#trying to fluff

[theorphicangel]

sukuna would never admit it but he can’t really sleep without you. he tries to keep it…discreet until you notice how adamant he is to stay up if you do too. you find him waiting patiently in bed, all tucked in and scrolling on his phone.

‘you waited for me?’

‘no. I’m just not sleepy yet.’

and that was a goddamn lie. the crease under his eyes and the constant yawning he had at dinner proved wrong.

it’s only when you’re tucked away in his arms that he can fully relax, light snores coming from his chest as he exhales in and out.

good luck trying to separate from his sleeping state.

[jiyuu-zou]

morning workouts with daddy!gojo <3

this is after that incident and he is living life to the fullest and recovering well !!!!!!!

inspired by this cute video :3

// please do not use/edit or trace my work. do not post my work anywhere outside of tumblr without my permission.

also, art commissions are open! <3

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

literally everyone can tell whenever you're mad at katsuki. it pisses him off because he feels like he can hide the fact he's bothered and that he's gotten his bf privileges revoked pretty well, but apparently not. not at all.

because all of his friends periodically come over to ask him what's wrong.

"you okay, man ?" asked kirishima. and when katsuki waved him of the boy gave him a thumbs up and an "i'm always here when you need it !"

did he seriously look that miserable ?!

"woah dude, you look more constipated than usual ! you good?!" denki exclaimed, even offering him a very unnecessary arm around his shoulder and an "if you need anything, i'm here to talk !"

every single fibre of self control was needed for katsuki not to grab him by his throat and fling him out of the nearest window.

and sero, oh so gracefully, had told him "woah, you look terrible. trouble in paradise ?" even snickering to himself. "better go apologise soon, loverboy !"

katsuki had to leave the room to not shove his hand down the bastard's throat and accidentally let off a howitzer impact. completely by accident, of course.

it seriously does bother him a bit because...what the hell ?! you don't have that much power over him !

...do you ?

well apparently you do, because the moment you make up all of his friends look oh, so smug. somehow, they all notice that he looks way happier today, something he himself hadn't even noticed !

okay, so what if he was in a better mood now ? of course he was ! who enjoys fighting with their partner anyway ?

but shit, he realises, maybe he is completely whipped. and maybe everyone around him can see it. but fuck it, you're not mad at him anymore and he doesn't give a shit.

[ddrunkdazed]

By the time Sylus gets home, you’ve been asleep for enough time to feel well rested.

He goes on about his usual routine: disarming himself, checking that everything is running smoothly, having a steaming shower. If he notices that you’ve been staring at him the whole time he’s been coming and going in and out the room, he doesn’t say anything.

Maybe he’s not even aware that you’re awake. After all, Sylus doesn’t like disturbing you, especially not when you’re sleeping. Or maybe he just likes to feel your eyes on him — he’s mentioned it before. And so, you scan his every move, the way his muscles ripple under the satin robe he likes to wear after showering, and how he flexes as he throws on his pajamas.

You stare at him for so long that you’ve started to drift off again. Perhaps you weren’t entirely awake and your longing for Sylus’ presence made you conjure him up, almost like a genie had granted you a wish; and your wish would always, always be him.

You feel his lips press to your forehead, his slender fingers softly caressing your cheek before he sits on the bed, the expensive mattress barely dipping under his weight, “Get some rest, sweetie.”

Sylus lies down next to you and now it’s your turn to feel his eyes on you, while he traces your features softly with the tip of his finger, as if he intends to commit you to memory in that precise moment.

For a brief second, you’re tempted to start one of your bantering moments, those when you both pretend you’re not equally crazy about the other even though you spend the entire day longing for him. Even in your busiest moments, your brain still supplies you with brief moments of intense yearning, like your souls are trying to constantly reach for each other.

You both end up falling asleep, but before the sun rises, you wake up again. This time, Sylus’ back is facing you. So strong, yet so soft. Your dragon, in all his glory. So vulnerable, with all his scars, lying there next to you.

Instinctively, you raise your hand, the unbearable need to touch him taking over you. And yet, you stop yourself, fingers tingling as your hand hangs mid-air. Sylus barely shuffles and you lower your hand softly, your eyes burning holes on his pale skin, a confession in the tip of your tongue.

