Learning To Belong ~ Poly!MHA X Fem!Reader (01)

Love your writing pretty

keep up the good work💗

Thank you so much for your support! I’ll use this ask to tell y’all that, yes, I am a lazy bitch, guilty as charged. But I just finished Chapter 11!

I even have a title for it: "An Empty Seat at the Table."

I just need to post it on Tumblr, add the tags, update my taglist, and write my author’s note at the end.

I tried something new with this chapter, and it’s longer than usual, around 2.5k words, I think. By the way, does anyone knows if it’s possible to save your tags so you don’t have to manually add them every time you post something ?

Anyways, this time I am serious, so dead ass serious. Learning to Belong chapter 11 is coming out in less than 24 hours.

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (07)

Don’t think I forgot about the chapter! I took an unplanned nap earlier, but I still made it (from where I am, it’s still five minutes before midnight, so technically, it’s still Monday)! This chapter was tough to write and edit (tough is an understatement 😭), but here we are! I think as I’m trying to write longer chapters, they’re becoming significantly more work (especially when I try to do it all at once). Hope you enjoy this one too!

Warning: cursing

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

06 <- 07 -> 08

Masterlist

Taglist —> if you want to be tag

When Todoroki arrived at the hospital, he paused at the entrance, his gaze fixed on the bouquet of dahlias in his hand. The vibrant petals stood out sharply against the sterile white surroundings of the building, and for a moment, doubt crept in. Was this a mistake? Should he have stayed home? Couldn't he have just sent an apology email or made a call instead? Why was he here, standing in front of these doors? Doubts filled him, but just as quickly as they appeared, they were pushed aside. Something about this moment—about seeing you and apologizing face-to-face—pulled at him in a way he couldn’t explain. It felt necessary, like a weight he couldn’t ignore. The urge to make things right, to apologize properly, tangled with an unclear mess of emotions, stronger than his uncertainty. The thought of seeing you again was both tempting and terrifying, and he couldn’t quite understand why.

With a deep breath, he steadied himself, taking one last look at the bouquet before stepping forward. His body seemed to move almost on its own, urging him forward as if it knew better than his mind. It felt pointless to resist, and he hated not fully understanding himself. Usually, everything was clear and simple, but now, the confusion, the unknown, and the awkwardness destabilized him.

Clutching the bouquet like a shield, Todoroki walked through the unfamiliar halls. Nurses and staff gave him curious glances—heroes usually arrived with an ambulance, not alone—but he ignored their stares as he normally did when he was in public. His focus was solely inward; his heart was racing, fast, too different from its usual calm beat. As he tried to compose himself, he knew this wasn’t just nervousness; it was something else, something hard to name. Todoroki could barely distinguish it, buried under so many feelings and the he closer he got to the hero wing, the more intense the feeling became. He was painfully aware of how each steps made his pulse race, and him self-conscious of his heart pumping loudly in his chest and ears.

When he reached the front desk, he paused for a moment, swallowing, preparing himself and trying to stay composed, as the receptionist looked up at him, briefly eyeing the bouquet before offering a polite, practiced smile.

"Good morning, how may I help you?"

"Good morning," Todoroki replied, his voice quieter than usual, and he mentally shook off his awkwardness before continuing. "I was here a few days ago, and… I was wondering if it would be possible to see the doctor who was in charge of my care during my hospitalization."

The receptionist’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as he typed. After a few seconds, he turned his attention back to Todoroki. "Of course. If you have questions about your treatment or would like a follow-up consultation, Dr. Hasegawa would be happy to schedule an appointment with you."

Todoroki nodded absentmindedly, but his thoughts had already wandered. Dr. Hasegawa... So that was your name. It floated in his mind: Dr. Hasegawa, I’m sorry for my behavior, he thought, trying to figure out what he would say when he faced you. I apologize for acting so inappropriately. Please let me make it up to you... maybe I could buy you a coffee after work?, but he immediately dismissed the thought.

Todoroki barely noticed how tightly he had been gripping the bouquet, the delicate stems pressing into his fingers, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He was still lost in his thoughts, and he couldn’t understand why he felt so anxious, on top of that, now the flowers seemed like such a strange gesture. When was the last time he’d bought flowers for anyone who wasn’t his mother? He couldn’t even remember. Maybe for Bakugo? That one time? Giving you flowers seemed more and more odd with each passing second, but he knew he couldn’t just throw them away now. A small part of him was still wondering if the flowers colors would truly match your eyes, as he had imagined back in the flower shop.

This was supposed to be a quick visit, just to apology to you. He was only here to make amends—no need for coffee or flowers, no need for anything beyond that. And yet, there he was, dahlias in hands, and feeling a flutter of anticipation building in his chest, an unexplained excitement buzzing through him.

“He’s currently in a consultation but should be available to meet with you in about twenty to thirty minutes. Will that be alright?”

Todoroki blinked, startled. He? There was no he.

“My doctor was a woman,” he said slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

The receptionist looked equally confused by his words, and he checked his computer before replying. "No, the doctor who treated you was Dr. Haruto Hasegawa, and he’s definitely a man."

There was now way he could have been wrong, he was sure of it and in his memory of the moment, although blurry , he could still clearly remember you: your eyes, your hair, the curve of your lips, your hands—everything about you had looked so pretty in his eyes. He was certain it was a woman who clung to his mind, like a shadow he longed to fade with time.

“There must be some mistake,” he said, sure of himself. “A doctor came to check on me in the afternoon and I saw her, it wasn’t a man.”

“In the afternoon?” The receptionist frowned, his tone taking on a slightly exasperated edge. “It says here that Dr. Hasegawa treated you in the morning, and he was in surgery all afternoon.” His gaze flicked back to Todoroki, the growing impatience evident. “Doctors don’t usually handle post-treatment checkups unless it’s an exception.”

This just didn’t make sense to Todoroki and as he opened his mouth to argue further, the receptionist’s expression shifted. His eyes lit up, as though he’d just pieced together a puzzle.

“Wait a second,” he said, fingers flying across the keyboard once again. “It was probably Nurse Asuna Shimizu. The nurses handle most of the checkups after treatments, and according to your file, she was assigned to you during your stay.”

For a moment, Todoroki faltered. He had been so sure it was a woman—but whether you were a doctor or a nurse? He wasn’t certain anymore. Now, he wondered if he’d completely missed the pastel pink of your hospital scrubs. After all, he hadn’t exactly been focused on your uniform that day—his attention had been caught by... well, everything else about you. You were a vivid image against the foggy backdrop of his memory.

“I guess you’re right. I might’ve been mistaken,” he admitted reluctantly, though uncertainty lingered in his voice. “Would it still be possible to see her?”

“Of course,” the receptionist replied smoothly. “I’ll call her now, she should be in the break room, so it won’t take too long.”

As the receptionist made the phone call, “An ex-patient wants to see you again, probably about his treatment I don’t know. It’s a pro hero.” Todoroki stood there awkwardly and stiffly.

The unfamiliar ticking of anxiety crawled through his veins, unraveling his nerves with every heartbeat. His held his breath every time he heard footsteps approaching from behind, and he fought the urge to whip his head around, afraid of appearing too eager or worse, desperate.

The wait stretched on endlessly, and he stared blankly at the sterile hospital walls as he tried to keep his thoughts from spiraling. His palms felt clammy, and his throat dried out despite his repeated attempts to swallow. The stems of the dahlias, crushed and fragile beneath his restless fingers, bore the burden of his agitation and he prayed silently that his jittery state wasn’t so visible to anyone nearby. When the receptionist finally spoke again, Todoroki felt the ground shift beneath him.

“Oh, Asuna, you’re here. Here is the patient who wanted to meet with you.”

Todoroki froze. The wave of emotions that had been brewing all day—restlessness, anticipation, and fear—crashed over him all at once as his breath hitched. This is it, he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Slowly, he turned around, as though he was bracing himself for the sight of you while the memory of your sweet peach scent tugged at him like a siren’s call, and demanded him to turn faster.

Todoroki’s heart sank at the sight of the nurse. The woman who approached wasn’t you; her hair, eyes, height, and face bore no resemblance to the seared image of you that he held in his mind. But the most glaring difference, the one that sealed it instantly, was her scent.

