The Fickle Finger of Fate - Alonelylover

Chapter 1 Chapter Text

The last thing Peter Parker expected from his night was to run into Deadpool with his dick out.

Make that scratchy record noise and freeze the frame.

"Bet you're all wondering how I got here.."

If Morgan Freeman survived The Snap and was still alive, could he possibly narrate Peter's joke of a life?

It all started when he got bitten by a radio active spider...

Okay, too far back.

This whole scenario wouldn't have happened if Peter wasn't being so greedy for a little extra cash or really anything that took up a second of his free time. Running pies was an easy hire that fit well in between working at Dr. Octavius' lab and being Spider-Man.

He started his first very shift at Pizza Amigo's the same day he was interviewed.

Peter was good at his job. He delivered twice as fast as the other drivers, never a topping or slice out of place. He even made his own invention of a gyro-ing, ball bearing swingajig that held the pizzas at a perfectly flat angle no matter which way or how fast he web slinged through the city.

(He had learned the hard way after his first delivery when the entire pizza ended up looking like a massacred accordion that had hoed down too hard)

His quick delivery skills were especially appreciated by one of Pizza Amigo's regular customers, a guy who went by the unforgettable moniker of Weasel. (But who was Peter to judge with a hero name like Spider-Man) After meeting the man for the first time, Peter knew instantly that he really was the human embodiment of an actual ground dwelling rodent.

It seemed like every other Thursday night, Weasel would call in and order two large pizzas. Extra cheese, extra pepperoni, greasy as possible, because he's sick and tired of this desolate world and wants to die via stuffed crust and mozzarella clogged arteries. And why don't you add two orders of garlic sticks. Extra ranch dip, please.

After the first month of Peter working at Pizza Amigo's, Weasel was quickly asking for his personal delivery services whenever possible. Peter didn't mind because the guy was generous in doling out fat tips. Always reaching into a stained sweatshirt pocket and pulling out a wad of bills rolled up in an elastic hair tie. Whatever the guy did, it paid well. Peter vaguely wondered if he worked at or owned the questionable bar below his apartment.

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children, seriously the name alone was super suspicious. Peter didn't doubt that it was some cover operation. Maybe a money laundering front or an Alpha fight club. Certainly stank like the later one.

One night after the usual passing of money for pizza, Weasel didn't turn away to go back inside. He just sort of stopped and stared at Peter with his pizza in hand, mouth hanging open and eyes hooded and blood shot like he was cross faded and totally toasted. Peter shifted awkwardly under his zombie-like gaze. Borderline uncomfortable and his social anxieties rising.

He knew his social skills were lacking, especially in recent years when he had spent so much time alone. Peter kind of just forgot how to interact properly with people anytime he was outside of his spider-suit. Spider-man? Charming, funny, everyone's best friend. Peter Parker? Awkward as hell with brain to mouth delay.

At least he always tried his best to polite like Aunt May had taught him.

"Uh, hey, wait a minute." Weasel finally broke the silence just as Peter gave up and started to turn away with a, "have a good night" on his tongue.

"I wanna ask you something." The rodent man continued.

"Me?" Peter blinked back at him.

"Yeah, dude. I need something delivered. To a friend. And you're the fastest delivery boy in the West, right? I'll even pay you a pretty penny for the favor."

"Um, I don't know. I'm kind of on the clock right now..."

"A whole hundo."

Peters jaw dropped and he broke out into an instant sweat.

"S-sorry?"

"I'll give you a hundred bucks. Worth your while? It would really help me out, kid. "

Peter took the job just like that. The money was too pass up, besides it was just a little gold envelope.

But back to Deadpool with his dick out.

Peter was sliding around the corner at an all out run, into some side allyway between a two story pawn and business shop with bars on the windows and what was probably a community of low income apartments. He just needed a moment of space and the right opportunity to slip of sight from the raging dick nose, knot head that was chasing him. Then he could just web sling his way to the roof, no conflict necessary.

So delivering a little envelope wasn't a big deal but the recipient was this greedy co*ck nosed, smelly bastard that not only didn't thank him for the job but thought he could make some nasty comment about Peter's gender status and tried to lay hands on him ."

Peter tried to let the guy down easy. He definitely made it clear he wasn't interested and ignored the fact he really wanted to punch this guy's lights out through the back of his head and into the next week when he didn't take no for answer. Instead, when the Alpha reached out with a thick grubby hand to grab him, Peter turned and ran. He already completed his job and didn't see the need to stick around and deal with this guy. Pretty stupid because an Alpha's basic instinct is to give chance.

But Hell! This guy wouldn't give up! Who would have thought those pig legs had so much endurance. He already chased him four blocks and didn't show any signs of letting off. Peter kept thinking, "c'mon dude, tire out...ugh, just one more block and then I'll thwip out."

And then there in front of him, in the current situating alley way he had just turned into, barley even a meter in, Deadpool.

The practically immortal, Merc with a Mouth. Prime grade apex Alpha decked out in black and red leather/kevlar combo. Strapped with katanas, guns and dick out for a piss.

One time Peter pulled out his ancient cellphone and Googled the Merc's name while standing in line at a Starbucks (cause even after half the world's population turns to dust, coffee is still a necessity) after over hearing a couple standing behind him discussing who of the heroes were left. They were debating if Deadpool was an actually hero or not. But what really got him was when one of them whispered, "I heard he even came back from getting Snapped."

The very first link after the fan made Wiki page, which he browsed over quickly and found almost nothing besides the man was a well known mercenary for hire, was a site with a URL from one of those free build your own web pages. The thing looked like it was made by a ten year old in 2005

Little rainbow hearts and sparkles floated up form the bottom of his screen when it loaded and the only thing on the page was a crude MS Paint drawing of a little Deadpool stabbing a bloody guy with X's for eyes and then a freaking @yahoo email. Clearly a joke, right? Who even uses Yahoo?

Peter sent a prayer out that he'd never run into the guy who flipping regenerated from being turnt to dust. An absolutely terrifying thought.

But look! Thank his Parker Luck that there he was! As plain as day, regular ol' puny Parker. Distance encroaching rapidly on the Merc and he couldn't even slow himself down enough to stop himself from slamming into the guy's rock hard front, just as he was casually tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up with a cheery whistle. Barely just turning his attention to Peter's presence before they collided.

Everything happened so fast that Peter saw it all in horrified slow motion.

He had stuck his hands up out of self preservation to brace himself for impact but with all the momentum he had going, only crashed into the larger man. Trapping his hands between the unsuspecting mercenary and his own body. Fingers sprayed out across each wide pec and face smashed into the middle of them in some sort of comical motorboat fashion. Stinging reflex tears welled in his eyes from his nose taking most of the brute force.

The feeling was extremely similar to hitting the side of brick building.

Peter would know because he's got a lot a experience in hitting brick buildings.

The Alpha's body, built like a stacked house didn't even sway. Instead, a pair of arms flexing with muscles came up and wrapped themselves around him. Catching him securely with nothing but a slightly surprised grunt.

Peter blinked up at the unyielding man through his wet lashes, his lips parted, breathe lost from running and surprise, ready to stutter out his apologizes, and a 'oh jeeze! Please don't try to kill me.'

The animated white eyes of Deadpool's mask stared widening back down at him. Peter's own eyes widen as his inappropriately timed and overly curious mind wondered about the Merc's costume specs, cause he would love to have a conversation about how they do that and if it's anything like his own Spidey mask.

"How...-" he nearly began to ask breathlessly,

"Oh, Merry f*cking Christmas!"

Thoughts paused, Peter squinted up at the Alpha.

Christmas! It wasn't even Halloween yet and beyond that, somewhere in his Omega hind brain, Peter is reminded between one breathe and the next that it's been a very long time since he's been hugged this tightly. He really doesn't want too admit it because he should be super uncomfy but it's making him start to feel all warm and fuzzy. Like maybe it really is Christmas and he's a present being all wrapped up under the tree.

"Crap, I-I'm really, really sorry" Peter started again, trying to sound more polite like Aunt May taught him and less like he was starting to panic as the warm feeling started to spread throughout his body. "but could you, could you let go of me-?"

Deadpool's hold on him only tightened briefly as Peter spoke. His stomach flopped when his spider sense went off for the first time. It definitely wasn't Christmas and this Alpha was Dangerous with a capital 'D' and he's got him in a hold while he's equipped like a one man army.

However, the thing about Peter's spider sense is that it's not totally accurate all the time.Sometimes, it's like being at the end of a game of telephone. Just a whisper of something obscure, leaving his enhanced instincts to fill in the space of the most likely outcome.

When he hears the heavy falling of foot steps stop at the mouth of the alley, along with a shout and the click of a gun co*cking, he becomes very aware it isn't Deadpool he should be worried about.

But before Peter could react and without his permission, his own feet were suddenly lifted from the ground. The toes of his almost worn through Nikes scrapped against the concrete as Deadpool spun them around in a half circle, leaving Peter's back to the inside of the alley and his body pressed firmly into the larger alpha holding him. Deadpool had smoothly shifted his grip on Peter with one arm coming to hold him around his waist and the other hand coming up to cradle the back of his head. His face ended up being pushed back into the alpha's chest.

At this point, even despite the endangering circ*mstances, Peter, with his sore nose buried into leather covered muscles, couldn't help but focus on the way Deadpool smelled. The ripe sourness of over piled trash and hot piss odors of the alley dissipated as the mercenary's scent filled his lungs.

The world faded out, time stopped and Peter swallowed a rising lump in his throat as his chest grew tight and a pool of heat grew in his belly. Peter's Omega brain was going into over drive and with no warning, took over without his permission.

His last distracted thought was Deadpool was touching him with pee-pee hands.

The Merc scented first and for most like hot, sweated leather and maybe something like left over Mexican food. And then under that, the unique signature musk that belonged to all Alpha's. Deadpool smelled heady and commanding. Deeply promising, a rich spicy heat of a musk. Thrilling like a wild fire sweeping through a forest of deadwoods, burning hot and suffocating.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply taking another shaky breath, filling his lungs with his scent. His lips parted and he swore he could taste it as he rubbed each of his cheeks into the leather that stretched across the mercenary's chest. Effectively downright nuzzling into him.

Lost in his haze Peter didn't take notice of the way Deadpool stiffened against him or the extraness of his expanding chest under his own cheek and a nose buried in his hair. He probably would have kept cuddling up against the Alpha, completely ignoring the danger if it wasn't for his spider sense kicking his ass and reminding him, 'hey numb nuts! get your sh*t together! Here comes a bullet!'

Peter's mind was too thick and fuzzy to react quick enough though. The smells and the warmth and the pair of arms holding him felt way too awesome for him to care.

Those few impossibly long seconds ended with the echoing bang of a bullet leaving a barrel and jump started Peter's soupy brain back to reality.

Almost in the same moment Deadpool grunted and jerked forward, his massive body curling over Peter's and his feet fell back flat on the ground again.

Deadpool, with zero hesitation, unholstered the gun strapped to his thigh in a whip and without even looking, shot backwards over his shoulder. The reverberate bang of that bullet actually made Peter let out a little unbidden whine, and he ducked his head further into the man holding him.

It couldn't get more ridiculous how protected he felt there he felt when the arm around his middle gave him a tighter, reassuring squeeze.

"Boom, head shot!"

The recognizable sound of a body hitting the pavement brought Peter completely back to his fully functioning sane-self. Deadpool's scent lingered in him like a haunting but the smell of blood made him realize what had just happened.

This Alpha protected him. Took a bullet for him. Which was completely unnecessary because Peter dodged bullets for breakfast. Deadpool didn't need to get shot. Why did he just do that? Why did Peter let that happen, he should have moved faster, he shouldn't have been distracted like that. He's capable. Nobody needed to get shot, nobody needed to get hurt, nobody needed to die. Enough people were already gone from this world.

Peter felt himself flush all over in frustration.

What the heck was that?! Why did he react like that? That's never happened before!

"Why?!" Peter quickly jerked up right, glaring, not entirely sure what he was more mad about. He shoved Deadpool backwards, using more strength than he meant too and the Alpha actually stumbled back a step and half, caught off guard.

There was nerve racking silent between them. Deadpool looked down Peter, his head tilted to the side like a curious puppy who just heard a something new and Peter, glaring up at him, trying to catch his breath from whatever was making his heart beat so fast.

"Why what?"

"Why? Why, why why- You! you... -got shot!" Peter sputtered.

The whites of Deadpool's mask blinked lazily.

"No B.D.," the alpha shrugged flippantly and rolled his shoulders. He flexed and the sound of the bullet hitting the ground made Peter's mind made race. Deadpool had a healing factor. How crazy was it that he could heal almost instanly from being shoot, that is really wasn't a big deal. But it still had to hurt right?Peters eyes followed the bullet as it rolled a short way before stopping but his gaze continued to drift towards the body laying at the mouth of the ally.

"He's dead?"

The Merc titled his head the other way and then checked over his shoulder at the man he had just shot. Scratching at his temple with the barrel of his still smoking gun he looked back to Peter, the white eyes of his mask scrunched quizzically.

"Yeah? Greedo shot first."

"You didn't have to kill him!" Peter nearly shouted.

"He shot first!" Deadpool bellowed back louder, like repeating himself would make Peter understand any better

"Whaddya want me to do? He was chasing you, right? What do you think was gonna happen when a Scumtit* McGee Alpha catches a pretty Omega boy like you?! Huh?"

"I was handling it." Peter shot back, cutting in almost before Deadpool could even finish his words.

He set his spine straight and squared his shoulders like how he does when he's Spider-Man and stared straight back into Deadpool's mask with resolution.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"Sorry, but surveys suggest dead offenders aren't reoffenders."

A slew of complex and contradicting feelings bit at Peter's nerves, leaving him confused and frustrated about the whole situation. He couldn't figure out if wanted to run away from the Alpha or fight him. And then there was that gnawing part that told him to return back into that wide chest with the good smells and the warm feelings that made his hole hot and his dick twitch with interest.

Peter definitely ignored that last bit.

Suddenly, Deadpool whipped his right arm out and with intense precision, double tapped two more bullets into the body behind him. Peter jumped back in a jerk of a motion with his defenses raised, questioning where the hell his spider sense was on that one?

He scowled deeply at the Alpha and wondered if he could get tinnitus again from all these close counter gun shots.

He really hated guns. They're so obnoxiously loud.

"Haha oopsies! Silly me," Deadpool was disgustingly cheerful for just shooting a dead guy.

"I was just thinking about what he would'a done to you if you didn't catch me with my pants around my ankles."

Peter put even more distance between himself and the Merc. When Deadpool stepped forward, Peter stepped back again, flight starting to beat out fight.

The Alpha paused and tensed and then did something weird. He scolded himself by turning his head into his shoulder and using a harsh whispered tone said, "Bad Deadpool, you're scaring him!"

Peter didn't give himself time to think about it. He let his instincts take over when he saw an opening as Deadpool turned his gaze away. He launched himself to the nearby fire escape and hauled himself up swiftly.

It was probably over a six foot jump to grasp the railing, an amazing feat for anyone normal and of Peter's size and build.

Undoubtedly, it would cause questions with the Merc but Peter needed to get away and he definitely wasn't about to out himself as Spider-Man by using his web shooters.

He had never scaled anything faster his life. Hand over hand, heart thumping in his chest. He didn't look back even when he was a safe two stories out of distance.

He heard Deadpool let out a breathey awe'd sounding, "Parkour!"

"Heyyy, I'm sorry," The Alpha added, calling after him.

"I shouldn't have done it like that! I didn't really mean to, it was just sort of gut reaction!" Some how that's even worse.

Peter stood stalled on the roof, completely undecided. Like flight or fight instincts but instead of fighting Peters body seemed to want another type of word that started with 'f' and ended with 'ing.' He wanted to walk away but something was telling him he would regret it if he did.

He knew, deep down, what was happening. Why he rubbed himself all over the Alpha like he was going into straight into heat. But admitting to it felt insane.

"You know if it wasn't you, it'd just be someone else! He only shot at me because he wanted to get to you, baby boy!" Deadpool's voice carried from the alley below. Peter licked his lips and brought the collar of his hoodie to his nose. They were pushed so close together the alpha's scent clung to him.

Peter breathed deep like he was huffing a drug. He rubbed the soft cotton against his nose and just breathed through it. Just for a minute, he let himself have this.

Why was it so good?

Without trying to think too deeply about his actions, Peter turned on his heel and walked back over to the edge of the building, dropping the fabric from his face and peering cautiously over the edge.

Deadpool stared up at him, in the same exact spot but with his gun holstered and his hands up in a peaceful surrender. Somehow, Peter could tell a grin spread across his face under the mask the moment he saw Peter poke his head out. And looking directly behind him, Scumtit* McGee splayed out on the ground, laying in a halo of his own blood.

"Come back down here!"

"No thanks!" Peter called back without missing a beat, proud that he actually sounded pretty cheeky.

"Aw c'mooon!" Deadpool actually whined, Peter expected him to even stomp his foot like a child. "Let's be friends! Pretty f*cking cool how you climbed up there so fast, like whoa! Freakin' spider monkey skills! What's your name, monkey boy?!"

"What's your name?" Peter countered back because he is also a child. And really? Monkey boy? The Alpha got it half right but picked the wrong end of it.

"Wade Wilson! Call me Wade, okay?" The Alpha replied straightforwardly, no joking, no hesitation and not a single care for his identify under the mask. First and last, like he should already know, a silent 'duh' almost hanging on to the end of it.

"Well, Wade." Peter called down to him.

"I'd say its nice to meet you but I'm gonna call the cops now seeing as there's a dead guy behind you and it's really up to you if you wanna hang around and have a chat with them."

"WHAT?! I thought we had something special here! Is that how you thank you're new bestie and savior?!"

Peter looked at him pointedly as he pulled his cell out of his back pocket of his pants, slowly, making a show of. He's not 100% sure why he's letting Deadpool, knowing who he is and what he does. Sometimes he wonders if his own moral code was getting flimsy over the years but he knows for sure that Deadpool is in his city and if he stays and cause trouble, they'll meet again without a doubt.

"What about that name though?"

"Nope."

"You're number??"

Peter pretends to start dialing.

"Alright, alright!! I'm going." Deadpool threw his hands up and turned on his heel. "Too good to be true, anyways huh?" Peter's ears barely pick up him muttering to himself.

There's a strange empty ache in his chest as Peter watched him leave. It's even still there when he watches Deadpool kick the dead guy in the balls on the way out.

Even when the alpha round the corner, Peter lingered, thinking he could hear Deadpool voice starting to sing badly and off key, REO Speed Wagons, "Can't Fight This Feeling"

He waited until he couldn't anymore.

The tension never left his body, but his heart calmed down, the strange new feeling was still there yet he had to ignore it. He waited before dialing the police. He gave them an anonymous tip about a body. He didn't wait around himself to see if they actually show up, knowing how short handed the force has been since the Snap happened.

He just went straight home. It wasn't that late but he'd had enough fun for one night and maybe he was a little worried he would run into Deadpool again too quickly if he went out patrolling. Mostly he was worried about how he would react again. A little distance was needed first.

But if anything he really just wanted to curl up and sleep a solid eight or ten hours for once.Annoyingly, "Cant Fight This Feeling" was stuck in his head all the way home.

Chapter 2 Notes:

#unbeta'd
#babysfirstfic
#f*ckmeupfam

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After five years, it seemed like the world was finally starting to pull itself back together. People where starting to move on, reluctantly accepting that this wasn't going to change. The damage and destruction was still there, people were still gone and they weren't ever coming back. Peter's still alive. And alone, but that's okay. He's use to it now. Really.

It was actually, incredibly... easy.

He really hated to admit just how easy it had been. So easy it made his gut twist with over whelming and agonizing guilt.

In the beginning it was all so confusing. Catastrophically heart breaking. It didn't even feel like it was real, like it was all just a really bad dream that the whole world was going to wake up from and everybody would just be put back together where they belonged.

Peter had been there, in the chaos. When a spaceship came through the atmosphere. When an army marched through the streets. The whole thing was televised, live streamed, and transmitted on every radio station. He said he was bringing balance, but all he brought was upheaval and despair.

Looking back on it, Peter was a little miffed that there was an actual time wizard living in New York without him knowing. Mostly because it would have been really bad ass to be friends with a time wizard.

But even a time wizard couldn't stop Thanos and his army. What could Peter do? He wasn't even there for Aunt May. He felt he should have been there for her when she went. or Ned, his best friend, who was probably scared and worried about him. It was so easy to imagine the bus ride back from their field trip, the one Peter slipped away from to help in heart palpitating rush of panic. He didn't like to think about it though. Tried not to. He pushed all those thoughts away and locked them into a little box.

He use to have stress dreams about his Aunt and friends being harmed or kidnapped because someone found out who he was.

Now he just has nightmares of them, crumbling between his fingers like sand blowing away in the wind. Or walking along besides them, talking normally, he'd look away for a second and then when he'd look back they'd be gone. Their voices calling out to him, asking him why and begging him help them.

How could Peter have done anything when he was so helpless himself.

It happened just like that, with a single Snap of fingers, Peter lost everybody. He even lost himself. He didn't know what to do, he didn't even know who to reach out to. There wasn't anybody. He was scared, he didn't want to be alone.

For days all he did was lay in Aunt May's bed, wrapped up in her blankets, inhaling her warm, familiar scent and just sobbing until there was nothing left in him.

Until his eyes were too puffy and his lips chapped up and his nose was chaffed and stuffed and his head ached and pounded. Until he couldn't do anything but just simply lie there until it all built up again and he sobbed some more. He couldn't do anything. He was so useless.

During that time, he drifted off the deep end. Wallowed in mourning. How was he suppose to live now? No family, no friends, he was only sixteen. Who was going to take care of him? He didn't want this.

Was it just his cursed luck or did everybody else have it as bad as him? No Aunt May, no Ned, no Mj, Just him, Peter, all by himself. Just Him. Giving up ate at the back of his mind. He almost wished he could have gone with them.

And then he quickly took it back.

Because Peter still had a responsibility to keep, one that he'd be skirting.

It was the sound of wailing sirens that brought him back to it.

Being Spider-Man was everything.

After the Snap, mass hysteria hit, all hell broke lose for weeks. Riots started, massive looting, street crimes increased by 30% and considering half the population was missing, that stat was devastatingly alarming. It was disgusting. How could people take advantage during a time like this, when no one was left unaffected.

There wasn't enough law enforcement to deal with it. Nobody was prepared, there was no plan for this kind of thing, nothing was organized, it was complete chaos. Everybody was sad, and scared and angry.

Spider-man did his best to help. Anywhere he could.

That's where the guilt came in. Without having any one to worry about, Peter was...free.

Free to be Spider-Man without any worry or fear that someone was going to find out who he really was. He didn't have to worry about his friends and Aunt May getting hurt. In the terriblest of ways, it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders that he had never hoped for.

Peter became reckless too. He didn't care what happened to him because there wasn't anybody left to care what happened to him. There were days when he got in over his head, got sloppy, got hurt, times where he almost died. Sometimes, he didn't even fully suit up before he was swinging into danger with only his mask and webshooters.

He was pretty sure someone out there had a picture of him in just is Spidey mask, sweats pants and all of his three chest hairs out.

Before the Snap he had always felt like he couldn't catch a break. He was never good at balancing the obligation he felt being Spider-Man and his normal mundane Peter Parker life. He was always letting people down. Never could explain himself properly, even to himself, why he would drop the closet people to him just to go off and help a stranger in need. No matter what he did, it would eat at them from both ends.

Being Spider-Man was Peter's only anchor when he felt like he was left out to sea, drifting like bouey in the Bay. Swinging through the city cleared the foggy loss that clouded his mind and helping people filled the holes in his heart.

Nearly three months later, Peter quietly returned to school when it reopened and numbly finished out his years. He didn't make anyone more friends. He remained friendly but closed off to the other kids. He graduated with top marks, the teachers praised him for it but to him it was just something to do. A distraction.

Maybe if he ever saved up enough money too and applied for scholarships, he could at least go to a Empire State University with highschool diploma in hand. But any previous plans he had once for those biotechnological dreams seemed like a distant memory.

That didn't stop his love for science though, often he spent full afternoons just sitting in the public library, reading up every book he could get his hands.

In the wake of many people losing their jobs and homes from the complications of The Snap, both Stark Industries and Oscorp generously donated to the city to open. F.E.A.S.T. Centers.

Food, Emergency, Aid, Shelter and Training facilities quickly opened all over the city. They had beds and showers, lockers, a place to do laundry, they ran food drives and offered hot meals three times a day and had 24/7 counseling. They even held job fairs.

Peter had stayed a F.E.A.S.T. Center through most of highschool. Being a minor he wasn't allowed to stay by himself. He couldn't pay the bank back Aunt May's mortgage. If Peter wasn't out swinging or sitting in the library, he was volunteering there, helping out in the kitchen, taking donations, or even just cleaning duty. Regularly, he felt too guilty to take up room there, he'd rather give up his bed to someone who he felt needed it more.

On those extra full nights, Peter wasn't a stranger to catching an after midnight nap on a roof top after patrol.

Then one day there was a new help wanted sign tacked to the bulletin board in the lobby. Peter met Dr. Otto Octavius the year after he graduated. Though he lack experience, Dr. Octavius' was impressed by Peter's wide range of knowledge, and despite his little schooling, he insisted they clicked in like mindedness and was hired right away.

Settling into playing lab tech during the day and Spider-Man during the night, Peter found some steadiness to his life. He continued to keep to himself over the next couple of years. He figured less people for him to let down that way, less people to be put in danger and he definitely never ever dated.

Loneliness often churned in his chest but Peter questioned if he even deserved anything more. Could he even commit to something like that, pull someone into his mess of a life and leave them hanging clueless or in dangers sight?

Despite those thoughts, he still wanted it none the less. He just knew he couldn't have it. He's a 21 year old omegan virgin. He's practically a unicorn! Or the surprise curly fry you find mixed in with the regular french cut ones.

There's a theory floating around out there, in a plot to further lower the population, a majority of Omega's and Beta's had disappeared in The Snap. Making the second gender dominantly Alpha and substantially lowering the yearly birth rate by a margin. It was questionable if there was enough mates to go around. To say the least, Omega's like him had become a something to put up on a pedestal.

In a steep dreamy haze, Peter stands at the edge of a rooftop. Towering above the city, the lights from below flare dramatically in his vision. A giant still standing space ship hangs in sky like the eye of a hurricane. It blocks out the horizon in malestorm of swirling dark clouds.

