#transfer rapide
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Take care of it Jimbo
#art#gif#animation#Jimmy#mouthwashing#sketch#prob won’t do anything g else with this but I’m gonna sleep and work on coms b4 anymore Jimbo himbo nonsense#I think he’s hallucinating but if not then it’s implied jimcurly#mpreg#tmpreg#rapid pregnancy#Anya transferring the jetus with her mind
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The innkeeper And the Demon He Invited in but now the demon is obsessed with him and will not stop until that gut is full of his own spawn.
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Magic rapid pregnancy curse! Over the next hour your belly will swell and you're going to painfully give birth, even if your body has to permanently transform into a shape that lets you do so.
The only way to avoid this fate is to pass the curse onto someone else. They wouldn't know it was you, but it has to be someone you know. Do you succumb to this rampant fertility, or force someone else to endure it? And do you know who it would be, if you're passing it on?
Ooooooh this great! A delightful bit of mischief. There’s a lot of ways this could go…can the person you transfer it to pass it on as well? Can they transfer it BACK to you or does it have to be a new person each time? Does the pregnancy grow at a constant rate across recipients (so there’s a time limit) or does it reset at each transfer? Do you have to be near the person/touch them to pass it on or can you do it just by thinking about them?
Depending on the answers we could branch off into multiple different stories or timelines. Great concept indeed.
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the dangers of thinking about magical pregnancies is 💦💦
just a novice magic user accidentally stumbling upon a fertility spell that not only gets them pregnant, but gets them so impossibly pregnant in such rapid succession they can't even get their clothes off quick enough when they're already pushing through contractions
a couple decides they want to look into fertility magic because their fertility comes into question and they don't want to spend all that money on treatments. it's only been a few weeks when their first pregnancy test comes positive with the line appearing immediately. everything seems normal but the fertility magic may have been too potent because at their 25 week ultrasound the tech spots a second, much smaller fetus in front of the original fetus. guess they'll need to be careful so no more surprise babies come along
hot potato with pregnancy where both (or more cause polycule) transfer the baby/babies whenever they need a break or have to do something important. everything is always safe and it's all talked about beforehand so whoever gets the baby is prepared. the due date is coming up quick and everyone has been deal with braxton hicks so it's literally a waiting game to see who has to go through labor and birth
a naughty fae finds an unsuspecting human to play around with and accidentally becomes pregnant. it never crossed their mind that they could reproduce with one but now they have to deal with the consequences now that this will be the first fae born in six hundred years and they have twelve months (if they don't pop before then human babies are huge) to figure out how to explain that to the consul.
werewolf shenanigans are always great BUT a polycule that is made up of a werewolf and two humans that don't pay attention to the wolf's "time of the month" and now they have to prepare for two litters in less than 5 months because both humans are extremely gravid with their very fertile partner's pups
#magical pregnancy#transference magic#werewolf pregnancy#fairy pregnancy#rapid preg#birth mention#implied multiples#multiples pregnancy#transference pregnancy
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there's something so fun about accidental pregnancy transfer omfg
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i dont have any like... proper lore 4 the egressregress zombies i need to work on it... i do for the other one though
#et cetera#latent disease tht makes u sick -> stays in ur body as asymptomatic but is able to be transferred via bodily fluids primarily saliva ->#'reactivation' (idk the word) caused by a bite from someone with the active variant or who is sick from the initial infection#hold on ive made a post abt it before let me find it#initial symptoms fevers nausea + fatigue after that increase in metabolic system as it starts to cause rapid physical mutations#growth + duplication of various body parts such as teeth + fingers -> as it progresses entire limbs and stomachs and mouths#mental degradation beginning w the onset of increase in metabolic rate happens slowly + then as time goes on happens#faster + faster. eventually the body will fail to keep up with consuming enough nutrients and will start to atrophy + they will starve#to death. though brain death may have occurred before this point + often does but the body is being moved and driven by the disease#<- they at some point come across one who has mutated to the point of immobility + is unrecognizable as having been a person#but is being fed by people to keep it alive#um the egressregress ones are more similar to undead zombies though.. but idk what causes it#or if i want to give it proper reasoning or if its just 'well theyre zombies'#but i want to... because its fun
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Rapidhostien/Rapidhosien
[Image ID: in the centre is a line with a centre diamond. the diamond is split in half vertically and the left side and the line on that side is lilac, and the other side and the other line is an almost black red. the space above the line and the diamond is dark red, and top of that on the left, half is a dark purple shape that goes to the top of the flag diagonally to the right along the top left edge of the diamond. the space to the bottom of the line and diamond is reddish pink, and on top of that on the left, half is a purple shape that goes to the bottom of the flag diagonally to the right along the bottom left edge of the diamond. ID End]
Rapidhostien (or Rapidhosien) is a term for systems who experience Rapid Host Transfer!
A system that is Rapidhostien may experience constant change in host, one after the other like a train, or there may be breaks between each host. It may be random members, or it may be an order.
Open to all system types to use!
Thank you to Ceresys for the image id!
#plural coining#coining post#actually plural#endo friendly#endo safe#rapidhostien#rapidhosien#! f; callum !#rapid host transfer
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it has been 0 days since ive received a call about an issue with a radio system that they refuse to train me on.
#WHILE THERE'S ACTIVELY A RADIO OPERATOR IN RAPID#make it make sense#it IS weird yes WHAT do you want me to do about it#watching the engineer remote in and do what i was gonna do anyway but didnt want to fuck with the FILE TRANSFERS THAT ARE HAPPENING#... it's playing windows notification sounds over air lmao#and this program is just. constantly alerting.#WHY DO THEY EVEN HAVE THE WHOLE COMPUTER ROUTED INTO THE BROADCAST SYSTEM#sobbing watching him trying to fix this#he's in the sound settings#it did this EARLIER THIS WEEK#absolutely baffling experience#just train me on the stupid maincontrol im begging u
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Denis Draguş'un Trabzonspor'daki Performansı ve Gelecek İhtimalleri
Denis Draguş’un Trabzonspor Macerası Trabzonspor, geçtiğimiz sezon 1.7 milyon Euro bonservis bedeliyle kadrosuna kattığı Denis Draguş için beklenen performansı henüz sergileyemedi. Rumen futbolcu, bordo-mavili forma altında 13 maçta yalnızca 1 gol ve 1 asist kaydetti. Bu durum, kulüp yönetimi ve taraftarlar arasında hayal kırıklığına neden oldu. Draguş’un performansındaki düşüş, Rapid Bükreş gibi…
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Gas Fired Thermic Fluid Heater
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Experience Cutting-Edge Heat Transfer: Our Product introduces a new realm of industrial heating. Whether for manufacturing, chemical processing, or other sectors, this advanced heater delivers reliable, efficient, and precise heat transfer, optimizing your processes. It integrates technology, efficiency, durability, and precision, offering a forward-focused solution that aligns with your energy and operational goals. Elevate your heat transfer processes and invest in a product that ensures exceptional performance. Embrace a new era of heat exchange with our state-of-the-art Gas Fired Thermic Fluid Heater.
#Gas Fired Thermic Fluid Heater#Thermic Fluid Heater#Gas Heater#Industrial Heat Transfer Equipment#Fluid Heating System#High Efficiency Heating Solutions#Rapid Heat Exchange#Industrial Fluid Heating Technology#Gas Powered Heating System#Industrial Process Heating#Thermic Fluid Heating Equipment#Reliable Heat Transfer Solutions#Energy Efficient Fluid Heater#Thermal Fluid Heating System#Industrial Heat Generation Technology
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shift from hell the day i come back from the holidays 😀
#i had to call a rapid 15 minutes into my shift#and they got transferred to icu#so good thing i caught it but#they were stroking out on me HELLO
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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── as the last woman on earth, a government bounty marks you as humanity’s only hope for repopulation. unexpectedly, stumbling into your college football team becomes your lifeline, but instead of turning you in, they want to impregnate you on their own terms.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 + 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 with isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, barou shoei, kunigami rensuke, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro & mikage reo
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, mentions of sexism in medicine, gangbang, breeding, cunninlingus, unprotected s*x, mild degradation, reader gets spanked once, mentions of food, mentions of babies, mentions of pregnancy, reverse harem, reader gets kidnapped, creampies, double penetration, nipple play, mentions of viral outbreaks, home isolation, mentions of human torture and experimentation, apocalypse AU, dark content ahead (10k+ words i am sick in the head)
⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist
One thing about life you were coming to find out in your short existence, was that it could change in the blink of an eye.
One day, you’re a popular cheerleader everyone loves, on the Dean’s List and speeding through to a life of accolades and financial stability, then the next, a viral outbreak spirals out of control, infecting and offing only women.
It started with rapid coughing and sneezing. Many expert scientists cited a woman's inferior immune system compared to men. They barely paid any attention to the growing casualties in one half of the population, just like how they turned a blind eye to PCOS or the persistent chronic pain most women seemed to experience throughout their lives.
As the voices of one half went unheard, the dire consequences slapped mankind fully in the face.
Birth rates dropped, many nations lost their manpower and society became increasingly violent and hostile.
Those women that were left were transferred to medical facilities under the guise of rehabilitating them. But, there were the rumours of abuse and medical experiments that arose from shady forums and chat groups.
You had read some of them from Jienna’s laptop when she was still alive.
