Deadpool x Hydra Bob

BY : CanAm77
Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Deadpool
Dragon prints: 1336
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or Deadpool. I make no money off of this story.

I opened up the door, “What?” I asked flatly. He shoved me to the side and walked in like he owned the place.



“Can’t I just come over and visit a friend, Bob?” Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, grinned at me through his mask.



“You wouldn’t do that, plus you are not a very nice friend.”



He shrugged, “I have to lay low for awhile.”



“What sort of mess are you dragging me into now?”



“I was hired to take someone out and did, but part of the deal was to leave that person’s partner alive. So, I’m just going to chill with you so I don’t run into him and have to kill him. Or I don’t get paid.”



I wanted to protest, but knew it would do no good. And he had already taken over the couch and was changing the channel. “You know, I was watching that.”



“It sucked.”



I could feel a headache quickly forming. Mr. Wilson was going to drive me to tears without a doubt. I sat in my overstuffed easy chair and watched and listened to him prattle on about television. He was laying on his side, taking up the whole couch. The thin fabric of his red and black suit shifted ever so slightly over his muscles when he moved, trying to get comfortable. I had long ago known I was attracted to him. At first I thought it was just physically. I know how scarred he is and that doesn’t bother me. It was the movements he made while he fought, graceful and powerful that had first attracted me to him. Over the years, I have seen glimpses that he did care for me. I constantly try to ignore my feelings for him, I know he’d never reciprocate any feelings. But, that doesn’t stop my cock from aching, thinking about his heavily muscled body against mine.



I hated myself a little for having feelings for him. I had lots of things to hate myself for. But, really? What is wrong with me? Having feeling for Deadpool is like having feelings for a crocodile. And he was straight up mean. I have lost count the number of times he’s shot me. It didn’t matter, I’d still let him shove his cock down my throat. Fuck me against the wall. Whatever.



I shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide my arousal. I had to quit thinking about him like that. “I’m going to hit the hay, Mr. Wilson.”



“Kinda early for bed.”



“Yeah, I’m just tired. Please don’t wreck anything.”



“Bob, Bob, Bob. Have some faith in me.”



“Good night, Mr. Wilson,” I quickly went to my room and forced myself to go to bed.



***



The next morning, after I woke up and dressed, I headed to the kitchen. Mr. Wilson was busy cooking eggs, bacon and pancakes. And lots of it. “Where did you get all the food?” My fridge was almost always empty, I preferred take out over cooking myself.



“I went to the grocery store last night. Help yourself to what you want, coffee is on to.”



“Uh, thanks, Mr. Wilson. This is very nice of you.” I ate in silence. The food was great. I watched in awe at the amount of food he could eat. And it was the rare times like this that made my heart ache. Seeing how nice Mr. Wilson could be to me. Wishing I could sit next to him instead of across from him, maybe rest my head on his shoulder. Kiss him on the cheek and thank him for making me breakfast. Instead, I got up and started cleaning the mess he made while cooking.



***



The next couple days passed fairly uneventful. Mr. Wilson was loud and obnoxious. But, I didn’t get shot and he kept cooking for us. I went in the living room to say goodnight, intent on going to bed early again. I sighed and shook my head, he had found my deck of cards and was cutting them up and making them into puzzles. Of all the things he could be doing. At least it wasn’t my couch or something that was getting cut up. He walked up to me and pushed me, just shoved me. I don’t know why, but it just made me sad.



“What is wrong with you?” He asked me as he put his arm around my shoulder like we were life long pals.



It just tore at my emotions, one minute he could be a rude prick and the next he was nice. One moment I want to punch him and the next I want to kiss him. “Are you always going to treat me like this?”