Still, you hold back. You can just stare at his back the whole day. At least until you’re courageous enough to mutter the three words that have been stuck in your throat for so long.

[snail-day]

You swear Geto ends up on his tummy more often than not. Draped across the bed like a lazy cat, broad back rising and falling with each breath, that beautiful inky dark hair tied half-heartedly in a low bun that’s already slipping loose. A few strands fall against his cheek, casting a shadow over those long lashes and the lazy curve of his mouth. He’s so annoyingly pretty like this - it’s tempting to attack him.

And he lets you.

One hand lazily typing on his phone, sending a message to Satoru asking when he’s going to be home. So you pounce while you have the chance. (Not like he'd stop you.)

You straddle him, smack his ass a few times, knead your fingers into the plushest parts of him as if he’s your own personal stress toy. And he just hums with every little assault. Sometimes you bite him, sink your teeth into his shoulder, just to feel the sharp intake of breath, to catch the subtle twitch of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Getting it all out of your system?” he drawls, unbothered, sending a help gif to Satoru. A message that receives a heart react.

You slip cold hands beneath the hem of his dark shirt and he doesn’t even flinch. Just lets out another low hum, close to a purr, amused and warm. His chest is stupidly firm under your palms, radiating heat, and you swear he could flip you over and trap you beneath him without even trying.

But he doesn’t.

Because he’s patient. Always has been, out of the two of you. He knows that eventually, you’ll wear yourself out, that you’ll end up curled right where he wants you. And so he lets you play, lets you giggle and wiggle and bite until your energy runs thin, until you’re soft and sleepy against his side, cheek pressed to his bulky shoulder, body tucked beneath the weight of his arm.

Then he turns. Just his head at first, those wine-dark eyes cutting to you through thick, heavy lashes. That slow, feline smile starts to curl across his lips. He watches you for a moment, messy, warm, half-limp beneath him, still letting out the occasional spurt of giggles.

And then he drawls, voice syrup-slow and honey-soft, just enough to make your stomach flip. For your giggles to turn nervous:

“My turn.”

[miryum]

Simon Riley who, when you moved in with him, also had to adjust to your little dog. He loved dogs, as evident by Riley, but your dog was not like Riley. Riley was a war-hardened German Shepard that could sniff out bombs and had survived a bullet wound. Your dog looked like it would pee on the helicopter that was sent to rescue it and bark at the medic before rolling over for belly rubs.

Your dog was all bark and no bite. They were a small, fluffy little thing who you spoiled more than Simon. It took them a while to adjust to Simon, but when they realised that Simon laid heavily on the couch after deployment and was willing to be their personal pillow, your little dog reluctantly accepted him.

As for the dynamic between Riley and your dog, your little pupper was insistent that they were the boss of the house. They barked at Riley when first introduced as Riley just sat there, waiting for it to be over. Soon enough, though, your dog was curled up with Riley, cuddling. That always made you coo and take pictures of the pair, though Simon grumped that he’d rather have you pay attention to him.

Speaking of attention not on Simon, when the hell did your shared bed also become the dogs’ bed? When it was just Simon and Riley, Riley had his own bed and kennel in the living room. And Simon loved you so much. He was so fucking happy when you moved in. Hell, he was happy just to have you in his bed. Waking up with you tucked into his side, protected by him, was something he adored. It was better than heaven. But that heaven was usually interrupted by your scrappy little dog wiggling its way in between you two. He would turn around when you started petting and baby-talking the dog, only to see Riley at the foot of the bed, staring up at him. That’s how both dogs began sleeping in your shared bed.

You adored Riley just as much as you adored your own dog. You loved going on walks with Simon, the dogs on their leashes. Riley was a perfect walker, next to Simon the entire time with such military precision that you doubted the canine even needed a leash. Your dog on the other hand… they weaved all over the path, pausing to sniff and pee every half block. Simon wanted to train your dog like he had trained Riley, but you refused. “Oh, shush. Look at that little face! Perfect already, Si.” Of course, he could never say no to you.

