Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In my life, surprises were typically a bad thing. I never really knew what would increase my heart rate enough to have The Big Guy coming out. So, when Peter walked into my lab, it was technically there for all of the Avengers to use but I mainly occupied it, though I was sometimes accompanied by other science minded superhumans and Tony, as he tended to do when he was bored and we didn't have a mission, dressed as he usually was, but smelling sweetly and strongly of OMEGA , I was... perplexed and... agitated .

“Hey, Dr. Banner! I was hoping I could wa-?”

“No, nope, nein,” I said, shoving my chair back and against the wall as Peter got closer. “Excuse me for being so crass, Peter, but what the Hell? Why is your scent suddenly telling me you're an Omega?”

The teen chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his neck. I followed the movement with my eyes, suddenly transfixed though I didn't understand why, it didn't feel like me, and I noticed the small bruises on his neck, hickeys to be sure. Something in my gut but not really, I recognized the surge of rage and different pheromones, twisted with petulant anger. The feeling I used to get as a kid when someone else got the hottest new toy before I could. Green with envy was the phrase, wasn't it? “Well, uhm, because I am one? I'm a late bloomer, I guess, and when I had to deal with the guy with the new Omega drug, some of it got on me and it forced me into Heat.”

I frowned at him, crossing my arms and biting the inside of my cheek. “That must've been quite the shock,” I said softly, gently, because I was born an Omega and will always be one, “are you ok?”

He smiled crookedly, obviously trying to look cool but practically glowing under my concerned, parental gaze. “Yeah, it’s no big deal. I wasn't really all there so the four days went by really fast. Deadpool helped me out a lot though. He helped bring me home.”

“...Deadpool?”

“Uh huh.”

“As in...Wade Wilson?”

“Yes?”

“Impulsive Alpha Wade Wilson helped you get home without… without…”

“Oh...oh! No! No, he didn't...I mean...He didn't take advantage of me,” Peter said as a blush wove its way up his neck and I could feel my own skin start to heat up at the awkwardness of what was happening. I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. Like I was his dad or something.

“If he -uh- does, make sure to tell Tony or Steve, alright? Or Natasha. They’re sure to do something…”

He smiled dorkily and, once again, I felt The Other Guy roll around in my gut, attention drawn. Quickly, I pushed down whatever he was feeling and smiled neutrally back at Peter. “Thanks, Dr. Banner,” he said, before wisely leaving my lab so I could breathe easily once again.

 Most people thought that, when The Other Guy came out, I left completely. To put it better, it was like I was a passenger in a car, an out of body experience; I could only watch, unable to do anything...it was only when The Other Guy got really angry and things started to go down hill that I was shoved into darkness but that seemed to be happening less and less these days, making me wonder if it was The Hulk pulling the metaphorical wool over my eyes or my own psyche. Either way, the rest of the Avengers and myself were put in charge of saving New York from complete and total annihilation, for what seemed the hundredth time, and The Other Guy was once again out and smashing things. He wasn't his usual self, not a care in the world except for his rage and the brief respite to it that came with smashing things beneath his fists; instead, he would stop and look for Peter every few seconds, keeping the teen in his line of sight at all times. I tried to convince him that Peter was fine, he may have been an Omega but he was a superhuman first, but like always logic did nothing to appease the green giant.

Peter swung above our heads on a web, kicking ass and taking names as he liked to put it, when an alien launched itself at his back. The Other Guy let out a terrifying roar and a growl, picking up another alien and tossing it at the one by Peter. The Omega spun around in the air, attaching himself to the jetpack of another alien. “Thanks, big guy!” the teen called, voice lilting in the way it did when he was amused and I could hear the smile in his voice. The Hulk, only consisting of base instincts, didn't understand that Peter was amused by him using an alien as a weapon, only understanding that what he had done had made the Omega happy. He practically preened, going back to punching and tossing aliens with renewed vigor. Things would've been fine like that, even distracted Hulk was a force to be reckoned with, but, eventually, as all things do in these types of situations, all Hell broke loose and it happened in the worst of ways.