Scents were undeniable markers of identity—a fact anyone with a decent nose understood. It wasn’t usually a big deal; people were described as “the omega with the citrusy scent” or “the Alpha who smells like coffee beans,” just as casually as someone’s hair color or complexion might be noted. But your scent had been different. He wasn’t sure if it was his premature heat that made him more sensitive, but it had struck him like a physical blow, enveloping him completely and commanding his attention in a way he hadn’t been able to shake since.

The soft lavender and floral notes emanating from Nurse Shimizu weren’t unpleasant, sure, but they didn’t come close to the syrupy sweetness of peaches that had lingered around you. That scent—your scent—felt addictive, disorienting in its intensity, and it had burned itself into his mind more than he liked to admit. Whoever Asuna Shimizu was supposed to be, her scent clearly told him she was not you and definitely not an alpha too. Nothing about it poked and tease his omega like yours had.

Todoroki’s stomach twisted with a bitter ache. He felt foolish for expecting anything different. Maybe you were purposely avoiding him, and who could blame you? He had acted so shamefully during his heat, basically threw himself at you, and let his instincts overshadow his judgment. His mate's breaking your face had only made things horrifically worse. He was so focused on seeing you again that he forgot how serious the situation was and the guilt he felt soared from this realization, which only made him feel even more disappointed in himself. He had been acting so strangely over the past few days, wondering about trivial, selfish and superficial matters instead of how his actions impacted you. He know from experience how a punch from Kirishima could knocked you down and how disgusting unwanted sexual advances felt.

"Nurse Shimizu," Todoroki began, after he approached her maintained respectful distance. "I understand if your colleague doesn’t want to see me again. My mate and I behaved inexcusably, and I want to offer my sincere apologies. Please let her know she can contact my agency if she wishes to seek any form of compensation." He said, serious, measured and polite as possible, wanting to cause any further trouble for you or, what he assumed, your nurse friend.

It took Asuna a moment to piece everything together, before realization flashed through her eyes and she stepped closer to Todoroki, lowering her voice so only he could hear.

“When were you hospitalized?” she asked, her suspicions growing clearer after his response. Her fingers anxiously tugged at the edge of her sleeve as she pressed on, her tone tinged with nervousness. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Dr. L/n, but... is there any chance we can keep the hospital out of this? I know I shouldn’t have asked her to cover for me, but... whatever happened could be sorted out privately, right?” She let out an awkward laugh, clearly unaware of the incident between the pro hero and you, and her focus instead on ensuring her little escape from work remained unnoticed. Her eyes flickered around the room to check no one could over hear her little confession before they landed on the bouquet in Todoroki’s hands, a spark of curiosity breaking through her tension.

“Are those... flowers?” she asked, her voice a little lighter, in a terrible attempt at shifting the topic after the lack of response from Todoroki.

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Yes. Could you give them to her? As an apolo—"

Before he could finish, the nurse interrupted him. "She left early that day and hasn’t been back since. But I could tell her you want to see her when she is back ?” She offered.

The words hit Todoroki like a brick. You weren’t here. You hadn’t been here for three days, and it was undeniable—he was the reason for your absence. He had spent so much time thinking about you since arriving at the hospital, yet the truth slammed into him again: his thoughts had been filled with peaches, warmth, and beauty, while the reality was far darker. He couldn't escape the image of your tears, the memory of his unrelenting grip on your wrist as you tried to leave, the sickening sound of Kirishima’s fist connecting with his face, and the heavy, metallic scent of your blood staining the hospital’s sterile white floor. Now, all he could see was the wreckage he had caused you, and the painful realization that perhaps the only apology he truly needed to offer was leaving you alone.

Don’t tell me you thought it would be that easy. The reader is over there thinking her life is over, and you think she’s just going to go back to work?

Todoroki is a mess in this chapter, blushing and acting bashful like a high schooler with his first crush (this will make sense later). But, I didn’t want to downplay what happened to the reader too much. Todoroki should at least be aware of the consequences of his actions. I thought ending on a serious note would provide a nice contrast to the silly ending of the previous chapter. God I hope I didn’t write myself in a corner but I think I’ll make it work.

I think we’ve seen enough of Todoroki for now—next chapter will focus on Izuku! I know Todoroki may seem like my favorite character in this fic since, aside from the reader, he’s had the most POV chapters (probably more than the reader), but surprisingly, he’s not actually my favorite from the group. Don’t worry, though. I’m not playing favorites in thisbdix. Everyone will get their fair share of attention and dedicated chapters. We’re just starting off with a lot of Todoroki.

2,2k words, the chapter is extra long as an apology to the wait. Oh yeah, I am still waiting on the polls results but I’ll be honest, I maybe just decide for something else.

As always, criticisms are welcome.

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

06 <- 07 -> 08

My apologies if I forgot anyone in the taglist. This taglist is lowkey getting out of hand 😭

-> If you want to tag in the next update, check out the taglist post !

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @bluepatrolbear ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden

Rest of the taglist:

@mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden ; @fto6 ; @hanniesroom ; @readeryn68 ; @queenofsimps001 ; @mai1em ; @demonzgutzz ; @sleepy-x-snake ; @xxang3|zz ; @decadentcrusadefun ; @shhhstar ; @n3ptOnee ; @nxcx|Ixsevens ; @mailem ; @aslos ; @thatone-gayweeb ; @eveylynnn ; @nervoussangel ; @inakyo ; @graythecoffeebean ; @ninabinna ; @3thr3al ; @barrythestrawberry041 ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @primary-022 ; @prettyprojectshq ; @bluepatrolbear ; @literallyjustmyself23 ; @p3n310p3 ; @slayerdiva ; @hw-shorty ; @quixoticcat ; @fluffypuffyfishyswishy ; @thepocgoat ; @heylolmeow ; @00asworld ; @kienhawon ; @acotarshdowandbone ; @barrythestrawberry041 ; @11sp4des ; @maliamaiden ; @puppyminnnie ; @katbug37 ; @the-fandom-ness ; @dabisstapledonballsack ; @ninabinna ; @graythecoffeebean ; @primary-022 ; @nervoussangel ; @p3n310p3

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (11)

Remember when I said chapter 11 will be out next weekend, one month ago ? I am a liar, but you guys have to forgive me.

Warning: cursing (?)

Tags: Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Pack! X fem!Reader ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; smut eventually ; fem!Reader ; afab!Reader

The routine settled over the pack. Bakugo’s gaze was still locked on Todoroki, a quiet blaze simmering behind his crimson eyes. His nostrils flared as he exhaled sharply through his nose, muttering a curse under his breath. Then he turned on his heel and stomped toward the kitchen while the floor creaked under the weight of his steps. Only then did Izuku realize he’d been holding his breath. He hadn’t known what to expect, an explosion, maybe. A barked insult. A demand, raw and unfiltered, tearing through the tension like Bakugo always did. His blonde mate had come dangerously close to snapping more than once in the past few days. Izuku had seen the storm brewing behind his eyes, but he understood. Bakugo wasn’t just angry. He missed him. They all did.

It had been less than a month since the incident, but it felt like an eternity since Todoroki had really looked any of them in the eyes. Since their fingers found each other in the quiet, without needing words. Sometimes they didn’t speak at all. Just sat like that, fingers laced, listening to the distant sounds of life moving around them. And every time Todoroki’s thumb rubbed small, absent circles into Izuku’s palm, it made something bloom behind his ribs. Gentle, deep and steady. He missed that. He missed the way Todoroki’s smile started small, barely a twitch of the lips, and then slowly bloomed. He missed his mate’s scent too. Even that had changed.

It used to be crisp, like the first bite of winter wind. Sweet golden honey layered over frostbitten berries. Now, it clung to the corners of the room in an unfamiliar way. Weakened. Clouded and Muddied. The sweetness had gone stale, eaten away by something bitter and wrong.

Despite being lost in his reminiscence and thoughts, Izuku caught movement from the corner of his eye. Kirishima was hovering near Todoroki. He stood there for a moment, then, gently, he stepped forward and hesitantly, he reached out, offering a gentle pat to Todoroki’s shoulder, with an expression armed with an encouraging smile. It wasn’t much. The touch was clumsy, uncertain and somewhat awkward. But it was kind, it was sweet, simple, and Izuku felt his chest warmed at the sight of it.

