Here Comes Trouble.

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/27838237.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero
Academia
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Dabi, Bakugou Katsuki/Todoroki Shouto (Situational)
Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Dabi (My Hero Academia),
Todoroki Touya, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Midoriya Izuku
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega
Dynamics, Mpreg, Omega Bakugou Katsuki, Alpha Todoroki Shouto,
Alpha Dabi (My Hero Academia), Fluff and Angst, Bakugou Katsuki &
Todoroki Shouto Friendship, Bakugou and Todoroki Friendship is Giving
Me Life, They are not so platonic, Everything is Beautiful and
Everything Hurts
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Heirs to the Family
Stats: Published: 2020-12-02 Updated: 2024-03-03 Words: 49,687 Chapters:
14/?
 Here Comes Trouble.
by Avidegesa

Summary

Bakugou messed up some things, and sought Shouto's help to save himself. What's supposed
to be an easy way-out plan, ended up to be far more complicated than they would have
expected.

Or: Bakugou's an ex lover of yakuza heir, pregnant and on the run. Shouto's still sweet and
dense, so he agreed (or was rather forced) to help Bakugou disappear when needed, and now
they're about to build a (hopefully) functional family together while bickering like an old
married couple.

{ Sequel to: "The sinners crawl" }

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬
 Beginning
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Bakugou did not call Shouto after all.

Not because he was above it all, and telling his best friend that he got knocked down by his
older brother would derogatory him in any way - there was nothing offensive in being
pregnant (especially to the Omegas, as they took great pride in their offsprings), even if the
sire was someone he no longer had any ties with. Children outside of the bond of mates were
not so out of the ordinary these days anyway.

The fact that he was additionally running away from his ex lover may have been galling, but
he could move past it if needed, pride long forgotten... Those tiny beings growing up inside
his belly had that effect on him, affecting him more severely than he would like to let on (and
it hadn’t honestly bothered him as much as it should, and wasn’t that bad?).

The true problem laid elsewhere and was much simpler than Bakugou’s fragile pride or
sudden hesitation getting in the way…

Shouto.

Shouto was his fucking problem.

Shouto and his surprisingly impolite side, without fail driving Bakugou mad.

He wasn’t even cheeky - just fucking rude, and Bakugou knew for damn sure that bastard
would hang up on him the very same moment he had brought up why was he calling him in
the first place. They were friends (or not, as there was no tangible proof confirming that bold
theory and Bakugou had already crossed Shouto out of his non-existent mental friends’ list)
yet he would definitely ghost him if only given the chance, and so had Bakugou decided to
skip past the waste of his effort and time, getting ahead of things and going straight to
Shouto’s building complex.

Only to end up with a door slammed in his face.

“Stop acting like a fucking brat and let me in, you damn baby!”

If being petty was a family brand for Todorokis, then being obnoxious would be just Shouto,
especially as he would always put on an unnecessary fight with Bakugou instead of them
handling the matter as adults would, with solemnity, saving the dignity of both of them.
“I don’t want to.”

But nooo, of course not, Shouto couldn’t step aside even for once. He might have been a half-
ass for the most part of his miserable life, but he would never skip out on their little
squabbles, as if he had to prove himself worthy of Bakugou’s annoyance.

And so were they scuffling at the door like a couple of five-year-olds, trying to push it one
way or another, Shouto not budging even a bit as Bakugou clung to the mahogany wood with
his whole body, struggling to gain some leverage with his extra bodyweight. Pretty face his
ass, the guy was a bloody nuisance… but Bakugou was the sneaky one here, and playing
Shouto was a damn piece of cake. “Oi, stop that or you’re gonna hurt the kids.”

“You’re the only kid here,” Shouto muttered, yet still hesitated for a split of second. Which
finally allowed Bakugou to turn the tide to his site, shove Shouto aside and barge into his
house like he owned the place.

He did not, and would gladly burn that hideous thing down to the ground (hopefully with its
tasteless owner still inside) if not for a fact that he kinda needed to get into his good graces
now.

“Did you get fat?” Shouto still had the audacity to ask, eyeing him suspiciously and Bakugou
realised that maybe he didn’t need him that much after all.

“Do you want to die?” Bakugou asked instead, flatly.

“I’m just trying to make a conversation.”

“Screw your small talk. Who in the world asks people if they got fat - and I fucking did not -
while trying to be casual?”

“But Bakugou... You’re huge.”

And that’s it - his patience was limited enough as it was - he didn’t need any extra help to
reach its ends.

“I’m pregnant, you half of a brain.”

If he was not being pissed he would probably find it funny, watching as Shouto came to halt
in an abrupt surprise. “Oh,” was all he mustered, taking a good while for the words to sink in
properly, before frowning; and wasn’t that just as hilarious as it was irritating? “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Bakugou mocked moving forward at the same time Shouto moved closer to the
door, gripping its jamb like he had already regretted letting him in. “So the reason I’m here
—”

“You didn’t call me,” Shouto interrupted, his glare turning into something pointed rather
quickly, “nor did you pick up when I did.”

“Yeah, was kinda busy—”

“You were ignoring me for over a year—”

“Now, don’t be a crybaby.”

If anything, Shouto was similarly irked.

“A year,” he repeated with emphasis. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

There was something appealing about playing ignorant. Maybe the fact that it affected
Shouto more than the actual screaming match would, as he furrowed his brow, watching him
ominously. “I’m kindly asking you to leave.”

“And I fucking refuse.”

“Rude...”

He was, sue him. “Now that you got all of that off your chest—

“Prick.”

“—could we talk about more urgent business?”

Bakugou was rushing things, but who could have blamed him? He was not supposed to be
here in the first place; escaping from the one knowing you the best meant avoiding an
obvious location at last. And Shouto’s house was just that - Bakugou didn’t care much about
maintaining other relationships, considering it a bother, and so in the end he had no one but
Shouto to rely on - the very first guess coming to mind.

Dabi might not be looking out for him yet, thinking it normal for Bakugou to mope around
for a while and come back when he’s done with it or simply bored, but if he would accidently
get spotted somewhere by one of Touya’s men (at there were a lot of them all around the
city), with a bump instead of his normally flat belly… it would be a game over.

But he still got a chance now. All he had to do was to disappear before the inevitable
happened, and Shouto, even if he hadn’t known it yet, was his own golden ticket to freedom.
While dealing with the yakuza, paradoxically, it was only yakuza who could help you, and
Bakugou decided he won’t feel bad about playing dirty.

“Dabi and I broke up,” Bakugou announced, testing the sentence out on his tongue, “for good
this time.”

The doubtful stare he got back in response was mostly deserved, given he may have said the
same thing at least thrice by now. “I heard nothing about it and I talked with Touya only a
few days ago.”

Shit, so they stayed in touch...

“In fact, I didn’t hear a thing about it too,” Shouto added casually, pointing at his stomach
with mild curiosity.

“I dumped him five months ago,” Bakugou trailed off, purposely avoiding Shouto’s searching
gaze. “Then, we met up two months later, fucked and… it is bad.”

“Define ‘bad’, Bakugou.”

“Like… ‘I need your assistance with something or shit gonna go down’ kind of bad. Your
family - you know, those psychos running around killing people - don’t particularly like to let
anyone retire untimely. And I kinda carry in me the next generation of them.”

He was being vague on purpose, carefully testing his ground. Shouto might be different from
the rest of his family, from the beginning opposing their way of living and joining the law
enforcement to help the poorest, but at the same time, there was no doubt he would abandon
any virtues straight away for those whom his loyalty laid with. And for now, if it were not be
his father (some grudges lasted longer than the rest), then it would definitely be his siblings,
Touya included.

But at the moment, Shouto appeared to be mostly uncertain if anything, clearly thinking it
over his head and coming up with nothing but further questions only, before something
clicked and his eyes widened a fraction. Then, he turned back to Bakugou quite frantically,
suddenly alarmed. “No…”

“Yes,” Bakugou reassured with a broken smile.

“No.”

“Yes—”

“No way in hell,” Shouto rejected at once, gripping the door hard enough for his knuckles to
turn out white, before making his mind and with a sigh opening it wider. “If you go away
now I’ll pretend you haven’t been here in the first place.”

Of fucking course he would try to get rid of him. “You know it does not work like that,
asshole.”

“I’m not an asshole, Bakugou. I’m just not suicidal,” he pointed out. “Because that’s what
you're asking of me - to cross Touya and hide you away for a time, simply because the two of
you refuse to talk to each other—”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Bakugou cut in and Shouto’s shoulders relaxed visibly, before tensing
again as he continued. “I don’t need you to hide me away for ‘some time’. I need you to do it
permanently.”

“What—”

“Call your father, Shouto. We have a happy announcement to make.”

Why had Shouto agreed to his insane demand was beyond Bakugou, but he would not mess it
up by asking unnecessary questions and pushing when not needed, rather content with the
current turn of things.

Still, it was crucial for Shouto to act more like... not himself and not sabotage them first thing
upon Enji’s arrival, so he had to make sure they were fine. Not particularly blurt, “Are you
sure?”

“I don’t get it,” Shouto admitted, and maybe Bakugou was right by asking. “If I don’t love
you then why would I make you pregnant?” he reasoned and Bakugou almost facepalmed.

Oh god, he would never worry about him again.

“Because people fuck for less reasons, you virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin, Bakugou,” Shouto said, eyes squinting at him as if he had still considered
throwing him out despite the phone call he had already made. “It just sounds… weird. And
fake. Enji won’t believe I did something like that.”

Of course he would not if Shouto had spoken to him so uncertainly. It sounded almost as if
Bakugou had forced him to say it, and Enji wasn’t his biggest fan to begin with. He would
probably instantly assume Shouto felt compelled to do it, or even worse, Bakugou threatened
him, and the last thing that he needed right now was a bullet to his head for mistreating a
favourite son of the mob. Sadly, he had not much of a choice but to risk it. “Just let me handle
it and everything will work out just fine.”

“Like it had worked out last time, so now you’re here, pregnant and on the run? Sure thing
Bakugou, I’m so much calmer now.”

“Stop being a smartass and shut it,” he barked viciously, baring his teeth, far too done with
this whole situation already to have to deal with Shouto too.

It was easier to not acknowledge that it would be his life from now on, if everything went just
as planned.

To say Enji was unimpressed would be an understatement.

One might have thought a father would be more concerned about his son's involvement in
something not only potentially dangerous, but probably deadly, yet it seemed not to be
affecting Enji one bit, as he had listened to their made-up story with nothing but an evident
boredom. Being so indifferent would make sense only if he had already suspected something
like this would happen at one point, but there was no way anyone could have predicted there
would be a day when Bakugou would be proclaiming he was carrying Shouto’s spawns
within; so assuming Enji was just being a dick had to do.

Especially, as in the end he had come up with nothing but a simple, “That’s it?”

“What? Had I not entertained you enough?” Bakugou followed suit.

Ready to start a fight Enji had gladly provided him with, “As expected, our sense of humor is
nothing alike - my sons are about to shed blood because of a cunt. Should it amuse me,
Omega?”

“What did you just say?”

“Was it too hard to understand for someone like you?”

Oh, it was not and would cost Enji’s his teeth if not for Shouto interference.

The story Bakugou came up with may have aroused some controversy yet had given Enji no
right to shame him basing on his second gender. It takes two to tango - if it was not a sham
and Shouto was truly the father, he would have done exactly the same to be blamed for as
Bakugou did. It was a fucking biology Enji seemed to be forgetting, stucked in his outdated
Alpha-Supremacy-Bullshit and Bakugou was having none of it, ready to teach an old man
some new lesson when a hand had landed on his shoulder, stopping him before he could.

“I would appreciate it if you restrain from insulting Bakugou, Dad,” Shouto asked, tightening
his grip on Bakugou as if, on contrary to his words, he was considering him to be the one
who in truth needed to be restrained. “Otherwise, I’m gonna be forced to consider it
offending not only to him, but to myself, as well as to our future children, and ask you to
leave. Immediately. Thereby, naturally, resigning from your help and seeking it elsewhere.”

Bakugou would have smacked him upside the head for being stupid and testing their luck,
unnecessary daring Enji to call his bluff (and they were the ones asking for his help in the
first place, weren’t they?) if it had not flattered him like it did. Bakugou didn’t need people
standing up for him in general, but it was still nice to know someone would eventually, if not
for his sake then his pups at least, and fine, maybe he had a thing for Alphas that didn’t give a
shit that they were ones.

Besides, if Enji’s cry was anything to go by, he was quite devastated with this suggestion
itself, so they were all good.

“Shouto!!! I was just making sure you were not deceived—”

“I created a miracle and you were nothing but rude about it.”

“Rude? That’s not the—”

“I’m not sure if I’m gonna let you visit them after they’re born. Bakugou would be probably
against it and I respect—”

“NO! I want to see them at least once every second month.”

“No way in hell!” Bakugou refused at once, feeling fucking great. “Nothing’s gonna force me
to see your face that often.”

“Once every five months,” Shouto suggested after a moment of thinking, deaf (and pretty
much blind) to Bakugou’s loud and clear protest. “It’s fair this way.”

Who in the world had decided Enji had any right to not only meet, but also spend time with,
his kids was hard to comprehend, and Bakugou definitely didn’t want to, turning his back to
Enji and challenging Shouto to a glaring contest, with full ferocity containing his great
displeasure. He’s a bloody lunatic, who fucked up not one but four of his children, his eyes
hopefully screamed, in response receiving nothing but calm, He did quite well with the last
one, as if anyone would truly believe Shouto wasn’t just as messed up as the rest of them.
Probably even more, given his poor fashion sense. Bakugou, we need him.

“Fine, whatever.”

“Excellent,” Enji exclaimed happily, before toning himself down shortly after. Back to
business then, “Now that we have sorted that out, let's discuss more mundane affair”

It was going surprisingly easy. Almost painless for a time being, with Enji’s monotonous
explanation of how he’s going to move them to a safe place, away from prying eyes and
Dabi’s reach. That he has a nice summer house no one knows about and they would not have
to even leave the city because apparently ‘the darkest place is under the candlestick’ and how
to argue with that. Or how they would still have to disguise themselves just to be sure, and
that he expect them to marry as soon as possible, and maybe even allow him to pick up the
names—

“Hold—the fuck—up.”

Enji did, giving him a rather flat stare. “Yes?”

“The marriage thing— Who— Why would I marry him?” Bakugou asked vividly, like they
were not so very in love, with kids on the way; giving no flying fuck about the appearances
and most likely sabotaging them better than Shouto ever could.

“Because I still have the last word in this, and I need reassurance,” Enji said with a smile
sending shivers down Bakugou’s spine. “You were no Paramour - even without seeing an
Asphodelus flower on your lower back, everybody knew who you belonged to. Touya made
sure of that, keeping you by his side wherever he went. It could probably be considered as a
good thing back then, as it kept you safe, buf for us now, it’s just a burden - the whole family
knows you, and so, sooner or later, someone will definitely notice your absence.

The questions will be asked; it’s unavoidable. It may cost Touya his reputation, but that’s
irrelevant compared to the risk of putting his position at stake. If that does happen, he would
be forced to pursue you with all his might. But you already know that, don’t you, Dear
Omega? That the tattoos carved into your flesh are the death sentence not only for you, but
also those you associate yourself with during that time.”
 “We’re getting off topic,” Shouto reminded sharply, and Bakugou knew he understood that
too.

Letting him into his apartment hours ago meant trouble. Letting him into his life… would
bring a disaster.

“Yes, yes. So I just wanted to make sure you won’t disappear on another one of my sons
again. Marriage, then... Any objections?”

Bakugou had a lot of them. Primarily, they were not living in the Middle Ages - marriage was
not necessary for people to be bound together permanently; one bite on the nape at the right
time worked just as good, both personally as legally. Then again, he could not really bring
that up without digging his own grave first. Enji would demand for them to mate then
instead, and that’s a big no-no he could not really explain aloud. Not without revealing the
babies inside him were another Alpha’s, not Shouto’s own, and so him biting into Bakugou’s
neck could have ended up in him miscarrying. Or worse, going catatonic if his body felt like
it.

“No, Dad.”

“Fucking none.”

Something about Enji’s smirk told him everything he needed to know. So confident and full
of himself… Knowing. Like he had them exactly where he wanted them.

And found it fucking hilarious.

“Wonderful. Let’s move then.”

Chapter End Notes

The next chapter: Interrogation. (because Shouto has just as many questions as you
guys probably do)

I’m trying to improve my writing, so those chapters will be short and (hopefully)
easygoing. Not sure how many of them would be there just yet, but I’ll try my best to
publish more often as the ‘required’ length I aim for is much shorter in it.
*Also, I should probably mention TodoBaku will be mostly platonic here, and there will
be some TodoMido later on*

Any thoughts? Advices? Maybe something sounds off?

Any feedback about this fic is highly appreciated ^^
 Interrogation
Chapter Notes

This chapter works as a perfect reflection of this whole year: it sucks and there's nothing
you can do about it. Not even enjoy it XD
Merry Christmas & Happy New Year everyone ~!~

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Everything was going smoothly.

A little too smoothly to be honest, as for whatever reason Enji restrained from questioning
them further, convinced enough or simply not caring at all; already processing with the
matter at hand. About an hour ago leaving the house to ‘handle things’, yet not until telling
them to behave, sit tight and wait for his return. Acting like a role model parent on his way to
clean up the mess made by his foolish children, enjoying it way too much, and for once
having any right to.

Which seemed to annoy Bakugou more than it did Shouto, as he only shrugged clearly
unbothered, advising: “The sooner you get used to it, the better.”

And did he really have to? Because he definitely didn’t want to, far more comfortable with
pissing Enji off. They always did it together with Touya; toying with the old man until he
couldn't take it anymore, storming off. It was fun, and what Bakugou grew familiar with,
already missing the old times, and fuck it— there’s no turning back.

He could be fucking polite if needed.

“Would he really be visiting us that often?” Bakugou asked, trailing after Shouto to the
bedroom. “He was a shitty father. Won’t be a better grandpa either.”

It was bugging him. He could be polite later.

“I don’t know, Bakugou,” Shouto answered absently, taking the suitcase out of the closet.
Then, he pondered about it for a while, before adding, “He may pop by a few times before he
gets bored. After that, he will probably leave us alone for good.”

And wasn’t that great? The best news of the month, Bakugou decided, throwing himself on
the bed while Shouto rummaged through his wardrobe, apparently trying to find the most
hideous sets of clothes in his possession. Contemplating between the Ugly Hazel Pants
numero uno and the other Even Uglier Nut Brown one. Facing the genuine dilemma before
determining both of them were crucial for his non-existent fashion sense, nodding to himself
and packing two of them up.
Only for Bakugou to get rid of them as soon as Shouto covered them up by adding some
more shirts on the top, so he would not be exposed doing so right away. Tossing each pair to
the farthest corner of the room while Candy Cane remained distracted, about to pass him
another dreadful attire Bakugou would have to dispose of at once if not desiring to see it for
the rest of their shared lives.

Being detected? Given he would be forced to look at Shouto every single day starting from
now on, the least of his worries. He could walk around naked for all he cared; mankind
would thank him double for it.

Still, he flinched involuntarily when the man addressed him to say something, sure he got
caught red-handed, before comprehending the meaning of his words.

“What do you mean?”

“What can I mean? I asked why did you escape,” Shouto repeated patiently, unfazed. “I
mean, I get it, but not really. Like, it doesn’t make any sense, you know,” he carried on, more
bothered with scrutinizing the jacket in his hand than Bakugou scowling behind his back.
“You were in love with my brother, and you clearly love him still, but you’d dumped him.
You didn’t mind him being a yakuza when you met him, or throughout the years of the
relationship, but you’re suddenly concerned now. You wanted kids, but once you actually got
pregnant, you ran away,” he pointed out mercilessly, without turning around avoiding the
pillow aiming at his head, and Bakugou might have hated him a little. “You’re unreasonable.”

He was definitely not, but felt quite offended by the accusation. “Is this another of your small
talk? Because I’m abruptly reminded why did I not return your calls.”

It was almost as if he had slapped him; Shouto head jerking up to give him that nasty look. “I
refuse to torment myself because you always had to be snarky. It’s about my future too, you
know - I want us to be able to have a normal conversation with each other; like people tend to
do. Or is it too much to ask for you, Bakugou?”

So fussy. And needy. That’s why Bakugou didn’t like chatting. Or people in general.

But Shouto… was mostly bearable. Easy to tolerate as long as not crossed or encouraged to
act like an asshole. A lesser evil, he was willing to put up with if necessary.

Yet, no one said he had to be happy about it. “Whatever. You want to talk? We can talk!” he
barked, making himself comfortable by the bed frame. “Curious why I left? Because I know
what happened in your childhood. I know about the accident, Shouto.”

It was comical to watch - Shouto’s mouth falling open only to close back a moment later,
repeated once, then twice, before he snapped out of this and his face darkened all of sudden.

“Touya told you?”

“Of course he did.”

Just thinking about it made the chills run down Bakugou’s spine. The accident from almost
seventeen years ago, never to be mentioned by the media and efficiently muted down by the
rest. The story of a little boy, left behind to die like he was nothing but a liability. Having no
one but himself to rely on; with his tiny shaky hands, gradually turning steady, proving his
worth of living. By the dawn returning home, drenched in blood, but even so, welcomed by
nothing but his father's cold indifference. Instantly learning his lesson and holding it close to
heart even still.

“Back then he was abducted and your Father didn’t lift a finger to bring him back.” There
were no negotiations as Enji did not even show up at the meeting. Not because he was sure
they wouldn’t dare to hurt a yakuza’s heir, and decided to call their bluff. No, they would kill
him, and he knew it. He just didn’t care. “Touya despised him even since, but there are
things… He just took after him.”

Shouto was frowning by now, obviously lost in thoughts and conflicted about what to say
next. Mostly for his sake alone, he could defend Touya, trying to come up with something
reassuring. Convicting Bakugou there was nothing to be cautious of; pushing him straight
back to the man’s loving arms. Yet, he did not, with a grim look on his face drawing closer to
the bed to sit on it heavily.

“He would rescue you,” Shouto attempted at least, despite the good intention bringing him
nothing but more misery.

He knew he would. No matter what lies Touya decided to splutter at the moment or what he
wanted to believe in - he would. Breaking his own resolve without a second thought or
slightest hesitation, as if it meant nothing in the first place. He could swear on gods, he would
never, yet once someone, anyone, would have dared to push him, putting their hands on his
mate… Bakugou did not expect them to have hands much longer.

It was simple, and obvious. And pained him deeper than the promised indifference would.
Touya’s love… was painful.

The fact that he had determined to limit it only to Bakugou? Unbearable.

“And what warranty do I have, he would do the same if it was not me but our kids that’re
concerned?” he asked almost desperately, hating himself for the weakness creeping into his
voice. “He may love them as much as he loves me, but will that be enough? Will he put them
first, before the whole group whom he loved just as much, if needed? Is that a risk I should
undertake? Why should I? I just want them to be safe. To feel loved. Not to compete over
their father's affection.”

He hated not knowing things. And living like that… would slowly kill him.

“So yeah, I escaped. Because Touya’s terrified he’s gonna turn into your Father one day.
That’s given the choice, he would do the same because it is what he was taught and knows no
difference. He doesn't want to, and I refuse to be the one to push him to it.”

… And wasn’t the talking nice?

Considering how little it took to shut Shouto up for a while, Bakugou might actually not be
totally against it.

No, in the end, he surely was. As Shouto being Shouto would not give up that easily.

“Fine, that one is clear. But what about the rest?”

“What ‘rest’?” Bakugou asked, despite sudden tiredness trying to kick Shouto off the bed
rather vigorously. “Are we playing twenty question of something?”

“Why me?” Shouto demanded rather boldly for someone who dared to ignore him so
outrightly. “If Enji’s help was all you wanted, you could have gotten it even without me. He
would do anything to rile Touya, as you’re surely aware, so that can’t be it. You used me as a
convenient excuse, but I was clearly not an essential one. You wouldn’t bother reaching out
to me if it wasn’t about something only I can give you, so please understand why I’m so
intrigued.”

Should he dismiss it at once, reluctant to reveal any crucial details or just play it nice, and be
over with it as soon as possible?

Maybe he could try both? “I kinda—” need?— “require your presence.”

“Require? What do you mean?” Or not.

“It’s an Omegas’ business.”

“Marvellous. Tell me then.”

“What— Why should I?!”

“Because you’re acting shady and obviously lying.”

“It doesn’t even concern you!” Bakugou’s screaming before it struck him, that maybe, just a
maybe, it kinda, sort of, is. “Fine! Whatever, you Tactless Shit. I was told not to be alone
during my pregnancy. And I can’t really afford to get in touch with my family, so you’re the
second best thing I have, I guess?”

“That’s… almost sweet, Bakugou.”

“Also, you’re an Alpha and Touya’s brother, so you somewhat smell just like him.”

“... And that’s more like you,” Shouto sighed rolling out the bed. “Still, there’s something
rather fishy about it, and I can't shake the feeling you’re willing to risk more than your own
health to keep me in the dark. Which is silly. And make it extra difficult for me to stay alive.
So, I’m quite motivated to make certain that you and your pups remain intact. By taking you
to the doctor quite right away, whether you like it or not.”
It wasn’t that new? Shouldn't Shouto be just as lost in it all as Bakugou felt? Hesitating more
often than pushing him around, unsure of his own doing rather than demanding, all about
cooperation and answers? They knew each for so long, Bakugou tended to forget he didn’t
actually know him all that well - unlike Shouto who seemed to have him all figured out.

“I’m not going.”

“Yes you are,” Shouto said dismissively, before his eyes lighted up in sudden realisation, “We
can find out all the details.” and Bakugou had to look away, because the bastard was smiling
and looking too damn pretty to handle without prior warning.

“I don’t need to,” he still managed, struggling hard not to falter. “I can tell they’re Alphas;
strong and healthy. There’s nothing more that I need to know.”

He was getting rather used to those flat stares. “They’re fetuses, Bakugou. You won’t be able
to state their secondary genders until they’re at least five and reveal it first. It’s biology.”

“I can feel it.”

“Are you sure you’re not imagining things?”

And wasn’t he cynical now? “Are you still going on about me not being actually pregnant?”

“It’s just… You certainly do look like someone who has been living on sweets in the past
months.”

How dared him??? Bakugou may have gained some extra weight mostly unrelated to his
blessed condition; unable to drown his sorrows, and eating them up instead, but who was
Shouto to judge that? He was sad. How he coped with that was his business alone.

“I’m gonna strangle you,” he warned, in truth not so eager to move from his comfy spot on
the bed and process with that threat.

“Should I come back? I don’t want you to get tired while trying to catch me.”

“You haven't run in your life, pussy.”

“You look like you can’t run at all, Bakugou.”

He could and he did. Or rather tried to, a few minutes later gasping for air like he had
forgotten how to breathe properly, Shouto never quite within his reach. And maybe the
bastard was somehow right, Bakugou admitted reluctantly, about to spit out his lungs. He
should move more. Especially now, as his favourite form of exercise was no longer the one
he could have indulged himself into freely; dragging Touya to the bed whenever he felt like
sweating and stretching out a bit.

Being single sucked already.

Chapter End Notes

So someone asked me how often do I plan on updating, and to be perfectly honest: I'm a
simple creature. If there's a feedback on my fic - I'm more motivated to work on it. (I'm
just a big sucker for your comments, as they're pretty much the only things (outside of
kudos - we obviously love those too ♥) that tells me how my work is received/ if
someone is even reading this at all; so yeah. That's pretty much it.)

Alsooo, I was supposed to update it much sooner nonetheless, but instead spent a week
writing about the Economic Diplomacy of Germany to pass one of my exam, so believe
me when I say, I wasn't very happy about it either x")
 Dr. Moose
Chapter Notes

I have nothing to say in my defence: I fucked up royally *again*, and found myself
unable to get my shit together enough to write regularly as I promised. So. The update.
Hope you'll like it - because I honestly have no idea when I will update it again x'D *I'm
so sorry about that guys*

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Why was he even surprised? It’s not like Shouto had asked him if he’d like to visit a doctor in
the first place. No, he simply announced they’d be going. Indicating that Bakugou had no
saying in this as for the time being Shouto determined him unworthy of more trust than
absolutely necessary, determined to figure out whatever was he hiding on his own. Somehow
convinced that leaving Bakugou no choice but to shut up and follow suit would make him
more cooperative.

Which was not only bold of Shouto, but also utterly foolish, as Bakugou never considered
him to be a dreamer but couldn’t really deny it with a sudden amount of wishful thinking on
his part.

He was a bit occupied back then, trying to pull himself together after the prior dreadful run,
and so had no time to react as Shouto got a hold of his arm and decided to drag him along as
he saw fit, straight to the door. Who gave him the right way beyond Bakugou, and so didn’t
he hesitate to express his displeasure shouting in the man’s face as he almost forced him out
of his flat barefoot.

“Oi!” he barked, struggling hard to free himself. “Where the hell are you taking me?!”

In fact, he had a solid idea about that and, in contrary to some popular beliefs, wasn’t as
much against the whole thing as he wanted people to believe, but still found himself pretty
pissed out with Candy Cane playing stone deaf to his objections. It was always like this:
Bakugou could complain or grumble all he wanted - Shouto Bastard learnt how to shut out
things he didn’t like to hear with a master precision. As often as not, staying blissfully
ignorant to pretty much anything leaving his mouth.

Not this time it seemed, he realised after one particularly malicious scream, as Shouto came
to halt, staring him down over his shoulder. “Do you want us to get caught?”

Well, it hadn’t really crossed his mind until then.

Did he?
Enji’s thugs guarding the building were there on their very request, making sure they would
stay safe and sound inside it. Leaving would be risky, as no one could protect them out of
there. Especially if they sneaked out like this. The whole plan was stupid and reckless, not to
mention forced upon him.

Besides, it’d probably really piss Enji’s off.

Oh... he actually liked the sound of that.

Shit, they’re supposed to be responsible adults, soon-to-be-parents, here. Still, Enji’s fuming
form invaded his mind unexpectedly and wouldn’t leave easily, years of harassing not-so-
poor man hard to overcome.

No. They’d not do this to mess with The Old Man, Bakugou decided. It was important and
could turn out to be quite useful after all. Serving Bakugou’s purposes and agenda just fine,
as there’s no way on earth he’d explain to Todoroki details of his... condition. If he just had to
know, he may have as well heard it out from someone else's mouth. Someone professional
and authorised. Someone who’s not Bakugou. A freaking doctor for example.

But back to it - they definitely should not get caught. Mostly because if they did, they would
be supervised so far more closely Bakugou could have felt an actual pain in the ass already.
Left without answers Shouto would probably nag him up to the moment Bakugou would
have no other choice but to surrender and pour his heart out willingly, and wasn’t that a truly
terrifying prospect?

It was, he had to admit to himself, shutting up at once. Still reluctant but tagging along
nonetheless, without any serious effort skipping past one of Enji’s subordinates. He would
say they did a pretty poor job protecting something so closely, yet falling to spot a man with a
freaking basketball attached to his belly passing them by; but had to admit hanging around
the mentioned mob’s son did its job.

Shouto had basically spent his whole childhood escaping undetected whenever he felt like it.
Frequently leaving Enji on the verge of tears, and those responsible for keeping an eye on
him - verge of death. If he truly wanted to blend in with the crowd, disappearing from one's
sight, he would simply do so, with no one to stop him regardless of their sincere effort.

Just like he did back then, with a firm grip of Bakugou’s wrist moving around as he pleased,
leading them directly to his parked off the beaten track car.

And of course he would have a fucking Porsche.

“What’s with you fellas and your expensive cars?” he murmured, never quite grasping the
strange fascination himself.