An uncountable amount of aliens were on top of Hulk, working together to keep him pinned and at bay, when I heard Peter yell a loud, pained, “Fuck!” Hulk turned, an answering growl instinctually rumbling in his chest, only to see Peter pinned to a brick wall, an alien’s spear having gone through his hand and into the wall, the alien was perched above Peter’s body, jaws snapping at his face. With his free hand, Peter webbed the alien’s mouth shut, kicking it away with his legs as he struggled to get the spear out using his less dominant hand. Hulk roared, angered by the sight of an Omega in pain and struggled to get to Peter’s side, though the aliens were doing a good job at slowing him down.

The only thought in his mind was “protect, protect” and, if I had even a little bit of control of the giant green thing that was my alter ego, I would’ve tried to reason with him. Peter was not helpless and the level of panic and rage that I could feel thrumming in the veins that I shared with the Hulk was unwarranted; the situation needed logic, patience and reasoning.

All three things the Hulk was terrible at.

We heard Peter scream as an alien’s teeth clamped down on his forearm, tearing through the fabric of his costume and, therefore, breaking through the barrier that kept his smell from wafting out and alerting people to his second sex and his identity. The smell only made everything so much worse. The awful, alarming scent of an Omega in pain -worse, it was from an Omega we knew -filled the air and reached us; the smell, familiar and reaching at both sets of instincts, made us feel as if our brains were short circuiting for a second. For once, the Other Guy and I were on the same page as the instinctual urge to protect hit the both of us. For me, it was more because...well...Peter was like a little brother, he was family, and it was the older Omega’s job to protect the younger one; for the Hulk’s protectiveness, however, came from an Alpha’s desire to protect what was his, especially a potential mate -regardless of my sentimentality, in the end, Peter was not related to me by blood, making him a fabulous candidate for mating.

Peter kicked the alien away, only to have another one grab at his ankles. Panic flooded his smell and Hulk began crushing bones in his rush to get to Peter’s side. I could see the moment the teen realized that there were too many for him to handle, especially with one of his hands impaled, able to see his face contorting below the fabric of his mask. He kicked away another alien that tried to sink its teeth into his flesh and yelled, which was accompanied by a wave of Omega pheromones that screamed “HELP ME! I’M IN PAIN! SAVE ME!” , loud enough for his voice to ring over the sound of chaos, “Wade! Alpha, help me, please!”

For a moment everything seemed to fall silent and still, falling away as Peter’s pheromones hit the Hulk and his muscles tensed with the urge to do what Peter bid. Immediately after they dissipated, moving further into the crowd and the chaos, a strong, pungent wave of Alpha pheromones answered Peter’s. It was dark, gritty and screamed of violent, unforgiving rage, a rage of an Alpha who’s Omega was just compromised, a rage that not even the Hulk could match on his best day. Screams and gunshots filled the air and we -the Hulka and I -could only stare in awe and shock as Deadpool emerged through the fallen, bloodied bodies of the aliens, throwing a grenade at the horde that chased after him, only to begin to clumsily scale the brick building, relying on loose bricks and aliens for leverage and “stepping stones”. With a possessive growl, Deadpool cut off the head of the alien snapping its jaws at Peter’s neck -a move that was probably meant to kill him immediately, as predatory animals did in the wild, but ended up having the double meaning of a forced bonding, something the alien positively had no knowledge of -and shot a few more in the head, not even pausing when a few of them managed to sink their teeth into his shoulder and thigh.

Peter let out more distressed pheromones as Deadpool lost his left leg, finally spurring Hulk into action. With a mighty roar and a growl, the green guy ripped away the aliens that chewed and clung to him, launching himself in the air and coming down to punch at the ground. A shockwave, which could be compared to a small to medium sized earthquake, rippled through the asphalt and concrete, shaking the building Peter was pinned to and causing the unsuspecting aliens to plummet to the ground and the rubble that awaited them.