Though, Todoroki didn’t react, didn’t lean in the touch. The hand on his shoulder might as well have belonged to a ghost. Kirishima’s hopeful smile faltered, his brows pinched slightly dejected by the quiet rejection as he withdrew his hand. Not with anger or frustration, just defeat. He lingered a second longer in the room, then pulled his hand back and walked away, retreating quietly to his room.

Almost an hour later, Izuku was still staring blankly at the corner of the coffee table when Bakugo’s voice cut through the apartment.

“Dinner’s on the damn table!” Bakugo yelled from the kitchen.

Izuku moved without thinking to the dinner table, guided by habit more than appetite. He slipped into his usual seat at the table, and a moment later, Kirishima walked in, dragging his feet and sat without a word. But no sign of Todoroki coming.

Bakugo waited exactly thirty seconds before gritting out, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Sandals thudded against the hallway floor as he left the dinner table. A few seconds passed. Then the sound of footsteps again, two sets. Bakugo returned with Todoroki in tow, gripping his wrist in a firm hold. He dragged him to the table and sat him down in a chair, and shoved the waiting plate in front of him with a hard clatter.

“Eat,” he snapped. His gaze said the rest: Don’t you dare fucking leave.

Dinner didn’t get any better after this small « commotion ». It was stir-fried beef and vegetables over rice. Nothing fancy. The kind of meal Bakugo threw together on autopilot. It smelled good and tasted even better, savory, filling, beef and vegetables coated with a delicious garlic soy sauce, but the tension hanging over the table turned every bite into a lump down Izuku’s throat, even more when he noticed that Todoroki only picked at his plate.

Eventually, and thankfully, a part of him thought, plates ended up emptied. Except for Todoroki’s, which still looked mostly untouched. Bakugo loudly put down his chopsticks, and stood suddenly, scraping his chair back with a screech. He picked up his plate and everyone’s but Todoroki, and put them in the kitchen sink.

« I’ll do the dish kacchan. » Izuku said as he got up of his chair but he was stopped in his tracks.

« Sit your ass down Deku. » Bakugo responded without looking back.

Quickly the sound of water and clattering plates filled the silence around them, no one at the table moved. Todoroki was looking blankly at the wall, still distant and cold while his food was also turning cold. Izuku didn’t dare move after Bakugo told him to sit down, and Kirishima was just sitting there, arm crossed, lost in his thoughts. The moment was broken when after a couple of minutes, Bakugo spoke up again.

“I’m done. We’re going out. »

Izuku blinked. “Wait—what? Out? Where? Right now?”

“You heard me,” Bakugo replied. “Get your gym stuff. You too, shitty hair.”

Kirishima hesitated. “I don’t really feel like going out, man.”

“I wasn’t asking.” Bakugo’s voice didn’t rise, but it hardened. “Grab your bag. We’re going.”

Izuku stood slowly, brow furrowed. “Are we training? Or—”

“Stop asking questions, Deku. Just go get your stuff »

Bakugo turned back toward the table, eyes locking on Todoroki.

“What about you?”

His tone shifted. Still hard, but undercut with something else. Not quite hope, but expectation. A challenge he didn’t expect to be met. Daring Todoroki to give a different answer than the one they all expected him to give. But his icy hot mate didn’t even lift his head as he replied.

“You guys go ahead,” he murmured. “I’m too tired.”

A pause followed. Bakugo stared for a beat, his jaw clenched tight, then he scoffed and turned away, before walking out of the dinner room.

Izuku crouched beside Todoroki, speaking softly. “Eat a little more, okay?” he said, brushing a kiss to his cheek. “And try to rest. I’ll check on you when we get back.”

Todoroki only offered the smallest nod as a response, then Izuku rosed to his feet and went in his bed room . His gym bag was already packed and waiting by the door.m so he just slung it over his shoulder and returned to the front door, where the others were getting ready.

Gymn bags by their sides, Bakugo shoved his shoes on while Kirishima, by his side moved slower with his head down and tugged his hoodie over his hair before crouching to tie his laces. Izuku followed their lead and put his own shoes own.

The three stepped out into the cool hallway, and the door clicked shut behind them.

A sharp chill clung to the night air as the pack, minus one, headed to the car. Bakugo climbed into the driver’s seat without a word, slamming the door hard enough to make the whole frame rattle. Izuku barely had his seatbelt on before the car lurched forward, tires squealing slightly against the pavement.

Katsuki’s grip on the wheel was white-knuckled, his jaw clenched tight as he glared straight ahead. Every time they hit a red light, his fingers tapped out a sharp, impatient rhythm, punctuated by low curses muttered under his breath. The tension radiating off of him was suffocating.

Kirishima sat silently in the backseat, hunched toward the window, his reflection ghosting in the glass. The weight of the past few days still pressed heavily on him. Normally, he’d be the first to crack a joke or throw on a playlist, something loud and chaotic like Raise Your Flag by MAN WITH A MISSION, already queued up to blast through the speakers. He’d sing along loudly, grin and say something stupid like “You have to feel the music in your gut, man!”, and their blonde mate would told him to fuck off with his own matching grin. But tonight, he said nothing.

Izuku sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He wasn’t sure what Bakugo had planned, but right now, anything was better than whatever they were doing these days.

.

.

.

The gym was dimly lit when they arrived. The stale stench of sweat clung to the concrete walls, mixing with the metallic tang of oxidized iron and chalk dust. The air was thick with a heaviness that settled deep in the lungs. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, their inconsistent glow casting jagged shadows along the floor and across the rows of reinforced training equipment designed specifically for heroes. Multi-ton treadmills, weighted dummies, resistance fields, climbing towers, everything here catered to quirks, to extremes, to bodies like theirs. In the back stood the fighting ring, scuffed and battered from years of use. Another perk of the job. Izuku knew this gym like the back of his hand. It belonged to the agency him and Bakugo’s worked at, a shared space for all its hero’s with unlimited access. He had trained here, bled here, pushed himself to the brink here but tonight, it felt different. More charged.

Bakugo didn’t speak. He just made a beeline for the locker room, his boots echoing off the concrete. Kirishima and Izuku still followed him without a word. When they returned, changed and dressed down in gym clothes, Bakugo was already in the ring. The ring’s padding creaked beneath his boots as he rolled his shoulders and adjusted his gloves.

The second Kirishima stepped within range, a pair of gloves flew at his chest.

“Put ’em on,” Bakugo rasped.

Kirishima caught them mid-air with a surprised blink. “Don’t we need to warm up, or—?”

“I’m warm enough. Get in the ring.”

Kirishima hesitated only a moment before nodding, stepping between the ropes with a quiet sigh. Izuku hung back, settling near the edge of the ring, his arms crossed. Kirishima squared up in front of Bakugo, falling into a fighting stance with all the enthusiasm of a man going through the motions. His shoulders sagged slightly, his feet were planted on the mat. Bakugo, however, looked like he was seconds away from lunging.

“Ready, shitty hair?”

“Yeah,” Kirishima answered, voice dull. “I’m good.”

But "good" didn’t land the first punch.

Bakugo did. He shot forward like a missile, closing the distance in a single heartbeat. His fist collided with Kirishima’s guard, and the impact echoed through the room like a gunshot. Kirishima stumbled, boots dragging along the mat, barely absorbing the hit before crashing into the ropes.

“Slow,” Bakugo spat, already moving again.

Kirishima retaliated on reflex, swinging a solid right hook, but Bakugo dipped under it, ducking in close until their chests nearly touched. Then, with a grunt, he shoved Kirishima hard, sending him staggering backwards again.

From the edge of the ring, Izuku watched the scene unfolding in front of him. There was nothing playful about this spar. Bakugo was provoking Kirishima, prodding at some bruise beneath the surface, poking the red bear.

“You think holding back makes you a better person?” Bakugo’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “You think it makes up for anything?”

Kirishima’s eyes flashed, something sparking behind the tired haze.

Bakugo sneered. “Pathetic.”

