CRASH: A Deadpool Fiction
Written in response to @firefly-in-darkness ‘s Winter Writing Challenge.
Prompt: Unexpected visitor on Christmas Eve
Characters: Deadpool x Reader
Warnings: 18+ (Smut), Guns, Elton John, Unicorn, Corn Hole, Use of the word vociferated, guarenteed panty wetter.
Word Count: 2,462
You said your good nights and Merry Christmasses to your family in the corridor. The giddiness and glee of Christmas has never left you. You couldn't help but feel excited knowing that in just a few hours you would all be together again celebrating your favourite day of the year in the wonderful city of Manhattan. You closed the hotel door behind you, took a couple of steps, raised your arms and flung yourself on to the luxury duvet. The bedding engulfed you in it's thick, soft grasp. You let out a long, satisfied sigh as you gazed at the ceiling. The Christmas lights of the world outside were cascading through the window and illuminating the ceiling with splashes of beautiful colours. You could here the occasional sounds of passers by singing Christmas songs as they enjoyed the last hours of festivities on the eve of the big day. The butterflies in your stomach took flight as you reveled in the joy of the occasion and the anticipation of the day ahead.
"Hey Siri, play Christmas Hits". With an obedient acknowledgment your phone kicked into action and Step Into Christmas by Elton John started to project out of it's speakers. You leaped to your feet and started to dance around the room as you got undressed. You threw your clothes wherever you pleased as you twirled around the room. First your Santa hat is flung on to the bed post, your shoes are kicked off in to the corner of the room, your blouse thrown on to the chair, jeans over the TV, bra draped on the lampshade and finally your red Christmas panties landed in the trash can under the vanity table. As your de-robing came to an end, so too did the song and you launched yourself on to the bed once more. The soft fabric of the sheets felt delightful against your bare skin. It gave you that same warm, cosy feeling like sitting by an open fire with a hot drink on a thundery night in winter. You ran your fingers along the smooth folds of the bedding and up to the pillow. You knew you shouldn't, not here, not with a pillow that is not your own but you couldn't help yourself. It's Christmas Eve after all, you deserve to treat yourself. The bedding is so delicate you just know it will feel good. You climbed to your knees, grabbed the pillow, placed it between your thighs, lowered yourself down on to it and started to gently grind yourself back and forth. You were right, maybe it was the silky texture against you or maybe it was knowing that you shouldn't be doing it but it felt fantastic and you could feel yourself getting slick with each movement of your hips. You arch your back and look up at the dancing lights as you press down onto the pillow. Then suddenly, from outside, there arose such a clatter. The lights on the ceiling vanished for a second as something obscured them, then... *CRASH* A red figure came hurtling through your window. You let out a shrill scream and scrambled to gather as much of the duvet as possible to cover your innocence. "Cover her innocence. HA. The girl was playing giddy up pony butt naked with a hotel pillow. Any innocence she had has been left the other side of that hotel door!" The man mumbled seemingly to no one in particular as he rose to his feet. You could do nothing but stare in shock, transfixed in terror. Snowflakes and cold air were spilling in through the now shattered window. You watched as the virgin white snow stained red as it blended with the blood left on the floor. You followed the red stream with your eyes to the feet of the man now stood in the middle of your room and guided your eyes up his body. He was dressed all in red and black. You let out a frightened gasp as you saw that he was strapped with a whole host of weapons. You scuttled backwards and pressed your back hard against the wall as if to get as far away as possible. You notice now that his face is covered by a mask with two ghostly white eyes staring straight in your direction. You let out another scream. As if caught off guard he raises his hands to his mouth and let's out a scream of his own. "Don't do that, you scared me", he says in a tone riddled with sarcasm. "I'm probably not the man in a red suit you were expecting tonight! I'm a whole lot less jolly and a heap more Big Dick Energy. Let me introduce myself, I am Deadpool. You can call me Dead, Mr. Pool, D. Piddy, Duff Paddy or any other cool sounding shit you can come up with. And despite my strapping physique and assortment of highly deadly weaponry, I mean no harm to you. If anything, I should be scared of you, looks like you're packing a couple of bazookas there!" You pull the covers higher up and pull them close around your neckline. Then you just sit there, trembling through both fear and the cold as you gape at him. He wasn't lying about his physique. You notice the outline of his muscles under his skin tight suit. "I am incredibly sorry about the window thing, I was just having a little altercation with a friend and next thing you know, I have been thrown through a pane of glass. Standard Christmas Eve, right?" He let out a laugh and started to walk towards the window. "You know what? I will be back to apologise properly in a minute, I just need to have a quick word with my friend". He looked up to the ceiling and began to talk to it, "Don't you dare stop reading. I totally need to bang this hottie in a few paragraphs!" And with that he jumped out into the cold. You startle as you hear a gun shot from the street outside, a few moments pass and he reappears at the window again. You couldn't see his mouth but you could tell he was smiling. "Conversation over". He climbed back inside, the shards of glass cracking underfoot as he approached the side of the bed. "Now for my apology. Hey Siri, play Bump n' Grind by R. Kelly". The song starts to stream from somewhere on his person. *My mind's telling me no... but my body... my bodies telling me yeeeees* Deadpool speaks over the music, "You know what? In hindsight, this song is a little creepy and it's certainly not festive enough. Let's try something different. Hey Siri, play All I Want For Christmas Is You". The track skips. "Much better". You didn't know what it was. If it was his muscle clad frame, his so called big dick energy or just the plot having to be pushed forward regardless of narrative to a point at which the two of you are fucking, but you felt strangely attracted to him all of a sudden. You loosened your grip on the sheets and let them drop to your waist revealing your nip nips. Deadpool looked up to the