[Third person POV]
A/N: I posted the wrong chapter my bad bruh, 🤣
After the party had wound down and the guests had long since left, only Tony, Melissa, and Momo remained behind to clean up the aftermath. Though dozens of drones floated about, tidying the place with mechanical precision, it just didn't feel right to leave it all to machines. No matter how spotless the house looked under their care, there was something almost comforting about cleaning up your own home with your own hands.
Tony was pushing a mop along the hallway floor, heading in one direction, while Melissa and Momo worked on either side of him, walking in the opposite direction, chatting quietly as they went. The air between them was calm—until Tony broke the silence.
"We need to talk. About us, I mean—our relationship," Tony said suddenly, pausing as he leaned on the mop handle.
Melissa immediately gasped and held a hand to her chest, her voice dripping with dramatic flair. "Oh no! You've finally grown bored of the old model and fallen completely for the new one! And now you're going to discard me like yesterday's trash!"
Tony just stared at her blankly, utterly unfazed by the theatrics. He didn't say a word. He simply resumed mopping and passed them, his expression unreadable.
"..."
"Sorry," Melissa muttered sheepishly, raising a hand in surrender.
"This conversation is about you, you know," Tony said, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation.
Melissa groaned, already suspecting where this was going. Her body tensed slightly, her shoulders squaring up as if to brace herself for a verbal scolding.
"You shouldn't have done that," Tony said firmly, shaking his head. "You should've waited until Momo was ready to talk."
"I—it's fine," Momo interjected gently, waving a hand. "I know Melissa meant well. Her intentions were good—"
"That doesn't make it right," Tony cut in without raising his voice but with unmistakable firmness. "Good intentions don't erase someone else's boundaries. Momo said she wasn't ready to share with everyone yet. That should've been the end of it."
Melissa let out a sigh and leaned her weight against the broom in her hands. "He's right, Momo," she said, guilt lacing her voice. "Even if I didn't intentionally out you two, I also didn't stop it from happening when I could've. I was too caught up in the moment. I didn't think about how you'd feel. I'm sorry for putting you in that position."
Momo smiled softly, tilting her head. "It's alright. No real harm was done. I promise."
Melissa pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "Well… unless you count the spanking I got afterwards. My poor red tushy might disagree with you."
Tony scoffed, shaking his head as he moved a few chairs back into place. Momo giggled behind her hand.
"I'd say it was well deserved," both Momo and Tony said at the same time, surprising each other.
They shared a quick look and burst into laughter, exchanging a high five like two teammates celebrating a small victory.
Melissa blinked at them, deadpan. "Why do I feel like I'm being ganged up on here?"
As the three of them continued resetting furniture and clearing empty cups and plates, the tension eased. The house slowly began to feel like a home again.
Tony's voice broke the quiet once more. "Look, I'm not mad. We're still figuring this dynamic out—between the three of us. We're new to it. What you did wasn't some unforgivable sin, but it's something we've got to be more mindful of moving forward. Trust has to go both ways."
Melissa nodded slowly, taking the words to heart. She looked over at Momo, curiosity flickering in her gaze.
"So… are you planning on telling the others?" she asked. "So far, you've only really opened up to Uraraka and Asui."
Momo's smile turned slightly sheepish as she rubbed the back of her neck. "Not yet. I think I'll do it gradually, one person at a time. That way it won't feel so… overwhelming."
Melissa shrugged, tossing a stack of napkins into a trash bag. "Your call. Whatever makes it easier for you."
A few more minutes passed in companionable silence until Tony wiped his hands on a cloth and stood upright. "Alright, I'm heading down to finish the job Nezu assigned me. Don't wait up—I don't know how long it'll take."
Before either of them could respond, Tony was already making his way down the hall, descending the stairs toward his lab with strides.
…
The next day…
The classroom buzzed with energy. Laughter and chatter bounced off the walls, most of it centered around the party from the night before. Spirits were high, not just because of the celebration, but because everyone in Class 1-A had passed their exams.
Tony leaned against the windowsill at the back of the room, arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he listened to the banter. Sunlight poured in from behind him as he watched his classmates settle in. The door opened with a creak, and in came Bakugo, his usual scowl in place.
