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Vanilla and Honey

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Shinsou held back a grin when he was partnered to spar with Kaminari for training. He wondered if Mr Aizawa would have paired them together if he knew the two had recently started dating. They hadn’t told anyone yet, he wanted to keep it quiet at first. He was pleasantly surprised that Kaminari had successfully kept his mouth shut. They’d only gone on a few dates and he didn’t want everyone making a huge fuss before he was confident it was going to last between them. 

He glanced over at Kaminari and the blonde beamed at him as they caught each other’s eyes. Kaminari’s subtle honey aroma was stronger than usual today. Typically he could barely make out the blonde’s scent. Shinsou’s sense of smell had sharpened after finally presenting several months ago. Presenting after 16 was uncommon, but he was a late bloomer. Kaminari never presented and at this point, it was safe to assume that he was a beta. Shinsou envied this, he had hoped that he would end up being a B-Type. It was the most common and least remarkable. For a while, he thought he was in the clear. 

For most A-types presenting was a day of celebration, but he wished it never happened. His foster parents had already barely tolerated him due to his unsettling quirk and the ominous track record on his personal file. They weren’t violent towards him, but they avoided talking to him the best they could. He didn’t let it bother him too much, they lived close to UA so he was able to attend his dream school. That’s all that mattered to him, childhood fantasies of being adopted were a long-dead pipe dream. He knew he was going to age out of the system. Despite their wary attitude towards him, his foster parents had been annoyed when he moved into the dorms. It resulted in them getting less money for being his guardians. Him presenting as alpha had been the last straw for them. It was just too dangerous they said, a quirk like his along with the violent tendencies attributed to young alphas.

He remembered the social worker coming to talk to him. He had been agitated by all the new senses flooding his brain and fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. She had been patient with him, having dealt with similar situations before. He liked her, she was one of the good ones. She earnestly tried to do right by him in a system that was stacked against him. 

“I have good news and bad news,” she had said frankly to him. “Which do you want first?”

“The bad news,” he replied. He scratched at the scent blocking collar around his neck. He had to wear it until his pheromones stabilized.

“Unfortunately there isn’t any available foster parents near your high school.” She said carefully.

His stomach dropped, he’d been afraid of that. The way she phrased it was polite, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew there was plenty available, just none that were willing to take him. A 16-year-old with a record that lit up with red flags wasn’t easy to place. The new label of alpha on top of his dangerous quirk did him no favors. Most parents were thrilled to have an alpha son, but in his circumstance, it was no boon.

As if sensing his distress she’d held up a hand. “Now for the good news. I reached out to your school to discuss the unique situation and we think we’ve come to a solution.”

He bit his lip, hope rising in him as she continued. “Your teacher Mr. Aizawa is willing to take responsibility for you. It’s an unusual solution, something that typically wouldn’t fly. However since you already live in the dorms and we’re dealing with heroes here, I was able to get some rules bent. How does that sound to you?”

He had jumped at the opportunity. The strange custody arrangement meant the likelihood of him ever getting adopted dropped to zero, but he didn’t care. He got to stay at UA and Mr. Aizawa already had a mentor role towards him anyway. Adding a weird temporary custody element to it didn’t really change much. Aizawa and his partner Yamada took him to buy some things to set up a room in their home, just in case he had to be out of the dorms at some point. It was really nice of them and also completely unnecessary. He thanked them profusely and tried to turn down as much as possible. It’s not like he was going to suddenly start calling Aizawa or Mic-sensei dad. He had snorted at the thought of his classmates' reaction to that.

He felt a little guilty for not telling his technical guardian about his new boyfriend. It just felt too weird still. He saw Mr. Aizawa as his teacher, not a parent. He was good to Shinsou and he had immense gratitude towards the man, but he wasn’t the most approachable guy. He definitely didn’t seem like he held any desire to discuss teenagers love lives. So he didn’t beat himself up too much for keeping the fact he was about to spar with his boyfriend to himself.

The different pairs started heading over to their assigned spots for sparring. This exercise was quirk-free, although Mr. Aizawa said that he should still use his capture scarf. “You need all the practice you can get,” he had said matter of factly. Shinsou knew he was right, but he had a hard time not taking it as a slight against him.

Kaminari’s objective was to land as many blows on him as possible while avoiding getting caught. Shinsou’s objective was to avoid getting hit while trying to capture his opponent.

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” Kaminari chirped as he bounded over to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll comfort you after your loss!” His boyfriend grinned mischievously and he knew not to take his bravado seriously.

“I’m so intimidated by all five foot five of you,” he deadpanned.

“I’m five six!”

The whistle blew and Kaminari leaped with unrefined ferocity, almost feral in his movements. He nimbly dodged the capture scarf that chased after him, letting out a little giggle. His boyfriend hadn’t quite shaken off the habit of nervously laughing during battles, something Shinsou found ridiculously endearing. The blonde swung a kick and Shinsou managed to block it with his wrist just in the nick of time. Kaminari aimed another kick and he caught it, throwing the ankle aside. Mentally he scolded himself for using his hand again instead of the capture scarf. Blocking the kick almost threw him off balance and he had to quickly shift his weight to accommodate. Kaminari maintained his balance and went in with a lower kick to the gut that happened so fast that Shinsou couldn’t react before it impacted. He let out a short oof, but Kaminari didn’t have the momentum he needed to do much damage. Frustrated, Kaminari swung a punch instead, but this time he was ready. He ducked out of the way of the blow and his capture scarf snaked around the other boy's arm.

“Oh shi-” Kaminari began, but was cut off as his legs were swept out from beneath him.

He fell hard to the ground, his captured arm pulling Shinsou along with him. Shinsou used this momentum to his advantage and threw his body on top of the other boy, pinning him down. If he hesitated for a moment, the blonde would be back on his feet and dodging his scarf again.

