MHA REINCARNATION!

The fluorescent lights of the campus bar buzzed overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow on the spilled beer and sticky tables. I remember the night like a hazy film, punctuated by Denki's easy laughter and the clinking of glasses. He'd insisted we celebrate finishing our midterms, and I, never one to refuse a night out with him, had readily agreed. We'd downed a few, maybe more than a few, and stumbled back to our dorm, the world tilting on its axis.

The next morning, I woke up with the worst hangover of my life. My head pounded, and a strange, unfamiliar ache pulsed low in my abdomen. I groaned, trying to reach for a glass of water on my nightstand, but my hand felt…small. I squinted at it, the fingers shorter and more delicate than I remembered. Panic flared in my chest. I threw back the covers and stared down at myself.

My breath hitched. My chest was…rounded. And there was no mistaking the smooth skin and slight curve of hips where there had once been the angles of my frame. I was a girl. Not just any girl, I was a girl. I scrambled out of bed, heart hammering against my ribs, and looked in the mirror. The face staring back at me was mine, but softer, the jawline less defined, the eyes framed by slightly longer lashes. Even my hair seemed a shade lighter.

I let out a strangled gasp, barely above a whisper. "What the hell…?"

Then the door swung open and Denki stood there, bed-headed and sleepy-eyed, yawning widely before his gaze landed on me. His jaw dropped, his eyes widening in disbelief. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat.

"Shinso?!" he finally managed, his voice thick with confusion. "What… what happened?!"

That was the beginning of the most bizarre week of my life. Denki, initially shocked into silence, quickly morphed into a whirlwind of protective worry. He never let me out of his sight, constantly checking if I was okay, grilling me with questions I didn't have answers to. He became possessive, his arm always around my waist, his hand always on my back, as if afraid I'd disappear. He was sweet, and I knew he meant well, but the constant attention was suffocating. It was like he was treating me like a delicate porcelain doll, something to be handled with extreme care.

Then there was the period. The pain was a deep ache, cramp-like, a foreign sensation that left me feeling weak and vulnerable. The blood was shocking, a stark reminder of the changes that had been thrust upon me. I holed myself up in our dorm, feeling completely alienated from my own body. But as the discomfort subsided, I began to notice subtle changes in myself, small shifts in how I perceived the world. I started paying more attention to my appearance, found myself drawn to softer fabrics, and even caught myself enjoying the way my hair fell around my face. It was like discovering a side of myself I never knew existed, a hidden part that was now blooming into the light.

One afternoon, Denki was gone, studying at the library, and I was alone in the dorm, trying to catch up on missed classwork. I was exhausted. The transformation had taken a toll, both physically and emotionally. I ended up falling asleep on the couch and my dreams quickly became a muddled mess of sensations. I was with Denki, but not the Denki I knew. This one was rougher, more demanding, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he thrusted into me. The dream was explicit, a raw depiction of pure, unadulterated lust. He would grab my clit with his hand and keep fingering it harshly making me moan in pleasure. The way he was fucking me felt intense I could feel myself coming again and again non stop.

I woke with a start, heart pounding, my body slick with sweat. My breath came in ragged gasps, my mind still reeling from the vivid images. In the mirror, I saw the flush on my skin, the desire still burning in my eyes. A strange ache pulsed between my legs, a nagging reminder of the pleasure I had experienced in my dream. Feeling reckless, I pulled up my sleep gown and ran a hand down my stomach to the soft triangle of hair that was now there. I touched myself there and stroked the small nub. My fingers found their way inside, and I began to move them, letting the dream guide my movements. My breath hitched, and my hips bucked against the couch as I reached my climax, the pleasure intense and overwhelming.

Just as my body shuddered, the door swung open and Denki stood there, his eyes wide with shock. He was carrying a study book, but it slipped from his grasp landing on the floor with a loud thud. But the shock in his gaze quickly shifted, morphing into a slow, predatory smirk. He walked towards me, a hunger burning in his eyes, and knelt in front of me.

"You look like you were having fun," he murmured, his voice husky. He took my wrist and gently pushed my hand out of the way as his head dipped down. His lips brushed against me, his tongue licking the small bud making me gasp, then he began sucking, the warmth of his mouth sending shivers down my spine. He ate me until I came again, my moans echoing in the room.

He shifted, straddling me, and then he entered me, pushing deep inside with a hard thrust, making me moan. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my nails into his back as he began to move, each thrust deeper, harder than the last. He kept fucking me, his rhythm relentless, until I was a mess of tangled limbs and gasping breaths, unable to climax any more. And then he moved his fingers back to my clit, rubbing it slowly as he continued to fuck me, the intensity escalating with every touch. He began to use light shocks from his quirk, hitting all my most sensitive spots, and I came again and again, the sensation so intense, so overwhelming, it was both thrilling and terrifying.

The world dissolved into a hazy blur of pleasure, a symphony of moans and gasps. When it was over, we were both spent, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths coming in shaky gasps. We collapsed onto the couch, limbs intertwined, hearts pounding against each other.

Denki turned to me, his eyes dark with an emotion I couldn't quite name. "That was…" he began, his voice raspy.

"Intense," I finished for him, my own voice barely a whisper.

He smiled, a genuine, soft smile, and his hand reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I lay there, content in his arms, a strange sense of peace settling over us. The week had been a rollercoaster of confusion and discovery, of fear and exhilaration. But in that moment, tangled together in the aftermath of passion, the world felt right. We had both stepped into the unknown, and somehow, we were still okay. More than okay. We had found a new path, a new way to exist, and together, we would navigate it, whatever the future held. We simply enjoyed the quiet.