BAD IDEA ― deadpool & wolverine

FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR:
THE ONE FUCKING BED TROPE

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

KETTI ALWAYS LIKED ROMANCE BOOKS AND HER FAVORITE TROPE WAS ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

Then she met fucking Deadpool and she never hated someone more in her life.

They weren't really enemies and the guy had plenty (she's not wrong, everyone hates me but not Ketti, she just doesn't know how to cope with the attraction yet) but she didn't like him by any fucking means.

So when Peter got a call from Gwen that she was sick, and didn't want to "harm Ketti by swinging her home" (in the literal sense, unfortunately, Peter's not a swinger) she stayed with Deadpool and Logan on their "sporadic trip to bumfuck who-cares-where" according to Dumbass when she asked about the location.

With Peter gone, Ketti could stretch out in the car but Deadpool, of fucking course, was hungry at nearly two in the morning and begged Logan for a full hour to please take them somewhere with a hot breakfast.

Ketti just wanted to stick her head out the window and get hit by a truck, but luck wasn't on her side, unfortunately.

They pulled into a Sheraton — because fucking no way Ketti was staying in a motel, who the fuck did they think she was? — and Ketti payed because they all knew Logan would be too intimidating and if Deadpool opened his mouth, they'd probably be kicked out.

Twenty-one minutes later, the three stood in the only room available.

King bed, not a suite, because that wasn't available and two of the three sighed in unison.

Deadpool just hopped onto the bed and lied in a starfish. "It's so comfortable," he said to the pair, pulling his legs up and placing a finger to the mouth of his mask. "Come join me?"

"Oh my god, Logan, can you please stick your claws in my eye sockets and kill me?"

"Sorry, kid," Logan glanced at her. "I don't do that kinda thing anymore."

"Oh, this is a convenient time to be retired."

Logan didn't respond, just sat himself down on a chair in the small table, and Ketti sat across from him.

Deadpool moved into a seated position.

"Kitten," he grabbed her attention, "if you sleep with me tonight, I'll be really good, I promise. I only like somnophilia if it's consensual."

"Fuck my life," she muttered, resting her head on her hand. "How do I keep getting into these situations?"

"I find that he's like a roach," Logan told her. "You keep trying to kill him or get rid of him and he keeps fucking coming back."

"Aren't you guys fucking?"

Logan grunted in response.

That didn't fucking answer anything.

(We are in fact, fucking, and have been since that first night in the Honda Odyssey. You know, the scene everyone has written fanfictions about? Yeah, we fucked then. A lot. It was intense. I still get off just thinking about it. Don't lie, you have, too. It was pitched to Disney. Blood and guts they can handle — but two queer superhero's? Hold onto your pearls, ladies.)