Domino and Deadpool Jello Wrestle for Cable's Love - Domino/Cable/Deadpool - R
Title: Domino and Deadpool Jello Wrestle for Cable's Love
Rating: R
Fandom; Pairing: Marvel; Domino, Deadpool, Cable, jello
Word Count: 2407
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer in my profile. I don't own the story or characters. They belong to Marvel Comics.
Warnings: JELLO. DEADPOOL. BOOBS.
It is amazingly difficult to find Cable these days, so he’s pretty desperate for some techno-organic nookie to go searching this far.
“Hey there, Big Daddy!” he announces himself as he bursts into the room. He’s certain there’s a warm and violent welcome awaiting him.
Instead it’s Cable all in flagrante delicto with that chick with the permanent black eye-just wait, it’ll come to him. Yeah, he tilts his head. That flagrante is very, very delicto. I mean he can even see her-
“Whoa!” he barely misses getting shot. Okay, there might be a little blood.
“What is he doing here?” the beautiful, freaky looking, freaky naked lady demands. No, really, any minute he’s going to remember her name and their passionate time in the Seychelles together. He’s sure he broke her heart gently for her to end up with such a swell guy like Cable… But seriously, she better step off his man.
“I just came to say howdy!” he protests.
“Domino,” Cable says. Oh, yeah, that’s her name. And he was wrong about the Seychelles. Ouch.
“Wade,” he says in the exact same tone of voice.
Threesome? It could happen. He went to Kindergarten (maybe) and he learned how to share (maybe) and there is plenty of Deadpool to go around (definitely).
“Oh no,” that Domino chick says. He vaguely remembers her shooting him, but he vaguely remembers everyone shooting him at some point or another. It’s all sort of fuzzy and gruesome, like kittens at Chernobyl.
“No, no, no! Cable!”
She is climbing out of bed with the sheets, leaving Cable brazenly naked and looking way, way too smug for someone who is regularly so smug that he goes around advertising himself as a messiah. And okay, maybe DP believes that (or maybe he doesn’t!) but it’s still really fucking smarmy.
“Yeah, Cable, buddy, how could you?” he chimes in.
“Don’t start!” Domino snaps at him.
“I’m on your side,” he complains, hands on hips. “Gosh.”
“No, you’re not,” she says, pulling the bedsheets tighter around her.
“And how do you know that?” he asks. “Maybe I bust in because I was afraid my friend Cable was making a terrible mistake in taking advantage of such a stunning and honorable-“
“Shut up,” she tells him.
Cable is laughing at them. He gets out of bed and man oh man it has been a long time, hasn’t it? And he’s had a lot of fun with a lot of ladies, some of his best frenemies, and some of his favorite minions. And just wait until Cable gets a load of his TV. It will be a true man moment in which they bond over dimensions and LCD versus Plasma really ridiculous pixel amounts that he doesn’t remember at all, but it’s very manly. Wait, he’s still got the TV, right? He didn’t blow it up or something? Well, maybe he did. That would be dumb. But probably cool.
“Look, Wade,” Cable’s putting an arm around his shoulder and one around Domino’s.
“I know why you’re here,” he says.
“Pssh, no you don’t,” Deadpool says. He knows how it works. The lava lamp of his brain moves changes too fast and all that jazz.
“Actually,” Cable tells him. “Your pants are pretty tight.”
“Oh,” he says, dropping his hands to cover his crotch.
Next time he makes a dramatic and awkward entrance on his booty call, he’ll remember to get lil’ DP under control first.
“Gross,” Domino says, storming off.
“Just remember,” she says, posed in the busted up doorway like a particularly monochrome femme fatale. “I don’t like to share.”
“Classy broad,” Deadpool says. “No Bea Arthur, though.”
Cable sighs.
“I think you should go, Wade.”
But he just got here and it was so much effort and he wanted to get laid.
“But I just got here!”
Well, he ends up taking a particularly intimate bathroom break with his left hand, but it’s pretty fucking disappointing. He is going to have words with this Domino. Words and possible fists and swords and bullets. Lots of them.
When he finds her, she looks prepared for him (that’s disappointing).
“I thought you were out of the picture,” she tells him.
“I’m in and out,” he tells her (Hey! That’s kind of lewd!). “A tumbleweed in the wind.” (Oh, yeah, chicks dig that).
“Yeah,” she says. “Right.”
She is so feeling him.
