cow eyes
Regulus groaned, slamming the snooze button on his alarm.
Then he fell asleep again.
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
When Regulus woke back up, he rubbed his eyes sullenly, turning over to look at his alarm, which was crushed.
Like genuinely crushed.
Like crumbled plastic shards and wires hanging out crushed.
“Fucking proportional strength,” he grumbled.
He sniffed, picking up his phone while wrinkling his nose.
It had been a week, yet he still couldn’t get Deadpool’s smell out of his room.
The smell of leather and blood (?) and warm woody cinnamon.
Regulus didn’t really care, to be honest.
But it was annoying.
How many places did this hoe jerk off in to get his smell literally all over Regulus’ flat?
Regulus turned his phone on, blasted by an incoming call from Barty.
“First thing in the fucking morning,” he grumbled, picking it up. “Why are you awake? You’re never awake at seven.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence Reggiekins, damn, anyways, are you doing anything today? I’m bored.”
Regulus froze up. Was he?
He wasn’t that busy, other than half an hour or so at the Bugle and obviously the patrolling for Venom.
Okay, he was pretty busy.
But he wasn’t too busy.
He also felt an extra layer of awkwardness with Barty now.
He didn’t trust himself, and he felt like he’d blurt out at any convenience: ‘oh, by the way, I performed a Chappel Roan song thinking of our mutual crushes when we were 14, but I don’t have a crush on you anymore, but it does kind of hurt’.
Yeah, fuck no.
“I’m- well- I- what do you want to do?” Regulus cringed at his stuttering.
“I dunno, hang out? Like, you wanna go to the shops?”
“No.”
“Wha-”
“Ask Evan.” This was something Regulus was well versed in. While being aware of Barty’s emerging crush on Evan and vice-versa, Regulus could easily redirect anything he didn’t want to do to Evan.
Especially when it was involved with Spider-Man stuff, Evan had to say yes, driving them both further into crazy love.
“Reggie,” Barty groaned. “Don’t do this to me,”
“Do what?” Regulus asked innocently, laying back down and looking up at the ceiling from his bed.
“You know what,” Barty huffed. “And Evan won’t say yes anyways.”
“I dunno, you should ask him anyways, he might surprise you.” Regulus had no idea if Evan would say yes or no, actually, but if it got Barty to shut the fuck up if worked with him.
“Fine, Reggie, but I swear to god if he says no…” Barty hung up and Regulus let out a groan, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palm.
Regulus turned his second S.H.I.E.L.D phone on, looking through his Twitter feed.
liv 🌑・❥・ @livvv
my roman empire is spiderman and deadpool i must admit
lightyagamiwho @j
DID ANYONE SEE THE NEW DP TIKTOK😩
not julian🗯️ @not_julian
in bed thinking, do girls have post nut clarity
_____Replies_____
🎀🎻🐚 @urbae
oh yeah definitely or we’re just in a post nut haze for the next week
audreyy 🐈⬛📻🫀 @audreyy
Who wants to be the Deadpool to my Spiderman?
joana @televisiongirl
thought i saw a massive condom on the floor but it was just a glove😭
Regulus groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face (again) in exasperation at the average Twitter user.
He stumbled out of bed, standing still and looking around his room.
He stared vacantly into the eyes of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver (the poster on the wall, Regulus wasn’t doing any crazy universe shifting shit, especially not with four hours of sleep), recalling how shocked Sirius was seeing the posters on his wall for the first time.
Regulus didn’t blame him though, seeing your previous-neat-freak little brother’s littered room would be a shock for most people.
Regulus sniffed again, kickstarting his brain back up and moving from where he was standing still next to his bed.
The sniff didn’t help his annoyance at the Deadpool smell, also reminding him that he needed to fucking shower.
He gathered his clothes, trudging across the flat to the bathroom. He glared at the reflection of his eyes in the mirror for a few seconds, shaking his head to snap out of it and shrugging his hoodie and boxers off, stepping into the shower.