The price meant nothing to Bakugou, as the only thing he concerned himself about was their
functionality. If he could bang in one, he could drive in it as well; simply like that. He would
obviously test out the quality himself, on every given opportunity, with full commitment and
every ounce of passion. Just like he did not so long ago, in another very nice car, but refused
to ponder about it ever again.
... Then, a stray thought came in, hitting him like a ton of bricks, and so he gasped suddenly
aware of something he had no time to consider before.

He may have, probably, accidentally, very likely conceived in one of those expensive cars.

Fuck... so classy.

A truly wonderful story to share with their pups in the future.

The car ride took them at best twenty minutes yet for once in his life Shouto remained silent,
temporarily deciding not to pry into Bakugou’s business even as it became plainly obvious he
was itching to ask another of his stupid question, fingers tapping on the steering wheel
absently. Which would probably piss him off too if not for a fact that he was rather keen on
avoiding pretty much any confrontation at the moment. Wanting nothing more but to finally
reach their destination and be over with it the sooner the better.

As a result, nearly storming out of the car as soon as they had arrived at the clinic.

With a temper atypical for any other pregnant Omegas bursting into a waiting hall, having no
mercy on a poor receptionist welcoming him with only a bit concerned smile, fading in the
mere second as he slammed his fists on her desk, demanding, “Give me the bluntest one you
got.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“The doctor,” he urged, by the corner of his eyes observing as Shouto rushed inside, looking
around rather frantic as if somehow convinced Bakugou would disappear on him if only
given the chance. Well, he may try that later if he gets bored. “Someone direct. Untactful
even. The worse, the better.”

She probably thought him insane considering the very meaningful stare he received in a
response, but still processed with his request, handing him a register form to fill in in the
meantime while she disappeared somewhere, giving Shouto enough time to finally join him
by her desk.

“How is it that you can run only when you’re running away?” he inquired in a low voice,
testing his luck.

Gaining nothing but an impassive glare as Bakugou refused to deal with his sassiness right
now. He had a bunch of false personal data to come up with after all, and no time to spare to
keep Shouto entertained.

Especially as not so long later the woman hurried back from a door at the end of the corridor,
already reaching for his form. With a sympathetic smile announcing, “Doctor Kamiya will
see you now,” as if somehow it pained her greatly.
All he had to do to comprehend why was to enter the mentioned man’s office, look around
and take in all the mess surrounding his even messier form... And even if he somehow
would’ve managed to miss it back then, there was just no way to ignore the words coming
from his mouth.

“Oya, oya, someone’s pretty devoted to eating for two already,” the man remarked carelessly
in a form of greeting, and never in his life Bakugou craved anything more than to punch him
in the face right there and then.

No, let him correct himself. The second thing he ever craved that much. The first and prime
would be smashing Shouto for chortling under his breath and being fucking disrespectful.
Luckily, he had any right to do so, and so he did, without thinking about it twice.

Giving the doctor a solid pause, as he considered no visible signs of remorse showed by the
Omega despite the plain abuse of his Alpha. Alpha reluctance to act upon it could be
explained by the unmistakably blessed state of the blond, but still quite unheard-of as,
genetically speaking, Alphas tended to assert their dominance by any chance. With their
mates no less, nearly anxious to maintain the usual dynamic between the second genders.

“You’re not his mate, are you,” he inquired, addressing the other man.

Only to be met with a fierce scowl of his new patient. “How’s that your damn business?”

Was he trying to intimidate him? Yes, he was. What a surprise! He got a little bully here...

Unfortunately for the Little Omega, he was known for being one himself. “Take it easy,
Angry Ball. Just tryn’ to figure out the formalities here. So,” he began again, using his
‘beyond average even for Alphas’ height to purposely look at the other male overhead the
blonde fuming form. “Are you?”

“Not really. But my brother is,” Shouto being Shouto answered.

Revealing way too much truth for how false the show they were putting up was.

Humming in acknowledgment, the doctor spun around to fall back onto his chair heavily, not
even trying to pretend he cared enough to muster up some energy. “Yet he’s not here. And
you’re handling it surprisingly well,” Kamiya noted pointing a finger at Bakugou. “Are you a
Dominant Omega by the chance?”

He was, but remained silent, not feeling like confirming the obvious. Especially with the
doctor already halfway through his monolog; seeming to have it all figured out.

“Fascinating. Not that uncommon, but still interesting.” Truth be told, he looked anything but
thrilled, yawing blatantly before rising up from his spot to join them by the door. “I’mma run
some tests before sending you off.”

“Are you even qualified to work here?” Bakugou couldn’t help but ask, torn between the
frown and rather telling grimace.
“Dunno. I’m I?” The fact he had the audacity to look Bakugou in the eyes and repeat after
him spoke for itself. He was stupid... he had to be. No wonder the receptionist gave him the
worried gaze. “Besides, you’re the one that requested me specifically, Hot Head.”

And did he now?

If that’s what the woman behind the desk had made out of his description, Bakugou felt
slightly sorry for the man...

... Nah. Not really.

“I asked for the greatest bastard they have and they gave me you. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“Touching,” he cackled as Bakugou scowled.

Truly impressive, Todoroki agreed in the safe space of his mind, nodding thoughtfully.

Never in his life Shouto would’ve guessed that one day he would get the chance to observe
firsthand as someone had not only tried, but also succeeded on spot, in befriending Bakugou
Katsuki.

They made... a very lively pair, indeed.

After the ‘interrogation’ they moved to the tests as promised.

And god, Bakugou hated those. Not because of the procedures themselves, maternal blood
test passing in the blink of the eye, but thanks to the stupid Doctor Moose’s unnecessary
babbling and revealing all the things Bakugou wished not to know. Not that he didn’t care -
of course he did, but he simply preferred to wait it out, and find out then, and then only.

“It’s a bit too soon to accurately determine the gender but we can try if you’re interested.”

On the contrary to suddenly very engaged Shouto - with his big, mismatched eyes shining
joyfully and mouth open wide in awe; harassing the poor man for all the detail he could think
of.

“We want to,” he confirmed at the same time Bakugou firmly declined, “Fuck no.”

And well, it’s not like they had to agree in everything.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Bakugou cut him off short.

Only for Todoroki to rebut with a newfound determination, “You’re being difficult for no
purpose.”

“I can be as difficult as I want! You still have no saying in this.”

“By all means - I do, Bakugou. You made me their parent yourself the moment you stepped
into my house seeking shelter from my own brother.”

Were they seriously doing this? They were, weren’t they. Fuck this then - Bakugou would eat
him alive if that’s how he wanted to play. The pups were his after all. He didn’t need to give
Shouto any damn purpose.

“You're still not their father. Touya is.”

There was something deeply satisfying in the way Shouto’s eyes darkened and his expression
turned stony. He was mad, and Bakugou ravished in that, smug until his very next words,
“Would you like me to call him then?”

He wouldn’t dare...

“You wouldn't dare.”

“I’m sure he’d be just as interested in it as am I.”

His body moved on its own volition, ready to strangle Shouto where he stood before his mind
even got a chance to catch up with the whole idea. He wouldn’t regret it either way, he
determined fingers twitching to squeeze the life out of his annoying fiancé. FIANCÉ for
god's sake! If he won’t kill him now who knows how this would turn out to be in the future.
Dear lord, what if they had to truly go through with it, marry, and the only thing left for him
would be calling the Candy Cane his fucking husband?

Hell would have to freeze over first before that!

Bakugou already made up his mind. They could lock him up afterwards and it still would be
worth it.

It would- It truly would!, if only someone wouldn’t stop him right before he could finalize it.

“Easy there, buddy,” Doctor Moose cooed at him, locking his outstretched hands into his own
solid grip as the realisation dawned upon Shouto; his body backing away instinctively. The
preventive step back wouldn’t do him much if not for Kamiya, but the unconsciousness of the
action made Bakugou smile viciously. “Or you may hurt yourself. And that’d be something
we don’t want now, do we?”

Little could stop Bakugou from his blind rage, and Kamiya acting as his damn mother
wouldn’t either. He wanted to snarl it into the man’s face, making himself as clear as
possible, furious and raging, emotions on the loose and running wild for the first time in
months. About to snap when Shouto's voice broke through, stopping him at the very last
moment.

“I went too far,” he admitted, eyes flat and face bored. “I’m terribly sorry.” Even if he wasn’t
sorry at all.

“There’s still an 3-D ultrasound ahead of us.”

“There is,” Bakugou agreed with Kamiya, despite anger still vibrant under his skin
obediently laying down and rolling up his shirt. “But you won’t tell us a shit about it,” he
dared.

Not a bit bothered by Shouto and a dirty stare he sent his way in the response.

“Whoo hoo, it’s two! ” Moose chirped somehow in the middle, as the hideous traitor that he
was.

Making Shouto beam happily, as the big silly baby that he apparently was. Eyes glistening
with tears he didn’t even try to hide, he moved closer to seize the moment and hug Bakugou’s
numb body as if there was truly anything to be happy about in the first place.

They expected twins. Twins guaranteed double trouble.

Not like Shouto appeared to share the same opinion, with a bright smile wiping the remains
of tears away.

“No wonder you’re so BIG,” he teased, and Bakugou resolved that he would definitely kill
him one day.

The whole examination went smoothly, confirming what Bakugou already knew: so far the
kids were healthy. Developing as they should, and growing up right before the eyes. Kamiya
as an OB/GYN (doctor specializing in pregnancy, birth, and diseases affecting reproductive
organs) would become his primary care physician, responsible for his regular check-ups
appointments and running any potential tests that may come up eventually. Undertaking it
upon himself with a great share of zero enthusiasm, and even less forced pleasantries. With
his unwillingness bringing some instant glee into Bakugou’s life, as for all he cared, the man
could suffer the worst for being an ass.

Especially then, as they’re done with the formalities and so he could finally throw them out,
making an evident attempt to put the idea into action as soon as possible. Already bored to
death with this standard examination; having no particular expectations to begin with yet
somehow still ending up disappointed as a conclusion.

“Here’s your prescription, Mr. Sato.”

That’s it. He was almost done. All he had to do now was to get them out of his office. Then,
he could get rid of the both of them permanently, with some luck handling them over to some
other sore loser in the clinic. He had a very important nap to attend to after all, and no time to
spare for an unimportant business. Life was short and he’d sleep through as much of it as he
could.

“Mr. Sato?” he repeated politely, addressing the clearly absentminded Omega. Did he forget
his own name? Was it even possible? Well, whatever. He chose a blissful ignorance. As long
as it didn’t affect Omega's pregnancy, it wasn’t his concern anyway. “That’s all on my part. Is
there something, anything, else you wish to discuss with me?”

No, Bakugou’s self-preservation instincts seemed to scream, yet he silenced them down at
once, with a shaky breath muttering, “I’ve got a Weak Blood.”

Doctor Moose blinked once. Twice. Then several more, before Shouto bet him to it. “A what
now?”

The only difference between them would be that he, in contrast to Satan and Elsa’s Baby,
knew perfectly well what that meant. He knew, and was bloody thrilled by the prospect.

Maybe he could keep them after all.

But before that, he just had to make sure. “The weak blood. Like the condition, ‘Weak
Blood’, or are you feeling feeble and need a prescribed medication?”

If the snort the blond let out was anything to go by, he might have as well just wasted his
breath.

“Of course the bloody condition. Now since we got it straight, care to explain it to my bright
confidante, so I won’t have to, Mr. Doctor?”

The sooner the better, given that the mentioned companion was frowning deeply for some
solid minute now, probably giving himself a stroke.

“Ah. Yes. Explain it. Sure.”

Easier said than done. Especially when you’re a doc with no subtlety and basic knowledge of
human interaction. Should he just get straight to the point or set the suitable mood first?

He was never the one beating around the bush, but felt kinda inspired for a change.
Beginning his tale with an indication of the whole condition being nothing but a medical
myth; occurring rarely enough to be still considered as an unfathomable phenomenon. The
story of the Omegas whose bodies rebelled against their own inner nature, experiencing a
certain Hormonal Imbalance making theirs confusingly similar to those of Alphas. Aside
from more assertive personalities, their development tended to proceed just typically, raising
no immediate concerns. The issues appeared due to more... particular circumstances. A
pregnancy for instance. Its period affecting the normally high testosterone level, lowering it
adequately to the change, as most Omegas happen to be more calm and tender during their
pregnancies.

The main problem would emerge with the solution time - after the childbirth hormonal level
starting to regulate itself back to its original degree. Within too sudden change carrying the
risks of some nasty after-effects; the inner omega starting to regard their pups as a potential
threat to themself. Going defensive on what they consider an abnormality; feeling irrationally
pressurized - threatened even; their position unsteady. In desperate need of something
familiar. Secure.
“Especially without their Alphas to reassure them otherwise,” he hinted carefully, eyeing the
other Alpha in the room.

He reeked of uneasiness; worry growing stronger with every new detail revealed as nothing
but a pure nonsense. It wouldn’t take long for it to start affecting them all, whenever they
liked it or not. Something he couldn’t really allow to happen, compelled to stop him before
the Omega (more sensitive to this types of things by nature) would copy it after him. It
already influenced him severely; the lower caste trembling slightly under the invisible force
of Alpha’s heavy scent.

And so, he summarized it briefly, referring to the wilds and its lows. Each for himself. It was
a very likely outcome after all; maternal instincts drowned out to be replaced with more
primary ones: To secure your own survival - by putting and taking care of yourself first.
Despite, and with the include, of the cost. To simply walk away without looking back.

That’s why they called it a ‘Weak Blood’ - the blood rejecting blood to protect itself. A
parent sacrificing their youngsters to carry on without them.

“I don’t... I don’t understand.”

It was a harsh truth, and Shouto had a problem for grasping it as anything but a cruel joke.

“I might reject them,” Bakugou explained further, his face a mask impossible to read. “My
pups. I might abandon them as if they weren’t mine to begin with, ‘cause they wouldn’t be, in
my mind. Just an inconveniences - nothing more, nothing less.”

“Also, there’s a huge chance for complications during the pregnancy itself,” Kamiya added
helpfully, ignoring a particularly nasty glare sent his way. “Reconnecting with the father
would be highly advised. But - if for whatever reason - it’d be impossible, I must insist that at
a very least, starting today you’d stay under my very close supervision, Mr. Sato.”

He could have predicted that, Bakugou mused some time later, horror-struck on the threshold
of Shouto’s living room. Not only could have, but also should have, the signs right in front of
his eyes the whole time. He paid enough attention to notice - their unnaturally silent ride back
home; Shouto avoiding his gaze on purpose - but didn’t trouble enough to dwell on it longer
than absolutely necessary. For his own convenience assuming that after all the revelations
Shouto needed just some time for himself.

But thinking, as it turned out, could be dangerous, bringing out matters meant to stay buried;
never to be discussed or even considered. Some uncomfortable truths to reflect upon; some
self-righteous reasoning leading to hasty decisions, compromising all the previous efforts.
Thinking - especially in Shouto’s case - led to an unpreventable disaster; that braced by his
straightforward and primarily soft nature happened to catch everybody off guard.

Because who in the world would have expected that one would stab them in the front, for the
sake of their own well-being.
Bakugou did not; deliberately oblivious to Shouto’s strange behaviour. He wasn’t a very
talkative person per se, but even for him being this quiet seemed simply odd. As if deep in
thought about matters he wished not to share with anybody, he kept his mouth shut, purposely
avoiding Bakugou’s gaze. Indicating that whatever was being thought over, not only included
him personally, but was also intentionally hid away from him.

Only once did he break the silence; his face restrained tightly not to betray anything that’d
been going on inside his head ever since they had left Dr. Moose office, and asked, “Were
you unhappy?”, as if Bakugou could read his mind and fill in straight away.

When, and only then, it became painfully obvious he did not, Shouto forced himself to look
away from the road and finally at him - and it gave Bakugou goosebumps because he didn’t
know this man; the false facade he don as a mask to prevent Bakugou from peeking in
making it painfully obvious: he was calculating in the worst possible way; with the personal
feelings subdue, considering some greater good. About to make them happy; by force if
needed.

“With Touya I mean. Were you unhappy?”

Never. Despite all the fights and bitter words; the lack of mutual understanding and common
ground; shed tears and spilled blood. Never truly. Never longer than for a heartbeat; Touya’s
tormented face easing the hottest fire raving inside his body. His silky, honeyed words
soothing Bakugou’s sharp mind; rough yet delicate hands luring him into familiar touch.

“It’s not about whether I was or not. What counts is that I cannot be anymore.”

It was the plainest of truths, but Shouto still seemed to disagree, self-righteous about facts
reviewed inside his head without Bakugou’s fatalism. He didn’t have to be right to feel just
like it - and back then he was more certain than ever before; the expression on his face
gradually turning into one of the grim determination.

“You won’t even reconsider it? Even if by acting so, you’re gonna kill your pups yourself?”

The sudden, sharp pain in his chest stole his breath away.

Kill... his pups?

Wha-

... When all he did, he did for them?

His inner Omega howled loudly in protest.

“You might miscarry. Or get depressed and try to hurt yourself. Have suicidal thoughts.
Reject them even before they’re born...”

Bakugou couldn’t breathe. Yet Shouto wouldn’t stop talking. Spouting nonsense as he saw
fit. Babbling and babbling, ignorant to his clear discomfort.
His heart was pondering; fast and heavy, as if trying to beat out of his chest. Background
noise sending him over the edge. His hands... were shaking. His breath raspy. Eyes stinging.
The space inside the car suddenly too small to grant any further comfort.

Why was he still talking?

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

He wanted to get out. So badly, he didn’t even consider he might get hurt in the process.
Already jerking at the car door handle, ready to jump, and run, and... And he somehow
managed to open the passenger door while they drove at least 70 kmph; Shouto’s hands
grabbing at his shirt in a mere second, desperate to hold him back. To do so letting go of the
steering wheel entirely.

In the end, a mess is what he’d call it, with all the screams and gasps, and Shouto’s shaky
form cursing under his breath as soon as he managed to brake. Almost a fucking disaster, but
luckily they didn’t hit the car driving from the opposite direction.

It’d be my life from now on, Shouto reflected upon it, and it sounded bitter even in his own
mind. It’d be my life from now on, if I don’t do something about it, he corrected himself, his
resolve stronger than ever before.

He won’t let anything bad happen to Bakugou. Even if it meant he would’ve to protect him
from himself.

A dick move, is what Bakugou would call it later on, when the emotions subsided.

After some while, because for now on, he couldn’t grasp it for anything other than utter
betrayal. Treachery in its pure form - something that Shouto couldn’t understand properly
back then yet, showing no regrets for committing it in the first place.

They caught each other by surprise - Bakugou emerging from the bedroom he was
supposedly taking a nap in; to talk to him or yell randomly, nothing out of ordinary, but a
guilt Shouto himself wasn’t feeling just yet, seemed to loosen his grip of the phone he was
pressing to his ear a moment earlier. With sheer horror watching as it felt out of his hand and
down to the floor. Laying there innocently, evenly between the two of them.

He tried not to panic, but something about his expression must have given him away as
realisation dawned upon Bakugou. Then, his face paled as if he was about to faint, and
Shouto moved without thinking ready to catch him if needed. Only to stop dead in his tracks,
as Bakugou whispered, “You didn’t-”, at the same time as the phone’s screen turned on;
lighting up right in front of their eyes.

“Hello?” spoke the voice on the other side of the line, wearily, prior to its owner bothering
enough to check the caller ID; at the sight of Shouto’s name cheering up at once. His deep
laugh piercing the room and turning Bakugou’s blood cold. “What a pleasant surprise. Is
there anything I can do for you, little brother?”
 ... Bakugou suspected that’s how dying must’ve felt like; his guts burning up as if lit on fire,
his mouth suddenly too dry to even muster a word... Incomparable pain of a heart bleeding
out in his very chest.

Chapter End Notes

Kamiya was a funny character to write, so you can expect more of him in the followings
chapters -- Also, I'm totally positive that he's somehow related to Aizawa X'D

(1) Shouto's not a big fan of children in general, but he's a big softie when it comes to
his own family: he gets rather emotional while thinking about 'tenny wenny copies of
Touya' running around.
(2) Todoroki thinks he'll get things right by calling Dabi. Little do he knows.
 Call
Chapter Summary

Basically Dabi's POV + Shouto's little misstep.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Dabi... wasn’t really having the time of his life.

The last couple of months had put him to the test more than the whole twenty-seven years of
living had; the pace he once established, during almost the six years of relationship, wrecked
up in a heartbeat. The change was sudden; outcome unexpected despite all the signs he
bluntly decided to ignore. There’re more of them rather than less if he’s being perfectly
honest; piling up right in front of his eyes. He tried to blink it away, keeping his eye closed
for longer, and longer, until he couldn’t see anything anymore. He blinded himself to the
problem, the more stubborn part of him refusing to acknowledge it properly, and so
eventually it came as nothing but a surprise.

A joke he gave no second thought to, considering it far too cruel to possibly turn out to be
true.

Bakugou had left him, and he brushed it aside, preoccupied with things more urgent than
another of their typical quarrels. Their numbers seemed to only increased over the years;
Bakugou’s declaring a war on him every other day with just the same unwavering passion;
and he was simply too busy to dwell upon every single one of them. It was fine as long as
they didn’t argue about anything serious, and honestly, they did hardly ever - treating
bickering as just another form of the foreplay.

Hence, he dismissed the whole thing at once, for a time being distracting himself with work.
Pretending not to notice it already took Bakugou longer than it usually would to return home.

Bakugou had left him; all of sudden avoiding him like one’d the plague, and something in
Dabi’s chest tightened for no apparent reason. Frankly, he was used to it too; Bakugou
randomly storming out in the middle of their fight to cool down somewhere else; after the
fact capable of sulking for good moths. It was childish, but Touya would give him all the time
he needed to get it together, and - as long as he allowed himself to be found afterwards, or
better - came back to him on his own - never hold it against him.

They played this game for so long, it’s hard to believe one day Bakugou may refuse to come
back at all. He always did, and the principle of it gave Dabi enough confidence to carry on
normally.
But with the passing time the grave realisation gradually sunk in, filling him with the sheer
horror. This time around... might be different, he thought absently in the first month. This time
around... he’s more stubborn, he summed up in the second, regarding himself in the mirror -
his own miserable reflection laughing in his face. This time around... he may slip through my
finger, he realised in the third, oh-so tired - suspense wearing him out; expectation and hope
slowly dying down, - nauseous at the very thought yet be pure determination getting hold of
himself. To wash his face and head out to the obscure bar he, truthfully, loathed deeply.

To wait. And to plead.

Because Bakugou might’ve tried to leave him, but he was not obligated to sit around and let
him.

After three months he finally got to see him again, but the sensation of wrongness didn’t ease
at all. It accompanied him all evening - beginning long before he even left his house, and
moderately increasing as he sipped his drink; reaching its peak as he found whom he looked
for in the crowd, approaching him slowly. His stomach twisted in the response but he paid it
no mind, already reaching for his lover to pull him closer. The realisation’s stronger than ever
before, as he held him into his arms.

He was leaving, yet still got the guts to ask him to take him home; swaying his hips and
whispering sweet nothing into Dabi’s ear. It’s a passing thought, but for the first time in his
life Touya genuinely considered strangling him as he sat. To wrap his finger around that
slender neck and tighten his grip until Bakugou would learn not to test him again.

Forcing him to stay sounded like a tempting idea too, but he dismissed it at once, knowing
that he wouldn’t manage anyway. At least not without breaking him first, but how could he,
while he loved that damned audacity of his just the same as he did the rest of him.

He must’ve been mad, but he wanted him as he was, and so he let him play with his heart
once again; for the fleeting chance of preventing the inevitable gritting his teeth and enduring
it all.

The sensation did not fade away even when he finally had him in his bed; where he belonged,
his sweaty body embraced by Dabi’s arms protectively. It still felt wrong, but he convinced
himself otherwise, placing a kiss on Bakugou’s forehead. He could’ve felt it deep in his
bones - urging, calling, warning; screaming HE’LL LEAVE YOU; bugging as he drifted off to
sleep, questioning his better judgment as he chose to ignore it, refusing to believe it.

Bakugou was happy after all, wasn’t he? He was, and it was by Dabi’s own doing. He knew
how to make him happy; how to make him smile brighter than ever; sincerely and simply
beautifully. He could make him into his world; the one and only he would cherish and love
forever. Belong to him, just the same as Bakugou did to him.

He wasn’t unhappy. He wasn’t. He wasn’t and so he wouldn't leave him... He wouldn’t...

He did.

Why would he?

The question arose every now and then, but no one seemed to know the answer.

He didn’t get one from Bakugou, as the man slipped out of his grasp and left while he
remained asleep after their previous night activities.

Ei - the boy guarding his bedroom door instead of Higa whom he sent away - also provided
him with none; apparently forgetting to ask while he allowed Bakugou to escape, which
greatly disappointed him. In this field of work, you usually don’t want to disappoint your
boss. Mostly because tradition required failures to be paid off in fingers.

Frankly, it’s nothing personal, and had only cost the boy his pinkies. Watching him cut them
off didn’t make Dabi feel any better, and so he spared him from moving further, keeping his
common sense - the boy needed the rest of his fingers to hold the gun properly, and Dabi
wasn’t in the mood to draw any serious consequences because of a misstep.

Even if the boy in front of him helped his mate leave unnoticed, clearly forgetting where his
loyalties lied.

He was reminded, and Dabi still lacked any real answers.

Soon after, Dabi welcomed back his old friend - solitude. The one he had completely
forgotten about in the last five years, yet couldn’t longer deny now, as it clawed its way back
to his life. His dearest, most intimate companion; sneaking unnoticed and trying to taint him.
Reaching for his heart; to infect its remaining tissues and swallow him whole.

It worked while he was five - in a house full of strangers feeling more alone and isolated that
he possibly should; detesting his father, his mother; his soon-to-be-born siblings; men calling
him the ‘young master’ - this whole damned family.

Now that he turned twenty-seven, it no longer held its power over him - he felt lonely, but he
was not alone. With the small army of men by his very side, calling up to him with almost
fanatic admiration. There’re his brothers; the actual ones, he cherished deeper than his true
blood. In Inferno, Enji was still his Father, but he learned to regard him with cold
indifference; more of a boss than a dad. And it hadn’t bothered him as much as he thought it
would.

He got himself a new family - and it helped him through the worse.

There’s no doubt it’d help him get through this too - his entire new reality without Bakugou
in it - even if at that moment he refused to move past fucking anything.
He was pissed, and stressed out, and so very on edge no one dared to approach him for the
good following month.

Three months later, he threw his bed through the window, scaring the shit out of his standing
outside subordinates. It was big and heavy, nearly impossible to move not to mention picking
up alone, but he wasn’t in a very reasonable mood either. His bed wasn’t much his; reminding
him of things he’d simply prefer to forget; on top of everything smelling wrong - Bakugou’s
smell fading away ages ago, even if he forbade anyone from washing his bedding.

Something about today made him tense, and so he decided to ease some tension by the old
fashioned methods, instead of just randomly lashing out at someone. It left him panting, yet
surprisingly light-spirited; before Higa barged in - a gun in his hand and grim expression on
his face; with his arrival bringing up the sudden realisation that struck him all at once - he’d
still need the bed anyway, and picking a new one wouldn’t necessarily solve his problems...
And so his better mood was all gone.

“Boss... Would you like to accompany me today?”

If redecorating failed to improve his mood, going out would’ve to do. Maybe he’d be able to
shoot something if they’re lucky enough.

No shooting for today it seemed, but they got a guy tied to the chair, and Dabi could
appreciate the effort of the universe though. He valued violence and didn’t abuse it
unnecessary, knowing its true strength laid in the inevitability. But today- well, today he’d
make an exception, itching for some action, and feeling more than just justified, with a
random thug bumping into him earlier in the middle of his ‘pacifying walk’; only to split at
his feet and declare himself the member of the mighty ‘S-serpents-s’, “Tremble in fear,
weaklings-s.”

Dabi never heard of them, but they pissed him off already, and so he’d make sure to help
them perish later on when he’s done with their (allegedly) elite member. At the single sight of
the knife freely spitting out the information they never asked him for in the first place.

He was having a short break - closely observing if Higa managed to improve with handling
the pliers - when his phone rang, silencing everyone in the room - their guest included. He
may have passed out, Dabi concluded, absently picking up before reprimanding himself and
at least checking up if it wasn’t his favourite detective Aizawa, fishing for some more reasons
to put him in jail already.

It was not; and he brightened abruptly, a weak smile creeping onto his face. “What a pleasant
surprise. Is there anything I can do for you, little brother?”, he chirped.
At the same time the two things had happened - his naughty guest started to scream as if he
was being skinned off alive, and the other side of line went blank, with a prior loud thud.

... Did Shouto just call him to make him the witness of the disposal of his newest phone? Or
was this some kind of encrypted message he failed to comprehend, daring not to question the
sanity of his dearest brother, as the sound resembled him of nothing but a phone being thrown
straight at the wall?...

Bakugou was having none of that.

Quite literally; lunging forward and picking up the phone from the floor, only to throw it at
the nearest wall before Shouto did as much as blink. His victory was admirable and absolute;
or at least, so he thought before realising he may have underestimated his opponent - the little
devilish device coming back to life just as abruptly as it was supposed to meet its end;
lighting up and ringing happily from the other end of the room. He expected to have smashed
it completely, but somehow failed, losing his only opportunity to end this without the
bloodshed - as Shouto already came back to his senses, eyeing him warily as he moved to get
his phone back; and Bakugou would have to kill him to prevent the worst case scenario from
happening.

“I just want to greet him,” Shouto assured, raising both of his hands in surrender. Bakugou
didn’t believe him at all.

“Not a word about my pregnancy,” he warned, getting up slowly. “And I’m not staying to
supervise. Remember better not test me, Todoroki.”

He wanted to stay and make sure Shouto would behave, but at the same time found himself
unable to. Dabi— Touya, was just on the other side of the phone call. If he listened carefully
enough, he could’ve still heard his voice. God, they didn’t talk for so long his hands itched to
wrestle the phone away from Shouto’s grasp, and have him all to his own. He missed him,
craving the easier solution emerging right in front of him; their very chance to reunite
peacefully.

He may be weak because of his love, but he refused to give in to the weakness with his
action. He would detest himself otherwise even more, and so he needed to stay strong. He
knew he could do that - and so, he turned on his heel and left the dazed Shouto alone in the
room, gripping his phone tightly with a weird hunch that he might’ve just somehow won a
battle for his life, that he didn’t even know he was participating in.

“Are you alright?” asked the other voice as soon as he picked up.

Touya seemed concerned and Shouto could’ve appreciated that, if not for a fact, that it was
all his bloody fault to begin with; his crazy ex barging into Shouto’s house and throwing his
poor phone across the room as if it's nothing.
So, all he mustered up at the moment was a sour grimace, hopefully not heard over the phone
call as he reassured, “I’m fine. I just broke my phone,” he added grimly, daring not to look at
the pitiful condition of his screen. Instead, fully concentrating on Touya’s... colorful
background sounds. “Are you perhaps busy?”

“Never too busy to speak to you, little brother. I was just watching a movie. Surprisingly
violent one, if you ask me,” he joked just as another scream emerged, and Shouto flinched.
“Why? Do not tell me you’re gathering evidence against me once again? I thought we’d put
that behind us a long ago, Sho.”

Great, now he was being mocked. You’re young and ambitious, and tried to send your whole
family to jail ONCE, and they’ll never let you live it down.

Besides, if he truly wanted to send them all to hell nowadays, he’d do it with ease at least
three times already.

“How’s Bakugou?” he asked instead, cutting Touya’s chitchatting off.

Immediately alarming the other man, as he regarded the change of subjects too sudden and
random not to take notice. “You haven’t asked about him in a long time. Why now?”

He should’ve lie. He should’ve, but never was one for the subtlety and unnecessary beating
around the bush, “Why exactly did the two of you break up?”

Silence. The high-pitched scream. Pause. More screaming of this so-called movie character.
Touya rapid footsteps. Loud bang, and once again silence, for a change drilling into Shouto’s
skull more violently than the real drill would.

