Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s winter when the barbarians come. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Izuku can’t stop cursing as explosions rain down outside. Fire magic roars, villagers shriek, and heavy footsteps all mesh into a horrific cacophony just outside his tiny hut. Izuku is half blind with panic as he stuffs as many herbs and poultices into his get-away bag as he can. Glass shatters and he hears his neighbor’s screams. “Fuck!” 

He doesn’t have any weapons besides the knives he uses to dice up herbs. Too small for any practical combat, but still might be useful anyway. He stuffs one into his boot before grabbing his heavy, cast-iron skillet. He gives it a few swings and—well it’s better than nothing. 

Izuku takes the back exit. The village is in absolute chaos Several homes are burning, pitch-black smoke billowing into the air as the villagers wail in despair. Barbarians are running wild: breaking windows, looting houses, batting off alphas trying to challenge them like they’re swatting off flies. Omegas are chased through the streets, many thrown over shoulders and carried off. Children are screaming, most running for the woods trying to escape the carnage. The barbarians all have blades, but oddly the snow is free of bloodstains. Izuku’s heart is lodged in his throat as he witnesses the catastrophe. 

I have to run, he thinks. He has supplies to heal the villagers once the violence is over. He’s no warrior; he needs to stay alive to be useful to anyone. Run. He has to—has to—

And then he spots her. 

Amongst the collapsing houses and fiery ruins is Eri. A lone beta child he’d healed as an infant. She clutches a doll as she looks at her home burning down in horror. Tears well up in her eyes; her little legs tremble. 

Izuku is seized with sudden purpose. He bolts for her, slinging his pack

over his shoulders and skillet solid in hand. 

“Eri-chan!” he screams. 

She swiveles toward him. 

“Deku-nii-san!” she gasps. 

Izuku sprints through the snow as fast as his legs will carry him, but fuck it isn’t easy. Escaping villagers shove past him, he stumbles as a blast fires off to his right, almost slipping on the snow as he struggles to catch himself. Alphas are wrestling around him, shoving each other up against houses and trading blows. An omega woman is screaming as she clutches her dislocated shoulder. Children are sobbing as parents drag them away from their childhood homes and into the woods for shelter. Eri trembles where she stands. 

Just a bit closer , Izuku thinks furiously. He’s thirty feet away. Eri takes a few, shaky steps toward Izuku and tears blur his vision. Just a bit closer now . 

Ten feet away. He throws his arm out for her.   

“Eri-chan!” he cries. 

Her eyes widen with horror. She recoils suddenly. 

“Deku-nii-san!” she cries, pointing. “Behind you!” 

Izuku’s blood flashes cold as ice. 

And then his body is moving on its own. He swings around, skillet in hand and— bang! Metal strikes flesh. Izuku gasps as the charging barbarian stops dead in his tracks, eyes lolling back as he crumples to the floor. 

There's a wash of horror; Izuku almost dry heaves. Fuck, that was too close, but he can’t linger on it for long. He spins around and falls to his knees beside Eri.

“Are you hurt?” he demands, holding her by the shoulders. When she shakes her head no, Izuku breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank the godstars. Come on. Let’s—” 

A shadow falls over them. 

Izuku’s lungs shrink. He leaps to his feet, spinning around and holding the skillet high—

And there he is. 

He’s tall. Broad shouldered and bare chested, with a billowing red cloak and a dozen dragon-fang necklaces strung around his throat. He’s a looming wall of an alpha as glares at Izuku menacingly. 

Izuku’s heart stops dead in his chest. 

It’s him, Izuku realizes then. The Barbarian King, and the last remaining dragon-kin, Bakugou Katsuki. It has to be him. No one else is as finely decorated. Izuku’s breath hitches. 

For a moment, everything stops. The screaming, the panicked footfalls, the collapsing houses surrounding them. It all freezes, and suddenly it’s just him, the king, and their locked gaze. 

He’s… handsome. Izuku despises himself for noticing, but he can’t help it. More than handsome, the king is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. His rippling muscles, the sharp cut of his jaw, the intelligent glimmer in his gaze. This alpha is…. perfect. And oddly familiar too. Izuku’s inner omega purrs in content and—no, what the fuck? Izuku shakes himself out of it, standing straight-backed and holding his make-shift weapon high as his eyes blaze on the Barbarian King. 

“Let us go,” Izuku orders. 

Katsuki only stares at him. His expression has softened. His blond hair shifts in the breeze, lips parted and eyes wide like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. He looks Izuku up and down once, twice.

And then a savage grin splits his face. 

“Did you do this?” Katsuki demands cocking his head at the barbarian that Izuku knocked out.

Izuku skewers him with his glare. “I’ll do it to you too if you don’t back off.” 

Incredibly, the king laughs. He clutches the flat plane of his bare stomach, his massive shoulders shaking with mirth. 

“Takes one hell of a swing to get Shitty Hair down,” Katsuki muses, sparing his friend a glance. 

And then Katsuki takes a step toward them and Izuku winces, scrambling a step back. Eri whimpers and clutches her nose. Izuku glances toward her and—

That’s when it hits him. 

The king’s scent. 

Izuku shudders. Oh godstars, his scent . Izuku’s knees go soft with it. It curls around Izuku, deep and caramel and rich with enticing pheromones. It’s so inviting, so intoxicating that Izuku’s shoulders go lax against his will. No, stop! Izuku takes another step back, Eri sobbing behind him. 

“Stay back,” Izuku says, firmly. 

“Or what?” Katsuki goads, cocking his head as he takes another stride forward. “You think I’ll go down as easy as Shitty Hair?” 

Izuku swallows thickly, sweating as Katsuki’s scent intensifies. Fuck, it’s like it’s seeping into every particle of his being. He feels it like a buzzing layer penetrating his skin. It’s so fucking good. He didn’t know pheromones could be like this: mind-numbing, mouth-watering, claiming . 

Submit , his inner omega croons. Go to him, go to alpha.  

Izuku grits his teeth against his instincts. 

“Just let us go,” Izuku demands. 

The king takes another step forward, sniffing the air experimentally.

“She your pup?” he asks, nodding at Eri still hiding behind Izuku’s back. Izuku shifts his stance to fully conceal her. 

“Does it matter?” Izuku snaps back. He readjusts his grip on his cast iron skillet. “I won’t let you touch her.”

Katsuki’s lips stretch into a wolfish grin and fuck, why is Izuku’s heart fluttering? It must be the adrenaline. 

“Good,” the king says.

And then he lunges for Izuku. 

Izuku swings the frying pan, but it’s batted out of his hands all too quickly. Katsuki tackles him to the floor and suddenly they’re wrestling like a pair of alphas. 

Oh fuck, Izuku can barely think straight with the intensity of Katsuki’s pheromones. It’s a flurry of limbs and teeth and tumbling. Using all of his strength, Izuku lurches upward and rolls on top, gnashing his little omega teeth and sweating as he struggles to pin the king down. Their hands are clasped, teeth bared at one another, and gazes locked.

“Look at you,” the alpha croons for him and a traitorious arousal ignites in Izuku’s gut. “All this for a pup that isn’t yours?” 

Izuku growls at him meanly, but Katsuki’s grin only grows. Arms trembling, Izuku keeps the king pressed flat to the earth. 

“Eri-chan run!” he screams. And with a sudden lunge, Katsuki flips their positions, pushing Izuku’s back down onto the cold, snow-soaked earth. Izuku spares her a glance. “Go!” 

He can only pray she obeys. Gritting his teeth, Izuku’s knee slams into the king’s crotch and Katsuki oofs. His grip loosens just long enough for Izuku to wriggle out from under him. Izuku scrambles to his feet—only to have a strong hand catch him by the ankle and yank him back down again. 

“Nice try, omega,” Katsuki growls. 

Izuku yelps as he’s dragged across the snow. Kicking, he tries to wrench out of Katsuki’s grip, but godstars the alpha is strong. Even through his panic, Izuku’s inner omega trills. 

Strong mate , it purrs. Strong pups for alpha.  

What the hell? Izuku grits out an irritated sound. For fuck’s sake, this isn’t a mating run, this is a fight for his life! Izuku twists in his grip, kicking Katsuki hard, but Katsuki only cackles. 

“You’re strong for a village boy,” Katsuki grouses, grinning up at him like this is all some game. Izuku hisses at him, but Katsuki’s laugh only grows louder. “But I’m stronger.” 

Katsuki crawls on top of Izuku once again and—fuck, why is Izuku slicking? Horror and humiliation tangle as Katsuki croons softly. Dammit, it’s all so overwhelming. The collision of their bodies, Katsuki’s intoxicating scent engulfing him, the puff of his breath down Izuku’s throat. Izuku writhes underneath him and Katsuki slots a knee between Izuku’s thighs. Izuku gasps. 

“Submit, omega,” Katsuki demands. 

Izuku is seeing stars. Fuck, the pressure against Izuku’s crotch is so good and it infuriates him. Izuku gnashes his teeth angrily, but squirming underneath Katsuki only has him accidentally grinding against his leg and—Izuku’s mouth falls open, a tiny oh escaping him. 

“That’s it,” Katsuki rumbles, grinding on him gently and ah fuck . Izuku whimpers as a gush of slick escapes him. “Good omega.” 

Good omega . The praise makes Izuku’s stomach flutter. His mind clouds with pheromones and sudden arousal. He’s never been touched like this before. Manhandled, grinded on, pinned to the floor. It’s—it’s almost like—wait. Fuck, no! Izuku snarls. He clamps his powerful thighs around the barbarian king’s hips and surges up with all his strength—Aha! Izuku grins as they flip over. Izuku seizes him by the throat as he pins Katsuki to the earth. 

“Let me go or I will strangle you,” Izuku vows. Katsuki’s laugh is wheezy. “ Stop laughing. ” 

Katsuki fumbles for the hand choking him. His massive chest heaving, pink nipples stiff in the cold. He’s grinning even as his face turns red. 

“You’re beautiful,” he rasps.

Fuck. Izuku’s breath stammers. It’s a trick, he knows. A nasty trick trying to get Izuku’s guard down. Izuku’s lips curl as he growls, low and guttural, but Katsuki just keeps smiling.

“You like that?” he breathes, strained through Izuku’s hold. “Being told you’re beautiful?” 

“Shut up!” Izuku snaps, squeezing his throat harder. “I’ll kill you!” 

But Katsuki’s cocksure grin only grows. He rolls his hips underneath Izuku and oh holy godstars. It’s only then that Izuku realizes he’s sitting on Katsuki’s crotch. A hard cock rubs against his ass and fuck, it’s so deliciously thick through their trousers. Izuku’s inner omega feels like singing.

Take me, take me, take me , it chants. 

No , Izuku thinks absurdly. I can’t.  

But suddenly he can’t remember why he can’t. Katsuki’s thick dick is all he can think of. Rutting against his ass, teasing him. The heat of their bodies, the intensity of Katsuki’s scent, the wild chemistry surging through Izuku’s veins. The air is laden with their combined pheromones and his cunt is throbbing with it. Katsuki somehow manages to purr through Izuku’s chokehold, petting Izuku’s thighs appreciatively. 

“Good omega,” he whispers. His hips roll against Izuku in a hypnotic rhythm. “So strong. So brave.” 

Izuku keens at the compliment, rubbing their groins together again. Unconsciously, the grip on Katsuki’s throat loosens. 

“Omega,” Katsuki whispers. His hands pet up Izuku’s chest, rubbing over his small tits in slow, savoring circles. “Pretty omega.” 

“Hng, ah—” Izuku’s blood is spiked with arousal. His nipples are stiff, small cock hard, and cunt dripping. “Ah, ah—alpha.” 

“Your alpha,” Katsuki rumbles. Izuku’s vision hazes over. His lidded gaze drops to look upon his alpha’s face and he’s so enchanting. He’s the most beautiful alpha that’s ever existed. “Your alpha, pretty omega.” 

It feels like his heat is encroaching upon him. His mind is foggy, his limbs hot and heavy. His cunt aches for the stretch of fat alpha cock and he whimpers for it. Still, something nags at the back of his mind. He reaches down and cups Katsuki’s handsome face in hand. 

“Alpha?” he whispers. 

Katsuki nods slowly, taking his wrist and pressing a lingering kiss to the scent gland there. Izuku shivers. 

“Good boy,” he hushes against Izuku’s skin. “That’s right.” 

Alpha has come for me , his omega croons. A smile tugs on the corner of Izuku’s lips. 

And then a shrill shriek shatters the spell. Ringing with alarm, Izuku gasps, suddenly remembering. 

“No,” he says, jolting back in horror. “You’re—” 

It’s too late. Katsuki seizes Izuku by the wrists and rolls them over. Fuck, Katsuki’s hot, heavy body is almost as intoxicating as his scent as it settles on top of him. His knee braces Izuku’s legs, one hand grasping his wrist and the other shoving his face down, thumb slotting between Izuku’s teeth. Izuku bites down hard and Katsuki hisses, yanking his hand back. 

“Get off me!” Izuku roars, thrashing underneath him. 

“Submit, omega,” Katsuki grouses. 

Izuku wants to so badly. Every instinct in his body screams for it. His alpha has won, has tracked him down and pinned him. All there’s left to do is present and have the alpha knot him. But then he thinks of Eri, frightened and alone, and gnashes his teeth. 

“That’s it.” Katsuki shakes with quiet laughter. “Make me fight for it.” 

Izuku growls. He kicks, and lurches, and tries to throw punches. Once, he almost gets the upperhand, but with a snarl, Katsuki presses him flat against the earth once again. 

“ Submit, ” Katsuki presses. Izuku’s body writhes underneath him, both hands pinned above his head. “Submit omega!” 

“ Never .” And Izuku spits in his face. 

Katsuki laughs again, smearing the spittle off his cheek and looking positively giddy. 

“Fuck, you’re something else, arent you?” Katsuki purrs.

A traitorious trill escapes Izuku. Godstars, that’s so embarrassing; he never makes noises like that outside of his heats. 

But then that gives him an idea. He lets his head fall back, hoping his sigh sounds erotic.

“Alpha,” he breathes, slowing his writhing into a sensual roll of his hips. The king hums like he’s pleased. 

“You’re perfect,” Katsuki tells him, dark-eyed and hungry looking. Izuku’s croon is alarmingly close to being genuine. 

“Alpha,” he calls. “Alpha kiss me.” 

Izuku expects teeth. Expects carnage and bruising force and a tongue haphazardly shoved into his mouth. But instead the barbarian king purrs, leaning in to softly kiss his cheek instead. Izuku tries to turn into it, lips parted and ready to be plundered, but Katsuki pulls away. 

“No,” he says, voice gravelly. “Not until I’ve earned you.”

Earned him? Izuku can barely process what that’s supposed to mean, but that hardly matters now. He forces himself to whine pathetically and Katsuki hums, nose trailing up and down the column of his throat. 

“Submit to me,” Katsuki rumbles. “And I’ll give you whatever you desire.” 

“My freedom,” Izuku says immediately and Katsuki laughs. 

“You’ll be freer with me than you’d ever be here, little omega,” Katsuki purrs. He ghosts kisses along the underside of Izuku’s jaw. 

Izuku chuffs at that. His mind is reeling, and he’s never felt more alive. Trapped underneath the most stunning alpha he’s ever seen, feeling the deep tenor of his voice rumbling through him, having his kisses shivering over his skin. He almost forgets his plan to seduce him. 

“Fuck me then,” Izuku says, rolling his hips into him. He still has the knife stuffed in his boot. Maybe he could make a grab for it while they were shedding clothes. Katsuki shakes them both with his quiet laughter. 

“Tell me what you truly desire, and I might.” 

A long, wet stripe is licked up Izuku’s mating gland and Izuku arches up into it, groaning. It’s so wrong; it’s so right. Wild arousal and terror course through Izuku in equal measure. 

And then he sees it. Upside down, as he arches for his alpha, he watches his village burn down behind him. There’s a white-hot stab of panic. 

“The village,” he whispers. The images of the collapsing houses sear behind his eyes. “I want the village safe. Leave them unharmed. Leave and never return.” 

Katsuki considers this for a moment, humming under his breath. 

“Mmmm,” Katsuki says. A soft nip to Izuku’s cheek. “Then submit.” 

Izuku grits his teeth. It’s humiliating, and revolting, and every instinct wants it so badly he thinks he might cry. His body is sore from all this fighting, his cunt aches, and his inner omega is crying for it. To be filled. Fucked. Taken right here in the snow. Desperate desire and shame skitter under his skin. 

Slowly, slowly he tilts his head to the side. Baring his mating gland. Presenting it. Submitting . Katsuki kisses it like he would a long lost lover. 

“Perfect,” he purrs against Izuku’s skin. “Beautiful, wonderful, incredible omega.” 

 Oh. Something melts inside Izuku as Katsuki murmurs his praises. His legs are wrapped around the king, and his hands find the soft fuzz of his hair, cradling the back of Katsuki’s skull as he lavishes Izuku’s scent gland with attention. His wet, hot tongue is hypnotic and Izuku wants it everywhere—in his mouth, swirling around his sensitive nipples, delving between his folds. Izuku’s mind is flooded with sudden strange emotions: relief, ecstasy, affection. It must be the adrenaline, must be some sort of misattributed arousal this can’t be—

And then Katsuki’s teeth sink into his throat. 

“Ah!” Izuku cries, arching off the floor as pain rings through his body. His head spins, endorphins rush, his cunt spasms. A hand fists in Katsuki’s hair. “Fuck!” 

Katsuki growls as claiming venom pumps inside Izuku. Every pulse drags more into Izuku’s swimming head. Alpha, alpha, Katsuki, beloved Katsuki, darling precious Katsuki. He feels the bond threading through his veins, touching the most intimate piece of him. The seat of his soul, the core of his being. Like warm, prodding fingers wrapping around his heart, it claims Izuku’s body as his own. 

Shit. That’ll be a pain in the ass to undo. But Izuku can’t afford to think about that right now. Even through his heady arousal, he thinks of the village and grits his teeth. He’s arched like a bow underneath Katsuki, vivid green curls spilled out onto the snow. Izuku leans in, nuzzling the top of a fuzzy head.

“Call off your dogs,” Izuku wheezes. 

Katsuki ignores Izuku, biting him again. Izuku shivers. 

“ Now ,” Izuku insists, squeezing Katsuki’s hips with his thighs. He groans when he thinks of all the wreckage behind them. “Before they kill anyone else.” 

Katsuki huffs through his nose. 

“Easy, omega, we haven’t come here to kill bumbling peasants,” Katsuki murmurs. He draws back, dark-eyed and looking all too pleased. Izuku growls at him weakly. 

“Then call them off,” he demands. Katsuki rolls his eyes. 

Katsuki sits on his knees, sticking his fingers in his mouth and wolf-whistling.

“Alright, enough you bastards!” he roars. “Back home we go!” 