“I’m not leaving,” she tells him. “I’ve known Cable for much longer than you have, Deadpool, and I know he can do…”
She looks him up and down.
“A lot better than you.”
Ooooo. Burn.
“Yeah, okay, I think that too, but you know what?” he asked.
“What?”
This is gonna kill.
“If he didn’t want me around, I wouldn’t be here.”
She sneers.
“It’s going to come to that, isn’t it?” she asks.
He smirks.
“I will fight for him.”
“I won’t,” he counters.
What? (Seriously, what?)
“What?” she asks, gaping.
“…Except on my terms,” he adds hastily.
“Alright,” she says. “What are you terms?”
“We should wrestle for it!” he says.
Yeah, that sounds sexy. Mud wrestling maybe or-Oh! Oh! Jello wrestling. Wrestling in jello. With bikinis. And an inflatable kiddie pool full of jello.
(But what flavor?)
“In lime jello,” he tells her.
“What?” she asks. “Ugh, fine. I will win and you will leave.”
She pushes past him.
“Cable has enough going on and you’re a bad influence, Deadpool, you think everyone is like you.”
Hey!
“No I don’t!”
“You know, Wade, I really appreciate your dedication to this idea of yours,” Cable tells him.
He is sitting back just watching. Doesn’t he get that these casserole dishes and pots and pans and spare glass cups of lime jello are heavy? So yeah, leave the poor, overworked (and underfucked) mercenary to lug all the delicious green gelatin while Mr. Metal Biceps sits back and drinks an appletini.
Jerk.
“Are you saying I’m not dedicated, Nate?” he asks. “Saying I can’t do a job if I set my mind to it? I’ll have you know I have never failed a client!”
“Except those times I was involved,” Nate points out.
Damn him. Pointing out the hypocrisy in what is clearly meant to be a grand gesture of hyperbole. Some people have no poetry in their souls.
“This is ridiculous,” Domino says. “I can’t believe I’m going through with this.”
She’s already standing around in her underwear, black and skimpy, because every female fighter type wears a thong. Wait, what do you mean that’s ridiculous and probably painful? Oh, come on it’s not that bad. And it’s sexy. This is how we get readers, okay?
So it doesn’t really matter that she looks like the last Dalmatian puppy, or no, which one had just the spot over the eye? Is Spot too obvious? (Yeah, probably too obvious.)
But she’s got an amazing body and really, who is he to judge? He’s no Ryan Reynolds. (Though laundry can be done on Deadpool’s abs. It’s been scientifically proven through rigorous testing.) Speaking of Ryan Reynolds, that guy is definitely on the To Do list.
Anyways, back to Domino. She’s got just the right amount of muscle for a woman like her, tough as nails, probably eats testicles for breakfast (ew). Clearly cannot be trusted with poor, sweet, well meaning Nathan Dayspring Askani'son Summers Cable Soldier X. (Nevermind that he could probably take care of himself. Proved that a couple of painful ways before)
But this is about honor! And a man’s right to booty calls!
Yes.
It’s on, bitch.
“It’s go time,” he tells Domino.
“Alright,” she says, stretching her arms. Okay, yeah, she’s toned and fit and hot and has these amazing tits and is about to be covered in lime jello and… him.
Wade, my man, you are the man. (Truly.)
They step into the kiddie pool, the blue of the inflatable edges accentuates Domino’s skin most fetchingly. But the lime jello makes her look like shit. Hilarious, because it totally goes with his Marvel Girl themed boxers and sort of downplays the, uhm, hideous eaten over by cancer thing. It’s all about accentuating the good things.
(The mask stays on though.) Lime jello up the nose: not fun.
Domino takes her stance. He thinks it’s called crouching cougar, secret bromance-wrecker.
Deadpool lunges forward, slips, and falls face first. (Mask? Definitely the right choice.)
She laughs at him. So he grabs her by the ankle and pulls her into the jello after him. There is a very unheroic shriek, but she’s still laughing.
They wrestle. Oh do they wrestle. Domino breaks his nose a few times, hits him in the teeth, the ribs. It hurts, but it’s no big deal. Meanwhile he is sliding jello covered hands all over her black bra.
“You sick freak!” she shouts, socking him in the ear so that it feels like his brain is the gong in a very sexy Buddhist temple.
Clearly Domino doesn’t appreciate the lost art lucha libre art of breast wrestling.
“Stop that,” she orders him. She tries to pin him, but jello is slippery and he is very flexible.
“You’re not even fighting back,” Domino complains.
