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The Gift

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“I’m going to kill Icy Hot!” Bakugou growls as he barely dodges an insanely sharp ice spear. 


Deku ignores his grumbling and refocuses his efforts on apprehending the chilly villain. He narrowly escapes a jagged wall of ice as he shoots out black whip in the direction of the villain's hands. “It’s not his fault he’s in rut right now, Bakugou!” Deku’s whip encircled the villain’s hands and he yanks him forward into a flurry of Bakugou’s smaller explosions. 


“Why do you guys need a whole fucking week to be off work?!” He yells loudly as he slams a sparking fist into the villain's stomach. “It’s not practical. Take your goddamn suppressants and schedule your rut for the weekends!”


Deku rolls his eyes as he floats with the semi-conscious villain still ensnared in the tendrils of black whip. “Because that’s exactly how biology works, right, Kacchan?” 


“Biology is fucking stupid!” Bakugou blasts off to follow him, complaining loudly in the ear piece. “You never take a week off for your heat. Why does the princess get to take a week off for rut?” 


“Because everyone’s cycle affects them differently and Shouto, well…” Deku trails off. 


“He’s a whore.”


“It’s biology , Kacchan!” 


“Fuck biology!”


“Says the beta,” Deku fires back. 


“Oi! Nerd, pay attention! The villain is waking up!” 


Bakugou’s warning comes too late. A dagger of ice pierced Deku’s side, sending numbing pain shooting through his body. His quirks falter and he and the villain begin hurtling extremely fast toward concrete. 


“News crew,” Deku’s voice is pained as he alerts Bakugou to that. 


“I got you!” Bakugou rockets forward, wrapping his arm around Deku’s shoulder and helping him land safely. The villain creates a curving slide of ice to escape and flees the scene just as the first reporter rushes forward. 


“Deku! Ground Zero! How did the villain escape?!”


Bakugou’s lips curl back from his teeth and he lets out a ferocious growl. “With a cheap fucking shot.” 


Deku groans and pulls together a small smile. “I’m fine. Nothing Recovery Girl can’t fix!” 


“Are you saying you’re injured?” The reporter shoves her microphone in Deku’s face. He pushes it back before Bakugou has a chance to destroy it. 


“Pretty badly, so if you’ll excuse us.” He leans on Bakugou for support until they reach the ambulance. “Do you mind helping me onto the gurney?” He wheezes as pain lances through his side again. 


“Useless omega,” Bakugou chides. Deku knows his insult is his way of dealing with the concern and fear. 


“Says the beta,” he jokes back. 


“The beta that saved your life back there. Don’t be dead weight! At least fucking help a little bit. You’re a fucking tank, nerd.” Bakugou scoffs underneath his breath, “Biology,” and continues to grumble as he struggles to help Deku onto the gurney. 


“I’m the exception to the rule,” Deku chuckles, wincing as he clutches at his side. He is. He’s not the typical omega and they’ve since pieced together that being given his quirk before presenting altered his physiology drastically. Instead of being small and lean, Deku is, for lack of a better word, massive. He’s kept his secondary gender to himself, with the exception of a handful of colleagues, because he doesn’t need nor want the media attention that accompanies the disclosure of an omega pro in an alpha dominated industry. 


Bakugou sharing his secondary gender helped to boost his ranks and there was an influx of people, worldwide, who came out as Beta, several of them retired and currently active pro’s. Shouto coming out as an alpha was not a shock to anyone. He was built like his father and he never shied away from flashing his alpha fangs when posing for pictures in the press. 


However, an omega hero was extremely rare and Deku doesn’t want to deal with the potential fallout that more than likely will accompany the revelation of his secondary gender.


“Deku?” The EMT’s concerned tone pulls him out of his hazy reverie. 


“Mmm?” He looks over at the small woman. Her hand covers her nose and mouth. 


“Uh, your scent? It’s very strong.” 


“My...scent?” His blood stained fingers reach up to press down on the sticky adhesive patch that covers his scent gland only to find that it was gone. 


“Listen lady,” Bakugou points a finger in her face. “If this shit gets out, we’ll know it was you and suing you for libel or slander or whatever the fuck, would be the least of your concerns. Got it?”


The doors slam shut behind Bakugou and the siren is thrown on by the driver. Before they pull off, the poor fool looks over his shoulder and breathes in deeply. He exhales slowly and eyes each one of them before settling his gaze on Deku. 


“You gotta be shitting me. You’re an omega?!” He inhales deeply again, his eyes falling shut as his nostrils flare. When they open again his pupils are dilated. “Good god your scent… you’re not mated?!” 


“HEY FUCKWAD!” Bakugou shouts angrily. “Put your dick back in your pants and drive this piece of shit before I yank your fucking fangs outta your empty head.”


Worry tries to attack Deku’s system, but the pain is too much and before he gives himself over to the darkness flirting with the edges of his vision he whispers, “Please Kacchan?”


“I got you, nerd.” 


He in fact, did not. By the time Deku comes to in a sterile hospital room, his side bandaged and his mind foggy from painkillers, Bakugou is pacing the floor angrily and cursing out their publicist. 


“What the hell do we pay you for?! You’re completely fucking useless! FIX IT BEFORE HE FINDS OUT! Fuck!” His cell phone shatters against the wall and he pulls his hands through his hair, huffing an exasperated sigh. 


Deku tries to sit up in bed and the sound of the rickety hospital bed underneath him startles Bakugou. “What happened?” 