“Who told you that? We talked only a few days ago and you seemed oblivious,” he pressed
on, and Shouto didn’t like his tone one bit. Abruptly, he sounded sharper and more focused
than Shouto ever heard him before, and he halted where he stood, surprised. “Are the two of
you together now?”

“No,” Shouto gasped out too briskly; regretting it almost instantly. “No, were not,” he tried to
correct himself in vain.

He could’ve almost tasted the word ‘dangerous’ on his tongue when Dabi spoke again,
“Don’t lie to me, you little punk. What the hell are the two of you doing together?”

Bonding, he almost blurred out, his self-preservation instinct kicking in barely in time. It was
not a laughing matter - he acknowledged that much discerning the sounds of Touya’s moving
around rapidly wherever he was; having some valid idea where exactly was he heading.

He may have messed up a little. They all may die in the near future - if not by Touya’s hands,
then Bakugou would surely take it upon himself to at least end Shouto - if he wouldn’t even
try to make it right. “He was lonely and came to talk. He’s not here—”

“I warned you not to lie,” he rebuked. “Suki wouldn’t come to ‘talk to’ you. He can’t stand
you.”
 And even if it’s all true, the bluntness and certainty of the statement made it sting wrongly.
Shouto wasn’t the one to get caught in the heat of the argument, but he wasn’t one to be
pushed around either, and so he blurted out before thinking, “He came to me, Touya,“ he
emphasized, knowing all too well it would hit where it hurts.

If the following silence meant anything, he was right, crossing his brother once and for good.

It wasn’t his intention when he made the phone call, wanting nothing more but some clarity;
a fresh point of view with more answers than questions. About to take it upon himself to play
the role of mediator between those two hot-heads, with some luck in no time solving all of
their problems. Not necessarily to create additional ones. Help them reconcile; like a good
brother pushing Bakugou back straight into Touya’s loving arms. To give them a chance of
being a proper family...

Not to make Dabi’s vein burst as he asked, or rather stated, very slowly, “You did not lay a
hand on him.”

He did not, but felt rather daring. “I may have had.”

“We’re leaving. Now!” Shouto screamed from another room, with the urgency of it emerging
Bakugou to actually pay attention and not to ignore him plainly for the rest of their lives as he
intended to originally.

But he acted like an asshole, calling Bakugou’s ex for no apparent reason than just being a
dick, and so, he couldn’t forget him that easily, “I’m not going anywhere with you until you
apologize properly, Candy Cane.”

“Touya’s coming,” he simply said, bursting into the room to give him a quick look over.
“And if you’re still that concerned about him finding out about that, I’d advise you to start
moving.”

Bakugou must have heard him wrong, because for a moment he’d have sworn he had said
something about Touya’s coming here. Which was ridiculous. Absurd in no funny way; and
so he had to just make sure he misheard. Not expecting that Shouto would simply repeat it
once again, with the calmness inadequate to any kind of situation creeping Bakugou out.

“What have you done, Shouto?”

“I decided for you,” he confessed. “All you have to do now is to follow it through or simply
stay. Your choice. Either way - it’s final. And there’s no turning back from it.”

Chapter End Notes

I felt like Touya's POV was important to write too, because honestly, he’s not a bad guy
here. Bakugou isn’t either; and it’s not always about who’s at fault - their relationship
was complicated as it was, and they couldn’t make it work at that time in their lives. But
they tried, and they suffered because of it; and it’s important to acknowledge, because
that's where the development begins → Touya not knowing Bakugou’s reasons and thus
not understanding them at all; left alone - at the same time losing both his mate and his
brother.
Bakugou cutting off all ties and eloping with Shouto; too busy with the matter of
pregnancy to really dwell on his own feelings.

It’s a mess, but I can’t wait to watch them grow - for either better or worse (─‿‿─)
 Sidestep
Chapter Notes

The feedback to the last chapter was mindblowing! You guys are truly amazing!
(Also, because of it I felt somehow inspired so here’s a new chapter - rejoice My
Brothers and Sisters - the waiting’s over (¬‿¬) )

I'm aware it's rather short, but for the next chapters I'd want to focus mainly on the
Stages of Baku's pregnancy (and so I decided to give some closure to the previous plot
here, before moving forward, to not separate action to much. So that's it ♡ )

In all the wild world,

there is no more desperate creature
than a human being
on the verge of losing love.

Atticus Poetry

Bakugou was given the choice.

The irony was, he didn’t appreciate it at all.

Not with Shouto rubbing him all the wrong way, acting fucking odd. Pacing around like a
man with the devil at his heels, grabbing random things and stuffing them into a suitcase.
Wasting no time to really think it through or reconsider, probably about to leave the majority
of his favourite-ugly-ass attires behind. A bit too eager to leave for someone -theoretically-
still not involved enough to have to worry that much.

There’s something... amiss with how things between him and Touya escalated in a matter of
minutes, and Bakugou wanted to know what exactly. Clicking his tongue, and grabbing
Shouto’s arm to ensure he wouldn’t escape before revealing everything.

“What are you so nervous about?”

He’s not to get his answers that easily, he realised as Shouto just stared at him blankly.
Finally slowing down, only to stop in his track and stand there quietly, fixing him with a
somehow defiant stare. “I am not,” he denied, going defensive rather swiftly. With his lips
pressed together in a tight line and arms crossed over his chest, giving away a whole different
story.
If Shouto was not being jumpy here, Bakugou was simply blind. Which he was not, having
the perfect eyesight, thank you very much. There was definitely something off with Shouto’s
behaviour; something he didn’t care to hide, or just hasn't known how to. As always,
appearing collected on the surface; showing the bare minimum of the signs telling otherwise,
but due to the hold Bakugou got on him unable to conceal just how pent up he truly was.
Literally vibrating with some strange energy, too vivid for his usual self. As if ready to make
a run for it any second now...

Jogging Bakugou’s memory, because damn, it seemed familiar. The anxious avoidance of the
eye contact, the furrowed brows- Something more than just guilt rising to the surface. He
looked uneasy. Just like Bakugou’s father used to do while accidentally crossing his mother.
Or those wimps did after crossing the boundaries and getting on Dabi’s bad side.

The quickened breath, the frown on his face-

It took him a moment to realise that nervousness was in fact only the side effect of something
else. Something bigger and far worse; but then, when it did, it hit him like a truck, making
him lose his grip on Shouto at once. “You’re scared,” Bakugou muttered. “You’re scared of
Touya,” he concluded further, as Shouto’s startled wince confirmed it as it was. “What have
you told him?”

Clenching his trembling hands into fists, he demanded answers. Suddenly irritated with
Shouto's reluctance to give them straight away. “I may have suggested that we’re intimate.”

“You did what?!”

They’re supposed to play it safe. To disappear without a word, before anyone as much as
figured things out. Not to poke the damn bear; outrightly announcing their intentions to the
whole world.

Not to even mention that Shouto went completely overboard, having no right to make such a
claim. Implying that their relationship was anything more than it was; doing so in Touya’s
face no less. Literally claiming Bakugou has replaced him with not just anyone, but his
bloody brother. On top of everything else doing so straight after they had broken up.

Just thinking about it made Bakugou sick in the stomach. It wasn’t it. He wasn’t playing
around; trying to hurt Touya on purpose. He held him too dear to just turn his back on
everything good they had. Those cherished memories, and moments they’d spent together -
swinging towards Shouto would be as good as splitting at them all. He didn’t sink that low,
and didn't want Touya to believe it either. To hurt him even more than absolutely necessary...

“What’s the big case?” Shouto got the guts to ask. “Enji also thinks we’ve lovers. It doesn’t
really change anything.”

“You and your stupid loose lips are!” he barked instead, refusing to acknowledge it as
anything but needless burden. Shouto might’ve thought he was doing him a favour, forcing
his resolve to the final test, but Bakugou made up his mind a long time ago. He would leave,
and do so nonetheless anything that may happen. Still, the necessity of avoiding
confrontation was a hard thing to swallow, especially as it’d bury the only chance he'd
probably get to set it all straight with Touya.

“He didn’t even question it,” Shouto tried to defend himself. “He just hung up.”

Which actually sounded weird, even for Touya. He was too sceptical to just take someone's
word for pretty much anything. Besides, Bakugou sincerely doubted that he has ever
considered Shouto as anything but a threat; despite the fact that he and Bakugou were just the
same age, addressing him like one would a child. Or rather quite a rebellious teenager; not an
Alpha to be all conscious of.

He would faster laugh in his face than feel intimidated by the two of them sleeping together,
so it couldn’t be it. It just didn’t fit...

Then, Bakugou put two to two together, unable to control the sudden outburst of hysterical
laughter.

It all came down to the matter of his pregnancy, and how because of it, not so long ago he
had missed Touya’s rut. Taking into consideration that they were synchronized, Alpha
must’ve suspected that Bakugou had spent his heat with someone else then. Thanks to
Shouto's bold statement gaining some false clarity, suspecting the worse.

“‘Cause he’s going to kill you,” he summed helpfully, wiping away the tears. “And there’s no
point in questioning the words of the dead.”

He didn't even feel sorry for him - he brought it upon himself by acting stupid without the
slightest of Bakugou’s help. Behaving rash, and so unlike Shouto, it somehow put Bakugou
at ease. Mostly because he has just fucked them both over royalty; in the process putting
himself on the same boat as Bakugou. Ensuring, he was ready to not only sail with him for
now on, but would also probably go down with him in the end too, if needed.

“Let’s go then, before I change my mind.”

Neither of them would ever, but it felt good to say nonetheless.

They’re just stuck together for good. Bakugou could’ve thought worse.

They had wasted enough of time already, with Touya on his way over to fuck them dry,
having no other choice but to hurry the fuck up. In a great rush taking with them solely the
necessities and dashing out of Shouto’s apartment, only to almost throw the poor Enji off the
stairs as they ran into each other on the staircase one and a half steps later.

“Oh thanks fucking god!” Bakugou sighed with no small relief. “Your stupid son messed up,
and we should hurry the fuck up,” he added, shoving both him and his current minion
(following him around) aside to make his way through to the entrance.
“What do you mean by that?” Enji asked rather sceptically, yet did nothing in his power to
stop them from leaving; gesticulating at his companion to collect Shouto’s suitcase.

“He called Touya,” he reported back, having no mercy for the stupidity. Feeling only slightly
better as it made Shouto shudder; the guilt finally manifesting itself therein.

Sadly, Enji didn’t look even half as angry as Bakugou expected him to be, instead of
combusting just staring at them in a daze. “Is he aware of your condition?”

“No, but he’ll soon if we don’t hurry.”

Which was true, and brought some questionable relief to the man, but they did not discuss it
any further as he shushed them at once, in a remarkable speed leading them out to his car.
Probably just as eager as them to avoid any more complications; not expecting that situation
would unfold so much faster than predicted.

They barely even got there, when Shouto shoved Bakugou face down to the backseats.
Following him suit right after, as the other two men jumped to the seat in the front; just in
case covering his mouth before he even thought of screaming, outraged.

“Is that Touya?” he asked quietly. Too busy looking over his shoulder to mind Bakugou’s
offended stare. “It’d be impossible to get there in such a short time.”

“Not when you drive like him.”

“He must’ve violated at least some traffic regulations,” Shouto pondered. “Would explain
Aizawa trailing after him...”

That’s it. Bakugou deserved to take a peek. Wrestling out from under Shouto’s arm and
lifting slightly to have a proper look.

Braced, but somehow still not ready, for the sight of Touya. His fuming form storming past
the street straight to Shouto’s building complex, radianting with boiling rage. Once again, the
three months of separation felt like forever, and his heart skipped a beat, before squeezing
painfully, ready to break free from his ribcage...

He looked strong, and potent, and Bakugou’s inner omega whined loudly, before he as much
as realised that he did too, aloud. With shame hot under his skin blushing furiously and
threatening Shouto to mind his own fucking business.

“Your smell starts to pissing me off,” Shouto scowled and Bakugou did just the same in a
response.

“Then piss off.”

It wasn’t his fault he wanted to jump Touya. Same as it wasn’t Shouto fault that his instinct
took it as a direct offense, ready to assert some dominance. “You’re pregnant already. Tune
down your hormones or something.”
He would, biting hard on Shouto’s bare throat for the blood to sober him up, if not for Enji
sighing heavily from the front seat.

“Kids those days,” he groaned to himself, before addressing them directly. “At least he didn’t
jump out of the car,” he noted, starting the engine. “Now, do not give him a chance, shall
we?”

And so they drove, leaving Touya and the remains of Bakugou’s life behind.

He should've felt relieved but still, it stung when he breathed, and so he tried to focus on
something else. Things that bothered him for example. “Is Touya under observation?”
Bakugou asked Enji. Trying to keep the anger out of his voice, but failing rather swiftly.

“For several months now,” he confirmed. “Not by detective Aizawa personally, but he likes
to take over from the time to time.”

It seemed almost personal, and Bakugou couldn’t help but give Shouto a very telling look.
“Why is your senpai targeting your brother?”

Somehow, it didn’t seem as the first time someone had asked him just that, “Not because
we’re related, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he pointed out. „But it may have something to
do with him kidnapping people to torture them in a shady warehouse. You know, being
yakuza, and all that.”

Despite Shouto’s sassiness and Enji’s coolness, Bakugou had a really bad feeling about it.

“It’s a first-degree trespassing,” Aizawa noted conversational, from the doorstep observing as
Dabi demolished a coffee table in a single fit of fury. “And that's damage to property.”

He didn’t even get to threaten him with imprisonment before he was grabbed and pushed
onto the wall, his head slamming against it with a loud thud. The sheer force of it's enough to
give him a proper concussion if he really did care.

“My mate just went missing. Forgive my bad manners.”

Not exactly ‘mate’, he wanted to retort but refrained from doing so, aware of other Alpha’s
touchy condition. He barely held back, clenching his (already rumpled) shirt with far more
strength than necessary to just keep him in place, and honestly? Aizawa didn’t want to get
crushed instead - it’d be too much of a bother for both parties.

“Oh, is that so?” he asked alternatively, voice dull. “Do you want to report it?”

Dabi appeared to consider it briefly, before snorting. “No, thanks. My brother’s a kidnapper
and he works for you. What’s the use of police then?”
Which made Aizawa’s eyebrows shot up; the genuineness of his reaction to the statement
alone was enough to assure Dabi he wasn’t involved in this at least. And that maybe he
should not abuse his kindness any further, finally letting him go.

“Besides, I don’t want you or your fellow dogs anywhere near it when I finally get my hand
on that little punk.”

“Regardless of your opinion on the law enforces, you could avoid implying the homicide
while talking to the Detective. Or I may feel obligated to lock you up nevertheless.”

When these significant, truly incriminating evidence had somehow always ended up missing,
all that left for them, earnest police officers, was to cling to those trivial and minor ones. As
long as they’d help secure them all behind the bars, Aizawa resolved not to be picky.

“I’m not implying anything, Dear Detective,” Dabi answered darkly. Instantly sending a
shiver down Aizawa’s spine.

Not a hint but a promise then.

The poor kid would get himself killed, Aizawa came to conclusion, but decided to leave it for
now on; while it remained nothing but still empty threats. They didn’t pay him to mingle
between yakuza members after all - only to clean up after their messes, and hope they’d
somehow bring them down itself.

“Fine then,” he dismissed then. “But you’re still getting a speeding ticket. Better pay your
fine if you don’t want to end up in jail.”

He would eventually, but today Aizawa felt particularly generous.

And the fact that Todoroki was acting extra scary had nothing to do with this, at all.
 Stages I
Chapter Summary

The first stages of Bakugou's pregnancy — basically him and Shouto being freaking
lovey-dovey.

Chapter Notes

God, it's been a while. A long, long while in fact👀

Muchas gracias, amigos, for those of you still sticking around.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Dabi’s pursuit and the adrenaline rushing through their veins made it all too easy to forget
that he wasn’t the only one to be cautious of here. Not when they’re trapped in the one car
with the Father of the largest organized crime syndicate in Japan, currently chilling in the
front passenger seat as if it was just another Tuesday for him - sneaking around and helping
his youngest lad to elope with Omega that wasn’t even his, claiming no blame for the tantrum
thrown in a response by his eldest son in broad daylight. Undisturbed, or rather more
absorbed, with different things.

For example, the possibility of scolding both Bakugou and Shouto like a pair of particularly
disobedient children.

They didn’t even get to brace themselves as he turned around to face them, with displeasure
clear as day.

“‘Do not get out. Sit tight and wait for me.’ - Was it truly too much to ask of you?” Enji
asked. Barely getting started with it. “Foolish brats. Are you that eager to get caught?”

Bakugou might have thought about it once or twice but hadn’t really acted on it yet, and so
refused to take blame for this fiasco. For once shutting his mouth, by chance leaving a
vacuum for Shouto to fill in. Forgetting that more often than not it wasn’t such a good idea to
allow him to speak at all.

“We ‘sat tight and waited’. But you had never told us that using our mobile phones was
prohibited,” The Favourite Son had spoken and Enji absently wondered if it was already too
late to reach out to Natsuo once again.
It wouldn’t be worth it as he disowned him for a reason, and so Enji dismissed that thought at
once.

“Oh? I appear to be one at fault then,” he almost purred, receiving a worried side-glance from
his subordinate. “Allow me to correct my mistakes then - your mobile phones. Hand them
over.”

Honestly, the request itself wasn’t surprising at all, not to say quite late. Reasonably reducing
the chances of any more potential missteps, and so for once Bakugou coped accordingly,
obeying without batting an eye. With Touya’s number safely etched in his memory basically
giving no damn and treating it just as a formality.

On the contrary to Shouto, who seemed to only linger the inevitable. With a deep sigh fishing
his phone out of the pocket before checking it for the very last time; smiling faintly while
reading something.

“I’m so loved,” he murmured, over his shoulder allowing Bakugou to catch a glimpse of still
popping up messages. “Isn’t the brotherly bond priceless?”

If you considered a very graphic threat of hunting him down like a dog and drowning him in
the nearest lake as proof of their closeness, sure, Shouto could’ve passed for Touya’s
favourite person then.

Enji appeared to disagree, in a flash jerking backward to literally wrestle out the phone from
Shouto’s grasp.

“Give it,” he snarled. Nearly crushing it in his bare hands alone. “I’m just going to confiscate
that, thank you very much.”

‘Confiscate’ his ass - he could’ve easily guessed they won’t be seeing them ever again.

“From now on, any form of contact between the two of you and Dabi is strictly forbidden. Be
good and don’t cause any more trouble,” Enji warned. A threat creeping into his voice in
advance of addressing Shouto specifically; lingering in the air until they could’ve almost
tasted it on their tongues. “Don’t force my hands, son. I’d take no pleasure in hurting your
brother to keep you safe.”

The safe house wasn’t something Bakugou intended to dwell on, as more than just a regular
summer house it resembled a fucking palace, and despite Bakugo’s secret fondness of the
luxury he hated it already.

‘Your new home’ was what Enji called it, beaming with understandable pride. Acting like a
self-proclaimed goddamned fairy mother about to change Cinderella's life for the better.
Overlooking Bakugou’s clear need to just drown in misery; gloomy and depressed. Without
an 18 by 36 foot pool — big enough to be sufficient for a family of eight people — to ease
his agony.
Why had they even interfered with his sadness?

Wrinkling up his nose he decided they would not. Leaving no doubt about his displeasure;
with a loud slam of the door leaving the comparably shocked men inside the car, ditching
them without much more than a growl. Making it as clear as humanly possible they’d better
leave him alone for now.

“So moody,” Enji grunted. Taking it for a common occurrence when omegas were involved.
Already turning his full attention to Shouto. “Right. You got a promotion.” Instantly putting
him in a similar to Bakugou’s, sour mood.

Mocking the law enforcement wasn’t something Shouto took kindly to. No matter how
unintentional Enji’s actions may have been, he always spoke down of his career path; just
then literally throwing into his face how insignificant he considered his job to be. Having no
faintest respect for those he could’ve easily paid off; probably doing just that - bribing the
majority of the main police’s department in Tokyo, only to threaten and blackmail the rest of
them into obedience. Not even bragging, but simply showing he had them all into his pocket,
within twenty minutes of a car ride and a few exchanged messages providing him with the
promotion for which Shouto would have to work his ass off for the next couple of years at
least.

“Congratulations, you work undercover now. Coming in handy when you’re a fugitive. Treat
it as a well-paid vacation, Son.”

And maybe he could’ve related to Bakugou's sudden annoyance too.

Pregnancy: 3,5th month

The “feel good” trimester.

They may have moved in not so long ago yet Bakugou seemed to have no problem adjusting.
Not to the whole situation per se, presumably denying and rejecting anything going further
than just his pregnancy (the loss of Touya, the inevitable change of pace, the possible future
ahead of them - they had spoken of it only briefly, if not at all); but otherwise copying quite
well. In everyday situations facing enough of everyday problems not to seek additional ones
willingly...

Or that was what Shouto would’ve liked to say in a perfect world, where life was easier and
Bakugou wasn’t the most stubborn creature ever to be alive.

He was being difficult on purpose, still bitter about the unfortunate phone call. In the
following days fully committing himself to actively avoiding Shouto, giving up on the
subtlety and simply running off whenever they accidentally bumped into each other at home.
Making it way harder than it frankly needed to be, refusing to move past their differences, in
the process driving both of them mad.
Shouto could have understood that - he blew up some things after all, calling Touya and
scratching the still fresh wounds. But there was a tricky and complex period awaiting them,
and he wanted to be of use. To ease at least some of Bakugou’s worries; in the current
situation set on becoming an actual support rather than just a ‘bloody nuisance’, as his
charming now-a-roommate liked to call him. Not to only atone for his past mistakes but
mostly, with two extra lives on the stake, motivated to do it right.

So, firstly, he needed to apologize.

Then, they could kiss and make up. Finally moving along with pettiness and proceeding to
the important matters. Like a pair of grown-ups about to become parents should; getting their
lives in order.

“I do believe it’s unhealthy,” Shouto commented without truly meaning to. One morning
accidentally running into Bakugou while he raided the kitchen cabinets, seeing the
opportunity and seizing it on the spur of the moment. Completely forgetting about the Step
One, instead of apologizing, taking advantage of Bakugou’s distraction to corner him with a
half unpacked chocolate bar shoved into his mouth, and two others clutched in his hands.
“And it’s not only about your questionable choice of breakfasts. All of your meals raise some
concerns, Bakugou.”

Shouto was not being petty, at least not this time around - he was truly concerned. For the
past week observing Bakugou sneaking around to not only snack, but to fully replace the
normal food with sweets. Leaving Shouto utterly speechless as soon as he took in the whole
absurdity of Bakugou’s actions, because of his persistent avoidance catching on it way too
late for anyone’s good.

It was a taboo subject he intended to break - the sooner the better. “Your condition’s already
poor.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re obese. Not in your normal chubby way.”

Bakugou must have known it was wrong and did him no good. Still, he was as obstinate as a
mule and did everything within his power to stay that way.

“When exactly have I asked for your opinion, you Noisy-Pry?” Bakugou sneered. “‘Gradual
weight gain is a positive sign of a healthy pregnancy.’,” he quoted with a triumphant smile,
trying to bypass him.

Running away from a fight he possibly couldn’t win.

Only to collide with Shouto's chest as he followed suit. “That, or just a proof you’ve been
living on junk food for the past months,” he parried at once, looking him over critically. “Oh,
I’m sorry, I may have exaggerated - not even junk food, because it’s food in the end. You
prefer sweets these days, don’t you, Bakugou? Smuggling them into your nest when
convinced I’m not looking.”
He saw the wrappers scattered all around his bedroom floor. Would even gather them for
further reference if not for Omega doing all they could to keep him as far away from it as
possible. Hissing and growling whenever Shouto got too close to his nest (or a bloody fort to
be more accurate, having nothing in common with the normal ones), acting more like a
wounded animal than an actual human being. Turning the place into his den, denying anyone
the entry and hiding away under the numerous blankets. With none of them smelling quite
like Touya growing only more aggravated and savage.

Shit, now that he thought about it, Bakugou hadn’t coped even “fine”, did he.

“And so what if I do? I don’t drink, I don’t fuck. You cannot take away all the joy in my
life!”

Shouto has tended to forget that even since high school Bakugou was basically a drunkard. In
no funny way, leading to actual concerns and forcing them to undertake some serious steps...
Before his indulging managed to affect Touya too, and it all went to shit.

The minor inconvenience became a real problem, and of course his lewd brother had to make
everything even worse, turning Bakugou into a bloody sex maniac...

Honestly, Shouto couldn’t say if they were made for each other, or quite the opposite - should
be kept apart for all cost.

“Didn’t you like to cook, Bakugou?”

If his scowl was anything to go by, he may have hit the sore point. “I do — and I’m fucking
amazing at it, dipshit,” he bragged before his expression turned somehow sour. “It’s just that
it made me sick. No one likes to puke their gut out, you know?”

And Shouto felt stupid all of sudden because he had no idea.

He wasn’t compelled to know about morning sickness and nausea but still blamed himself for
not noticing sooner.

Especially as he has already forced Enji to cut off Bakugou’s supplies before it could get out
of hand completely.

He wasn’t wrong and far from regretting it but still chose to reach out to Bakugou first.
Making amends with ginger sweets, leaving a pack by Bakugou’s bedroom door every
second day, until Omega decided to come out eventually, bestowing Shouto with a small —
but full of gratitude — smile, he chose to indulge himself with. They weren’t on good terms
just yet but Shouto finally felt as if they were on the right path at least.

With time, they grew closer.

The change wasn’t sudden in itself (as no matter how hard Bakugou would try to deny it they
were friends for longer than was presumably healthy and recommended). In fact, the shift felt
natural, almost as if meant to happen, occurring too swiftly for Bakugou to even get a chance
to bitch about it first. It just happened - leading by the logical sequence of events; Shouto’s
care and basic kindness breaking through Bakugou’s defence, easing his avoidance and
turning the obvious coldness into something more favourable. Not friendly per se, but also no
longer plainly hostile, and that’s something Shouto could have actually worked with.

He was nagging, sure he was; probably even more than he actually should, going after
Bakugou’s one bad habit after another, but it made him appear invested and that’s something
pregnant Bakugou seemed to subconsciously seek, filling the gaps. Quietly letting Shouto in,
as if forgetting that to stay in character he should probably put up some fight first.

He was vulnerable and accepted him as a solace, getting attached to Shouto’s welcoming
arms.

“Oi, move,” Bakugou murmured somewhere from above, poking Shouto’s head. It lacked
strength and thus the conviction, and so Shouto decided to merely ignore it.

It’s hard to say when or why it started, but more often than not, Shouto found himself
napping on Bakugou’s stomach without the single care in the world. It was comfortable and
cosy, and Shouto just knew Bakugou craved for some basic human touch, so he let it play
once, then twice, until it became kind of the ritual between the two. Whenever he spotted that
Bakugou was aggravated over something (or nervous; or bothered; or simply bored) he
would crawl closer and just lay down there, pressing his face to the rather hard surface,
giving the Omega something else to focus on.

“I’m not your fucking pillow,” he grumbled. Doing nothing to actually remove Shouto off
himself. “Go to bed if you want to sleep.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Shouto.” Upon hearing his name Todoroki actually forced himself to open an eye and give
Bakugou a look. “I’m gonna kick your ass if you don’t move.”

He was doing him a favor but was still threatened to get the shit beaten out of him, and
couldn’t even quite point it out loud not to hurt the hormonal mess full of contradictions that
Bakugou currently was, and honestly — he was getting kinda used to it by now — balancing
on the very thin line between the (sort of) Content Bakugou and the (very) Crossed One.

“Sure,” he agreed. Convinced Bakugou needed it to continue far more than him either way.
“You can beat me all you want, honeybun. Beat the poor, whipped Alpha. I’ll still massage
your feet when you’re done, how does it sound?”

He didn’t intend to primarily but wasn’t opposed to the idea either. Kamiya had said that he
should help all he could after all, and Shouto realised that doing so wasn't as bad as he
originally assumed. In fact, honestly, he enjoyed taking care of Bakugou. Partly because it
generally confused the guy and Shouto found it beyond amusing, but mostly because he had
never truly got a chance to look out for him in the first place. Bakugou was nasty and bitter,
and Touya additionally brought out the worst in him, so seeing this new, exposed side of him
was actually a nice change of pace.

“You’re fucking weird!”

“Wait for your back to start to ache...”

“Whatever,” he snorted but Shouto could have told he gave in already.

Bakugou could protest all he wanted, bitching about every single thing Shouto did, but the
hand entangled into his hair didn’t lie - he may have pretended he wasn’t grateful or that he
didn’t care and wanted Shouto to root in hell, but no one could have hate the person’s guts
and still pet their head this gently.

Shouto got his friends back and for one selfish moment considered that maybe things could
have stayed that way forever.

“Thank you,” Bakugou said, no louder than a whisper.

And Shouto couldn’t help but wish they would.

Pregnancy: 4th month

“It aches! It kicks!”

“Backaches are inevitable while expecting - you can thank pregnancy hormones yet again!”
Kamiya exclaimed over the phone (that Shouto managed to somehow smuggle in), helpful as
always. Once again making Bakugou doubt his questionable life choices and the decision to
keep the man alive in the first place.

(There was a conversation between him and Shouto once, following something akin to:
“We need to kill him.”
“We won’t be killing anybody, Bakugou.”
“He knows shit. Knowing shit is dangerous so we WILL remove him.”
“Bakugou! We are not yakuza. We don’t kill people that helped us.”
“It’s just a bullet between the eyes, don’t be so fucking dramatic, Halfie.”
“For once, we don’t have time to sneak around and shoot random people because you’re
paranoid, Katsuki. For twice, I’m the bloody police officer - we won’t be killing anybody. End
of discussion!”)

So yeah, now that he thought about it, it was all Shouto bloody fault to begin with.

“An actual advice on how to deal with them would be nice,” Bakugou hissed. Angrily
knocking off Shouto’s outstretched hands because he was not having the fifteenth massage in
a bloody week.

“Including some physical activity in your daily routine may help.” Came the reply and
Bakugou disconnected the call at once.

The sneaky bastard. Bakugou would get his head sooner or later for always acting so damn
smug. With or (rather for sure) without Shouto’s approval.

Still, he sort of understood what everybody tried to tell him. Not because he gave a damn
about their opinions - it wasn’t anybody damn business how he looked as long as he felt fine,
but that’s just the case... he didn’t. In fact, he felt quite shitty for some time now. It got a bit
better as soon as the nausea ceased and he started to eat normal meals again, but his condition
wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even good to be honest, and Kamiya (filled in with everything by
Shouto bloody traitor) didn’t hesitate to point out that his pups wouldn’t really appreciate it
much if because of his unhealthy behaviour he would put them at risk of developing a long
term, irreversible health issues including obesity, raised levels of cholesterol and blood sugar,
and that’s the deal breaker.

Bakugou has regretted it already, deciding to pull himself together and do everything in his
power to get healthier than ever.

“Spar with me.”

Wasn’t that the best idea to just beat the fat out, with sweat (and Shouto’s tears?).

Apparently not for a man in question as he only sighed deeply, as if wounded. “I won’t hit a
pregnant person.”

“You won’t land a single punch, sucker!”

“I’d have you on the ground in ten seconds,” he stated. With such certainty that it made
Bakugou’s blood boil and he would love to take on that challenge, but he— he kinda got the
point. Not about taking him down — no way in hell! — but about it being potentially
dangerous for the pups. Even if Bakugou wanted nothing but to disagree. “Go swim or
something.”

“Kiss my ass, Zuko.”

Still, he may have tried it out eventually, and actually liked to spend his day in water, so had
to admit Shouto wasn’t that useless after all.

