mmochammoss

[mmochammoss]

Ok I know I’ve got like ten-bajillion requests to get through but I’m thinking of turning my ‘nicknames’ fic into a whole series for all of the characters I usually write for (and any other mha characters yall comment or request) would yall be into that or just stick to other original ideas???

[mmochammoss]

Ida x reader where reader is absolutely chaotic and lowkey doesn’t respect authority lmfao (lots of fluff and funnys please!!!) :)

HOLY COW IM BEHIND ON REQUESTS🫠🫠🫠 but thank you anyways anon and so sorry for the wait!!!! This is a cute set up actually i just feel like Iida’s always getting put through something on this account😭😭😭

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A little chaos

There was something kind of beautiful about the way Iida’s voice went up a full octave when he was stressed.

You didn’t mean to make a game out of it at first. But you couldn’t help yourself. You had never been the type to willingly listen to authority or follow rules. And as class rep, that drove Iida absolutely crazy. Unfortunately for both of you, you soon realized something: the fluster in his voice, the urgency in his footsteps, the passionate way he waved his arms when trying to correct your behavior, you thought it was kind of… cute.

Very cute, actually.

So you quickly made it a habit. Not out of malice, but out of affection. You weren’t actively trying to destroy property or violate school policy. You just wanted a little attention. His attention. Even if it came in the form of dramatic finger-pointing and frustrated sighs.

He always caught you, always redirected you, and always reminded you that your careless behavior and ridiculous antics would get you, or someone else, hurt. But you never listened. Or maybe you did, and you just didn’t care. Or maybe it was a little bit of both. Who knew? All Iida knew was that you were taking years off of his life daily, and something had to give.

So, naturally, he set his sights on finding a solution. A fix. Between chasing you around campus and lecturing you on personal responsibility, he spent the remainder of his time researching how to ‘get through to you.’

After a brutal internal audit and several long nights spent scouring behavioral psychology journals titled things like ‘Attention-Seeking Behavior in Adolescents and How to Redirect It’, Iida came to a conclusion:

You weren’t just chaotic. You were strategically chaotic. And for some reason, only around him.

So he did what any responsible student council representative would do. Kept up with his behavioral psychological advice and moved onto his last potential solution.

Removing all negative reinforcement. Or to put it in simpler terms:

He began ignoring you.

That was the day you realized he had stopped.

At first, it was subtle. No stern verbal correction when you talked back to Present Mic during English. No lecture when you chucked mashed potatoes at Mineta during lunch. Not even a disapproving sigh when you began loudly playing music from your phone on the walk back to the dorms at the end of the day.

He didn’t even look at you.

You tested him harder. Bigger stunts. Louder antics. Higher stakes.

But still… nothing.

Your hallway hijinks gave way to full-blown tantrums. If you weren’t teasing, you were sulking. If you weren’t pranking, you were stomping. You hated how invisible you felt. You hated how distant he was being. And worst of all? You missed his voice. His nagging. His scolding. His lecturing.

You missed him.

And you planned on getting his attention one way or another. You just had to raise the stakes.

So you concocted another stupid idea to get back on his radar. It wasn’t supposed to be too crazy, just a “harmless” attempt to make spicy caramel popcorn using Kaminari’s modified microwave setting and your own “secret sauce.” Something sparked. Something popped. And then—bam. Burned hand. Tears. Screaming.

You were barely keeping it together when Iida came rushing into the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about. He was at your side in seconds, already assessing the damage before moving to grab the first floor first-aid kit. Worry carved into every line of his face.

“Come with me,” he said stiffly, voice low but firm, like he was still just barely trying to acknowledge what you’d done.

Which only set you off more.

He sat you down gently on the common room couch, propping up your hand with practiced precision. His jaw was tight. His eyes didn’t meet yours. He treated your burn like a good hero would. Carefully, efficiently, coldly. Like you were any anonymous civilian in need.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” you asked, your voice cracking. “You’ve been acting like I don’t even exist and…and I—if you don’t care about me anymore, then just say so…”

“Stop.”

His voice sliced through the air.

You froze.

He finally looked up at you, eyes blazing behind his glasses. “Do you think this has been easy for me? Do you have any idea how hard it is to be class representative with someone like you turning the dorms into a circus every week?”

You bit your lip but didn’t interrupt.

“I told you time and time again your behavior would get you hurt. And now it has. And I’m…” he faltered, exhaling hard. “I am furious. But not with you. With myself. Because I let it get this far.”

“Iida…” You mumbled.

“I stopped paying attention to you because I thought it would help. I thought if I didn’t reward your antics with scolding, you’d stop. I thought I was doing the right thing. But clearly, I was wrong. Because now you’re hurt, and you’re crying, and I hate seeing you like this.”

“You care?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Of course I care,” he barked, as if the question offended him. “How could I not? You’re… you.”

You lunged forward before you could stop yourself, flinging your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “It’s not all your fault. Well, maybe a little. But mostly mine.”

He hesitated. “What do you mean?”

You pulled back slightly, cheeks burning. “I… I like when you yell at me.”

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” you said sheepishly. “I like your voice. And the way you wave your arms. And how dramatic you get when you’re flustered. I just… I like all of it. I like you. So I guess I acted out a lot because it was the easiest way to get you to talk to me.”

He stared, glasses slipping slightly down his nose. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“Wait,” he said slowly. “You… like me? Romantically?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “God, Tenya, yes. Obviously. That’s why I’ve been such a dumbass.”

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then nodded, resolute as ever.

“Well. That does explain several things,” he murmured, pulling you back into a cautious hug. “I feel the same way. If that’s not already apparent.”

You laughed, melting into his arms. “So… I guess I should stop being a little jerk around campus now, huh?”

“I’d greatly appreciate it,” he said, sighing into your embrace a bit.

“But I hope you know I’m not gonna stop completely,” you teased. “I mean… you can handle a little chaos, right?”

“A part of me expected as much,” he sighed. “Just, please. Try not to set anything on fire again.”

“Only if you promise to keep yelling at me when I do.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his usual stern expression softening.

“Deal.”

[mmochammoss]

hello!!! So I have an idea but you totally don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna. It’s fluff dw!!! Nothing weird. 🫶🫶

So basically reader and character are on some some of mission and they have to act natural so they don’t get caught where they aren’t meant to be (if that makes sense). Anyway, so reader says “Can I kiss you” that’s the first distraction they think of! So yeah :))

Also if you could write this for multiple characters that would be great, maybe even a pt2??? If not that’s alg!!! I’d really like Bakugo, Shoto, Izuku, Shinso please. If you don’t do some of these characters it’s algs as well.

This is a cute set up lol. Sorry that the Izuku one is a bit longer I’m just loving writing for him rn idk why😶‍🌫️

let me know if you’d want any of these blurbs expanded on into a full fic.

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Undercover

Izuku Midoriya

The festival was loud, bright, and packed with people, which made it perfect cover for a covert surveillance op. Lanterns swayed in the warm breeze, string lights blinked overhead, and the scent of fried food mixed with the smoke from sparklers handed out to giddy kids. You adjusted the yukata the agency had you wear and leaned into Izuku’s side, laughing softly to keep up appearances. He looked painfully handsome in his dark blue one, little gold firework patterns embroidered into the sleeves, cheeks flushed from the heat or nerves. Probably both.

It was your first mission together. Your first undercover gig. And of course they paired you with the Izuku Midoriya. The pro hero who was basically sunshine in human form. The pro hero you’d had a quiet, heart-clenching crush on since the second week of training.

“Target’s moving toward the sweets stand,” Izuku murmured, voice low and steady in your ear. “Red yukata, left hand in his sleeve. Confirmed capsule swap with the guy in the bucket hat.”

You nodded, stepping closer like you were leaning in for a couple’s photo. “We’ve almost got what we need. But he’s looking this way. We need to blend in better.”

Izuku’s eyes flicked down to yours, wide and nervous. “Blend in��� how?”

“Can I kiss you?” you asked, the words out before you could stop them. Your heart thudded loud in your ears. “It’ll sell the couple angle. He’s watching us.”

You expected hesitation. Maybe even a stammer or a flustered head shake. But instead, Izuku’s gaze softened and he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. “Yeah… yeah, of course you can.”

You cupped his face and leaned in, the soft cotton of his yukata sleeve brushing your arm. His lips met yours in a tentative, breathless kiss. Gentle and sweet, like he didn’t want to push. But you felt the tension melt from his shoulders the second your hand slid into his curls. He sighed against your mouth like he’d been waiting for an excuse to do this all night.

When you pulled back, his eyes were still closed for a second too long. Then he blinked, swallowing hard, cheeks impossibly red. “I, uh… I think it worked,” he mumbled.

You looked back toward the target. Gone. But you didn’t mind the delay.

“Maybe we should stick together more often,” you said, trying to keep your tone cool. Izuku smiled softly, but with a spark in his eyes now.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I’d like that.”

