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Satin in a Coffin

Chapter Text

“Get your head in the game, Midoriya.”

There was little that could actually derail the steadfast Omega when lost deep in thought.

He would mutter to himself, lines of information rapidly jotted down within many tattered notebooks crammed around his small spot of the bar.

Usually he was left alone when in the middle of a brainstorm, left to hunch over whatever source of media he chose fit. Sometimes newspapers, other times sensitive documents, occasionally news outlets online- anything he could to dissect the intricate details of Pro-Heroes quirks.

He was the best there was, and everyone within the League knew it.

Startled green eyes moved up from the detailed sketching he caricatured, landing on a scarred purple hand that decided to so rudely plant itself across the front of his tablet. “Hey- no!” The man spoke, attempting to lift the hand that was scrolling the page away from what he had been studying.

It only had amusement rising from his partner, an Alpha with icy blue eyes and an ironic flame quirk to counteract them.

“You didn’t listen to a word we said, did you?” He asked, already knowing the answer from the way those emerald eyes flickered to embarrassment. Izuku was known to not listen to a word anyone said while locked within his headspace.

Dabi lifted the tablet towards his face, squinting to make out the details of an ever-familiar face to their ragtag group.

“Looking up that ‘Kacchan’ of yours, I see?” he hummed, enjoying just how bright those cheeks flushed in comparison to the sickly pale skin. It was too easy to rile him up.

The flame-wielder didn’t even flinch when Izuku snatched the device back, a scowl down turning those softened Omegan features. A trick of the light and Dabi might even be able to pull out actual anger from his frown.

“Why yes, I am, and I’d prefer if you left me alone. We have a lot to prepare for in due time for his arrival.” He spoke, completely ignoring the curious onlookers as his pencil scratched with greater force than before. Izuku needed the harsher lines to compliment his old friend’s features anyways.

Ignoring the other hundreds of doodles of the blonde, he was completely sure this was his masterpiece. Anything that had the Alpha’s face was arguably his masterpiece.

It was enough to have Dabi sighing towards him again, uncaring of grabbing Izuku’s attention, despite the way that Tomura quickly grew impatient at his frustrating toy’s antics.

“Midoriya.” He stated, voice hoarse and raspy in a way that grated the Omega’s nerves. He didn’t do anything more than offer another side-eye before turning back to his sketch. “I can hear you from here, Shigaraki. Please feel free to continue.”

While the ignorance of his pet would usually annoy the man, there was simply no helping the way that Midoriya was. He was an all around valuable asset- undoubtedly the most useful and fun dog he could have ever been gifted from his master. The disobedience would be overlooked…for now.

 “Well then, if you can hear me, I would appreciate input from our key strategist should he find interest in anything besides his precious Kacchan.” Tomura spoke, fingertips scratching idly along the bar. The minute nod he received from Midoriya in response would have to do.

Undoubtedly he listened to every word. It was simply his nature.

Raising his hand towards a hastily scribbled board, it was clear their battle plans would be nothing more than lazy crayon, yet Tomura never bothered with anything more. “We just received word from Hagakure of the location of UA’s training camp. GPS coordinates were simple to encode and send, and lead to a remote location just outside of the mountainside.”

Moving his wrist towards the center of the map, he used a red crayon to circle the main building. “The camp is located here- yet we plan to strike while their forces are split. This is not a mission of killing or even injuring our party, nor is the top priority for Intel-”

Tomura paused to wet his chapped lips, eyes flicking back to the slouched form of Midoriya. “We are to strike at the very heart of hero society; to make society question their heroes who have grown lazy and weak from the influence of financial compensation and greed. We will ensure they know they will never be safe from us.”

A chorus of cheers rose from the men and women all around him, all of his shiny new toys so eager to play. If there was one thing that Stain afforded him- it was an army of loyal dogs ready to fight for his ideals.

