Work Text:
To: Izu ♡
ik ur already asleep but i can’t sleep and i miss u :(
You sigh and set your phone down on the pillow beside you before rolling over and tugging your comforter higher up on your shoulder. You think of broader shoulders, a smattering of freckles, a flash of white teeth, and groan, pulling your blanket up so it’s covering your face too.
Izuku had returned from a two-week-long trip earlier today and, in typical fashion, was outside of your apartment door the minute paperwork was done. You insisted that he go get sleep, real rest, in his own apartment for the night, without you clinging to him all night. He wasn’t too hurt but you were sure that his shoulder needed rest from being dislocated and you were known to cuddle up to him in your sleep.
He pouted at the idea but agreed and left a few hours ago and you haven’t heard from him since other than a message letting you know he was home and was going to bed. Which was a good thing, you reminded yourself. He needed rest and was listening to what you told him to. But, fuck, you missed him while he was gone. While his missions weren’t rare – nobody could stop him from doing everything to climb the hero ratings (and you would never dream of even thinking about any other life for him) – not sharing a bed with him while he was home was rare. You were better at it when he was gone. You could tell yourself to get over it, he was away being a hero and you were more than busy enough here, putting your healing quirk to work.
But here? Alone in bed with him two blocks away? Thinking of how he could be holding you to his chest right now, playing with your hair and soothing you to sleep? This is much harder.
Groaning, you toss your blanket away and give in to the urge to check your phone again. No new notifications, as to be expected at 2am, but plenty of other distractions were right at your fingertips to keep you awake for much longer than you should be. You push away the temptation and toss the phone down to the foot of your bed, sitting up and stretching your arms high above your head. You’re sure there’s some melatonin in the cabinet in your bathroom and that’s your new goal.
It doesn’t take long to find it and fill a glass with water to take the small pill. You typically don’t take anything to sleep, preferring to fall asleep naturally if possible, but a small part of your brain urges you that the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you can get up and head over to Izuku’s, like the desperate girlfriend that you are.
You’re walking back to your room, praying the medicine works tonight, when you hear something in your room. You freeze, blood running cold.
Your quirk works to heal yourself as well as others, so you really have little to loose by at least running in there to make a mad dash for your phone. You brace yourself with the thought as you grab the closest thing – a fake potted succulent – and push the door open with your toe, muscles tight and practically vibrating with adrenaline. When it’s obvious nothing is blocking your path, you launch yourself onto your bed and scramble to find your phone in the sheets where you tossed it, head turning around wildly to find the source of the noise.
You find an empty room.
You can hear your blood rushing in your ears as your fingers finally brush against your phone and you lower the plastic pot to rest beside you. You hadn’t imagined the noise, there was a loud thump followed by quick tapping noises, repeated enough that you’re sure you heard correctly.
You hover there, sort of crouched on your bed, armed with the smallest plastic pot in existence and your phone, and consider briefly if there’s an invisible person in your room with you.
You aren’t quite sure how to proceed, eyes darting around the room. You’ve just come up with the idea to throw your covers into the center of the room to see if it catches on any invisible creep so you can pummel them into the group when the noise happens again.
Tap tap tap tap tap
You scream, jumping up and throwing the fake succulent on reflex. It sails through the air and lands with a quiet thump on the rug. Swallowing thickly, you force air into your lungs to just think for a minute. It takes you a second to realize that the tapping had come from outside of your window and you slowly crawl off of your bed, phone clutched in your hand.
Your curtains are pulled shut to combat the bright sun in the mornings so you face them for a few seconds, breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth.
‘Please don’t be a person trying to break in please don’t be a person trying to break in please don’t be a person trying to break in’ you plead in your head, crouching down to scoop up your plastic weapon. You could turn back and grab the pepper spray attached to your keyring but you feel like it would be wrong to not let the little succulent see this adventure the entire way through.
You decide to rip off the bandaid, yank the curtains open, and prepare yourself to scream. You grab at the edge of the curtain before you hear a sigh.
You feel the blood in your body drop to your feet for a moment before you hear, “C’mon, Y/N?” through the thin glass of your shitty apartment window and you recognize the voice. Your blood feels like it finally starts moving after having been stopped and you feel your face flush as you pull the curtains back.
As you expected, your boyfriend is perching on the rickety fire escape, fist raised to tap on the glass again.
He breaks out into a wide smile at you standing there, pajama-clad with messy hair, before it turns confused and he raises an eyebrow toward your still-raised cactus weapon.
You lower your arm sheepishly, heart skipping at his blinding smile, and hurry to unlock the window. He pushes it open for you when you have it unlocked.
He braces his hands on the top of the window frame, leans forward, and into your room, biceps flexing and entering your space.
“Hello,” he whispers, smiling down at you.
It’s hard to not be flustered. He’s no longer the small Izuku Midoriya you met while training with Recovery Girl at UA – no, this is Pro Hero Deku, still sweet and bubbly, sure, but confident and fully aware of how he has you wrapped around his finger.
“Hi,” you return, letting him lean close and returning his smile.