————————————————————————

Katsuki Bakugo

You could smell the stale beer and cheap cologne the second you walked in. Neon signs buzzed like mosquitoes, pool balls clacked against green felt, and the bartender looked like he’d seen at least two stabbings this week. Classic dive bar. Classic scumbag hangout. Classic place to corner your target, who just so happened to be nursing a whiskey two stools down.

And unfortunately, classic Bakugo pretending to hit on you like he was auditioning for the sleaziest role in a romcom. He leaned against the bar, one hand casually grazing your thigh as he dragged his stool closer, voice pitched loud enough for your mark to hear. “C’mon, sweetheart, you been eye-fuckin’ me since I walked in here.”

You shot him a glare, swatting his hand off your leg. “You wish,” you muttered through gritted teeth, sipping your watered-down cocktail. “Tone it down, asshole.”

He smirked like he’d just won a game you didn’t know you were playing. “What? I’m selling it. That’s the job, ain’t it?” His voice dropped lower, gravelly now. “Unless you want our guy to clock us both.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing past him to confirm your target was, indeed, watching. Great. You couldn’t risk a scene. Couldn’t risk calling Bakugo out or storming off. So instead… you flipped the script. You shifted on your stool, letting your leg brush against his. Let your fingers trail up his arm as you smiled. Too sweet, too dangerous.

“You’re right,” you said, tilting your head. “We gotta sell it.”

Before he could ask what the hell you were doing, you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Hot, sudden, and thoroughly disarming. His lips parted in surprise, just enough for you to deepen it slightly before pulling away with a wicked grin. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open like he couldn’t decide whether to kiss you back or yell at you.

You leaned in close, just for him. “Relax,” you whispered, breath brushing his jaw. “I’m just playing along. For the mission.”

The flush in his cheeks said otherwise.

————————————————————————

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto was calm. Always calm. Even now, walking beside you through a gilded ballroom full of politicians, black-market brokers, and dignitaries from across the world, he looked composed. But you could feel it in the way his fingers flexed at his side, in the sharp flick of his gaze. He was tense. The mission had called for subtlety. Surveillance. Infiltration. Neither of you expected to be split from your pro hero team so early in the night, nor to end up face-to-face with the target’s security forces. You were supposed to be waitstaff. Unimportant. Invisible. Until someone recognized your face.

“They’re coming over,” you murmured, shifting closer to Shoto, champagne flutes still balanced perfectly on your tray. “If they see us standing here, looking suspicious…”

He glanced at you. “We could pretend to be having a private conversation. Or I could freeze them and we run.”

“Not subtle enough,” you muttered, heat blooming in your chest as you searched for a distraction. And then the words tumbled out, soft and breathless: “Can I kiss you?”

Todoroki blinked. “Right now?”

“I just need a distraction. Something they won’t question,” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything. Just reached up, brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and leaned in. The kiss was gentle, practiced, almost too natural. One hand slid to your waist, holding you steady, and the other rested lightly at your jaw. It was the kind of kiss that didn’t demand attention, but it could steal it all the same. You felt him exhale through his nose as you pressed closer, and when he finally pulled away, his cheeks were faintly pink.

“They’re gone,” he said, voice low. But his hand stayed on your waist. “Next time, maybe give me a little more warning.”

You smiled, breath hitching. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“I wasn’t,” he murmured, finally letting go.

————————————————————————

Hitoshi Shinsou

“Don’t look now,” you whispered, sliding closer to Shinsou at the high-top bar, “but I think the guy by the roulette table just made us.”

Shinsou didn’t glance up. Just stirred his untouched drink with the little gold pick the bartender had left in it, violet eyes flicking to the wall of reflective glass ahead, subtle surveillance. “Tux guy in the navy suit?”

“Yep,” you muttered, fingers brushing his under the table. “He’s been tailing us since we left the security office. You think he’s a scout?”

“Probably. Or a very dedicated creep.” His voice was low, lazy as always, like he was talking about the weather and not your current identities as ‘new money’ high-rollers with security clearance you absolutely did not have.

“We need a distraction,” you said, heartbeat picking up. The tension was mounting. The cameras weren’t going to keep you safe forever.

Shinsou finally looked at you, his gaze slow and dark. “What kind of distraction?”

You turned toward him, tried to smile like you were love-drunk and not in full mission mode. “Can I kiss you?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just leaned in and said, “You better.”

His lips met yours in a way that surprised you, careful but confident, like he’d been waiting for this. His hand slid to your thigh under the table, anchoring you, guiding you into him. You kissed like you were alone, like no one was watching, like this was the kind of thing you’d done a hundred times before. The lights glinted off his earrings, the bass of the casino’s house band thudding beneath your skin.

When you finally broke apart, his eyes stayed on you, lidded and amused. “I think tux guy got the message,” he murmured.

You smirked. “You did that on purpose.”

Shinsou shrugged, fingers still resting on your thigh. “What? The cover’s important.”

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Request are open!! <3

[mmochammoss]

First of all I need you to know your writing is *CHEF’S KISS* 🩷. I love a good fantasy au! Can I request a fic where Shouto is a prince who is destined to marry a princess from a neighboring kingdom…but he’s accidentally fallen in love with the reader who tends the garden? Forbidden love is always dope!

Wait I loved this concept yall are too creative🥹🤍🤍————————————————————————

Forgotten Flowers

Todoroki hated the palace gardens.

The hedges were trimmed with royal precision. The pathways swept clean by servants with gloved hands. Every rose, lily, and marigold placed with the exactness of someone trying too hard to mimic beauty instead of letting it grow naturally. It was a place designed to impress foreign diplomats and delight the nobility. But to Todoroki, it was nothing but a painful, fragrant reminder of someone long gone.

When he was little, he used to sneak into those very gardens with dirt-stained hands, plucking tulips and forget-me-nots with clumsy fingers. He’d bring them to his mother in secret, laying them in her lap during rare moments of calm. She always smiled, running gentle fingers over the petals as if they were made of glass. “You always bring me the prettiest ones,” she used to whisper.

And then she was gone.

Exiled for treason. Banished for disobeying the king. Stripped of her name and honor.

After that, he stopped picking flowers.

He stopped looking at them altogether.

By the time he turned sixteen, the king had other plans for him. “You are no longer a boy,” his father had said, voice echoing in the great hall. “You are a prince, and it’s time you thought about your legacy.”

His “legacy,” of course, meant marriage. Political alliance. Status. Bloodlines.

He was to be engaged to Lady Momo Yaoyorozu of the neighboring kingdom, a noblewoman with a brilliant mind and a bloodline so pure his father practically drooled over their combined potential. They’d never met, but Todoroki already knew how it would go. Polite conversation. Measured silences. Duty dressed up like romance.

It would be fine.

It had to be.

And then, around the same time as the engagement announcement, something changed in the garden.

The staff said it was a new royal appointment a gifted horticulturist with a mind for hybrid blooms and dramatic layouts. Todoroki didn’t care. Not until the quiet corners of the grounds started bursting with color. Wild violets crept up old stone trellises. Orange marigolds spilled over courtyard paths like tiny suns. Even the air seemed sweeter.

He hated it.

The gardens had always been a place of painful stillness. A monument to things lost. And now they were alive again. Mocking him.

After a week of gritted teeth and avoiding his usual paths, he decided he’d had enough.

If this new botanist thought they could go around rearranging the kingdom’s landscape like it was a spring parade float, they were sorely mistaken.

He was going to give them a royal command to cut it out.

He stormed down the gravel path that led to the garden’s edge, expecting to find an old, sun-weathered master with soil under their nails and a voice like rust.

Instead, he found you.

You knelt beneath the shade of an arching wisteria tree, sunlight pooling in the folds of your sleeves as you coaxed new growth from the soil. You didn’t notice him right away. Your hands moved with a rhythm he couldn’t name.

It stopped him in his tracks.

You looked… serene.

Beautiful.

Not at all what he was expecting.

When you finally looked up, your eyes widened in alarm, then softened with practiced grace. You bowed quickly, sinking to your knees with your head bowed low. “Your Highness,” you greeted, voice light but respectful. “I hope the latest displays have been to your liking.”

He blinked. “You’re the new gardener?”

You nodded, still kneeling. “The palace botanist, yes. Appointed last month by royal invitation.”

Right. His father had probably signed the papers without telling him. Another decision made in his name.

Todoroki cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his boots. “They’re… not to my liking. I don’t care for flowers.”

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you looked up at him with calm, steady eyes. “I’m very sorry to hear that, my lord. If you tell me what you’d prefer instead, I’ll adjust the plantings immediately.”

You were still kneeling, hands folded in your lap, looking up at him with sincere deference. It was the kind of image that should’ve made him feel powerful.

It didn’t.

It made him flustered.

And, for reasons he didn’t care to unpack, very warm.

He stared for a moment too long, then huffed, turned on his heel, and stormed off without another word.

The truth was, he had no idea what he wanted planted instead.

All he knew was that your flowers made the palace grounds feel like memories again.

And you, the quiet gardener with dirt under your nails and sunlight in your hair, had no business being so breathtaking.

Todoroki tried to stay away from the gardens after that. He really did.

