Breakfast In Bed

Breakfast in Bed

Author's Note: Ignore my old user in the corner of the screen I'm not changing it. Divider by @cafekitsune :) If you want a more immersive experience, I suggest listening to this while reading.

Content: Being brought breakfast in bed, but nothing that needs warnings.

Word Count: 1425

Summary: Howl brings you breakfast in bed, and top notch cuddles, too.

It was the jarring cold that woke you up. 

Howl ran deliciously warm, and ever since he had insisted on sleeping in the same bed (“It’ll save space! A-and you said you get cold in the night, so being in the same bed will help.”), you had gotten used to the heat of the small bed and close proximity that Howl provided. You were used to being able to snuggle deeper into his chest when you got cold, used to the feeling of his arms tighten around you as you shifted impossibly closer. 

Now, however, Howl was nowhere to be found when you half-woke, shivering. His side (if you could call it that, as his bed wasn’t made for two people) was barely warm and still had a dip where he had slept. So Howl didn’t leave too long ago, you decided, curling into a ball where he had been. 

Your eyes drifted lazily around Howl’s bedroom. It was one of the nicest you had seen, despite the clutter, filled with sparkling charms, books, ingredients for spells, and things you didn’t know the names of. It was dimly-lit, and despite being cold, it gave off a cozy feeling that somehow always made you sleepy. You turned your face into one of Howl’s pillows, inhaling the faint scent of candle wax, brass, and something earthy that you couldn’t place but sent a warm feeling blooming in your cheeks. You kept thinking of how nice it was, how cozy and safe you felt in his bed, and how the faint rocking of Howl’s castle almost had you asleep again when he came back. 

You watched as the door opened slowly, pushed ajar by Howl, who was focused on balancing a tray of food. His tongue was poking out of the side of his mouth, and when he finally closed the door with his foot, he broke into his signature, wide-eyed smile. 

“You’re awake!” He said, holding up the tray triumphantly. “I made breakfast.”

“I thought I heard Calcifer grumbling,” you muttered, snuggling deeper under the covers, smiling at the thought of the fire demon and Howl making breakfast together. 

Howl placed the tray of food carefully on a stack of books next to his bed, and leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “Well, good morning then. I’m sorry if we woke you, my love.” 

You simply shook your head and sat up, Howl’s hand a comforting presence on your arm. He fluffed up a pillow behind you and eased you back onto it. He smiled at you again, clearly excited, and then gave you the tray to hold onto. The smell of crisp bacon, fried eggs, and something sweet wafted into your nose, and you glanced down. To your delight, it was a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes topped with maple syrup and fresh butter. Your stomach growled at the sight, and you were about to dig in when you stopped. 

“What’re you going to eat?” You asked Howl, who was in the middle of taking his pants off and letting his sleep shirt (which he had tucked into his pants) fall to his mid-thigh. He blinked at you, his bright blue eyes flashing cheekily. 

“I was thinking we could share,” Howl offered. His stomach growled as he said that, and you just giggled, letting Howl climb under the covers and snuggle up to your legs, one arm behind your back, and the other hugging your leg. He sighed contentedly into your hip, trying to shove himself as close to you as physically possible. You watched as he got comfortable, forgetting about the food and instead choosing to stare at your lover. His black hair spilled over the pillows, effortlessly beautiful, and you smiled. The slope of his nose, his arched eyebrows, the way his lips curled into a smile when you wound a lock of his hair around your finger - it was all perfect to you. 

“You’re beautiful, Howl,” you whispered, letting his hair fall back into place. 

He chuckled. “Thank you, my love, but our food is getting cold. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like cold eggs.” 

You rolled your eyes and started eating, cutting up pieces of bacon and pancakes and then sticking them with your fork to feed Howl. He hummed every time and stuck his tongue out for more, his eyes scrunched closed. 