This is it , Izuku thinks through a haze of claiming venom and hormones. My chance to escape. 

But it’s no use now. He’s been claimed. The natural omegan instinct is to relax. The venom coursing through his system is like liquid sleep. His vision blurs, lids drooping shut. Hurried footsteps crunch through the snow toward them. 

“Your highness,” the voice warbles as Izuku fades. “The omegas. We haven’t found them all—” 

“Nevermind that,” Katsuki snaps. And then his voice turns soft and warm. “We’ve found the omega we’re looking for.” 

“You—” the voice stammers. “Then you’ve—you’ve selected?” 

“My chosen mate,” Katsuki declares. He touches Izuku’s cheek and his dark lashes flutter. “And omegan-consort to the Brittlebone Throne.” 

And at last sleep drags Izuku under. 

When next Izuku stirs, he’s warm and comfortable, surrounded in a nest of fine furs and soft pillows. Godstars, his nest has never felt this good. It’s heavenly, like he’s sleeping on a sun-warmed cloud. He burrows in deeper, purring and relishing just how luxurious it all is. Though he wishes it smelled more like him. Eyes still closed, he gently scents the pillow pressed against his cheek.

Izuku is tempted to go right back to sleep, but something niggles at him. A muted sense of anxiety lingers in his flesh. His neck stings. Like there’s a thorn stuck to the back of his skull, something pokes at his brain, begs him to remember—

Memories hit him like daggers. 

Izuku shoots upright with a gasp. He clutches his throat and fuck it’s there . The claiming bite, imprints of the barbarian king’s teeth. His heart surges up to strangle him. His gaze darts around for a mirror and—wait, where the hell is he?

It must be some kind of tent. The make-shift room is round, with bamboo boning keeping it upright. Thick rugs adorn the floor and heavy drapes line the walls, all in barbarian red and gold. A fire cackles in the center merrily, but it must be an enchanted flame because it gives off no smoke. There’s a little wooden table, a few chairs, and a chest for clothes, but Izuku’s nest takes up most of the room. Silky furs, feather-stuffed pillows, soft and clean linens. It’s so nice that Izuku almost wants to purr. And then he curses himself. 

Don’t fucking purr, you’ve been kidnapped , he thinks furiously. But even now, he feels a pulse of arousal at the memories. The Barbarian King’s scent, his huge, hot body, the way Izuku had slicked for him even as he fought him.

 Izuku groans and buries his face in his hands. All his life he’d sworn never to be one of those cock-hungry omegas that would submit for any knot that came their way—god, how he cringes when he thinks about how brazen he was. He even asked for Katsuki to fuck him. There’s no way the barbarian king wouldn’t take that as blanket permission to—to—

Ah shit . Panic seizes Izuku’s throat. The barbarian king is definitely going to fuck him. Izuku feels electric terror, even as his cunt throbs. He whimpers. Why the hell had he asked Katsuki to fuck him? Godstars, he’s just screwed up so, so badly. 

The tent flap whips open. 

Izuku jolts as a figure steps inside and a heavy, familiar scent fills the room. Dread curdles in Izuku’s stomach. 

There he is. 

The king. His mate . 

Crimson eyes are wide with alarm as they lock gazes. Bare chested, dragon teeth encircling his neck, and sunlight catching in his dandelion hair, for a moment all Katsuki does is stare at Izuku in horror. 

And then he’s moving toward him. Every muscle in Izuku’s body tenses.

“My love,” Katsuki rasps. He rushes to Izuku, cape billowing behind him and brow furrowed with concern. In a blink, he’s on his knees beside the omega, cupping his face in his hands, turning him this way and that as he examines him. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

Soothing pheromones suffuse from Katsuki’s skin like smoke off incense. Izuku can’t help the calm that washes over him. His omega keens at his alpha’s touch. 

And then he feels it. 

Inside him. There’s something foreign settled next to his heart. The pulse of a stranger. A buzz of energy that isn’t quite his own. He feels concern, affection, desire—but they’re not his emotions. Izuku blinks several times, pressing a hand to his chest as he realizes.
No, no, no. Horror drowns everything else out. 

Of course. Just his luck. His inner omega has accepted the mating bond and now a tiny piece of the king's soul—a tiny piece of Katsuki— lives inside Izuku. 

Forever. 

Revulsion is an understatement. 

“Dearest,” Katsuki says, so tender as Izuku trembles. His voice drips with worry. “Tell me. What ails you?” 

Izuku shakes his head over and over again, but the feelings don’t fade. Katsuki’s soul is entwined with his own. The bond was sealed—it shouldn’t have sealed until they consummated, why would it—? Izuku’s breathing comes short and fast. He wrenches himself out of Katsuki’s grip. 

“ What have you done to me, ” Izuku whispers. Katsuki’s concern grows inside him and Izuku despises it. Terrible, ugly thoughts fill his head like a swarm of frantic wasps: trapped, stuck, kidnapped . And even if he escapes he’ll have a piece of his tormentor alongside him forever. Fuck, it’s like he can’t breathe. The tent’s walls are shrinking in on him. 

Katsuki purrs. He reaches out, scenting Izuku’s cheek with his wrist ever-so gently. 

“I’m taking you home,” Katsuki says it like it’s obvious. 

Izuku smacks Katsuki’s hands away with vicious fury.  

“ Don’t touch me, ” he seethes. 

Katsuki startles. Confusion and hurt flicker through the bond. The king shifts back slowly, eyeing Izuku up like he’s wary of him. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Katsuki asks, glaring. He gestures to the luxury that surrounds them. “Is this nest not good enough for you?”
Izuku sees red. 

“You claimed me!” Izuku cries, yanking down the hem of his chemise to reveal the bite. “You claimed me without—without any courting gifts or a proper mating run! You—you attacked my village, tried to kidnap Eri, and then took me without even asking!”

Katsuki’s brows sink into the deepest of frowns. Izuku can feel his confusion through the bond. 

“But you submitted to me,” Katsuki says. 

Izuku waits for the rest, but nothing else comes. Katsuki just continues to frown at him like an idiot. 

Izuku balks. “ And? ”

Katsuki growls under his breath. 

“So I did ask, moron!” Katsuki snaps. “What did you expect after a mating duel?” 

“Mating—” Izuku echoes breathlessly. He blinks several times, not processing. And then he fumes. “That was a fight for my life, you fucking brute!” 

Katsuki shakes his head over and over again. 

“No, you—” A sigh streams between his teeth. “You crooned for me! You—you gave every sign—” 

“I was trying to survive!” Izuku rages. 

Katsuki gets to his feet, lashing his cloak like a whip. He’s bright red with indignation, his massive pecs heaving with labored breath. 

“Do you take me for a fool?” he snaps. “I know when an omega wants me. I know you wanted me.” 

Izuku hates that he can’t deny it. He gets to his feet too, but Katsuki still towers over him. 

“You had no right to claim me,” Izuku seethes. “You ransacked my village, you burned down our houses, you left my people in ruin and you think I’ll just—” 

“You begged me to fuck you!” Katsuki bellows, throwing his hands out in exasperation. “I asked you for your wish—your courting gift—and I gave you your people’s safety!” 

“Oh and what a beautiful gift!” Izuku’s voice is shrill with hysteria. “Not that it means much considering who endangered them in the first place!” 

Katsuki scoffs. He kicks his way out of the nest, pacing around the tent panting and looking half wild. Izuku can feel the storm of his emotions: outrage, horror, disgust, defeat. The king almost laughs. Then shakes his head again. He swivels on Izuku, looming in close, and Izuku feels a bright flash of fear. 

“I’ll have you know,” Katsuki says, so close Izuku can feel his breathing. “That my people were under strict orders not to bring harm to anyone without cause. Alright?” 

The heat of the alpha’s body radiates off him in waves. His scent is sharp with rage, but no less appetizing. Izuku forces himself to make a scornful sound. 

“Right,” he says, chest heaving as he looks Katsuki’s face up and down. “Was that before or after you started burning down our homes?”  

Katsuki sneers. “I said people, not property.” 

“And how many will die out in frigid winter?” Izuku demands. “Without roofs over their heads or food on their tables?” 

Katsuki’s gaze flits over Izuku’s face. 

“I know your kind,” Katsuki says, low and rough. Izuku fights not to shiver. “They’ll band together.” 

Izuku’s outrage flares. 

“My village was already starving!” Izuku snaps. 

The words hang in the air for long terrible moments. Katsuki closes his eyes, jaw working, but no sounds coming forth. Finally, his teeth click shut. 

“Fine,” the king says, clipped. “I’ll send back a party. Tents. Food. Whatever else they require until their homes have been restored.” 

“And why should I believe you?” Izuku challenges. A frustrated sound streams through Katsuki’s teeth. 

“Look at me!” Katsuki bellows. He presses a hand to his naked sternum. “Feel me through the bond! Do you sense any deception?” 

Izuku tries to focus on it. Rage, pain, confusion, sorrow all reverberates through their connection like a terribly mournful song. Izuku’s gaze narrows; if Katsuki is a liar, he’s a good one. 

“You—” 

“I promised you the safety of your village,” Katsuki cuts him off. His crimson gaze is blazing. “I intend to keep that promise.” 

Oh. Izuku can feel it. Katsuki’s sincerity sounds through the bond bright and clear. Izuku hates that he softens somewhat. 

“You mean it?” Izuku can’t help but ask. They’re still nose-to-nose, still breathing into each other’s mouths. 

Katsuki nods shallowly. Izuku licks his lips. 

“And you’ll let me see it?” Izuku presses. At the flicker of confusion through the bond, he adds, “I want to see the village. When it’s restored. So I know you’ve kept your word.” 

Katsuki growls under his breath. 

“If that’s what you require,” he grouses. 

Izuku looks at him then. Really looks at him. Takes in the frown crumpling Katsuki’s brow, the steely glint of determination in his eye, the hard set of his jaw. And still Izuku doesn’t feel any deception through the bond. I’m

“Alright,” Izuku says softly. “Good.” 

“Good,” the king echoes. 

Izuku nods once, nearly breaching the tiny space between them. Katsuki looms just a touch closer, like there’s a subtle gravity between them. Izuku’s head spins with how much he wants him. Katsuki, all over him. Touching him, ravishing him, impaling him with his thick alpha cock. Godstars damn it, it has to be the fresh claiming bite making him this horny. His arousal must leak through the bond, because Katsuki’s scent drips off him like liquid sex. Rich caramel and smokey like dragon fire, it feels like it’s touching the very core of Izuku. 

“Does it hurt?” Katsuki rasps. 

“What?” Izuku’s head is spinning. 

Katsuki nods at the bite on Izuku’s throat. 

“That,” he says. He wets his lips and Izuku feels a tremor of nervousness through the bond. “Does it hurt?” 

“Oh,” Izuku says, more an exhale than a word. “No,” he lies. “It doesn’t.” 

Katsuki doesn’t break their gaze as he leans back. He fiddles with something in his cloak, retrieving a tiny vial from some hidden pocket. 

“If it starts to hurt,” Katsuki says. “Take this.” 

Izuku eyes the small purple vial warily. There must be some anxiety rippling off him, because Katsuki growls through his teeth. 

“Look, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already,” he snaps. “Just—” He thrusts the bottle at him. “Take it.” 

Izuku takes it, if only to avoid further argument. The king could very well change his mind about sending Izuku’s village food and supplies. Izuku will have to be…. pliant. At least until his village is restored. He clutches the bottle to his chest as he bows stiffly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

The king’s ears flush a bright red. 

“Whatever,” he mutters, turning away. 

The silence yawns between them. Distantly, Izuku can hear the barbarians tending to the cookfire outside. The sounds of laughter, easy chatter, and crackling flame. The snap of fabric as the wind tugs on the tent’s walls.

Katsuki clears his throat. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks, voice verging on a rasp. 

“No,” Izuku lies again quickly. He doesn’t know why, but accepting anything more from Katsuki feels dangerous. Like he’s standing on the edge of a snowy cliff and one favor too many will have him tumbling over. “I--I’d like to be left alone. To sleep.” 

Katsuki purses his lips. Izuku doesn’t need the bond to know he’s disappointed. But Katsuki only nods. 

“Fine,” Katsuki says.
And with that he’s off. Cape spinning behind him, he storms out of Izuku’s tent just as quickly as he came. 

The effect is immediate. Once the door-flap to Izuku’s tent shuts behind Katsuki, his scent is cut off and it’s like Izuku can finally breathe again. He gasps like a dying man, sinking to the floor of his overly-luxurious nest, still clutching that vial to his heart. 

What the fuck was that? Izuku can’t help but wonder. How is he so aroused by a man he despises so thoroughly? Are the post-claiming instincts really that powerful?

Now that Izuku is alone it’s all hitting him at once. Oh godstars, his poor village. Ransacked, torn to shreds, ruined. His people are undoubtedly suffering. Izuku can’t stay here, he needs to go to them. His people need their healer.

 Izuku grits his teeth as his throat stings. Claimed by a barbarian king. Fuck, it’s like a nightmare. How the hell did this all happen? Why on earth would barbarians raid a poor, tiny town like theirs anyway? Why would Katsuki claim him ?

Izuku’s mind whirls as he struggles to remember all he knows about barbarians. That they were bloodthirsty, and violent, he’d already seen for himself, but what else? The most famous barbarian was a man named Bakugou Barrok. Katsuki’s ancient ancestor and a dragon kin, he was the first to unite all barbarian clans. He’d nearly taken over the entire kingdom of Yueii with his might. 

And he’d had dozens of claimed omega concubines , Izuku remembers with a sour twinge in his gut. Disgust churns inside him; his inner-omega whimpers thinking about sharing his precious alpha—

Izuku smacks himself hard. 

“No!” he whispers. “Not our alpha, no!” 

But he is , a small voice whispers back. He is our alpha . 

The bite on his throat stings. Izuku shrinks in on himself, curls up into a ball. Pressing his face against a silky-smooth fur, he finally allows himself to cry.

Katsuki’s destroyed about a third of his furniture before someone has the sense to call Kirishima. 

“Whoa!” Kirishima takes a step back as he enters the command tent. Splinters have flown everywhere, rugs torn apart, goose-feathers are splayed across the floor. “Ah, your highness, don’t—!” 

Too late. Katsuki’s heel comes crashing down on the wooden bedframe. The very expensive pre-mating gift his mother had commissioned when Katsuki first announced his quest to find a bride. 

“Oh, Bakugou,” Kirishima bemoans. He shakes his bandaged head and then winces like it still hurts. “That bad?” 

Katsuki rounds on him, eyes bloodshot. “ Horrible. ” 

He goes back to smashing the bedframe. He can’t help it. It’s too cruel, too much of a reminder of his own failures. Magic unspools in his blood, filling and flooding him with fiery strength as he kicks the bedframe so hard it splits in two. 

“Bakugou,” Kirishima bemoans as he watches his fury unfold. “I thought you said you liked him!” 

Katsuki gnashes his teeth, growling slightly as he rounds on him. 

“That’s not—” he winces, groaning as he turns away. Gods, he wishes that were the problem. He’s so distraught he can feel the hold on his human-form weakening. Scales sprout from his cheekbones. The beginnings of great dragon claws turn his hands into a fistful of spears. “He didn’t know!” 

Kirishima blinks exactly twice. “What?” 

“HE DIDN’T KNOW I WAS—” Katsuki can’t even say it. With a roar he stamps on the bed frame, splintering beyond recognition. “Fuck!” 

“Whoaaaaa, okay, okay,” Kirishima says, surging forward and seizing Katsuki’s bicep. He pulls him back just before Katsuki can lunge on the remnant wood. Katsuki skewers him with a glare. “Talk to me. He didn’t know what?” 

Katsuki shakes his head, refusing to look at him. Shame burns inside him like dragon fire. His scales have grown on his arms so thick that Kirishima winces as he keeps a hold on him. 

“He’s—” Katsuki’s face crumples as the words die in his throat. “A fucking idiot!” 

Kirishima’s brows quirk at that. “Huh?” 

“He’s a moron!” Katsuki shouts. His groan is a gutteral, half-beastly thing. “He—he didn’t even know what a courting duel was!” 

Kirishima gapes, aghast. “ What?”  

“I know!” 

“But that’s just common sense!”
“

I know!” 

Gods, it all surges up inside Katsuki again. Magic, outrage, fear. He needs to smash something, smash it hard —Kirishima squeezes his scaly bicep before he can. 

“Oh Bakugou…” Kirishima says sympathetically. “Is he upset?” 

“He—” Katsuki rests his head in a clawed-hand. “He despises me.” 

That hangs heavy in the air for long, painful seconds. Kirishima grimaces. 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

Another painful silence. Kirishima’s lips smack as they part in the heavy quiet. 

“But the mating bond took, didn’t it?” Kirishima asks. At Katsuki’s nod, he continues, “Then at least his omega likes you.” 

Katsuki… softens at that. It was a little odd that the bond sealed without a proper knot. That could only mean Deku’s inner omega had accepted Katsuki readily. And then Katsuki remembers the scorn on his omega’s face and winces. 

“What does it matter?” he mutters. “His omega isn’t enough.” 

Kirishima chuffs. 

“Well the Bakugou Katsuki I swore my fealty to wouldn’t just give up,” Kirishima says, with an easy grin. At Katsuki’s expression, he rolls his eyes. “Come on, at least a part of him likes you! You just have to get the rest of him on board.” 

Katsuki considers this. Why did Deku’s omega accept him so readily? Was it possible that a secret part of Deku… wanted this?

“How?” Katsuki demands. 

“Win him over,” Kirishima says, waggling his brow suggestively. “Woo him.” 

Katsuki levels him with a flat look. 

“Woo?” Katsuki repeats, disdainfully. 

“You know,” Kirishima says, elbowing him. “Romance the man. Treat him like your queen. Spoil him. Things omegas like.” 

Katsuki pinches his brow. “Kirishima--” 

“Listen, you like the guy right?” 

Katsuki thinks of Deku. How his wild eyes gleamed with animal instinct. How he fought with an unmatched ferocity. How he’d spat in his face rather than surrender. Katsuki’s tender heart aches. 

“Yeah,” Katsuki rasps. “I do.” 

“Then win him.”  

Izuku wakes to the smell of eggs and fresh meat. Which… doesn’t seem right, his mother only splurges on fresh meat when it’s his birthday and that’s not til--

He jolts to full alertness at once. His head snaps up and Katsuki is there once again. There’s breakfast on the table and the king is knelt by the enchanted fire, breathing fresh life into it with a burst of magic. 

Izuku’s breath catches in his throat. 

Fuck, he’d known the fire was enchanted, but seeing it is something different all together. Magic coils around Katsuki’s arm, slithering down in sparkling golden spirals as the fire gains new life. It’s beautiful. All Izuku can do is gape. 