Speaking of Riley’s training, however, Simon could tell that his dog was slowly slipping farther and farther from his strict regimen. With the excessive treats that you slipped Riley, the dog was gaining some chonkiness, just as his owner. As his deployments got further and further apart and his retirement got more and more likely (perhaps because of the ring in his dresser drawer), he allowed himself to stay in bed longer with you rather than getting up to exercise in the wee hours of the morning. You didn’t mind, obviously. You liked the softness that Simon was acquiring and he was always a big man to begin with. Just because his tummy was becoming more squishy didn’t mean that he still couldn’t throw his weight around if someone was bothering you.

Simon, combined with Riley, allowed for ‘scary dog privileges.’ There was a time when a creepy man began following you when Simon was on deployment and you were walking Riley. Your own little dog was getting their hair cut, so it was just you and Riley. You noticed something was wrong when Riley’s ears perked up and his movements got a bit more robotic. You glanced around, knowing Riley’s instincts were never wrong. After seeing the man, you decided to head back towards the edge of the park, where more people were. When the man didn’t give up, though, and got even closer, Riley went full guarddog. He stepped closer to you and turned around to face the man. After a few loud, thundering barks that drew the attention of everyone around, the man scuttled away. Later that month when Simon was back home, both dogs cuddled up to you on the bed, he didn’t know whether to be mad that you didn’t tell him immediately (though he could never get mad at you) or to be proud that Riley protected you so fiercely. Anxiety and fear rushed through Simon, but you calmed him with a small kiss and Riley set his head on Simon’s stomach. Riley definitely earned the scratches behind the ears that he got.

Most dog owners took their dogs out for one last pee before bedtime and Simon was no exception. You always made Simon take the dogs out because you were usually cuddled up in bed or in the blankets all cosy. He never once complained, either tugging on his jacket if it was windy out, or pulling on a hat if it was raining. He would do anything for you, even if it meant braving thick snow that crept into his boots. Riley always went quickly, even though both owner and dog knew that he could withstand the freezing temperatures. Your little idiot, on the other hand, would take their merry time, sniffing and trailing around the yard (which you had asked for when you and Simon moved out of his apartment and into a real house on the outskirts of the city). There were even times when another dog would be walking by and your canine would bark and run after them. Simon was always quick to jog after and scoop the dog up. Once in a while, Riley would give a deep bark as well, as if telling off your dog. Simon would then trudge back into the house, muttering curses under his breath, your dog under his arm.

But, as much as he pretended to hate your dog, there was always a soft spot there. Soon enough, “my girlfriend’s” dog became “my wife’s” dog and then “our” dog.

[prlssprfctn]

Damian wakes up, startled. He doesn't remember what he saw in his dreams, and he is not sure what caused him to feel so anxious, but he knows what to do. The routine is easy and comforting; he just needs to find his brother Jason. So, he goes.

His bare feet against the cold floor is soundless, making no sound, and he keeps rubbing his eyes until he sees one of the doors open. It must be Jason. He always keeps the door of his room open, just in case.

There is a dim light in the room, a small lamp on the desk, where the stakes of paper are stored, and Jason is here, as tall and huge as always, tapping on his feet in an attempt to concentrate, while twirling a pen between his fingers. He is either reading or working on something else: writes down memories, afraid of them slipping away due to the Lazarus Pit hammering in his temples all the time.

Damian yawns and steps closer, tapping on his back.

'Akhi Jason,' he calls hoarsely. The body freezes, almost surprised — he is not supposed to; Jason hears him from the corridor, even if he is the most soundless kid in the whole world. 'I want to sleep.'

He never says he sees nightmares or that he is scared — just that. It always works.

Expect, this time it doesn't.

'What did you say?' Brother asks, his voice sounding so unusually stiff.

'Jason,' he repeats, more irritated this time. 'I said, I want to—'

When Jason turns around, Damian instinctively staggers back, his eyes widening.

The man in front of him is not Jason.

And for a second, Damian is panicking, until-

Until he doesn't remind himself that he is not home anymore. He is in the Wayne Manor, with his father.

