Chapter Text
Bakugou Katsuki remembered all of his past lives.
That was just like him, to remember them all. Most people remembered one or two. Usually as a lesson of some sort.
It was a unique sort of torture, remembering everything.
The first life he ever remembered, he swore to Deku they’d always be together.
Sometimes, he wished he hadn’t.
He’d been a king of sorts, back then. In a world of magic and dragons and things beyond imagination. He was in charge of the dragon realm. Deku had been nothing but a vagrant. And though they’d never actually become lovers, Bakugou swore it just the same.
The last life he’d had was quirk-filled. With a terrible war and tragedy beyond tragedy. When the dust settled, many of them finished as heroes. Deku got married and even had children. Bakugou watched it all from the side.
Sometimes they were together, sometimes they weren’t. Some lives, Bakugou was entirely unable to find him. Those were the worst ones. The lives where Bakugou wasn’t sure if Deku’s reincarnation had stopped.
The only true consistency was perhaps Bakugou’s temper. He seemed to carry that wherever he went.
His current life was oddly similar to his last. Quirks, yes. No All Might. No Shigaraki. No war. But additionally humanity was now filed into three ranks: Alpha, Beta, and Omega.
Bakugou had lived through a few similar rounds of this already. The current rendition was a bit more favorable to omegas, though they were still at a clear disadvantage.
This society was also very encouraging of sex work.
Which was beneficial, when you were the Number One Hero, and had no time to release pent up sexual frustrations. As an alpha, Bakugou had a lot of sexual frustration.
That was how he found Deku in this life.
Flipping through the headshots of possible omegas for the night, there he was, clear as day. Face freckled and hair fluffed, eyes clearly lined with some sort of makeup.
Miya, Omega
Specialized Alpha Caretaker
How many alphas had he taken care of, Bakugou wondered. He had to be rather highly ranked if he was on the list they’d given Bakugou.
Celebrities and higher ups got a different folder of options to choose from. Bakugou had learned that as he himself became more and more privileged. The more fame, the more need to be discreet.
There were several companies that dealt with “caretaking.” Bakugou preferred PlusUltra because it provided the more tightly-knit contract. Anything that saved him from having to suffer through an awkward interview later. Recently, however, there’d been a scandal, and Bakugou had been hesitant to steer from his usual routine. So he went without.
However, as his rut got closer, he couldn’t put it off for much longer. In his absence, his usual omega had already been booked. So Bakugou was forced back into the catalogue.
He booked Deku without a second thought.
The rush of adrenaline always gave him a weird feeling in his stomach, before meeting Deku. There was no telling whether Deku would remember him or not. Deku’s reincarnations didn’t seem as consistent as Bakugou’s. Sometimes Deku would remember everything, sometimes nothing, sometimes only bits and pieces.
After enough times, Bakugou learned to recognize it at first glance. Deku’s eyes always gave him away. And with their first greeting, he knew instantly.
Deku remembered nothing.
“Hi! I’m Miya, and I’ll be servicing you today. Thank you very much for choosing PlusUltra for all your instinctual needs.” He bowed as he said the last bit, the way most caretakers did. “Your form didn’t have any instructions, so I hope you don’t mind my asking a few questions so I can make sure you’re satisfied, Bakugou-sama.”
The cringe he felt upon hearing himself referred to as such was almost enough for Bakugou to call the whole thing off.
“Miya, you said?”
A large smile stared back at him. “Yes! Some clients call me Mimi, if you prefer that.”
Bakugou did not prefer that. How stupid. Midoriya—Miya. But then again, Deku had always been a little stupid.
“Miya,” he repeated, sitting on the bed and motioning for Deku—for Miya—to join him. “Would it be all right if we just talk?”
“The fee remains the same,” Miya explained, bed shifting as he sat beside Bakugou. “Is that okay?”
“It’s fine.”
“I understand,” Miya lamented, puffing out his chest and placing a careful hand on Bakugou’s thigh. “The pro-hero life must be lonely.”
Bakugou didn’t like that.
“What is your real name?” He asked, trying to figure out how someone like Deku had ended up in this profession. It didn’t suit him.
Miya removed his hand, his features twisting momentarily before landing in a rehearsed smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t answer that.”
“Not even for the Number One Hero?” Bakugou pressed.