A gaping portal spilling with a million stars looms above it. Peter strangely feels too calm by the sight before him but at odds, his heart is pounding in his ears and he's all too aware of the beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He feels to big for his skin.

The buildings start to shift and sway as he steps up to the edge, with all intending purposes of swinging off but there's suddenly no buildings to web to. The landscape escapes from him and he's standing alone on an island rooftop in the middle of the dark. Only a single flood light by the roof's exit illuminates the range.

When Peter looks down, over the edge, there is nothing but a void of pitch black. Only the sound of wailing sirens cuts through from below.

He should probably help with that. Sirens mean he needs to help. Someone needs help. Someone needs him.

Suddenly, everything twists and vertigo makes his head spin. He stumbles back unsteadily. His mask starts constricting around his face, too tight and suffocating. He can't get enough air into his lungs, and he gasps as he suddenly forgets how breathing works.

He rips the fabric off his head with haste and with no second thoughts about revealing himself. He's too desperate to care, he only needs to feel the cool night air but when he takes a heavy breath it's hot and thick like from the inside of a sauna and gives him no relief.

His suit is clinging to him unbearably with sweat. Hot, sticky slick drips down his inner thighs.

Everything feels too hot. Peak heat. Everything is spinning.

But out of no where there are large, red leathered hands steadying him. Their touch is cooling like a balm on a burn and Peter sighs. Happily accepting the relief, he lets them slip under his arms and they pull him completely away from the edge. He falls back willingly, colliding solidly with a familiar muscled front.

Peter finally remembers how too breathe as he bonelessly leans his weight back into the towering frame behind him. Hard muscles press into every inch of his flank and the hands start to roam, ghosting over his sides upwards.

They're so large, much bigger than Peter's own. They glide over his ribs, slide over his belly in an almost elusive touch. They follow the dips and rise of his muscles. They sweep over then curve his hip bone, just barely grazing where Peter wants to be touched the most and than sweeping away just when he thought he was going to get it.

He's so starved for this. His body readily accepting and awaking quickly with the simplest of suggestions and barest brush of finger tips. Just feather light touches that make his thighs tighten with anticipation. His little co*ck has never gotten harder and faster than it just has and it's not evening being touched. His ass drips and he's soaked.

It almost feels like there more than one pair of hands, he can't concentrate on a single thing, maybe there's even three or four. Touching everywhere. A pair of them fan over his chest, palms groping and fingers teasing over his tender nipples.

They toy at them through the fabric of his suit, rolling him between fingers until they turn into little pebbles. Peter's toes curl as electricity zips into his groin. Heat pools in his belly, his own hands fly out to the side to clamp around the thick thighs that are supporting him. Thick enough Peter's hands can't even fit half way around them.

Gods, his Alpha is so big, so strong, he keens in approval, digging his fingers into the meat of them.

Finger tips trace along his collar bone, back and forth and back and forth while another slips lower, lower, almost and then trailing away again. Again! Teasing.

Peter huffs in frustration and uses his tip toes to push himself impossibly closer. Rucks the cleft of his needy ass up against the hard Alpha co*ck pressed into his backside. He's so big, Peter can only grind his tailbone against. He tries anyways though, trying to stand taller still on his toes, straining to meet the hard member where he wants it. For that perfect angle to make them fit together.

A deep chuckle rattles through him from behind.

A nose pushes into his hair, huffing in and scenting him, nuzzling behind his ear. A hot, velvet tongue licks the shell of it and nips. Goosebumps erupt across Peter's skin and he begs silently, clutching at those thighs, trying to pull his Alpha closer and begging for more. He needs more.

But the hands don't seem satisfied and Peter doesn't get what he wants. As he whines desperately a shushing breath is whispered into his ear and one hand settles along his neck, fitting perfectly against the stretch of space between thumb and fingers. Peter rolls his head in total submission, surrendering his throat to his Alpha. He swallows thickly and pants a shaky breath as the lump in his throat bobs under the pressure pressed there.

It squeezes gently and his breathe hitches. Another hand digs into his hip with promises but only traces along the outside pocket of Peter's now drooling co*ck. Another full palm slides up the inside of his thigh and is hips jerk in a desperate reach for more.

"Are you going to cum?" Alpha lips press hotly against Peter's ear. Each puff of hot, moist breath makes him shake. Peter wants to nod. He already feels weak and ready to from nothing and he's only being edged closer and closer.

"Wade..." He whines, desperately wanting to. Desperately needing to. He wants to be touched more.

The hand holding his neck tightens just barely before it slips up over his adam's apple, cupping under his chin, making him crane his head even further back. Making him bare his throat completely. Textured leather finger tips trail over his lips. Peter parts them for him, the tip of his tongue seeks out a taste but the fingers are already pressing into him so sucks them in greedily.

His Alpha's lips move from his ear and mouths down his neck, sucking in spots that make his knees shake. Pointed canine teeth scrape against the sensitive skin, biting and nipping along the way. The nips are sharp and the bites hard. Hard enough to leave marks, to break skin, bites that make Peter's knees want to buckle, that make Peter keen and drool around the fingers f*cking into his mouth.

"Are you gonna cum?" His Alpha's voice ozzes, egging him, rumbling rough and deep.

"Are you gonna cum for me" he repeats taunting, like he's daring him to.

Peter nods erratically, pushing his throat into the clasping hand around it and swiveling his hips, trying to get something, anything.

"Come on then, just do it." His Alpha commands, licking a strip up his neck and kissing his cheek softly. "Baby boy."

Peter turns hastily towards his Alpha, releasing the thighs his hands are anchored to and reaching over his shoulder. Fingers slips from his wet mouth as he turns, lips seeking lips, needing to connect with release.

"Come," the words are whispered into his mouth.

Peter came in shorts and woke up in his bed at the exact same time. Heart pounding in his chest and drenched in his own sweat, sticky with slick and ji*zz like a horny teenager after their first wet dream.

Something like a groan mix with self deprecating laughter escaped him. Shouldn't he be past these types of things? How could he have a freaking wet dream about Deadpool?! A wet dream where he even didn't even get his dick touched! Peter couldn't even remember the last time he actually had a wet dream.

It was down right nasty.

He felt too hot and everything was sticking together. If he thought about it though, it was too much like waking up from a heat dream.But that couldn't be right because he wasn't expecting it any time soon.

Peter heats were on the regular like clock work. He kept track because he didn't take inhibitors for them.

Because he needed a prescription to take those. And to get a prescription he had to go to the doctor and if he went to a doctor they would probably want to take a blood sample or do a U/A for some kind of psychical, because Peter hadn't been to the doctor since he was twelve years old. And when the test results came back irregular and looking mighty suspicious, they would probably want to start asking questions that Peter wasn't willing to answer.

He usually just waited out his heats in seclusion and behind locked doors. They weren't so bad after all. He sort of liked it. Being hot and horny. He was in denial about a lot of things but being sexually frustrated was not one of them. Usually, he was too stressed out or too tired to even get it up but when his heat rolled around the longing need to being taken and f*cked was kind of good. At least the org*sms were a relief.

He just had to forget about the fact that they reminded him of how amazingly lonely he was. And the slight inconvenience of being indisposed. And the vulnerability. And the achey, unfilled, neediness with longing fantasizations about a big strong Alpha taking him from every possible position.

Peter always heated dreamed about having a big, strong alpha to him push him down and f*ck his greedy ass. He wanted to be loved so intensely and have stupid hot, crazy sex.

By a big, strong Alpha.

Like Deadpool with wide shoulder, thick thighs, rippling with muscles, so protective, and his hands...

"AUGH!!!"

Peter flailed himself free from the sheets, chucking his pillow against the opposite wall in a fit and kicking up at his nest of blankets. He peeled off his too tacky clothes and clambered up off the mattress from the floor. He wobbled from a sudden head rush and blinked away blurry sleep boogers before scrubbing his fists into his eyes.

He needed a, long cold shower. That would clear his head right up! and definitely calm him down. No more thinking about Deadpool.

Peter's bathroom was only a shower stall, a toilet and a mirror tacked onto the back of the door. His apartment was exceptionally tiny. A single room that was mostly taken up by a twin size bed, piled high with blankets and pillows and a desk over cluttered with picked apart circuit boards, tangled wires, tiny tools, his old busted web shooters, chicken scratch notes, and his cracked laptop that he had accidentally stepped on once, along with old left over pizza boxes. Other junk and gizmos over spilled across the floor and the space beneath it.

Peter's apartment was just like his life, a mess.

One wall was lined with a counter top that connected to the only sink that held a single burnt crusted frying pan and every piece of silverware he owned. A two burner stove was built into the counter next to it, but no oven in sight. There was a police radio transmitter tucked into the corner behind a tower of old Chinese boxes. The fridge stood as tall as Peter was. Smaller than a regular one and practically unused.

It wasn't much, just the bare necessities really. It was all he could afford on his barely two part time jobs, and being Spider-Man didn't pay like it should. Besides the size didn't really matter to Peter, all he needed was a place to catch some Z's and have his own private personal space but other than that he was rarely ever home enough to care.

After he was scrubbed pink and squeaky clean, Peter sprayed an over generous amount of scent blocking deodorant on his pits and pulse points and then a spritz over his junk for good measure. He brushed his teeth at the kitchen sink. Wearily eyeing the envelope on the floor by the door, a pink notice screaming at him that his rent was stillpast due.

It might have been there since yesterday or maybe it was the week before. Peter doesn't actually keep track of time. One day into the next, he was planning to pay it when he got his check from Dr. Octavius later today, anyways. Or tomorrow at the latest.

For now, he really needed to do laundry, his floor was completely lost under the mess and he did have some shame over living in an absolute pig sty.

He shuffled around, sniff checking some, stuffing stinky ones into a mesh laundry bag, other articles he'd no doubt wore to filth went straight in and the 'probably clean' ones got tossed on the desk's chair for later.

The hoodie he wore last night hung innocently across the back of the chair. Peter contemplated it for a second before approaching it with caution, like an easily startled animal ready to run. He reached for it slowly, then snatched it up quickly, bringing it straight to his nose and inhaling.

He was just checking to make sure it was still wearable! Not in any way was he looking for a certain scent. One that was mixed with his own and filled him up in a way Peter didn't know he needed and that heat started to bloom again in his core.

His cold shower clearly didn't do much when the alpha's scent quickly filled his thoughts. He wondered why the Deadpool had suddenly showed up in town, was he on business? Why did he have to smell so damn good? Would Spider-Man have to fight him, could he beat Deadpool? Peter was pretty confident in himself, he'd kept himself alive for the last six years and he's faced a whole zoo of messed up sh*t and he always got back up to do it again but he really didn't want to fight Deadpool.

He wanted to do something else.

Dreamy hot hands flashed through his mind...

"NOPE!" Peter yelped, stop that train in it's track as he threw the hoodie aside and started attacking the bed instead. He ripped the sheets off the in a flourish, crumpling them up in a self denying rage and shoved into the bugling mesh sack.

Peter wanted to flush his head down the toilet if only it would take these thoughts down the drain with it. He simply could not stop! Couldn't stop thinking about Wade. Replaying over every moment and word said last night. The sound of his voice. How he made a stupid Star Wars reference and he called him monkey boy! Spider monkey! And even, Peter swallowed, baby boy.

It did unexpected things for him.

"I don't want Wade..." He groaned out loud to his empty room.

He definitely wanted Wade. He felt magnetized, spellbound. He didn't want to put a name to it but he knew what it was. It's why his body felt so fevered. Why he had a stupid wet dream. He even knew on the way home last night, only he had hoped it wasn't true. He'd heard of it, he'd read about it, he was even excited and intrigued at the aspect of it before the whole, you know, being spider bit and great responsibilities thing.

He just didn't want it to happen like this.

He thought about the dead alpha, laying in his own blood. That happened because of him. Because Peter messed up and let his instincts take over. Yet despite even that...

"Stupid sexy Wade." With his big muscles and good smells and murderous protective persuasions... No! Absolutely completely unacceptable! Peter could not.

But everything in him said yes.

Displeased with himself he scooped up a few miss matching socks and tied the laundry bag shut a litter tighter than necessary, probably going to regret that later when he'd have to fight to undo it.

His spider suit, unforgotten, laid crumpled on the floor. He picked it up last after stepping into his shoes and sniffed at it too. Yup. Into the wash you go. But he shoved it into his backpack instead for safe keeping. The mask went into the side pocket for easy access and he slipped the straps over his arms and was ready to go. Kicking the angry pink notice out of the way on his way out the door.

It was a complete and utter chore to not think about Deadpool the whole bus ride and a half's mile walk to the F.E.A.S.T. Center. He was starting to get tired of it, it was all so around about, that the more he tried not to think of the Alpha the more he popped back into his head.

It wasn't like Peter didn't have anything better to think about! He tried everything in his power not to.

He focused on the configurations he'd be needing to calculate for the test run at Dr. Octavius' lab today, they were so close to finally finishing the artificial limbs project. He hoped Dr. O. wouldn't start without him. The man could get a little too enthusiastic about his work and didn't know when to quit even if he lit his lab coat on fire.

The configurations only got him through about half of the ride before a tall and sturdy Alpha in a bright red hoodie clambered on to the bus and sat down quietly behind him.

Big, red, Alpha, Deadpool.

Peter forcefully started reciting the periodic table in his head. He even resorted to pinching himself if his mind drifted from pre-approved thoughts. By the time he got to the Center his forearm had several welts forming into tiny bruises.

The F.E.A.S.T Center Peter had been coming to for years was an old gym renovated with its showers and locker rooms. The basket ball court had been filled with bunk beds in neat rows, where people like to mill about chatting, watching the TV's hanging by the side lines. Tables where set up in the space in between for board games or cards.

A kitchen unit was installed where they use to hold yoga classes and the like, they knocked out a few walls to make an open eating area. Up stairs the work out equipment had been removed to the basem*nt and instead there where make shift rooms that were staffed for counseling, a clinic, heat sanctuaries, and the lead directors office.

Peter liked it here because it was familiar and safe, it was like a small community where every body looked out for each other, most people there had been around just as long as Peter had, coming and going for the last few years. It was a like a little safe haven from the outside.

"Heey Peter! You're back." An elderly woman waved him down as he passed through the center court. She sat at fold up table with an another man playing chess.

"Hey Margo, how's it's goin?" He greeted politely.

"I'm kicking butt,"

"You should get checked for dementia." Mr. Guffy across from her rolled his eyes.

"Wanna play next?" She gesture to the game, "Were playing for peanuts."

"Thanks, but little too rich for my blood," he joked, "I'll leave you guys to it, good to see you though" he added with a smile and hurried along to escape his quickest from the small talk.

"They got breakfastdogs in the cantina!" She yelled across the room as he left. Some one nearby whooped "breakfastdogs!" with enthusiasm. Peter couldn't blame them, breakfastdogs were bomb. Exactly like a corndog but instead of cornbread it was fluffy, soft pancake wrapped around a savory sausage link, match that with a tiny cup of maple syrup (never enough syrup) and your choice of a banana or apple and you got the best breakfast they served at F.E.A.S.T. Unless you included good ol' donut Monday.

Peter's stomach grumbled at him at the thought of food and twisted in a fit of hunger. He hadn't eaten since his late lunch the day before.

The line to the food court was as expected, long and Peter could wait. Do his laundry first, even though there was a chance they'd run out of the delicious breakfast on a stick, he was sure they'd let him sneak into the kitchen for a wheat cake later.

The laundry room held itself in the basem*nt of the building. Two rows of six industrial washer and dryers lined on side and the work out equipment was crammed together at the other end of the open unfinished layout.

It was empty other than a middle aged man, neatly folding cleaning rags at the folding table.

Jerry was an older, middle aged alpha, graying hair in his tight curls and his face was set permanently frowning. He had the personality of bridge troll but behind that grumpy cat face were kind eyes and a soft spot for Peter.

The Alpha told him once in a quite moment when he was younger that Peter reminded him of his son who got snapped. And boy did that tug a little at Peter's heart strings, from then he always made sure to say hi and see if the man was holding up okay.

"What's up Jer-Bear," Peter greeted, letting his back pack fall off his shoulders in front of an empty machine.

Jerry grunted at the nickname but Peter knew he secretly liked it.

"Too many f*cking towels." The old Alpha growled and then paused looking him over, "laundry day?"

"Yup." Peter replied simply and started to work on the knot he created. Sheets went into one machine and his clothes went into another, there was no proper sorting of colors from black and whites he just shoved them all in and after checking to make sure Jerry wasn't watching, tossed his spider suit in too and ran it on the gentle/fast cycle, he figured it was good enough.

They didn't really exchange words after that. Jerry was never a real talkative guy for as long as Peter knew him. They sat in comfortable silence at the folding table together. Peter helped with the chore, perfectly folding squares out of the rags. The rumbling of the double washers running filled the space.

"I think I imprinted" Peter cut the silence and blurted it out of the blue, not being able to hold it in any longer and for the first time fully acknowledging out loud..

"You know, like a sea horse?" Oh god, he was going to ramble.

"They mate for life you know? Can you just imagine, Jerry, floating around, being a seahorse and then seeing another seahorse and than just...making it work?"

"No sh*t?" Jerry perked up mid fold.

"I mean, I just think-...yeah, pretty sure." Peter sighed, ducking his head and pulling at his hair. It was long enough he could totally hide his eyes behind it.

When was the last time he even had it cut? It was suddenly to long for his liking.

"I haven't even seen his face..."

"What do you mean? Who's the lucky Alpha?"

He shrugged, "It's ah... complicated?"

"Ya don't say?" Jerry hummed, "Pete, lemme tell you, from one old man to you. Don't take life too seriously, you'll never make it out alive."

"Ha... Yeah, you got that right," Peter chuckled humorlessly.

"Life is too short. And also... terribly and insufferably long."

Peter nodded silently, a small smile tugging at his lips at Jerry's attempt at humor. Or at least he thought it was humor. Honestly, he felt every word of that proverb as he dully watched the wash go round and round in the tank.

"f*ck fast and eat ass!"

"Jerry!" Peter barked with unexpected laughter, "Settle down, you animal."

Jerry grinned showing off a missing canine tooth, his fat tongue pressing into the missing space.

"I'm telling you here, don't let love pass you by Pete." He said more sincerely, "Don't be stupid. There's not enough of it left in this world."

Love? Now he really must be stupid. He hadn't even associated that feeling into the situation. How could Peter love Deadpool? Wade... He killed people, he went against all of Peter's moral standings. Everything he fought for.

His whole body visibly slumped with the weight of it. Imprinting meant the inevitability of feelings, right? He wondered what kind of trouble this was going to get himself into.

Peter almost felt heavy again, like some of that old weight was just dropped back onto his shoulders.

What was he going to do?

Notes:

Literally nothing happened in this chapter.

Chapter 3 Notes:

when I say slow burn I mean I'm gonna burn you slowly with how infrequent my updates are.

Chapter Text

'NOTICE OF EVICTION'

Peter's gut flopped as he read the words. Printed boldly and firmly scotched tapped to his apartment's door. He quickly reached for his keys, fumbling at them with sweaty fingers, temperature rising with oncoming stress. Never taking his eyes of the crisp white paper popping off the dingy door. Eyes rolling over the terms, "lease violation, non-compliance," and "tenancy has been terminated as of-" His laundry sack slipped from slacking fingers and plopped by his feet carelessly without heed.

"Nonononono," he chanted, not yet! He was just getting ready to pay. This couldn't be happening.

It only took him dropping keys once and fumbling them twice, before he was able to successfully jab it shakily into the keyhole.

Except it didn't fit.

At all. The whole damn knob and lock had already been replaced in just the short couple of hours he had been out. Like they had been waiting for him to leave that morning to swoop in and do the ol' switcharoo.

"Stupid, stupid..." He cursed at himself, a solid 'thunk' of his forehead hitting the door echoed down the empty hallway. He knocked his head against it pathetically three more times and on the third, let it rest with heavy, dejection.

He wanted to beat himself up for being so stupidly irresponsible. Aunt May would be scolding him and tutting her tongue right now if she were here. And then she would probably give him a swift kick in the ass and tell him to get over his self pity party and deal with his dumb ass mistakes.

He only let himself wallow for another minute. Then resigning and without lifting his head from the door, gathered all his will power and adulting life skills to pull out his phone from his back pocket and scroll through the phone book for his landlord's number.

It rang four times before there was a click and a husky smoker's voice picked up.

"Yeah?" It rasped harshly.

"Mrs. Rosenbaum, hi!" Peter greeted, wincing at his own fake enthusiasm, "It's Peter Parker, from #406-"

"Peter," Mrs. Rosenbaum immediately interrupted with a defensive under bite. She was clearly expecting him to call and was ready for a fight.

Mrs. Rosenbaum had always been all business and 'I have a half dozen horny bees in my bra' whenever Peter encountered her. She was short, to the point and always seemed agitated no matter what. Peter couldn't really blame her for it since he definitely didn't have the best track record with paying rent on time but he was pretty sure the Alpha woman was just a little bit of a land lording crook.

"It's final. You're evicted. We already have someone lined up from the waiting list."

"B-But... I can have the money by tonight! Please..." He begged with hope already diminishing. "What about all my stuff?"

"It's out by the trash."

"By the trash?!" He jerked upright and immediately hurried down the hall with scurrying steps, heart lurching in panic at the words. If everything from his apartment was just out sitting in the open garbage than the street scavengers would definitely be picking it apart by now!

"Yes. I've been very lenient with you-"

"I know! Mrs. Rosenbaum, I know- I'm sorry, I'm the worst, really, but -" Peter pleaded into the phone, trying to appease her with some self deprecation and than paused mid step with a small realization.

He almost forgot his laundry! He hurried back, turning on his heel and snatching it up off the floor.

"Peter, no." She sighed, overly exasperated. "I'm sorry, but you have to find somewhere else."

There was no room for arguments. That was it. There was no persuading her with his awkward 'woe as me charm'. Peter was defeated. He had pushed it too far and dug his own grave. Spent to much on take out, used too much data on his phone, self sabotaged himself right out of rent money and now he was paying for it, or...not paying for it? However that worked, either way he was officially homeless.

"Okay..." He muttered in complete desolation as he made his way down the stairs (Because the elevator had been out of order since before he had ever moved into the place.)

"Okay, I understand, thank you."

"Good bye, Peter."

"Bye..."

------

Thankfully, Peter's apartment building sat on a street that hadn't had its road fully cleared from all the crashed and abandoned cars caused in The Snap. It was completely common along the less traveled and unpopulated areas, unlike the busy main streets that were well trafficked and cleared out by now.

The whole city was like that though.

When Peter was out on patrol, he couldn't help but notice the way the city looked like a pop up book from up high. One block would be half way to crumbling from battle damage or completely laid flat by a Boeing 747 that fell from the sky and flattened five city blocks while the ones across the street could looked pristine as if it had never been touched.

Reconstruction and clean up was still a work in progress, even five years later.

And with all the old car blockage, the Sanitation Dept's garbage trucks had a more than difficult time doing their job. They would either not be able to make it or they just didn't feel the need to take the extra time to do the extra work. They were on a short handed and on schedule after all. Either way or for whatever the reason, trash was often piled up and over flowing for weeks at a time.

The only up side to living among the waste was the lower rent cost for Peter.

And by the looks and smell of it, the garbage men hadn't been around in weeks. Peter immediately smelled something like fermented milk before he even spotted his thin twin size mattress slumped against the building's wall, right next to the over flowing dumpster.

Some semblance of relief bloomed in his chest at the sight of his all things. Peter didn't own a ton of belongings but the few he did had his heart racing at the thought of losing them. Including a crochet blanket Aunt May had made herself, a box that held Uncle Ben's old camera with rolls and rolls of undeveloped film and family photos. And his laptop. Which had all of Peter's thoughts and work since high school.

"Oh thank god!" His things lay skirting the garbage heap, but some had looked like they were tossed carelessly top. Unthankfully life likes to add insult to injuries and Peter immediately slips on a wet bag, he reel backwards as his foot slides out from under him and he's twisting, trying to catch his balance, stumbling for better footing but there so much trash everywhere all of Peter's powers couldn't stop him from falling backwards into the stinking pile.

"This is it." He says to no one, laying flat out on his back "This is my life now." Right in the trash where he belonged.

Peter wanted to give up. Collapsed in the garbage, he took in the building tops out lining the alley way and the lumpy grey clouds starting to curdle with rain and contemplated his life choices. He had just lost his little home, one that he had managed to keep for almost two years. It wasn't the best place but it was affordable and it felt great to come back to and crash in when he'd been beaten and too tired and sore.

And it was gone, just like that. He was out of a roof. He needed figure something out. He wouldn't even consider trying to stay the F.E.A.S.T. Center. Somebody else needed that bed and Peter almost always regrettably let his pride get in the way of accepting help. No, he could do it, he would figure it out all on his own. Just like he always does.

But he didn't really want to.

Sometimes, Peter just felt so tired with absolutely everything. Just once in awhile he wished some one else would take over for him. Even just for a little bit. He didn't want to have to worry about money or bills or what he was going to eat for dinner or where the hell he was going to sleep.

God, he kind of wanted to cry.

He could really use a hug right now. He missed Aunt May and Uncle Ben. He would even take a hug from Deadpool. He shouldn't want that.

He had accepted the fact that he had definitely imprinted on the alpha, but he couldn't control the imprint yearning. The thoughts of his naturally selected mate settled into his being like hot burning coals. He wondered if it was like this for all imprinting or if it was just him.

He definitely needed to do some research on the subject later.

But just for a moment, Peter let himself imagine being hauled out of his trash bed and pulled into big Alpha arms that would hold him extra tight. A total bear hug that would lift his feet off the ground much like from the night before, that would completely engulf him with warm affection and care and comforting murmurings whispered into his ear.

Yeah, right.

'Why did it have to be Deadpool?'

It took longer than Peter would've liked to pull himself together.Than he wiped the tears from his eyes and got to work.

He was able to stuff his backpack full and the rest of it went into a redeemable clean-ish garbage sack. He only took what he strictly needed, which didn't turn out to be much.

Everything was there though, except his laptop. And the police scanner. Which Peter didn't necessarily need because he'd long since developed his own micro scanner implanted in his mask to pick up radio waves and RFID signals. His laptop on the other hand...

It made his heart sink. His cracked laptop was missing. Along with the USB that was plugged into it. The one that had all his research and Spidey gadget ideas. His life's work essentially

There was so much there maybe he had just missed it but after a frustrating second dig through, he came up empty handed again.