With his father that looks exactly like his brother, only older, without scars, marring his face, and without a white streak that makes him look like a bird.

'Damian,' his father calls, slightly shaken. 'How do you know Jason?'

He swallows down. He is not supposed to tell about his brother. They instructed him not to.

But father has a familiar desperation in his eyes, the same one Jason had, when he was pacing around the room, muttering something incoherent, the cut out from newsletters photos of Bruce Wayne with Tim Drake in his hands, and-

And Damian shrugs.

'He is my brother,' he says, almost too innocently; because if he is going to be clueless about it, then what others will have to tell him? 'He stayed with a grandfather. It is a shame.'

Almost as if he doesn't understand what all of this implies.

'I was sleepy,' he adds. 'And got confused. My apologises, father. I shall return to my bedroom.'

Bruce stares, stares, and stares. And then, rubs his face with his hands, exhausted.

'I'll tuck you in. Let's go,' and a second later, with his voice sounding so familiarly small, just like how Jason's sounded when he first acknowledged him as his brother, he adds: 'Can you tell me more about your brother, Damian?'

And Damian tells him, of course.

He is not surprised to see the result of his work the next week.

[humanjarvis]

headcanon that farspace colonel!caleb gradually stops dropping the g’s from his words. in his new role, he’s forced to wear an unwavering mask of perfection, of accuracy and infallibility—there’s no place for his playful, informal cadence in the fleet’s operations.

and so, as the months go by, he exchanges his signature what are you thinkin’s and where are you’re goin’s for their grammatically correct yet vapid counterparts. 

when you reunite with him, it’s one of the many things about his transformation that make your heart ache, but you’ll never bring it up. you won’t risk crumpling his already fragile selfhood over such a trivial perception.

but the more time you spend together after you reconcile, the more his natural speech pattern peeks through.  

you’re in the midst of a pillow fight, landing blow after blow on his back, when you hear it: “you think you’re gettin’ the best of me? i don’t think so.”

and you’re so overjoyed by his casual tone—his transient return to the caleb you once knew—that you briefly forget what you’re doing, having no time to react before his apple throw pillow smacks you in the face

[awearywritersworld]

megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

[mumblers-lobby]

💍❤️‍🔥✨ hair-over-flames in love!

thanks to @thatskindarough for the idea ily buddy<3

[milkywayes]

Let all time slow / let all light go I'd block the sun / if you want it done

[theorphicangel]

alt universe where reader and sukuna don't break up in a messy way, this is much more civilised than the current series of drabbles i wrote, fluffy i promise!! happy belated valentines!! <3

Ex bf! Sukuna who shows up on your doorstep on valentine’s day, with flowers, a heart shaped balloon and a massive teddy bear.

You catch him by accident, his actions hoping to be anonymous until you open the door to leave for what seems to be a date. 

You’re all dolled up, with a dress that accentuates your figure and your hair all done up and ready. Sukuna’s mouth seems to go dry just at the sight of you, the realisation of what he has lost now creeping up on him.

‘What are you doing here?’ you frown, glancing at the array of objects in your ex boyfriend’s hands. Sukuna hesitates with his words, struggling to form a sentence whilst you gaze at him, you don’t seem angry. Just confused.

‘Yuji made me come.’

Sukuna swallows thickly, awkwardness filling his body. 

‘Yuji?’

Sukuna nods. ‘Him and Jin bought all this shit and didn’t know what to do with it.’

‘So you’re giving it to your ex?’

Sukuna’s shoulders drop. It’s barely been a month since you split, you’re both on good terms but you both agreed to stay out of contact unless necessary.

‘Okay, maybe I bought a thing or two but Yuji made you a valentine’s card at school. He really wanted me to give it to you.’ he admits.

‘Right.’ You mull over your words wondering what to say next. ‘Tell him I said thank you.’

‘I will.’

Silence fills the hallway. The elephant in the room is so obvious but neither of you know how to address it. Sukuna’s heart thumps in his chest, ultimately fearing the worst. 

You’ve moved on already,

‘Do you have-’

‘I’m-’

You both start at the same time and interrupt each other. You decide to let him speak first. 

‘Are you going on a date?’