“Do you want the last bite?” You asked, swinging a forkful of pancake, egg, and bacon over his mouth. Howl shook his head, so you shrugged and ate the last bite with glee. Every meal that Howl made was delicious, and telling him so made him smile. It was always smiling with you both. You couldn’t help it, his laugh and smile were infectious, and just thinking of it made you break into a grin of your own. 

You moved the tray off of your lap and back onto Howl’s stack of books on magic, and he released your leg so that you could slide back under the duvet. When you were both fully snuggled up under the covers, Howl whispered something, a spell, you recognized faintly, and soon you heard wind whistling through the bedroom. 

“What are you doing?” You asked incredulously, shifting closer to Howl. “You’re gonna make me even colder.”

Howl simply held you tighter, his legs entangling with yours, and said, “I thought you’d like this.”

You stopped trying to burrow into his chest and waited, one eye peeking above the edge of the duvet cautiously. The only thing you heard for a minute was the muffled sound of your heartbeats. Then you heard the bells and hanging charms that Howl kept in his room, tinkling and chiming softly as the wind passed through them. It was a magical sound, one that made you gasp, as normally they only clinked together in the night when the castle rocked too far to one side. But now, they sang in harmony, one created by Howl just for you. 

“I love it,” you whispered, scooting up so that you could cup his face and look at him at the same time. He hummed, nuzzling into your hand before giving your palm a tender kiss. It was such a simple action, but it always managed to make your face get hot without hesitation. 

 You both knew each other’s blush-triggers, and it just so happened that gentle, friendly kisses anywhere but Howl’s lips were his. So in retaliation, you pushed Howl’s bangs back and went to kiss his forehead. Even giving him a peck on the corner of his mouth sent him stumbling over his words and redder than Calcifer.

He was always flamboyant with his declarations of love for you - bouquets of roses, fireworks on your birthday, massive presents for the holidays - so subtle gestures got him blushing hard. The thought that you were able to make Howl Pendragon, revered wizard, blush was enough to get your insides feeling soft and gooey. 

Howl did go red at the gesture, just as you predicted. As you went to give him a second kiss, right between his eyebrows, he turned his face upwards, and your lips landed on his. It took you by surprise, Howl’s soft lips pressing firmly against yours, but soon you were kissing him back with just as much passion and emotion. 

“I love you,” you whispered when you both broke away, giddy and breathless. Howl’s hands were clasped at the base of your neck, his thumbs stroking little patterns into your skin. 

“I love you more,” he whispered back.

“We should probably-” you started, but were cut off by Howl. 

“No!” He cried, letting go of you to burrow under the covers dramatically. “I’m not getting up. I want to stay in bed with you.” 

“Howl, please,” you begged, stifling laughter. 

“No! If you truly love me, you’ll stay in bed with me.” You could feel him pouting against your stomach. 

You combed your hands through his hair, twirling one inky lock of his hair around your finger. “We can take a bath together, if you want.”

Howl’s demeanor changed instantly. He threw back the covers, scrambling to get out of bed. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Calcifer, run some hot water for a bath!”

You giggled, watching Howl sprint into the bathroom as you crawled out of bed, slipping your feet into house shoes. It was going to be a long morning, you thought, but you’d take a thousand long mornings, so long as they were spent with Howl.

End Notes: Guys I love Howl sm. Thanks for reading!

AO3 Link

ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK TO ANY SITE.

YES‼️‼️‼️‼️ TYSM 🫶🫶

hi! do u still have that drawing of fem!dabi you drew a few years ago? she was sitting and rlly rlly pretty and i miss her but cant find her 😔

you mean these ones right?

Turquoise and Velvet by Daniel F. Gerhartz

Dyed Hair and Inked Skin

Author's Note: I wrote this while in my feels and listening to Michael Buble. Idk what more to tell y'all.

Contents: Dyeing hair, tattoos but not in the conventional way. Kissing and confessions.

Word Count: 1924

Summary: You knew Dabi before, as Touya. And then Touya was gone, no matter how much you wished for him to come back.

