Peter woke up groggily and with an extended moan. Even with his healing factor, he still ached a little. It should go away by the time he went back to work that night, but it likely wouldn’t get rid of the oddly empty feeling inside of him. Feeling empty after a knotting was something that happened in romance novels. What the hell was he doing feeling like that?
Stupid Deadpool. Him and his damn all night rut marathon. Who had that kind of refractory period? It was insane. By the time Peter had limped his way downstairs at the brothel, he didn’t feel a single bit bad for the amount of money Deadpool had left.
The sight of Peter, in pain, unable to stop leaking cum from his ass, and covered in hickeys, cured the other workers, though. They had no desire to seek Deadpool out, no matter how much money the mercenary offered. That was the one bright spot in an otherwise exhausting night.
Well, Peter pretended like that was the only good part, but the truth was… He had never had such good sex in his life. It felt blasphemous to say, being an omega who had just been paid to spend a night with a dangerous alpha in rut. And yet… After so many rounds, Peter could no longer deny it to himself.
He had enjoyed what Deadpool had given.
But so what? So Deadpool had skills in the bedroom. It made sense, given his appearance. He probably worked long and hard to find ways to make up for it so that he could still get laid. Besides, Peter deserved to have a night go well for once.
He enjoyed it, but that didn’t change his position in life. A good dicking didn’t magically cure his problems. It was just a single night of surprising luck in a long string of nights where life continued to shit on him. Hardly a life changing experience.
Peter just needed to forget about it and move on. It wasn’t like he’d ever see the merc again. There was no point in continuing to ponder over the confusing supervillain. Peter had more important things in life to focus on.
By the time Peter had showered and walked downstairs, he felt infinitely better. Aunt May greeted him excitedly. “Oh, Peter! Good news! I have a friend looking for a tutor for her grandchild.”
“Oh?” Peter did his best to sound interested. It wasn’t like he’d get the job. Nobody liked hiring omega tutors.
“A sweet little middle school girl. She’s having trouble with algebra.”
“I’d be happy to meet with her.” Peter smiled, resigning himself to coddling Aunt May.
“Oh, good! I’ll let her know as soon as I can.”
It wasn’t that omegas never ended up teachers, but they were usually trapped in positions that were less about teaching, and more about childcare. So preschool through early elementary school were about all the options they had. Assuming their alphas would even let them work that long.
Assuming they were allowed to get a teaching license in the first place. Peter picked at his food, thoughts of his dream college racing through his mind. It had been a long time since he had obsessed over what happened all those years ago, but ever since the visit from the neighbor the day before, Peter kept catching himself thinking of it.
Stupid nosey old neighbors.
“You feeling okay, dear?”
Peter blinked, bringing himself back into the present. “Yeah, sorry, I just stayed up too late… reading.”
Aunt May tsked at him. “You have to remember to take care of yourself. You better be eating properly when you’re out at your jobs.”
“Of course I am!” Peter smiled at her. “I make sure to take the secret shopper jobs at restaurants. Free food is the best food.”
She just laughed and shook her head at him as he forced himself to finish his meal. She was right about one thing: he needed to eat in order to compensate for his healing factor. Otherwise, he’d be dead on his feet at work that night.
Peter stumbled to a halt in the entry room at Momma Alex’s. They usually didn’t have clients this early, so Peter hadn’t been expecting to see anyone sprawled on the overstuffed couch. He especially didn’t expect to see a certain black and red clad mercenary.
“There he is!” Deadpool excitedly jumped to his feet. “I hope you’re free tonight, Taker.”
“Ceveo,” Peter corrected.
Peter flicked his eyes over to an unsure looking Alex, and then back to the excitable Deadpool. “Are you still in rut?”
“It’s lingering a little…” Deadpool dodged a direct answer, making Peter fight off a frown.
“I’ll go get ready.” Peter forced a smile on his face as he sauntered past in order to head to the back. He needed to put away his things, clean up, prep, and get changed into something more appropriate.
“I don’t mind you being all dirty, Baby Boy.”
Peter couldn’t believe the man. How many times did Deadpool frequent the same worker? He could ruin someone’s ass that way. They were lucky that Peter was who he was and could handle it. Was this what made Deadpool dangerous? He acted like he wanted to please the other person, but in the end, he just obsessed over someone until they broke.
It made Peter sick just to think about it. He quickened his pace, wanting to get Deadpool upstairs and out of sight before his eyes fell on any further victims.
It was the quickest prep of Peter’s life, and in no time flat, he had them up in his designated room. Deadpool was all hands at the onset, squeezing Peter’s ass and squishing them against each other. Peter just calmly went along with it, wondering how long things would last that night.