All his life. His whole life he’s dreamt of magic. It’s what first got him into apothecary work. Chasing down fairies in the woods, gathering herbs, brewing poultices. All of it to scrap, and scrounge, and save every last penny he could to buy any books he could on magic. Spellcasting, enchantments, potions, divinations, anything. He clung to every scrap of magical knowledge he could, documenting it, studying it. Conducting his own experiments even. 

And now he’s witnessing it. Real magic. Not the little tricks he had devised over the years, but strong, potent elemental magic.

He’s a dragon-kin , Izuku remembers. The last of his kind.

A shiver rolls through Izuku against his will and Katsuki turns toward him. 

For a moment, all they do is stare at one another. Katsuki’s crimson eyes are wild and dangerous, and startlingly arousing. Bakugou Katsuki, this powerful, otherworldly being was more than a barbarian king. He was raw, elemental power. An incarnation of magic itself. 

And he bit me , Izuku thinks. And there’s a strange, almost pleased flutter in his gut. 

Katsuki gestures to the table with a cock of his head. 

“Eat,” he commands. When Izuku hesitates, he sighs heavily. “Just do it.” 

Izuku doesn’t see that he has any choice. Refusing food would only leave Izuku weak and starving. At least if he was fed, he’ll have energy when it comes time to escape. 

He stands, not taking his eyes off Katsuki once as he approaches the little dining table and—Izuku has to choke back a gasp when he sees the array of meats, cheeses, eggs, fruits, and breads loaded on the serving tray. Holy shit, this could feed his entire village. Izuku swallows thickly. Katsuki turns away, ears flaming a bright red. 

“Didn’t know what you liked,” Katsuki grouses. He half-shrugs, brushing the fluffy collar of his cape. 

Izuku blinks several times. And then his omega purrs. 

Alpha takes care of us , it rumbles. 

Izuku’s jaw tightens. No, shut up, he’s not going to be won over with a stupid breakfast. He sits down and digs in angrily. 

But oh god, the food is heavenly. The rich honey butter for the bread, the salty fat of the bacon, the texture of the fluffy eggs and by godstars the fruit. There’s so much of it and it’s all sweet and ripe. Mangos, and pineapple, and oranges. Juice dribbles down his chin as he eats it all greedily. 

He can feel Katsuki’s gaze on him. Steady, and dark-eyed, Katsuki has a hungry sort of look as he stares Izuku down and it makes the omega’s hair stand on end.

Stupid alpha , Izuku thinks irritably. Is he trying to intimidate him? Izuku hates how his heart flutters, how his toes and fingertips tingle. 

“What?” Izuku demands through a mouthful of egg and cheese. 

Katsuki shakes his head quickly. “Nothing.” 

But the bond hums with a gentle pleased feeling and ugh. Izuku doesn’t care to please Katsuki. His omega purrs in his chest traitorously and Izuku shoves a slice of bread into his mouth with more force than necessary. Katsuki’s gaze flickers over Izuku’s body, and there’s a low thrum of heat in Izuku’s gut. 

Stop , Izuku orders himself. He’ll never let Katsuki touch him like that again. The last thing he needs is to give the barbarian king what he wants. 

Izuku had made his decision last night. Bond or not, he was going to escape. All he had to do was bide his time until the village was restored and then—well. Izuku isn’t exactly sure what he’ll do from there. Live his life on the run most likely. Selling herbs and potions where he can, running from town to town as his barbarian captor tracked him down. The bond would lead Katsuki to him, no matter where Izuku might run to. 

If we don’t consummate, the bond still might fade , Izuku tells himself. Of course there’s no guarantees. But he resolved to try. He has to. He just has to last until the village is restored. 

Katsuki’s purr rumbles through the air and Izuku bites back a shiver. 

“I sent a party last night,” Katsuki informs him. “Food and supplies are on the way to your village.” 

The relief is instant. Izuku’s shoulders drop, the tension in his gut ebbing away. Thank the godstars. He hadn’t expected the aid to be so immediate. One step closer to freedom , he thinks. 

“Right,” Izuku says, shortly. “Good.” 

Quiet unspools between them. Katsuki wets his lips. 

“I am… sorry,” Katsuki clears his throat. At Izuku’s arched brow, he continues, “I wouldn’t have claimed you unless I thought you’d consented. I assumed that even a village boy like yourself would be aware of my people’s customs.” 

Izuku scoffs before he can think better of it. He swivels in his chair, rounding on Katsuki with a hard look. 

“And your custom is to pillage random villages?” he demands. “Burn down houses? Kidnap omegas?” 

Katsuki’s sigh streams out his nose. 

“It’s necessary,” he says, flat and unforgiving. “A barbarian king cannot wed just anyone. The burning, the looting—it’s all to see which omegas cower and which fight back.” Katsuki’s shine with a light Izuku can’t quite name. “Only the very strongest gets chosen.” 

Izuku stings with his blush. He looks away, stabbing at his food forcefully. 

“Am I supposed to be flattered?” Izuku snipes. Egg yoke dribbles on the serving tray. Izuku works the knife so hard it leaves cuts in the wood. 

“You might be,” Katsuki says. “If you knew how many omegas I’ve dueled trying to find one as fierce as you.” 

Izuku’s inner omega does a backflip. He squashes the feeling down forcefully.

“Unbelievable,” Izuku whispers, tone scathing. “So beating helpless omegas is just common practice to you?” 

Katsuki’s scent sours with agitation. 

“They only fought if they desired to,” Katsuki counters. “I don’t touch omegas who yield.” 

Izuku scoffs again and Katsuki growls low in his throat. 

“Believe what you will,” Katsuki says disdainfully. “You cannot deny the truth you feel through our bond.”

Izuku knows this and hates it. He hates how he almost sees the perverse logic of it too. It’s almost like his village’s version of a mating run—only with much less terror and property damage. Izuku scowls down at his meal with fury. 

Katsuki gets to his feet in one graceful movement. His throat bobs as he swallows. 

“I have something for you,” he says, low and rough. 

Izuku turns away. “I want no tokens from the likes of you.” 

“Just—” Katsuki grits his teeth angrily. “At least look at it before you reject it!” 

“Why?” Izuku demands, glaring at Katsuki hard. “You think you can buy my affection with trinkets?” 

Katsuki grits his teeth. And then his hand plunges into his cloak, whipping out a thin golden chain. 

“Take it or throw it out,” Katsuki spits, slamming the necklace onto the table. “I’ve done my part.” 

And with that, he spins on his heel and marches off, anger radiating through the bond like a sweltering summer sun. Izuku glares at his back until it disappears. 

“Stupid, ridiculous alpha,” Izuku seethes. He glances at the golden chain skeptically. Only a knot-head would think such a small, meaningless token would buy him Izuku’s acceptance. Izuku eyes the chain like he would a bear-trap ready to snap. Is that real gold? Izuku’s never touched real gold before. The only coins that traded hands in his tiny village were coppers and the occasional silver. 

Maybe he’ll just give it a look before he throws it out. Izuku leans over and the metal is cool to the touch. It’s a finely-crafted thing. Delicate looking, and sparkling, there’s a coin-sized emerald hanging from the chain and—oh wow. It really is dazzling. Truly something breathtaking. This alone could feed him for a good year out on the road. Maybe even score him passage on a ship to escape the continent altogether. 

Izuku stuffs it into his pocket. He’ll take it with him when he means to escape. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki will always remember the moment he set eyes on Izuku. 

He was… perfect. Wild-eyed, his omegan fangs bared and make-shift weapon held high. He was strikingly beautiful. All soft emerald curls and creamy, freckled skin. Flushed with adrenaline and radiating danger as he stood between Katsuki and the pup, he was gorgeous, and ferocious, and fought like hell. Even when he was pinned, his omega spat in his face and defied him. Katsuki was enamored immediately. 

But now his omega is testing his patience. 

“He’s impossible,” Katsuki rages. “He doesn’t like anything!” 

He paces around the command tent while Jirou, Mina, Kaminari, and Kirishima look on sympathetically. The command tent is the largest of the thousands his people carry along with them. Nearly large enough to house the great elephants from the Sunset Isles, it’s laden with finely woven rugs, pillows, and ornate cushions. A packnest for his packmates, his chosen Fang-riders. Currently, his Fang-riders are lounging around the nest as Katsuki paces around the large, circular table in the center used for counsel meetings. 

“He has to like something,” Jirou drawls. She’s reclined out on one of the larger cushions, playing with one dangling earring lazily. 

“Yeah!” Mina chimes in. Her curls spring as she sits up, eyes brightening. “Everyone likes something!” 

Not this omega, Katsuki thinks with a grimace. Silk robes, jewel-crusted daggers, rare fruits, jewelry, hand mirrors, a gem the size of his fist, exotic feathers for his hair. Everything Katsuki has ever given Izuku sits in one corner of Izuku’s tent, untouched. Gods damn him, the omega said he wanted courting gifts! Katsuki kicks a stray cushion and it bounces off the tent’s wall feebly. 

“Ooh! What about a nesting item?” Kaminari suggests. “All omegas like a good nesting item.” 

Kirishima winces and Katsuki groans as his face falls into his hands. 

“He throws out whatever scented items I give him,” Katsuki reports miserably. He rakes a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Says it smells too much like overbearing alpha.” 

There’s a chorus of ooohs and one whispered yikes. Kaminari shakes his head, folding his arms across his chest as he falls back against the cushions. 

“Figures you’d pick the most stubborn omega in the land,” he tuts and there are several sounds of agreement. 

“Oh come on, he can’t help it,” Kirishima says with an easy grin. He shoots Katsuki a teasing look. “That’s just his type.” 

It is. It is just his type. His inner alpha croons at his omega’s strength, even as it also whimpers at the week’s worth of rejection. Katsuki swears under his breath as he paces another lap around the table. 

“Maybe I can talk to him!” Mina says, clapping her hands together merrily. “I’m an omega. Maybe he’d open up to me.” 

“Tried that,” Kirishima reports grimly. “His omega manservants have tried. He won’t talk about anything other than the restoration of his village.” 

Ugh. Damn that village! Katsuki gnashes his teeth thinking about it. He doesn’t understand why it’s such a big deal. The occasional raid was good for a village. It brought the people together, gave them a chance to rebuild their moldy houses, and incentivized them to move to larger, safer towns. And it’s not like they killed anyone. Katsuki had seen to it personally that all the kidnapped omegas had been returned to the village safely now that he’d found his chosen mate. 

“They’d be better off joining us in our trek south,” Katsuki grumbles. 

“That’s not what your omega wants though,” Kirishima says, an unhappy twist to his mouth. 

Katsuki’s sigh is half a growl. “I know that.” 

There’s quiet for a beat. Only the scuffing of Katsuki’s boots against the rugs and the crackling of enchanted flame. 

“If only he’d come out of his tent,” Kaminari says, scratching his chin. “Maybe we could figure out what he likes.” 

“It’s bound to happen eventually,” Jirou reasons. “He can’t stay in there forever. Especially when we make our move to the homeland.” 

Ugh. Katsuki doesn’t even want to think of what he’ll have to do to get Deku to join their migration south. Stubborn as he is, Katsuki wouldn’t be surprised if Deku simply refused to leave the nesting-tent. Katsuki isn’t above throwing the omega over his shoulder and carrying him off, but it does leave a sour taste in his mouth. He’s supposed to be winning the omega over, not making it worse.

“I don’t have time to wait,” Katsuki says, brow furrowing in concentration. “There must be something—something that might hold some kind of clue—” 

And then it hits him. He snaps his fingers.

“The village,” he says. Of course. He’s buoyant with his own brilliance.  

Skeptical looks and raised eyebrows come at him from all angles. 

“The village?” Kirishima echoes. He looks around the room, puzzled. “Aren’t we already restoring it?” 

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Yes, obviously.” 

“Oh!” Jirou perks up as the realization dawns on her. “Maybe the townsfolk will know what he likes!” 

“If they’ll talk to him,” Kaminari adds wryly.

Right. Katsuki grimaces. Maybe his omega had a point about raiding not leaving the best first impression.  

“If his house isn’t burned down, there might be some clues in there,” Kirishima pipes up. Katsuki shoots him a savage grin. 

“Exactly,” he says, pointing at Kirishima approvingly. 

“It’s worth a try!” Mina says. 

Katsuki steps toward the table and snatches up the map. They’re only about an hour’s ride away on horseback, but in his dragon form he could be there in minutes. He studies the map carefully before rolling it up and stuffing it in his boot. 

“Kirishima’s in charge while I’m gone,” he says. His cape swishes as he turns around and marches for the exit. “I won’t be long.” 

A week. 

Izuku has endured a week of this. 

Every day is the same. Katsuki brings him his breakfast, stares at him like a ravenous animal as Izuku eats, and then forces a gift on him. Jewels, silks, furs. Things Izuku had never dreamt of like peacock feathers, rubies the size of apples, daggers so heavily laden with gems they bordered on impractical. Izuku rejects all of it, much to his inner omega’s distress. 

Alpha provides, it croons in his chest. Alpha good. Alpha good. 

“Alpha not good,” Izuku spits back. He’s developed a habit of pacing throughout the tent; he needs to keep his leg muscles strong for when he escapes. “Alpha took us.” 

Took us, but won’t take us, his omega mourns miserably. 

Ugh. Every day his omega gets more needy for the alpha’s touch. It must be some side effect of the claiming bond. He has to throw out all the scented items Katsuki brings. They’re too tantalizing. The scent of his alpha is calming and coaxing and has Izuku slicking through his trousers. Once, he’d caught himself purring when presented with a scented fox-fur and had to cover it up with a fake cough. Katsuki had looked so hurt when he’d thrown it out into the snow; the flash of his emotions through the bond felt like arrows piercing his gut. Izuku hates that he almost feels pity for him. 

His fault for claiming us, he reminds himself sternly. 

Claimed us, his inner omega coos. Claim us, but won’t take us. 

Once, Izuku dreamt of it. Late at night, when the stars glimmered overhead and the moon had the wolves singing, he dreamt Katsuki came into his tent with that wild hunger in his eye. Izuku was helpless, and he wanted to be helpless. He’d gasped and sighed as Katsuki’s big hands handled him roughly. Crooned when Katsuki finally had him naked and pinned. Kissed him and kissed him and moaned when Katsuki finally took what was his and used Izuku’s body for a good, hard fuck. Izuku woke up panting, drenched in sweat, and with slick running down his thighs. Fuck, he hated himself for masturbating to the memories, but his arousal had been too insistent. Izuku burned the slick-soaked items before Katsuki could—Izuku shudders to think of it—smell them. 

Izuku expects the eighth day to go no differently. He’ll have his tense breakfast with his mate, endure whatever gift is bestowed upon him, bathe, pace, have a midday meal, pace, sharpen the dagger Katsuki had so foolishly gifted him, pace. Godstars, how Izuku would kill for a book right now. More than once he’s tempted to leave the tent, but truthfully he doesn’t know what freedoms omegan concubines are allowed. Leaving the nest-tent could very well cost him his head. 

But on the eighth day, Katsuki never comes. 

Izuku waits for him. Watches as the enchanted fire begins to dim. Paces a bit. Pries open the tent flap a crack to peek outside. Nothing. No sign of Katsuki anywhere. Just tents as far as the eye can see.

Maybe he’s given up on me, Izuku thinks. But the hopefulness he expects doesn’t come. Instead there’s just a dull sense of disappointment. 

Stop it, Izuku thinks, gnashing his teeth at his own ridiculousness. Not like I want to see his ugly face anyway. 

Godstars, if only the barbarian king was ugly. It would make hating him so much easier.  

Izuku has just resettled into his nest for a morning nap when a vibrantly pink girl bursts into his tent. 

“Sorry!” she cries, breakfast tray perched on her hip. “Shit, your fire is almost out too!” 

She rushes to deposit breakfast on the table before beelining toward the fire. She murmurs some words, traces golden, sparkling runes into the air with her fingers and—whoosh! The fire returns to its usual liveliness. Izuku blinks several times. 

So it isn’t just the dragon-kin who can learn magic, he thinks. Excitement has his heart leaping into his throat. His hands itch to mirror the rune she just performed. 

The strange woman stands back with a happy sigh, hands on her round omegan hips. 

“There, all better,” she says. She turns to Izuku then, holding a finger over her lips in a shushing gesture. “Let’s not tell his highness, shall we?” 

 Izuku can only stare at her. She seems awfully normal for a barbarian. Somehow Izuku had expected them all to be like Katsuki. Angry, brash, domineering, inherently violent. He clears his throat. 

“Where is his highness?” Izuku asks, voice rough from lack of use. 

“Oh!” The pink girl jolts a little like he’s surprised him. She scratches the back of her head sheepishly. “Not sure I’m allowed to say! But he’ll be back, don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.” 

Izuku bristles. 

“I am not worried over the likes of him,” he says tersely, even as his inner omega whimpers for its alpha. Stupid traitorous instincts. The girl nods hurriedly. 

“Oh right, of course, he’s a big boy, he can handle himself just fine,” she rattles off. “Oh! I almost forgot!” 

She falls to one knee, bowing in a graceful motion. 

“Fang-rider Ashido Mina at your service, your highness,” she says. 

Fang-rider. He’s never heard the term before and he can’t help but to squint at her skeptically. He’d be a fool to trust her so readily, but at the same time he can’t help but feel that she is… genuine somehow. This cheerful, vivaciousness isn’t an act. She keeps bowing and he clears his throat awkwardly. 

“I, um, thank you,” he says. When she still doesn’t move, Izuku continues, “You don't have to bow to me.” 

Mina nods. 

“My queen is most merciful,” she commends, springing to her feet as quickly as she’d dropped. Izuku frowns. 

“Queen?” he repeats, baffled. 

Mina cocks her head to the side curiously. “Yes?” 

Izuku eyes her warily. No, he can’t have heard that right.

“I am no queen,” he says, and he feels silly even having to say it. 

Mina blinks three times in quick succession. 

“But you are his majesty’s chosen mate,” she says.

Her blinding confidence only makes Izuku’s confusion deepen. 

“Yes, but not his wife,” Izuku corrects. And then he frowns harder. Is there a difference in barbarian culture? There are some places in the south where a mating was as good as a marriage vow, but not in these lands of wild winter.

Mina titters. 

“Chosen mate means wife,” she says, like it’s as plain as day. She lowers her lashes shyly. “Truthfully you should be honored.” 

Izuku scoffs. 

“Right,” he says, clipped. He gets to his feet and plucks an apple off the table. “Honored to have my home ransacked and then taken prisoner.” 

Mina’s brow twitches into the tiniest of frowns. 

“My queen is no prisoner,” she says, uncertainly. 

“Tell that to the king,” Izuku snips. He rubs the apple clean with the front of his chemise and Mina bows deeply once again. 

“Your highness, forgive me,” she says, head still low. “But the king would never keep his wife prisoner.” 

