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nothing but trouble, baby

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The door is clicking open and the last thought Peter has in his mind is that this is a stupid idea.

 

A very stupid idea, and he has no time to take it back. He has no time to take the grey skirt he’s wearing off. It stops at his mid thigh, barely able to conceal anything. He’s not being coy, he’s not being bashful, this is obvious what he’s doing. But if the skirt didn’t tell you that, maybe the stockings and the panties he wears will . This is -- this is crazy. And very stupid.

 

Wade’s voice immediately fills the room and Peter shifts nervously, waiting for him to come into the kitchen and see him standing there. Peter thinks he may pass out and it’s too late to go back. Fuck.

 

“ Hey baby boy, I’m sorry I’m late! Y’know how what they say, New York is a concrete jungle and I -- “ The monologue pauses on Wade’s tongue as he turns into the living room and any semblance of courage Peter may have had grows wings and promptly jumps out the window. He feels ridiculous; keenly aware of Wade’s gaze on him, and he curses himself for letting this happen on a day where Wade left in his suit. The mask keeps Peter from getting a read on Wade’s reaction to his current state.

 

Peter’s fingers play absently with the edge of the skirt, self consciousness gnawing at him while his face goes redder than a firetruck. Jesus Christ , this was a stupid idea. Did he mention that already?

 

“Welcome home?” Peter tries to lighten the mood, voice coming out horse and high in reflection of his nervousness. Smooth, Parker, completely sexy. He’s ruining the moment before he can even create it. What made Peter think that this was a good idea? He should have never listened to MJ’s dumb advice about this.  MJ didn’t know how their relationship was, she didn’t know Wade and Peter has not been officially dating Deadpool for long enough to be taking this kind of risk.

 

Peter was Spider-Man , someone Wade looked up to and idolized and this is how their sex life is going to go? He wishes an asteroid would crash down from the sky and strike him down. He moves, starting to take a step backward toward the hall to the bedroom when Wade speaks, cutting Peter’s panic off in an instant.

 

“Holy shit,” His voice is already starting to roughen, deepen at the end of the curse, the sound sending anticipation up Peter’s spine like an electric jolt. Wade pulls of his mask and lets Peter meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, zeroing on Peter like prey, dragging along the length of his legs in the stockings to get an eyeful of Peter’s full getup, “ Goddamn, baby. You trying to kill me? I’m pretty sure you just gave me a heart attack. Gotta say, if I gotta go, glad to do it to the sight of this.”

 

“You can’t die,” Peter responds, face feeling like it’s been sitting in the sun for too long.

 

“Thank God for that, can’t say I wanna stop looking at you any time soon,” Wade takes a step forward and Peter shivers in response, knowing Wade is pointedly starting to cross the room to him. Wade only pauses to remove his gloves; continuing his walk over, eyes still zeroed in on Peter like he’s the only thing Wade sees, and the only thing he’ll ever see again. When he speaks again, his voice sounds like it’s dancing along the line of losing his control -- like Wade is trying to keep himself from just bending Peter over and taking what he wants immediately, “ such a good little boy, putting such a slutty little thing on for me. Your face is so red, but I bet it was redder when you were putting it on for me, huh? I bet you got all flustered as you pulled those cute little stockings up. Did it get you hot and bothered, honey bunch? Thinking about how I was going to have my eyes on you all dressed up for me?”

 

The words spread heat all over Peter’s body, and he can’t help the little gasp that wells in his throat. Wade licks his lips at Peter’s outburst, and Peter can’t help of how he must look like a mess. Face red, gasping and whining, red under Wade’s gaze alone. This was only going to get worse, wasn’t it? Although any embarrassment he might have harbored is quicking dissipating as Wade gets closer because Wade is looking at him like he’s itching to get his hands on him.

 

“Wade,” He wants to kiss Wade, he wants to be in his arms. Peter feels vulnerable and although he was waiting for Wade to cross, his impatience wins out and he steps forward. They meet like the ocean waves crash to the shore, Peter stands on his tiptoes and Wade bends to catch his lips in a kiss. At first their lips are just pressing together, chaste and sweet, and it’s the reassurance Peter didn’t realize he needed. This was Wade saying this is okay before his teeth sink into Peter’s bottom lip, putting pressure that has Peter gasping into his mouth. Wade’s tongue is molten hot, stroking against his lip in apology before pressing against Peter’s.