He was about to pull out his phone again to call back Mrs. Rosenbaum to ask who had cleared out his apartment when his phone coincidentally rang in his hand.

Dr. Octavius' name flashed across the screen.

Peter fumbled to unlock it with a sweaty thumb and answered, "What's up, Doc?"

"Parker!" Doc's frantic frenzied tone resonated through his ear.

"Where are you? I need you here to check the fail safes before the Grand Committee Director gets here at noon! "

Oh sh*t, was that today? He pulled his phone away from his ear, it was five past eleven. Doctor Octavius usually didn't expect him in till as late as one, as the man was a notorious night owl and spent most night tinkering away. Never taking a break or resting until the sun was shining again. Peter was perfect with that because it totally went along with his schedule of staying up late patrolling. And on the odd night, delivery pizzas.

"Uh, yeah! I'll be right there, Doc. I'm just taking care of some personal business real quick. "

"Well, get a wiggle on it then."

"What-?"

"Hurry, Parker, hurry."

"Yeahyeah-No, I got that, it's the wiggle-"

"Be here!"

Doc hung up without a goodbye, Peter smiled fondly and shook his head.

He knew he should hurry over to the lab but he couldn't pull himself away until he gave one more through search, digging through the trash before he decided that, the laptop definitely wasn't there.

Why wouldn't it be bagged like the rest of his things? Peter was almost convinced that whoever helped Mrs. Rosenbaum clear him out took it. Whoever took it was going to be seriously disappointed though cause good luck getting past his security system, pal. And of course Peter had a tracker on it. Unfortunately, it was going to wait till Peter was finished up at Doc's lab.

"Well, I guess that's it for now." He checked the time again and adjusted his grip on his belongings.

"Let's wiggle."

Giving a quick glance around and sensing no one near to see him, Peter slung up to the roof of his now, former apartment building. He knew for a fact the roof's door was always locked so he had no worries leaving his stuff there for the time being, of course he webbed them down just for safe keeping before changing into his Spideysuit.

Over the last couple of years and having free range of Dr. Octavius' lab, Peter was able to upgrade his suit from the old thrift stores sweats to something with his own graphene corded spider silk. Combined with a carbon fiber compound twill, he had an extremely durable and flexible suit.

He even, quite proudly, sewed it himself and added enforced plating to the critical hit points, like his knuckles, heels and toes for extra impact bite. And with a tight weave pattern it was slice resistant and even flame retardant but it wouldn't go as far as to stop a bullet or a stabbing. Those things where still in the works but what Peter was really proud of was his mask.

Chapter 4 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Peter hated himself a little felt as he hung up communications with Doc. He'd lied and said the bus had broken down and they didn't know when it would be back up and running again or if a replacement one was on the way or not. Octavius just blew him off and told him not to worry about it. Too get there when he can. Too manic with his own mind and too preoccupied with getting the project ready for review. Peter could only hope that Doc would be sensible in front of the Committee Head and try not to show off too much.

Peter wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, per usual. There was no game plan. He was just following his crazy, gut pulling feeling that said don't let that Alpha get away. What was he going to do though? Just follow him? Stop him if he did anything bad? Have a little chat and sip tea? This was good though, right? Scope him out some more, put the puzzle pieces together, or so Peter told himself to make his irrational thoughts seem just a little more sane. He was just too curious about what he saw back in that alley and maybe more than a little hopeful that he could find some sort of redeemable factor in Deadpool.

He wasn't totally an evil murder right?

Okay, evil was little too harsh.

Moderately...not good?

Eh.

Peter skulked the rooftops, keeping out of sight as he watched Wade make his way down the street. Being absolutely... ordinary and completely boring! He had to be doing something nefarious, right? Like going to some sort of secret mercenary convention or planning to off a multibillion business' president.

Nope, instead Peter watched him just strolling along, being completely uninteresting, checking his flip phone, checking out something that caught his interest in a shop window, checking himself out in said shop windows. Peter was almost getting a little bored waiting for something, anything to happen.

And then, just when he was starting to regret following the Merc, a string of something interestings happened.

It wasn't anything crazy but they say it's the little things that matter right? Wade bent over and picked up a quarter off the sidewalk, only to flip it perfectly into a beggars collection can. Then a little further down he watched Wade shimmy a boogaloo, doing the electric slide and hip checked a pickpocketer from pick pocketing, effectively disrupting the act and moving along like nothing happened at all. Even to the point where Peter questioned if it was intentional at all.

And then most pleasantly surprising of all, Wade offered his arm to a little, old lady as she was hesitating to step off the curb and into the street and then he chatted with her with cheerful animated hands as they crossed together at her own gentle pace.

Was Deadpool a good samaritan? Peter was starting question a few things.

As the two parted ways on the opposite corner, Wade in passing, co*ck punched a man who was preaching on the street corner, "Thanos was right!" while waving a sign above his head proclaiming he would return.

Peter probably shouldn't laugh while watching the man double over in pain but anyone who followed Thanos deserved a good punch in the dick.Freedom of speech be damned.

It only took him another block of following him before Peter started to realize where Wade had been headed. The Midtown open market. Located in an abandoned parking garage, it was filled with various vendors, craft markers and street pickers of both legal and illegal findings.

Peter loved the place, and often ended up there when he was a little too bored. He had gotten so many good deal on parts and electronics and the best part of this market was the dozen or so tasty food trucks who'd set up shop there.

Peter's mouth watered at the thought of it and he was starting to get a hint of smokey bbq in the air the closer they got.

Making a quick decision fueled by his stomach, Peter pulled off his backpack and changed back into the clothes he was going to wear to the lab. He ended up looking like a nerd in a pull over sweater and wrinkled slack but then again, he is a nerd so who cares. Not like he's gonna impress Wade if he runs into him or anything.

Peter checks his wallet, one that Uncle Ben use to use, and finds a single, crisp ten dollar bill he was keeping for emergencies. It wasn't an emergency but Peter was kind of in a 'idgaf' mood about life right now. That ten dollar bill was going to get him something good. Like a Philly cheese steak or green chilies pork tamales.

Completely de-spider-man'ed, Peter drops down into the empty alley way and peers out around the corner, making sure he hadn't been noticed by Wade or anyone else. He waits, watching Wade's broad back get smaller and smaller with distance before stepping out and trailing behind.

The marketplace was it's usual weekend crowd, not over crowded but still bustling with people and smells, over lapping voices and wafting hints of pheromones. Peter ducked and weaved through the milling bodies, trying to keep his sight on Wade's hooded head from a distance and not look suspicious at the same time. He hung back waiting when Wade stopped to look at a stall, he debated his next move when it happened.In a blink of an eye, Wade was gone.Mixed into the crowd and gone without of sight.

Peter took a deep breath as the same feelings came back. There's no need to panic. Keep it cool, we're all cool here. He's here somewhere...

But he couldn't stop his throat from tightening and the twisting in his chest. He didn't want to lose Wade but he wasn't going to be a sitting duck to be found out by the Alpha either.

He decided to just make his way to the food truck lot on the next level. He would grab a bite to settle his stomach. No big deal. There's a high probability the Alpha wouldn't leave the market without getting some food to eat too, right? Peter could just get something and pick a seat with an advantageous view and wait it out. Plus he really was starving.

He kept his eyes open though as he made his way through, scanning over the vendors and stands, even stopping momentarily at a scrapper's table. The seller had a nice shiny generator that had caught his eye. Peter could think of several uses for it and there's a high end mother board he'd love to pick up. Except, he didn't have any money for stuff like that so he moved long.

He was moving around a small crowd of bystanders watching a beautiful woman dancing to the sound of bucket drums when he felt an gentle tap at his shoulder.

"Excuse me,"

Peter craned a curious look over his shoulder at the voice. Heart leaping, expecting it to be Wade but it was another tall man, handsome in his own way and smelling like alpha.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but notice you."

Peter blinked. What was there to notice about him? Slowly, he turned to face the man. It wasn't like this was the first time an Alpha randomly approached him.

"Uh- Sorry? What's up?"

"I mean, I couldn't help but notice your scent as we crossed passed." The man took a step closer, eyes roaming over him, lingering on Peter's unmarked neck and without permission, he leaned in and inhaled. His nostrils flaring while his lips turned up in a little smile.

"You smell about ripe."

"Ex-excuse me?!" Peter sputtered. Ballsies as f*ck dude! Peter felt his face grow hot as he stepped back in shock? Embarrassment? Anger? He must of sweat off some of the blockers he'd applied that morning when he was web slinging. Changing his clothes twice probably didn't help the matter either. Real careless, Peter Parker.

The stranger retracted with a throw away chuckle, "I'm sorry. I have an abnormally strong nose. I think I can help you."

The man righted himself back to his full height over Peter as he pulled out a paper flyer from a stack he held under one arm and offered it to him.

"I'm an advocate with a support group, we offer health care, no questions asked. By the smell of it, you don't take inhibitors. And you're not mated. It's a dangerous world out there, you know, if you need help.."

Peter looked between the man's face and the paper suspiciously before he slowly reached out to take it.

-------

"The Helping Omega Relief/Disaster Effort

'Offering pack support and protection. Health assistant, encouragement, comfort, and relief.'

-------

Followed by smaller details, several forms of contact information as well as location.

Huh. It actually didn't sound that bad, kind of neat actually.

"Uh-wow, that's pretty cool." Peter replied with genuine surprise, however he still felt a bit unsettled about being approached about his second gender. "Thanks."

"We're looking for new members and volunteers. That's my personal number on there, if you have any questions or want to chat. My name is Colin Nobel."Nobel explained with a smile so charming, Peter couldn't stand to look him in the face.

"We accept all genders but we're majorly geared towards Omega's, like yourself."

"Well," Peter started, taking it into consideration. It did sound like a good cause and maybe he could benefit from it, especially with what he was currently going through but he wasn't ready to give this man committed answer. "I don't have much to give and I can't promise anything... "

"Oh, it's alright. I can tell that you have so much to offer."

Peter's discomfort must have been clearly written on his face, Nobel tried to laugh it off again "Aha, I mean, I'm sure you'll be plenty of help. It'll be plenty of help. And we can help you too." Nobel dropped a hand onto his shoulder and gave it squeeze that was a tad bit too close to Peter's neck. Making his omega nerves tingle and toes curl in his shoes. The Alpha's hand and eyes lingered too long and Peter took a step back. Yeah, no thanks.

"Well..." Peter trailed off, looking for a polite way to end the awkward encounter. "Um- thanks for this."He took another step backwards. Thinking he could just walk away from the whole situation without causing a scene.Peter wasn't making it too far though, with a solid wall behind him. A solid wall that turned out to be another person.

"Ah! Oh, sorry-!" Peter started to apologize quickly, turning his head over shoulder.His heart jumped."Wade!?"

Peter slapped a hand over his mouth in his own surprise, having shouted the alphas name so unexpectedly. He stared up at him but Wade wasn't looking back down at him, Wade was glaring? at Nobel. Peter looked back and forth between them, suddenly getting the feeling he was about to be caught in between an Alpha pissing contest.

"This guy bugging you, baby boy?" Wade's voice came out deeper than Peter had ever heard before and he had to lock his knees in place because he didn't trust his legs to not give out suddenly.

"Heh, I was only trying to help him," Nobel, having lost his sweet-n-low demeanor interjected before Peter could make his tongue work. "I didn't know he was with anyone. "

"Yeah? How about you make like a tree and f*ck off then."

The muscles in Noble's jaw tick and tighten. He inhaled deeply through his nose and his eyes fell momentarily shut as he rolled his neck. Peter could tell the Alpha was holding back whatever instinct was telling him to fight for dominance.

"Only if he says he's okay," Nobel's eyes opened back up and fell down to Peter's own as he spoke, seeking some sort of consent. "I'm not comfortable leaving an Omega with some... masked freak."

Wade out right growled, Peter's gut flopped and he simultaneously felt his himself bristle with anger at Nobel's word. "Hey! Waita minute-!"

And then Wade took his turn cutting Peter off, silencing him by crowding himself into Peter's space, towering over him from behind. The air of dominance made his head swim and Wade's scent made him go dumb. Peter had to force himself not to take a step forward under the pressure. Instead, he let himself fall back into it, leaning back into the Alpha to keep his balance from toppling forward or maybe he was trying to hold Wade back from going ape on Nobel.

"I'm only warning you once, bub!"

Peter was really grateful for the barrier of his backpack between Wade's front and his back because this position was a little too close to the dream he just had.

"Eww, why did we say that! We gotta stop hanging out with Wolvie so much," Wade's tone suddenly switched up and he was flailing both hands like he touched something gross.Peter, although confused, took the chance to get his voice back.

"You know what, Colin? I'm fine, thanks!" He said quickly. "Thank you for this," he waved the flyer through the air, "and I'll think about it."

Nobel tried to hold his eyes but Peter was already turning away from him, not giving him the opportunity to object. He waited for the other man to leave before he forced himself to look up at Wade. Who was still standing way too close.

And Wade was already looking back down at him. A grin broke out through his mask when their eyes met. "Hiya." He purred"Fancy meeting you twice in two days. Are you stalking me? 'Cause that would be super."

"What?! No!" Peter blurted out too quickly.

'Crap, don't be suspicious Parker!'

"I haven't," he added, playing it off with a scoff, not guilty at all.

"Ooo, what's got you so squirrely then?" Wade plucked at Peter's sweater near the shoulder, then reached out and smoothed the fabric down, over his his shoulder.Just like where Nobel had touched him. But Peter liked it this time and the tenseness he was holding there fell away.

"Who was that guy bee-tee-dubs? "

"Just some guy, I don't know him." He replied, shoving the paper flyer into his pocket and turning away. He felt like if Wade watched him too long he really was going to find out what he was so squirrey about. Did alpha's feel anything when an omega imprinted on them? He started walking towards the food trucks for a distraction, Wade followed close at his side.

"I know who you are though." He added changing the subject and hoping to fish for some information.

"Wade Wilson, duh. Didn't catch your name though."

"No, I mean..." Peter cleared his throat and licked his lips as he stated more tentatively, completely ignoring the request for his name.If there was one thing he could hold over the Merc it could be that. "I know what it is you do."

"Oh," Wade paused mid step, one foot in the air like he was caught off guard but he quickly recovered by doing some weird double jump motion that probably shouldn't even be physically possible outside of video games. His biceps bumped together with Peter's shoulder on the come down.

"It's all false acriminations, baby boy. Don't listen to the fake news."

"Acrima-...do you even English?"

"Does a bear sh*t on the pope?"

Peter was caught off guard and laughed unexpectedly. He left the last of his tension float away and he was helplessly amused. His perception of Wade was being rearranged as the seconds passed by. The guy was funny, oddly protective of someone he's just met and kind enough to help strangers. Maybe he was judging the Alpha to soon?

Then the dead body laying in the open of the alley flashed in his mind and Peter thinned his lips, pressing the smile away. He couldn't give in so easily just because the guy was a little funny and had done a few good deeds. Wade was clearly avoiding the conversation by being ridiculous with evasive jokes. He couldn't let his guard down so easily.

Peter could appreciate the humor though. Most people these days always had a certain gloom hanging about them.

"Okay, listen!" The Alpha waggled a finger after him when the Omega didn't reply quick enough for him. "It's better to have a gun and need it than to not have a gun and not need it. BUT you don't ever, ever, ever, ever have to worry about that."

Was Wade even making sense?

"You can talk to me when you graduate from grade six."

"C'mon! It's not rocket appliances!" Wade exclaimed matter of factly, looking smug the more Peter smiled, " And can't stop now if it's got your eyes shining like that. Twinkle, twinkle, little star how I wonder what in the f*ck do I gotta do for you say oh yeaaah daddy, date me! date me!"

Peter flushed a little and he looked around. Did Wade have to talk so loudly? "You don't even know if I'm single."

"Oh, you are." There was a weird undeniable charm about Wade's persistence that made Peter a little giddy. If it was any other Alpha it would be out right annoying but maybe that was just imprint talking. Maybe Peter's defenseless were completely gone to the man's advances.
.
"Or else you wouldn't be sniffing around me like you've been since you caught me with my big pickle out. Did you see something you liked, baby boy?"

"I-that wasn't- you.. ugh, oh my god-! "

"Thinkthinkthink, uh-oh panicking, work on instinct Peter! No, stop! The instincts have been compromised!"

"Stop calling me that." Peter muttered lamely and feeling the tips of his ears and cheeks burn as he feebly pushed Wade away further away. He didn't actually get a good look at Wade's dick last night. He was a little preoccupied but the impression he did get it was ...yeah. A big pickle.

"It's okay, you don't have to answer, I can tell on account of you gettin' all hot and bothered just now. Does that shade go all the way down?"

'Abort!'

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter turned abruptly and started walking the other way just to get away from the ruthless flirting, his little virgin brain just couldn't keep up.

"Heeyyyy! Wait, nononono. Oh. Wait, hold up, keep walking. I'll just be back here."

Peter looked back over his shoulder to find Wade's white eyes trained low, realizing exactly where the Alpha was looking at, Peter slapped his hands over his butt with super speed and turned back around to face him.

"Haha! C'mon lemme buy you a coffee. Or hot coco, you look more like you drink coco, what are you like, 15? oh God please don't say he's fifteen."

Peter blinked at the request. A coffee? That's so... Normal.

"You wanna buy me coffee?"

"Oh, I wanna buy you a lot of things but we can start off with cup of coco. Extra marshmallows. "

"I'm 21 dude, I drink coffee."

"Oh thank you, sweet baby Jesus! Alright, Baby Gap! Let's get you some coco."

Peter took a second to mull it over. Did he dare risk spending more time with the Alpha? The man hadn't done anything inherently bad today, maybe Wade deserved a chance. And maybe Peter could find out why Deadpool was in New York City.

"How about some street truck food instead? I think there's tamales here."

"Now you're speaking my language!"

Notes:

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chapter 5 Notes:

#Unbeta'd
#pleaseloveme
Fickle Finger of Fate just means the universe is giving Peter a big "f*ck YOU" middle finger. Or alternatively maybe it means Thanos snapping his fingers and being the cause of this 'verse. I also think Wade would approve of the alliteration
Alternative titles:
Everything that Can, Will
Parker's Law

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Talking with Wade was like playing a game of ping pong. Fast paced and back and forth, bouncing off of each other with no effort. Although they weren't actually talking about anything in particular, Peter was finding out he rather enjoyed Wade's company. After he had started to relax a little.

In the span of forty minutes Peter knew Wade liked the 'adorable nerd thing he had going on.' And Wade was also kind of a nerd himself. That he can speak five different languages fluently and can say "chimichanga" in seven. That he had bovinophobia.

("You know cows share about 80% of DNA with humans, right?"

"...Don't you dare f*ck with my head like that.")

He also had a bizarre habit of talking out loud to himself and he's full blooded Canadian beefcake, Wade's words, not Peter's.

"I bet your favorite Ninja Turtle is Donatello."

And one time he got his hand stuck in a Pringles can for four hours.

"Every one knows Michelangelo is the best." Peter doesn't say he is wrong about Donatello though, of course he liked the nerdiest one. He just likes to stir the pot a little.

"False! It's Raphael and that's been scientifically proven. You can't argue with the science, baby boy."

And he hasn't gotten around to figuring out what Deadpool was up to in New York.

"Raphael's a twat."

The bubbling laughter that came out of Wade made Peter smile too. He was having a hard time remembering that he was suppose to be on a reconnaissance mission right now.Not a date.

"Aren't you gonna eat anything?" He asked between bites as the man's laughter died down. Peter eyed the food he had paid for but hadn't touched.

Wade had bought them a dozen tamales from "Chica's," a food stall owned by petite young woman who wore her hair in two braids and spit Spanish as fast as the devil could play the fiddle.

They got two of each kind, and then they got a second dozen street tacos from the same stand. The kind that come four in a little paper boat, with the double layer of tortilla and fit in your mouth with two bites.

Wade outright refused to take Peter's money, even after he insisted. In fact, Wade was being something that could have been categorized as a down right gentleman. He didn't try an more pushy flirting once Peter had agreed to accompany him (not to say he gave up the flirting all together) and he didn't pry at him with invasive questions about himself. Though he did keep almost too close the entire walk there. He let Peter take the lead just a little ahead of him. Not exactly walking by his side but not totally behind him either, just almost over lapping.

The Alpha had thought he was being sneaky and maybe he would have been if Peter didn't have enhanced hearing and he wasn't hyper aware of every move Wade made. He caught the man taking a deeper breath once and then twice in attempt to catch his Omegan scent. Peter really hoped his deodorant was holding up and he wasn't smelling as "ripe" as that guy had said. Yet at the same time he secretly hoped he smelled just as good as Wade smelled to him.

Wade wouldn't even let him help carry the food to the table which could have been taken a little as chauvinistic Alpha control but Peter found it endearing as they settled down on a rickety wooden picnic benches across from each other. Peter was so hungry and grateful to have food that he didn't even notice Wade wasn't eating until he was one taco boat down and three and half tamales in.

Wade smiled at him through his mask with his elbow on the table and his chin rested in the palm of one hand. "I'm just enjoying the show right now."

Peter looked back up from his bite, both cheeks stuffed like a chipmunks and a chunk of sauce dripping chicken hanging between his lips. He shifted in his seat under Wade's white eyed stare and swallowed slowly, licking his lips clean before he spoke.

"Is it cause you don't wanna show your face in public? Like, secret identity?"

Of course, Peter is super curious about what's underneath.

"Nah, Even Care Bears don't care about my identity. Nobody here wants to see this." The Alpha twirled one gloved hand about his face as he spoke. He sounded like he was making a joke but somehow Peter got the impression that he really wasn't and it unexpectedly made his chest a little tight. Did Wade really believe that?

"I do."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Peter froze.

Wade suddenly sat up straighter.

They both stared at each other over the table and Peter wanted to melt through the bench and sink into the pavement. He couldn't believe he just said that without thinking!! Holy crap, can he just eject himself from the universe now!? His face suddenly felt like it was catching on fire.

"Oh, that's just not fair." Wade whispered lowly, whether it was for Peter to hear or not, he wasn't sure, "Just trust me when I say, you really don't."

Peter dropped his eyes down to his plate and started to pick at some of the loose onion slivers and cilantro bits that had fallen out. "Can't be that bad." He muttered sheepishly. He really didn't care about what the Alpha looked like under the mask but he totally understood if he didn't want to take it off. If Wade was asking Spider-Man to pull off his mask, he would definitely say no too.

"Hey, what's that?"

Peter startled when he felt the cool tips of his gloved fingers brushing away the hair that hung over his forehead. He looked up through his lashes, watching as Wade had reached across the table.

"Boop!"

"Ow!"

Peter smacked the offending hand away and went to rub the spot himself. His own fingers ghosted over the now throbbing lump that had formed on his forehead. Realizing he had nearly forgotten (but more like blacked it out because that was just an embarrassing display of Spider-Man grace) about smacking his head face first into that hijackers windshield. He wondered if it looked as bad as it felt.

"That's a nice goose egg you got there. Didja get that last night?"

"Um-no." Peter hummed dismissively and fixed his hair back over it, palm running over the golf ball sized lump, mentally noting how Wade was good at avoiding subjects when he wanted to. Peter was okay with letting the mask thing drop. He just felt bad for stuffing his own gut when Wade wasn't going to eat any of the food he had paid for.

"Was it that guy?"

"What?! No!"

Why was Wade so hung up on him?

"It wasn't. I just...slipped in the shower this morning. It's just a bump."

Why did Wade even care about a stupid bump on his head.

"You slipped? What a convenient and believable excuse." He didn't sound convinced at all and Peter had a briefly wondered if Wade might have some sort of super lie detecting power.

"Yeah, uh..So," he drawled in his own poor attempt to change the subject. "Speaking of New York based super turtles. What are you doing here? In New York, I mean."Real smooth transition Parker, could you be any more blatant?

"Are you here for...work?"

Guess he could.

"Eh, We're sorta like 7-Eleven." Wade explained with a laid back tone, "We're not always doing business, but we're always open."

Right. He should have known Wade wouldn't give him a straight answer considering the Merc had also avoided the subject when Peter had confronted him about his line of work earlier.

"You're a local, right? You ever meet this guy? I wanna meet this guy."

Another change of subject from Wade.

He watched the alpha fish out his phone and scroll through it before handing it over for Peter to see.He was met with a picture of himself. That picture. The one where he's swinging around town, no shirt, no shoes and he's just wearing his mask and a pair of questionably stained sweat pants that look like they're about to fall off his hips. It's of decent quality, objectively, Peter shouldn't be ashamed of this shot because his body looks great. But he can feel his face heating again. He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it again when his brain won't supply him words.

Wade pulls his phone back and looks at it himself.

"Whoopsies! That ones for the spank bank. Now here! Check this out! He's totally ripping me off, right?"

Another picture gets pushed in front of him. It's a less clear than the spank bank photo, there's a blur of motion to his swinging form, at least this time he's in full suit. Red, blue, webs and all.

Was Wade here for Spider-Man? Was Deadpool here for Spider-Man? Why did Wade have pictures of him on his phone? Wade had a picture of him shirtless and it's in his spank bank. He doesn't know what to do with that information. For a micro second he thinks about just telling Wade everything. Like,

"That's me! I'm Spider-Man and I imprinted on you and I'm really conflicted about it cause you kill for a living but holy crap you smell soo freakin' good, please hold me."

Except Peter is too chicken to actually do it and he's still staring at the screen because Wade hasn't pulled it back yet because Peter hasn't been able to make words because all the moisture has been sucked out his mouth and his tongue is just a giant, fat cotton wad stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"You sure it's not the other way around?"

Wade gasps over dramatically and quickly snatches his phone back, clasping it with both hands to his chest."You're taking his side?! Betrayed by my newest Bosom Buddy! How could you! Wait-! Don't tell me you're in his fanclub too."

The phone in his hands suddenly rings, interrupting with the Kill Bill Ironside siren. Peter watches him check the screen and reject the call.

"Anywa-.."Kill Bill's sirens cut him off again.

Wade groands and stands, then clears his throat with over exaggeration and with a French accent said, "...Excuse moi."

The Alpha walked a few places away before he answered the phone sounding annoyed, "Of all the jerk offs to survive big Barney's one handed co*ck clap, your flaccid winkie had to be one to make it out alive."

Peter could only make out half of the return murmur over the line but the end bit definitely sounded like, "Dickpool!"

Wade walked short distance away from the sitting area. Then he turned around and made eye contact with Peter while spoke into the phone. Peter debated if it was right or wrong to try and ease drop on the conversation, maybe he could get more information out of it but with the Alpha's eyes on him Peter became too unnerved to do it. He tried to let Wade's voice mix in with the other sounds of the market place instead.

