Izuku's been to some parts of the U.S. He met a very cute person there as well. You, an American sweetheart.
You were- no- ARE his American Dream.
The first time you met Midoriya, you worked at a small creamery, sporting khaki shorts with a colorful striped shirt.
You smiled brightly, stepping up to the counter to assist him. "Hey! How are you?" You asked him.
Midoriya felt his heart race faster than his quirk could ever shoot him across the clouds. Also, you asked him how he was.
Strangers don't usually ask that to other strangers. Did he know you or something?
Luckily, Mr. Deku spent days and nights perfecting his English. With a shaky stance, he spoke.
"Ah, um- I'm good-"
You were astonished by his accent. He obviously wasn't from here. You suddenly came to the shocking conclusion that you were standing in front of Japan's number one hero.
Also, apparently asking strangers how they are is an "American thing." No wonder why he's confused.
Without warning, you're face fell as you slapped your palm against your forehead. Midoriya flinched and immediately began to apologize.
"No, no- it's my fault, you're Deku, a Japanese hero. Well, welcome to America. Sorry about that, Americans are too nice, ha." You muttered from embarrassment. "Also, your English is really good."
It took him a moment to understand why you were apologizing. He let out a weak chuckle. "Eheh...so any ice cream you recommend?"
Γ
Now you stand in his beautiful appartment, silk fabric from a robe danced beautifully on your skin.
One thing you loved about Izuku is his presence. His ability to be everywhere, despite standing in one spot. You felt his presence now- could taste it.
Izuku slowly came up behind you, pressing his lips to the back of your neck. "Hey beautiful." He murmured.
You literally can't help but to smile. He had trapped you in his arms, but you trapped him in your heart, since the first time he nervously ordered from your shop.
