#I love these two they are so cute together

[tired-all-the-time22]

Valerie Gray I love you girl!!! They did you so dirty in-show girl!!!

[cuteandhughesy]

Met You At The Right Time, This Is What It Feels Like | Quinn Hughes (Headcanons)

summary: falling in love with quinn through your shared years at college (umich!quinn x reader)

[word count] 3.3k

warnings: NSFW! university relationship | kissing | mentions of drinking and partying | smut | loosing virginity | mentions of p in v intercourse | mature themes and dialogue | read at your own discretion

a/n: based off this request! this was so fucking fun and cute to write and now I want quinn as my boyfriend ! so hope you all feel the same

🎵 feels like by gracie abrams

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ღ bf! quinn hughes who you first met at the rink. one of your good friends was dating another one of the wolverines and asked you to accompany her to his game.

quinn had spotted you during the warm-ups. your smile wide and amused as you watched all the athletes warm up in their own routines. you were joking with chloe—your friend—while her boyfriend tossed you both pucks over the glass. quinn almost passed out when you glanced his way—sending him a sweet, reserved grin. he forced himself to smile back, and when that made you blush and look away, quinn knew that he had to know you.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who asked his teammate about you as soon as the game finished—a victory for the wolverines, thankfully. he attempted to sound nonchalant and uninterested, but his teammate knew quinn too well. he wrapped quinn up in a firm, annoying side huge and gave him a nugie, all while saying 'does huggy bear have a crush on y/n?'

quinn thought the name suited you perfectly. thankfully quinn doesn’t need to ask again before his teammate is getting your number from chloe.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who texted you the following night. at first you were confused—a random number sending you a message with no identification other than a simple 'hey, is this y/n?' curious and intrigued, you responded immediately; 'this is she. who's this?'

quinn's response was immediate, 'shit, sorry. it's quinn hughes.'

and of course that made you giggle into your palm, feet kicking like you're an oversized excited child. because quinn fucking hughes was texting you. quinn hughes, the cutie who sits two rows back from you in kinesiology class. quinn hughes who was stupid good at hockey and was looking at you during warmups the day before.

you don't even care how he got your number (he told you regardless though, obviously), all you cared about was him wanting to text you in the first place.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who after a week and a million shared text messages later, you run into at a local coffee shop—where you merely miss spilling your entire iced chai down the front of his light coloured hockey hoodie.

he freezes and stutters at the sight of your flushed face, and his nerves only build when he sees that you're not nervous to talk to him. quinn quickly realizes he has some sort of infatuation with you, and before he can sike himself out he asks you on a date.

quinn asks in the middle of your scentence, but you don't even care. he's cute—he's dorky. 'would you wanna get dinner together sometime? like maybe thursday, if you're free?'

you are so free.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who picks you up at your dorm room before your first date. he lives off campus with his friends, and he borrowed his roommates car to come and get you. he brings you flowers—which you put in an empty orange juice bottle that you filled with water—and hugs you at the door. it’s kinda awkward and so perfectly quinn.

he lets his hand hover your lower back as you walk to the car, and of course he opens the door for you. quinn lets you play your music in the car, and he lets you talk his ear off—he can’t help but admire how comfortable you are around him. he thinks you’re like sunshine.

quinn takes you to a local italian restaurant, where you order chicken alfredo and he orders spaghetti bolognese. the conversation flows between you easily, and by the time desert rolls around, you’re sharing a lava cake—your respective spoons swiping at each others while playfully fighting for the same bites.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who after bringing you back to your dorm, grabs your wrist before you can walk in. your roommate isn’t home yet, and you can smell the peonies quinn brought that you left in the jug by the door.

you blink at him curiously, because you’ve already shared your pleasant goodbyes and made plans to see each other again. ‘you okay?’

quinn’s palm is sweaty where it wraps around you. he’s nervous, and he swallows roughly—eyes darting around your blushing face like he can’t get enough. ‘can I kiss you?’

your answer is pushing up to your toes and wrapping you arms around his neck. that’s when quinn leans down, kissing you timidly but also firmly. he’s never felt lips softer than yours, and you’ve never had a kiss turn your stomach inside out the way quinn’s did.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who asks you on a second date, and then a third, and then a fourth. each date is accompanied by a kiss, and another kiss—until all it feels like you’re doing is giggling and kissing like teenagers.

he’s a gentleman, and never makes advances that you aren’t comfortable with. quinn brings you to the beach for sunsets, kissing you under the glow of the setting sun. he takes you to the movies and to a local pottery class—sneaking kisses anytime your eyes meet.

he asks you to be his girlfriend on your fourth date while you’re both still in the car, hands twitching against his pants nervously. you’ve never smiled bigger, and you squeal in excitement, leaning over the centre console and kissing him.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who has never had a serious girlfriend before, only stupid month or so situationships and meaningless hookups. so now that he’s got you, an actual girlfriend, he’s enamoured by all the little ‘girlfriend’ things you do.

quinn goes feral when you wear his clothes. the sight of you waking up in his cozy bed, blinking tiredly while his shirt rides up your body, revealing your underwear…quinn just about dies.

you cook dinner for him, and you always tickle his back when he’s falling asleep. you want to watch all his favourite movies, and you want to learn about hockey—which leads to him teaching you how to skate, where you inevitably fall and bring him down with you.

you’re the perfect girlfriend. and even though quinn stresses he doesn’t need you to fold his laundry or pick up his shampoo when you notice he’s out, he appreciates it more than he could ever express.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who always is getting you flowers. whether it’s a pre-made bouquet from the grocery store, an arrangement he picked out at the florist, or a bunch of wild flowers from the park beside his house, quinn is giving you flowers.

when he’s at the grocery store he always picks up your favourite ben & jerry’s ice cream, as well as your favourite drink. quinn always makes sure you have water before he gets in bed himself, because you’ll be upset if you don’t, and he lets you tuck your feet under his legs because they’re always cold.

quinn is the sweetest boy you’ve ever known and he is constantly making sure you’re content before anything else.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who takes your virginity. you’ve only had one boyfriend and that was back in highschool—the farthest you’d gone with him was kissing and a little groping. when you tell quinn that you’re a virgin, he’s a little nervous—especially because he’s already hovering over you, painfully hard while your bare tits are starring at him. the only reason he’s nervous is because he wants you to be comfortable and sure. he wants it to be perfect for you.

but when you assure him in a breathy whisper, your small nimble fingers reaching out and squeezing his dick, quinn can’t hold himself back any longer. he fucks you soft and sweet, bucking into you at a pace that has your breath hitching. quinn checks on you through the whole thing, scattering kisses along your face and neck while you’re moaning in pleasure.

it’s perfect for you, and that makes it perfect for quinn.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who plays a little extra hard when you’re in the crowd. there’s something so special about having you watching him in the stands during his games, cheering him on and jumping up and down with excitement. quinn swears he can hear you over the crowd, and that always pushes him a little bit more.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who always makes sure to comfort you when you’re stressed—and vice versa.

you often get overwhelmed with your school work. you’re very smart and have a jam packed schedule, and a lot of the time if you want to spend time with quinn, you’re bringing your textbooks and laptop so you can get some work done. quinn hates the way you sigh shakily when you reach a difficult question. you’re tired and done with school, and most of the time it makes you emotional.

when you begin to cry quinn darts to you, wrapping you in a hug while you sob into his shoulder. he rubs your back soothingly, squeezing your arms and sides comfortingly. he whispers words of reassurance in your ear until you’ve calmed down, and when you inevitably get back to work, quinn helps you. even though he has no fucking clue what you’re working on, the effort makes you melt.

quinn is always the most stressed when he’s dealing with an injury or illness—because that puts a pause on hockey. you know how much hockey means to your boyfriend, and seeing him so broken about not being able to play just wrecks you. in times like that, it’s the little things you do that help quinn feel better.

making him food and making sure he’s stocked up on drinks and getting his electrolytes. massaging his shoulders and giving him head scratches. if he’s injured you make sure he’s got everything in reach so he doesn’t have to move, and if he’s sick you make sure you’re in reach, because all quinn ever wants is you.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who isn’t a huge party guy. he prefers staying in—watching movies and hockey highlights until he’s falling asleep, preferably with you tucked into his side.

you’ve always been more outgoing than quinn, and mingling is one of your favourite things to do. so every now and then when you go out, quinn joins you. he loves watching you in your element—dancing with your friends and talking to anyone who will listen. and when you’re wrapping yourself around quinn, blinking and pouting up at him all pretty asking him to dance with you, quinn never declines.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who has a few lovey dovey nicknames for you—lovey being one of them. there’s a few more common terms of endearment like babe, baby and beautiful that often slip from his lips like second nature. they’re the safest ones, the nicknames he’ll call you around his friends and yours like it’s no big deal. but then there’s the nicknames he reserves for when it’s just you both—honey, his girly, and your personal favourite: lovey.

your nicknames for quinn are simple—usually just babe or baby. but on the odd occasion when everything feels really soft and intimate, you’ll can him bubba.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who’s love language is words of affirmation. he didn’t realize it until after he met you that it was his love language, but anytime you praise him or reassure him, quinn’s stomach swoops and his heart flutters excitedly. he’s obsessed with the way you speak to him, and he’ll never get tired of it.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who knows your love language is physical touch. you love being close to quinn. if you’re not sitting next to him, you’re sitting on him—trying to get as close as possible at any means necessary. you love wrapping your hands around his arm, and throwing your leg over his hips when you’re in bed together.

quinn can be a bit awkward when it comes to physical contact, especially in public, and you understand and respect that. so when you’re out together and he kisses your cheek or wraps you in a hug, it makes it just that much sweeter.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who may not always go out to parties with you, but will always drop you off and pick you up if you need a ride. it could be a local bar or a random sticky frat house, quinn will be there if you need him.

he’s the most patient human in the world. guiding you to the car while you babble about nonsense—completely hammered. quinn pulls over if you feel sick, even if you has to pull over 15 times in a 5 minute ride. he helps you shower if you’re sticky, and he puts you in pyjamas before you get in bed—no matter who’s place you’re at. quinn makes you chug water and take advil, and he makes sure you’re sleeping on your side incase you get sick.

and he doesn’t even mind doing it either. as long as you’re safe and okay, quinn will do whatever he needs to.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who says I love you first. you’ve been dating for 6 months, and spring is blooming in michigan. it’s the first really warm day of march, and he’s taken you to the pier for a afternoon date.

you walk the pier and have shitty boardwalk food—laughing, kissing and talking about anything and everything. dates like this are always your favourite. just you, quinn and the comforting atmosphere.

you had been mid talking about the book you were reading, a book that was making you angry because you claimed the plot was ‘stupid’. you were telling quinn about the main character, hands moving animatedly as you talked when quinn just said it.

‘I love you so much, y/n’ he said quitley. but you heard it, and your previous ramble comes to a halt. you blinked once, and then again, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. and then tears begin forming in your eyes, and quinn smiles. ‘don’t cry lovey’ he said, pulling you into his chest.

but of course you continue to cry, holding onto quinn like your life depended on it. and when you look up at him and say it back, lashes all wet and nose running, quinn thinks you’ve never looked prettier.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who has to be almost sneaky when it comes to having sex with you. you live in a dorm room with a roommate, and he lives in a house with four other teammates. quinn doesn’t have his own car, and neither do you. having sex is like trying to curate a spy mission.

you have to plan times you’ll be alone, which is usually in your dorm room between 5 p.m and 6:30 p.m while you’re roommate is in a clinical lab. that’s always the best sex with quinn because he doesn’t have to hold back. he holds you against the mattress with his body, and there’s a pillow shoved under your hips while he slips in from behind. quinn pounds you into the mattress until it’s creaks, and he has to cover your mouth to muffle your moans. after all, it’s still a dorm room and you have neighbours.

but there are times when you’re both too impatient and horny. his roommates are scattered through his house, half downstairs and the other only a room over. quinn’s simple and innocent kisses soon turn more heated, and before either of you can think logically, you’re exposing only the essentials so quinn can slip into your heat while he holds your legs open.

your moans are muffled with his lips, and he shoves a pillow between the wall and headboard to not give away what you’re doing.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who gets really stressed once scouts starts checking him out for the upcoming draft. you notice in the way his shoulders are tighter, and he starts to get a little distant.

of course it hurts your feelings, but you understand the pressure he’s feeling. so like the sweet girlfriend quinn knows you to be, you reassure him. you’re not too pushy, and you’re not overwhelming. you kiss him gently and whisper your confidence in him when it’s just the two of you, facing each other in bed—nothing but the moonlight illuminating you.

it helps him more than you’ll ever know.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who is a silent jealous type. he knows you’re social, and he also knows that guys love that. when you’re at parties and mingling your little heart out, lots of guys will try and make advances on you.

you ooze confidence, and your smile is so fucking pretty that quinn almost understands these guys. but you’re his girlfriend, and the sight of these boys trying to touch you and flirt with you makes his blood boil.

of course you don’t entertain them, but that doesn’t stop the jealousy that stirs within your boyfriend. you can always tell when quinn is feeling jealous because his body gets tense and he pouts like a little boy. it doesn’t matter where you are—could be the beach and strangers are checking out your body, or a grocery store and a man compliments your smile, quinn always has the same jealous reaction. and that’s no reaction at all expect that frown.

when you see it you’re instantly moving, wrapping yourself around quinn and giving his pulse point a little kiss. and when you murmur that you love him, quinn always cracks.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who even when you’re fighting, never raises his voice at you. it doesn’t matter how frustrated he is, or how pointless your argument is, quinn would never yell. most of the time is just makes you angrier, because why can’t he just put you in your place—especially when you know you’re being annoying and stupid. but quinn always just tries to problem solve in a calm, soothing voice.

but don’t worry, he puts you in your place in other ways ;)

ღ bf! quinn hughes who asks you to stay with him for a few weeks in the summer at the lake house before the draft.

if quinn wasn’t in love with you already, seeing you with his family would’ve had him falling. you always cook breakfast with ellen in the morning, the two of you giggling and chatting like you’ve known each other for ears. you go golfing with quinn and his dad, and even though you suck at it, jim has nothing but praise and encouragement for you.

jack and luke tease you like you’re their sister. they push you into the pool and steal your fries when you’re not looking, which always makes you laugh. you blend in with his family so well, quinn can’t do anything but smile and admire it all as it unfolds.

you sit with quinn during bonfires and movie nights on the couch, sharing quick kisses when you both think nobody is watching—news flash, somebody is always watching, which usually ends with his mom cooing or his brothers teasing. you and quinn both wake up a little extra early, stifling moans as quinn pushes into your heat in the uninterrupted hours of the morning. you swim like kids, go grocery shopping with his brothers, dance in the moonlight as taylor swift songs, make out on the boat when everyone else stays back. it’s perfect. its simply just you and quinn.

ღ bf! quinn hughes who you sit beside at the nhl draft. he’s nervous, your hand clutched in his clammy one while his thumb runs over your knuckles absentmindedly. just before the draft starts, you squeeze his hand three times, a silent I love you. and quinn squeezes back.

his name gets called and you feel like crying. he hugs his parents first, and then quinn turns to you, a smile on his face while your eyes begin to go misty. he kisses you, in front of the cameras and the crowd because he knows you’re going to be together for the rest of your lives, and the nhl might as well get used to you now, because you’re not going anywhere.

[goldfades]

crazy cat people───joe burrow⁹

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰���𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and joe had always been cat people—dogs were just too high maintenance, too needy. but you were never in a hurry to get cats until one night, joe finds a cat on a roadie and decides to bring her home.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | literally nothing but cat dad joe, and dog slander (JK!! not really, but we all know joe likes cats better). inspired by this clip.

The thing about Joe is that he’s always been a cat person.

You figured it out on your second date when the conversation somehow derailed into a passionate debate about why people automatically assume dogs are superior. It started off as a joke—some exaggerated takes for the sake of banter—but then Joe hit you with a well-structured argument about the independent nature of cats, their low-maintenance lifestyle, and the way they choose their people rather than blindly loving everyone.