No, this was not a shower masturbation scene. This was a deep-in-thought shower scene.
Regulus turned the heat up all the way, barely feeling how it reddened his skin almost immediately and leaned his head against the shower wall.
He skimmed over everything that had happened in the last week, choosing to focus on how annoying the people around him were.
Everyone.
Sirius, Barty, Evan, Deadpool, even the thought of James infuriated him.
And oh fuck.
Deadpool.
That fucker was infuriating.
So incredibly infuriating.
With his stupid grin that Regulus could see through his mask.
With his stupid affinity for pop culture references and Mexican street food.
With his stupid muscles.
With his stup- oh shit, did he leave the stove on?
Oh. Wait. He hadn’t turned it on in the last few days.
Anyways, back to his intense hatred of Deadpool.
He hated his dumb stupid voice.
He hated his dumb stupid mercenary-ness.
Was he even being a merc anymore? How many marks was he taking on without Regulus knowing?
Regulus had voiced his disapproval at the decision, but do what you gotta do, whatever.
Also, he’ll take the intermission to talk about how much he hated James motherfucking Potter. So much.
How dare he take away Sirius and then attempt to be nice to Regulus?
How dare Regulus not be more bothered?
Anyways, back to it:
Regulus hated his dumb stupid muscles too.
Had he mentioned that?
Regulus had caught himself looking more than once looking as Deadpool hauled himself up onto something.
He had caught himself looking at those thighs too. Damn. Those fucking thighs.
Luckily, Regulus caught himself before his eyes drifted up to between Deadpool’s thighs.
Bloody hell.
Regulus glanced down at his growing erection.
Oh fuck.
Think, Regulus, he willed himself, trying hard not to think about the growing heat of blush on his cheeks. Also, the growing heat between his own thighs.
Remember: no shower masturbation scene.
Mushy peas.
Cold showers.
Cockroaches.
The essay he had due in a few days.
Regulus, so deep in his thoughts about not letting the erection get to its full final boss form, didn’t even hear the door creak open while he was in the shower. He did, however, hearing the lid of the toilet closing and someone sitting on it.
Regulus’ blood ran cold, cursing out his spidey senses for not alerting him of the very obvious threat before.
Who the fuck was in his bathroom?
He sucked in a breath, surveying his cramped shower for any weapon he could grab, squinting at a razor on the shelf and picking it up.
He covered his mouth, looking up at the ceiling trying to steel himself and not think about how he was completely naked and only covered by the steam on the door and how he had splurged for that frosted window film on his shower door halfway up.
Regulus reached out to grab the door, prepared to cut someone up with the half dull razor in his hand, when he heard a loud, dramatic sigh.
“Hey Reggie, you know what Remus said to me today?”
No fucking way.
“Sirius?” Regulus asked, voice light and airy like consoling a child and trying to get them down from a tree. “Whaaat are you doing?”
“Telling you about my day,” Sirius replied, sounding an awful lot like an oblivious child.
“Now?” Regulus still had his condescending voice on, more focused on getting his own heart rate down and trying to prevent the possible cardiac arrest that would’ve happened.
“Why not?”
“ I’M IN THE FUCKING SHOWER!” Regulus yelled, trying to get himself as far away from the door as possible, so Sirius couldn’t see any of his man bits.
“Well James lets me talk to him while he’s in the shower,” Regulus could practically hear Sirius pout.
“I’m not James though, go talk to him!” Regulus snapped incredulously.
“He’s busy.” There it was. That Sirius Black pout. Back in full force.
“You know what Sirius?” Regulus snarled. “I bet he wanks to your voice in the shower, that’s the only reason anybody would be ALRIGHT WITH THIS!”
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
Regulus had decided to take the tube as himself, wearing his normal clothes and making himself seem as invisible as possible, which worked.
It had worked since childhood, actually.
