The sun rose gently over Musutafu, spilling golden light into the modest home. The faint smell of jasmine and freshly brewed tea drifted through the air as Izuku stirred, feeling the warmth of last night still lingering.
Momo was already awake, kneeling beside the small breakfast table. The soft rustle of her uniform mixed with the subtle aroma of cooked rice, miso soup, and freshly cut fruit. She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with quiet affection, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Good morning, Izuku," she said softly, voice still husky from sleep.
"Morning…" he replied, voice low. His gaze lingered on her, noticing the slight blush creeping across her cheeks, the soft curve of her shoulders, the way her hair caught the morning light.
Breakfast passed with playful banter and small, intimate gestures: hand brushes, shared bites of fruit, the quiet warmth of proximity. The system hummed quietly in the background, noting proximity bonuses and early devotion metrics.
After breakfast, Momo cleared her throat. "Izuku…my mother…would like to have dinner with you tonight. I…would like you to come."
He blinked. "Dinner…at your house?"
She nodded, her gaze direct yet soft. "Yes. It's…important to my family, and I want you to meet them. Please, come."
He smiled faintly. "I…would be honored."
The rest of the morning passed in anticipation. Momo and her mother, Isabella, began preparing for the evening. The details were meticulous:
Momo:
Dress almost see-through but modestly cut, teasing yet elegant
Long hair brushed smooth, catching the light
Shivers of excitement ran through her as she adjusted the dress, knowing Izuku would notice
Isabella:
Dress tight as if painted on her skin, deep V-neck to her belly button, side slits showing her curves
N-cup breasts , exuding power and confidence
Flirtatious, teasing Izuku subtly as she prepared, sharing light banter with Momo
The two women moved through the home in playful rhythm: checking hair, adjusting dresses, teasing each other gently. Their perfume mingled—Momo's soft jasmine and Isabella's warmer, muskier scent—creating an intoxicating, inviting atmosphere.
Izuku watched quietly from the hallway, heart pounding, system sensors quietly humming. Proximity, teasing, and admiration caused devotion and fertility metrics to spike, noting the potential for future growth.
"Are you nervous?" Momo asked softly, stepping close, brushing her fingers across his arm.
"A little," he admitted, smiling. "But…more excited than anything."
Isabella appeared behind her daughter, adjusting a small cuff on Momo's dress. "You'll do fine. He's…different. You'll see."
The air between them hummed with anticipation. The evening dinner, the shared tension, the teasing and careful preparation—all of it was a slow, deliberate dance, building intimacy and devotion, leading naturally to the first real harem dynamics.
And as the final moments of the morning passed, Izuku realized: this was only the beginning of something far larger, far deeper, and far more intimate than he had ever imagined.