___ The textbooks stay open, but neither of them is reading anymore.
One question about life after U.A.
turns their late-night study break into confessions, soft kisses in the kitchenette, and a hand-holding walk to Momo’s room where they finally stop pretending it’s just about studying.
___ The dorm common room had emptied hours ago.
Most of Class 1-A had retreated to their rooms, leaving only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of settling walls.
Izuku sat cross-legged on the floor, textbooks spread across the low table, his green curls catching the warm lamplight.
Momo knelt opposite him, her posture perfect even after three hours of reviewing hero law and rescue protocols.
“The key distinction,” Momo explained, tapping her pen against the margin of her notes, “is that Article 47 permits quirk usage in civilian rescue scenarios provided the hero has already declared their intent to intervene.” Izuku nodded, scribbling furiously.
“Right!
So if a civilian is trapped and the only way to reach them requires structural damage, the hero can justify it under the rescue clause rather than the destruction clause.” “Exactly.” Momo smiled, the expression small but genuine.
She leaned forward to point at a specific line, and Izuku caught the faint scent of her shampoo—something clean and floral that made his stomach tighten unexpectedly.
They’d been study partners for weeks now.
What started as mutual academic support had evolved into something quieter, more charged.
Izuku found himself noticing things: the way Momo’s fingers traced along the edge of her notebook when she was thinking, how her cheeks flushed slightly when she explained complex concepts, the soft sound she made when she discovered a particularly elegant solution.
“Midoriya-kun,” Momo said, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.
“You’re staring at the page but I don’t think you’re reading it.” Izuku’s face burned.
“S-sorry!
I was just…
thinking about the application.
The practical side.” Momo studied him for a moment, her dark eyes thoughtful.
“We’ve been at this for hours.
Perhaps we should take a break?” “Yeah, that sounds good.” Izuku set his pen down, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.
“My brain feels like it’s melting.” Momo stood gracefully, smoothing her skirt.
“I’ll make tea.
The kitchen should still have the good blend I brought last week.” She moved to the kitchenette, her movements precise and economical.
Izuku watched her go, noting the way her long ponytail swayed with each step.
When she bent to retrieve the kettle from a lower cabinet, her skirt rode up slightly, revealing a glimpse of pale thigh that made Izuku look away quickly.
“Do you take sugar?” Momo called over her shoulder.
“Just a little!” Izuku managed, his voice slightly higher than usual.
While the water heated, Momo returned to the table, settling beside Izuku rather than across from him.
The shift in proximity made the air feel thicker somehow.
“Midoriya-kun,” she said quietly, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.
About the training exercise last week.” “Oh?
Which part?” “When you used One For All at fifteen percent to clear the debris field.
Your control was remarkable, but I noticed you were favoring your left side afterward.
Were you injured?” Izuku blinked, surprised she’d noticed.
“It was nothing serious.
Just some muscle strain.
Recovery Girl fixed it up.” “You push yourself too hard.” Momo’s hand found his arm, her fingers warm through his sleeve.
“I worry about you sometimes.” The touch lingered longer than necessary.
Izuku could feel the heat of her palm, the slight pressure of her fingertips.
When she finally withdrew her hand, the absence felt significant.
“I worry about you too,” he admitted.
“During the joint training with Class B, when you created that massive shield…
you looked exhausted afterward.” “Creating on that scale takes a toll,” Momo acknowledged.
“But it’s worth it if it protects people.” The kettle whistled.
Momo stood to prepare the tea, and Izuku found himself following her to the kitchenette, drawn by some impulse he couldn’t quite name.
“Let me help,” he offered, reaching for the mugs.
Their hands brushed as they both reached for the same cup.
The contact sent a spark through Izuku’s nerves, and he pulled back quickly.
“Sorry!” “It’s alright.” Momo’s voice was soft.
She poured the tea with steady hands, but Izuku noticed a slight tremor in her fingers.
“Midoriya-kun, may I ask you a personal question?” “Of course.” “Do you…” She paused, choosing her words carefully.
“Do you ever think about what comes after?
After we graduate, after we become pro heroes?” “All the time,” Izuku admitted.
“I think about the kind of hero I want to be.
The people I want to save.” “And personally?” Momo handed him a steaming mug.
“Do you think about…
relationships?
Romance?” Izuku nearly dropped his tea.
“I—well—I mean, of course I think about it sometimes, but with everything going on, it’s hard to—” “I think about it too.” Momo’s admission was quiet, almost shy.
“More than I probably should, given our circumstances.” She set her mug down and turned to face him fully.
The kitchenette suddenly felt much smaller, the space between them charged with possibility.
“Momo-chan,” Izuku said, the honorific slipping out naturally, “what are you saying?” “I’m saying that I care about you, Midoriya-kun.