But it was difficult when every window on the south side of the palace looked out over them. When every morning, he passed by long corridors dusted with the scent of newly bloomed jasmine and honeysuckle. When every time he stepped onto the training grounds, he could see you, sometimes crouched over a flowerbed, sometimes dragging a watering can almost as tall as you, always moving with that same quiet confidence.

It was annoying.

Distracting.

He told himself that was all it was. A distraction. A thorn in his side. You were simply a new addition to his otherwise predictable world, and that was bound to pull focus.

But when he started asking the guards about you, just to “keep an eye on things,” he claimed, he knew he was lying.

He wasn’t keeping an eye on the garden.

He was keeping an eye on you.

He watched from behind drapes, from across balconies, from the shadows of towering bookshelves that looked out over the courtyard. You didn’t seem to notice. Or if you did, you didn’t let on.

Which only made it worse.

Then, of course, his father decided to ruin it all.

“The Yaoyorozus are arriving this afternoon,” the king declared one morning over a table of half-eaten fruit and official documents. “Lady Momo and her father will be staying through the weekend to discuss arrangements for your betrothal.”

Todoroki didn’t respond.

He just folded his hands neatly in his lap and focused on the raspberries on his plate. They tasted like ash in his mouth.

The carriage arrived precisely on time, polished silver and obsidian wheels glinting in the noon sun. Momo stepped out in a gown of pale lavender silk, her hair pinned up in soft waves, her smile polite but shy. Her father followed close behind, straight-backed and well-spoken, with a voice like velvet and eyes always calculating.

The king greeted them warmly. Too warmly.

Todoroki said nothing.

He gave Momo a courteous bow and offered her his arm. She took it, her fingers delicate and light on his forearm. She smelled like gardenias.

“I thought,” the king said, voice full of false benevolence, “you might enjoy a private lunch in the garden. Something scenic. Familiar. To help you both become… better acquainted.”

Todoroki felt his stomach twist.

Momo smiled. “That sounds lovely, Your Majesty.”

And just like that, the picnic was arranged.

The garden looked… stunning.

Of course it did.

The blankets had been laid near the koi pond, shaded by the gentle arc of a plum blossom tree. Silver platters of pastries and fruit rested on linen cloth, alongside porcelain teacups painted with gold vines. A breeze carried the scent of lavender and marigold.

Everywhere he looked there was color.

Your color.

He couldn’t focus. Not on the pastries. Not on Momo’s careful questions. Not even on the way the breeze kept brushing her curls over her shoulder. His eyes kept straying. His ears kept straining for the faintest sound of movement through the leaves. He thought he caught a glimpse of you near the garden wall once, just a blur of soft fabric and movement, but by the time he blinked, you were gone.

Momo tilted her head and smiled gently. “Is everything alright, Prince Todoroki?”

He forced a polite smile. “Yes. Just… appreciating the view.”

She followed his gaze, admiring the sprawling beds of summer bloom. “The garden is beautiful. I’ve never seen so many varieties arranged like this.”

He blinked. “Yes. It is.”

She beamed. “You must really enjoy it. To organize such a lovely setting for our lunch.”

He stiffened. “Pardon?”

“I was told you arranged the picnic.” She looked genuinely touched. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

He opened his mouth to correct her, but—

“Your Highness?”

You stood just behind them, bouquet in hand, hair pulled back with a simple ribbon. There was dirt under your nails, a smear of pollen across your forearm, and a bouquet of wildflowers resting delicately in your hands.

He tensed.

You curtsied low, then turned to Momo with a warm smile. “A gift, milady. From the prince himself. Wild asters, baby’s breath, and a few rare bellflowers, his personal selection.”

You offered her the bouquet and a perfect bow.

Momo blinked in surprise. “Oh! Thank you. They’re lovely.”

You smiled. “He also selected the tea you’re enjoying. Brewed with blue mint from the northern beds. Very rare, very fragrant.”

Todoroki stared at you, mouth parted in disbelief. You didn’t look at him. Not once.

You curtsied again and disappeared into the foliage.

Momo looked pleased, cheeks touched with color. “You’re more thoughtful than I expected, Shoto.”

He didn’t answer. He just stood, offered her a hand, and walked her back toward the palace.

But not before shooting one last look over his shoulder.

He found you near the far edge of the garden.

Of course he did. You always seemed to vanish just when he started to feel too many things, only to reappear when he was close to boiling over. This time, you were crouched beside a half-finished bed of loose soil, quietly pressing seeds into the earth. Your hands moved with methodical care, sleeves rolled up, dirt smudged across your knuckles like paint.

He hated how lovely you looked. He hated how soft his footsteps felt on the grass as he approached. He hated the way his chest still fluttered with residual warmth from the smile you’d given Momo.

But mostly, he hated the bouquet.

“You disobeyed me,” he said sharply.

You didn’t jump. You didn’t flinch. You just looked up at him with that infuriatingly calm expression, sunlight catching the edge of your cheek.

“Your Highness,” you said gently. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He crossed his arms. “I made myself clear. I told you to stop planting. I told you to stop interfering.”

“And I apologized,” you said, standing and dusting off your hands. “But I thought perhaps the garden might be of some use to you today.”

He scowled. “That wasn’t your call to make.”

He was right. You looked down, ashamed to need his eyes now. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

“Oh really?” His voice rose slightly. “You gave her flowers. Told her they were from me. You brewed tea and told her I selected it. You made me look like some… romantic fool.”

He hadn’t meant to say that last part. It slipped out before he could catch it. But you tilted your head, a flicker of curiosity and amusement in your eyes.

“She liked them,” you said. “She was smiling the whole time.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Isn’t it?” you asked softly.

He stiffened. “You had no right.”

You paused, eyes scanning his face. Something shifted in your expression then, something less amused, more thoughtful. More serious.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” you said. “But if I overstepped… I’m sorry.”

He said nothing.

“I just wanted to give you both something to talk about. Something beautiful to share.”

“I told you,” he muttered. “I don’t like flowers.”

“Why?”

He blinked. “What?”

You stepped forward slightly, the hem of your dress brushing against the grass. “You said you hated them. But you didn’t say why.”

“It’s not your concern.”

“Maybe not,” you said. “But I’m asking anyway.”

He hesitated.

Then exhaled, long and low, like the air was being pulled from his ribs.

“My mother,” he said finally. “She used to love them. I’d sneak them to her when I was a child. When my father was busy with my training, I’d run out here and gather anything I could. I thought if I brought her something pretty, she’d… stay happy.”

Your eyes softened.

“But then she was gone. Banished. And the flowers were still here. Still blooming like nothing happened. And every time I saw them, I remembered what I’d lost.”

He looked down at his hands, at the faint tremble in his fingers.

“So I hated them. I swore I’d never pick another flower again.”

The silence between you was soft. Not heavy, just full.

You stepped closer.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Your voice was quiet now. “Then why are you telling me?”

He didn’t answer.

Not right away.

But when he looked up at you again, his eyes were glassy. And tired. And full of something raw that hadn’t yet found a name.

“Because… I think I want to like them again,” he said. “Someday.”

You smiled a soft and sad smile.

And when you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Then I’ll keep planting them then. Just in case.”

You turned, gathering your basket and tools, brushing loose petals off your apron. He watched you move, watched you walk a few paces before you glanced back at him one last time.

“I hope that one day,” you said gently, “you’ll want to pick flowers for someone else you love.”

He said nothing.

But later that night, when you returned to your chambers, your door creaked open with the scent of rain and roses.

And resting on your pillow, bright and fresh and a little crushed from the journey, was a single crimson rose.

————————————————————————Requests are open!! <3

[mmochammoss]

Yall I’ve been slacking so baaad finals week has been whooping me like crazy

So to make up for it I’m gonna try and post 2 requests everyday for the next 3 days!!

Let’s get itttttt

[mmochammoss]

Omg your without you fic killed me😭 I need some more Shoto content pls. Smth like same as that vibes hurt/comfort with a mix of smut. ILYYY and thanksss

My kind of vibe 🙂‍↕️🤏🏾————————————————————————

The Morning

Shoto Todoroki works hard, sometimes too hard, like tonight.

He was called in to deal with a high-stakes rescue mission and felt as though he was only barely able to save the civilians who were caught up in the danger. As a hero, he knows he shouldn’t let close calls like these weigh too heavily on his mind. He couldn’t. But sometimes, he just couldn’t help it. And tonight is one of those nights.

You’d been home, watching everything unfold on the news, heart climbing into your throat each time the footage replayed on the tv. The cityscape decorated with flashing emergency lights, the buildings collapsing, the panicked civilians. And then, finally, the flash of ice and fire as Todoroki arrived on the scene.

By the time he walked through the front door of your shared apartment, the energy around him was heavy. You don’t need to ask how it went. You already knew. You could practically feel it.

He was quiet. Shoulders tense. Still in his hero costume that was now wrinkled and dusty in some places, streaked with soot and faint marks of the rescue. You barely had to say his name before he was wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says softly.

You shake your head, stroking his hair. “You’re not late, you’re home. And that’s all I care about.”