It had a slow grin splitting Shigaraki’s lips, the Alpha clearly pleased as slowly his gaze moved around the room. He allowed the forest photo to fall, instead replaced with a various list of heroes they were to target. “Our only true goal is to spread mayhem and terror within this lazy society; yet nothing more shattering could come about than the transfer of a promising young hero to our forces.”

Raising a single finger towards the board, he allowed it to press to the newspaper depiction of Katsuki Bakugou; a man depicted screaming and struggling against his binds within the UA sports festival. The prestigious college prided itself upon raising young men and women to excellent hero status, and inflicting their values upon their impressionable minds.

What would it say if one of their prided top students had those morals drastically changed? How many other heroes would greedily switch in an attempt to overthrow the very society they strove to protect? It was truly genius in the man’s mind.

“The main aspect of our mission is to find and capture ‘Katsuki Bakugou’ from the camp, and return with him as preferably unscathed as possible. Midoriya had drawn us up a plan of action in order to best apprehend our target, and I trust you all have studied the notes extensively that our dear strategist has devised.”

It was a null question, given nobody really had the time to read the pages of notes that the man could scribble with little order or care to their placement.

The villain himself only seemed to be paying attention from the mentioning of a very specific name, pencil clenched between his small Omegan fangs. His expression was always carefully blank, lacking emotion, yet within that brain the cogs were always turning.

Green eyes looked over the group, judging them, taking in their hesitance. “It’s alright, I figured nobody would read. You never do.” He said, rising from his seat. “I’ll attempt to keep it as drastically simple as I can for Neanderthals such as yourself.” He puffed up, before sprawling himself within the barstood just adjacent to Shigaraki.

He carefully tugged his button-down and vest back into careful and neat order, before lifting his fingers up and allowing his gloved hands to gingerly brush across the picture of Katsuki still hanging on the board. “Kaachan has never cared for anyone but himself. He’d knock anyone down to prove himself as the best, climb any ladder it takes to get there- he’s frankly the perfect candidate for this.” He spoke, green eyes buzzing with unspoken emotion as he spoke.

This was the only time he ever bothered to show interest or emotions past impassiveness.

“Hero work is stuffy and limiting, keeping him from his full potential with all of their silly legal rules and compensation. I have little doubt when he sees just what the villainous path has to offer he will be more tempted to become the best villain than hero.” Izuku spoke, before harshly ripping down the photo with a newfound fire within his gaze.

His smile was cruel and hungry, completely wrong upon a face as sweet as his own. “We just need to show him how weak heroes really are, and how strong villains can be. Therefore I’ve come up with select groups of people to occupy other’s times. Now if you’ll all pay close attention…”

Midoriya adjusted his tie with calculated fingers, gaze flickering across each pawn in his game of chess. “I don’t like repeating myself.”

  • - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  -

Frankly, it was too easy.

Distract the UA teachers with copies of Dabi to keep them pinned to the kids, take out the Pussy Cats with their brute strength forces, herd the children in with a combination of hellflames and mustard gas, and finally strike with Mr. Compress to seal Katsuki away.

It couldn’t have gone any more textbook to Midoriya’s plans.

Silverfish distracted the only other long-distance fighter threat, singling out Bakugou from Shouto’s grasp, and left him open to the quick tricks of Compress while the raging Dark Shadow of some random student occupied other heroes’ attention as well.

Why, the Dark Shadow made Izuku’s job even easier! He was almost too excited to wait for when Kurogiri would warp them back! It took all of his self-control to sit still as him and Tomura watched their progress on the monitor, his fingertips tapping around the drink he needed to soothe his nerves.

Not only did they manage to take Katsuki without any issue, but they also were able to capture Ragdoll of the Pussycats, much like how Sir wanted.

Everything had went off without a hitch-

Well, besides losing Mustard, but he frankly was idiotic to think only a gun would keep him safe. In the end he was their only loss, and would be incredibly easy to release from prison at their leisure. Already he was drawing up the plans in his third notebook of the night- the other two chalk full of information of every student’s quirks he could manage.