Izuku saw it then, the flicker in Kirishima’s pupils, the way they sharpened, darkened. He was tracking Bakugo’s every move with predatory precision. And Bakugo knew it. He was feeding off it. Smiling, not just with amusement, but with anticipation.

“Come on,” Bakugo growled. “You hit that doctor harder than you’re hitting me. What, are you scared now, Eijirou?”

That did it.

Kirishima lunged, his entire body surging forward. The ring trembled under their combined weight as they collided. His fists came down in a storm, slamming into Bakugo’s guard over and over with raw, unchecked force. The sound was sickening, flesh on flesh, gloves on ribs, elbows scraping against sleeves. But Bakugo didn’t back down. He grinned, wild and unhinged, accepting each hit like a dare. Kirishima’s next punch missed, and Bakugo seized the opening, ducking low, elbowing him in the ribs, then gripping the back of his neck and yanking him into a brutal knee to the gut. The red hair choked, spit flying his lips, but he didn’t go down. He stumbled, bared his teeth, and charged into Bakugo, lifting him clear off the ground before slamming him into the mat. The sound was an echoing thud, and Izuku flinched involuntarily. They grappled, limbs tangled, sweat pouring down their skin. Their bodies moved in instinct and rage and something dangerously close to desperation. Neither wanted to stop. Neither could.

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat. There was something raw in it, something primal, like watching two storms collide. Each hit carried more than muscle. Every punch was part of a silent conversation. Bakugo’s lips were pulled into that terrifying, twisted and hot smile. Kirishima’s hands trembled, not from fatigue, but from the violence he was no longer holding back. And Izuku, well Izuku could feel it in his bones. The weight of it. The heat. The air was thick with sweat and pheromones, a heady, electric blend of rage and desperation and something primal. Bakugo's spice, sharp and biting. Kirishima's musk, warm and unrelenting. It clung to Izuku’s skin, mixed with the metallic tang of the gym until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. It hit him like a punch to the gut too. Dizzying. Almost sweet. Almost too much. His mouth went dry. His skin prickled.
God, it was intoxicating.

In their fight, once again,Bakugo gained the upper hand. He flipped them, slamming Kirishima onto his back and pinning him with a forearm across his collarbone. He winced, gasping, sweat glistening on his flushed face while Bakugo hovered over him, panting, chest to chest heaving, legs tangled together. His voice was low, and rough.

“There you are,” he rasped. His eyes burned, not with anger, but something sharper. Hungrier.

Kirishima sucked in a shaky breath, wide red eyes matching the blonde. “Fuck,” he breathed, the word cracking on his tongue.

Bakugo didn’t move immediately. He just looked down at him, face and knuckles bruised, his sharp teeth threatening to break into his skin. His body pressed even harder on his, almost crushing him with his weight. In response, Kirishima shoved him off with a growl, already rising to his feet, still not satisfied and craving more.

Izuku swallowed hard, his pulse drumming in his ears. He hadn’t moved the whole time. It wasn’t just a fight. It was hunger. It was yearning.

And god help him, it was hot.

So, it took me way longer to work through this chapter than I expected. I don’t know why; this was such a pain in the ass 😭

I feel like it’s been 10 chapters of everyone feeling bad for Todoroki, and I need to move on. Thankfully, it shouldn’t be long before I’m done with it. There are probably only two more sick Todoroki moments left, and very soon Bakugo will have his own POV chapter. I’m not really sure if I can call it a POV chapter, though.

I hope you guys enjoy it! I read a fic that did dialogue differently than I usually do, and I decided to try mimicking their style. Is it better than before, or not? I think I like it better this way. I also really tried to give you all a sense of what pack life was like before the reader, so I know it’s getting long, and maybe you guys are getting impatient to see the reader again. But trust the process! I feel like I need to make sure the pack feels like they have a real relationship on their own before introducing the reader to them.

Unrelated, but let me know what you all think about the characterizations. I don’t want them to feel too OOC, but I also want to try new things with them.

As always, criticisms are welcomed

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

10 -> 11 -> 12

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden ; @fto6 ; @hanniesroom ; @readeryn68 ; @queenofsimps001 ; @mai1em ; @demonzgutzz ; @sleepy-x-snake ; @xxang3|zz ; @decadentcrusadefun ; @shhhstar ; @n3ptOnee ; @nxcx|Ixsevens ; @mailem ; @aslos ; @thatone-gayweeb ; @eveylynnn ; @nervoussangel ; @inakyo ; @graythecoffeebean ; @ninabinna ; @3thr3al ; @barrythestrawberry041 ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @primary-022 ; @prettyprojectshq ; @bluepatrolbear ; @literallyjustmyself23 ; @p3n310p3 ; @slayerdiva ; @hw-shorty ; @quixoticcat ; @fluffypuffyfishyswishy ; @thepocgoat ; @heylolmeow ; @00asworld ; @kienhawon ; @acotarshdowandbone ; @barrythestrawberry041 ; @11sp4des ; @maliamaiden ; @puppyminnnie ; @katbug37 ; @the-fandom-ness ; @dabisstapledonballsack ; @ninabinna ; @graythecoffeebean ; @primary-022 ; @nervoussangel ; @p3n310p3

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (08)

It’s been a while everyone, how have you been? Good I hope, final season is officially over for me, so I’ll go back in my usual schedule.

Warning: cursing

Tags: Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Pack! X fem!Reader ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; smut eventually ; fem!Reader ; afab!Reader

07 <- 08 -> 09

Masterlist

Taglist -> if you want to be tagged on the next update

The first day after the "incident" had been spent curled up in bed at your apartment, feeling like a prisoner awaiting their inevitable sentence. You half-expected the police to burst through your door at any moment, Red Riot at their side, ready to un-break your nose all over again. Maybe even Shoto Todoroki, wrapped in a Mylar blanket, pointing at you and shouting, “That’s the one, officer!”

Anger pulsed through you, searing and relentless. Each time you closed your eyes, memories ambushed you. Shoto’s desperate pleas, Kirishima’s glare brimming with fury, the sharp sting of your broken nose. The rage felt alive, coiling beneath your skin, hot and suffocating. Sleep was a distant and impossible dream. Every time you thought you were drifting off, your mind screamed at you, reminding you just how utterly fucked up this whole situation was. You had replayed the scene over and over, thinking about what you could have done differently. Fantasies of smashing Red Riot’s nose into an unrecognizable, never seen before, shape shape danced in your head. You had cursed yourself for not slapping common sense back into Shoto Todoroki’s head the second he started his « alpha alpha » bullshit. Sure, as a doctor, you understood how bad heat could cloud someone’s judgment and his was so absurd it bordered on mockery. Alpha ? You ? Yeah no. You had accepted your beta sentence years ago. Still you were too furious to listen to your inner doctor self.

The rage still burned beneath your skin, raw and unrelenting, until it felt like shards of glass grinding against your skull. Every furious thought made your head throb, the ache bleeding into your nose, your jaw, your very core. It was suffocating—too much. So, you forced it down, swallowed the anger and shoved it deep into the pit of your stomach. You were so tired. Your body ached, heavy and fragile, ready to collapse under the weight of it all. Eventually, stillness crept over you, your body sank even deeper into your bed and finally sleep came.

.

.

.

The piercing sound of your ringtone jolted you awake the next day. You groaned, threw the phone across the room, and buried your head under the pillow. The hospital, no doubt. You could already imagine their cold, painfully professional and clipped voice stripping away years of sacrifice and dedication: “Your license has been revoked as a result of gross negligence and inappropriate conduct toward a patient. You are no longer permitted on hospital premises.” The thought made bile rise in your throat. Not yet. You weren’t ready to hear it.

Muttering curses, you dragged yourself upright, only to be startled by the loud growl of your stomach. Hunger clawed at you, and for the first time in days, you had a problem you could actually solve.

"Alright," you mumbled to the empty apartment. If this was your last stretch of freedom before the cops came knocking, you might as well enjoy it. So you ordered everything: Italian, Vietnamese, Chinese. Thankfully, the food arrived quickly. You might have felt a twinge of guilt for the overworked delivery man, struggling to juggle all your bags in one trip—if you had the energy to care. Instead, you handed him the payment, mumbled a quick thanks, and hurried back to the table, arms overflowing with paper bags and boxes. It was a feast. Too much, by any reasonable measure, but reason had no place here. It was pure indulgence, but in your situation, indulgence couldn’t possibly be a sin. It was a necessity—the final wish of a professionally dead woman.