The response came a bit more flat. “It’s strictly confidential. I’d be breaking my contract with PlusUltra. But I’m happy to answer anything else.” The hand was back on Bakugou’s thigh, slowly working its way up. “I’d love to get to know you better.”
Bakugou didn’t like that, either. How rehearsed it all sounded. Like he really was talking to this Miya persona, instead of Deku.
So he removed the hand. “Indulge me. I like to know my partners beforehand.”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember your past life?”
Miya smiled, shaking his head. “Hardly. I only have one real memory.”
“Could you tell me?”
“I didn’t think Japan’s top hero would be interested in something so boring.”
Normally, he wouldn’t be. But this was different. This was Deku. And Bakugou wanted to hear something that wasn’t a predetermined caretaker line. “I want to know.”
Miya hummed. “I’m very young. There’s a doctor in front of me, and a woman beside me. I can only assume she’s my mother. And I’m being told I’m quirkless. I must’ve done something really bad because I’m quirkless in this life too.” He gave a bell of a laugh, one that was hollow and heavily wrapped in pain.
Of all the things to remain the same…that was Deku’s constant?
“If you could have a quirk…what would it be?” Bakugou began carefully.
“I don’t need one. I’m perfectly happy with my job. I get to meet a lot of pro-heroes this way. And sometimes they even show me their quirks. Did you know Starshooter doesn’t actually shoot lasers from his palms? They’re actually from his fingertips but through training he’s managed to condense the blasts so that they take up more of his skin and the blasts become more targeted. Which is similar to how your quirk works I’m assuming but if I’m not mistaken it’s actually the sweat that allows you to create such powerful sparks, right? Though I’ve always wondered if the key is in the sweat then are you able to blast from multiple parts of your body? Is that something that’s not possible or has it simply not been explored? For example, a specialized suit that recreates a sauna experience could potentially produce enough sweat to turn you into a bomb, but that would only work if the receptors in your palms are present elsewhere in your body. Is that something you’ve looked into or are you just incapable of doing it?”
Oh.
So the mumbling was still a thing too.
It wasn’t that Bakugou didn’t reply, it was just that he was still processing everything Deku had just said, and hadn’t had the time to think it all through, let alone provide an answer to it all. But in supreme Deku fashion, he started talking over himself again.
“Ahh, sorry! I’m not a crazy fanboy, I promise. That is, of course I’m a fan, thank you so very much for everything you do for our country. I just mean I’m not a crazy stalker, or anything like that. Actually my contract forbids it. I’m not allowed to carry any merch with me or do anything that might be considered a conflict of interest between myself and other clients. That’s not to say that I can’t accept gifts, as I have been given autographs before, but I can’t—”
Bakugou could have barked at him. Could have snarled, or even used his scent to constrict the omega’s scent glands so much that he would’ve been forced to shut up. But something about the blabbering was nostalgic, heavily so, and considering it’d been three lifetimes already, Bakugou couldn’t wait anymore.
He kissed him, Deku’s lips soft and fragile and well kept, the omega caught off guard for only a few seconds, before he started kissing back on instinct. The level of experience it demonstrated shot a spike of jealousy down Bakugou’s spine.
They pulled away but only just, their noses still bumping together. “It only works on my hands,” Bakugou said finally, holding his palms out as if that would provide some kind of proof.
“Oh. I see.” To his surprise Deku’s hands folded into Bakugou’s own, fingers intertwining.
There was about a beat and a half of silence, before Deku piped up again, pulling his hand away. “I hope you didn’t find any offense to it! Obviously if you could do it from other parts of your body I’m sure its something you would have figured out by now. You are our Number One after all…!”
“No…” Bakugou began. “The world needs a little out of the box thinking sometimes.”
Deku smiled real big at that. “Maybe just not from a quirkless nobody like me, though.”
“De—Miya—”
“Shall we get started? It’d be an honor to service you. I’d like so very much to be requested again.”
A sudden scent of apples and cinnamon filled the room, sickly sweet and overbearing. You’d have thought someone was baking a pie. Bakugou looked at him, cupping the omega’s cheek with one hand. “Are you trying to use pheromones on me?”
Deku bit his lip, batting his lashes in that trained way. “Is it working?”
Forced submission would be considered breach of contract. So Bakugou held himself back, choosing to drown out Deku’s scent with his own instead. He watched with fascination as Deku melted in front of him, eyes going black with want, shoulders slumping at the sudden loss of control.