“You ever seen a cat follow some random stranger home just ‘cause they waved at it? No. That’s some dog behavior.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “No self-respect.”

That was the moment you knew he was the one.

Well, not actually, but it definitely solidified your interest. Three years later, the two of you were still going strong, bound together by an undeniable connection, a deep understanding of each other’s quirks, and a shared stance that dogs—while undeniably adorable—were just a little too much. Too excitable. Too dependent. Too… needy.

“We’d be cat people,” you had declared one night while curled up on the couch together, his arm draped lazily around you. “Like, if we were to get a pet.”

Joe hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, but I feel like we’d be picky about it. Can’t just have any cat. Gotta be one with personality.”

“A little bit of an asshole,” you added.

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

Despite countless conversations about what you’d name your hypothetical future cat (the list had ranged from elegant, sophisticated names like Theodora to complete chaos like Little Shit), you never actually got one. Between Joe’s insane schedule and your own busy life, it never felt like the right time. You weren’t the type to impulsively adopt an animal just because it seemed like a cute idea—you took responsibility seriously. Joe was the same way.

But that didn’t stop you from sending him TikToks of cats daily. And it definitely didn’t stop him from pausing the TV anytime a cat appeared in a commercial, just to point and go, “That one’s kinda cool.”

It was just one of those things. A little inside joke, a shared fantasy, a part of your relationship that existed in theory but had yet to materialize.

Until Joe came back from a road trip with something unexpected.

Something small. And furry. And wrapped in the hoodie he had worn on the plane.

A cat.

He met your wide-eyed stare with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, funny story…”

--

It was one of those quiet, in-between days where everything felt a little dull without Joe around. You were used to it by now—his road trips, the stretches of time where you had to keep yourself entertained—but no matter how well you adjusted, the house always felt bigger when he wasn’t in it.

You filled the day the best way you knew how. Running errands, grabbing coffee from the spot down the street, making small talk with the barista who always remembered your order. You spent an unreasonable amount of time in Target, browsing the aisles aimlessly, tossing things into your cart that you definitely didn’t need but convinced yourself were essentials.

A candle? Necessary. A new throw blanket even though you already had five? An investment. A little ceramic dish shaped like a cat’s face? Joe would think it was funny.

By the time you got home, the sun was beginning to set, casting the living room in soft golden light. You went through your usual routine—changing into something comfier, throwing your hair up, and scrolling through your phone while curled up on the couch.

Joe had texted you earlier to say his flight landed on time, but you weren’t sure when he’d actually walk through the door. Traveling always took it out of him, and sometimes he lingered at the facility longer than necessary, just to settle back into the routine of being home.

So when you heard the familiar sound of the front door unlocking, you perked up, setting your phone down.

Joe was home.

You stood, stretching a little before padding over to greet him—only to immediately freeze in place.

Because Joe Burrow, your extremely predictable, routine-driven boyfriend, was standing in the doorway holding a cat.

Not a cat carrier. Not a box from the pet store with a new cat inside. No, he was physically holding a cat in his arms, cradling it like some kind of newborn wrapped in the oversized hoodie he had worn on the plane.

“Uh…” You blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. “Joe?”

Joe, looking far too casual for someone who had just walked into your shared home with a whole animal, shot you a sheepish grin.

“So, funny story…” He shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on the tiny creature, who—shockingly—seemed completely unbothered.

You didn’t say anything. You just stared. Because what the hell were you supposed to say?

Joe cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels. “I found him at a gas station. In, like… the middle of nowhere.”

Your brain short-circuited. “What?”

“Yeah. Just… chilling. No collar, no tags, nothing.” He looked down at the cat, then back at you, as if that explanation was supposed to justify the fact that he had apparently just kidnapped an animal. “He walked right up to me. Super chill. Thought, you know, maybe he needed a home.”

“You—” You ran a hand down your face, processing. “So you just… took him?”

Joe shrugged, completely unbothered. “No one stopped me.”

You stared at him, then at the cat, then back at him.

The cat—a small, scrappy-looking thing with fluffy black fur and bright green eyes—gave the smallest little stretch before curling back up into the fabric of Joe’s hoodie, as if this was the most natural situation in the world.

A sigh left your lips, half-exasperated, half-amused. “You stole a cat.”

Joe scoffed. “I didn’t steal him. I rescued him.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you check to see if he belonged to anyone?”

Joe paused. “I mean… he was alone.”

“That is not an answer.”

“Well, no one else was around,” Joe defended. “It was late. Freezing cold. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

You crossed your arms, arching a brow. “So your solution was to bring him home?”

Joe, completely unrepentant, grinned. “Yeah. He’s cool, right?”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers against your temples before shaking your head.

This man.

This six-foot-four NFL quarterback who spent three years claiming you guys would be extremely selective about what kind of cat you got, had apparently abandoned all standards the second a gas station stray blinked at him.

And worse? You were already kind of attached.

Because the damn cat was still curled up in his hoodie, looking completely at peace, like he had already decided he belonged here.

You sighed, waving them both inside. “I can’t believe you.”

Joe grinned, stepping past you and into the house, clearly taking that as a win.

“Should we name him?” he asked, already making himself comfortable on the couch, cat still in tow.

You groaned.

“Oh my God.”

The first night with Miss Honey felt strangely natural, like she had always belonged here. Apparently, you guys had been misgendering her the whole time.

After the initial shock of Joe casually waltzing into your home with a stray cat, the two of you got to work making sure she was okay. A quick check revealed she was mostly healthy—just a little underweight and carrying a few ticks, which you carefully removed while Joe held her still, murmuring soft reassurances. Despite being a random cat from a gas station, she was surprisingly chill about it, blinking up at you with those big green eyes like she already trusted you.

“This is insane,” you had muttered, brushing your fingers through her soft fur.

Joe, stretched out on the couch beside you, smirked. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You rolled your eyes because, of course, he was right.

That night, the three of you curled up on the couch and put on Matilda, your mutual comfort movie. Joe made popcorn, you pulled out the throw blanket you had impulse-bought earlier that day, and Miss Honey—named after the warm, soft-spoken teacher you both adored—made herself right at home between you, paws tucked neatly beneath her little body.

“She’s purring,” Joe whispered at one point, as if he was afraid saying it too loud would make her stop.

You had just smiled, gently scratching behind her ears. “Yeah. I think she likes us.”

It took less than twenty-four hours for Miss Honey to fully take over the house.

By the next morning, she had already established herself as a permanent fixture, weaving between your legs as you made coffee, hopping onto the couch like she owned the place, and—much to Joe’s delight—curling up on his chest while he lounged around watching film.

“She’s got good taste,” he mused, running a slow hand down her back.

You, sitting cross-legged on the floor sorting through your Target bags from yesterday, shot him a look. “You mean ‘cause she likes you?”

Joe grinned, glancing down at the cat who was currently making biscuits against his hoodie. “I mean, can you blame her?”

You snorted. “Unreal.”

Still, you had to admit—Miss Honey really did love Joe.

At first, you thought it was just convenience. He ran warm, he was still for long periods of time, and his heartbeat was steady enough to lull anyone to sleep. But over the next few days, it became clear that her attachment went deeper than that.

She followed him from room to room, her tiny paws padding against the hardwood whenever he moved. If Joe was at the kitchen counter making breakfast, Miss Honey was right there beside him, tail flicking lazily. If he was tying his shoes by the door, she sat next to him, watching intently like she had somewhere to be, too.

It was ridiculous.

“She’s obsessed with you,” you pointed out one night, arms crossed as you watched her bat playfully at the drawstrings of his hoodie.

Joe grinned, scratching under her chin. “Yeah, but don’t be jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the warmth blooming in your chest.

Because, truthfully, you loved it.

You loved that she trusted him. Loved that this cat—who had spent who-knows-how-long fending for herself—had chosen you both, nestled herself into the space between you like she had been there forever.

It didn’t take long for Miss Honey to establish a routine.

Every morning, without fail, she woke Joe up first. Not you—Joe.

You learned this the hard way when you woke up one morning to a quiet, disgruntled “Jesus,” followed by the sound of Joe shifting beside you. Blinking blearily, you turned over, only to find Miss Honey perched delicately on his chest, staring down at him like she was assessing whether or not it was time for him to get up.

“Babe,” Joe whispered, voice still thick with sleep. “Your cat is harassing me.”

You stifled a laugh, rubbing your eyes. “She’s your cat too.”

“Yeah, well, tell her to chill.”

Miss Honey, completely ignoring his complaints, took that exact moment to lean down and press her tiny nose against his, like a little wake-up kiss.

You melted on the spot.

Joe groaned, but even half-asleep, he couldn’t hide his smile.

From then on, it became a thing. Every morning, she woke Joe up first, then trotted to the kitchen like a little queen expecting breakfast. She had a schedule, and she stuck to it.

By the end of the second week, she had also taken over bedtime.

One night, you were finishing up in the bathroom when Joe called out from the bedroom, amusement lacing his voice.

“You’re getting replaced.”

You stepped into the room, brows furrowed. “What?”

Joe tilted his head toward the bed, where Miss Honey was curled up on his pillow, perfectly nestled into the space where your head usually went.

You crossed your arms. “Unreal.”

Joe smirked, patting the mattress beside him. “Sorry, babe. She called dibs.”

You shook your head, sliding into bed anyway, and—because Miss Honey was the most spoiled creature on the planet—you let her stay.

She purred contently between you, tucked snugly between your bodies, and Joe reached out, running a slow hand down her back before catching your gaze.

“I think she was meant to be ours,” he murmured, voice soft in the dark.

Your heart swelled.

Because he was right.

At first, Miss Honey had been a little more drawn to Joe. It wasn’t anything personal—she liked you just fine—but there was something about him that had her stuck to him like glue. Maybe it was his warmth, or the steady way he carried himself, or the fact that he had been the one to scoop her up from the cold and bring her home.

But after a couple of weeks, things started shifting.

It wasn’t sudden. There was no grand moment of realization where she decided, Actually, I love you too. It was slower than that—small moments that gradually built into something solid, something certain.

It was the way she started lingering in the kitchen while you made breakfast, winding around your ankles, soft fur brushing against your bare legs as she meowed up at you like she was part of the conversation.

It was how she started climbing onto your lap while you were reading, kneading her tiny paws into your stomach before curling up and purring herself to sleep, like you were something safe.

It was how she started following you into the bathroom whenever you did your skincare at night, sitting neatly by the sink and watching you with lazy, half-lidded eyes, as if she was deeply invested in your routine.

She was still Joe’s shadow, but you had become hers.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

“She likes you now,” Joe teased one night, watching as Miss Honey happily stretched out on your chest, perfectly content.

You smirked, scratching under her chin. “She always liked me.”

“Nah,” he mused, tossing an arm around your shoulders. “She tolerated you. Big difference.”

You gasped dramatically. “How dare you?”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Hey, it’s a compliment. You won her over.”

And you had.

Miss Honey wasn’t just a cat anymore. She was your cat. An irreplaceable little presence in the house.

Joe, naturally, leaned into it full force.

It started with the essentials.

A bed. A few toys. Some high-quality cat food that Joe meticulously researched before purchasing. He wasn’t about to give her just anything—he wanted the best, reading reviews like he was about to draft a new teammate.

You had laughed the first time you caught him looking up “best cat food brands for digestion” on his phone.

“Joe, she was literally eating bugs two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, and now she’s got standards,” he shot back, tapping on a link. “This one’s got good ingredients.”

And that was just the beginning.

Before long, Joe was going all out—buying her the best litter (something natural and odor-free, because only the best for our girl), a selection of premium treats (“That Temptations crap is all filler,” he had said, with so much conviction you almost cried laughing), and multiple collars in different colors and patterns.

One morning, you caught him kneeling by the front door, carefully adjusting the tiny blue velvet collar around Miss Honey’s neck.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, leaning against the doorway, watching as he straightened the little golden name tag.

Joe glanced up, grinning. “She looks good though, right?”

You had to admit—she did.

But the real turning point? The sweaters.

That was unexpected.

It had started as a joke—one lazy evening, the two of you scrolling through Etsy, looking at cat accessories for fun.

“Wouldn’t she look cute in this?” you had said, showing Joe a tiny, knitted sweater in a soft cream color.

Joe snorted. “No way she’d wear that.”

Turns out, she would. And she’d like it.

The first time you slipped a tiny sweater over her head, Miss Honey barely reacted—just gave a big stretch, turned in a circle, and promptly plopped down on Joe’s lap like nothing was different.

Joe, stunned, just blinked.

“You’re telling me she’s okay with this?”

“She’s thriving,” you corrected, grinning.

And from that moment on, Joe took it as a personal mission to build her wardrobe.

Over the next week, more sweaters arrived in the mail—different colors, different materials, even a tiny hoodie with ears.

“This is getting out of hand,” you commented as Joe unboxed yet another package.

He held up a tiny lavender sweater, inspecting the material. “It’s for layering.”

You stared at him. “Joe, she’s a cat.”

Joe just smirked. “A stylish one.”

Miss Honey, stretched out on the couch, gave a slow blink, completely unbothered by the chaos she had brought into your lives.

And, honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Three months in, and neither of you could remember what life was like before Miss Honey.

It wasn’t just that she had settled into your home—she had settled into you, woven herself into the rhythm of your days so seamlessly that the idea of waking up without her little body curled between you or coming home to a silent house felt… wrong.

Mornings were different now.

Gone were the days of lazy, drawn-out wake-ups—Miss Honey made sure of that. If Joe’s alarm didn’t get him up, her tiny little paws kneading into his chest certainly did. And if he dared try to roll over and ignore her? She’d take matters into her own hands.

Or, more accurately, her own whiskers.

One morning, you caught her using her best tactic yet—pressing her nose right against Joe’s, whiskers tickling his face until he groaned and finally peeled one eye open.

“You are the most spoiled creature on the planet,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

Miss Honey responded by immediately rubbing her face against his chin, purring like a little engine.

Joe exhaled a laugh, eyes still heavy as he let his fingers trail through her fur. “Unreal.”

Meanwhile, your mornings had changed in a different way.

You used to make coffee alone, sipping it in peaceful solitude before starting your day. Now? You had company.

Miss Honey had claimed her spot on the counter—perched delicately by the coffee machine, watching your every move like an executive overseeing production.

“Supervising?” you’d ask her, sprinkling cinnamon into your cup.

She’d blink, tail flicking lazily.

Joe, walking into the kitchen at just the right moment, would snort. “She’s your little manager.”

And it was true—Miss Honey was involved in everything.

She had a routine. A life. A set of unspoken rules that ran the house.

If one of you was on the couch? She was there too, curled up in the crook of your leg or sprawled across Joe’s chest. If you were cooking? She was on the floor, watching you with silent judgment, like a tiny food critic.

If Joe was watching game film, she’d climb onto his lap and stare at the screen, like she had some real thoughts about the Bengals' offense.

She had her little preferences, too. She didn’t care for loud noises but loved when Joe played music on his speakers. She always sat with you while you read, always meowed when she wanted attention, and—for some reason—seemed particularly obsessed with Joe’s socks.

“She’s weird,” Joe said one night, watching as she enthusiastically dragged one of his socks across the living room like it was her prized possession.

“You brought home a gas station cat,” you reminded him. “What did you expect?”

Joe exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he reached down to scratch behind her ears. “She’s perfect.”

And she was.

She had changed things in the smallest, most meaningful ways.

The house didn’t feel empty when Joe was away anymore—not when you had her little paws padding around, her soft purrs filling the silence. Even on the loneliest days, she made it better, curling into you like she just knew.

And Joe—he had changed, too.

If he had been a cat person before, he was fully in his Cat Dad era now.

It had started subtly. The good food, the high-quality litter, the little sweaters he kept ordering. But at some point, it escalated.