He listened to a plip, plip as rain drop started to fall outside, those curdling dark grey clouds that had been gathering all day finally opened up and a steady staccato of rain drops echoed around the open air parking garage. A sweeping gust of wind blew in and made Peter shiver.

"I hope my stuff doesn't get too wet..." he thought sourly, it would just be another wonderful thing to add to his day.

Being with Wade almost made him forget all his problems.

Sighing, Peter pushed away his plate and pulled out his phone to check the time. An unexpected red triangle icon greeted him at the lock screen. The kind that was telling him a login was detected, device access denied. Too many password attempts. Are you sure this is you?

Someone was trying to access his laptop! So it was just as he thought, someone had stolen it and was now trying to get past his security system. With a flick of his thumb and tap Peter opened his tracking app and put the GPS to work. He waited anxiously for it load through the crappy connection.

"Bad news, booboo"

Peter jumped like he just got caught doing something bad and flipped his phone upside down in a hurry as Wade returned to the table, looking at him with one eyebrow raised in question

"Sorry, what was that?" Peter smiled innocently. He really wasn't doing anything wrong.

"I gotta go take care of some sh*t, you know, meet a pig, carry an old lady up a mountain, sing song a while she drinks from a stream."

"Oh." Was that suppose to be code for something or...? "Actually, I've got... something too." Peter gestured with his phone as he stood up from the bench, pocketing his device and starting to clean up the table. Wade helped himself too and dug through the food bag with both hands. He pulled out two fist fulls of tamales and shoved into each pocket of his pants with a cheerful, "Pocket snacks!"

"Go ahead and take the rest, baby boy. Get some meat on those bones."

Peter wasn't going to argue with that and uttered his thanks happily.

"And one more thing."

He looked up at the Wade and started wondering why he was suddenly watching the alpha undress. As the hoodie came up and off over this head, some primal part of Peter told him to drip his eye sight towards the Alpha's waist and watch the hem be pulled back to reveal what was underneath.

Disappointingly, there was no slip of skin, just more red and black leatherkevlar beneath a white undershirt and the heavy presence of a D. Eagle tucked into the front of the elastic band of his sweats. Peter eye'd it's grip, he had forgotten seeing it earlier and just now realized he was walking around with a guy who had zero hesitation in using it.

He knew how that gun sounded, he could still hear the bang! the ringing, the thud of a body hitting the ground, the smell of gun powder, of blood, of Wade. But Wade did it to protect him, the other guy shot first remember? Wade would have been dead if he couldn't heal. What if Peter had imprinted and then his Alpha had died. What if Wade died. That sounded just like his luck but that's not what happened. Was he thankful for that...?

Peter was simultaneously torn up and turned on at the same time. A very confusing mix of feelings that distracted him enough to not notice when Wade rounded the table on him and snapped him out of his little self crisis by wrestling the sweatshirt over his head.

Peter let out an unattractive squeak of protest and threw his hands up in a futile attempt of struggle but once he had a face full soft cotton and breathed in that promising scent, he went completely pliant. Instant brain number, where he was again? What was happening? The warmth from Wade's body still clung to it and Peter automatically shrugged into it and pulled his arms through. He didn't realize how cold he was until he was fully encased by the soft, plushy warmth.

Looking down at himself, he saw the hem of it fall just before his mid thigh and the sleeves too long, hung over his finger tips. It made him feel... small. And for some reason, he liked that.

"oh no..." Peter suddenly felt himself get wet. Just a little. Just the tiniest bit. He squeezed his thighs together and stared holes into the pavement. He never slicked up in public before! Mortified, he prayed the hoodie covered him enough.

Stupid body, not now! It was impossible for him to look back Wade now.

"sh*t, that's freakin' adorable." He realized the Alpha was watching him the whole time. Peter hoped to God he couldn't tell what was going on underneath his clothes.

"Wh-what's this for..?" Peter managed to sneak a glance.

"Hm? You looked cold and uh-.." Wade scratched at his cheek, looked down at him and didn't finish his sentence. What was he going to say?

"Given your... Ahem, "circ*mstances," he continued, using air quotes here. "I just think you'd be, better off with that." He offered, sounding awkward while beating around the bush.

Peter stared at the Alpha's feet until it hit him. Wade gave him something to mask his scent. To make him smell like he had an Alpha. To make him smell like Wade. He wanted to smell like Wade.

"I don't need your... I can take care of myself, Wade." He said finally looking up at him, well he did say that but here he was slicking and smelling ripe and secretly happy.

"I know that! I get it!" Wade threw up his hands, palms facing out in defense. "You're a strong, independent Omega and you don't need no Alpha but it's raining and you're small, pint sized really." He gestured emphasis by holding up his thumb and forefinger only an inch apart "And you'd probably catch a cold like Minnesota. Soooo, just take it."

Peter didn't have any plans of taking it off in the first place.

"Anywhoozle, we gotta skeedaddles."

"H-hey! Wait."

Wade hadn't gone anywhere though, he was still standing in front of him. Peter hadn't meant to call out to him but he did. Now what was he going to say?

"Gimme your phone number. I mean, could I have, can I. Get.... your number. " Pull it together, Parker! "So I can give you your sweatshirt back."

Peter pulled out his phone and unlocked it without an answer. The tracking app was still open, Peter glanced it and immediately saw his laptop has pinged its locations back at the apartment building. A small feeling of relief rolled off his back, retrieving it should be easy enough now.

And then the phone was being pulled out of his hands.

"W-wait!" He grabbed for it but the too long sleeves got in the way and Wade held it up high out of reach. Not that Peter couldn't snatch it back if he really tried to.

"I'll make you a deal."

"what... kind of deal?"

"An exchange of information. My number, your name."

Peter hesitated. What was the big deal of his name anyways. It was only a zero degree of separation between him as Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

Oh, screw it. What did he care anymore, let's just see what happens.

"It's Peter."

"Peter." Wade purred his name in a way that sent a zip of thrill down his spine as he watched the Alpha fidget with his phone.

Peter kept his hand out anxiously waiting for Wade to finish. It shouldn't be a big deal about his tracker being open. He muttered something about just closing that app, that he left his laptop somewhere to Wade, not really sure if the older man was paying attention to him or not. It wasn't anything important. He didn't even live in that building anymore, it's not like the Merc would find out where he lived, Peter didn't even know where he lived.

When the Alpha placed the phone back into his hand Peter's fingers quickly curled around it greedily and brought it to his face to check it.

Wade filed his name under, "Big Daddy"

Peter hurriedly squeezed his thighs together again.

"Alright, baby boy. Keep in touch." Wade fiddled with something at his waistline, under his pants and then-

"BAMF"

Peter fell back as Wade blipped out of existence.

Did Wade have a freaking teleportation belt?!

Notes:

I'm honestly surprised that this has gotten so many comments and kudos and bookmarks. Thanks for all the support.

Chapter 6 Notes:

Not really an update. Just consider this a little bonus piece cause I never planned on writing in DP's pov.

Chapter Text

"Boner, engaged!"

"All right, calm down now. You're gonna give us a case of the blue balls."

"DID YOU SEE HIM THOUGH." Wade popped back into existence two blocks away and had to adjust his half hard dick into a more comfortable position. The sight of that blushing, baby faced Omega swimming in his hoodie was enough to stimubate him for a months.

"He totally wants us! AN OMEGA! A male omega. That's so freakin' hot!" Yellow squealed.

"Way to fetishize an outdated social construct." White chuffed back.

Wade was feeling like the luckiest Alpha in the world. After last night he didn't think he'd ever see the little Omega again. The one who had fallen into his arms, clinging to him, begging him to be comforted and protected. The one who rubbed their soft, buttery biscuit, honey dripping, dulce le leche, down right mouth watering and f*cking divine scent all over him.

Wade had been so into a sparkly, pink bubble of fuzzy-wuzzy warm good feelings that he ended up showing off with his big boom booms and scaring the poor thing off.

The rejection hurt more than he expected.

(But that didn't stop him from going back to his apartment to play a little five finger knuckle shuffle with the ol' one eyed yogurt slinger.)

But then he'd gotten the feeling deep down in his jellies that someone was watching him on the streets that day. The last person he ever expected to see again was the same Omega. Curiously scenting at the air with big, brown Bambi eyes searching and making Wade's heart do cartwheels in his chest.

Then he saw another Alpha touching the kid. Wade felt something inside of him snap and some very feral feeling clawed to get out. He kept his cool though, mostly. He knew he had no right to be acting so possessive. But Peter was so receptive to him. The Omega put up an adorable, tough cookie act but Wade could tell what a sweet, baby cinnamon roll he really was and he absolutely couldn't resist being a tease and taking advantage of the situation.

Meeting again couldn't have been a coinkidink.

"It's Fate!"

"It's not Fate."

"It has to be three times for Fate." Wade corrected.

Maybe if they met one more time...

Peter had said he would return the hoodie. (Hopefully unwashed!) Then they would have met three times.

Hoodie of Fate!

"Why would he want me though?" He disparaged.

There was no way in Hell. None.

"Yeah, if he knew what you looked like under the sock, he'd probably puke!"

"You are disgusting." White affirmed matter of factly.

"Nightmarish." Wade agreed with the voices and sighed. He was ugly.

"Grotesque."

Completely off his nut too.

"Hehe, you said nut."

Someone so innocent, sweet and puppishly cute like Peter could never be interested in him. The kid had to be confused. If the new hint of sultry spice that was laced into his sweet scent was any indication, the kid's biology was being riddled with hormones and ramping him up to mate. Not to mention he was probably traumatized from being chased and shot at the night before. It was oblivious he was just associating Wade as good and prospective Alpha who had protected him. The boy was only reacting naturally.

Yup, that was definitely the answer.

"Yeah, you're a total dumpster fire. Who could ever like you?"

"I don't even like you."

"f*ck off."

Chapter 7 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Peter couldn't remember the last time he felt like this.

At the next stop, he'll get off the bus and deal with all the bull sh*t that is his life but right now...

He just wanted to pretend his life was normal for second.

A stomach full of food, wrapped up warm in a too big hoodie and butterflies in his belly. Just watching the rain drops make patterns across the bus 'window.

Even though it would have been twice as fast to web sling across town, Peter just wanted to sit in this feeling for a moment.

With his nose buried into the collar of Wade's hoodie, he just wanted to be Peter for a moment longer, a needy omega, happily wrapped up in his alpha's hoodie. He didn't even care right now. He was too tired to even pretend or deny that Wade's scent smelled good. Big deal. It was comforting. He liked it. It helped sooth him. Maybe spending time with Wade was okay. Maybe they could be friends. If it wasn't for the initial first impression, he definitely would have found himself wanting to be friends with the mercenary. Maybe that could be enough. A little touching here and there and some scenting.

He would be in denial if he thought that would work. Peter could feel it coming. His heat was way off schedule. Only further proof of the imprinting and just another big, fat inconvenience to add on to the, "let's make Parker's life a sh*t show" pile.

He was going to have to find a place to wait it out. He could always use the heat sanctuary at the F.E.A.S.T. Center. He'd done it before when he was a couple years younger. The nurse there knew him, they'd help him. Supply him with estrus reducers and the right tools to get through it alone. It was sound and scent proof and it was safe. But it felt awkward knowing there were people hanging around. It wasn't his favorite option but at least it was one. He would prefer to lock himself into his apartment where he was comfortable among his own things but that obviously wasn't an option anymore.

Peter worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He had to stay away from Wade for awhile. Thinking about earlier, how just the smallest hint of Wade's scent on the wind made him ditch Doc and go looking him, had him cringing at himself. There should be a book called 'More Poor Decisions Making by Peter B. Parker,' with his dumb face on the cover. He didn't know how he was going to react to his heat now with an imprint but he could just imagine himself going wild and hunting down Wade to beg him for his D.

He already felt like he was going crazy.

And Peter's little co*ck perked up in interest at the thoughts of hunting down Wade and his D. Wade's big body, looming over him, pushing him down..Discreetly, Peter pushed the heel of his palm into the base of his shaft until it hurt and he was sure the blood flow had stopped. He gave his hole a little clench just to make sure he hadn't started leaking again too and mentally scolded his body to get a hold of itself.

He had to ignore that part of him that told him to just let it happen. To give in.Peter took pride in being smarter than his instincts though.He couldn't admit to how desperately he wanted to be taken and claimed.

"Well Peter, it looks like you're damned if you do, and damned if you don't." Peter could her Aunt May tutting in his head.

And what about Wade? Did he even want Peter? Yeah, he definitely seemed interested but than again it also seemed like 'flirt' was his base line personality. Was he trying to steer him when he told him he wouldn't want to see his face? Maybe that was some kind of hint Peter was suppose to pick up on. Peter was terrible at taking hints.

What if Wade was already mated?

His stomach pitted at thought and suddenly he felt so insecure. He was worrying about too many things. He had too many questions, he missed Aunt May, he wanted to talk to her.

But since he didn't have Aunt May anymore, he did the next best thing that any floundering young adult could do. Ask the internet.

Peter typed in "imprinting" into the search bar on his phone and down the rabbit hole he went.

"Did I imprint?"

"How do I know if I imprinted"

"How to make an Omega imprint on you"

"Imprintingis the involuntary bonding mechanism between an Omega and it's optimal Alpha match. A profound, intimate phenomenon that only exists among the Omega gender."

"The imprint yearning will be compulsively strong until a formal bond is consummated."

"All Omega's have the ability to imprint but the likely hood of finding their true match is estimated at less than 20%"

"Omega imprinting, heat, and fertility."

"Related searches: fated mates, bonding, mating links,"

"So Alpha's don't imprint?" He thought to himself, feeling disappointed that Wade wasn't feeling the same magnetic pull.

That wasn't fair at all.

Peter's stomach clenched. He swallowed dryly and looked back out the rain splattered window.

He didn't want to think about it anymore. These ups and downs were too much.

He should check in with Doc. Then again, maybe he should wait for the man to contact him instead. He opened his phone book and went to Doc's contact number but paused.

There weren't many numbers saved in his phone book so Wade's "Big Daddy" was impossible to miss. The name taunted him. Peter read over the alpha's phone number once in his head and committed it to memory in an instant. Then he deleted the name and changed it to, "Deadpool" because the other one made him want to squirm in his seat when he read over it. Except that "Deadpool" didn't feel right either so he deleted it after a short pause of thought and replaced, "Deadpool," with "Wade."

Wade.

He murmured the name out loud. It seemed the most neutral option, even if it made him feel a little skip of giddiness in his chest. On impulse, Peter added a happy little emoticon to the end.

"Wade :)"

Peter smiled his own little secret smile back down at it.

The bus bumped over a pot hole in the road and Peter was jostled back into reality. He realized what he was doing with a hot flush and quickly flipped the phone around in his palm and pressed the screen into the top of his thigh.

Would it be too weird to text Wade right away? He didn't want it to seem like he was too eager to talk with the Alpha. Wasn't there some stupid rule about waiting so and so days? He had never asked for anyone's number before so he didn't really know how these types of things worked, he only had cheesey rom-coms to go by. But honestly, if that really was some rule, it just seemed kind of rude in his opinion. Not that that rule should apply to him though, that was for dating, right? This wasn't dating. Yet. Wade's working anyways. Would he even look at his phone?

What if he didn't reply.

Peter knew he'd end up craving sooner or later. So did it even really matter then?

"Hey. This is Peter."

He shot it off quickly before he could over think it and than he immediately over thought it and rushed to add,

"Just so you have my number..." Nervousness suddenly overcame him in a way he never knew, was it suppose to be this nauseating? It had him stuffing the phone back the hoodie pocket just so he didn't have to see if Wade answered back right away. He had to force himself to not pull it right back out.

Even as Peter got off the bus, he was itching to check it. He wouldn't though. If he didn't look then he didn't know and he wouldn't have to deal with it.

Besides, he needed to focus on getting his laptop back.

Notes:

Peter is hopeless.

Chapter 8 Notes:

Hello, it's me.
Unbetaimakemistakesillprobablyfindlaterbutidgaf:)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

' hey there peter ;) '

How did three simple words and a emoticon sound so suggestive?

Peter didn't brake his resolve to not check his phone for new messages however, he did need to check the gps tracker and it just so happen to be that he had a new text notification when he pulled it out to do so. He didn't even need to open it to see what it said.

'hey there peter ;) '

The smiley face winked up at him as he stared dumbly down at it. Again, was he crazy or did that sound really suggestive? Because Peter could clearly hear the exact tone Wade would say it in. He could even imagine Wade saying it, appearing behind him like he had earlier that day, leaning over his shoulder with his hot breath in one ear. His mask would be rolled over nose, Peter's imagination supplied him a cut jawline, a pointed chin, and plush pink lips puffing hot steamy breath that would surely send shivers all over when they popped around his name.

Oh yeah, no. It was him, he was definitely crazy.

Forcibly derailing his demented horny brain off the Wade train and getting back on track, Peter swiped away the notification (out of sight, out of mind) and checked the tracking app. He was already standing outside the dump of a building he had gotten kicked out of earlier that day. He just wanted to make sure it wasn't hitting anywhere around the outside perimeter first before going in.

Peter enhanced the pinpoint on the location and watched the screen zoom in, showing a satellite image of the city block, then with a blur, one of street view and even closer again it went from a real world imagine to a 3D blueprint layout of the address. The tracker bliped and registered on the fourth floor, for a second Peter thought it was going to be back in his apartment but pinching the screen and zooming in for the last time it showed itself pinging next door to it.

Peter blinked, stumped for a second. His neighbor, ex neighbor? What was his name? Something like Jack? Maybe Zack. Peter had only ever seen him in passing with the occasional polite greeting, besides the one time he accidentally wore his lab coat home that they actually stroked up a conversation together. He seemed like a decent guy if not some what awkward, maybe even more awkward than Peter was himself but extremely nice. Like, really nice. Maybe he had just seen it in the trash when he was walking by and innocently picked it up? That could be the best case scenario to happen.

With his spirit feeling a little lifted, Peter used the key he still had for the building to let himself in, he took the old musty smelling stairway up to the fourth floor and walked passed his old door, eviction notice still scotched taped to it's chipped paint surface. He pulled his phone out again, just to be absolutely sure he was right. When it checked out he closed off the app to his save his rapidly dieing battery's life. Then he casually opened Wade's chat log and ignored the way his heart got all jittery. Nobody would know right? That he wasn't suppose to. It's not like he was doing anything bad.

"Hi."

He sent it and quickly read over the tiny conversation only to stare at his last reply. He totally sounded like a complete dodo bird saying 'hi', twice. He need to add something better to round it out.

"Thanks again for the hoodie."

He read it over again and patted himself on the back for the save. Feeling satisfied with it, he slipped the phone back into his pocket. Maybe he should have added his own smiley. Or was that saying too much? He said he wasn't and maybe he shouldn't have. But it's just texting, right? Peter reasoned he could moniter himself better than when he was face to face with Wade. No harm in it, it's just texting, he justified.

Settling his own mental debatical, Peter returned his focus to the neighbors door in front of him. He leaned one ear in closer. He could hear somebody shuffling around inside. Peter knocked with a good three solid thuds before honing in his hearing again. He heard the person inside spook, a slight jump, a thud and then the shuffling ceased into silence. Peter waited another moment before he rolled his eyes so far back into his head even his back dipped. He let out a huge inconvenienced sigh. When the door didn't open still, Peter forcefully but politely, knocked one more time and again, was ignored for a second time.

So the guy was trying to play the "nobody's home, go away game." Peter knew this game pretty well because he's played it too and he suddenly knew what his landlady must feel like. He secretly promised to himself that he'd always pay his rent on time from now on, whenever he had rent again that is.

Peter knocked a little harder this time and maybe it was even politely.

"You in there, Zack? It's me, Peter Parker."

A second of silence and then were was fumbling, a soft crash and quickly moving heavy footstep rushing to the door, a chinking of chain and the clicking of a couple of lockes. There was a flip of a deadbolt and the door was opening fast with whiney hinges and then flying into a dead stop. Opened just enough for his neighbor's face to fit through the space. Peter was caught off guard to see him glaring.

"My name is Max." He practically spat at Peter.

Peter jerked back in surprise.

"Oh yeah, right!" Peter tried his best to laugh it off with one of his awkward and nervous yet endearing chuckles. He was pretty close with the name though. "That's what I said, you uh- must of misheard through the door."

"We've been neighbors for two years!" Max grumbled. "You should know my name!"

That was true, but Peter barely ever even saw the guy, still he tried to be diplomatic to make this thing go smoothly. He wasn't up for anymore excitement today.

"I remember Max, I do! You were a great neighbor."

Max relaxed a little but didn't let up on the door, blocking the view oof the interior with his body. Peter watched him scent the air and Max's eyes narrowed in on his chest.

"What's that smell? Who is that?"

Peter jerked, "Huh?!"

"Who's sweater is that?!" Max grilled him and eyes searching him. Peter's face scrunched up, not liking where this was suddenly going.

"Why? It's a friends."

"You don't have friends."

"I do too have friends." Peter shot back. Which wasn't exactly true. While he didn't have any one close enough to be consider friend, Peter had plenty of good acquaintances.

"No," Max objected, shaking his head. "You're like me."

Peter could have definitely argued with that but he wasn't here to talk about his social life with some guy he barely knew. "Anyways, Max." He made sure to punctuate the use of Beta's name, "I think you have something of mine. Maybe you picked it up out of the garbage? Earlier today? Max? A laptop?"

Max was shaking his head in denial before Peter could even finish talking.

"Nope. Not me. I didn't pick up nothing."

"C'mon Max," Peter exasperated tiredly, not wanting to play this game. "Buddy-"

For some reason the careless use of the nickname made Max light up like a light bulb. Peter noted the bizarre effect and watched the man right out of his defensive hunch and take his face away from the door, he suddenly looked more interested in Peter.

"I know it's in your apartment," Peter continued trying to use his most gentle and good natured voice. "I have a tracker on it. I'm not mad about it. Just give it back, okay? Pretty please? Be a pal?"

Peter tried his best to sound pathetic and watched Max for what was going to happen next. He look like he couldn't decide what to do with himself. Max' eyes went from evaluating optimistism to glaring at Peter's feet and then sweeping up his frame and meeting his eyes again. They locked gaze's for a second and Peter saw the sudden determinated look in his neighbor's eye and knew what was going to happen.

As Max went to slam the door, Peter's hand shot out and caught it with room to spare his fingers from getting crunched in the frame.

With next to nothing of his strength, Peter pushed back the door. Easily forcing Max to stumble and fall back. The Beta cried out and cursed as he hurried to collect himself together and Peter stepped inside. He's had a particularly stressful day today and he didn't need any more of this bologna.

Looking around, Peter stalled. Number one, why was Max' apartment twice as big and as nice as the one Peter was in before? And secondly. Why was one entire side of the living room wall covered in Spider-Man? Everything Spider-Man from pictures, print offs and news papers, magazine clipping and random merch. Peter felt himself deflate and he stared agaped in shock.

He'd gotten use to seeing little kids wearing Spider-Man masks and spotting the odd t-shirt here or there but this just went too far for him. Shocked turned into horror when he spotted Polaroid pictures of himself. As Peter, actually Peter Peter. Very candid pictures that he definitely didn't pose for.

He suddenly felt distraught knowing someone could catch him off guard like that.

"Get out! GET OUT!" Max stomped his foot and yelled, looking every bit like an over grown two year old throwing a fit. He threw arms out like he was trying to hide what Peter's already seen, " I don't have your stupid computer!"

Except it was right there on the man's coffee table, out in the open, in the middle of the room. Sitting open with the "y" shaped crack in the screen that Peter recognized immediately.

"My stupid computer is right there!" He jabbed a finger toward it caught in the moment. "And what the hell is that?! Why do you have pictures of me!"

Max' whole body tensed up with a giant sharp inhale of breath and he held it in his chest until his face started to turn red and he shook.

"I know you're Spider-Man!!" He shouted out, rushing the words like he was bursting at the seams with them.

Peter blinked.

"Are you kidding me?!" He yelled back, honestly surprised at himself. Weirdly, he didn't feel the shock of it. His heart didn't palpitate, the world didn't end. Peter always imagined it would be terrifing to be accused of being Spider-Man but it seemed like something tiny and inconsequential right now.
Besides, it's not like he had anything left to lose now. It was just easier to operate anonymously.

"I've seen you!" Max accused, pointing his finger straight at him. "You're my neighbor, you don't think I wasn't watching you?!"

"Okay wow!... Listen here. That's really super creepy of you and in fact, a huge invasion of my privacy!! You can't just watch people and take their photos, Max!"

"But you know me! " Max beseeched, both hands clutched at his chest like he was resisting reaching out to the Omega.

Peter held back his retort. Instead he took a deep, calming, chest heaving breath. Wade's scent filled his nose and eased him. In with the good, out with the bad. He wasn't having the greatest day ever, and his mood was souring the longer he was having to deal with his old neighbor. But he wasn't going to take it out on him. He had no idea how this guy came to the conclusion that they had some sort of connection together in his head but, Peter knew Max was a little on the weird side and he was probably lonely. Peter can relate to those kind of things.

The Omega turned his back on Max and collected his laptop from the table and replied, "I don't know what you're talking about, Max. How about we just forget about this whole thing."

Max stepped closer to Peter's turned back and Peter felt the begining tingelings of his warning sensors creep to life. He straightened up quickly and turned around with laptop under arm. He wearily assessed Max, who under any other circ*mstances would never be a blip on Peter's radar. Max followed his first step with the other foot. Peter could hear his elevated heart pounding in his chest.

"Max..." He warned slowly.

"I wasn't sure at first." The other man's voice came out just above a whisper, like he was keeping up the secret between the two of them and nobody else could possibly hear it, "But I know, it's you."

"It's not." Peter insisted, dropping his own voice and stepping around Max, but not taking his eyes off him and stepping backward towards the door. "You're wrong."

"It's okay." Max swayed after him. "We're the same. I understand you. I know who you are. You don't have to hide with me. We could be friends, best of friends."

"Peter, I can help you." Max pleaded after him.

"Sorry Max, but you have a really strange way of making friends. And you don't know me, okay? I don't know you, I'm not Spider-Man. In fact,"

He stopped before the door. "I should call him on you. He's my friend, you know? If you've been watching me you know that, right? Sometimes, he hangs out at my place, that's probably what you've seen. You're lucky I dont call the cops on you, Max! That's not cool."

