Flower Boy | I. Midoriya x reader

Chapter 1 : Pink

Izuku Midoriya was a quiet boy in middle school. He always had been.

He'd tend to write away in his journal about people he'd admired, sat at the back of the classroom as to not attract attention.

He wasn't exactly a loner, per say, he was just a people watcher.

In fact, he drew in a lot of people. There were plenty of kids his age willing to be his friend, but he just rather keep his words and listen.

Perhaps, it was because of the teasing from those 'popular kids' that made him hold his silence... but that didn't really matter. He enjoyed his life how it was.

Izuku Midoriya was quiet, yes, but his heart sure wasn't when you were around.

You were probably the one person who kept his interest peaked. Always chatting, laughing, and that smile on your face that made his eyes fill with stars.

With your many fascinating interests and silly little quirks, he could not stop his sight lingering upon you.

You just had so much energy - the good kind - and he could only dream to be a part of your creative world, a universe always seen through rose-coloured spectacles with rims of gold... but not in the way that you were ignorant or naïve, you just saw the best in everything.

He found that admirable.

He hung on your every word like poetry being read for the very last time... as if he could miss the words if he took even a moment to glance away.

You'd built constellations in those seas of emerald, a soft sprinkle of rose on his nose and cheeks.

It only worsened when you'd sometimes (rarely) come over to his desk and speak to him.

Him. You spoke to him. Out of everyone.

The class liked Midoriya, but they loved you. And, while he may have not been a loser, he felt way out of your league. So, when you spoke to him, it was a moment to remember, to scribble down in messy handwriting on that godforsaken mess of a journal.

A flower of alluring innocence, blooming with every breath.

*****

"Shit-," You hissed, slamming your apartment door shut and sprinting down the stairs.

You should've really kept an eye on the time, dammit! You'd really tried to stay on track this morning and, still, you managed to run behind schedule.

How? Absolutely no clue.

Glancing down at your watch, your eyes widened as another "Shit." slipped out of your mouth. The bus was going to leave in 7 minutes... the bus stop 10 minutes away.

"Goddamit." You whined under your breath, yanking the bicycle free after hearing the click of the bike lock.

Various calculations sprung to mind: Which route was the fastest? And at what speed would you have to travel? And how would you time your journey to avoid stopping at stop lights?

You groaned.

You'd just cycle as fast as possible and hope to the universe that it'd take mercy upon you... again... for the third time this week... it was Wednesday.

Off you went, peddling at a chaotically fast pace as your speed built.

Eventually, you arrived at the bus stop with no bus to be seen.

You checked the time again... it had been 8 minutes.

Great.

You were about to collapse on the floor and cry about how bad your life was until your bus reared it's head around the corner.