The first bite was salvation. Rich, greasy cheese melted on your tongue as the thick crust of the pizza gave way beneath your teeth. The bánh mì’s savory pork and tangy pickled vegetables paired perfectly with the glossy noodles of the stir-fry. Every dish brought its own moment of glory, and you ate with reckless abandon, savoring every bite until you couldn’t. The dull ache in your nose and jaw faded into the background, drowned by the sheer joy of taste.

The hospital called again and again, but you put your phone on mute after the third call. The whole place could burn down for all you cared. Right now, none of it existed—not the hospital, not the broken nose, not the rage—just the food and the blissful emptiness in your mind. You ate and napped all day long.

.

.

.

By the third day, something shifted. You woke up later than you had in years, sunlight streaming through the half-closed blinds, its warm glow painting the room in the late-afternoon. It hadn’t fully hit you yesterday, but now you realized—for the first time in forever—you had nowhere to be. No patients waiting for you, no charts demanding updates, no surgeries looming over your schedule.

You’d always loved your job. Truly, you had. You took pride in every life saved, in every crisis averted by your hands. But as you lay there, sprawled across the mess of your unmade bed, you couldn’t deny the comfort of a morning like this. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be fine. This wasn’t the end of your life but rather the beginning of a new chapter. You could see it now: you, working in a small and quiet café with cute uniforms and friendly customers. Surely, being a waitress couldn’t be harder than being a doctor, right? The image of yourself laughing as you served pastries in a adora black-and-white uniform brought a fleeting smile to your lips. An easy little life, far removed from all of this.

The rest of the day drifted by in unapologetic laziness. The mental picture of café life faded as you succumbed to hours of mindless scrolling—movies, Twitch streams, YouTube video . It all blurred into a soothing, numbing stream of distraction. You laughed at the dumbest jokes, cursed fictional characters for their stupid decisions, and fell asleep at random intervals, with your phone slipping from your grasp. You had leftovers from yesterday which you didn’t even bother to reheat them. You just ate straight from the containers, curled up in bed.

Every now and then, your thoughts wandered back to the incident: Kirishima’s furious glare, Shoto’s desperate eyes. The bitterness rose, bitter and acrid, but you shoved it back down each time. What was the point? There was no one to confront, no resolution to be had. Besides, a one-hour video essay on some obscure game you’d never played and probably never will, seemed far more appealing.

The day passed in a haze of nothingness. And as night fell, a quiet thought crept in: maybe unemployment was your true calling after all. This aimlessness.…wasn’t so bad, was it? At least, that’s what you told yourself. Over and over again that day.

This chapter is shorter than I initially planned, but it's all I have for now. I just wanted to post something for you all. I didn’t spend as much time reviewing it after writing, so there might be more mistakes (like spelling/grammar) than usual, lol. The next chapter should be much longer, and I know I mentioned that Izuku would be in this one, but I realized it makes more sense to give him his first pov chapter in the next update. It’ll flow better that way, in my opinion. I hope you all continue to enjoy this fic! The holidays are coming up soon, so I’ll be back to my regular schedule then.

Also, I hope the timeline is clear. I’m it isn’t clear so just in case some of you are confused: After the incident at the hospital, Reader hid in her apartment for about 3 or 4 days while Kirishima and Todoroki were going at it. Eventually, after Todoroki’s heat was over, he went to the hospital to apologize (as seen in the last chapter), but the Reader was nowhere to be found because she is still hiding in her apartment. I hope that clears things up for anyone who had questions!

As always, criticisms are welcomed

07 <- 08 -> 09

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

-> I think we’ve reached the limit of the taglist—I can’t tag more than 50 people in one post, sadly. So, I’ll stop the taglist here and will only tag the first 50 persons who asked to be in it initially. If anyone knows how to change this, I’d love some help! Anyway, if you still want to be notified of the next updates, you can follow me. Thank you all for your support, I can’t believe over 50 people like my work and want to keep up with it!

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @bluepatrolbear ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden ; @fto6 ; @hanniesroom ; @readeryn68 ; @queenofsimps001

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (02)

Already? I know, right. I don’t know what’s happening to me right now, but let’s hope it lasts. I never knew it would be so fun to write, clearly not the same high as reading a great book or fic, but pretty close. This is slightly longer than the first chapter.

01 <- 02 -> 03

Masterlist

Taglist

Warning: cursing, nsfw (but like you should expect it), a little smutty but nothing too explicit

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

A chilling sweetness was the first thing your nose picked up. The longer the scent wrapped itself around you, the more you recognized the undeniably sweet, tangy, and fresh aroma of ripe berries. The crispness of the scent left you wondering if the berries were slightly frozen, adding a refreshing and pleasant coldness. You couldn’t quite tell which berries they were—blueberries, raspberries, maybe even strawberries? It didn’t matter, because the blended scent left you craving a taste. You could almost picture a glass bowl full of ripe berries, your hand reaching in to devour the sweet treat.

Your body didn’t quite know how to handle it, instinctively tensing against the overwhelming sensation. You felt an involuntary shiver run down your spine as the sweetness invaded your senses, leaving you both mesmerized and disoriented. It consumed you, making your pulse quicken as your senses struggled to process it. Your head felt light, almost dizzy, like the ground beneath you had shifted. Just when you thought you might find yours footing, the coldness of the berries began to melt away, and the scent transformed—richer, warmer, sweeter. Honey.

You could smell honey now, hot and thick, being poured over the berries. The heat of the honey mixed with the berries was almost too much. Your pulse escalated, racing out of control, and every breath you took only pulled more of the intoxicating scent into your lungs. It flooded your mind, clouding your thoughts. The hot honey turned the berries into a syrupy, luscious jam, and you could practically taste it, the sweetness lingering on your lips. Your entire body tingled, unable to escape the pull of the scent.

The culprit behind the scent was obviously Todoroki. In the back of your mind, you could hear a little voice—your inner doctor—saying he was showing signs of entering his heat. But it was still confusing because you had never smelled anyone’s scent, heat or no heat, this strongly before. It had never affected you this much. Usually, you could only pick up faint hints of sweetness or sourness from others, but this... this was different. You had never been able to distinguish someone’s scent this clearly before, but with Todoroki, you could name it exactly—frosted berries and honey. Not only that, but the way your whole body tingled just from smelling it was entirely new. It was overwhelming, all-consuming. And from the way Todoroki was looking at you, eyes dark with a knowing smile, and how his scent spiked in response, you knew he noticed how deeply his scent affected you too.

"Alpha... you’ll take care of me, won’t you?" His voice had dropped lower, breathless, tinged with desperation but still confident, as if he was sure you would give him everything he wanted. As if the two of you weren’t practically strangers, as if the sterile hospital room around you didn’t exist, as if everything he was thinking about wasn’t entirely inappropriate. Embarrassingly, it wasn’t just him. You were really really trying to not focus on how your thoughts were heading down the same dangerous path.

“Todoroki, it seems you’ve entered your heat. Don’t worry, we’ll prescribe you some medication to help manage it until you can be released home.” You tried to force professionalism back into your voice, but the way his eyes, once filled with raw desire, narrowed at you with disapproval made your heart stutter. His eyebrows furrowed, and his lips parted in something close to frustration.

“I don’t want medicine, Alpha. I want you,” he rasped, his voice breaking slightly. His hand shot out, more desperate now, as if he couldn’t bear the distance between you. Before you could react, he grabbed your hand, and you were too startled—too affected by the intensity of his words—to pull away. With a shaky breath, he pressed your hand against his cheek, closing his eyes and sighing deeply, almost in relief.

He didn’t stop there. He nuzzled your hand, the gesture so gentle, like he was seeking comfort and your touch was the only thing that could soothe him in that moment. It was adorable in a strange, needy way—like a cat demanding affection. But there was an underlying desperation in the way he leaned into you, and the way he pressed into your palm made you feel how badly he needed it. The innocence of the gesture was overshadowed by the unmistakable tension in the air. He was scenting you, while the overwhelming sweetness of his scent was making you clenched your thighs tightly together as a wave of heat washed over you.

