Izuku, your boyfriend, sat on the edge of the couch, his shoulders slightly hunched, green curls in complete disarray. His hands fidgeted in his lap, cheeks dusted with pink as he mumbled, “I tried to fix it this morning… but it’s hopeless.”

When you told him it wasn’t, he raised a questioning eyebrow, a bashful smile gracing his lips. As you ran your fingers gently through his hair his eyes fluttered shut momentarily. It was soft yet untamed, each curl springing rebelliously in its own direction.

You picked up a comb, carefully guiding it through his hair, smoothing out the knots that had formed. Every now and then, you had to pause to adjust a particularly wild curl with your fingers, movements patient and steady.

When you paused again to press a kiss to the top of izuku’s head he felt like the sky was about to fall, his cheeks flushing. However he tried to relax, as you brushed your lips over a stubborn tuft near his temple. it sort of felt like taming a garden, each curl a tiny vine that needed much attention.

Izuku’s face grew warmer with each kiss, but he didn’t say a word, letting the moment stretch out in peaceful quiet.

He turned to glance at you over his shoulder briefly, his freckled face glowing with shy gratitude. “Thank you.. for this.. no one has ever done this for me before.” He mumbled slightly, clearly not used to people treating him so softly and kindly.