“You know,” Deadpool mused. “I had a suspicion.”
“Of what?” Peter ran his hands along the leather of Deadpool’s suit. “You’re still very covered up.”
Deadpool massaged Peter’s ass a little harder, studying Peter’s purposefully sultry look. “You have a healing factor.”
Peter stopped breathing and his hands froze. What? Why would Deadpool even say that? What was he basing that on?
As if reading Peter’s thoughts, Deadpool pressed his face against Peter’s ear. “Your ass should be too sensitive for me to do this. Not the mention, the marks I left on you are almost gone.”
Peter panicked, shoving Deadpool away with too much strength. True to his reputation, Deadpool was agile enough to go with it and ended up behind Peter in an instant, trying to pin his arms down. Spider sense flared, giving him the split second he needed to get out of the way. He jumped, sticking himself to the ceiling, looking for a way out.
“Ha! I knew it!” Deadpool stopped trying to go after Peter and his spider sense died down completely. Instead, Deadpool just crossed his arms and looked smug. “You’re a mutant.”
“I’m not a mutant.” Because, well, he technically wasn’t.
Deadpool looked disbelieving even through his mask. “Looks pretty mutant-y to me.”
Peter crawled backwards along the ceiling, trying to get some distance between them. “What do you want?”
“Hm? Nothin’. I was just curious.”
“You attacked me because you were curious?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Deadpool held his hands up in surrender. “I was only trying to test your reflexes. I didn’t think you’d panic so much.”
Peter dropped to the floor, and then stood up slowly and cautiously. “So now what?”
“No need to be so suspicious.” Deadpool grinned. “Now that I know you can handle all of me, we can have lots of sex!”
“People usually can’t handle going all night like you did.”
Peter tried to wrap his mind around what the man was insinuating. “How often are you planning to take up my whole night?”
Deadpool shrugged. “As often as I can. That’s a great deal for you, yeah? Lots of dough.”
There was a surprised pause at that. “What? Why not?” Suddenly, Deadpool’s good cheer crumpled. “Is it the skin?”
“What? No.” Peter shook his head to clear it. “I can’t be busy that often.”
“You got regulars?” Deadpool guessed.
“No, I have to…” but Peter wasn’t sure how much detail he should give about his job.
“Ohhh, you take the bad clients, yeah? I hear that’s pretty common.”
Peter blinked at Deadpool, unsure of how to handle him knowing so much about the omega sex industry. “If you understand, then you can set up appointments with me.”
Deadpool pouted, and it was a sight to see through the mask. “But why?” he whined. “Aren’t I better than the other assholes?”
“That’s not the point. If you book me every night, that leaves everyone else in trouble.”
“Now you sound like a superhero.” Deadpool propped his hands on his hips, giving Peter a look.
Peter averted his eyes, unable to handle that comment and the memories it evoked. “I’m just trying to keep my coworkers safe.”
Deadpool tapped a finger against his lips. It seemed he was someone that was always in some form of constant motion. “Hmm… So if all the bad clients went away…”
“What?” Peter’s eyes went wide. “No!”
“Why not?” Deadpool sounded exasperated with Peter’s continued efforts to thwart his plans.
“Because you’ll kill them! That’s what you do!”
“Don’t ‘so’ me! You can’t just go around killing entitled alphas. There won’t be any left in the world!”
Deadpool laughed. “You’re feisty. I like that.” He sauntered closer and Peter told himself that he should be afraid, that he should be keeping his distance from a man casually offering to kill countless people, but… Peter didn’t feel a single bit concerned for his safety. “What if I just scare them off? Compromise?”
“You’ll end up scaring off all the clients. You gonna financially support this whole brothel?”
“You have a savior complex.”
“And you’re selfish.”
“Meh.” Deadpool seemed unconcerned about the assessment of his character. “I’m just good at getting what I want, and what I want, is you.”
“Why?” That was something that was genuinely baffling Peter. Healing factor or not, Deadpool had the funds to hire much better omegas than Peter.
“I’ll answer that question if you answer mine.”
Peter didn’t agree, he just eyed Deadpool dubiously. He wasn’t about to make any promises if he didn’t like the question. Deadpool moved forward until he was in Peter’s space, his presence making Peter’s skin tingle.
“Why are you working here?”
That was a stupid question that only an alpha would ask. “The same reason as everyone else: circumstance.”
“Nooo, I want your story.”
Peter shook his head. There was no way he was divulging the details of his life to Deadpool of all people. Not that he even let himself think about it, much less talk about it to anyone else. He had no interest in whatever game Deadpool was playing.
