The beginning

The rhythmic thud of fists against padded targets filled the training grounds, each strike a testament to the dedication of Class 1-A. Sweat plastered hair to foreheads, muscles ached, yet they pushed on, fueled by a shared ambition to become the best heroes they could be. Today, though, a different kind of tension hummed beneath the surface, an undercurrent of camaraderie as they knew they were all going to the onsen at the end of their training.

Ida, ever the model student, led the charge with a series of precise kicks, while Kirishima, his usual boisterous self, grunted with each powerful punch. Bakugo, a whirlwind of explosive energy, unleashed a barrage of attacks, his crimson eyes blazing with fierce determination. Tokoyami, shrouded in shadows, moved with a quiet grace, Dark Shadow a blur of black against the sunlight. Todoroki, a picture of calm control, alternated between icy blasts and fiery bursts. Ojiro's tail swished as he expertly dodged and weaved. Kaminari's electricity crackled around him, and Koda, with gentle precision, maneuvered his animals through a small obstacle course. Sato's hulking form sent bags flying with raw strength, while Shoji's multiple arms made his moves fluid and fast. And in the midst of it all, Midoriya, his body a testament to his hard work, gritted his teeth and channeled One for All, his punches imbued with a barely contained power.

Aoyama and Mineta were conspicuously absent, their lack of drive a stark contrast to the others' burning commitment. After what felt like an eternity, the grueling session came to an end. A collective sigh of relief went up as they gathered their things, the thought of the hot springs a welcome reward. They made their way to a secluded onsen nestled deep within the U.A. campus, the steam rising invitingly into the cool evening air.

The hot water enveloped them, the heat melting away the aches and pains of the day. They relaxed into the steaming pool, the gentle gurgle of the spring a soothing melody. The usual playful banter filled the air, punctuated by the occasional splash and sigh. They were a group of friends, relaxing and enjoying the moment, completely unaware of the insidious substance snaking through the water. They drifted off to sleep, or so they thought. What was actually happening was that the water had been laced with a powerful aphrodisiac, one that would soon send them spiraling into an unfamiliar kind of chaos.

The next morning was… different. Agony was the first thing most of them registered, a deep, aching throb that seemed to emanate from the very core of their being. Midoriya, his body burning with an unfamiliar heat, bolted upright in his bed, a hand instinctively clutching at his stomach. He felt like he had done 100 pushups, pull ups, and situps the day before but it was more than that.

Bakugo, his face contorted in a mix of disgust and raw need, paced back and forth, his hands clenched into fists. His temper, normally explosive, was now a raw, vulnerable thing, an undercurrent of desire simmering beneath the surface. He felt like his very body was calling out to someone or something, and he hated it but craved it at the same time.

Todoroki, usually stoic and composed, was a picture of confusion. A strange burning sensation coursed through him, a feeling he couldn't quite understand, yet couldn't ignore. It was like he had been set on fire from the inside, demanding him to find release.

Kirishima, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a restless energy, ran a hand through his bedhead, his breath coming in short pants. He didn't know what this feeling was, but it was consuming him, making him want things he didn't even think he had the capacity to feel.

The others were in a similar state of disarray, a mix of pain, confusion, and an overwhelming surge of lust plaguing their waking moments. They were all aware that something was terribly wrong, something that had changed them fundamentally. It was as if a switch had been flipped in their brains, a primal urge taking control, overriding every bit of sense they had.

The thought of facing their peers, their teachers, and worst, their families was a terrifying prospect. How were they supposed to explain this? How would they learn and train when every fiber of their being was consumed by this strange, overwhelming desire?

The hallways of U.A. were now a gauntlet, each passing student a potential source of an unwanted spark. The girls, normally their friends and comrades, were suddenly objects of intense, burning desire. The boys, with their own struggles, were now a mix of competition, jealousy, and unwanted advances. Every sense was heightened, every movement a temptation.

Midoriya, his face flushed a deep red, found himself struggling to maintain eye contact with Uraraka, his mind conjuring up images that made his body ache. He was mortified by these thoughts, horrified that he could even think such things about his friend. He hid his face in his hands, trying, and failing, to get a grip of the situation.

Bakugo, with a growl, snapped at Kirishima, who had ventured too close, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He felt like he was about to explode, and the last thing he needed was anyone touching him, even his closest friend.

Todoroki, his face devoid of emotion as always, battled his inner demons, trying to find some semblance of control, but this new feeling was overwhelming, even for him. He kept his distance, afraid of what would happen if he got too close to anyone.

The day was a blur of awkward encounters, misplaced glances, and desperate attempts to hide their internal battles. They tried to participate in class, but their minds were elsewhere, consumed by the nagging, throbbing need that had taken root within them. The lessons were a struggle, each word a distraction, each movement a torment.

The training grounds were an even bigger challenge. Every exercise, every interaction, only intensified their discomfort, their bodies screaming for release. They avoided each other, each one lost in their own personal hell of arousal and confusion.

As the day came to an end, they knew they couldn't keep this up. Something had to change, something had to break. They were heroes in training, not animals driven by lust. They had to find a solution, an answer to this bewildering problem, before it completely consumed them. As they made their way back to the dorms, there was a new seriousness in their steps, a renewed determination that they would get through this, together, no matter how strange, uncomfortable, and lustful it got. This was not how the story of the rising heroes was supposed to go, but fate had dealt them a strange hand, and they would have to figure out how to play it.