Without much effort, Bakugou grabbed him by the wrists, pushing him down against the bed in a straddle, pinning the omega’s hands up by his head. “Is this how you get alphas to fuck you?”
“Sometimes…” Deku swallowed. “Sometimes it’s omegas.”
Bakugou raised a brow. “Even though you specialize in alphas?”
“Some people…are different…”
So Deku had held—or been held—by alphas and omegas alike. The knowledge of it burned him up inside, angry sweat collecting heavily in his palms.
“Do you enjoy torturing your omegas, Bakugou-sama?”
“It’s not a habit. And call me Bakugou.”
“My scent glands are…” he swallowed thickly again, legs squirming beneath Bakugou. “They’re not usually this sensitive.”
Bakugou couldn’t see much beneath Deku’s collar, but the scent glands were visibly swollen. Any omega’s would be, after getting inundated in an alpha’s scent like that. Still, the way Deku said it felt rehearsed. Like Bakugou wasn’t the first one to hear that line.
No, he knew he wasn’t the first.
It seemed he never was, no matter how many lives they cycled through.
Tiny sparks started at the tips of his fingers, and Bakugou had to pull away. Quirks were absolutely forbidden. He’d be banned from using the service ever again. And if that happened, he’d never see Deku again. And considering this was the first time in three life cycles he even got close to the opportunity of being inside him again, he simply couldn’t let it go. “Just a blowjob,” he decided, unbuckling his own pants. “Then I’ll see if I call you again.”
Which was a load of shit. Bakugou would call on him regardless. He wanted to talk more. Wanted to know how Deku had ended up as a prostitute of all things. Every other profession was still in tact. Sure, maybe he couldn’t be the greatest hero ever produced in this life, but he could have done something. Police work, hero support, costume design, hostage negotiation. The list of hero-adjacent jobs were infinite. And Deku so obviously still had a passion for heroes.
All of those thoughts stopped immediately, though, the moment Deku dropped to his knees.
Bakugou was still an alpha, after all.
There was one benefit to remembering his past lives. Deku had always given the best blowjobs Bakugou had ever had the pleasure of receiving. And considering Deku’s current line of work—he was expecting that to remain the same. Memory alone already had him half-hard, his boxers starting to bother him.
“On behalf of PlusUltra,” Deku began, in a way Bakugou was very used to hearing, the omega working to fully free Bakugou of his pants. “Thank you for completing our routine screening. I’m happy to swallow, or you can finish on my face if you prefer.”
Bakugou wasn’t sure what kind of training PlusUltra used on its staff, but all of their caretakers said all the same lines with frightening likeness. Part of him wondered what happened to the people who refused to do the screenings. Require condoms, maybe?
Not something he needed to be worried about now.
He stepped out of his pants and boxers, kicking them off to the side. He held his hand out, which Deku obediently fell under, Bakugou easily taking a gripful of the omega’s hair. “You can swallow,” he said.
“Then,” Deku breathed, tongue already flicking out over Bakugou, “itadakimasu…”
Almost immediately, Bakugou’s head tossed back. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was nearing his rut, or because watching Deku’s mouth always did something to him, but his dick throbbed, blood rushing all at once. The omega hummed against him, sliding his mouth over Bakugou’s dick a few times, then pulling away to suckle his balls.
“As expected of our number one,” Deku praised, pumping with his hand while his tongue worked the base of Bakugou’s cock. “You’re so big…”
Pretty words, Bakugou knew, but that didn’t stop them from achieving their desired effect, Bakugou pulling at Deku’s hair and forcing him back up to his tip. Deku continued obediently, tongue swirling over the sensitive slit, before swallowing Bakugou back down, choking as the alpha hit the back of his throat.
Oh.
Fuck.
Deku looked up, locking eyes with him right as he gagged, spit and tears starting to leak out.
Bakugou had killed for that face, before.
Without really thinking, he grabbed Deku’s head with both hands, forcing him even deeper, reveling in the way the omega’s eyes rolled back, the tears falling fast and free down his cheeks, the most deliciously garbled sounds funneling from the base of his throat.
“Fuck,” he spat, giving a few more pumps before finally letting Deku go, loving the way he could see the swollen scent glands peeking out from beneath their collar. Bakugou’s fangs ached. If it were up to him, he’d have ripped that thing off.