Your best friend and roommate was an advocate for women’s rights, even before the world hadn’t gone to shit, and she was the first one who opened your eyes to the blatant mistreatment women were going through official medical channels. When the virus hit, the both of you huddled in your shared dormitory, trading packets of ramen and stories while waiting for more aid to come.
She always had such a bright smile and determination. The day the virus took her away from you was one you could never forget.
Jienna laid on her bed, a grey pallor overtaking her once radiant skin. The skincare she religiously applied was gathering dust on her dresser, and everytime she exhaled, it sounded coarser and coarser.
Eventually, she closed her eyes and never awoke again, and you had to page the medical team to extract her body, all while tears streamed down your cheeks and you were hovering on the edge of a full meltdown.
Your family across the country couldn’t even come and see you; your brothers were barred from taking you back home, as every woman in the district was given strict orders to remain at home and behind locked doors to keep the virus away.
But, it always managed to slip through the cracks. Whether it was from infected food or contaminated medical equipment.
The virus killed any female it touched.
News reports began surfacing that hens were dying out, impacting the supply of eggs. Cows were dropping dead in fields, the world’s milk supply running dry for the first time in existence. The pregnant black cat you used to feed behind your dorms was found dead behind a dumpster by a group of computer science boys.
Slowly, the world descended into chaos, and more and more women were disappearing.
It was exactly day 40 of your lockdown when you decided you would run away.
Packing every non-perishable canned food you could find into a big bag, you waited until dusk fell and when the nurses would hand you your dinner. You knew it would be one of the older security guys who used to direct parking on your campus, and he had a bad hip so he couldn’t chase you down.
As much as you hated hurting him, the first punch in his face was enough to knock him out cold. You hopped over his body, careening down the hallway and pushing yourself towards the outside of the college campus.
Luck was on your side when you dashed out the front door to find an idle truck. It was from one of the block rangers, and you didn’t hesitate to jump inside of it, revving the engine and stepping down on the gas pedal.
Someone yelled out your name, but you were too fired up to care. In your mind, you decided it would be better to die from the virus than staying cooped up for the rest of your life. At least with dying, you would be free.
You had no plan and no idea what to do next but to race towards the closest abandoned building you could find. Jienna had told you about it during her dying days—how there was a series of abandoned buildings just at the edge of town where defiant women stayed the last of their days there.
Having seen with your own eyes what the virus did to your roommate, you were sure you were prepared to go out the same way. There would be a few days where your immune system fought back, but without the right food and care, you would waste yourself away.
Better than being trapped forever in a small dorm. You viciously gunned the engine and raced towards that shining beacon of hope.
The buildings out of town were abandoned like Jienna said, and you prepared to set up your death camp. The concrete slab walls were drab and the floor was too hard and cold to sleep on, but you made do with a blanket you managed to steal from the lobby.
Days passed and soon, you were starting to wonder if the virus was even real. Your meals consisted of canned beans and whatever scraps you could find in the dumpster nearby. You didn’t dare to light a fire in case it might attract someone’s attention, and your showers were virtually non-existent.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left the dorms.
Those thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘should haves’ kept you up at night and haunted your waking moments.
One day, you thought you heard footsteps echoing down the hallways, but then, you found out it was just a bunch of squatters looking for a place to sleep. They turned their nose up on the squalor and left you alone feeling bemused and a little disappointed that not even the lowest rank of humanity would want to spend a night at a place you consistently slept in.
But, your newfound freedom was too good to be true.
It had been too quiet and too peaceful. The bubble was waiting to pop and your hopes burst one day when you awoke in cold sweat to hear a man’s voice down the hallways.
“... heard she escaped here…”
“Are you sure?”
The fatigue weighing you down shot out of your system and you sat up ramrod straight, rushing to get your goods without making a sound.
“No news of… gotta be the last one in the vicinity…”
You hurriedly stuffed your blanket into your backpack, taking care not to breathe too loud in case they might hear. The beam of a flashlight pricked your irises, and having lived for a while in the dark, you weren’t used to such brightness.
Squinting, you stayed close to the walls, slinging your bag onto your shoulders and preparing to depart down a flight of steps straight into the forest fringing these buildings. Your flexibility as a cheerleader back in your old life helped you out to creep on the floors quietly, extending one leg and then another while keeping close to the walls.
However, you didn’t see where your foot landed, and before you could stop in mid-step, the empty can of beans went clattering to the ground.
For a split second, all you could hear was your breath and the rush of blood in your ears.
The beam of light immediately swung towards your direction, illuminating your left leg and the implicated empty can in question.
Shit. You had been discovered.
“Wait!” One of the men yelled, but you didn’t stop to listen. Hightailing it out of here, you sprinted to the entrance, about to escape into the night when you felt a bigger body slam into you from the side.
Screaming out, you barely caught a glimpse of your perpetrator, but he was holding you down with his larger body, pinning you right to the dirty ground.
“Got her!” he yelled back to other men. “It’s a girl! She’s here!”
You blindly reached your hand out and felt the sharp edge of a rock cut into your palm. Swinging it towards him, you bashed the side of his head, and in the glimpses of light from the shining moon up ahead, you caught sight of his vivid, dark hair.
The man yelped and stumbled back, staunching the heavy flow of blood oozing from his right cheek.
“Fuck!” he bellowed, and you used his momentum of shock to push him off of you.
But, he had enough dexterity to clamp a hand around your knee, bringing you back down to the ground.
“No!” you started to scream and sob. “Please! Let me go!”
Someone else came to his rescue, holding you down. You felt ropes around your wrists, drawing them behind your back. Your sobs were muffled by a bag thrown over your head, and for good measure, they tied your ankles, too. It took two of them to carry you into a car, and you were laid on someone’s lap, his arms roping around you and pressing you to his chest.
As the men piled back into the car, you started to sob when you heard the engine ignite.
“Ssh, it’s okay,” the man who held you crooned. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N.”
Through your tears, you recognized that they knew your name.
A hand touched your knee, rubbing it soothingly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
That voice. You had heard it before. It brought to mind dark blue eyes and a mop of dark hair. A pair of toned legs tearing through a football field and a charming, lopsided smile.
“I-Isagi?”
He hummed. “It’s me, Y/N. Barou’s holding you, by the way.”
In answer, the self-proclaimed king of the field back from when your college days consisted of study horrors and not a world crisis, flooded your mind with stark familiarity when he exhaled out your name.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“It’s the boys from the football team,” Isagi informed you, like you were on a road trip with them instead of forcefully being kidnapped against your own will.
“H-how did you find me?” The bag they stuffed over your head smelled musty, and you struggled to talk through it. “C-can you get this fucking thing off my head?”
Someone pried the sack off, and you inhaled in deep gusts of air, your wide eyes taking in the darkened interior of this truck and the boys who were holding you hostage.
Isagi had lost a bit of weight since you last saw him. The last you heard of the Blue Lock team’s co-captain was that he had lost his mother to the virus and the school had started a fund for him to cover her funeral expenses. Turning your eyes towards the man who was holding you, Barou’s jaw was tight, and his eyes were heavy with dark circles.
The man driving was Kunigami, whose hands were white-knuckled fists on the steering wheel. Next to him in the passenger, bleeding out from his cheek, was Itoshi Rin. You noticed how he side-eyed you from the front, and returned his evasive look with a frosty glare.
Lastly, at the back of this 8-seater was Chigiri, Nagi and Reo—the former two being the most unlikely combination of acquaintances you had ever seen join this ragtag group of football bros. Nagi and Reo were famous for being fused at the hip since they both started their business degree courses together. They rarely fraternised with anyone else outside of their coursemates, much less kidnap some random woman.
At the reminder of your predicament, you squirmed, accidentally rubbing your ass all over Barou’s crotch. He didn’t react beyond a low hiss of, “Quit it,” those thick and sturdy arms tightening around your trembling body. You tried to ignore how you could feel something hard poking your lower back.
“Why did you kidnap me?” you demanded off the bat. “How did you find me? What are you going to do with me?”
Those rapid questions were met with silence. You flitted your gaze to each of them, and through the passing snatches of orange streetlights, you saw every one of their expressions drenched in guilt.
“We… don’t know.”
Isagi was the one who spoke first, preparing himself to earn your rage.
“You don’t know?” you mumbled, growing more incensed every minute with how they had wrenched you from your peaceful life in the ruins. “You don’t know where you’re taking me. What you’re planning to do with me. You don’t know the reason why you went through all that trouble to track me down. You don’t—”
“It’s because you have a bounty on your head.”
Rin’s voice cut through your growing tirade, leaving you cold with disbelief.
“I… what?”
On your right, Isagi nodded, rubbing the back of his neck like he would rather be somewhere else than in this vehicle having such a difficult conversation.
“After you escaped, the officials posted your bounty and your suspected whereabouts. Um, it’s uh… well, Y/N… you’re the last woman alive from our college.”
You exhaled, feeling your chest constrict and tears prick your eyes.
All your lecturers… your friends… your cheerleading gang…
“Are they all gone?” The boys didn’t comment on your thick voice or the unshed tears.
Kunigami was the first one to express his remorse. “I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s the truth.”
Rin decided to rip the bandaid off quicker, leaving you reeling in confusion and despair. “The authorities put up notices for you because your status was unknown. They said that anyone who brought you back—dead or alive—would receive two million yen.”
The reality of your situation settled in like sentiment falling to the bottom of a glass jar.
You felt cold all over, your heartbeat right in your throat.
“So, you’re either going to k-kill me or turn me in, huh?”
Your heavy question was met with silence.
