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Peter has it a little rough since the sudden passing of his Uncle Ben. The bills kept coming and his Aunt was exhausting herself working to feed them and pay the debt. He comes to a solution that he's admittedly not proud of. He works at a Club for a little over a year, faking his age and helping his Aunt out behind her back.

Deadpool was the name he earned killing for money. He wasn't a good guy, but he tried occasionally to be a Samaritan. And on one night,

Wade comes across a Male Omega working in a Club and instantly drawn to him. He doesn't know if it's just because the Omega is young and he honestly wants to help him out of the tight spot or because his Alpha wants no one else to have their eyes on the little Omega.

Spideypool.

Human Peter/Mutant Wade

OMEGAVERSE

2019

®©™

   Wade

Sultry music played as a female Omega strut down a catwalk to a pole, then twirled on it. Her face was heavily covered in makeup and her body was barely fitting into the right pink leather. Omega's in short, slim fitted outfits took orders or sat with High classed Alphas and Betas, laughing as the snobby males, gripped thighs or ass cheeks in the privacy of the leather booths that they rented for hours with the company that they had on the arms. Betas served drinks to drink Alphas and Omegas chose their clientele from the drinks the dominant males bought.

 Wade was only here in this club for a job and what a job it was. 

   The Club was called the Omega Den. It was far from a Den, with slutty music and the scent of horny Alphas. All the 'dancers', were either Omega females or males that ranged from the ages of eighteen to twenty-eight. To Wade's Alpha nose, they either ranked of other Alphas or sickly sweet perfume. The bouncers at the door were betas, as well as the bartenders. Dimly lit lights and bass music reverberated through the business. Wade got a few odd looks- mostly because of the s**t-mug he called a face- as he had come through the first hour ago to meet up with a client that Weasel had gotten him. 

The Omega he'd met up within her dressing room was Stacy Clark. A sweetheart from Wade's analysis, who was simply tired as f**k of the Alpha that didn't take no for an answer then, decided upon himself to follow her home and try to rough her up. She, fortunately, had a Beta roommate who chased the guy away with a frying pan. It took Stacy a week of more stalking for her to finally have enough and she got a link to Wade Wilson, Otherwise known as the Dead-Pool. An Alpha that gained his name from the countless kills he'd done in exchange for money. A Mercenary, he was known as but, a strange one at that. Wade wasn't completely heartless, so he didn't kill Omega's or children. Rarely, he'd forgive a Beta if they seemed guilty or just forced into something they didn't expect. He took small jobs, sometimes for free, on ones like this, unlike other Mercs. 

  Stacy, who was twenty, with long blonde hair and green eyes, was one of the Omegas that performed in the club. She spoke shyly as she told Wade where he could find the Alpha stalker and what the guy looked like. She paid him one grand, not a lot compared what Wade was usually given but, he didn't complain and was willing to take down the price. She had insisted, so he made sure when he found the Alpha, to beat the s**t into him, properly. Surprisingly enough, the Alpha was in the club and with a glance to one of the bouncers, Wade was able to drag the b***h outside from the back exit. He was disappointed when the male didn't fight back and just begged and sobbed, saying that he'll leave Stacy alone. Wade got fed up, but he made the Omega a deal and kicked him up a lot more until the Boxes got tired of hearing him whine. He hissed out some more threats and fixed his hoodie before heading in again. The bouncer nodded to him, grumbling thanks. 

 It was no surprise that Wade's reputation was even known here. As a result, many of the Bouncers respected him. The Omegas realised that he wasn't looking for a lay or any attention so they stayed clear. Besides, it wasn't like Wade was anything good to look at without throwing up or having nightmares once seeing him. It was why he wore the hoodies or his Dead-Pool suit when he was in public. With his whole body the horrid mess it was, it really wasn't a surprise that people would not want him. That, and when they got to know his personality. His skin had a tendency to cause unwanted staring which he did not like at all. Maybe, before the whole Cancer s**t, he wouldn't have minded. He was a looker back then. 

 Now, we're stuck with this s**t face. White adds suddenly. 

We need a drink. Yellow says and Wade makes his way to the bar. 