 

Peter’s arms wrap around Wade’s shoulders, a bit clumsily because his legs feel like jelly and they’ve only kissed. Peter moans when Wade does something complicated with his tongue, hands moving to spread wide over Peter’s ass. The skirt feels frilly and small in comparison to Wade’s hands, fingers pressing hot and bare against where his behind meets his thighs. They part and Peter’s panting, eyes opening to meet Wade’s gaze. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, but however it is, it makes Wade’s eyes all the darker.

 

“You look so fucking good, baby. Pretty little thing, aren’t you? Are you trying to rile me up? Trying to get my attention? It’s okay, Peter. I know how bad you want me to just look at you . Greedy brat, aren’t ya? “ Wade’s hands are moving, moving down to push up under the skirt and oh God, oh God, Wade’s hands press to the thin material of the panties Peter is wearing. The heat feels like it’s seering his flesh, hot and tempting and making Peter’s brain short circuit, “ I wonder how long you’ve been thinking about this, hm? Have you been wanting it for a while, sweet pea? Picking out what little skimpy outfit you wanted to wear in front of me? Did you spend the days while I was away jerking off and thinking of how bad you wanted to dress up for me?”

 

Peter’s cock twitches at Wade’s suggestions, face burning in shame and excitement. He whines a little in response, hips pushing against the leather of the Deadpool suit and feeling cheated when he can’t get any friction. God, he’s so fucking hard, he already wants to come and hasn’t even gotten to the important parts. Wade senses this, laughing lowly in his throat and Peter gulps.

 

“Already wanting to get off? Wasn’t this meant for me ? You’re my little toy tonight, honey, since you’re so desperate to act like it,” Anticipation stabs Peter’s gut with another punch of arousal at the idea of being nothing but Wade’s toy , “ you’re gonna be a good boy and bend over for me and spread your legs since you’re in the mood to show off.”

 

Yes, yes, -- anything Wade wants.

 

Wade leans in to kiss him again, teeth and tongue persistent as Peter lets him lead. Wade sucks on his lower lip, groaning quietly as he bites as he pulls away like he’s savoring the taste of Peter. Fuck. Wade starts to turn him around, and Peter makes a questioning sound, suddenly feeling unsure of what exactly they’re doing. Without being able to see Wade’s face, he feels nerves jump in his stomach like live crickets. He fusses, starting to try to fight the hold and Wade’s hand wrap loosely around his neck. The gesture is so dominating that Peter immediately melts into it, almost subconsciously.

 

“Baby, I’m just bending you over the counter, okay? You’re safe with me. Remember that you can always tell me to stop,” The words feel like a balm for the sting his mind was working him up into. He relaxes, the pet name wrapping around him like a protective blanket. When Wade encourages him to turn again, Peter complies, feeling his chest his the coolness of the granite countertop. Peter is panting, feeling himself push to his tiptoes to make the position work, but he realizes that was Wade’s point. From here, Peter will have a hard time pushing into whatever he plans to do. It also gives Wade a full look of his ass to ogle.

 

Wade’s fingers drag up the backs of Peter’s thighs, hands settling on his ass and groping it. Peter tenses and makes a little noise, the attention making him flush. The fact that he can’t see Wade’s face both disappoints and excites him, he imagines Wade’s eyes soaking him in, thinking of all the dirty things he could do to Peter. It has Peter moaning shakily and Wade growls in response.

 

“Fuck. Just look at you. You look so fucking perfect, your ass is just begging to be eaten out,” Peter attempts to push into his hands, feeling impatient with all the talking and no action . He’s so hard it hurts, lace pressing uncomfortably against his cock but it almost feels like a punishment. Peter likes it , and he’s not sure if he wants more teasing or wants to move on, “ I really should make you sit on my face. Should make you work to come, make you ride my tongue till you scream, but see I’m polite , baby boy. I’m gonna eat you out and you just get to sit and look pretty.”

 

Wade’s fingers hook into the elastic of the panties, pulling them down Peter’s legs. His fingers spread more than necessary to feel Peter’s thighs and legs in the stockings as he pushes them down and Peter’s face nearly melts the granite beneath him as he blushes. His cock bobs in the air between him and the counter, unable to find anything to gain friction. Peter tries anyways, shifting on his tipped toes to find something , anything , God, it hurts --

 

Wade’s palm comes down onto his left asscheek so hard it rings throughout the apartment. Peter gasps, nearly choking on the spit in his mouth due to the suddenness but moans wantonly. It should hurt, should make him want to stop but instead it makes the fire of arousal lick at his spine.

 

He wants more. Hit him again.

 

Wade complies on his other cheek, almost to be fair but Peter makes another strangled noise, straining as the fire in his gut burns hotter.

