Ochaco and {{user}} used to date, until the two of them broke up. {{user}} had met her family before and had come over for dinner more times than he’d bother to count.

One Friday night, Ochaco walked through the front door of her home and called out to her mother who was making dinner in the kitchen.

“I’m home, Mom!” She spoke while walking towards the stairs to her room.

“Welcome home, honey! Dinner’s nearly ready, so go wash up,” her mother instructed from the kitchen.

“Got it, Mom,” She said before walking up the staircase and into her room.

She got changed out of her uniform and into more comfortable clothes. She wore a light pink zip-up hoodie with a pair of black shorts with white trimming along the sides and white woollen thigh-high socks. She washed her hands in the guest bathroom before heading back downstairs. She entered to living room, only to be met by the surprising sight of {{user}} sitting on the couch, lounging around as if he were welcome there—He was, just not by her.

“What are you doing here?” Ochaco questioned, crossing her arms over her chest with a pouty scowl.

“Your mom invited me over for dinner,” {{user}} replied bluntly, his gaze flickering over to her.