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Written for the Marvel Kink Meme here.

Prompt was: Deadpool/Daken. Deadpool tries to give Daken some advice about safe sex, because if he's not careful he's going to find himself in an mpreg someday.

Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violent but consensual sex.



Daken raised himself up on his elbows, the look on his face a rendering of blank disbelief. "What are you doing?"

"Putting on a condom, what does it look like?" Deadpool hummed happily as he rolled on the little latex balloon.

Daken sighed, wondering for about the fifth time that night why he was doing this, and he'd only run into the spandex-clad buffoon half an hour ago. "Why?"

"Well, I've noticed you sleep around a lot, sassypants."

Daken sneered. "So?"

"You got no standards."

Make that the sixth time.

"I have standards," Daken retorted. "Oh, were you wondering why I'm sleeping with you?" Daken's contemptuous tone didn't wait for a response. "As it happens, I like being able to do this once in a while." Extending his claws, he sliced Deadpool in the stomach, slashing through his innards. "For fun."

"Uhhhggggh." Deadpool groaned, pulling his hands off Daken's torso to hold the greater part of his guts in. "Well, whatever gets you off, but since you are now entering the Democratic Republic of Wade's Pants, you don't get a vote, Mini Wolvie."

Daken impatiently rolled his eyes as Deadpool bled all over his abdomen, and his words were short. "We both have his healing factor, correct?"

"That is correct," Deadpool pronounced, slightly lifting his hands and peeking beneath to see if the wounds had healed. The flaps of skin were not fully closed, but the cuts were on their way to mending, and his hands returned quickly to Daken's nipples. Daken wiggled a little to have those hands back on him, the stimulation an intoxicating promise of what was to come. Deadpool was quite good with his hands if nothing else, almost as good as Lester who by virtue of his talent claimed the #1 spot in that department.

"So neither of us can carry an STD." Daken wished for the at least the tenth time in the last twenty minutes that Deadpool was more susceptible to his control pheromones. All he wanted was for the train wreck to be quiet. "Let alone transmit one or suffer the symptomology."

Unlike Daken, Deadpool was still mostly dressed. The mercenary pulled off a glove with his teeth and spat it on the bed beside them. "What do you care? I'm the one who has to wear the raincoat."

Daken slid his body along Deadpool's, just to see if he could distract him from his dithering about the rubber. "Unprotected sex feels better," he purred. He'd fucked legions of little teenaged clubgoers who wanted to insist on prophylactics. Screwing bareback with zero whining was the single best thing about doing mutants, superhumans, and people who knew who and what he was, and he'd decided to take his clothes off with Deadpool for just this reason. Well, that plus the fact he could do considerable no-strings violence to the mercenary and still be fucking someone alive. He'd been telling the truth about that. It was fun.

"No dice. You're adorable, but you're a total bottom. Oh, sure, sometimes you top, yeah, I've read those stories," Deadpool added as Daken looked like he was about to object, "but you're an anal slut and that drives a certain wacky subset wild. You keep being this careless, sooner or later some fanfic writer is going to knock you up."

Daken was too bemused to even cut off an ear for calling him an anal slut.

"...What?"

"And hey, it's your life, but it's not gonna be from my little swimmers." Deadpool slipped a finger farther down, finding his anus and stroking it.

Daken had the feeling he was possibly going mad. Maybe he should get up and take off. But then Deadpool pressed the first knuckle of his finger in. Daken breathed out, starting to like it again as he let the blather roll off him, water off a duck's back and all that. He was enjoying being fingered; he had most certainly been enjoying the friction of the nutcase's bumpy cock, if not his jabbering company and the thin layer of latex between them. Daken was torn. Yeah, he could get up and walk away, but he was still horny, and Deadpool was there.

"Go faster," he snarled, because Deadpool was only up to the second knuckle and going way too slow.

