warnings: pure fluff, reader regrets their gift choice for a bit
It wasn’t hard for Matt to tell that you were hiding something, the violent pounding of your heart every time the topic of dates and valentines day had come up was consistent for almost 3 weeks.
He found it endearing how hard you were trying to keep your secret. But unfortunately for you, he had a bit of an unfair advantage in this area, it was like putting a pro football player against, well, you.
It wasn’t like he was trying to catch you out…it was just a little hard not to.
Which is why, when he came home from a day at the office with Foggy, he did his best to act surprised at your gesture. To act like he couldn’t hear your bustling around his apartment from down the street, anxiously busying yourself. To act like he couldn’t smell the residual fabric on your hands from your ‘secret project’ over the past few weeks.
When he stepped through the front door he feigned shock hearing you in his living room. as you ran to him, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders and wishing him a happy valentines day.
Immediately you knew something was up.
Of course he knew.
At least you still had one up on him, he didn’t know what your gift was…right?
You’d noted his hatred for certain fabrics and his comparison to sandpaper early on in your relationship, so, being a creative person, you decided to show how much his comfort mattered to you with a gesture.
After locating the softest possible fabric from his list of safe materials, you got to work, you crafted a large blanket for him, large enough for the both of you to sit comfortably under it. In an effort to make it interesting for him through touch, you created patterns and shapes on the top side of the blanket, hiding your stitches to reduce contact.
Despite how much you’d loved the idea, waiting for him to come home had allowed time for uncertainty to fester in your gut, what if he thought it was stupid? After all the work you’d put in, you’d probably cry. The idea of him hating it and pretending to like it made you feel even worse.
But, when you gave it to him, allowing him to feel your handiwork atop the project, the bright smile that lit up his face told you all you needed to know.
Warnings: self depricating thoughts, pining, reader being excluded/ avoided, general fluff, reader is gender neutral
Summary: You've had a crush on your feathered schoolmate for over 2 years, what happens when you run into each other at a concert. Inspired by @faulty-writes Tokoyami x Goth Reader headcannon.
Many people overlooked the feathered hero in training, setting their sights on the flashier students such as Bakugo and Midoriya. But you had your sights set on the quiet, dark boy. His fascinating quirk, his laid back attitude.
As a member of general studies, there weren’t many chances for you to talk to him. Not that you would be able to anyway, having been a stuttering mess the first and last you’d tried to talk to him in the hallways, asking him to move so you could get past. Even if you could talk to him, why would a future pro hero want someone like you, not even nobel enough to try out for the hero course.
He was so amazingly unique and interesting and you were just you, who gets shunned by your classmates for the way you dress, accessorise your uniform and even the music you listen to. You had to buy heavy duty headphones to listen to your music in the dorms without getting dirty looks and angry visits from your classmates telling you to ‘turn that shit off’ no matter how quiet it was playing. You know for a fact that you watch the same show as a few of them, having overheard them talking about it but been too anxious to interrupt, afraid of being judged. They weren’t mean per say, but they were always a little standoffish with you, like they expected you to pounce on them at any moment. You were able to work civilly on group projects, but they never tried to connect with you like they did with each other, and you were too nervous to start the conversations on your own.
The first time you saw Tokoyami was in the sports festival in your first year, watching with awe as he kept his team in the running during the cavalry battle and how well he had fared in the one on one battles. His quirk fascinated you, the gorgeous abyssal creature that resided within him, dark shadow, was so complex in nature. All you wanted was to sit and listen to Tokoyami tell you all the details of his companion and how his quirk worked.
But alas, you could never work up the courage to talk to him, and there's no way he would have noticed you during the sports festival, your healing quirk being useless against the robotic enemies and placing you as one of the last to finish and immediately eliminated.
The last thing you expected was to run into him at a concert, dressed for the occasion in a singlet with frayed sleeves, patch pants and a spiked choker with matching wrist cuffs to complete the look. You had waited out front of the venue for hours to get a close spot on the floor, one of your top ten bands finally visiting your state, the lead up to the concert was agonising, time passing as slower than ever. You had your outfit mapped out the second you had bought the tickets, anxiously awaiting your chance to see them play live at last. Your eyeliner had taken you over an hour, your trembling hands having made getting a smooth shape nearly impossible.