"Please." Max' chin wobbled. "Don't you remember? You saved me, you said you needed me."

Peter can blame his too soft heart, when Max's pleading starts to get around his bad mood and through his thin armour. He honestly doesn't remember if he's ever had an interaction with Max as Spider-Man. And as Spider-Man, he never wants to let anyone down. He can't help but feel a bad about it if it's true. He's helped more people than he can remember. Sometimes his encounters only last for the hand full of seconds it takes for him to get out one of his one liners and then he's web slinging off to the next problem. He never thought he could have such a effect on someone, it's scary.

"I'm sorry Max," Peter sighed, "it's not me. But I'll uh, I'll let Spider-Man know you're a huge fan, okay? Maybe he'll swing by. Who knows."

Peter paused just before leaving, happening to look down at his feet and spying the old police scanner that had also been missing from his things. It laid on it's back like it was dropped just inside the door as a second thought. It probably didn't look good for his, "I'm not Spider-Man," image to own something like that. Still, he scooped it up and pointed a warning finger at Max, who looked every much liked Peter had just crushed all his dreams.

With the click of the door closing shut, Peter's shoulders slumped and chest deflated with relief. He didn't pause though, he went straight for the roof access door with is backpack over his shoulders, laptop under his arm and police scanner clutched in one hand. He used the free hand to brute force the door handle past it's simple lock, breaking it. Usually he would feel bad about property damage but all he really wants to do is get far away from here as soon as possible.

A gust of cool air rushes him as he opens the door, ruffling his hair and pinking his slightly fevered cheeks. Outside the rain had let up, only a few dip drops still pitter patter across the roof top. It felt so much better and Peter knew he needed to get into his suit fast.

But first, he pulled out his phone to check the time and to see if Wade had said anything back yet. The sight of the notification he got was like a little shot of dopamine feel goodness. Enough from him to momentarily forget what just happened down stairs.

"np bb ;)"

The screen reads.

"u wearing it now?"

The corners of Peter lips started to turn up as he read. He tugged absently at the collar of the hoodie, bringing it up to hide his smile and possibly suffocate any amused huff of air escaping from him. Wade's scent comforted him. He knew if he replied, the Alpha would probably come back at him with some flirt. Which he wouldn't be mad about.

So he shot off a quick 'yes' and slipped his phone back away before anything else.

"What's next?" his brain supplied, dutifully not letting Peter get back on the Wade train quite yet.

Nothing, Peter hoped but he knew he needed to figure out what he was going to do next.

At least he knew it couldn't get any worse...

He probably shouldn't jinx himself like that.

Notes:

I decided to use Electro based off Amazing Spider-Man 2 because I didn't want to have too many OC's in this fic but I wanted Peter to have a stalker creepy guy and I felt I could twist him to my own use. Obvs, Max doesn't have his power yet but he will be seen again.
...Spider-Man might meet Deadpool in the next chapter.
Update 7/7/20: I'm not abandoning this! I'm just taking a break because I'm fooling around in other fandoms right now but I'm definitely coming back to this, no worries ya'll

Chapter 9 Notes:

No beta

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

'Wut else r u wearing?'

Called it. It's a classic cheesey pickup so over used that it wasn't even funny anymore, if it ever was.

Except, it was still tugging smile out of Peter.

Wade was exactly the type of person who had audacity to be that lame. And maybe Peter was just as lame because he was laughing at it. But he liked that about Wade. He was playful and he liked to tease. It made Peter feel like he was getting his pigtails pulled on the playground and he was finding himself, not really minding it. No, he actually liked it.

"exactly what you just saw me in."

He sent back with voice activation system in his mask that was synced to his nearly out dated phone. It wasn't very clever reply and it at all wasn't true, but there was no way Wade's lie detecting skills could pick up on that . He almost considered wearing the hoodie over top of his suit, like he actually stood there on the roof top, half dressed and stalled with the hoodie in both hands, debating.

Thankfully, logic won out in the end. Sometimes Peter had the foresight not to do something stupid like that. He just folded it up gently and tucked it into the last remain space of his backpack.

Which he ended up having to ditch not much later with his other belongings on another secure rooftop. He could compensate and correct his swings with the load on his back but simply, it just kept getting in the way when he was trying to take care of business.

Whenever Peter gets a new text message it set of a little chiming sound in his ear. He kept anticipating one, waiting for Wade to return his text as he swung along on one of his regular patrol routes. Waiting for his genius brain to come up with a solution to his homelessness or for something exciting to happen and soon enough Peter Parker shifts back wholly into Spider-Man and he forgets he was waiting for anything.

---

It didn't start till he was in the middle of saving an over the top, twelve layer, three tier wedding cake from eating the pavement because one of the bakery workers tripped on his own untied shoe lace.

Ding! The text alert chimed in to his ear.

Peter shot out a perfect weaving of webbing that caught the cake by its base, encasing it gently in a net.

Ding! Not a single candy pearl or buttercream rose out of place.

Ding! The bakery owner came running from the shops back alley door and Peter was already swinging away with a cheery salute.

"Ooo sassy"

"Sass me more"

"I have a sass kink"

The text scrolls up one after another, across the corner of the top of his left eye lense.

"I'm shaming your kink." Peter replies back immediately and was only slightly disappointed when he didn't receive one back just as quick and then feelinng just slightly dumb that he replied too eagerly.

He fell back into his groove after that, a sort of zone where it was just him chasing the high, the sound of the wind whistling by him, his shooters spitting out web, left, right, left. Arching his back and kicking his feet through the momentum. Faster and faster, car horns blare past, sweat trickled into his eyes, he took a corner too wide and caught himself running a along the side of a building to correct himself. The blood thumping in his ears. Peter pushed himself harder.

Stress wasn't good for omegas, it didn't manifest well. Peter could feel this shoulder muscles tightening with every thwip he threw, his stomach was cramping up and his lower back, there's a headache building around his temples and he was already starting to get hungry again, even though he scarfed down the rest of the lunch Wade had left him with.

'Ding!

"Finally!' Peter thought anxiously, eyes flying to the left corner.

"u r perfect"

Peter blew out a sigh of relief.

"my othr kink is getting shamed"

Which made Peter smile and a giddy feeling bloomed in his chest. He decided to wait before he replied this time, not wanting to make the same mistake as last time. But by the time Peter had chased down a pet co*ckatiel and returned it to it's owners and after receiving a few sharp bites from it and he reread texts, Wade had sent another other one asking him if he'd gotten his laptop back. Peter was surprised, Wade had been listening to his sheepish mutterings after all. He had remembered and cared enough to ask about it. Or at least he wanted to keep the conversation going with Peter.

Peter didn't waste time replying with a simple 'yep!' with no further detail on what happened with Max and followed it up with asking Wade about the little teleporting scene back at the Pick and Pull.

"i knew that wld get ur nerd boner going."

Wade replied back in under a minute and Peter didn't wait this time.

After that there was back and forth conversation, Peter forgot that he wasn't suppose to be holding back. But Peter's oldass phone couldn't hold a charge for more than few hours of constant use and dies before Peter is ready to stop talking. He mopes about it but there's nothing he can do right now.

He decided take a break from patrolling than and swings by Pizza Amigo because he can't even remember what day it is, let alone his own work schedule there, work with Doc was easy since his schedule never changed with him. Peter asked his boss Julio if he can pick up any extra shifts and the alpha manager tells him he'll let him know of anybody calls out but even he knows Peter isn't the always the best attendence himself. Peter is grateful though and he really enjoys working there part time.

They think he used their electric delivery bikes to get around, but in reality Peter just wheels it around the block and hides it somewhere safe until he returns back, doing all his deliveries via web slinging. He wonders if Weasle's asked for him lately... He sure could use the money.

As the sun starts to set, Peter goes back to collect his belongings off the rooftop he left them on and set out to look for a place to sleep. Last minute something came to mind.

It was on the border of Chinatown that Peter found it. It was actually something he was already conscious of because of a little dumb game Ned and him use to play, something along the lines of, "if I was a hobo, I'd live there." And of course, Peter still played it sometimes, when he spotted a particular stacked pile of wooden pallets outside a restaurant, a nicely secluded patch of nature with fluffy bushes or a box van that hadn't moved in years. Or, an abandon building.

He first noticed it because the architecture had caught his eye. It had bright red paint and teal trim that would have popped if it wasn't so lack lustered after all the years of neglect and the chipping away paint, the pagoda style roof had a few missing tiles here and there, but the oriental accents molded into the stone were still impressively pristine. All it needed was dragons protecting each of the four corners.

In it's prime it was probably the most beautiful building on the block. Now the building was taped off with caution tape, that had long been snapped apart and drifted aloft in the wind. The bottom windows were bordered up and tagged in old drippy spray paint. There was a weathered official notice on the door. A scaffolding all up on side. A sixteen wheeler truck had plowed through the cornerstone of it. Undoubtedly, it's driver had been Snapped. The cab still sat buried into the bricks, though the trailers had long been removed. Black scorched marks marred the stones, reaching upwards where fire from the engine had licked the walls. Haven broken the foundation, the place was evacuated, condemned and sat still, waiting for it's reconstruction.

Peter didn't know what was inside. But up close he guessed by the side balcony's he was looking at a residental place. Which was absolutely perfect. He only had to make sure it was secure.

He scouted around the outer the bottom and when he was satisfied that was there was no way through the ground level, Peter zipped up near to the top, he picked out a smaller, frosted glass window, typical of the ones bathroom have and it just happened to be cracked open. There was some luck on his side after all. It was big enough to easily fit through but it did require him to struggle and maneuver his backpack off and drag the rest of his belongings in behind him.

When he finally dropped down inside, the only sound in the place was his toes tap landing onto the black and white checkered linoleum floor. It was hardly noticeable but there was a whole tilt to everything, definitely due to the unstable foundation. Not that it mattered to Peter, with sticky feet any direction can be up right to him.

Scouting his new surroundings, Peter noted the outdated tub with the shower curtain pulled back, a used rumpled towel hanging over the side of it. The porclien sink had two toothbrushes and a cracked bar of soap on it's counter. The mirror above it was foggy with years of dust.

Peter reached out and tried the cold faucet just because. The knob squeeled and protested with disuse. He twisted it until the spout sputtered out rusty brown water that cleared away after a moment of running. He was a little surprised the plumbing was still working.

It wasn't a surprise when the lights didn't flicker on as he tried the switch on the way out.

Pushing past the bathroon door Peter entered into a short hall, framed pictures on the wall, an inspiration qoute in loopy cursive that read "Bless this mess". Down the left, it opened into a modestly, spacious living room/dining kitchen combo and at the other end, a dusty bookcase filled memorabilia and knick knacks. Two doors on the left and one on the right.

Peter walked into the main room first. All the house plants were dried and dead. Shoes lined up by the the front door, placemats and old mail sat on the dining table.

Peter stepped into the kitchenette and opened up the first cupboard closest to him. It was filled with spices and cooking oils and nothing of much interest. He doesn't know what possesses him to open the fridge next.

There's instant regret as he immediately slams it back shut in fear of the nuclear spore cloud of mold that released into the air from the disturbing the self sustaining ecosystem growing inside.

An uneasiness settled over Peter as he continued to explore, he didn't quite feel right being here. The place was eerily quite, like stepping in a museum. Nobody had set foot here in five years. Everything was covered in a layer of velveteen dust. The air smelled stagnant and stale. Only Peter's footsteps and thoughts are incredibly loud as he traveled back down the hall, the first door on the left was a office and the door to the right was a linen closest packed with sheets, towels, filled plastic storage tubs.

The last door lead to the bedroom, a tv balanced on a too small dresser and a queen size bed took up most of the space. Peter let his backpack slip from his shoulders, catching it with his hand before it hit the floor for a softer landing. He dragged his fingers across the foot of the bed as he passed, it's just slightly unmade, still looking the way it did when it's owner woke up on their last day.

Peter stopped at the curtain covered window and peaked outside. Nothing but building tops and the western sky gradiating from the east as the sun set, only illuminating through the passing storm. A sherbet swirl of orange, pink and purples behind the shadows of clouds.

He felt unmoored. Staring out a window that isn't his, looking at a skyline he doesn't recognize.

He flopped backward on to the bed using all his weight and let his eyes fall shut with a never ending tiredness.There's a relief though, that this place will work for now, it's a small weight lifted off his mind. He can stay here until he figures out his next residents.

The bed is too soft and there's a stale scent of alpha and beta that lingered from it.

He felt wrong being here, like he's being disrespectful to the memory of couple who lived here before. Silently he apologized to former ghost of the residents and thanked them for letting him stay here.

Peter wills himself not to cry suddenly. Thinking about the lives of the ones who where here before. About everything that happened today.

He couldn't stop thinking though. One thought leading into the next, of Max. He feels bad for the guy, seemed like he only wanted a friend, definitely not the way to do it but somehow, Peter feels a guilty about it, like maybe some part of it was his fault. He'll probably never see him again though, at least as Peter. Then again he can't decide if a visit from Spider-Man would relieve of the situation any or only encourage it. In the end he knows he'll have to go see Max again. He can't have a clear conscience unless he does.

Peter thinks about Wade and how it's only been single day, a single day! and he's so easily being swayed by him.

He wants too see him again. He feels pathetic because he does. He doesn't have an excuse.

He wants to keep seeing Wade until he can confirm who exactly the Alpha is and exactly what Peter is going to do about it. He thinks about what Jerry said that morning. Thinks about Wade. Wade is fun, Wade made Peter smile, it could be just the imprint speaking but Peter felt like he hadn't had fun since before the Snap. Sure, he could have a good time sometimes and he was always passionate about his work with Doc and he got along and could laugh with the guys at Pizza Amigo and everybody at F.E.A.S.T. was great but there was always a distant between himself and the rest of the world. There was a wall built between him and everyone else.

It felt like Wade had suddenly showed up in a Trojan horse, except he already knew what the trick was and Peter felt himself wanting to lower the gates to let him in anyways.

Constantly, he kept reminding himself not too just yet. Don't let the imprint win.

Peter fell asleep before he knew it.

-------

His spider sense woke him first, then the foundtion trembling and the sound of distance booming dragged him into awareness. His groggy, sleep drunk brain struggled to keep up. What was that? And where was he?

With blurried eyes and a sweeping glance of the room, the world suddenly came back to Peter and he jumped to his feet, immediately alert.

It only took a second to throw open the window and slip out.

He raced the emergency sirens, it wasn't hard to figure out where the incident was. The black billowing smoke in the night sky, only visable through the dewy glow of city lights was a dead gave away.

As he swung up on the sight, he saw a barbed wire fenced off property, a complex of large hangar's or warehouse type garages, and two of them had the roofs blow off. There was a burnt, sweet chemical smell in that blew through the air and Deadpool's laugh and elated voice carried on the wind.

"Oh my GOD! I can't believe it worked! How much TNT was that?!"

Of course it was Deadpool.

How did Peter already know that he was going to run into the Merc again so soon? He'd be happier about it if he was meeting with Wade again and not Deadpool. He had to steel his resolution as he circled the scene, taking in the fire, the collapsing roof, the yelling, the scattering of men scrambling around the grounds and Deadpool, sitting with his legs dangling off the side of roof top of a near by portable.

Not knowing the exact status of situation, Peter's safest bet was going for the most likely guilty suspect first. He whipped himself at the Alpha, trying to catch the Merc off guard by putting him into a compromising position and showing some dominance. Peter landed over him. Both feet on either side of him, nearly strandedly the larger man but no part of them was touching, besides Peter's fists, that where gripped around the leather holster straps that ran under Alpha's shoulders.

Peter growled, "Did you do this?!"

It was completely unnatural for him but Peter was good at putting on an alpha front when facing an enemy. He'd done it often enough that he'd like to think he could be pretty intimidating despite his size. People always expected Spider-Man to be an alpha so it was easy to play into it and put on a show. He doesn't know what they would do if they, and by they, he means every single crazy psycho who has some personal god-know-why vendetta against Spider-Man, if they ever found out he was an omega, well, Peter didn't like to think about it.

Wade doesn't give him the mouthy answer he was expecting right away and he doesn't seem at all that surprised to see him, and he definitely isn't phazed by his tough guy act. The Merc only draws his head back and Peter thought for sure he was about to receive a headbutt but,

Instead he was smooched.

Literally smooched, like when Aunt May wanted to embarrass him in public and would plant a big, huge wet one, full lipped contact to really shmear that red lipstick across on his cheek.

But on his mouth. Masked mouth to masked mouth. He could feel the hot puff of Wade's breath on his lips as they parted. The Alpha scent, filled his nose with the close proximity as Peter gasped back in surprise and those nerves he tried to steel before, quaked. There's a pregnant silence that follows as they part, Peter from shock and Deadpool, gleefully waiting for a reaction.

When the merc doesn't get what he was waiting for straight away, he apparently decided to try a different tactic and Peter feels a solid and large palmed hands cupping and squeezing at his butt.

"There's alot of things I can do." Wade purrs suggestively at him, fingering really digging into the meat of his ass and parting his cheeks.

Peter heart jumps in his chest and he moves like lighting for his own self preservation. He flips straight up, using the larger man's shoulders as a spring board, spinning in the air, over the merc's head and planting his feet into the wide expanse of Deadpool's back.

Peter snakes his arms around the alpha's neck and squeezes as he's trying not to panic under his mask. Mostly because he liked it. And he almost didn't do anything to stop Wade from doing more. Not to mention getting a boner right now was a very, very bad idea.

While he tried to gain his professional hero facade back, Deadpool flailed his arms and made dramatic choking sounds while laughing in between, he slapped open palms into the forearms that bound him, tapping out like a WWE wrestler. Peter didn't let up and squeezed a little tighter because he didn't know what was going to happen if he let go.

Deadpool was crying something about chokeholds being illegal and that he was only trying to use the traditional greeting of Canadian tongue hugging.

"What are you doing here," Peter demanded instead, ignoring Wade's cries and going straight to business. He needed to strictly be on Spider-Man duty right now.

He didn't let up on his hold and Wade doesn't do anything to try and push him off, instead the man leans back into him and Peter feels more like he's spooning the Alpha than holding him hostage.

"I'm just working on my friendly neighborhood Deadpool game!" Wade happily chirps.

"This is my neighborhood," Peter growled back, squeezing more for emphasis but not actually cutting off the merc airway, just warning him.

"No dispute about that! I just wanna be your neighbor!"

"My neighbor?" Peter questioned back, definitely not sounding confused at all.

"Knew I should have worn the cardigan..."

Peter pulled back a little hesitant, both reluctant to let him go and wanting to distance himself for his own control.

Was that Wade's way of saying he wanted to get along? That's when he noticed the chunk burned out of the mercenary's mask, the bottom half of his ear lobe, the hinge of his jaw and a span of his neck, all burned, blistering and scaring over. Peter could visiblely see it healing and he winced to himself at how painful that must be and he was just trying to squeeze the life out of him from there.

Wade doesn't even seem to notice but it explains why the man's scent was so strong, he obviously didn't wear any type of diffuser or scent cover up. Peter's mouth waters.

"Sorry... You're hurt." He ends up murmuring, more to himself mostly but he still means it none the less.

Wade stills and blinks up at him, like he's surprised to hear it and then his hands fly together and clutch at his chest, over his heart and Peter is sure there are glistening, sparkles in his eyes.

"So wholesome! Spider-Man is worried about me."

Wade turned his head and squeeled to himself much in the same way Peter's seen preteen girls do when they get over excited and then just as fast as he turned away, Wade was whipping back, coming face to face with him, "maybe a little kiss will make it better, hmm?" The alpha's voice dropped into something more provocative and with a playful hum as he lifted his chin up and tilted his head to the side, barring his exposed and scaring neck.

There's an automatic psychical reaction in Peter's mouth to Wade's offer. He's starts salivating like there's a four course feast in front of him and his omegan canines pulse and ache at the gums with the uncontrollable, prima need to bite.

He clenches his jaw instead. A whine curls up in his chest as he denied the urge and he doesn't allow that either.

Peter doesn't know any alpha that would make himself vulnerable to an omega like that. Of course, Deadpool doesn't know Spider-Man is an omega. His spider suit is fully breathable but it's also completely scent nulling. Spider-Man doesn't smell like anything but maybe blue raspberry slushee syrup and F.E.A.S.T. Center ocean breezey laundry detergent.

While Peter is battling with himself, Wade started blabbing about something else, completely unphased by anything. Peter's not listening because he's trying to not burrying his face in that crook of neck and shoulder and inhale and rub as much of that smell as he can all over himself. A mix of feeling creep through him, flirting was uncharted territory to him, too scared of himself to come back with anything and even more hesitate because Wade was flirting with Spider-Man and not Peter. Did that mean Peter wasn't anything special and anybody would do?

Snapping himself back into reality, Peter pushed Wade forward as he spider senses flared hot, the alpha folded in half, his face to his own knees as a batalian of bullets whized by them. Guess those warehouse workers aren't so happy right now and Wade is giggling about skipping to third base.

Peter ignored him as he watches the scars on Wade subtlely shift, he must have gotten burned from the explosion but it looks like he isn't done healing still. Peter can't forget how he watched Wade be completely unfazed from being shot. Wade is really amazing, Wade is still jabbering as Peter lets him up.

"-Think about it Webhead! You and me- a devasting dynamic dou, fighting crime, kicking names, taking ass!"

"You've done enough," He cut in, finally getting over himself, he's still mad at him for causing a mess. but did he hear that right? Deadpool wanted to team up? "I'll clean this up myself."

"God! It's so hot how you take control like that."

Peter grinds his molars together, just a little irratated, nope, just because Wade was flirting him. Flirting with Spider-Man, that is and not with Peter, they're the same person. It's fine. Sometimes he forgets that. It isn't a problem. He needs to stop. He still doesn't know what the situation here is.

"Tell me what's going on here."

"Oh, let me tell you, Webs! I caught these sh*t swizzlers earlier to today, tryin to sell doped up, ripped off designer drugs to middle schoolers, little kiddies! You think I would allow that?"

They both part, dodging another round of shots, he needs to be quick before his gets worse. Peter is really glad to know that Wade doesn't allow that and he's actually really relieved that Deadpool isn't the bad guy here.

"That's... great, really. But you can't solve every problem with explosions!" he widely gestered to the flames and smoke.

"Okay, so I went a little overboard but shoot me for being enthusiastic about my job! Oh, but I promise I can be good boy," Wade's swear like a boy scout. "I can be so good for you."

Peter is running out of time as more men start to swarm the yard below them. He counts the men on the ground, there's a lot of them. Nothing he can't handle but it would be a ton of work by himself and Wade is looking at him like a dog waiting for a bone.

"Prove yourself." Peter says it like he needs it, like he was begging for it. And he did need Deadpool to prove himself, in more ways than one, he wanted desperately to believe that Wade wasn't a bad guy, that this whole thing could work out. He couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Yes! ANYTHING!" Maybe Deadpool didn't notice Peter's tone, maybe he did but he sounded just as eager as Peter felt.

"Nothing lethal. No more explosions. No killing."

"Cross my heart, hope to die, I won't explode or unalive." Wade motions along with his little silly poem, marking an 'x' over his chest and without waiting for more, drops off the roof.

Peter's lip twitch like they wants to smile and he follows after him.

Notes:

Watch out new readers, I'm inconsistent. :)
I rushed a lot of this so idk if this any good. I'm horrible at the texting bits, whatever idc I just wanted to move on from this chapter cause I've been sitting on it for months
I was looking over my original chapter layout for the fic from when I first started and I laugh when I saw chapter five was suppose to be Peter's heat and here we going into chapter ten so haha I'm anticipating this fic to be twice as long as originally planned? Jfc, sorry guys haha.

Chapter 10 Notes:

This is actually the tail end of the last chapter I cut off so I could post quicker

Chapter Text

They team work. Fuildly, it wasn't that tough of a fight, it's more about their numbers than their strength. At first they had started off doing their own thing, with Wade taking on the left flank and Peter following up on the right. But within the first few minutes Wade had been shot no less than three times and Peter couldn't do it. Every time a gun went off his head was whipping around to make sure Wade was okay. In the back of his head he knew, from some very first hand experience, that the merc could roll with the bullets but Peter couldn't stand the smell of Wade's blood in the air. He couldn't stand letting his Alpha get hurt and he knew it had to hurt no matter how little of a deal the older man made it out to be.

So Peter switched his priorities to snipe every gun out of the enemies hands one by one with his webs and Wade followed in suit, quickly getting the idea and going after each unarmed man, knocking them down and out and leaving the tieing up and restraining to Peter.

The omega's heart was racing with excitement at how well it was going. It's always been something of a dream to have a super hero team up, he just thought it would never happen after the Snap. Wade was kicking butt, taking down one after another. He was definitely using some of that excessive force but so far he'd listened to Peter and hadn't touched the two guns that were strapped to his body or cut anybody's head off with those samurai swords.

Even though he's thrilled, Peter just couldn't keep concentrated. His eyes kept drifting back to Wade in between his blows and dodges. Worried thoughts racing between needing to know his Alpha was okay and making sure Deadpool didn't break his promise by taking it a step too far. His distractions had absolutely nothing to do with all those bulging muscles either, flexing with brute strength. It's definitely not hot the way Wade fights, completely relentless and confident in his moves. And if Peter happened to catch Wade looking over in his direction, then it was completely by accident that Peter flexed off his buns or tightened his abs a little.

Between all that and his raging hormones, Peter could almost get turned on by watching Wade fight, his omega was drooling for it. But that was only a fleeting thought because he's immediately turned off when Deadpool punches a goon so hard in the gut he pukes up his dinner.

Peter had to looked away while Wade cackled and shoved the man's face into the mess on the ground crying, "Oh my God! What did you eat!? Are those carrots?!"

Seemingly half way through and just when Peter's really getting into the grove of things, finding his focus, he hears a "heads up, Webs!" as his spider sense tickles down his nerves. When he looks back over his shoulder, he sees Wade, full body throwing a man over his head at him. Peter automatically webshoots the flailing guy midair, capturing him in a sticky cacoon and watches him fall to the ground in a fruitless, struggling lump.

Some how that whole thing turns into a game.

Wade is catching the next's guy by the ankle as he's going for a high kick to the head and swinging the loaf around in the air like a sling shot, flinging him at Peter. Several more throws and captures and Peter's having more fun then he's had in the last five years. He even starts laughing when Wade finds out he can stick them all together. Face to ass, crotch to face, one of top of another.