Joe started carrying her around the house, tucking her into his hoodie when he was watching film, talking to her like she was an actual human being.

“Alright, Miss Honey,” he said one afternoon, kneeling in front of her as she lounged lazily on her little cat bed. “We got options. You wanna wear the blue sweater or the gray one today?”

You, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed, stared at him. “Joe.”

He looked up, completely unashamed. “She likes choices.”

“She’s a cat.”

Joe just smirked, holding up the tiny sweaters. “A stylish one.”

And then there was the Ja’Marr conversation.

One night, after practice, Ja’Marr had made a casual joke—something about how “one cat turns into five real quick,” laughing at the idea of Joe slowly becoming that guy.

You had laughed too, shaking your head. “No way. We’re a one-cat household.”

Joe had nodded in agreement, completely confident. “Yeah, no shot.”

But then… a week later, he changed his tune.

You were curled up together on the couch, Miss Honey stretched between you, when Joe sighed, absentmindedly running his fingers down her back.

“She’s kinda lonely,” he mused.

You blinked. “What?”

Joe glanced over, tilting his head toward Miss Honey, who was currently kneading her little paws into his thigh. “I mean, she’s got us, but, like… I bet she’d like a friend.”

You stared at him, narrowing your eyes. “Joe.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, tone easy, like he wasn’t suggesting something huge. “She’s got so much energy. I think she’d like a buddy.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”

Joe grinned. “Just think about it.”

And just like that, the conversation had started. And you had been so firm about it. Absolutely not. No second cat.

Miss Honey was thriving—happy, healthy, and fully attached to both of you. The idea of bringing another cat into the house felt risky. What if she didn’t like it? What if she got territorial? What if she felt betrayed?

Joe, of course, had started planting the idea like a damn politician.

“I just think she gets bored sometimes,” he would say casually while Miss Honey chased her own tail in the living room.

“She’s got a lot of love to give,” he mused one night, watching her rub up against every single one of your ankles like she was making the rounds.

“She needs a little sidekick,” he argued as she sprawled out dramatically on the kitchen floor, meowing at nothing in particular.

You shot him down every time.

Until, of course, fate decided to step in.

It was a random Saturday, and you and Joe were out running errands—nothing special, just a casual grocery run. You had been debating what kind of bread to get (Joe insisted the multigrain one tasted just as good as white bread, which was a blatant lie), when something caught his eye.

“Babe,” Joe said, suddenly abandoning the cart and heading toward the entrance. “Look.”

You turned, frowning as you followed his gaze.

Right outside the store, under a big white tent, was a cat rescue group—volunteers standing beside crates filled with tiny, curious faces.

A pet adoption event.

Joe immediately turned to you, eyes lighting up. “This is a sign.”

“No, it’s not,” you argued, grabbing the cart. “It’s just Saturday.”

“It’s a sign.”

You groaned as he practically dragged you toward the tent, already grinning like he had just won the lottery.

And then you saw them.

The kittens.

Tiny, wiggly little things with big eyes and oversized paws, rolling around in their blankets or climbing the sides of their enclosures with impressive determination.

You told yourself you were just looking.

Joe was crouched down almost immediately, eyes scanning the different crates as the volunteers smiled at him.

“You guys looking to adopt?” one of them asked.

Joe grinned. “Maybe.”

You shot him a glare. “We are not looking to—”

And then you saw her.

A tiny gray tabby, tucked in the corner of her crate, nibbling sleepily at her own paw. Big round eyes, the softest little face, and an expression that screamed, Yeah, I know I’m cute.

You inhaled sharply.

“Oh no,” Joe murmured, catching the look on your face.

You glanced at him, then back at the kitten.

“… I wanna hold her.”

Joe grinned. “Knew it.”

The second the volunteer placed the kitten in your hands, you were done for. She was so small, her little body barely bigger than your palm. She meowed—tiny and sweet—before immediately nuzzling into the crook of your neck, purring like she had just found home.

Joe, watching intently, exhaled a laugh. “Oh yeah. We’re done for.”

That night, you walked into your house as a two-cat household.

Miss Honey was not immediately sold.

The introduction process was slow—gentle, cautious. You followed all the steps, kept them separated at first, let them get used to each other’s scent. But, much to your surprise, Miss Honey didn’t react with any real aggression.

Mostly? She just seemed deeply confused.

The first time she saw the kitten, she just stared, tail flicking, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.

Joe, crouched beside her, grinned. “You got a little sister, Honey.”

Miss Honey turned her head, fixing him with a look.

You laughed. “I don’t think she asked for one.”

Still, within a few days, things started shifting.

The kitten—who you decided to name Fig—was relentless in her pursuit of Miss Honey’s love.

She followed her everywhere, mimicked her every move, and—on more than one occasion—attempted to curl up against her, only to be met with a single, unimpressed flick of the tail.

But then, one morning, you woke up to find them curled up together on the couch—Miss Honey’s paw resting protectively over Fig’s tiny little body.

Joe, standing beside you, smirked. “Told you she needed a buddy.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt full.

And that’s how you and Joe became crazy cat people.

[bvlgum]

୨୧ GETTING SHIPPED WITH ANOTHER IDOL

𓇼ㅤ 𓈒ㅤ 삶 ㅤ───ㅤ "   WARNINGS; “ fluff, jealousy, mention of other idols, fem!reader (idk), established relationship,

Making use of my millions of accounts lol, I honestly forgot this account existed but now I’m here :P

MANON

Girly was trying to control her temper the moment a ship edit popped up on her fyp. She opened the comment and typed out. “They’re not together y’all!! They’re probably just friends, who you should be suspecting is manon and yn. I mean don’t they look so cute together?” A sly smirk crept up to her face as she felt proud of herself for typing that on her secret account. More pride shook her when more manyn edits began to pop up.

SOPHIA

Was probably trying her best to seem nonchalant and easy about it the moment a video pops up on her fyp but the her sulky expressions says it all. “Hey yn since when did this happen?” She called out for you rushing to meet you in the kitchen. “Huh what’s that?” You asked trying to get a glimpse of what she was showing on her phone. “Oh ah! It’s my most recent photoshoot why?” You asked trying to stifle in your laughter from looking at her face. “Well I don’t like it! Now people think you and wonyoung have something together” she whined. “Don’t worry baby, it’s just a photoshoot, if you want I could beg my manger to fix one with you soon?” “Omg yes yes yes, I’d love that” her silky expressions immediately vanished and was now replaced with a more cheerful one.

DANIELA

They look so good together “Hmm what an odd thing to say” Daniela watched with a frown as fan gushed about because of the minimum amount of interaction between you and newjeans minji. Meanwhile the both of you are practically flirting on camera and no one seemed to bait an eye. “Do you like her?” Daniela randomly asked out of the blue. “Umm no, she’s just a friend of mine” you answered shrugging off her possessive glare. “Okay that’s nice, don’t let it exceed friendship or else….” She paused with a playful threatening gaze.

LARA

Lara sat on the rolling chair, reading some Wattpad stories like fans had suggested when suddenly a story title caught her eye. She clicked on it and read the title with a straight face. “Y’all whoever wrote this title alone needs to arrive at the asylum right now” she spoke, her lips forming into a think line after. It was like her gaze was solely focused on whatever was on the screen. “I’m gonna report this” she said with a frown. Fans would guess that “oh maybe it was something inappropriate” but in reality it was a ship book of you and a male Kpop idol.

MEGAN

Megan was trying to hold her fake smile the more a fan gushed about how you and lesserafim eunchae would match together. The fan talked about how there was a certain chemistry between you two. Megan had heard enough and decided to cut the convo short. “Do you know who she looks amazing with?” Megan asked a fake glint of excitement in her eyes. “Who?!” The fan asked also feeling a thrill of excitement. “Me”. The fan squealed “oh ye— what?”

YOONCHAE

It all started when she woke up to check her social media and the first thing that pops up was a ship edit of you and newjeans haerin, with the editor adding a soft love song which didn’t help at all. The fans comments even made it worse with comments like; my haeyn 🥹, gosh how much I love seeing them interact on stage it’s so cute. The urge to reply and say “you’re just being delusional she’s with me!!”. Throughout the day you noticed yoonchae acting all sulky and pouty which lead you to confront her about what had happened.

[gf2bellamy]

Hi! So… glasses was perfect, better than I could ever imagined. I’m in desperate need of a part 2 (if possible and you’re feeling inspired to write one)

I was thinking that maybe reader gets payback for all the teasing Spencer has been doing. I would also love to see confess they’re into each other. I don’t know, I’m just craving something super cute around glasses!Spencer because I feel he’s underrated and deserves so much love!

Anyway, take your time and thank you so much!!!!!! 💞

glasses ( part two ) — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: hi hi !! i hope you like this !! also this is part two to glasses but you don't have to read glasses to understand this one <3

It started with Elle.

You had been completely oblivious. But Elle? Elle saw it immediately.

One day, she pulled you aside, her expression unreadable, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. She handed you a small tube of lip gloss, the same one she had seen you apply absentmindedly before.

"Reapply," she instructed simply.

You blinked at her, confused. "What? Why?"

She smirked, tilting her head toward where Spencer sat at his desk, poring over case files. "Just do it. And then watch Reid."

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying to decipher whatever game she was playing, but she only raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your confusion.

"Elle," you tried again, but she just patted your shoulder and walked away.

So, with no real reason not to, you did as she said. You pulled out your lip gloss, twisting open the cap before carefully swiping it over your lips. The faint scent of vanilla filled the air as you pressed them together, ensuring an even coat. Then, feeling a little ridiculous, you turned your attention toward Spencer.

And that’s when you saw it.

The second he glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes locked onto your lips. His gaze lingered, just a fraction too long.

Huh.

Interesting.

You bit back a smirk, tilting your head slightly as if deep in thought. You pretended not to notice how Spencer was still staring—how he fumbled with his pen, flipping it in his fingers before dropping it completely.

Oh, this was good.

The best part? It wasn’t just a one-time thing. Now that Elle had pointed it out, you started noticing it all the time.

Spencer Reid, with his genius IQ and encyclopedic knowledge, was absolutely, hopelessly distracted by your lips.

So, naturally, you had to have a little fun with it.

Right now, the two of you had just finished lunch and were heading back to the BAU. It was paperwork day—arguably the least exciting part of the job—so you had to find some way to make things interesting.

And what better way than messing with Spencer?

As the elevator doors slid shut, Spencer launched into one of his many tangents, this time about a newly opened museum. His hands moved animatedly as he spoke, fingers gesturing in the air as he rattled off historical facts.

"—and what’s really fascinating is that they’ve reconstructed artifacts based on 3D modeling of unearthed fragments. They even have an interactive exhibit where visitors can—"

He turned his head toward you, mid-sentence, just as you reached into your bag and pulled out your lip gloss.

Casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world, you twisted the cap open and swiped the applicator across your lips, pressing them together for good measure. The subtle shine caught the dim elevator light, and when you flicked your gaze back up at Spencer—

Oh.

Oh, this was too easy.

He had completely short-circuited.

His mouth was still slightly open, like he was about to finish his thought, but no words came out. His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your face, then back down—as if his brain was refusing to cooperate with him.

"You were saying?" you prompted innocently, capping the lip gloss and tucking it away.

Spencer swallowed thickly. "I—uh, the, um…" He blinked rapidly, pushing his hair back in frustration. "The… the museum," he finally managed, though it came out weaker than intended.

"Right," you nodded, biting back a smile. "Something about 3D modeling?"

Spencer exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly realizing what had just happened. His jaw tensed for a moment, like he was debating whether or not to call you out on it, but then he just shook his head, letting out a defeated chuckle.

But as you stepped out, you felt the warmth of his hand brush against yours, his fingers just barely grazing over your skin before pulling away.

And, well.

Maybe you weren’t the only one playing games.

The second time you messed with Spencer was in the morning.

You suppressed a yawn, still trying to wake up, when suddenly a coffee cup landed on your desk with a soft thud. You blinked in surprise, looking up to see Spencer standing there, holding his own coffee while he plopped the extra one down in front of you.

"Oh my god, thank you," you said, wasting no time in reaching for it. Without hesitation, you took a sip, sighing in appreciation as the warmth spread through you.

Spencer gave a small, pleased smile. "Do you need help with—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Completely froze.

His mouth hung open for a beat, and his eyes flickered—first to your face, then down to the cup in your hands.

Confused, you followed his gaze, looking down at your coffee cup. And that’s when you saw it.

A small, perfectly shaped imprint of your lip gloss stained the rim.

You barely had time to process it before Spencer looked back up at you, his expression somewhere between dazed and fascinated. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his fingers twitched against his own coffee cup like his brain was desperately trying to reboot.

Oh. Oh.

This was almost too good.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. "Spence?"

No response. He was still staring.

You suppressed a grin, watching as his lips parted, like he wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came out. Instead, he licked his lips absentmindedly, his gaze once again flickering to your cup before darting back up to your mouth.

"Everything okay?" you prompted, leaning forward slightly.

Spencer visibly jolted, like he had just snapped out of a trance. "Uh—yeah! Yes, um… fine. Totally fine."

You raised an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. "Are you sure? You kinda just… stopped talking."

"I—no, I just—" He let out a short, awkward laugh, pushing his hair back. "I, um… lost my train of thought."

Your smirk deepened. Bingo.

"Must not have been important, then," you mused, taking another slow sip from your cup—making sure to leave another lip print behind, just for good measure.

Spencer's gaze dipped to it again, and you swore you saw the tips of his ears turn red before he cleared his throat and walked away.

You watched him go, utterly delighted.

This was way too much fun.

He was fine. Totally fine.

Or, at least, that’s what he kept telling himself as he all but fled from your desk, gripping his coffee cup like it was some kind of lifeline.

But he wasn’t fine.

Not even a little bit.

Because now, all his brain could focus on was your lips.

And the way your lip gloss—shiny qne slightly tinted—had left the faintest mark on the rim of your coffee cup.

It should’ve been such a minor thing. Just a simple, fleeting detail. But his traitorous brain had decided that, no, this was now the most fascinating thing in the world, and it refused to think about anything else.

And the worst part?

You knew.

Spencer knew you knew. The way you had tilted your head, the way your lips curled into that barely-there smirk, the way you had taken another sip—slowly, deliberately—just to leave behind another lip print.

It was calculated.

It was a game.

And he was losing.

He groaned internally, practically collapsing into his chair at his desk, scrubbing a hand over his face.

This wasn’t fair. You weren’t fair.

And soon enough it all blew up.

You were standing beside Spencer’s desk, waiting for him to finish packing up his bag so the two of you could head home. It had been a long day—filled with paperwork, caffeine, and your ongoing mission to see just how flustered you could make Dr. Spencer Reid.

(So far? Extremely flustered. Success rate: 100%.)

You sighed softly, shifting your weight from foot to foot, watching as he meticulously arranged everything in his bag like some kind of human puzzle. It was endearing, really—how precise he was about everything. But it also meant that waiting for him to be done took forever.

But just as Spencer was slinging his bag over his shoulder, something caught your attention.

Across the bullpen, Gideon and Hotch were whispering to each other.

And not just casual, offhand whispering, either. No, this was a serious discussion—low voices, furrowed brows, the kind of conversation that made your curiosity spike instantly.

“Spencer, look,” you whispered, nudging his arm and nodding toward them.

Spencer followed your gaze, adjusting his bag slightly. “What about them?”

You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice. “Can you read lips?”

Spencer turned his head to you, and that was his first mistake.

Because in the process, he suddenly realized just how close you had gotten.

Your face was inches from his, your breath warm against his skin. Your lips—still glossed and shiny from whatever devilish brand you insisted on wearing—were parted slightly as you focused on the two men across the room.

And Spencer?

Spencer malfunctioned.

His brain short-circuited again, completely abandoning the concept of words.

