The effects hit me like a brick wall.
I was barely through the door when a wave of heat washed over me. Sweat slicked my skin, my heart hammered against my ribs, and every nerve ending screamed with an unfamiliar sensitivity. I stumbled, grabbing onto the wall for support.
Panic flared. This wasn't normal. This wasn't the after effect of a fight.
I staggered towards my office, my mind racing. I kept meticulous records of every villain I encountered, their quirks, their weaknesses, everything. It was a morbid hobby, but it had saved my life more than once.
I pulled up the file on the villain from tonight. Ryan. The name meant nothing, but the quirk… the description sent a shiver of horror down my spine.
"Lust."
The chart laid it out in clinical detail: enhanced libido, heightened sensitivity, irresistible attraction. The quirk amplified desire, turning its target into an object of intense, overwhelming lust.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. This was a disaster.
I needed help. And there was only one person I trusted implicitly.
I fumbled for my phone and dialed Shinsou's number. He answered on the second ring.
"Izuku? What's wrong?" His voice was laced with concern.
"Shinsou, I need you to come over. Now. It's… complicated." I managed to choke out.
He didn't hesitate. "I'm on my way."
He arrived within minutes, his expression a mask of worry. I explained everything, the fight, the villain, the horrifying truth about his quirk.
Shinsou listened patiently, his eyes never leaving mine. When I finished, he nodded slowly.
"Okay," he said, his voice calm and steady. "What do you want to do? What can I do to help?"
That's when it happened.
The lust quirk surged through me, drowning out rational thought. My gaze locked onto Shinsou, and suddenly, everything was different. The room seemed to shrink, the air thickened, and all I could see was him. His eyes, those beautiful, captivating eyes, his lips, slightly parted in concern, the curve of his neck, the way his t-shirt clung to his chest…
I reached out, my hand trembling, and touched his cheek. His skin was warm, soft.
"I… I don't know…" I stammered, my voice thick with a desire I couldn't control.
He didn't flinch, didn't pull away. He just looked at me, his expression unreadable.
And then, he leaned in and kissed me.
It was a slow, tentative kiss at first, a question hanging in the air. But the moment our lips met, something inside me snapped. The lust quirk roared to life, amplifying the desire a thousandfold. I kissed him back with a desperate hunger, my hands clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer.
He responded in kind, his arms wrapping around me, his body pressed against mine. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling, breaths mingling. It was a maelstrom of sensation, overwhelming and intoxicating.
We stumbled backwards, knocking over a lamp that crashed to the floor. Neither of us noticed. We were too lost in the moment, consumed by the burning need that had taken hold.
He broke the kiss, gasping for air. His eyes were dark with desire, his cheeks flushed.
"Izuku…" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Are you sure?"
I didn't answer. I just kissed him again, harder this time, silencing any doubts, any reservations. The lust quirk had blurred the lines, amplified the feelings, and there was no turning back.
We moved to the bedroom with a sort of desperate urgency, shedding clothes along the way. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, eager to feel his skin against mine. He tugged at my own shirt, ripping a button in his haste. I didn't care.
We fell onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths. I straddled his hips, my hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. He groaned, arching his back, giving me better access.
"God, Izuku…" he moaned, his hands gripping my thighs.
I leaned down and kissed his neck, nipping and sucking at his skin. He shuddered, his fingers digging into my back.
I moved lower, trailing kisses down his chest, his stomach, until I reached his belt buckle. He sucked in a breath as I unfastened it, slowly, deliberately.
"You don't have to do this…" he whispered, his voice strained.
But I did. I wanted to. The lust quirk had amplified every desire, every longing, and I couldn't resist.
I pushed his pants down, revealing his hard length straining against his boxers. He was beautiful, sculpted, perfect.
I lowered my head, taking him into my mouth. He cried out, his body bucking against me. I savored the taste of him, the feel of him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
He pulled me up, his hands desperate. "Enough," he gasped. "I want you inside me."
I straddled him again, my hand reaching down to guide myself inside him. He was tight, hot, perfect. I pushed slowly, carefully, until I was fully sheathed.
He groaned, his eyes closed, his face contorted in pleasure. I began to move, slowly at first, then faster, harder.
The room spun, the sounds faded, and all that existed was the feel of our bodies moving together, the rhythm of our breaths, the overwhelming pleasure that consumed us.
He came first, his body convulsing, his cry echoing in the room. I followed soon after, my own orgasm ripping through me with a force that left me gasping and shaking.
We collapsed against each other, spent and breathless. The lust quirk still thrummed through my veins, but it was muted now, replaced by a deep sense of satisfaction. We were both panting and spent but don't regret it.
I looked at Shinsou, his face flushed, his hair tousled, and realized that even under the influence of a villain's quirk, this felt… right.