Just when they think they're about done cleaning house, out of no where, the final boss arrives just like in a video game. The large alpha male makes a show of an entrance with comically large fists and long, oversized forearms that hang in front of him like a silver back gorilla.

"Whoaahoho!" Deadpool cheers over smashing two guys head together. "Somebody ate their spinach!"

"I got Popeye!" Peter called out, rushing at the new threat, swinging in and leaving the few spattering of men for Wade to clean up.

"Ohhh, Spidey's about to pop off on your ass!"

Peter smirks, feeling confident with Wade backing him. He wanted to show off. Wanted to show his Alpha what he's got. He toyed with gorilla man, letting him take some surprisingly fast swings that miss him by a mile as Peter bends and sways out of the way like some wacky, wavy inflatable flailing tube armed man in the wind, but with much more intentional precision and much less wackiness. He takes the huge alpha down by webbing his wrists together, and sliding in-between the alpha's bowed legs, pulling his arms along with him until he's falling face first with nothing to catch himself and knocking himself out. Peter hogs ties him up and he might have even used a recycled line, 'the bigger they are the harder they fall.' with no shame to his cheesiness.

It's almost perfect timing when Peter hears the emergency sirens closing in. Fashionably late as always. He's been anticipating them for a while now and he's not surprised that they took so long to scramble across the city to the scene that shook the half west side.

"C'mon, we gotta go!" Peter yells, running towards Wade, not even thinking twice about offering him his hand, ready to zip them out of there as the cop cars, EMT's and fire units start to pull up on the other side of the barded wired fencing.

"I thought you were all buddy-buddy with the law?" Wade grasps him by the wrist, completely encasing it with his fingers and trust. Peters own fingertips barely touch together as he grips back around Wade's, though his size doesn't equate to his strength and he pulls them out of there like the alpha weighs nothing.

"No!" Peter calls back over the wind as he swings them upwards, using Wade's extra weight like a pendulum to arch them straight up through the air. "I might follow the rules but those guys kinda hate me."

Wade whoops and laughs like kid on a carnival ride as they free fall onto the closest roof top, several stories above the scene below. "Rules for fools." He jeers as they seperate. Peter's focus flys to where Wade was touching him, missing his grip and warm heat of his palm. He shakes his hand out and ignores the feeling as looked back down over the edge.

He always gets a mischievous delight out of watching the police find out Spider-Man had undermined them again and beat them to their own job.

When he turns back to Wade, he feels the smile he didn't know he was wearing drop off his face. Wade isn't appreciating their handy work, in fact, he somehow has a rather mopey looking expression across his mask. His attention in down on the cellphone in his hand. Not the same brick of flip phone Peter saw earlier but one that looks super new with the huge screen and large camera on the back. Probably worth over a grand and only something Peter could dream of owning.

'Is he checking for texts?'

The sudden thought jumps into his mind and it spreads like hot honey through his chest. Was Wade thinking about him, thinking about Peter? Was he waiting to hear back from him and looking a bit disappointed that he hadn't? Was Peter being too presumptuous to think that? He could kick himself for having a piece of junk that dies way too quickly. God, he doesn't even have a way to charge it when he gets back even. No, Wade could be looking at anything. Don't get ahead of yourself, Parker.

He clears his throat and his thoughts. He's still Spider-Man and Wade is still Deadpool.

"Laws are there for a reason, Wadepool." Peter chokes over his name, smashing the two of them other like an idiot and left without a clue on how to save himself from that one. But the alpha doesn't appear to notice because his shoulders are slumped over the lit up screen for a second longer and then he's pocketing the phone back into his belt and like a flipped switch, is turning back into his usual self.

"Speak for yourself," Wade scoffs, looking down on him. (not in a condescending way but in an actual physical sense because Wade is that much taller than him.)"You're a walking contradiction, Webhead. Abiding by the law? Hasn't anyone told you that vigilantism a crime too."

The omega opens his mouth the shoot back a retort but comes up short. Wade isn't wrong. He's got him there.

Peter has to channel his best Uncle Ben engery to quickly hum back throughtly.

"It can be ones moral duty to disobey unjust laws...Besides, I'm not doing anything bad, I'm just trying to help out the little guys or in this case, cleaning up your mess." He points an accusing finger but he doesn't really put any heat into his words.

"Hehe," Wade snickered, "you said doody."

Peter snorted, amused against his will.

"You know," Wade starts up, Peter doesn't know but he's sure Wade is about to tell him.

"Those law makers, those politicians, the so-called "protectors" of the moral majority decided on what is right and what is wrong but they didn't decide on what the good is. We see proof in that everyday. Those men will be walking free out of this country's f*cked up judicial system by next week."

'then I'll catch them again,' Peter thinks, that's just job security and he's a little surprised that Wade can be actually serious about something.

"As for me!" Wade continues his rant, living up to his merc with the mouth nickname. " I dont work in exact boundaries of the law because I wasn't consulted when the goddamn laws were made! I govern my life around my own personal code of ethics. That way, if within the constructs of my own morality I were to do something that was considered illegal, so be it." He shrugs, "I feel no guilt whatsoever."

Wade isn't just babbling, he's actually making sense and everything he says sinks into him and Peter is starting to understand him even more. A better picture of his painting is becoming more clearer with every word. Wade wasn't a bad guy, he just selfishly takes things to an extreme. Peter wasn't on board with it though, he couldn't condone that. Maybe he could agree with certain points, Peter's almost feels the same as him but who was the alpha to be judge, jury and executioner over some one else's life, even if they were the worst of the worst.

But despite what the alpha had just said about following his own rules and code, he did just listen and follow along with Spider-Man's rules. Maybe there's more room for hope than he thought.

"And furthermore!" Wade jabs his finger into he air, still not done, "if I were to buckle under the social weight of the system by adhering to laws that I do not truly believe in, then I would be extinguishing the very fire of patriotism and individuality!"

Wade jumped up onto the legde of the building as he spoke, over looking the city and taking on a pose that straight up screamed Captain American with his chest puffed out and his hands on his hips theatrically. Then he was depuffing just as quick as he got amped up and spinning on his heels back towards Peter, dangerously close to wobbling off the edge of the building as he did so before he bunny hopped off, right into Peter's space.

"This was fun, wanna go break some more laws?"

Peter only takes a little step back, still thinking about it. He takes his time answering, staring into the grinning merc's masked face. Contemplating the strange and amazing man in front of him. He wants to have more of this conversation, wants to find out more about Wade, about what he really wants out of this team up. Except, Peter just doesn't have the same mental or physical engery to keep up with him right now.

From the white of his eyes, Peter scans over Wade's masked face, down to his neck where the exposed burn marks have shifted, still healing, he's guesses and then the few tattered bullet holes, scattered through the red leather.

Wade starts to fidget when he doesn't reply. He shifts from foot to foot and itches at his belly. Was he nervous? Peter didn't think the Alpha could be nervous, it doesn't seem to fit in with boastering loud mouth personality but there he is, looking a bit unsure and Peter wonders if that's because of him.

"Spidey?"

Peter doesn't even know what time it is, not like it really matters. The very seconded that he slowed down, letting the adrenaline rush leave his system, has the last 24 hours catching back up to him and the bone deep tiredness returns. Peter is used to the feeling, he pushes himself pasts his limits on the regular. It's just, when he looks at Wade and scents him from the short distance between them, he sighs. He wants to collapse in the larger man. It takes everything he has not too, he knows he can't. Not yet.

"Let's call it a night." His voice sounded more lack luster than he anticipated, missing that signature Spider-Man pep he's so used to putting on.

"Oh." Wade's whole being sags, "Yeah, okay..."

Wait, what just happened? Wade gave in way too easy. Peter expected to be goaded into going another round. He didn't expect Wade too look so disappointed. In fact it's so jarringly unexpected that it has him wanting to take it back right away and he knows that's just his omega begging him to please the alpha but he can't stand it!

"Tommorow night!" The words fly from his mouth before Wade can wilt any further and that feeling of needing to please is immediately relieved and washed away when Wade goes right back to looking bright eye and bushy tailed.

"It's a date!" The alpha cries out, grabbing and clutching both of Peter's hands into his own.

"No!! It's not a date!" Pete shoots him down and rips his hands away, cheeks flushing. He totally wants it to be a date. Wade doesn't seems phased by the rejection.

"Um, let's just... let's meet back here," Peter stutters with a slightly clearer head, not believing he's actually making plans to team up with Deadpool again, now he's the one feeling a little nervous. "Okay? Nine o'clock. Right here."

"Got it!" Deadpool pulls out a yellow notepad from his belt and red crayon, joting down as he speaks. "Nine o'clock, right here, Spidey date."

"Not a date!" Peter calls back more firm, already backing out of there and taking a swan dive off the edge. From the distance he hears Wade yelling,

"Hate to see you go, but DAMN, I love to watch you leave!"

Chapter 11 Chapter Text

Day two of imprinting.

If Peter kept a calendar he'd mark it off with a ominous red pen.

It began with him waking up hot, sticky, and stark naked, having shucked all his clothing off in his sleep and sleeping too hard to remember anything that he dreamed of. He was completely disoriented too, waking up in a bed that smelled all wrong and was too firm to be his own. It was only the tangling of his fingers in Aunt's hand crochet blanket and the smell of Wade's hoodie that grounded him back into his stark reality of his situation.

He was feeling worse than yesterday. Heavy and restless at the same time and so close to heat he didn't know if it would be safe to go out for the day. Normally, he could feeling it coming from over a week away, not mere days. No doubt it was being accelerated by the stupid imprint. Peter didn't have a choice about staying in though. He knew he couldn't just lay around and wait for it to happen, he was totally unprepared.

Still, He laid in bed longer, tossing and turning, rolling over onto his side, trying to judge the time of morning by how thr light shown through the curtains and then heaving a sigh and half a yawn, he flipped back over onto his back to stare at the ceiling, trying not to feel the dread of his pre-mid life crisis. He tried jerking off the semi he had, mostly because it was something to do without getting up and maybe he could get a some of that serotonin flowing and work out some of that restlessness but he only ended up more frustrated after trying for fourteen minutes and getting nowhere. Even shamelessly thinking about Wade's hands touching him instead of his own only made him feel empty with no satisfaction.

Eventually, he begrudgingly got up and found a washcloth in the hall's linen closet and wiped himself down with the too cold water from the bathroom sink before dousing himself in scent blocking deodorant and changing back into yesterdays clothes.

As he picked his old levi's from floor, a piece of unevenly folded paper fluttered out from one of the back pockets.

Curiously, he went to pick it up and was hit with an 'oh yeah' moment before his fingers even touched the paper.

The alpha man who stopped him yesterday at the Pick-n-Pull, the one who had offered him 'help' and handed him a flyer. Peter unfolded the piece and gave it a once over again, this time with more intent. He studied the small printed out map, recognizing the street names being in a more ritzy part of the city and hummed thoughtfully. He was definitely interested in checking out the organization, wondering if it really was on the up-and-up. He made a mental note to remember it later as he set the paper aside the dresser, no time to deal with it now.

When he was about to pull on Wade's hoodie, compulsively scenting it first, the smell was still just as strong though mixed more with his own scent now, he was struck with a thought. Being covered in Wade's smell was probably helping trigger his heat faster. He paused and considered the garment in his hands with scientific interest before dropping it back on to the bed. He wondered if possiblely another's scent would have any sort of adversed effect on him. It might a wacky theory but Peter thought to test it just the same as he turned to the bedroom closet and slid open roller door.

He flipped through the hangered clothing in quick succession, pausing as he came upon a wooley, high collared grandpa style sweater. He sniffed the cuff of it's sleeve tentatively.

It smelled like one of those vintage antique shops Aunt May use to drag him along to when he was little, maybe just from hanging unused for so long and then there was a hint of long faded earthy cologne and the undertone beneath that was the barely there scent of alpha.

Peter grunted and wrinkled his nose, disinterested as he threw the sleeve away from himself and abandoned the closet, deciding it wasn't worth it or just being completely biased as he shrugged into his own Alpha's too big hoodie instead. Feeling much better and comfortabled by the soft cotton fabric and the promising scent coming from it.

After getting ready for the the day's outing he headed to the F.E.A.S.T. Center in Chinatown. It's one he'd been to before on donation delivery runs, it was fairly similar too the one he frequented but in a much newer building, if only slightly smaller and not too far from where he was staying. He didn't web sling. Instead he traveled by the roof tops, only using the hood of the oversized sweatshirt to conceal his identity. Suiting up was too much work and Peter was lazy.

He started out still half asleep but soon he was running, leaping between buildings in stealth mode and when the distance was to great between roofs and across streets, he used his shooters but in the most low profile way possible and humming the Mission Impossible theme to himself. He was doing pretty good until he nearly rolled his ankle on the lazy landing he did as he dropped down into the back alley behind the Center.

Luckily for him, the place wasn't bustling yet, still just waking up themselves. Today's breakfast was egg biscuit sandwiches with sticky yellow cheese and a semi-sweet tangerine to compliment it. Peter sleepily sipped on paper cup coffee with four creams and sugars as he sat snuggly against the back wall of the cantina with his phone plugged into the one of the two outlets available. Keeping the hood up over his head in hopes that people would get the idea that he wanted to be left alone.

The zest of the tangerine filled the air as he ripped through it's rind. It's citrusy scent perking up his groggy senses. He ate quietly, the tangerine disappearing piece by piece and then the hot eggy biscuit goodness followed, chewed slowly, making sure to savor each bite as he waited for the battery of his phone to charge.

Wade's text were waiting him.

Wade :) @ 5:32pm:
Frm the heart of my bottom, i swear its tru!!

Wade :) @ 9:30pm: heyyyy
Wade :) @ 9:30pm: u good?

His stomach gave a funny little dip when he lead the last text. Was Wade was worried about him? Peter sucked on his bottom lip as he stared intently at the screen, rereading through their conversation from the day before. One of his fingers chased the last few biscut crumbs across the wax paper in hungry pursuit. His stomach wished for seconds as he licked away them away.

It seemed like fate that Wade had become intertwined in both sides of his life. He promised to meet him as Spider-Man later tonight, what where they going to do? He tried to imagine how it would go. His lower belly twisted with discomfort, threatening to cramp up and Peter wondered if he could even make it to the meetup before his heat.

He tried to daydream about what it would be like with Wade as his mate, being mundane and sickeningly sweet and domestic during the day then suiting up and going wild, fighting crime, kicking butt. It sounded so nice, it sounded like a dream. But Peter's too careful. He doesn't want to fall in love with just the idea of something. He doesn't knowWade. Why should some internal impluse choose for him. He's too nervous. Alpha's don't feel it the same way and Wade sure was flirty with Spider-Man last night. Peter doesn't want to get hurt. This whole imprinting thing was scary as hell and who is he kidding, there's no if's about it, it's only a when.

Peter @ 7:19am: I'm okay

He sent.

Peter @ 7:19am: my phone died

Peter @ 7:20am: sorry

He waited for ten seconds and when no reply came through he checked the voice mail Doctor Octavis left him in the early evening, telling him to call him back when he got the chance. Peter had doubts he would answer at this hour but then again sometimes the man never went to bed.

The phone rang six times and just when Peter thought the answering machine was going to pick up there was a click and the frenzied voice of Doctor Octavis filtered through the ear piece.

"Parker!"

"Hey Doc, good morning." He greeted, slumped over in his seat, accommodating to the short power cord that tethered him to the wall. "Sorry about yesterday..."

"No, no," Doc cut in, "think nothi-"

" No, I should have-" Peter interrupted, feeling guilty.

"No. Peter, listen to me," Octavius demanded, silencing him. The beta's tone held an unexpected amount of gravity that got Peter sitting up a little straighter, making him pull the charger cord from the wall, he quickly ducked for it and fumbled blindly to plug it back in. It's just that he's never heard Doc sound like that before.

"Forget that, there's a reason I called you. They pulled the plug on us. That damn, Oscorp. That damn, Norman Osborn!"

"Wait, wait," Peter tried to catch up, "what do you mean, what happened?"

"They pulled the grant. We've been defunded." He growled and Peter could tell he was beyond pissed. Norman Osborn had always been a sore spot for Doc. The two men had previously worked together. Doctor Octavis was a partnering scientist with Norman when he first started up Oscorp. The omega knew there was some bad blood between the two men, he didn't know the whole story but he did know that despite the split, Oscorp was the one supplying the funds for Doc's research. Or at least they were.

The thud from Peter forehead hitting the table echoed in the dining area, probably drawing a few stares but he wasn't even thinking about that now. Seriously, defunded? How could they!? The sinking feeling in gut already knew it was because of him, because he wasn't there but...What they were doing was monumental! They've been working on this project for almost two years, it was so close to being finished!

"But why?"

"The dampener failed. It went up in flames during the evaluation. The engery levels exceeded our expectations." Doc explained and then in a lighter note added, "From a certain view point, that's a very good development. "

"Just not from the committee's perspective." Peter's stomach churned with guilt.

"A minor set back."

"We'll figure it out, Doc." He tried to sound optimistic but he knew it was his fault.

"Ah, actually Peter." And for the second time in their short conversation Doctor Octavius took on a tone that Peter was unfamiliar with. "That's why I wanted to talk to you. I'm... I'm going to have to let you go."

"...let me go?" Where was he going?

"-without the grant and the funding being cut-"

It took a second for the words to sink into his thick skull, he missed what Doc said next as the words set it, sending a panicked jolt straight into heart. Like one of the few threads of his happiness had just been cut and he was dangling there by a single string, tail spinning and ready to crash.

"- your last check was deposited last night, you can come by anytime to get your things... You have the key."

"Wait, Doc! I can still help you!" He rushed to say, he couldn't just stop working at the lab, he didn't want to! "You don't even have to pay me I can-"

"Parker," Octavius heaved a heavy resigning sigh, "I appreciate you. You've helped me more than a great deal but I can't let you, there's something I need to do now. I'm going to show him, I going to show all of them, they'll see."

"Doc..."

"Don't worry Parker, we'll keep in touch."

They hung up. Peter groaned into the crook of his elbow as he crossed his arms under his face. It was all his fault. He should have been there for the pre-checks. It was his responsibility and he ditched Doc to go chase Alpha. Stupid Peter, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Suddenly everything was becoming too hot, the room was becoming too small, suffocating, the low murmuring the others around him turned to deafing white noise and he had to get out. Peter scrambled to pull the plug out from the wall, stuffing it into his pack as clambered to get up from the table. Aggressively throwing his trash into the bin as he hurried out.

The cool morning air was a relief on his flushed skin and he tried to heave it into this lungs with rapid, too short breathes. His racing mind spiraling, what next? How did he keep making the wrong choices? When did his life turn into a Lemony Snicket book?!

As he leaned against the bricks of the building, trying to calm him, his body decided to kick him lower and stressed up estrus cramping punched him in his lower gut. He double over on himself. Dropping into a sqaut with his face pressed into his knees and whining in pain.

It took a couple minutes but when it passed Peter let out a long shaky breath and wiped at his misty eyes. The cramping pain helped calm him down but now he was feeling a different type of exhausted from the one he woke up with. Whining to himself again he pressed the fabric of the hoodie into his nose, trying to comfort himself and calm down as he inhaled until it filled his head.

He was still upset. He was mad, entirely at himself, everything was his own doing. At least he still had hours at Pizza Amigos and the check directly deposited from Doc, which would probably still be a pending but it wasn't like he really had any big bills to pay now. He tried counting the good things he still had and kept remindinf himself that there's nowhere to go from rock bottom but up.

The beginnings of a plan formed as he jumped up and hurried off down the sidewalk.

----

Wade :) @ 8:02am: was wonderin how long u were goin 2 make me wait

Wade :) @ 8:02am: bout 2 send out the A Team

Wade had texted him over an hour ago. Peter hadn't checked his phone being too distracted with his current mission. He had made his way back to the abandon building, planning on finding something he could trade at the Pick-n-Pull for that portable generator he saw yesterday. Except, when he picked up a fancy leather watch that had stopped ticking or dusty covered ipad he felt too guilty to go through with it. These things didn't belong to him, he felt bad enough squatting in these people's home, he didn't want to allow himself to sink to the level of thievery too. Even if his brain tried to reason with him that these things were just going to continue sitting there and collect dust. That nobody would be missing them.

Peter @ 9:16am: lol don't worry about me

Peter @ 9:16am: I know kung fu :P

Peter doesnt know kung fu but one time Uncle Ben signed him up for a karate class in the second grade and by one time he really does mean just one time.

What could he trade? He didnt own anything valuable but he kept looking around the apartment hoping something would jump out at him that didn't seem to personal to take. That's when he spotted the wallet on the tiny side table by the door.

He picked it up and purposefully didn't look at the drivers license inside, just peaked into the money fold and pulled out two twenties, a ten, and three ones. He hoped it would be enough, somehow taking the money didn't rub him as wrongly as taking a material object.

Peter slipped the money into his own wallet, then he checked his phone.

Wade :) @9:20am: i wanna see u go hong kong phooey.

Peter @ 9:31am: you couldn't handle my moves.

----

Peter was way too happy about managing to snag the little portable generator, it took some heckling and throwing around the puppy dog eyes but the guy eventually gave in and lowered his price just for him. It was 800w thing, something some one would usually use for camping with solar panel chargers and multiple outlets, though Peter would have loved to take it apart to see what he could use it's insides for, it was perfect for charging his phone and laptop while staying at the powerless building.

Everything was running smoothly, he didn't run into trouble, nobody stopped him to tell him how 'ripe' he smelled. No hooligans or purse snatchers crossed his path. He stopped in at a corner store and bought a jar of chunky peanut butter, a loaf bread and two gators, one red and one blue with his last ten dollar bill he was saving, knowing he needed some sort of substance to keep him going.

He made sure to remember to call Pizza Amigos where he left a message with his coworker. Telling him that he was really sorry and even though he had just asked about more hours, he was feeling, "unstable" and need some time off. Unstable being the code word he used with the guys there, rather then just out right saying he was gonna go locke himself in his room and f*ck himself silly. Though, they were all rather good humored about it and never gave him toomuch crap about it, Peter still felt some awkwardness trying to explain his biology.

When he got back to the abandoned apartment he went about setting up. Finding the best window with the most sun to charge the generator and then cracking open a couple of windows because all the dust was making his sinuses stuffy and the place really need a breath of fresh air. He even went and dusted down the bedroom, since he figured that was where he would be taking refuge most of the time. He changed the sheets on the bed with ones he found in the linen closet, he'd simply slept on top of the duvet cover the night before.

After that he took a took a break and made himself a PB sandwich and checked his phone.

Wade :) @ 2:46pm: u nd ur sick polish fantasies!

He read the text with an amused smile and quickly replied that he wasn't even Polish.

Wade was apparently getting hotdogs off a street vendor and he was insulted they wouldn't give him ketchup but offered him sauerkraut instead. Peter was just trying to explain that's just how New Yorkers do.

Secretly, he wished he could be there too, getting dogs with Wade and hanging out. They'd been texting all morning and Peter almost forgot what it was like to have a friend. Peter never mentioned anything about being evicted or about squatting in a cold and dusty building or about being let go from the lab but Wade made him forget all that, at least just for a moment. Peter could really get use to having Wade around.

The low battery on his phone flashed it's warning and he went to plug it into the generator, happy to see it was charging and working well. Then he went back to work, thinking about Wade.

Before he knew it, the bed was nested with him in the middle of it, all the blankets from the linen closet walled around him, all his own clothes he had brought with, layer over the top of them. It smelled more him now, felt more secure in the smaller closed in space. He was starting to feel hot again and a little clammy in his clothes. He got up to get a drink, his throat feeling too dry and as stood he felt the slick drip between his cheeks.

'already?' he thought in dismay. It was too soon, way sooner then he expected. He ignored the mess he making as he grabbed the blue Gatorade from the grocery sack and cracked it open. He chugged half of it until his belly was full of liquid and then went and grabbed his laptop before returning to the bed. He had glanced at his charging phone but thought better of it to keep Wade at a distance if he suddenly went into full blown heat.

Peter made himself comfortable in his nest and opened his laptop, his mind flashing to Max for a second before he pushed that away and typed in his password. He clicked on the file that had his all downloaded movies and shows.

Time passed slowly, Peter wasn't really watching anything. He just kept thinking about Wade, what it would like with Wade, what he could be doing with Wade right now if Wade were here. Then his jeans and underwear were some how off and he was trying to rub one out of his little omega co*ck with Chevy Chase yelling on the screen.

Feeling a little irritated, he snaped the laptop close and pushed it aside. He couldn't concentrate on coming. He was trying to imagine Wade under the mask but nothing his imagination could come up with felt like his Alpha. He was so worked up and wet but it all just ended up being a repeat of that morning.

Frustrated, flushed and leaking slick, he beelined for the bathroom and cranked shower on. He thew off the hoodie and his t-shirt as the rusty water sputtered from the showered head and than ran clear.

The freezing water shocked him out of his hot flash and cooled him down in an instant. His boner flagged and went limp but he still felt the need. He bared the cold water like it was a punishment, shivering and dancing from foot to foot and repeatedly turning round under the spray until he couldn't handle it anymore and hopped out.

He padded back to the bedroom naked and dripping, only having scooped up the hoodie from the floor on the way out. He ignored his phone will all his might, even though he so badly wanted to hear from Wade, he crawled into his nest, damp and hair soaking and hugged his Alpha's hoodie to his chest and just stared.

There's a candle on one of the bedside table.

He blinked at it blankly, the label said, "cashmere mist." He doesn't know what either of those two things smelled like but Peter impulsively leaned over the wall of his nest and dug through the table's top drawer. He found the box of matches inside like he expected and lit up the candle just because he could, before flopping back over into his spot.

As the wax melted, a gentle and soothing scent filled the room.

Peter closed his eyes and just tried to sleep it off.

----

When he opened them again it was dark out.

As he came more into awareness, Peter felt the need already thrumming through him, he felt terrible, wanting, empty, his dick was already hard, trapped between the mattress and his belly. He rolled his hips against the covers and moaned weakly. The sheets were damp with his sweat and slick, sticking uncomfortably to every inch of his skin.

Searching for a cooler, dryer spot he rolled over on to his side, dick wobbling in the air for attention. He didn't even want to bother with it if he was just gonna get the same results as before.

He wondered if it was impossible to get off now. Like it has to be Wade or nothing.

Wouldn't that be a kicker.

Whining to himself, Peter got up to grab a drink, looking for water instead of artificial flavoring but somehow he ended up with his phone in his hand. Wade's conversation window open and he was clicking on the number and hitting call.

At the second ring, he realized what he was doing and hung up in a panic.