The pencil was nearly worn down between his teeth by the time that Kurogiri rose from behind the bar, Izuku’s eyes watching his movements with rapt attention. “Please step back. I am opening the warp gate.”

It was all the warning Izuku needed before suddenly the bar was crowded full of people once more, all bustling with excitement and energy at the tailend of a mission well done. Midoriya stirred the fruity red drink with lazy twirls of his wrist as he allowed them all to regroup and settle, darkened eyes never leaving Mr. Compress for a single moment.

Only when the small blue orb was withdrawn from his pocket did Izuku’s smile overtake his features, quickly rising from his seat and bounding over to the man with clear excitement in his eyes. “You pulled off just as well as I expected for someone with actual brains.” The younger man complimented, grateful for when the marble-sized containment was placed within his palms.

The knowledge that his childhood tormenter was just beneath his fingertips was doing something fierce to his lower abdomen.

One crush of his fingers and Midoriya wondered if Kacchan would splatter like a bug, or perhaps writhe in agony as the walls closed in around him. As tempting as it was to find out, they had a mission, and Mr. Compress would certainly not enjoy all of his hard work being for naught at the hands of an overzealous Omega.

He allowed his teeth to pull back into a full smile, borderline radiant as he clutched the small orb close to his chest. “Thank you, Sako, for giving me my Kacchan safely.”

Maybe it was the sheer frequency of satisfied pheromones radiating from the Omega, or perhaps the sweet undertones to his gentle features- yet Atsuhiro couldn’t seem to shake the flush that crawled down his neck at seeing the smaller villain so pleased. He bashfully rubbed behind his neck, trying to will away the infatuation gripping him so strongly.

“It was nothing, Midoriya, merely a magicians tricks at most to make my escape.”

Nonetheless Izuku remained pleased, holding the orb up to the light and admiring the slumped form glimmering just beneath the surface. “He looks so good in there, it’s almost a shame we need to take him out. Yet he’s only going to remain unconscious for so long when we extract him.” Midoriya sighed, before carefully placing the goods back into Compress’s hands.

“Prepare the chains and blockers- He’s going to be feisty when he comes out.”

And oh, how feisty he was.

  • - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Frankly, Izuku couldn’t have been more pleased with the fact that Katsuki wasn’t given a gag of any kind when he was finally restricted.

Hearing the roughened voice of his tormentor was like nostalgia, causing his head to go fuzzy as the villain hunched himself over on the doorframe just adjacent to the bar. After all these years there was simply no real way to properly prepare himself for going face-to-face with the man who shattered his spirit time and time again.

Izuku tugged on the line of his tie as he heard Shigaraki speaking to their recruit, barely able to contain his glee at the thought that their clueless leader had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He was so used to just getting toys he never knew how to work for them!

Chewing on his lower lip, Izuku pulled in a deep breath, eyes fluttering back at the ever so familiar scent of gunpowder and spice filling his senses. Bakugou was infuriated, tinting the scent to a burn degree, causing Izuku’s knees to go practically weak at the intensity of it all.

He could feel slick gathering between his folds as he thought of how violent Kacchan was, how intense his emotions could run; there was a reason Izuku skipped his suppressants for the past week.

Midoriya would make Kacchan his, no matter what it took to do so.

He didn’t even care that he was biting his lip nearly raw from the sound of a resounding explosion racketing the bar, knowing for a fact that Tomura had planned to release him from his chains as a sign of solidarity. What a pointless move to make.

He dragged in a deep breath of the aftershocks of the explosion, barely able to stop himself from reaching a hand down to touch himself right in that moment.

“The thing about those with nothing interesting to say, is that you never stop talking-“

God, even his voice was rough, even more-so than listening to it over a speaker. It made the situation all the better to know that just beyond the door his childhood infatuation was there. He really didn’t want his first impression to be the cleanup crew for his shit, yet by the sound of a fight going on, he was sure that was what it was going to come to.