Deku pulled away coughing, spit dribbling down the sides of his mouth as he went in again, sucking and slurping up the mess he’d made while deepthroating. Those big doe eyes of his were something to see, cheeks bulging with Bakugou’s cock. The alpha was slightly worried he’d cum just from the visual alone.
“You’re good at that,” he praised, affectionately scratching at the omega’s head, fingers still intwined with his hair. Deku murmured in reply, features softening as he pulled away, making a show of dragging his tongue along Bakugou’s length. “Thank you,” he purred, giving shallow sucks that Bakugou knew were hitting the roof of the omega’s mouth. Some omegas had a soft spot, there. Was Deku trying to get himself off? Bakugou allowed it for a bit, before grabbing the back of the omega’s head and forcing him down again.
He was rewarded with that garbled sound again, the feel of spit around his cock starting to make his head spin. Deku’s tongue was warm, lapping and slurping at him, and fuck if it didn’t feel good, fuck if it didn’t look good, Deku’s lips starting to puff out just a little bit, red and swollen from strain.
Bakugou wanted to make it even worse, but he wasn’t sure he’d last that long, not with the way Deku was swallowing him, and with a few more thrusts to the back of his throat Bakugou broke, spilling his seed into Deku’s little mouth.
Deku sat there purring all the while, accepting Bakugou’s spasms, drinking his fill happily and eagerly. Those large eyes were glazed over, and he was panting, and when Bakugou finally pulled away he noticed the obvious bulge in Deku’s pants.
“I hope that was to your satisfaction,” he murmured, still looking hopelessly dazed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Seems like you’re the one that’s not satisfied,” Bakugou returned, brushing the bottom of his foot against Deku’s bulge.
Though he noticeably shivered, Deku shook his head profusely. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m here for you.”
With shockingly little effort, Bakugou picked Deku up, and placed him on the bed. His knot hadn’t formed. He could definitely go again. It wouldn’t be right to leave Deku looking all disheveled like that, desperate and wanting. Didn’t want to think about what the omega might do to relieve himself, either.
“Go ahead and start jacking off for me,” Bakugou said, reaching for his own cock. “I want to see it.”
Deku made a huge show of spreading his legs, fingers clumsily fiddling with his hole. It was relatively performative, but Bakugou enjoyed it just the same, stroking his own dick as he watched. It wasn’t long before he was hard again. “That’s it,” he praised. “Get yourself nice and wet for me.”
A sharp whine was the response he received, Deku spreading his legs even further the closer Bakugou got to the bed.
Blood rushed in his ears. Three lifetimes since they’d kissed. Five since they’d been anything close to what might be defined as lovers. Bakugou was more than just craving him. Part of him wondered if Deku ever felt the same. Even if he couldn’t remember, was there something there—some base instinct that hungered for Bakugou too?
He wouldn’t allow himself to think too much about it. He let his cock drop over Deku’s hole, giving a few teasing strokes so that he could coat himself in that sweet slick before pushing himself in, Deku’s walls tight and greedy as they took him in.
The gasp Deku gave sounded like bliss, and when Bakugou began to move, soft mewls parted those still swollen lips.
“Is this why you’re a prostitute?” Bakugou raised Deku’s legs, holding them up above his shoulders as he bucked his hips. “You enjoy getting fucked that much?”
Deku tried to shake his head, but his eyes rolled back, his own hips moving to meet Bakugou’s thrusts. With each movement came a new sound, his hands clutched tight against the sheets in delicious desperation. “I-I…n-n-no…”
The desperation did something to him. He’d just gotten the blowjob, and he’d only been inside of Deku for a few minutes, but already he could feel his knot starting to form, hard and heavy.
Omega or not—Deku or not—Bakugou loved it sloppy.
“No? Look at yourself,” Bakugou grinned, dropping hold of one leg to encircle Deku’s cock. “You’re dripping.”
Both from the front and the back. Bakugou’s cock was coated in thick layers of the omega’s slick, and Deku’s precum was all but trickling down Bakugou’s knuckles.
Those sweet little mewls continued the more Bakugou stroked Deku’s cock. He didn’t know an omega could sound so cute. Their skin of their thighs was sliding against one another’s, making them all the more desperate for the friction, causing all the more movement and making it all the more messy. Some of Deku’s curls were starting to stick to his face, Deku’s sweat only making his scent all the stronger.