Surprisingly, it was Nagi at the back who piped up in his lazy, drawling tone. “Actually… we have a better plan.”
Isagi was the first to react. He shot Nagi a murderous look, shaking his head. Kunigami glanced at the white-haired man through the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes, and Rin’s scowl deepened. Chigiri, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, sighed out, “Idiot” under his breath.
The only one who looked supportive of what Nagi had to say was—no surprise there—Reo himself.
“It’s a good plan! She’s still healthy,” he argued on behalf of his best friend. Nagi nodded, humming.
“The virus should’ve taken her out weeks ago, but she managed to survive all on her own in such dirty conditions… I really think we should give it a shot.”
The air in the car changed; thickening and becoming ripe with tension. Barou’s arms suddenly felt too hot around your body, and you broke out into a sweat.
“It could work,” Isagi started out slowly, rubbing his chin. He had a look on his face you knew all too well—that calculative, goal-hungry stare that would eventually destroy his enemies.
Rin tilted his head towards the backseat, his turquoise eyes drawing circles on the car’s water-stained ceiling. “Do you think that would be legal for us to do?”
“We have to keep her hidden.” Chigiri spoke up, demanding everyone's attention. “The authorities can’t know that we have a woman with us or we’d be punished. We have to be very careful with Y/N.”
You were still drawing blanks on their ideas, growing more frustrated every single second you were kept in the dark from their decisions on your fate. “What do you fucking assholes mean? Legal? Keeping me away from the authorities? What do you want with me?”
Your voice broke on the last question, and without warning, you started to sob. The weeks of roughing it out on your own, trying to escape from society and hide in plain sight were taking its toll on you. You wept bitterly, hiding your face behind your hair and sobbing into your shoulder.
“Shit,” someone muttered in the front.
“Give her some water.”
It was Isagi who gently coaxed your face from your shoulder, holding a bottle of clean water. You contemplated spitting a mouthful at him, but ultimately, your thirst won out and you drank deeply.
He wiped your tears off with the sleeve of his threadbare sweater and you hiccuped into a silence, already accepting your death.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Reo murmured from the back. You lifted your swollen, red eyes to find his purple ones full of sincerity. “We actually want to keep you safe. There’s been rumours about human experiments and none of us want you to go through that. We want to keep you safe.”
You should’ve known the group’s appointed spokesperson would be a man used to spouting sweet words to get his way—whether with professors or girls—but a part of you wanted to believe Reo. You were so, so tired of fending for yourself, you wanted someone to help you with the burden of being a woman in these unacceptable times.
“Yes, Y/N.” Rin’s sudden reassurance struck you dumb with disbelief. “We have our old frat house—nobody comes by there anymore. We’ll keep you safe there and you can rest.”
It all sounded too good to be true. Here was a band of college footballers being completely sweet with you—wanting to protect, nurture and keep you hidden. But, you were waiting for the other shoe to drop; the catch in this arrangement.
“There’s more,” you whispered, scenting out their bullshit. “You’re not telling me the real reason.”
Men were never good liars—that much you could tell. So, when every single footballer glanced at the other, your senses were in red alert, demanding to uncover what was the terrible footnote to this otherwise flawless proposal.
“Well?” you muttered coldly, strengthening your resolve. “What do you want from me? What’s the catch?”
Reo was quick to turn your question around. “What? There’s no catch—”
“There is.” It was Isagi who spoke, sounding resigned and tired in the dimming darkness. “There is a catch. We shouldn’t lie to her, guys. We all agreed to tell her the truth if we found her and she was willing to listen.”
You held your breath, waiting for Isagi to drop the bomb. He seemed like he needed a moment to stabilise himself. He drew in a deep breath and unlocked his shoulders, looking you square in the eye. You half-wished he had kept you in the dark; never told you the truth. Because what he said next completely swept you off your feet, landing you onto the ground face-first and gasping in disbelief.
“It’s not about rewards or money—it’s about duty. We need your help to repopulate this city, Y/N… we want you to carry one of our babies.”
You felt a pair of broad-set shoulders shake under your smaller frame, the man underneath you stretching out his kinks and stiff muscles after a night of good sleep.
“Hm,” he groaned, brushing a hand down your bare spine. “Good morning, angel.”
Reo’s husky voice drew you back into consciousness, and you whined, burying your face into his neck to hide yourself from the morning’s glare. He chuckled at your antics, nosing your hair and pressing soft kisses onto your temple. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’s Rin’s turn with you today.”
Without missing a beat or opening your eyes, you mumbled: “Maybe you should all fuck me at one go so you guys can see who’s strong enough to knock me up.”
You meant those words as a joke, but when Reo’s shoulders stiffened, you suddenly realised the depth of danger you were flirting with.
“Don’t say such things you’ll regret, sweetheart,” he meant to tease you, gently easing you off his chest. “Or, the boys won’t stop until you give each one of us a baby.”
You tried to laugh, to shake off the sudden unease. Today was Wednesday, and Wednesdays meant pancake days in this unconventional household. You got up and slipped on Reo’s shirt, fluffing out your shorter hair. The guys had insisted you cut your locks so that it would be easier to hide them under a baseball cap and pass you off as a man if anyone came looking.
Sometimes, you did miss your femininity, but in a world where it was literally dying out, you couldn’t take any chances.
Flashing Reo a smile, you hummed. “Don’t laze around too much like Nagi—I’m making breakfast.”
In the living room, Bachira was the only one up and awake, his bright golden eyes following your every move as you wished him good morning and prepared your ingredients. Without a sound, he slipped behind you, calloused hands warm on your bare belly.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, making goosebumps rise on your arms.
“Morning, Meguru,” you mumbled, trying to ignore how his hands were creeping up to your bare breasts. Living with seven men meant that you were subjected to their advances night and day. It got even worse when you had told them you missed your period last week, but your cycle turned out to be just a few days late.
That didn’t stop them from feeling you up, grasping your hips or pressing soft kisses to your neck when you least expected it. Like now, with Bachira’s hot breath bathing the sensitive strip of your jaw.
Meguru hadn’t been part of your kidnapping heist a few weeks ago, but he had shown up when Isagi called—ready to be of service and contribute his portion in repopulating your tiny, dying town.
Clicking your tongue at the price tag on the egg carton, you flipped the cardboard cover closed, affronted by the steep spike in those numbers.
“It’s getting bad out there, right?”
Bachira paused his efforts in running his nose down your neck, taken off guard by your sudden question. “Um. Yeah. Why’d you ask, princess?”
Because I haven’t seen the outside world in weeks. You swallowed your bitterness, focused on whipping the yolks into a golden perfection. The boys were doing their best to make you feel cosy and safe within these walls; you couldn’t be too ungrateful. They didn’t let you out for fear of someone catching sight of you—that’s why the windows and doors were all covered and barricaded.
They restricted your contact with only seven of them because they didn’t want an anonymous tip-off to result in you being taken away.
Every Blue Lock player was careful to protect their golden ace.
“Nothing,” you hummed in the breeziest voice you could muster. “Just curious, s’all.”
“Hmm.” Bachira’s hands moved up to your naked tits moving freely under Reo’s bigger t-shirt. “You smell like him,” he accused you softly with a nip to your ear. “That stupid rich boy.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you tried not to smirk, but failed.
“Nah.” Bachira’s fingers trailed to your stiffening nipples, still sore from Reo’s ministrations (he loved biting down on them while you rode him) and eased the soft flesh in between his thumb and forefinger. “I was waiting for my turn—can’t believe I have to share you with those bastards.” You tried not to gasp and push your body back to meet his pelvis halfway, failing miserably to measure a cup full of milk. Some of the liquid sloshed onto your wrist and you heard Meguru snort.
“I love how sensitive you are, baby.”
Biting on your lower lip to stifle a whine, you pushed your ass back to brush the front of his pants, finding him already hard and waiting.
Bachira was one of the more eager boys, and you had to pace yourself and him less he fucked you on this counter and ruined Rin’s day with you.
“Meguru—”
“I know, I know,” he groaned, sounding both lustful and disappointed. “You’re emo Itoshi’s tonight. Fucking stupid stick game.” Cursing himself for literally getting the shorter end of the stick, you felt his pout imprint on your skin. “But, can’t we have a little bit of fun, baby? Can I eat your pussy out at least?”
You literally throbbed at his words, and almost gave in to the rushing desire sweeping you off your feet. Almost—until you heard Isagi’s voice knocking the both of you out of this lust-filled fog.
“Hey. What’re you both doing?”
While you smelled a threat, Bachira smelled an opportunity. His grin was shark-like, cutting through the tension when he didn’t stop playing with your nipples or back down when you hissed out his name.
“What’s it look like? I’m trying to fuck her.”
You tensed, waiting for Isagi to be pissed off. He was the one who reinforced this one-night sharing rule, and to see his best friend blatantly disregarding it would set off his rigid ego.
But, to your surprise, Isagi tilted his head, taking note of your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “I think she… she likes it.”
Bachira glanced down to find your mouth parted slightly, brows furrowed with a deceptive look of pain when both men knew what it was. Desire.
Isagi, who could smell a goal or a wrench in the plans from a mile away, started to chuckle.
“Lift up her shirt. Continue playing with her nipples, Meguru.”
“Yes, captain,” Bachira sang, and lifted the hem of Reo’s sleep shirt up to expose your puffy, swollen nipples.