Because all he could think about was the fact that no one should look that good while whispering about FBI superiors.

You noticed immediately.

And, because you were you, you pounced.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, turning to him fully, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Did you just—? Again?”

Spencer blinked rapidly, adjusting his bag strap like that might somehow fix the situation. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your smirk only deepened. “Spencer, I asked you to read lips, not stare at mine.”

“I wasn’t—I wasn’t staring!” he protested quickly, but his voice cracked just slightly, and you knew you had him.

You leaned in again, tilting your head playfully. “Are you sure? Because I think you like my lip gloss a lot.”

Spencer immediately turned red.

“I—I do not—”

And that’s when it hit you.

You had been teasing him for weeks now, enjoying how adorably awkward he got every time you applied your lip gloss in front of him. But why did he get flustered?

Why was he staring at your lips in the first place?

Your smirk softened into something softer, something a little more real.

“You know…” you started, voice quieter now. “You could just ask me out, Spencer.”

His eyes widened. “I—what?”

“You heard me.” You raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze. “If you like me, you could just… ask me out.”

Spencer opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking thoroughly overwhelmed.

“You—you’d say yes?” he asked hesitantly, like he genuinely couldn’t believe it.

You laughed softly. “Spence, I would’ve said yes ages ago.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then—

“Would you, um… like to go out with me?” Spencer blurted, his words rushed but sincere.

You beamed. “Yes, genius. I would.”

Before he could process that, you leaned in and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.

When you pulled back, you definitely saw the way his breath caught—the way his fingers twitched at his side, the way his gaze flickered down again.

“You like my lip gloss so much,” you teased, tapping his cheek lightly, “now you’ve got an imprint of it.”

Spencer blinked. Once. Twice.

You grabbed your bag, completely casual. “Ready to go?”

He just stared at you, like his brain was still buffering.

You had definitely broken him this time.

Suppressing a laugh, you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the exit.

Yeah. This was your best idea yet.

[paddockletters]

redeemed | lando norris part 2

masterlist | previous part | next part summary: memories of friendship with lando, valentine's day together and more author's note: hope you all like this serie. if you want to be added to the 'tag list' please let me know in the comments

years ago 2020

lando

Liked by carlossainz55 and 6,261 others

lando: Two idiots, one friendship. What could go wrong?

View all comments

user1: THE WAY SHE'S SMILING??😭💖

user2: this friendship is the only thing holding me together rn

user3: lando calling it ‘friendship’ like we don’t all see the heart eyes👀

yourbestfriend: Two idiots is generous. I’d say one and a half

↪ lando: y/n is the one, right?

user4: what could go wrong? EVERYTHING, LANDO. EVERYTHING😭

user5: this is the type of bestie energy I want in my life

carlossainz55: I'd say more like two disasters

↪yourusername: i thought you liked me 🤧

yourusername

Liked by lando and 12,862 others

yourusername: friends who match shoes together, stay together...or at least until he bullies me for something again🙃

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carlossainz55: so when do I get mine? team bonding, right?

user1: this is the kind of friendship I need in my life—matching shoes and endless bullying (by someone like lando)

user2: if my bestie doesn’t agree to matching shoes, are they even my bestie??

user3: lando and Y/N are literally two chaotic siblings who accidentally found each other

lando: excuse me?? I would NEVER bully you. I simply point out your many mistakes with love

↪ yourusername: see? bullying

↪ lando: it’s called character development

user4: the way they act like an old married couple but claim to be ‘just friends’ is sending me😭

user5: @ mclaren better start selling shoes with theri "ship" on because I need them rn

yoursername posted stories

yoursername posted stories

lando posted stories

yourusername

Liked by lando and 29,652 others

yourusername: Another year of aggressively single and thriving but valentine's with my favorite people💗

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user1: Okay but why is her and Lando’s friendship actually goals? 😭

user2: Y/N looking gorgeous with her friends but let’s be real, we were all waiting for the Lando pic

best friend: you literally bullied Lando into getting you a proper Valentine’s gift. Queen behavior 👑

girlfriend2: the dinner was cute but let’s talk about the fact that you spent the day with Lando… again 👀

lando: I am an EXCELLENT Valentine, you don't need anything else

user4: the way they’re both aggressively single but only with each other 😭😭

user5: lando posting about her and now she posts about him?? Y’all… I’m connecting dots.👀

user6: "aggressively single” but she’s always with Lando?? Girl, be serious

user7: his fans deserve better than this forced friendship

user8: bro, let people have friends 💀

user9 I just KNOW his ex is somewhere rolling her eyes at this

user10: probably, but not our problem 🤭

tag list

@hadesnumber1daughter @harrysdimple05 @royaleaxis

[wiinterz]

: •̩̩͙ ໋ CALM DOWN ˖ Sevika.

sevika x plus size-fem!reader

genre(s) - drabble, lesbian erotica, older x younger

description - sevika loves putting you through it.

warnings - profanity, tribbing, pet names (baby, good girl,), sevika is thirty-two while reader is twenty (don't like it, don't read it), not really detailed, semi mean!sevika(?). 18+ only, minors & men dni.

word count - 422

tay's letter 💌 - don't ask why it sucks, i have thoughts that won't stfu sometimes (sorry i gotta come at you that way). i wrote this at two a.m. so that's another reason...welp! (repost cause tumblr hates blk women)

rules I arcane masterlist.

You can’t tell me Sevika doesn’t like tribbing; she loves it and literally needs it to boost her ego sometimes. Especially with how whiny you get after all her teasing.

Your panties, stuck to your wet cunt, making a mess of yourself while Sevika kept smacking your twitching pussy. She was fully naked, freed from the distressful day. You, being her sweet little thing, asked if you could help her wind down, of course, she would say yes. With you wearing your cute shorts with her t-shirt on, a sight like that would make anyone crumble.

What you didn’t expect was for her to pick you up, place you over her shoulder, and plop you down on your shared bed. Now, she’s sitting on her legs, pulling your panties down as you whine, begging for her touch, for her cunt to touch yours. “Oh, you’re such a whiny lil’ thing, aren’t you? Hmm?” She chuckles, watching you look a bit annoyed but she knew you truly weren’t. But who was to be blamed? Sevika? Oh, definitely not, she just enjoys toying with you, what’s so wrong with that?

Sevika, opened your leg, getting herself switched to be on top, her pussy hovering over yours. Her grey eyes stared directly at your face, her fingers, brushing against your stomach, touching your stretch marks before grinding her pussy against yours slowly. “Fuck that’s it, baby, take it like the good girl you are.” She moans, leaning her head forward a little, your leg over her shoulder as she continues to grind against you. All you could do was moan, you had no control over your body, you felt helpless and she knew that. And fuck did she love it.

Sevika takes her time with you, wanting to make this an enjoyable time for you also, she knows how to angle herself enough for where you both get pleasure, there’s no doubt about that.

Both of your cunts are slick and wet, each time she pulls herself up from you a little before grinding against you. You moan, gripping the pillow, “fuck~ that’s it, baby, that’s it, you got it.” She lets out breathlessly. Her pussy pulsating with yours, making you both moan out loudly.

The sounds of your pussy meeting together and your moans mixed become louder, not caring about the thin walls anymore. She needed this and you knew it.

Which is why, you enjoyed it every time she gave you that look when you asked, “How can I help you wind down, baby?”

[bitchface24-7]

What if Viktor was more than a Yandere, he was a pervert with the reader, and the reader was a very oblivious person. Note: Viktor and the reader are not in a relationship, and the reader only sees him as a friend.What could possibly happen? To our innocent and oblivious reader...

THE PERVERTED GENTLEMAN - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you and Viktor have been friends for as long as you can remember. You used to have the biggest crush on him, but you realized he'd never like you back; always so focused on his work. So you let the feelings go, but a teeny tiny bit is still there. Viktor's a total gentleman, you wouldn't think so if you knew what was going on inside his head…

warnings: perverted!viktor, obsessive!viktor, yandere tendencies, stealing items, lack of personal space, oblivious!reader, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I know it was said R only sees V as a friend but c'mon… if I was his friend id have a massive crush on him, and I assume ppl who read this got a crush on him as well. So we had a crush on him in the past in this, and still hold a sweet spot for him

You and Viktor have been friends for as long as you can remember. You always stuck by one another, like you were glued at the hip. You two were together for every milestone.

Obviously Viktor was a cute kid, and he grew into a very pretty teen, into a handsome man. You had the biggest crush on him growing up, you'd write about him in your diary like a lovesick fool in those romance novels you'd read. Eventually, when you hit your mid-twenties, the crush faded. You still hold a tremendous soft spot for him, the crush lingering in the back of your mind, but you'll never act on it.

Viktor's a man of science, married to his work. If you can't have him romantically, you'll make damn sure you can keep him platonically.

If only you had the ability to look inside his mind. Read his thoughts and opinions. You can read him incredibly well, but his mind is a puzzle you're aching to solve.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor has loved you since he understood the concept of love.

You're his person, you always have been. When other kids ignored or made fun of Viktor, you stood up and fought back. You kept him company, you were interested in his contraptions. You’re perfect.

Not to mention how wonderful you are as a person. How beautiful. A cute kid, a pretty teen, a stunning adult.

Viktor has always been possessive over you. His hands on your shoulder, your back, your waist, your hips. Sharing a bed to sleep, sharing clothes, gifting you items to wear. His favourite one is a necklace with a V charm on it. You never take it off, and it makes Viktor smirk every time he sees it on you.

He has swippy hands. Items he’s… borrowed and never plans to return. A shirt here, a half-full bottle of your favourite fragrance, hair ties, chapstick, his most cherished item is a pair of your underwear. It’s soft, black, and cozy. One day you came over after a rainstorm and Viktor insisted you shower, as to not get a cold. He put your clothes in the dryer and fibbed that… the undies got lost. So he gave you a pair of boxers to wear instead.

You didn’t question him, didn’t even think he may be a dirty little pervert that stole your undergarment. You just smiled and took the boxers without any hesitation.

Viktor’s wanted you for what seems like a millennia. You’re in his thoughts, his dreams, his fantasies. If he’s not working, he’s thinking of you. It infuriates him.

Everything comes to a head when Viktor comes over to you house one day, and snoops in your room, finding your old diary.

Pages upon pages of unconditional love and lust is poured out into the book. Viktor feels his heart racing as he reads more and more of your love and untameable lust regarding him.

He doesn’t stop reading when he hears you enter the room and gasp. He doesn’t stop reading when you start to plead with him to give the diary back.

He just casually closes the book when he’s done and looks at you with a smirk.

He sees you gulp as you look down, unable to look him in the eye.

He feels like a spider who finally got their prey into their web.

Viktor’s gonna fulfill his fantasies, and he’s gonna make sure it ruins you for anyone else.

You are his after all.

🙏🙏🙏

He’d be one of the only men I’d be okay with perving on me. If he asks nicely, I’ll even pose for him ❤️

[celeste-clearwater-06]

The Kitchen Window (pt. 6 - the epilogue)

Bayverse! Raphael x Fem! Reader

desc- (Raph has to make his intentions clear to you and to whatever it is that you two are)

warnings - none

word count - 2.5k

READ PREVIOUS PARTS BEFORE THIS

“I look stupid, Mike.”

“Nah, bro you look great!” Raph’s younger brother is looking his outfit up and down, trying to perfect any wrinkles or stray threads, “She’s gonna love it, trust me.”

Raph scuffs his new air force’s on the cement, while the other turtle straightens the collar of the graphic tee up around his neck. Maybe he could lend his fashionable little brother a bit of slack. Mikey knew a lot more about this stuff.

It’s early August. Summer’s fleeting, to warm days and cooler nights, which are perfect for this exact occasion.

Raph has been a mess of fluttering nerves all week trying to set this date up, with the help of his brothers and April. Every little detail, meticulously planned.

At first he was gonna do it on his own, in secret. Come to your door, trip over his words and fumble the bag, because lord knows he’s not good with expressing his feelings.

Thank god for April and his siblings, though it hurt his ego a little to come to them and admit he didn’t know how to set up a lousy dinner. Of course they were happy to help. Mikey and April especially.

So now, the five of them were on the roof of your apartment complex and pulling together all of their different tastes and ideas to create this adorable little date for him and his girl.

Raphael didn’t know what the two of you were. After that bizarre (albeit fantastic) first kiss, his visits to you were so much more frequent. Even if it was quick, he’d make a pit stop to your window for a peck on the cheek that kept his spirits up for a long night's patrol. More often than not, you two would be chatting away in the late night hours. And then of course make out a little, with him hanging on the sill like a fool.

It was so great, and it filled Raph with something he didn’t know he needed. Every second he wasn’t with you, he counted down till the next time he'd meet your gorgeous face again, greeting him with a kind, welcoming smile that made his knees wobble. But that was it.

There wasn’t really a label. Not that he liked those anyway.

He just needed some clarity. Some sort of outwardly spoken agreement that you guys weren’t just really good friends who kissed and held hands and tried to hold in your laughter in the dark, trying not to disturb the peace of your neighbors.

“Oh this looks great.”

Raph watches the way April appreciates her work of a cute little vase of flowers on the center of a table, hands settled on her hips. Well, it’s less of a table than it is a large wooden crate with a nice-ish tablecloth, but it serves just the same. It’s not too extravagant, not too drab. Just right. It suits the mix of your different lives. Little, dollar store candles light the area with a warm haze, next to the tin containers filled with the meal you’d taught him to make months ago. He’s hoping it tastes as good as it did when you make it. Raph hasn’t told you how often he whips it up at the lair when he’s missing you.

“How’s lookout, Leo?”

The blue-banded turtle looks over his shoulder, where he’s crouched on the ledge right next to the fire escape ladder.

“All clear.”

Thankfully, everything seems to be coming together just as Raph wanted it to. It settles some of the butterflies that rage in his stomach. The time for one of his brother’s to go and fetch you from your apartment is growing closer and closer while Donnie is scooting the plastic folding chairs next to the crate.

He’s so not ready for this. A little voice is nagging in the back of his head to just back out now.

Raph knows you’ll at least like it. Just how you like everything else he does for you. He has no clue why this is so damn difficult.

“Alright, Raph.”

April clasps her hands together and looks up to him for approval.

“What do we think?”

He thinks it looks great. Raphael loves the gentle little glow everything gives against the dim light pollution that stretches out over the city. Will you?

“You’re a lifesaver, O’Niel.”

“Don’t forget it.”

He snorts.

“I guess it’s showtime then!”

Mikey attacks his older brother with a hug from behind.

“Aw come on Mike!” Raph’s trying to swat him off his shell, but not before his two other siblings, and April crowd him with an embrace, that eases the nerves running rampant. He rolls his eyes, but can’t hold back the grateful grin that breaks through his annoyance. Their words are encouraging and warm, fueling the confidence he’s so desperately been trying to grasp for all this time.

“You’re gonna be fine.”

“Trust us, she is gonna love it.”

Leo’s hand ruffles over Raph’s red bandanna.

“Go get em’, tiger.”

Ouf, what a cornball.

“Alright, alright!” They all break away from the group hug with excited smiles. This is home to Raphael. All his favorite people- well, most - in his corner of the ring and hyping his happy-ass up to romance a cute girl.

“Leo?”

“I’ll go get her for you.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Your apartment is warm. Over the weeks, the walls are filled with picture frames and cute decor that April and the boys have been bringing you. Polaroids of you and the boys are littered on your bedside table and posted on the fridge with little paw print magnets. Most of them are with or of Raph. Him sleeping with an open mouth, or being dog-piled on by Mike and Donnie. Your favorite is the one where you’re sitting on his shoulders, laughing, while he’s grinning into the camera flash. April took it, down in the lair, where he was parading you around after everyone had a few-too-many drinks. The once empty living space is now full of life and love and sooo, so many cat toys.