You press a kiss to his lips and take his hand, leading him gently toward the bathroom.

“Come on, hero,” you murmur. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You don’t try to ask him about the mission. Not yet at least. His complete silence spoke volumes to you. Todoroki was by no means the talkative type, but you’d been together long enough to know when his silence was circumstantial. Instead, you helped him strip off his costume piece by piece, scorched fabric sliding down his arms and falling to the floor with a soft clatter. His body was warm under your fingertips, tense and worn thin. He lets you undress him without a word, eyes heavy with something unreadable.

Once the last of his gear is set aside, you guide him into the shower. The water is already running for and you test it once more before pulling him in with you.

Todoroki stands still at first, head bowed beneath the stream. The water trails over his shoulders, down his chest, carrying soot and stress with it. You reach for the washcloth and lather it with your favorite gentle body wash, then move to clean him slowly and carefully.

He exhales when you press it to his skin, a quiet sound, like he’s been holding his breath since he left the agency just hours ago.

You wash his arms, his chest, the curve of his back. You drag your fingers through his damp hair, rinsing the strands clean. You kneel down to gently scrub away the grime clinging to his legs. Not once does he stop you. Not once does he say anything beyond the occasional soft ‘thank you.’

You’re not expecting him to. This isn’t about conversation. This is about being there for him when you know he needs you most. Being his calm in the storm.

Once he’s clean and the steam has started to fade from the room, you help him out of the shower and wrap him in a towel. You dry his hair gently with another, then guide him back to the bedroom where you search for a pair of fresh pajamas for you both.

He dresses slowly, like his body is heavier than usual. Like the weight of everything he carried today is still clinging to his skin.

You pull on your own clothes. Some soft cotton shorts, and an oversized t-shirt. You climb into bed, lifting the covers so he can join you.

The second he’s under the blankets, you reach for him. He shifts into your arms like it’s the only place he wants to be. You press him close, tuck his head under your chin, and begin stroking his back in soft, slow motions.

“You did so amazing today, my love,” you whisper against his hair. “I watched the whole thing. You saved so many people today, Shoto. You were incredible.”

His arms wrap tighter around your waist at the compliments. You keep going.

“They made it home. You made it home. You’re a hero. You’re my favorite hero.”

He doesn’t say anything. But you feel the way his breathing shudders. The way his shoulders finally start to relax.

“I’m so proud of you, love,” you murmur. “Always.”

His voice is hoarse when it finally reaches your ears. “I almost wasn’t enough today.”

You stroke his hair. “You know that’s not true. You were enough. You’re always enough.”

He pulls you closer, like he’s trying to disappear into your touch. You hold him as long as he needs, whispering soft reassurances until his body finally starts to go limp with sleep, breaths evening out against your chest.

You kiss the top of his head one last time, and let your eyes slip shut, too.

Wrapped up in each other, safe and warm, you drift off together.

As the morning approaches the light that filters through the curtains is soft and golden. The sun, slow and quiet, warms your room in a way that makes everything feel gentle.

You wake up before he does.

Todoroki is still curled against you, arm slung around your waist, breath warm where it fans across your collarbone. His face is peaceful now, completely relaxed. The tension that gripped him last night finally gone. You smile to yourself, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

He stirs a little when your fingers graze his skin. A slow blink, a sleepy hum.

“Morning, lovey,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his temple.

His voice is low and raspy. “Mm. Morning my love.”

You smile at the sound of the pet name, glad that he’s feeling like himself again.

He doesn’t move from your arms. If anything, he snuggles in closer. You let your hand lazily drift up and down his back, still coming out of your own sleep. “You slept okay?”

Todoroki nods into your shoulder. “Because of you.”

Your heart warms a little at that. “I’m glad.”

There’s a quiet pause as he breathes you in, content and still half-asleep.

Then he says, soft but certain, “I don’t think I could do any of this without you.”

You blink, caught a little off guard by the weight of his words.

“Yes you could,” you reply gently. “You’re so strong, Shouto. You can do anything.”

His hand tightens around your waist. “I’m strong because I know you’re here, at home waiting for me.”

You can’t say anything to that. Not at first. You just hold him tighter, tucking your chin on top of his head.

“I kept thinking about you last night,” he murmurs. “When I was at the scene. When everything was going wrong. I kept thinking about how I needed to come home to you.”

You press another kiss to his head as you feel yourself get a bit misty eyed. “You’ll always have me to come home to.”

“I know,” he says. Then, quieter: “That’s what makes everything else bearable.”

There’s another long moment of silence, but it’s warm now. Full of things that don’t need to be said.

Then he lifts his head just enough to look at you, eyes still sleepy but shining with emotion. “I love you.”

You smile. “I love you, too, Shou.”

He leans in, presses a kiss to your lips. Then another to your cheek. Then one to your nose.

And then your lips again.

The kiss is slow, deep and needy. Like the both of you are in competition to prove to the other that you love them more. He kisses you again. And again. And again. Until you’re breathless and warm all over.

You giggle as you hold him a bit tighter, brushing his hair back. “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.”

He smiles sheepishly, pulling you closer. “I just… I want to show you how much I love you. And how grateful I am for everything you do.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine. Like it’s not just about comfort anymore. Like he needs you in a different way now.

You glance down and realize he’s already half-hard, pressed against your thigh.

“You sure you’re okay?” you ask softly, fingers trailing down his arm.

“I’m more than okay, love,” he says, mouth already finding yours again. “Let me show you. Please.”

And just like that, the mood shifts.

The softness remains, but there’s heat building beneath it, gentle and sweet, but undeniable.

Todoroki starts kissing down your jaw, his hand smoothing over your side.

“You made me feel so safe, so loved,” he murmurs. “I want to make you feel loved, too.”

You nod, heart fluttering.

And he kisses you again, somehow needier than before, as his hand slips beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts.

His fingers are warm as they slide lower, parting you gently, stroking through the slick already gathering between your thighs. He groans softly against your lips at how wet you are for him, at how quickly your body responds to his touch.

“I love how ready you are for me,” he whispers. “So soft, so warm. You’re perfect, my love.”

You arch slightly into his hand, breath hitching as two fingers dip between your folds, teasing you open with practiced ease. His pace is unhurried, deliberate, his lips never straying far from yours. He kisses you through every sigh, every moan, every roll of your hips.

“I want to take my time,” he murmurs against your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to your skin. “You were so good to me last night. So gentle and patient. Let me take care of you now.”

You nod, already half-gone from all the attention, from the way his voice runs through your bones like electricity.

His fingers stroke you in gentle circles. He watches you closely, eyes heavy with love and want, cataloguing every reaction as if he’s memorizing how to please you perfectly. You whimper out his name softly when he curls his fingers just right, your hand clutching at his forearm as you rock your hips forward.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Just like that, beautiful. You’re doing so good.”

His praise only spurs you on, warmth blooming in your chest and lower. You cry out softly when he adds just a little more pressure, his mouth returning to yours in a deep, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy.

Your fingers tangle in the hem of his shirt, tugging slightly, and he gets the message, sitting up and slipping it off before returning his attention to you. His bare chest presses against yours as he kisses you again, then trails kisses down your jaw, your neck, your chest. peppering every inch of skin he can reach as his fingers work you over the edge.

When he finally pulls his fingers away, you whine softly at the loss.

“Shh,” he soothes, nudging your cheek with his nose. “I’ve got you.”

He sits up on his knees again, slides down your sleep shorts and pulls his own off, settling back into the bed beside you. He turns on his side, his chest pressed to yours, and lifts your top leg over his hip. He snakes his other arm underneath your head like a pillow, pulling you into his embrace for stability.

Then, slowly, carefully, he slides into you.

Your mouth falls open in a gasp, his arm tightening around your thigh.

He leans in to kiss you again, groaning low into your mouth. “Fuck—you always feel so perfect.”

You wrap an arm around him, gripping his shoulder, grounding yourself in the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. He doesn’t move at first. Just holds you, cock buried deep inside, the heat of his body wrapped around yours like a safety net.

“You okay?” he whispers, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I’m ready.”

He begins to move.

Each thrust is gentle but full, his hips rocking against yours like a tide. His free hand explodes your bare body. fingers stroking your chest, your stomach, your thighs, always moving, always touching. He kisses your neck, your shoulder, the curve of your jaw. Like he’s trying to remind you just how loved you are with every inch of his body.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs. “I’d fall apart without you.”

You choke on a soft sob and bury your face into his chest, overwhelmed by how intimate this all feels.

“I mean it,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “Every good thing in my life leads back to you. I need you, my love.”

You can’t find the words, so you just tilt your head up and kiss him, whispering short ‘I love you’s and ‘I need you too’s into his mouth, not wanting to ruin the mood.

He groans into your mouth again as his hips stutter slightly. He screws his eyes shut and throws his head back as the rhythm starts to fray as pleasure builds.

“I’m close,” he whispers, forcing himself to look at you. “Can you come for me, beautiful? Please?”