“Then the day you tell me your story is the day I explain why I’m so invested in you.”
“And in the meantime?”
“In the meantime, I give you money, we have sex, and I prove I can make this place profit without any killing and without anyone getting hurt.”
“Baby Boy, I have learned a lot of skills over the years. You should put a little more faith in me.” Deadpool took hold of Peter’s hips and pulled them forward, grinding their crotches together. “And for right now, how about I show you a good time?”
“Isn’t that my line?”
“I’ll concede that line when you’re better than me in bed.”
Peter narrowed his eyes, the dig flaring his competitive spirit to life. “I look forward to making you tap out, Mr. Pool.”
A fierce grin spread across Deadpool’s face. “That’s the spirit.”
Three hours later found Peter on his knees with his ass in the air and his hands pinned above his head. For all his talk about wearing Deadpool out, Peter was the one struggling to keep up with back to back marathons. Not to mention, unlike the night before, Deadpool didn’t ease up on the pace and intensity.
“You can always beg me to go slower.” Deadpool’s smirk was loud and clear, daring Peter to give in first.
“Like hell,” Peter growled and slammed his hips back to meet Deadpool’s thrust. They both groaned at the feeling of that. Deadpool recovered first, of course, and kicked things up a notch.
It was like the man had an unerring ability to find Peter’s prostate and overstimulate it. Peter’s legs were trembling and his eyes kept rolling back in his head of their own accord. Little trails of spit dripped down his chin and onto the sheets. The slap, slap, slap of skin caused Peter’s drooling cock to bounce, drawing attention to it.
The point of Deadpool holding Peter’s hands in place was to keep him from grabbing his needy cock. Deadpool promised that if Peter kept giving into that impulse, it would end up too sensitive to touch. This left Peter all but whining in need, but he refused to mention it. Saying something would be akin to giving in.
And he wasn’t about to give in.
Deadpool grunted and shuddered, his hips stilling. Peter could feel the warmth of another load of cum spreading along his raw insides. Deadpool’s knot wasn’t nearly so prominent as it had been the day before, and he seemed to have more control over his impulses, because he didn’t push it into Peter.
Normally, Peter would have insisted, just to prove he had the upper hand, but after three hours of non-stop sex, he was grateful for Deadpool’s courtesy.
They stayed still for a blissfully long time, Deadpool’s cock finally softening some. They were both panting and sweating like crazy. Deadpool leaned over and licked a long line up Peter’s spine, causing a violent shudder, making them both moan.
“Is…” Peter sucked in another breath of air, trying to force his body to obey his commands. “Is that all you’ve got?”
“I’m starting to think you’re a masochist,” Deadpool chuckled.
“I’m starting to think you’re all talk.”
Deadpool dropped his weight onto Peter’s back, pressing his face close to the other man’s ear. “Yeah? Then how about a wager.”
Peter closed his eyes, resisting the urge to writhe against the feel of Deadpool’s body. “Go on.”
Large hands gripped Peter’s legs and pulled them down, forcing him to lay on his stomach, his body pressed firmly into the mattress. It was the first time there had been any kind of touch on his cock for hours. He moaned at the feeling of it. His cockhead so sensitive, he could practically name the thread count of the sheets.
“I’m gonna fuck you just like this, nice and slow, and if you don’t cum, I’ll let you fuck me .”
Peter’s eyes went wide in shock. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying. I’ve done it before.” Deadpool chuckled, watching Peter’s face. “You’re so surprised.”
“I get that you’ve met the worst kind of alphas in your life, but let’s not eliminate those out there who enjoy their kinks.” Deadpool nipped at Peter’s earlobe. “You up to the challenge?”
“Yes.” Peter having a chance to fuck an alpha? No way in hell he was passing that up.
“I thought you would be.”
Then Deadpool was moving again, slowly rocking his hips in a gentle swaying motion that dragged firmly yet softly over Peter’s abused prostate. Peter hissed at the feeling of it, his hips involuntarily jerking against the sheets. Suddenly, he doubted how well he’d succeed in this challenge.
The firm press of Deadpool’s hips moved Peter just enough to cause the slightest friction against his cock, trapped as it was between damp sheets and firm body. With every slow stroke inside of him, a bolt of pleasure lit up his nerves, and it was compounded by the barely there stroking on his thus far untouched cock.
“Aw, poor Baby Boy,” Deadpool whispered. “You need it so bad, don’t you?”
“Fuck you,” Peter breathed, biting at his lip and yelling at his body to calm down.
Another slow rocking of hips, another flare of too intense pleasure, another hitch of breath. The tight heat in his core kept building higher without his permission. His cock twiched and his hips jerked, wanting more stimulation when he kept telling himself not to seek it out.