Deadpool, when it came to Peter, was apparently not an idiot. He quickly ripped the spear from the Omega’s hand before cradling the teen’s body to his chest; with Peter’s uninjured hand, he webbed them to safety, though it ended up being Deadpool doing most of the leg work. As they swung past, the Other Guy and Deadpool made eye contact, the mercenary growling and snarling, holding Peter tightly. The statement was obvious. Deadpool was stating his claim, telling the Hulk in no uncertain terms, though no words were spoken, “Peter is mine. This Omega is mine. I will not give him up. Challenge me and I will separate your head from your shoulders.”

Hulk saw this and accepted this, simply returning to the simple, yet pleasurable activity of demonstrating to new beings that he was Alpha, he was stronger than them. Though the Hulk was never… happy, per say, or content, I felt something very close to those feelings come from him and I couldn’t help but picture myself gently petting the creature’s head and praising him. Yes, our Peter was safe and we could therefore return to what we were best at.

“You should be healed in about a week,” I told Peter, watching him flex his injured hand, “For now I suggest no hero activities.” 

“...Are you telling me, Petey’s finally getting a vacation?” Deadpool asked, dressed in civilian clothes just like the Omega he was with, only he looked a lot sketchier with the lengths he took to block out the view of his skin.
“For a week,” I stressed, eyeballing the teen who only nodded in understanding. “And don't do anything… strenuous with that hand."

“Yes, Dr. Banner…” he mumbled, mostly drowned out by his Alpha’s loud cackling, “thanks…”

“No problem, Peter,” I said, unable to resist running my fingers through his fluffy brown hair and petting him, “Be good and take care of yourself, alright?”

He hummed, leaning into the calming strokes of my hand and rubbing the scent glands in his jaw against my fingers, a gesture usually reserved for an older Omega a younger Omega looked up to. I had seen Peter and the Black Widow do such an exchange -though I had only seen it in passing, it was an intimate gesture and to watch would be rude -but I had never thought he’d do the same with me. The knowledge made my heart skip a beat, parental Omega love oozing out of me in the shape of a pheromone wave. The teen cuddled up to me further, making Deadpool stiffen and the Other Guy perk up from where he lazed in my psyche.

“Uhm, Pete, I think we should get going…”

“Oh, and Deadpool?”

“Yeah...?”

“For once the Other Guy and I are on the same page,” I said as I removed my glasses and put them in my lab coat pocket, the comment gaining confused looks from everyone in the room. I could even feel the Hulk’s confusion as he nudged me to explain. “If you hurt Peter we will pummel you so thoroughly there will be nothing left of you to heal.”

Hulk growled happily, enjoying the appalled expression that passed on Deadpool’s face.

“Don't worry, Jolly Green Giant, I'll take care of Peter,” the mercenary said, wrapping his arms around his blushing Omega and nuzzling into his hair, “I’ll protect him no matter what. He's mine.”

“I see. Well, go on then. Enjoy your week long vacation,” I said with a wave as the man who resembled the spawn of two hate fucking avocados dragged Peter out of my lab and to the elevators (probably).

I sat down on my stool, leaning back against the explosion proof, glass walls and sighing. For once, everything in my head was quiet, my two natures somehow having found a balance even for this small, brief moment.

That is until the door suddenly banged open and Tony rushed in. “Let's build a thermal reactor out of toy race car parts!”

I grinned, my heart beat picking back up again, “Hell, yes.”

Chapter Text

“How’s your hand, Peter?”

“Oh, it’s a lot better. It should be healed in at least another week,” I said, drying the dishes as Aunt May washed, stacking them on the counter so I could put them away later, “Thankfully I can still be in robotics and track. If I had hurt my foot or something, I’d be miserable.”

“Speaking of school, are you interested in anyone?”

I blushed, trying to hide my face from my aunt but I caught her knowing smile out of the corner of my eye. “I… maybe.”

“Maybe, he says,” she laughed, turning off the sink and drying her hands with a paper towel, “I want you to invite him over for dinner next Saturday.”

“Uh...that’s probably not-?”

“What is it?”

“Well… he’s older than I am and, uh, well, he’s not… I mean, he looks-.”

“Is he one of those superhumans I keep hearing about on the news?”

“...yes, actually.”