“Like wha…”



I cut him off before he could finish, His arm was still around my shoulder and I turned into him, I went up on my toes and kissed him through his mask, his eyes popped wide with surprise. Embarrassed, I quickly pulled and turned away. Shit! He’s going to shoot me. Of all the stupid things I could have done to get shot. His hand grabbed my arm and he turned me around. I looked at his hand and frowned. His hand was gentle, I had expected him to dig his fingers into my arm and to be screaming at me. I bit my lip and looked up, unsure of what was going to happen. His mask was pulled up above his lips. My heart fluttered in my chest as he moved so his body was against mine. One of his arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me tighter against him. His other hand held the back of my head, tilting it back so my face was more exposed. He looked into my eyes for a moment, then pressed his scarred lips to mine. He was soft and gentle. I wasn’t sure what surprised me more, that he kissed me or that he wasn’t fierce and nearly ripping my face apart with his lips.



His tongue licked between my lips, making me moan and part my mouth slightly. He slid his tongue against mine, licking and exploring my mouth. His hands had started to roam my body, making me shudder and shiver from the sensations. His hands went under the hem of my shirt, sliding his fingers over my skin. He shifted his body against mine and I could feel a very prominent erection press against my hip, I reached a hand between us and fondled him through the thin fabric. He groaned and pressed into my hand.



I had wanted this for so long I didn’t even know where to start. He started pulling my shirt and mask off. When I was half naked he looked down at me and smirked, “Not half bad.”



I felt my cheeks burn red from being eyed like a piece of meat. But, it kinda turned me on at the same time. He swept me up and carried me like I weighed nothing, walking us to my bedroom. He sat me down on the edge of my bed and cocked his head to the side, running his thumb along my lower lip, “You sure about this?”



Was I sure about this? Really? How many times had I come on to him? I pushed down my pants till my hard cock was exposed, I grabbed it and stroked it.



A sly smile spread across his face as he watched me. “Lube, now,” he demanded.



I went to my dresser and got the desired bottle and tossed it to him, then peeled off my skin tight pants the rest of the way. I went back to the edge of the bed and kneeled on it, putting my ass on display. I wasn’t stupid, I knew I’d be the one getting fucked. I had been fucked by plenty of men and women, I never dominated anyone. I was lucky if anyone cared enough to get me off. I expected to have my hips held and get rammed into, but he kneeled behind me, licking and sucking on my inner thighs. His teeth started nipping and pulling on my flesh gently, making my cock throb harder. He continued his sensual assault with his mouth up my ass and to my lower back. Finally he took a slick finger and rubbed it in circles against my entrance, slipping a finger in with care. He worked the finger in me and as soon as he could, he pressed a second finger in. He pressed his lips to the back of my ear and nipped the sensitive flesh, “You look good like this, doll.” He spread his fingers in me, softening me up.



I was a panting, gasping mess by the time he withdrew his fingers. He pressed himself against me, pressing slowly into me. My breath hitched as my body adjusted to his girth. He was very gentle with me, which I thought about briefly until he grabbed my cock and stroked me with a firm grip. His warm tongue licked the nape of my neck as his other hand pinched and rolled my nipples. He rocked his hips against me, his movements shallow in me. I buried my face in a pillow, the sensual feelings turning me to putty. As he started to pump my sex faster and place more kisses and hickies on my neck and shoulders, it dawned on me he was solely focused on getting me off. I could feel his lips brush the back of my ear as he said “Come for me, Bob,” in a low, husky voice. And I was close, my body felt weak and on the verge of collapsing. He must have sensed it because he took the hand that had been playing with my nipples and held it to my chest to support me. I leaned into his support and went lax, just relishing in the pleasure he was giving me. I was leaking precum and his thumb circled the head of sex, then continued stroking me fast and hard. “M-Mister Wilson!” I cried out as my cock throbbed and pulsed as I came.



I was huffing and gasping for air, he pulled out of me and put me on my back and laid himself out on top of me. His lips found mine once again and he pushed back into me. His body found a nice steady rhythm, making my back arch and my legs wrap around him. His hands were constantly feeling and exploring every inch of my body that he could. His hands slipped under my ass, squeezing it tight, as he buried his face into my neck. After a few more thrusts he was moaning my name, his cock released deep in me.



He held onto me for a long while, then rolled us over so he was on his back and I was on top of him. He hummed a song and rubbed circles into my back, making me sigh with contentment. Maybe I wouldn’t be so irritated when Mr. Wilson dropped by unexpectedly anymore.



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