You nod, breath catching as his fingers trail back down between your thighs, rolling over your clit as he fucks you through another orgasm.

You cry out his name as you come undone, body clenching around him, he holds you flush against him as he follows, hips pressing flush to yours as he groans into the crook of your neck.

He doesn’t pull away right away. Just holds you. Breathes with you.

When you both calm down, sweat cooling and heartbeats syncing, he presses one last kiss to your shoulder.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “I’ll never stop being grateful for you.”

You pull him into another kiss, soft and slow.

“I’m the one who should be grateful,” you whisper. “I love you, too.”

And then you're both asleep, all tangled up in each other just like the night before. the weight of yesterday having been washed away by the warmth of the morning.

————————————————————————Requests are open!! <3

[mmochammoss]

I don’t have anything to request just yet but I just wanted to stop in and say how much I love your writing!! So so glad I stumbled across your blog, you are sooooo talented and I can’t wait to follow along❤️

Yall are gonna have me tearing up on my commute to work wtf???😭😭🤍 I’m so glad you guys like my writing!!!

Requests are still open!! <3

[mmochammoss]

I absolutely love your head cannons I was wondering if you'd let me base a c.ai bot off of one of your prompt🙏🏾🙏🏾

Lmao I don’t see why not??

[mmochammoss]

Silent Treatment

Mirio had always been loud in bed.

Not in a bad way, it was just a fact. He was bigger, louder, more experienced, and impossibly charismatic. Whether he was pinning you to the mattress with that blinding grin or whispering filthy praise against your skin while grinding against you, Mirio Togata knew exactly what he was doing and exactly how to get you off.

And he made sure you knew it, too.

He talked your ear off even while kissing you breathless, tossing out compliments mid-thrust like they were part of the rhythm. You loved it, really. Loved how naturally making you feel good came to him. He was sweet, flirty, confident, so sure of himself, it was infuriating in the best way.

Most nights, you let him have his way.

But sometimes? Sometimes, you wanted to be the one in control.

And tonight, you didn’t just want to be on top. You didn’t just want to call the shots.

You wanted Mirio quiet. 

You wanted to shut him up and see how he sounded when he wasn’t bossing you around or teasing you to the edge. You wanted to talk him through every twitch, every moan, every needy little gasp. You wanted to be the one who wrecked him for once.

You’d been thinking about it all week, the way he always took charge without even meaning to. He was just so… Mirio. Playful. Flirty. Loud. And sure, it was hot, he was hot, but he never let you guide him to the edge. Never let you talk him through it. And that was something you were desperate to try.

Which was why, when he showed up at your apartment after work, still a little flushed and sweaty and talking a mile a minute about something funny Amajiki had said on the way back, you kissed him hard at the door. No warning. Just grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in.

“Whoa,” he laughed, breathless, helping you pull off his jacket. “Somebody missed me today.”

“I always miss you,” you murmured, already walking him backward toward the couch. “But tonight’s different.”

He blinked as he fell onto the cushions, hands already finding your waist. “Different how?”

“You’re not in charge tonight.”

That made him grin. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, climbing into his lap. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you come.”

That earned you a low groan and the return of his usual confident smirk. “Shit. You know I love when you talk like that.”

His hands slid under your shirt, touching your skin like he already forgot he wasn’t supposed to be in charge. He leaned in, lips brushing yours, and started to guide you onto your back. You stopped him with a hand pressed flat against his chest.

“Ah ah,” you said, tilting your head. “What did I just say?”

Mirio paused, already flushed. “You’re in charge.”

“Good boy,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “So let me take care of you tonight.”

He looked amused. Maybe a little intrigued. Still, his hands found your waistband again, fingers curling under the band of your briefs. “I mean, I’m not saying I don’t love it when you take charge—but you sure you can handle me?” he asked playfully. “You know I could have you begging in like, five minutes—”

You knew he would do this, try and tease his way back into being in control.

But you had planned for this.

You kicked your briefs the rest of the way off, grabbed them from the floor, and held them up in front of his face.

“That’s it,” you said, breathless and grinning as you kicked your underwear the rest of the way off and grabbed them off the floor. “If you can’t stop running your mouth, I’ll have to do it for you.”

Mirio looked at you in surprise as you balled up the fabric and held it up to his lips.

“Wait—are you gonna—?”

“Open up.”

He hesitated just a second. Then grinned, wide and wild, and opened his mouth.

You pressed the cotton between his lips, stuffing it gently inside and securing it in place with your fingers. “You talk too much, Mirio. Let me make you feel good for once.”

His groan was muffled, but the way his eyes fluttered shut told you everything you needed to know.

You palmed him through his pants, slow and firm. He was already hard. Already leaking.

“You always talk me through everything,” you said softly. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how good I look, how good I feel… but tonight, I want you silent. I want you trembling and gasping and falling apart while I touch you.”

Another groan, this one needier than the last.

You kissed the corner of his gagged mouth, unbuckling his belt and tugging his pants down just enough to free his cock. He was flushed, heavy in your hand, twitching with every stroke.

“God, you’re already so hard,” you murmured, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly. “You love this, don’t you? Being quiet. Letting me take care of you.”

He whimpered. The sound was muffled but still desperate, needy. His hips jerked into your fist, and you smiled.

“You always act like you’re in control, but you melt so fast for me.”

His thighs flexed under you, his hands digging into the couch cushions for support. You watched the tension build in his body with every pump of your fist, with every quiet breath you whispered against his ear.

“You’re doing so well for me,” you whispered. “Being such a good boy.”

Mirio’s face was flushed pink, sweat beading at his hairline. His eyes were glassy. Desperate. His whole body was straining toward release.

“God, you look so good like this,” you whispered, moving your hand again, working him faster now, wrist slick and steady. “You’re so close, I can feel it. You’ve been holding on so long for me, just a little more, baby.”

He was shaking now, thighs twitching and chest rising and falling in fast, shallow breaths. His head tilted back, fingers curling tight in the sheets, and his eyes locked on yours, desperate and glassy, full of heat.

“I’ve got you,” you said, voice a little breathless yourself. “You can let go. Come for me, Mirio. Let me see you fall apart.”

He tensed hard, whole body arching as he came with a strangled, gag-muffled moan, hips stuttering helplessly into your fist. You stroked him through it, letting him ride it out as he made a mess all over himself and your hand, kissing his jaw and whispering soft praise the entire time.

“There you go… that’s it. That’s my good boy.”

His thighs jerked once more before falling still, breath ragged and broken. You eased your grip, letting his cock rest heavy against his stomach, dripping and twitching as you brought your messied hand up to your mouth to taste him.

Finally, you pulled the gag free, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead.

Mirio gasped, sucking in breath like he’d been underwater. “Holy shit,” he rasped, lips shiny with spit. “That was… fuck.”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Too much?”

He shook his head, still dazed. “Not enough.”

You laughed, stretching out beside him and brushing the hair from his forehead. He turned into your touch, blinking slowly, still catching his breath.

“I might need a rematch,” he mumbled after a beat. “Same setup. But I get to pick the underwear next time.”

You grinned. “Deal.” 

————————————————————————Requests are open!! <3

[mmochammoss]

I know that edit post button HATES to see me coming😭😭

[mmochammoss]

can you write smth for Ida please? Lots of fluff!!! If not alg :) ill be pleased w anything, I ADORE ur writing

Of course!! Iida is one of my favs to write for, he's so cute to me!!————————————————————————

Unbecoming Behavior

The idea of a third-year house party had set Class 1-A completely on fire.

And it had all started with Mirio. The overly enthusiastic third-year had let Midoriya in on the party one of his classmates planned on throwing that Saturday night during one of their patrols. Midoriya had been on cloud nine when he approached you and Iida with that familiar spark in his eye and a very casual, “So, uh… Mirio invited me to a third-year house party. He even said I could bring friends. You guys wanna come?”

The question wasn’t really if you were going. Of course you were going. The real question was whether all of Class 1-A was going. And that was a much taller order.

You and Iida had spent the better part of the week talking logistics. As co-class presidents, it was practically law that if one of you approved something, the other had to do a full risk assessment. Still, you agreed early on: either everyone went or no one did.

“Solidarity,” Iida had declared in his most righteous tone, arms chopping with pure conviction. “If any of our classmates is uninterested in attending, they should in no way feel obligated, so we either take everyone or we take no one.”

You had leaned against your desk with a soft laugh, resting your chin on your hand. “Awfully dramatic, Mr. President. But yeah. I agree. No student left behind.”

A few students, namely Mina, Kaminari, and Sero, were desperate to go. Their eyes sparkled with the promise of upperclassman gossip, hero society tea, and the mythical presence of alcohol they’d never actually be allowed to drink. Meanwhile, Shoji, Koda, and a handful of the quieter homebodies seemed less convinced.

It took some coaxing. Some group chats. A little peer pressure. And a lot of begging.

Eventually, though, a decision was reached. Class 1-A was going to a real, upperclassman house party.

And then came the anticipation.

“Our first real high school party! What if people are like… hooking up in closets and stuff?” Mina asked in delight.