“Oh, you know those things don’t matter to me, Peter,” she said, kissing my cheek, “Would it be the boy that brought you home and practically ran away from me during your Heat?”

“Yeah. His name is Wade,” I admitted, leaning into her body, having to bend down to rest my cheek on the top of her greying hair, “He’s… he comes across as a jerk but he’s really good to me. I… want him to be my Alpha, Aunt May.”

“Oh, my. So things are serious between you two?”

I nodded as her arms came up to hug my waist, making me feel like a little kid again.

“Then you’re going to invite him to dinner, there’s no question, he’ll watch a movie with us and spend the night in the guest room. How about it?”

I nuzzled into her hair, inhaling the scent I’ve known since childhood, it was Omega and something purely Aunt May -lavender, thyme and fresh sugar cookies. “Ok, if you say so.”

“I do.”

“Why am I doing this?”

“Didn't you just brag about all the movies you watch? Don't you know what happens when the sweet, delicate” -Wade scoffed- “Omega brings home their roguish, devilishly handsome” -Wade snorted - “Alpha to meet the parents?”

“So I should expect a shotgun in my face and thinly veiled threats to Lil’ Deadpool?” he asked, pointing to his dick, covered by a clean, nice pair of black slacks, having forfeited his usually baggy jeans and hoodie that he wore when off duty; instead, he wore the slacks, a red shirt and some black loafers, but he kept on one of his nicer, grey hoodies, hood up, and a long, black coat to hide his alarming facial features.

“Nah, we hung Uncle Ben’s gun above the fireplace and I doubt Aunt May’d be able to reach it,” I answered absently, adjusting my clothing and inhaling nervously, unable to completely dismiss the anxiety curling in my gut, “Please, please , behave. Aunt May is the only family I have and-.”

“Baby, I understand. You want her to like me,” he said, dropping his bag of overnight clothes next to his feet to tug me close by the waist and plant a chaste kiss to my lips, “Best behavior. Pinky promise. No swearing. No dick jokes. No hard core, inventive, vicious, yet spectacular, flirting. I’ll be better behaved than a nun.”

“You’re the best,” I said, practically sighing as I drew Wade closer and pressed a firmer kiss to his mouth, “I swear, if we weren’t standing in front of my childhood home, I’d say the filthiest things to you…”

“Don’t think I won’t ask for you to elaborate later.”

I just laughed, unlocking the door with my key and yelling into the house, “Aunt May! Wade and I are here!”

“Oh? So you actually brought your boy over instead of just running for the hills?” came the sweet reply as Aunt May’s tiny form rounded the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel, “Take his coat and bag, Petey. And, oh, are those flowers for me? Of course they’re my favorite. You must’ve been pretty worried to ask Peter about that, huh? Come here, dear, let me see you.”

Slightly overwhelmed by her friendliness, Wade was helpless, letting himself be stripped of his bag and coat, the bouquet plucked from his hand by Aunt May as she eyed him up and down. Accessing.

“Hm. Peter was right. You are older, but very handsome,” she said with a firm nod, “My boy did good.” Aunt May spun on her heel, dress fluttering as she walked to the kitchen, “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, boys. Feel free to help yourself to something to drink.”

Blinking rapidly, still trying to figure out what happened, Wade just looked at me, as I stepped away from the coat closet with a small smile on my face. “She likes you,” I said simply, cupping Wade’s face in my smaller hands, kissing his face gently, lovingly, “I’m glad.”

Dinner went by without a hitch, thankfully, and, if I didn’t know better, I’d say Aunt May enjoyed spending time with Wade as much as I did. Oh, she found him delightful and amusing, of course she did, but there were plenty other sides of Wade she wasn’t seeing. Sides of Wade that were for me and me alone. After dinner, we made our way to the living room, sitting on the couch together, Wade to my right and Aunt May on my left, before deciding on Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.

Wade was, unsurprisingly, a Marilyn Monroe fan, much to Aunt May’s delight.