He swallowed around his tongue, trying to will his saliva down at the thought of apprehending Katsuki, pinning him down, putting the shackles back over his body and taking whatever he wanted right from the prideful Alpha-

Izuku barely managed to stifle his disappointment when it seemed Dabi once more had the situation under control.

He chanced peeking a single eye out towards the sight of Bakugou barely able to resist being shoved into the chair, explosions ringing down his arms as he tried to destroy anything in his path. It belatedly reminded Midoriya of their escapades on the playground.

Rough pushes, knocking kids aside to go where he pleases, destroying anything in his path he didn’t like; Katsuki didn’t change a bit, and the knowledge had Izuku’s skin pleasantly crawling. He licked up a single bead of blood that surfaced from where he had bitten too hard. Izuku allowed his darkened eyes to scan the scene, appreciating how both Dabi and Katsuki’s muscles strained from their fight.

Two Alphas, fighting for dominance and strength. How typical for his Omega to get excited over.

When the hero was finally apprehended it seemed as though the group had grown tired of trying to talk to Bakugou. So much for recruiting him right off the bat with sweetened and honeyed words.

It only made Izuku’s job all the sweeter.

Stepping aside just in time for Katsuki’s chair to get dragged away by Muscular, Izuku stuck to the shadows. Watching with rapt attention as the hero fruitlessly struggled within his bonds, attempting to squeeze free and activate his quirk within the special-made metal gauntlets restricting his movements.

It was just as hopeless as Muscular’s chance for gaining a brain.

Licking his lips once more along the bite-ridden skin he watched in utter delight as Katsuki was tossed into their special “containment cell.”

That being a staircase that led to the basement of their dingy bar.

The sound of him repeatedly falling down the steps could also work as amazing material for the Omegan villain to touch himself to. The pained hitches to his breath, the harsh rattles of the chair down the way, the cries of frustration and anger; all of it was heavenly to Izuku’s ears.

He didn’t even care that his scent had hitched up to arousal as he stepped up towards Muscular, resting his palm against the brute’s arm while gazing down at the crumpled heap Katsuki was at the bottom of the stairs. “You really did a number on him.” the Omega hummed, stroking his gloved fingers along the man’s obscene biceps.

He wasn’t stupid- he knew the action was exciting the Alpha. It was just what happened when he was one of the only Omegas in their little clan.

“Yeah, you like that, freak?” The man spoke, lips curling into a sneer as he turned towards Bakugou attempting to roll himself from off of his pretty little face. Izuku just hummed in response, leaning closer to the Alpha despite how he stunk of musk and cockiness.

“Maybe a little. It would be nicer if he was sitting upright down there away from the door, though. I’m gonna have to talk to him eventually.” He sighed, allowing his finger to idly trace the line of an exposed tendon. Such a fascinatingly disgusting quirk.

Much like how a brainless cadet followed the line of their sergeant, Muscular was gone down the steps, lifting Katsuki’s chair and exposing the brilliant bruising marring the side of his cheek and scratching it full of blood.

He wanted to lick up every single drop of it.

Only when he was sure that Katsuki was being dragged to the ideal location did Midoriya move again, light on his feet as he made his way back towards their main conference room. Shigaraki’s face was marred and bruised from the force of Bakugou’s explosion, the severed hand upon his face equally charred.

Izuku clicked his tongue as he moved forward, settling next to his oldest friend and companion. “Didn’t I tell you that he was a feisty one?” Midoriya hummed, letting his scent rush forward and soothe the easily-angered Alpha. He wound his arms around the man’s shoulders, uncaring of the way those four fingers traced his arm. Never the fifth.

“It’s okay, though. You had good intentions, and it was especially honorable to try and let him go. But Kacchan is going to be an especially unruly pet unless you allow me to intervene.” Izuku spoke along the shell of his ear, an undertone of a purr within the words.