It’s the question that has been sitting on his tongue ever since he saw you all dressed up. 

A slight smile reaches your lips at the thought of his possessiveness, a tinge of excitement at his proposed jealousy. Yes, you felt bad for thinking this way but deep down 

‘No, I’m having a galentines.’ you state.

You can visibly see the relief on Sukuna’s face, his shoulder drops from all the internal tension that he was holding within. 

Sukuna clears his throat. 

‘That’s nice.’

You hum, letting the silence make way between the two of you again. 

‘I should get going.’ you speak after a minute. 

‘Right, of course.’ 

You lean up to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. You can smell his cologne, it’s stronger than usual evident that he dabbed on a little extra before coming to meet you. 

Your lips are soft and it’s only after a blink that you pull away leaving Sukuna totally dumbfounded in your arms.  A mark of red lipstick on his cheek is the only evidence that you leave behind, visual evidence that he wasn’t just imagining things and you did kiss him. 

Immediately his cheeks burn red, the tinge of redness leading all the way up to his ears. 

‘Thank you ‘kuna.’

[justarandomart]

What about you? What about me? Well you're here too We're here together ~

original screenshots :)

[okkalo]

a lovestruck miya atsumu would do anything for you. he didn’t care about appearances and how he looked to anyone else. you were the one he desperately hoped would give him some type of approval, after all.

long day of walking and your feet are sore? he’ll do what he never would with anyone else and kneel before you like a damn dog, taking your shoes off for you and begin massaging your feet. something else sore? go ahead and tell him while he’s massaging and he’ll change his spot of focus without a second thought.

cold around him? he’s taking off anything he can to give to you in hopes it would keep you warm—please tell him to stop stripping in public. dropped something? oh, and it so happened to fall in the depths of the ocean? he’s diving right in. no equipment is needed for the best setter in the world (he almost died that day).

god forbid he see you with another man. he’s coming up to you like you’re a spiker he needs to claim, slinging his arm around you and butting straight into the conversation. if the guy’s far too close for his comfort, he’ll make sure to give you a big wet kiss on your lips as well. he’ll give you a list of reasons about why the other guy was far from your league once you two are alone as well.

miya atsumu hates losing after all, and he vowed to never lose you to another man.

[snail-day]

Suguru can be a bit manipulative… okay, maybe a lot. But can you really blame a guy for wanting his girlfriend to stay over for more than eight hours? It’s your first night at his place, and you’re just going to leave in the morning?

Yeah, that doesn’t sit right with him.

And it’s not like he’s even being pushy. You two haven’t done anything yet. Even though - god - there’ve been moments tonight where he’s sure his self-control is about to snap.

Like when he let you use his shower for the first time, and he had to pretend he wasn’t imagining what you looked like in one of his towels, hair dripping wet, skin flushed from the steam. Or how he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle you coming out smelling like him.

Or earlier, in the kitchen - your soft footsteps padding around, your voice all curious and sweet when you asked where he keeps the tableware. That little pout. Those eyes. The way your hips brushed against him when you reached for the cups, and his hands instinctively went to your waist. He prayed - begged - you didn’t feel the hard-on pressed against you. He's a religious man after all.

So when you’re finally nestled beside him in bed, wrapped in his dark, silky sheets, his arms, his scent - he’s desperately reminding himself: Don’t be a pervert. Don’t ruin this. You're too good to me. You're not ready. I’m not ready.

He’s not ready to see what your face looks like when he’s on top of you. Whether you're the type to reach for his hands. Whether you’d whine into his kisses and chase them like you’re addicted to him.

Of course he doesn't sleep well. Not with you so close. Not when he keeps pulling you tighter against him in the middle of the night. Not when all he can think is - Please don’t leave yet.

So, of course, he wakes up before you. Of course he adjusts the blinds just right - so the light doesn’t hit your eyes, but still kisses your skin like a cat sunbathing. Of course he tucks the comforter closer around you, warm and heavy, so you stay cocooned in comfort while he goes about his morning.

He checks in on you often. Teases you when you stir, coos about how sleepy you are. Laughs softly when you grab for his hand, half-conscious. And of course he’s going to make it feel like this is your idea. Staying a little longer. Getting cozy. Not rushing off.