“Shit,” Isagi breathed, and you didn’t miss how he had to adjust himself through his shorts, those dark blue eyes eclipsed with a dark, unnamed emotion you were terrified to uncover. “They look so perfect and pointy.”
Bachira rolled your sensitive buds between his two fingers, ignoring your soft yelp and flinch when he began to tug on them with a bit more force. “Huh—it really is. Reo must’ve prepped her nicely for us.”
“For what?”
The voice of another lover joined the fray. You peeled your watery eyes up to find Reo’s curious expression sweeping between his two friends and your own flushed face. He didn’t seem angry that you were being fondled by Bachira in broad daylight—in fact, Reo looked like he didn’t feel anything.
He almost looked bored, sweeping those purplish hues to Isagi. “So, are we finally doing it?”
“Hmm.”
Doing what? You wanted to ask, but your head was tilted back, mouth falling open only for it to be filled by Bachira’s tongue coaxing yours to come and play with his. His kiss—if it could even be called that—was sloppy and unhurried, its full intention to leave you feeling shame and vulnerability in front of two of your other lovers.
Showing them how you easily folded and lost yourself to the sensations.
“Mm—can see her moving her hips,” Isagi’s lowered, husky voice shot a potent mix of desire and shame through your veins. “Check how wet she is Meguru.”
Abiding his best friend, Bachira dipped two fingers past the waistband of your sleep shorts. You mewled and tossed your head back when he swiped through your folds, teasingly circling your clit.
As soon as he gave you that wonderful friction, he retrieved it, leaving you high and dry.
“Meguru,” you whimpered. Bachira ignored you, holding his fingers up to the other two men; his digits glistening with your juices.
“I don’t think she can wait anymore,” Reo murmured, and this time, you caught a flash of darkness in his otherwise kind eyes. “Isagi—”
“I’ll go first.”
Meguru nudged you firmly to face the approaching, dark-haired man. You couldn’t keep your eyes off Isagi’s intense, blue eyes that were pinning you right to the spot like you were about to be burned on a stake. The fire came next when he reached out to caress your cheek, trailing his hand down your neck and grabbing your throat.
“Tease her clit again,” he ordered, and Bachira playfully said,
“Yes, captain.”
Fuck. You were growing lightheaded from the combination of Isagi choking you and Bachira running slow circles on your throbbing clit. It was even filthier when you remembered Reo was watching, most likely getting off to your desperate pinched expressions.
“Meguru… Yoichi…”
Calling them by their first name seemed to spur on those two men. Meguru eased one finger past your tight ring of muscle, melting through your spongy walls and hooking the tip of this thick index right against your g-spot. He nudged it forward in a fluid motion, like how he would effortlessly send forward a ball across the field, forcing a yelp past your kiss-swollen lips.
Your vision was purely dominated by Isagi’s increasingly unhinged expression; the sweat bulleting down his forehead, his mouth parted in a silent snarl, those dark, beautiful eyes coaxing you to jump down a well just to feel his touch…
“Y-Yoichi.”
As if he understood your deeper need, Isagi nodded feverishly at Bachira. “Remove her shorts… hold her open while I eat her out.”
Dutifully, Meguru followed his friend's instructions. You watched with wide, unblinking eyes as Yoichi got to his knees, his mouth so close to where you needed him the most.
Bachira slung your shorts down your ankles, revealing the sweet shape of your mound and the even sweeter treasure hidden in between your folds. Like a man hellbent on a mission, Yoichi gently pried your clit from under her hood, revealing the throbbing bud waiting to be licked, sucked or loved on.
You barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth was on you.
Every man in this house ate you out differently. Reo was more careful and controlled. Nagi was languid and tended to overstimulate you. Barou loved to have your legs on his shoulders as he dove in between your thighs.
But, Isagi was different; he ate you out with the determination of a man who had to prove he was the best in every way.
The feeling of his tongue swiping through your folds, those perfect pink lips sealing around your clit and how he sounded like he was making out with your pussy made you clench down on thin air.
“Yoichi…” you breathed.
Bachira went to work on stimulating you, too, tugging your shirt above your head and pinching your nipples again.
Both boys were so intent on driving you to the edge, that they didn’t realise the group of spectators they were attracting.
From the corner of your watery eyes, you noticed Rin standing, arms crossed over his broad shoulders and frosty glare—tainted with jealousy—directed towards the man in between your thighs. Kunigami had just gotten out of the shower, so his hair was still damp while Barou had returned from a workout, his muscles swollen and shiny with sweat. Chigiri and Nagi were the only ones probably still asleep, though you had little doubt your stream of moans would wake them up out of curiosity.
Meguru flicked the tip of his nails on your nipples, the sharp sting sending bites of pleasure right to your core.
“Megu—” you were interrupted again by another sloppy kiss.
“Tch. You’re all such fucking horndogs.” Rin’s grumble was white noise behind the blood rushing in your ears.
“... you’re not complaining…”
“Shut up…”
A sharp nip to your flesh inner thigh wrenched you back to the present, and you gasped, making eye contact with Isagi and his raised brow.
“You’re getting bored, Princess?”
Without missing a beat, you shook your head. “N-no, ‘Ichi. Mm’sorry.”
He clicked his tongue, obviously not buying your lie. “Here you are getting your pussy eaten out by me and you’re focusing on the other boys. Just admit that you’re a fucking cockwhore, Y/N.”
You gaped at his words, and your rage was lost when Bachira dragged you back to the counter, arranging you face down and ass up.
“M-Meguru—!”
“Come on, who wants to fuck her first,” he boldly exclaimed, shaking you to the core. “She’s ready for a baby.”
You burned from the inside out at how cheaply he was treating you; that sensation amplified by the sharpest slap of humiliation across your cheeks, Bachira’s handprint glowing warmly on your skin. He spanked you again, matching his mark on your right cheek to your left one, letting you cry out and clench down on thin air.
“Me.” A deep, resonate voice which you loved having at your ear while he fucked you on every Monday night. After all—a King always went first.
As one of the bigger guys, Barou’s physique gave him the advantage over the others to call dibs on you first, his undeniably good genetics and strong bone structure a contender for healthy babies.
You felt Bachira’s warmth melt from your side to be replaced by the feel of Shoei’s toned thighs pressed against your rear.
He soothed the spanks left on your skin with one large, coarse palm, and hummed deeply.
“You ready, pretty?”
Nodding, you turned your head to the side, unable to believe that you were in such a vulnerable position to be fucked by the entire football team.
You weren’t going to lie—you had imagined yourself in this position before. But, it was always in your wildest fantasies; to be defiled by the football team in your tiny uniform behind the bleachers. If you were being honest, every girl on campus had the same daydream, but you were closer to the unattainable. The entire idea was such a cliche, and yet, here you were, in a room full of hungry, testosterone-fuelled men who eagerly waited to have their turn with you—the pretty cheerleader from their bygone days before the world tried to kill humanity off.
Barou wasted no time in sinking his thick cock into you, groaning as your body took him inch by inch. He rubbed your hips, leaning forward to gently thumb your nipple. “There you go, baby. Taking me so well.”
His words were a stark contrast from his actions. Shoei gave a low, guttural groan when he bottomed out, a dirty thrill shooting down your spine at the feel of his entire cock moulding with your walls as seven other men gaze lustfully at you.
Through the shine of an old kettle on the counter top, you noticed Isagi palming himself through his shorts. Bachira was blatantly jacking himself off, one hand inside his sleep shorts. Kunigami was sitting on the sofa, staring at you slack-jawed and completely hard under his towel. Reo was the more subtle one, furtively glancing around and looking slightly uncomfortable, but still unable to tear his eyes from you.
Chigiri and Nagi had woken up, and Rin was standing a little ways by the door, distancing himself from the activities taking place.
For a split second, you felt bad for him—Rin was supposed to have you today, but he had to wait for his turn as the other guys fucked you; figuratively and literally blue-balled by his own teammates. It would’ve made you mad on his behalf if you weren’t—
“Ow!”
A sharp tug on your roots snapped your head back, and your cry bounced off the walls. Barou’s lips were on your neck, his hot breath fanning across your neck.
“Did I tell you you could be distracted? Pay attention to when your King fucks you.”
From the back, you heard Bachira snicker, but every thought flew out of your head when Barou set a pace which had your toes curling in your house slippers. He clamped one hand around the delicate roots of your hair, while the other guided your hips to meet his halfway.
The sound of balls hitting flesh filled the air, along with your animalistic groans and Barou’s deep ones. You heard a few more muffled groans, and someone cursing, but your thoughts were doused in wet cotton, growing heavier and fuzzier.
You could barely keep your eyes open, only cognizant of Barou’s cock shaping your walls and the impending ball of heat waiting to unravel right under your navel. Meeting his thrusts cleanly, soft mewls fell from your plush lips like dew, mingling with a bit of drool puddling onto the counter right under your mouth.
Barou was fucking you stupid and the other men knew it. He couldn’t stop the feral grin splitting his face in half when your hips bucked, a little slutty tick which told every man you were about to cum.
Without warning, you felt wet warmth fill you to the brim—your first load of the day taken like a champ.
Shoei hadn’t let you cum, and you reeled back from the disappointment with barely any grace; your soft sob was replaced by a moan when another man lined up his cock to your stuffed entrance.
You smelled his fresh pine cologne before you saw him, and sensed Rin’s impatience the second he gripped your jaw and wrenched your face back for a deep, frenzied kiss.
“Fucking whore,” he whispered into the heat of your mouth. “Letting the other boys feel you up when it’s my turn with you today. Where’s your shame?”