Kaminari’s face was flushed with exhaustion and Shinsou could feel his heavy breathing rocking beneath him. The scent of warm vanilla and honey was stronger than ever. Kaminari made a sound of discomfort, but didn’t tap out. Instead, he tried to maneuver free with a twist of his body, attempting to use the defense techniques drilled into him. Startled by the sudden movement, Shinsou let out a low growl. His alpha pheromones filled the air as he pinned the other boy back down. He gasped in mortification when his unconscious actions dawned on him. He hadn’t meant to release his pheromones like that. He hastily struggled to reign in his smokey scent, shame burning inside him. As a newly presented alpha, his control over his own pheromones was still shaky at best.

He swiftly released Kaminari and opened his mouth to apologize. However before he could get a word out, he was assaulted by a sudden wall of honey sweet scent. The smell was rolling off in hot waves from the body pressed lightly between his thighs. It was absolutely overwhelming. He’s dizzy from the power of it and could feel himself unconsciously baring his extending fangs. His mind felt hazy and clouded with thoughts that didn’t feel like his own. Want. Need. Longing. His eyes were blown open wide as they fixed on the teen writhing below him. Denki’s back arched and he let out a pained groan, long and low and needy. Tremors traveled through the blonde’s thin limbs and sweat beaded at his temple. Even like this, he was so beautiful. Shinsou caressed his face with a trembling hand and the flesh felt burning to the touch, Denki leaned into his hand with a whimper.

The scent was intoxicatingly delicious, yet it was laced with distress. He yearned to drive out the bitterness of fear and weave the sweetness with his own smokey scent instead. Instinctively he pulled Denki upright and leaned him against his chest protectively. He nuzzled his cheek against his mate’s, attempting to mix their scents. The desire to do this was overwhelmingly strong, it's like he was under his own brainwashing quirk. 

“‘Toshi...” Denki mumbled and flinched as another spasm of heat washed over him. 

He could hear someone shouting nearby, but the words didn't seem to register in his brain. It was hard to focus with Denki’s sweet scent wrapped around him like a blanket. The smell was better, but still not quite right. As if in a trance he began winding his capture scarf loosely around Denki’s neck until the other boy was surrounded in his scent. Something settled, warm and content in his chest as he breathed in the mixed smell. Warm vanilla, smokey toasted coffee, and honey. It was delectable. 

This momentary contentment was disturbed by the aroma of other figures enclosing in on them. He snapped out of his daze to growl at their surroundings, instincts taking over. His vision was tinged red and he saw world through a filter of hypersensitivity. How was he supposed to protect them in this state of disorientation? He clutched Denki closer to him and snarled viciously in the direction of an encroaching alpha who smelled of burnt toffee and spice.

“All the alphas need to back off, you’re making it worse! Wait for Mr. Aizawa!” Someone shouted and Denki screwed up his eyes as if the loud noise hurt him. 

Shinsou placed his hands over his boyfriend’s ears and a low rumbling stirred from his throat. He felt desperate to ease his mate’s suffering, the single-mindedness of this fixation made it difficult to register anything else. He stiffened at the sound of footsteps coming closer, but was unable to take his eyes off of Denki. 

“Hey Shinsou, I need you to relax, okay?” 

The familiar smell of wet moss and sage wafted towards him. He felt himself unconsciously inhale slowly and he looked up to see his teacher carefully approaching. In some distant part of his mind, he knew the man meant safety, yet he still tightened his grip on Denki. He growled lowly, but without the ferocity of before.

“Hitoshi, we’re here to help. It’s alright. Come on Midoriya, he won’t attack.”

The smell of apples and fresh cut grass lulled around him. He felt his eyelids droop in response. It was an omega’s scent and it was familiar to him. It was difficult to stay on high alert with a recognizable beta and omega’s purposefully calming pheromones being targeted at him. He let out a confused whimper as his dilated eyes met his classmate’s wide green ones. Midoriya and Aizawa were on either side of him now.

“That’s it Hitoshi, we’re here to help. Just let go now,” his mentor’s voice was a low soothing rumble. His grip on Denki loosened and he felt his hazy vision start to clear slightly. His ragged breathing began to slow and he felt Midoriya running a comforting hand against his back.

“I’m going to take Kaminari to sickbay. Midoriya, take Shinsou to my office once he calms down. The rest of you, no funny business.”

He felt the weight of his mate being pulled away from him, but it was quickly replaced by Midoriya’s arm around his shoulder. The green haired boy pumped out calming omega pheromones with the skill of someone who presented years prior. Shinsou still let out a low sound of loss in the back of his throat and he felt Midoriya give his arm a small squeeze.

“That’s actually kinda sweet,” Midoriya mumbled under his breath.

He wasn’t sure how long it took for him to come fully to his senses, but once he did his face burned red with embarrassment. He and Midoriya were still crouched on the ground with the smaller teen’s arm around his shoulders. The rest of the class stood a good ten yards away, whispering amongst themselves and looking over at them with undisguised curiosity.

“Um, you can let go of me now.” He mumbled awkwardly.

“Ah! Right, of course, sorry!” Midoriya jumped away as his if he’s been scalded and flailed with pink cheeks. What an absurd person, apologizing to him.

He stood and brushed his pants off, avoiding the others gaze. “Can we go to Aizawa’s office now?” he asked. He really didn’t want to stick around and let his classmates swarm him. 

“Uh sure, are you okay?” 

Shinsou put a shaky palm to his face, “Right now I’m wishing my quirk was the ability to erase memories so I could use it on everyone in our class. Does that answer your question?”

“Hah… right, of course.”