Because the truth is - he doesn’t want you to leave. Is that really so bad?

[dollyfetti]

🍮⠀⠀ notes: popular!bakugou x nerdy!reader, fluffy, college au ‿ ୧ 🍡⠀ word count: 839

everyone's either in love with bakugou or wants to be him. he always has people bombarding him with questions about his quirk or trying to get close to him. he doesnt mind the attention. bakugou carries a large amount of pride that comes along with his popularity. he's worshipped, always walking the halls with people following him.

but then theres you. a silent girl in most of his classes. you keep to yourself in your own little world for the most part with very few close friends. your seat is in front of bakugou in all of your shared lectures, and you never bothered him, not once. truth be told, he never really thought about you until a specific night.

slamming his friend's car door shut, bakugou grumbles, "you idiots." he wasted yet another good night for studying. he threw it away by partying with people he didn't even find interesting. gosh, it's already 10:30. he wouldn't be able to stay awake. but he can't just go to sleep! nono, exams are too close. he needs glue all of the information he can into his brain. kirishima had recommended getting a study buddy-- who the hell would want to actually study with bakugou?? the girls would be distracted by his "huge muscles" and "unique hair" while any guys would be begging to see his quirk in action.

fuck this! katsuki doesn't need anyones help.

that confident thought bubble changes as he walks up the stairs to the dormitories. he remembers that quiet dork in most of his classes.. you seem pretty normal for the most part. a bit of a nerd too, so he wouldn't be worried about you having the wrong shit written down. with an ashamed grunt, he decides to find your dorm.

you munch on freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, going over notes you'd gotten from yesterday's lecture. you tiredly lean back against your chair in a tiny tank top and shorts with your hair up in a claw clip. you're slightly bopping your head to the quiet music playing in the background when you hear heavy thuds of someone walking towards your room. you perk up when said person knocks on your door softly. you happily smile, thinking maybe one of your friends are stopping by. excited you made so many cookies, you hurry to the door and swing it open.

with his hands dug into his pockets and drained frown, the katsuki bakugou stands at your door.. odd. "oh!" you squealed, your hand covering your mouth. "sorry, just-- wasn't expecting you." you nervously rub your arm, leaning against the door frame.

he lazily raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "you expectin' someone?"

you shake your head. "nope.." you mutter with an awkward smile. bakugou eyes you up and down quickly, quietly clearing his throat at the small amount of clothing adorning your body. you bite your lip embarrassedly while averting your gaze. "you wanna come in?" you chirp, stepping to the side. he lets out a soft hum of confirmation, taking big strides into your dorm before you shut the door behind him. he walks over to your desk to observe your neatly written notes. "i need someone to study with-- you aren't stupid or anythin' right?" he cocks a brow, turning his head to look at you.

you hum lightly. "mm no, i dont think so.."

the scruffy boy plops down in your heart-shaped chair, flipping through the pages you had spent such precious time working on. you fiddle with your fingers shyly, biting the inside of your cheek as you watch bakugou. "..do you want a cookie?" you politely ask, pointing towards the plate on your desk, walking towards him. his head turned to where your finger was pointing.

his eyes flicker to the plate, hesitantly taking a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and biting into it. it was soft and chewy-- and warm. his crimson eyes brighten a little, just a little. "'s not bad. would be better with coffee." he stares at the bitten cookie, cupping his other under the treat, careful not to make a mess. your bubbly self returns, offering a sweet smile. "coffee coming up!"

that day was the first of many of you and katsuki spending time together. you were never around people too often, yet alone someone as popular and liked as bakugou. and as for him, he thought you were decently likeable. you made him feel good about himself without talking about his quirk or giant pecs. you also never asked if he had a girlfriend or if he was free next friday night. you were just you.

you had talked more than he anticipated. that night, bakugou found himself quiet while you blabbed about whatever came into your head, and he didn't mind it at all. even after that study session and hanging out numerous times, you're still that one quiet nerd in the classroom. only he gets to see the chatty side of you-- and he likes that. makes him feel special.