Todoroki hadn’t forgotten his own wanted. His lips pressed eagerly against the palm of your hand, each kiss slower, more intense than the last. Instinctively, you tried to pull away, a small yelp escaping your lips, but his grip tightened. His eyes opened, locking onto yours, annoyed with your actions.

His grip on your wrist was bruising, a stark contrast to the frantic, needy kisses he pressed against your hand. His body trembled, grinding desperately —Oh God— against the blanket resting on his laps, frantically looking for any relief. Kissing your hands weren’t enough to calm him. He guided your hand to his neck, forcing your fingers to press against his scent gland, but that didn’t satisfy him either. His breath hitched as he moved your hand lower, dragging its down his chest. When your finger brushed over his nipple, a high, strained moan slipped from his lips. His hips jerked upward, aching for friction, anything to break the suffocating need building within him. His body was on the edge, desperate for release, and craving more.

You felt feverish, trapped by his grip. The warmth of his skin seeped through his shirt, so hot it was burning you in the most delicious way. When your eyes met his, the smile he gave you was ravaging, and you felt yourself leaning closer into his warmth. He seemed to have the same idea, trying to close the distance between you. Your lips are now within reach for his—lips that had been tempting him for what felt like an eternity.

His hands eagerly moved yours, guiding them to the place he needed you the most while his legs was spreading in impatience. His mind was too clouded with desire to even consider removing his clothes, despite how uncomfortable they felt against his skin. As your faces drew closer, he whispered a soft "alpha," and breathed a warm laugh brushing against your lips as his eyes fluttered shut, ready to claim yours.

You felt it before you saw it. The loud crash of the door slamming open, hands seizing your collar and yanking you off the ground with brutal force. Your head slammed into the wall, a vicious crack of pain exploding through your skull. Even through the blinding haze of disorientation and the tears stinging your eyes, one thing stood out—red. Red eyes, blazing with fury and barely-contained rage.

"What the fuck are you doing to him?"

Alright, this one’s finally done! Did you like it? I hesitated for a while about ending the chapter with “You felt it before you saw it.” Like, setting up people to expect smut in the next chapter, then plot twist: “I lied, put your clothes back on, someone’s trying to beat your ass.”

But I feel like, since I’m still at the beginning of my fic, I shouldn’t do that. I need to make y’all want to come back, so I figured not revealing who the angry person was at the end would be better (especially since I haven’t even started working on the next chapter yet).

Have you noticed? I always try to end the chapter with a little cliffhanger, so y’all get curious about what might happen next. Also, I was considering changing the reader to gn!reader so it would be more inclusive but I wasn’t sure about it.

For those who asked me to tag them, tell me if this works. I have never created a tag list before so I am not sure.

This is a long ass note, way too long. None is reading all of that 😭

As always, I am open to criticism.

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

01 <- 02 -> 03

Taglist

I am back !

My exams are officially over! I can’t say they were a huge success, but at least they’re done. I’ll post a short chapter today (like really short, guys—don’t expect anything big) to ease myself back into writing. I really missed working on this fic! I even did some research on how other people write doctors and what a “stereotypical” doctor personality might look like. For the first time ever, I started watching Grey’s Anatomy 😭. It was such a good idea—it gave me plenty of inspiration for the reader’s personality and future events. Have you ever heard of a doctor’s ego? Or how you’ve got to be a little messed up in the head to become a surgeon?

I’m definitely using all of that to flesh out the reader. I know the reader is supposed to be a self-insert, but I think the story would suffer too much if I made the reader too much of a blank slate.

Anyways, I’ll post next chapter in a couples of hours or tonight. I plan on going crazy with the chapter and make up for the last 2-3 weeks of absence. I’ll try to lock in and do like 2 chapters every weeks for a couple of weeks.

By the way, thank you for all your support. I love all your comments (even when I don’t reply sometimes, it’s usually bc I don’t know what to say back other than thank you😭), the likes, the sub and everything really

Guys I didn’t abandon this fic.

Good news, I have been working a little bit on the next chapter. I am already at 2k words so that’s one might be the longest.

I am not giving you a date bc I already lied too much on this page 💀

But just know it’s coming, next chapter we’ll see more of the pack dynamics and hopefully we’ll have the pack officially meeting Reader in like 3 chapters.

So yeah, I am not dead and this fic isn’t dead either.

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (04)

Well, damn, it’s been a while. Uni is kicking my ass, but I’ll try to do at least one update every week (the goal is one during the week and one on the weekend). Anyway, I hope you like this chapter too! Thank you all for your support; I really appreciate all the likes and comments. It’s my first fic, so seeing people enjoy it is so validating and motivates me to keep writing.

I will try to post another chapter this weekend though.

Warning: cursing, blood

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

03 <- 04 -> 05

Masterlist

Taglist

You had never gotten home so fast in your life. The entire drive was a blur—nothing but flashing lights, familiar roads, and the sound of your own pounding heart. It was a miracle you didn’t slam headfirst into someone else’s car or lose control of the wheel. The last, dying surge of adrenaline got you through a sloppy parking job, followed by a sprint into your apartment complex, straight to your apartment’s door. The moment it slammed shut behind you, you quickly locked the door. A distant voice in the back of your mind wondered if your neighbor would leave yet another passive-aggressive note about the noise, but you couldn’t care less right now, but you couldn’t care less now. For the first time in what felt like hours, you sucked in a shaky breath, leaning against the door as you slid down. Your back scraped painfully against the wood, but you didn’t care about that either. When your ass finally hit the floor, the whole nightmare came crashing down on you. The fear, the panic, the pain—it all hit you at once, in a suffocating wave that made your chest tighten.

Your nose had stopped bleeding during that hellish drive, but the damage was done and blood was everywhere, splattered all over your shirt, caked, crusted and dried. And then there was the sweat dripping down your body, making your skin sticky and gross. You smelled like rusty iron and sweat, a disgusting mix that made you want to puke, while the still sharp and throbbing ache in your nose acted as a constant reminder of how fucked up this day had been.

You sat there in silence. The tears long gone, dried somewhere between the drive and the door slamming shut behind you, but the exhaustion was still there. Everything hurt: Your head from being smashed into the wall, your face from Red Riot’s fists, your legs from sprinting like your life depended on it. And it might as well have been the case.

Minutes passed in agonizing stillness before you felt something besides pain and exhaustion. A vicious spike of anger shot through you. White-hot, boiling rage surged through your veins. It crashed into you with full force, tearing through the numbness. You had been terrified, yes—petrified, running for your life—but now? The fear had settled, buzzed out of your system, and only left rage in its wake. Staggering to your feet, you felt the room sway around you as you stumbled to the bathroom. Once you met your own eyes in the bathroom’s mirror, you couldn’t stand the sight of yourself—sweaty, bloody, pathetic and wrecked. It made your stomach churn. You looked like shit, arguably worse than shit. Your eyes were bloodshot, your face swollen, your lips busted wide open. And your nose—twisted in a way that made you wince just looking at it.

All of this for what ? Nothing.

That piece of shit Red Riot, did that to you. He came barging through the door like a red storm, no explanation needed before breaking your nose. You hadn’t even done anything wrong. Not a goddamn thing. But no Red Rio- Kirishima Eijiro, the known friendly hero, had acted like a rabid dog and torn into you without a second thought.

Fuck him. Matter of fact, fuck Todoroki too. Fuck those two.

He beat you into the ground, and you did nothing. You couldn’t do anything. Rage boiled in your chest as you yanked your clothes off and threw the bloodied, reeking fabric to the floor. Your hands reached for your face, intending to heal your injuries with your quirk but as your fingers brushed over the dried blood and bruises, you caught the faint scent of berries and honey beneath the sweat and rusty iron. Your stomach twisted as the memory of Todoroki’s desperate wet kisses on your hands flashed through your mind. The anger surged again, burning hotter as you quickly washed away his scent on you in the sink before healing yourself.