Another thing worth contemplation in the following months would be how the heck to get rid
of Enji, because it would not be a joke to say Bakugou considered a bloody murder on him at
least twenty times so far and better believe it, that’s the personal record even for Bakugou’s
violent tendencies.
The man wasn’t bad by definition - he didn’t harass them unnecessarily, popping in only with
the prior announcement and with a tolerable reason. But heavens, if Bakugou thought of him
as a bother while being with Touya (having to deal with the man’s ridiculousness; his never
ending pep talks about the proper order, the family and the necessity of “producing the future
successors” as if Bakugou was nothing more than a broodmare) he couldn’t have suspected
how awful would it be with Shouto at his side.

Because dear lord, to put it bluntly he was a man thirsty for Shouto’s love, attention and most
importantly - happiness, and so Bakugou’s worst nightmare dressed in Brioni’s brand new
suit. With each dragging out visit bearing gifts and another exclusive headache just for him.

“Allow me to speak to them,” Enji declared during his next visit. Instructing more than
actually asking, and Bakugou tensed instantly.

Logically speaking he knew Enji wasn’t a danger to either him or his pups, but the fear inside
him had nothing to do with logic. It’s more primary than anything else; the hatred his loved
held for the man in front of him burning hot and fresh. It took root deep in Bakugou’s mind,
the memories of mistreatment, neglect and abuse screaming of the potential harm.

Do not let him speak to them!, howled the voice inside his head, sounding awfully similar to
Touya’s. Do not let him close!

He didn’t intend to in the first place and could have easily respected the warning of the voice,
already stepping back. More cautious than distress, in a fully protective mood, ready to bite
first, talk later, if the man tried anything funny.

Only to bump into Shouto back-straight. Scaring the shit out of himself because sometimes
he still managed to forget the Alpha followed him around like a shadow, never further than a
step away from him. Outside of Bakugou’s bedroom making sure to never let him out of his
sight (or precisely, the reach of his hands), surpassing the basic clinginess by the broad
margin.

“Bakugou,” he murmured. “I see no harm in that.”

Because you’re blind, he wanted to argue. Then, emphasize how Shouto’s broad chest
pressing against his back was a bloody issue too, before he caught himself, stopping dead in
his own track of thought.

“Whatever,” Bakugou choked out. Already freeing himself from the oppressive embrace to
move to another, wincing a little at the pure joy apparent on Enji’s face. “If I hear one foul
word leaving your dirty mouth I swear—”

“Naturally, naturally.” Enji interrupted him at once, bringing forth another wave of migraine.
Not like he even cared for his well-being, already coming closer, hovering over Bakugou for
a heart-stopping seconds before finally crouching right in front of him.

The whole thing’s more uncomfortable than Bakugou suspected anything should have ever
been.
 “Hello there little ones,” Enji almost purred and Bakugou’s insides twisted.

Then, the man leaned even closer, pressing his face to Bakugou’s belly, and he reached his
limits. Battling with his instincts, on the verge of just shoving him away and running back to
his nest, when the unexpected happened and he froze.

Which didn’t escape Shouto’s attention so he moved closer, approaching him very carefully.
“Bakugou? Everything's all right?” he asked. Abruptly alarmed by the wide open crimson
eyes.

He couldn’t utter a word to be honest, and so he stayed in complete stillness, scaring the life
out of Shouto before Enji came back to his senses first, bursting into laughter. The notably
loud and cheerful one, which would only worsen Shouto’s assumptions if not for the
following words, “The Little Devils! No mercy in those kicks, let me tell you!”

And Shouto was positively gaping now, because had he just said ‘kicks’?

“They moved?” he asked, amazed. Breaking Bakugou out of his trance.

“They moved,” Bakugou affirmed. Spinning around and gripping Shouto’s arms as if to hold
on him for his dear life. “My pups moved for the very first time to kick Enji in the face,” he
clarified.

It was hard to tell if the both of them were more proud or amazed.

Chapter End Notes

So this chapter went basically like:

Bakugou: “Why are you all that lovey-dovey with me?”
Shouto: “Kamiya is sending me tips about pregnancy. You need intimacy so I’m gonna
cherish you.”
Bakugou: “I feel sick.”
Shouto: “Morning sickness?”
Bakugou: “No, just your face.”
 Stages II
Chapter Summary

The rest of Bakugou's pregnancy (with some DabiBaku angst lurking around the corner
⌣
(•‾ ‾•))

Chapter Notes

👀
*author has no idea how exactly this chapter wrote itself, but felt blocked for some time,
and so here we are: moving ahead, but, like, not really .?. *

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Life wasn’t so bad, Bakugou came to realise after a while. It obviously wasn’t perfect either,
but what he meant was that with Shouto at his side, surprisingly, it became at least bearable.
Not as shitty as it could get, and so good enough for the moment. Jumping into this
PlayHouse, Bakugou hadn’t expected much. Some stability at best. Not to feel completely at
ease with Shouto’s eccentricity, seeking it out like it’s the most reasonable thing to do.

Shouto wasn’t a dangerous man by definition, with his stupid face and melancholic
personality.

No, he’d got you when you the least expected it, fucking with your brain and make you feel
as if you belonged.

Despite how full of shit he was, Bakugou wanted to actually believe him. Trust that in the
end everything would work out just fine. That he had nothing to worry about. With Shouto to
rely on, he wasn’t alone.

It was reassuring. Probably more than it should have been, but for once, for the sake of his
sanity alone, Bakugou didn’t dwell on it more than necessary.

It felt like a reconciliation, and while some part of Bakugou enjoyed the unforeseen serenity,
the other (broken and hideous) - loathed it deeply.

Being happy was easy it seemed - in this big house that wasn’t (and would never be) his.
With Shouto, despite the constant bickering between the two. With the prospect of having a
real, functional family, with a stranger to his love.

Being happy was easy it seemed, in these days ensuring so effortlessly it came close to
mocking.

With Touya, nothing ever appeared to be. Challenging? Sure. Painful? More often than not.
One obstacle after another; all along the way, for years.

Being happy... seemed like cheating.

Then again, Bakugou was doing better, and had two other people growing up inside him to
worry about, rather than self-sabotaging and denying himself the right to happiness. It may
have been too good to be true, but he was quite desperate to make it work. Like an adult (he
was gradually coming to terms that he was), taking the responsibility for his life and acting
accordingly.

No more running away. Being mature and all that.

He was ready to face the world.

Pregnancy: 5th month

Kicking up a storm.

He couldn’t sleep.

First, there were these dreams. Apparently, an actual manifestation of Bakugou’s desire to
drive himself mad. Full of flashing images, way too vivid for his liking. Initially shapeless,
with time changed to nothing as such. He could almost taste Touya at the end of his tongue
whenever he woke up; his salty skin after a particularly long day; the aftertaste of tobacco in
his breath and mouth. The flavour was bitter and despite his sugar-cravings Bakugou sought
it out nearly desperately.

However, living in fantasy could never possibly work for someone as down to earth as him.
Bakugou was too practical for that; pursuing what he could hold and trace with his fingers.
Never the one for wishful thinking, acting first, considering next.

Just like he did back then, in one of the following days barging into Shouto’s room to kiss
him stupid. On a whim, driven by the need to subdue what’s missed; to overcome or simply
forget, whenever would have worked at time.

(The silence spoke volumes for both of them. And if Shouto decided to kiss him back, with a
hand on Bakugou’s hip dragging him closer, it was clearly no one else's business.)
It wouldn’t do in the long run, rather quickly turning out to be not quite enough of a
distraction to put his mind off Touya. Shouto seemed concerned - he always did these days -
but mostly of his lack of sleep than his just as lacking involvement, so they’re good. He
didn’t push him any, only reproducing whichever Bakugou decided to give at the moment,
patiently tolerating his emotional turmoil.

Why he suddenly became a saint was beyond Bakugou, but even he could admit that in the
end Todoroki was a great buddy.

A great buddy he wanted to shag senselessly, and daaaamn, he may have had a problem.

His libido was killing him those days. The other pregnancy gain he never asked for and was
indeed considering a curse. It was a funny trait, really... To those in a different living situation
perhaps.

With a proper mate to tend to your every need, being horny 24/8 sounded like a delight. To
Bakugou who felt sick whenever Shouto’s hands began to wander - a nightmare. It would
appear that genetics was his newly acquired worst enemy. What normally assured of
Omegas’ safety during their sacred time, keeping any foreign Alpha at bait with the power of
their distress, worked against Bakugou now.

At the threat of puking, his own yet unborn children kept him cockblocked.

Wasn’t his life bloody hilarious?

It was not, he established less than a week later. Screaming his lungs out at sight welcoming
him in his bedroom. A very furious, and very purple silicon toy left at his bed by Shouto
(good, damned Shouto; trying to be helpful by doing shit he was never asked to), that
Bakugou despised with every fiber of his being.

“Fuck you!” he yelled into space. Expecting no particular reply.

Even then, it came back right away, with Shouto cheerfully announcing from some other
room, “No, fuck you, Bakugou!”

The gall he had...

“Have some fun and stop being grumpy!” he added after a solid pause, sounding no sorry at
all.

Making Bakugou rage a full day before he allowed himself to even consider that maybe, in
the end, it wasn’t such an awful option.
 Pregnancy: 6th month
You’re an emotional mess, baby.

Missing you comes in waves.

Today
I’m drowning

He didn’t intend to. Shit, he probably surprised himself just as much as he did Shouto, acting
completely out of control. His actions were clearly irrational; he could tell after time. Caused
by hormones going haywire every each while, reducing him to nothing but a sheer emotional
mess.

A mess missing its partner; its mate; its Alpha.

Loneliness was a bitch, and Bakugou felt it right. Was he being over-dramatic? Probably. Did
he care at all? No way. He knew he couldn’t go back and didn’t dream to hope. No, he just
wanted... Something. Yeah, all he wanted was anything at all. His voice for instance. God, he
would kill to hear Touya’s voice once again. This hoarse yet melodic voice, whispering sweet
nothing into Bakugou’s ear whenever given the chance. How it significantly lowered both as
when he planned a bloody murder and when he promised Bakugou a ride to heaven. How
much love and affection it carried within...

Fuck it. It was a stupid idea, but it didn’t stop him from going rouge at the time.

(...all he ever wanted was to just hear his voice...)

Same as it did nothing to prevent him from stealing Shouto’s backup phone from his bedside
cabinet while he went out for his morning jog. No, he buried himself under the pile of
blankets and dialled the familiar phone number just fine, thank you very much.

It didn’t connect right ahead, putting an additional strain on Bakugou’s already frayed nerves.
He had held his breath still, listening to the soft beeping in complete silence. With every
passing second growing more aggravated than nervous, considering that maybe, that’s it.
That he should probably just let go and finally move on like he promised. That it was meant
to be, and Dabi no longer even bother to pick up his damned phone doing god knows what,
with god knows who--

Suddenly, the call came through, shocking Bakugou into silence.

It was mostly quiet for a while, all words leaving him at once - What was he expecting,
calling in the first place? Was there something he even wanted to say? He couldn’t
remember! - before Touya’s voice thundered on the other side.
Deep, low, and god, so so angry.

“What?” he growled as if personally offended by the call itself. “Make it quick.”

The admission was the hardest part, Bakugou determined, coughing lightly to give himself
some extra time to gather courage necessary to pour his heart out like that. It was so unlike
him, but Touya’s patience was always wearing thin so there’s no point in stalling
unnecessary. He didn’t want him to hang up on him after all.

(...just a little more...)

“I missed you,” Bakugou uttered. The words freeing something inside him, making him feel
weak all of a sudden. “I missed you so much it hurt.”

Something throbbed. His lungs burned and he lost a breath, overwhelmed by something till
then he never came to even think about. It ached, forcing the air out of him, and so he gasped
softly, trying to collect himself. Still, the pain didn’t go away, demanding release Bakugou
wasn’t very eager to give. Clenching his jaw so forcefully it made his teeth clash, keeping the
noise hidden deep within, where they belonged.

He would not cry over something like this.

“Who are you?” The question came and Bakugou choked on spit rather than tears. “You
know that? Doesn’t matter. Another whiny little bitch... We fucked? Great, now get over it,”
he carried on. Unbothered, or rather simply bored by the whole exchange. “I don’t care about
you. I don’t even know who you are. Capiche? Now move on with your life and don’t bother
to call me again.”

He hung up. After his completely one-sided talk, Touya sealed his monolog by hanging up on
him, with a scowl perfectly heard even over the line.

Bakugou didn’t expect that. He didn’t expect a lot of things regarding this conversation but
gave himself no time to think it through, hitting the “call again” button so hard it actually hurt
his finger.

“Hello?”

“Touya—” he merely began when a sob shook his entire body before he could do as much as
to try to stop himself.

Bakugou was just so pissed it actually made him feel helpless.

He didn’t call to fight. He just wanted to talk... Being attacked for no apparent reason was as
far away from that as one can get. Obviously it would mess with his, for the time being, frail
state.

“Touya,” he tried again, collecting a long breath. “I just want to talk civilly. Fine with that?”

Name it a soft approach. Bakugou didn’t want to come on too strongly from the very
beginning, expecting Touya to regard it as at least tolerable, if not a great, idea. He was a big
softie himself after all, and Bakugou just knew how to work with that.

He was positive, expecting almost anything but silence that followed suit, making him
suspicious (as Dabi lacked any tact at all). And so, with another calming breath he removed
the mobile device from his face, checking connection. Only to realise Touya had probably
never heard a word leaving his mouth in the first place; putting the phone down as soon as he
grasped he happened to accidentally answer it once again, instead of just shutting the thing
down, as intended.

Stood me up, huh?, Bakugou thought, despite it all smiling to himself.

They could play that game too.

It was a busy afternoon, during an even busier month, of an absolutely fuck-up year.

Dabi’s mood was bad itself as it was, without any additional boosters. Then, he got a phone
call from a clingy whore who apparently forgot their place, and could anyone really blame
him for being nasty?

Nah, they wouldn’t dare either way, he resoluted, ignoring the very pointed side-glances Higa
kept throwing his way. The man was just outdated, disapproving of most of Dabi’s recent
behaviour. He was especially critical over his latest bunch of conquests (frowning whenever
he did as much as dare to bring a stranger home), never holding back from throwing his
objections straight in Dabi’s face.

Acting more like his father than Enji ever did.

Parenting a future yakuza’s boss like it’s nothing; yet currently, for once in his life struggling
with the range of Dabi’s emotions. In recent months unable to grasp them properly; not to
even speak of coping accordingly.

Dabi couldn’t really blame him; truly, knowing better than anyone just how badly the
“parting” with Bakugou fucked up with his head. Yet still, he would prefer if the man got a
memo already and leave him the hell alone with all his bad choices.

He wasn’t a kid anymore. He could clean up after his own fuck-ups.

Or so he thought, until Higa's phone started to ring (startling the crap out of Dabi, because it
would be the first call - like literally - ever, that took place in his presence). It never happened
before as the Old Man kept this number strictly work related, and considered answering it
into Dabi presence plainly inappropriate.

He had to actually allow him (or more likely order) to take it, for man not to outrightly ignore
it.

It surely was intriguing as not many would have dared to contact Dabi’s right hand without
minding the protocol a damn bit, so he automatically assumed it must be Enji. After all, Satan
did hide himself from him for quite some time now, playing a game Dabi couldn’t grasp just
yet; and would it make a perfect sense if he just got an accomplice into his inner circle?

Wrong. As far as he could tell from wrinkles forming between Higa’s eyebrows, it wasn’t it.
The man was a stoic, and Dabi had no doubt that he would play him as such, if it was truly
his intention to begin with. To appear this startled, something fairly serious must have
happened, and Dabi couldn’t wait to find out what.

Especially as the man started to fidget, determined to avoid eye contact.

“What’s going on?”

“I—” Was all he managed to get out before blinking rapidly over something said by the
phone. “Boss. It’s for you,” he resumed, handing over the device. “My apologies.”

He didn’t even have to wonder what Higa was sorry about, finding out right away, with a
scream loud enough to damage his eardrums.

“You rotten, pompous asshole!” Shout his love. Bringing an instant smile upon his face.

“Suki,” he acknowledged. Fondness creeping into his voice almost instantly. “Long time no
hear. To what do I own—”

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Bakugou cut him off. Harshly. “You’re a pig. Man-whore.”

“Now now, don’t be rude.”

“Trying to act polite? Too fucking late for that!” Why was he even angry in the first place
was beyond Touya but he never got a chance to utter it aloud. No, Bakugou seemed
motivated to let him know either way. “So what, you’re screwing random bitches now? Is
that it?”

Well... he kinda was.

Using strangers to warm his suddenly cold bed. Determined to win back at least some of the
warmth. Rather bitter about the last two rut he had to spend alone; with Bakugou god knew
where.

Not like it was the mentioned culprit business at all.

“Suki,” Dabi chided. “Enough.”

“Enough? Go fuck yourself, Touya. No, better - just die.”

The whole conversation seemed just pointless. Quite absurd, to be honest. But it was the first
form of contact they had in months, and Dabi needed to at least try to reach him, before
Bakugou would ghost him again.

“Where are you?”

He should have suspected it would get him no valid answers. “‘Where are you?’” Bakugou
mimicked, lowering his voice to the same dangerous murmur. “‘Sometimes I wonder.
Between all the screwing I’m doing, obviously’”.

If he was trying to get a reaction out of Dabi... he didn’t have to work half as hard.

No, he was on the very verge of ‘a breakdown/ collapsing/ bursting into flames/tears/ starting
a screaming match’ for almost a year now. He was more than ready to do this right then and
there.

“Listen here, you little shit,” Touya growled. At once losing all patience. “First, you go off
radar for half a year. Then, you dare to blame me for shit?”

His lower lip sting. He must have bruised it by accident, with his own fangs.

“We’re not playing this game. Not this time. Tell me where the hell are you.”

“Fuck you,” Bakugou spat. Weirdly excited by Touya’s demanding tone. “Pretending to be
such a big, bad Alpha.”

“I’m both big and angry. So don’t test me Bakugou, or I swear, I’ll make you cry.”

Shit, he didn’t mean it. Not really. But Bakugou whimpered all the same; weakly and
deliciously desperate. Acting out of his head yet doing nothing to prevent Touya from his
own, unreasonable thoughts. God, he wanted him. Always wanted him.

“You’ve been so bad lately, Suk. Such a bad Omega,” he hummed. Despite himself giving in
to the familiar routine in no time. “Acting so poorly... You made your Alpha sad, you know?
How disappointing.”

Another whimper, more pitched and miserable. His clue to continue.

“What should I do with you?” Touya asked. ‘What do you want me to do?’ was what he
meant.

“Find me,” Bakugou uttered. Entirely beaten. Holding back another ugly sob. “Find me,
diskhead, and prove I was wrong to begin with.”

Back then, they were both in their twenties. In different stages, yet each having their fair
share of experiences and outcomes. Still, Shouto’s ghost could have sworn that they seemed
to never learn; despite all the blood and gore in their lives tending to act just as innocent and
stupid as a pair of teens.

“Wait for me,” Dabi begged quietly.

Listening to the broken connection for about five more seconds, before fetching Higa out of
the other room and storming out to the streets; ready to convince the whole bloody world
about his rights.
(Bakugou on the other hand needed twice as much, with ragged breath repeating the weirdest
exchange of his life. Absorbing and releasing just how badly had he fucked up. With shaking
hands breaking (yet another) phone, dropping it on the floor. Set on sweeping the whole thing
under the rug and pretending as if nothing had ever happened at all.)

Seeing how peaceful the past couple of months have been Bakugou might have lowered his
guard a little. Not expecting that one day the feeling of something being amiss would have
literally stirred him from sleep.

His (still heavy from a recent nap) mind may have some problem with comprehending the
situation right, but his racing up heart seemed to work just fine, in a mere seconds bringing
him into full awareness. Something didn’t match up. He couldn’t move. Completely
immobilized with an additional weight on him, that for a damn sure wasn’t there the last time
he checked before falling asleep. Shouto wouldn’t dare to snuck up on his like that - there
were boundaries neither of them would cross; Bakugou’s nest was his Omega’s safe space -
but it was only the two of them there; they were alone; just the two-

Bakugou’s breath hitched and he froze, paralyzed. Heavy fragrance of smoke flooding up his
mind.

Touya was here.

“Wakie wakie.” A voice murmured. Indulged despite Bakugou’s dread. “Let me see you.”

It wasn’t a command yet Bakugou’s eyes snapped open at once. With disbelief taking in
Touya’s face, barely inches away from his own. The dark circles under his stormy-blue eyes,
slightly furrowed brow and mouth set in a grim line. He looked tired but made Bakugou’s
heart flutter with poorly restrained delight all the same.

To say he’s attractive would be an understatement.

Touya’s bloody gorgeous. Even when he’s about to fuck you over. In no funny way.

“Why so anxious?”

Did it only worsen his unease, instinctively forcing his hands to lower themselves and
embrace his bulged belly? Sure hell it did. Making him feel more exposed than via the years
of relationship; vulnerable in the face of inevitable.

Touya would realise. He would learn about his pregnancy.

He would know.

And he would never leave him alone, ever again.

“Why’re you here?”

“‘Cause you called for me,” he said.

Rubbing his nose against Bakugou’s own, who responded without even realising it at the
time, before snapping himself out of it just as fast. “I did not. I called you.”

“The same thing.” Came a response. “You wanted me - I came. Simply as that.”

He brought this one upon himself. It came without a need to realise and Bakugou just knew
it’s probably the reason why he kept silent about the whole thing from the start, instead of
overreacting and warning Shouto of what he has done right away.

He gave in. He yielded; expecting it may as well turn that way.

He was a mess.

“I’m sorry,” Bakugou breathed. Already half-way into kissing him. “I’m so so sorry.”

They clashed, too forceful to call it a sweet act. Crashing into each other like two planes a
moment before disaster. All teeth and tongue; equally greedy to just take, and take, and take.

Bakugou loved it.

Touya’s hands cupping his face, the lack of breath, their bodies flushed together.

He loved it all.

“Shhh,” reassured a voice. Bringing to his attention that he must have started to weep
somehow along the way. “I’m here, Bakugou.”

“You’re lying,” Bakugou hissed. Not really meaning to; more shocked with his own outburst
than Touya himself. “Shit. I don’t know—”

“I’m here.”

Maybe he was just overdramatic. Suddenly acquiring emotions and all that. Forgetting that
thinking too much never worked for them. They acted. Blindly throwing themselves into
things. Oblivious to consequences. Desperate to make it work.

“Touya,” he called.

It was too late either way. Bakugou could have tried to kick him out and shut the door in his
face, yet he would have never got rid of him for good. Not now, that he knew everything. It’s
out there. No more secrets. There’s no more point in running away.

So instead, he decided to just hold onto him like he should have had from the start.

“Hold me,” he begged. Hiding his face into the curve of Touya’s neck. “Just hold me.”
He should probably have realised it was too good to be true.

But he did not. Waking up with a soft knock on his bedroom door.

“Bakugou?” Shouto inquired. Peeking in from the doorway. “Are you alright? You made
some strange noises just now...”

Fuck. Where was he again? He needed a moment to collect his thoughts...

Apparently not so relevant to Shouto whose eyes widened as he put two and two together,
simply carrying on on his own, “Oh. Were you having a wet dream?”

Like a high schooler, hung in the air. Unspoken yet clear with Shouto's shit-eating grin.

Even if he was, Shouto would be the last person on the planet he wanted to indulge with this
fact.

Bakugou may have not been in his right mind, but one he knew for a damn sure.

One day, he would kill that bastard.

“GET OUT!”

It all went to hell soon after - Bakugou withdrew without an apparent reason, cutting Shouto
off like the last months meant nothing to begin with. Their friendship had been through
worse, but as it came out of blue, it still hurt as bitch. Not just a cold shoulder, but Bakugou’s
generally subdued behavior. He stopped reacting. Impassive to most, but Touya’s name.

Kamiya called it normal, but Shouto could tell he wasn’t so sure either. Bad blood or not,
Bakugou was as far from fine as one could get.

Then, the babies were born, and suddenly it all made sense.

“I wanna go home,” Bakugou said.

Sparing Shouto no second glare, even as the little girl in his arms started crying pitifully, with
her tiny hands reaching out to her mother. Desperately seeking the warmth of Bakugou’s
heated body, who refused to even acknowledge her very existence, stubbornly staring at the
opposite wall.

“Bakugou,” Shouto pleaded helplessly. Doing everything in his power to keep her twin from
following her suit. “Don’t you want to hold them?”
 He knew he was kidding himself. It struck him as soon as the girl was born; with her large
blue eyes boring a hole into his very soul. Then, soon after her brother had joined her -
bearing just the same piercing blue.

They not only resembled their father - with their pale complexions and black as smoke hairs.

They looked just like Touya. And Bakugou couldn’t stand it.

He regretted it. Regretted everything.

Why wouldn’t they just let him go home?

Chapter End Notes

• So, Bakugou had a dream that hit him hard... give a guy some slack ;;

⌣
• Dabi’s nice to Katsuki and Katsuki alone ╮(╯ ╰)╭ Nothing we can do about that.
[Still, he kinda fucked up not recognizing his honey so now he’s gonna pay (and I find it
hilarious - like, sorry mate, you’re gonna suffer so badly XD)]
 Backfire
Chapter Summary

Enji's supposed to be a mastermind behind it all. To plot and conspire, seizing the power.
Not to watch as things backfire, coming back to bite him in the ass.

Chapter Notes

Basically: Enji got a plan. Bakugou, Touya and Shouto don't appreciate.

Somewhere along six months of his pregnancy Bakugou confronted Enji - who just happened
to visit them back then, like he did every second week - with firmness that, unexpectedly, put
the old man on the spot.

“How’s Touya?” he asked, crawling in. Body language’s stiff and closed.

They weren’t really on speaking terms with each other. Honestly, they barely managed to act
civil while in the same room, without Shouto fussing around for them to get it together. They
encountered some difficulties in finding a common ground and bringing up Dabi wasn’t the
best way to settle them.

Not to mention him, was one of the ground rules. Enji made sure to make it as clear as
possible beforehand, and did not appreciate having to repeat himself. Especially when it did
not come out of a simple misstep but with clear intent. He had eyes and knew how to use
them just fine.

And what he saw, he saw crystal clear - Bakugou was wavering. On the verge of something
Enji feared from the very beginning; antsy, probably tired, and quite desperate. His omega’s
side coming to light, about to fuck Shouto over if Enji didn’t prevent it in time, nipping any
doubts in the bud.

If he was a parasite Enji’s determined to at least make sure he would not switch his hosts that
easily, paying his price and sticking with Shouto until the day he dies.

“He’s hospitalised,” Enji mused. Hiding his amusement all to himself. “The usual shift of
power within the Family. Became bloody this time around.”

“Wha— Hospitalised?”
Despite his question Bakugou seemed not to expect that at all. Asking more of mere curiosity
than to acquire some actual answers. Finding out more than he seeked; shuddering without
realising it at the time.

Which didn’t really escape Enji’s attention as had addressed it right away, “It’s such a
dangerous world that we live in. Glad at least you’re safe for a time being,” he said. With one
heavy hand on Bakugou’s shoulder snapping him out of his thoughts. “You and your little
ones.”

Then, as if it’s just a second thought added, “The less you concern yourself the better he
gets.”

Was it a warning, threat or plain reminder - Bakugou couldn’t decide. At least until Enji’s
facial expression changed into something grave; helping him realise it was probably partly all
three above.

“Bury the past, Bakugou. Bury it, or I’ll do it for you.”

There was a time when Bakugou assumed he was purely Touya’s weakness. Now that he
learned he may have been one of Dabi’s as well, he felt sick. He made him vulnerable - and
the blood was spilled. Open for a strike - and they went against him. His family was plotting
behind his back, helping Bakugou out. If Inferno turned against him too because Bakugou
left him, Touya would have to face them all... Alone.

Could he even trust anybody? Didn’t they hurt him already? His blood and his acquaintances.
Who were they to put him through the pain? Who was Bakugou? He did the same after all,
didn’t he? Piercing his heart worse than a knife ever could.

They didn’t deserve him. Neither did he.

All of a sudden, Bakugou wanted to erase them all.

“Don’t fucking test me, Old Man,” he warned. Ruby eyes shining brightly with mania.
“Threaten him once more and I’ll wipe you off the face of the earth,” he promised next.
Invading Enji’s personal space to lean closer and snare straight in his face. “Are we fucking
clear?”

He was glorious...

Made to be a yakuza’s bride. Yakuza’s wife, Enji’s mind implied before he shushed it down.
For a split of treacherous moments considering it all a mistake. Dabi needed someone by his
side. Someone strong and reliable. Omega, differing from the rest of its kind. Mate fierce
enough to not bring him down. Able to keep up with him, and fight for him if necessary.

Bakugou proved himself suitable enough already. Differences aside, they could probably still
make it work. They just needed a push to sort it out properly.
“One such dainty yet with mouth so foul,” Enji sighed. Moving faster than Bakugou could
think, seizing his face in an iron grip. “Don’t mistake my kindness, Bakugou,” he warned. “I
respect your condition. But you’re not untouchable. I could crush you easily if I truly wanted
to.” That being said, he playfully squeezed his cheeks, staking the claim. Fingers digging into
soft flesh before finally letting Bakugou go, with a push sending him a few steps back.
“Provoke me and I assure you - this family will get smaller. One way or another.”

He could help them set it all right. He could, but didn’t really want to. Being no matchmaker
to involve himself more than he had to. It was bothersome and Enji didn’t feel like it. He
could, for Shouto. But those two? He found them intolerable. If possible, even worse while
together. Providing that, for all he cared, if it made them even a little bit miserable they could
just rot separately for an eternity.

Especially if Bakugou continued to glare at him as if he had just killed his cat.

It was his internal pondering about the matter and they might have not discussed it outright
but Enji didn’t feel even slightly convinced by Bakugou’s alleged argumentation, and so
moved past it without further ado.

Enji lied. He lied because Touya was nothing but good, drinking away his liver on cheap
whiskey like he had actually tried to end up in hospital.

Enji lied. Because there’s no way he was omnipotent and could foretell the future - no matter
what people tend to believe. He lied back then, with ease sowing a seed of doubt in
Bakugou’s mind, regaining control over a situation gradually getting out of hand.

He intended to discourage Bakugou from reaching out to Touya. Not to literally bring
misfortune upon his eldest son, recklessly spurring some words.

It all started when Takami Keigo stormed into Enji’s office one day; manners long forgotten.
He never knocked, true, but mostly at least pretended to mind some basic protocol and didn’t
barge in there as if owned the place. Enji could, should, get his whipped for that to remind
him that he wasn’t supposed to do that whenever he liked, unless there was an actual
emergency.

Unexpectedly, it seemed that some urgent had, in fact, emerged.

“Higa’s been shot,” he choked out as Enji opened his mouth to reproach him. “He’s hurt.
Dying. God, he could’ve been dead already.”
Morita Higa. He used to work directly under Enji before he allocated him to Dabi sometime
around the boy's sixth birthday. He could be a great asset to Enji’s plans if not for his undying
loyalty; now fully dedicated to the young master.

He started to babble so Enji shushed him with a raise of hand. “What happened?”

“There was a clash,” Takami answered. Already moving along as Enji motioned him to
follow him out. “Things got chaotic. Don’t know much.”

“Is Dabi alive?”

It was essential. If his heir got assassinated they had to work fast. They probably got to
Natsuo already, so it’s a lost case, but Enji had to make sure Shouto’s alright. When he’s
secured, Bakugou and the next generation will be safe too. Family could still get out of this
more than less intact.

“He’s fine.” Came a response. Bringing Enji to a sudden halt. “It’s just— It’s Higa, right? He
— He’s more than Family. He’s almost blood, at this point,” he offered. “And now he’s hurt.
We care, right?”

Enji did, but hated being reminded of such inconvenience. Usually people didn’t poke their
noses into his business, allowing him to act like a boss should - cold, distant, a little heartless
- and it worked well for everyone. Then, Takami came and turned his life upside down.

