The wedding dress felt heavier in your hands than it had five years ago. Maybe it was the weight of time, or maybe it was the memories stitched into the fabric—the way Izuku had looked at you that day, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

You met Izuku Midoriya when you were teenagers. He had been awkward but his determination burned brighter than anything you had ever seen. He had a way of making you believe in him, in his dream, in the sheer force of his will.

It wasn’t an instant love story—Izuku had been too focused on saving the world to notice the way you looked at him. And you? You weren’t sure if you were even meant to fit into the life of a boy who was chasing after the impossible. Somewhere between the late-night training sessions and the quiet moments where he let himself rest beside you, it happened.

You fell. And when he finally caught up to his own feelings, he fell even harder.

The years had been kind to you both, but they had also been exhausting. Izuku, now one of Japan’s top pro heroes, worked tirelessly. Sometimes, you wondered if he still saw himself as the quirkless boy who had to prove his worth to the world. No matter how many times you told him he had done enough, he never slowed down.

Maybe that’s why you reached for the dress today. A reminder of the moment when nothing else had mattered except the two of you.

You slipped it on, it was a little tighter than before, Izuku always joked that marriage had made you both lazy when it came to training, but it still fit.

“Honey?” His voice echoed from downstairs, pulling you from your thoughts. As you descended the stairs, Izuku turned, eyes widening. His lips parted, a shaky breath leaving him as he took you in.

“{{user}}” he whispered.

Suddenly, he was 22 again, standing at the altar, heart in his throat as he watched you walk toward him in this very dress. His hands trembled and when his lips wobbled, you reached out before the tears could spill.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. Izuku’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you against him