They walked towards Aizawa’s office and blessedly Midoriya had the sense not to pepper him with questions. The boy did mutter to himself rapid fire as they walked, but Shinsou tuned him out. He’s not sure if he’d ever felt so humiliated in his life. His secret boyfriend had presented as an omega in front of the whole class and his response was to guard him greedily like a prized hunk of meat. He even openly scented the other boy in front of everyone! Why did he react that way? Shame boiled in his core. Kaminari didn’t belong to him, they had barely started dating. So much for being one of the good alphas. What was he supposed to say to his boyfriend once they were reunited? When they reached the office Midoriya bit his lip as if he wanted to say something, but just waved awkwardly goodbye instead.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat in Aizawa’s office, stewing in his own thoughts before his pseudo-guardian showed up. His teacher opened the door and slumped into the chair across from him, looking exhausted.

“Am I in trouble?” he mumbled. “I- I’m really sorry. Is Kaminari okay?” Shinsou fiddled with his hands and suddenly his shoes seemed very intriguing.

“I figured you’d appreciate some space from your classmates after all that. Kaminari will be fine,” his mentor replied lightly. He looked up and Aizawa was giving him a calculating look. It was like he was trying to piece together an intriguing puzzle, but he didn’t appear angry.

“I feel like the biggest fuck up in the world!” Shinsou suddenly spat out, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Aizawa didn’t scold him for cursing, “Why is that?” He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly bemused.

Shinsou tried not to look too incredulous. “I acted like a feral stereotypical knot-head in front of the whole class.”

His mentor gave out an amused huff, “When an omega presents for the first time, the pheromones they release can be extremely uncontrolled and overwhelming. It’s not surprising you made a bit of a scene.”

A ‘bit of a scene’ seemed like the understatement of the year to Shinsou. “I growled at people like a mad dog,” he muttered dully. “I even growled at you.”

“The fact your instinct was to protect him is exactly why you’re in the hero program Hitoshi.” He said this in a matter of fact tone as if he could be commenting on the weather, not validating Hitoshi’s lifelong aspirations. Then he got a sly glint in his eye. “I do need to ask, am I correct in thinking that your relationship with Kaminari is more than platonic?” 

Shit. Shinsou was worried he’d ask him that. He was so direct about it too. He felt his cheeks get warm again. How much could a person blush in one day before it became a health hazard? He’d have to ask Midoriya, that guy seemed to be trying to break a world record.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Um, yeah. We’ve just gone on a few dates. It’s nothing official yet, but I do like him a lot. Obviously…” he muttered the last bit under his breath, looking at his shoes again. 

“It’s even more impressive you didn’t try to bite him then,” Aizawa quipped. Shinsou wondered if his mentor was getting a sick joy out of watching him turn into a human tomato.

“What? I would never do that! Is that what you all thought I-” he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “It’s bad enough I scented him without asking, he’s going to hate me.” His voice was muffled in his hands, but his teacher seemed to understand him.

Aizawa stood and ruffled his foster son’s wild purple hair fondly. “You’re a good kid,” he said lightly. 

Warmth bloomed in Shinsou’s chest at the affection. He kept his face in his hands, acting like the praise didn’t phase him.

Aizawa continued, “I doubt Kaminari will be upset, but I have some ideas for what you can do to make it up to him.” 

Shinsou lifted his face from the shelter of his hands, “Tell me.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: 

Kaminari’s eyelids fluttered, long lashes tickling his cheeks as he fought off the drowsiness that threatened to pull him back into dreamland. The room came into focus, the grainy tile floors, draped creamy curtains, and sterile hospital smell. He pushed himself into a sitting position and winced as his sore muscles twinged in discomfort.


He remembered how he ended up in sick bay, but it was like recalling a fever dream. He had been sparring his boyfriend when suddenly his body had gone haywire. He shuddered at the memory of the itching heat that had rushed through his veins and the sensory overload that accompanied it. He felt better now, but his sense of smell was still in overdrive. The odor of harsh cleaning supplies, other patients, and musty curtains bombarded him. He rubbed his head with gritted teeth.


He remembered what Hitoshi advised him to do when Denki vented about his terrible test anxiety. Just breathe. He closed his eyes and took a deep slow breath, attempting to calm himself. A familiar ashy fragrance jumped out at him from amongst the jumble of scents. His golden eyes snapped open and settled upon the grey scarf folded neatly on the bedside table. His boyfriend had wrapped it around him when Denki had his bizarre fit, he’d cuddled him in front of their entire class. Didn’t Hitoshi nuzzle his face too? He wasn’t sure if he imagined that part. 


Despite the shit show that had gone down, he felt a swoop of victory. He flipped his hair out of his face with a smirk. He hated keeping their relationship secret. Not being able to brag about snagging elusive Shinsou as a boyfriend was low key driving him insane. His friends were still teasing him about his supposedly unrequited crush. He nearly short-circuited himself summoning the willpower to bite down his smug comebacks. He asked out hotness incarnate and the lord of his wet dreams had said yes. The fact he couldn’t brag about it was inhumane.


 He was falling hard and fast for Hitoshi. It took all his self control to hit the breaks. He didn’t want to scare off his first boyfriend by oozing heart shaped eyes. Maybe his boyfriend’s absurd hotness was why Denki had wigged out during sparring. That kind of pent up emotion couldn’t be healthy. Keeping his cool while sparring his hot boyfriend had been a fool's errand. How embarrassing. At least his freak out resulted in that tall glass of water cuddling him in front of their whole class. He picked up the capture weapon from the nightstand and hugged it to his chest. He absentmindedly wound the fabric around his hands, grinning stupidly to himself. 


He startled at the sound of a throat clearing and the bed squeaked in protest. Recovery Girl appeared around the privacy curtain, holding a packet of papers. She eyed the scarf he was clutching with her eyebrows furrowed. Was that disapproval? It was the same sort of scrutiny old people gave him when he was too boisterous in public spaces. He sat the scarf down in his lap, a tad self-conscious, but not willing to part with it. Hitoshi had wrapped it around him, he knew that for sure. He didn’t steal it or anything. She shook her head with a small chuckle, apparently letting go of whatever bothered her.