He avoids eye contact or anyone touching him. Seems that everyone one else gets it-

Probably because we have blood on our knuckles and are radiating pissed off-ness. 

 Yes, who wants to get with that? Who wants to get with us, period? 

Come on? We may look like a cow chewed us up and s**t us out but, we're not that bad. 

You're right, Yellow. We're way worse. 

Pessimist. 

Realist. 

  Wade tunes out the Boxes and calls over the female beta bartender. Her dark hair is cut short and mascara highlights her eyes. She doesn't meet Wade's gaze. 

"The strongest s**t you have."

"Uh, can you afford that, dude?"

"Yes, now get the f*****g bottle,"

She flinches and moves away for a bit, returning with a bottle and a glass. That Wade disregards, takes the bottle and chugs it. 

The burn is good but, he knows it's not going to get him the drunk he wants. It's not possible after Weapon X. Along with the rapid miraculous healing and growth, was his resistance to drugs and alcohol. He had to drink some of the Asgardian s**t that Thor would bring back and Clint steals for Wade, in order to reach anywhere near his burn or puking hangover. He was made a mutant to counteract the Cancer that ruined his life. Then, s**t goes down and he hunts down d**k Francis, saves his baby Mama, only to have here taken away from him. And he to return on a killing spree. Many people think of him as an Anti Hero, one who finishes the job and rids the world of any shitbag that those up in the Avengers tower can't put down. 

  Abruptly, a scent travels all the way over to Wade's seat and it seemed to carry all through the club, strong and naturally sweet. Like honey and- 

The actual... 

...Holy f**k. 

The Omega that's walking- no modelling his way around the dark club has snatched all the Alphas in the vicinity's attention. He's about five feet eight, with fair skin and a juicy little body that was in tight black leather which left all to the imagination. He was an all-natural beauty, in truth with dark hair that looked like he came out from just having the s*x of his life. But, that couldn't be with a pure scent like his, he was all virgin. He wore a black crop top and shorts. The top made it able to see his soft lean shaping and showed off more smooth skin. The shorts, those f*****g shorts, hugged his ass cheeks and shaped his hips were it rested low. Plump pink lips glistened with shiny lip gloss and chocolate eyes were flashed by bright lights, that were framed by thick lashes. His neck was slender, unmarked and his gait was slow, as he smiled perfectly to the other Omegas, sometimes giving small waves. Thighs that were thick and begging to be spread. Legs that were mostly covered by the leather knee-length boots on wedges that added to his height slightly. 

The Omega didn't bow his head to any Alpha or Beta though He was shorter than all of them and a good five or six inches shorter than Wade. He looked younger than the Omega's, in fact, has didn't even look eighteen. He still walked with confidence as he got to the stage area where he came to a stop and the song changed. 

  Wade's jaw practicality dropped as the kid began to sway his hips. A long metal pole slide down from the ceiling and a graceful, small hand gripped it, he brought his chest against the metal and slide down, his ass doing a wiggle as he did and his lips licking. The movement earned growls and whistles from the crowd. The male omega turned and rubbed against the pole. His hands sliding up his body and his back arched, mouth falling open in false moans to the music. He pulled his hair and bared his neck, long enough for the Alphas to pant as they watched the prize. Luscious hips rolled and shoulders rocked, dark eyes were low, heated as he gave his performance. His aroma grew with audiences' excitement. Wade growled low at the thought of all these Alphas riled up by the Omega and wanting him as he stooped down, showing the curve of his ass and neck. He spread those thighs and passed his hands there to his knees then rose up quickly in a bounce. A hand slide up his ass and to his neck. He flexed his pelvis, the roll of his stomach earns snarls in the audience. 

 Jesus, how old was this kid? 

Fuck, he's so damn fine though! Look at that damn bubble butt and those lips- we have to taste! 

As if!? He's probably sixteen! What the hell is he doing here?! This s**t has to be illegal?!  

  The Omega was very much young and he was obviously a virgin. Which was hard to come by in this type of work. And, if he stayed in this work, he wouldn't be for much longer.

Wade watched, his Alpha instincts urging him to protect and he wasn't going to ignore the damn thing. Whenever it went off, it usually meant something. So, if it was going off for this kid Omega, he was going to find a way to help him.