“Do you think there’ll be drinking?” Kaminari whispered like the common room walls were eavesdropping.

“Well, some of them are already eighteen, right?” Hagakure chimed in. “Technically adults. They could do whatever they want.”

By the time those murmurs had made it back to you and Iida, he was already preparing a speech.

You found him in his room, standing in front of his mirror, arms folded as he rehearsed his would be lines. His “stern and diplomatic” face was on full display.

“Tenya?” you asked, knocking gently as you peeked inside.

He jumped, spinning around like you’d caught him doing something illicit. “Oh! I was just—I’m working on my statement to the class.”

You smiled and crossed your arms. “Statement?”

“It’s come to my attention that some students have concerns,” he said seriously, falling into step beside you as you both headed downstairs. “And I think the class deserves clarity.”

You followed him downstairs and watched on as he entered the first floor common room, beckoning as many classmates over to him as possible.

“I’d like to remind everyone,” he started, glasses pushed up, brows furrowed, “that we are students of U.A. High School. We are young heroes in training, and as such, any behavior deemed unbecoming will result in the immediate termination of our attendance at said event.”

The room went still.

You tried not to laugh. He looked at you expectantly.

“Seconded?” he asked.

You gave a small thumbs up. “Seconded.”

Later, Kaminari cornered you in the hallway. “Hey… like, he’s not serious serious, right? Like… we’re not gonna be sent home just because someone’s doing shots or making out in a closet, right?”

You patted his shoulder with a wink. “We’ll be fine, trust me. I can handle Iida.”

You were used to the good cop/bad cop routine by now. Used to Iida being the stern dad and you the patient, level-headed mom. And truthfully, it worked. Because if anything got a little dicey? All you had to do was pull him aside, calm him down, flash a smile and promise him things were under control. And he’d believe you. He always believed you.

Which was maybe less about your skills as a negotiator and more about the fact that Iida would let you get away with anything if it meant you flashed that sweet smile at him.

It was a dangerous amount of power, so you tried not to abuse it.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of whispers, outfit planning, and growing anticipation. Even the usual training drills felt lighter somehow, everyone counting down to Saturday night like it was the biggest mission of the semester.

The night of the party, all the girls got ready together in Mina’s dorm room, going-out clothes and makeup flung across every surface like confetti. Hair straighteners hissed over the sound of pop music blasted from Jirou’s portable speaker. Lip gloss was passed between hands, and there was far too much giggling for anything productive to be happening quickly.

“This is either going to be the best night we’ve ever had,” Mina declared, striking a pose in the mirror, “or the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“Why would tonight be embarrassing?,” Jirou muttered, adjusting her eyeliner in the reflection beside her.

“Imagine we get there and RoboCop sees something he doesn’t like and we all have to leave like a bunch of losers?!” Mina whisper-yells, fluffing her hair out with her hands. “How am I supposed to enjoy my first real high school party knowing that the tiniest thing could set him off?”

You chuckled from where you were putting in a pair of earrings. “Honestly? Even if Iida sees something ‘unbecoming’ as long as no one from the class is directly involved we should be fine.”

“We should be?” Mina questioned with a raised brow.

“We will be.” You clarified, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

You knew Iida could be a stickler for rules and morals, but you knew how to talk him down when you thought he might be going a tad too far. It was true. You and Iida had the full mom-and-dad-of-the-class dynamic down to a science. You balanced each other out. He was the voice of reason, the rulebook incarnate. You were the soft hand on the shoulder, the reassuring smile. He had a serious soft spot for you because of that, which only made it that much easier to get your way with him.

The group of you strutted down the dorm stairs in formation like it was a fashion show, shoes clicking and earrings swinging. The boys waiting in the common room turned at the sound, and their reactions did not disappoint.

But your eyes found Iida’s first, standing with his arms crossed and brows already beginning to knit.

His whole body straightened when he saw you. Not in disapproval, though he did do a double take, but in that way he always did when he didn’t know where to look. You caught him glancing once at your legs, once at your chest, and then straight into your eyes like he hadn’t just catalogued every inch of your outfit.

“I see the girls have arrived,” he said after a beat, adjusting his glasses and very deliberately looking over the group. “I’d like to remind everyone to behave accordingly. We’re representing U.A. tonight, and I expect everyone to uphold our schools standards as heroes in training.”

You stepped up beside him, slipping your hand onto his shoulder and patting it gently, both for show and for comfort.

“Yes, yes, we remember,” you said with a teasing grin. “But come on, Iida. It’s just a party, we’ll be fine. I just want everyone to focus on having fun tonight.”

He glanced down at you before turning his attention back to the group, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “I suppose,” he murmured. “Still, I’ll be keeping an eye out just in case.”

“We know you will,” you replied. “That’s why we all feel safe going.”

He flushed at the compliment but nodded sharply. “Let’s depart, then. We shouldn’t arrive too late.”

The walk to the third-year house party was filled with chatter and nerves. Midoriya kept checking his phone for the address, and even Bakugo, grumbling under his breath, didn’t stray too far from the group.

When you arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music pumped through the walls of the off-campus house, and lights spilled out of open windows. People milled about the porch and yard, drinks in hand, laughter echoing over the bass beat.

You turned to Iida as the group hesitated on the sidewalk. “See? Just a party.”

He sighed but shook his head. “Let’s get this over with.”

Inside, the party was even more chaotic. It wasn’t a raging rager, not yet, anyway, but the first floor was packed with third years, a few second years, and now the entirety of class 1-A.

Your class fanned out naturally. Some gravitated toward the living room to dance. Others clustered near the kitchen, eyeing the snacks and drinks. You stayed near Iida for the first few minutes, watching him scan the room like a mission commander.

When Mina and Jirou waved you over to dance, you gave Iida’s hand a quick squeeze and said, “Just try and relax. Go check on Midoriya or something. When I said I wanted everyone to have fun tonight that meant you too.”

He gave you a long look. “Just call me if anything seems…unusual.”

You saluted. “Yes, sir.”

And with that, he vanished into the crowd to explore the rest of the first floor.

The kitchen was a little less chaotic than the living room. The lighting was softer, the crowd thinner. It was mostly people chatting over drinks or waiting in line to raid the snack table. Kaminari and Sero were posted up near one corner, whispering and laughing as they not-so-subtly tried to hype each other up to talk to some of the older girls.

After a few minutes, and one particularly embarrassing attempt at getting a girl’s Instagram, they were about ready to call it quits and rejoin the rest of the class.

Until something caught their eye.

A silver tray sitting on top of the stove, covered in aluminum foil. Unattended. Suspiciously tempting.

They cautiously approached, lifting an edge of the foil to check the contents.

Brownies.

Thick, fudgy squares topped with colorful rainbow sprinkles.

They exchanged a look.

“You think they’re fair game?” Sero whispered.

Kaminari peered around. “No sign, no label, no name on the tray… that’s basically an open invite.”

“Bet,” Sero said, already reaching for a butter knife.

They sliced into the slab and carved out two hefty corner pieces, carefully transferring them onto napkins. Just as they turned to leave the kitchen, a familiar voice rang out behind them.

“Excuse me,” Iida said, appearing like some kind of judgmental specter. “What are you two up to?”

They froze.

“Nothing!” they blurted at the same time. Suspiciously fast.

“You both are getting desserts already? Do you even know who made these?” Iida asked.

“Dunno,” Sero replied quickly. “But we’re pretty sure they’re fair game.”

Iida raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure? You're not even positive if you're infringing on someone else’s property?” Iida frowned. “Were those even approved by the host? They haven’t been plated yet.”

Kaminari and Sero looked at each other with matching deer-in-headlights expressions. This was bad. One wrong move and their entire night could be over. Everyone’s night could be over. And that kind of pressure made Sero do what he did best under stress: lie.

After a moment Sero stepped forward, hands raised in surrender. “Well, we had just okayed it with the host since we both felt kinda bad being the first ones to take a slice, but we’re sure it’s fine.”

Iida crossed his arms, continuing to question them. “Your positive you okayed this with the host?”

Sero paused, trying his best to think through his lies. “Yup. Totally okayed. Right, Kaminari?”

“Positive,” Kaminari nodded, probably too much. “We wouldn’t just take unclaimed food. That would be… unbecoming.”

Iida straightened up a bit, folding his arms over his chest. “Then I suppose you're both fine. Would you mind pointing the host out to me so that I can get permission as well?”

Kaminari and Sero looked at each other in panic, then back at Iida with the kind of terrified smiles that said they had already dug their own grave.

“Uhhhh you know what, Iida?” Sero said quickly. “Me and Kami have had enough snacks for right now but I would hate for these to go to waste! Why don’t you just have our brownies and we’ll just come back later once some other people have gotten their fix?”

Sero gave Kaminari a knowing look and the blonde quickly shoved the napkin-wrapped brownies into Iida’s hands like it was a bomb.

Iida hesitated, but shrugged, taking the napkin in his hand. “Thank you, it’s very noble of you both to put the feelings of others before your own!” he said, before turning toward the cooler and grabbing a bottle of water.