You’re on the livingroom floor now, playing with sweet Vannie to distract you from the lack of texts from your best friend. It’s been worrying you all day, that Raph hasn’t responded to any of your messages, even the funny memes, like the others you send him daily.

You’d given up on the last message, a little over an hour ago, though it doesn’t keep you from repeatedly glancing at your phone while your cat darts after the laser pointer across the carpet and onto the sofa. The little bell on her collar tinks quickly with each movement. She sees someone through your window before you. Two taps against the glass make your head whip around excitedly.

It’s not who you’re expecting, but Leo’s visit is still a nice surprise.

“Hey Lee!” You hide the disappointment with a happy smile that he returns.

“How’s it going?”

“Good! Good,” he doesn’t miss the way you’re trying to peek over his shoulder, “Have you heard from Raph at all? I couldn’t get a hold of him today.”

“Actually yeah.”

This perks your attention right back up, locking with his eyes that carry a mischievous glow.

“Oh! How’s he doing? He didn’t get hurt on patrol, did he?”

Leo chuckles.

“Nah. He’s been busy.”

Busy? Weird. Even if Raphael were kicking sorry ass, he’d text you back in a heartbeat. Something fishy was going on.

“Oh. Huh.”

“You wanna see him?”

That, you couldn’t say no to.

“Is he here?”

Leo knows, with the way you two talk about each other, that it’s love. He knows more than both of you. It's so funny how his younger brother and you will spend hours at a time just sitting in silence or talking about life, and then when you’re apart, all that one of you can think or say has something to do with the other.

“He’s up top,” his head gestures back up the fire escape. You’re already climbing out the window, while he and Vannie stare. Lee takes a hold of your arm when your foot reaches that first step. You look back at him with a puzzled stare.

“You gotta close your eyes.”

“What?”

It’s a surprise. That makes you nervous.

“Just trust me. I’ll take you up there, you just can’t look.”

Uh oh. You’re hesitant to follow his instructions, but his hand is already blinding your vision, and he’s scooping you of your feet. You shout in surprise.

“Leo, what’s going on?”

The only reply you recieve is his heavy footfall on the metal stairs. He has to take his hand away, but you keep your eyes clenched shut, partially to obey his order, but the other is so you don’t have to see how far up you might be from the ground below.

“This is freaking me out Lee,”

“I’m not gonna drop you.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Oh, he knows. He’s just great at keeping secrets.

The final, thudding footstep lands on concrete, and he sets you on the ground, steadying you onto your feet. Your breath is nervous, heart racing, senses heightened. You can hear the buzz of the city off in the distance. A cool breeze brush through your hair. The concrete scraping on your wooly socks.

“Alright, take a look.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Your eyes blink open. Then again. Your brain isn’t processing whatever is in front of you, until he speaks.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

Raph’s hands are shoved into the front pockets of jeans you’ve never seen him in. They’re new. So are his shoes, and the black, long sleeve tee that’s perfectly tailored to fit, and let his shell still breathe from the back. The casual clothes are incredibly flattering on him. You can still see the faint lines of his toned muscles under the cotton, catching in soft light. He’s so handsome, it hurts. And cute. GOD was he cute.

Shifting his weight, subtly from one foot to the other and smiling, anxious and bashful, while you stare at him in bafflement. Behind him is an adorable, candle lit dinner and your favorite flowers in a glass vase, all tuned with the ambient sounds of New York.

“Oh, Raph.”

His name comes out in a sigh, incredulous, full of shock and wonder. You take a few steps forward to better take in the effort he’s thrown into all of this. You’re nearly speechless, breathless, and trying to swallow the lump in your throat. He set up a date. A date! For you!

“You like it?”

His eyes are hesitant, but full of a childlike hope when they meet yours.

“Raph, this is… you did this?”

“Well, I had help. I ain’t this creative.” Raph chuckles nervously, nodding to where Leo was standing, now gone without a trace, “But… yeah.”

“For… me?”

You’re still so surprised at the sweetness of it all.

“Well, I’d hate to be up here eatin chicken and rice by myself all night, so yeah.”

He’s easing up, gentle grin mirroring yours.

“Raph this is so great!”

Like a kid, you all but skip over to look closer at the make-shift table and chicken and rice in their bowls, stream rolling off in the tepid air, while your fingers over the tablecloth. He’s laughing at your stupidly huge smile.

“I was hoping you might think so.”

You look up at him, face glowing in the candlelight.

“I know I haven’t been texting you back. Been a nervous wreck all day.”

His expression contorted into a soft gout of admiration, a soft smile, and even softer, green eyes. Your heart leaps. You know what that look is. You’ve seen it so many times in Raph’s face and now you’re putting it all together while he stands just feet from you. He’s so perfect.

You stride back over to him and let him take your hands in his. He’s nervous again, taking a deep breath.

“Look,” he begins, “I just… I figured if we’re a thing and all…Well, I wanna do this the right way. I hope it’s alright with you. I know it’s nothin’ fancy but…”

He groans, slapping hand over his face. You giggle at how he trips over his sentence.

“I had a whole, stupid speech for this shit. Now I just look like a fuckin’ idiot.”

Those fumbling, nervous words speak novels to you. He doesn’t have to say much for you to just get exactly what Raph is trying to say.

“I think… that sounds great,” your voice is soft, “And I also think I’m in love with you and I have had no idea what to do with myself, since the first day we met.“ you exhale the words like they’ve been trying to claw their way from your throat.

This catches him completely off guard. Raph’s eyes are as wide as they were the first night you kissed him. His nostrils flare. Before you think you’ve fucked yourself up royally, he pulls you up towards him in a soul-snatching kiss that depletes the air from your lungs, feet nearly leaving the ground. You’re desperately grabbing at the collar of his shirt to deepen it, but he pulls away, and lifts you completely from the ground in a tight embrace, leaving you both gasping for your breaths.

“Jesus, you have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear you say that,” Raph sighs next to your ear. “I love ya. A lot.”

His arms tighten further around you and you smell a nice cologne in the crook of his neck, where your head is buried.

He sets you back to your feet and lifts your chin with his finger for a much more gentle, passionate kiss, that you accept happily. His hand rests gently on your hip.

“You’re the best thing that coulda ever happened to a weirdo like me,” Raph’s forehead is pressed down against yours, with closed eyes.

“You’re better,” you counter. He gives your hip a squeeze, “Let’s be something. Even if it’s hard.”

He chuckles.

“Nothin’ I can’t handle, Sunshine.”

You’re both right where you belong, centimeters away from each other, smiling like idiots, and finally off that steep cliff that’s been taunting you for months. Raph is your home, and you’re his, far out of that little kitchen window.

A Polaroid click behind you just makes you shake your head with a flustered grin.

“Mikey, are you shittin me right now?”

You can hear his little brother shuffle back into whatever shadow he came from, laughing along with the rest of the party that's hidden away.

“Fuckin idiot.”

fin <3

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Oh no, wait...

What's this?

A gift for my dear readers?

Take a listen 🤭😝

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

I GOT YOUUU

I'VE BEEN SLAVING AWAY AT THIS SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THE FIRST CHAPTER, JUST TO GET TO THIS POINT MUAHAHAHA

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING (AND LISTENING!!) AS MUCH AS I DID CREATING THIS FUN LITTLE STORY!!!

The Kitchen Window was SUCH A FUN PROJECT, and I'm so glad I've been receiving all of your guys' support, interaction, and kind words 😭😭 as a token of gratitude, I decided to make that little audio clip that has been the death of me to create 🫠

Thank you all again SO FUCKIN MUCH

This concludes the 6 part story, The Kitchen Window 🩷💓💕

Please, LIKE, REBLOG, AND ASK TO BE A PART OF MY TAG LIST SO YOU DONT MISS OUT ON MORE WRITINGS LIKE THIS ONE

Till next time!

LOVE YA BABESSSS 💕💓🩷🌸🧼🫧

taglist - [ @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @milkytheholy1 @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell @fyreball66 @redsrooftopprincess @milykins @ahhhhhhhhhfuck @quitecontrary-to-mary @the-cauldron-witch @brins-rogers @yelocaltrashcan @pheradream-15 @asillysimp @miranexx @cinnamonskiss @le0n-ardo @silveritydreams @goldenflowerdragon @loveshrubs @glitterystarfishfestival @supersleepyslowpoke @floflodoesart @crimsonrubie ]

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

One step, two step, three step, ow! Part 2: Oliver starts taking the reader out on father-daughter dates, and Ollie goes all out (flowers, sweets, cute baskets of things, etc.). The others and Bruce realize this when they try to invite the reader to a family movie night, but she's busy going to Star City to watch a movie with Ollie and Dinah.

I didn't know so many people loved this one, lol. But I'm glad you all enjoyed it so much.

Oliver will honestly spend his time with the reader because the Batfam sometimes forgets to invite you to family events like movie nights, games, or anything really. So, your next best thing is to call up Ollie and spend the day with him, playing board games, destroying Ollie at Uno, and singing with Dinah. The bats will be so confused about where you are, only to find you doing archery lessons with Connor. You'll ask Ollie to take you to school dances, thinking that Bruce is too busy and doesn't care, only to discover he cleared his whole schedule just to find Ollie spending time with his little girl and dancing with him at some silly school dance. It drives the press crazy, and it drives Bruce crazy too. Oliver is stealing his daughter without even trying; he's picking you up for daddy-daughter dates. Bruce is growing more gray hair, and you're already replacing the Batfam with the Arrow family. Damian's rivalry with Connor will skyrocket; the beef they will have will be so one-sided. Like, how dare he steal my older sister, just for Connor to want to hang out with you at the arcade? It starts getting real bad when there’s a picture floating around Twitter of Ollie picking you up in the air while you laugh your face off. This leaves Bruce in shambles for a good few weeks until he literally bans Oliver from picking you up and taking you anywhere, same with Dinah—no, you guys can't bake cookies together It’s finally a night where you were never invited to family night before—no, but you are now—and they'll make you the center of attention, which makes you a bit scared. You're not used to everyone being so nice. It’s like you're on an episode of one of those prank TV series where the camera crew walks out and tells you it's a prank, but there's no camera crew and no boom mic hitting you in the back of the head. There’s no director saying "action." It’s just you guys in this big living room that feels cramped for some reason in front of this big flat-screen TV. Why is everyone looking at you play? Why is Tim pretending to be bad at Tekken 8? He’s a god at Tekken! What’s happening right now? Are you in an episode of the Twilight Zone? 'Cause why is it your turn, and why the hell are they playing to your whims like puppets on a goddamn string? Someone call Roy and get you the hell out of this house before they start gaslighting you into clearing your plans for the day and hanging out with them.

[princesslufiteab]

Literally thooo! Whenever i see clips of ppl breaking down his body language with miles its fuels my FlowerPunk/PunkFlower ship so hardddd!!! Even if its literally just a bro ship i love these two boys together so much!! Genuinely so cute! I need to break down and read hobies comics but lordy i cant be assed to get another subscription! (I dont wanna get physical copies mostly cuz i am afraid to ruin them, i should just get physical copies tbh)

Did you notice his face in this scene?

I genuinely think you can see how worried he was about Miles when they caught him.

(also his eyes 🩷)

As if he knew this was going to happen and Hobie was so frustrated that what he had already prevented had obviously happened 🥺

Nothing escapes him.

Then his movement when everyone approaches Miguel, when he moves his head a little and his body sways to the side slightly but subtly like "holy shit I'm fucking tired of this place"

And then he goes to help Miles seeing that they are all distracted 🥹

Now, this is my face when I think about this information:

[mixingandmelting]

hi hii <3 take as long as you need to get to this request or even ignore it if you want to <3

i was wondering what thoughts you have on the batboys dating a reader with a story like jason’s? like they died, maybe they worked for some group of assassins as a kid and died one mission. they get revived and obviously find that weird - also, they’re an adult? - and go back to the hometown of gotham and try to settle down. they actively go out as a ‘civilian’ undercover at night and save a few people from getting mugged maybe but they no longer kill. probably meets the boys because of this and then? i dunno i’m not a writer sorry 😭

A/n: did three of the five since Duke and Damian aren't adults yet 😔

Dick: Gradually Dating

If he had a nickel every time someone close to him was dead then revived using the Lazarus Pit, he’d have four nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened four times: Jason, Cass, Damian, and, now, you. It took a while for him to get closer to you, initially because he was impressed by your skills when taking those muggers only for him to be hook, line, and sinker for you. You’re everything he needed including all the ways he didn’t know he needed. He would be yapping and you would be listening to everything he says and keep it in mind. He could be in the foulest or darkest mood and somehow you’d be able to pull him out of it where he gets flustered when realizing he’s getting spoiled by you. 

He is very much pleased to say he, successfully, got together with you and is the happiest man in all of space and time. It’s a habit for him to pester you constantly with the goal being you cringing at the puns and word play he does. His hands are always on you, no matter the place, time, occasion. In your hands, on your shoulders, around your waist- 24/7 unless he’s on a long-distance mission. He’ll simply bombard you with texts on how much he misses you and asks if you miss him. All because he loves you and you’re cute but that talk is for another day.The only problem he has developed recently is not liking how Jason’s rubbing off on you ever since you met him. Blue will always be better than red and his discowing costume is a masterpiece what do you mean :( 

Jason: Buddies to Dating

The two of you hit things off right from the start when he first met you. Sure, trying to chat with you as you beat up a group of muggers wasn’t the greatest way to begin a relationship but hey. By the end of the night, you both bonded over having similar pasts and became trauma buddies. Having a person who understands what it's like to go through a crappy past like his made you become his go-to person whenever he’s in the dump and going through an episode. You laugh along and share his dark humor. You know the best ways to comfort him. You accept all of him including his flaws with no bias or judgement. Add all that to him thinking you’re stronger than him where you choose not to resent but rather overcome your past- his admiration developed into adoration for you. 

Nothing has changed once the two of you became official, other than him enjoying how he gets to physically hold you more to his heart's content. Really, he’s never been into showing affection but here he is, being the physical affectionate one out of the two of you because he likes making you flush from the simplest things like kissing you on cheek, rubbing circles on the back of your hand when holding hands . Especially in public, which he teases you about all the time. He’s definitely more tamed than Dick though, where he’s not constantly all over you 24/7, though at home, cuddling is a must. So is making sure everyone knows he’s yours and you’re the best person alive. Anyone who argues you’re not can suck it and talk to his fist. 

Tim: Denial to Acceptance

It was from investigating why the rate of mugging during the night dropped that led him to meeting you, after doing a background check on you prior. But color him surprised when you don’t like a certain group of people he knows that’s dipped in the Lazarus Pit. He thought it was out of curiosity and making sure you weren’t planning to become an underground crime-lord that he followed you around and chatted with you whenever he got caught (which was 90% of the time). It seemed like you were struggling and with how nice and kind you were towards everyone and him, he was only trying to help by leaving things you need after he leaves. Then you smiled and- oh shit, he actually likes you. 

It’s still a work in progress in terms of being more expressive in public where recently the two of you successfully hold hands comfortably without either of you getting too self-conscious. Same with the occasional hugs and pecks on the cheek. At home is a different story. He’s completely clingy. Working in your lap or you in his arms always wrapped around you as he follows you around the house, of course helping you out as he does. Displays every form of affection and the fact you reciprocate it makes everything even better. Not that he’s good at hiding it from others at the beginning when he’s always on his phone, texting you, and getting flustered when someone mentions you or you’re with him.

[bunnyfacedbaby]

rodrick bf headcanons? 💗🤗

࣪⠀⠀𓏵⠀⠀ ׅ　 Teenage dirtbag ⠀⠀ྀི

Bf!Rodrick Heffley x Reader headcanons˚ ⠀ 𓈒

⠀⠀♱⠀⠀ ׅ summary: Some fluffy little headcanons of Rodrick Heffley being your beloved loser teenage dirtbag boyfriend ♡

◟ ͜ ᛝ warning ! ⸝⸝ tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of disagreements but nothing too bad .ᐣ

◟ ͜ ᛝ 𝒢o back ? .ᐣ

⸝⸝ ﹒ ˖ ⁺ ༝ ۫　ℬefore you guys started to date:

You and Rodrick were classmates before you guys had gotten together.

