"Shit, it's not there!"
Denki slammed the lid of the outdoor trash bin shut with more force than necessary. The metallic clang echoed across the small enclosure behind the dorms.
A few classmates who were just walking in from the afternoon training session, Sero, Jiro, and Kirishima, paused at the side door, giving him weird, sideways glances.
Sero raised an eyebrow. "Uh… you good, man?"
"Yeah, yeah," Denki muttered, waving them off without looking up. "Just… lost something. No big deal."
Kirishima gave him a thumbs up anyway. "If you need backup for a trash rescue mission, just say the word, bro!"
Denki forced a laugh that sounded more like a wheeze. "I'm good. Seriously."
They shrugged and headed inside, leaving him alone with the faint smell of rotting leftovers and his own spiraling thoughts.
The post-nut clarity had hit him twice now—once after Kendo and again after the second round that had somehow turned into a third. Each time the fog cleared, the same question screamed louder in his head:
What the actual fuck is happening to me?
He'd spent the rest of the school day in a daze, barely hearing Present Mic's English lecture or Midnight's quirk ethics discussion.
His mind kept replaying the moments: Tsuyu's deadpan stare turning molten the second his fingers brushed her back.
Kendo's legs were trembling, her voice was going husky, and she was begging him to 'help' her when all he'd done was accidentally grope her tit during a crash.
Girls don't just spontaneously get wet and horny for him. Not like that, not out of nowhere.
He'd turned it over and over in his head during lunch, during training, during the walk back to the dorms. One answer kept rising to the surface like a bad burp.
The VoltRelax 3000.
That stupid, faulty, backfiring 'relaxation module' Hatsume had shoved into his hands. The one that had electrocuted him so badly he thought he'd die. The one he'd chucked in this very bin. It had to be that.
But the shock hadn't just hurt; it had changed something. Rewired his quirk. Given him… a second one?
A passive aura?
A touch-based aphrodisiac effect?
Whatever it was, it turned casual contact into instant, overwhelming arousal for anyone on the receiving end.
And now the damn proof was gone; the bin was empty. Someone must've come to collect the trash earlier in the day. Probably the maintenance staff. They probably would have incinerated the trash.
Denki stared at the empty metal interior like it had personally betrayed him.
"Great," he muttered, rubbing his face with both hands. "Just fucking great. No way to maybe figure out how to turn it off. Or… on? Or control it? Or—"
He groaned, slumping against the bin wall.
If this thing was permanent… if every time he touched a girl, she turned into a horny mess… he might get screwed. Literally and figuratively.
He needed help and answers. He needed Hatsume. But first, he needed to not smell like garbage.
Denki pushed off the bin, headed back inside, and tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted with equal parts dread and a tiny, shameful spark of curiosity.
What would happen if he tested it again?
What if he wanted to?
He shoved the thought down hard.
Focus. Find Hatsume and try to know what to make of this. Before you accidentally turn the entire dorm into your personal sex cave.
But it was easier said than done.
***
Denki shut the door to his room quietly behind him, the faint glow of his monitor still lingering in his vision after hours of grinding ranked matches.
It was past midnight; the dorms were mostly silent except for the occasional creak of settling wood or distant snoring from Bakugo's room. His throat was dry from too much energy drink, so he padded barefoot down the hallway toward the kitchen for water.
As he approached, he noticed the soft yellow light spilling out from under the kitchen door. Someone was up.
He pushed it open gently.
Tsuyu stood by the counter, illuminated by the single overhead bulb. She wore a baggy gray sleep shirt that hung loose on her petite frame, long enough to cover her thighs but thin enough that when she shifted her weight, the fabric clung slightly to her curves.
No bra underneath. Her nipples were already faintly visible through the material, small peaks pressing against the cotton in the cool air. Her long green hair was down, slightly messy from lying in bed, and she looked… off.
Not her usual calm self, but stressed. Her big dark eyes had faint shadows underneath, and her shoulders were tense.
She turned when she heard him, blinking slowly.
"Denki. You're up late again."
