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Untitled silly random Deadpool/Fabian Nicieza. Written anonymously (at first, cause whoa embarrassed to be filling this) for a prompt in the Marvel Kink Meme from here.

Prompt was: DEADPOOL/FABIAN NICIEZA, OR VICE VERSA. Dubcon, fourth wall fuckery.

DO NOT FAIL ME, INTERNET.


Rating: NC-17




When Fabian wakes up, he's lying in the semi-darkness on his bed, wearing only his boxers. He reaches for the topsheet, but he can't find it. He probably kicked it to the floor in the night. And Deadpool is leaning over him.

DEADPOOL. LEANING. OVER HIM.

Smiling playfully.

Fabian licks his lips as his eyes widen. Oh god, he must have hit his head on the bar last night a lot harder than he thought.

That, or he's losing his mind. Or he drank more than he thought. Oh my god.

Deadpool pokes him twice in the chest with two red-gloved fingers, hard, as if making sure Fabian's really there.

"Hey, ow! Cut it out!" Fabian snaps. This is nuts, he thinks.

Deadpool looks at him, puzzled. "It's not that nuts."

"You can hear my thoughts?" Fabian's at a loss as to how to explain to his fucking comic book character why this is nuts.

"No, I can read your thought bubbles. I guess it's my gift." Through the mask, he can tell when Deadpool gets excited. "Unless... I'm telepathic in this reality?!"

Fabian looks around frantically for his thought bubbles--will they be yellow? blue? Or will they be white, just cause like everyone else, he's not Deadpool? He doesn't know, and he doesn't see any thought bubbles floating around either.

"Hate to break it to you, but you're not telepathic in any reality, there are rules, and no one's ever written you that way."

"Damn. I was going to go back to Providence, see if Cable ever thinks dirty thoughts about me."

Fabian shakes his head. "Nope."

"Maybe I just guessed what you were thinking from your face, then." Deadpool sounds disappointed. Fabian gets distracted when Deadpool's hand slips under his boxers and roots around, charting the geography of cock and balls and folds of flesh and suddenly Fabian's being seriously groped, with Deadpool gripping his shaft and Deadpool's thumb on the head of his cock. Fabian startles so hard he practically jumps in the air.

"WHOA!" the word shoots out of his mouth so fast he almost spits it. The fabric of the red glove moving up and down under his boxers is silkier than he would have imagined. It's been ages since Fabian's gotten any, and he's not going to object to someone getting him off, it's just... this is so weird. "So um... what are you doing here?"

Deadpool shrugs nonchalantly. "Among other things, I'm here to register a complaint."

"A complaint..." Fabian echoes.

"Yeah, a complaint! You never let me get laid. How come you people never get me laid? Ever since Deadpool & Cable started. The UST with him was nice and all, but I want more action. Kay?" He pulls off Fabian's boxers and throws them over his shoulder. Fabian feels utterly naked and exposed and insane.

"... cause I know you couldn't openly hook me up with Cable, and I know I'm not Ryan fucking Reynolds in the looks department, but people love me, and judging by the Letters page the fans want to see me happy. Well, maybe they don't want to see me HAPPY happy, like capital letters happy, but they totally want to see me score, or I wouldn't be here." Deadpool slaps his hand back on Fabian's cock and is jerking him to hardness, and it's fast and rough and none of Fabian's ex-girlfriends have jacked him quite like this.

Fabian feels dizzy. "Let me get this straight. You're here because the fans want to see you score? Or because you want to complain you never get laid?"

"Both, see, the complaint's mine, and honestly now that I think about it, I can't think of a more effective way to get my point across than to fuck a writer. I mean if I shot all you people, who would do me then? Do me in the sense of write me, I mean."

The motion of Deadpool's hand, rising and falling on his cock, takes Fabian's breath away. "But the real reason I'm here is for the sex. Believe it or not, some fangirl asked to see this. I don't know what these wacky chicas are thinking bringing me here, but as long as it gets me laid, I'm all for it." Deadpool gives a thumbs-up to no one in particular. "Thank you, anonymous fangirl!"

Again, Fabian looks around, this time for a fangirl, but it's just him and Deadpool in his bedroom. Fabian feels his cock jump in Deadpool's gloved hand, and his hips jerk a little. "If it's anonymous," he gasps, "how do you know it's not a fanboy?"

Deadpool shrugs. "Fangirl, fanboy, don't matter to me." Deadpool takes his hands off Fabian's body to wriggle the red pants down, and he helps himself to some of the hand lotion Fabian keeps by the bed. Fabian feels glove-encased fingers, real fingers... real fingers?... fuck this is weird... prodding at his asshole, then sliding in and this has got to be the most fucked up most realistic waking dream he has ever had.

"Nah, it's not that fucked up."

Fabian stares up at Deadpool. He can see the outline of Deadpool's face through the mask, and Deadpool's smiling happily.

"Read your thought bubble again," Deadpool answers the question before he can ask it.

"Of course..."

"You made Cable absorb and puke me, and you think this is fucked up?"

Fabian doesn't have an answer for that one. Deadpool's still fingering him.

"Come on, you'll like this," Deadpool says in his soft voice, sounding breathy with excitement. "Plus did I mention I'm really really horny? It's been like forever." He glares down at Fabian. "But you already know that."

Fabian chokes out an objection. "Hey, I breathed life into you! I made you sympathetic! Kelly wrote you as a psycho jerk half the time, with Al and the Box and it's not like you and Siryn got NC-17
all the--"

He breaks off when Deadpool grabs him by the hair and shakes him. "You don't get to talk about Siryn! That was her choice!"

Fabian starts to apologize, but stops when Deadpool giggles and lets go of his hair. Fabian takes a deep breath. "Okay, but seriously, why aren't you harassing Kelly instead?"

Deadpool shrugs. "I googled his picture and you looked more cuddly. Plus, seriously, someone asked for this. I know, I'm as surprised as you are." He takes Fabian by the calves. "Here, put your ankles on my shoulders." He shifts closer.

"And I am fond of you, you know, it's been up and down with Cable but we have had some good times and some really meaningful moments. So thanks for that." Fabian tries to raise his head to see if the small amount of skin Deadpool's exposing is blistered and pockmarked from the cancer, but Deadpool pushes his head back down when he plants a loudly smacking kiss on Fabian's forehead. Fabian feels the warmth of his lips through the mask. Deadpool climbs on top of him, the red fabric rubbing against Fabian's naked body in all the right places. Deadpool's crazy agile, but then, he already knew that, he thinks inanely. Fabian lifts his hand and runs it over Deadpool's hip and ass, examining the flesh with his fingertips. Sure enough, the skin feels messed up, oddly textured.

"Oh yeah, baby, that's it," Deadpool says enthusiastically.

"Did I mention I'm not gay?" Fabian asks haltingly, with Deadpool's cock lined up with his asshole. For all his doubts, Fabian's achingly hard. Deadpool seems to be enjoying his nervousness, his cock twitching now and again as he rubs it against Fabian's pucker, waiting to take the plunge.

"Me neither," Deadpool confides, and then he thrusts in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fabian's never felt so satiated, or so totally weirded out.

"So is this really you, or am I dreaming or concussed or dead?"

Deadpool nods. "Want me to prove it? I'll sing."

"No, no... that's okay."

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