Zion sprawled on his dorm bed, the notebook in his lap a hit list: Todoroki, Mina, Momo—Quirks to steal; Ochaco, Mina, Tsuyu, Mirko, Midnight—girls to fuck. The pen scratched as he circled Momo's name, her Creation Quirk a goldmine for weapons, traps, anything he'd need to crush this world. His All-Seeing Eye had clocked her appeal at 30 during game night, her sweater hugging curves that made his dick twitch. Ochaco and Mina were half-hooked, Tsuyu warming up, but Momo? She was next, and he'd have her screaming in days.
UA's morning routine was a drag—classes, hero ethics, Aizawa's dead-eyed lectures—but Zion played the part, blending in while his mind churned. Momo sat two rows ahead, her posture perfect, black ponytail swaying as she took notes. Her uniform clung to her chest, her skirt teasing toned thighs. Fuck, she's built like a goddess, he thought, picturing her crafting something filthy just for him. His All-Seeing Eye pinged her stats:
<
Name: Momo Yaoyorozu
Age: 16
Quirk: Creation
Energy: 14
Endurance: 12
Strength: 10
Appeal (Attraction to Zion): 30
>
Thirty's a start, he smirked. His infinite appeal had cracked Midnight at 99; Momo wouldn't stand a chance.
Day one, he struck in the cafeteria, the air loud with tray clatters and Kirishima's laugh. Momo sat with Ochaco and Jiro, picking at a salad, her elegance screaming rich girl. Zion slid in beside her, tray piled with meat, grinning. "Yo, Momo, you ever make something fun with that Quirk? Like, what, a jetpack?" His voice was casual, but his eyes locked on hers, dripping charm.
She blinked, a faint blush on her cheeks. "A jetpack's impractical without fuel," she said, precise but curious. "I prefer utility—tools, shields." Her lips curved, warming to him.
"Bet you could make some wild shit," he said, leaning closer, his knee brushing hers under the table. "Gotta show me sometime." Her blush deepened, and his Eye caught it:
<
Appeal (Attraction to Zion): 35
>
Ochaco frowned, sensing the vibe, but Zion kept it smooth, joking with Jiro about music to cover his tracks. Momo's laugh, soft but real, was his first hook.
Day two, he targeted a group study session in the library, books strewn, sunlight glinting off shelves. Momo led, explaining Quirk physics, her confidence hot as hell. Zion sat across, pretending to care. "Damn, you're smart," he said, voice low, catching her off-guard. "Brains and that Quirk? You're dangerous, Momo." His grin was sin, and she faltered, tucking hair behind her ear.
"Dangerous?" she said, half-laughing, but her eyes lingered. "I just try to be useful."
"You're more than useful," he murmured, holding her gaze. "Bet you could make anything I want." The double entendre hit, her cheeks flaming, and the Eye pinged:
<
Appeal (Attraction to Zion): 40
>
Mina, nearby, smirked, whispering to Tsuyu, "He's got game." Deku, at the table's end, scowled, still sore from their spar. Zion ignored him, focusing on Momo's flustered smile, his dick stirring at the thought of her unraveling.
Day three, he upped the ante during a free period in the dorm common room, a mess of couches and snack crumbs. Momo was alone, sketching Quirk designs, her sweater tight over her breasts. Zion dropped beside her, arm brushing hers. "What's that, a bomb?" he teased, nodding at her sketch.
She laughed, relaxing. "No, a grappling hook. For rescue missions." Her voice was warm, her guard slipping.
"Rescue's cool, but I'd love to see you make something… personal," he said, voice husky, eyes roaming her body—chest, hips, thighs. "Like, something just for me." His hand grazed her wrist, light but deliberate, and she froze, breath hitching.
"Personal?" she whispered, eyes wide, but didn't pull away. The Eye flashed:
<
Appeal (Attraction to Zion): 50
>
Halfway there, he thought, backing off to keep her wanting. He chatted about her sketches, playing nice, but his mind was on her body, how she'd feel under him.
It was a long day by day process, but day four, he sealed it. After class, Momo lingered in the hall, adjusting her bag, her skirt swaying. Zion caught her alone, leaning against a locker. "You're killing me, Momo," he said, voice raw. "Smart, hot, that Quirk—I can't stop thinking about you." His charm was a sledgehammer, his eyes burning into hers.
She blushed, stammering, "Zion, that's… bold." But her body leaned toward him, her appeal spiking:
<
Appeal (Attraction to Zion): 70
>
"Come with me," he said, grabbing her hand, pulling her toward the second-floor toilets—a quiet spot, no cameras, stalls clean but private. She followed, hesitant but hooked, her breath quick. Inside, he locked the door, pinning her against the tiled wall, her eyes wide but hungry.
"You want this," he growled, lips inches from hers. She nodded, trembling, and he kissed her—hard, tongues clashing, her moan vibrating against him. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her breasts through her sweater, her nipples hard under his thumbs. She gasped, arching into him, her hands tugging his shirt.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he rasped, yanking her sweater off, her bra following, revealing full, heavy breasts that made him groan. He sucked one nipple, biting lightly, her moans loud, echoing off the tiles. Her skirt hit the floor, panties next, her thighs slick with want. Zion shed his shirt, pants, his cock hard and ready, her eyes widening at the sight.
"Zion," she panted, voice raw, "do it." He lifted her, her legs wrapping his waist, and thrust into her, her tight heat gripping him like a vice. "Fuck!" she cried, nails digging into his shoulders, her body shaking as he pounded, hard and relentless, the stall rattling. Her breasts bounced, her moans a mix of pleasure and desperation, urging him deeper.
He spun her, bending her over the sink, her hands bracing the edge, her ass perfect. He entered again, deeper, his hands gripping her hips, slamming into her with a rhythm that made her scream. "Harder!" she begged, voice breaking, and he obliged, each thrust shaking her core, her pussy clenching as she neared climax.
"Gonna cum," he growled, feeling it build, his pace brutal. Momo's moans hit a peak, raw and shattering, her orgasm ripping through her, her walls pulsing around him. "Zion!" she screamed, the sound bouncing off the walls as her body shuddered, thighs trembling. Her climax pushed him over, and he exploded inside her, hot and thick, filling her as she moaned harder, grinding back to take every drop, their bodies locked in a sweaty, trembling mess.
They collapsed against the sink, panting, her hair a mess, his chest heaving. Momo's eyes were hazy, her voice hoarse. "That was… unreal," she whispered, a shaky smile forming. Zion grinned, but his All-Seeing Eye caught a new stat:
Appeal (Attraction to Zion): 95
Almost owned, he thought, but a system ping hit, unexpected:
<
System Update –
Intimate Conquest Achieved: Momo Yaoyorozu
Reward: +15 Stat Points
>
He allocated them and his body surged, sharper, tougher, ready for more. But as he helped Momo dress, a shadow moved outside the door—a faint shuffle, then silence. Someone had been there, listening.
"Who's that?" Momo whispered, eyes wide, fear cutting through her afterglow. Zion's grin faded, his All-Seeing Eye scanning, but the hall was empty. Someone knew, and that could fuck everything.
…
<
Name: Zion
Age: 16
Quirk: All for One
Special Ability: All-Seeing eye, (locked)
Energy: 25
Endurance: 30
Strength: 25
Appeal: ∞
>
*****