Chapter Text
The whispers began as a murmur, a barely audible hum that Izuku could ignore. But over time, the murmurs turned into voices, and the voices into outright gossip.
"Five years, and still no heir."
"Perhaps the duchess is barren."
"The Duke deserves someone more capable."
Seated in the grand hall during a noble gathering, Izuku kept his hands folded on his lap, nails digging into the fabric of his gown. The conversations carried across the opulent chamber, their words sharp despite the genteel manner in which they were spoken. He pretended not to hear, pretended it didn't matter, but the weight of expectations settled on his shoulders like an iron cloak.
He had never once questioned his role as the Duke Bakugo's wife. Although they once shared a genuine love, their relationship has since changed into a political marriage arranged for convenience The marriage had been arranged between noble families, a union forged in duty rather than love. And yet, Izuku had grown to admire his husband. Katsuki Bakugo was a hero, a warrior of unmatched skill who had led their kingdom to countless victories. He was a man respected by all, trusted even by the king himself.
But he was also a man who never spared him more than a few moments of his time after marriage.
Izuku had accepted the lack of affection, had supported Katsuki from the shadows as a proper duchess should. But now, the burden of an heir loomed over him like a storm cloud, and it was no longer just the nobility whispering about it. Even the Duke’s own parents had begun pressing the matter, their disapproving stares piercing through him like daggers.
That night, Izuku made his way to Katsuki’s study, his heart pounding. He knew his husband had just returned from a meeting with the king, and exhaustion would likely weigh on him, but he needed to speak now before his courage wavered.
Standing before the heavy wooden door, he took a deep breath before knocking.
"Come in." Katsuki’s voice was firm, commanding as ever.
Izuku stepped inside, greeted by the sight of his husband seated behind a mountain of parchment. The glow of candlelight cast sharp shadows on his face, making him appear even more formidable than usual.
"What is it?" Katsuki asked without looking up, his attention fixed on a war report.
Izuku hesitated. "I wanted to talk. About… us. About an heir."
Katsuki finally lifted his gaze, golden eyes narrowing slightly. "Not this again."
Izuku swallowed, fingers tightening around the folds of his robe. "People are talking, Katsuki. They think—"
"I don’t care what they think." He cut him off, his tone dismissive. "You know my priorities, Izuku. I have a kingdom to protect. I don’t have time for meaningless gossip."
"But it's not meaningless!" Izuku’s voice trembled despite his best efforts to remain composed. "Your parents… the nobles… even the king. They all expect us to—"
"Tch." Katsuki exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "This isn’t the time for this discussion. We have a meeting with the king tomorrow. If you’re so worried about what people say, then act like the duchess you are and ignore them."
Izuku felt his chest tighten, the sting of his husband's words settling deep. "Is that really all I am to you now? A duchess in name? A title to uphold?"
Katsuki’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn't answer. Instead, he turned back to his reports, effectively dismissing him.
Izuku lingered for a moment longer, hoping for something—anything—that would make him stay. But the silence between them stretched, cold and unyielding.
With a quiet bow, he turned on his heel and left.
And with each step he took away from Katsuki, the weight of his own loneliness became unbearable.
The whispers had turned into demands.
Izuku sat across from the Duke’s parents in the dimly lit parlor, his hands curled into his lap as the Duchess, a formidable woman with piercing eyes, slid a small vial across the table. The liquid inside shimmered under the candlelight, deceptively innocent.
“This,” she said, voice firm, “will help you fulfill your duty as the Duchess.”
Izuku’s throat tightened. “I don’t—”
“You’ve been married to Katsuki for five years.” The Duke’s father cut him off, his deep voice carrying the weight of expectation. “Yet you remain childless. The nobles talk, the king listens, and soon, this family’s name will be questioned. We won’t let that happen.”
Izuku clenched his hands together. He knew his place. He knew his role. And yet, the burden grew heavier each day.
“Your duty is simple,” the Duchess continued, her tone softening just slightly, as if she were offering a kindness instead of a command. “Take it. Let it ease things between you and Katsuki. It will ensure that you both… enjoy each other as a married couple should.”
Izuku hesitated. He and Katsuki had never spoken of intimacy, let alone pursued it. But the pressure clawed at him, the weight of the entire noble society crushing his shoulders. Was he truly so unworthy? If this was the only way he could prove himself—
With a quiet nod, he took the vial and held it tight.
That night, as Katsuki entered their shared chamber, exhausted from yet another war council, Izuku stood by the bedside, fingers trembling. He had mixed the liquid into his own tea, feeling the warmth spread through him, his body awakening in a way it never had before.
When Katsuki approached, however, his sharp gaze flickered with suspicion.
“Izuku?” he murmured, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”
Izuku reached out, touching Katsuki’s chest, something he had never dared to do so boldly. His face burned. “Kacchan… just for tonight, can we—”
The moment his hands slid up, Katsuki grabbed his wrists—firm, unyielding. His crimson eyes darkened, not with desire, but with fury.
“What the hell did you take?”
Izuku froze. “I—”
Katsuki yanked him back, staring hard at him. “This isn’t you.” His voice was low, dangerously so. “You would never—”
Realization dawned. His grip tightened. “Who gave it to you?”
Izuku swallowed back the lump in his throat, shame washing over him. “It… it doesn’t matter. I just—”
“Doesn’t matter?” Katsuki snarled, his voice sharp like a blade. “You think I’d let anyone turn you into some puppet just because they’re whispering bullshit about an heir?”
Tears burned at the corners of Izuku’s eyes. “I just wanted to be enough for you,” he whispered.
Katsuki flinched, his anger faltering for just a second.
Izuku pulled his hands free, stepping back. “I know I’m unqualified to be your wife. I know people are waiting for me to fail. But I thought… if I could just give you a child, maybe… maybe you’d look at me longer than a few minutes.”
Silence stretched between them, suffocating. Katsuki opened his mouth, but for the first time, he had no immediate retort. No sharp words. No explosive anger.
Just silence.
Izuku turned away, shoulders trembling. “I’m tired, Katsuki.” His voice broke. “So, so tired.”
Then, without another word, he left the room, leaving Katsuki standing in the cold emptiness of their marriage, holding nothing but the weight of what he had just done.