“Quite the arsenal you have around here,” he comments, nodding toward your hand still clutching the plastic pot.
“I thought you were someone trying to break in!” You justify, holding the plant up, “It’s not my fault that you forget I have a front door.”
His smile widens as he leaps into your room easily, maneuvering from his awkward crouch to standing in front of you gracefully. “It’s faster to just use Blackwhip and come through his way, the elevator’s too slow.” He gently pries the small pot from your fingers and sets it on your desk, using his hold on your hand to bring your wrist up to his mouth and place a gentle kiss above your racing pulse. “Sorry for scaring you.”
“It’s okay, care to share why you’ve felt the need to visit my window at 2:30 like you’re some sort of Spiderman?” You ask, trying your hardest to not flush at the feeling of his lips sweeping over your wrist.
He shrugs, lifting his phone and waving it, “You said you missed me.”
You gape at that, laughing in disbelief. “So you woke up, left bed, and raced here instead of calling me or texting me back?”
“I knew if I did you would convince me not to come. Guess I missed you too.” He tugs your closer, moving his hand from your wrist to your hip and holding you there firmly, leaning down to brush his nose against yours.
“But your shoulder,” you whisper, even as you stretch up on your toes to return the gesture.
“It’s fine,” he promises, slowly smiling again and you can feel the shift from how close you are to him, “Plus, my girlfriend is super cool and can help me out in the morning if it’s sore.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes for show, “Is that all I am to you? After all this time?” You tease.
“Nope,” he hums, pulling back slightly and eyes flickering to your lips. “Never just that.”
Your heart skips a beat, squeezes, and then races. It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, how many different ways he shows you, or even the years you’ve been by his side – he still manages to make you feel giddy in every way possible.
“Oh, really?” You ask, breathless and unable to really think straight with how he’s raking his eyes over your face, drinking you in and not hiding it in the slightest.
He doesn’t answer, opting to lean in and brush his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. He pulls back for a breath before leaning in and kissing you properly, pressing his lips against yours, firm and insistent. It doesn’t take long for him to deepen it, licking at your bottom lip and smiling when you respond eagerly. His arm slips from your waist around the small of your back, tugging you close and holding you there. His other hand holds your cheek gently. Your arms are around his neck, fingers brushing past his undercut to find the thick curls above. He groans when you tug, lifting you up and pulling away to press small, quick kisses across both of your cheeks.
The adrenaline from before has made your small dose of melatonin kick in much faster than usual and you feel your eyes growing heavy even as you giggle and squirm in his arms.
“You ready for bed, baby?” Izuku asks, placing you down gently and pushing your hair out of your face.
You nod against his hand, holding it to your cheek so you can turn to press a kiss to the scar stretching across his palm.
He ushers you to your bed with a hand pressed against the small of your back, pulling his hoodie off while you settle on the far side of your bed next to the wall, watching him move in the moonlight of your room.
You admire the way the chords of his muscles bunch up at the movement, eyes tracing the freckles that continue down his shoulders to his strong chest and flat stomach. He is a beacon of power, strong and unbreakable, privy to countless strategies to have anyone anywhere fall to their knees, and he’s standing in your bedroom in soft pajama pants with little gauntlets on them (Bakugou’s merch, you note fondly) and bare feet.
He doesn’t comment on your staring as he crawls into bed, though he’s no doubt noticed, little gets past his attention. He stretches out on his back, adjusting his pillow and opening his arms wide for you.
“Are you sure?” You question, sitting cross-legged and searching his eyes for any sort of tenseness, “Your shoulder…” You draw off as he scoffs and props himself up on an elbow. He reaches forward and maneuvers you next to him easily, manhandling you in a way that makes you blush.
“My shoulder’s fine,” he mumbles, prodding you to lay down and shoving his nose into your hair when you do, sighing contently.
You sink into him, relishing in the warmth and comfort he brings. Gently, you trace the scars and freckles on his chest with a finger. You don’t comment on how he flushes across his chest at your attention. No doubt his face is red, too.
A secret, small part of you relishes in your ability to have him just as affected by you as you are by him. The number three hero is in your bed, holding you tightly in his strong arms, blushing because you are trailing your finger across the rough edge of a scar from a fight you’ve heard the story of a million times.
“You never finished telling me about the lady at the convenience store,” you remind him, poking his side gently. You know he relaxes more when he talks, you have fallen asleep countless times to the gentle sound of his voice, deep and slow as he gets more and more tired as well.
“You sure? It’s late, I can tell you tomorrow,” he hesitates, fingers tracing nonsensical patterns across the side of your neck.
“Mhm,” you nod, craning your neck to smile up at him, “you know I fall asleep faster when I have you to listen to.” Never mind that you’re sure that you’re exhausted enough to blink and fall asleep right then. “I want to hear about everything from when you were away, too.”
That’s all it takes to have him launching into the story, the hand that’s not attached to the arm holding you firmly to his side gesturing in the air.
You rest your cheek against his chest, listening for the gentle thrum of his heartbeat and feeling the gentle vibrations of his voice as he talks. You fall asleep easily and deeply, warm and content beyond explanation.