Izuku turns to her, skewering her with a hard look. “So I can go home?” 

When Mina cringes, Izuku scoffs again. He takes a big, crunchy bite of his apple. 

“‘S what I thought,” he says. 

Mina glances toward the door awkwardly. 

“I—I must be going,” she stammers. “The manservants will be here in two hours with hot water for your bath. I—good day, your highness.” 

Ugh. Izuku is dull-eyed as he watches her flee. No doubt running to the king to report that his omega was being troublesome. Whatever, he’ll pay for his insolence later. 

Why didn’t he show up today anyway? Izuku ponders on it as he inhales his meal. Is he unwell? Izuku doesn’t feel anything pressing through the bond. Maybe the king is tired of Izuku’s rejections. Maybe he’s finally decided Izuku is a lost cause.

But he knows better than to get his hopes up.

The village really is pitifully small. 

Katsuki hadn’t noticed when they came raiding. He’s spent a good two years travelling Yueii, pillaging towns here, looting villages there. Even laying siege to a few cities in his desperation. Every omega had been dull, easily defeatable, or a coward. Katsuki was about to give up before his brave, stubborn omega had spat in his face and threatened him with a skillet. 

This will get me one step closer to claiming him for real, Katsuki thinks as he stalks through the village, sniffing for the home that smells like his mate. Mostly he just smells char, but there’s some fresh timber too. He even detects Sero and Sato, who had been sent with the supplies along with a dozen strong men to rebuild homes. Maybe Katsuki should shift into his dragon form, he’d have a better sense of smell that way. But no, his dragon form would start a riot. So human nose it is. 

A few villagers eye him fearfully as he marches through the charred remains of their home. Children are tucked behind the backs of protective parents, omegas whimper and alphas sneer. Whatever. It’s nothing Katsuki isn’t used to. One doesn’t become the king of all barbarians without stepping on a few toes. 

Still. Katsuki’s heart twists as he thinks of Izuku. He loves these people. Enough to sacrifice his freedom for them. They must have something of value. 

“You there!” Katsuki barks, pointing at a villager, who cowers at his attention. “Tell me what you know of your tribesman Deku.” 

She blinks wide, brown eyes at him. “Deku-kun?” 

She’s a plump thing. Round, flushed cheeks and big eyes. She almost reminds him of his mate in a way. Only not nearly as beautiful. 

“Yes,” Katsuki says, with as much patience as he can muster. The girl shakes her head frantically. 

“He was our apothecary,” she answers, and her face crumples. “I’m—I’m sorry! That’s all I know!” 

And she scurries off before Katsuki can prod further. Whatever. Katsuki whips his cape as he stomps onward. He’ll find another. 

But every villager is the same. They shake in terror at the sight of him, jumpy and stammery they say as little to him as possible before hurrying away. It makes Katsuki grit his teeth. And this is the village his mate came from? Katsuki tsks. Something doersn’t seem right. 

It takes the better part of an hour, but finally Katsuki catches it. 

Ah yes, his inner alpha moans at the hint of his omega. Sweet and fragrant, fresh like ozone and rejuvenating like fresh rainfall. No omega has ever smelled so lovely. Gods, he’s perfect. 

And he isn’t mine, his inner alpha whimpers. 

Patience, Katsuki tells himself. He’s Bakugou fucking Katsuki gods damn it, of course he can make the omega fall in love with him. 

Katsuki trudges through the snow as he follows the trail of Deku’s scent. There! That’s where they fought. Deku’s skillet is still there, left where Katsuki had smacked it out of his hands. Katsuki feels a tug of fondness. And here he’d thought the duel went so well. Never had an omega asked for their freedom as a courting gift. Katsuki smiles. Clever little shit really thought that was going to work too. Ha. 

He traces the scent back through the village. Turning here, following an alley there until—Aha! Katsuki is hit with a burst of the sweet scent and there is its source. Katsuki splits into a savage grin. Just his luck, the house is left standing and is relatively untouched. 

Well. “House” is generous. It’s more of a shack really. Katsuki busts the door down and immediately scowls. Has his omega been living like this? Composed of one room, his mate’s former home is miserably small and cramped. There’s a shabby nest in one corner, a hearth in the other, papers and potions are scattered across the damp floor like they’d been knocked off in a frenzy. 

Katsuki’s brow arches in interest. Potions? So his bride is an apothecary. 

Herbs are hung to dry along the walls. Poultices and vials line the shelves. Ingredients are haphazardly strewn around with little to no organization. There’s even a half-done potion left hanging above a long dead fire. 

And then he sees it. A desk with a mortar and pestle sitting pretty on top. Peppered with herbs, stained from several years worth of spilled potions, there are more scattered papers, along with leather and twine for bookbinding. 

And books. Stacks upon stacks of books. 

Katsuki breaks into a grin. 

Izuku stares at the ceiling of his tent as he ponders Mina’s words. 

“Queen,” he says to himself. It’s like he’s never heard the word before. He rolls onto his side, frowning. Surely she had to be mistaken. There’s no way a barbarian king would stoop so low as to marry any common village boy. He must be a concubine. He has to be. 

But then Katsuki’s words float back to him. 

“A barbarian king cannot just wed anyone.” 

Ugh. Izuku facepalms. It just doesn’t make any sense. Was barbarian culture so twisted and backward that they really thought a raid was a good way to begin a courting ritual? He supposes that makes all the extravagant gifts make sense. Katsuki wasn’t spoiling a stubborn concubine, he was trying to win over—Izuku’s heart does a funny little flip in his chest—trying to win over his wife. Izuku doesn’t know whether to feel revolted or flattered.

“I am Queen,” he whispers into the quiet of his tent. He can’t help but feel a little rush. Queen. Him? No, no, what is he thinking? Surely that can’t be right. A plain, bookish thing like him could never be queen. 

But if I’m queen then I should be able to wander where I like, Izuku reasons. Godstars how he longs to leave this tent. Breathe fresh air, see something other than the bamboo lining the tent walls and the red-gold patterning of the rugs. 

Fuck it. In a burst of courage, Izuku leaps to his feet, rushing to the door—and then falters at the last minute. Nerves dance in his belly. Should he—could he really—?

He forces himself through the flap before he can think twice about it and… oh wow. The sunshine is like sweet paradise. His shoulders lose a bit of tension, his gut unclenches. It’s still bitingly cold, and the silks he wears do little to shield him from it, but it’s invigorating. Izuku can’t help but to stop and bask in it for a moment. 

And then the scents hit him. 

Betas, alphas, omegas. The milk-scent of pups, clean linen, fresh snow, and animals. Izuku sniffs the air experimentally and can detect bulls, pigs, and horses. Sniffing more he smells simmering stews and flatbread. Distantly, he can hear children’s laughter and the low murmur of conversing adults. 

Everywhere Izuku turns is another circular tent. Some with cookfires, others with children’s toys strewn outside carelessly. A few are painted in vibrant reds, purples, blues, and yellows. Depicting battle scenes, and families, and sometimes grazing cattle. Izuku must be placed at the very center of their camp—though whether that was for his protection or for his imprisonment, Izuku can’t decide.

He hears her humming first. 

His head whips to the side and here comes a beta woman walking by, with a basket of laundry perched on her hip and a placid smile on her face. She’s… not like the village girls Izuku is used to. There’s red paint smeared down her cheeks, and her chest is bare underneath her leather vest. Her nakedness makes Izuku’s skin crawl. Isn’t she cold? 

Izuku doesn’t know what catches her attention, but suddenly she jolts and turns toward him. Dark eyes stare at him in horror. 

And then she falls to her knees, forehead touching the snowy floor as she bows deeply. The basket of laundry lurches as it hits the ground.  

“Your highness,” she says, long braids spilling onto the snow before her. 

For a moment, all Izuku can do is stare. Huh. A strange smile tugs on the corner of Izuku’s lips. 

“Uh, you don’t, um.” Izuku clears his throat awkwardly. “You can, uh. Stand.” 

The beta woman gets to her feet, head still bowed. 

“Are you in charge of the laundry?” Izuku asks. The woman jolts like he’s surprised her. 

“I—I’m—” Her gaze darts around, like she’s unsure it’s her he’s speaking to. “No, I’m just a simple maidservant, your highness! I do as my Fang-rider Jirou bids me.” 

Fang-rider. There’s that phrase again. Izuku’s head tilts to the side. His innate curiosity niggles between his ribs. No matter, he has more pressing things to worry about. 

“Forgive me,” Izuku says, in his kindest voice. “Would you know what happened to the coat and boots I arrived in?” 

He won’t last in the cold very long in the silks Katsuki insists on dressing him in. The maidservant dips her head even lower. 

“I—I’ll ask the master laundress, your highness!” she chirps. 

“Thank you,” Izuku says, both uneasy and flattered at her obvious desperation to please. “I… I would like to take a stroll.” 

“Of course!” the maidservant nods and her long braids bounce with it. “I’ll see to it at once!”

Boots crunch in the snow as she turns and leaves, abandoning her basket of laundry entirely. Which, well she didn’t have to do that, Izuku thinks. But at the same time, he can’t help the grin creeping across his face. 

Maybe escaping will be easier than he thought. 

Katsuki has been absorbed in these books for hours. 

He’s obsessive, Katsuki thinks as he flips through the pages. To his great astonishment, most of the books Izuku owns are ones he’d written himself. Detailed, meticulous accounts of his encounters with magic. Each is describing everything in detail. Observations, commentary, theories. He’s drawn out hand movements for rune-crafting, recorded accounts of the magical creatures he’s spied on in the woods, detailed descriptions of his own (mostly failed) experiments. 

Pride and affection curl in Katsuki’s chest like lazy tendrils of smoke. 

“He’s brilliant,” Katsuki murmurs to himself. Thoughtful, dedicated, passionate. And he could be so much more with the proper education. Of course his omega hadn’t been satisfied with the sparkly items bestowed upon him. Katsuki can’t help the purr rumbling his chest. This omega was of a deeper sort. A better sort. Katsuki hears his voice like it’s drifting off the page.

The more I investigate magic, the less I understand, Deku writes. It’s frustrating and wonderful. Isn’t it so beautiful that the world holds so many mysteries?

How a brilliant mind like this came from this backwater town, Katsuki will never know. But that hardly matters. He grins to himself. 

Katsuki knows exactly what to do next. 

Godstars, it feels so good to be in proper clothes again. 

The master laundress had brought his coat to him herself, prostrating and mumbling apologies about the state of his clothes. 

“It took days to beat the dirt out,” she says, mournfully. “I’ve scrubbed a thousand times, but it’s still—well—” 

“It’s perfect,” Izuku cuts her off. Truthfully, his coat and clothes are cleaner than they’ve been in years. He gives her his prettiest smile. “Thank you.” 

The master laundress stutters her praises. Though Izuku has to stop her from kissing the ground at his feet. 

At last. Izuku steps out into the sunshine and can’t help beaming. Fuck, it feels incredible. Life thrums through his veins, bright and excited. If he had a get away bag, he’d run right now. Surely, they didn’t camp too far away from his village. He could stop there for supplies and—

No, Izuku shakes his head firmly. He can’t get ahead of himself; it’s not like he can escape until the village is restored anyway. But still, this is progress. Checking out his surroundings is an excellent start. 

Quickly he realizes the camp is massive. Tents are everywhere. Cookfires billow smoke into the air,  horses are staked to the ground, makeshift pig pens are set up. Everyone seems like they have somewhere to be. Carrying wicker baskets full of laundry, bread, blankets, or furrs. Tending to cookfires, chastising children, scrubbing buckets of laundry. Despite this, everyone stops what they’re doing and dips their head at his presence. Cooks stirring their stews, bakers flipping their flatbreads, women sewing the tears in tent-fabric, men carving bamboo. Everyone freezes to bow to him, murmuring their praises when Izuku tells them to be at ease. It’s both uncomfortable and a little… flattering? Izuku doesn’t know what to make of the pleased feeling stirring in his chest.  

Only the children are careless enough to whisper in his presence. Giggling and staring shamelessly, they wave at Izuku and Izuku waves back shyly. 

“He’s so pretty,” one little girl whispers. 

“The Emerald Queen, the Emerald Queen!” another adds excitedly. “He waved at me!”

Izuku flushes. The Emerald Queen? He thumbs at the curls sticking out of his cap self consciously. He supposes it’s… a somewhat accurate descriptor. 

They really think I’m their queen, Izuku thinks, all full of wonder. 

Never. Not even once in all his twenty-three years of life has he been noticed like this. Respected and admired. In his village, he was something of an outcast. The oddball omega. The strange boy who had more interest in magic than mating. Every alpha that had presented themselves to Izuku had brought him flowers that he’d promptly torn apart for crafting his medicines. He hadn’t even realized they’d been trying to court until later he heard the whispers about him being a disrespectful omega. 

“Your highness!” 

Izuku starts, his blood flashing cold. The king. Shit, Izuku’s gaze darts around for him, but there’s no imposing blond anywhere. Instead, there’s a little hand tugging on the hem of his coat. Izuku’s gaze shoots downward and a pink-haired, round-cheeked girl stares up at him expectantly. She has to be around Eri’s age. She holds out something to him and Izuku takes it unthinkingly. 

It’s a carving. A primitive little wooden horse. 

“Oh,” Izuku says, blinking at it in surprise. He turns it in his hands. “It’s beautiful.” 

“It’s for you,” the girl says, before running off, giggling. 

“Thank you!” Izuku calls after her. His heart is a tender thing in his chest. It seems everywhere he goes, children are the same. That thought is comforting. But also…. strange. He’d thought Katsuki had brought something of a standing army, but these are just people. Families. Cooks, and tailors, and servants. Just people living their lives. It makes Izuku’s gut squirm. 

He keeps wandering the campsite, trying to find the perimeter. If he ever wants to escape, knowing the topography of the land is crucial. He sees the familiar mountain range to the east, a forest to the west where there must be a river, because he can see several omega women carting water jugs back to the campsite. But which direction is closest to civilization? Which direction is home? Izuku can’t be sure. He circles the edge of the campsite twice, muttering to himself and making mental calculations. 

Eventually, his stomach rumbles, and he starts the trek back to his own tent, so lost in thought he almost doesn’t hear the shouting. 

“—won her fair ‘n square!” an alpha man roars.

Izuku’s gaze jolts over. He’s a massive, brute of a man, at least twice Katsuki’s size and somehow even meaner looking. Baring his fangs, he towers over the other alpha, clutching the wrist of a frail omega between them. The smaller alpha seizes the front of the omega’s tunic and the omega’s gaze darts between them in horror.  

“She’s mine, Takahashi!” The smaller, younger alpha does his best to be intimidating, but well. Izuku can’t help but cringe. “She’s mine, I saw her first!” 

The omega trembles between them, tears wobbling in her eyes. Something bitter crawls up Izuku’s throat, settling on his tongue and dying in his mouth. Anger simmers off him. 

“She’s mine by blood right!” Takahashi shouts, yanking the omega girl closer to him. His snarl is downright nasty. “Be thankful I spared your pitiful life while I’m at it.” 

Several people have gathered around, whispering to themselves at the very public fight. The omega girl in Takahashi’s arms squirms, trying to break free, but he must grip her even harder because she cries out. 

Izuku doesn’t know what makes him do it. He can’t explain it; he doesn't even have a plan. He just steps forward, steaming with rage. 

“Unhand her at once!” he orders, jabbing a finger in Takahashi’s direction. The omega girl turns toward him, dark eyes wide in shock. 

“The Emerald Queen,” she whispers. 

The younger alpha falls to his knees, prostrating on the muddy, snow-slick earth at once. 

“Your highness,” he murmurs into the soil. 

Takahashi is less impressed. He eyes Izuku like he’s fresh meat, something dark in his golden-eyed gaze. 

“Excuse me?” he asks, in his low grumbling baritone. He releases the omega, letting her splat onto the muddy ground. Stepping into Izuku’s space, he snarls at Izuku, putrid scent bearing down on him. Izuku forces himself to remain stiff-backed, refusing to give this worthless excuse of an alpha an inch. “You wanna try that again?” 

Izuku narrows his eyes at him. “Leave the girl alone.” 

“Ha!” The massive man heaves with his dry laughter. “And who’s gonna make me?” 

Fuck, Izuku’s had his share of tavern brawls sure, but never with a man of this size. He can’t back down though. Squaring his shoulders and jaw setting into a hard line, Izuku stands tall, bunching his hands into fists. 

“I am,” he says, and there are several gasps from the onlooking crowd. “Now drop this, and leave the girl alone.” 

A dark chuckle shakes Takahashi’s giant shoulders.

“I’m going to have fun with you,” Takahashi says, lowly. Izuku thrums with fear, breath hitching— 

“Stop!” 

Izuku and Takahashi’s gaze snap to the left as one. 

Oh shit. Izuku’s stomach squirms as he recognizes the alpha he’d knocked out while protecting Eri. Bare chested and painted in the tribe’s reds and golds, the red-haired barbarian has a dragon-toothed necklace bouncing around his throat as he runs toward them. A girl with dark hair and dangly earrings, and a boy with a jagged streak in his blond hair flank him on either side, both looking fierce and deadly. An arm is thrust between Takahashi and Izuku, and Izuku is shoved back as the red-haired barbarian steps in front of him protectively. 

Takahashi sneers at him. “Kirishima.” 

“Takahashi.” Kirishima rumbles with his growl. “You better have a good explanation for this.”  

There’s a ripple of murmurs throughout the surrounding crowd. Fang-riders, they whisper. Some take a few steps back as their eyes widen. The distressed omega watches the scene from the muddy floor in horror and the younger alpha trembles as he keeps bowing. 

Takahashi, however, is unphased. 

“Sugiyama is mine,” he growls. “Gotou lost her fair and square and this—” He jabs a finger over Kirishima’s shoulder, pointing directly at Izuku. “—this outsider thinks he can just take her from me!” 

Another murmur from the crowd. Izuku barely hears it over the blood roaring in his ears. He can’t believe the red-haired alpha he knocked out is… defending him? In what world does that make sense? Kirishima sighs through his nose. 

“That outsider is your queen,” Kirishima snaps, shoving Takahashi back. “And you will address him with the honor and respect he deserves.” 

Takahashi snarls, stumbling a step back. 

“But he’s—” 

“Your queen,” the dark haired girl says. She has knives in her hands and the gleam in her eye tells Izuku she’s ready to use them. “And you will show him respect.” 

The blond boy nods, looking just as fierce. Izuku looks between them all, completely baffled. Who are these people? Did Katsuki send them? No, how would Katsuki have even known Izuku had left his tent? Unless he sensed something through the bond? It doesn’t seem likely and Izuku shakes the thought off quickly. Takahashi glowers at them. 

“Sugiyama is mine by bloodright,” Takahashi says, slapping a hand to his barrel-like chest. “I challenged Gotou for her and he lost. She’s mine.” 

