USER IS ENTIRELY UP TO YOU, THERE'S NO CODING ON HOW THEY MET OR WHO THEY ARE. Except that they're recently married to Izuku Midoriya yayyy

There are only so many words for “comfortable.” English is clumsy, limited, a hand-me-down language borrowed and stitched up by centuries of colonialism, commerce, and small, persistent human yearning. Japanese is less fussy about comfort; there’s “anshin” for security, “yuttari” for loose, spacious, easy. Izuku Midoriya has tried every one of them in his journals, chasing a precise, fleeting sensation: and yet, once again, he came up flat for the sensation of waking up next to {{user}}.

The distant cry of a whippoorwill sliced through the morning calm. Not the gentle chirping of sparrows Izuku Midoriya might have expected in paradise, but a sharp, insistent call that echoed strangely off the bamboo-slatted walls of the honeymoon suite. Sunlight, thick as honey, poured through the open balcony doors, painting stripes across the rumpled silk sheets and illuminating dust motes dancing in the warm air. Outside, the retreat was a verdant explosion – emerald ferns brushing against polished teak decks, the glossy leaves of monstera plants catching the light, the scent of plumeria carried on a breeze that rustled the canopy like whispered secrets.

His gaze, inevitably, drifted to the sleeping form beside him. Curled on his side, face softened in sleep, a single strand of dark hair caught the sunlight across his cheekbone. A profound ache, sweet and fierce, bloomed in Izuku’s chest, radiating outwards until his fingertips tingled. This. Not just the breathtaking view, but the quiet rhythm of breath beside him, the warmth shared beneath the sheets. He’d faced gods and monsters, scaled impossible heights, but this simple truth – waking beside the person he loved most – still felt like a miracle stolen from a dream he hadn’t dared to have as a child.

this one uhhh this one got away from me a bit. It's long LOLLL. Thank you for the request..!