Deadpool complied rather eagerly, shoving the rest of his finger inside and adding a second without preamble, then a third, roughly. Much better. Daken hissed, as taken with the pain as he was with the pleasure.

"I mean, it's possible I'm sterile, you know, from the cancer and the cancer treatments--the cure is worse than the disease, amirite?--but you never know. They're powerful people."

"Okay, what the hell are you talking about?" Daken groused.

"Mpreg," Deadpool said. "There're some scary chicks out there, man. They'll do things to you."

"What the fuck is Ehmp-rehg?" It had been a long time since Daken found himself this confused in bed with anyone.

"Ehmp-rehg, Mmmpreg, however you want to say it. It means male pregnancy," Deadpool explained patiently. "To the fangirls. God, don't you know anything?"

Daken was annoyed, but even more than that, he was confounded. But then, he'd never fucked anybody totally insane before. Power-crazed, yes. Norman qualified. Psychotic, definitely yes. Daken's lips curved upwards as he thought of Lester. Dear, amusing, easily agitated Lester.

But not classically insane. Not like this freak.

He jammed his claws into Deadpool's waist and pulled him closer, eliciting a strangled noise. "Fine, wear the condom, I don't care. Just stop talking."

"Hey buddy, just looking out for you." Deadpool ran a loving hand over the taut muscles of his stomach. "I'd hate to see these washboard abs ruined, you know how pregnant bellies get all distended?" Deadpool lined up his cock and started to push inside, holding Daken by the hips, the only lube what was already on the condom. "Ohhhh. Oh yeah. It can be a cute look on chicks but I've never seen a guy rock it, it just looks wrong. Nevermind the stretch marks. OH hell yes, you're fucking tight."

Daken gritted his teeth as Deadpool's cock rammed into him, temporarily caring a lot less about the babbling.

"Ohh yeah. Unf. Man, I never would have guessed you've taken it from like every guy in this universe and some from D.C."

Daken floundered as Deadpool began fucking him steadily.

"Washington, D.C.?" Each word was now punctuated with panting and tiny, breathy pain/pleasure noises. "That... isn't a universe."

Deadpool started thrusting a little harder, and Daken had to admit that as disgusting as his skin looked beneath the tears in the spandex, and as much irritating nonsense as he spouted, the guy knew what he was doing. Deadpool was as great with his cock as he was with his fingers, hitting his prostate with every sharp inward thrust. "We would have totally awesome offspring though huh? They'd be Calvin Klein male-model hot, maybe get your slinkiness and my sense of humor. Hopefully my fashion sense." Deadpool glanced dubiously at Daken's clothes on the floor, a pile topped with his crumpled lavender buttondown and his wallet chain. "But the child support would put a real cramp in my style, and I don't fancy being tied to you for the rest of my life. And unless you're a lot kinkier and more masochistic than you're normally written, you probably don't want to go there." Deadpool reconsidered. "On the other hand, your father would cry and I bet you would dig that." Deadpool cocked his head, seeming to think about that for a moment. "Nah, not worth it. So yeah. You should really think about using condoms. Just a little PSA from me to you. I mean, they can probably break the rubber if they want to, but why ask for trouble?"

Taking it hard and rough in the ass in just the way he liked, Daken had mostly managed to tune out out the gravelly voice, but Deapool bringing up his father brought him abruptly back to reality. Didn't matter who or where, everyone always had to bring up his father. It pissed him off, and he growled. "Less talking, more fucking. Harder."

Deadpool obliged with the harder part, surpassing Daken's most optimistic expectations about this encounter, and put on speed to boot. "Hey, does your dad know how much you get around? Do you mind if I tell him?"

"Okay, shut the fuck up now." Daken sank his claws deep into Deadpool's shoulders and twisted, tearing flesh and using the leverage to push back against him, meeting his thrusts. "Or I'm going to stab you in the throat."

"OWWW! OW! Okay! Okay. I'm sure he already knows, anyway."

Deadpool didn't really mind being stabbed in the throat.
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