“He’s not even fighting back!”
Yeah, Nate is not cutting off his fun this time. Surprising! Joy-making!
(Not fighting back, psshaw!) Distracted, he manages to tackle her into the jello.
After that it’s a lot of very dignified and refined grappling in lime jello while Domino cusses him out. Especially whenever the grappling goes anywhere near her tits or her ass, but seriously, how is he supposed to miss them? They’re kind of amazing.
“What’s your game plan here, Deadpool?” she whispered, panting. “What do you get out of this, other than a weirdly kinky grope fest?”
Does he have to get more than that? No, wait, there has to be a plan. There’s always a plan, just sometimes he forgets what it is, but it still usually works out. (Usually. Barring any horrible twists of fate, but this doesn’t seem like a horrible twist of fate. Unless there’s been some brutal misunderstanding and he’s always experienced something that sucked and twists of fate always involve hot girls on top of him trying to put him into slippery strangle holds.)
That would be surprisingly awesome.
(Yes it would.)
But before he can start re-experiencing any major unfortunate experiences of his life as angry hot chicks with their thumbs digging into his windpipe, he realizes Domino is actually waiting for him to answer.
(Or just waiting.)
“Fine,” she tells him. Uh-oh. He’s done that thing again where a woman had a very important conversation and made some kind of very final decision and he wasn’t paying attention. That is never a good thing.
Domino lets go of his throat and all the rather important tubes inside of it and grabs the bottom of his mask.
“Hey!” he protests. “Not the-“
Oh. Nevermind, this is nice.
And see, if she’d worn a mask, she wouldn’t taste like the plastic-y fake lime and high-fructose corn syrup of jello. Bet she got it up her nose. Haha!
Except she’s still kissing him, so he might want to kiss back. As long as they’re kissing he does sort of feel bad if she got lime jello up her nose. Really, she’s an outstanding woman who has kicked his ass a couple of times and she has a problem with Nate taking over small countries for his use, so maybe she’s actually got a… Wait, what’s the word? Line? (Moral compass.) Thanks, so maybe she’s actually got a moral compass. Someone ought to have one of those.
“That wasn’t totally repulsive,” Domino tells him.
Which might be Domino-talk for “You hot stud, take me right now in the jello.”
He combs a hand through her jello-matted hair and drags her in for another round of tongue wrestling. She bites. That’s hot. He’s been with some rough women on occasion, but Domino could have kicked all their asses. Probably made lesbians of them, too. Hot.
This time she doesn’t complain about him touching her breasts. Oh, they’re so soft!
“I suppose this means you’ve tied.”
Hey, wait, Nate’s still here. Good ol’ Cable. Totally fucking cockblocking right now, but he can be forgiven. Maybe. If this isn’t actually a cockblock and is about to turn into a very seriously (everything he does is Very Serious) offered invitation for a three-way.
He’d answer, but Domino is still kissing him.
“We could get out of the jello,” he tells her when she breaks to catch her breath.
“Unless you want to stay.” Staying is just fine with him.
“I want a shower,” she tells him.
“And then…” She’s dragging a finger through the jello sticking to his chest. Finger goes in mouth.
“That could be arranged.”
“A hand?” Nate offers, as they unstuck themselves. They are really green, so maybe a shower would be a good idea.
“No need,” Domino tells him. But jello is slippery enough and Deadpool’s going to be lazy if he can. He grins and sticks out a hand expectantly. He gets yanked up in a way that might have just popped some joints in his arms either out of or in to place. And then…
Alright, whatever he did this morning that meant there’d be a lot of unexpected make outs? He’s got to figure out what that was and do it again, because he’s usually got to work for a kiss like this from Nate. (Great guy. Maybe some hang-ups. Sexually speaking.) Oh, but it’s good. Not as forceful as Domino, but he probably doesn’t feel he has to be, since he’s sort of huge. TO-hand around the back of his head, real one is getting all covered in jello at the small of his back. Nice. He’d give it a 10 out of 10.
“Well now,” Domino observes. “If I knew you meant that, I might have taken your help.”
A beat. For comedic timing.
“Or not.”
Ah-ha! Domino’s secret agenda is revealed in all its degenerate treachery! She’s a slash fangirl. Which is, y’know, actually okay with him. Even kind of flattering.
“And now you’re covered in jello, too,” Deadpool tells him, after Nate lets him go.
“Guess you’ll just have to join us in the shower.”