Regulus was a master at staying under the radar unless he didn’t want to be.
Spider-Man, however - not so much.
Ironic that Spider-Man was the one meant to be staying further under the radar, keeping away from any possible Venom attacks.
So Regulus was stuck being Regulus on the tube.
He slid into a nearby seat, only half aware that he had his resting bitch face on.
To be fair, he always had his resting bitch face on.
Pandora noticed him before he noticed her.
“Reggie!” She exclaimed, walking up to him and being hushed by him. “What are you doing here?”
“I-uh, I’m going to the Bugle.”
That’s when Regulus noticed that there was someone behind Pandora.
Regulus narrowed his eyes at the guy standing behind Pandora, as if using her as a sort of human shield or getting ready to introduce himself to Regulus.
But Regulus already knew him. In passing, of course.
He had seen this guy around the Daily Bugle office, a budding journalist, if he remembered correctly.
“I know you.” Regulus stated bluntly.
“Uh, yeah,” the guy seemed to have spurred into action, holding out a hand to Regulus. “Xenophilius. I work in the journalist department of the Bugle, under Rita Skeeter.”
“Hm.” Regulus glanced at Xenophilius’ outstretched hand with a bored expression on his face.
“Reggie,” Pandora warned, giving him a knowing look.
“Fine,” he rolled his eyes, shaking Xenophilius’ hand, making sure to put some of that Spider strength into good use, enjoying how Xenophilius’ eye twitched as he felt his hand teetering on the point of fracturing.
Regulus paused, flitting his eyes from the both of them, observing their appearances.
The little colourful clips in Pandora’s hair seeming more meticulously put together.
The sheen of highlighter on the arc of her cheekbones and nose.
The Mary Janes she specifically brought out for special occasions.
She was standing close to Xenophilius. Too close.
“Do Evan and Barty know?” He asked simply.
Evan and Barty were both incredibly good at giving shovel talks separately, but together they were a completely different breed.
Also, taking in account for Dorcas and Regulus also giving their own shovel talks, Xenophilius was in for a rough time - starting now.
“Not yet,” Pandora conceded.
“Good luck.” He slid his eyes over to Xenophilius. “So, do you like Skeeter?”
Regulus had his own opinions of her.
“Well… she’s good with people.”
“Not what I asked.”
“No. I don’t.” He said without hesitation, which gained a hundredth of a point from Regulus. He was opinionated, rightfully so. But he was reluctant to let it show through so quickly. A good journalistic trait.
Regulus curled his eyebrows up slightly for half a second, looking away and at Pandora.
“Good luck on your date.” His eyes softened and he smiled slightly at her as she grinned and waved goodbye excitedly, grabbing Xenophilius by the arm and getting off.
Regulus heard their hushed whispers as they left.
“Does he like me?”
“As much as he can, yeah, did you see that little eyebrow raise-waggle thing? That means he respects whatever you just said.”
“Oh… okay, great. God, I’m sweating. What did he say about Barty and Evan?”
“Nothing to worry about, Xeno, come on.”
Regulus, deciding to play devil’s advocate, texted Barty.
obnoxious twat
get your threats ready.
WSIT ACTUALLY
WGAT
WHY
OKAY
BET
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
Regulus was sitting on top of a light pole, surveying everyone that walked past.
He had been waiting for Deadpool to show the fuck up for fifteen minutes, not really surprised at how consistently late he was.
Regulus squinted into the distance, watching someone moonwalk to face him.
Deadpool, that fucker.
Except he was wearing fluffy earmuffs and gloves.
“What are you wearing?” Regulus asked, leaning against the light pole after jumping off.
Deadpool pointed to the Spider-Man design on his earmuffs and mittens excitedly. “It’s you!”
“Yeah, I can see that. I reiterate: what are you wearing?”
“Oh, come on Spidey, don’t pretend you’re not cold as shit too,” he scoffed.
“I am not cold because I’m not a wuss like you.”