How was that even going to go? Was he trying to invite Wade over? To this crap house, so he can find out what a loser he was? God, he wanted to see him though, he wanted it so bad, he whined again and made his way back to the bed, whimpering to himself. He threw the phone into the blankets before crawling in after it.

Maybe he could watch some p*rn he had saved on his laptop.

The phone ringing cut that thought off.

Peter jumped at the sound, almost not recognizing the it as he rarely got any calls, his heart racing in his chest and then beating faster still when he saw name that lit up the screen.

Wade was calling him.

Of course he was. Peter clutched the device, and rolled over onto his side, bringing his knees up until he was curled into a fetal position. He stared the screen until it went silent and then dark. Peter tucked his head into his chest and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He just couldn't talk to Wade right now, he didn't trust himself.

Then the ringing started again and Peter clenched his eyes shut. Turning the screen over into the blankets and shoving it away, pretending like it didn't exist. He wholley expected another call, wondering if Wade was going to keep calling until he broke down and answered. Peter waited a whole minute before he looked at his phone again.

He saw a text.

Wade :) @ 12:02am: pick up the phone petey

It rang again in his hand. Peter hesitated. Wade knew he was there though, he basically just commanded him, he couldn't not pick up.

"Hello..." He greeted softly, suddenly feeling shy, laying there in the dark with only the flickering candle light, curled up in his nest completely naked and in the beginning stage of heat.

"There he is," Wade's voice purred through the speaker and into his ear. A coil of tension in Peter's belly relaxed and he let out his breath.

"Hi..." He whispered back.

"What's up, baby boy? Why are you call me? Miss me already?"

Peter hummed unsure of how to answer that. He really didn't want to talk to Wade, he didn't mean to call him but definitely, absolutely missed him and he sounded so good on the phone.

"Just felt like it." He murmured, his head too cloudy to come up with a good excuse. "I... don't feel very good."

"Aw, what's wrong?" The legit concern lacing Wade's voice made Peter feel just short of crying. A lot was wrong. It seemed like everything he did lately was wrong. He felt so ashamed of himself, embarrassed at his own actions, and now, he was hot with humiliation and heat, having a conversation he didn't actually really want to have.

"...don't wanna say."

Wade hummed but didn't push him for more of an answer, "Are you okay?"

The tight lump Peter was holding back in his throat throbbed, growing too big until it popped. He choked back a sudden sob as the tears started to well up. He definitely wasn't okay.

But he lied anyways, telling Wade is was, sniffling through his answer, knowing the alpha didn't need to use his lie detecting power for that one.

"Oh, Petey... Are you crying?"

"No," he moaned in denial, trying to get ahold of himself. He wiped at his face with the heal of his palm and rolled onto his back. His little dick bobbed in the air, still hard and aching. He palmed at it, pulling it flat against his belly and held it there.

"I'm just... Hot and I don't feel good and there's nobody here and I just wish, you ... " He cut himself off and an unbidded distressed whine came out instead, overwhelmed by his own body's reactions. God, he was really losing control.

There was a short pause of silence and then a breathy "oh." followed by another longer, resounding, "oooh..." And Peter flushed, knowing that Wade had figured it out.

"Wowie, alrighty then, yeah! Okay, I'm here baby boy, you're not alone. Are you safe?"

"Yeah," Peter trembled and squeezed his twitching dick, Wade voice sounded so good. Why couldn't he be here with him now? Why was it such a big deal? He couldn't remember.

"I want you." His voice croaked, sounding sad and pitiful and betraying him in the heat of the moment or it was just the heat itself. All rational thought telling him not to say it just flew out the window.

There was a short silence on the other end of the line and Peter squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling the dred of regret.

"Aww Petey..." His alpha finally sighed," I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"Why?!" Peter sobbed uncontrollably, "Wade, please..."

"Oh, you're gonna make this hard for me, huh?... Yeah, really hard, heh. Don't you have-" the alpha hesitated before he finished, "anybody else to take care of you?"

"No." Peter insisted immediately, "No one.. everybody is gone, it's just me. Just me. I'm all alone." He was so alone and for so long now, all by himself. He didn't want anybody else. "I'm all alone, Wade."

"Okay, okay, I'm here, you're fine. Give me a minute."

Peter blinked at the ceiling, his eye lashes plinking together wetly, listening to the background noises on the other end of the line. For the first Peter realized, he was suppose to be meeting up with Deadpool as Spider-Man, he completely forgot about it but at the moment he didn't care. Because he was here. On the phone with him, talking into his ear and he was going to be right back and be there with him. He whined, he missed Wade already.

"Phew! Alright, now tell me... Are you touching yourself?"

Peter's breath hitched and thrill zipped through his core like Wade had just dropped an some sort aphrodisiac atom bomb on him.

"Yes." He answered breathlessly, shifting further back into the featherdown pillows, his tears drying up like magic. He would take anything right now. His hand was back twisting over head of his co*ck and down the shaft with peaked interested.

Wade growled lowly in approval and made Peter's hole clench in arousal.

"Oh yeah, bet you look so good right now, baby boy. Bet you're dripping all over, huh? Down right soaking wet. Are you naked?"

"Mhmm" Peter confirmed, fingers moving under his vestigial sack and smearing the sticky slick up and over himself, the lubrication making his hand glide over his smaller sized co*ck with delicious ease and he sighed into the phone.

"This okay, Petey?" The alpha's tone softened for a moment and his heart clenched, the semi-lucid bit of his consciousness recognizing that Wade was trying to respect his boundaries and God, that was really hot for some reason.

"Yeah...s'good."

"Put me on speaker, you're gonna need both hands."

Peter scrambled to obey, dropping the phone, panting and trembling with excitement. He switched positions, flopping on to his belly, Face directly into Wade's bunched up hoodie as he shifted, chest and shoulders pressed into the duvet cover and ass rising in the air, presenting.

"Tell me what your doing." Wade's voice's came clearly through the speaker, filling up the silent space in the dark room. If Peter closed his eyes he could almost pretend he was there with him, breathing in his scent and hearing his voice.

"I'm touching myself," he repeated, reaching to grip himself again and sighing as he squeezed with just the right amount pressure, thumb sweeping over the weeping head.

"Where?"

"My, my c-co*ck" Peter stumbled over the word as he remembered himself for a second. He'd never talked dirty before and he was still aware enough to feel some sort of embarrassment over it, though he didn't know how long that would last.

Wade hummed sounding pleased, "Good boy. Keep doing that, feels good doesn't it? Why don't reach down with that other hand and circle your fingers over your pretty hole, but penetrate yet. Slowly, gently, rub your fingers around that sweet little puckered ring."

Peter did as he was told, fingers reaching behind himself and teasing his slippery wet enterence. It was soft and piant under his touch and it twitched as he pushed and digged at the tight center with he pad of his blunt finger tip, he knew he could easily slip inside himself but he listened to Wade and didn't.

"Does it feel good, Petey?"

"Yeah," his voice trembled, he squeezed his eyes tighter, pretending it was Wade touching him. "feels good."

"Are you using my hoodie?" Wade asked.

"Yeah...smells like you." Peter breathed turning his head into it and huffing at the scent, his lips parted, mouth open and tasting it on his tongue, a rich bouquet of spice, heady and eye rollingly good. "Smells good. Smells really good. Ah- I love it, Alpha..."

Wade purred into the receiver and Peter gushed more slick but his voice and scent alone wasn't enough, he wanted more. Peter bit at the plush cotton fabric, clenched it between his teeth, tugging at it as he tugged on his dick, pushed it into the pallet of his mouth with his tongue and suckled on it, wanting to wholly consume his Alpha. It wasn't enough, not at all but it was still so good.

"Do me a favor and don't wash that when you return it."

Peter huffed a silent laugh, releasing the damp fabric of Wade's hoodie from his mouth, drooling everywhere and panting. His knees spread out wider and his back dipped, searching for a better position to get better access to both ends. Up and down and twisting, squeezing just under the head of his co*ck in the way he liked it, his fingers slid through the fresh slick and just slipped inside his ready hole, he didn't mean to, maybe he did, he wanted to listen to Wade, wanted to be good but once the first knuckle breached the ring of muscles, still tight but so needy, he couldn't stop himself from going deeper, easily sliding the second digit in along with it and digging for that trigger spot.

He was crying out in pleasure as his finger brushed against the edge of his prostate.

"Peter," Wade drew out his name in way that sounded like he was being scolded but there's also a teasing tint to it. "Are you fingering yourself?" He was asking, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes," he whined back, liking the way Wade's voice had got even more deeper as he teased himself. Getting him more worked up by the second.

"Even though I just told you to wait?"

"Yeah," he agreed mindlessly, totally unaware of the over indecent and wet, squelching noises coming from him as he worked his needy ass.

"Oh, you are so naughty, aren't you?"

"Yeah." He couldn't stop.

"Is that all you can say, baby boy?"

"Mhmm," he whined, feeling it building, his thighs quivered and his toes dug deep into the mattress, his body tense.

Wade chuckle. "Can't help yourself can you? You need it so bad, such a needy omega, I can hear it. You sound amazing, Petey, don't hold back. I could listen to you like this on loop for days. Are you getting close?"

"Wade..." Peter bucked wantonly into his own hand then pushed back eagerly onto his probing fingers.

"Yeah, baby boy. Don't stop playing with your sweet little hole, you're doing so good. Such a sweet boy. Such a good omega."

The praise caught him off guard and his org*sm coiled quickly in his belly and sprung loose like a rubber band snapping. He shouted in surprise as he bursted with pleasure. It became too much, too quickly and he pulled his finger free from back side but the other hand rode it out with a few last jerks to his dribbling co*ck.

Wade giggled into the phone and Peter could feel the stupid, exhausted grin on his own face as he tried to catch his breath. His head begun to clear, finally getting some release and feeling stated. He was almost in disbelief at what just happened, he knew he couldn't trust himself but boy, was that worth it.

"That was quick. Someone is waaayyy too pent up."

"...yeah" Peter huffed shamefully. "I know."

"Feeling better?"

Peter hummed his answer, feeling like a blissed out, wet noodle, "what about you...?" He asked feeling fuzzy, maybe his head wasn't as cleared as he thought.

"Hm? Me? What about me? This is all about you, Petey."

"But-" but what? Peter didn't know where to go with the rest of his sentence.

"Yeah, butts, definitely! Now take your cute little butt and clean up, eat a midnight snack, drink some water and tuck yourself into bed because it's late and it's past your bed time, young man."

"Hn, don't wanna move."

"Fine with me, lay in your own cum covered mess, ooo yeah, right click and save that metal Polaroid, hot."

"Wade..." Peter groaned but he was still smiling and Wade was chuckling too. Their laughter died down into comfortable silence that fell between the line. Peter wiped his hands off on the blankets and then the sweat from his forehead before reaching out for the phone, switching off the speaker and holding it to his ear

"Sooo..." Peter drawled awkwardly. "thank you, for ...you know."

"No,no,no, thank you! " Wade insisted, not making it weird at all. "And hey, you know, you're not alone, there's always someone out there, Petey, and I'm here! I'm around, you got my number. I'll be your very own Alpha call service!"

Peter gave a little laugh and agreed with him, quietly thanking him again as he rolled over on his back and threw an arm over his eyes.

"Can you... talk a little longer?"

"I'm all yours, baby boy."

Chapter 12 Notes:

I wanna congrat all you people who sit through my mistakes, bad punctuation, weird wording garbage and impossibly long updates. Should I go through it and make corrections and update quicker? Probably. Will I? No, I don't think I will. *Old man smile*

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Wade pressed the barrel of his gun to his dick.

It'd been two whole days and he can't stop imagining sweet Peter drunk off of heat.

His co*ck can't handle another beating off marathon.

"The chaffing!"

Even if he did heal immediately after.

"Don't forget the zipper burn."

Ugh, the poor little guy... and he doesn't mean his own wang. Heh, nothing little about that. He means poor little Petey! Took every ounce of his good guy power not to give into his sweet pretty begging. It nearly broke his heart to hear his watery voice crying out for him. On all accounts, Wade wanted to rush over there and eat him right up. Just gobble down on that bubble butt, lick him clean out, slurp that sweet juicy slick straight out of his ass like it was italian spaghetti and when Peter was absolutely all strung out for it, he'd slip inside and rut into him until the boy was blissed up and hanging off his knot, stuffed full and even after Wade's spent and worn, he'll duffle bag himself back inside for another round.

"Schwing!"

Wade threw his head back and groaned.

"Oh, is that pizza sauce?"

"More likely it's blood."

The gun fell to the way side as the voices admire the questionanble stains on the ceiling and Wade stares past them into the void, ignoring his partial chub as he sinked deeper into the couch. He's bored out of his mind. Spider-Man ditched him and he hadn't heard from Petey again and sure, he could get up and do something, he just doesn't.

He came to New York for new adventure! For the American dream! Because he saw some sick ass viral videos of Spider-Man doing some amazing ass sh*t and he thought hey! that guy looks like he knows how to have a good ol' time and then he went down some spider hole and watched every bit of footage there was on the wall crawler. Wade knew of some spider guy crawling around but he had always just imagined some eight legged f*cker creeping in the shadows, shooting webs out of his ass. Not this genuine, real-deal, goody two shoes.

And Wade wanted in on that. He was ready. Half the planet was dead and gone so why not put his thing down, flip it and reserve it. Boom. Zero to hero! He still couldn't hardly believe that Spider-Man had accepted him so easily, how easy it was to team up with him, how amazing it felt, and how naturally the way they worked together was. It was a kind of rush he hadn't felt in a long time. And the hero had totally lived up to every expectation Wade had day dreamed up of him. Except, apparently Spider-Man didn't feel the same way because he stood him up like Julia Roberts in a white wedding dress. But just because he was ditched once didn't mean he was about to give up. They didn't call him La Cucaracha for nothing!

He might be more bummed out about it if Peter didn't distract him with that unexpected call...

Oh Peter... Peter, Peter, Pete-petey-pie, Peter. Wade just wanted scoop him up and stuff him full of delicious fatty foods until he's fighting off a food coma. Then he'd snuggle him down into a nested couch while they watch Blanche slu*t her way through silver foxes and he'd pet through Peter's soft, silky, chocolate pudding hair until he was melted and purring, and when it's time to call it a night, he'll tuck him into bed nice and tight while he says his goodnight prayers and cherry top it off with a kiss to the forehead.

"Ew. Why so wholesome?"

"Aw, don't be lonely! You still got us!"

Maybe he needed to find something to blow up.

"Oh yeah! Spider-Man would love that!"

Hey, it worked last time.

Notes:

Super short. The next one will be a real long one.

Chapter 13 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"'Ey Pete, it's your best friend!" Lenny, Peter's coworker and one of the pie tossers at Pizza Amigo, slapped the new order down onto the counter and pushed the boxes forward towards the heat lamps.

"You tip me ten bucks and I'll be your best friend too, Leonard." Peter jeered back, slipping the pizza boxes into his hot bag and chuckling when Lenny called him a cheap date. He was actually in a good mood today. It a little funny how just feeling normal could feel so good.

After the third day of his heat, it was like Peter suddenly woke up with a clear head, having one of those 2am self determined, 'I'm not gonna let life kick me in the nuts anymore' motivation. He was gonna get all his sh*t together. He was gonna try and get Doc his funding back and his lab job. He was gonna find a nice apartment, he was gonna pay his bills on time and sleep 8 hours every night and drink all the water and maybe that meant spending less time as Spider-Man because he needed to take care of Peter first, but who was he kidding on that last bit.

As he filled up his delivery bag, he noted the extra additions to the regular's order. Weasel was a creature of habit and never deviated but Peter didn't really care or think too much of it beyond that.

"'Hasta la vista!!" He called to the crew with his worst Terminator impersonation, crossing over the counter and heading out. The door's bell jingled overhead, the cool autumn air greeted him and his spider sense creeped up the back of his neck the moment the he stepped foot outside.

Peter paused, he blinked slowly and nonchalantly looked both ways up and down the street. Weird. Nothing immediately stood out to him or made itself known. He frowned to himself as an uncertain anticipation curled into his chest. When nothing happened, he tipped the bill of his hat over his eyes and continued on his way.

Usually Pizza Amigo used election scooters for deliveries, Peter started out using one when he was first hire, before he had become more comfortable with the job and figured out he could get more deliveries done by webslinging. More deliveries, more tips. Then it turned into him pretending to take one and just parking it further down the street before slinging off. Now, he didn't even bother with it because nobody even seemed to notice what was going on outside the shop.

Weasel's place wasn't too far away. It was a lickity split sling over to it. The pizza were always still hot and fresh by the time he got there.

As he made his way up to the second floor apartment, Peter thought back on the weird spidey sense happening. It was like when battle music started playing in a video game but you couldn't find the enemy. His brain flipped through a rolodex of times the same thing had happened, as rare as it did, he came up with no result and decided to just ignore it.

But when he reached to knocked on the door, a little light bulb went off in his head and Max was brought to the forefront. Did he know where he worked? Probably. His senses never warned about Max before though, right? Would that mean he was more of a threat now? He couldn't be sure, he was just speculating. Either way it left him feeling a little distressed. Max was a chore he didn't want to deal with.

So caught up in his own thoughts Peter didn't hear the voices coming from inside, followed by stumbling footsteps and when the door swung up, he greeted Weasel with a started, cut short jump.

The beta arched a brow, "What's up delivery boy?"

"Pizza time," Peter threw on his customers service smile and took the offered money, pocketing it into the little apron tied around his waist, not even counting or giving change because that's just the way things had come to work between them. He worked to release the buckle on the hot bag and proceeded to pull out the boxes of food, stacking them one by one into waiting hands. Weasel said and his thanks and turned to leave.

On spilt decision, surprising even himself, Peter called him out to wait, then he did something he'd never done before and asked Weasel if he had any extra jobs he wanted delivered.

"Uhhh, yeah, probably." Weasel shrugged uncaring, rubbing his ear with his shoulder with his eyes locked onto the cheesey bread sticks that he had just opened. "Gimme a second," he added, walking away with a stick clamped between his teeth like a smoking cigar.

A little bit doubt started to creep into him as he was left alone with himself. Maybe he shouldn't have asked. He kind of felt like he was doing something he wasn't suppose to. There was a difference between taking the initiative to ask and just taking up an offer. Or at least it felt like it. He wasn't even sure exactly what he was playing delivery boy for.

Shifting awkwardly from one foot to the another, he took the opportunity to be nosey and survied the inside while he waited. The first thing he noticed was another man occuping the couch, sitting with the hood of his zip up pulled up over his head and questionanblely fashionable croc'ed feet carelessly kicked up onto the table. The rest of the place was typical type of spartan man style. There was a dirty bong next to a gallon of Red Vines on the coffee table, beer cans here and there, a game controller fallen on the floor. Weasel had went over to a messy covered desk against the west wall where a three montiered pc set up (color Peter jealous) was. He watched the beta's back for a second and then swept his sight back across room, only to lock eyes with the stranger. Peter's jumped away in an instant. The man's skin was... different and he didn't want to give him the wrong idea. Maybe looking away made him more suspicious though.

Feeling caught, Peter took a step back to distance himself and fumbled for his phone for a distraction. Almost on cue, it vibrated in his hand and a message alert popped up.

Wade :) @ 7:18pm: WYD??

His little heart gave an excited thump. It was the first time he'd heard from his Alpha since the day he went into heat. Partly his own fault too, he knew it went both ways. There was a single message waiting for him when he had come out of it, asking him if he was okay. Peter had sent back a little thumbs up emoji and nothing else. It was just that he couldn't pick up the courage to say anymore. He didn't know what to say. Or what Wade would say.

Peter's induced heat was shorter than usual but it also slapped harder than anyone one he had had before. It left him feeling bone exhausted and head tired and somehow it felt like he pulled a muscle in his leg and his shoulder. Most of it was a haze, sweaty and achey fuzzy memories, that consisted of ruined sheets and ice cold baths. The one thing that jumped out at him clearly though, was the memory of him fingering his own ass while Wade cheered him on through the phone.

And while it was probably the single most hottest thing that had ever happened to him, it was also the most embarrassing. They had talked afterwards too, a totally normal conversation, about what though? He had no idea, he wasn't even sure if they had said good bye cause next thing he knew he was waking up, too heat stupid to even plug his phone back in.

Actually, he was glad Wade hit him up with something so easy. Maybe they could just going to pretend it never happened.

Peter @ 7:18pm: nm just working.
Peter @ 7:19pm: you?

Almost in the same instant he had sent the texts there was a double ding that ringed out from inside the apartment, making Peter look up with furrowed brows. That was odd, right? What were the chances of that coincidence? But he didn't have time to question it further because Weasel was back in the door way with his own phone in hand.

"Hey, like.. Why don't you stop back here tomorrow... Or just gimme your number and I can-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa-!" A second, very familiar voice came cutting in from behind the beta.

Peter's ears perked up at the sound of it, his heart double jumped excitedly in recognition and as he looked over the shoulder of Weasel, his nostrils flared through the dank smelling air, trying to catch the scent. Wade?

"Hold the f*cking door, What the hap is f*ckening here??"

That had to be Wade but...

Peter's throat pinched when he tried to swallow, absolutely floored. Wade was here. It was Wade, wasn't it? He could see all of him, his whole face, eyes, ears, lips and nose and yeah, so what? he was a little... rough looking. Peter couldn't say he didn't notice but he didn't care because he'd never been so attracted to anyone in his life than he was right now. "Wade?"

He really was starting believe they were tied together by a string of fate for them to keep running into each other like this.

"God, I love the way say my name." Wade purred, pushing Weasel out of the way, who protested and stumbled over his own socked feet.

"Hey, Petey... You're looking good."

"Wow...yeah, Hi." His thoughts exactly, Wade was looking good. But wait, why was he looking at him like that though?

His gut sank as uncertainty twisted through him. Wade was smiling but something was wrong about it. Peter had never seen him smile before, yet he somehow knew it wasn't a real one. It didn't quite reach his eyes. Blue eyes. Wade had blue eyes. That looked as unsure as Peter was felt now.

"Nobody wants to see this."

The words from their first lunch rattled around in his skull and he understood them now.

Wade was wrong though, Peter did want to see.

He looked on and he saw and he wanted and he watched as Wade reached out. Peter sucked in a breath and held on to it as long fingers plucked the hood's draw string off his chest and toyed with it between between a thumb and index. Wade loomed over him, stepping closer and leaning his weight into the door's frame with one forearm over head.

A submissive voice whispered in his head, telling him to divert his eyes but Peter didn't want to look away. He was finally seeing Wade's face. But he couldn't hold out against instinct and he gave into it in end, all that attention focused in him was just too much. He was only able to hold the gaze for a heart beat before he lowered his eyes, silently tilting his head to the side just so, exposing the slope of his neck. He looked down at the space between their feet, toes pointed towards each other, noting the difference if their foot size and almost wanting to laugh at Wade's crocs. And then after a moment longer, Peter peered back up at his alpha from under his lashes, watching as Wade pulled the string up to his nose and brushed the frayed end against the tip of it as he inhaled. Blue eyes borring down into Peter's own.

"You washed this."

Brain to shocked to speak, he nodded, cheeks burning red under the heated gaze. He did wash the hoodie, took a whole load of laundry to F.E.A.S.T. that very morning and even though he didn't want to wash Wade's scent out, he couldn't well wear it around smelling like fresh hot heat. And oh God! He wondered what Wade was thinking, catching him still wearing it. There was no chance of denying that he wasn't interested in the alpha anymore. He couldn't even blame it on heat. He bit at his lower lip nervously and Wade's eyes darted down to it.

An obnoxiously forced throat clearing shattered the mood.

"So... you guys know each other or are you just into robbing craddles now?"

"I'm 21," Peter croaked, slightly offended and almost forgetting that they weren't alone. He straightened out his posture, eyes darting from Weasel and back to Wade. He snatched the draw string away from Wade, tugging it free from his fingers.

"Oh, me and Petey are bff, we go waaaay back. Lots of history. Right, Petey?"

"Uumm.." Peter stalled while trying even back out the strings. It was a pet peeve when they were uneven, okay? And he doesn't actually know what they are but he gave a stiff nod of agreement and a half hearted shrug. "Yeah...something like that."'

Wade winked at him, which didn't make him giddy at all. Then the alpha turned on his friend and with an accusing finger, jabbed the air.

"Were you just trying to give a gold card?!" He yelled and Peter quizzically wondered what a gold card was.

"He asked for it!" Weasel threw his own finger back at Peter.

"He is sweet and innocent!"

"Still 21-" Peter reiterated and Wade cut him off with a dramatic shushing sound, throwing his arm over Peter's shoulder and started to pull him inside.

He flailed. "Hhey! Wait, Wade! I'm still on the clock, I can't, I have to-"

"Actually, pizza boy!" His alpha cut him off, tutting him, "I think I have a complaint. I know, I specifically ordered an extra large sausage."

"No." Peter corrected flatly, not having it. "I'm pretty sure you ordered pineapple with olives."

"MMM, sweet and salty." Wade hummed, letting him go as he turned to go back to his seat, muttering about already packing an extra large sausage anyways.

"Yo, if you're staying, take off your shoes. I just vacuumed." Weasel complained, already sitting down across the room in a cracked leather recliner and reaching for a slice with one and a cup of ranch with the other.

"No, I'm really not..." He started to say but his brain and body apparently had two different ideas because he was toeing off his ratty sneakers at the same he was speaking, already eyeing the empty seat on the couch next to Wade.

"Get the door, dude."

"Oh. Oh, y- yeah! Right." He reached and blinding pulled the door shut behind him. He neatly lined his tennies next to the jumble of others, along with the hot bag and padded over to where the guys where.

Pausing before the seat, he eyed the television playing Robot Wars. Awesome. He got distracted for second by the battling bots trying to destroy each other before he realized it was a rerun he had already seen and then he's looking back to the empty seat and slying over to Wade, who was preoccupied with the food. With slight hesitation, Peter perched himself precariously on the edge of the cushion, hands together in his lap awkwardly.

A second later a pizza box scooted across the table towards him. He eyed the delicious smelling pizza with semi-questionable toppings, when it didn't close again he looked up from it to Wade, who was staring back at him. He gestured with a tip of his chin, "I know you want some, baby boy."

Of course he did. Peter was always hungry and hadn't had dinner yet.

"Can you stop the disgusting flirting? I'm eating here."