He knew how to play each member of their team like a damn fiddle- there was little doubt he was the true brains behind the operation. Sir knew that as well.

The freckled villain planted a gentle kiss to Tomura’s ear, noting the uncomfortable hitch in the Alpha. He wasn’t used to human contact, especially of the Omegan kind. It just made him all the more fun to play with as he idly twirled some hair between his fingers. “Tomura, sir, I think the best way for me to get through to Kacchan is for only me to be permitted down there.”

“I can groom him-” He placed a gentle kiss to the side of Tomura’s face, “Tease him-“ he let his tongue dip teasingly along the side of his ear, “Fire him up-“ Izuku blew on the skin, pulling a tremble from his captive.

“But most importantly- I can make him the most obedient toy you own, so long as you go through me to get to him.”

He knew he had the man-child as putty within his hands as a broken purr rolled from his dear friend’s throat, instantly soothed from the temper that had nearly gripped him whole. He wasn’t exactly one for sexually teasing others, given that he’d much prefer to keep to himself.

But something about having Kacchan there was really getting Izuku going lately.

He was borderline humping down on the seat as he thought of all the things he could do if he had Kacchan to himself, with nobody there to intervene or cease his mental grooming. He could be the only source of comfort, food, water, and pleasure in Katsuki’s life. He would have the Alpha eating out of the palm of his hand after being destroyed by his so many other times in his life.

The excitement of it surely wasn’t lost to Tomura, who shrugged Izuku off with ever wide eyes. “Midoriya, you know how I feel about my pets getting too close.”

It was all the excuse he needed to shimmy himself back, a wide smile flushing his freckled cheeks so daintily. “I know, sir. I just need Kacchan to myself, and I promise I can make him into a perfect toy. Don’t you trust me, Tomura?” he purred, pulling his gloves off finger by finger, before carding them through snowy white locks.

Just the way Tomura liked it.

Being practically raised together by Sir- there was a certain comfort that each other could bring, a sense of familiarity. As nothing more than two scared pups they were shoved together, shaking and petrified, hurt by those around them to the point they turned towards any hope that they could reach.

For Izuku it was someone who noticed his potential where All-Might failed to. For Tomura, Izuku still didn’t know, but there was definite baggage clinging to both of them. When the Alpha went through his pubescent rages Izuku was right there, fingers carding through his hair, just as they did now.

It was the only time he took off his gloves in this filthy environment.

Tomura’s purr was enough to bring Izuku’s out as well, a small smile clinging to his lips as he scratched straight down to the roots. “Just let me have him, Shigaraki, and I promise you he will be useful. But Kacchan can only be mine.”

It was the final push that Izuku needed to get exactly what he wanted.

Chapter Text

From Katsuki’s point of view, he had to admit.

This sucked ass.

Imagine going from a college summer camp within the mountains, training amidst pro heroes- to suddenly being swept up in an elaborate kidnapping scheme. Seems pretty shitty, right?

Well multiply that by at least a thousand.

That was about how shitty Bakugou felt at the moment. From a probable concussion, to multiple bruises and lacerations across his face, Katsuki could just say he’s having a fucking fantastic time. It wasn’t enough they had to tie him down. Oh no, they had to shove him down a flight of stairs while they were at it.

Figures it would go down like this.

There weren’t even that many of them attempting to attack the camp, either! It was just his own rotten fucking luck he managed to fall right into their trap to separate him from the Half Bastard. The more he looked back on it, the angrier he could admit he became. There was so much better he could have done.

God knows he has plenty of time to think.

The only company he’s had since being thrown down here has been the sound of footsteps overhead and the occasional muffled voice seeping through the wooden floorboards. It was a tortuous combination alone- knowing that the villains were directly above him and he could do little to stop it.

“Fucking assholes-!” He would scream, rattling against the chains and attempting to ignite explosions within the gauntlets. His palms were sweaty enough from the humid environment.