Your answer melted as one with a dulcet moan when Rin slid two fingers in between your swollen folds, testing the waters of your arousal. He barely cared when his digits were coated with a combination of Barou’s cum and your juices; he just stuck those soiled, pale and nimble fingers which could’ve rivalled a skilled pianist down your throat. You gagged on them, eyes going blurry and all teary from the flavouring of sin heavy on your tongue.
“Rin,” you hiccuped, and he hummed.
“Take me deeper, baby.”
His command brought a throbbing wave of desperation arresting you from head to toe. You tried to bring his fingers further down your gullet, but gagged when he was almost knuckle-deep.
“Mhpmh!” Your syrupy moan made every man groan, the sheer desperation in how you attempted to fully swallow Rin’s fingers a commendable feat considering he had absurdly thick fingers to match his height.
“Good girl,” Rin praised you in a husky voice when he felt your throat bob around his digits. “You’re really such the perfect fuckdoll, huh? Always so ready for us.”
“Mhmm…” your eyes rolled back into your head, your entire body tensing when you felt his cock slowly breach past your tight ring of muscle.
“Fucking take this dick, baby, I know you can,” the youngest striker urged, his words beyond filthy compared to the other men. Rin was one of the only few people in this house who could talk you through the immense pleasure, and you loved him all the more for it.
His obscene mouth would never fail to leave you reeling from the difference in his demeanour; sour and quiet when he wasn’t fucking you, to brash and downright filthy when he was egging you towards an orgasm.
You loved Rin and his duality; lived to watch it come to life.
You wanted to swallow him down and eat him up whole to satiate the deep well of lust inside of you no matter the price.
“Rin…” you gurgled past his fingers. “Mhmmmore.”
“More?” he interpreted your gurgles with the ghost of a chuckle. You quite liked it when Rin laughed even if it was a soft exhale; it made you feel lighter to hear his happiness. He hummed and plunged his fingers back down your throat, playing with the soft palate of your tongue, while his cock inched deeper and deeper into your sacred heat.
The second he bottomed out, his forehead thumped onto your shoulder, a long drawn out groan of relief radiating warmth right into your throbbing heart. Rin’s reactions were adorable as they were pussy stirring, his duality further exacerbated by those spit-slicked fingers retracting from your mouth and moving down to your puffy clit.
He gently rubbed circles into them, catching you whenever you bucked into his embrace. His lips were on your neck, his hot breath expelling heated groans onto the sensitive skin. Every single shaky circle on your sensitive nub was pulling you closer and closer into a white hole of pleasure.
Your moans were reaching fever pitch, and the entire house was doused with the arousal of seven men who couldn’t wait to fuck you.
The boys whispered something over your stream of mewls and your feet were off the ground, your limp body in Rin’s arms. Without a second to spare, he brought you to the main bedroom where the largest bed could fit at least three men.
There, he laid you down, your head dangling off the edge so your mouth was hanging wide open for the next man to defile.
Rin eased himself in between your spread thighs, placing a kiss onto your sternum almost reverently and leaving more pressees on your jaw and cheeks. You felt someone else rustle up towards the other side of the bed, and your eyes met Kunigami’s darkened ones. His towel was shed off, a heap on the floor, and his long, girthy cock throbbed in anticipation over your face.
“Open up for me, pretty girl,” Rensuke murmured, grazing your cheek and then hooking a thumb on your bottom lip to spread you wider. You whined, overstimulated on both ends when you felt both men sink into you at the same time. Rin bottomed out the second Rensuke hit the back of your throat, making you jerk and gag.
The both of them were big—far too big for your smaller body. It was a struggle to take them both and you felt your body reacting to the impossible feat.
“Ssh, ssh,” Rin whispered into your hair. “Relax, baby. You can take us, I know you can.”
With watery eyes, all you could do was mewl, hips bucking pathetically. Rin’s long girth was directly hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and Rensuke was splitting your throat in half. You felt like you could drown in their musk and the thick scent of sex in the air.
Something bitter hit the back of your throat, and you gagged, about to spit Rensuke out when he clamped one hand on your throat, telling you to keep him there if you wanted to know what was good for you.
“Hold me, sweetheart. Hold it,” the large football player murmured. You were sure your entire system was going haywire—your pussy and mind in war to come out at the top of your frazzled emotions.
One of your hands was buried in Rin’s hair, and another was perched on Kunigami’s thigh, trying to ease him down your battered throat.
Without warning, the other man withdrew his thick length from your mouth, splatters of drool dripping down your chin and neck; defiling you even more.
“Fucking hurry it up, Rin,” Kunigami growled, throwing the other striker a murderous look which juxtaposed his usually kind expression jarringly. “I need to cum in her.”
Rin grunted, returning the other striker’s glare with a hostile one of his own. “Shut the fuck up—let me have this with her.” Kunigami stroked himself, trying to keep himself hard as Rin started to jackhammer into your willing cunt.
Your screams of pleasure echoed around the room, contrasting with the other men’s deep growls and groans. It sounded like a smorgasbord of erotic sounds, complemented by the slap of Rin’s balls on your ass.
The youngest man was close on the verge of his orgasm, his face pinched and drawn. You thought he would’ve taken this chance to cum and ignore your pleasure, like Barou did, but you were sorely wrong when it came to Rin. He pressed a thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing it soft and sweet, increasing the pressure when you started to buck and whine into his embrace.
You smelled the sting of his sweat, felt it drip into your open mouth, tainting it with the taste of Kunigami’s precum and his own excitement.
“I’m close,” you sobbed out, arms like vines around his shoulders, nails stabbing into his back. “G’na cum, Rin-Rin—fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
He shook his head, a feral look of pure determined arousal lighting those beautiful features. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess—show the other guys how much you love my cock.”
Your back arched, and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Your thighs tensed around his waist, almost clamping the air out of his lungs from how hard you were clenching around him. The minute ticks, the red lines you left down his back, and your eyes rolling back into your skull arrived at a blinding crescendo.
“Oh! Ugh, Rin—!”
Your first orgasm hit you like a brick wall, steamrolling every thought from your blank mind. Rin’s face fell into the crook of your neck, and his stuttering hips brought forth a fountain of warmth flowing freely into your womb.
You were coasting, high on hormones and pleasure, when he disappeared from your embrace, only to be replaced by another body. Kunigami’s lips on your skin were like warm fluttering butterfly wings, slowly bringing you back to the ground.
“I’m here next, okay, baby?” His tender tone didn’t prepare you for how his cock stretched you out.
“Too big,” you muttered, losing every shred of your composure and shame to hiccup those dirty words. “You’re t-too big.”
“Yeah?” He kissed your tears away. “Aren’t you glad I can stretch you out? Give your sweet body some practice when you have to push out our babies?”
His words ignited a flame right in your lower belly—making you cry out when Rensuke started to slip inside your already overflowing hole. Gushes of white streaked your thighs, the other men’s releases staining the bed underneath you.
As you got used to his slightly wider girth, you didn’t expect Kunigami to roll you on your hands and knees. His cock slid back into your waiting heat, the angle making him feel bigger, and stretching you out even more.
But, it also placed you face to face with the other guys who were eyeing you hungrily—none more so than Reo.
One thick hand wound the hair around the nape of your neck to snap your head up, keeping you firmly in place to watch the lust dancing in their eyes.
“You really should see how fucking sexy you look, baby,” Chigiri hummed, those bright eyes latched onto the spot where you and Kunigami were connected. “We could eat you whole—you fucking little slut.”
“So pretty,” Reo cooed, and Nagi nodded in agreement.
The lilac-haired man got bold enough to stride up to you, perching himself on the edge of the bed where your swinging tits were mesmerising him.
“Raise her up a little bit, Ren.”
Kunigami obeyed Reo’s orders, settling on his haunches and bringing you up with one arm securely snug around your neck. Your tinier hands fluttered to the thick trunk of his forearm as if trying to pry him off, the breath in your lungs knocked out by Rensuke’s headlock.
But, whatever bit of oxygen you managed to inhale from Kunigami’s loosening hold was taken away as Reo leaned forward to kiss and suck your tits. He massaged the neglected one with one hand, his lips busy toying with your right nipple. You watched with bated breath as his tongue caressed the hardening flesh, the firm suction of his lips on the vulnerable flesh sending pangs of pleasure straight to your core.
You cried out, throwing your head back to bump Rensuke’s chin. He grunted, and shifted his arm a bit so he could grasp your neck instead, holding you steady as his cock wrecked you and Reo’s mouth on your tits continued driving you insane.
“She’s drooling,” Nagi drawled, catching their attention.
Every eye zeroed in on your blissed-out face, your mouth parting and a little bit of spit dripping past your chin. Kunigami chuckled, breathless and almost feral when he leaned forward to sloppily make out with you.
The sound of wet lips smacking on each other and a big cock stirring you closer to another orgasm made every man in the room throb—even those who had already come. Every footballer was thinking of the numerous ways he could bend you over and fuck you hard until you squirted all over them; each of their mind’s eye tainted with your sweet moans and even sweeter release.
You gave a short scream, your orgasm catching everyone off guard when you almost folded forward if it wasn’t for Reo catching you. Your body was shuddering like someone had tasered you—a pure scream of pleasure rebounding across the thin walls.
Reo held you as you sobbed, your release triggering Kunigami’s own orgasm. More warmth filled you up and you had lost track of how many men had already came in you; your brain a complete mush with no solid thoughts in it.