It took you a moment to get your jaw off the floor, realising that he probably wouldn’t remember you from your one interaction and would think you were just some creepy loner who only came to gawk at all the attractive concert attendees. All the blood drained from your face when he made eye contact with you, immediately rushing straight back to your cheeks, you silently prayed that your makeup would hide your blush, but the slight twitch at the edges of his beak tells you otherwise. You quickly avert your eyes to the ground, avoiding that piercing stare and instead becoming suddenly very interested in the tips of your shoes. Your soul leaves your body when you feel a hand rest on your shoulder, whipping your head up to see Tokoyami. Just centimetres away from you. Touching you.
You could faint.
His hand slides off your shoulder, having successfully gained your attention.
‘Hello’
‘...Hi’
You shakily respond.
Before either of you can say anything else, the lights dimmed, indicating the opener was beginning their set. You both eagerly turn, you forgetting any self-consciousness at the exciting prospect of hearing music you love around people that also love it. The movement of the crowd shoves you into his side, and him into yours. Both choosing to just accept the circumstance, as it is part of concert culture, and continue screaming your throats raw.
By the end of the opener you were loosened up and excitedly babbling at him about how amazing they were and how exciting it all was while he just smiled and the great contrast from the half an hour ago. His staring brought you back to earth, stammering out the end of your sentence about how cool the band outfits were, conscious of the fact that you were talking to the guy you have had a raging crush on for the past two years and never spoken to.
‘[Reader]? Right?’
‘Uhh yeah.. Yeah! That's me!’
You tried, and failed, to respond normally. How did he know your name? Why does he know it? Did he hear the rumours about you? Does he already have a tainted view of you? Was any chance you may have had with him already gone? What if he told everyone at school that you were some weirdo that stared at him and couldn't talk to him norma-
‘I’m Tokoyami Fumikage.’
‘I know…I mean, like I remember you from the sports festivals…and..all that.’
Shit. You were blowing this majorly. He was so cool and you were acting so lame. A ridiculous stuttering mess.
‘I see, that’s good then.’
‘Um, yeah…how are you liking-’
Your attempt at communicating was interrupted by the main band finally beginning to play. Your attention instantly shifts away from Tokoyami and onto the large elevated stage, missing the way his eyes linger on you, soft smile on his beak. You push onto your tiptoes to peer around the mass of heads and phones obscuring your view.
After the lengthy experience of leaving the venue, you and Tokoyami file in with the crowds to the train station, ambling along and engaging in quiet and short, but sweet and reminiscent conversation that you know you’ll wish you savoured more after the night ends.
As you try not to fall asleep in your seat, your head lulls from side to side with the sway of the train. It was a miracle you had snagged a seat at all and you didn’t want to risk missing your stop. In your delirious sleepy state you barely register the large hand that guides your head to the side, urging it to rest on his shoulder.
‘I’ll wake you at your stop’
That's all it takes for you to turn your body towards him and push your forehead into the crook of his neck.
As promised, he shakes you awake as the train pulls away from the stop before yours, allowing you the chance to wake up enough to walk without stumbling.
As the doors open, you reluctantly stand from your cosy spot. Making a split second decision, you bend over and place a chaste kiss against the side of his beak, spinning on your heels and speeding out of the train just in time before the doors shut. You were definitely never forgetting tonight.
And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn’t been so nervous around him at school, you would have seen the way he looked at you.
Warnings: language, reader crying, light angst, brief vomit mention, reader is in denial about/ oblivious to their feelings, no resolution to the problem, guilty feelings
You make your way through the hallways happily on your way, having eaten lunch with a few kids from your class and leaving a little earlier than necessary to avoid the dangers of the pre-class hallways. You round a corner and, at the opposite end, make direct eye contact with Tamaki Amajiki. His expression changes, eyes opening slightly to form an expression that you can’t, and quite frankly don’t want to, decipher the meaning of. You rapidly spin on your heels, darting back around the corner and out the nearest door, opting to take the longer, scenic route to your destination.
You had been friends with Tamaki since your first year at UA, having been paired multiple times for group projects. You wouldn’t say you were all that close, but he was nice, a good friend and easy to talk to. Well, more talk at. He was still pretty quiet around you. Through your group projects with him you met Mirio and Nejire, kind, albeit loud, people. You talk to them sometimes, but being UAs big 3 they're usually pretty busy with various extra responsibilities.