Yet the shackles themselves seemed to neutralize the chemicals of his palms into a nonvolatile state. His quirk was rendered completely useless when locked inside of them. However they didn’t gag him, so therefore he would keep talking until they damn well did.

“You goddamn cowards! What, couldn’t recruit me the easy way? Nothing you show me is going to change my damn mind! I will be the best!” His throat was raw from screaming profanities, sweat beating down his brow as his Alphan scent soured the air of the cramped basement.

The only light in the entire place was a series of burnt out, old bulbs barely screwed into their sockets. Only a handful of them were actually functional- leaving half of the basement shrouded in a layer of darkness.

Old furniture stood encased within white sheets just beyond Bakugou’s line of vision, swallowed by the darkness by the time that they reached the far end of the space. If he really focused he swore he could see the faint reflection of a mirror just near the edge of the room.

Tearing his eyes off of the room, Bakugou attempted to adjust his gaze, craning over his shoulder despite the pressure it put onto his joints.

There was nothing behind him either besides the faint outline of stairs.

All of the furniture had been moved a far distance away from his stationary prison, and no matter how he rattled about, the damn chair had been nailed to the ground by that freaky muscular dude. At this point he was just exhausting himself to try and escape.

Despite his best efforts…there was only so much time a guy could stay stationary in a dark basement before things started getting weird.

It started with a quiet voice constantly creeping up by his ear, a phantom brushing of lips that was gone as soon as it arrived. Every time it earned a thrash of the blonde’s head, panic gripping his chest. “Who the fuck are you!?” He’d scream, only for the eerie weight of nothingness to greet him.

It wasn’t long before he started to see things.

How long had he been down here? Hours? Days? Weeks? It all had blended together the drier his throat became, mouth turning to cotton at the lack of adequate hydration. It was bad enough he was hot enough to sweat- he’s starting to smell like a damn gym locker room here.

He…didn’t want to talk about his bathroom needs.

His hair was greasy and plastered to his face, his head could barely stay up from how the chair offered no neck support, and the world around him kept constantly spinning. Was this really how he was going to die? Chained up in a villains basement?

Where the fuck were the pros? Where were the people meant to find him?

Bakugou felt sick enough to cough up bile as his head injuries brought forth a concussion. The bitter taste sat heavy on his tongue as he blearily kept licking at his chapped upper lips, long since dried after it seemed even his sweat had run out. He gave up trying to find the source of the whispering.

He only truly felt crazy when he kept seeing green eyes flash in the darkness.

The shadow figure never seemed to stay for long, often times tracing the outside corners of the room, before drifting away like a ghost through the walls. It brought forth the sweetened essence of nature. The smell of grass and trees felt as crisp and warm as any fall day- a day he should he have been spent training with the Pussycats

Instead a bittersweet tug sent his head into the crook of his shoulder, focusing instead of the sour musk his body exuded. He smelled like a goddamn dying animal; which, really, what kind of irony was that?

His arms cramped something fierce, body aching, the taunt pull of the chains having wore down the skin and resulted in a nasty infection. That would be a bitch and a half to treat. Did he get his tetanus shot recently?

Bakugou broke down.

“Come fucking face me!” He screamed, throat hoarse and cracked as blood spattered the outside of his lips. How long had he been sitting down here, screaming, taunting them to come running? It really was a useless plea.

He didn’t know if he wanted to be put out of his misery at this point. His body was finally failing him.

The world tilted on its axis as the tolls of dehydration struck their mark, eyes falling slack as the world turned to fishbowl perspective. Everything was warping out of control, only adding to his inevitable sickness. Even his stomach had no bile to give as he dry heaved once, twice-

Then everything went dark, just as smooth arms wound around his shoulder.

Just let go, Katsuki. I’ll take care of you.”

  • - - - - - - - - - - - - -

By the time Bakugou woke up next, it was clear he had been tampered with.