She bustled over to him, setting the papers down on the nightstand. “It’s good to see you’re awake Kaminari, it appears the sedative has worn off.” She held her withered hand to his forehead. “You’ve cooled down too, excellent. How are you feeling?” 


“Super weird.” Her eyebrows raised at his ineloquent response so he added, “Everything stinks and I feel like I ran ten miles.” 


She nodded in understanding, “It can take a while to get used to the heightened senses. The soreness is a perfectly normal side effect of presenting for the first time. Don’t worry sweetie, it will pass. You will experience occasional cramping until your first heat.” 


“Um, what?” He blinked at her in confusion. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” 


Her mouth parted in surprise.“Oh my! Well, that answers the mislabeling on your medical forms. I apologize dear, I shouldn’t have assumed that you knew.” She smiled at him and patted his hand gently. “Congratulations, you’ve just presented as an O-type. Very exciting news!”


He huffed in amusement, vigorously shaking his head. There was clearly a mixup. “Nah, I’m already sixteen. Anyway, I’m a B-type, everyone in my family is.” 


She hummed thoughtfully to herself. “Unlike A-types, it’s typically straightforward to predict omega presentation due to the latent omegan anatomy. Your parents never did a secondary gender diagnostic ultrasound?”


Denki crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. His parents preferred to treat ailments with weird alternative medicine. He wasn’t surprised he’d missed a common medical procedure. That didn’t automatically mean that he was omega though. He was nothing like an omega. O-types almost never became heroes. The only two that he met in the heroics course were Tamaki and Midoriya. They were undeniably strong, but they were also shy and modest. They had a demure nature and softness that one expected from a good omega. Denki was loud, improper, gregarious, and had no brain to mouth filter. The only omega he’d heard of with traits like that were the highly sexualized ones in movies. 


“I...I guess not. Mom had a home birth and isn’t keen on doctors.” His mother delighted in ranting about the evils of modern medicine to anyone who’d listen. It was pretty embarrassing. “Everyone assumed I was beta.”  


Recovery Girl clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Well that’s not your fault dear. Don’t fret, we have plenty of information here and I’m happy to answer any questions.” 


He stared at her and squeezed the capture scarf tight in his hands. “Omega huh,” he murmured. “No way.” 


Despite his insistence, the puzzle pieces were snapping into place. What other explanation could there be for what happened during sparring? His cheeks flushed with realization. He had been pinned under an alpha and smelling his pheromones when he presented as an omega. He had been writhing and moaning from the burning that rushed through him. It had been so uncomfortable. What did that scene look like to everyone? A bitch in heat probably. The whole class saw. A memory that moments ago filled with him pride, suddenly made him want to curl up into a ball and disappear. His eyes watered and he dropped his chin to his chest.


“C-Can I have a moment to myself?” His voice was shaky. 


“Yes, of course dear. I’ll let you process for a bit.” She gave him a concerned pat on the hand, but stepped around the curtain to give him space.


He brought his knees up to his chest and felt his electricity pulse anxiously within him. The heightened sense of smell was just like what Hitoshi complained about. Hitoshi was sixteen too, and only presented a couple of months ago. None of Denki’s excuses or explanations held up. He was an omega, there was no escaping that truth.


He thought back to when everyone found out the mysterious transfer student was an A-type, it had happened only a few weeks after Shinsou joined class 2-A. Kaminari was sure that he was the first person who had noticed when Shinsou didn’t show up for class. He already had a wildfire crush at that point, the absence of the purple haired boy was all that had danced through his head all day. It was even weirder when he hadn’t seen Shinsou around the dorms after class either.


Shinsou had reappeared the next day wearing a high collar jacket, despite the unusually warm weather. He had looked worn out, the shadows under his eyes remarkably stark against his pale skin. At the time, Kaminari was sure his crush must be sick. He whined incessantly to Mina about if he should make Shinsou soup or not, until she kicked him out of her room. He then impulsively jacked some of Todoroki’s soba from the kitchen, an act of heroic courage to be sure. He snuck back upstairs, knocking on Shinsou’s door to deliver the stolen treasure. 


He presented the soup with a wink and dramatic bow, “Feel better sick boy!”  


The taller teen had taken the bowl, but looked deeply confused. “Umm…”


 “Wait, you are sick right?” Denki blurted out, instantly regretting his life choices.


Shinsou laughed, a full warm laugh that Denki had never heard from him before. It made his heart race. The taller boy then rolled his violet eyes and sighed, “Thanks Kaminari.” He gently shut his door before the blonde could formulate a response. 


Shinsou had shown up to the next school day with a thick black scent suppressant collar strapped around his neck. The school uniform didn’t grant him the coverage that his bulky jacket in the dorms had. Kaminari had felt rather foolish, his crush hadn’t been sick at all. He’d presented his secondary gender. As a B-type, it’d been hard for Kaminari to place what Shinsou presented as. The scent suppressant collar didn’t help at all either, he couldn’t smell anything. Fortunately he hadn’t been left wondering long. 


“Fuckin’ great, another knothead,” Bakugou sneered when Shinsou passed him. The statement was a bit ironic, the blonde alpha postured more than any A-type he’d ever met.


Shinsou had frozen in place, his eyes going wide and his cheeks flushing pink. Kaminari had felt a surge of protectiveness, but also bewilderment. Sure, Bakugou had been crude. However Shinsou didn’t normally let Bakugou get under his skin. Plus, by Bakugou’s standards, it’d almost been a friendly acknowledgement of a new alpha. Maybe Shinsou just didn’t know the abrasive teen well enough back then to realize that. 


Iida’s hands were prepped in chopping motions, ready to spring up in indignance. However before the class president could begin his lecture, Aisawa popped up from behind his desk, dawned in his yellow sleeping bag.


 “Everyone sit down and be quiet.” He’d managed to be intimidating even in the form of a yellow caterpillar.