Bakugou stares at him, rage making his red eyes flash. “Not now. Later.”






Deku pulls himself up to a sitting position and firmly insists, “Katsuki.” 


Bakugou narrows his eyes in Deku’s direction. “Can you wait until we’re out of the hospital at least?”


“No. What happened?” The television clicks on and channel after channel has a picture of Deku’s smiling face with the caption, 


“The number one hero is an omega?”


Deku slumps back against the bed, exhaling slowly. “Erin?”


“Our useless fucking publicist? Fired.”


“She has kids, Kacchan.”


“She also has a job that she failed to do.”


Deku pulls his shaking hands through his curls. He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up out of his chest. It sounds manic and to be honest, he feels a little manic. He’s vacillating between relief, anxiety, and fear. “Fuck it. What’s the worst that can happen?” 



After a few days of mandatory rest and recuperation (Bakugou threatened him with great bodily harm as did Shouto), he returns to work. He flips the light switch on in his office and his mouth hangs open as he scans the room. Boxes of varying sizes, flowers, cakes, and other pastries are littered throughout the room. 


“What’s the worst that can happen,” Bakugou mocks from behind him. 


Deku turns to face his friend and sweeps his hand out, gesturing at the gifts. “What is this?!”


“Courting gifts,” Shouto replies around a mouthful of an apple fritter. “My guess is the smaller boxes are jewelry. A collar probably. Maybe even caps for your fangs.”  


Deku stares blankly at Shouto, his mind racing to find the appropriate response. However, Bakugou chimes in for him, right on cue, 


“Who in their right fucking mind would give a complete stranger a gift that states they want to own the person?”  


Deku points to Bakugou, “What he said.” 


Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side and slowly it dawns on him. “Izuku, you’ve never been courted.” 


The heat of embarrassment creeps into his cheeks and he mutters, “Never have the time.” 


“It’s not about your time,” Shouto responds. 


“Which is the biggest fucking issue here, but you knotheads don’t see that,” Bakugou snaps. 


Shouto turns an icy stare to Bakugou and silences him with, “Didn’t Eijirou court you in spite of you being a beta?” 


Bakugou huffs angrily and shoves past Shouto. He yells out over his shoulder, “He’s not like the rest of you possessive alpha assholes he’s—“ 


“Different,” Shouto finishes. “We know. You tell us every chance you get.” 


“He doesn’t believe in mating marks because they’re primitive!” Bakugou argues. “I’ve seen what you did to Inasa and Sero’s neck. It’s disgusting.” 


“It’s biology,” Shouto shrugs. 


“Call it what you want halfie, it’s gross.” 


“If you were an omega you wouldn’t feel that way,” Shouto challenges coolly before popping the last bite of the pastry into his mouth. 


Bakugou glares at Deku, who is still struggling to wrap his mind around the sea of gifts. “Well, what do you think Deku?”


“I—“ he’s interrupted by four postal carriers bringing in bags of letters and a cart of boxes. 


“No,” Bakugou shakes his head. “You take this shit back.”


The carrier farthest from Bakugou responds, “Mister Ground Zero, sir, we would if we could.” He looks over at Deku and a furious flush colors his cheeks. “Did you like the gift I sent?” 


“ALRIGHT! That’s it!” Bakugou begins swearing loudly, threatening two of the carriers with grave injury. Shouto laughs and helps himself to one of the larger boxes, pulling out a cupcake. Deku stands idly by, feeling horridly overwhelmed as one of the carriers go back to retrieve one last box. 


“I don’t know what’s in this one, but it seems a little heavy. Lucky,” she winks as she waves goodbye. 


Deku carries the box to the table in the break room and stares down at it. The box itself is wrapped beautifully, with a bright red bow on top. He’s intrigued, but he doesn’t want to get teased by either of his friends so he quickly tears open the box, hopeful to get rid of it and it’s contents before Bakugou comes storming back in and before Shouto comes back with another mouthful of a sweet. 


His heart drops into his stomach and bile rushes up into his throat. He’s gagging, his eyes watering heavily, and just as Bakugou comes into the break room, he makes it to the sink, losing all of the contents of his stomach violently. 


“What the—are you okay?” 


He wants to warn Bakugou to not look in the box, but when he thinks about the box, his stomach turns in on itself and he’s heaving again. 


“Box. Don’t look. Call Eraser.”


Bakugou scoffs and mutters something about Deku being a pussy, but the shriek he lets out has Shouto sprinting to the break room. Deku’s finally able to lift his head. He looks over at a pale faced and shaken Bakugou whose back is pressed against the wall. He’s visibly shaken, but he still has the wherewithal to put an arm out to halt Shouto. 


“Don’t. Go call Eraser.”


Shouto frowns. “What for?” 


Deku retrieves the note that fluttered to the floor and reads the neat handwriting aloud, “What better way to express my intent to mate then to send you the head of a foe.” 


Shouto scoffs, “There’s not really…”


Against his better judgment, Deku goes back to the box and forces down his gag reflex. Bloody, eyeless sockets stare at him. Even without the cruel eyes, he recognizes the pale blue skin of the face. The mouth is forced up into a ghastly grin with sloppy stitches and below the chin, jagged pieces of uneven flesh are still wet with blood that pools sticky and thick in the box. 


His stomach knots and once again, he’s rushing to the nearest receptacle. 


Bakugou sounds shaken and weak when he repeats the same question from earlier, in a completely earnest tone, “What’s the worst that can happen?”