The dirt and grime smeared across his body was wiped clean, leaving an oddly sterile feel as his wrists shifted inside of the metal gauntlets. They had been cleaned of his tacky, disgusting, old sweat.

Next thing he noticed was the unfortunate accidents he had been prone to were cleaned up, and a fresh pair of sweatpants clung to his thighs. He wasn’t wearing boxers though. Just the knowledge he had been touched alone sent panic through the Alpha, restlessly struggling his sluggish muscles to try and escape.

“Who the fuck is there!” He screamed, quickly realizing that whoever had bathed and dressed him didn’t appear to care enough to give him any more than the bare minimum of water. He hadn’t eaten this whole time either, not helping in his gut churning nausea.

He went to scream again, before a figure sitting just within the shadows moved.

Bakugou could bite on his tongue he had been startled so bad by their sudden presence, easily mixing with the shadows as smooth shoes stepped into the shitty beam of light. “You know, you don’t have to yell so much. It’ll kill your throat one day.” The figure spoke, tacking on a particularly obnoxious chuckle.

The sight of another person felt almost surreal to the hero. How long had he been sitting down here with only the figments of his broken imagination to comfort him? He grit his teeth as the man paced just outside of his vision, especially considering how blurred his eyes were from the lingering concussion.

“The fuck do you guys want from me.” He rumbled, delving into a coughing fit not long after. His throat really was under harsh toll right now.

Another infuriating chuckle. Bakugou flinched away from the proximity as the figure shifted to the side, ducking just out of his reach, leaving a sick twist in Katsuki’s stomach. He had little ways to defend himself even as he shifted and rolled his shoulders, trying to swivel his head to keep sight.

Hands on his chin stopped him dead, before a deceptively soft finger began to stroke the stubble gathering on his jaw.

“It’s not about what we want, but rather, what I want.” He hummed, the voice so eerily smooth in his ear. It was the kind of voice they wanted playing in infomercials. Soothing.

Bakugou gulped as the fingers traced his Adam’s apple.

“See, what they want is to tame you like a dog. To leash you down, convert you, shift you to their silly ideas and make an image out of you.” The voice drifted between ear to ear, as though the speaker himself was swaying from side to side. “I can’t say I want the same.”

Despite his best efforts at keeping his pride, Bakugou was startled when cool water began to flow over his chapped lips. As though retched on autopilot he tried to tilt his head back and find the source, tongue darting out to lick the moisture.

Gloved fingers shoved his head back down before he could get a taste. “Uh-uh-uh,” The man taunted, “That was just a taste. If you’re a good boy, then you get more.”

It drew something ugly and bothered in Katsuki’s chest.

“I thought you didn’t want me as a fucking dog,” The tempered blonde spat, the struggle in him reignited as he rocked from side to side, “That sounds an awful lot like classic conditioning. Who the fuck do you think I am?”

A click of the tongue was all that followed, before Bakugou felt those once soothing nails digging right against his pulse. There was a surgical precision to how he pressed to his jugular and windpipe at the same time, bringing back the bursting migraine he had just managed to shake.

“You see, there’s a difference between a pet and an Alpha.” He paused, the sound of wetting lips unnerving Bakugou. “Pets are tolerable. They piss in the house, they yap up a storm, and their cost of upkeep is tiresome; yet they’re loyal with good intentions. It’s easy to condition a dog to do what you want.”

Katsuki saw stars as the villain’s grip tightened. His heart began to beat wildly out of control as smooth lips traced his ear, nuzzling into his hair, pulling a disgusted shiver from him. “Alphas? They’re near useless. Loud, tiresome, always trying to get their way- they go into largely labor oriented jobs where they’re dumber than a brick and ‘bring home the bread’ to an Omega they couldn’t give a damn about.”

Those fingers only grew tighter and tighter as he went on.

“Do they help around the house? No.  Do they listen to anyone but themselves? I don’t think so. Do they care about their children in comparison to an Omega? I hardly seem to see so! They’re worse than dogs. So, so much worse.”