Sugiyama cringes, still on the ground and white with fear. Izuku feels like he’s going to be sick.

Kirishima sighs, turning to the still-prostrating alpha. He perches a hand on his hip. 

“Gotou, you know the law,” Kirishima says, not unkindly, but still firm. “Sugiyama was won from you fair and square.” 

Izuku’s eyes are pure steel. 

“And what does Sugiyama have to say in all this?” Izuku demands. 

Everyone swivels to stare at him as one. Izuku refuses to back down though. All his life. All his stupid, omegan life alphas have pushed him around. Made him feel less than, called him Deku for not understanding or wanting their advances. He can’t watch this omega be passed between two alphas like she’s nothing but a piece of meat. 

“Your highness,” Kirishima says, stammering and uncertain. Izuku skewers him with a glare. 

“Well? Has she no say in who her mate should be?” Izuku demands. Red eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“What?” Kirishima blinks at him like he’s genuinely confused. “I—uh. Well.” 

Kirishima scratches the back of his head, looking to his companions for support. The blond boy shrugs. The girl’s eyes narrow, but she sheathes her daggers. 

“She has the right to duel him for her freedom,” she begins. “But if she cannot defeat him, she cannot reclaim herself.” 

“And how is that fair?” Izuku demands, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “This alpha is at least three times her size!” 

“It is the law,” the blond boy says, sounding grim and Kirishima nods quickly. 

“Usually, a father or brother could fight for her freedom,” he says. “Or else a champion of her choosing, but… well.”

But Gotou lost, Izuku surmises. His indignation flares. 

“This is ridiculous,” Izuku snaps. “This is her life!”  

Kirishima gives him a sympathetic look. 

“It is our custom,” he says, looking to the dark-haired girl for support again. “Everything someone owns is bought through the law of bloodright. If Takahashi fought for her and won, she's… his.” 

An uncomfortable silence settles over them. Izuku’s breathing is harsh and angry. He can’t believe what he’s fucking hearing right now. Sure, the laws in his village hadn’t been much better. More than once an omega had been unwillingly mated to an alpha during a mating run. But at least he didn’t have to submit to whatever brute fought for his right to own him. 

“Omegas are people,” he spits, venomous in his fury. “You cannot fight to own people.” 

The dark-haired girl, the blond, and Kirishima all exchange wary glances. Takahashi scoffs and Sugiyama looks down, quivering in fear. 

“I understand it might seem strange to you,” Kirishima says, infuriatingly kind. “But if no one will fight for this omega then nothing can be done.” 

Izuku presses a hand to his chest. 

“I’ll fight for her,” he declares. 

There’s a chorus of gasps. Someone cries out, “your highness no!” More than a few voices chime in that this omega isn’t worth it. Takahashi breaks into a truly savage grin. 

“Oh I’ll fight you for her, little omega,” he growls. “I’ll fight you right now.”

He takes a step forward and instantly, three blades are at Takahashi’s throat. Kirishima hits Izuku with a pleading look.

“Your highness, please reconsider,” he begs. 

“No,” Izuku says coolly. He doesn’t care if he loses; he has to prove a point. No omega should have to be claimed by an alpha they don’t love. He feels grim determination settle in his heart. “I’ll do it.” 

Kirishima opens his mouth to speak and—

And then the sky trembles. 

There’s a mighty roar, a gush of churning wind. Izuku looks up and—holy shit. 

A dragon. Crimson as blood, white-fanged, and massive, it pumps its wings as it swoops low to the earth and the tents quiver around them. 

All Izuku can do is gape. The wind whips at his curls, his eyes widening.

The last dragon-kin, he thinks. 

There are several cries—but not of fear, Izuku quickly realizes. Of joy.

“His highness!”

“King Bakugou! King Bakugou!”

“Oh thank the gods!” 

The dragon swoops low over them, eyes narrowing right on Izuku. Only then does Izuku feel it. Concern and fear that aren’t quite his own buzz in Izuku’s chest. Fuck, Izuku had been so consumed with his rage that he hadn’t even processed Katsuki’s emotions through the bond. Izuku’s stomach sours. Great. Just what he needs.

The last dragon-kin circles in the air once, twice. His people cheer for him, hands outstretched and smiles on their faces. Takahashi goes white and Kirishima smirks. 

“Let’s see what his highness makes of all this,” Kirishima says, sheathing his blade, and Takahashi swallows thickly. 

On the third go around, the great dragon lowers. Swirling, sparkling spirals consume the dragon’s massive form and golden light flashes. And all at once, a blond man comes falling from the sky, red cape billowing behind him as he falls to the earth. He lands with cat-like grace as he hits the ground. 

“Your highness,” Kirishima says, stooping into a deep bow. His companions join him, along with every other watchful eye, but Katsuki only has eyes for Izuku. He charges toward him, boots stomping through the muddy snow and hands outstretched. 

“Izuku,” he says, and oh fuck. The sound of his name on this alpha’s lips is more than Izuku was prepared for. Before he knows it, his face is being cradled in callus-rough palms and he’s being turned side to side. “What happened? Are you hurt?” 

It takes several seconds for Izuku to come back to himself. The rich caramel and cinnamon scent of his alpha, his intoxicating touch, and the genuine concern Izuku sees in his eyes is too much. Not to mention the worry seeping through their bond. It’s like catnip for his fussy omega and he’s purring before he can stop himself. Izuku wants nothing more than to melt under his attention, to snuggle close and feel safe. 

But he forces himself to wrench out of his grip. 

“I’m fine,” Izuku says, curt and cold. He looks at Sugiyama. “It’s this omega who’s in distress.” 

Confusion flickers through the bond. Katsuki spares the omega a glance, brow furrowing and then looks back to Izuku. 

“And?” Katsuki prods. 

Fury roils in Izuku’s gut. 

“And thanks to your barbaric laws, she ‘belongs’ to an alpha she doesn’t love!” Izuku snaps. “Isn’t that right, Sugiyama-san?” 

The poor omega girl looks startled at being addressed so directly. Sugiyama trembles. She looks so pale, so afraid. Shaking her head, she only manages to mumble incoherently. The dark-haired girl sighs heavily, folding her arms across her chest. 

“She was won to Takahashi through bloodright,” she explains. “Gotou accepted his challenge, his claim is undeniable.” 

Takahashi’s chest puffs up and Izuku fights not to growl. 

Katsuki’s scowl is fierce. “So what’s the problem?” 

Takahashi’s grin is all savage delight. 

“Your omega has challenged me for her freedom,” he grouses and Katsuki’s scowl deepens. “And I accept his challenge.” 

There’s a terse silence. Anticipation charges the air like a subtle electric current runs between all of them. The blond boy sighs, perching his hands on his hips as he shakes his head. 

“It’s true,” he says grimly. “Your omega has challenged Takahashi for his omega's freedom.” 

Katsuki turns to Izuku and examines him for a long, considering moment. His eyes are bright, and for a moment, something like fondness colors his features. Izuku forces himself to remain firm, eyes hard and jaw set. And then Katsuki nods once, wheeling around to face Takahashi instead. 

“I accept your challenge,” he says, rich and full of authority. 

There’s a chorus of gasps. One whispers “your highness” and a few murmur their disapproval. Katsuki stands tall like it’s above his notice and Izuku stares at him in disbelief. 

“What?” Izuku finds himself saying. 

Katsuki’s gaze flicks toward him. For a moment, Izuku thinks his expression softens, but quickly that melts away, replaced with a fearsome glower. 

“You wanna challenge my omega?” Katsuki asks, eyes fierce on Takahashi. “Then you have to go through me first.” 

Oh. Izuku feels a flutter. His omega does a backflip, singing his praises like it’s their job. 

Alpha, alpha, my alpha, Izuku’s inner omega croons. 

Stop, Izuku thinks, gritting his teeth. 

“I challenged him,” Izuku protests, pressing a hand to his sternum. “I should be the one to fight him.” 

The crowd mutters apprehensively. Katsuki’s Fang-riders wince and look away like they’re uncomfortable, but Katsuki doesn’t break his gaze. 

“And you’re my omega,” Katsuki answers. “Your fights are my fights. Your challenges are my challenges. Whatever hardship comes your way is mine to bear.” 

Izuku blinks several times. What? Izuku had expected Katsuki to scoff, to grin and laugh at Izuku’s attempts to overcome an alpha so much greater than him in size and strength. That Katsuki would relish the opportunity to have his omega come back beaten, humbled, and grateful that Katsuki wasn’t half so malicious. Instead, Katsuki’s gaze is clear-eyed and serious. Like he means every word he’s just said. 

“What?” Izuku repeats. 

Katsuki turns away, leveling his hard gaze on Takahashi instead. 

“I’ll let you fight my omega,” he says. “If you defeat me first.” 

The crowd titters. Several mischievous glances are exchanged. Even his Fang-riders, Kirishima, the dark-haired girl, and the blond, seem amused. Takahashi huffs. 

“That wasn’t the deal,” he grouses. 

“You accepted the challenge of my omega,” Katsuki reasons. “And if you want him, you go through me first.” 

Takahashi snarls. “But that wasn’t the deal!” 

Katsuki tsks. “Tough luck.” 

The massive alpha’s hands bunch into fists, teeth clenched and rattling with a growl. He’s so huge he even towers over Katsuki, but the king only smirks, eyes glinting like he’s excited by the challenge. 

“Kirishima, Jirou, Kaminari, clear the area,” Katsuki barks out the order. Kirishima’s hand finds Izuku’s sternum, pushing him back and the others—Kaminari and Jirou—start ushering everyone to make room. Someone murmurs a spell, draws a rune into the air in golden sparkling light, and with a flick of their wrist, tents are magically uprooted. Made to walk like living things, they scooch closer together—insides and inhabitants and all. Izuku gapes at such an impressive display of magic. Is this how they managed to travel while still bringing so much with them? But Izuku doesn’t have time to be amazed. Soon enough, there’s a clearing wide enough for a proper duel and Katsuki and Takahashi prowl in a circle around one another like panthers waiting to strike. Something cold settles in Izuku’s gut. 

“Shit,” Izuku mutters. The alpha is so much bigger than Katsuki, tall and imposing, and his pheromones reek of pure alpha aggression. Honestly, Izuku would have been screwed if he had to go against Takahashi. “Is he gonna be alright?” 

Kirishima barks a laugh. 

“Trust me, your highness,” Kirishima says, shooting a grin at Izuku over his shoulder. “He’s gonna be just fine.” 

Takahashi snarls, lunging suddenly, and Katsuki’s grin only spreads. He lets Takahashi charge for him, feet pounding against the cold mud as he barrels forward. At the last second, Katsuki swerves to the right—bam! Faster than Izuku can process, Katsuki has snatched Takahashi’s wrist and thrown him over his shoulder. The massive alpha hits the ground hard and spittle flies out his mouth.  

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima cries, pumping his fist in the air. The surrounding crowd swells with jubilation and Izuku’s eyes widen. Katsuki had made that look…. Effortless. The king smirks down at Takahashi, who grumbles as he gets to his feet. 

“Surrender,” Katsuki orders, and then he breaks into a savage grin. “Or I’ll have to hurt you.” 

Takahashi roars. He throws himself at Katsuki, claws out and fangs flashing. He launches himself at Katsuki and the king laughs, darting away in a graceful leap as Takahashi’s momentum sends him face first into the mud. Katsuki tuts like he’s disappointed. 

“And here I thought you’d be a challenge,” he says. Takahashi gets to his feet, mud dripping off his face and mountain-like shoulders heaving. 

“Fight me like an alpha!” Takahashi demands, beating his chest with his fists. “None of this pussy-footing around!” 

Katsuki cackles like a mad man. Izuku feels prickles race up his spine. 

“Yeah?” the king prods. “Have it your way then.” 

And they slam together as one. Alpha fangs flash, claws swipe, growls ripple through the air. The tussle is so intense Izuku has trouble keeping track of who’s on top. Immediately Izuku recognizes that their mating duel was Katsuki merely playing with him. Here Katsuki is merciless, vicious. Crimson eyes blaze as he roars. His biceps bulge and tendons flex, he’s all savage fury as he lands punches, kicks Takahashi’s groin, rolls on top and seizes the larger alpha by the back of his throat. In one swift motion, Takahashi is face down and is once again eating mud. 

“Surrender!” Katsuki bellows. Takahashi thrashes underneath him. His arm bends awkwardly as he scrambles back to claw at the arm pinning him down, leaving deep gashes in their wake, but Katsuki doesn’t even flinch. He only smashes his head against the ground again, harder. “Surrender or I swear I’ll kill you.” 

Takahashi sputters. Spits. Pounds the earth with his fists. With a surge of sudden strength, he flips their positions and suddenly Katsuki is the one pinned to the muddy floor. 

“No!” Izuku cries out, forgetting himself. But he feels no fear through their bond, only a furious desire to win. Katsuki’s teeth are bared in a snarl and then Takahashi’s head is snapping to the side painfully as Katsuki decks him, pushes the larger alpha off, climbs on top—

“Surrender!” Katsuki shouts again as he pins Takahashi to the earth. Takahashi snarls up at him and Katsuki sneers back. “Have it your way.” 

He seizes a fistful of Takahashi’s hair, yanks his head up, and smashes his skull against the earth with a sickening crack. Takahashi’s golden eyes roll back, body going slack. Knocked out cold. 

The crowd goes wild. They stamp their feet and throw their hands up in triumph. Kirishima punches the sky and whoops. The other two Fang-riders scream Katsuki’s name. Katsuki stands tall, mud-slick and bare chest puffed up in pride, and—

And he looks right at Izuku. He’s panting heavily, blood smeared on his cheek, flames dancing in his crimson gaze. Arousal pools in Izuku’s gut like sun-warmed honey and oh godstars. Oh godstars. His cunt flutters and fuck, why is he slicking right now? 

Katsuki’s gaze remains fixed on Izuku as he marches forward, his muddy cape billowing behind him as the crowd cheers around them. Blood rushes in Izuku’s ears and to his small cock, leaving him lightheaded and slightly dizzy. 

The king doesn’t stop until they’re only inches apart and for a moment, all they do is stare at one another. Both breathing heavily, both with unreadable expressions. Katsuki’s gaze dips to the bite mark on Izuku’s throat and the omega’s breath catches. 

“Sugiyama is free to mate who she likes,” Katsuki says. 

And then, as quick as he came, he brushes past Izuku and saunters off. Izuku blinks twice. What? He swivels, staring after the alpha in disbelief. 

What the hell just happened? 

Sugiyama falls into Gotou’s embrace, sobbing and smiling and kissing her alpha all at once. Money trades hands, laughter fills the air, but Izuku can only stare after his mate in awe. 

Izuku doesn’t know what compels him to do it. He can’t explain it. Can’t give the feeling that urges him a name. But he finds himself chasing Katsuki like it’s second nature. 

“Wait.” 

Katsuki turns, one blond brow quirked in interest. 

“Your arm,” Izuku says, gesturing to the deep gouges in Katsuki’s forearm. Blood oozes from them lazily, dripping down to the earth in a steady drip, drip, drip. “I’m an apothecary. Let me treat it.” 

It’s only fair, Izuku reasons. Katsuki was only hurt because Izuku recklessly challenged an alpha almost triple the omega’s size. Undoubtedly Izuku would be beaten black and blue if he actually had to follow through on his promise to fight for Sugiyama’s freedom. It’s the least he can do really. 

Something strange flickers through Katsuki’s gaze. Interest seeps through the bond. And then he nods once. 

“Come,” he says, and Izuku follows after him. 

The apothecary’s tent is a dream. 

Izuku has to fight not to actually squee in excitement. Jars upon jars of ointments, herbs, and poultices. Boxes of dry leaves and fresh gauze. Mortar and pestles, books, and clean linen, it’s everything Izuku could ever dream of having. Such a wealth of medicine would last his village for years. 

The elderly apothecaries rush to Katsuki’s side. They’re all in long orange robes and strange half-masks that obscure the lower half of their faces, and they bow lowly before murmuring their concern when they see Katsuki is bleeding. The king dismisses them with a flick of his wrist. 

“Leave us,” he orders. “My omega will tend to me.” 

My omega. Godstars damn the flutter Izuku feels at the statement. He can only pray that Katsuki can’t feel it through the bond. The apothecaries bow to them before leaving the tent hastily. 

And then they’re alone.

Fuck. Izuku’s heart is hammering in his chest and he can’t explain why. He busies himself looking for the herbs he’ll need: yarrow to prevent infection, motherflower to soothe pain, heartsbane to staunch the bleeding. He rummages through the many boxes and jars, using his keen omega nose to guide him. Katsuki collapses onto one of the thick cushions adorning the floor and watches him, something almost predatory in his gaze. 

Ignore him, Izuku tells himself. He’s just another patient right now. But still, Izuku feels the alpha’s eyes like a physical touch. Like soft caressing fingers dragging down to the base of his spine. Izuku fights not to shiver with it. 

It’s a terse silence. Katsuki’s pheromones are strong, still flared after an intense battle, and he floods the tent with his scent so thickly that Izuku could cut it with a knife. It’s like caramel coated on Izuku’s tongue, sticky and suffocating and agonizingly sweet. Izuku tells himself he hates it. Pretends his cunt doesn’t throb in the rhythm of Katsuki’s breathing. He makes quick work of smashing the herbs with his pestle, maybe more aggressively than usual. 

Katsuki’s gaze doesn’t leave him once. A vision flashes through Izuku’s mind: of himself, bent over this work table, trousers pooled around his ankles, pinned by the throat and panting as Katsuki enters him. Fuck, his cunt flexes and he has to stop it, stop it. The king must sense his arousal because one corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk. 

Once the poultice is ready, Izuku pads over to him and kneels at his side.  

“Give me your arm,” Izuku orders, curt and clinical. Katsuki offers it to him and Izuku tucks a pillow underneath it to prop it up. “This will sting.” 

The king grunts in response, eyes still locked on Izuku, but Izuku refuses to meet his gaze. He focuses on his work instead, first cleaning the wounds before using his fingers to smooth poultice over the gashes. Katsuki’s skin is hot to the touch, and—fuck the small contact rushes over through Izuku in a cool, prickling tide.  

It’s quiet. Only the soft sounds of their breathing and the brush of skin against skin as Izuku covers his wounds in medicine. 

“Why’d you do that?” Katsuki murmurs, low and rumbly. 

Izuku’s heart zips up into his throat, a spark zig-zagging up his spine. He swallows thickly, forcing himself to keep up his ministrations, even as his hands shake. 

“Do what?” Izuku asks coolly. 

“The omega,” Katsuki continues. “Why challenge for her freedom?” 

Izuku’s scoff streams out his nose. 