Like clockwork, another cock filled you—this time it was Reo’s again—and your mouth was stuffed with someone else's length. You were dragged into a cowgirl position by Reo who let Nagi mount you from the back, both of their lengths taking turns pistoning into your stretched out heat.
“Disgusting,” someone muttered in disdain over the sounds of two men concurrently fucking one woman. Neither of you cared, and you were pulled into a sloppy makeout session with Nagi as Reo continued sucking and licking your already reddened nipples.
Every part of your orifice was swollen, but you still took Chigiri without complaint when it was his turn. You were already like jelly at this point, your entire body sagging on the bed and going numb from the neverending pleasure.
Thankfully, he was quicker, cumming into you within minutes, and kissing you on the forehead afterwards. Your hole was stuffed to the brim with white hot cum, and you thought you couldn’t take anymore until you felt Bachira sliding behind you, hitching your thighs up.
“Hey, Princess,” the golden-eyed menace cooed. “Did you think we would forget about you?”
You felt the bed dip, and Isagi’s face swam in your vision. He came closer to give you a kiss, and his lips felt like a soothing balm on a hot day.
“Yoichi,” you whispered, eyes heavy and body already close to shutting down from exhaustion. “M’so tired.”
“I know, pretty girl, I know,” the dark-haired man whispered. “But, Meguru and I haven’t had our turn with you yet. It would be unfair if we didn't, right?” He gently stroked your cheek, voice saturated with fake sympathy. “You wouldn’t want us to not fuck you after you’ve already taken everyone’s cock, right? You’re not that cruel to deny us, are you, baby?”
“Fucking twisted weirdo,” you heard another person quip. But, you were too far gone to stop the collision of his lips on yours, that skilled mouth drinking away all of your complaints.
As he distracted you, Bachira slipped his thick and veiny cock right into your waiting cunt, his groan low and erotic against your shoulder.
“How’re you still so wet and tight after so many rounds?” He nipped your shoulder in frustration, setting a pace that rutted your body back and forth on the soft sheets. “You’re a fucking nympho, baby—so needy for our cocks.”
“Shut up,” you groaned in between Yoichi’s hot mouth pressing onto yours. You tried to squirm away to get back some of your lost breath, but Isagi refused to let you part from his lips. He chased after you, mouth sealing over yours again and again as you tried to twist your head this way and that.
Strings of spittle clung to both of your chins, and that sick part inside of you which wanted more pushed the voice of common sense in your head out of the way—making you fall head over heels for Yoichi’s mouth on yours. You kissed him back with as much hunger and zeal as your tired body could muster, pushing your boundaries right to the very edge.
Isagi’s ego fed heartily on your submission, greedily taking everything you gave him.
By the end of this sloppy makeout session, your lips were tingling, and Bachira had already come inside of you—getting off to the sight of his best friend and the girl they were sharing stuck in an intimate lip lockdown.
The last man to take you was drawing it out. He took your face in his hands, nudging you free from Bachira’s grasp and rolling you into his arms.
“Out,” Isagi commanded, in a tone that broke no argument. “Leave me and Y/N alone.”
The rest of the guys began to grumble, but one sharp glare from the terrifying striker was enough to quiet everyone down. Indisputably, Yoichi ran the show, and his ego was bigger than any of theirs combined—the lesser knew when to give way to someone who could devour them without regrets.
Everyone turned to leave, and the last one was Rin who hovered by the doorway, unwilling to abandon you to Yoichi’s devices. The other dark-haired man shot his nemesis a frigid stare that could’ve frozen over Hell’s fires.
“Out, Itoshi.”
The younger man countered his superior’s glare with a mutinous one of his own.
“Who’s to say you won’t hurt her?” Rin’s nostrils flared, flickering his gaze to your closed eyes and limp body. “We can’t trust you with her.”
Isagi snorted. “If you want to watch, be my guest. I’ll fuck her so good she’ll forget about you assholes.”
The competition was on, and you were the final prize for these men to win. But, it wasn’t just your body they wanted—each of them fought to secure your womb so it would grow their fruits and give them the family they dreamed of.
You were their greatest treasure, and they would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you were safe—even watching the other men to make sure none of them would hurt you.
Isagi was a packaged dynamite waiting to blow; he was too unpredictable and Rin would hate himself if he pushed you too far or injured you in any shape or form. He planted himself against the wall, arms folded across his chest while those searing teal eyes watched you gasp and preen for Isagi’s attention.
The dark-haired man was playing with your clit, using the dirtiest tactic to rile you up so you would explode in pleasure for him. His mouth was toying with your swollen nipples, and Rin winced when he bit on the tender nub, earning your shriek. It didn’t take a genius to see you were hanging on the tether of your sanity, and with your body already keyed up to the hundreds, your next orgasm was sure to leave you delirious.
Your small hands wound up in his hair, holding him close despite the excruciating pleasure. If Yoichi was the current wrecking you apart, he was also the life buoy you clung on to as your body coasted on the unending pleasure.
“I don’t even need to make you wet, baby,” he breathed right into the shell of your ear, gripping your hips hard. “You’re already so stretched out for me.”
Your breathing caught, a hitched moan echoing around the room when he sank deep into your heat with little to no prep. Isagi kissed you on your lax mouth, and tasted your tears right on his tongue.
“You okay, baby?” He forced your face to his, and your eyes fluttered open. All you could give was a tired nod, and he grinned down at you. “Okay. Are you ready?”
You nodded again, and that was when another person caught your attention. “Rin?”
“M’here,” the other dark-haired striker murmured, his eyes softening with fondness when you smiled at him. “I’ll make sure you get your rest afterwards.”
You hummed, and the idea of knocking off to sleep sounded so good, your eyes had already slipped close.
“Hey—focus on me, sweetheart.”
Isagi’s hand around your neck squeezed down, cutting off your air supply. You gasped and sputtered, eyes rolling wide open. His grin was feral, touched with a hint of insanity. “Good girl. Now, watch me fuck you, sweetheart.”
He pushed your back onto the pillows, and your eyes instantly went to where you both were connected. Isagi’s pretty cock was smeared with your juices and the other men’s cum, the sight alone so filthy it made your cheeks flush.
“‘Ichi,” you hiccuped, going dumb on every stroke of his heavy cock against your velvet walls. “I-I’m close.”
Your pussy fluttered around his length, the overstimulation touching you like a livewire. He rolled his hips into yours, the sloppy sounds of your pussy getting him higher than any risky goal. There was a reason he went last, and it was because he wanted to savour the sounds you were making; the way your pretty eyes went all glassy and hazy just for him.
Isagi loved you so fucking much, he swore he couldn’t breathe when you started to chant his name.
“‘Ichi, ‘Ichi,” you gasped out, twisting in his grip, your back arching. “K-Kiss me, ‘Ichi.”
He obliged you, ignoring the jealous presence waiting right in the wings, waiting for him to fuck up. But, Isagi was gentle with you. He tenderly planted hot, open-mouthed kisses onto your parted lips, drinking in your sweet whines and mewls of desperation. Isagi himself wasn’t in control of his body; that was the effect you had on him.
You drove him crazy with your supple love and beautiful smiles. Everytime you looked at him, it felt like he had been shot right in the chest. Yoichi was so, so crazy for you, and luckily for him, your feelings were the same.
He let Rin get an eyeful of you licking his lower lip, your treacherous side coming to light when you blatantly showed off your preference for the unassuming striker. The other man looked like he was swallowing shards of concrete, his expression twisted in disgust. But, Isagi had already given him an out and Rin didn’t want to take it—he was stuck with the consequences of his actions.
“Yoichi,” you sighed out his name, all stickily sweet in your high-pitched moan. “I love you, ‘Ichi.”
“Yeah?” Isagi grunted, your little confession going straight to his burgeoning ego. “Say it louder, baby. Tell the whole world what you feel for me.”
“I love you,” your gasp of pleasure when he changed the angle of his driving hips fed the monster inside of him. “I love you!”
“Fuck,” Isagi bit down on your neck, leaving behind a mark for the other men to see. Rin’s own marks were on your shoulders and breasts, but Isagi had gone one step further to make his impression on the tender skin between your neck and jaw—right above your pulse point. It was so every beat of your heart echoed with his imprint and every time any of the boys looked at you, they were reminded of who you loved the most.
“‘Ichi,” you gasped out, and your stuttering hips told Isagi you were already close. Your thighs tensed around him, and he fueled your unravelling further by rubbing on your clit with his rough thumb, the action making you jerk and gasp like you had been electrocuted.
“Yoichi… ‘Ichi… Yoichi!” you cried out his name as your body gave one final push—your release slamming into you with the force of a thousand brick walls, dragging you straight into darkness.
You thought you might’ve died in this instance. Your entire body felt too heavy, and you could physically hear every beat of your heart.
Someone was holding you tightly to his chest, his lips peppering gentle kisses on your face. You pried your eyes open after what felt like two hours trying to recollect your bearings, only to find a pair of teal eyes gazing down at you in worry.
“Baby?” Rin’s voice was soft and unintrusive. He let you get used to the bright light of a warm afternoon—watching you stretch yourself and ease your muscles.
“What time is it?” you asked in a thick voice. Staring down your body, someone had cleaned you up and dressed you in Kunigami’s oversize t-shirt and Rin’s boxers. You felt refreshed and well-taken care of, your entire heart swelling eight times its size to fit your love for every man in there.