Okay, Domino is officially a woman after his own heart.
“I suppose I shall.”
Triple score.
Rating: R
Fandom; Pairing: Marvel; Domino, Deadpool, Cable, jello
Word Count: 2407
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer in my profile. I don't own the story or characters. They belong to Marvel Comics.
Warnings: JELLO. DEADPOOL. BOOBS.
It is amazingly difficult to find Cable these days, so he’s pretty desperate for some techno-organic nookie to go searching this far.
“Hey there, Big Daddy!” he announces himself as he bursts into the room. He’s certain there’s a warm and violent welcome awaiting him.
Instead it’s Cable all in flagrante delicto with that chick with the permanent black eye-just wait, it’ll come to him. Yeah, he tilts his head. That flagrante is very, very delicto. I mean he can even see her-
“Whoa!” he barely misses getting shot. Okay, there might be a little blood.
“What is he doing here?” the beautiful, freaky looking, freaky naked lady demands. No, really, any minute he’s going to remember her name and their passionate time in the Seychelles together. He’s sure he broke her heart gently for her to end up with such a swell guy like Cable… But seriously, she better step off his man.
“I just came to say howdy!” he protests.
“Domino,” Cable says. Oh, yeah, that’s her name. And he was wrong about the Seychelles. Ouch.
“Wade,” he says in the exact same tone of voice.
Threesome? It could happen. He went to Kindergarten (maybe) and he learned how to share (maybe) and there is plenty of Deadpool to go around (definitely).
“Oh no,” that Domino chick says. He vaguely remembers her shooting him, but he vaguely remembers everyone shooting him at some point or another. It’s all sort of fuzzy and gruesome, like kittens at Chernobyl.
“No, no, no! Cable!”
She is climbing out of bed with the sheets, leaving Cable brazenly naked and looking way, way too smug for someone who is regularly so smug that he goes around advertising himself as a messiah. And okay, maybe DP believes that (or maybe he doesn’t!) but it’s still really fucking smarmy.
“Yeah, Cable, buddy, how could you?” he chimes in.
“Don’t start!” Domino snaps at him.
“I’m on your side,” he complains, hands on hips. “Gosh.”
“No, you’re not,” she says, pulling the bedsheets tighter around her.
“And how do you know that?” he asks. “Maybe I bust in because I was afraid my friend Cable was making a terrible mistake in taking advantage of such a stunning and honorable-“
“Shut up,” she tells him.
Cable is laughing at them. He gets out of bed and man oh man it has been a long time, hasn’t it? And he’s had a lot of fun with a lot of ladies, some of his best frenemies, and some of his favorite minions. And just wait until Cable gets a load of his TV. It will be a true man moment in which they bond over dimensions and LCD versus Plasma really ridiculous pixel amounts that he doesn’t remember at all, but it’s very manly. Wait, he’s still got the TV, right? He didn’t blow it up or something? Well, maybe he did. That would be dumb. But probably cool.
“Look, Wade,” Cable’s putting an arm around his shoulder and one around Domino’s.
“I know why you’re here,” he says.
“Pssh, no you don’t,” Deadpool says. He knows how it works. The lava lamp of his brain moves changes too fast and all that jazz.
“Actually,” Cable tells him. “Your pants are pretty tight.”
“Oh,” he says, dropping his hands to cover his crotch.
Next time he makes a dramatic and awkward entrance on his booty call, he’ll remember to get lil’ DP under control first.
“Gross,” Domino says, storming off.
“Just remember,” she says, posed in the busted up doorway like a particularly monochrome femme fatale. “I don’t like to share.”
“Classy broad,” Deadpool says. “No Bea Arthur, though.”
Cable sighs.
“I think you should go, Wade.”
But he just got here and it was so much effort and he wanted to get laid.
“But I just got here!”
Well, he ends up taking a particularly intimate bathroom break with his left hand, but it’s pretty fucking disappointing. He is going to have words with this Domino. Words and possible fists and swords and bullets. Lots of them.
When he finds her, she looks prepared for him (that’s disappointing).
“I thought you were out of the picture,” she tells him.
“I’m in and out,” he tells her (Hey! That’s kind of lewd!). “A tumbleweed in the wind.” (Oh, yeah, chicks dig that).
“Yeah,” she says. “Right.”
She is so feeling him.
“I’m not leaving,” she tells him. “I’ve known Cable for much longer than you have, Deadpool, and I know he can do…”
She looks him up and down.