Once the movie was over, Aunt May and Wade having successfully finished at least two glasses of white wine each, my aunt ushered Wade into the guest bedroom, pointing out the bathroom on the way but pointedly not mentioning where mine was. She kissed me goodnight, told me to behave, and made sure I was in my room before heading off to her room and engaging in her own nightly routine.

...I swear, it had honestly been my intention to behave. Our place was small, not exactly soundproof, Aunt May was right down the hall and I grew up in this house damn it. It really had been my intention to behave.

...But my room was just so dark, my twin bed so big and empty and Wade, Deadpool, my Alpha was just so close…

I tossed off my sheets with a huff, shuffling down the hallway in my boxers and a t-shirt, quietly pushing open the door to the guest room and darting inside, closing the door.

“Pete?” Wade’s voice was rough and husky from sleep, but I could see him sitting up in the queen sized bed, shirtless; I licked my lips, thanking the spider that bit me for giving me sorta kinda night vision.

“Yeah…” I whispered, kneeling on the bed before crawling up towards him, my body hovering over his, “Sorry...I just...with you so close, I couldn’t stay away. I need you.”

“But...your aunt…”

“We can do it on the floor. And I’ll be quiet. She’ll never know,” I said hurriedly, trapping his face in my hands and pressing our lips together, my tongue sliding forward and firmly prying apart Wade’s lips, slipping into his mouth. I don’t know which one of us sighed and which one of us moaned, but his right hand was in my hair, playing and tugging the brunette strands, and his left hand was sliding down my ribcage to the small of my back, pushing me closer.

Grabbing my thighs, Wade lifted me up and guided me down to the carpeted floor, the blankets getting entwined between us. We pushed them away hurriedly, my fingers following the bumps and ridges on Wade’s skin as his pushed beneath my shirt to squeeze and rub and press at the soft skin of my torso and the lean muscle beneath the small, squishy layer of fat. He pulls my t-shirt up and off, detaching our lips only to relocate his to my neck. It was so quiet, nothing but the slick sound of skin moving together, sucking, panting, breathing, the rustle of fabric.

I ran my fingers up the back of his head, fingertips digging into his hairless scalp, arched my back and gasped as he bit down and sucked on a particularly sensitive spot beneath my Adam’s apple, and whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

“What?” he chuckled lowly, still unbelievable quiet as he pushed my boxers down my legs, leaving me to kick them off and away from my ankles and feet, “You have some pretty low standards, baby boy.”

I shook my head because, no, I didn’t… Wade just didn’t see what I saw. “Look at these muscles,” I said, gasping as he switched to the other side of my neck, hands rubbing the insides of my thighs teasingly, not touching my dick or my entrance even though I had spread my legs for him to do just that, “they’re so big and defined” -I grasped his biceps, using them as leverage as I rubbed my lower half against his abs- “your abs, your pecs -I love resting my head on them, feeling them move when you breathe -your arms… fuck , I feel so safe when you hold me.”

“Pete…” he murmured, almost like a warning, as his fingers teasingly trailed up my balls, circling around the base of my cock, “ honey- .”

“And your skin ” -Wade tensed, but I let my hands roam down his back and over his chest, up the sides of his face, the back of his neck, humming quietly as the scars served to comfort me in a strange way because, damn it , Wade was alive and he was fucked up but I was fucked up, too, and he was alive and here - “I know you hate it but I love how it feels against mine.” To punctuate this statement of absolute fact, I arched my back and rubbed my chest against his, nipples hardening at the friction and the scars that tickled them.

I had to bite down on my bottom lip as his hand wrapped around my dick and stroked. “You don’t have to do this. My beautiful, perfect, sweet Omega. Let me take care of you. Let your Alpha make you feel good.”

I whimpered, pushing myself up even though the movement made my injured hand ache. “I want to make you feel good too. You’re my Alpha. Mine. And there’s so much… so much…”

“So much what?”

Blood creeped into my cheeks and I swallowed down the sudden rush of emotion -anxiety, nervousness, adoration- that nearly overcame me, brushing my lips over his cheek and jaw, kissing the warped shell of his ear and whispered, “There is so much I love about you, Wade.”

