izuku didn’t know what to think when he saw you step towards him in that pretty sundress. it was your third date, and he just couldn’t get enough of you.
you gave him that sweet smile he always dreamed about and asked, “are you ready to go?”
poor izuku. it took him a few seconds for his brain to process that you were a real person standing in front of him, not some goddess he could only admire from afar.
you tilted your head in amused confusion. “izuku?”
he cleared his throat, shaking his head to snap out of it. “hi—yes. uhm, what?” he managed, giving you an adorable, yet embarrassed smile. you bit your lower lip to keep from giggling at how cute he looked.
“i asked if you’re ready to go?” you repeated gently. he nodded, still a bit dazed, his gaze lingering on the way the dress hugged your figure. “you’re…”
you hummed, waiting patiently for him to finish. “you’re so…” he swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “are you real?”
you snorted and quickly covered your mouth to muffle your giggles. “izuku!” a few laughs escaped despite your efforts.
the green-haired boy straightened up, realizing what he’d just blurted out. “s-sorry! i didn’t mean—I wasn’t—SORRY!” he rambled, flailing his arms wildly, his face turning a shade of red that could rival a ripe strawberry.
you smiled and leaned in to peck him on the cheek. “did that answer your question?” you asked, gently pushing a couple of strands of his hair aside. “you did feel me kiss you, right?” you teased.
in a rare moment of boldness, izuku stammered, “i didn’t… c-could you do it again?” he glanced away, still blushing furiously.
your smile brightened, and you leaned in again, this time pressing your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. when you pulled away, you could see the shock on his face, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “i—uhm. huh—what.”
you giggled hysterically and tugged him along. “come on, izuku. let’s go, i don’t want to miss our date now.”
Cynthia is absolutely the type to cry at her own wedding. Normally calm and collected, she spends the hours leading up to the event smoothing over her crisp, white suit again and again, worrying about every small detail, practically burning her steps into the ground as she paces about.
Standing at the arch, her fiddling continues, although to a lesser extent, vowing to keep her nervousness at bay, but when she sees you? It's over for her. You're just so beautiful, so gorgeous, positively radiant. Tears are falling from her eyes before she knows it.
She wipes them away (careful not to disturb her aptly applied makeup) before you reach her, delicately taking both your hands in hers, staring so deeply and lovingly into your eyes. She can't help but thank her lucky stars that you'll be by her side for the rest of her life, nor can she stop from imaging how she's going to rail you into next week as soon as she whisks you away to your hotel room at the end of the night.