You weren’t stupid, contrary to what the rest of the world thought of you.

When you were little, you knew Touya. He was your friend. Maybe not the best of friends, but you still hung out when you could. You didn’t know why he hung out with you, you were quirkless and a bit of a reject, but he insisted he stick by your side. He said it had something to do with his father, but you didn’t press it. Your mother didn’t exactly approve of him as you both got older, but his attitude towards you never changed. He was kind, in his own way, despite his rangy looks and quick tongue.

A “don’t stay up too late, stupid. You don’t need bigger eye bags,” as he left was enough to know he cared, deep down. You were tempted to pull on one of his piercings, just to fuck with him.

But you didn’t. And you walked him to his door, just down the road. He flicked your forehead gently before he went inside, and you just rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out. Neither of you talked much when you were with each other, the understanding for a need of silence heavy on both of your shoulders.

When you got to the end of his (massive) driveway, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You took it out and looked at the message, from Touya.

I meant it. Go to sleep soon

Yea yea. Night, Touya

Night

You were fifteen when he was declared missing, and then dead. You were devastated. Your mother was understanding, perhaps a little too much. “I think she loved him,” you heard her say to your father. They were outside your door, because you had locked yourself inside your room in a silent vigil. For Touya.

Who knew? Maybe you did love him. All you knew was that Touya was gone. Forever. And he wasn’t coming back.

How you had ended up working for the Shigaraki Tomura, you weren’t aware. Your parents had not approved of your decision to work with “the bad guys” as they had so maturely put it, but you were an adult. You could make your own decisions. And you were their child. They weren’t going to throw you under the bus.

You still called with them every week. You knew your mother would get worried if you didn’t.

You had, in the end, gotten a quirk. Bodily Control, it did exactly what it sounded like. You could control what happened to people, sensed their very breath. Stopped or slowed heartbeats. You could break ribs, paralyze people… you could kill. You had killed, in fact, but it had taken so much out of you that you had refused to work for the next week. You could barely get out of bed without toppling over. Toga took care of you for that week, and by Thursday the fat on your hips had returned, and you could no longer count your ribs. You recovered quickly, but while you were down, you were down and out.

Shigaraki was pretty pissed about that. But what could you do?

Mr. Compress was more understanding about it. You seemed to become Toga’s favorite after that incident, claiming excitedly that you “don’t have to stab the baddies to get them to bleed!” You had just smiled weakly at that and hoped she didn’t stab you.

And Dabi. The only thing Dabi had said when you shuffled into the lounge that Thursday evening was “if you can walk you can fight. Or at least go get some more Jack Daniels.” He held up the empty bottle, waggling his eyebrows lazily.

You had just rolled your eyes, but you grabbed the bottle anyway and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, already breaking the seal. You just nodded and left to go lay down again. By Sunday you’d be fine. Your hair would stop falling out by Sunday, and it wouldn’t feel like you were laying on crushed glass, either.

And by Monday, you were ready to go again. Maybe not on another killing spree (it took your body about a month to heal fully, but a week was good enough if you took it way easy). So life continued on.

But you weren’t stupid, as much as Dabi insisted you were. You saw the boxes of dye and bleach in the trash, the way his breath hitched whenever someone mentioned the name Todoroki, or how his body almost shut down when Shigaraki offhandedly mentioned “Father.” How he absolutely refused to call you by your name, the way he seemed to take a sip of whatever he was drinking when the both of you made eye contact. The way he subconsciously leaned towards you, just slightly when you were talking. The way his eyes would follow you for two strides, the flicker away like he was caught, even if you never said anything.

And so it was that you found yourself, somehow, walking up to the roof of the building you all had occupied, a blanket around your shoulders and a bowl of black ink in hand. You saw Dabi on the edge of the roof, leaning back and watching the traffic, the stars, nothing and everything.