“A lot better than you.”
Ooooo. Burn.
“Yeah, okay, I think that too, but you know what?” he asked.
“What?”
This is gonna kill.
“If he didn’t want me around, I wouldn’t be here.”
She sneers.
“It’s going to come to that, isn’t it?” she asks.
He smirks.
“I will fight for him.”
“I won’t,” he counters.
What? (Seriously, what?)
“What?” she asks, gaping.
“…Except on my terms,” he adds hastily.
“Alright,” she says. “What are you terms?”
“We should wrestle for it!” he says.
Yeah, that sounds sexy. Mud wrestling maybe or-Oh! Oh! Jello wrestling. Wrestling in jello. With bikinis. And an inflatable kiddie pool full of jello.
(But what flavor?)
“In lime jello,” he tells her.
“What?” she asks. “Ugh, fine. I will win and you will leave.”
She pushes past him.
“Cable has enough going on and you’re a bad influence, Deadpool, you think everyone is like you.”
Hey!
“No I don’t!”
“You know, Wade, I really appreciate your dedication to this idea of yours,” Cable tells him.
He is sitting back just watching. Doesn’t he get that these casserole dishes and pots and pans and spare glass cups of lime jello are heavy? So yeah, leave the poor, overworked (and underfucked) mercenary to lug all the delicious green gelatin while Mr. Metal Biceps sits back and drinks an appletini.
Jerk.
“Are you saying I’m not dedicated, Nate?” he asks. “Saying I can’t do a job if I set my mind to it? I’ll have you know I have never failed a client!”
“Except those times I was involved,” Nate points out.
Damn him. Pointing out the hypocrisy in what is clearly meant to be a grand gesture of hyperbole. Some people have no poetry in their souls.
“This is ridiculous,” Domino says. “I can’t believe I’m going through with this.”
She’s already standing around in her underwear, black and skimpy, because every female fighter type wears a thong. Wait, what do you mean that’s ridiculous and probably painful? Oh, come on it’s not that bad. And it’s sexy. This is how we get readers, okay?
So it doesn’t really matter that she looks like the last Dalmatian puppy, or no, which one had just the spot over the eye? Is Spot too obvious? (Yeah, probably too obvious.)
But she’s got an amazing body and really, who is he to judge? He’s no Ryan Reynolds. (Though laundry can be done on Deadpool’s abs. It’s been scientifically proven through rigorous testing.) Speaking of Ryan Reynolds, that guy is definitely on the To Do list.
Anyways, back to Domino. She’s got just the right amount of muscle for a woman like her, tough as nails, probably eats testicles for breakfast (ew). Clearly cannot be trusted with poor, sweet, well meaning Nathan Dayspring Askani'son Summers Cable Soldier X. (Nevermind that he could probably take care of himself. Proved that a couple of painful ways before)
But this is about honor! And a man’s right to booty calls!
Yes.
It’s on, bitch.
“It’s go time,” he tells Domino.
“Alright,” she says, stretching her arms. Okay, yeah, she’s toned and fit and hot and has these amazing tits and is about to be covered in lime jello and… him.
Wade, my man, you are the man. (Truly.)
They step into the kiddie pool, the blue of the inflatable edges accentuates Domino’s skin most fetchingly. But the lime jello makes her look like shit. Hilarious, because it totally goes with his Marvel Girl themed boxers and sort of downplays the, uhm, hideous eaten over by cancer thing. It’s all about accentuating the good things.
(The mask stays on though.) Lime jello up the nose: not fun.
Domino takes her stance. He thinks it’s called crouching cougar, secret bromance-wrecker.
Deadpool lunges forward, slips, and falls face first. (Mask? Definitely the right choice.)
She laughs at him. So he grabs her by the ankle and pulls her into the jello after him. There is a very unheroic shriek, but she’s still laughing.
They wrestle. Oh do they wrestle. Domino breaks his nose a few times, hits him in the teeth, the ribs. It hurts, but it’s no big deal. Meanwhile he is sliding jello covered hands all over her black bra.
“You sick freak!” she shouts, socking him in the ear so that it feels like his brain is the gong in a very sexy Buddhist temple.
Clearly Domino doesn’t appreciate the lost art lucha libre art of breast wrestling.
“Stop that,” she orders him. She tries to pin him, but jello is slippery and he is very flexible.
“You’re not even fighting back,” Domino complains.
“He’s not even fighting back!”