“You like being fucked soft and slow,” Deadpool purred. “Do you enjoy being treated gentle?”
“Don’t…” but Peter’s voice cut off with a gasp and a whine as he tried not to grind himself against the bed and failed.
The problem was, Deadpool wasn’t wrong. Peter had rarely been treated gentle during his life, and especially not by other alphas. It was an intoxicating feeling, and something he truly felt would never happen, which only served to compound his body’s reaction to it. A rare delicacy that only he was privy to. Something his body never expected to experience. It was heady.
Deadpool purposefully rocked his hips as slow as he could, dragging along Peter’s sloppy wet insides. The feeling of such a large body draped over him should have felt suffocating and restraining, but it didn’t. It felt comforting and warm, like a heavy quilt pulled around you on a cold morning.
Stupid alpha pheromones telling Peter to feel relaxed and safe. Stupid contrary alpha being gentle and slow. Stupid omega body responding to it all tenfold.
Deadpool mouthed along the skin of Peter’s neck, scraping his teeth without biting, suckling without pain, licking as if Peter tasted like heaven. Deadpool groaned, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating along Peter’s torso. There was a more insistent snap of hips, but Deadpool didn’t cum, just enjoyed the feeling of being buried in Peter.
The still deflating knot pressed against Peter’s ass, but didn’t sink inside. He wanted it to. He wanted to stop being treated so well. He wanted to pain to help pull him back from the brink. But most disturbingly, he wanted to feel the knot because the omega in him was keening for it.
“Fuck.” Peter pressed his face further into the sheets. His mind was going crazy; his body was insistent. He was on the edge and desperate for more.
Deadpool pressed into Peter hard, hard enough that the knot was a demanding presence against the ring of muscle still keeping it back. Scarred hips swirled around, grinding Peter against the mattress in barely there circles. Peter groaned, his hands clutching tight to the cotton below him.
“It’s okay to want it,” Deadpool breathed, voice thick with lust. “It’s okay to take it.”
Peter hips jerked, thrusting into the hard press of his own body and then back against Deadpool’s impossibly inexhaustible cock. Pleasure soared sky high and he couldn’t think through it. It sat in his mind like thick cotton as his body temperature spiked, his skin feeling too hot for comfort. He panted into the sheets as his hips jerked with what little movement they could obtain, again and again.
“That’s it. Take what you want.”
That damn voice was like a devil on his shoulder, but he was too far gone to worry about the implications of that. Another long slide against his tender insides, another desperate jerk of his hips, another choked gasp of air. Peter forgot why he was fighting it, convinced himself it was okay, and started chasing after his denied release.
Peter’s body tensed up and he groaned, shaking with blissful climax. It spilled hot and wet in a slowly spreading puddle below him. Another deep noise of pleasure rumbled through his back, followed by a spike of sensation as Deadpool thrust in harder than normal. Then even more seed was spilling into Peter, filling him up, leaving him satisfied in his mindless and floating state of post orgasmic euphoria.
“You’re so good,” Deadpool breathed, fingers running through damp locks of hair as Peter continued to twitch at the feeling of flesh still pressing against all the sensitive places inside of him. “You’re so perfect.”
Peter preened, a purr pulling up and out of his chest instinctively. He liked being praised. Later, when he wasn’t so drunk on endorphins, he’d be angry with himself. But right in that moment, he could forget about the rest of the world and his own problems, and just bask in the moment.
“Don’t worry,” Deadpool cooed. “We can play as many games as you like until you win. I want you to win.”
A content smiled pulled at Peter’s lips and he hummed happily. He wanted to win, too.
A week later, Deadpool showed up at the brothel looking rather proud of himself. He made a point to speak to Alex about how the shop was doing. Peter wasn’t sure how the man had managed it, but business was doing well, and they hadn’t had a single black list alpha show up at their door. To add to that, no strange alpha murders or disappearances had popped up on the news.
Despite the easy week Peter had, he had come to work in an unfortunately bad mood, so Deadpool’s smug attitude only set Peter on edge. Though he didn’t praise or acknowledge what had been done for the brothel, Deadpool seemed perfectly happy to just pat himself on the back instead of being told what a good job he did.
That bugged Peter as well, for reasons he didn’t quite want to analyze.
“Sooo?” Deadpool wheedled. “Can I book you for the night?”
Peter stared at him for a long moment. “If someone bad comes in, I have to take them, even if we’re in the middle of something.”
Alex frowned as she watched their exchange. An omega had just told an alpha that he would leave for a different alpha in the middle of sex. That should have set anyone off, especially full of themselves alphas — especially a supervillain mercenary.