Peter shrunk into shoulders at Weseal's commentary and he hurried to snatch up a slice, losing a few pineapple pieces in the process before taking a big bite to occupy his mouth. Wade shot back about Weasel needing to get prostate exam because it'll be the only action he'll be getting. Peter grinned into his slice as he listened to the two banter and some of the tension started to ease out of him. He relaxed deeper into the couch, munching away mindlessly with eyes only for his alpha.

Because he could see Wade and yeah, he wondered what had happened to him, what made him look like that or whether it some type of condition but honestly, either way, it didn't take away a single ounce of his presence. He was still handsome despite it, big shouldered, muscled arms, and thicc thighs. Peter eyes swept over him, lingering in certain places, but always returning to study the face that had been hiding under the mask.

Until Wade turned and caught him staring.

"Sorry," he muttered, quickly looking away, apologizing mostly out of habit and hoping Wade didn't take his staring in a wrongly.

He didn't expect a strong hand to wrap around the back on his neck, completely palming his nape and long fingers squeezing in just the right stops, making him turn to goo under the grip. Wade tugged him in close and Peter went without a fight. Alpha's lips ghosted against the shell of his ear, his wet breath making the butterflies in his gut go wild. "It's okay," Wade whispered to him, a graveled growl layered into his voice. "Go ahead and stare all you want."

Peter nodded with his chin tucked to his chest, his heart kicking up so loud he was sure Wade could here it.

"It's just you got a little sauce on your face." He tried to play it off.

Wade wiped at the corner of his mouth.

"Other side."

Wade followed up on the other side.

"Other, other side."

The alpha narrowed his eyes at him and Peter mouth turned into a weird squiggly line as he tried not to smile. Giving it away.

"I can't stay long." He said quickly to changed the subject and cut Wade off from a counter attack. Because he was in danger being so close to Wade and he really did have to get back to the shop, even if he didn't want to.

Wade grunted and withdrew from him, leaning forward. Peter watched him grab and arrange three of the chicken flautas, placing one between each finger like they were Wolverines adamantium claws. He made a 'snikt' sound effect with his mouth and held them up threateningly.

"You can go as soon as you tell me why you asking this rat for a job." He said, then bit the tops off of two of them and offered the third one to Peter, who bit into it obediently. "You hard up on money, Petey?" He asked before whipping around to Weasel accusing him with the half eaten flauta claws, "your gratuity better be up to 20%!!"

"Don't even, I am Maharaja of tippers," The beta scoffed, never ungluing his eyes from the screen.

"No," Peter agree, swallowing around his bite and jumping in. "He's, Weasel's great. I just.. " He winced trying not to sound too pathetic and giving away how poor he really was. He just finished with a shrug. "Who doesn't want more money?"

Frankly, he didn't understand why it was such a big deal, though the last time he took a little work for Weasel he did end up being chased down the street and that guy chasing him ended up dead. (Which he still wasn't cool with by the way, it's just he's been through a lot of traumatic sh*t so sometimes, most of the time, it all gets pushed under the rug to deal with late. Or not at all. Super healthy, right? )

"Trust me, you don't want to be making deals with Rumpleforskin here."

"Mmn!" Weseal agreed, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and pushing up his glasses. "He's right, you know! But I'd say you're already going down the path of unrighteousness if you're hanging out with the Human Scrotum. Beer?" He tipped his can in an offer.

"No, I'm good. Thanks" Peter declined, not being to bothered about letting the subject be dropped. He wasn't totally comfortable with it the first place so he was taking this as a sign it wasn't meant to be.

Relaxing more, he leaned back further, his shoulder slid against Wade's arm and rested there. He barely got away with it before he was being jostled and for a second he thought Wade was moving away from him but then he was falling furthering into his alpha's side. Wade had lifted his arm up to stretch it out across the back of the couch. Peter didn't move, not entirely convinced that he had done that on purpose but nothing more happened, Wade didn't even glance at him or crack one of his usual jokes.

Something settled in him as he sat pressed into the warm flank of a bigger body. Maybe this whole thing was a lot easier than he was making it out to be. After all, they were meant to be together, right? At least, Peter was meant for Wade, Wade was free to do whatever he wanted but it sure did seem like he was okay with him right now. It'd been so long since Peter got to cuddle with anyone, it made his heart ache. He wanted badly to turn into his alpha, tuck in tight, and breath deeply. He secretly willed Wade to bring his arm down to hold and pet him, but of course he never did.

"I'm moving, that's why I need money."

"Where you moving?" The question was so casual it caused Peter to peek up at the man he was tucked against, making sure he was the one who said it. Wade sided eyed him back, beer pressed against his lips as he drank.

"Don't know yet, somewhere nice? I need money first."

Wade hummed and passed Peter a chicken flauta, who took it with a small thanks and tried to ignore the way the older man watched him eat it. They sat around for a few more minutes, cheering and yelling at the battling bots on the tv. Wade and Weasel and a bet going who would win. Peter didn't let the cat out of the bag but he knew Weasel would lose. Sitting around, hanging out, being teased, was both a little frustrating and oddly, refreshing at the same time. Like he was just kicking it with guys. Something Peter hadn't done in ages. It was something he wanted to get use to. But he had to get back.

He waited for a commercial break, than wiped his fingers off on his jeans and stood up, knowing he couldn't linger any longer than the fifteen short minutes that had just passed.

"Taking off?"

"Yeah, they're probably be thinking I fell into a open man hole by now."

He'll just tell them he took his break.

Weasel made a joke about the danger of man holes and said his goodbye without getting up. Wade stood up behind him and Peter shot him a questioning look but didn't say anything as he followed him out.

He thought Wade was just going to say good bye to him at the door so when he stepped out with him and closed it behind him, his heart picked up in anticipation.

"Soo..." He drew out, looking up at his alpha and feeling fidgety.

"Soo..." Wade mimicked him, leaning down a little closer, a tiny smirk playing at his lips.

"Thanks for sharing your pizza?" Peter guessed, not sure what Wade wanted from him

"You're very welcome, baby boy." Wrinkles formed in the corner of Wade's eyes when the little smirk turned into a genuine smile and Peter was still in disbelief that this man was his alpha. Dazed, he let the older man reach out and touch a bit of too long hair that hung from behind his ear, twisting it around his finger, "but isn't there something you want to give me?"

'He wants you to kiss him.' His mind supplied immediately, his own thoughts making him blush. No way! Right?? He had to be misinterpreting that.

"W-what?" Smooth Parker.

Wade's fingers stopped playing with his hair and slipped down the side of his neck, Peter couldn't keep his gaze off of Wade's face, watching alpha eyes following his own rough finger tips skid across his bare skin until they hooked themselves into the collar of the hoodie he wore.

"Don't you have something of mine?" The fingers gently tugged at the neck hole and it clicked into place for Peter. Wade wanted his hoodie back.

"O-oh! Yeah." Of course! He let the delivery bag fall from his hand and started to pull his arm in through the sleeve. God, what was he thinking before? Get a grip. As he stripped off the sweater he mourned the loss of it, he knew he had to give it back but there was a small part of him that had hopped he could keep it a little while longer. He didn't think Wade would actually ask for it straight off his back.

"Here." He said, holding it out forlornly, trying not to visibly shiver as chill ran through him. He had nothing but a short sleeved Pizza Amigo tee to keep him from the night air.

Wade unzipped his own hoodie and shrugged it off, passing it to Peter and pulling on the one he was just wearing. Peter watched him a little dumb stuck. Wade was gonna smell like him now. It stirred up some sort of possessive feeling he didn't know he was capable of.

"What are you doing? Hurry up and put that on." Wade snatched the zip up back and proceeded to man handled him into it. He even zipped it up and picked up the hot bag, placing it back into his limp hand.

"There we go." Wade backed off, looking over his work, his hands stuffed into his pockets. His tongue rolled over the top row of his teeth, pink tongue licking at a sharp canine as he admire the view.

"Thanks." Peter muttered, his eyes on Wade's mouth and then his lashes fluttered as he inhaled his favorite scent.

"Now you gotta see me again to return it"

A little laugh escaped him, because he was happy. Wade thought he needed an excuse to see him. "Or we could just hang out." He shrugged with a shy smile. "If you want."

Wade gaspedand clasped his hands together, "Haunted segway tour!?"

"yeah, sure! We could do that." He grinned, totally unsurprised by
Wade's whacky suggestion.

"Awesomesauce."

"Cool beans."

For a moment they just stared at each other grinning like idiots until Peter reminded Wade he needed to go.

The alpha nodded, agreeing. "Text me,"' he said. "Or you know, we could have another late night round of telephone-orcation."

His none existing brows waggled up an down. "You know," he continued with a couple of pelvic thrusts, "a little phone-bone."

Peter choked and decided to ignore the suggestion.

"I'll text you."

"I'm not hearing a no," Wade teased and Peter smacked him in the legs with the empty bag.

"Goodnight, Wade."

"Goodnight, Peter."

As the omega made his way back down the stairs, he replayed the last few moments in his head and wondered how he was going to explain to the pizza crew how his hoodie turned into a sweat coat and why is smelled like alpha.

Notes:

Next chapter, Peter ends up with a job after all, Wade helps out. And maybe he'll get the chance to check out the Helping Omega Relief/Disaster Effort.

Chapter 14 Notes:

This isn't what I said it was at the end of the last chapter. I had ideas.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Deadpool is like a blaring beacon in all red.

It was by pure accident or some sort of freaky instinctal homing directive that brought Peter back to him. Spider-Man just happened to be swinging along on one of his regular patrol paths, not really expecting much because it was still early in the morning and even criminals like to sleep in. He should be sleeping in.

The second he was off his shift at Pizza Amigo, Peter was suiting up in a dirty back alley and swinging off. The last couple of days being couped up inside had left him feeling antsy and he was itching to get back into the game. A few nights of being off the streets meant a little extra fun for him to clean up and before he knew it the sun had already risen for the next day.

He did go crawling back to his hide out, more so because he knew he should, rather than that he wanted too. That little Aunt May angel on his shoulder scolding him for staying out all night. He probably only sleeping three or four hours before he startled awake out of a stress dream and couldn't go back to sleep.

He had passed out fully suited up, didn't even bother to pull the mask off. He figured he might as well go back out and catch a morning patrol because it wasn't like he had anything else to do.

It was pretty uneventful over all but Peter like to think that just by swinging around anyone getting criminal ideas would give them a second thought.

It was just after he had got done saving a window washer from becoming a sidewalk crepe that the red leather suit caught his eye, even from a dozen stories up.

It shouldn't be suspicious but anything Deadpool did made Peter more curious than a cat. Even if it was something as simple as pumping gas into a large box van. A box van that had big ass crayon mural duct tapped over the sides that read, 'DP DELIVERIES' with childish drawings.

Swooping in, Peter silently landed on top of the carport over head of the pumps. Carefully, he creeping to the edge and peeked over it to spy on his alpha. Wade stood happily tapping his foot with one hand on his hip and the other on the pump, watching the numbers rack up to the final total and humming something that sounded a lot like The Spice Girls bop.

There was no way Spider-Man could let this go. So when Wade finished up and drove away, he dropped down and hitched a ride, sticking himself to back and resting on the bumper.

For about forty minutes Peter wondered where they were going, coming up with all sorts of situations in his head. At one point he almost dozed off because Wade's navigation of the roads was impressively smooth and he was pretty tired after all.

Eventually, the road became more bumpy, less vehicles crowded it, buildings became shorter and more sparse and then they were pulling down a long drive way. Peter got even more curious when they passed a playground. When he around the passenger's side he saw a large sprawling building lay up ahead. A school? Squinting, his lenses zoomed in on the plaque hanging by the large double front doors. "The St. Foundling's Institute est. 1992". No, it wasn't just a school. It was an orphanage. What was Wade doing at an orphanage?

A mirage of bad to terrible possible outcomes raced through his mind but he shamed them out of his head. Then he remembered Wade was driving a questionable delivery truck. He wanted to trust Wade.

'Positive vibes only, Parker.' he reminded himself.

As they pulled to a stop, a side door to the building opened up and Peter watched as children of various sizes and age came spilling out for their morning play. Some running straight to the play ground, some lingered in groups, others spotted the strange truck and pointed it out to the two older woman over looking them. Peter crawled out of view as the drivers side door flung open and Deadpool hopped out, hollering a good merry top of the morning.

He listened in to them talking. Wade was here with donations? That was so kind of him, he need to fill out some paper work for tax write offs? Deadpool didn't seem like the paperwork type of guy. Peter snuck a peek over the roof. Watching, wait! When did Deadpool change? He was wearing something that looked like a parody of a UPS driver over his suit, teeny tiny shorts stretching over his thigh and buttons almost popping off his chest. He had a pen and clip board in hand.

Some of the more curious kids had come over and gathered behind the woman. Some looked young enough that wouldn't even remember what the world was like before Snap. He sadly wondered how many kids were here because of it. How many of them had lost one or even both of their parents.

"Look!! It's Spider-Man!"

Peter flinched and ducked back down behind the side of the truck.

"No, no, no that's Deadpool! Dead. Poo-ol." He heard Wade trying to correct them. "Mr. Pool to you, you cute, little, booger covered whelp. Wow! That really is so disgusting. And so adorable! Somebody get this kid a tissue."

"No! I saw Spider-Man there."

"Me too, me too!"

Ut-oh.

Knowing his cover was going to be blown by persistent children, Peter decided to give it up and popped himself up, putting on a little show as he flipped and somersaulted through the air and landed in his signature crouching spider pose.

"Oh my god!" Wade squealed along with the children, dropped the clipboard and rushing to the front of the crowd that gathered, even pushing a teenage boy out of the way just to make front row. The alpha would have blended right in with the children if he wasn't over six feet tall and wearing red leather.

"It really is Spider-Man! Spider-man heeyyy, Spidey, it's me! It's me, Deadpool! Remember me? We kick ass together and then we, remember? We had a big date but you stood me up and totally didn't break my little heart into a thousand in piece's and I didn't cry at all but you're here now, you're really here."

"Deadpool." Peter greeted him with a nod, keeping it professional. "What's going on here?"

It's a little but of deja vu.

"Oh, this?" Wade hooked his big arms around two little kids and brought them in close in mocking a hug. "Christmas came early and Santa's got a big bag of toys!"

"You're not Santa," one of the boys easily pushed himself out of Wade's grip, stumbling away with his fingers over his nose "and you smell stinky!"

Wade scoffed, "That's cause this Santa is rolling in pure alpha eau de toilette and your little under developed nose doesn't know the difference between the back end of a rhinoceros-rex and a daffodil daydream. "

Peter silently agreed because Wade smelled like the best kind of aromatherapy to him.

"You smell like a burrito farted!"

"Spicy." His alpha agreed unimpressed with the bratty child. "Anyways!" Wade rounded the back of the truck and undid the lock, letting the door fly upwards, relieving boxes over boxes. He started tossing them out, saying "nope, nope," with each one, boxes labeled with toilet paper brand, soaps, Frito Lays, canned good that clattered heavily when they landed.

"Yes! Here we go!" Wade cheered ripping into several boxes, revealing plastic frisbees, ribbon flyers, nerfs guns, balls and stuffed animals.

Peter kept one eye on him as he hopped down and greeted the kids, giving hugs and high fives to them. Other workers came out to help with all the new things, thanking them both profusely. Peter made sure to tell them it was all Wade's doing, having a sense of proudness at Deadpool's good deed.

Until the wind kicked up and corner of the tape peeled away, letting Deadpool's sign flop free, revealing Wally World's Supercenter logo.

"Deadpool?" Peter drawled slowly, watching the last child hurry away to play with their new toy. Wade turned his head faster then an excited puppy hearing his name.

Mustering up his most authoritative sounding voice Peter asked, "Where did all this come from?"

"It's the funniest thing, Webs! Someone just left this whole truck sitting around unattended willy nilly."

It took a second for the words to sink in.

"Don't tell me you stole everything!" He hissed, just when he was thinking better of the man, it was suddenly soiled.

"Oh c'mon! those multi-million turd burglaring bastards factor product loss into their budget! They're just begging someone like me to snatch it right up from under their saggy sacks. It's a victimless crime, Spidey."

"Right, Deadpool, it's a crime." He emphasize the last word.

Wade acted like he's about to protest, like he wanted to defend himself but he gave up, throwing his hands into the hand and turning on his heel in a huff, "Ugghh! Being a hero has so many f*cking rules! No killing, no stealing!'

"Don't forget no explosives, oh and add no grand theft auto to the list." He tacked on, hopping back onto the trucks roof.

Wade whipped back around at him. "You never let me have any fun."

"You're on the right track," Peter assured his alpha. Yeah, he was disappointed but he could see the man was trying in his own sort of Robin Hood like way so he couldn't bring himself too mad about it all. And admittedly, Wade wasn't completely wrong about those big corporate companies but that didn't make it right, nor did he condone it. "I can see you have good intentions and" he sighed, "I believe in you, Deadpool."

The clouds parted and Wade's white eyes widened up at him and seem to sparkle in the sunlight. "That is the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me."

Peter offeres him a smile and added, "And I'm sorry I couldn't meet up with you last time, things got a little crazy for me."

The glimmer suddenly disappeared and Wade seemed to stiffen at words, his brows furrowed through the mask and he looked back both ways over his shoulders. Then he somehow whipped out a gun from those impossibly tight shorts and aimed at his own foot.

A spike of confusion and panic shot through through Peter and he found himself quick drawing a web shot. "What are you doing?!" His voice doing that weird wobbly high pitched thing as he clogged the barrel just as the Wade pulled the tigger with a click.

The gun went off with a pop instead of a bang and nothing more happened.

"Just checking to see if I'm dreaming," His alpha casual tone making Peter even more upset.

"Normal people pinch themselves!"

"Just a little sus is all I'm saying." Wade shrugged and inspected the end of his gun, poking a finger at the web ball that gunked it up.

It hurt Peter to think that Wade thought it was suspicious when someone was nice to him. The nuturing omega side of him yearned to reach out an reassure his alpha that he was worthy of all kindness.

"Nah! who am I kidding, if this was a dream we'd both be verticle and you'd be naked. With less to preferably no children around. Hey, what's this stuff made of anyways? Looks a lot like-"

"It's not! God, Wade." Peter exasperated wanting to rub at his eyes, too tired for all this. Full on Deadpool was a lot. Wade himself was a lot too but when he was just Wade with just Peter there was chill, calm moments inbetween. And he's going to ignore that naked comment. He's not getting peeved over Wade having fantasies about Spider-Man. "Please." He sighed, "Don't hurt yourself."

"Oh, just Wade is fine and you don't need to take me church Spidey, I got 99 problems but healing ain't one. Though, I didn't know we were on first name basis name. Seems a little fair if you ask me. Bet I can guess what yours is though! Aaron, Alan, Abraham, Alfalfa-"

"None of the above." Peter cut in, annoyed at himself for slipping up already. He was trying to keep Wade's name exclusive to Peter and Deadpool to Spider-Man.

While Wade complained about even getting to the B's yet, Peter decided it was probably time to get going before he made many more too tired mistakes.

"Archie, Apollo, Alexie, AJAX?!? nonono, that's not even a real name."

Peter let him continue his name crusade as he stretched out his legs and got ready to swing off.

"Goodbye Deadpool."

"WAIT!" Wade threw himself against the truck, hard enough that it rocked and Peter had to steady himself. He sent Wade a questioning pip of a brow.

"Is it Alejandro?"

Peter's eyes rolled. "No."

"WAIT!" Wade shouted again and leaped towards him and gripped the truck's roof, pulling himself up enough to cross his arms over the top of it and rest his head in them, leaving his body dangling and giving him a good view between Peter's legs from below.

"Nice undercarriage... Wait, wait, don't leave! What about us? Aren't we gonna f*ck someone's sh*t up again? C'mon Spidey, don't leave me hanging."

Peter contemplated what to say for a moment, he had no way of contacting Wade as Spider-Man and he didn't want to set another time where he wouldn't be able to make it again. Going with a simple, "I'll see you, soon." Some how worked best, knowing that he definitely would.

Notes:

May 14 update: Fic not abandoned, I'm just interested in other things right now, will come back eventually! Thanks for reading and waiting patiently. :)

Chapter 15 Notes:

Maybe one day i'll go back and fix all the f*ck up spelling mistakes but it's not today.

Chapter Text

"Wade..." Peter trails off staring down the crinkled brochure for haunted segway tours. They're standing mid isle of a bodega a few blocks away from the F.E.A.S.T. Center where Peter had breakfast with Jerry that morning. It's only been two days since he last saw the alpha. Two days with zero progress on getting his life back together. One day of that was laid up in bed again because he had woken up with a hot flash of heat symptoms and then was too paranoid to leave the abandoned apartment for the rest of the day. The next day he was back to feeling normal and spent too much time as Spider-Man, feeling like he had to make up for the day before as well as clocking in a shift at Pizza Amigo's.

Now he's ignoring the weird hot flash he had and all his responsibilities. He's watching Wade instead, trying to decided if he wants Zotz or Twizzlers. He's already got sour Skittles, hot Takis, and two Monster energy drinks in his hands.

"Wade," Peter likes saying his name, "this is like, two decades old," he's exaggerating but it's definitely from before the Snap. "Are they even in business anymore?"

"Well, sh*tting tit* if I know!" Wade's wearing Peter's own hoodie. It's too tight across the chest, the shoulder seams look like they're about to burst but Peter doesn't even care because Wade looks ridiculous with his mid drift showing, he's wearing a baby blue shirt underneath and even though Peter's already seen him, he's still wearing his Deadpool mask. It's disappointing but Peter will exchange it for the oddly satisfying feeling that his Alpha wanted to trade clothes. Wade's hoodie swamps Peter. It's even larger than the last one and he has a suspicion that Wade just bought it because the insides of it are way too soft to be anything used. He has to keep the sleeves cuffed if he wants to use his hands and he probably looks just as ridiculous as Wade.

"Don't sweat it, baby boy! I got plan a A, B, and C! You done? That all you want?"

Peter looks down at the single sleeve of golden Oreos and carton of strawberry milk in his hands.
On second thought, maybe he should grab a water too.

"What is that?" Wade teases as he leads them to the check out counter, "Do you have the pallet of a five year old? Are you vanilla as those cookies? I bet you only like to eat ham sandwiches and macaroni and cheese."

"Yeah, well, at least my snacks won't give me gut rot like you."

"Oh, you should know Petey, I'm legally dead on the inside." He jokes, dumping his haul onto the counter and greeting the cashier with distracted, "hiya, cute shirt, love it."

"Oh," Peter mimics him. "So, that's what that smell is."

He places his own two things down separately. He eyes the cashier's MLP shirt, not really his thing but the pastel colors are cute. He guesses.

"Haha jokes on you! You like my musk."

Peter chuffs, rolls his eyes and crosses his arms like he doesn't. But his ears and cheeks pinken as he briefly makes eye contact with the cashier. He glances away quickly, feeling shy and embarrassed

"In fact you love it!" Wade cheerfully taunts and suddenly Peter is having a hood being pulled over his head, so big it hangs over his eyes, momentarily blinding him. He whips it off just as quick as it was pulled up to see Wade pushing his items to be rung up with his. The milk and then the Oreos. Beep, beep.

"Wade!" Peter whines, mad because he was totally set on paying for his own things.

"13.69$ please." The man behind the counter says.

Wade giggles and leans down closer to the omega so he can mutter out the side of his mouth, "Nice! 69, that's the horny number."

Peter pushes him away stubbornly, "I wanted to pay for that."

"Oh, I know, Petey!" Wade straightens up, smiling while he pulls out his wallet. "But he just grabbed them all on his own and now he's taking my money and I can't stop him, Petey!"

The cashier doesn't even look at them, totally unamused at his customers antic's as he process' the transaction. He bags the snacks and drinks into a brown paper sack and pushes them forward with a unenthused,"Have a good day."

"And a very pony day to you too!" Wade chirps and drops his change into the take a penny, leave a penny. Peter grabs their bag with only a little bit of grump that's almost instantly washed away when Wade ushers him towards the door with his big arm slung around Peter's own smaller shoulders. He heats up a little being so close to his alpha, pressed side to side. The weight of his beefy arm almost makes him want to purr. He inhales instead, deeply and more obvious than he meant too because Wade glances down at him with a all knowing smirk. Somehow, Peter knows he's smirking through his mask.

The alpha doesn't tease him this time though, he just shifts his arm a little so he had a better hold of him and somehow pulls him impossibly closer as they almost awkwardly fit through the door in a sort of side shuffle.

The light autumn chill eases Peter's warm cheeks. Which makes being tucked into Wade's warm body even better. He's secretly really happy at such a little thing. Everything is going so naturally he almost wonders what he was so hung up on in the first place. Almost. If it wasn't for that red and black mask. Peter wishes he would take it off.

"Wade?"

"S'up?" Wade's white eyes turn and blink down at him. Peter desperately wishes they were blue. But he couldn't bring himself to ask the alpha to reveal himself if he wasn't comfortable. And that made him sad.

Apparently Wade notices this because they're stopping.

"What's wrong, baby boy?" His alpha's tone quickly dips into something slightly concerned and Peter's shoulder is being gently squeezed and a big hand is rubbing his arm up and down. Wade was too good at reading him.

"It's nothing!" Peter pushes smile up at him. The alpha continued to eye him for another moment, it always makes Peter twitchy when he does that, he still doubts if Wade has some sort of mind reading powers because somehow he just knows.

Then without warning, a second big arm comes wrapping around him and Peter's feet are lifted off the ground as Wade bear hugs him to death. Both shocked and delighted the omega actually squeels and giggles.

"What the heck, Wade!" He laughs, "You're crushing the food!"

"20 second hugs releases that good oxytocin and you still got TEN MORE!"

Peter grins and takes it with zero complaints. It was for science after all and he happily doesn't mind it when Wade tries to huff his scent either, he's almost a little regretful he's covered in blockers but what can he do?

The hug definitely lasts for more than 20 seconds, it went on until Wade's hold gradually lessened until it was back to being just one arm around his shoulders, leading him down the side walk again with lessened worries.

"Wait, where are we going anyways?" Peter stops rummaging through the bag to ask, he just realized he'd been following Wade's lead all this time without question.

"Oh, you'll see~" The alpha sings and says "Just eat your boring ass cookies and let Daddy handle the rest."

The Fickle Finger of Fate - Alonelylover - Spider-Man (2024)

Chapter 1

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Chapter 2

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Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

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Chapter 5

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Chapter 6

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Chapter 7

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Chapter 8

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Chapter 9

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Chapter 10

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Chapter 11

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Chapter 12

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Chapter 13

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Chapter 14

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Chapter 15

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