Bakugou could barely catch his breath when the grip suddenly went slack, leaving his head struggling to right itself as nimble fingers picked through his hair. “It really is an Alphan world, isn’t it, Bakugou Katsuki? You told me yourself!”

The words struck something deep and primal in his chest.

Wide red eyes remained fixated on the wall as the revelation kept spinning about his head- how did this person know just what he was like as a child? What his initial views were? Long since had they been changed since entering UA and gaining an understanding of the world, but who on earth would know-

Bakugou choked when those hands began to move down his neck, over his scent glands, before idly rubbing where they had swollen and ached. He hated to admit it felt better than anything else down here.

“-Yet here’s the thing, Mister Ground Zero, is that Omegas are biologically evolved to know every little tick to keep you Alphas grounded. Subdued, without even realizing you’re no better than a dog on a leash.”

The fingers applied a hint more pressure, thumbing the raised skin as Katsuki fought the sensation down with a disgusted growl. “Get your fucking hands off of me-“ he paused, eyes rolling back when the villain pressed something just right.

His shoulders fell slack as the aggression melted right off of him, only pulling in greedier breaths as the sweet scent of pleased Omega filled the air. It was a breeze in the wind, bringing with it a musky undertone of old books. He struggled to keep his head as the pheromones clouded him.

“See? Instant reaction!” The villain laughed. His fingers let up in pressure, enough for the common sense to slowly return to the awestruck man. “You think you’re the strongest, the fastest, the best; but you’re no more than puppets tugged along a string. I think it’s cute.” He hummed.

Katsuki remained slumped in his seat as his chest heaved, thankful for when those bastard’s hands finally lifted themselves from his from.

“We flutter our lashes, stroke your egos, plead and whine and act so subservant,” The voice paused, taking a breath, “Those who are smart enough to take advantage of their anatomy go so much further.”

This guy was fucking crazy. This Omega was outright fucking insane, Bakugou thought, as dainty fingers lifted his chin just high enough to press a barely filled water bottle to his lips. He didn’t even get a warning before precious water was spilling past his sealed lips, wasted down the front of his black tank top.

He opened his mouth and greedily swallowed as much as he could.

There couldn’t have been more than just a few mouthfuls to begin with. It wasn’t even enough to stifle his thirst, the bit he managed to get down, before the bottle was tossed carelessly in front of Katsuki. “Oh, jeeze, would you look at me? I’m rambling again.”

A curt sigh followed the confession, before those white gloved hands rubbed across the Alpha’s chest. “Some habits are just so hard to break. My rambling, your aggression; wouldn’t you agree, Kacchan?”

As though struck over the head with a lightbulb, the shattered pieces suddenly pieced together before his very eyes. The voice, the scent, the hints towards the past, the negative view on Alphas- it all stacked together into only one option. One option who had went missing at a young age after the events of a playground brawl between them-


Hands covered his eyes before he could react further, leaving him blind to the world around them as the clack of shoes echoed in front of him. Bakugou could feel a weight against his thighs, leaning into him, hiking a thigh up to straddle him-

Just as soon as the sensation was there, it was gone, with a soft brush of skin against his lips that brought with it that old, familiar scent. “I’m so happy to see you again, Kacchan,” Izuku began, the knowledge of his old childhood punching bag being right in front of him still not clicking with Bakugou, “-But regrettably I have important things to do before we can catch up.”

The soft silk of his gloves left Bakugou’s skin, leaving his eyes blurred and unfocused. As his vision cleared with each unsteady blink, realization remained slow to creep back within his subconscious. Where the sheets of old furniture once sat revealed a mirror, once off to the side, now placed directly in front of him.

He saw fine caliber black shoes making their way up the stairs before the slam of a door signaled Izuku’s departure, leaving him with only his own image to reflect on.

A sick sense of anxiety twisted in Bakugou’s gut when he realized, belatedly, that karma certainly worked in interesting ways.