Deadpool, however, merely grinned. “Done deal, Uke.”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “Ceveo.”
“If you insist.”
Whatever this was between them, it was still a job, and Peter should still be acting like the professional he was. Yet, something about Deadpool caused Peter’s true ornery personality to surface every time. The more Deadpool ignored the snarky little remarks the omega made, the more Peter wanted to see how far he could push.
Which was insane. Deadpool was a well known murderer. What is wrong with you? Peter yelled at himself.
Once the door was shut to Peter’s room, Deadpool collapsed onto the chair, in seemingly no hurry to get things started. In defiance, Peter stripped his shirt off and pointedly tossed it on the floor. Deadpool didn’t seem to even acknowledge that.
“What are you in the mood for?” Peter asked, crawling up to straddle Deadpool’s lap. Leather covered hands appreciatively stroked over Peter’s bare skin.
“You’re upset,” Deadpool pointed out, like they were just friends chatting over coffee. “What happened?”
Peter sighed and dropped his head back to look at the ceiling, praying for strength. “Why does it matter?”
“You don’t want to talk about it?”
“No, I don’t want to talk about my personal life with a client.”
Deadpool pouted. “I thought we were friends already.”
“What does it matter to you anyways? You think you can just run off like an alpha in shining armor and fix my problems?”
Deadpool scoffed. “As if you’d let me.”
That caused Peter to look back down at the man below him. He reached out for that damned ever present mask to pull it off. He didn’t like being wheedled for personal information while Deadpool was still able to hide. The man flinched out of habit, but ultimately allowed Peter to pull the thing off and toss it to the side.
“Feel better?” Deadpool questioned.
“Why do you want to know so much about my life?”
“That’s what friends do!”
“Says the person who hasn’t told me a damn thing about himself.”
Deadpool smirked, accepting the challenge. “The name’s Wade Winston Wilson. I come from the great province of Saskatchewan. Born human, went into the military, dishonorable discharge, got cancer, got experimented on, went crazy, then gained a bunch of fancy powers and a terrible new look.”
Peter’s eyes went wide. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die, but I can’t, because I’m practically immortal.”
After studying Deadpool’s face for a long while, Peter finally decided it was the truth. Either that, or Wade was a very good liar. Still, it seemed pointless to lie in such a situation. How would any information, truthful or not, be of any use to Peter?
“Fine…” Peter grumbled. “I was offered a tutoring job.”
“You don’t like tutoring?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “They turned me away the moment they met me.”
“Why?” Deadpool seemed genuinely confused, and that just proved to anger Peter even more.
“Because I’m an omega, and omegas are dumb and useless, remember? Not to mention I’m male, and all male omegas are sluts.” Peter waved at the small space between them. “Obviously. So, of course, I’d be a bad influence on their precious child, and just scamming them for money since I couldn’t possibly be well educated with only a high school degree.”
“Sexist assholes,” Deadpool replied with feeling. Peter was stunned. Never, in his entire life, had he heard an alpha so adamantly agree with an omega’s plight. “Don’t look so surprised! What do you take me for?”
Deadpool snorted. “Well, it may take me some time, but I’ll prove you wrong about me.”
“There are easier people out there to convince.”
“Yeah, but none as lively as you.” Deadpool grinned. Peter just rolled his eyes. Those thick gloved hands slid down to grip Peter’s ass. “You all prepped and ready to go? Let me fuck the stress right out of you.”
“You think highly of yourself.”
“You know I can follow through. Don’t pretend.”
Peter did know that, but he wasn’t about to admit it. He didn’t even want to admit it to himself, much less out loud. “Perhaps you should leave these things to the professionals.”
“If I had the right looks, I could be a professional, too, ya know.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Peter absently replied as he displayed his flexibility by shucking his too tight shorts without leaving the chair.
“Mmm, I love it when you show off.”
“You’re easy to please,” Peter sassed as he pulled Wade’s cock out of his pants, noting how hard it was already.
“Well, at least we’re both aware of that.”
Peter couldn’t stop the smirk on his face as he sank down onto Wade’s cock. “I want you to just sit there and let me do what I want to you. Think you can handle that?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”
Peter rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Wade’s shoulders. “We’ve known each other for a week.”
“And what a week it’s be-eeeeeeen…” Wade moaned as Peter lifted up and slammed back down.
Well, Peter could agree with that. Since Deadpool had popped up in Peter’s life, things had certainly been out of the norm. At least the sex wasn’t so bad. With that thought, Peter set up grueling pace that he knew for certain only his body could handle. May as well show off.