Yeah, Nate is not cutting off his fun this time. Surprising! Joy-making!
(Not fighting back, psshaw!) Distracted, he manages to tackle her into the jello.
After that it’s a lot of very dignified and refined grappling in lime jello while Domino cusses him out. Especially whenever the grappling goes anywhere near her tits or her ass, but seriously, how is he supposed to miss them? They’re kind of amazing.
“What’s your game plan here, Deadpool?” she whispered, panting. “What do you get out of this, other than a weirdly kinky grope fest?”
Does he have to get more than that? No, wait, there has to be a plan. There’s always a plan, just sometimes he forgets what it is, but it still usually works out. (Usually. Barring any horrible twists of fate, but this doesn’t seem like a horrible twist of fate. Unless there’s been some brutal misunderstanding and he’s always experienced something that sucked and twists of fate always involve hot girls on top of him trying to put him into slippery strangle holds.)
That would be surprisingly awesome.
(Yes it would.)
But before he can start re-experiencing any major unfortunate experiences of his life as angry hot chicks with their thumbs digging into his windpipe, he realizes Domino is actually waiting for him to answer.
(Or just waiting.)
“Fine,” she tells him. Uh-oh. He’s done that thing again where a woman had a very important conversation and made some kind of very final decision and he wasn’t paying attention. That is never a good thing.
Domino lets go of his throat and all the rather important tubes inside of it and grabs the bottom of his mask.
“Hey!” he protests. “Not the-“
Oh. Nevermind, this is nice.
And see, if she’d worn a mask, she wouldn’t taste like the plastic-y fake lime and high-fructose corn syrup of jello. Bet she got it up her nose. Haha!
Except she’s still kissing him, so he might want to kiss back. As long as they’re kissing he does sort of feel bad if she got lime jello up her nose. Really, she’s an outstanding woman who has kicked his ass a couple of times and she has a problem with Nate taking over small countries for his use, so maybe she’s actually got a… Wait, what’s the word? Line? (Moral compass.) Thanks, so maybe she’s actually got a moral compass. Someone ought to have one of those.
“That wasn’t totally repulsive,” Domino tells him.
Which might be Domino-talk for “You hot stud, take me right now in the jello.”
He combs a hand through her jello-matted hair and drags her in for another round of tongue wrestling. She bites. That’s hot. He’s been with some rough women on occasion, but Domino could have kicked all their asses. Probably made lesbians of them, too. Hot.
This time she doesn’t complain about him touching her breasts. Oh, they’re so soft!
“I suppose this means you’ve tied.”
Hey, wait, Nate’s still here. Good ol’ Cable. Totally fucking cockblocking right now, but he can be forgiven. Maybe. If this isn’t actually a cockblock and is about to turn into a very seriously (everything he does is Very Serious) offered invitation for a three-way.
He’d answer, but Domino is still kissing him.
“We could get out of the jello,” he tells her when she breaks to catch her breath.
“Unless you want to stay.” Staying is just fine with him.
“I want a shower,” she tells him.
“And then…” She’s dragging a finger through the jello sticking to his chest. Finger goes in mouth.
“That could be arranged.”
“A hand?” Nate offers, as they unstuck themselves. They are really green, so maybe a shower would be a good idea.
“No need,” Domino tells him. But jello is slippery enough and Deadpool’s going to be lazy if he can. He grins and sticks out a hand expectantly. He gets yanked up in a way that might have just popped some joints in his arms either out of or in to place. And then…
Alright, whatever he did this morning that meant there’d be a lot of unexpected make outs? He’s got to figure out what that was and do it again, because he’s usually got to work for a kiss like this from Nate. (Great guy. Maybe some hang-ups. Sexually speaking.) Oh, but it’s good. Not as forceful as Domino, but he probably doesn’t feel he has to be, since he’s sort of huge. TO-hand around the back of his head, real one is getting all covered in jello at the small of his back. Nice. He’d give it a 10 out of 10.
“Well now,” Domino observes. “If I knew you meant that, I might have taken your help.”
A beat. For comedic timing.
“Or not.”
Ah-ha! Domino’s secret agenda is revealed in all its degenerate treachery! She’s a slash fangirl. Which is, y’know, actually okay with him. Even kind of flattering.
“And now you’re covered in jello, too,” Deadpool tells him, after Nate lets him go.
“Guess you’ll just have to join us in the shower.”
Okay, Domino is officially a woman after his own heart.
“I suppose I shall.”
Triple score.