“Do you always get this hard from sucking an alpha off?” Bakugou pumped him, making sure his hand matched the rhythm of his hips. “Omegas are fucking slutty these days aren’t they?”
“You,” Deku blurted almost instantly, hands clawing at the alpha’s chest, trying to latch onto something. “It’s because—y-you—your scent—s-so good—”
Instinct—or possessiveness—or both, overtook him, Bakugou biting at Deku’s collar, fangs forcing an imprint on the hardened leather. Deku screamed, walls tightening and legs coiling around Bakugou, the sudden sensation enough for his knot to catch, Bakugou cursing as they both went over the edge, panting in shattered unison.
Fuck.
He’d never wait five lifetimes again.
As the cloud in his head slowly started to clear, Bakugou unlatched his fangs, muttering a lame apology. His knot pulsed and they both groaned, Bakugou pulling Deku closer to him so that they could lay comfortably on their sides, the omega’s back curled against Bakugou’s chest.
“Don’t mind it,” Deku managed. “That’s what the collars are for.”
If it were up to Bakugou, there’d be no collar, and the imprint of his bite would be on Deku’s scent glands instead. But that was frowned upon, and would probably be enough to get him blacklisted from PlusUltra. So that would have to wait for another day.
It didn’t stop him from wanting the omega’s scent glands.
“Can I scent you?”
Deku noticeably stiffened in his hold, shifting awkwardly on top of him. “That’s…”
“You wouldn’t have to take your collar off. Just the part that’s visible. I’ll let you see my quirk in exchange.”
That seemed to make the omega brighten, though he was still fidgeting. With every awkward movement Deku gave, a small jolt of pleasure rushed through Bakugou’s knot. It made it difficult to think.
“I’d definitely like to see your quirk! It’s just, well, you see there’s certain rules within PlusUltra that I’m required to adhere to. Of course, there’d be no way of knowing whether or not you showed your quirk, or whether or not I removed the collar. That is to say, it’s fine so long as there’s an agreement on both of our parts to never say anything. But then we come to the issue of trust. I’m not sure if I could do anything to prove myself given the fact that you’re the Number One Hero and you’d have a lot more to lose if a scandal broke out. That’s not to say that I don’t have anything to lose, I’d definitely be at a loss if I were to not have this job anymore, but I do really—”
“De—Miya.”
“Yes?”
Bakugou held his palm out, just beneath Deku’s face, letting the smallest of sparks start to crackle, like a sparkler they gave to kids during festivals.
Deku sat mesmerized, large eyes shining in amazement. As if still entranced, he took hold of Bakugou’s wrist, watching intently as the sparks died out. “That’s amazing…” he breathed. Then, turning back to look at Bakugou, “You’re amazing!”
The memory came suddenly, with a sharp pain, Deku’s childish face appearing before him, that large grin shining brightly at him. “You’re amazing, Kacchan!”
Bakugou swallowed it down, ignoring it. The only Deku that mattered right now, was the one in front of him. The one he was currently inside of.
There was nothing stopping them in this life. No war, no gender conformity, no weird religions, no societal taboo against two men being together. If anything, it were as if this life were specifically designed for Bakugou to finally get what he so desperately wanted.
And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it slip past his fingers this time.
“Can I?” He asked.
Deku swallowed. “So long as…my collar—”
“I won’t remove it,” Bakugou said, fingers already wedging to fit beneath the leather. It wasn’t much, but he was able to scrape his middle finger over the soft skin, Deku sighing beneath him.
The sound alone almost got him hard again.
Without a doubt, there was something about this life. Something that Bakugou needed to take advantage of. Because this was the first time he cycled through a life that was so similar to the last. There must have been something he was meant to do. Something he was supposed to do.
“Do you have a set schedule?” He asked, finally pulling his fingers away.
Deku took a moment to compose himself before answering. “I have a handful of clients. Did you enjoy yourself? I’m so glad if you did. I’d be really happy if you request me again—”
“Clear your schedule.”
“I-I can certainly request for PlusUltra to add you to my rotation—”
“You don’t fucking get it,” Bakugou emphasized, resisting the urge to growl. “I’m buying you out.”