Kaminari glanced over at Shinsou who had hurriedly taken his seat. Shinsou fiddled with the black collar and still had a tinge of pink to his cheeks. The newly presented alpha hunched in his seat and glared at his empty notebook as if it held the answers to the universe. Kaminari frowned. His behavior had been so different from other students who presented as alpha. They all strutted into the class as if they were wearing a badge of honor. Shinsou had always been modest and even self-deprecating at times, but this was beyond that. He’d looked ashamed. Kaminari had wanted to ask his crush about it, but the questions didn’t feel appropriate at the time. This was all before they were dating, they were nearly strangers back then. 


Denki rubbed his temples, mulling over the memory in his mind. Now he really wished he talked to Hitoshi about his reaction to presenting as alpha. Maybe it would’ve helped him understand the chaos of emotions currently rampaging inside him. His boyfriend had a way of making confusing things come into focus.


Recovery Girl peered around the curtains, “How are you feeling hun?” 


“Alright, I guess,” he shrugged. 


She padded over to his bedside, a pink collar clutched in her hands. “Do you have any questions for me?” 


He bit his lip, “You said I’ll have cramping until my first heat. What happened earlier today didn’t count as being in heat?” 


She shook her grey head, “That’s a common misconception, you won’t experience your first heat until roughly two weeks after presenting. Luckily that means you have plenty of time to learn and prepare.”  


She busily began fastening the pink collar around his neck as she continued, “Until your first heat it’s recommended you wear this pheromone suppressant. Your hormones will be fluctuating and it can take some time to control.” He felt a tug as she slipped a finger under the choker, testing its tightness. “How does this feel?” 


“It’s fine.” It was a bit tingly against his skin, but that was probably normal. He squirmed a bit, starting to feel restless. “When can I leave?” 


“You are free to go.” She gestured to the papers on his nightstand, “There is a list of supplies and important information here. Please read it over and come in for a check up in a few days. I’m sure you’ll think of more questions by then.” 


A thought suddenly occurred to him, “What should I do if the cramping hurts really badly?” 


 “Try over the counter medication and a heating pad. If that doesn’t help, come in and we can discuss options.” 


He left with the bundle of papers clutched in his hands. It was a bit surprising that he hadn’t been bombarded by the rest of 2-A. Perhaps Aizawa warned them to give him space, that seemed like the sort of thing he’d do. Denki had been in sick bay so long that he’d missed the rest of the school day. Only a handful of students were left lingering in the hallways.


As he walked down the hall he could swear that other students were pausing to look at him. A boy he didn’t know caught his eye and abruptly turned to fiddle with a locker. Weird, but he figured he was imagining things. He scratched nervously at the pink collar around his neck. The stupid thing was still so tingly and itchy! He grumbled in annoyance, fumbling to loosen the collar. It was probably just on too tight. 


He stalled at the exit of the building. He could go back to the dorms now, but he’d likely be bombarded with questions from concerned classmates. The memory of him writhing and moaning on the floor filled his mind. His cheeks turned pink. Perhaps it’d be wise to stall a bit. He looked down at the papers still clutched in his hand. Recovery Girl gave him a supply list, the pharmacy would still be open now. He might as well get the errand over with. Shoving the papers into his backpack, he started heading off campus.


He’s fiddling with his cellphone to look up the pharmacy’s hours when he overheard  it. 


“You hear that a kid from that hotshot second year class went into heat during training?” 


Denki’s head shot up so fast he nearly dropped his phone. A group of three upperclassmen were walking just in earshot ahead of him. Two guys and a chick. Even from a distance they looked much older than him, it’s crazy what a few years could do. 


“The little electric guy right? The one that got creamed at the sports festival,” the male with black spiky hair said scathingly. 


“Figures the runt of that class would be an omega!” The girl laughed and tossed her long blonde hair.


Denki scowled and ground his teeth, he had half a mind to tell them off. They were obviously talking about him. What bullshit. He made it to the final event at the sports festival, that was better than plenty of his classmates! 


“He flirted with the alpha girl who beat him. Typical omega, thirsty for knot even during a competition,” the tall red-head male nudges his friend. “Clearly that class can’t keep their omegas satisfied. Not such hot shits after all.” 


“I bet he went into heat during class on purpose.” 


“You’re totally right! What a slut.” 


At that point, Denki’s face was burning with embarrassment. He’d never been seriously referred to that way before, it was strange. Sure he was a bit of a flirt, but it’d never been a problem before. How did gossip spread this fast anyway? It wasn’t even accurate information. Recovery Girl said that he hadn’t gone into heat yet. He just presented, that’s all. He wasn’t sure why, but this fact felt important to him. 


“Feisty omega like that just need a good knotting from the right alpha,” the black haired teen leered. “I bet he can go for hours.” 


“Psh who's the thirsty one now,” the blonde girl playfully punched his shoulder. “You’ve been like this since that beta from the business department turned you down.”


The hair on Denki’s arms stood on end. This was starting to feel super sketchy. He’d been unconsciously trailing behind them for a while and they weren’t on campus anymore. His eyes darted around the empty street. Time for him to take an alternative route. 


Right on queue, a sharp pain jolted in his abdomen. He yelped and doubled over, clutching his middle. The tender gland on his neck throbbed and the collar burned more than ever. 


“What the fuck?” It was the rough voice of the black haired alpha teen. “Speak of the devil.”


A rough hand yanked Denki’s chin up to force him to look into the dark eyes of the upperclassman. The older boy reeked of pepper and Denki nearly gagged from the odor. Was the alpha releasing his smell on purpose? Denki’s eyes darted over the uniform. The badges signified the heroics department. He took a shuddering breath, he was panicking for nothing. He wasn’t going to be attacked by a UA Heroics senior, even if the guy was crude. 


“You like being talked about cute little omega?” The alpha teen teased, all his teeth showing. “You sure smell like you do. So sweet.” 