“It’s a little cold to be out here in nothing but a tee-shirt,” you say quietly, draping an end of the blanket over his shoulders.

“I am my own heater, dollface.” But he didn’t move away from the blanket.

You held up the bowl of ink. Despite him avoiding you pretty regularly, this was something he let you do often enough. He shrugged the blanket off and pulled his thin white shirt over his head, discarding it next to him. You dipped a brush in the ink and hesitated over his back before deciding on a simple vine pattern. It was nothing like him and didn’t mean anything, but it was easy with the one brush you had. It started at the top of his spine, the vertebrae sticking out making it harder to paint properly, but it worked. It widened quickly, then tightened back up at the base of his spine. You added the leaves and a few thorns and finished the bottom with two ivy leaves facing each other. Then, using your quirk, you sank it into his skin, a tattoo for as long as he wanted it.

“Turn around. I have one more I want to do.”

Dabi looked at you oddly, but he complied, closing his eyes. You painted a capital “T” just over his heart, but didn’t let it sink in. The ink ran down his skin, and he shivered at the feeling.

“Why didn’t you sink it in?” he asked quietly, never opening his eyes.

“Do you really want to let him die completely?” You countered, just as quietly, watching his face for a reaction. You weren’t using your quirk, but if you had been, you were sure you’d hear his heartbeat elevate with that one question.

“I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about,” Dabi snarled, pushing your hand away.

“I’m not stupid, Touya.” You looked at him, eyes flickering from the T on his chest to his angry blue eyes.

“Don’t call me that. You have no right to go around saying that name.”

“Right. Sorry.”

You both sat in silence for a few more minutes before you picked the blanket back up off the roof and slung it around his shoulders again. He didn’t shrug it off this time, either. You both went back to looking at everything and nothing, the both of you unwilling to look at each other.

Finally looking up at Dabi, you decided to take a risk and lay your head on his shoulder. When your still-sensitive skin hit the cold staples of his shoulder, you both hissed in pain. But neither of you moved away. Dabi was right: he was warm, but he was almost as malnourished as you were. His shoulder was sharp and dug into your cheek, but the pain was worth the comforting heat his body radiated.

“I wish…” you started, not sure if you should finish. When you felt Dabi’s gaze on your face, you continued. For his sake. “I wish someone had gotten to you before all of this.”

“All of what?” He sounded hurt.

“Your death. Your want for revenge. I wish someone had saved you before then.”

“Someone was close,” he said, laying his head on yours. “They were nice to me, no matter what my attitude was, but they didn’t take my bullshit. I think in another life we could have been happy.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were quiet for a few more minutes, and suddenly you were eleven, he was thirteen, you weren’t Heartrender and he wasn’t Dabi.

Just Y/N and Touya, sitting on the rooftop of your old apartment building with hot coco and popcorn. Maybe you two would share a kiss, maybe not. You broke yourself out of those memories; they weren’t now.

“I’m not saying you should bring him back, Dabi,” you said softly, half-hoping he wouldn’t hear you. But the noise had died down for a little, so you knew he did. “But I am saying you shouldn’t throw him away altogether. There were some good memories, right?”

He sighed, long and low and drawn out, and you knew you were right.

“Put it somewhere else,” Dabi said, not looking at you but lifting his head once more.

“Where?” You asked, using the blanket to wipe away the ink on his chest.

Dabi finally looked at you and then his eyes flickered to somewhere around his waist.

“Your hip?” You suggested, dipping the brush in the ink. Dabi nodded, and you shifted so that you could tug the tight jeans he wore down a bit. “And I thought girls wore tight jeans,” you muttered.

“Hey, you’re not the one putting them on, dollface.”

You started painting the small “T” on his prominent hipbone, and when it was done, you sank the ink into Dabi’s skin. You let his pants snap back over the tattoo, and set the bowl of ink down. Dabi grabbed your hand and pulled it up to just barely hover over his face.