 

“Be still now, baby boy. I’m gonna eat your hole like you deserve,” Peter is trembling, keening as Wade’s finger pets over his hole like a tease. A promise. When Wade shifts, gets down to lick across Peter’s opening, Peter thinks this is the best idea he’s ever had. Why didn’t he do this the minute he got the temptation? He debated over weeks, brooding as MJ called it, thinking that maybe he was overstepping. She told him he was being stupid, and being stupid he was.

 

Because the minute Wade’s tongue starts playing coyly with his rim, Peter loses all train of thought and moans into the emptiness of the apartment. Wade’s hands secure his hips, ceasing Peter’s impatient shifting on his feet to attempt to get into a rhythm.

 

“Ah, ah, didn’t you hear me? Be still. You don’t want to be naughty, do you, Peter? You let me do the work. Sit and look pretty, if you can’t play nice, I won’t let you come,” Oh, it’d be torture if he didn’t let him. Relaxing, Peter pants as he fights with his desperation. His brain shouldn’t be this fried just from a little licking, he should be able to keep it together. He’s no virgin and he and Wade have messed around plenty, but it feels like every time, Peter is caught off guard. Every time feels like their first, as fucking cheesy as it sounds.

 

“Please, please, Wade,” Desperation leaks into his tone, but he still tries to make it sound airy and pretty, convincing. Wade growls and starts licking again, and when his tongue slips inside, Peter’s head empties like a towel being rung out to dry.

 

It feels like electricity is running in Peter’s veins, each push of Wade’s tongue against his walls feels like fanning coils, fire spreading to make every part of his body feel like it’s burning deliciously. He feels precum well up and drip from the tip of his cock and Peter sobs, fingernails digging into the countertop with the urge to reach and touch himself. God, he’s so hard, so so hard.

 

Peter’s mouth is wide open against the countertop, eyebrows pushing together as Wade flicks his tongue against a certain spot. His whole body tenses in response and Peter keens, the sound echoing and Wade lavishes the spot with attention. It feels hot and wet and like too much and Peter keens higher, voice faltering but he doesn’t care. Can’t care because holy shit he wants to come, and as long as Wade keeps doing that he thinks it won’t matter if he doesn’t touch himself.

 

Each lick feels like molten lava up his spine, cock twitching, and Peter’s eyes roll back and he moans openly, laced with approval of what Wade’s ministrations. It feels fucking fantastic and Peter is just so close ----

 

Then Wade pulls away.

 

Panicked noises leave Peter’s mouth, the warmth of Wade missing, distressing through the haze of sex. He thinks he might lose his mind, a sob welling in his throat before Wade’s kissing the space behind his ear, shushing him.

 

“ Hush, hush now, baby. I’m here, I just need to undress a little. I’m not going anywhere, I’m still here,” Peter’s eyes flutter open to glance at him from the corner of his eye. Wade leans further, and Peter feels his heat all the way up his back, grounding. Wade gives him a wicked grin, promising trouble, lips pressing to Peter’s in a kiss that is much sweeter than whatever Wade likely has planned. Peter loses himself to it, opening on reflex, teasing Wade’s lips with his tongue to encourage further kissing. Their tongues meet and Peter groans, letting the fog of arousal wash over him again, then he feels something warm and hot and wet nudging his hole.

 

He gasps as Wade puts pressure, feeling himself stretch around the intrusion with a little more convincing. A finger, Peter thinks dazedly, Wade is going to finger him. He feels the push, the barely there stretch, hot and scarred rubbing against him on the inside . Peter’s mouth opens in a silent moan, too overwhelmed to have sound escape. It’s good.

 

“So tight around me, so needy to have me inside,” The words dance in his mind and seep into Peter’s mind like honey. He moans, encouraging Wade to continue, not denying the accusation, “ your hole just swallows me up. Like it can’t get enough. See, baby? Takes my second finger like it belongs there.” A second finger joins the first, and there’s the slight burn of a stretch as Wade sinks in to his knuckles.

 

God, it feels so fucking good. Peter pants, attempting to catch up with the sensations. It feels like sensory overload, his chest heaves with his breaths, his brain scrambling to maintain some kind of control or awareness. Of course the fingers inside him choose that particular moment to curl up , and they press against Peter’s nerves with an accuracy that American Sniper would be envious of.

 

“Ah!” Peter can’t help his outburst and Wade chuckles, rubbing his fingertips over it again, and again, and again -- any semblance that Peter may have had on control is now gone. His hips fight Wade’s hold, his voice stringing nonsense together and Wade teases that spot like it’s his fucking day job. Peter’s face may have been against the countertop but now his hands stick down to where they are, back arching, nearly going mad with Wade just casually stroking over his prostate.