Denki was rooted to the spot as his cheek was caressed. What was happening? He wanted to protest, but he couldn’t seem to formulate the words. He gulped, it was like his throat was closing in on itself. Why was it so hard to breathe? He resisted the urge to shut his eyes and curl away. He could shock the guy, but wouldn’t that be an overreaction? Another sharp cramp spasmed inside him and he bit his lip to hold back a whimper. 


“Mm you like that huh? You’re wearing this so loose.” A finger looped under the slack of his collar and dragged across his neck. “Hoping we’d smell you, sweet thing?” 


The rough finger curled against his neck, pressing, closing. An icy chill shot down Denki’s spine and he fought back a shiver. The finger gilded against his tender scent gland and a spark of electricity unwittingly jolted through him. He sputtered as the hand that looped around his collar jerked away. 


“No,” he managed to finally blurt out. “No.”


The older teen’s grin was replaced by a scowl. He snatched Kaminari’s thin wrist roughly, yanking him to his feet. He towered over the blonde.


“Dude, just let it go,” the redhead muttered to his friend. 


The hand on Denki’s wrist was tight enough to bruise. The alpha’s face was screwed up with fury. “I’m so sick of you, you cocktease omega. I compliment you and you shock me. Y’know my quirk is energy draining? Just try that again bitch.” 


“It’s not worth it man,” the redhead grabbed the alphas shoulder. 


“I’m outta here,” the girl sounded exasperated. “Stupid omega drama.” 


The alpha snarled, “You’re lucky I’m such a nice guy. I could easily say your scent drove me into a rut, no one would blame me.”


 Denki tried to yank his arm away, but the attempt was feeble. The grip was too strong to wriggle out of. The power was seeping out of him like the plug had been pulled on his energy. The blood pounded in his ears. He had to get out of here.


The alpha continued, “Strutting around with a loose collar, scent flaring. You’re clearly asking for it.” 


Fuck this. Denki wasn’t some helpless omega in distress. He was a hero in training! Electricity crackled around him and the alpha’s body convulsed with light. The telltale warm buzzing in his brain warned him to reel it in. The sparks stopped and the unwelcome hand on his wrist at last released. His paralysis lifted and his legs started moving. He was running away from the pained shouts, not bothering to look back at the damage. 


He wasn’t sure how long he ran. He just knew he had to get away, far away. His hazy mind was filled with static as his feet pounded the pavement. His eyes stung and his heart rammed against his ribcage. Why had he frozen up before? It was like he’d reverted back to his freshman self, terrified during his first combat. He sniffed and wiped an arm angrily over his wet face. His foot caught on a rock and twisted painfully. He tumbled to the pavement, shredding his hands in a poor attempt to catch himself. He remained in a heap on the ground, his muscles aching and chest burning. He couldn’t even run away right. 


“Fuck,” he bit out with a sob. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 


Snot ran down his quivering chin and his vision blurred with tears. Trembling, he pushed himself to a sitting position. He couldn’t just lay on the sidewalk like a dead possum. Had he always been this useless? Maybe that asshole alpha was right. He was the runt of his class, his scores were deadlast after all. His shoulders shook with a fresh wave of tears. He had to stop crying. He was acting like a sniveling crybaby. An omega. He hugged his legs. His pants had ripped open at knee when he fell, the skin below was raw. What a mess.


He sniffed and stood on shaky legs. His vision blurred and he swayed, slumping against the vending machine next to him. Holy shit, he attacked an upperclassman. Why did he let it escalate to that point? He had his provisional heroes licence for crying out loud. He hoped and prayed that they wouldn’t report him. It’d be their word against his. What if the guy claimed Denki purposefully drove him into a rut? He was already getting called a slut without that on top of it. How humiliating. He didn’t want to repeat his side of the story. He wanted to shove it in the back of his mind and pretend it never even happened. What would he say in his defense anyway? The alpha said he smelled good and touched his neck. Denki freaking electrocuted him. 


 With a groan, the blonde leaned forward, forehead-first, against the cold vending machine. The lights of the machine blinked happily and he stared dully at a Pocari Sweat within. Just when he thought he was coming to terms with presenting as omega, the assholes had to kick him down. His wrist was still throbbing from being grabbed, it was totally going to bruise. God, why was the world so shitty? Had it always been this shitty? How had he not noticed? He was sure his boyfriend would have some choice words for this line of thought.


 He pushed away from the machine and fumbled in his bag for some coins. His fingers were still shaking and he shook his hands, annoyed with himself. Get it together Denki. He jabbed the blinking button for the Pocari Sweat. The sports drink tumbled down with a thud. Popping the cap off, he took a greedy glub of the tangly drink as he whipped out his phone. He ignored the message notifications and checked the map instead. He groaned when he saw how far he’d gone in his panicked state. He had to hurry to get back to the dorm before curfew. Besides, he really didn’t feel like walking home after dark. You’re clearly asking for it. He adjusted the collar around his neck as tight as possible before heading to the pharmacy.


A soft bell jingled when he finally entered the pharmacy. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the overbright fluorescent lighting. Walking to the aisles, he skimmed over the supply list with a furrowed brow. What the hell? He seriously doubted he was going to find nesting kits at the pharmacy. Was all this junk really necessary? He didn’t even know what a lot of it was. His cheeks flushed when he searched ‘heat relief stimulation device’ on his phone. Well then. He thought that was just a made-up porn thing. Swallowing, he decided to focus on the G rated supplies. 


When he’d got up that morning he hadn't expected his day would end with him staring helplessly at rows of pads. Unscented, odor blocking, ultra size, slim fit, he had no idea where to even begin. He snatched a colorful variety pack labelled ‘slick absorbency pads’ and put them discreetly under the magazine in his basket. That’d just have to do. 


He thought back to the horrible cramping and sought out a heating pad. He wandered awkwardly down a few aisles. He really didn’t want to ask the clerk for assistance. He caught his reflection in a mirror by the hair products. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. His cheeks were tear streaked and he had dried snot around his nose. He looked like shit. He grabbed some face wipes and proceeded to hunt down the heating pad.