“No problem!” Sero said enthusiastically, ushering Kaminari out of the kitchen.

“What the hell was that?” Kaminari hissed.

“You saw how worked up he was getting!” Sero whispered. “I panicked!”

“I wanted a brownie! And that corner piece was perfect, you know those will never last in a party this packed. ” The blonde boy whined.

Sero shook his head at his friend. “Okay listen, we can just wait a few minutes then head back into the kitchen to cut another slice. No big deal. No one knows they’re there except us and Iida, right?”

Kaminari nodded as they both made their way back to the dance floor, finding you and a few of the girls to buy their time with until they were ready to venture back to the kitchen.

After a few more songs you and Jirou were getting a little hot and sweaty. You both had to drag Mina out of the dance circle to join you both in grabbing some water from the kitchen. There you spotted Kaminari and Sero, again slicing up a brownie for each of them and wasting no time, taking a hearty bite out of their desserts.

Their moment of bliss was cut short when the taste of the brownie hit their tongues.

“Oh my god this is disgusting!” Kaminari shouted, floundering for a napkin to spit his bite into. You quickly hurried over to him to tell him to lower his voice, not wanting him to freak out the upperclassman you definitely weren’t trying to impress. Sero made a similar disgusted face before struggling to swallow his own bite.

“No, he’s right,” Sero said in a pained voice. “That’s the nastiest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Kaminari was still beside you gagging dramatically as he tried to speak, “literally the nastiest! It tastes like wax crayons and dirt had a baby or something!”

Jirou grimaced. “Ew, dude.”

You looked at Kaminari’s piece, now sitting on the countertop and picked it up, sniffed it, then took a small bite.

The second the taste hit your tongue, your stomach dropped. “Oh my god.”

“What!?” Kaminari asked, frightened by your reaction. “Is it actually moldy? Is it expired or something?”

“No,” you said slowly. “This is an edible.”

The room went still.

Jirou coughed on her water. “Like… weed edible?”

“Yes a weed edible, and strong too,” you clarified. “I only took a nibble and I can taste it. These are crazy strong!”

“Imagine if you ate the whole thing!” Mina gushed. “You’d be so fucked!”

You and the girls laughed at the idea of how messed up one of these brownies could make someone.

But the boys stayed silent.

Sero turned a color you’d never seen before as he looked over at Kaminari. Your laughter died down once you noticed their shared expressions. “What’s the problem?” You asked. “You both only took a bite you’ll be fine, I swear.” You said reassuringly.

“It’s not us we’re worried about…” Kaminari said in a high pitched voice. You tilt your head at him before turning back to Sero, coaxing him to explain.

“We were in here earlier and we grabbed a piece. Iida caught us and asked if we had permission to take them so we lied and told him the host said it was fine but then he wanted to ask the host if he could have some too and I panicked and just let him take ours!” The words tumbled out of Seros mouth faster than you could process them. You blinked at him for a second before realization hit you.

“IIDA ATE A WHOLE BROWNIE?!”you asked him, far too loud.

He pressed his mouth into a line as he shook his head, slowly holding up two fingers.

“TWO!?” You yelled again.

Mina burst out laughing, clinging to the edge of the counter for stability.

“We’re so fucked.” Kaminari sighed out, rubbing his face.

You stared out the kitchen doorway, mind racing. “Where is he?”

“Last I saw?” Sero swallowed. “He was in the living room talking to Midoriya.”

You practically sprinted out of the kitchen.

You found Iida near the living room stairs, just as Sero had said, mid-conversation with Midoriya and Todoroki.

He looked fine. Still upright. Still coherent.

But the moment you approached, his eyes lit up like you’d descended from the heavens.

“(Y/N)!” he beamed. “You look radiant!”

Oh God.

He was using his soft voice. The one usually reserved for your private study sessions and early Saturday mornings. The voice that didn’t have a single shred of lecture in it, just pure adoration.

You smiled, nervous. “Thank you, Iida! Having fun?”

“More than I expected,” he said honestly. “I wasn’t sure at first. But the food, the music, it’s all very pleasant.”

You eyed him carefully. “I’m so glad to hear it! But um…what food have you had…exactly?”

“Just some chips and two brownies,” he said. “And a water bottle. I did feel guilty having dessert first, but it is a party after all.”

You laughed hollow, nodding along with his explanations. “Right. A party.”

You took a breath as you looked around the room. cook up a course of action for when his high might start to kick in.

You glanced toward the living room, mind spinning. You couldn’t let him start melting in front of the whole class. You couldn’t risk the chaos of a high-as-a-kite Iida deciding someone’s outfit or dance moves were unbecoming and shutting the whole operation down.

You needed to get him off the main floor. Now.

And that’s when inspiration struck.

You pressed a hand to your forehead and let out a quiet sigh. Not over-the-top, but just enough to get his attention.

He was by your side in an instant.

“(Y/N)?” he asked, brows pinching. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied sweetly. “Just… a little lightheaded. I think I forgot to eat today with all the excitement. I’m starting to feel a little faint.”

His hands found your arms, steadying you. “We’ll leave immediately. I’ll gather the class—”

“No!” You blurt out, a bit too quick. You grab onto his bicep, leaning into his grasp. You put on your best puppy dog eyes as you look up at him. “It’s okay. I think I just need to lie down. Maybe upstairs? I won’t be long, I’m sure I’ll only need five minutes”

He hesitated. “I’d prefer if you stayed down here so I can continue to monitor the group.”

“It’ll be okay,” you said, giving him a soft look. “I just need a little rest. I promise I won’t be long.”

His jaw clenched as he debated with himself. You could practically see the gears turning behind his wide, earnest eyes. And then…

“I’ll come with you,” he said firmly. “Just in case.”

He swept you up in his arms without another word, bridal style, and carried you through the party like a knight on a mission. A few partygoers cheered playfully as you passed, but he didn’t break stride.

Once on the second floor he went door to door searching for an unlocked bedroom, mumbling under his breath that people must be doing god knows what in all of the locked rooms. Once he found a free bedroom he gently laid you down on the mattress like you were made of glass.

“I’ll get you water,” he said, already turning.

You nodded sweetly. “And maybe chips, if they have any?”

“Of course,” he called as he disappeared down the hall.

You sat up and braced your hands on the comforter.

He was already being too nice. Too sweet. Too relaxed. You didn’t know how long you had before the high really hit, but it was coming.

He returned a minute later with three water bottles and a half-full bag of tortilla chips.

“I wasn’t sure which flavor you preferred,” he said, kneeling beside the bed. “But these seemed… appropriately salty.”

You tried not to giggle. “Thank you, Tenya. That’s perfect.”

He handed you a bottle and a chip bag, then hesitated before sitting beside you.

“I can stay just for a moment,” he added. “Just to ensure you’re alright.”

You smiled and scooted closer, patting the bed next to you.

“You can sit, y’know. It’s not like anyone’s misbehaving downstairs.”

He hesitated again, then cautiously sat down on the edge of the bed.

The moment he settled on the mattress, he relaxed a little. Shoulders down, back not quite so straight. He gave a small sigh, almost dreamy.

“Is it warm in here?” he asked, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt.

“Could be the party,” you teased.

Then he went quiet.

You watched him carefully. His eyes started to glaze. His posture relaxed. How he began blinking… slowly.

“Tenya?” you asked gently.

He slowly turned his head to look at you, a goofy smile on his face.

“I feel,” he said carefully, “amazing.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “That’s good.”

“I can’t feel my teeth,” he whispered, scandalized. “But in, like… a pleasant way.”

You laughed this time, hand flying to your mouth.

He gently flopped onto his back, arms sprawled across the comforter. “I feel like I’m floating.”

You shifted a bit so you could see his face. His pupils were blown wide, and his bangs were sticking slightly to his forehead. He looked more dazed than you’d ever seen him, and it was absolutely adorable.

“Do you want to lie on the pillows?”

He nodded dreamily. “Pillows sound nice.”

You scooted over and patted the spot beside you. He wobbled upright and slowly made his way toward the headboard, crawling like a sleepy toddler. You opened your arms, half as a joke, and he collapsed into them without hesitation.

He flopped face down into your chest, causing you to bark out a laugh as he was kinda unintentionally motorboating you. Once he was comfortable, he turned his head to the side and brought his strong arms around your back, and he squeezed you even closer to him.

“You feeling ok, Teny-bear?” You ask him, freely using his goofiest nickname.

That got a giggle out of him, an honest to God giggle. It burst out of his chest like it surprised even him, and you couldn’t help but smile wider at him.

He continued to stare up at you lazily as his fit of giggles calmed down. His hazy eyes looked bigger and softer by the second.

“Your face is so pretty.”

Now it was your turn to giggle. “Is it?”

He nodded. “Your whole face. All of it. Even your ears.”

You smiled sweetly down at him. “Thank you.”

He went silent again, lying quietly and contentedly in your arms as you cuddled him.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured. “Did you know that?”

“I didn’t know that. Is being soft a good thing?”

He nodded, totally serious. “A very good thing.”