But as of recent days, you’ve found yourself getting more nervous around him, feeling self conscious, looking to him after everything you say and whenever someone makes a joke to see if he laughs. You don’t know why you feel this way, what you do know is that you do NOT like him, not in that way. He's just a friend, a really, really sweet friend…
Tamaki's strength was remarkably admirable, not just his physical strength, but his emotional strength too. He was so dedicated to being a hero, and it made your chest tighten to think about how he truly puts his all into his dream.
Unfortunately, being the quiet person he is, you not speaking as much out of nerves led to you not really talking to each other at all, your small friendship appearing to have ended from an outside perspective.
Lost in your thoughts as you walk to the library for your study period, you almost don’t notice Nejire trailing next to you, having called you from a distance and been blocked out by your internal struggle.
‘[Reader]!! Hiii!’
Same old Nejire, always so energetic. You struggle to look at her in an attempt to show that you were listening as you fight your way through the stampede of students desperately trying to avoid late passes and detentions.
‘Hi Nejire’
You manage whilst your shoulder gets bashed by a particularly anxious first year. You don’t have your free period with Nejire, nor do you have any plans or any jobs assigned to you with her, so her choice of rushing a conversation in a time of crazed students is an interesting one to say the least.
You resign to the fact that she probably has something specific she wants to talk about, stopping a few metres short of the library so as to not bother the students inside. She looks a little unsure of herself, which is very out of character for the usually overconfident, bubble of energy.
‘Is everything okay?’
You ask as the longer she hesitates, the more it makes you uncomfortable.
‘Uh, well…are you upset with Tamaki? You’ve been avoiding him and he thinks he’s done something to make you hate him.’
Oh shit. You hadn’t considered how your avoidant behaviour would be perceived from his end, only concerned with pushing down the strange feelings and trying to stop him from noticing your change in actions. Guess that backfired pretty hard.
You know why it’s Nejire to approach you about this and not Tamaki. You know that he would probably never say anything even remotely close to confronting you about your behaviour. You know that if it had continued, you would stop being friends and likely never speak again. Was any of that planned? You wish you could say you were smart enough to think your actions through that far, but no. Every move you had made was a split second reaction, having trained it into reflex at this point.
Now you feel like a terrible person, having put Tamaki through all that, all because of your weird feelings towards him.
‘...No I..I should talk to him about this, not you. Sorry Nejire, but maybe you should go to class.’
You turn without waiting for a response, not in the mood to be chewed out for hurting one of her best friends.
‘Hey [reader]?’
You stop in place at how quiet and soft her voice is.
‘Tamaki may be quiet but he’s a nice guy and he means well..just, please don’t hurt my friend’
And with that she was gone, leaving you standing alone in the now vacant halls, silence allowing your thoughts to overtake you. As you feel tears well up in your eyes at the whole situation, guilt at your actions and discomforted bile in your throat at the vulnerability of having to speak to him about this, to explain why you’ve been such a dick.
You let yourself out the nearest doorway, hoping the air would be able to calm you, panicked laughs leave your lips as you sob, emotions pouring out in a small, hidden section behind the library section.
When you finally calm yourself enough to think straight and breathe properly, you wrack your brain for why you’ve been feeling and acting this way. You reckon you kinda need a reason for when you apologise to Tamaki, would be a pretty shitty one without it.
You think about the tightness in your chest when you talk to him, how lightheaded you get when he smiles that gorgeous smile of his in his few moments of unconscious relaxation. You think about how strong he is and how amazing he looks when he fights. You think about how loyal and trusting he is to his friends, how no matter how many obstacles he faces, no matter how much ridicule he receives, he never ever gives up.
The rain is not letting up, so, you resign to your fate, slipping on your raincoat and your rain boots, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the downpour.
Loosely clutching the sachet of cat food in your left hand you make your way along your street, turning down the alley next to your apartment building and searching for the stray you have been feeding for the past few months. Everyday at this same time, right when you get off work, you make this trip, the cat having become accustomed to this outline and making its way to a perch near the food bowl you leave tucked behind a rubbish bin.
You’re aware of the cat but are careful not to startle it, slowly crouching down to squeeze out the puree. The cat dropping down and nuzzling around your ankles in appreciation.
Your moment of silence is interrupted when the faint sound of a puddle splashing next to you. You startle, not having heard their footsteps. The cat ignores the both of you as you stand to face the stranger.
A pro hero? Not one you recognise but that's definitely a hero costume, a bag of cat treats hang loosely from his hand and his other comes to scratch lightly at the back of his neck.
The cat, having scoffed down his meal, pranced over to paw at his heavy duty boots, knowingly expecting a treat.