“No one should be mated to an alpha they don’t love,” Izuku says, hoping the words hit Katsuki where it hurts. But the pang of anguish Izuku feels through the bond doesn’t satisfy him. Instead, Izuku’s gut twists like it’s been wrung out by a firm hand. 

“Takahashi was one of my Fang-riders,” Katsuki tells him. “He didn’t follow orders. Went against my orders and killed when it wasn’t necessary. I stripped him of his honors and titles. Sentenced him to a life of shit-shovelling. He would have relished killing you.” 

Ah. Izuku’s throat tightens. 

“I suppose you mean to scold me then,” Izuku says, quiet as he retrieves the gauze and begins to wrap Katsuki’s arm up tight. 

Katsuki’s gaze is steady and serious. 

“You need to learn to defend yourself,” Katsuki says. When Izuku’s mouth opens to protest, Katsuki continues, “You’re a fierce fighter, but untrained. I could teach you.” 

Izuku scoffs again, louder this time. 

“Teach an omega to fight?” he demands. Such things were strictly forbidden in his village. Even Izuku’s ability to read and write was seen as a dreadful taboo. But Katsuki only nods. 

“Everyone in this tribe is taught basic combat,” Katsuki says, dipping his head. “Especially the omegas.” 

Izuku’s mouth twists. He yanks on the gauze, tightening the wrap more than what is strictly required. 

“So it’s true,” Izuku states. “A claimed omega can fight for their freedom?” 

“Yes,” Katsuki says, nodding once.  

Another layer of gauze wraps around Katsuki’s arm, even tighter this time. 

“Even me?” 

The silence is so perfect Izuku thinks he could hear a pin drop. Izuku keeps wrapping his arm, but doesn’t dare breathe. Katsuki’s gaze doesn’t falter. 

“If you wish,” Katsuki answers. Izuku opens his mouth and a finger is quickly pressed to his lips. “Don’t be rash. You’re nowhere near my level yet, dumbass.” 

Yet. Izuku’s heart thuds in his chest. He jerks his head to the side, shaking off Katsuki’s finger and bearing his little omega fangs at the king meanly. Katsuki only chuffs. 

“If you want to challenge every alpha in this tribe, I would let you,” Katsuki says evenly. “Do as you like. I don’t give a fuck. But you should learn how to fucking defend yourself first. Let me teach you. I could show you how to beat me.” He licks his lips, blond lashes fluttering. “I could teach you magic.” 

Izuku’s heart drops to his feet. The gauze falls out of his hands, unspooling onto the floor as Izuku’s gaze jolts to meet Katsuki’s in disbelief. 

“Wh-what?” Izuku stammers. No, no this has to be some kind of trick. He shakes his head like he can shake off the hope flaring in his heart. “Why on earth would you—?” 

“Because you’re my omega,” Katsuki answers simply, and the earnestness that floods through the bond is so potent and pure that Izuku fights not to tremble with it. Izuku shakes his head again. 

“I’ll—I’ll fight you,” Izuku tells him. He stoops to gather up the fallen gauze, a flush burning in his cheeks. “I’ll challenge you for my freedom. I’ll only use it to hurt you.” 

For some reason, this makes Katsuki smirk. 

“I know.” 

Izuku waits for more, but it never comes. The king just keeps staring at him, something ferocious in his gaze and for some reason, Izuku can’t find it within him to break it. His heart thuds in his chest, a flush creeping up his neck as they stare at one another.  

“Why would you do that?” Izuku asks, too softly for his liking. 

Katsuki sits up, bringing their faces close. Izuku swallows thickly. 

“Do I need a reason?” Katsuki asks. Izuku huffs, almost a laugh. 

“Why not just free me?” Izuku asks back, just a bit sharper. Katsuki smirks like that’s the answer he’s been waiting for. 

“Because you are fuckin’ wasted as an apothecary,” Katsuki tells him, low and rumbly. His gaze flickers down to Izuku’s mouth and then back up again. “I can help you. I can show you how to become so much more.” 

Lost in crimson eyes, Izuku can’t help but picture it. If he learned magic, he would be free to travel where he likes. Explore new lands, see the world. Trade his magical services for coin, maybe even take on an apprentice as he ages. Maybe he could even track down Toshinori and thank him for everything. The adventures he’d imagined only existed in storybooks and fairytales could be his life. And if he challenged Katsuki for his freedom, he could do it all without the looming threat of a pursuing alpha at his back. 

Still, he can’t help but ask. 

“What’s the catch?” 

Katsuki’s grin is startlingly handsome. A flutter creeps up Izuku’s throat as he stares at him, somehow knowing breaking their gaze would be a grievous mistake.

“The catch,” the king says, looming in a touch closer. “Is that you give up your dumbass escape plan.”

Izuku jolts, horror shooting through his veins. 

“What?” he shrills. “I—I don’t know what you—”

Katsuki scoffs. 

“You’re a shitty liar, Deku,” Katsuki says, almost scornful. “You’ve been resisting me every step of the way, of course you’d be planning to make a break for it. Besides.” A cat-like grin spreads across his face. “You mutter in your sleep.”

Damnit. Izuku knew he woke up to Katsuki bringing him breakfast but he never thought—godstars, he should have been more hypervigilant. He should have made sure to be awake before Katsuki could creep into his tent and hear him. 

“Listen, going out on your own is the stupidest fucking thing you could do right now,” Katsuki says scornfully. “You’re my mate. Word’s already spread about you, and I have a lot of enemies that would love to get their hands on you. They know I’d wage war over someone touchin’ my omega. And they’d be a hell of a lot meaner than I’ve been to you now. You got that?”

A shudder rolls through Izuku, but Katsuki isn’t done.

“I can’t let anyone have leverage over me so I need to know you can handle yourself.” Katsuki’s eyes glint with something mean. “So challenge me if you fuckin’ like, but until you can at least beat me, I ain’t letting you go anywhere.”

Izuku’s jaw tightens. No doubt this would mean he would be Katsuki’s omega for months, if not years as he trained to challenge him. He would have to travel with them once they restored Izuku’s village, spend countless hours in Katsuki’s company learning combat and magic. It was a lot longer than Izuku anticipated, sure, but... 

I can teach you magic. 

The bright thrill in his gut is almost painful. He swallows thickly before nodding. He wonders if Toshinori would be proud of him. 

“Alright,” Izuku says, slow and careful like the creep of molasses. “Fine. I won’t try to escape.” 

Not yet anyway, he adds in his head. Katsuki’s grin is truly wicked. 

“Good.”

Chapter Text

Izuku still remembers his first brush with magic. 

He’d been no older than five. Wide-eyed and bushy-haired, he was already a misfit amongst the village children. The other kids bullied him, made fun of the way he muttered and mocked him for being a rare male omega. They shoved him to the ground and threw rocks at him. Sometimes they took the herbs out of his hands and scattered them into the dirt. 

This is how Toshinori found him: Izuku on his knees in the mud, picking loose leaves up where he could and crying. 

“My boy,” he’d said, in a gruff and comforting timbre. “Why are you crying?” 

Izuku could only stare up at him, wary of strangers and wobbly eyed. He sniffled, rubbing his nose on his sheep-skin glove. The man was near skeletal and jarring to look at, but his scent was a comforting cedar. Toshinori had looked at the muddy remains of his herbs in Izuku’s hands and had gone “ah.” 

And then, with a twist of his wrist, his fingers began to glow. Where once was a frail, thin man was a hulking mass of an alpha and Izuku jumped back, startled. Toshinori muttered some words, traced golden patterns into the air and—

All at once, the herbs stuck to the thick mud zipped up into Izuku’s hands.The warmth of magic rushed over him. Filling the air with light, it buzzed over his skin pleasantly. Sparkling little orbs trailing in their wake, Izuku can only watch in awe as the herbs reassemble themselves, once again becoming whole stalks of mugwort. His hair was swept back at the gush of wind and his eyes shone with wonder.  

Magic. Real, actual magic. 

All Izuku could do was gape. The man shrunk to his original size as soon as the magic finished its work and he smiled down upon Izuku kindly. 

“There,” he said. “All better.” 

Emerald eyes were wide and round as coins. Izuku’s heart was lodged in his throat. He could barely stammer out his thanks, all flushed cheeks and shiny eyes. 

But when the man turned to leave, Izuku couldn’t help calling out to him. 

“Wait!” 

Dark blond brows jumped into Toshinori’s hairline. 

“Can—can I learn how to do that too?” 

Toshinori turned back to him and smiled. 

Four months. For four short months Toshinori had stayed with Izuku and his mother in their apothecary’s hut while he recovered from his infected lung. And during that brief snatch of time, he showed Izuku real magic. 

“You must be disciplined,” Toshinori had said, smiling as little Izuku laughed and chased the conjured fairy lights throughout the house. “Strong, fearless. Magic will not let just anyone wield it.” 

Izuku turned his bright eyes on the man, all full of eagerness. 

“So I have to be special?” 

Toshinori smiled kindly. 

“It means you must prove yourself worthy of wielding such a power.” 

They begin the very next day. 

“Get up,” Katsuki says, yanking the furs off Izuku’s sleeping form. “We’re running.” 

Izuku winces, not opening his eyes and groaning. He cracks one eye open and the tent is dark, still soaked in the blue-light of pre-dawn. He squints up at his mate, frowning. 

“Huh?” Izuku says, intelligently. 

“We’re running,” Katsuki says again, impatient this time. “Your body needs to be in peak condition to wield magic and you haven’t left this tent in days.” 

An electric spike strikes through Izuku’s heart and he jolts to full alertness. 

Right. 

Magic. 

Godstars, Izuku could choke on his excitement. Katsuki, however, looks less enthused. 

“Here.” 

Thwap! A bundle of fabric hits Izuku right in the face. What the hell? Izuku snatches it off before glowering at Katsuki. 

“Get dressed and meet me outside,” Katsuki orders before promptly sweeping out of the room. As soon as the tent flap shuts behind Katsuki, Izuku lets out an irritable huff. 

“Rude,” he mutters.

“I heard that!” 

Izuku’s cheeks sting with embarrassment, but whatever. He’s learning magic today, he can put up with Katsuki's bad attitude. He jumps into the provided trousers and green tunic, stuffing his feet into his boots before whipping the tent flap open and joining Katsuki outside. He’s bare-chested, but without his usual red cloak today. His little fanged earrings jiggle as his head jerks to the side. 

“Come on,” he says. “Follow me.” 

He stalks through the sea of tents and Izuku doesn’t see that he has any other choice but to follow. As soon as they’re outside the camp’s perimeter, they break into a light run, heading for the trees. 

Excitement buzzes through Izuku’s veins. Magic, today he learns magic. Who cares if jogging through the mud and snow sounds tedious? Anything. Izuku would do absolutely anything for this. It’s been his dream ever since Toshinori taught him what true magic was. He wants to wield it once again, feel the warm rush of its power in his finger tips, the glow of it tingling in his chest, the kind of alive that one only feels when magic is coursing through them. It makes Izuku feel ten pounds lighter as he jogs behind Katsuki.  

The king is fast. Even through the snow and mud, he keeps a good pace. Katsuki leaps over fallen logs gracefully, weaving through the trees smoothly, and even hopping from one rock to another as they cross an icy stream. Izuku is breathing hard, but he doesn’t struggle to keep up. He’s won every single mating run he’s been forced into since he was sixteen. This is child’s play compared to that. And there’s something invigorating about it too. Dodging low-hanging branches, swerving around boulders to chase Katsuki down feels… right. Empowering somehow. 

Every once and a while, Katsuki glances back to make sure Izuku is still there and there’s a glimmer of pride through the bond each time they make eye contact. Izuku pretends it doesn’t make his cheeks flush. 

Eventually they stumble upon a river cutting through the trees. Katsuki slows to a stop at the pebbled edge, breathing hard and looking this way and that, but there’s nowhere to cross. It’s even colder here with the spray of river water, and despite being overheated from their run, Izuku finds himself shivering. 

Katsuki stoops, reaching out and skimming his fingers over the river’s rippling surface. He glances at Izuku, cocking his head to the side as he gestures for him to come over.  

“C’mere.” 

Oh. Izuku has no idea why that makes his belly swoop, but he resolutely ignores it, stepping forward and crouching with Katsuki. 

“Feel the water,” Katsuki instructs, dipping his hand in further. Already his fingertips are reddening with the cold. “Feel the current. Feel how it flows.” 

Izuku eyes him warily, but does as he’s told and—ah! Shit, the water is freezing. Izuku cringes as he submerges his hand, but Katsuki is watching so he refuses to retract. 

“You feel that?” Katsuki asks in his low, rumbly voice. Izuku bites back a shudder. “Feel how it’s moving?”

Izuku closes his eyes as he tries to concentrate on it. The way the water slides through his fingers, the pulse of the current. How it somehow feels like a living thing against his palm. 

“I feel it,” Izuku says, and it comes out a whisper. 

Katsuki hums approvingly. 

“Magic is like this,” Katsuki tells him, hand gliding through the water. “Always moving. Always flowing. Once you tap into your magical centers, you’ll be able to feel it too. Like a second pulse, like a river coursing inside you.” 

Izuku stares at him, starry-eyed and enraptured. 

“How do I tap in?” he demands and Katsuki smirks. 

“Gotta unblock your chakras first,” he answers, heaving a sigh. Right. Izuku knows about chakras. It was the first thing Toshinori taught him: that every single person on earth had seven, magical energy centers in their body trailing from the base of their spine to the crown of their head. Root, sacral, solar plexus, heart, throat, and crown, each played a critical spiritual role. These energy points were how all energy—including magic—travelled through the body. Katsuki shuffles to sit at the gravelly riverside and makes a ‘come here’ gesture with two fingers. “Let me feel them.” 

Unsure what to do, Izuku only blinks at him and Katsuki rolls his eyes. 

“Just sit down.” 

Hesitantly, Izuku obeys. The river has melted the snow here, but the rocks are still cold. At least they aren’t in the shade. The sun makes the river sparkle with pale gold light. Katsuki turns toward him, a wariness in his gaze. 

“I’m gonna have to touch you, so don’t freak the fuck out,” Katsuki says, tersely. Izuku tenses. 

“I—I don’t—” 

And then there’s a hand pressed to his heartbeat.

Oh. 

There’s the layer of Izuku’s tunic between them, of course, but Katsuki is just so close. His palm is so warm and broad. His handsome face is inches from Izuku’s own, and the soft steam of his breathing ghosts over Izuku’s lips.

And then Katsuki murmurs something indistinguishable. A whispered spell. 

Something warm blooms between the two of them and Izuku gasps, looking down. Wispy golden spirals escape Katsuki’s fingertips. They wash over Izuku and it’s like springtime sunshine on his cheeks. Warm wind brushes Izuku’s curls back, sparkles dance in the air. Izuku’s inhale is shaky, but the magic-laced air is somehow clearer, sharper, and more invigorating. And it’s so achingly familiar. Just like it was with Toshinori. 

Izuku glances at Katsuki and godstars. The light gracing his features only makes the king look more beautiful. But Katsuki doesn’t look back, only frowns as he concentrates on Izuku’s sternum. 

“Your heart chakra is strong,” Katsuki murmurs and Izuku’s belly flutters with a strange, pleased feeling. And then Katsuki’s hand lowers to the plane of Izuku’s stomach and the omega’s breath hitches. “Solar plexus feels good too.” 

Izuku swallows thickly, doing everything he can to not focus on how good Katsuki’s touch feels. 

“Yeah?” he prods.

Katsuki nods. “Got lots of willpower and compassion. That’s good. Magic needs those things to take root inside you.” 

Izuku feels like he’s glowing with his praise. His omega croons happily. Alpha likes us, alpha likes us! Which—no, shut up, this is about magic not about Katsuki. 

Katsuki glances down at Izuku’s pelvis. Slowly, his hand lowers further and Izuku smacks him away on instinct. 

“Don’t,” he snaps. Katsuki tches. 

“Relax,” Katsuki says, dripping with condescension. “I’m not tryina feel you up, this is important.” 

War rages inside Izuku’s chest. Hope and dread, fear and desire battle like cobras slithering around his torso. His emotions wind together, squeezing and snapping fangs at one another, and Izuku isn’t sure which side is winning, but his omega is begging please, please, please. 

For magic, Izuku tells himself. 

“Fine.”

And then Katsuki’s broad palm slides down, pressing against Izuku’s womb, mere inches away from his sex. 

Oh saints above. Oh godstars. Oh holy fuck. Izuku’s insides melt into magma, oozing through him slow and hot and needy. His alpha’s scent curls around him all wonderful caramel and cinnamon smoke. All at once it’s like Izuku is hypnotized. A haze falls over his mind and all he wants is for that hand to slide even lower, to cup his cunt and little cock in his grasp and have his way with him. 

Fuck! No, what the hell is he thinking? Izuku bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to bleed. He can’t let Katsuki smell his arousal, it’s too mortifying.

But if the king notices Izuku’s predicament, he gives no sign of it. He stares down at Izuku’s pelvis clinically, studying the golden spirals that bloom from his palm-press. 

“Relax,” Katsuki says again. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” 

Izuku chokes on his whimper. Godsdamn him. Why couldn’t he have been ugly? Why does Izuku feel this raw, primal attraction to him? He’s awful, the king is a terrible person, he shouldn’t be feeling this magnetism between them. 

But he can’t help it. His omega wants what it wants. 

Alpha, it croons. My alpha. 

Izuku’s crises rages on in his head and Katsuki hums like he’s considering something. 

“Root chakra is looking pretty rough,” he admits. “Sacral chakra too.” He glances up at Izuku through blond lashes. “What are you afraid of?” 

You, Izuku thinks immediately. Wanting you. Being stuck with you. Not knowing what you want from me. Izuku swallows thickly. 

“What?” Izuku says it just to buy himself time to think. He’s breathing hard again and he hates it. “I—I don’t—” 

“I can feel it,” Katsuki tells him, leveling Izuku with his gaze. “Fear is what blocks the root chakra. It’s all here.” 

He presses against Izuku’s womb harder and oh godstars. Izuku knows he’s slicking and he can’t stop, can’t stop. He seizes Katsuki’s wrist and wrenches him off. 

“Why does it matter?” Izuku demands. Katsuki gives him a flat look. 

“Because magic is bigger than all of us,” Katsuki answers. “It’s in the air we breathe, the food we eat and the water we drink. It’s pure cosmic energy. It only bends to the strongest of wills and if you’re afraid of it, it’ll consume you just like this river.” 

A muscle in Izuku’s jaw twitches. Toshinori had told him something similar, so he knows it must be true. But still, he shakes his head stubbornly anyway. 

“I’m not afraid of magic,” he says and Katsuki scoffs. 

“Doesn’t matter what you’re afraid of,” the king answers. His blood red eyes gleam like jewels. “It matters that the fear is holding you back. You need to be physically, emotionally, and spiritually balanced for magic to bend to your will. Magic needs a clear channel to run through you. All seven chakras gotta be working properly and right now, whatever you’re afraid of is blocking you.” 