 

“ Wade! Please-- Please let me,” Peter’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth, body strug way too tight, his eyes are pricking with tears.

 

“So impatient, always wants to come before Daddy’s even started,” Wade chastises him, aroused and belittling in the same sentence, “ I’m not touchin’ you and you aren’t touching yourself either. If you think you can come, then go right ahead.”

 

Peter sobs in desperation, pressing his hands harder to the counter, trying to gain leverage to push his hips back but the position doesn’t allow it.

 

“Go on,” Wade eggs him on, “come on, baby boy. I thought you wanted to come. Do it then. Or are you just going to make me wait on you all day?” It’s not fair, the frustration seeps into Peter’s bones and he shakes with it, the fingers inside him still driving him mad as they milk noises from behind his teeth. His cock weeps from where it’s trapped, thick and heavy and bobbing. He just wants to touch it. Wade hums thoughtfully, hand smoothing over his back.

 

“Poor baby, poor needy thing. Just torturing you, aren’t I?” Wade’s voice is falsely sympathetic, but it makes Peter’s gut boil all the same. Then another finger spreads him further, stretching Peter even wider, and Peter’s mouth drops open, goosebumps rising as Wade pulls his fingers out, “there, there. I’ll give you a reward now.”

 

Yes, a reward. Peter has been a very good boy. He deserves a reward.

 

The head of Wade’s cock pushes against his opening and Peter sucks in a breath, moan tumbling out of his mouth as he arches his back further. Yes. Wade is going to fuck him and Peter’s been thinking of how good it was going to be since this stupid little idea popped into his head. Fingers wrap around his hips, steadying him, and then Wade speaks quietly between them.

 

“Ready, baby?” Peter nods frantically, not trusting his voice, too wound up to make sense of the jumbled thoughts bouncing around in his head. The anticipation is killing him, making him restless and needy and whiny. But everything stops once Wade starts pushing inside.

 

Peter stops breathing, feeling the slight burn of the extent of the stretch. It’s only a slight discomfort before he feels himself clenching around Wade, rubbing against the thickness and bumpiness of Wade’s cock. Peter practically drools at the feeling, his nerves that were teased earlier rubbing directly against Wade, making him moan long and low. Wade is so fucking big , pushing up against every nerve Peter thinks he has. He feels so full, can’t move without feeling Wade, feeling how deep he is inside him, balls pressed to Peter’s hole.

 

It feels dirty, and good, and makes Peter dizzy with excitement.

 

“Yeah, feels good getting what you want, huh? Feels good with Daddy’s cock inside you, doesn’t it, baby? Ain’t it everything you’ve been wanting?” Peter garbles out a ‘yes’ that surely wasn’t a word but Wade chuckles anyway, knowing what Peter’s saying without having to ask, “shit, squeezing tight around me, honey.” He pulls back, and pushes back in with a savage groan that Peter matches, keening.

 

Wade starts a pace, quick and punishing. He pushes into Peter with ease, pulling Peter back a little bit on each thrust to push deeper and Peter is definitely drooling right now. He’s definitely moaning and drooling and enjoying it almost too much. His cock twitches on every thrust in and when Wade grazes the nerves inside when he pulls out. It feels like he’s going to explode, his cock must be red and swollen in its neglect but now that Wade is inside , Peter doesn’t think he cares at all. All he wants is for Wade not to stop, to keep fucking him until he fucks Peter stupid, until he can’t think or move or even scream anymore.

 

“Just like that, open up for me,” Wade praises him and Peter preens under the attention. Fuck, he is so hard, it feels so fucking good , he just wants Wade to feel good too, “yeah, that’s it, Pete. You’re doing so fucking good for me, so good. God, keep me like this and you’re gonna make me come too fast.”

 

The thought alone has Peter reeling, the idea of Wade losing his mind and pushing into him faster and faster, chasing the high and losing himself to wanting to come. Peter whines needily, wanting him to speed up, to just lose himself into reckless abandon, but at least it will be reckless abandon together . Wade just groans, continuing his pace, and Peter feels frustrated that Wade won’t relent.

 

This is going to take finessing. Peter mentally shakes his brain, grasping at thoughts that keep disappearing and mingling when Wade sinks against those nerves over and over and over and fuck -- no, he needs to focus. Needs to appeal to Wade, needs to get him to just fuck him . Peter arches up again, not realizing he was slouching out of the position, but now he feels on a mission. He pants, trying to calm himself enough to speak since he’s been doing nothing but listening up to now. He swallows, but with some effort, he manages it.