Like a ray of particularly infuriating sunshine assaulting his eyes wherever he looked.

He was slightly melodramatic, getting emotional over the smallest things and notoriously
demanding Enji to fix the world. Enji, who led the organisation specialising in corrupting
everything that's good. Enji, who thrived in havoc, spreading destruction and madness with
his mere presence. He cut people into pieces. He probably scared some to death by just
looking at them the wrong way...

Yet, there he was; struck in place with a pair of gold eyes. Uncertain yet firm. Desperate but
fierce. Begging, then demanding.

When Takami was worried, he paced. And when he paced, Enji was the one who could no
longer live in peace.

For the sake of his mental health, Enji should have killed him a long time ago. Probably
somehow in the beginning, when they met for the first time and Takami decided to call him
“daddy” in the presence of his actual children... He should remove him then, once and for
good - not to pull him closer.

Either way, it was too late already. He was responsible for his mistakes, and if Takami was
one, then so be it. He just had to deal with it. Pay the price and humour him.

...Takami Keigo would be the death of him, Enji knew that much.
“Finally here,” chirped the voice. Making Enji instantly regret everything.

He barely arrived inside the Todoroki main manor hall when someone approached him,
crossing the room in a couple of strides. Ozoning malice and will so ill Enji didn’t even have
to raise his head and have a look to know exactly who he was dealing with.

“Dabi,” Enji greeted instead. Keeping himself unperturbed. “What a surprise.”

It was truly not, as he suspected something familiar to happen from the very beginning.
Morita Higa was Dabi’s man after all; the one Enji personally assigned to his son sometime
along his boyhood. Until then, he worked directly under him, hence the sentiment to the man
that had spent years along his side. He was a good man - one of the few, and could contribute
greatly to Enji’s plans if not for his undying loyalty; now fully dedicated to the young master.

“How’s Higa?” Takami interjected. By chance pushing Enji aside to separate him from Dabi
while getting pretty much into his face. “Is he stable? Can I see him?”

Dabi seemed to consider it for a moment before a smile crept across his face, and he said,
“Yeah, sure. Go for it. He’s in the east wing. Third door on the left from the last corner.”

Takami didn’t know a thing about the whole ‘Hide and Seek the Omega Situation’, so
remained blissfully unaware of the tension in the air. He probably felt that something was off
but blamed it on their regular “father-son bickering”. Dismissing it right away, with an
apologetic smile sent towards his boss abandoning his post in a bat of an eye. Leaving the
two of them all alone.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Dabi brought up. Mockery of a smile twisting his face into
something rather awful. “You dug yourself in some hole, and refused to crawl back. Had to
actually lure you out.”

Disturbing. Especially giving the circumstances.

“You shot him?” Enji inquired promptly. He wasn’t convinced but wouldn’t dare to put it past
Dabi. “Is killing your subordinate the best you can do to get my attention, Son?”

“I’m not your son,” Dabi spat angrily. Then, as if suddenly reminded, collected himself just
as fast. “Kill him. I didn’t kill him,” he parroted. Snorting under his breath. “The bullet only
grasped his shoulder. And I wasn’t the one holding the trigger.”

Which didn’t mean he wasn’t the mastermind behind it. Dabi could orchestrate it with ease--
Enji saw the insanity lurking around the corner of his eyes. If both him and Bakugou had
gone mad over their parting, they fit themselves better than he ever suspected.

Dabi was a smart man and Enji fell straight into his trap, forced to participate in his own final
confession.

“He’ll recover in no time, if that’s what you’re concerned about, Father.”

He wasn’t that concerned but nonetheless felt relieved to at least know Dabi didn’t cross
some lines, trying to get to him.
Then, there’s still time for everything, he reminded himself, trying not to flinch when Dabi
crawled closer. He didn’t draw his weapons out just yet but Enji saw the gun tucked into his
pants. Too sloppily to regard it as anything but a plain threat for him to acknowledge. Dabi
wasn’t reckless, so most likely a provocation too; an attempt at forcing his hands to snatch it
away. To test his luck and try to regain the upper hand.

He was set on confrontation, and Enji accepted it as inevitable. Still, he didn’t appreciate
being threatened regardless and so for a moment considered reaching out and trying to pull
the trigger nevertheless.

He raised this brat. He wouldn’t mind ending him either.

“Where is he?” Dabi asked. Unable to stand still, bouncing with all the nervous energy
vibrating off his body. “Where did you hide him?”

Not that it would affect Enji, having pretty much the time of his life.

“Who?” he echoed. Smirking in spite of himself and his self-preservation instincts. “Did you
lose something, you Foolish Imp?”

There was no movement but Enji felt slapped all the same. Hit in the face by fragrance too
potent to suppress even by the scent blockers placed exactly on Dabi’s scent glands. Heavy
and suffocating; eager to destroy. Carrying a unique promise of bloody murder. Dedicated
specifically to Enji who refused to take it seriously. Despite building up pressure staring
straight into those crystal clear eyes of his son.

They reminded him of fire - blue; hotter than the regular one. Raging and indomitable by
nothing. The perfect creation of uncontrollable destruction. Expanding further and further to
incinerate everything in its way, pledging violence upon the world. It was alluring...

Enji wanted to preserve those flames forever.

“Bakugou,” Dabi pressed on. “He likes to vanish from time to time,” he informed casually.
“Sometimes, he comes back on his own accord. Sometimes, I help him. However, that's the
case.” With Dabi’s bared canines mere centimetres away from his face Enji forced himself to
look away from his eyes and pay some attention. “I always know where he is.”

And wasn’t that disturbing?

Enji contemplated that for a moment, before recalling that he himself had put a tracking
device on his wife once, bothered with her free spirit. Assuming that sooner or later someone
would snatch her away from his grasp. They did, but he hunted them down and got rid of
every last one, before bringing her back home.

Dabi still had a lot to learn, then.

“But this time is different,” he carried on. “This time I can’t track him down. I tried. With no
effect, as you may assume.”
Obviously he couldn’t. Enji did everything in his power to keep Dabi away from anything
even slightly related to the matter. He quieted the whispers, blinded the witness, and removed
the traces of existence of those still unwilling to surrender.

Still, he wouldn’t admit any of that so easily. “I’m not your counsellor. Do tell someone else
of your failures.”

He tried to move away. Curious how far Dabi would take it before remembering his place.
Not really expecting a cold steel of a blade on his throat.

“He hides, but he cannot escape. Not from me. That’s how I know you’re a part of this.” He
wasn’t even asking anymore. Increasing the pressure and drawing first droplets of blood.
“You helped him, didn’t you?”

Was there even a point of lying?

“Tell me where he is or I’ll slice your throat open and watch as you bleed out on this very
floor.”

“Such unhealthy obsession,” Enji tsked. Carefully eying the knife as if trying to estimate if it
could really kill him. “You’re currently threatening the Head of this group. I sincerely do
hope you’re aware of the consequences.”

All of a sudden Dabi looked torn, as if someone had pulled the switch, and Enji savoured it
like a good wine. Ever since he was born, Touya was a truly problematic child - with his
emotions running wild all over the place, clouding his better judgement and bringing out the
worst in him. He was disobedient, cheeky and insolent, and so full of himself Enji may have
actually shared a tear when he finally managed to beat the obedience into the boy. He may
have despised him afterwards, but like a good soldier took his lesson to heart.

“You’re ready to finish me off, but are you ready to seize the power? To take my place and
guide them? Are you, Kobun?”

His loyalty lay with his family. Not the one that brought him into this world, but those who
raised him. Those who would kill for him, and die for him, and whom he would lead one day.

Dabi belonged to the Inferno the same way the snake on his arm belonged to his skin.
Permanently.

His hand trembled and Enji used his loosen up grip to disarm him, smacking the knife away.
It flew, dropping outside his reach, somewhere along the other side of the room.

“You’re forgetting yourself, Son.”

Dabi’s pursuit after Bakugou was troublesome at least.

If they got back together, Enji would probably never meet his grandchildren. Not even for
once. Bakugou would be too aggravated to even consider such a possibility, while Dabi
plainly hated him. Without Shouto to back him up, Enji would lose his main leverage. They
would keep him at bay. Denying him everything he waited so long for.
He could never allow this to happen.

Dabi was a necessity, but his significance was doubtful. Prouder he became, less Enji wanted
to keep him around. He was a thorn in his side. Stringing, and stringing, wounding the flesh
until someone decided to finally rip it off.

“Such a disgrace. Who in their right mind would freely choose to remain by your side?”

He was playing with the fire, he realised as Dabi’s eyes snapped wide open, and all at once
there was a gun in Enji’s face. To dodge and back away while drawing out his own was
simply a muscle memory at this point. Then, not to shoot him as he stood - a real challenge.
Especially as a high-pitched scream pierced his ears and with some delay he had comprehend
that someone had, in fact, fired already.

Not Dabi as Enji detect no sudden pain. But the shots repeated and Enji’s blood ran cold,
because while he was there, Keigo—

“It’s from outside!” Takami screamed, as if summoned. Running into the room as if the devil
himself was at his heels. “They’re bloody everywhere!”

“Who?”

“Okuta’s men, it seems.”

Oh. Oh.

“What the hell are those knobheads doing here?” Dabi asked as another gun fired.

“I doubt they'd dropped in for tea.”

Grimacing, Dabi finally lowered his own gun from Enji, reluctantly letting him go off the
hook for a time being.

An opportunity, Enji determined, without further ado granting his son with a vile smile and
poisonous words.

“You want to bring him back? To this damned world?” Enji asked. Not very conversationally.
Leaving no real doubt who was he referring to. “Then work yourself to the bone and be
bloody certain it’s stable enough beforehand. Or mind my word, Son, you’ll carry his coffin,”
he warned.

Then, quieter added, “As I did your mother,” with a ferocious smile and gun already pulled
out moving along to purge.

Dabi did end up patched after all. Injured but not badly enough to be hospitalised per se, but
close enough for Enji to keep his not-really-made promise to Bakugou.
His mood was relatively good then, additionally boosted by the still vivid in his memory
fight, when Takami caught up with him as Enji tried to leave undetected by his bruised up
son.

“Weren’t we on good terms with the Okuta fraction?” Takami inquired. Oblivious to Enji’s
pointed glare. “Saw Giran in your office, like what, last week?”

He surely did. Four days ago, to be precise. Enji invited him over for a little chat. They drank
cognac, shared thoughts about life, and exchanged some money over favours.

Nothing that out of the ordinary.

“Giran? Haven’t seen the bastard for over a decade.” Harmless lies to be told. “It must have
been your imagination.”

Takami wasn’t affiliated with Inferno - he hung around Enji consciously, and thus more often
than not mingled into The Family business, but as long as Enji had anything to say in this, he
wouldn’t bear its snake on his skin - and what he didn't know couldn’t harm him. Enji
promised himself to keep him safe regardless of the cost, and intended to be true to his word.
Even if it meant lying, deceiving and pretending to be a better person than he ever was.

No one would dare to oppose the Heir without Father's clear approval. The strict hierarchy
worked in his favour, and he used it all to his advantage, arranging underlings to do his
bidding. Giran paid him a visit because Enji requested it first. He sought him out all by
himself, because some cheeky brat got on his nerves once too many times. Snooping around,
making Enji’s life unnecessarily difficult and having no idea when to finally let go.
Apparently having nothing better to do than to run around and bitch about some Omega.

Enji would keep him busy even if it meant he had to make another attempt at his life.

(He just needed to work on being more specific the next time around so the date wouldn’t
coincide with his visits in the mansion, forcing him to participate again.)

When pups were finally born it felt like an ultimate reward for all of Enji’s hard work.

Life was tough row to hoe, but he lived long enough to see his grandchildren. The new
generation of Todoroki, sharing none of the animosity of Enji’s own lads. They were pure,
and tiny, and good heavens, Enji couldn’t wait to hold them into his arms. They would cry for
now on, but soon he would definitely make them coo happily too. Their smiles would never
be bitter, their eyes would shine brightly, and they would call him “grandsire”, or “grandpa”,
or maybe even “gramps”—

Dear lord, he was a grandfather now!

“Shouto!” Enji called as soon as he arrived at the hideout. Spotting his son right away; his
hands full with two little cocoons. “Is— Are they?”
Finding himself lost for words, Enji paused abruptly. Odd feelings rising inside his chest,
making him both giggly and terrified all of sudden. What if they wouldn’t like him? What if
they found him scary? Too huge and gloomy? His kids got their looks mostly from their
mother; compared to Shouto he would probably petrify them right away—

“Kamiya!” Shouto screamed. Shocking Enji, who hadn’t really expected that, to the core.

So called man emerged from the other room shortly after, forcing a threatening growl out of
Enji. He didn’t know him. Never saw him or heard a word about just who was he supposed to
be. A stranger in his house. Intruder, hanging around his son. An alpha, reaching out for the
newborns.

Suddenly, Enji wanted to bite him, and would likely do just so if not for Shouto grabbing at
his shoulder as soon as he handed the babies away.

“Take them away,” he commended. Bringing dread to Enji, who still didn’t get a chance to
even have a look at them. “Now,” he emphasises. Forcing an apologising smile out of a
stranger, who nodded at him briefly before obeying and disappearing by the corner.

“Shouto!”

It was a tragedy. Catastrophe. Agony sent upon him by his youngest son; scrutinising him
like he was nothing but dirt under his shoes.

“I know what you did,” Shouto admitted. Coldly. “I’m well aware that you lied to Bakugou.
That you played him for no reason. He was frail and you used it against him,” he carried on.
Accusatory finger jabbing Enji in the chest. “I also do know about Touya. That you’re the
one responsible for the recent commotion; that you tried to hurt him and had succeed.”

Shouto wasn’t the one to raise his hands against him. He wasn’t Enji’s biggest fan but
respected him like one would a father - from far away; with hate burning alive in his
mismatched eyes yet with mouth tight shut. He never opposed him outrightly, holding his
objections close to himself. Too aware of the power difference between them.

For him to go against him like that... Fuck, Enji may have miscalculated how pups would
affect the situation, shifting the balance. Shouto wasn’t in his full parenting mood just yet but
acted quite protective just the same.

Apparently considering Enji as a potential threat.

“You’ve been messing with both of them for quite some time,” he growled. “And it ends
now.”

Did he not understand that Enji did it for him? That he tried to assure they wouldn’t do
anything stupid. Run freely and act rashly. That he hoped to protect them all from
themselves?

“You’ll stop that right now or I swear to God, I’ll renounce you. You’ll never see Bakugou,
those kids, or me, ever again.”
He was mistaking it! Enji wasn’t a threat. He was good!

“Get out of here before I make you.”

“SHOOOOOOUTOOOOOO!"

He worked hard but got kicked out just the same; for now being able to only dream of
meeting his grandchildren in any near future.
 Commotion
Chapter Notes

🙏
It's a short ice-breaker after the long period of absence. Please don't eat me—My
bachelor's degree is killing me enough

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The childbirth started earlier than it should.

Near 39 weeks, with still 3 more to go, Bakugou’s water broke. Kamiya warned them it may
be the case given the situation—his blood condition, separation with Alpha, strain the stress
might have on his body—and symptoms he already experienced—constant dull backache,
sensation of lower abdominal pressure, sometimes bleeding (sending Shouto spiralling,
Weakling)—but neither of them had expected it quite as soon. It came unexpectedly, with
wetness dripping down Bakugou’s legs.

“Am I bleeding again?” he asked.

With one look at Shouto’s whitening face deeming him utterly useless.

“Oi! Don’t faint at me.”

He had some experience with light spotting. But this—This felt nothing like usual. It was
weird. Wrong, Bakugou’s mind supplied, adding to the suddenly arising panic.

“Shouto,” Bakugou choked out. With his sour distress scent in a matter of seconds gaining
his full attention. “It’s too early.”

“What?”

“It’s too early!” he yelped. Instinctively clutching to Alpha’s arm while panting heavily.
“We’re gonna lose them. We’re gonna lose them, Shouto... Oh My God, Oh Fuck, Shit—”

He started mumbling. Limiting himself to cursing so creatively Shouto would suspect him of
comprehending if not for it being Bakugo’s manual function. Bringing nothing but confusion
to the man now supporting his shaky form. He wasn’t obvious—it just caught him by
surprise. Taking some extra seconds of dumbfounded staring into Bakugou’s wide-open eyes,
before the realisation came, hitting him just as hard.

“Babies?!”

It wasn't the peak of his intelligence, he would admit that. But Bakugou’s murderous glare
was plainly rude.
At least he came back to himself a little.

“We gotta move,” Shouto thought out loud. Ready to snatch Bakugou up and run to the
hospital, if needed.

Only to get stopped by Bakugou’s demanding hand on his chest. “We’re not going
anywhere,” he stated.

Giving him not another word of explanation and already moving somewhere. Still holding
onto Shouto’s shirt and thus dragging him with himself.

“Call Kamiya,” he added later on. Entering his bedroom and shoving Shouto away to hide
into his nest. “I’ll give birth here.”

It’s uncalled for, Shouto wanted to argue. Dangerous and stupid. Unnecessary risky for both
him and pups.

He intended to point it out straight into his face but got growled at, and instantly yielded.
Deciding that being a smart-ass and getting himself killed at the very beginning of at least
twelve hours of hell wasn’t really his top priority.

About ten hours later, the girl was born.

She cried pitifully, fidgeting into Kamiya’s grasp as if bluntly rejecting him. It would be
funny—Kamiya was definitely sulking, and wasn’t he too old for that?—if not for a fact it
irritated him enough to not pay attention to Bakugou’s odd behaviour. He was quiet,
unnaturally so; curling up to himself. Scowling fiercely and baring his teeth when out of habit
Kamiya tried to give him back the pup.

Forcing Shouto’s hand to grab them midway, before he got an actual chance to bite her.

“Are you insane?” he questioned, barely refraining from screaming. “She’s your daughter,
Bakugou.”

If denial got a material form it would be Bakugou at the moment. “She’s my nothing,” he
spat. Wriggling into bed as if trying to force his tired out body to listen and move. “Take out
the other too,” he ordered at Kamiya.

Silencing both of them on the spot.

“Other?” One of them forced out. “If you're talking about her brother—” Kamiya tried to
reason, only to be interrupted by Shouto’s, “Don’t you want to hold her?”

The girl in his arms was still crying, but appeared to subdue enough to let herself be held
without much trouble. Her eyes were crystal, because of her tears shining like the brightest
sky. She was no longer bloody and Shouto found consolidation into absently petting her
raven curls while supporting her head. She was her father’s daughter without a doubt.
Looking like a mirror image of Touya.

That Bakugou apparently couldn’t look at.

“Bakugou,” Shouto pleased helplessly. “She may be a bit loud now, but that’s because she’s
uneasy. Probably scared. I’m sure she’ll calm down once you hold her. She needs to feel you.
I—”

He couldn’t do this... He wasn’t her father. He couldn’t replace them to her.

“Don’t.” Was Bakugou’s only answer. Just because, or due to the end of the fifteen-minute
break between the labour—Shouto didn’t know.

Then, he got a continuation, with Bakugou barking out a short, “Get out,” as if he was
actually a dog.

“But the baby...” Shouto tried.

Only to get cut off at once. “Get out and take her with you.”

“She’s still crying,” he pressed on, unconvinced.

Receiving nothing but a long stare from the man. “Congratulations. That’s your life from now
on.”

With that being said Kamiya shoved him out the door before he even got a chance to express
his disbelief.

The boy came into the world not long after and was forced into Shouto’s hands just as fast.

“Oh come on,” he tried to reason with Kamiya. “You can’t just dump them on me.”

Kamiya’s flat stare suggested otherwise. “You kidnapped me—Watching you suffer is a
reward in itself.”

“I did not put my hand to it.” Shouto had the audacity to look offended. “You refused to
come, so I nicely asked some friends to bring you here.”

“‘Friends’ that grabbed me at smoke-break and pointed a gun at my face to force me into a
car without a licence plate!” Fine, it may have appeared a bit suspicious. “I thought they're
gonna kill me, You Four-Flusher!”

Shouto decided to keep silent about the fact that they probably would if he refused to
cooperate further.
“I got one hell-of-a-mad Omega going into labour. Excuse me for not caring about your
discomfort.”

“I do not!” Kamiya bristled. Catching himself too late not to disturb babies into Shouto’s
arm. Now throwing another fit. “Will charge you double for that,” he grunted. Sending an
angry glare at the pair of bawling children. “They’re ugly, by the way.”

It was a Shouto turn to fume. “Come again?” Because how dare he.

But the doctor was already fleeing, with a wave of his hands signalising he was only joking.
“Meant they look like their father!” He didn’t even appear apologetic. “Gonna be a bother
later on.”

And wasn’t everything, Shouto thought as a tinny fist smashed him across the face. Great.
They seemed to warm up to him.

Talking about bothersome things, as soon as he was back in the room, Bakugou spoke up.

“I want to go home.”

“You’re home,” Kamiya explained patiently, already knowing where it’s heading.

“I’m not,” Bakugou snapped. Turning around to look at him with sheer panic. “You know
I’m not. You know everything,” he carried on. Hands gripping the bed sheet tightly, before
realising something at once; the serene peace dawning upon his face all of sudden. “You can’t
take me, but you can call him.”

“Call whom?”

“Touya.”

“You’re unwell,” Kamiya pointed out slowly. Moving closer. “It’s understandable after givin’
birth. You’d need some time to rest.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I need!”

As expected, Bakugou was vivid in a matter of seconds, already wrenching around, probably
about to hurt himself if not stopped fast enough. Not expecting Kamiya to act right away,
getting a solid hold of his arms. Behaving inappropriate and threatening Bakugou’s Inner
Omega, who deemed it justified to try to bite his face off.

Succeeding only partly; instead settling out for his ear. Tearing off a good part of his earlobe
before the sedative inserted into his arm got an actual chance to do its work. Forcing a
surprised cry out of Kamiya, because what an actual fuck.

“I’ll tell you what I need,” Bakugou snared after spitting on the side. Baring his bloody teeth.
“I need my Alpha. And you’ll get him to me, or I swear—”
What would remain a mystery, as he swayed aside, eyes drowsy. Blinking furiously as if
trying to chase away the fog clouding his mind, before the realisation dawned upon him as he
finally spotted a syringe sticking out his arm.

He was out cold in a second, and Kamiya couldn’t help but snarl viciously as he fell down
from a bed, hitting the floor like a log of wood.

“Scuse me, you’re sayin’?”

He’d cherish the moment, basking in glory some longer, if not for a late consciousness that
the man before him had just given birth, and probably should not be laying on the floor at all.
Or that’s what the Alpha in the other room would probably say before ripping Kamiya’s
throat off for letting the Omega in his supposed-care bleed out on the ground.

He also preferred not to ponder what the other Alpha—Touya—would’ve done to him if he'd
even heard about it, as he had some good guess it’d not be anything nice at all.

“Surely my insurance isn’t covering that,” he barked. Brining a hand to his bleeding right ear.
It stung and probably looked worse-for-wear but Kamiya was too done to even care. He just
delivered the double birth of a yakuza's running away bride. Some credits would be nice.
“Triple, is it then.”

He’d strip them bare from all their money.

Shouto on the other hand felt bothered by his own blood.

Which was worse because Enji was a walking-talking menace, getting on his nerves better
than most could.

“I told you to leave,” he exasperated some time later.

He already kicked his father out of the house once. Why would he force him to do it again?
Did he have nothing better to do with his life than to pester him?

“I’m aware. That’s why I left,” Enji explained. Making a vein in Shouto’s neck throb. “But
now I’m back.”

“I can see that.”

“Not without a reason!” he clarified hurriedly. Aware of the thickening air. “There’s a threat
in this house! A danger!”

If the fixed stare he received was anything to go by, Shouto was well aware. Talking to one at
the very moment.

“NOT ME, SHOUTOOO!”

“Whatever.”

He truly didn’t care about another of Enji’s made-up stories—he always exaggerated and
antagonised everyone who wasn’t blood, irking Shouto the wrong way. The only people in
the house at the moment were the two of them, Bakugou and pups. If he even tried to bad-
mouth any of the second ones, Shouto wouldn’t be able to hold back, balancing on a very tine
line of his patience.

Tired, he was. Tired of having to fight with everyone and repeat himself constantly.

Whining inaudible at the sight of Kamiya coming back to the room with the pups in town.

“Why are you—”

“HIM!” Enji roared. Starting everyone. “The unholy hands holding onto our precious...”

He was insane. Bloody insane.

“Of fuck no!” Shouto exclaimed as Bakugou would in his place. Swiftly taking the pups from
Kamiya, before Enji as much as got a chance to reach them.

Winning himself both the most pitiful and the doubtful stares in the universe.

Completely ignoring Enji’s pleading form. Patiently waiting for the man to collect himself
and get to the bloody point.

Coughing awkwardly, with a last wistful glare at the babies, the Head of Todoroki got himself
together, before claiming, “He’s a snitch,” as if it was the simplest truth under the sky.

Bringing Kamiya to everybody’s full attention.

“Tell him, rat. Admit your connection to Aizawa Shouta.”

“Sho-chan?” he repeated. Obviously not really following-through. “We’re cousins!”

He beamed and for once Enji seemed as put off as Shouto did.

“Um, so are you really... Detective Aizawa’s family?”

“Sure thing. Why bring it up so suddenly?”

Fuck.

Shouto had to make sure Enji would not try to shoot him with the gun in his left hand while
in the presence of newborns. They didn’t need to fuck them up this badly in the mere first
few hours of their lives.
 *to be continued*

Chapter End Notes

*The next chapter is probably going to include some major time-jump, so stay turned
✔*
 Home
Chapter Summary

Katsuki (do not) copy with parenthood but what's better than unleashing some sever
trauma to force him to move forward?

Chapter Notes

My grave apologises for all the readers - I was spiralling for some time (I don’t want to
burden you with my issues, so let’s just say I needed some solid time away to get back
to writing, reading all of those amazing fics of others and not really feeling content with
mine). But. It's here. I made myself cry with this chapter (ಥ◡ಥ) but maybe that's just
me, being emotional. So bring a tissue if you need them or don't, but overall enjoy~!~

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Trigger Warnings: Blood, child hurt.

In the end, Kamiya was left alone.

Not because of Enji and his big forgiving heart nor those huge and welcoming arms... No.
The circumstances forced Shouto to act a little over-dramatic. He may have started screaming
—or rather very aggressively whispering, given the situation—for his father to calm the-
fuck-down and lower his weapon, before entrusting him with two bloody-screaming infants.
Deciding to, quite literally, thrust them into Enji’s arms. Approving it a perfectly acceptable
solution to keep him occupied and not so eager on homicide. Keen on ignoring two equally
agitated faces to seize Kamiya’s wrist and drag him away to another room.

Set on resolving one major problem at the time.

“For your information – I never denied knowing Sho-chan. You just never asked.”

It was all Bakugou’s fault, Shouto decided. For falling in bed, and afterwards in love, with
Touya. Then, for thoroughly and utterly ignoring Shouto over the years as if they’re never
friends, only to appear at his doorstep one day and simply turn his life upside down. For
being pregnant, and irritable pretty, and refusing to give birth at the hospital as anyone else
would do... For messing with his head, and his feelings, and his daily life.
If he’d additionally get him fired and named a criminal—Shouto couldn’t promise he would
not become one in more than just a name, to suffocate him for once and all.

“Huh. So, you’re related to Aizawa, Kamiya?” Todoroki asked. Not so conversationally.
“What a coincidence.”

Shouto wasn’t overly intimidating. Slime and pleasing to the eye. Neither scary nor ugly
enough to frighten at the first glare. Never one for trouble; lacking drive to misbehave. In
contrary to the rest of his family—actually hating hurting people. Loathing himself for
causing any sort of harm.

“Above all, I must apologise,” Shouto stated. “For allowing you too close and revealing too
much, as I doubt you’ll live a long life after today.”

A good guy, they would call him. Forgetting he was a yakuza after all—by the blood running
thick in his veins, nourishing his instincts and senses—and no one, even those he deemed
friends, should not dare to stand between him and those he considered family.

“I like you, so it pains me,” he continued dully, “but it’s never about what we like, is it?”

For always acting all cool Kamiya did a pretty shitty job at faking indifference. “Come on
mate. No need for threats. Your hubby already chewed my ear as if it was a chewin’ gum.”

“I’m not threatening you,” Shouto shrugged. With one forceful tug by the wrist throwing
Kamiya back-straight at the wall. “Would you like me to threaten you?”

He was good once. Then, he became a substitute for a Mate and a Father.

“Let me get one thing straight then. If you utter a word of what you saw today to Aizawa, or
anyone else, you’ll never speak another word again. Are we clear?”

They were. Kamiya's short nod passed on that much, before his cockiness got the better of
him.

“I can sense you’re dyin’—pun indeed—to get rid of me, but I must warn you we’re kinda
bound together for a time bein’, Pretty Boy,” Kamiya mocked. Pliant against the wall. Not
too keen on putting up any real fight. “Your Omega’s nutty as a fruitcake. Someone qualified
should keep an eye on him or mark my word – the next thing he bites will be the one you’d
miss.”

“And it has to be you, because?”

“I already charge you triple. Should one minor inconvenience deny you the chance of me
ripping you off all of your dirty money?”

“...It’s more of my Father’s dirty money.”

“So you agree?”

Shouto did.
As time went on, things didn’t advance exactly as one would expect them to.

There was a small silver ring adoring Bakugou’s promise finger and a taunting, but
nonetheless cute, photo frame sitting on a mantel of the fireplace in their dining room. Good
on their promise, Bakugou and Shouto got tied together, just as Enji expected them to.
Exchanging vows neither of them believe in but promised to keep nonetheless. To love and
support. To share their dreams, secrets, and feelings. To remain at each other's side until their
exact dying breath.

Bakugou refused to take Todoroki's name but didn’t oppose it to extend on his children. In his
frail state preserving no right mind to prevent them from entering the Todoroki Clan.

They moved to another safe house as Enji deemed them highly irresponsible and stupid for
compromising the previous one in such a manner. He didn’t seem to mind them sneaking
around his bodyguards quite as much as he did the “Kamiya issue”, as they called it. Fuming
about a “stray” worming its way among them while the best medic team at his disposal root
away, useless. He got even pettier as Kamiya kept visiting them to check on Bakugou;
doubling the amount of guards following them around, simply because he could.

They were forbidden to leave the mansion unsupervised. Enji held a strong opinion about
them running around freely; with one pointed look at Bakugou assuming the worst (rightly
so, given Bakugou’s mental condition). He didn’t even have to say a word. Shouto, in the
name of solidarity, submitted himself to a voluntary house arrest. Only later, with Enji’s
unexpected visit and gifts realising it may have been not so voluntary at all.

“From your boss,” he said. Tossing him a “Get Well!” Card filled him with Aizawa’s chicken
handwriting. Mocking him with no actual text besides the short and sweet “Your brother
really wants you dead” and some sketches of the Mini Aizawas’ holding their thumbs up.
Besides the card, there was also an envelope with his annual salary and so Shouto apparently
got his paid leave.

It was normal for a change. Even the main concern of everyone—Bakugou—was slowly
coming back to himself. Instead of withdrawing once again actively participating in the daily
activities—cooking them dinners (despite Shouto’s wariness of handling him knives),
challenging him into some close combat (Shouto doubted he really tried to kill him, even if he
came close more times that it’d be considered a happy accident) and following him around as
he tried to work in the garden. Acting loud and obnoxious; always in Shouto’s face. Only in
the proximity to his off-springs flipping out, as if his brain had a problem with connecting the
dots quite yet. Barely acknowledging their bare existence. Deaf and oblivious to their
distress.

The only thing stopping Shouto from taking matters in his own hand and setting Bakugou
straight would be the advice of their leading doctor. Compelling Shouto to give him some
slack and space to accommodate. And he did, except for one time when he reached the
breaking point with Bakugou calling his pups “it” or “those things”. Finally losing his temper
to force Katsuki into choosing the proper names for them. Set on making it purely his
decision.