‘You’ve been feeding her too?’
‘...yeah, guess we’ve been conned’
A relaxed smile cracked at his cheeks, small but real. His hair flattened by the rain, you can’t help but think about how pretty he looks, sort of ethereal under the streetlights and the star splattered sky.
‘It’s kinda like we’ve got split custody over her’
You giggle internally at the concept, stopping when you realise him staring blankly at you. Only just realising that you’ve said it out loud. You begin to stammer out an awkward retraction when a smile overtakes his face, a soft, carefree laugh falling out of his lips. You too begin to laugh, baffled by the stupidity of what you said to a complete stranger, a hero no less.
The cat skitters away, thrown off by the sudden noise as you both reel in the ridiculousness of it all.
Steve was a classic gentleman, flowers and opening doors engrained so deeply into his brain from growing up in the 1920’s. Which is probably why he was a little reluctant when you suggested he let you plan your activity for the day, but of course being Steve, he said yes.
He showed up at your door early in the afternoon, meeting you at the doorstep with a bouquet of your favourite flowers and that stupidly charming smile. He’d dressed as best he could based on your horrendously vague description of your plans but, as you’d reminded him while he tried to coax more information out of you, you believed he’d look good in anything.
‘Wear something you don't care about and bring a nice change of clothes’
Is all you’d told him, prompting him to express lighthearted fear of what you had planned for him.
You let him in with a soft peck on the cheek, stepping away to put the flowers into some water.
He stepped into your living room with no specific expectations, however he still found it in himself to be surprised at what he saw laid out in front of him. Across the coffee table laid various assortments of art supplies, mostly focused around paint. Fresh jars of water sat ready in the center, with canvases propped against random household objects, a candle stick and some kind of ceramic figure. He listened out to you in the kitchen, filling the vase, and its then that he notices the music playing from the corner of the room. A record player that you certainly didn’t have before was playing the music of a random singer from the 40’s.
Meekly you peeked your head around into the room, craning your neck to see Steve's reaction. You’d hoped to give him something that felt normal. Remind him of the thing that was constant in his life, even before he was Captain America. Art.
The softening of his brow and the gentle smile that graced his lips told you that you’d at least not offended him enough to have him storm off and leave. He set his bag containing his change of clothes down and kneeled to the floor. You followed suit, trying to act as if you weren’t just watching him like some kind of fan, and you began to list off the many items you had in front of you.
As you watched his beautifully calm focus while he worked, you decided the two of you needed nothing more. Sneaking off under the guise of going to the bathroom, you cancelled your reservation and ordered take out for delivery.
Warnings: None, just awkward reader, reader has no physical description
Word Count:425
Like most people in the world, you’d followed the great ‘Captain America’s extremely public life story. From the memorials posted in his honour you’d waded through on spontaneous city trips with your friends, to the blaring and very hard to miss headlines when he’d been pulled from the ice. You’d cheered with friends and it had felt much more like watching a movie than a live event. You’d watched with bated breath as he and the avengers stopped the city from being destroyed by an alien raid. It was probably the reason you found it so hard to imagine him as a regular person, doing anything other than saving the world.
But there he was, not even 2 metres away from you, and he was DEFINITELY a real person, he was also most certainly not saving the world at the moment. Unless taking down bad guys involved scouring the herbs and spices aisle of a grocery store. He must have been used to being gawked at because, despite your closeness and glaringly obvious staring problem, he remained focused on the rack of spices in front of him.
Up close, you could make out a lot of details that were lost in the dusty haze that marred the quality of the cameras that stalked him after a battle, or the grainy, deteriorating memorabilia plastered along the walls of museums. Details like, for example, the deep parallel creases that ran vertically between his brows, a physical manifestation of his years brooding and world hero stuff.
You knew you should stop staring. Of course you should…but oh my god he was gorgeous.
When he finally made his choice and turned away from the shelf, his eyes met yours and a soft but deliciously charming smile graced his chiseled features. You swore your neck had never moved as fast as it did, whipping to face the items in front of you, trying your best to act interested in the various types of herbs laid out at your eye level. You could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment, and you did all you could to stop yourself from returning the look.
The next time you saw him on tv, it felt different. Less like a show, and more like watching a person. A real person that you had seen fighting to keep your home safe. You couldn’t wait til you needed to stock up on groceries again, so that maybe, you could run into him again, and thank him personally. Take the chance to show your gratitude.