Of course, Rodrick was drawn to you and your kind nature, but the poor boy was too nervous to actually go up and talk to you!

So most of the school-year he'd spend classtime watching you from his seat— Lovesick eyes intently locked on your form as all Rodrick would do was daydream about taking you out.

But the first time you guys actually talked was when the teacher was assigning partners for a project, and thus ending with the two of you being assigned together.

Rodrick was over the moon after finding out his partner was you, but he couldn't help but feel nervous about— well, everything.

You were just so perfect in his eyes, and he knew he couldn't blow it!

Gradually, you and Rodrick got to know eachother— Ultimately becoming the best of friends once he found out that you two shared the same love for music.

You two would be attached to the hip as the both of you would practically go everywhere together!

Rodrick would always invite you to his house, or some of the gigs him and his band did at local bars, he loved seeing your face everywhere he went !!<33

⸝⸝ ﹒ ˖ ⁺ ༝ ۫　𝒟ating:

Honestly when you guys started dating I feel like Rodrick wouldn't know what to do now that he's with you, he'd ask his mom for advice on what girls want.

" Mom? What do girls like? "

I feel like Rodrick would try to be the best boyfriend for you its sosososoooo cute :((

He'd try to take you out often or spend time with you, most of your dates were at the gas station, or napping on his bed.

Poor boy would feel so bad that he can't take you out anywhere fancy and expensive, please reassure him and tell him you love him!!<33

Rodrick would be the type of boyfriend that would show you off to everyone, whether it be his band-mates or his family— Especially Greg,

" Yeah, she's my girlfriend. You jealous or something? "

His mom would ADORE you, his father would be worried whenever Rodrick would do something stupid.

Rodrick would make sure to shower more often, and wash his band shirts with his mom's lavender scented laundey detergent instead of leaving them to rot on his bed.

Soft moments like cuddling on his bed while you comb through knots on his messy mop of hair makes him feel so warm and gushy.

Please remind this man to wash off his eyeliner because HE WILL go to bed looking like a panda.

He loves you so much that he'd have a hard time saying no to you.

If you guys ever get into a fight, be expected to hear tire screeches on your driveway and frantic knocking.

Rodrick would stand out on your porch with a plastic wrapped bouqet of flowers from the super market, a bag of your favorite snacks, and a burned CD of your favorite songs as an apology.

" Uh, here— And i'm.. Um, sorry. "

He just loves you sososososoooooooo much!! Hug him and tell him you love him aaa :((

[elleandstufff]

Only the Best for Our Girl ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Despite many setbacks, your two boyfriends want to make sure you have an amazing birthday <3

Thanos/Choi Su-bong x fem!reader x Nam-gyu 

Requested by @heartlivv !! Hope you had a happy birthday <3

Warnings: Stressful at first but then very fluffy, birthday surprises, Team Thanos cameo because I love them all, honestly just super cute stuff! <3 2k words

ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ

You groan as your phone alarm blares in your ears. You sit up and pull your phone from underneath your pillow to shut it up. It’s dark in your bedroom, but you still can see that neither of your boyfriends stir at your sides. The two of them were out late at the club–Nam-gyu working and Su-bong performing. You unfortunately couldn’t go because you had to be up so early for work. 

You scroll through your phone for a minute to wake yourself up. You already have a couple of birthday messages from distant great aunts and a random classmate you haven’t spoken to in years. You nearly groan. Your birthday. You haven’t exactly been dreading the day, but you haven’t been looking forward to it either. Last year you were sick on your birthday, and your festivities had to be cancelled. This year, you have to work on your birthday and you have no plans. 

You decide to stop wallowing and get up. You climb over Su-bong like you usually do, since he’s the heaviest sleeper out of the two of them. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t stir. 

You get yourself ready and to work on time. You spend the whole day working your ass off. Today conveniently ends up being twice as busy and stressful as usual. None of your coworkers realize that it’s your birthday either. It’s not like you want them to kiss your ass all day, but it would be nice if someone would at least acknowledge it. All employee birthdays are posted on the bulletin in the break room. You always told everyone else happy birthday, brought them little gifts even. You would just appreciate it if someone could tell you happy birthday, or at the very least not throw on responsibilities that aren’t even a part of your job. 

The thing that’s bothering you the most is the lack of texts from your boyfriends. Birthday texts started trickling in from your friends as they woke up. But your boyfriends didn’t text you once. Usually the three of you texted as much as possible throughout the day in your group chat. It’s a busy day, but you check your phone every break you get only for it to be void of messages from the two most important people in your life. After lunch you start to worry. They wouldn’t forget, right?

ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ 

Meanwhile, at your apartment, Nam-gyu shoots awake. He grabs his phone from the bedside table and sees the time. It’s way later than they were supposed to be getting up. He stumbles out of bed and rips the curtains open. The infiltration of light nearly blinds him, but does nothing to wake Su-bong. He sighs and shakes Su-bong awake. The ordeal takes several minutes until he sits up with a groan and reaches for his vape. 

Nam-gyu looks at him with wide eyes while Su-bong looks at him confused. He suddenly realizes and nearly chokes on his vape. 

“Shit, it’s our girl’s birthday and we slept in,” he says while coughing and swatting away the flavored vapor swirling around in front of his face. “I knew I should’ve cancelled that performance last night.” 

“Her birthday sucked last year, and we already fucked up this year,” Nam-gyu says. 

“Dude, we are not giving up!”

Nam-gyu looks down sadly. “There’s no way we would get it all done before she gets home.” 

Su-bong leaps out of the bed, his leg tangled in the sheet. He catches himself before he hits the ground, looking back at Nam-gyu with a goofy grin on his face. “You coming or what?” 

Nam-gyu follows after him, shaking his head. He had put together most of the plans and they were a lot. How the hell were they going to pull this off? 

Nam-gyu pulls the to-do list up on his phone and shows it to Su-bong. His eyes widen when he sees everything on it. “Shit. Where do we even start?”

“You go buy a cake, candles, and balloons. I’ll stop at the store on the corner and buy drinks and snacks. Then, I’ll come back and wrap all her presents.” 

Su-bong nods cartoonishly, before starting toward the bedroom to get presentable to the outside world. He stops halfway there and swivels to face Nam-gyu again. “Wait, what kind of balloons? And how many?” 

“Any, and a shit ton.” 

Nam-gyu starts getting himself ready as fast as he can. Su-bong probably isn’t the best person to send to get all this stuff, but they can’t be picky right now. 

He runs to the corner store to pick up a ton of sugary drinks, snacks, and ice cream. Back home, he almost forgets to put the ice cream in the fridge, but he remembers at the last second right before it melts. He pulls the pile of hidden presents from the closet. There’s so many that he has to make two trips to drag them all to the living room. They might have gone a little overboard with the presents this year. Actually, Su-bong had been the one that had bought you most of the presents. It was a lot, but they wanted your birthday to be special this year. 

Nam-gyu pulls out the wrapping paper that you had bought and used for both of their birthdays. He had meant to buy more, but the thought completely slipped his mind. He terribly wraps the first few presents before the wrapping paper runs out. He frantically grabs his phone to call Su-bong, but he hears buzzing. Su-bong’s phone is still sitting on the kitchen counter. Nam-gyu turns to the stack of newspapers and mail the three of you had been meaning to go through for weeks. Yeah, that could work. 

ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ 

Su-bong hurriedly walks into the third store of the day. Apparently, balloons were harder to find than he expected. He didn’t know the first thing about shopping. You usually did most of the shopping. If he needed something he would order it online. Now he didn’t have that option, nor did he have his phone to look up what stores sold balloons. 

He rounds the corner to find a wall full of balloons. He sighs in relief, but there’s so many options. Nam-gyu said it didn’t matter, so he grabs as many packages of purple balloons as he can. Next, he heads to a bakery and picks out a cake that he thinks you’ll like. He has the baker write happy birthday in swirly purple letters. He smirks to himself as he heads home. The balloons and the cake match. He’s not so bad at this afterall. 

Back at home, he finds Nam-gyu folding newspapers and torn-out magazine pages around your presents. “We ran out of wrapping paper and you left your phone so I couldn’t tell you to buy more.”

Su-bong dramatically taps his fingers against his chin in fake thought. “Hmm… That’s a really weird way to say thank you, Su-bong, for driving to three different balloon stores and a bakery in record timing.” 

Nam-gyu gives a slight smile. “It was pretty fast…” 

Su-bong starts blowing up the balloons and fastening them to the wall like the picture Nam-gyu showed him. Nam-gyu finally finishes with the presents and moves on to setting out all the snacks and drinks. Su-bong hurries as he blows up the balloons. After what feels like a ton of balloons, he looks up only to realize that the balloons he’s already done barely cover the corner. He didn’t realize blowing up balloons was this hard. 

He keeps blowing up the balloons, not even stopping when he hears a knock at the door. Nam-gyu swings the door open to reveal Se-mi, Min-su, and Gyeong-su. Nam-gyu greets them, while Su-bong absentmindedly mutters a hello. 

“Hello to you too, Thanos,” Se-mi chides. “What’s got the two of you freaked out?” 

“She’s going to be home in like an hour, and Su-bong is not even halfway through with the balloon wall,” Nam-gyu says, while Su-bong blows up another balloon until his face nearly goes blue. 

“Well, whose idea was it to have the guy who sleeps with a vape in his hand to blow up a hundred balloons?” 

Nam-gyu and Su-bong look between each other. She’s got a point. 

Se-mi gets to the floor to start blowing up balloons. She ushers Min-su and Gyeong-su over who had already started eating the snacks. Between the four of them, they’re able to get the wall filled up with shiny purple balloons merely minutes before you’re expected home. 

ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ . 𖥔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ˑ 

Your work day finally ends. With a sigh, you head out. You still never received a single text from either of your boyfriends. They must’ve forgotten. 

You feel utterly exhausted, so you stop to get a coffee. Hopefully with the caffeine you can stay up and at least do something with Su-bong and Nam-gyu, but it’s going to be an awkward conversation when you get home. 

You drink most of the coffee on the way home. When you get to the front steps of your apartment, you nearly trip and what’s left of your coffee falls to the concrete. Could this day get any worse? 

You unlock the door to find the house completely dark and quiet. They’re seriously not even home? 

You flip the switch on to see a wall full of balloons. Confused, you step inside. 

“Surprise!” Your boyfriends and best friends all jump out from various hiding places. 

Your hands fly up to cover your face in shock. Su-bong and Nam-gyu run at you with giddy smiles to envelope you in a giant hug. You can’t help the giant smile on your face as they kiss both of your cheeks. “I thought you guys forgot!” 

“Pssh! What? We would never forget!” Nam-gyu says. 

“Yeah, we would just accidentally sleep in and spend the day frantically getting things ready on time!” Su-bong says, and Nam-gyu discreetly elbows him. 

“So that’s why you haven’t texted me all day.” The realization dawns on you. 

Next, you turn to Se-mi, Min-su, and Gyeong-su to thank them for coming. “Your dorks can be pretty cool when they try to be,” Se-mi jokes while you hug her. 

The six of you spend a couple hours playing party games on the TV and eating a week’s worth of snacks. After a while, you move on to open the mountain of presents in the corner. “You can start with this one!” Gyeong-su hands you a nicely wrapped present. 

“That one is from the three of us,” Se-mi says, then whispers, “But actually it’s from me.” 

You thank the three of them even though it is obvious Se-mi picked the gift out and wrapped it. You move on to the other presents. A few of them are wrapped in actual wrapping paper. The rest are wrapped in crumpled newspaper or magazine pages. All of them are poorly wrapped with huge chunks of tape everywhere. 

“We ran out of wrapping paper…” Nam-gyu sheepishly mutters, but you think it’s sweet that he still went through the effort of wrapping them all. 

As you open the presents, you realize that these are all things you had wanted throughout the year. Some of the items you had seen online nearly a year ago. 

“Everytime this year that you said you liked something, I wrote it down in my phone. I wanted to make sure you got everything you wanted…” Su-bong says, and the room breaks into awwws. 

Once you get through all the presents, Nam-gyu pulls out the birthday cake and ice cream. “Candles?” he says to Su-bong with his hand outstretched. 

“Fuck…” Su-bong’s face drops as he realizes. “I forgot them. But, I have a cigarette we can use!”

He digs around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He sticks it in the cake and lights it as they sing happy birthday to you. When they finish with the song, you “blow” the cigarette out then snuff it out in the nearby ashtray. 

You sit around the table eating your cake and thinking about how lucky you are. 

Your boyfriends notice your quietness as the rest of your friends bicker over something. They each take one of your hands in theirs. “You okay?” Nam-gyu asks.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’m just really thankful for all this.” 

“Only the best for our girl,” Su-bong says.

“Only the best,” Nam-gyu repeats.

˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗

[russo-woso]

Our bubba || Alessia Russo x pregnant!reader

Masterlist

Warning labour and delivery

Summary After nine chaotic months, your bubba finally enters the world

“Come on, bubba. Please come soon. Me and mama want to meet you.” Alessia whispered against your bump, her thumb rubbing over it absentmindedly.

She had taken the day off - deciding not to go to training - and instead stay at home to support you in the final few days of the pregnancy.

You’d gotten to the stage where you were done with being pregnancy.

You just wanted your little girl here.

Your back was killing, Your feet were so swollen they looked like balloons and your whole body ached.

Alessia was doing everything she could - back massages, foot massages, everything.

Despite all her help, you were done with the pregnancy.

“She’s too comfy in there.” You joked, offering a small tired smile as your head fell back against the sofa in exhaustion.

“Bad night?” Alessia asked, her eyes full of sympathy as she pressed a few kisses to the top of your bump.

“Maybe two hours sleep? Your daughter really gets confused with day and night.”

“Sorry, baby. Why didn’t you wake me?” She whispered, her lips finding your cheek.

“You looked so cute when you were asleep.”

“My love, we’re in this together, you should have woken me up. How about I make you a cup of tea and you get into bed, have a nap and then we’ll go on our walk later.” Alessia suggested, as you nodded along. “Come on then, love.”

You’d woken up to an uncomfortable cramp in your lower bump.

It wasn’t painful - more so uncomfortable.

Alessia was sprawled out next to you, scrolling away on her phone.

You closed your eyes, seeking the sleep that you desperately needed.

Unbeknownst to you, your daughter had a different idea.

She decided to listen to Alessia’s words earlier that morning and decided that she was making an appearance today.

You’d closed your eyes for two minutes before the cramp turned into a painful sensation - a shooting pain searing across your bump.

You pushed it aside, the possibility of it being a braxton hick high.

But with no surprise, the pain appeared a few minutes later.

“Lessi?” You mumbled, attempting to turn to her but failing miserably as your body flunked back onto the maternity pillow.

“Hiya, baby. Nice nap?” She questioned, pecking your cheek a few times before resting her face in your neck.

“I think it’s time.” You revealed, watching Alessia’s cheeks turn from red to white in a matter of seconds.

“She’s coming?”

“I think so.” You smiled, an excited expression on your face - the complete opposite of Alessia’s.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s call the midwife.”

You’d spoken about the birthing plan when you reached the thirty week mark.

You’d been torn between having a hospital birth or a home birth but in the end you decided to go with a home birth - loving the idea of your baby being born in the house that you’d experienced everything in - from the moment you saw the two lines to the first kick and now the birth of your daughter.

“Lessi, I’ve just had the first contraction. I think we’ve got some time.” You explained with a chuckle, her panic being entertaining.

“Okay.” She breathed, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Our little girl’s coming.” You whispered, the realisation hitting.

“I love you so much for doing this for us, baby.” Alessia told you, kissing your temple gently.