It took way too long to find the stupid heating pad, the thing was expensive too. Being an omega was a total rip off. Why were they allowed to charge so much for essential health items like this? With a defeated peek at the long list of unlocated gear, he went to check out counter. He’d just have to get the rest of it later. The only cashier was a gangly teen with a face full of acne. 


“Of fucking course,” he muttered to himself. 


That really wasn’t the sort of person he wanted ringing up his omega hygiene products. He scowled as he set his things on the conveyor belt. Pizza face better keep his thoughts to himself. The scanner beeped as the magazine he didn’t even want was swiped. Pizza face scanned the rest of the items with the same bored expression. 


“Cash or card,” he deadpanned.


“Um, card.”


The items were paid for and unceremoniously tossed in a plastic bag, the vacant expression never faltered from the clerk’s face. Denki left the store feeling slightly bad for the internal nickname he’d given the guy. 


Denki hurried back to the campus, furtively scrubbing his disgusting face with the wipes. He just wanted this shitty day to be over already. His bed and the fetal position called to him. 


Unfortunately his classmates had other ideas. As soon as he entered the common room he was bombarded with Mina, Sero and Kirishima. Bakugou glared at him from his spot on the couch. Koda and Sato caught sight of him from the kitchen and made a beeline to exit the room, clearly not wanting any part of the drama.


A pink blur nearly knocked him over in a tackle hug. “Oh my god, you’re okay! We went to sick bay and Recovery Girl said you already left! Why weren’t you responding to your texts? Why didn’t you tell us you were omega?” Mina was squeezing him and shooting questions rapid fire.


“Cool it Mina, you’re gunna give him a heart attack,” Kirishima gently extracted Mina from the blonde. 


“Dude you look like shit,” Sero wrinkled his nose. 


“Some of you have never had a pheromone driven meltdown and it shows,” Denki quipped. He glanced towards the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. How could he find a simple way to slip away? He tried to force his signature mischievous grin, but it felt strange on his face. He didn’t like the serious expressions they regarded him with. 


“Why did you keep it a secret? Nothing wrong with being O-type,” the redhead clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. Denki jumped slightly at the contact. 


He let himself be steered towards the couches and attempted to think of a clever response. He never liked talking about how eccentric his parents were about medical stuff. The fact he hadn’t known his secondary gender was pretty embarrassing. Typical stupid Denki. 


“Girls dig a man of mystery,” he gave a strained tight lipped smile and winked. 


“Cut the shit dunceface,” Bakugou barked from his spot on the couch. “You couldn’t keep a secret to save your life.” 


Denki cringed and ducked his head. Damnit, of course Bakugou would call him out. He had to keep it together. It was just his friends being curious! He was trying to act like his regular bubbly self, all smiles and jokes. Instead he was displaying the worst omegan stereotypes. A jumpy rabbit, scared of his own shadow. Not the best impression as a newly presented O-type. He tried to discreetly wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. After all that happened today, it was impossible to act normal. Bakugou’s sharp red gaze did him no favors. 


“Fine. I didn’t know,” he confessed with a scowl. “Laugh it up, ha ha.” 


No one laughed.


 “Ahh that must’ve been so scary for you!” Mina was hugging him again. She was warm and the fragrance of sour plums surrounded him. It was oddly calming and made his eyelids droop. 


He realized what was happening and shoved her off. She stumbled back, caught off guard by his hostile reaction. Just because he was an omega didn’t mean he needed her releasing calming alpha pheromones. Why did everyone keep using their pheromones on him? The peppery smell of the upperclassman alpha filled his memory and he shivered.


“Quit it with the smells,” he snapped.


Her lip quivered and she looked like she’d been slapped. Kirishima cut in before she could begin the theatrics. 


“Hey man, she wasn’t marking you,” he said reproachfully. “She’s just trying to help. That’s what friends do.” 


“Right,” Denki mumbled. He hated seeing her hurt expression. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? He scratched at the irritating collar on his neck. A small shock sparked on the metal clasp. He felt like he was vibrating with nervous energy. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need help.” 


“Why didn’t Recovery Girl heal your bruises?” Bakugou pointed at him with calculating narrowed eyes. 




“Oh man, that looks nasty!” Sero stepped close and grabbed his arm, yanking up the sleeve of Denki’s jacket. 


The sudden pressure on his arm made every muscle in his body go rigid. His voice caught in his throat and he choked out a desperate strangled sound. His vision blurred at the edges. The grip was firm and a figure towered over him. He stared down at his arm with wide horrified eyes. What a slut. The pulled up sleeve revealed the angry dark circles that had bloomed on his skin. The upperclassman’s greedy hand had marred his flesh. Those disgusting fingers had dug bruises into him. The marks were exposed for all to see. Cocktease omega. A surge of panic shot through him and electricity crackled in the air. The grip on him released and he could hear a yelp of pain.


“Shit Kaminari, that hurt!” 


“Hey hey hey, calm down. Calm down.” 


“The fuck?!” 


He felt dizzy. He didn’t want to think about it. Why were they trying to make him think about it? Why wouldn’t they just leave him be?


“J-just back off,” he gasped out. The air around him still sparked with static and light. 


He shoved past them with his heart thudding in his chest. He bolted to the staircase, ignoring the high pitched call of: “But what about dinner?!” 


He took the stairs two steps at a time and made a beeline to his room. He slammed shut his door and locked it with trembling hands. His bag was unceremoniously dropped and he dove head first into his bed. He pressed a pillow over his head, blocking out the muffled sound of voices in the hallway. Eventually all went quiet. He curled in a tangle of blankets. He was exhausted. His body ached. At some point he dozed off, his face smothered in his pillow.


