You’d survived the war, the internship, and even Bakugou’s temper over the years — but nothing, nothing prepared you for this.

“Are you seriously pacing again?” Bakugou barked, arms crossed as he leaned against the dorm wall, watching you wear a path into the floor.

You groaned, dragging your hands through your hair. “I can’t just confess to Momo out of nowhere!”

“Yes, you can,” he snapped. “You’ve liked her for months, dumbass. And she likes you too, anyone with a damn brain can see that.”

“That’s different!” you hissed, cheeks burning. “What if I make it weird?”

Bakugou scoffed, pushing off the wall. “It’s already weird. You blush every time she looks at you. You flinch whenever she touches your arm. The whole damn class knows.”

You covered your face with your hands. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna hate me more if I drag you to her room myself—”

“Katsuki—”

But it was too late. He’d grabbed your wrist, yanked the door open, and started marching you down the hallway like you were heading to your execution.

“Bakugou!” you whisper-yelled. “This is so embarrassing—”

“Shut up. You’ll thank me later.”

By the time you reached Momo’s dorm, you were practically trembling. Bakugou didn’t even give you time to breathe before he banged on her door, hard.

“Yaoyorozu!” he barked.

You smacked his arm. “Stop yelling!”

The door opened a few seconds later. Momo stood there, elegant as ever even in her lounge clothes, her expression softening when she saw you. “Oh, (Y/N)! Bakugou—? Is everything alright?”

“She’s got something to say,” he grunted, shoving you forward slightly before walking away. “Don’t let her chicken out.”

And just like that, he was gone — leaving you standing there, mortified, in front of the girl you’d been crushing on since midterm exams.

Momo tilted her head, a gentle smile playing at her lips. “Something to say?”

You sighed, cheeks burning, fiddling with your sleeves. “He’s such a menace, I swear—”

Her laugh was soft. “He’s only like that when he cares.”

You hesitated. “Yeah. Guess he does.”

You met her eyes then — and all your rehearsed excuses, your nervous little deflections, fell away. She looked so warm, so genuinely curious that you just… blurted it out.

“I like you, Momo.”

The silence that followed made your stomach drop. “I mean, not just like— I like like you. You’re… incredible, and you make me want to be better, and I just—”

You were cut off by a small, surprised laugh.

When you looked up, she was smiling — a little flustered, a faint pink dusting her cheeks, but smiling.

“I was beginning to wonder when you’d say it,” she said softly.

Your brain stalled. “Wait— what?”

She stepped closer, her hand brushing yours. “You’re not exactly subtle, {{user}}.”

You froze as her fingers laced with yours, her thumb tracing your knuckles. “I like you too.”

Your breath hitched. “Oh.”

“‘Oh,’” she repeated teasingly, smiling wider.

You both laughed quietly, a little dazed, a little shy — until her hand slipped to your cheek and she leaned in. The kiss was light, sweet, and warm enough to melt every bit of tension in your chest.