Izuku Midoriya

The soft rustle of your clothes on his bed was suddenly interrupted by the sharp *click* of the doorknob. Inko stood in the doorway, a basket of clean laundry in her arms, her eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

Izuku didn’t just jump; he practically used 5% One For All to launch himself to the absolute furthest corner of the room, his back slamming against his All Might poster. His face turned a shade of red that defied biological science, his hands windmilling frantically in front of him.

"M-Mom! It’s not—we were just—the gravitational pull of the room—I mean, the air pressure—Y/N was helping me study structural anatomy! No, wait, that sounds worse! Please don't cry, I'm a good kid, I swear!"

Inko was already tearing up, placing her hands over her cheeks. "Oh dear! I'm so sorry! My baby is growing up so fast!" she sobbed, quickly pulling the door shut and leaving Izuku face-down on the floor, groaning in sheer mortification.

Tenya Iida

Tenya had been maintaining a surprisingly gentle grip on your waist until the bedroom door swung open to reveal his mother, who had merely come up to ask about his dinner preferences.

In a fraction of a second, Tenya snapped to a perfect, rigid 90-degree angle, his glasses completely fogged over from pure panic. His arms began chopping the air at supersonic speeds, creating a literal wind current in the small bedroom.

"MOTHER! I extend my deepest, most profound apologies for this egregious lapse in household decorum! It was highly improper of us to engage in such undisciplined, passionate behavior under this roof! Rest assured, this incident will be documented, and we will adhere to a strict three-foot boundary from this day forward!"

His mother simply blinked, completely unbothered. "Chicken is fine, Tenya. Just don't break the furniture." The moment the door clicked shut, Tenya turned to you and bowed at a perfect right angle, apologizing profusely for failing to protect your honor.

Denki Kaminari

Denki thought he was being smooth. He had the low lighting turned on and some soft music playing on his phone, completely lost in the moment as he pressed you back against his pillows.

Then, the door clicked open. His mom stood there, holding a stray mug, a massive smirk spreading across her face. Denki’s eyes darted to her, and his brain instantly experienced a total, catastrophic short-circuit.

A visible zap of electricity sparked from his golden hair, popping the lightbulb in his desk lamp with a sharp *crack*. He slumped backward off the bed, landing flat on his back on the carpet, his eyes rolling upward as his thumbs mindlessly popped into the air.

"Wheeeeyyyy..."

You were left sitting on the bed in pitch-black darkness, entirely alone, forced to awkwardly clear your throat and greet his highly amused mother while her son vibrated like a broken appliance on the floor.

Katsuki Bakugo

You were pinned firmly against the edge of his desk, his hands gripping your hips with an intensity that took your breath away, when the door was suddenly kicked open. Mitsuki stood there, looking completely unfazed. "Hey, brat, take out the—"

Bakugo snapped around, small, volatile explosions popping violently from his palms, his face a terrifying mix of crimson rage and deep mortification. "OLD HAG! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?! EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING, YOU DAMN WITCH?!"

Mitsuki didn't even blink; she stepped forward and smacked him right upside the head. "Don't scream at me in front of your girlfriend, you aggressive brat! Maybe if you weren't trying to eat her face off in my house, I wouldn't have to walk in on it! Hi, Y/N, dear, there's juice in the fridge if you survive him!"

She slammed the door shut. Bakugo stood there seething, muttering a string of curses, before he immediately spun back around and pulled you tightly against his chest, burying his burning, bright-red face into the crook of your neck. "Don't look at me. Shut up. Where the hell were we?"

Shoto Todoroki

The atmosphere on his tatami mats had been quiet and incredibly sweet, Shoto’s hand resting gently against your cheek as he pulled you into a deep, lingering kiss. The shoji screen door slid open with a sudden, sharp scrape.

Endeavor stood in the frame, his fiery beard flickering as he stared down at the pair of you. Shoto didn't jump. He didn't even let go of your waist. He slowly turned his head, his gaze icy enough to freeze the room, a tiny, spiteful flame flaring up on his left shoulder.

"Get out. You're ruining the mood."

Endeavor crossed his arms, looking deeply uncomfortable. "Shoto, we need to discuss your training schedule for tomorrow—"

"I said, leave." Without waiting for a response, Shoto turned his back entirely on the Number One Hero, pulled you back into his lap, and leaned right back in to press his lips against yours just to prove a point.

Eijiro Kirishima

You were sitting sideways on his lap, laughing between soft, warm kisses, when his mother popped her head through the door to say goodbye before heading to the grocery store.

Kirishima’s eyes went wide, and his face instantly flushed a brilliant scarlet. However, his chivalrous, manly instincts kicked in immediately. Grabbing the nearest heavy blanket from the foot of his bed, he threw it completely over your head, effectively hiding you like a covered birdcage.

"Mom! Hey! Uh! Just hanging out! Being manly and incredibly respectful of boundaries!"

His mom let out a loud laugh, waving her keys. "Make sure you keep it manly, Eijiro. Nice to see you, Y/N's blanket!" The second the front door downstairs closed, he yanked the blanket off you, his face bright red as he frantically rubbed the back of his neck. "Man... I am so sorry, Y/N! That was totally uncool of me! Are you okay? Did I suffocate you?!"

Neito Monoma

Monoma had been in the middle of a dramatic, highly theatrical dip, humming against your lips, when his mother walked in carrying a stack of folded towels.

Monoma instantly pulled you back up to a standing position, smoothed down his blond hair with one fluid motion, and launched into a sweeping, grand monologue to mask the absolute panic tearing through his chest.

"Ha! You see, Mother? Class 1-A could never comprehend the sheer elegance, refinement, and romantic synchronicity that we possess! Our affection is superior! It is calculated! It is—"

His mother let out a slow, long-suffering sigh. "Neito, your ears are bright red. Stop shouting at the poor girl and come down for tea when you're done being utterly ridiculous."

Here's some art while I get used to using my tablet again