly, before raising his head a little. With a triumphant sigh, he lay back down on the bed as Wade rolled over to face him. His mask (which had never actually been moved since this whole thing started) now had a small darker spot where he’d managed to drool onto it, an interesting example of the mercenary not being able to keep his mouth shut, and he finally managed to roll it up over his mouth, leaning in to press their lips together briefly. As he pulled back, Peter spoke.
“Problem solved.”
“Thanks. Looks like I’ll always have a solution if this ever happens again.”
“And let’s pray to god that it never does. ….And don’t you try to make it happen again, either.”
The only response from the mercenary was another giggle, and Peter sighed.