His eyes were clear of anger. Vulnerable. Sweet. Free and blue and beautiful, and then they were closed and he was gripping your hand tighter, almost painfully so. Almost like he was preparing himself for something, or debating an issue with himself, before he let your hand rest fully against his scarred face.

And then he leaned forward and kissed you.

Oh. Oh.

It was surprisingly soft, just a brush of his scarred lips over yours, and you could feel his breath puff against your mouth, but then you were pulling his face closer again for another kiss.

And another, and another, and another, all as gentle and timid and light as the first.

When you both (mutually, for lack of air and dizziness) pulled away, all you managed to breathlessly say was, “so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Dabi nodded hesitantly. “If you want it to, then I’d like… this.”

“This being the – the kissing and stuff?”

“Yeah. If you,” his hand squeezed yours once more, “want to.”

“Hell yes, I want to.” You pulled Dabi in for another sweet kiss, mindful of the staples on his face, the few tears being shed, and the pain in your hand from using your quirk.

The pain was worth it.

End Notes: Thanks for reading! 💙

AO3 Link

ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK TO ANY SITE.

𝑳𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓: 𝑫𝒂𝒚 3.1

Author's Note: I'm so tired I'll edit this when I wake up. There will be a day 3 part 2. For now, please enjoy 💙

Contents: Nothing that needs a warning <3

Word Count: 2153

Summary: Entering your second year at college, only a few months after being broken up with, you weren't expecting anything special. Especially not in the romance department. But then a quiet, but friendly-enough boy on your floor catches your attention faster than you would like to admit. And oh, boy, are you in deep.

Thursday was more boring than you’d like to admit. You woke up early, despite your first class being only at 2pm, and you spent those hours mindlessly scrolling on your phone. And then you realized you didn’t know where your class was, so you scrambled to get your school’s brightspace open to find it. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you were able to find it; it was one of the rooms on the upper floor of the library. The rest of your free time was spent getting ready for said class, choosing an outfit and doing any other cosmetic needs, skincare and stuff. Music blared loudly from your phone as you got ready, hyping you up for the day as you danced around your small room. Hanami had left for her classes for the day, so you had the tiny space to yourself as Miley Cyrus and Katy Perry made you bounce on your feet and sing into your microphone (aka your lint roller). It was only mildly embarrassing behavior, and your door was locked, so you weren’t extremely concerned with anyone seeing you. 

After a few more minutes, however, you sighed and decided you couldn’t get away with putting off leaving any more. You slipped your shoes on and snatched up your backpack to head out the door, your music now playing through your earbuds. You had left earlier than you needed, because you wanted to grab a drink from the commons cafe before attending two classes, and you wouldn’t have enough time to get something between two said classes. So leaving early was the only solution. 

You didn’t want to brag, you thought to yourself as you made your way to class, but you looked pretty damn good today. Jean shorts with star patches sewn over the ass (which, while cute, were inconvenient because it meant no pockets), and a baggy green shirt, and black converse made up your outfit. Your hair was hairing to the max, and you just felt good in the way you looked, which didn’t happen often, so if you had a little more swagger in your step, sue you. Today would be good. 

You carried the sentiment with you all the way to the commons cafe, where the school had implemented an entirely unnecessary and complicated new system to ordering the food through GrubHub, for whatever reason. You sighed and ordered your drink, and the app notified you that it would be ready in… 13 minutes. “Jesus Christ,” you mumbled to yourself as you leaned against a wall. Next time you would just order before leaving your dorm. It wasn’t like there were even that many people in line ahead of you, only three according to the GrubHub app. You rolled your eyes and checked the time, anxious to be on time with the added thirteen minutes to your schedule. You would be, thankfully, and spent the rest of your time waiting just scrolling through your phone. 