Deadpool sighed knowingly, shaking his head. “I know you too well, Webs. Here,” he produced a wad of cash from the pouches strapped onto his thigh and handed it to Regulus. “Go buy yourself somethin’ nice, sugar.”
“I don’t need-”
“Shh,” he shushed Regulus, pressing a gloved finger to his mouth, putting the money in his (unwilling) hand. “Don’t give yourself chlamydia.”
“It’s pneumonia.”
“Shh, off you go!” He pointed to a shop nearby and shoved Regulus in that direction.
He sent a glare Deadpool’s way (which he probably didn’t see ‘cause of the whole wearing a mask thing) and walked off.
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
“Don’t fucking laugh at me.” He muttered, walking back wearing low-hanging sweatpants and crossing his arms.
“Why would I laugh at you?” Deadpool scoffed, looking down at the sweats that were consistently half-sliding down Regulus’ hips. “I’m just happy I won’t have to fornicate with your dead, cold body.”
“Whatever,” Regulus huffed, turning around to walk away. He heard Deadpool’s breathing catch and a premature wheeze from his mouth.
“I- is that- I-”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Deadpool pointed excitedly at the text on Regulus’ ass.
‘DEADPOOL’S BITCH’ it read.
Obviously, it wasn’t Regulus’ choice, but they had nothing else. It was either that or a beanie that read ‘GIVE ME 🧠’.
Deadpool had unknowingly sent Regulus straight into a taboo R-rated souvenir shop, and of course Regulus realised what those fucking sweatpants said after he bought them.
“I love that,” Deadpool gushed, miming wiping away tears of laughter and chasing after Regulus, who was trying to walk away as briskly and quickly as possible. “Aw, that’s beautiful.”
“Stop looking at my ass.”
“I wasn’- okay yeah I was,” Deadpool shrugged unashamedly. “But would you look if you were standing right in front of the Bean in Chicago?”
Regulus whirled around to narrow his eyes at Deadpool before turning back around and walking even faster.
“So, what are we doing?” Deadpool asked, jogging to keep up with Regulus.
“As I’m sure you very well know, Venom and Eddie are gone. Completely. No traces that S.H.I.E.L.D can find. So we’re trying to find him.”
“But I thought Nick told us to stay on the lookout, not to outright go looking for him.”
“Since when have you listened to Fury?” Regulus quirked an eyebrow, still looking straight ahead.
“Yeah okay, that’s fair.” Deadpool shrugged, slinging an arm over Regulus’ shoulder, leaning completely on him and sighing contentedly.
“I- what the fuck,” Regulus grunted at the sudden weight, trying to push Deadpool off. “What the fuck?” He asked Deadpool directly.
“What?”
“What was that?”
“What, you can’t hold a little bit of muscle mass?”
“That’s not muscle mass, you’re just built like fucking Donkey Kong.”
“You sure? ‘Cause I don’t think this -” Deadpool flexed one massive bicep. Whoa. Like, whoa . Regulus had to actively try not to start drooling, because whattt? “- isn’t muscle mass.”
“Can-can you just walk?” Regulus huffed exasperatedly, trying to get himself as far away from his saddeningly gay thoughts, as if physically moving himself away would do anything.
“Fine, Webs,” Deadpool sighed, kicking a rock in front of him as they walked.
He started mumbling something under his breath, like he was singing something… oh no.
“-If I said he wasn’t hot then I’d be lyin’, please, handsome, don’t be coy, come on, fuck me, emo boy.”
Regulus was rearing up to deliver a quick jab to the ribs when he noticed the stupid grin he could see from underneath Deadpool’s mask and how he was holding up an air microphone.
“Nope.”
“Come on, Spidey, I know you can sing,” Deadpool groaned, trying to goad him into singing Emo Boy.
No fucking way.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Walk faster.”
“But where are we going? ”
“On the bus, hurry up.”
Once they were on the bus, Deadpool leaned into Regulus, whispering loudly in his ear.