After unnecessary struggle pressuring Bakugou into yelling, “Amaya and Hajime. Are you
happy?!”

He should not be. Realising the meaning and implication behind their kanji—both pretty in
its own way, indicating the end and the beginning. Yet, the win was a win. And he was there
to accompany Bakugou no matter what direction he considered his life was going in.

Disgusted, is how Bakugou felt. Sickened by the two new presences in the house. Horrified
with how much they screamed for him; trying to lure him closer. Repealed by the mere
thought of seeing them. Holding them. Loving them. Appalled or maybe even annoyed, with
how much they confused him. His own flesh and blood, in his head registering as anything
but. <A problem. An obstacle...> To what?

<You know.>

He just didn’t want to admit it.

Fuck, he missed him.

Why would he? Bakugou had a family now.

<Do you though?> He didn’t love them. <How could you love them?>

He couldn't. Not like he loved him.

“I want to go back,” Bakugou pleaded with Shouto. Not for the first time, and definitely not
for the last. Doing his best to maintain an eye’s contact with a male while pointedly avoiding
looking at the bundles he held into his arms. “There’s no reason not to. You know he’d take
me.”

Shouto considered him delusional. Trying his best not to snap or act out; choosing to be civil.

“Your Weak Blood is acting up,” he assured. “Besides, Kamiya diagnosed you with
postpartum depression.”

“Fuck you, Shouto.”

“Exactly. Baby blues.”

Who gave him any right to live was beyond Bakugou.

“You’re peculiarly restless and easy to irritate. You’ll probably get hysterical next.”

“I’m not hysterical, you little shit—”

Bakugou thought of hitting him, but instead ended up crying. Feeling hopelessness and
worthless, and lost, and fuck—he would strangle Shouto in his sleep for acting like a smartass
if not for a fact he was currently taking care of those hellspawn Bakugou wanted to have
nothing in common with.

By then, he managed to avoid them for a whole five months. They started crawling not so
long ago; way too soon for Bakugou’s liking and comfort, in contrast to Shouto’s delight. He
let them loose to support their newly acquired independence and curiosity. Allowing them to
roam freely around the ground floor of the house. To inspect and wonder on their very own,
yet never completely off the sight.

Not even once asking Bakugou to watch over them. Overcautious.

<Why would he be?>, the voice inside his head taunted. Impossible to block off. <Isn’t life
unfair?>

It was but Bakugou saw no point in stating the obvious.

<It doesn’t have to be>, it carried on. Apparently not up to date with the fact they took away
his phone, locked him up and refused to allow him to meet with anyone but Shouto, Enji and
Kamiya.

<They don’t care about you>, it sang now. Like a long-lost thought rattling in his brain.
<They would let you go if they could. Allow them.>

Was he going nuts? He felt as if he did. People talked to themselves, right? Were their inner
voices also babbling rubbish or was it just him and another of Bakugou’s famous family
traits?

“Allow them,” Bakugou repeated out loud. Considering it for a moment as he stood
motionlessly over the kitchen counter. He was supposed to make dinner. Lately Shouto
granted him enough space not to supervise his every move. He could use that, trying to
poison their watchers while pretending to feed them with goods and purge his way outside?
Wasn’t it a bit drastic? Not to mention Enji forbidding his men to ever approach him—how
was he supposed to give them anything when he knew they would run away as soon as they
spot him?

Fine, he thought, opening the cabinet and grabbing a knife. He could probably stab himself if
necessary. Would it “allow him” out? Kamiya would likely patch him up wherever, so he
should just cross that one out. Maybe stabbing Kamiya, then? No good luck—besides that
they would see right through him if he tried to carry the knife out the kitchen, he didn’t really
want to hurt the poor moose.

He couldn’t sneak out. He was locked. Why would they lock him? Locked locked. Did they
want to keep him here forever? Locked locked locked. They couldn't. They wouldn't! Locked
locked lockedlockedlocked...
Bakugou was distressed. It was hard to breathe. There were hands on his ankle, trying to
capture him. He tried to fight them off.

He saw red. Then, his vision cleared but the red remained.

Someone screamed. He wasn’t aware that he did.

He saw blood. Vibrant and dazzling. It was dripping down his daughter's face, straining her
right cheek. She was small; so small. Sprawled by his feet like a doll. She must have crawled
to him while he paid no mind. Maybe sensed his distress. Trying to reach him with her tiny
hands. Grabbing his ankle. To connect. So trusting and loving.

“Shouto,” Bakugou faltered. Having troubles with comprehending he was already there.
Tuned for his shouting even since they moved in together.

How he could move so fast was beyond Bakugou. Especially as he could only watch as
Shouto put Hajime aside before moving to examine Amaya up close.

Bakugou hurt her yet she didn’t cry. Kids always cry while hurt. They’re kids. Yet she didn’t
even utter a word...

<You’re free>, the voice spoke once again. Filling him with dread.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t.

Not his child. Not his daughter.

Bakugou was breaking without realising it. A sob shaking his whole body. He wanted to
reach out to her. To hold her. He never held her before. She was little. How could anyone be
this little? Was she warm? She looked cold. Did he kill her? He needed to touch her. He
didn’t deserve to touch her—

“Bakugou.” Shouto’s voice reached him. It was flat. Chilly. Was she dead? “She’s okay.”

<It’s dead>, he heard. Getting fooled.

“She’s okay,” Shouto repeated. More forceful this time. “It’s only a scratch.”

Bakugou wanted to believe him. What else could he do but to believe him?

He did not for so long, finally giving in. Despite everything falling down to his knees to
touch his daughter. Shouto didn’t stop him, if alerted, keeping it all to himself. Permitting
Bakugou to hug her; to weep into Amaya’s raven hair. She smelt like a bonfire—cedar
embers right after the flames had died down. Earthy. Grounding.

“I’m so sorry,” Bakugou whimpered. “I’m so so sorry...”

How could he ever hate her while she smelt just like home?
Chapter End Notes

👀
Talking about pattern: did I just give you Shouto Todoroki 2.0? With scar and
everything? We'll see, we'll see

(I miscalculated so definitely what's coming next: The time jump. Bakugou's getting a
bit better with his kids. But the most important part - Touyaaaa's here.)
 Tattoo
Chapter Summary

Bakugou's a catch.

Chapter Notes

So I wrote this chapter in parts (as it kept bugging me), moths after moths, while
publishing the previous chapters and it was wild to rewrite into sth that actually made
sense, so hope you enjoy~!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sun was shining, birds were singing, Shouto was out of town with Amaya and Hajime, and
Bakugou couldn’t help but hate every single one of these things.

It was too hot for his liking—he was sweating like a whore in church; with his clothes
clinging to his body like a second skin. Which was fucking disgusting, and birds chirping
outside his window like it was nothing but a pleasant day pissed him off even more.

Maybe he was just moody today.

Maybe he had any right to be as damned Enji requested to see his grandchildren on such
short notice that something in Bakugou had just boiled and he refused to give in to his whim.
He already saw them at least once a month (sure, let’s keep your pregnancy on the down low,
Enji had said before the babies were born, and then at once Bakugou found out it was quite
impossible to kick him out of their shared house anymore) and enough was fucking enough.
They were HIS children after all—Bakugou conceive them (with a little help), carried them
for months growing wider and wider until he could move no more, and then gave birth for
whole ten hours to finally hold them into his arms—no one would claim any right to them if
they know what’s good for them, or Bakugou swore to heavens, he would become a mass
murderer.

To say their relationship improved over the past months would be an understatement.

Bakugou’s attitude did a 180 degree turn; changing from the cold indifference to a full mama
bear mood.

He may have not just yet caught up with his conflicted feelings about them, but no longer
stayed passive either. Back then, Bakugou finally tried to actually get to know them. To
understand them better. Act like a parent and maybe even form some bond.

To put it simple—Bakugou was invested. Almost killing one’s daughter did that to a person
apparently.

He was invested, and devoted to spending as much time as possible with them to actually
start to love them, only for Shouto to mess it all up, as always.

Talking about improvement, the most remarkable one must have occurred to the Shouto-Enji
relation. As apparently they found a new common ground bringing them closer together;
awfully in agreement to anything Bakugou was not. While Enji beamed with a possibility of
having the family’s members that didn’t actually hate him, for all his recent help Shouto felt
obligated not to antagonise him too much. He didn’t want to fight unnecessarily, allowing
Enji to do as he pleased. More often than not surrendering to his childish whims.

Packing up his bags and robbing Bakugou of his happiness.

“It’s for only a weekend. Don’t be so dramatic Katsuki,” Shouto snored. Definitely thriving
in Bakugou’s misery.

“Said a guy who didn’t take his eyes off them even once since they were born!”

Bakugou didn’t even need to point out how they’re obviously hiding behind Shouto’s legs at
the moment, to prove he’s right. They’re joined at the hips at this point. Bakugou would curse
him for stealing them away if he didn’t find it as cute as he had.

And bloody adorable it was; Shouto with utter care detaching their little fists from his pants
before picking both pups up into his arms. Exposing Bakugou to the full force of their
combined charm by purposely squeezing together their faces.

The two sets of identical large blue eyes pierced straight through him. Moving something
within his soul.

“I’m addicted,” Shouto admitted, cheeks puffed. “You may still have a chance to save
yourself.”

“From your stupidity?”

Bakugou was long gone. Positively smitten. Deeming it utterly unfair for someone as dead
serious as Shouto to break the character and smile as brightly as he did while cocking his
head to properly face Amaya and Hajime.

With a grave conspiracy fake-whispering, “Your mommy’s mean ‘cause he’s jealous.”

“Jealous?!” Bakugou squawked. “Of what? You?”

Maybe he was, given he calmed down only when Shouto handed the kids over. Paying him
no mind as he leaned closer to kiss their foreheads.
“You’ve always been possessive,” Shouto stated. Looking him over. “But never could name
what of.”

Bakugou intended to strongly disagree until Shouto pecked him too, instantly throwing him
off.

Reducing him to a gasping and staring mess.

“We’ll be back before you start to miss us.”

“I won’t miss you!”

If his cheeky grin was anything to go by, Shouto highly doubted that. The worst was—
Bakugou wasn’t so sure of it himself either.

The thing with Shouto was it's easy to fall in together.

It came as naturally as breathing and would scare the shit out of Bakugou in normal
circumstances. Yet, with his wounded heart to nurse and two pups filling most of his daily
routine, Bakugou just let it happen. Accepting it as inevitable.

Then, there appeared an opportunity to mess things up, and Bakugou took it gladly. His rebel
spirit rioting against the domestic bliss and serenity that came with it. Hungry for a thrill of
finally letting himself go, lowering his guard (even if only a little) and having some fun.

He missed sharing bed with someone out of an actual need and desperation of it rather than
sheer obligation his second gender and heats brought. Shouto didn’t love him, not like that at
least, and Bakugou didn’t hold it against him. More than grateful for the whole rest of things
he did on his account. Aware he would likely go along with his whims on those matters too, if
only asked, and so, Bakugou should never bring it up not to actually push him into something
he may regret later.

Bakugou wanted to fuck. And was there a better place for that other than one of the hundreds
nightclubs in Tokyo?

Probably, but Bakugou liked that one the best. Swiftly coming back to his old ways, with
Shouto and kids out of town feeling no remorse in putting on his best clothes and sneaking
out of their shared house to party.

It took Bakugou some time to locate his target but once he did, he made sure not to let him go
out of his sight.
He wasn’t particularly picky tonight. Set on finding himself a man of two traits: an Alpha
with a strong physique and face pretty enough to gush over for the rest of the evening.
Someone able to take his breath away and fuck him silly while he reduced himself to a
whimpering mess.

Bakugou was actually excited. He hadn’t fuck a stranger for ages now. Having his fair share
of casual hook-ups in his teen years before Dabi caught a whiff of it and started beating
people unconscious. It had its appeal; Touya’s urgency to possess, own, and dominate. It
amazed him when they weren’t together just yet, and drove him on even further when they
became official. Flirting was funny but nothing measured to an actual thrill of allowing others
to feel him up to test just how far he could push Dabi until he would snap.

He wanted Touya to realise they’re meant to be and act his part.

To stop this farce for once and good. To finally give in, claim him and mate with him as he
should.

A stray thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

It wasn’t that long ago and the need was still there, even if he refused to indulge it. Bakugou
would never mate with anyone. He was there to just fool around. Being truly single—besides
his supposed marriage—for the first time in about five years.

Already set on a particular stranger at the bar.

Bakugou heard him before he saw him; with a laugh so obliviously loud planting ideas inside
his head. First, included the bloody murder. Luckily for a guy, even from afar he was rather
pleasant to look at, thus Bakugou chose a different approach—curious if he could put those
lips to a better use. Already set on approaching the stranger; not disappointing to find he was
actually quite hot. A foreigner with tan skin and brownish hair. Well-built but not too muscly,
more of a surfer type than a weightlifter.

Sitting himself on a free stool on the guy’s left side, Bakugou ordered a soda. Fanning
himself briefly as if overcame with a sudden heat of the room, only to sigh pointedly before
undoing the first two buttons of his shirt. By a ‘pure accident’ glancing aside to catch a gaze
of his companion.

“It’s hot in here, init?”

If the guy was surprised with a sudden approach, he didn’t show it. Smiling sweetly, “Hot
indeed.”

He was looking Bakugou up and down as if trying to determine something. Not so discreetly
sniffing the air. Only for Bakugou to realise that’s probably the main issue here, as he pretty
much bathed himself in scent blockers.

“Omega,” Bakugou supplied. Not one for introduction. Catching a quiet ‘lit’ before the
stranger leaned closer, coating him with his musky scent. “Alpha. Wanna hit that wave
together?”
And who was Bakugou to turn down such a cheesy offer?

They hit the dance floor first. Getting to know each other through the rhythmic swings of
their bodies. Bakugou wouldn’t call himself an extraordinary dancer but knew how to
effortlessly tune himself to the music, moving along its pulsations. Swaying in a way one
would be fucking; bringing the stranger with him. In no time becoming quite the sensation in
even an equally packed club.

He was shamelessly rubbing against the bulge pressed by his ass when the heavy breath hit
his ear, telling him all he needed to know.

“How abou’ I'll buy you another drink and we’ll be fixin’ to leave after?”

To refuse was the right choice. Thanks to Shouto (oh-so kindly pointing out to him that
among many other things he’s most certain Bakugou’s addicted to a liquor too) Bakugou was
not only aware of his drinking problem but also motivated to at last put it to an end. He was
clean for around a year. He didn’t even want the booze.

Yet, it didn’t stop him from agreeing to the idea, even if he promised himself we would not
touch his own drink.

The thing was, he wasn’t in a hurry per se. After a year of a house arrest enjoying the
possibility of being out quite anywhere. The club, filled with the heavy combination of
scents; of so suffocating—scoring at the very top of his list of sweet gratification. Working
well for his Inner Omega, hungry for sensation.

Given the chance, Bakugou should have refused. Not to nod and go along with his
companion. Instead of lingering around—just grab that quirky man and drag him out so they
could fuck.

If one tried to point out the exact moment shit went down, there’s no doubt it’d be it.

While the Alpha nursed his own drink Bakugou reserved himself to observe him with droopy
eyes.

Upon closer inspection, he was more pretty than handsome. Which, in turn, made Bakugou
think of Shouto—his lovely face, no longer so indifferent, but more often than not adorned
with a bright smile. His funnily mismatched eyes, gleaming with merit. Stupidly dyed white
hair; turning him into a cheap version of Snow White. They already got two dwarves to act
the part, and Bakugou would lie to deny that in passing he had not considered the possibility
of creating another five... Oh god, he was horny. Positively starved. Thinking nonsense about
someone that wasn’t even there, instead of just acting upon his urges.
“Oi,” Bakugou called. Getting up to finally speed things up...

When the sudden pull on his shoulder sat him right back.

“What do we have here? The new voice chirped. Tightening the grip on Bakugou’s arm.
“You, Stray,” he addressed the Surfer Boy. “Get lost.”

It was a weird request. Bakugou would laugh if not for a terrified stare his companion sent
his way before scarpering faster than Bakugou could blink. Completely ruining every single
one of a girlish fantasies about a knight in shining armour, always there to the rescue. Making
Bakugou scowl, ‘cause what the fuck, before he tried to turn around and give a newcomer
some piece of his mind.

Only to shut up at once as the familiar image of a blue snake assaulted his view.

It caught Bakugou by surprise. That’s probably why instead of forging ignorance he gasped
softly, gaining himself an undivided attention of a stranger.

“Baby, you’re just my type,” The man, Alpha, supplied his traitorous brain, said. “I saw you
across the dance floor. You're taunting. Begging me to come and snatch you up.”

Fuck. Sicko alarm. It’s even worse when an Alpha’s involved; with their narcissistic
tendencies and far too-high self-esteem making the situation almost impossible to resolve
without them snapping and resorting to violence.

Bakugou didn’t want to get involved. “I think I’ll just go—”

“Sit down,” he snared. Freezing Bakugou in place. Not because of his Alpha’s Command, he
apparently used to try to force him into submission, but due to the sudden rotten smell
emitting from his body; screaming malice. “Such a good boy.”

Okay, the situation was weird and Bakugou needed to get himself out of it ASAP.

“Wouldn’t think of leaving so soon if I were you.” Not really a convincing warning. “You
recognized this, didn’t you?” A tattoo was shown to Bakugou. Awful neon-blue snake on his
companion’s wrist laughing at his face. “It’s a mark. Claim of importance,” the man bragged.
“And I’m a pretty important guy, you know?”

Bakugou highly doubted that. Not only because the guy appeared to be a total moron. Most
importantly—Bakugou used to be affiliated in a way many could only dream of. Getting
acquainted with anyone that truly mattered. And this fellow definitely wasn’t on the list.

Still, he was away for some while. Things may have changed. And even if they did not, it
was better to be cautious.

He didn’t want to cause a scene in the open and alarm the whole organisation of his presence.

“So, why don’t you sit your pretty ass down and finish that drink while we talk?”

It didn’t look good.

Bakugou couldn’t move even if he wanted to; under the close inspection. The guy’s
scrutinising him like an unexpectedly promising meal. Humming happily as the booze burned
Bakugou’s throat.

It was just one drink. Bakugou refused to humour anyone; instead attempting to finish it as
fast as possible and scram. If he still refused to let him go after it—Bakugou intended to beat
his nasty ass, consequences be damned. He just needed to get him in a more secluded area,
which shouldn’t be hard given he was already drooling all over him. If they as much as leave
the club together Bakugou would make sure to make him regret that.

“Are you shy, pet?” The guy wouldn't shut up. “If you keep it up I may think you’re ignoring
me.”

“You’re not the brightest, are you?” Bakugou shot back. Never one to play nice. “Yakking
and yakking, and yakking...”

All of a sudden, his throat went dry.

His muscles relaxed, his jaw getting slack while his mouth kept moving, almost bitting his
tongue off. His eyelids dropped and blinking the fatigue away felt like an already lost battle.
The world spun, once, then twice. Making it impossible to focus. To properly register there’re
hands on his body. They grabbed him, jerking him up from his seat. Holding onto him harder
than necessary while dragging him out. It was bizarre. So wrong. Despite the hazy sending
his mind into a panic mood.

Not good. Not good.

Panicking would get you killed, Dabi warned him once. Never sugarcoating the harsh truth.
You’ll get yourself all worked up and forget to think. Falling straight into their hands. No one
will help you then, so don’t rely on it.

If you want to live, you have to save yourself, Suki...

Starting with getting your shit together.

Bakugou bit his tongue. Hard. Drawing blood, with pain regaining some clarity. Due to a
sudden adrenaline rush able to overcome the black spots taking over his vision, and once
again breathe properly. There’s a tingle in his limbs and he could work with that too.

They’re already outside, moving towards a dark alley and Bakugou’s struck with the
realisation. It was not an uncommon situation for Omegas to find themselves in, but it’s
exceptionally new for Bakugou himself. No one dared to bug him (not to even mention
harassing) while he was still with Dabi; scared of his plain possessiveness and gun behind his
belt stock. When he spent time with Shouto, they tended to avoid him too; snaring at his pups
as if personally offended. Probably more into the young, unmatted type of Omegas.

But Bakugou wasn’t even in the middle of his twenties. He was still 23; young and fine,
without the permanent mark on his nape and a bond affecting his scent. It was additionally
spiked after he gave birth as if to assure of his ferity, but he made sure to conceal it. Bathing
himself with the scent-neutralising soap not to carry around the smell of his pups and put
them in an unnecessary danger because he wanted to get laid.

Which pretty much had put him at the risk. As he was about to get assaulted.

“You just had asked for it,” The guy chirped, strengthening his grip. “I saw you— you
wouldn't stop looking at me. All that hungry. Filthy, aren’t you? Just like the rest of you
Omegas. Always dreaming of the Alphas’ dicks.”

Bakugou snickered at that. He shouldn’t but couldn’t really help himself. His body and mind
barely connect at this point. He felt dizzy, and despite the circumstances, it happened only to
humour him more, because damn. Someone had drugged him. What’s more—tried to talk
him into obedience; doing nothing but justifying his sorry-ass. Expecting Bakugou to just go
along with it, and what? Take responsibility for him being a sore loser-human garbage?

No. Freaking. Way.

“Sure thing, but damn. It seems all of my hopes went to waste as I got a pussy instead.”

His mother had always told him that because of his bad mouth he would have it coming. She
wasn’t that wrong, Bakugou realised, as the guy stopped abruptly. Slowly turning around to
give him one of those glares, before shoving Bakugou’s face straight into the cold wall of the
building.

“You’re gonna regret that.”

He may have. In the future. Back then feeling no remorse for elbowing a dear fellow in his
ugly face as he forgot to restrain Bakugou’s hand properly.

“Stupid bitch!” he roared. Distracted enough for Bakugou to break free and turn around
before dashing forward. There’re little strength left in his body when they collided with a
loud thud. “Has no one ever taught you your fucking place?!”

How he hated that. Alphas that always sputtered rubbish about their “rightful place”, their
“rightful rights”, and their “rightful superiority”. Somehow blind and obvious to the
possibility that if they couldn’t handle strong-minded Omegas, it’s their sore problem, and
it’d probably be about time they fucked off?

“I’m gonna show you your place.” Bakugou knew he had to fight him off. Yet unable to
protect himself when a hand reached for his neck, squeezing it painfully. Sharp nails clawing
at his scent glands making him cry out in pain. “You like that, don’t you?” he snarled. “Dirty
whore.”

For all his ridiculing, The Guy seemed to grow aggravated, Bakugou noted absently. He
hadn’t done anything just yet, watching, waiting. Clinging to Bakugou’s body as if to hold
him still rather than really get things going. Despite his upper hand appearing uneasy,
questioning something and clearly losing with his own thoughts.

“Feeling hot, slut?”

Strange question... Unless.

The drug was clearly not working as it was supposed to.

“Freezing actually,” Bakugou spat out each word. Fighting to keep his breath under control.
“Sad, innit? Such a turn-off.”

He didn’t expect a slap. It made his right cheek sting and his ears ring. Dulling his bravery.

“I’ll choke you if you don’t shut up!”

Should it surprise anyone that Bakugou did the exact opposite—screaming bloody.

Crying for help came as humiliating, but Bakugou was beyond caring. In no state to deny his
fear and vulnerability. Feeling helpless. Degraded. Petrified, people would ignore him either
way, leaving him on the mercy of some psycho.

The attempt cost him another slap across the face. At this point Bakugou felt hysterical and
may have actually burst into laughter, when someone near them cleared their throat.
Shocking them to the same extent, as they stared into each other's eyes for some heavy
seconds, before his assaulter regained his composure, in a pointed way narrowing his hold on
Bakugou’s neck.

“The fuck you wa—” Was spatted, or rather intended to, before the guy turned his head to the
side and instantly cut himself off. Eyes wide open in a horrified awareness. “Boss,” he
faltered and Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat.

There was no way... Just no fucking way.

He was dizzy and no longer could see straight but hadn’t even had to look to recognize the
sudden scent overwhelming his senses. So powerful and potent, calling out to his Omega.

Making Bakugou feel things, and something about the realisation itself made him heated up.

The Guy’s eyes snapped back to him almost instantly.

“So the drug’s finally working... Guess I won’t need to roughen you up so badly anymore—”

Something hot splashed in Bakugou’ face and he unconsciously raised his hand to wipe it off.
Only for it to come back red. Making his breath quicken as he understood that it was nothing
else but blood, while the man in front of him hit the ground with a loud thump.

“Scum.” Was all Dabi had to say before cocking his gun away.

Would he shoot him too?, Bakugou couldn’t help but wonder. Suddenly conscious of his dyed
black hair and light contact lenses. To Dabi he may appear as nothing but a stranger. An
inconvenient witness he’d have to get rid of.

“Are you all right, kid?” He had asked and Bakugou would’ve laughed for comparing him to
a kid if not for a lump in his throat. “You’re shaking,” Dabi pointed out. Without warning
moving in his direction, only for Bakugou to jerk back abruptly as something within him
twitched with excitement.

“Don’t come any closer,” Bakugou rasped out.

Trying hard to subdue the heat and falling rather miserably as Dabi completely ignored him
to reduce the distance between them. Casually reaching out for his chin to raise his head and
have a proper look at him.

“You’re burning.”

Some bloody lunatic had just drugged him so really no surprise here. “Not your fucking
business.”

And wasn’t Dabi just amused, giving him an all-teeth smile?

“It kinda is if you’re gonna get jumped again as soon as I take my eyes off you. Especially
that I just saved you.”

“No one asked you to.”

“Happy coincidence.”

Bakugou had no time for this. Wishing for nothing more than for Dabi to just leave him
alone. Not to move closer, pressed Bakugou into his chest and released his fucking
pheromones.

“Oi asshole! What the hell are you—”

The loud moan escaped him before he got to finish that statement. His whole body responsive
to the proximity of his mate, set on luring him closer. He smelt amazing and Bakugou mouth
water on their own, dying to take a bite.

“Trying to calm down your body.”

Bulshit, is what Bakugou would call it, perfectly aware of the slick dripping down his legs.
Dabi must have been too, if his flashing nostril were any telling.

“You’re making me horny,” Bakugou hissed as if they both hadn’t known that already.
Making Dabi snort.

“That would be a problem, wouldn’t it?” Was he fucking with him? “Do you need some help
there...?”

“Are you trying to assault me?”

“Not my thing,” he assured. “But I have a weak-spot for bad-mouthed Omegas.”

Okay, Bakugou really needed to go. To get as far away as possible from this shit-show his life
apparently turned out to be.
Not to sneer; the sound ugly even in his own ears, before lifting his chin to stare Touya down.
“Lucky them.”

There was a shift in the air as they locked eyes. The goosebumps rose on Bakugou’s skin and
his breath quickened. The heat’s unbearable, threatening to consume him all. He was already
half out of it when his hands outstretched towards Touya, trying to lock him in a hug.
Bakugou was trembling, in a desperate need of stabilisation, but more than anything craved
to just feel the outline of those fine muscles under his palms.

“He’s going into Heat,” Another voice called out. Putting Bakugou in an instant freeze. “I’d
recommend stepping away and taking your suppressant sir.”

How he missed Higa, always lurking in Dabi’s shadow, was not that important—he never
paid him much mind to begin with, so it’s fine. What’s truly important was the impact the
unexpected interruption had on the atmosphere. Bringing focus into Dabi’s eyes, prior
clouded due to the desire. Pressuring something in Bakugou, some primal and feral part of
his being, into acting out. Whining quite desperately in the face of rejection, and releasing a
wave of thick pheromones.

Coming Dabi to a sudden halt.

“Suki?” he whispered. Just as surprised as Bakugou, who must have leaked through his scent
blocker.

The realisation was dreadful. Cooling down Bakugou’s raging hormones.

“What?” Bakugou choked out at the same time the hands wrapped up around his middle.
Holding him tight. “You say you like* me?”

Not that he was fooling anyone, coming apart under the sharp eyes taking in his face. His
softened features, healthier than ever complexion, added freckles, and trail of blood straining
his cheeks. Fake blue eyes that remained just as cutting as usually. Plump lips begging for a
kiss.

Dabi was on him in a blink, with a soft, “Don’t I always?” reducing the space between them.
Kissing him like a starved man, in desperate search of water. Drinking him up and savouring
the taste. With his tongue forcing Bakugou to fold and just give in, opening before him like a
flower would for the first ray of sunshine after the long winter. Making him pant and lean
even closer, as if it would allow them to merge into one by the pure force of will.

“I've finally found you,” Touya relished between kisses.

Hissing it so dangerously low his canines started showing, hitting Bakugou with a sudden
realisation. He would probably get bitten in no time.

Just as Higa sighed, knowing better than to interrupt them again, getting ready to dispose of a
body no one seemed to really mind.
Chapter End Notes

*In Japanese the word “suki” (好き) means “to like” or “to love”. It’s commonly used to
confess one’s love. It sounds less romantic than “daisuki” and “aishiteru” though. While
Dabi calls Bakugou that way to shorten his name and show affection, in this situation
Bakugou tried to use it as a distraction.

Kudo for my man Higa—poor soul that in the past probably saw them fuck on a daily
basis, had to put up with their bullshit and *gently reminder* got himself shot 'cause of
it once xD
 Doomsday
Chapter Summary

“I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”

Chapter Notes

So I’m supposed to write for my Master's Degree but here I am~

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“It’s the first time you have escaped from me for so long.”

The world was spiralling. Leaving Bakugou all-dizzy and light-headed. He was floating;
swaying from side to side, too out of it to even care. Settling only when a pair of strong arms
coated him in; his jelly-like-bones giving in easily to the firmness of the hold. Hands on his
back grounding against the uproar of Bakugou’s mind. It gave purpose to his hollowness;
igniting the fire in the pit of his stomach. Heat that rose, and spread, and burned, burned,
burned, burned, until it erupted, taking Bakugou with it.

Everything hurt. Pricking at Bakugou’s skin as if it was not his to begin with. He wanted to
peel it off, layer after layer. Wipe off the sense of wrongness clinging to his body. Claw at it
and tear it off. Remove everything and become bare.

He must have been feverish as he could not stop shaking from the chills running through his
body. Unable to breath properly with his throat convulsing on its own. Making him gasp for
air as a low pitiful whine forced its way out his mouth.

Shhh, someone whispered. Picking him up with ease. I got you, they promised.

He wanted to believe them. Having no strength left in himself to fight them off. He needed to
believe them. Clinging to them as if his life depended on it.

Hold on to me.

Their limbs tangled together almost on their own violin; Bakugou’s legs wrapped around the
pointy hips with practiced ease. His position secured by a hand on his bottom, while the other
creeped its way under his shirt. Tracing the path of Bakugou’s spine—up and down, up and
down—with light strokes bringing to life every fibre of his being.

He wanted it to stop. He wanted it to never end.

Someone called his name. Or at least Bakugou thought so, not really acknowledging it. It
sounded more like a buzzing. Drowning out in compassion to the roar of blood in his veins.

“Suki.” The same voice repeated. Deep and sultry. Methodically drawing him in. “Look at
me.”

There’s no point arguing. Still, it bothered him. He might have even said that much aloud if
the annoyed huff of his companion was anything to go by. Regrettably, Bakugou was no
quitter, and as the second ticked away he was rather set on keeping his eyes shut just in spite.

He intended to. Not really expecting a sudden pinch to his bum.

Jerking him up so violently he almost choked on the first solid breath he took in a while.

“Breathe,” Touya asked.

And Bakugou’s brain circuited.

It wasn’t just a fever dream—Touya was here. He was real and within reach. Slowly backing
them away to the wall until Bakugou’s back met the hard surface. Staring him down with
those turquoise eyes, their lips barely centimetres apart.

“Come on.” He was so close. Exhaling the same air Bakugou’s supposed to inhale. Oblivious
to his struggle, bringing his face even closer to gently nudge his nose with his own. “Breathe
with me.”