A soft yellow glow filled the room as your quirk worked to repair the worst of the damage—your split lips, your broken nose. A tingling sensation crept over your body, uncomfortable, but familiar and you frowned, concentrating on pushing through the discomfort as your quirk did its work. It wasn’t a “miracle-doing” type of quirk though, your nose straightened, your lips sort of healed—but the pain lingered, lurking beneath the surface. You’d only kick-started the healing process. It would take time for the swelling to go down, for the bruises to fade, for the pain to finally subside.

You hit the shower, cold water cascading over you, washing away the dried blood as you scrubbed your skin roughly with your loofah. You stayed under the chilling stream, hoping it would wash away the weight of this terrible day, letting it all drain down the sewer. It was only when you began to feel raw and too cold that you jumped out of the shower, dried yourself with your towel, and put on the first non-bloodied shirt you found on your way out of the bathroom.

Once you opened your bedroom door, you didn’t bother to turn on the light; the darkness felt comforting, and you welcomed it with open arms. You crawled under the sheets, burying yourself in the heavy comforter, yearning for the warmth it promised to bring. The weight of the blanket pressed down on you, grounding you in a way you needed after this atrocious day. You longed for it to smother the lingering anger and exhaustion, but you couldn’t shake the thoughts running rampant in your head. How long before Red Riot reported you to the police? How long until the hospital fired you and your medical license was revoked? It would be your word against his in front of a judge. “Beloved hero Red Riot catches a doctor taking advantage of his mate, other beloved hero, Shoto Todoroki,” you could already imagine the headlines. The public, police and judges would eat it up, siding with the hero without question.

After a day filled with chaos and pain, your mind was now horrifyingly clear. You knew it—there was no escaping this. You were done for.

Ironically, the only person who might have been as furious as you today was Kirishima. He was livid—at you for taking advantage of Shoto, at the villain he had to apprehend before rushing to the hospital, and at himself for arriving so late.

He barely noticed when you fled the room, his focus entirely on Shoto. He realized how awful of a partner he’d been, letting his anger consume him. He knew how overwhelming his scent got when that happened, and how sensitive omegas were to scents during their heat. Shoto’s heat wasn’t even due for another three weeks normally, his mate was always so punctual when it comes to thing like this, so to smell his familiar scent of berries and honey, so rich and intense from behind the door, surprised him when he first arrived at his mate’s hospital room earlier. But what really made him stop was the new, unfamiliar scent coming from the room

The two scents mingled, forming a mouthwatering fragrance of sweet, thick and ripe—berries, peach, and maybe apricot under a drizzle of hot honey. The combination was intoxicating, like stepping into an orchard at the height of summer, where each layer of sweetness blended perfectly with the next. The richness and depth of it were almost overwhelming, a scent so inviting and luscious it felt as though you could taste it, lingering and saturating the space around it. It was so enticing but equally odd, a foreign scent mixed with Shoto’s. The warmth and intensity of his mate’s scent coming through the door was a confirmation that he was already in heat and the thought of Shoto in such a vulnerable state with a stranger fueled Kirishima’s panic. Worried, he had bursted through the door to find you, a doctor, with your hands all over Shoto in a way that looked anything but professional, a red haze of fury had fully consumed him.

But now ? Now, he had to be there for Shoto. He had already wasted too much time dealing with you, and the pain in Shoto’s eyes confirmed he had already failed as a partner today.

“Shoto, are you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t come—" His voice was thick with worry and panic, but Todoroki cut him off.

“Eijirou, home, now….just take me home."

“Of course. Let’s get you out of here.” Kirishima nodded instantly, his heart pounding as he held out his hand, ready to steady Shoto with it. Shoto was his priority now, and he couldn’t risk another creepy doctor coming in.

He took him by the arm and supported him as they both walked toward the exit. Pro heroes had their own separate exit in their hospital wing as a safety measure, preventing journalists from harassing them the moment they stepped outside. When they reached the hospital’s second front desk, the man working there gave them a confused look, as patients couldn’t be discharged without their doctor’s approval. However, one look from Kirishima discouraged him from asking any questions.

Once they left the building, Kirishima noticed Todoroki’s condition worsening. If his usual quiet demeanor was comforting and endearing, the silence now filled Kirishima with dread. He focused on getting Shoto home, guiding him to his car and helping him into the back seat. The heterochromatic boy appeared uncomfortable lying on the too-small back seat, and all Kirishima could do was hold his hands, and softly promises they’d be home soon.

The drive home was the most careful yet fastest he had ever experienced, but still one of the worst. He hated hearing Shoto's pained moans every time he accelerated too quickly or hit a bump too harshly.

Did I mention that chapter 3 was the end of the prologue? Well, I lied! I had planned an interesting scene between Kirishima and Todoroki, but this chapter ended up being so long. I think I'll save it for next time. Plus, I wrapped up the last two chapters similarly, with a character leaving the hospital in their car, so that counts for something. At the very least, it’s a mini cliffhanger: “Oh, what’s going to happen when Todoroki and Kirishima finally get back home? 👀👀👀 »

What did you think of the Kirishima POV part of this chapter? I feel like calling his mate by his last name is a bit silly, but I also noticed I overused their names. It’s just "Shoto... Kirishima... Shoto's... Kirishima..." on and on.

I can now confidently say that the prologue is complete—unless I decide otherwise in the next update!

As always, criticism are welcome !

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

03 <- 04 -> 05

My apologies if I forgot anyone in the taglist, I may have underestimated how much work a taglist is 😭

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby

Y’all, it is so embarrassing to write fic sometimes. I cringe every time I try to write the character hooking up or falling in love.

There won’t be any calling reader “kitten” or “bunny” in my fic, bc i will rather die than write unironically. Just reader, I don’t know for the rest of the characters yet

By the way, a new chapter of Learning to Belong drops in an hour!

how i look at my screen after y/n just got called kitten/puppy/bunny

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (10)

So it’s been a while, huh? I think the beginning of the year crashed into me like a bulldozer, and I wasn’t in the mood to write. Well, I did write, but everything looked like shit from the butt. But at last, I managed to push through it. I tried something different with the writing here, so I hope it’s better than my previous work. Enjoy!

Tags: Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Pack! X fem!Reader ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; smut eventually ; fem!Reader ; afab!Reader

09 <- 10 -> 11

Masterlist

Taglist

Izuku truly wished they could put this whole incident behind them and move on. He had hoped that once Todoroki sent an email to the hospital director—a carefully worded, deeply sincere apology addressed to Doctor L/N and the hospital, sent the day after his failed attempt at apologizing in person— would lift some of the weight off Todoroki and Kirishima’s shoulders. That soon enough, things would settle, and the pack would be back to normal.

But from the moment Todoroki first told them what had happened, Izuku had a bad feeling. He knew that Todoroki going to the hospital alone to apologize was the right thing to do, but there had been something in Todoroki’s eyes, a sharp glint of excitement that didn’t sit right with him. And when he’d returned home that night, he’d found him on the couch, motionless, his hand buried in a bowl of peach slices and his fingers sticky with juice. His expression vacant, and absent. Kirishima hadn’t been the same either. If anything, after hearing about the failed apology attempt, he had gotten worse. Somehow, a single alpha, one Izuku had never even met, had managed to throw his entire pack into chaos.

Rationally, he knew it wasn’t the doctor’s fault. If anyone was to blame, it was his mates. But the whole situation was so strange, so frustrating, that he couldn’t help understand how the hell they had ended up here. He’d tried to ask Todoroki about the alpha, about you, but all he got was a name, and something about the way Todoroki said it made him hesitate to press any further. When he turned to Kirishima, he got even less. The redhead had been too angry that day to remember much at all. All he recalled, a few days later, was an unfamiliar fruity scent mixed with Todoroki’s before he broke the door open.

Now, three days had passed, yet the air in their apartment only grew heavier. And Todoroki—Todoroki was hardly there at all, more shadow than man. He spent most of his days asleep, and when he was awake, he barely moved, barely spoke. Just sat there, eyes fixed on the wall with an hollow expression, as if he were somewhere far beyond their reach. He wasn’t eating either, at least not enough. He’d claimed to have no appetite. The only thing Todoroki had asked for—had eaten without hesitation—was peaches. Not just a few, but an almost absurd amount, day after day, like he was possessed. He would sit there, silent and distant, methodically working through bowl after bowl, as if peaches were the only thing tethering him to reality. And the strangest part? He never seemed satisfied. No matter how many he ate, it was never enough. Since when did Todoroki even like peaches this much? Izuku had no idea and he was getting weird out by the sheer amount of peach’s pits in their trash can.