He stilled and tensed, anxiety rushing from him in waves and I tried to combat it with my own pheromones, trying to get him to believe what he was certainly doubting. I relaxed in his arms and directed all my feelings toward him, love, safety, love, respect, adoration, love, awe, love, fondness, love, love, love. A choked sob ripped from his throat and he hid his face in my neck, the tears sliding down my bare chest as he responded in kind, his scent wrapping around me, nearly smothering me in the best way as I smelled it: love, disbelief, thankfulness, love, disbelief, unworthiness, love, disbelief, protectiveness, love, love, love. I yanked his head up to kiss him desperately, heart flying and pounding and it was an adrenaline rush that was better than the one I got when I was swinging between skyscrapers as Spider-Man. “I love you, Peter, sweetheart, my Omega. I love you. I love you. ” Wade’s fingers slid into my entrance, my wetness aiding the intrusion, but not much, not that I cared.

I whimpered and gasped, tears sliding down my temples as I arched my back and cried, quietly, “Wade. I love you, too. So much. ”

He slid into me slowly, my breath catching in my throat as I hung onto him for dear life, unwilling to part from him. Wade slid his arms beneath me as we rocked together, his thrusts languid, deep and slow. “I want to bond with you, Peter,” the mercenary said breathlessly, hands caressing my skin in soothing circles, mouthing across my neck and making me gasp. He wouldn’t be able to bond with me unless I was in Heat and he was in Rut at the same time, but just the suggestion of it had my insides clenching around his length, my hands on his ass to urge him deeper, harder. “I want you to be mine. I want to breed you and love you and I want you to be my mate. I want to see you full with our kids.”

“I want your babies in me,” I admitted in a whisper, burying my face in his shoulder and inhaling all the love and desperation and passion that was rolling off of him in waves, “I want to feel our baby kicking and growing and hold them in my arms and know that they’re a little bit of both of us.”

“I want to see you plump up and I want to see my teeth on your neck every goddamn day. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“I want to wake up in your arms in the morning, smell you all around me, wear your clothes and smell you and go grocery shopping so everyone knows that I have a mate and I love him so much it hurts.”

“I want everyone to see you and get so fucking jealous and confused that someone as gorgeous and perfect as you is bonded to someone like me.”

“I want Omegas to look at you, knowing you’re all they could ever want but unable to have you because I do. I’m lucky enough to have your dick in me and your knot in me during my Heats.”

“I want your morning breath and your sass and I want to fight with you over dirty dishes and have all kinds of sex. Angry sex, jealous sex, drunk sex, lazy morning sex, bad sex, great sex, okay sex, shower sex, kitchen sex, couch sex -I want to fuck you hard and rough and make love to you slowly and gently. Anything you want, I want to give it to you.”

I arched my back and sobbed, quickly stuffing my hand in my mouth and biting down as I came, tightening around my Alpha. Wade came shortly after, teeth clenching down on my shoulder, the pain out of place with the gentle love making we had just engaged in, but it muffled his moan and made my eyes roll back, my cock twitching feebly as it spurted a few more times.

Everything was still and we panted, trying to regain our breath, the ticking of the wall clock sounding deafening in the quiet, dark room.

“Baby boy… did you mean all that?”

“ Yes ,” I said, my heart breaking at the disbelief in his voice, in his scent, how cautiously hopeful he was, “Yes, of course . I meant everything. I love you.”

Wade inhaled shakily, pulling me into his arms, into his lap, running his fingers through my hair and resting our foreheads together. “Sleep with me?”

Laughter huffed out of my nose at his wording, but I trailed my fingers up and down the scars of his shoulder blades and smiled into the kiss I pressed against his forehead. “You don’t have to ask. Didn’t I say I wanted to wake up in your arms?”

He laughed quietly, too, placing me in the bed and wrapping the blankets around the both of us, my head on his chest, listening to the thumping of his heart. “I love you, Peter.”

“I know.”

“Fuck you, I wanted to do that cool Han Solo thing.”

I snorted, cuddling further into his large, warm body, feeling safe and at home, never wanting to leave his side.