It’s soft. Almost pleading. Stunning Bakugou to the point of complying.

His pain flared as he drew a shaky breath, sniffing in surrounding smells. There’s blood—its
distinct, metallic tang unmistakable in the night’s air. Clutching to Bakugou’s clothes as the
last memento of some douchebag’s life. Soon it’d be a strong odour of death and urine, but he
won’t be there to experience it firsthand. Not with the rich scent pouring out Touya; so musky
it made Bakugou’s head spin. The pheromones luring him in with a promise of unspeakable
things.

The hunger was overwhelming. Shocking Bakugou, who must have unconsciously held his
breath, as he got scolded right away. “In and out, Bakugou.”

“Shut up,” he barked. Jerking forward to make his point crystal clear. With his lips,
demanding compliance.

Backing away just as fast; with a stingy bite to his lower lip facing the utter betrayal. “What
the fuck!” Bakugou sputtered with a sudden sobriety. With a painful ache regaining some
senses.

“You’re going into heat.” There was no point to deny that. They both knew the symptoms.
Even if this one was forced rather than natural—it was heat all the same. “And I really need
you to focus first.”
There’s a question to be asked. Bakugou could’ve felt it in the air. The storm on the horizon;
—impossible to avoid; sweeping them away with a bitter truth. It’s terrifying, as Bakugou
knew it’d bring nothing but disappointment and resentment. After all, it had kept him awake
at nights for almost a year after their separation.

Where were you?

Why did you leave?
How could you do this?
Was it worth it?
Why did you come back?

Why did you lie,

promising me forever?

“It’s your choice,” Touya said instead. Catching Bakugou off guard. “Do you want this?”

A tricky question. Making Bakugou think back to how it’s all started.

He remembered Touya when he was barely twenty-two. On his way to conquer the world.
Starting small—with a cheeky grin plastered to his handsome face asserting Bakugou from
across the room. They met young; falling with each other with an ease of most occurrences
that’re imminent yet doomed to fall. They weren't each other’s first, yet Touya carried
himself with the absolute confidence of someone certain it didn’t matter as long as he’d be
his last. This self-assured egocentric bastard... Prat, that’s both insufferable and effortless to
be with; despite his violent tendencies and shady background, stealing Bakugou’s heart all
the same.

Seven years later, Touya’s just as breathtaking as always. With time becoming even sharper
around the edges. Like a marble statue appearing untouchable to the outside world.
Regarding it with indifference and coldness in his eyes. Fooling anyone but Bakugou. Not
when they’re this close and he cannot hide the truth. The warmth of his hands. The shakiness
of his hold. The desire, desperation, fear, and pain.

Would he truly let Bakugou go if asked? Did Bakugou even want him to?

“I’m no good man Suki.”

Yet Bakugou chose him. Willingly, over and over again. Until he did not. Wishing for
something else. Starting anew from scratch.

Instantly, Shouto’s face popped inside his mind, along with Hajime’s toothless smile and
Amaya’s not yet fully mastered scowl. His new family. The life they built together. The
reality he had to face sooner or later. How could he move on, while despite everything he
grew to love them too? He was quite miserable for a half time they spent together, unable or
unwilling to let Touya go, only until recently learning to appreciate them properly. Yet, never
one to forget what he left behind, as his pups grew, with every passing day resembling Touya
more and more.
“If you allow me this, I'll never let you go again.”

They’d wasted so much time already. Maybe, just maybe, they didn’t have to anymore...

Bakugou’s love had not changed much and neither did he. This was what he wanted. What he
always wanted. The truth he would be seeking today, tomorrow, and till the end of it, with his
last dying breath set on bringing it back. It was his to pursue, to treasure and shatter. He could
live without it, but never intended to. Shaped by Touya’s words, thoughts, and hands.

He’d always want this.

“Then don’t,” he whispered, bracing himself.

They’re face to face. Too close for anyone’s comfort but unable to pull away. Bakugou’s long
gone; finding it impossible to stop staring. The proximity of those turquoise eyes breaking
down the walls he oh-so-carefully built around his heart. They pierced through his very core,
bringing him back alive.

At that precise moment Bakugou decided he’s going down. With his eyes wide-open, and
mind clearer than ever, despite the heat’s fog spreading back in.

The kiss ain’t sweet. It’s forceful, more teeth than actual kissing, leaving Bakugou breathless.
He’s also probably bleeding when Dabi leaned closer, licking along his abused lower lip. “As
you command.” And Bakugou realised he wasn’t above begging for him to never stop.

Bakugou lost touch with reality not so long after.

Dabi on the other hand was perfectly collected and focused. Not on a dead gang member
around the corner—that didn’t bother him all that much, outside of a fact he already regretted
killing him off so swiftly instead of slowly cutting him to pieces; boiling inside on a thought
of his dirty hands on any Omega, especially Bakugou; trying to force himself upon someone
Dabi considered his—nor Higa giving him a pointed side-eye as he tried to find his way
inside Bakugou’s leather pants. No, all his attention belonged to a certain Omega, trying to
suck out the soul of his body in a most vicious way. Quite dedicated to the task, even when
Dabi engaged only partially, mulling over the possible outcomes of this opportunity. Not just
a quickie in an alley—that he still intended to participate in, mind you—but the real and
important ones.

After almost a year and a half Dabi not only found Bakugou, but also got him in his hand.
What’s even better—for Touya, not the poor Omega; but nothing’s really perfect—he was
wasted. Enough not to risk it all and try to run away from Dabi as soon as he spotted him, but
what’s unexpected—coming to him willingly. It wasn’t the sincerest reconciliation one
could’ve dreamed of—Omegas in their pre-heats tended to lie their way through one’s bed if
necessary until satisfied—but Dabi would take it.
He could work with it after all. Starting right away, suddenly pulling back to ask, “Where’s
Shouto?”

“Subtle,” Bakugou snored. Clearly not as delirious as Touya considered him to be. Deciding
to fix it right away, with a measured thrust of his hips challenging his composure. Deeming it
successful as a beautiful moan blessed his ears.

“Where’s Shouto?” He repeated.

Not quite satisfied with, “Out of town,” but letting it slide for a time being.

“What’re you doing here, then?” It was obvious but Dabi couldn’t help but to be petty. “Still
fooling around I see.”

A bold thing to say by someone that's currently holding him against the wall, screaming ‘the
audacity!’ louder than Bakugou’s half dazed glare ever could. Not that he cared about being
fair, set on acquiring information one way or another. The heat would lock them together for
a few days but to ensure Bakugou couldn’t leave him afterwards he needed at least basic
knowledge.

“You’re this unhappy?”

He barely felt the kick it earned him but absorbed every word leaving Bakugou’s mouth. “I
wasn’t faithful to you either.”

“A simplification.” Touya clicked his tongue. “You messed around knowing I’d come for
you. You expected me to. It was all fun and games, I admit.” He was competitive and loved
bringing back home the best prize. Besides, it’s not like he could’ve ever lost. Shouto’s on the
other hand. “But you calculated this—Shouto’s out of town. Unable to come and snatch you
away. You basically surrender yourself to me—the Big Bad Alpha outhere.”

His words were doing things to Bakugou’s cock. Given how close they’re, he could feel it
against his pelvis. Touya missed it. Wanting nothing more but to undress them both and bury
himself into the heat of his body. Especially as Bakugou started rocking his hips, moaning
wantonly.

“Admit it and we can move on,”

“Fuck me,” Bakugou rasped out instead. Hands flying to Dabi’s zipper. Only to get swayed
away. “I’ll be much happier then.”

Wrong answer. To emphasise his point Dabi simply let Bakugou go. Not really expecting the
other to hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Having no control over own body; apparently
until this point depending fully on Dabi.

“What’s wrong with you,” Bakugou whined. Too spent to even bitch around and throw a
proper fit. Surprisingly agreeable to the new situation. Collecting himself to sit up with his
legs dragged to his chest. Hugging them closely. “You bloody bastard–”

“Talking about fathers,” Dabi piped in right away. “Is Enji involved in this?”
It resembled more of an interrogation than a long awaited reunion. Pissing off Bakugou’s
Inner Omega, cause how dare he? Wasn’t Bakugou alluring enough to sweep Touya off his
feet? Why was he the one on the ground? He even lowered himself to pleading. Was a
revenge the only thing that’s important to Dabi? Maybe he was wrong. His stupid heat-dazed
head calling the shots. Making him believe some fairy-tales bullshit about hardship of love
and the happy ever after...

Fuck, he wanted that dick.

“Oh, he could be if you won’t come back here. He’s a little too old for my standards, but who
knows? Maybe a man would do me good.”

Touya barked a laugh at that. Hovering above Bakugou like a vulture. Without a rush
awaiting the inevitable demise. “Touche Bakugou. But I can’t be on your beck and call
forever. You have to give me something too.”

So, he was not enough. Irrational as the thought was, it swiftly settled in, causing him
distress. He was going into heat for fuck's sake, he wasn’t supposed to be reasonable. No, at
this point he’s meant to be a whimpering mess, thanks to an Alpha rolling with him in the bed
sheets. Away from prying eyes, in the nest he itched to build. To feel secured and fulfilled.
Not to sit on a dirty pavement, alone and unwanted.

Bakugou would never admit to the tears pricking his eyes. Not even as he sobbed, “I hate
you,” unable to any longer pretend it didn’t matter.

“I know,” Touya said. Face stone-still but his resolve slowly crumbling under the Bakugou’s
gut wrenching smell.

Probably about to give in when Higa popped right in front of his eyes, blocking his view of
Bakugou’s slumped figure. “Sir please. The suppressant.”

Was that his way of telling Dabi he’s being manipulated? True, taking his dosage of
suppressants wouldn’t stop him from fucking Bakugou stupid, but help him remain focus.
More aware not to give in completely, perceiving Omega’s words with basic reservation. It
would give him the kind of control he desperately needed, weak in the face of his instincts
and feelings.

Still, the desire to give in, let himself loose and truly connect with his mate was just as
overwhelming. Ringing the alarm bells inside Higa’s head who must have read him like an
open book. “It’ll cause your Rut, sir. You’ll go feral.”

The Rut itself wasn’t that bad. Dabi would probably just pin Bakugou down to the bed and go
on with it. Without a doubt mark him in the process. Keep him busy and blissful enough to
fill him up with pups as the contraception wears off slowly. Bond them together for once and
good. They could work on details later—right here and now Bakugou felt just as eager as
Touya was to make that happen.

On the other hand, Touya wasn’t an animal. There’s not much he would regret doing if it
would assured Bakugou to stay with him forever. But, he promised himself to be better than
that. To start clean. Not to go feral and accidentally rip Bakugou’s throat off in the middle of
it.

“Fine,” he sighed. Allowing the older and wiser man to handle him over the syringe he
carried around for this very particular reason. Infecting himself just as Bakugou stirred again
from his place on the floor, mewling softly and clutching Touya’s heart.

“One last thing sir,” Okay, so Dabi actually considered ripping someone’s throat off now.
“We’re in a district with lots of assets wandering around, that are valuable to Inferno. I’d
kindly recommend moving this exchange somewhere else.”

“I won’t shoot someone just because they were unlucky and bumped into us.”

Unimpressed is what Higa was, “Surely. But if, hypothetically speaking, they’d had smelled
the heat on Mr. Bakugou—”

He growled without even thinking about it. Embarrassing himself and proving Higa’s point
just fine. Due to some stupid Alpha’s instincts becoming more possessive and vivid than
usual. Edgy with how he could help the Omega to feel better yet did nothing of such.

“We’ll move,” Dabi barked out. “In the meantime —I want you to find out everything you
can about our dear deceased. Who’s he acquainted with; who provided him with this drug;
who else was involved in this and knew what he’s doing but didn’t bat an eye —I want them
all.” The main culprit may be dead, but with the rest they would take their sweet time getting
to know each other.

But it’s a problem for another time. For now, he had to handle something far more important.

Slowly approaching the curled up body before he remembered something else. “Oh, and one
more thing,” he mused. The bloodthirst not easing from his voice. “Not a word of this to
anyone; Enji included.”

He wouldn’t risk it. Not with the plans forming inside his head, begging to be set in motion.

“Bakugou,” he whispered. Kneeling in front of tormented Omega with an outstretched hand.

“Answer me and I’ll take you away from here.”

The smell flared up as he moved closer but subdued again as soon as he had spoken. The
conflict between the rational and emotional part of his brain’s clear in the restlessness of his
body. Bakugou wasn’t just any Omega—he hated submitting, admitting defeat and losing.
Flipping out in case there's something he's meant to do that fitted all of the above. More keen
on using others to his own advantage than allowing them the possibility to do the same.
Against the challenge he deemed impossible sinking low.

“I love you.”

It was not enough. But Touya didn’t expect much from him to begin with, taking pity upon
the miserable sight he presented. With a quick motion collecting him inside his arms. “You
don’t,” he said. Stifling any arising protest with a haste kiss. “But that’s all right.”
 He knew how to play this game. How to settle Bakugou's worries down and let himself be
used as he’d pleased. How to trap him, taking them both to the point of no return.

“You will.”

Chapter End Notes

All comments are much appreciated ♡

 The Stork
Chapter Summary

If you were expecting a sweet reconciliation there's a surprise for you. Nothing's ever
quite that easy for Bakugou.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“You will.”

There was a whisper of a promise in Bakugou's mind. Playing itself on repeat; sickeningly
sweet. Oh, how easy it was to give in. To lose himself between the sensation of burning–
wanting–needing. To agree, then disagree, only to forget, and to simply be. The heat took him
apart, leaving nothing but a bare sense of belonging. He was blue and black. Sometimes red.
Painted in the colours of the other man.

He let him go once and had no desire to live through it again. So he held on tight. Set on
leaving behind everything else instead.

Waking up was a rather unfortunate experience for Bakugou. His mind foggy and body
completely beaten. The sense of belonging long gone; replaced by quite a peculiar feeling of
unease.

A strange feeling. Further multiplied by a glare boring into his very soul.

It was a sobering realisation. Making Bakugou jerk forward. Only to be pulled back down
instantly, as something yanked back his hand; wrist scraping against the cold metal. The
unexpected resistance combined with the sheer force of his movement enough to tear off
skin.

“Goddammit!” Bakugou cursed as his eyes shot open. He was in an unfamiliar room, with a
very familiar figure laying there, right beside him on the bed. Watching as he made a fool of
him, well–aware it was all in vain. Allowing him to just take his time and figure it all out for
himself. “Did you... Handcuffed me?”

Dabi did. Neither denying nor confirming it directly but Bakugou never really needed it to
comprehend the meaning of such a gesture. A cold stare fixated on his face enough of an
answer.
“You cannot keep me here,” Bakugou reasoned weakly. Panic creeping in. “Touya you can’t.”

At that moment Bakugou reminded Dabi of a lamb. A small, docile creature, waiting to be
devoured. It sensed the danger and wanted to avoid it but somehow always ended up where it
shouldn’t. Despite its will to fight, for a predator like him serving itself on a silver plate.
Naive. Breakable. Pliant under the right amount of pressure.

Watch me, Todoroki wanted to say. Having no time to actually do so as Bakugou started to
thrash around in bed, trying to get free. Not thinking it through as it was obviously
impossible and only hurt him in the process. Forcing Touya to move and immobilise him
once and for good before he would accidentally slice his wrists and make an even bigger
mess bleeding out for naught.

“Calm down,” he barked out. Straddling the poor Omega to keep him still, their hands
intertwined together. “Get a grip and we will talk like civilised people.”

Bakugou laughed hysterically. He dared to talk about being civilised while pinning him down
and threatening his freedom? How typical. He was always such a hypocrite. Doing whatever
he liked and condemning Bakugou for the very same thing. Acting like a know–it–all control
freak, missing its favourite toy despite breaking it himself just prior.

Would he hurt him? Bakugou wasn’t sure. Until then, he never did, at least unasked and
excessively, but there was something strange about Touya just then, creating doubts. He
seemed detached. Face straight and thin lips. One would have thought that after the night
spent together he would have been over the moon for Bakugou, acting all that lovey–dovey.
Trying to win him over with some doting, pampering and slight manipulation just for
appearances’ sake. A little self–reflection about being shitty in the past wouldn’t hurt him
either. But this, whatever this was, wasn’t it.

No, it was calculated. Dabi’s intentions’ unclear. While Bakugou came to him willingly—
coherent enough when it mattered the most—Touya instead of coaxing him with sweet
promises chose to immobilise him instead.

“I bit you or something?” Bakugou tried. Cautious not to give away too much.

Touya seemed to consider it for a moment before chuckling bitterly. “You certainly tried to.
Not like you really had a chance.”

Did he not only handcuffed him but also muffled him while at it?

“If your dirty sock ended anywhere near my mouth, Touya, I swear to god—”

The laugh was more genuine now. “No socks. I promise.” Unfortunately it died down just as
fast. “How are you feeling?”

Now that he mentioned it, Bakugou realised he was in fact not only exhausted, but also
strangely sore and nauseous. Like, as if he wanted to sleep and gag at the same time. Was it a
new kind of hangover? Or maybe some weird side–effects of the drug that possibly triggered
his heat? Shit, he almost forgot about that.
“I was in heat, wasn’t I?”

The silence was somehow eerie for what Bakugou assumed was a rhetorical question.

“For a moment, yes.” Whatever that meant. Not enough for Bakugou who with a pointed
glare prodded him to elaborate. “There were, um. Unexpected complications. But Takamura
suspects that the drug itself wasn’t dangerous.”

Takamura as Takamura Haruto, Todoroki Touya’s personal underground medical? He got a

doctor to poke and prod at him while he slept? To inspect his body with a keen eye and
uncover heavens knows what, in the line of his scars and stretch marks? Was that why Touya
was so pissed? Has bloody Takamura caught a glimpse of truth in Bakugou’s body and
decided to share the news with Dabi?

Did he suspected something about the twins?

Amaya had barely started using her spoon to eat her food and not to catapult it straight in
Hajime's face. They’re still pure and carefree. Growing surrender with people that loved them
unconsciously, without the slightest expectations as to their future. When it came to Enji it
surprised Bakugou, given that the man has literally beaten the yakuza code of honour into his
firstborn son, twisting his perception about children and their purpose. But now, outside of
his antics, acted as if anything didn’t matter as long as both of his grandchildren were healthy
and safe. Just a tad excessively encouraging them to play with the sticks. For once, even
daring to bring along with him an antique katana to show off—before he was swiftly and
utterly pacified by Shouto.

Even if Bakugou and twins were to separate, with Shouto they would be all right on their
own, Bakugou was sure of it. To be honest, he wasn’t doing well fitting in his role as a
mother nor father. It was harsh, but impossible to deny. Hajime, thankfully, hasn't
remembered much of his early days; acting like a constant ray of sunshine. He was always
smiling upon seeing Bakugou, calling him “Pa–pa” and demanding huggies. A true little
angel capable of forgiving Bakugou's worst of crimes. Amaya on the other hand, well,
Bakugou fucked up that one. It was expected with the whole knife accident. Not only a small
scar on her right cheek serving as a memento of her dad’s madness. She couldn’t remember
the accident itself, but she changed. She seemed too preserved and composed for a child,
never crying unless truly hurt. Not shunning away from Bakugou, but weirdly wary of him.
He traumatised his not even two years old daughter. What a joke.

So what if Touya already learned about his pregnancy. Bakugou would do anything in his
power to convince him the baby didn’t make it. The hard labour and miscarriage—he would
lie through his gritted teeth. Dabi wanted to lock him away? So be it. Bakugou would do
anything to keep the twins away from the man. And if occupying all of his attention was the
main goal, Bakugou had years of practice in doing just so.

“It still doesn’t explain why you would call up a doctor,” Bakugou said. Set on a different
approach. “Were you so put off by my advantages that you decided I needed medical
attention?”

“It was rather charming. Seeing you all that eager. Getting on your knees, just for me.”
Dammit. Bakugou would pay to remember at least that much, treating those memories as a
consolation prize in the face of a future solace. A good dick was a good dick after all, and
Bakugou got his favourites, sue him.

“Well, charming at first, I would rather say.”

Well, okay, maybe his favourite dick was just a prick in the end. One hell of a nasty man–
child, acting all mighty and petty because Bakugou dumped his sorry ass and he just couldn’t
move on and find someone better, as he was a bloody loser–

“Like you on your knees—But you weren’t that impressive,” Bakugou imitated Touya.
Sneering underneath him. “I fucked you ‘cause you asked. Don’t think you're so special,” he
carried on. Unbothered by the raised eyebrows. “Nada, nada. All I hear is a liar’s bitching.”
He didn’t even need reassurance. All of a sudden, he was just feeling salty. “You love my
throat. I’d suck you off until you fucking cried. On a daily basis. It doesn’t even count as an
exception anymore; it’s a bloody given. A principle, if you like. I deepthroat you—you start
bawling. You’re a full–ass–grown man who’d not stop sobbing–”

“You bloody puked.”

A moment of dead silence. Apparently, for Bakugou’s dignity. Until he uttered, “Hai?”,
unable to comprehend much more.

“You smelt my dick, then puked. I took that personally.” How could he not. Even Bakugou
admitted that heat–struck–him had a lot of balls. “You were throwing up like crazy. I thought
you may be dying. Thus, Takamura.”

Which explained a lot and almost nothing. Bakugou was done for. He may even accept that
moving on. He tried to hook up with his ex and ended up hurling somewhere like a sore loser.
Maybe Touya didn’t even want him anymore and decided to handcuff him just in case.

“Amazing. So not only did I end up splitting out my organs, but we also didn’t do shit?
Takamura broke my heat off then?”

It wasn’t a tricky question. But Touya averting his gaze made it appear quite suspicious.

“What? I don’t feel it, but I’m still under it?”

“You can say so.” Bakugou wanted to kick him. Yes, Touya deserved a good solid kick for
playing difficult for no reason at all. He may have even told him that much, causing a man to
give him a rather cryptic stare, before he signed, clearly defeated. “This heat—it’s unnatural
and you shouldn’t have to experience it in the first place. It’s fucking with your body.” It
wasn’t as bad as Bakugou had previously expected. Unless Touya wanted to say he won’t
help him with it, and so, he’s on his own, there wasn’t really a problem, right?

“Do you. Want to like, spend it with me or shit?”

“Romantic as ever, but what did I expect?”

“I could rhyme you a poem,” Bakugou suggested. “One got ass, Two got two, Three is for me
fucking U.”

Touya looked close to tears now. Or despair. It could also be both.

“You’re in?” he asked. Not really waiting for a response as he tried to wiggle out from
underneath the other body and get them moving. Already answering for Touya, when a man
brought himself to do the same.

“You’re pregnant—”

“Amazing, let’s go—”

Yes, amazing. No.

Hold on. Hold on. Holdonholdonholdon.

He was what now?

“It's impossible,” Bakugou repeated. As for fifty times already. Deaf to Touya’s explanation.
“It’s completely and utterly impossible. You said we didn’t fuck. Even if you lied, you’re not
that great. You don’t have a super sperm, Todoroki. God, fuck you, Todorokis. I won’t be
fooled. Oh my, did you delude yourself into thinking that? It won’t keep me here. Do you
hear me!? I AM NOT PREGNANT WITH YOU BABY—”

The response came oddly quiet, “...I know.”

Oh. And Bakugou realised it only now.

Living with Shouto had its flaws and merits.

Generally, he was a major bother and a snoopy snoop, always trying to get into Bakugou's
head. He loved asking uncomfortable questions and reminiscing about the past. Ah, he also
picked on all Bakugou’s bad habits, rewarding them with his daily Shouto’s judgy–bitch face.
Something, Bakugou hoped, none of his children would take after him. Oh, let’s also focus
on that—the children; he was so invested in raising Amaya and Hajime, Bakugou felt as if he
was trying to steal them away. At the same time keen on insisting they were not his to begin
with, and that he would never even dare to try and compete with Bakugou, their actual parent.
Being not only a sore loser but also a liar, that bawled out his eyes when for the first time
they called him a “Dada”.

Which brought them to the strong points—Shouto was an A grade dad. A Pro Dad, Bakugou
liked to call him, in the safe space of his own mind. Sometimes, he envied him the ease with
which he handled those two mini people. Treating them fair and square while encouraging
them to learn new things. Supporting their growth without making any fuss. Talking with
them about “Baba-bu” and “Gugu-ga”, Bakugou understood nothing of, but to the twins
meant a serious deal.

He brought them together as a family, and helped to keep it intact. Taking upon himself a role
he was not meant to play in the first place.

As if all of that was not enough already, one day Bakugou decided to try his luck and go va
banque. Asking for more than should be expected from a friend. Getting a lot from Shouto,
so not really considering seeking more a problem. Because, what one small request may have
possibly changed?

A lot, as it turned out.

Bakugou hasn't planned it. He truly did not! He only asked if Shouto, being a respectful
Alpha and Foster Father of his children, would like to help the fellow Omega and the other
Father of said children, dealing with some personal matters.

Yes, he proposed for them to spend their heats and ruts together. It was a good bonding
experience, okay? And it’s not as if they didn’t sync already, due to them living together. It
was perfectly logical at the time! He may have been a little horny, and fairly eager, but it’s
not like Shouto opposed much. On the opposite, little fucker enjoyed himself more than he
probably should.

They shared about two mating cycles before Bakugou felt a sudden remorse.

Call him emotional (he was for a time being) or stupid (he definitely was; past Bakugou be
damned, they had some things to settle) but sleeping with a man that devoted all of his free
time to them—Bakugou, who ignored him for the most part of his live, and two little
creatures, not even connected to him by blood.. Did things to Bakugou. Mostly, he was sad
Shouto may be wasting away his life because of them. He was well–assured he loved both
Hajime and Amaya, but they weren’t really his, were they?

And Bakugou, Bakugou wanted to give him something that’s his.

“No, no, no, no, no...”

“Yes, you see. There’s this little parasite inside you, and it doesn’t seem to like me very
much.” Which would be comical. If not for the circumstances. Maybe it’s a trait all of
Bakugou’s pups would come to share. “But that’s not the problem. The problem, Suki,” Was
it the absurdity of the situation or just he held giggly all of a sudden, “is that Heat-Inductor.
Given your state, there’s no need for your body to conduct heat. But the drug was strong. It’s
throwing your immune system off.”

Was that why he felt funny all of a sudden? Would have blamed it on hysteria. Or even a
mania episode, given his luck. Always pregnant with the wrong people at the right time. Or
the right people at the wrong time? Or there was just something wrong with him? Some
abandoning issues? Making him leave his Alphas as soon as they knocked down, and move
to another?

“Is there a way to stop it?”

Dabi appeared to consider it for a second, before answering, “It depends. The heat or
pregnancy?”

Oh god.

“In about an hour you will want to mate with someone. You will need that, and I can help
with that.”

He looked smug. Sickeningly handsome to Bakugou experiencing his fourth existential crisis
of the day.

“You want me– Touya, that’s wrong.”

It was. It wasn’t just betraying the trust of a person he was supposedly (due to their fabricated
story) in a relationship with. What Dabi was implying was opposing his whole biology. To
choose another Alpha over the one whose child you were carrying would be unforgivable. It
meant pain. It meant death. Not to Bakugou, but to the little life forming inside him.

It must have been like, two months since conception? Bakugou couldn’t feel it just yet, but
Touya acted like he could have smelt it from kilometres away and was beyond disgusted.
Frowning at him as if he didn’t understand his problem to begin with.

“If it’s a pup you want, I could give you as many as you desire.” And he was in fact not
having it. Shifting some to lower his face and whisper into Bakugou’s mouth, “We always
talked about it, didn't we? How pretty they would be. With their little noses and crooked
smiles. Carrying your face and my name.”

Was he really suggesting for Bakugou to jump the ship and think nothing of it? When exactly
had he become so heartless?

“You're sick,” Bakugou choked out. Not allowing himself to even consider said proposition.
“It was a mistake. I should never have come with you.” It was a bitter lie. Yet it came with
ease. “Let me go. I don’t need your help to deal with anything.”

Wasn’t coming back supposed to be easy? Like falling back in the habit?

Then, why did it hurt so much whenever Dabi’s involved?

“What's wrong?”

“You dare to ask me that? After you locked me up here against my will? You talk shit and
expect me to agree with everything you say. Without hearing how self-absorbed you are—
assuming I would get rid of my unborn pup just to have yours? Are you insane?”
 “Suki,” Touya tried. Appearing quite desperate. “I didn’t mean to. No, I did.” Was he also
terrified all of a sudden or was it just a pretence? A show put especially for Bakugou, to lure
him back in. “Sorry. Let’s try that again.”

“You want to try what? Oh, maybe we should just wait it out. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to
convince me when I can’t think straight?”

Bakugou didn’t consider himself unnecessarily cruel. But he was restrained, tired, and
honestly rather scared. Terrified, the choice was already made for him in the advance.

Not really expecting for Touya to just move and get off him. It seemed as if he was leaving,
and Bakugou wanted to scream, until he realised that Touya went away only to grab
something from his jacket and was coming back already. Without a word inserting the key
and freed Bakugou from the handcuffs.

“You’re free to go wherever you desire,” he said. Looking conflicted about his own claim.
“But. I’d like you to stay.” And was there a right answer to that? “Stay with me and I’ll help
you to deal with this heat. Without hurting the para– pup.”

He was sincere. Staring at Bakugou with those big puppy eyes, that made it impossible to
refuse neither Amaya nor Hajime. They were so similar it actually hurt Bakugou’s heart. Oh,
how he wished they could have been everything they were not.

“Only for this heat?”

“If you wish so.”

Wasn’t he using Touya then? Or was he the one being used? “What's in it for you?”

When you lose something you can’t replace

When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

“You, Bakugou,” Touya whispered. “I only care about you.”

Chapter End Notes

The double plooooot twist:

1) Baku is pregnant again!
> Shouto's picking the names this time around so take your guess (knowing Shouto, there's a solid chance you'll get it
right xD)
2) I'm still here ✌
> I see all of your feedback and try to act accordingly. Thus, currently rewriting my "Lies we tell" fic, yaay. When
I'm done with it, I'll continue with others, don't kill me

(The last quote came from Coldplay song "Fix You")

 Oblivion
Chapter Summary

I did something bad. It’s mostly a porn. Parental advisory recommended

Chapter Notes

Warmings: Sooo after the “Oh Suki. I’ll make sure you forget he ever existed.”, it's
pure porn. If you don’t like it - skip to the end of the chapter. I could probably
summarise the most important things for u in the comment if you still want to be up to
date with eveything that happened in between.

Through this chapter carried me this art:

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f4/d6/33/f4d63376c6d1cf389031d588468bde80.jpg and this
song: https://open.spotify.com/track/2aJVdBP3ltB1KK7LZlcrba. Enjoy~

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Should Bakugou resist more before giving in? Try to discourage Touya and prevent it from
happening all together? It’d be easy. To mention things both of them decided to ignore. To
bring up their split-up, Bakugou’s pregnancy or, just in general, Shouto.

Bakugou could have ended it up in a blink of an eye. The choice was his to make. They both
knew it, and let it play out just the same.

“Just for tonight,” Bakugou said instead. With a fire dancing in his eyes daring, “Just for
tonight, I could be yours.”

It was a possibility. But there was also a lie. A trap to fall into; a demise awaiting within
Touya’s outstretched hand that Bakugou took without another glance. They have played this
game before more than once. Lying to themselves about the outcome of the exact same
situations.

And wasn’t Bakugou just adorable, deluding himself there was a time he wasn’t his to begin
with?

“If that’s what you want Suki.”

What he wanted, and what he needed, and what he should have done, were never quite the
same. A better person would just leave. A smart one would do just that but even faster. A
decent one would at least apologise for everything he put him through. But Bakugou? He was
selfish. Putting not so much consideration for people’s feelings and needs. His own always
coming in first.