A soft knocking on his door made his eyes flutter open. He rolled to his side and stared at the wall. Shit, it was probably his friends. Checking in to see if he was still an absolute crazy person. He’d really need to apologize to them later. He made a total ass of himself. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands. He knew he should answer the door, but his limbs were so heavy. The concept of talking to another human being was exhausting. He’d just freak out again. He’d make things worse. He was sick of everyone seeing him so weak. The knocking stopped. A short while later his phone dinged with a notification. He picked up the phone with a heavy heart.


Hitoshi Bae: Hey, guess you went to bed early. I hope you’re ok. Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow? 


He swallowed his guilt. Shit. He shouldn’t have ignored the knocking. First he was an ass to his friends and now to his boyfriend as well. Hitoshi deserved better. All this drama couldn’t have been easy on him either. The guy already had a lot on his plate without a disaster boyfriend electrocuting everyone. Denki put down his phone with a sigh. He’d have to reply later, since he was supposedly sleeping. At this point he couldn’t really think of coherent response anyway.


With a sigh, he got up to get ready for bed. He had a bad day, but he wasn’t a barbarian. A guy had to brush his teeth. He wiggled out of his pants and lazily tossed his clothes on the bathroom floor. He frowned at his reflection. He really did look like shit. His hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot. He avoided looking at his bruised arm.


 He turned the knob for the shower and stepped into the mist. The warm water felt soothing on his grimy skin. He sunk to the floor and leaned heavily against the wet tiled wall. Sitting in the shower always felt comforting to him. When he was a child he’d sit and pretend he was a frog in a warm downpour of rain. He blinked water from his eyes and lazily nudged the bar of soap with his toe. His knee was skinned from falling earlier and his hands stung from the scrapes. His golden eyes trailed down to examine his arm. Dark bruises. He felt so dirty, disgusting. He snatched the soap and coated his washcloth in suds. Gently he cleaned the dirt out of his raw knee. It stung. He still felt disgusting. Aggressively he scrubbed every inch of his skin until the flesh became pink from abrasion. Hoping we’d smell you, sweet thing? He roughly massaged shampoo into his scalp. He couldn’t get what happened earlier that day out of his head. It was just some alpha jerks, why was he trapped in a thought loop about it? It was over, it already happened. Even after the conditioner was rinsed from his locks, he still didn’t feel clean. Why? There was nothing left to do. He turned off the water and wrapped himself in the fluffiest towel he owned. It always made him feel like a cozy burrito, instead he felt hollow. 


Once he was dried and cozy in his pajamas, he frowned at his bed as if it insulted him. His mind was still racing and he kept getting twisting cramps burning in his abdomen. Sleep wasn’t happening, he needed to distract himself. Well if his mind was going to fixate on it, he’d better inform himself. He curled up with the papers Recovery Girl gave him, his new heating pad resting on his tummy. 


He never realized how ignorant he was about omegas. He read through the papers with wide eyes. It was fascinating, but very dry medical reading. Eventually the medical papers no longer sufficed for his curiosity and he jumped onto the internet. In the wee hours of the night, his face was lit by the glow of his phone as he swiped through article after article on secondary gender dynamics. He tried to avoid opinion pieces, but still stumbled across a few articles that clearly had a bias about what omegas were good for. It wasn’t their dashing personality. He’d wrinkle is nose when he’d come across a line about how omega’s bodies programmed them to need to reproduce and become mothers. That omega who never had children would become heat mad and sexually act out. What did sexually acting out even mean? Obviously many people thought that omega either fell into two camps: mothers or whores. There was no grey area. He’d wince and quickly click to a different page. What a slut. He wasn’t a mother after all. 


All the focus on pregnancy weirded him out. In a vague way he figured he’d be a parent someday, but was an abstract concept at best. Now there were people who thought that reproducing was all he was really good for. He put a hand on his stomach. He’d known that omega males could get pregnant, but applying it to himself was bizarre. An image of a purple haired baby shooting out little bolts of lightning drifted across his mind. He squealed and buried his face in his pillow. He was officially a crazy person. Why the hell did he think of that? Hitoshi and he had barely started dating. They’d never done more than kissing! Shit was he turning into some horrible baby crazy domestic omega nightmare. The thought made him feel queasy. He wanted to be a cool strong hero who saved people, someone to be admired. It was difficult to line that image up with all the things he was reading about omegas. 


The information on alpha and omega courting practices were just as cringe worthy. It was hard to tell how much of it was just outdated nonsense that no one did anymore, like writing letters. A few articles claimed that a proper omega shouldn’t ever be left alone in the same room as an alpha. Denki couldn’t even count the number of times he’d done exactly that. Besides, why just alphas? It’s not like betas couldn’t fuck. Hitoshi hadn’t cared at all that Denki was a beta, it’d never been brought up. Would him being an omega change things? Ironically enough, their relationship would be more socially acceptable this way. Two men that couldn’t reproduce was against nature. However now that one of them was omega suddenly the relationship was perfectly natural. They were the same people either way, the logic was absurd.


He scowled, that acceptance was a double-edged sword. It cast Denki into a role that he never signed up for, the demure submissive omegan partner. The idea of being sexually submissive never used to bother him. His mouth watered at the idea of having Hitoshi writhing under his fingertips. However, he’d had just as many daydreams about his crush pinning him down fiercely. In his fantasies he even imaged Hitoshi brainwashing him with that husky voice of his and becoming his personal puppet. This secret fantasy was extremely embarrassing, his cheeks became pink just at the thought of it. However, he always just wrote it off as a typical quirk kink. People always found ways to sexualize quirks. There was tons of porn related to electricity. Somehow, his O-type status completely altered his attitude about these kinks. Shame sunk its teeth deep into him. Why did he have to be this way? He thought of the articles about omega’s natural submissive instincts and was hit was a wave of nausea. Feisty omega like that just need a good knotting from the right alpha. He chucked his phone into the blankets and curled into a little ball, clutching his heating pad close. He didn’t want to be an omega, he just wanted to be himself.