MHA: Lust Quirk

Three days of nothing.

She didn't sit with me at lunch. Didn't text. Didn't come to the gym after hours. Her spot in the classroom was two rows ahead and she sat in it and took notes and smiled when people talked to her and she didn't look at me.

The doorbell rang at eight on a Wednesday evening.

I was at the desk reading rescue protocol notes I'd already memorized because my brain needed something to do besides count the hours since someone had told me not to text her. Gerald was on the ceiling. The fridge was humming. The apartment was quiet.

I opened the door.

Ochaco. Jeans, a T-shirt, sneakers. No makeup, no effort. Her hair was down and tucked behind one ear and her bag wasn't with her. She'd come here with nothing.

Her face was composed. Her eyes were bright.

"I thought about it," she said.

I stepped aside. She walked in. She took her shoes off at the door, lining them up against the wall with the toes pointed out. She walked to her spot. Between the bed and the desk, back against the wall. She sat down. Knees up. Her hands in her lap.

I closed the door. Sat on the bed across from her. The room was small and the distance between the bed and the wall was less than a meter and her knees were almost touching mine.

"You're with Ashido," she said.

"Yes."

"You kissed me."

"Yes."

"I kissed you back."

"Yes."

"And you're not going to stop seeing her."

"No."

Her mouth tightened. Her fingers pressed together in her lap, pad to pad, the release gesture. She wasn't using her Quirk. Her body was doing it anyway.

"And you still want me."

I looked at her. Brown eyes. Permanent-pink cheeks darker now. Her hands in her lap pressing together. Her mouth set.

"Ochaco, I wanted you before I wanted anyone else in this world."

She stared at me. Her lips parted.

"If I do this," she said. Her voice was steady but her hands were still pressing. "I'm not a secret."

"Never."

"And I'm not second."

"You're not second."

She stood up. Two steps across the room. She was in front of me sitting on the bed and she didn't hesitate. She put one knee on the mattress on my left side and the other on my right side and she sat in my lap, straddling, face to face. Her hands on my jaw. Her forehead an inch from mine. Her weight on my thighs.

She kissed me.

Slow. Deliberate. Her mouth was soft and warm and her hands were steady on my jaw even though her pulse was hammering in her fingertips where they pressed against my skin. Her heartbeat through her pads. Faster than mine.

My hands went to her waist. Her T-shirt was thin and the heat of her skin came through it and the muscle underneath flexed when I pressed. A week of Gunhead's forearm drills and hip throws had put a layer of hard muscle over a frame that was already solid. Broader than Mina. Sturdier. Built for impact.

She kissed me deeper. Her tongue against my lower lip. I opened for her and her tongue was warm and her breath was fast through her nose and her hands slid from my jaw to my hair and her fingers curled and she pulled my head back and kissed my throat.

My hands tightened on her waist. She felt it and her hips shifted in my lap and I was hard against her thigh through my shorts and she paused.

Pulled back an inch. Her face was flushed and her breathing was fast and she looked at me.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." She kissed me again. Harder. Her hips pressed down and the pressure was deliberate this time and my hands slid under her shirt and her skin was hot and smooth and her stomach flexed under my palm.

I pulled her shirt up. She lifted her arms. The fabric came over her head and her hair caught and she shook it free and she was in a plain white bra and jeans in my lap and her arms came down and crossed over her chest.

Covering herself.

Her cheeks were dark red. Her eyes were on the wall behind me. Her arms pressed tight against her chest and her jaw was clenched.

"Don't."

She looked at me. Her arms tightened.

"Don't cover up."

"I'm-" She swallowed. "I'm not built like Ashido. I'm-"

"I know what you're built like." I put my hands on her forearms. Didn't pull. Just rested there. "I've been sparring with you for weeks. I know where every muscle is. And I'm telling you don't."

Her arms loosened. Dropped. She let me see her and her face was burning and her jaw was tight but she did it.

Broader shoulders than Mina. Thicker through the waist and hips. The muscle from Gunhead's training visible along her arms and across her stomach. Her bra was simple and white and her breasts were fuller, pressed together by the fabric, and her skin was the same warm pink as her cheeks.

I traced the line of muscle along her side from her ribs to her hip. She flexed involuntarily under my fingers and her breath caught and her hands found my shoulders and gripped.

I unhooked her bra. My fingers were clumsy with it because my hands were bigger than the clasp was designed for and she reached back and helped and the fabric loosened and fell and she was bare from the waist up and her arms twitched at her sides and she kept them down.

Her breasts were round and heavy and her nipples were a shade darker than her skin and hard from the air. I cupped one and her breath stuttered.

"Ah-"

Small. Through her teeth.

I kissed her collarbone. The dip between her collarbones. The swell of her breast. Her nipple. Her stomach tightened and her fingers dug into my shoulders and she made the sound again, louder.

My other hand was on her hip and my thumb was tracing circles on her skin above the waistband of her jeans and she was rocking in my lap without meaning to, small movements, her body ahead of her brain.