Izuku had tried to get him to eat more, something other than just peaches. He tried a soft approach, casually suggesting he add something else to his plate, like rice or any protein, just to balance it out. But no matter how he went about it, Todoroki refused every time, just shaking his head and mumbling that he wasn’t hungry. Kirishima’s attempts weren’t successful either, he had brought home soba from Todoroki’s favorite spot, but Todoroki only took a couple of bites before pushing the bowl away. Katsuki couldn’t do any of the gentle approaches. He had yelled, scowled, and was a breath away from shoving food down Todoroki’s throat. But none of it worked. It was like trying to start a fire with wet wood—Todoroki just sat there, blank-eyed and distant, completely unreachable.

It was a mess. A complete, exhausting mess. And if Todoroki was worrying him to death, Kirishima wasn’t far behind.

At least he was still functional—he still ate, still spoke, still went to work—but there was something off. He was quieter, his usual warmth dulled at the edges. Kirishima was their glue, the one who lifted their spirits and held them together when things got rough, but ever since they failed to get through to the hospital—failed to contact you—he hadn’t been himself fully. The only response they had gotten to Todoroki’s email was a generic, automated reply, and that had done nothing but add to Kirishima’s guilt.

Izuku sat on the couch, his laptop on the coffee table while he absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his knee, his thoughts running in circles.

This wasn’t the first time Todoroki had been reckless. Beneath that calm exterior, he could be just as stubborn as Katsuki and him, even rash. But this? The complete detachment, the disregard for his own well-being, the strange obsession with a single food ? It wasn’t just a quiet withdrawal from his pack, It was like he’d stopped caring about himself completely. And that’s worried Izuku to death. He felt sick and helpless, and powerless. Why is this happening? His thoughts spiraled, fast and frantic. Was there something we missed? Maybe he’s just really tired and it will all get sort out ? But this isn’t like him. He’s shutting everyone out. Izuku’s chest tightened. What if I can’t fix this? What if it’s already too late? His mind kept racing, as it always did, with no answers, just more and more questions.

The coldness from their mate reminded him too much of their early high school days, when Todoroki had been a boy made of ice, all sharp edges and frozen shut doors. Izuku felt like the bond they shared had frayed, leaving him disconnected, adrift, as if though he was fading from their grasp.

The pieces didn’t add up. Frankly, the more he thought about it, the stranger it became. How had a simple visit to the hospital turned into this? What exactly had happened in that room? Izuku couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. And when he felt like that, he did what he always did—he investigated.

He started with the hospital itself, combing through their website, news articles, and patient reviews. Most of it was clean. No major scandals, no malpractice lawsuits, no patient complaints that weren’t immediately resolved. Still unsatisfied, he called the hospital again, this time pushing harder for answers but all he got was a meeting with the director of the hospital tomorrow afternoon which was better than nothing.

After that call, something clicked. When Todoroki came back home, he’d been in heat—and Kirishima had stayed with him through it. But it had been early, too early. The pack tracked their cycles meticulously, they had to. If all of them ended up « indisposed » at the same time, and a high-profile villain struck, it would be a disaster.

This wasn’t just odd. It was wrong, he thought. There has to be an explanation for this.

And so, he dove into research again, scouring medical papers, forums, even the more questionable corners of the internet. At first, all he found were the usual causes—stress, sudden hormonal shifts, pack mates, environmental factors. But none of those fit. None of them explained why Todoroki’s heat had hit him so randomly. And then, buried under layers of medical jargon and old case studies, he found it.

It was possible to induce a heat. Not naturally, not safely, but with the right mix of drugs, it could be done. Hospitals wouldn’t do it legally, of course, but the medications required for it? They weren’t rare. Every one of them could be found in any hospital.

Did someone do this to him? His heart hammered in his chest, just imagining this possibility. The thought alone made his hands tremble with anger. Alphas abusing omegas were not rare, and doctors abusing their patients were even less rare. It disgusted him to think Todoroki and Kirishima were beating themselves over this incident when the doctor was responsible after all. No, just potentially responsible. He couldn’t know for sure but part of him was already certain that this was the explanation.

As Izuku scrolled through paper after paper on this drug, the apartment remained still allowing him to fully soak every information he could find online. The low hum of the heater was the only sound breaking the silence. It was just him and Todoroki tonight, though he hadn’t seen his mate since morning.

But then, footsteps.

Todoroki stepped into the living room, his movements slow, mechanical. He didn’t acknowledge Izuku, didn’t even glance in his direction—just crossed the space and sank onto the couch with a quiet, exhausted sigh. His posture was loose, almost boneless, but there was no real relaxation to it—just the weight of someone running on empty.

Izuku’s fingers hovered over his laptop. He hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, how deep he’d buried himself in his research. Outside the glow of his screen, the apartment was already dark, save for the dim light spilling from the his pc. It was late. Later than he’d thought and he probably start to make dinner for tonight.

Izuku still remained sited on the couch though, seeing Todoroki like this—so empty—only made his anger burn hotter and made him stop his tracks. But he forced himself to swallow it down. He couldn’t afford to lash out, not when he still wasn’t sure. He had to wait for tomorrow, when he’ll have the meeting with the director.

One way or another, he was going to get answers.

Izuku shut his laptop, fingers lingering over the lid. He didn’t want anyone finding out about this—not until he had proof. But before he could fully gather his thoughts, the sudden bang of the front door swinging open, followed by the unmistakable rasp of Katsuki’s voice, nearly sent him jumping to his feet.

“The hell is it so damn dark in here?” Bakugo grumbled, irritated as he flicked on the lights.

Izuku blinked at the sudden brightness, squinting as his blond mate strode inside with Kirishima trailing closely behind.

“Hey, I thought you guys had night patrol,” Izuku said, glancing toward the clock hanging on the wall. They weren’t supposed to be home yet.

“We did,” Bakugo responded as he tossed his keys onto the counter. “Something came up, someone covered for me.”

Kirishima didn’t say anything at first. He moved past Bakugo, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the back of the couch, his gaze flickering toward Todoroki. Checking on him.

“My agency had an emergency downtown,” he finally said, voice lacking its usual warmth. “A villain attack turned into a rescue op. They needed extra hands for search and rescue. By the time we were done, they gave me my evening.”

Izuku hummed in acknowledgment, but his attention drifted to Katsuki, who hadn’t moved from where he stood. His gaze was locked onto Todoroki, sharp, expectant.

Waiting

But Todoroki didn’t react. Didn’t look up. Didn’t even acknowledge any of them too.

Just nothing

Bakugo grumbled something under his breath before heading into the kitchen with anger in each step.

I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter! Chapter 11 will be out soon, and we’ll get a Bakugo POV soon too. I wanted to focus on the pack dynamics before the reader enters, and there’ll be more of that next chapter. I think it’s important to show the established couple’s bond, so yeah we’ll get a lot of it and even more after the reader come in the picture.

Doing a taglist is a too much work omg, no wonder most people don’t do it nowadays. On one hand I like that it hard bc that’s mean so many people want to keep up with my fics that I ended having to tag many people, on the other hand this lowkey discouraging me from posting bc I know I have to update the list every time 😭

This is such a fake ass problem to have, I am self aware.

As always, criticisms are welcomed

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

09 <- 10 -> 11

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden ; @fto6 ; @hanniesroom ; @readeryn68 ; @queenofsimps001 ; @mai1em ; @demonzgutzz ; @sleepy-x-snake ; @xxang3|zz ; @decadentcrusadefun ; @shhhstar ; @n3ptOnee ; @nxcx|Ixsevens ; @mailem ; @aslos ; @thatone-gayweeb ; @eveylynnn ; @nervoussangel ; @inakyo ; @graythecoffeebean ; @ninabinna ; @3thr3al ; @barrythestrawberry041 ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @primary-022 ; @prettyprojectshq ; @bluepatrolbear ; @literallyjustmyself23 ; @p3n310p3 ; @slayerdiva ; @hw-shorty ; @quixoticcat ; @fluffypuffyfishyswishy