Rin leaned forward and you caught his face with your shaky palms, caressing those defined cheekbones.
“You slept for almost an hour. Bachira thought you had died.”
You stifled a giggle, tracing your thumbs over the shape of his mouth. Rin let you pull him in for a kiss, and like the worrywart he was, he didn’t deepen it, not wanting to give into the insatiable lust humming in his veins.
If you thought one horny, touch-starved man was a handful, you hadn’t expected the other seven to come through the door and pile up on the bed, each of them clamouring to cuddle you.
You giggled when Nagi tripped over Reo to snuggle up on your left side, only to be stopped by Bachira who literally yanked the taller man out of the way to steal his place. In the end, you took turns cuddling with each man, their deep sigh of relief that things had turned out great and not as weird as they thought, fed right into your relaxed soul.
As sunlight streamed in through the blinds, the outside world may be in an upheaval, but within these four walls, you were as safe as you could be in your favourite football team’s arms.
©️lalunanymph, 2023
#isagi x you#isagi smut#bachira x reader#bachira smut#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin smut#kunigami x reader#kunigami smut#chigiri x reader#chigiri smut#nagi x reader#nagi smut#reo x reader#reo smut#barou x reader#barou smut#blue lock smut#🦢 writes
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Ditto [s. todoroki]
𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 ��𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈
→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.
→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader
→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers
→ word count: 13.1k
→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!
→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻
The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.
It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.
The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.
The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.
“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.
“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.
You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.
As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.
“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.
Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.
“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.
You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.
“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.
“Thank you.”
Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”
You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.
Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.
The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.
The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.
“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”
Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”
Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”
You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.
However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.
“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”
“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.
“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.
Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.
Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.
It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.
Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.
Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.
You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.
“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.
With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.
It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.
You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.
“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.
“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.
The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”
“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.
“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”
The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”
Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.
“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”
You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.
As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.
You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.
By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.
Todoroki may think otherwise.
As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.
He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.
It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.
“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.
“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.
You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.
“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.
Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.
You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.
You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.
“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.
I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.
To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.
The he in question?
Shouto Todoroki.
It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.
You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.
Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.
Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.
“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.
You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.
“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.
The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.
“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.
“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.
“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”
“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”
“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.
“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.
“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.
“These look delicious!”
“Woah, man, they look amazing!”
“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”
You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.
“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.
“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.
You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”
There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.
“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.
“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.
“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”
You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.
“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”
You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.
“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”
You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.
Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.
Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.
“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”
You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.
“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”
“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.
Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”
A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.
As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.
What the hell? you thought.
“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.
“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”
You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.
“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.
“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”
“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”
“What—?”
“Mina, why—?”
Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.
“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.
“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.
You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.
After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.
“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.
“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.
Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”
You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.
Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.
“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.
It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.
I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.
“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.
“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.
“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.
Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.
One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”
Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.
“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.
“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.
“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”
“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.
“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.
Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”
Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.
“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.
The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.
“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.
“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”
“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.
Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.
Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”
Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”
“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.
“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.
“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.
The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.
As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.
Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.
The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.
“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.
“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.
“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.
“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”
“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.
“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.
The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.
“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.
“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.
“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.
“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.
“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”
“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”
“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.
“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”
Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”
“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”
You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.
“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.
“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.
“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”
“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”
You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.
Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.
“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.
You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”
You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”
You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.
The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.
Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.
You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.
Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.
The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.
“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”
You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.
“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”
You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.
“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”
Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”
“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”
Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.
“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”
You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”
“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”
You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”
“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”
You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”
“Shouto,” he corrected.
You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”
“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”
You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”
The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.
“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.
His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.
“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”
You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.
“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”
She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”
“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”
The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”
You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.
The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.
“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”
“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”
His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”
He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.
Your breath caught at what you saw.
His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.
“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”
His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.
“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”
You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”
Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.
The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.
It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.
For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.
You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.
“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”
Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”
You had no retort for that.
As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.
You weren’t any better, though.
If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.
Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
3 months later . . .
“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.
“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.
“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”
“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.
“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.
You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”
The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”
Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.
You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.
“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.
You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.
“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.
Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”
“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”
“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”
“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.
Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”
You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”
You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”
“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, she does.”
“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.
“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.
“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”
The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.
“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”
“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.
“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.
“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.
Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”
“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.
“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.
“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”
You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”
“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”
“The early morning runs,” Asui added.
“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”
Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”
You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.
The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”
You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.
“Definitely.”
“For sure.”
“We could see it from a mile away.”
You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”
“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”
“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”
You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.
“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”
“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”
“What?!”
“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”
You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”
“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”
“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”
“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”
“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.
You understood immediately. “Oh.”
“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”
“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”
You nodded. “You have a point.”
“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.
“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.
“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.
“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”
You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”
The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.
You were screwed.
“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”
The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.
“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”
“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”
“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”
“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”
As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.
Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.
Until one day . . .
You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.
“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”
“Are you seriously sayin—?”
A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”
You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”
All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.
As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.
“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.
“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.
You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.
“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.
“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”
Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.
“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?
“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.
“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.
“I like him a little.”
“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”
“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”
Oooohhhhh.
Fuck.
Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—
“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.
FUCK!
“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”
Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”
Oh God, how much did he overhear?
“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”
You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.
“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.
Oh great, he’s annoyed!
“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”
“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”
“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”
“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.
“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”
You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”
Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”
“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.
There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.
He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.
Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.
“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.
“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”
What.
“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.
Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”
You blinked some more. “What?”
“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.
What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.
The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.
“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”
WHAT!?
“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—
No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.
“I do,” he confirmed.
“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”
Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.
“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”
He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”
You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.
“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.
You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.
The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.
“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.
“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.
“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.
“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.
“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.
Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”
The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.
“I’LL END YOU!”
Fin.
→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag
No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.
#shouto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki shouto x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#bnha x reader#shouto x reader#shoto x reader#fic: ditto#todoroki x you#shoto x you#shouto x you
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Closer
you thought that you were already close with patrick and art; turns out, you could get even closer.
Boardingschool!patrick & boardingschool!art x boardingschool!reader.
it’s no secret that the three of you were close.
Everyone at school acknowledges it by joking that you’re practically their manager, because you’re on the bleachers at every practice, seated front row at every match, and the second the match finishes, the first person they go running to is you.
in fact, you're all so close that you've developed a habit to follow them into the locker room after every practice. if anyone ever questioned your entry into the room, they’d both chime at the same time: “she’s ours.”
neither of them bat an eye when you sit down on the bench between the metal lockers and watch them get changed because it’s you, their little manager, and they didn’t ever hide anything from you.
You’d read them the daily school news, explain the daily school gossip, and update them on any homework they missed in the name of tennis practice. they’d thank you in their typical ways by ruffling your hair and throwing their sweaty shirts on you before sandwiching you in a suffocating hug.
You shriek and laugh and say, ‘stop it!’ but really, you’re too focused on the feel of their bare chests against you— slippery from sweat and hot from the heat— to care about anything else.
There’s always a brief moment after all the amusement when the laughter dissipates and you’re all just staring at each other. Your smile fades, and suddenly you’re painfully aware of their rapid breaths rising against you on either side, and the heat of it all fills the silent air with something else other than just audible breaths.
Today it’s patrick who looks over to art first, who returns his stare with pressed lips. you catch a flicker of something in their eyes, but they looked away before you could decipher it. However, it was clear that a silent agreement had been reached right in front of you. you suspect that for the first time since you transferred to the school, they were hiding something from you.
patrick breaks the silence first, turning slightly away from you to gently close his locker as he murmurs, “you know, there have been a lot of rumours on campus lately.”
You scoffed, stuffing your agenda into your bag before smoothing a hand over your hair. “Really? What kind of rumours?”
Patrick shrugged. He pulled a shirt over his shoulders, nodding his head towards art. “Rumours about us, mostly. Tell her, art.”
art purses his lips multiple rimes before speaking. “It’s just trash talk,” he pauses. patrick glances over to him one more time, flashing him a subtle glare before art finally continues, “there's talk about how the three of us are suspiciously close, or whatever.”
“I guess it’s not so much a rumour as it is true,” you responded. You tilted your head towards them both, eyes squinting with humour as you questioned, “you guys do consider us close, right? I mean, after all I do for you guys, I’m honestly glad that people are speculating and starting to appreciate my efforts.”
“It’s just,” Patrick turns back around, shuffling his feet to sit down across from you on the bench with legs on either side of the wooden plank. His hands are gathered in the middle, fingers attempting to itch closer and closer to your own without you seeing.
“We could be a lot closer, you know.”
You raised an eyebrow at Patrick’s sneaky hands, a slight smile still intact on your face as you asked, “How close can we get, pat? There’s a limit to everything. Even the sky.”
“he’s right.”
You almost jump at the sudden voice you hear in your ear. you cleared your throat as he slid closer towards your back. Art mirrored Patrick’s movements with legs on either side of the bench, but his hands fiddled with the edge of your hoodie as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“We could be a lot closer.”
You observed the way art pressed his lips together, snuggling his face into the side of your neck as Patrick’s thumb rubbed circles on your hand. you hadn’t even registered that patrick was now grinning, guilding your unsuspecting hand towards his dark curls.
You instinctively wrap your fingers around his wet hair, and you almost gasp when you hear patrick whimper. He pants heavily against your wrist, lips tickling the tender skin as he breathes, “why don’t you come over to our dorm after class?”
You shake your head, dropping your hand from his head. “I don’t think-“
“Please,” art whispers against your neck.