ceiling again "Sweet Christmas, if you look half as good IRL as you are making yourself out to be here, I need to ride that horse to happy town. P.S. sorry Luke Cage, I didn't mean to steal your catchphrase." He looks back down at you. Your nipples were as hard as senior year Algebra because of the now freezing cold room but you didn't care. You whipped the cover completely off of your body revealing your sloppy south mouth. It was as wet a whales blow hole down there! "Well, this escalated quickly. Thank you writer!" He unbuckled his belt and his assortment of guns clattered to the floor. "Well, if we are releasing our weapons, let me introduce you to...", he reached in to his pants and lopped out his ginormous sex pistol. "... my weapon of ass destruction!" he exclaims. "Sorry mate, I ain't feeling in to butt stuff tonight. I haven't prepared the rocky road to be ventured by a wayward traveler tonight", you reply. "... My weapon of fanny destruction", he corrects himself. "It just doesn't have the same ring to it. Oh well," he shrugs. He steps forward and you see his pleasure sausage in all it's glory. It. Is. Huge. It is also knobbly as fuck which is a little grotesque but you think to yourself, "Fuck it, I bet that bobbly boy bone will feel bonza rearranging my guts." You leap in to action, open your mouth like hungry trout and gobble up his shaft. You take it right the way down inside you. It feels so deep that the only explanation is that his bellend must be half way around your large intestine by now. He bounced his hips up and down and your whole body is thrown up and down with the motion, slapping haphazardly against the bed. You are like a skewered pig! Your minge juice is splattering all over the walls as you flop about. He reaches over and spanks your ass hard. If you like it, he keeps doing it. If you don't, he stops. Whatever you want really. You probably like it. You try to say speak but you can't, what with being all full with the purple helmeted warrior of love. Your speech just comes out like this, "gch gyt cfrrrrch zkkkr glk pffft". "What was that?" he says as he pulls his manhood from inside you leaving you feeling empty like a gutted fish! "I said fuck me, Duff Paddy!" You plead. "I take it back, don't call me Duff Paddy that totes ain't cool". "Fine, fuck me like I'm on the naughty list and you're Santa teaching me a lesson". He slaps your face so hard that you spin 180 degrees on the bed, your slime well now facing him, ready to give him the toothless blowjob of his life! He reaches over to the bed post, grabs your Santa hat that landed their earlier and places it on his head. Then rams his candy cane cock right up inside you and starts talking in a deep voice, "Listen here Y/N, I hear that you are on the naughty list". "I am Santa, I have been a naughty girl. You should teach me a lesson". His deep voice booms out again as his bumpy womb broom penetrates your entire body. "The hypotenuse is the longest side of a right angle triangle", he bellows. "It is located on the opposite side to the right angle itself". This is not the lesson that you had in mind but fuck it, his winky felt pretty alright inside you so let's just crack on with it. You do loads of moans and stuff as the knowledgeable St. Nick rattles off math facts. Your pink penis palace is a slobbery mess like Fang from the Harry Potter franchise. The squelch of your fanny is so intense that with each thrust it sounds like an army of elves are juicing oranges in perfect harmony. With each energised pound it feels like a coil is tightening in your stomach drawing you closer and closer to climax as the fuckery intensifies. He stops and pulls out for a second before shoving his entire hand up your cooch. He starts groping about like and old man searching the bedside cabinet for his dentures in the dark. He grabs hold of what he has been searching for and pulls his hand out. "What in the name Santa's workshop is this tightening coil doing inside your foof?" He throws the coil out of the broken window and sticks his mangled meat all up inside you again. You cum anyway, turns out the coil had fuck all to do with it. And boy is it a big old cum. You scream really loud. Like "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! YEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS. I'M A FUCKING UNICORN ON A RAINBOW ROCKET." Fuck knows why you shouted that last bit but you did. Your entire body shakes like a bowl full of jelly. You're shaking so hard that you vibrate off the bed and hit the floor where you continue to pulsate. This is how your vibrator must feel when it falls off the bed post orgasm. Deadpool rushes over, picks you up from the floor and places you on your knees in front of him before sitting on the side of the bed, his tally wacker throbbing in your face. "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, Y/N. Make Santa's dream cum true and suck that slush right out my schlong". You don't need to be told twice. You gobble, gobble, gobble like a Christmas Turkey. You salivate on that clam hammer like a toothless grandma eating a humbug. "OH BABY JESUS, STICK A FINGER IN CORN HOLE", he shouts. Not usually your thing but we are nearing the end of the story now and you really want to taste that eggnog. As his bauble-esque nuts clap against your chin you slip your finger in. It didn't take long once your finger tickled his taint and entered his puckered poop chute (FYI no actual poop present, clean as a whistle. No icky stuff going on here) for Deadpool Santa to start emptying his sack and unloading his Christmas presents deep inside your throat hole. His cum started to explode from your mouth like when you overfill a mince pie with whipped cream. "HO, HO, HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he vociferated as he cummed. You swallowed it all up (because you were raised right) and got to your feet as Deadpool put his cock back in his pants. "Well that was fun," he said. "Hell yeah it was," you replied with a giggle. You gave each other a high five and he made his way back to the broken window. Laying a finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod out the window he rose. You watched as he disappeared into the night and heard him bellow in to the sky, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night". The End. Have yourself a merry little Christmas. ... "Psst, writer! It's Deadpool. Just so you know, I found your jumping between present and past tenses wildly inconsistent and frankly lazy writing. If I wasn't getting my willy wet in this one I would have left this story a long time ago. I can't be associated with this kind of shabby story telling. I probably would have hung around to watch Y/N getting off on the pillow though. That shit was hot!"