Not just as a classmate or study partner.
I care about you as…
more than that.” Her cheeks were pink now, her usual composure slightly frayed.
“And I believe you might feel the same way.” Izuku’s heart hammered against his ribs.
“I do.
I really do.
But I didn’t want to assume, or make things awkward, or—” Momo stepped closer, close enough that Izuku could see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes.
“May I kiss you?” The question was so direct, so perfectly Momo, that Izuku could only nod.
Her lips met his gently, a soft press that tasted like tea and possibility.
Izuku’s hands found her waist, steadying himself as much as her.
The kiss deepened slowly, Momo’s arms sliding around his neck as she pressed closer.
When they parted, both were breathing harder.
“That was…” Izuku started.
“Nice,” Momo finished.
“Very nice.” She kissed him again, more confidently this time.
Her hands moved to his chest, fingers splaying across his shirt.
Izuku pulled her closer, marveling at how perfectly she fit against him.
“We should…” Momo murmured against his lips, “go somewhere more private.” “Your room?” Izuku suggested.
Momo nodded, taking his hand.
They moved through the darkened dorm hallway, trying to be quiet but unable to stop smiling.
Momo’s room was neat and organized, just like her—books arranged alphabetically, study materials in color-coded folders, her hero costume hanging in the closet.
The door clicked shut behind them.
For a moment they just looked at each other, the reality of what they were doing settling in.
“Are you sure?” Izuku asked.
“I’ve been sure for weeks,” Momo replied.
She reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion.
Her bra was simple, practical—white cotton with a small bow between the cups.
But the sight of her bare midriff, the curve of her boobs, made Izuku’s mouth go dry.
He pulled off his own shirt, revealing the scars that mapped his journey with One For All.
Momo’s fingers traced one gently, her touch reverent.
“You’ve been through so much,” she whispered.
“So have you.” Izuku cupped her face, kissing her again.
This time there was more urgency, more heat.
Momo’s hands explored his chest, learning the planes of muscle and the texture of old wounds.
They moved to her bed, Momo sitting on the edge while Izuku knelt between her legs.
His hands found the clasp of her bra, and he looked up for permission.
“Please,” Momo said.
The bra fell away, revealing her boobs.
They were full and pale, the nipples a soft pink that hardened in the cool air.
Izuku’s hands cupped them gently, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks.
“Midoriya-kun,” Momo gasped, arching into his touch.
“Izuku,” he corrected.
“When we’re like this…
call me Izuku.” “Izuku.” The name sounded different on her lips—intimate, personal.
“And you should call me Momo.” “Momo.” He leaned forward, taking one nipple into his mouth.
Momo’s hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as he sucked gently.
Her skin tasted clean, slightly sweet, and the soft sounds she made drove him wild.
His free hand worked at her skirt, sliding it down her legs along with her underwear.
Momo lifted her hips to help, and soon she was completely bare before him.
“You’re beautiful,” Izuku breathed, taking in the sight of her.
The curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, the dark triangle of hair between her legs.
Momo reached for his belt, her fingers slightly clumsy with nerves.
Izuku helped her, and soon his pants joined the pile of discarded clothes.
His cock sprang free, hard and aching.
Momo’s hand wrapped around him, stroking experimentally.
“Is this okay?” “More than okay,” Izuku groaned.
He kissed her again, his hand sliding between her legs to find her wet and ready.
“Izuku,” Momo moaned as his fingers explored her.
“Please.
I want you.” He positioned himself at her entrance, pausing one more time to check.
“Are you sure?” “Yes.
Please.” He pushed inside slowly, giving her time to adjust.
Momo’s inner walls clenched around him, hot and tight.
When he was fully seated, he paused, forehead pressed against hers.
“You feel amazing,” he whispered.
“So do you.” Momo’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper.
“Move, Izuku.
Please.” He began to thrust, starting slow and building speed.
Momo met him thrust for thrust, her hands clutching at his back.
The bed creaked beneath them, but neither cared.
Izuku’s mouth found her breast again, sucking on her nipple while he fucked her.
Momo cried out, the dual stimulation overwhelming.
Her inner walls fluttered around him, and he could tell she was close.
“Momo,” he gasped, “I’m going to—” “Me too,” she moaned.
“Don’t stop.” They came together, Momo’s body arching beneath him as pleasure crashed through her.
Izuku buried his face in her neck, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her.
They lay together afterward, breathing heavily.
Izuku pulled Momo against his chest, his hand resting on her breast as they drifted toward sleep.
“That was…” Momo started.
“Perfect,” Izuku finished.
Momo smiled against his chest.
“We should probably study more tomorrow.” “Definitely,” Izuku agreed, already planning their next study session.