699. Babysitter – ft. Deadpool and deaged!Peter Parker

(Or maybe it's, 'ft. Deadpool and the Author, + deaged!Spidey!)

Go away Wade!

(You're bisexual, you should know that 69 is a sex position.)

Wade. Shut up. And it's 699.

(Threesome.)

Go away. It's storytime.

(Ooh, yay! Positions! Lights, camera-)

Action!

"Chimichangas. Chi-mi-chan-gas."

Burble.

"Charlie, that looks so weird without context, give me context!" Fine, give me a second. "Hurry up-"

The burble had come from Peter Parker, aka Spiderman. Due to unforeseen circumstances, he was deaged, barely three years old-

"Oh come on I have seen one year old's who could play basketball! He can't even walk!" Deadpool exclaimed, jumping up. Alright then. He was de-aged, barely a year old, with one dangerously sharp front tooth and a tiny laugh that made wittle Deadpool want to cry with happiness. "I do not!" Deadpool exclaimed, sniffling as Peter giggled. "Stop it, Charlie, you're making me cry! Deadpool does not cry! I go around asking AI's to call me awesome as fuck names, and chopping people's heads off, and-"

And this is supposed to be vaguely domestic. But you're swearing and talking about using your katanas as guillotines-

"Is there supposed to be a red line under that?"

I don't know, and I can't be arsed to check. Now let me get on with the story.

"Fine!"

Fine!

Peter had been flying around as Spiderman when the burst of blue light hit him. No-one had any idea what it had done to him, so they left him under observation, knowing that if anything happened, his Aunt May would notice – she noticed everything, even that he was Spiderman despite his best efforts. Unfortunately, she was called away to work an emergency shift at the ER, leaving Peter asleep in his room.

When he woke up, boom, baby Peter Parker. He started crying, and this guy- "Hey peeps" –aka Deadpool, aka Wade Wilson or the 'Merc-with-a-Mouth'. "Have you even watched the new Deadpool movie? It's fucking awesome, so don't bring up how my mouth was sewn shut in Wolverine-" Moving on.

"Wa'e," Peter grinned through a mouthful of hand. Deadpool gasped.

"He said my name! It's beautiful! It's- hey, wait! He doesn't know my name! Continuity error!"

He's met you, Deadpool, in the mask. You told him you were called Wade.

"Yeah, but- ooh, AO-three update, what is that, the Hundred? God, that shows sucks dick now."

Good thing that the update was from a fanfic about how Clarke went back in time, etcetera, etcetera. Now get back to Peter.

Deadpool waved the author off, before looking back to Peter. "What else can you say, little guy? Deadpool? Hello Kitty? Unicorns? Masturbation?"

"Stark!"

Deadpool deflated, throwing his hands up in the air. "Of course he wants Stark! You think he can fix you, right? Well, here's some news for you, Parker, I am not going to Avengers Tower, not with all this Civil War shit up in the air, and yes, I know that you're part of Civil War, Spidey, but this is my fanfic one-shot, meaning continuity is screwed to fuck. Are you hungry? I'm hungry. I want Chimichangas. Ooh, autocorrect to a capital 'C'. Nice going, Charles."

I'm a girl.

"Nice going, Charlotte."

Still not my name.

"I know. Now, Chimichangas for Peter and I and there goes the crappy spell-check to a capital 'C'! Wooh, food! Yeah, go food!"