How much time did you spend on your phone anyway? Probably too much, you decided, going back to the messages between yourself and Shigaraki and Toga in the group chat last night. You hadn’t even used it for its intended purpose of scheduling a study session, but you figured you could blame it on Toga - wait, no, you couldn’t. You had asked when a good time to study was in her private messages. Oh well, it gave you a chance to text Shigaraki without Toga’s prying eyes. You had seen the way she looked at your hand on his elbow yesterday, a flicker of mischief and something a little more devious sparking in her eyes. You had your suspicions that she had left you two behind on purpose, but she had only just met you, so what reason would she have to try and get the two of you alone? 

Then again, she did seem like the obsessive type, with her little comment about stabbing people. And it wasn’t like you minded, per se. Shigaraki was an attractive man, the more you thought about him. Or more accurately, he was your type. He was tall, and his arm had felt so solid and warm beneath your hand yesterday, muscles taut underneath your fingers. You swallowed down the saliva pooling in your mouth, because yeah that was enough of that train of thought. 

Your mind didn’t stray very far, however, because you remembered his eyes and how damn pretty they were. Deep-set and a bright, ruby red, they sparkled with a less-than-hidden ferocity in the shadows of his pale blue hair. It was more than a little intimidating, the intensity in his gaze and how he seemed to be able to take in any information and store it away for later, to be pored over when it’s convenient for him. All in a few seconds of eye contact. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when your phone buzzed in your hand, indicating that your order was ready and oh shit did you think about Shigaraki Tomura for a whole 13 minutes straight? That certainly wasn’t concerning, nor was it something you would let yourself think about for any longer as you grabbed your drink and made your way to class. Macroeconomics, ugh. Microeconomics had been hell last semester, but unfortunately it was a requirement for business majors, and there you were, a business major, which… Sucked to suck. 

You sighed quietly and shook off any and all thoughts about sucking and Shigaraki, and sweet Mary molasses you should not have thought about those two words together in the same sentence. What was wrong with you today? You decided it could be a problem for later, as you pushed open the door and greeted the professor, a sweet looking middle-aged woman before you sat down. This would be a long class. 

You were right, the class had been incredibly long, and incredibly boring, and you had taken to counting ceiling tiles to even stay awake. But the class was over now, thankfully, and you hopped to your feet to go to your next and last class, which was a calculus course. Fuck calculus. You pulled up your phone to double check the classroom number, knowing that the building it was in was right across from the library. 

The classroom was empty when you got there, save for-

“Shigaraki, hey!” 

The man looked up from his computer as you said his name, bright red eyes glancing at your mostly bare legs before meeting your gaze. “Hi.” 

“Are you in this calculus class too? That’d be so cool if we had two classes together.” You exclaimed, sitting at a desk next to him. He nodded and typed something out on his computer before shutting it, giving you his full attention, which you appreciated. 

“Yeah.” 

You nodded thoughtfully, wanting to keep the conversation going but unsure where to pick it back up. “It’s kinda early though, I mean, I’m 15 minutes early and you were here before me. What class did you have before this one?” 

Shigaraki said something about a computer science class, bringing one of his hands up to scratch at the base of his neck, an area of skin that was normally hidden underneath his sweater. Your eyes zeroed in on that little patch of skin, now scratched red and raw, and you had to physically blink to realize that not only had Shigaraki answered your question, he had asked you one of his own. 

“Uh, sorry I zoned out,” you admitted sheepishly. “What was that?”

“I asked what class you had.” 

Oh, right. That made sense. “Macroeconomics,” you mumbled. “It’s so boring I almost fell asleep.” 

Shigaraki’s lips curved into a sly, quiet snicker. His expression was marked by a subtle twitch at one corner, pulling your attention to the small scar that lay over the edge of his lip. A mole rested just beneath the other corner, adding a touch of asymmetry to his face that was prettier than it should have been. As he smiled , and God help you it was adorable, the wrinkles around his eyes deepened. “Falling asleep on the second day?” he mused, with a hint of mockery. “That’s no good.” 

Get a hold of yourself! You sang in your head. Where did his sudden, teasing confidence come from? 