You close your eyes, sucking on the inside of your cheek as you sighed deeply. For a beat, you simply listen to the sound of their synced breathing, taking in the familiar smell of the locker room, and the familiar smell of them. When you open your eyes again, Patrick and art are both eagerly staring at you, pleading with silence.
You suddenly laugh, smiling uncontrollably as you lean back against art and pull patrick closer by the hand that is still wrapped around yours. patrick gladly scooches closer until his nose is practically rubbing against yours, and he returns your laughter with a chuckle of his own.
“Okay,” you mutter while glancing back at art, whose mouth was agape with something adjacent to shock.
“so let’s get closer.”
-
a/n: “why don’t u come over to our-“ bags r packed.
#wyniepooh#challengers#challengers 2024#challengers fanfiction#challengers fic#challengers x reader#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig x you#challengers fanfic#art donaldson#art x reader#art x you#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson smut#patrick zweig fanfiction#patrick zweig fic#patrick zweig imagine#patrick zweig smut#challengers patrick#challengers smut#josh o’connor challengers#challengers film#challengers movie#challengers art donaldson#art donaldson fanfic#art donaldson fic#art donaldson imagine
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one of those masterposts for Sudan 🇸🇩
Disclaimer: I am not Sudanese, and am in no way an expert on the ongoing crisis. Corrections, if any, are welcome.
LAST UPDATED: 8th October 2024 [Please try to reblog the original post as much as possible]
~
So what's going on in Sudan? Sudan was under the rule of the military dictator Omar Al-Bashir for thirty years. He came to power through a military coup in June 1989. His rule saw extreme economic decline, repression, and conflict. In the December of 2018, a democratic revolution began that eventually overthrew the dictatorship on April 11, 2019, and saw the beginning of a military rule by militant parties SAF (Sudanese Armed Forces) and RSF (Rapid Support Forces). This unrest is, of course, funded by western governments.
On the 15th of April, 2023, fighting broke out in Khartoum between the SAF and RSF. Clashes spread across the nation of Sudan, and the civilian populace is still caught in the middle. According to UN officials, Sudan is in “one of the worst humanitarian nightmares in recent history."
There is an ongoing war in Sudan, and it's getting worse. There is a health crisis along with the humanitarian crisis as well: around 2/3rds of the population do not have access to healthcare services. Around 15-20 millions suffer from hunger. There are 70 non-operational healthcare facilities in conflict zones. Thousands killed, millions displaced, and a dramatic increase in sexual violence and rape cases.
~
Links for Learning Resources:
Hadhreen: Hadhreen started as an initiative by a small group of Sudanese youth in 2015. Since its inception it continued to work in a variety of sectors, most notably Emergency response, health, and in supporting vulnerable groups.
Talk About Sudan: Learn more about what's happening in Sudan and actions you can take. Also has donation links for those who are able.
Keep Eyes On Sudan: A website run by Sudanese diaspora to amplify the calls of the Sudanese people. Has donation links, actions you can take, upcoming protests and events, resources, FAQs, etc.
#SudanSyllabus.docx: An extensive and well-sourced document, providing English language resources about Sudanese history. It's really long and has got lots of links to books, articles, and more. Curated by Razan Idris.
Human Rights Watch
~
Donation Links:
List of verified charities providing humanitiarian assistance in Sudan
SudanFunds: Like GazaFunds, it is a compilation of GoFundMes for Sudanese individuals in war zones in need of help.
Help Sudan Tarada Initiative: The aim is to deliver emergency basic needs, food and medicine. Funds will be transferred directly to local charities and organization who are managing those shelters to make sure that the funds are well received and is spent on the needs specified.
One Million Sustainable Pads Campaign: Fundraiser to help provide women in IDPs camps with reusable pads
Zubeyda Adam and family (Sudan)
Our home bombarded and destroyed
Help my family escape Sudan's war
Save a transperson in african Refugee camp from starvation [Unsure about the legibility of this one since its not from the person themself, but if someone can verify this for me that would be great]
Hope For Sudan
Darfur Women Action
Doctors Without Borders
Fill A Heart: Financial Assistance to Sudanese Hospitals
Hometax: Sudan Relief
Cairo Sudan Aid
Amal For Women
Sudan Solidarity Collective
Sadagaat
UNICEF
~
These are all the links I have so far. Please spread awareness about Sudan! Let me know if there are any links I should add to the post and I will update it.
#lamp.txt#free sudan#eyes on sudan#sudan#keep eyes on sudan#sudan crisis#sudan genocide#hall of fame
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Bombshell reader is my queen. What would happen if she like got hold hostage or something? She’s usually so confident, I’m sure going thru that would rough her up. Would Spencer take up the more ‘active’ role and take care of her
tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k
Spencer doesn't know if you're aiming for him when you come out but he grabs you as soon as he can get his hands on you. You were running hard enough to wind him, breathless yourself as you gasp into his shoulder. He can't feel you right wearing the FBI vest, desperate to take it off.
You won't let him go.
It must've been bad inside to panic you like this. "Are you okay?" he asks, forcing you away to check you over. "Do you need medical?" He's mildly hysterical.
"No," you say, eyes closed, shaking your head until he lets you back into his arms. "I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine–"
"Spencer, I'm fine."
Spencer can't remember the last time you called him Spencer. He's used to Spence, babe, baby, handsome. He's even used to your hand on his elbow to say hello without speaking. So no matter what you say, he knows you're not fine.
Spencer leads you over to the back of an ambulance, where you glare at him. You've definitely never done that before.
"I don't need medical–"
"You have to get checked out." He's definitely never spoken to you like that. Terse, his hands on your arms to stop you from getting up. "Non-negotiable."
Your eyes shine with betrayal while the EMTs check your vitals. You have a bruise like whiplash against your neck that's tender to the touch, wincing as they prod it with their white gloved fingers. You're acting peculiarly but not outside of the realm of reasonable.
A car backfires somewhere in the street and you flinch. "Spence," you say, looking up at him through your lashes, "can we go?"
He waits for a nod. "Yeah, we can go."
The issue is that you can't stand. You push up, you blink, and you sit down hard again, making a small pained sound from the back of your throat that Spencer cant abide by. "What's wrong with her?" he asks.
"Adrenaline." The EMT squeezes your shoulder affectionately. "You're alright, hun. You can sit here until you feel ready."
She and her partner take a break in the front of the ambulance and tell you to shout if you need help. Spencer hesitates for a few seconds, looking down at you with a quick assessment of behaviour. He finds the things that are wrong with you —shaking hands, painful contusion against your throat, obvious emotional distress, weak legs— and he runs through options on how he's going to help you.
Spencer takes your hands into his, just a little smaller, less skinny, and way softer. He doesn't know whether he can truly smell your hand cream or if he knows the scent from the hundreds of times watching your routine. You take it from the pocket in your purse, squeeze the smallest bit from the tub, and rub it in slow circles around your palms. It calms you in your rare wounded moments, and Spencer imitates that now. He draws gentle circles into your skin, the tremble ever so slightly quelled.
"Is it bad?" he asks you, transferring both of your hands into one. Freed, he trails the knuckles of his left hand parallel to your wicked bruise.
"It hurts." Your eyes are glassy, your lips in a downturn that turns his heart. "Hurt my ego."
"He got a cheap shot," Spencer says sympathetically, dipping forward to kiss your jaw just above the bruise. You go still. He worries it was the wrong thing to do, but you crane your head forward into his chest.
Your tired sigh is like a rake.
"It's okay. It's okay." He takes your hand again. "We'll ice it at the hotel. With arnica, it'll be gone in a week."
"I was really scared," you murmur.
Sitting as you are in the back of the ambulance, he doesn't have to bend much to press your joined hands to his chest. Eyes shut, that close to one another, Spencer swears he can hear your rapid heart.
"But you made it out. You're always going to make it out, because we have a great team and you're good at what you do. You're strong. Smart. And you're brave, because you got scared and you kept going anyway. You saved someone just now."
You push him away without malice, your perfect eyebrows pinched up at the starts. "I thought maybe this time I wouldn't make it out. Not like me, huh?"
Spencer sits next to you in the ambulance, sliding his fingers into yours with more confidence than he feels. "That's easily explainable. Do you know what working memory is?"
Your stress melds fond. "No."
"Working memory is one of the brain's systems necessary for thought and function. It's important for everything. And when you're under immense pressure, the strength of your working memory depletes– being in a high stakes situation like that, it's natural to choke. It doesn't mean you underperformed. It doesn't mean you let anyone down."
"I never said I let someone down."
"I worried you were thinking about it."
"I was." Your glassy eyes have clarified. Spencer lets out a breath of relief as you raise your hand to his cheek, stroking it briefly with the back of your fingers. "I'm glad you think that, but I doubt Hotch will say the same thing."
"Hotch will tell you well done and make you take mandatory leave for a week. We should regroup with the others." Spencer nudges you in the arm. "I'll write your paperwork if you tell me what to say."
You drop your face into his shoulder. "I'm recovering from a traumatic event. Can't you do the muscle work?"
"Y/N!" Hotch calls, a phone glued to his ear. "Well done. Nothing else tonight." You smile. "You can do the paperwork when you get back next week."
"Ugh."
"Told you. Well done, mandatory leave," Spencer says.
"Excessive," you mutter into his arm. It takes you a few seconds to warm up, and when you do it's like groundhog day, sunshine filtering through the chill, "Thanks, handsome. For everything."
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