 

“Please,” He says, hating how ragged his voice sounds, how wrecked instead of sound pretty like he wants. Another thrust has him nearly abandoning the idea all together, but his stubbornness forces the words out even with his mind going blissfully blank.

 

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

 

Wade stops , just for a moment but it feels like a lifetime and Peter whines, mind racing to figure out what he did wrong that caused Wade to stop , but then Wade’s continuing. He’s growling, yanking Peter back into his thrusts which are now hard and erratic, and the assault nearly makes Peter scream. He can’t keep up, his brain goes radio silent, mouth open and sobbing and doing god knows what else.

 

Wade’s merciless, fucking Peter like he intends to have Peter never forget the experience. Like it’s the last time they’re ever going to fuck and he wants to make damned sure that it’s mind-blowing. And is it ever. Peter’s so close he feels like he doesn’t need to touch, that listening to Wade alone is going to be enough to come to.

 

“Close,” Wade warns, low and soft as if not to disturb the moment, but Peter understands what he’s getting at. Peter moans and moves his hand, but not to touch himself, to touch Wade. He blindly reaches for Wade’s hip, pushing him forward into Peter.

 

He wants Wade to come inside.

 

It doesn’t take any more coaxing. Wade reaches around to the front of Peter, gripping his cock in a practiced hand and strokes him in pace with his thrusts. Peter yowls, feeling Wade inside him , textured and scarred when he squeezes around his cock in surprise, and the ridges in his fingertips as he strokes Peter’s cock once, twice -- fuck --

 

“Go ahead, baby. Daddy’s not going to stop. I got you,” And then Peter sees white. It’s so intense it hurts, he can feel himself twitching through it, feeling Wade’s warmth and breath and it feels like he’s underwater in a good way. He hears a loud noise, almost like screaming, but the pressure in his chest makes him realize that it’s him. Then the world is back in focus and Wade’s hand, wet with Peter’s release fists him while he thrusts deep.

 

The aftershocks of pleasure are zinging through Peter as he feels Wade begin to finish, leaning down to kiss and nip at the back of Peter’s neck, and Peter feels the warmth spread inside him and hell yeah , he’s satisfied. They both pant, Peter can feel his heartbeat mirroring Wade’s pressed against his back. Then Wade chuckles a little, and Peter feels his lip quirk up. Wade pulls out and Peter grimaces a little at the wetness between his legs before Wade is turning him around and kissing him on the mouth.

 

Just chaste little kisses as Wade hums, and Peter feels it resonate in his chest. God, he’s happy . How silly and mushy of them to be like two lovesick school kids making out before class right after something as intense as sex. But somehow it works, and Peter loves that about Wade. It always works.

 

“Hey,” Wade says, voice fond and warm, like a campfire when it’s cold. Peter sighs happily, arms wrapping around Wade’s neck.

 

“Hey yourself,” Peter says cheekily, and Wade laughs. It sounds like music, low and raspy and the sound Peter wants to remember forever.

 

“I think we need a shower. You caught me with my pants down,” He says the second part sleazily and Peter smacks his arm for good measure, “I wasn’t expecting to sex you up the minute I got home.”

 

Peter puts his nose up in mock offense, “ Are you complaining?”

 

Wade kisses his nose to make Peter wrinkle and and then chuckles as Peter glares up at him.

 

“ Sweetheart, you just blew my mind about seven hundred ways. I am the farthest from complaining you’ll ever get. Like a million light years away. But even if I was, I’d still come all the way back for that ass. Can you meet me halfway, right on the corner is where I’m gonna wait,” Wade starts to singsong and Peter does not think he’s funny, he isn’t funny at all.

 

“Push your heart to the limit, this is where you’ll stay?” Peter attempts for dryness but he sounds far too amused. Damn Wade. Wade kisses his face loudly, smooching and all before parting with Peter to start heading toward the bathroom, stripping as he goes. Peter is not starting. He isn’t he’s just… just looking because it’s the only thing moving in his vision. Yeah, that’s it. Wade turns to grin at him wolfishly. Damn, damn, that’s hot. Explain how he just got off and somehow Wade makes him wish he was good for another round?

 

“Oh, and Petey, you should put that stuff away,” He points to Peter’s clothing and Peter looks down dumbly, mind feeling somewhat blank. He nearly forgot he was wearing a skirt and stockings. He looks back to Wade right as he winks, “next time I’ll wear it.”

 

Peter nearly burns the house down with his blush.