“I love you too, although I don’t know if I’ll be saying that later.”

“I doubt it.”

The day had been filled with memories that would never be forgotten.

It had been long and painful but as soon as you heard the words - you can now push - you knew everything was worth it.

Your daughter was nearly here.

“She’s coming, baby. She’s so close.” Alessia whispered, rubbing your back as tears welled in her eyes.

You gripped her hand impossibly tighter as you felt the pain of the ring of fire.

“This hurts so bad.” You croaked, Alessia’s heart breaking at the sight of you in pain.

“I know, my girl. Our bubba’s so close though. I can see her head.”

You groaned as you felt a contraction coming.

You leant your arms on the bath tub, your head laying in them.

You pushed as hard as you could, encouragement from your midwife and Alessia urging you on.

“Her heads out now.” The midwife announced

“She’s got hair, love.” Alessia said with a smile, watching in awe at how your body was pushing itself to new limits to welcome your daughter into the world.

“Mum, would you like to deliver your baby?” The midwife asked Alessia who nodded - her face full of emotion.

You lifted your head up slightly, looking around the room.

You’d been in the bathroom every step of the pregnancy.

This was the room where you spent every morning throwing up, this was the room where you’d first seen them two lines and now this was going to be the room where your daughter enters the world.

The candles flickered as the soft tune of Never grow up filled the room.

In the background, you could hear the midwife explain to alessia on what to do.

You gritted your teeth as a contraction hit.

“Push, baby.” Alessia whispered gently, helping to guide your little girls head out. “You’re doing so so good, love. One more push.”

“I… it hurts.”

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry you’re in so much pain. Our little girls so so close. One more big push.” Alessia whispered, pressing a comforting kiss to your temple. 

You scrunched your eyes closed as you pushed for the final time.

“Baby, remember if it’s negative, we can try again.” Alessia said, her eyes finding yours as you sat on the toilet, your leg bouncing as you waited for the timer to go off.

You nodded, taking a deep breath in.

The timer rang, breaking the silence in the room.

After stopping it, alessia turned to you, kissing your head gently before reaching for the test.

“Ready?” She asked, as you nodded with a hopeful smile.

Flipping it over, Alessia’s breath hitched as she read the word over and over.

“Pregnant. You’re pregnant, love. We’re gonna have a baby.” Alessia exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes as she enveloped you in a hug.

“It worked?” You cried, pulling away from the hug, your hands resting on the back of Alessia’s neck.

“It worked.” Alessia confirmed before pressing her lips on yours.

The kiss was full of love and hope for the future that was growing inside of you.

Alessia’s thumb moved across your bump, a small flutter being felt before a hard kick.

Alessia looked up at you with wide eyes, checking with you to see if she felt the same thing.

“Did you feel it?” You asked her, and she nodded.

“Was that the first time?” Alessia’s questioned, you nodding before resting your hand over Alessia’s.

“They can tell their mummy is here.” You said, watching as Alessia smiled with tears in her eyes.

“Come on, bubba, kick for mummy again.” Alessia whispered, kneeling down in front of your bump.

The sun was setting as you laid on the blanket, the cake in front of you along with two wine glasses.

Alessia’s hand was entangled with yours, her other hand resting on your growing bump.

“Are we ready?” Alessia whispered, looking at the cake - boy or girl - written on top of it.

“I think so.” You smiled, the two of you grabbing a wine glass each before looking away from the cake.

“Three… two… one.”

You both pushed the glasses into the cake, still looking away before nodding to one another.

Turning your head, you were met with a bright pink cake.

“A girl. A baby girl.” You whispered, alessia kissing your head as you took in the memory that would last forever.

“A baby girl.” Alessia repeated, tears welling in her eyes at the thought of a daughter - your daughter.

A cry filled the room as alessia placed your daughter on your chest.

“You did it, baby. She’s here.” Alessia sobbed, a hand pressed against your baby’s back.

You looked up at alessia with tears running down your face before leaning in to press a kiss on her lips.

“Hi, bubba.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to your baby girls head. “I know, that was really tough, huh?”

“I’m so proud of you.” Alessia said, rubbing your back.

“Would you like to cut the cord?” The midwife asked Alessia who nodded, wiping her tears from her eyes.

The blade sliced through the cord as alessia smiled with pride, her eyes pooling with tears.

Your daughter’s cries died down as alessia rubbed her back gently.

“She’s perfect.” You whispered, your voice breaking as you peered down at the baby - your baby - on your chest.

“She is, baby. You did such a good job.”

“We did.”

The two of you continued to look at the baby in awe, a glimpse of the future and the hope it held flashing through your mind.

Alessia was lying on the bed, your baby girl on her chest, fast asleep.

The midwife had not long gone, having stayed for a few hours to make sure everything was okay with the both of you.

Your daughter was perfect - her weight, her reflexes, everything.

You were just closing your eyes when a small cry was heard from Alessia’s chest.

“It’s okay, bubba. Mummy’s here. I’m always going to be here for you, bubba. I’m going to be there when you take your first steps, I’m going to be there when you say your first word, when you score your first goal, when you start school. You’ve got so many amazing aunties who are also going to be there. And two uncles who are crazy but they love you so much. You really do have a lot of people who love you, little girl.” Alessia began, her voice soft as her hand rubbed the baby’s back, soothing her back to sleep. “You’re a dream come true for me and mama.”

“She really is.” You murmured, moving slightly to rest your head on Alessia’s shoulder.

“Me and mama love you so much, bubba.”

• alessia and y/nrusso posted •

Liked by leahwilliamsonn, ellatoone and 164,284 others

Florence Kaia Russo 🤍

[cei1ne]

—What the MHA men do for you on Valentine’s Day, aka the most romantic holiday! Pt.2

*♡∞:｡.Summary: Headcanons and Scenarios of a few MHA men on Valentine’s Day and what they’re doing and how they’re acting. Part 2!

✧༻Pairing: Shouta Aizawa (Erasurehead) ; Keigo Takami (Hawks) ; Enji Todoroki (Endeavor) ; Shoto Todoroki; Tenya Iida

❀°:.•Tags: Fluff ; Cute ; Love life ; Valentine’s Day ; Married ; Dating ; Tsundere ; Quiet lovers ; Gift giving ; Loving

•∘ɷ∘•°✿Wordcount: 13k

⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*A/N: Part two even if it isn’t Valentine’s Day anymore! And I hope I included everyone and if someone wants another character included, write it below and enjoy it! I tried my best and English isn’t my first language! I literally fell asleep while writing this so I didn’t post it yesterday I’m sorry!!! Anyways doing this omw home from school rn.

Part 1!

«───── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ─────»

—Headcanons of the MHA men

Shouta Aizawa

1. Minimalist but Meaningful: Aizawa isn’t one for flashy displays of affection. He believes love is shown through actions rather than extravagant gifts, so his Valentine’s Day efforts are always subtle but deeply personal.

2. Quality Time Over Everything: He cherishes a quiet evening with you more than anything. A cozy night in, wrapped in blankets with a cup of tea and a good book (or cat videos playing in the background), is his ideal way to spend Valentine’s Day.

3. Handwritten Notes: He’s not one for grand speeches, but he’ll leave you little notes throughout the day. Some are simple reminders like “Don’t forget to eat” or “Be safe,” but on Valentine’s Day, they’re slightly softer—things like “Thank you for being my peace” or “I love coming home to you.”

4. Subtle Protectiveness: Aizawa shows his love in quiet ways, like keeping you on the inside of the sidewalk or placing a protective hand on your back in crowded areas. On Valentine’s Day, he might not say much, but the way he instinctively reaches for your hand when walking tells you everything you need to know.

5. Soft but Rare Romantic Gestures: Every once in a while, he’ll surprise you with something small but meaningful. Maybe it’s a gift card to your favorite café, or a book you mentioned weeks ago. He remembers every little detail about you, even if he doesn’t always say it outright.

Teigo Takami

1. Over-the-Top Romantic: Hawks doesn’t do anything halfway, and Valentine’s Day is no exception. He’ll go all out—think extravagant gestures, surprise dates, and dramatic declarations of love. He wants to make sure you know just how much you mean to him.

2. Loves Giving and Receiving Affection: He thrives on physical touch, so expect lots of hugs, kisses, and playful touches throughout the day. He’ll tease you endlessly but will also drop unexpectedly heartfelt compliments that leave you flustered.

3. Sky-High Dates: If he could, he’d spend the entire day flying around with you in his arms, showing you breathtaking views. He loves the idea of sharing his world with you—literally. Sunset flights are his personal favorite way to celebrate.

4. Acts Like He’s Effortless (But He Secretly Plans Everything): He makes it seem like he threw the whole day together last minute, but in reality, he’s been planning for weeks. He wants everything to be perfect, even if he pretends he’s just winging it.

5. Loves Spoiling You: Expect a ridiculous number of gifts. From your favorite snacks to limited-edition merch of things you casually mentioned once, Hawks remembers every detail about you. He enjoys seeing your face light up when he surprises you with something special.

Enji Todoroki

1. Traditional but Awkward: Enji isn’t great with romance, but he tries. He’ll stick to classic Valentine’s traditions—dinner reservations, flowers, maybe a small gift—but there’s an underlying awkwardness to it because he’s still learning how to express affection properly.

2. Acts Stoic but Cares Deeply: He won’t openly gush about his feelings, but his actions speak volumes. Whether it’s making sure you’re safe, subtly adjusting the temperature so you’re comfortable, or paying attention to the little things you like, he shows love in his own quiet way.

3. Prefers Private, Intimate Moments: He’s not a fan of public displays of affection, but in private, he’s surprisingly tender. He enjoys peaceful evenings at home where he can relax and just be with you without the weight of his hero persona.

4. Overprotective Without Realizing It: If he sees someone flirting with you, his mere presence alone is enough to scare them off. He doesn’t mean to be intimidating, but his intense aura makes it clear that you’re his and no one should overstep boundaries.

5. Struggles with Words but Means Well: He might not say “I love you” often, but when he does, it carries a lot of weight. Instead, he expresses his feelings through thoughtful gestures—cooking for you, making sure you’re taken care of, or pulling you into a firm yet warm embrace.

Shoto Todoroki

1. Understated but Thoughtful: Shoto isn’t one for grand gestures, but he makes sure whatever he does is deeply meaningful. He’ll remember little details—your favorite flowers, a book you mentioned wanting, or a place you’ve always wanted to visit—and incorporate them into his plans.

2. Still Learning About Romance: Since he didn’t grow up around affectionate relationships, he sometimes struggles with expressing his feelings. He might ask his friends (or even Google) for advice, but in the end, he always puts his own quiet, genuine effort into making you feel special.

3. Prefers Private, Intimate Dates: He’d rather spend quality time with you in a peaceful setting than go somewhere loud or extravagant. A cozy evening at home, a walk through a snowy park, or a simple but meaningful outing is more his style.

4. Gives Sentimental Gifts: He doesn’t just buy random chocolates or flowers; whatever he gives you has personal significance. It might be a piece of jewelry with an engraving, a hand-written letter, or something that reminds him of a special moment you shared.

5. Subtle but Deeply Loving: Shoto isn’t the type to gush about his feelings, but he shows them in quiet ways—holding your hand just a little tighter, making sure you’re warm when it’s cold, or brushing your hair behind your ear when he thinks you’re not looking.

Tenya Iida

1. Extremely Organized and Thorough: Tenya treats Valentine’s Day like an important mission. He plans everything—the schedule, the restaurant, backup plans in case something goes wrong. He wants the day to go smoothly because he believes showing appreciation should be done properly.

2. A Perfect Gentleman: He insists on doing everything chivalrously—opening doors, pulling out chairs, walking on the side of the street closest to traffic. He sees it as his duty to make sure you feel cherished and respected.

3. Loves Meaningful Gestures: While he enjoys classic gifts like chocolates and flowers, he prefers giving things with significance. He’ll write you a heartfelt letter, compose a list of reasons why he admires you, or craft a personalized itinerary for a day that’s all about you.

4. Gets Flustered Easily but Tries His Best:He isn’t the smoothest when it comes to romance, and any teasing on your part will make him short-circuit a little. But he’s genuine—every nervous compliment, every overly enthusiastic gesture comes from the heart.

5. Believes in Long-Term Commitment: He doesn’t view love as something fleeting. If he’s with you, he’s serious about it. Valentine’s Day isn’t just about romance to him—it’s about reaffirming his dedication to you, now and in the future.

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—Scenarios of the MHA men

Shouta Aizawa

Valentine’s Day had never been a big deal for Aizawa.

He had always seen it as just another commercialized holiday—an excuse for florists to double their prices and for restaurants to be packed with couples forcing awkward, overly romantic gestures. But you? You had a way of making things different.

It wasn’t about the flowers or the chocolates. It wasn’t about expensive gifts or elaborate dates. It was about time—something Aizawa cherished more than anything. And if there was one thing he wanted to give you today, it was just that.

Which was why, instead of planning something extravagant, he left a simple note for you that morning.

“Meet me at home after work. Don’t be late.”

He didn’t need to say more. He knew you’d understand. Period we know our man

When you arrived that evening, the apartment was unusually quiet. The usual hum of the city was muffled through the closed windows, and the space was dimly lit by a few warm lamps.

You found Aizawa sitting on the couch, his hair still damp from a shower, dressed in his usual loungewear with his capture weapon loosely draped over his shoulders. The scent of freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, and next to him on the table was a second cup—waiting for you.

“You’re late,” he murmured, though his tone held no real annoyance.

You rolled your eyes, setting your bag down. “By like, five minutes.”

He hummed in response, patting the empty space beside him. Without hesitation, you sank into his warmth, letting out a content sigh as he pulled the blanket over both of you.

“This is nice,” you murmured, taking the tea into your hands. It was your favorite blend—just the way you liked it.

Aizawa exhaled, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your arm. “You work hard. You deserve a quiet night.”

A pause.

“And I wanted to spend today with you.”

Your heart swelled at the softness in his voice. You tilted your head up, pressing a small kiss to his jaw. “You’re kind of a romantic, you know that?”

He scoffed. “Don’t start.”

You laughed, settling deeper into his warmth. If this was his idea of Valentine’s Day, you wouldn’t change a thing.

_________________________________

He wasn’t one to make long, heartfelt declarations. He wouldn’t shower you in grand romantic speeches. But love, in its truest form, was woven into everything he did.

It was in the way he woke up earlier than usual to make sure you had coffee before work. The way he made sure you never skipped meals, even if it meant shoving a snack into your hands before you left the house. The way he always pulled you closer in his sleep, even if he swore he wasn’t a clingy sleeper.

And tonight, it was in the way he planned this—a simple, quiet night in, just the two of you.

“Did you eat today?” he asked after a while, his fingers still idly stroking your arm.

You gave him a sheepish smile. “Uh… kind of?”

Aizawa sighed, already expecting that answer. Without a word, he reached over to the coffee table and grabbed a small takeout bag, handing it to you. “Figured as much. I ordered your favorite earlier.”

Your eyes widened as you peeked inside, finding neatly packed containers of your go-to comfort food. The warmth of the meal seeped through the bag, making your stomach grumble in anticipation.

“You’re the best,” you mumbled, already opening the first container.

Aizawa smirked slightly. “I know.”

You nudged him with your elbow, and he let out a low chuckle before settling back into the couch.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with constant conversation. The occasional clink of utensils and the soft hum of the city outside were the only sounds that filled the space.

It was simple. Uncomplicated. Perfect.

And when you finished eating, Aizawa gently pulled you back into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you with quiet possessiveness.

“Comfy?” he murmured.

You nodded against his chest. “Very.”

Aizawa let out a content sigh, his chin resting atop your head. “Good.”

Because this? This was everything he needed.

_________________________________

At some point in the night, Aizawa shifted, reaching for something on the coffee table.

You blinked as he handed you a small envelope, the edges slightly creased from being in his pocket all day.