You managed to smile sheepishly and avoided his gaze, shrugging. “Not my fault it’s a boring class.” 

Shigaraki had stopped pawing at his neck, instead tapping his fingers against his mouth and drawing your attention to it. His lips were cracked and dry, and looked to be honestly rather painful. “Can’t be that boring if you’re there.”

“W-What?” You chuckled softly, trying to figure out whether or not… was he flirting with you?

“You heard me,” he said, turning to face away from you and stare at the door. You blinked at him rapidly, and then shook your head. There was no way he was flirting. 

To distract yourself, you pulled out your phone and checked the time. 3:35pm. “Hm.”

“Hm?” Shigaraki parroted. 

“Hm, it’s five past and no one’s here yet,” you explained, pulling up the syllabus to double check you were in the right room, the right building. Yep. Room 221, Greens Hall. “Are we in the wrong room, do you think, or…?” 

Shigaraki frowned. “Could be.” 

You blinked at your phone, double and then triple checking your phone, just in case. But your eyes were not deceiving you. “Maybe everyone else is just late?” You asked hopefully. You knew it wasn’t true, there was no way no one else hadn’t trickled into class by now. 

“Let’s just,” you paused, “wait a few more minutes.” 

“Okay.” 

And so you did. Then a ‘few more minutes’ turned into ten, which turned into 15, and then 20. Not once had Shigaraki opened his computer back up. He had chosen to, instead, pull out his phone and fiddle around on it, and although you couldn’t see the screen you had to assume it was some sort of game by the way he held the device, thumbs poised over the edges of the screen. 

After 30 minutes of sitting in silence, you spoke up. “We’re definitely in the wrong room.” 

Shigaraki glanced up, briefly, and then looked back down at his phone. “How? We’re in the room that’s named on the syllabus.” 

“Iunno,” you mumbled, shrugging as you stood up and hoisting your backpack over your shoulders. “I’m gonna go back to my dorm and email the teacher from there. Wanna come with?” 

He nodded after a moment’s hesitation, sliding his stuff together and haphazardly shoving it all in his backpack. You watched, a little disturbed at the lack of organization, but didn’t comment because his backpack was already over his shoulder, and so was yours, and he was at the door quickly, holding it open for you. 

“Thanks,” you chirped, scooting past him and into the empty hallway. 

Shigaraki “mhm’d” in that soft, raspy voice of his, and soon enough his long legs were matching your stride. You both made your way out of the building in silence, trading off who opened doors for who automatically. You inhaled deeply when you got outside, the air cooler now that it was in the late afternoon, loving the feeling and the smell. 

The walk back to your dorm building was just as quiet, the both of you enjoying the sounds of other people walking or catching up with friends. Soon enough, however, you were on the little deer path that connected the academic part of campus to the living part of campus, where it was less chattery and was more welcoming to the cries of birds or squirrels barking. 

You broke that silence. “So uh, are you doing anything later?”

Shigaraki didn’t say anything for a moment. “No, don’t think so, why?” 

“Uh, well,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as awkward as you felt. “I heard that they’re playing a movie on the front lawn of Briggs, and I wanted to go but I don’t wanna go alone.” 

You saw Shigaraki nod minutely in understanding. “What movie are they playing?” 

“I’m not sure,” you muttered. “An action movie, I’m pretty sure. I didn’t see though, on the flier. It starts at eight, though. If you want to come, no pressure.” 

You were rambling, God did you ever shut up? It was like you were determined to stick your foot in your mouth or make him uncomfortable. 

“Sure, I’ll be there.” 

“Oh, okay cool!” You said, your tone brighter than you had intended. 

The rest of the walk was quiet, and you said your ‘see you later’s in the hallway just in front of the staircase. It wasn’t until you were back in your room that you realized that, not only had you asked Shigaraki to go watch a movie with you, he had agreed. Oh joy.

End Notes: Thank you for reading <3!

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