Izuku feels a stab of irritation, but bites it down quickly. This is the magic training he’s dreamt of all his life, he can’t waste time bickering with Katsuki. 

“Okay,” he says, evenly. “So how do I do that?” 

Katsuki smirks and he’s so devastatingly handsome that Izuku sort of wants to hit him. 

“Embrace it,” Katsuki answers like it's simple. “Conquer it.” 

Izuku blinks twice. “Conquer it?” 

Katsuki nods. “You can’t let it control you. Same goes for all the other shit that blocks chakras. Shame, guilt, insecurity. It’s all gotta get worked through before magic will bend to your will.” 

Izuku’s brows pinch together. “But why?” 

Katsuki makes an exasperated sound. 

“Because you gotta be in control,” Katsuki answers, jabbing a finger in Izuku’s chest. “Not whatever bullshit controls you.” 

Izuku ponders this on their jog back. He doesn’t think he’s a fearful person. Hell, just yesterday he’d challenged a massive alpha to a duel. But he also doesn’t think Katsuki is lying to him either. No deception niggles through the bond and he remembers Toshinori going through Izuku’s chakras too. 

“You’re a strong one,” Toshinori had said, smiling affectionately. “Keep yourself that way.” 

And Izuku had. Or he tried to anyway. But maybe he hadn’t done a good enough job. Ugh, the doubt wriggles inside him like worms. 

As soon as they reach the perimeter of the camp, Katsuki is snapping his fingers and barking orders. Izuku is to have a bath and a midday meal. He escorts Izuku back to his tent, holding the flap open for Izuku and—

Izuku gasps. 

His tent has been completely rearranged. His nest and chest of clothes remain the same, but everything else is different. Bookshelves line walls, a desk has been added, herbs are hanging from the ceiling, and he even has a cauldron overhanging his enchanted fire. It’s… homier somehow. Cozier. Izuku’s gaze darts to Katsuki, momentarily wondering if they stumbled into the wrong tent. Katsuki gestures with his head in a ‘go on’ motion. 

“What?” Izuku whispers, stepping inside. “What is—? I don’t—” 

“A courting gift,” Katsuki explains. He breaks into a lopsided grin. “You like it?” 

Like it? Izuku’s head is spinning. He’s never seen so many books in his life. Aged and weathered, bound in leather and with yellow pages. Izuku picks one up and flips through it and—oh. 

“It’s a grimoire,” Izuku whispers reverently. Godstars, this is the kind of thing he’d always been dreaming of saving up for. A whole book on magic. Katsuki leans up against one bookshelf, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Oh godstars. Toshinori-san had one, but I never thought—they’re so rare and magicians never want to part with them—I can’t believe—”

He shoots Katsuki a nasty look suddenly. 

“Did you steal this?” he demands.

“No I didn’t—that’s my mentor's book, dumbass!” Katsuki snaps. He shakes his head like Izuku is unbelievable. “He created a spell that can copy books quickly and gave me one.” 

Izuku narrows his eyes, still suspicious. “And the others?” 

“Copies,” Katsuki presses, folding his arms across his chest. “Stars, how fuckin’ dumb do you think I am? I wouldn’t be alive if I pissed off every magician I came across.”

Slowly, Izuku nods. That made sense. And if Katsuki really can copy any book he wants, it would make sense that he has a lot of valuable knowledge to offer in exchange. The excitement starts to swell in his chest again. He looks around the room and—fuck, there’s dozens and dozens of them. More books than Izuku could have ever dreamt of owning. 

“And these are all mine?” Izuku can’t help but ask. Katsuki softens at that. 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding once. “You like them?” 

Izuku thinks he could vibrate out of his body with his excitement. The exhilaration is so potent and pure it feels like it’s in the air surrounding him. Izuku feels the absurd impulse to hug Katsuki, and promptly shoves it down. Happy tears glimmer in his eyes. 

Katsuki clears his throat. 

“There’s more,” Katsuki says, and is it Izuku or does the king seem nervous? He gestures to the desk with a nod. “‘S’not really a gift, but I figured you should have them.” 

What? Izuku wheels around and—

And there they are. Scrappy, hobbled-together things, his handmade books are hideous compared to the ones surrounding them, but they’re unmistakably his own. All his research, all his notes and speculation. Years and years of hard work. Izuku cries out in joy. 

“Oh my gods!” He rushes forward to flip through them and—yup. It’s all there. “I—I never thought I’d see them again. I—” 

He whips around, staring at Katsuki in disbelief. 

“Thank you,” he breathes. 

Katsuki’s ears flush an incriminating red. He scoffs, looking away and folding his arms across his chest. 

“Dumbass,” he mutters. “Don’t thank me for that. Of course I was gonna get you your stuff back.” 

Again, Izuku feels a wild urge to throw his arms around the king—but no, he must remain firm. He wiggles with his excitement. 

“Oh my gods, I can’t wait, I’ve always wanted to read a real grimoire. Toshinori-san had one but I was too little to really remember anything—fuck, this is amazing, I can’t believe—are these really all grimoires? They can’t be. Fuck, I don’t even know where to begin—” 

A soft sound of amusement streams out Katsuki’s nose. He turns toward one of the shelves, taking a book from the row and passing it to Izuku. 

“This is the one my old hag gave me when I started learning magic,” he explains. “It’ll explain the chakras to you and how to unblock them.” Suddenly a finger is jabbed in Izuku’s face. “I’m giving you the rest of the day to study, but don’t fuckin’ spend all night reading. You'll need your rest for physical training tomorrow.” 

Izuku has no idea how he’s supposed to keep that promise, but whatever, it’s fine. What Katsuki doesn’t know won’t kill him. Godstars, can someone die of excitement? Izuku thinks he just might. The omega grins up at Katsuki, big and happy, and the king shirks back. His expression softens in surprise, making him look younger, almost boyish. His throat bobs as he swallows. 

“T-take a bath, you stink,” Katsuki says, taking a step back. His ears redden as he looks away. “We’re done for the day. I’ll see you tomorrow at sunrise.” 

Katsuki exits the tent abruptly, but Izuku hardly notices. He struggles to focus on anything that isn’t the grimoires in his possession. Magic, magic, real books on real magic are at his fingertips! Who cares if he’s stinky? Oceans of knowledge are suddenly available to Izuku and all he wants to do is drown in it.

Except the sweat sticking to his skin is sort of uncomfortable. He washes in record time, and then scarfs down his meal with the book Katsuki recommended in one hand. 

Chakras are the key to a powerful magic-wielder, the text reads. Mastery over oneself and one's vices is critical. If magic is the ever-churning river, then you must be the boulder that warps its path. 

Izuku is enthralled. He’s so excited he forgets to take notes. Just drinking in the vast wealth of knowledge and trying to absorb as much as he can is already overwhelming. Curled up in his nest, dressed in clean silks, and a grimoire in hand, Izuku is the happiest he’s been in—well, maybe ever actually. Definitely since his mom died. Maybe even ever since Toshinori left their village, when Izuku was only five.  

If only they could see me now, Izuku thinks. 

Katsuki takes him back to the woods the next morning for their physical training. Izuku assumes they’re just beginning the day by jogging again, but when they stumble upon a wide, circular clearing Katsuki pulls to a stop. He perches his hands on his slim hips and nods. 

“We’ll learn the basics of hand-to-hand combat here,” Katsuki tells him. 

Izuku’s heart rate spikes. Wait, here alone with Katsuki and with no witnesses? Running together was one thing, but actual sparring with hits flying and bodies tussling was another thing altogether. His anxiety must leak through the bond, because Katsuki rolls his eyes. 

“It’s for your own protection, moron,” Katsuki says, like it’s obvious. “I can’t let word spread that my omega can’t defend himself.” 

Outrage flares in the place of anxiety. Izuku stands up straight, squaring his shoulders and clenching his hands into fists. 

“I can defend myself fine,” Izuku snaps and Katsuki snorts. 

“Right,” Katsuki says, flatly. “Show me then.” 

And then he’s lunging at Izuku. 

It’s over before it begins. One second Izuku is on his feet, defiant and indignant, and the next he’s on his back, pinned and thrashing under Katsuki’s steel grip. His hands are held above his head, legs locked down by a heavy knee, and Katsuki’s smirk looms above him. Fuck, and he’d done it so easily. Izuku snarls, tiny omegan fangs bared. 

“That’s not fair,” Izuku defends and Katsuki scoffs. 

“Gods, you’re naive. You think assassins are gonna give a shit about ‘fair’?” Katsuki demands. “I wasn’t kidding when I said my enemies are merciless.” 

Izuku flushes so hard that he’s shocked the surrounding snow doesn’t melt at the heat of it. He growls as he wiggles under Katsuki’s grip, but it’s no use. He’s too strong, too overwhelming. Even his scent seems to push Izuku down. Katsuki rolls off him and Izuku glares daggers at the king’s back. 

“Try again,” is all Katsuki says.  

And so Izuku tries. Again and again and again and each time ends the same: with Izuku on his back and helpless. His strategies, and plans, and bouts of desperation are all nothing against Katsuki’s overwhelming power. Once, Izuku almost gets the upper hand, rolling on top of Katsuki and pushing his powerful arms to the snowy earth. But then there’s a surge of magic and Izuku is knocked back by a punch of glitter. Ow. Izuku cringes as he falls back onto the snow. 

“What the hell?” Izuku snaps, sitting up straight. “That’s—that wasn’t—” 

Katsuki’s grin makes Izuku want to rake his claws through his face. 

“My political enemies have magical assassins too,” Katsuki says. “Deal with it.” 

Fuck it. Izuku doesn’t care if it’s reckless, he lunges at Katsuki, fangs bared and claws flashing in the morning light. Katsuki sighs through his nose like he expected this, and then all at once, Izuku’s wrist is snatched out of the air, and like he’s weightless as a kitten, he’s thrown over Katsuki’s shoulder. His back hits the ground hard. Stars dance in Izuku’s eyes as he groans up at the sky. 

“Now you’re just bein’ stupid,” Katsuki says, sounding disappointed. Izuku hits the snowy earth with his fist, forcing himself to sit up once again. 

“Maybe I’d be better if you tried teaching me something instead of just throwing me around!” Izuku snaps. Katsuki rolls his eyes. 

“I’m assessing where you’re at, dumbass,” Katsuki snaps back. And Izuku lunges again, attempting and failing to wrestle Katsuki to the ground. 

They go at it for hours. Rolling in the snow, snarling at each other, exchanging blows. Katsuki gives him tips here and there. Teaches him where to aim punches, how to swerve his body into his hits to give them extra power, and shows him how to break out of the holds Katsuki has him in. 

“Come on,” Katsuki goads, pressing Izuku into the snow. Sweaty, bruised, and exhausted, Izuku tries to mimic the twisting motion Katsuki had shown him, but it’s no use. “Harder, Izuku.” 

Harder. Izuku feels a pulse in his cock, and it infuriates him. What the hell is wrong with him? Sure there’s been a lot of manhandling and he’s so soaked in Katsuki’s scent that he can’t help but be a little tempted, but they’re fighting here, not mating. He’s so frustrated at his own confused feelings that with a cry and all his might, he twists and— 

Katsuki holds strong. Izuku is still pinned and his arms are still locked in Katsuki’s grip. Katsuki tsks like it’s a shame. 

“You’re close,” Katsuki tells him. “Just a bit more.” 

Izuku growls at him, rage steaming through his teeth. With another scream, he puts his whole body into it and—and—

Fuck, they’re rolling over and Izuku collapses on top of him. He’s shaking so hard with exertion and adrenaline that he goes boneless—just barely catching himself on one hand as he looms over the king.

Katsuki’s grin is all manic glee. “Good, Izuku!” 

Fuck. Izuku pretends that doesn’t make his heart leap. It’s an intimate position, with Izuku draped over Katsuki and the two of them breathing in each other’s faces. He feels a now-familiar thrill of arousal and—no! Stop! Izuku scrambles off of him like he’s been electrocuted. Katsuki props himself up on one elbow, eyes all full of pride. 

“Do it again,” Katsuki orders. 

Izuku plops onto the ground, shaking his head. He can’t; he can’t afford the king detecting his arousal. 

“I dunno if I can.” 

“Try,” Katsuki says, unforgivingly harsh. “Come on, Izuku. Just once more.” 

Ugh. Izuku glares at him hard, but Katsuki only pops his brows at him. And then before Izuku can think better of it, he’s tackling the king to the ground ferociously. 

Once turns into twice, which rolls into a third and a fourth time too. Izuku finds his back hitting the ground bruisingly hard and he gasps. 

“Fuck!” he wheezes, cringing as speckles crowd his vision. “I—I can’t—” 

“You’re alright,” Katsuki tells him, unusually gentle. He hovers above him, breathing into his face. “You’re okay, Izuku.” 

Godstars, it’s too much. Katsuki’s suffocating caramel and cinnamon scent, the raw power in his limbs, the rumbling tenor of his voice. Izuku can barely think straight. 

Good alpha, his inner omega purrs. Best alpha. 

Shut the fuck up, Izuku thinks back tersely. He has bruises just about everywhere and his stupid omega can’t stop lusting after the man who literally kidnapped him. It stokes the flames of his rage and with a surge of anger, Izuku finds some inner well of strength and shoves Katsuki off of him. Katsuki goes rolling into the snow and beams. 

“Good,” Katsuki says. He gets to his feet, breathing hard. “That’s enough for today.” 

Oh thank the saints. Izuku collapses into the snow with a groan and Katsuki grins, offering him a hand. Izuku takes it, making a truly pained sound as he’s hauled to his feet. 

“Next time we run home,” Katsuki tells him. “But today we can walk.” 

“Hobble” is the more accurate term. The trek back is absolutely miserable. Izuku is sore just about everywhere: his head throbs, and his hands can’t stop shaking. He’s pushed himself beyond his limits, he knows, but he can’t bring himself to regret it. Shoving Katsuki off of him felt good. Giving it his all felt good. He thinks he could collapse into the snow and pass out right now, but it’s fine. It was worth it.  

They walk side-by-side in awkward silence. Katsuki clears his throat.

“You—” Katsuki starts then stops. He swallows thickly. “You did well today.” 

Huh? Izuku’s head whips toward him, blinking in surprise. The words settle over him and something warm rushes in his belly. 

“Uh, thanks,” Izuku says, playing with his gloved fingers nervously. 

More silence. Izuku’s face is flushed and fuck he has no idea why. It’s just a compliment, what the hell is he so worked up for? It’s not even a very good compliment either. But Katsuki doesn’t seem like the type to throw around praise he doesn’t mean so Izuku can’t help but feel… flattered? Which, ugh. Izuku shakes his head like he can shake off the feeling.  

Katsuki takes Izuku back to his tent where a hot bath is already waiting. Izuku is eager to have Katsuki out of his hair so he can enjoy it, but Katsuki reaches the tub first. He touches the rippling surface, glittering magic seeping from his fingertips and into the water. 

“That should help with the pain,” Katsuki tells him. He gives Izuku a long serious look and Izuku’s heart stammers. And then he gives a curt nod. “Goodnight.” 

Izuku nods back silently and Katsuki leaves him, the tent flap whipping in his wake. Izuku finds himself staring after the spot he disappeared, feeling a strange pang of—something. Something queasy and uncomfortable that he can’t quite name.

But that’s all quickly forgotten about when he remembers his books. 

Right! Izuku’s heart leaps with glee when he remembers his new treasure trove. He barely scratched the surface yesterday. At first, he resolves to bathe quickly, but the enchanted water really does help with the pain and he can’t help but linger. By the end of it, his soreness has gone from a full-body throbbing to a pleasant sense of fatigue. The warm, syrupy kind of sleepy that would normally have Izuku curling up in his nest and dozing in minutes. But not tonight. Tonight, he has a wealth of knowledge to delve into and he can’t wait. 

They fall into a routine after that. 

Mornings are for magic, afternoons are for combat, and evenings are for Izuku absorbing as much of the grimoires as he can. The text is dense and heavy, often with cramped handwriting that goes off on wild tangents, but Izuku loves it. The minds of such brilliant magicians are beyond fascinating. Some of them had masters who passed down their wisdom, others had covens, or occasionally one attended a magical school. Izuku writes down as much of the crucial information as he can, often bringing his notebooks with him to training sessions to write down Katsuki’s answers to his questions. 

It’s not always easy. Katsuki is a tough teacher. He’s rough, and rude, and Izuku finds themselves snapping at each other most days, but slowly it becomes… oddly comfortable. He knows Katsuki won’t lie to him at least. Doesn’t ever praise where it wasn’t earned, doesn’t sugar-coat the truth. Katsuki is pushy, Izuku always finds himself glad that he is. Each day he can run faster, shove Katsuki off quicker. Soon enough, Katsuki feels comfortable letting Izuku spar with his Fang-riders. 

“Whooo!” Kaminari and Kirishima cheer as Izuku manages to pin Jirou down. 

“Hell yeah!” Mina cries, punching the air. 

Even Jirou smiles up at Izuku. 

“Excellent job, your highness,” she says. 

Glistening with sweat and grinning, Izuku rolls off of Jirou. Everyone is cheering except Katsuki, but he still looks pleased. He stares Izuku down, carmine eyes deep with an animal hunger, and Izuku looks away quickly. 

“Wow!” Kirishima gushes, high-fiving Izuku as he comes over for his water satchel. “You’re a fast learner.” 

“You gotta be quick to pin Jirou down,” Kaminari adds. 

“Sugoi, sugoi!” Mina cries, jumping up and down and clapping. 

Izuku beams at them all, blushing faintly. 

“Th-thank you,” he stammers. “It helps that I have such good teachers.” 

Everyone coos and waves him off like he’s giving them too much credit. Izuku is surprised to find he genuinely enjoys the company of Katsuki’s Fang-riders. They’re all warm and jovial. Welcoming even. Kaminari ruffles his hair affectionately and Izuku giggles. 

“Oi,” Katsuki snaps. “You all done fuckin’ around or can we get back to training.” 

“Aww, come on, let him have a breather,” Kirishima says, with a sharp-toothed grin. “He’s earned his head pats.” 

He ruffles Izuku’s hair too and Katsuki’s scowl deepens. 

“Oh, quit being such a party-pooper,” Jirou says, elbowing Katsuki good-naturedly. “It won’t kill ya to tell him he did a good job.” 

Katsuki flinches from her with a truly nasty look on his face. 

“I tell Izuku he’s doing good all the time,” Katsuki mutters, cheeks a rosy color. 

Izuku has to bite down his giggle. Katsuki is kind of… cute like this. Izuku is surprised how much teasing the king can tolerate anyway. He’d sort of assumed Katsuki was the “mock me and I’ll have your head” type, but his Fang-riders seem to be the exception to that rule. 