You giggled again, bringing a hand up to push his hair back and out of his face to get a better look at him. “You doing okay though? You feel alright?”

He nodded again. “I feel amazing. I love parties.”

You smiled, watching him closely. His whole face was pink now, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the high or from the way he was looking at you. Another brief silence broke out between you both as you began to lazily rub his back and hum along to the faint sound of music coming from downstairs.

“You’re so pretty~,” he repeated suddenly.

You let out a light chuckle. “You already told me that Tenya, but thank you again.”

“I knooooooow,” he drawled out with a goofy little smile. “But you’re just soooooo pretty. And smart. And warm. And bossy, but only sometimes, but I like that too.”

You held back a laugh. “That’s quite the confession.”

“And your outfit tonight?” he added with a dreamy sigh. “Unfair.”

You reached over for another bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. “Unfair how?”

He pouted into your collarbone. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

"Oh, I see," you giggle out, still holding your water.

“I wanted to fight that third-year who was flirting with you earlier,” he said seriously.

“You did?” You ask, biting back another laugh as you continue to drink.

He nodded solemnly. “But I’m a hero. So I didn’t.”

“Very noble of you.” You say with your mouth full.

“I wanna marry you.” He blurts out.

You choked on your water.

“I said that out loud,” he realized, blinking at the wall. “That’s crazy. You’re so pretty.”

You swore you laughed until you cried. Then you fed him all the remaining tortilla chips and water as you let him snuggle into your chest like you were the world’s most comfortable body pillow.

Later, when the class came looking for you two, you shooed them away from the door so he could rest.

And Iida?

He napped peacefully on top of you until the end of the party, arms wrapped round you like he was scared you might float away.

Totally unbecoming behavior.

And you loved every second of it.

————————————————————————

requests are open!! <3

[mmochammoss]

Could you do mha boys with a buff s/o??

This is too cute lol. I did these in HC style so I hope that’s ok🙏🏾🥹

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Izuku Midoriya

He’s not so secretly, secretly obsessed with you. Keeps a journal just for you and your training. Says it’s for his own training to cross-reference, but everyone knows that little freak is lying. Loves talking about you the most. He knows it’s weird to comment on your body so he tries to hold back but sometimes he just can’t help himself. Even if you're not proud of it, trust that he is. Can and will gush about your shoulder-to-waist ratio during casual conversation with anyone who asks (or doesn’t ask).

He immediately wants to know your workout routine, macros, reps, and gym playlist. Suggests “partner training” under the guise of bonding but really just wants to watch you lift. Don't worry; he wants to spend quality time with you, too, but if that quality time can be you spotting him or guiding him through a set…….yeah…..

Definitely loves your arms the most. Gets so flushed when you wear sleeveless anything. Can’t stop staring at your arms. His face gets redder the more skin you show, but he refuses to look away.

Despite your strength and physique he still wants to protect you, but also knows you could probably throw a villain through a wall no problem. Gets flustered whenever people point it out.

——————————————————————

Katsuki Bakugou

Absolutely loves it. Would never admit it but he does. He’s so down bad. Stares openly when you stretch or flex. Will fight anyone who makes comments, but also makes those same comments himself. It’s different though, only he’s allowed to talk about you like that.

You’re his spotter and he's yours. No exceptions. Don't even think about working out with anyone else he’ll legitimately throw a fit.

Thinks your abs are the hottest thing in the world. He absolutely hates it when you wear anything that shows them off. He tries to overcompensate by being shirtless as much as humanly possible to counteract your effect on him but it really just makes it worse.

Loves that your so strong but he needs you to think he’s strong too. Is always jumping in front of you at the first sign of danger. Never lets you open doors or jars just so he can casually prove that you need him even if you can get by on your own.

——————————————————————

Shouto Todoroki

Quietly admires you like you’re fine art. Traces your muscles absentmindedly when cuddling. Probably asked if he could take photos of your back “for reference,” but just stares at the pictures any time he remembers he has them.

He really tried hard not to outwardly react to the things you wear, he doesn’t want to come off as weird or a creep, but if you wear a tank top around him, he goes totally still and forgets how to breathe. Don’t let it be tight either….

The king of casual compliments. Will call you strong easily 5 times a day. “You’re very powerful.” Insert 10 seconds of intense eye contact. “I like that.” It’s both a compliment and a personal confession.

Started lifting and weight training so much more after you both got together. Says it’s because you're his inspiration but it’s really because he doesn’t want his big sexy s/o in the gym by themselves so other people can hit on them.

——————————————————————

Tenya Iida

Feels kinda bad that he finds your strength so sexy. Every time you lift something heavy without effort his brain gets all fuzzy. Feels like he’s almost objectifying you, so he’ll try and clear his conscience by showering you with compliments. “That was… an admirable display of strength! Very commendable!!”

Praises your physical form with dramatic sincerity but tries to frame the compliments around how hard you work rather than how you look. “Your dedication to physical wellness is exemplary!”

Loves loves loves your legs. Tries to be so subtle about it but anytime you flash a little leg at him he’s getting hot under the collar.

Don’t get it confused though, he’s still going to be your knight in shining armor. You could literally bench-press him, and he’d still instinctively stand in front of you when danger arises. “A hero must shield their loved ones, no matter their physical capacity!”

——————————————————————

Eijiro Kirishima

Literally obsessed with you. Never shuts up about how cool and manly you are. Posts your gym selfies with captions like “LOOK AT THIS POWERHOUSE!!” followed by 10 bicep emojis.

Always wants to play wrestle just so you can overpower him. It’s so hot to him. Gets giddy when you pin him. “Babe, do it again. Slam me. Please.”

Is so touchy-feely with you. Will happily rest his head on your chest in public. Wraps his arm around your waist and tells people, “They could literally crush me in a hug. Isn’t that awesome?”

Loves working out with you. His dream day consists of you both waking up early, hitting the gym, protein shakes, flexing at each other, and ending the day cuddled up after a workout. He’s so whipped it’s not even funny.

——————————————————————

Hitoshi Shinsou

Was shocked but definitely not mad the first time he found out you were jacked, he blinked slowly, nodded his head, and went, “…Nice.” He’s chill about it, most of the time.

He won’t admit it, but he loves being manhandled by you. Pick him up, move him out of your way, put him in your lap. He’s yours. Melts. Absolutely losing it on the inside.

Loves teasing and flirting with you while commenting on your physique. “Wow, those arms could kill a man. Good thing I’m into that.” Tries to come off as smooth and suave but it just makes him sound like such a little freak.

Is extremely possessive and jealous at times. If another muscular person flirts with you, his arms are immediately around your waist, pulling you close to him. Will actually crash out if he loses his Herculean baddie to some meathead.

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Requests are open!! <3

[mmochammoss]

Helloooo (^3^)/

I just wanted to tell you that your writing is absolutely amazing!!!!! and soooo emotional!!! and I'm just left speechless when I'm done with one of your fics.💕💕💕💕

I also wanted to ask, when I press on your master list link, it says there is nothing there. Is that a problem on my end or?

Thank you so much for your effort and writing it is sooo comforting!❤️❤️❤️

OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH???? I posted them to private by accident lol but they should be there if you check now thanks for the heads up and the love🤍🤍

[mmochammoss]

I’ve started working on my first round of requests and yall……most of yall have better ideas than yall think😭😭😭

I put my rules and who I write for up on my page but I got a pm from someone asking if their request would be too much. They were so sweet and sounded so shy about it like their request was so crazy but it truly wasn’t?? After some clarification I was like ��oh🤨….oh???🧐….OH??😳Ohhhh😏🙂‍↕️🙏🏾’. So I’m def excited to post that one!!🤭

So please request what you would like bc apparently yall have way better ideas than I do lol.

One of my next posts will be HCs since that’s what was requested so I might make a poll asking if you guys would like more HCs in the future or just short fics and blurbs

[mmochammoss]

Welcome to my page!!

Requests are OPEN!!

Rules!! | Who I write for!! | Masterlist!!————————————————————————

[mmochammoss]

Masterlist!!

Requests are open!!

♡= Fluff ❀= Angst ☆= Smut————————————————————————

Izuku Midoriya:

Bunny Lines ♡

Fan Behavior: pt. 1 ♡, pt. 2 ♡

Katsuki Bakugou:

Missing you ♡❀

Nicknames ☆

Shouto Todoroki:

Ping Pong ♡

Without You ❀☆

The Morning ♡ ☆

Tenya Iida:

First Impressions ♡

Oh Captain, My Captain ☆

Unbecoming Behavior ♡

Eijirou Kirishima:

Big Baby ♡

Your Spot ☆

Hitoshi Shinsou:

Mondays ♡

Dream Girl ☆

Mirio Togata:

Silent Treatment ☆

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[mmochammoss]

Characters I write for!!:

Izuku Midoriya

Katsuki Bakugou

Shouto Todoroki

Tenya Iida

Eijirou Kirishima

Hitoshi Shinsou

Denki Kaminari

Hanta Sero

Tamaki Amajiki

Mirio Togata