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped inside. "Couldn't sleep. Are you okay? You look… kinda wrecked."
Tsuyu gave a small shrug, leaning her hips back against the counter. "Just a headache. Probably from all the work, the noise from everyone in the dorms, the Provisional License Exam coming up… it's a lot. I tried to rest, but my head won't stop throbbing."
Denki frowned, genuine concern cutting through the late-night haze. "Damn, that sucks. Sorry you're dealing with that; the dorms are loud as hell sometimes—I get it."
"Yeah," Tsuyu snorted, "like you're not part of the problem with your late-night gaming."
"Ouch." Denki scratched the back of his head. "Sorry for being part of the problem."
"It's not a problem." Tsuyu smiled. "I forgive you for accepting your fault."
"It's kinda funny," Denki said. "Last time, I was the one not feeling good; now it's you."
"Yeah, let's swap back. I don't like this." Tsuyu replied, earning a smile from him.
She then tilted her head, studying him for a second. Then, with the tiniest flush creeping across her cheeks, she said softly, "Maybe… If you touched me again like you did last time, the headache could go away."
The words landed like a spark on dry grass.
Denki's pulse jumped. The memory flashed instantly: her bent over the counter, moaning his name, pussy clenching around him like she'd never let go.
His cock twitched in his loose sleep shorts, already stirring at the implication. He tried to play it cool, but his voice came out a little rougher than he wanted.
"I mean… I can't guarantee it'll work like that," he said, stepping closer anyway. "But… I can try."
Tsuyu didn't move away. She just watched him with those big, unblinking eyes as he lifted his hand slowly and pressed his palm flat to her forehead.
The moment skin met skin, she let out a long, quiet sigh—shoulders dropping, eyes fluttering half-shut. The tension visibly melted from her face, jaw loosening and brows smoothing out. A soft, relieved hum escaped her throat.
"That feels good," she murmured, her voice softer and breathier than usual. "Really good. The ache is… easing already."
Denki nodded, taking mental notes.
Okay. So it's not just a horny button. It relieves stress too. Tension. Headaches. That's kinda useful?
But then he noticed the rest.
Her breathing had shifted, becoming shallower and quicker. Little hitching inhales that made her chest rise and fall faster under the baggy shirt. Her nipples were fully hard now, poking visibly through the thin cotton like they were straining for attention. A faint flush spread down her neck, disappearing under the collar.
He swallowed hard.
No. Don't. Be careful. You shouldn't—don't do it!
But his cock was already fully hard, tenting the front of his shorts unmistakably.
The sight of her like this made it impossible to think straight. She looked so fucking sexy: sleepy eyes, flushed skin, hard nipples begging under the shirt, and that slow, heavy-lidded stare she was giving him now.
The same look she'd given him last night.
The same look he was slowly getting familiar with.
'Ah, don't look at me like that,' he thought desperately, even as his body leaned in. He closed the distance, cupped her face with both hands, and kissed her.
Soft at first, lips brushing hers like a question. She answered immediately, mouth opening under his, tongue sliding out to meet him. Long, flexible, and curling around his in a slow, wet slide that made his knees weak.
She tasted faintly of toothpaste and something sweeter, warmer—her lips plush and yielding, parting wider as the kiss deepened.
One of her hands came up to grip his wrist, holding his palm against her cheek like she needed the anchor. The other slid around his waist, fingers splaying across his lower back, pulling him flush against her.
The kiss turned hungry fast—teeth grazing, breaths mingling in hot little pants, soft moans vibrating between their mouths. Her tongue explored deeper, stroking the roof of his mouth, curling around his in a way that sent sparks straight to his cock.
Denki groaned low, pressing her back gently against the counter edge. His hard length throbbed against her stomach through their clothes, the heat of her body seeping through the thin shirt.
He could feel the way she trembled, tiny shivers running through her, thighs squeezing together like she was trying to ease the ache building between them.
When they finally broke apart, just enough to breathe, Tsuyu's eyes were dark, pupils blown, and lips swollen and shiny.
"Denki…" she whispered, voice thick with want. "Touch me more."
——
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