“One more round before dinner?” Kirishima asks and Katsuki nods. “Alright who’s up?” 

Mina opens her mouth to chime in, but Katsuki cuts her off. 

“I’ll be his last round.” And he whips off his cape in one smooth motion.

There’s a chorus of oohs and tittering and Izuku flushes. The only drawback of these Fang-riders is that their teasing sometimes includes Izuku. He shoots them all admonishing looks, but Kirishima only jostles him playfully while the others giggle. 

“Alright, show us how it’s done!” Jirou shouts. 

“King, king, king, king!” Kaminari, Kirishima, and Mina chant. 

Izuku takes one last swig out of his water pouch and wipes his mouth. His eyes are green fire on Katsuki’s, a smile unconsciously tugging on his lips. 

“You ready?” Izuku asks. 

Predictably, Katsuki scoffs. 

“Never fuckin’ ask the enemy if they’re ready, moron,” Katsuki says. He lowers into a crouch, licking his lips in a way that’s unfairly sexy. “Just get over here.” 

And then they’re lunging at each other. 

It’s a fierce battle. They roll in the mud, snapping their fangs at one another and kicking and trading blows. Katsuki is strong and fast, but Izuku has memorized his attack patterns by now. He catches his right hook before twisting his arm and Katsuki yelps. 

“Oooh!” their crowd jeers. 

“Come on, King Bakugou!” 

“Way to go, Queen Izuku!” Mina cries. 

With a snarl, Katsuki flips them over and Izuku is pressed to the cold mud. Fuck, he should be used to Katsuki’s pheromones by now, but they still leave his mind reeling. Katsuki struggles to grasp his hands and Izuku remembers his training. He locks his powerful legs around Katsuki’s hips, intaking a sharp breath before twisting to the side violently— 

Bam! Now the king is on his back and Izuku is on top. Hands, hands, Izuku has to control Katsuki’s hands—somehow their fingers end up interlocked, pushing against one another as they struggle for control. Izuku leans forward and—

Ah. There’s a hardness between Katsuki’s legs. Fuck, Izuku focus. It’s not like it’s the first time the king’s been aroused during a spar. Izuku bares his teeth at Katsuki, growling low in his throat and Katsuki growls right back. And Izuku… likes that. He likes that Katsuki isn’t afraid to go all out with him, that he growls as mean as Kirishima or Kaminari. He doesn’t treat Izuku like he’s a frail little omega that can’t handle the intimidation tactic. Their hands still press against one another, caught in a total dead-lock. 

“C’mon,” Katsuki grouses under his breath. “C’mon Izuku, you can get me.” 

Something about the tension between them: their labored breathing mixing, their crotches aligned, their fingers entwined so intimately—it’s both arousing as it is exhilarating. Izuku’s cunt throbs with his heartbeat, bite burning under his collar.

Get alpha, his omega croons. Mine, my alpha. 

Stop, focus! Izuku grits his teeth as he struggles against Katsuki. He’s so close, so fucking close—

And then all at once, the strength in his arms gives out. Katsuki surges upward, rolling them into the mud and pinning Izuku effortlessly. 

“Awww,” Mina and Jirou coo. 

“Hell yeah, King Bakugou!” Kirishima hoots. 

“You’ll get him next time, Queen Izuku!” Kaminari shouts. 

Izuku pants heavily as he gazes up at Katsuki. His blond spikes hang down as he hovers above him, sweat glittering his skin and determination lighting up his eyes. He’s so breathtakingly handsome that Izuku can’t help but stare at him, open-mouthed and in awe. 

Katsuki nods once. “Good, Deku. You’re close.” 

And then Katsuki gets up and the moment is broken. He offers Izuku a hand and hauls him up. Strangely dizzy, Izuku finds his step wobbly and stumbles forward. A broad, warm palm steadies him. 

“Whoa,” Katsuki says, deep with concern. “You alright?” 

Izuku’s head is spinning, but he nods anyway. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m—” 

He looks up and they’re nose to nose. So close that Katsuki’s breath puffs over Izuku’s cheek. 

Oh. 

Arousal curls low in Izuku’s gut. 

“—Good,” Izuku chokes out. Crimson eyes meet emerald and for a brief second it’s just him, the king, and the rhythm of their breathing. A warm hand on Izuku’s bicep, another on the small of his waist. 

Katsuki’s eyes go dark, gaze flicking to his lips. 

“Oi, you two were amazing!” Kaminari cries, throwing his arms around them and nuzzling in to scent them in the way packs are prone to do. Izuku jolts, gaze snapping over to him and Katsuki growls. 

“Get off of me,” he snaps, even as he makes no move to push him away. Izuku wiggles out of the embrace, backing off bashfully. 

“I—I should bathe,” Izuku stammers out. He has to get out of here. That was too close. Another second longer and Izuku might have considered—no, no he never. He couldn’t possibly—

“Oi!” Kirishima calls after him. “You’re joining us for dinner right?” 

“O-oh,” Izuku stammers. 

That’s another recent development. Despite Izuku’s desire to spend his evenings studying, Kirishima keeps insisting they all have dinner together. Something about tribe unity and bonding. Izuku keeps finding excuses to dodge it, but he’s so flustered he ends up blurting out—

“Of course!” he chirps, an octave higher than usual. Fuck, what the hell has he just agreed to? “Lemme just—I have to get clean and then I’ll—” 

“Cool!” Kirishima says, grinning as he gives him a big thumbs up. “See you in the command tent in a bit, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Izuku says, strained. Fuck, okay it’s fine. It’s just one dinner. Why does he feel like it won’t be fine? He tries to shake himself out of it as he flees to his tent to change. 

Izuku seriously regrets this. 

“Whooooaa there’s the man of the hour!” Kaminari shouts as soon as Izuku slides through the command tent’s entrance. 

“Oh my gods!” Mina squeals. She almost spills her wine as she leaps up to greet him. “You really made it!” 

“It’s so good to see you, your highness,” Kirishima says, pumping his fist. 

Izuku smiles at them warmly, already strategizing his exit plan. Mina throws her arms around him, scenting him gently like he’s pack. Which—is oddly nice. Momentarily, Izuku relaxes with it. Her strawberry scent envelops him and… damn. Is this always what having a pack is like? Izuku never joined one back in his village. He’d always been planning on making his escape once he learned the basics of magic. He loves his village, truly, but he knew he didn’t belong there. Not permanently anyway. But being scented feels so good. Maybe he’s made a mistake avoiding it for so many years. 

“Come sit!” Mina ushers him toward the enchanted fire at the center of the tent. Already there are piles of food loaded onto the tables surrounding the blaze. Kirishima pats the ground beside him, and Mina snuggles in close, cooing as he scents her gently. 

They’re so comfortable with each other, Izuku thinks as he gazes at everyone. Jirou and Kaminari are cuddling on the opposite side of the fire. Sero sits in Sato’s lap as Sato hand feeds him bites of the cheese platter. Kirishima and Mina are nuzzling noses. Only Katsuki sits by himself, at the head of the table and looking somehow even more on edge than usual. 

“Here.”

Kirishima passes him a goblet of wine that Izuku takes without thinking. At his toothy grin, Izuku smiles, but he doubts it reaches his eyes. He’s never had wine before. It was a luxury he couldn’t afford back at home. All his money was stowed away saving up for a grimoire or to bribe the next travelling magician to teach him. He couldn’t afford to throw his extra coin away on temporary stress relief. He sips the drink experimentally and fights not to cringe at its tartness. 

“It’s—” He clears his throat. “Good. Really good.” 

Kirishima’s smile is so radiant that Izuku feels compelled to take another sip, longer this time. And… maybe it’s not as bad as it was on the first go around. The flavors are rich and earthy, grounding in a way Izuku didn’t expect. He finds himself taking another swallow just to enjoy it. 

“I’m so glad you decided to join us,” Kaminari says, grinning over the cackling flames as he keeps one arm around Jirou. The beta woman smiles up at him dreamily. 

“Katsuki here hasn’t stopped talking about you,” Mina teases, nudging Izuku with her elbow. Katsuki hisses at her. 

“Shut up,” the king snarls. “I told you fucks to be on your best behavior.” 

There’s a round of titters and Izuku flushes all the way to his ears. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to be back in his tent curled up with a grimoire right about now. No one here seems to have caught on that he and Katsuki aren’t mates in the traditional sense. They tease and prod at them as if they’re—they were—fuck, Izuku can’t even think it. Kirishima takes a healthy swig of his drink before setting it down with an ‘ah’ sound. 

“We really are happy you’re here,” Kirishima says, flashing him a shark-toothed grin. “We’ve been wanting to get to know the omega that finally caught Katsuki’s eye.” 

Everyone makes sounds of agreement and Izuku thinks he might overheat with his blush. He buys himself time to respond by taking another swallow of his wine. 

“There’s not much to know,” Izuku admits lowly. “I’m just a simple apothecary.” 

“An apothecary with one hell of a swing!” Kirishima cries, and there’s a round of cheers. Everyone but Katsuki lifts their goblets to tink against one another before drinking down greedily. 

“There has to be more though,” Mina says, once the chatter has died down. She bats her eyelashes at him imploringly. “The king says you’re a genius!” 

Izuku chokes, violet wine gushing out his mouth. What? 

“I—I don’t know what you—” he stammers, giving Katsuki a quick glance. The king stares at him over his goblet, eyes unreadable. “I don’t know why he’d say that, but I assure you—” 

“Don’t be so modest,” Kaminari says, with a wave of his hand. “We brought back all those books you wrote. You have to be pretty friggin smart to write all that stuff down.” 

There are several sounds of agreement. Even Sero nods as Sato smears cheese onto a cracker for him. 

“It’s more than writing shit down.”

Everyone freezes at the king’s voice. It’s low and gravelly, and Izuku’s eyes are drawn toward him against his will. 

“He was doin’ his own research,” Katsuki continues, tapping on the lip of his glass. He licks his lips. “Observing. Doing his own experiments. Real smart shit in there.” 

Izuku goes so crimson he could blend right in with Katsuki’s cape. He hides himself in one hand, shaking his head before it clicks. 

“You read them?” he demands, skewering the king with his glower. Everyone hoots and hollers like it’s the most hilarious thing that’s ever been said. Katsuki grimaces. 

“So what?” he demands. “S’ how I knew they were important.” 

Izuku makes a mean face, but he doesn’t truly feel the anger. Instead, there’s a wild sense of curiosity. No one has ever taken any interest in his research before. Even his own mother had only been humoring him when he’d read off his notes. Did Katsuki really think he was a genius? It’s almost flattering. He finishes off his wine and Kirishima promptly refills his cup. 

“His highness says you took even more notes than he did,” Kirishima says, chuckling. “And he filled three whole books!” 

That makes Izuku peek at Katsuki curiously. But of course the king has his own grimoire. Every magician worth their salt needed one. Suddenly, Izuku is itching to get his hands on it. It’s only fair, right? Katsuki had read his grimoires after all. 

“Really?” Izuku asks. 

“The king is the smartest man I know!” Kirishima boasts, chest puffing up in pride. “He cleared his chakras by the age of fifteen. Became a full fledged magician before he was twenty!” 

Izuku fights not to choke. So young. Wait, how old is the king anyway? He couldn’t be much older than Izuku, right? He sends the king another look, examining him critically, and Katsuki’s eye twitches as he glowers at Kirishima. 

“I had to challenge the old hag for the throne as soon as possible,” Katsuki says dismissively. “Course I mastered magic in record time.” 

Ah. So even Katsuki’s record time still took him years. Izuku’s heart sinks. That’s a long time to be trapped as the king’s omega, but—fiery determination flares in Izuku’s gut. If the king could do it quickly, then so will Izuku. He snatches up a leg of chicken and digs in greedily. He’ll need his strength for his studies later. 

The night passes with amiable chatter. Kirishima shares war stories, Sero provides updates about Izuku’s village, Jirou plays lute and sings for them all. Mina dances along in the background with sparkling magic swirling around her limbs and Izuku is so tipsy at this point that he finds himself laughing and clapping along with everyone. Before he even knows what’s happening, somehow Izuku finds himself having…. fun. 

“You should have seen him trying to transform when we were younger,” Kaminari says, eyes bright with mirth. “Kept getting stuck in one form or another. One time he got stuck with a dragon head for a full week!” 

Everyone bursts into uproarious laughter. Kirishima sputters, clapping his thigh as he wheezes and Katsuki growls low in his throat. 

“I was nine,” he protests, fingers white as he squeezes his goblet. 

“He totally scared off his betrothed," Sero adds, grinning wildly. “He pouted in his den about it for a week!” 

Izuku is teary eyed as he giggles, shooting the king a little glance. He’s tipsy enough to picture it: a tiny, pouty Katsuki angry at the world. Godstars, he must have been adorable. 

“Betrothed?” Izuku can’t help repeating. He looks around the room. “At nine?” 

Everyone nods sagely. 

“The Queen dowager was hoping to avoid the traditional raiding party,” Kirishima explains. “Thought she could make his highness an advantageous match in the way other kingdoms do.” He shakes his head like it’s a shame. “But that backfired.” 

“Poor bastard still pisses his pants whenever we come knocking,” Sero cackles. 

Katsuki hums a sour note. 

“I would never have married him,” he says flatly. “He wouldn’t have been able to complete the mating duel anyway.” 

There’s the sound of consensus and Izuku’s heart throbs in his chest. If Katsuki had married his original betrothed then his village would have been spared. Izuku would be back at home in his little apothecary shack, brewing medicines and taking notes. His simple life. His humble village. 

But the pang of homesickness never comes. Instead, Izuku feels a strange sense of relief that Katsuki’s intended was a coward. He might never have had the opportunity to learn magic if he stayed there, scraping together coins in the hopes a magician or grimoire just stumbled upon his little village. Izuku frowns at the thought. How many years would he have had to wait if not for Katsuki? 

My alpha, his inner omega croons and ugh stop that. Izuku shakes his head like the motion will banish the thoughts. 

“He was always going through engagements,” Jirou says, waving her hand dismissively. “One time, he broke it off because his intended couldn’t handle spicy food.” 

Katsuki slams his goblet down, leaning over the table as he sneers at her. 

“He was from the kingdom of spices,” he snaps, and there’s a round of merry laughter. “How the fuck was I supposed to marry someone so pathetic?” 

Izuku’s giggling is shrill with his intoxication. His toes curl in his boots. 

But he chose me, he thinks, momentarily awestruck. 

“You have no idea how relieved we were when he chose you,” Kaminari says, arm still slung around Jirou as he shakes his head. 

Ah. Aha. Izuku busies himself with his goblet of wine and there are several sounds of agreement. 

“We’ve been on the road searching for two years now,” Mina bemoans and Izuku chokes. 

“Two—” he stammers. Wine dribbles down his chin as he looks at the king incredulously. “Two years?” 

“I know right?” Sero says, shaking his head like it’s a shame. “Fuckin’ picky ass.” 

Glasses are lifted skyward as the Fang-riders toast to that. Izuku stares at the king in amazement. 

And he chose me, he thinks again, pleasure curling low in his gut. When he glances at the king, he finds Katsuki staring right back, eyes blazing with something Izuku can’t quite name. 

Oh. Izuku’s breath stutters as he inhales. He feels the eye contact like a physical touch, like a warm buzz all over his body. Katsuki looks away first, gaze dipping to his goblet of wine. 

“I see,” Izuku says, softly. 

Eventually the energy begins to wind down.  Manservants come and whisk away their leftovers, draping blankets over Mina and Sato, who have already dozed off. When Kirishima and Kaminari start arranging cushions to sleep upon, Katsuki stands. 

“Izuku,” he says, in his deep rumble, and the omega’s gaze jumps to him. “Come. I’ll guide you back to your tent.” 

Right. Fuck, it’s so late. Izuku staggers as he gets to his feet and immediately realizes he’s gotten too drunk to get any studying done. Katsuki offers him his arm and Izuku takes it as they glide out of the tent. 

The cold is sharp in contrast to the warm cocoon of the tent. Izuku finds himself leaning into Katsuki’s body heat unconsciously and it’s…. Nice. Izuku has always liked the king’s scent. Smoke and cinnamon and caramel. Izuku hopes he’s not noticeably inhaling just a bit deeper as they wind through the labyrinth of tents. 

“Your friends are nice,” Izuku offers, just to escape the suffocating silence. 

Katsuki tches. 

“They’re fucking annoying, you can say it,” he says, and Izuku finds himself grinning. 

“Nah, I like them.”  

Izuku is half frozen by the time they finally make it to Izuku’s tent. Rubbing his arms for warmth, he watches Katsuki trace runes into the air as he feeds more magic to Izuku’s enchanted fire. When he’s done, he turns to Izuku. His gaze is almost soft.  

“Goodnight,” he says, quietly. 

“Goodnight,” Izuku echos. His heartstrings are straining. Something is swelling inside him, insistent and uncomfortable and before Izuku knows what he’s doing he’s blurting out. “Why’d you do it?” 

Katsuki freezes halfway toward the door. It’s so quiet Izuku can hear the smack of Katsuki’s lips as he considers what to say next. 

“Do what?” he gruffs. 

“Bite me,” Izuku explains, pulse drumming in his ears. “Choose me.” 

Katsuki turns toward him, eyes dark and serious. He’s wine-flushed and bare chested and so fucking gorgeous it’s like thorns have invaded Izuku’s throat. 

“Because I was in awe of you,” Katsuki answers in a low rumble. 

Izuku’s eyes widen, breath hitching. 

“Oh.” The sound stammers out of him and Katsuki smirks. He takes a step toward Izuku and the scent of caramel and cinnamon smoke washes over him, possessive and sweetly suffocating. 

“Not everyone would challenge a barbarian king for a pup that wasn’t theirs,” Katsuki continues. They’re only about a foot apart when he shrugs one shoulder. “Figured it would make you a compassionate, powerful queen.” 

Izuku’s head is spinning. Godstars, what a wonderful scent. What a gorgeous, perfect alpha. Izuku is too tipsy to even consider fighting the feelings now, he just has to submit to them. Beautiful, powerful, mysterious Katsuki. The man who kidnapped him, the man who’s given him his dreams, the man who claimed him and changed his life forever. Emerald eyes flicker over Katsuki’s face as he leans in a touch closer. Is it—is he really—?

But then Katsuki tilts his head to the side, sweeping past Izuku’s cheek. His lips hover over the shell of Izuku’s ear. 

“And I was right,” Katsuki murmurs. 

And then all at once he’s gone. Cape dancing behind him as he exits the tent. Izuku exhales and suddenly he’s boneless, knees wobbling as he falls to the floor. He presses a hand over his racing heart. What the fuck? What the fuck was that? 

“I’m drunk,” Izuku tells himself. He smacks his face to get himself back in line. Drunk, right. That’s why—that’s why he wanted—

Izuku resolves not to think about it.