While working in a music store is fun, it is, unfortunately, still a customer service job, and therefore, sucks a big fat one.
Fortunately today’s a good one, quiet but not so much that you got bored, enough customers to entertain you without being constantly busy and bothered. Able to calmly work through your long shift, happily bopping along to the playlist you curated or work-safe music that was still fun. Your feet doing a little shuffle as you move across the floor and along the displays as you continue slotting the new records satisfyingly into their band-based sections. The sound of the bell that rests dustily atop the door peaks your attention as your head whips around to greet the customer in your practised customer service voice, a smile immediately plastering onto your face.
You falter mid greeting as your eyes focus on the figure entering. It couldn’t be. Right? There was no way a pro hero would be coming into this tiny little store…Right? You quickly regain your composure, remembering your job, you greet her enthusiastically.
‘Welcome to ‘For The Record’, I’m [reader], if there's anything you need at all today I'm here to help!’
At least you didn’t forget that, it was too ingrained into your memory to forget it, having repeated it so many times. She awards you a small smile and a greeting, eyes flicking excitedly around the store. She begins methodically flicking through the records in her chosen row of records, lighting up as she finds a specific one. She holds it a little awkwardly in her hands as she tries to continue looking while holding it, being far too careful to rest it on top of the other records, you offer to hold it at the counter for her and she gratefully accepts, thanking you before turning back to the records.
She returns with another record to finish her purchase, looking a bit disappointed. You ask her if she found everything she wanted and you watch her hesitate, before explaining that she had been searching for two records at many stores, one of which she had found at the beginning, the other had sadly not been in the displays. You ask her of the band name and then the name of the album so that you could search it in the stores system, she explains that it was a lesser known band and therefore not stocked in many places. You nod along, expressing your sympathy, struggling to find content from certain artists being an all too familiar plight. Seeing that you have a copy of that album in stock from a delivery over 6 months ago, which is very strange, usually deliveries are sorted for stocking the immediate Tuesday after they were delivered, weekends being too busy and mondays being spent recovering the store from the weekend messes.
You ask her to give you a moment, finally allowing yourself to panic once behind the ‘staff only’ doors. And, after a few minutes of searching, YOU FIND IT. You’re so excited to have helped her you practically leap out the doors, excitedly showing her the record. The way her beautiful features light up fills you with pride and slaps a smile on your face that remains as you process her payment and give her the customary goodbye, though a little more personalised, telling her you hope she enjoys the records and that she should tell you about the songs.
You blush as you realise that you had assumed she would come back out loud, which is SO embarrassing considering she only came after trying many other stores, this was not her first choice. Still, you hope she'll come back, maybe talk to you a bit. Is it so wrong to hope for someone to struggle to find something so that they would come back to you?
You’d been planning this out for weeks, the one day a year where you could finally show your boyfriend just how much he means to you. You’d thought as hard as possible and worked to plan out things that you knew he would love, that speak to how well you know him. In the craze of it all it was no surprise you let some things slip your mind.
You’d focussed so hard on what you were going to be together, so much on keeping it a secret that you kinda forgot to mention it to Steven. So, as a result of your horrendous planning, you’d both planned something.
It started early, with Steven waking you up with your favourite breakfast in bed followed by you presenting a gift you’d decided screamed Steven the moment you saw it.
The problems began when you both started getting ready for the day, you tried to give him a nudge in the direction of how dressed up he should be, and he just looked at you blankly with a tilted head. Blinking a few times he righted his head and seemed to decide this was just you wanting a certain vibe for the day and moved on.
Only when he took the lead and started leading you in what was the opposite direction of the train station you needed to be at in 10 minutes did you realise your fuck up.
‘Uhh Steven?’
A soft hum in response
‘Steven.’
He felt the tug of your hand as you stopped behind him, keeping them linked as he turned around.
‘Come on love, we’re gonna be late’
‘Yes we are so why are you taking us this way?’
‘What are you talking about?’
You both stared for a moment
‘Oh’
‘Yeah, oh…what are we gonna do Steven?’
You both shared what you had planned out for the day, him having apparently made the same mistake you did. Your heart melted as he went on about the details of it, the extent of how much care he’d taken to make you happy, releasing a swarm of butterflies in your chest.
In the interest of making things fair, you each compromised, losing an aspect of your plans to fit the others.
I mean, would it really be a date with Steven Grant if the most avoidable things didn’t go wrong?