Yielding to Touya was a bad habit Bakugou never managed to break. Exploiting Touya’s
weakness to take him back anytime. “But I do wonder, what is that you want? Just to hold
me? Love me? You can hurt me if you like.”

For all Bakugou cared, he could even play a perfect stranger for him if asked. Honestly, he
was just curious if Dabi wanted or hated him more at the moment.

“I want to violate you.”

And wasn’t that enough to make Bakugou shut up for once and good. Sending shivers down
his spine.

Bakugou deserved to suffer. And Dabi was happy to oblige. Putting a stop to unnecessary
chit-chattering. With one strong pull collecting Bakugou into his arms to get them moving
somewhere else.

Coming back home was something Bakugou had probably not anticipated any time soon.

Not that he minded much at the moment, rather out of it again. Burning up with fever that put
his mind at dangerous ease. Leaving nothing but one thought left.

“Touya,” he moaned wantonly. Picking at his seat belt yet unable to set free. Becoming more
and more frustrated. Constrained to a back seat of a rather stuffy car, that did nothing to help
him with the increasing heat. “Pull over. It hurts.”

Dabi could not have been the brightest bulb, but he was sharp enough to learn from his
mistakes. Putting Bakugou in a car and expecting him to behave was like the biggest yet so
far. Especially when he was like this — squirming in his seat and smelling bloody delicious.
Begging for him to take a bite; sending Dabi feral with a need to devour him.

He did it once and was left behind to chase after Bakugou parading the streets half–naked.
Not something he wished to repeat, even if it was a rather sign to behold.

No, he intended to do this right this time. More concerned about the situation that he let on.
As soon as they entered the car he contacted Higa to bring in Takamura. It was a first to
ensure things wouldn’t go south when they least expected it. Dabi had his fair share of
experience with heats, but never laid with an Omega experiencing them while carrying
someone else’s pups. Sure, he could just roll with it and not acknowledge any blame for
anything bad that might happen afterwards. He didn’t care about the spawn (or spawns) at all.
What’s more, getting rid of them would likely serve his case. Making it easier to bond and tie
Bakugou down. But Bakugou, and it pained Dabi to admit, seemed to already care about
them. And more than anything, Dabi would hate to disappoint him by breaking his trust the
first chance he got. Bakugou didn’t appear to quite detest him after all—and it would be for
the best to stay that way.

He would take care of him then, the best he could. Enjoying the unexpected yet welcome
oblivion.

For now, appreciating how prettily Bakugou looked while handcuffed to the door. Helpless
and completely at Dabi’s mercy. Striking something dark and primal within his soul.

“I know, baby. We’re almost there.”

Oh, how long has he waited for this. Dreaming night after night to get him in his hands. It
had nothing to do with the other desire to make amends and set things straight between them.
No, those thoughts haunting him whenever at his low were just vile. Horrible and vicious.
Dark. Bakugou read him right, taunting about his crave for violence. There was something in
him that demanded justice. He felt it earlier, when he laid his eyes on Bakugou in that alley.
He felt it now, while examining him in the rear-view mirror.

More than anything, he just wanted to hurt him.

“Maybe I could go faster if you said pretty please.”

“Oh fuck you,” Bakugou hissed instead. Curling up and giving him an attitude. “You don’t
deserve me begging. You scum. Shitty Alpha. Alpha shitty–scum.”

The Dabi in the past would have hit the brakes just then. Taking offence and acting out. But
Dabi of the presence was rather enjoying it, relishing in the pitiful sign that Bakugou made
by every passing second, smelling like a pure desperation and need. A prime Omega, giving
in to his instincts. Aching for him; impatient to be taken.

Dabi had to deal with missing him for years—he could deal with five more minutes. Bakugou
on the other hand was growing rather antsy.

“Then, how about telling me how much you missed my cock. You always liked to talk about
that, did you not?”

A low blow but stating nothing but truth. To Bakugou it was always easier to admit that he
itched for good sex, rather than its companion. After their breaks not once, but quite
regularly, welcoming Touya with a well–practiced slogan about yearn of flesh rather than his
heart.

“Do you still like it the most?” It may appear mocking at first, but even in his current state
Bakugou heard the intentional undertone just right.

If he wanted to get laid, he had no choice but to agree. Flattering Dabi’s stupid ego. “Yeah,”
Bakugou breathed out. “It’s the best. The perfect cock just for me.”

“You’re such a charmer, aren’t you, Suki?

Even if he was being honest Dabi didn’t need to know that much. “Cut the bullshit Touya. I
can show you just how much I have missed you inside me.”

Dangerous. But Dabi would figure it out in the process. For now, with a haunting smile
turning right and entering the driveway of the mansion. Already sensing all the fun ahead.

“Soon,” he promised. “Suki, we’re home.”

It was never either home or theirs. Bakugou loathed it with every fiber of his being,
constantly reminded of everything that broke them and kept apart. The living breathing
manifestation of Todoroki’s shady business. A mansion that screamed INFERNO even
without its members bustling around, giving Bakugou a headache.

His beautiful golden cage. That he intended to set aflame one day.

In his delicate state, Dabi didn’t want to risk leaving Bakugou alone for too long. Still, he got
Takamura to catch up with, thus entrusting the poor Omega to, for once, visibly opposed to
the idea Higa. Nevertheless, handling it like any right–hand of a yakuza’s heir should—
without a word of complaint. With nothing more but a pointed stare taking Bakugou to the
bathroom to help him “freshen up” a bit.

Bakugou on the other hand, held no such a reservation, bluntly screaming for anyone to hear,
“If you don’t hurry I’m fucking myself on a first thing I’ll find. Duh, even Higa will do.”

“Will not,” the man opposed. Dragging the Omega away, but not before Dabi cast him a very
telling glare. Better not to get any funny ideas or Dabi won’t be held accountable for his
actions. Better to hurry up then.

Not to seem desperate he tried not to run. Fastening his pace only a little. Somehow still
ending up short of breath when finally reaching the room Takamura Haruto was placed in.

“I don’t have much time. Give me a brief of what I need to know.”

To give it to Takamura, the man appeared only as fidgeted as he always did while dealing
with Dabi. No additional tension in his hunched shoulders. He was rather grey for a man in
his mid-40s, but it was unlikely Dabi’s fault (at least not in the smaller picture), as he
couldn’t grow it out quite this fast since meeting him earlier that day. What could he has
contributed to, would be those drowsy eyes and the ugly puffiness under them, but why look
for culprits where they’re not needed?

“Yes. Right away,” Takamura uttered. “There are few things that need addressing. From now
on, pardon my bluntness.” For most of the time, Dabi tolerated the guy. But when he entered
his business mood, Dabi actually respected him. “Firstly, for obvious reasons, the intercourse
is impossible. No penetration, and god forbid, no knotting.” Bummer. Would be
disappointing if Dabi hadn't already suspected that much. “Mr. Bakugou would still request
assistance, thus, I took the liberty of preparing some fitting tools.”
A nice wording for a dildo. Snickering, Dabi cut him off just there, “Stunnin’. Still, it’d be
nice to take the dick out without the other party pucking. Any suggestions for that?”

“That’s a second matter I intended to discuss before being interrupted.” Was he getting
scolded? It felt as if he was. “Mr. Bakugou's sense of smell may become problematic. It’s
rather tiring for a body to be both attracted yet off-putted by someone. We could either give
you the scent blocker or induct him to another drug that’d dull his nose.” Neither sounded
great. Dabi promised not to fuck with Bakugou’s body more than necessary, so the first one
seemed like the more likely choice. “Given the earliest exposure to some unknown substance,
the following option would not be recommended under the normal circumstances, but
personally, I advise it. Consider it better for his body. As, if for example, Mr. Bakugou gets
too worked up about attracting an Alpha that he cannot smell, it may send him feral.”

Bloody hell. Not only crying and whining but actually feral Omega? They normally tended to
do that while being scared or extremely happy. Rarely because they’re angry. If you’re lucky
—some of them while particularly horny.

But Bakugou, he’s strange like that. Acting more like an Alpha, with his outbursts that would
end up in him getting violent. While to Dabi, his aggressive streak was just cute, during the
times of his ruts it pissed him off to no end. Dynamics worked like that, making Dabi at edge
with another challenger within his bed, instead of a comforting presence of a mate. He didn’t
want to constantly fight to prove himself. Especially with his pair. He just wanted to fuck him
good and get it out of his system.

“Fine. Reducing the chances of setting him off. I just had to ask—would not cutting off his
smell do just that?”

“No,” the doc chirped. Happy to be of use. “While it may appear strange for him to be unable
to smell you, his body will carry him through it instinctively. On some level, it’ll probably
realise the scents are not gone and it can react with them just fine. On an interesting note,
some people use this drug as a stimulant to prod other senses and—”

“Nuh–uh,” Dabi interrupted. “A short version, remember.”

Takamura was too expressive for his own good, and visibly not thrilled to be stopped, but like
a grown man he took that pill to swallow. With a rapid breath collecting himself and his
thoughts, to give Dabi a short nod.

“Of course. Forgive me. The last, most important thing would be precautions.”

And wasn’t that unexpected? “I thought we established that, unfortunately, he’s already
knocked down. No point in a protection now, is it?”

To Takamura he was plainly stupid (but for his tough luck sharp enough to catch at the fact
he was being insulted, noting it down to handle for later).

“Not this kind of protection,” he said. “As I was informed, Mr. Bakugou requested to protect
the life growing within him. That being said, I must insist on providing you with suppressants
every few hour.”
You must be joking, Dabi wanted to curse, but knowing Takamura he was not a comedian
type. Besides, it made perfect sense for Dabi to drug himself, while planning to end up in a
locked room with one hell–of–sterile Omega, for heavens knew how long. He may
accidentally lose his cool and do something stupid. Or worse, actually trigger his rut and send
it all to Hades. Better to be safe than sorry.

“Also, I arranged some collars for Mr. Bakugou to wear—”

“ No. ” No way. He was not playing like that. Nothing, and no one, even Takamura, would
get between Dabi and Bakugou’s nape, or he swore—he would in fact go feral just in spite.

“I know what you're thinking about. That’s your inner Alpha talking. All that biting and
claiming.” Making him right didn’t calm Dabi down. On the contrary, it made him pissed.
“It’ll exterminate the pup. Instantly. And swiftly. May kills Mr. Bakugou too if he goes into
shock.”

...Dabi picked the least tacky one after that.

The situation seemed unreal but Dabi refused to wake up. With a leather collar in his hands
and fresh dosage of a suppressant in his circulatory system, entering his bedroom. Takamura
and his medical kit, hot on his heels.

The absence of Bakugou in his bed was surprising but the growling from the other part of the
room told him everything he needed to know. Heading there, Dabi encountered one hell of a
mess, with his clothes lying around whenever he looked. He remembered putting them into
his closet, so the look he sent Higa was rather telling.

“I let him rummage through it,” the man offered. Somehow anxious. “I tried to take him to
the bed,” he carried on, “but he refused.”

Dabi could have seen that. And what a strange sign it was to behold—his couch evolving into
a huge pile of clothing. Seeming random at first, but too intentional to mistake with a pile of
laundry. Even if Bakugou somehow intercepted his boxers, which would be embarrassing if
not for the initial shock still holding on.

“You’re nesting?” Touya muttered from a safe distance. Quite amazed. It was a rare
occurrence for Bakugou while they’re still together, as he lacked the patience and apparently
some basic need to do so. Was it a pregnancy thing? “Don’t you want to move it to the bed?”
he asked. Trying to be smoothing.

Only to be met with an angry snarl, “I’d rather die.”

Which was, honestly, a massive exaggeration.

Buried underneath his clothes, Bakugou didn’t give him as much as a glare. Only after a
prolonged moment of restless wriggling, emerging partially to grant him a scowl. “What
happened to our bed?”

Shit. Touya actually forgot about that. Not like he intended to admit to Bakugou that he had
thrown it out the window while losing his temper.

“I replaced it with a bigger one. Easier to fit in.”

Wrong answer it seemed, “I fucking know,” Bakugou snapped. “It stinks like your bitches.”

Impossible. Dabi’s staff changed it regularly. But knowing the issue, he decided not to carry
the topic out, opting to palliate the Omega instead. With a measured step forward crouch
before his lair.

“I understand. Should I send for someone to change it?”

“No,” came the response. Meaning it’s not enough.

“Should I throw it away then?”

“No. Take it off and burn it.”

Dabi loved him so much. “I will. But for now let’s change it and move to the bed, okay?”

“No.” Okay, he should have expected this much. “I want to stay here.”

Dabi inner Alpha had his fare share of objection about fucking the Omega on the couch, but
he didn’t let it act out. It was a delicate matter. Besides, personally, Dabi was dying to get
inside Bakugou’s nest.

“Can I come in then?”

There's hesitation. Then, Bakugou’s pretty face actually emerged from under the blankets
staring him and his companions down.

“What’s he doing here again?”

“Hello Mr. Bakugou,” Takamura welcomed. Keeping his distance. More cautious of Dabi
asserting glazes than Omega’s angry gaze. “I’m here to monitor you during this heat. To take
some blood samples and keep you nutriate if needed.”

More poking and prodding then? Bakugou hated it already.

“Also, with your consent, I’m here to apply something that’ll help you with smell
overstimulation.”

“Another drug? Amazing,” Bakugou snorted. With a hand gesture summoning the doc closer.
“Get on with it then.”

Maybe it made him naive but after inserting Bakugou with the syringe Takamura felt rather
confident. His job there was done, no one got hurt, a piece of cake. Until there’s an arm
wrapping around his throat like a snake, about to subdue and immobilise its victim; dragging
him deeper into its den. Making him yelp as a row of sharp canines brushes his ear.

“What have you told him?” Bakugou taunted. Strengthening his hold to cut off the air if
required.

“Suki,” Dabi warned. Yet doing nothing to stop him. “Let him go.”

“First, do tell me.” Was whispered straight to the doc’s ear. “How closely had you examined
me when I was unconscious, and how much of it, you decided to share with the group, hm?”

“I– You should... free me.”

Takamura was sweating. Rather profoundly. With a shaky breath grabbing at Bakugou’s arm
to bring it closer to his nose. Making Bakugou yelp before pushing him away. He would be
swearing too if not for a sudden abduction of his senses.

“You’re an Alpha?!”

Bakugou's scream was more than reasonable given the situation. Dabi’s jerking forward to
snatch the doctor by his collar and throw him away—simply well–deserved. Under all that
angry–possessive– mine pheromones making Bakugou squirm with pure delight.

“Get out,” Dabi barked. Addressing not only Takamura but Higa as well, that with a short
bow dragged the apologising man away with him. So much for handling it with no difficulty.
“Couldn’t you help yourself?” he asked Bakugou. Crawling closer to give him a look, before
hesitantly cupping his face.

With a small note of content noticing that he didn’t even try to oppose it, snuggling up to
Dabi’s outstretched palm. Nuzzling it with his face and giving it some kitten kisses. Stopping
at his wrist to hug it closer to himself and inhale the scent.

There’s an ash in Bakugou’s lungs, recalling the recent inferno wreaking havoc. What once
happened to be a forest, was nothing but a cinder now. The scent’s harsh and restless. It may
have lacked its softer undertone but appealed to Bakugou all the same. With its powerful
tinge promising Bakugou everything that mattered the most—safety, care, and provision.

He closed his eyes to focus on it better. Bakugou missed the rainy breeze smoothing it out.
Feeling rather responsible for stirring it up this way. Unconsciously, he thought about his
pups. While Amaya's a bonfire; earthy and grounding. Hajime’s more of a rainfall; ozone,
geosmin, and plant oils. So pure and fresh it brought a smile to Bakugou’s face. They were
Touya so through and through he actually felt like giggling. Loving each of them with his
whole heart.

“You smell similar,” Bakugou mussed, half consciously. Deep in his happy place. Not really
expecting for Touya to interpret it differently and growl at him.

“Is that so?” he dared. “Maybe the reason you decided to fuck him in my absence.”
That got Bakugou blinking rather stupidly, coming back from it; the moment ruined. Wasn’t
bringing Shouto up a taboo? Bakugou liked their grand rules about dancing around tricky
topics like they didn’t exist in the first place. Having no mental capability to discuss them at
the moment and engage in a big fight that’d led them nowhere. Refusing to talk about Shouto
this close to his heat, with other Alpha about to comfort him through it.

“Please don’t.” Bakugou promised himself not to beg today but decided otherwise at the
moment. Appealing to Touya’s softer side and inner Alpha eager to consolidate his distressed
Omega. “I don’t want to think about him right now,” he kept going. “Only you.”

It wasn’t fair but what was? Definitely not a way Dabi’s lips curled upright into something
menacing as he leaned closer to whisper, “Oh Suki. I’ll make sure you forget he ever
existed.”

True to his word, Dabi made a mess out of Bakugou.

He licked into him sweetly, putting his tongue to use with long swipes where he’s wet and
leaking. Teasing his hole with shallow licks as he cried, then swirling it around and sucking
hard. One hand grabbing on Bakugou’s knee to keep him still and wide open. Other on his
cock, slowly jerking him off. Bakugou’s length twitching in response to overstimulation, as
he stroked him lightly while eating him out.

It’s hard not to gloat and Dabi’s doing just that, smiling like an asshole that he is. Enjoying
himself from his place on the floor as Bakugou fought with himself not to trash around and
demanded more. He’s so pretty like this, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching Dabi’s hair.
His mind’s hazy from pleasure and Alpha’s strong pheromones. Whimpering softly as Dabi
worked him up, leaping after the juices leaking out.

“You’re so sweet, baby. Are you trying to drown me in here?”

There was in fact slick dripping down Dabi’s jaw and Bakugou whimpered at the view.
Aching to kiss him. Considering it utterly unfair for Dabi to have all the fun.

“Is something bothering you, sweetheart? You look troubled,” he mocked. Licking his lips in
the most obscene way. “Am I boring you?”

“Asshole,” Bakugou only managed to utter. Shutting up at once as a thick finger breached
him. Slipping in and curling up, making Bakugou cry out.

Maybe he’s an asshole. Without warning adding another finger to start trusting them in and
out, relentlessly. Searching for that sweet spot that’s turning Bakugou into a puddle.

“You were sayin’?”

He actually got him howling just there, hitting that bundle of nerves. It’s a beautiful sign,
Bakugou coming undone under his fingers. Dabi drinking it up like the finest vine, closely
observing his face. It’s less chubby than it used to be, with some clearly defined facial
features. He’s so red it would be concerning if not for his erratic breath and heat’s fever. His
ears’ burning up whenever their eyes crossed. Talking about eyes, Dabi found it quite off–
putting. Repelled by their wrong colours; blue too bright to pierce through him like the ruby
used to. Making Dabi’s hands itch to reach out and pull the lenses out himself.

“What’s with this disguise?” Dabi asked. Rising up to his feet while continuing to fuck
Bakugou with his left hand. His wrist’s flicking rapidly as he hovered over his face. “In fact.
Don’t you look quite like me,” he mused. With his free hands caressing Bakugou’s dyed
black hair between his fingers. “Is that a new kink? Which one of you freaks wanted to fuck
me this bad? Wouldn’t consider it beyond Shouto, but baby. You could have just asked.”

It was hard to think about anything but “Touya” “daddy” “pups”. Admittedly, Bakugou tried
to resemble him more, for their kids' sake. Feeling strange with all the initial stares people
sent their way. Neither Amaya nor Hajime resembled him much after all. They got
Todorokis’ eyes, true, but Shouto himself, with his bipolar eyes and mismatched hair stood
out like a sore thumb beside them. They caused a sensation whenever they went—an
unmated Omega, with a strange Alpha, and two out–of–place pups. Attracting unwanted
attention. Convincing Bakugou to do something about it before someone wrong would start
asking unwanted questions.

So yeah, he looked a lot like Touya. And honestly, he adored it. Sometimes fantasising it’s in
fact him, that’s taking Bakugou into pieces, as he screamed his name into the emptiness of his
bedroom.

“Quit calling me baby,” Bakugou managed instead. Chasing after Touya’s thin lips. With a
pout grasping his chin as he turned to the side at the last moment. “Let me kiss you, you
fucker.”

“Then admit it, Suki,” Touya prodded. Pulling out his fingers and enjoying Bakugou’s pitiful
squeak. “You fuck yourself wishing it was me. You cannot stop thinking about me.” He was
still going. His fingers returned inside Bakugou, forcing him to observe as they went in and
out. Alongside an additional one becoming merciless while pumping him up. Prodding at his
sensitive spot. Riding him through it till he saw stars. “ You’re mine ,” Touya was growling,
“Today, tomorrow. Doesn’t matter. You belong to me. Forever.”

“Yes!” Bakugou screamed. Clutching to him for his dear life. “Yours. I’m yours. Only
yours!”

He was cumming again. Shouting and sobbing, gripping around Dabi’s fingers like a vice.
Too out of it to really notice that Touya’s at his throat once more, trying to bite him through
the collar. Chewing at the leather fabric and snarling in pure resentment when it didn’t bulge.
Instead opting to bite down on Bakugou’s arm, his canines sinking in deep enough to draw
blood. Making Bakugou spasm as a sudden wave of want spread deep inside him. He wanted
to feel him. He wanted to feel him so bad.

“Touya,” It felt like a rather good start to a rather stupid request. “Do you– Could you–”
He was about to put his desperate need into words while a loud knocking snapped him out of
it. Shocking Bakugou to the point of tensing and nearly breaking Dabi’s wrist, before the man
withdrew it at once. Covering his naked form with the first better blanket to snare at the door,
“What.”

It was the second time Takamura paid them a visit since they started, by each bringing some
needed clarity for Bakugou hormonal brain. While with Dabi alone, it’s easy to just give in
and forget, Bakugou deems it important not to get fooled. If he just let him, Dabi would lock
him up for good. Playing nice only for appearance' sake.

“I doubled your dosage of rut’s suppressants,” Takamura uttered. Eying them suspiciously
until Dabi snapped, moving aside to cover Bakugou from the sight. “I’d also recommend a
new collar for Mr. Bakugou before continuing.”

Now that he mentioned it. Bakugou raised his hand to touch his neck, realising it was partly
uncovered. The leather that protected it actually bit through. The shreds hanging by mere
threats. Soaked in blood from Touya’s abused canines. Bringing in a sense of a cold dread to
Bakugou’s fogged mind.

They could not fuck. But it didn’t mean they were unwilling to at least try. Playing with fire
as Bakugou straddled Touya’s things, pushing down on his covered by the jeans erection.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned. Taking in a shaky breath. “Why are you so big?”

He wasn’t even dirty talking. Feeling how the bulk pulsed underneath him as he rolled his
hips. It was huge, poking at his naked butt. Begging to be let out. About to maul him good if
only given the chance.

Bakugou wouldn’t mind. Already searching for Dabi’s jeans’ zipper, only for his hands to get
swayed away.

“No touching.”

Was he joking? He must have been, Bakugou concluded, with an angry twitch trying to reach
him again. Flabbergasted as to why his wrists were grabbed and moved over to Dabi’s neck.

“Just hold onto me,” Touya instructed. Playfully nibbling at Bakugou’s bottom lip to lure him
in into the kiss. Moving his head back to actually have Bakugou chasing after him. Observing
him from under half–lidded eyes as the soft lips met with his more chapped ones, connecting
in an open–mouth kiss. Bakugou’s daring tongue assaulted him all at once, exploring every
inch of his mouth as Omega humped his thigh. Soaking Dabi’s jeans with his slick.
Apparently having the time of his life while Touya dealt with a serious case of blue balls.

He couldn’t risk actually fucking him, but would get off at least.
Making sure Bakugou’s arms were securely wrapped around his shoulders before picking
him up by his hips. Placing that perfect ass just where it belonged. Lining them up the best he
could while still half–dressed. With an experimental thrust forcing Bakugou to ache his back
to meet him.

“Oh heavens,” the omega whined. Hands tugging on the tiny hairs daunting Dabi’s lower
neck. “Do that again.”

They kissed again, Touya trusting onto him at a constant pace. Their hips’ meeting once by
once, to connect with a wet noise of Bakugou’s heat. They weren’t even actually fucking, but
they cling to each other nonetheless, sipping every sound from each others' mouths. Bodies
flush together, rubbing in a perfect sync. It was so hot, and heavy, and both of them could
have accidentally stopped breathing for a while as they devoured each other. Sucking the life
out of themselves.

Was Bakugou doing just that, Dabi wondered as Suki nipped at his tongue, sucking at it
lightly, before biting down. The shock of it pushed Dabi through the edge as his thrust
became rather erratic. He wanted to fuck through the fabric right inside him, giving it his
actual best. With an arm snaked around Bakugou’s waist bringing him closer as he chased his
own pleasure. Bakugou scraped his neck and screamed inside his mouth, making their teeth
collide and clanging, as they both got there.

The next two days passed quite the same. With Bakugou in Dabi’s arms, and slightly less
clothes on.

No, who were they kidding—they become rather reckless after fooling around with toys in
the morning. Despite all the self–lubrication Bakugou had, in fact, feeling rather sore.
Heating up at the mere memory of Touya fucking him up with some glass dildos. He knew
his body by heart, able to rave him just fine without even entering him. Hitting all the right
spots to make Bakugou float.

But there was something harsh and quick about the way he handled him, the longer it lasted.

Bakugou was aware he must have been dying to fuck him. It was cute in its own way.
Especially that Bakugou couldn’t think about much else but that too.

Wondering how to go around it and coming with the simplest idea.

“Fuck my things.”

Touya.exe has stopped working, it seemed. The man stared at him blankly while chewing at
some kind of sandwich that made Bakugou want to puke. They were actually having a break
between all the fooling around, and the silence was getting to Bakugou. That, and the fact,
they probably had about a day left. He didn’t want to wonder about that, no. Refusing to
acknowledge the reality awaiting him after the dream. The heat made it easier to copy–with
him tuning out all the noise and focusing on a one thing he liked to focus on the best–Touya.
He was sweet, and caring, and didn’t leave Bakugou’s side for a moment for the last three
days. There was Takamura coming in to check on them, and Higa barging in to bitch about
something regarding Inferno before Dabi kicked him in the very first day and forbid him to
come back until they were done. And there was nothing Bakugou wanted more than for his
stupid gang to crumble and disappear from the surface of the earth while they’re still at it.

It would solve so many problems Bakugou tended to indulge in fantasising about. With
Dabi’s lips at his neck reaching quite the level of delusional Kamiya would try to shake him
off with heavy medication. But he could see it already, clear as day. Them, being just normal.
Happy. With Amaya and Hajime running around without a care in the world. Touya tending
to him all day long, to in the evenings tuck both pups into their beds with a goodnight kiss.
Was it really so unlikely? Bakugou refused to believe so.

With a shrug getting undressed before moving in the direction of the bed. The disgusting
thing he still detested but got used to it to some degree. Preferring to roll around in sheets
rather than fall straight at his ass from a crampy couch. And to roll he intended, casting
Touya a rather telling stare as he crawled on the bedding, positioning himself on all fours.

They still got some times before the next wave of his heat but Bakugou craved to fuck him
just the same.

“You’re coming or want me to do it myself?”

Half–way through getting up Dabi paused, giving him a look. Apparently considering his
words and finding them not so bad of an idea. Irking Bakugou that literally gagged to get
started, only joking to get him moving faster.

“If you don’t get your ass here within 5 seconds, I swear to god, Touya—I’ll lock myself in
the bathroom for the remaining two days. Good luck sucking yourself off then.”

He would do it. Just to prove a point. Being a bloody menace and the bane of Touya’s
existence. Already warming up to the whole idea of leaving him pinning and desperate for
once, when something smacked his ass. Making him yelp because what the hell.

“You looked cocky,” Dabi pointed out. Positioning himself on a bed behind him. “It pissed
me off.”

They never talked about spanking. The place where Dabi’s hand connected with his skin
tingle a little. It wasn’t hot until Dabi repeated the process, hitting the very same space and
shocking Bakugou that honestly, do not expect him to go at it again. He mewled, back aching
on its own, as the heat spread. If the first one was playful, testing the water, the second hit
stirred something inside Bakugou. It hurt. Neither in a good nor bad way. Bakugou just
wanted to rub at it to smooth it out, when Dabi slapped his hand away purring lowly.

“Be a good boy and stay still.”

Shit. Shit . It’s not how Bakugou had it all planned out, already regretting turning his back on
Dabi. Not as much against the whole idea as just pissed, it got turned around against him.
“Do you know shit about spanking?” Bakugou taunted. To shut up at once as Dabi’s left hand
smacked him with a signet.

Making him cry out because what the fuck.

“Good boys don’t talk back.”

Fine. Maybe they had something to explore there. Dabi’s hands on Bakugou’s ass grounding
him in place, before letting go and bringing anticipation. He bit his lips wondering where the
hit would land. It appeared more natural for Dabi to hit him on the left with his dominant
hand, but he loved to fuck with Bakugou. Changing not only the side, but also the hand he hit
with, to surprise him when he least expected it.

“You’re doing so well, kitten.”

It actually hurt a lot, Bakugou’s skin burning up from slightly different reasons than fever. He
was already sore before it. Now, it just felt like a torture. Bakugou wasn’t even aware that
instead of just whimpering he was in fact tearing up; the fat droplets steaming down his face.
It’d be shameful if he could focus on being embarrassed at all. Solely tuned on the next
smack and pain coming with it.

“Start counting,” Dabi instructed. With his breath cooling off Bakugou’s abused skin. “If you
can make it to ten, I’ll reward you.”

Bakugou never backed down from a challenge. Especially when Touya gave him that look—
as if contemplating actually eating him whole. He was intense and focused solely on him.
Disarming Bakugou with his passion alone. If he ever wanted to burn him to ashes, Bakugou
would probably go off happily. Burning under Touya’s watchful eyes, piercing a hole inside
his heart.

“One,” Bakugou obliged. Trying not to act pissed that they were starting all over again, while
his ass was literally on fire. Failing in hiding shit, if a particularly hard smack was anything
to go by.

“Be nice.”

Maybe he could still strangle him, Bakugou wondered as the second and third hit came. The
forth he almost missed, only to realise, it has not in fact, hurt at all. It was strange, and
became bizarre, as with the fifth Bakugou actually mewled, getting used to sensation.
Something must have been wrong with him. Yeah, really wrong, he figured as it actually
started to feel good.

“Stop,” he whispered. Terrified with his own body.

Making Dabi to pause for a second, before he leaned closer, placing a haste kiss on his back.
“Do you remember your safe word?”

It was the stupidest safe word they could have come with, so how could he ever forget?

“Yes.”
 Dabi backed away then. Leaving behind only lingering warmth of his lips. “Then use it
properly.”

Bakugou did not. Managing to withstand all remaining five hits. The pain subsided as he
kinda expected it to. Bringing a tingling sensation of pleasure. It was lovely, and totally worth
it in the end, and if it made Bakugou wetter than their normal heavy make–out session, it was
nobody's business to begin with.

“Are you all right?” Dabi seemed a bit concerned. With care collecting Bakugou into his
arms to sit him in his laps.

“Sore,” he murmured. Leaning back to rest his head against Dabi’s chest. “It was bloody
great. But don’t take it personally—I don’t want to shag you anymore.” He was just too tired.
Why all of a sudden? Bakugou had no idea. But he felt content. Bathing in the warmth of
Dabi’s embrace. “Where did you even learn it?”

“I had to beat some people up,” Dabi said.

And Bakugou laughed. Only after a while realising he may have not been joking at all. “For
real?”

“For real.”

Bakugou wished to take everything back. They would never be normal.

Chapter End Notes

So I actually separated the porn into two parts lol (I’m sorry grandma i love u)

AND IT’S ACTUALLY MY FIRST TIME WRITING STEAMY SCENES · ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ ·
I’m sorry if it sucked. Literally every kind of feedback on this is mostly appreciated, as I

🥺
want to get better (and maybe don't kill you with a second part?) so if you have any
suggestion for me, don’t hesitate to leave a comment
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!