Tony gave a sharp whistle, catching his attention. "Yo. Over here," he called casually, reaching into his bag.
Bakugo raised an eyebrow, sauntering over with his usual firebrand attitude. Tony pulled out a sleek, rectangular metal case and handed it over.
"What's this?" Bakugo asked, narrowing his eyes as he took the box, inspecting it like it might explode.
Tony smirked. "The suit I promised you, obviously. What else would it be?"
Bakugo looked surprised, genuinely caught off guard. "Already? That was, like, what—Yesterday? It hasn't even been 24 hours"
"I'm efficient when I want to be," Tony replied, clearly proud of his speed and craftsmanship. "And I always keep my word."
Students nearby leaned in, curiosity taking over. Most of them had heard about the bet—Tony had promised Bakugo a customized combat suit. Given the result, everyone was eager to see what that looked like.
Bakugo set his bag down and opened the case on his desk. Inside were two black bracers—sleek, minimalist, and almost unassuming. His brows furrowed. "This is it?"
"Try them on," Tony encouraged, waving him on.
Bakugo hesitated for only a moment before slipping the bracers onto his forearms. As soon as they were secure, they tightened slightly, molding themselves perfectly to the contours of his arms. He raised an eyebrow, impressed by the fit.
"Now, just think about activating them," Tony explained. "They respond to your brain's electrical signals—same way your hand moves when you think about making a fist."
Bakugo narrowed his eyes and focused. Immediately, the bracers came to life. Fibers shot out from them, weaving rapidly around his body like living threads. The strands coiled around his school uniform, layering over it, forming a skin tight combat suit in seconds. The suit dulled the color palette of his usual explosions—sleek black and muted orange lines ran along his body. His hands were now gloved, and small, empty reactors were embedded in the palms.
The class stared in stunned silence.
"What does this do?" Bakugo asked, flexing his fingers and inspecting the transformation.
Tony leaned forward, eager to explain. "Here's the quick rundown—I'll send you the full specs later. First, those bracers aren't just decorative. They can morph into various energy weapons. Cannons, railguns, gauntlets—anything you can imagine, they can simulate."
Bakugo thought about it—and instantly, the bracers shifted, reshaping into compact energy cannons mounted on his arms. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Cool…" he whispered, awestruck.
Tony grinned, loving every second of the reaction. "It gets better. Your suit has two main absorption systems. First: shockwave conversion. When you launch a powerful explosion, instead of damaging your own arms from recoil, the suit absorbs that kinetic force and converts it into raw energy. That energy can then boost your physical strength temporarily."
"Second," Tony continued, "thermal energy absorption. Say you're caught in the middle of an explosion—yours or someone else's. Instead of taking damage, your suit absorbs the heat and energy, then channels it back into your reserves. You can even use your own blasts to power up in a loop."
Bakugo's eyes widened with every word.
"And then there's the utility belt," Tony added, pointing to it. "It's not just for storage. With stored energy, you can fabricate temporary tools—small throwing knives, bombs, landmines, traps. Imagine this: you charge a knife with your explosions, throw it at someone, and trigger it remotely. Boom. Instant ambush. You can set traps mid-fight. Basically, you've got a portable arsenal at your fingertips."
There was dead silence in the classroom. Everyone stared at Tony like he'd just casually handed Bakugo a nuclear warhead.
"That's… not even the best part," Tony said with a grin.
"THERE'S MORE?!" People blurted out from the back.
Tony pointed to Bakugo's back. "Constructed energy wings. Once activated, you can channel your explosions through them to propel yourself into the air. The more power you push through, the faster and higher you fly. You could practically hover, even dash midair."
At that moment, orange energy began sparking from Bakugo's palms as they crackled like firecrackers, flowing through the lines of his suit. The dull colors brightened, glowing like lava beneath the surface. He clenched his fists and began laughing—loud, wild, and absolutely thrilled.
"HAHAHAHA!!"
Kaminari leaned toward Jirou. "Dude… I think he broke him."
Bakugo raised his arms triumphantly. "I'LL BE UNSTOPPABLE! ALL YOU EXTRAS WILL STAY EXTRAS!"
Tony pinched his fingers together. "Maybe I went a little overboard... but hey, I never do a job half-assed."
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