“What’s this?” you asked, turning it over curiously.

He shrugged, looking away as if he wasn’t mildly self-conscious about it. “Just open it.” We know damn well you got sweaty ass hands rn

You carefully tore the envelope open, pulling out a simple piece of paper. It wasn’t a store-bought Valentine’s card or anything fancy—just a plain sheet with his handwriting scrawled across it.

“You’re the best part of my days. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

It wasn’t long. It wasn’t overly poetic. But it was him. Straightforward. Honest.

And it meant everything.

Your chest tightened as you looked up at him. “Shouta…”

Aizawa cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s dumb, I know. But I figured you deserved more than just dinner and a quiet night.”

You smiled, carefully folding the note and holding it close to your heart. “It’s not dumb. It’s perfect.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, as if reassured by your reaction.

You set the note aside and leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Aizawa responded instantly, his grip tightening around your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss was deep, unhurried—filled with unspoken words that neither of you needed to say out loud.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your fingers tracing gentle patterns along his jawline.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Aizawa hummed, his fingers tangling in your hair. “For what?”

“For loving me in your own way.”

His lips quirked up at the corner. “You make it easy.”

You laughed softly, curling back into him as he pulled the blanket tighter around you both.

And as the night stretched on, wrapped in warmth and quiet love, you knew one thing for certain—Aizawa didn’t need grand gestures to show how much he cared.

Because love wasn’t just about words. It was in the little things. The quiet moments. The simple gestures that spoke louder than anything else.

And Aizawa Shouta loved you in every way that mattered.

Keigo Takami

You should have expected something extravagant from Hawks.

You’d barely woken up when a knock sounded at your door. Still groggy, you shuffled over, cracking it open to see a delivery worker holding an absurdly large bouquet—bright red roses with golden-tipped petals.

“Delivery for Y/N,” they said cheerfully.

You accepted the flowers, your sleepy brain still processing the fact that Hawks had gone this over the top already. Tucked between the roses was a small note with his signature scribbled across it.

“Get ready, babe. Your wings arrive in 10 minutes.”

You didn’t have time to question it before, true to his word, Keigo himself swooped down from the sky, landing on your balcony with a dazzling grin.

“Morning, beautiful!” he greeted, stretching his arms out as if waiting for you to run into them. “Ready for the best Valentine’s Day of your life?”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Keigo, it’s barely 9 AM. How did you even—?”

He held up a finger. “Ah-ah, no questions! Just trust me.”

With a dramatic bow, he extended a hand toward you. “Your ride awaits, my love.”

You sighed, shaking your head, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips as you took his hand. “This better not get too crazy.”

Keigo laughed. “No promises, babe.

And with that, he wrapped his arms securely around you and took off, the wind rushing past as he carried you into the sky.

_________________________________

Keigo’s idea of a Valentine’s Day date was anything but ordinary.

He took you to a private rooftop garden—one you were pretty sure he technically wasn’t supposed to have access to, but when had that ever stopped him? The space was beautifully set up, a cozy little table adorned with your favorite breakfast pastries, fresh fruit, and, of course, more flowers.

“Keigo…” you breathed, taking in the scene.

He beamed, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Pretty sweet, huh? Thought we’d start the day off right—with the best view in town.”

He wasn’t wrong. The city stretched out beneath you, bathed in the golden hues of the morning sun. It was peaceful up here, away from the noise and chaos below.

As you both settled in, Keigo wasted no time in teasing you. “Sooo, on a scale of one to ‘I’m totally in love with you,’ how much do you adore me right now?”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest made it impossible to deny how much effort he’d put into this. “You’re insufferable.”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “That’s not a no.”

You took a bite of your pastry, pretending to ignore him. “Mmm, this is good.”

Keigo pouted. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll take that as an ‘I’m swooning but too proud to admit it.’”

You snorted, and he laughed, reaching across the table to brush his fingers against yours. His playful energy softened for a moment, his golden eyes warm as they met yours.

“Seriously, though,” he murmured, “I know I joke a lot, but I really do mean it when I say you’re the best thing in my life, Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Keigo might’ve been all about grand gestures, but moments like this? The quiet sincerity in his voice, the way his fingers lingered against yours—those were the things that truly made your heart soar.

_________________________________

The day had been a whirlwind—after breakfast, Keigo had taken you on a literal sky tour, swooping through the clouds, pointing out places below with a childlike excitement that was contagious. He’d surprised you with little gifts throughout the day, each one something personal and thoughtful.

Now, as the sun began to set, the two of you sat on a high-rise rooftop, watching the city lights flicker to life.

Keigo exhaled, stretching his arms behind his head. “Man, today was perfect.

You laughed. “I think you just like showing off your flight skills.”

He smirked. “Guilty. But mostly, I just like making you smile.”

You turned to him, your heart full. “You do that every day, Keigo.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

Your breath hitched.

“Relax, it’s not that kind of ring,” he teased, flipping the box open to reveal a delicate golden band—a simple, beautiful design, engraved with tiny feathers along the inside.

He took your hand, slipping it onto your finger. “Just a little something to remind you that no matter where I am—whether I’m on duty, flying across the country, or caught up in hero work—you’re always with me.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes stinging with emotion. “Keigo…”

He tilted his head. “Too much?”

You shook your head, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Keigo chuckled, wrapping his wings around you, cocooning you in warmth. “That’s my line, babe.” WHOAAWHOHOAAAA

As the city buzzed beneath you, as the stars blinked awake in the sky, you realized something—this wasn’t just another extravagant display of affection.

This was Keigo, in all his chaotic, loving, fiercely devoted glory.

And you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Enji Todoroki

Enji wasn’t the kind of man who put much thought into holidays.

Or at least, he never used to.

Valentine’s Day had always seemed like an unnecessary, over-commercialized event—something flashy and superficial. But then you came into his life, and suddenly, things he never cared about before started to matter.

Which was why, despite his usual reluctance toward romantic gestures, he found himself standing in the middle of a flower shop, staring at a display of roses with an intensity that made the store clerk nervous.

“Do you… need help, sir?” the clerk asked hesitantly.

Enji exhaled through his nose. “What do people usually buy for… these occasions?”

The poor clerk stammered out a few suggestions, but Enji barely listened, his mind already preoccupied with something else. He wanted to get this right. He wanted to try.

By the time he left the shop, he had a bouquet in one hand and a small, neatly wrapped box in the other. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

And for you, he was willing to learn.

_________________________________

When you arrived home thoat evening, you were surprised to find Enji already there, standing in the kitchen with an almost uncertain expression.

“You’re early,” you noted, setting your bag down.

He cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “I took the evening off.”

Your eyebrows raised. Endeavor? Taking a break on purpose? That was rare. But before you could comment, he stepped forward, handing you the bouquet without a word.

You blinked, looking between him and the flowers. “Are these… for me?”

He gave a small nod, his gaze flickering away as if embarrassed. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I figured…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair before exhaling. “I wanted to do something for you.”

Your heart softened at the effort.

You took the flowers carefully, brushing your fingers over the petals. “They’re beautiful, Enji. Thank you.”

There was a noticeable tension in his shoulders, like he wasn’t sure how you’d react. But at your gentle smile, he relaxed—just a little.

“There’s more,” he muttered, stepping aside to reveal a carefully set dining table. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was clear that he had gone out of his way to prepare a meal.

Your chest tightened with warmth. “You cooked?”

He grunted, crossing his arms. “I tried.”

It was such an Enji way to approach things—no grand declarations, no overly sentimental words. A quiet effort. A steady, unwavering presence.

And that meant more to you than any extravagant gesture ever could.

_________________________________

After dinner, the two of you found yourselves sitting together in the dim glow of the fireplace.

It was rare for Enji to have a moment like this—where he wasn’t burdened by work or his own self-imposed expectations. But tonight, he let himself relax, leaning back against the couch as you curled up beside him.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder.

His arm tightened around you slightly. “I wanted to.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows across the room.

After a moment, Enji reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box he had bought earlier. Without a word, he handed it to you

Curious, you opened it, revealing a delicate pendant in the shape of a flame—elegant yet understated, just like him.

Your breath hitched. “Enji…”

He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability of the moment. “It reminded me of you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, fingers tightening around the chain. “It’s perfect.”

For a man who often struggled to express himself, this was his way of saying everything he couldn’t put into words.

You turned to him, reaching up to gently cup his face. “Thank you. For this. For tonight.”

His eyes softened, and for once, he didn’t look away. “You deserve it.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw before settling back into his embrace.

Enji Todoroki wasn’t a man of grand speeches or poetic words.

But his love was a slow-burning fire—steady, unwavering, and fiercely protective.

And as you sat there, wrapped in his warmth, you knew one thing for certain.

This was enough.

Because Enji didn’t need to say “I love you” for you to know that he did.

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto had never celebrated Valentine’s Day before.

Growing up, it was just another day—no warm memories, no traditions, no excitement. But now, with you, things were different. He wanted to make this day special for you, even if he wasn’t sure how.

Which was why, two weeks before Valentine’s, he found himself sitting in the dorm common room, quietly taking notes as his friends debated the best ways to celebrate.

“Chocolate is a must,” Kaminari declared. “Girls love chocolate!”

“Not just chocolate, though,” Kirishima chimed in. “It’s gotta be thoughtful. Something that means something to her.”

Shoto frowned slightly, tapping his pen against the notebook in front of him. He had already planned to get you chocolates, but clearly, that wasn’t enough.

“What are you writing?” Midoriya asked, peeking over his shoulder.

Shoto casually closed the notebook. “Nothing.”

Midoriya gave him a knowing smile but didn’t push.

By the time February 14th arrived, Shoto had everything planned. He wasn’t sure if it was perfect, but it was the best way he knew how to show you how much you meant to him.

_________________________________

The morning of Valentine’s Day, you woke up to find a neatly wrapped package waiting for you outside your door.

Curious, you picked it up, carefully unwrapping it to find a beautiful scarf inside—soft, thick, and woven with shades of deep red and icy blue. A small note was tucked inside.

“It reminded me of us. Meet me at the front gates at 5 PM. –Shoto”

Your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness. It wasn’t just a random gift; it was something personal, something that reflected the two of you.

When the time came, you made your way to the front of UA, where Shoto was already waiting, his breath visible in the crisp winter air

“You’re wearing it,” he noted, his voice quiet but pleased.

“Of course,” you said, adjusting the scarf around your neck. “It’s perfect.”

His lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. “I’m glad.”

Without another word, he took your hand, leading you down a quiet path toward a secluded park. Snow had begun to fall gently around you, dusting the ground in a thin, glistening layer.

“I wanted to take you somewhere peaceful,” he admitted. “Just the two of us.”

You squeezed his hand, touched by his consideration. “This is perfect, Shoto.”

For a while, the two of you simply walked, the silence between you warm and comfortable. Every now and then, he’d glance at you, as if making sure you were enjoying yourself.

Eventually, he stopped near a small clearing, pulling out a thermos from his coat pocket.

“I made hot chocolate,” he said, a little hesitant. “I wasn’t sure if it would taste right, but… I wanted to try.”

Your heart melted at the sight of him—so earnest, so genuinely trying to make this day special for you.

Taking the cup from his hands, you took a sip and smiled. “It’s perfect, just like everything else today.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his heterochromatic eyes reflecting the snowfall around you.

“I never really understood what Valentine’s Day was supposed to be about,” he admitted. “But now… I think I do.”

You tilted your head. “And what do you think it’s about?”

His fingers tightened around yours, his gaze steady.

“Being with the person who makes everything feel warmer,” he said simply.

Your breath caught.

And then, before you could say anything else, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

_________________________________

After your walk, Shoto took you back to his dorm room, where he had one last surprise waiting.

On his desk sat a small wooden box, carved with delicate patterns along the edges. He picked it up, holding it out to you.

“I made this,” he said, a little shyly. “I’m still learning, so it’s not perfect, but…”

You opened the box, your eyes widening at what was inside.

It was a collection of small, folded notes—each one carefully written, each one meant just for you.

You picked up the first one, unfolding it to read.

“I admire you more than I know how to say.”

Swallowing thickly, you reached for another.

“I want to be someone who makes you as happy as you make me.”

Your hands trembled as you looked back up at him. “Shoto, this is…”

He shifted, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. “I’m not good at saying how I feel sometimes,” he admitted. “But I wanted you to know. So… whenever you need to hear it, you can read one of these.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the quiet but powerful way he showed his love.

Setting the box down carefully, you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He stiffened slightly at first, then melted into your embrace, his arms coming around you, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“You don’t need to say anything,” you murmured against his chest. “I already know.”

He sighed softly, resting his chin on top of your head.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Your heart clenched, and you pulled back just enough to look at him.

“I love you too, Shoto.”

His lips twitched, and then, for the first time that night, a full, genuine smile broke across his face.

And as the snow continued to fall outside, as his warmth surrounded you, you knew that this—this—was what love truly felt like.

Tenya Iida

Valentine’s Day was not a day Tenya Iida took lightly.

If he was going to celebrate love, he was going to do it right.

Which was why, the night before, he had mapped out everything. The perfect date, the best restaurant, even the precise timing of each event. His notebook was filled with color-coded plans and contingency strategies—because if there was one thing Iida disliked, it was unforeseen obstacles.

So when February 14th arrived, he was ready.

Or at least, he thought he was.

Because the moment he saw you walking toward him, dressed beautifully with a bright smile just for him, every ounce of structure in his brain short-circuited.

“Tenya?” you tilted your head, amused at his frozen stance.

He quickly snapped out of it, adjusting his glasses. “A-Ah! Yes! You look absolutely stunning! I—I mean, I knew you always looked lovely, but today you look particularly—uh—let us begin our scheduled itinerary!”

You giggled, slipping your arm through his. “Lead the way, Mr. Class President.”

And just like that, his carefully crafted plan began.

_________________________________

The first stop on his itinerary was a highly-rated restaurant, one he had called weeks in advance to secure the best table.

Except when you arrived, a flustered hostess greeted you with an apologetic bow.

“We’re so sorry, but there was a mix-up in the reservations, and we’re currently at full capacity.”

Tenya stiffened. “Impossible! I confirmed my reservation three times!”

“I—I know, sir! But unfortunately, the system—”

Before she could finish, you placed a hand on Tenya’s arm, soothing him instantly. “It’s okay, we can go somewhere else,” you reassured him.

Tenya inhaled sharply, composing himself before turning to you. “I refuse to let this minor inconvenience ruin our evening. Allow me to activate Plan B!”

You bit back a smile. “Plan B?”

“Yes! I anticipated the possibility of restaurant complications and have prepared an alternate location!” He straightened proudly, adjusting his tie. “Come, my love, we shall proceed to the next venue!”

Your heart melted a little at the title—he rarely called you that out loud.

Plan B turned out to be a charming little café with a rooftop garden. Though it wasn’t his original plan, the cozy atmosphere and twinkling fairy lights made it feel even more special.

As you sat across from him, sipping your drinks, he exhaled in relief. “I apologize for the mishap earlier. I wanted today to be flawless.”

You reached over, taking his hand. “It already is, Tenya. Because it’s with you.”

The redness that spread across his face was immediate.

_________________________________

After dinner, Tenya’s itinerary included a peaceful evening walk, but the universe seemed determined to test him once more.

It started raining.

Not just a light drizzle—a downpour.

Tenya groaned, gripping his umbrella tightly. “This was not in the forecast!”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, absolutely delighted by the turn of events. “Maybe we should just go with the flow, Tenya.”

“But—but our plans—”

You reached up, cupping his face gently. “We don’t need plans. As long as we’re together, that’s enough.”

His blue eyes searched yours, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting. “You’re right,” he murmured, covering your hands with his own.

Then, in a rare moment of spontaneity, he tugged you close and pressed a firm, passionate kiss to your lips.

The rain poured around you, but neither of you cared.

Because in that moment, the only thing that mattered was each other.