Her hand landed on mine. My right hand. She held it. Turned it over. Looked at my palm.

Then she pressed her fingertips against mine. Pad to pad.

The sound she made was different from anything I'd heard from her. A gasp that started at the back of her throat and got swallowed halfway and her whole body went rigid for a second and her eyes flew wide.

"Those are-" she started.

"Sensitive."

"Nobody's ever-" She couldn't finish. Her cheeks were scarlet and her eyes were wet and she was staring at our hands pressed together, pad to fingertip. The pads were smoother than normal skin, slightly cooler, and when I pressed my thumb against the pad of her thumb she made a sound that was closer to a whimper than anything else.

"Nobody's ever touched them?" I said.

"They're my Quirk. People don't-" She shook her head. "They're afraid they'll float."

I lifted her hand. Brought it to my mouth. Kissed the pad of her index finger. She jolted. Her hips bucked in my lap and her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth opened and a noise came out that she hadn't authorized.

"Nn-"

I kissed the pad of her middle finger. Her ring finger. Her pinky. Each one pulled a different sound out of her and by the time I reached her thumb her hand was shaking and her other hand was gripping my shoulder hard enough that her pads were pressing into my skin and the faintest flicker of her Quirk passed through, a microsecond where gravity shifted under her hand before she yanked it back.

"Sorry- I almost-"

"It's fine." I put her hand back on my shoulder. "It's fine."

She was breathing through her mouth now. Fast. Her chest rising and falling and her face red and her eyes wet. Still in my lap with her jeans on.

I kissed her. She kissed back with her mouth open and her hands in my hair and her hips grinding down against me and the friction through my shorts was making it hard to think.

Her jeans came off. My shirt came off. Her underwear was plain white cotton and it was damp and she knew it showed and her face went redder.

I laid her back on the bed. She went down and her brown hair spread on the pillow and she looked up at me and her hands were at her sides and she didn't cover herself this time but her fingers were pressing together, pad to pad, the unconscious tic.

I pulled her underwear down her legs. She lifted her hips to help and the cotton slid off her ankles and she was naked on my bed and her thighs pressed together and then she opened them because she'd decided to be here and the decision included this.

My shorts. Off. I was hard and she looked and her eyes went wide and she bit her lower lip and the flush spread to her ears and down her neck.

I settled between her thighs. My weight over her and my forearms on either side of her head and her face was below mine. Brown eyes enormous this close. Pupils blown. Mouth open. Breathing fast.

I laced my fingers through hers. Right hand. Her grip closed around mine and her fingertip pads pressed into the back of my hand and the sensation shot through my wrist and up my arm. Both of us.

"Look at me," I said.

She was already looking. She hadn't stopped.

I pressed forward.

The first inch was slow. Tight. She was nervous and her body was nervous and I went slow enough that her breath caught and released and caught again. Her fingers clenched in mine. Her other hand gripped the sheet.

"Ah-"

Another inch. Her back arched slightly off the bed. Her thighs pressed against my hips and her eyes were on mine and she was watching my face while I pushed into her.

I bottomed out. Full. Her heat was everywhere and she was tight and her walls were clenching around me in a rhythm that matched her breathing and her hand was crushing mine.

"Okay?" I said.

"Yeah." Breathless. "Yeah. Move."

I pulled back. Slow. Her grip on my hand tightened as I withdrew and her lips parted and she made a sound that was just breath. I pushed back in and she was wetter now and the slide was easier and the sound of it was quiet and slick and her cheeks went darker.

Slow. Each thrust its own beat. Her face showed every one. Her mouth opening wider. Her eyebrows drawing together. Her eyes on mine.

Her free hand found my other hand. She interlaced those fingers too. Both hands. Gripping mine. Pad to pad.

I thrust harder. Her back arched and her breasts shifted with the motion and her hair slid across the pillow.

"Ry-"

She pressed her fingertips against mine. The release gesture, pad to pad, but with my fingers laced through hers, and her Quirk flickered for a microsecond and my weight shifted and the bed creaked and she gasped and clenched around me.

"Sorry- I can't- it keeps-"

"I don't care." I thrust again and her grip went white on my hands and her eyes were wide and wet and on my face. "Let it."

The pace built. Her breathing fragmented. Short gasps between thrusts. Her eyes on mine. Every time she started to close them she pulled them back open. She watched.

Wet. The sounds louder now. Slick and rhythmic. Sweat on her forehead. Her hair sticking to her temple. Her mouth open and the sounds coming faster.

"Ryo-" Her voice broke on the second syllable. "Ry- ah- Ryo-"

My name fracturing. Her fingers crushing mine. Her Quirk flickering against my skin. Her eyes on my face. Her body tightening around me in pulses. Her breathing shallow. Her lips shaping my name without sound.

Her fingertip pads pressed harder against my hands. The gravity in the room shifted for half a second. The sheet lifted off the mattress an inch before settling back down.

"Ryo-"