“You know what?”
Regulus flinched, pushing him away. “Talk normally, I don’t need to hear you directly in my ear 24/7.” He said lowly.
“Fine,” Deadpool huffed, grumbling something under his breath along the lines of ‘doesn’t let me live out my spy dreams’.
But he’s literally a superpowered mercenary?
“Hey, it just occurred to me,” Deadpool started. “Are you legal? ‘Cause if you aren’t I’ll actually shoot myself because the flirting we’ve been doing is a huuuge no-no.”
“First off, we’re not flirting, secondly, I’m not a teenager. Well… actually… I’m legal,”
“So you’re either 18 or 19.” Fuck.
“I- damn it- well you’re probably 50.”
“Actually, I’m 20, so, perfect age gap.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, shoving Deadpool’s face away and looking out the window, only half-trying to see people who might resemble Venom.
He felt Deadpool flinch and tense up next to him.
“What is it?” Regulus asked, swivelling around.
“Uh… it’s nothing.” He sounded… sheepish?
“What is it.” Regulus repeated more firmly.
“I- uh, I saw a cow.” Deadpool mumbled.
“Like, a real one?”
“No. On a poster.” He sounded even more sheepish.
“A-are you scared of cows?”
“Deathly. It’s my fatal flaw. What’s your fatal flaw?”
“I’m not telling you my fatal flaw,” Regulus scoffed.
Truth was, he didn’t know. He had too many fatal flaws. He was just full of them.
Regulus snorted, because this was the infamous mercenary who didn’t think twice before doing anything, which usually ended up really good or really bad. He’s torn his own arm off without flinching. But, of course, one generic moo in the distance and he’s done.
“I know someone with cow eyes.” Regulus blurted out. Dammit, Regulus. What the fuck?
He caught the slight furrow of Deadpool’s brows.
“Not in a bad way, just…” fuck off, Regulus. Why was he talking so much?
The thing was, Regulus knew what he was talking about. Who he was talking about.
James fucking Potter.
With no reason.
“Like… puppy dog eyes?” Deadpool asked sceptically.
“I- yeah, exactly like that. But… bigger… and innocent…-er.”
Which wasn’t wrong, at all.
Even though Regulus had actually interacted with him a handful of times in the past six months and slightly more during their school years, he thought about him more often than Regulus would like.
His eyes were cow eyes. They were innocent and big (although that might just be magnification from those stupid glasses) and… cute?
They glinted with mischief while still looking disgustingly oblivious. Like a six year old who had just stolen a cookie from the cookie jar for the first time and was deadset on trying to hide it from their mum.
Regulus found himself wondering if Deadpool had cow eyes under those white ones.
Shut up Regulus.
Get back on track, Regulus.
“Do you have… like… a crush on this person or something?” Deadpool asked.
“What- I- no. Nononononono. Absolutely fucking not. My god,” Regulus scoffed out a laugh. “No way. Not ever.”
Could you imagine him? Regulus Arcturus Black. Having a crush on the stupidest guy on Earth.
“Okay.” Deadpool shrugged, Regulus secretly thankful that the subject was brushed over so quickly. “I’m hungry.”
“Too bad, we still haven’t found any trace of Venom or Eddie.”
“You’ve been too busy looking at someone’s ‘ cow eyes’ to notice anything,” Deadpool muttered (sullenly?).
“Well you haven’t been looking either.”
“I’m hungry,” he pouted again.
Regulus bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating whether he should or not.
He lurched forward and pressed the ‘STOP’ button.
“What do you want to eat?” He sighed.
“Wait- actually?”
“Yes actually, go eat, before I change my mind.”
“Okay, come on!” Deadpool nudged Regulus to get off.
Regulus rolled his eyes so hard they almost fell out, sliding off the seat and getting up to get off.
He knew Deadpool was looking at his ass and the writing on his ass.
“God, that will never ever get old.”