BasketballBakugou x ShyReader
(All photos from Pinterest
You’d already finished your (not burnt) hotdog by the time everyone else crawled back into the previously peaceful campsite. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that staying back was the better decision either. One by one, as everyone crawled toward the crackling fire, their bodies seemed to cave and crumble. Denki had even let himself fall face first on the dirt below your very clean hiking boots.
“Have fun?” You ask smugly, giving his limp shoulder a small nudge. His head lols to the side, grimace deepening as he groans in response. “Aren’t you supposed to be athletic?”
“Damn idiots raced to the top.” Your ears perk at the sound of the voice settling on the long bench beside you, but your attention stays on your actively deflating cousin on the ground. “Had to listen to ‘em bitch the whole way down.”
You simply nod, nudging Denki once more, earning yet another groan before finally turning to Bakugou. He seemed unphased from the hike, unlike his friends that slowly pull themselves to surround the fire. His shoulders seemed tight, but otherwise unaffected, it didn’t even look like he’d broken a sweat. His blonde hair still perfectly spiked, his angry eyes still burning as they meet yours- and that stupid cocky grin unfortunately perfectly in tact.
“Bet you’d have given up halfway.” He smirks, laying an arm across the back of the bench. Your shoulder tense, but you remind yourself not to look away as he continues. “Woulda been limp like these dumbasses too.”
Something about the leveled calmness in his voice made your spine tingle, like he’d calculated what he’d say just so he could taunt your lack of athleticism and attempt to get a rise out of you. You knew better though, you knew he wouldn’t go out of his way to taunt you. No, he was just effortlessly competitive- even if he was trying to win something you weren’t even participating in.
“You’re right.” You shrug, turning to look at the others who all pass around the plate of cooked hotdogs. “Which is why I don’t play games I have no chance of winning. Hiking isn’t fun, beneficial or rewarding to me. So, you’re entirely correct- I wouldn’t make it half way because I’d never start in the first place.”
You’re overly explained counter doesn’t fall on deaf ears like you expected, instead he lets out a ‘Tch’ and bites into a sandwich you don’t remember seeing when you’d gone looking for something to make for everyone. You steal a quick glance in his direction, his eyes still on yours as he chews. Where the hell did he get a sandwhich?
“Like I’d eat that garbage.” He grumbles as if he’d read your mind and found your curiosity absurd. “I knew you idiots would bring shitty food so I brought my own.”
“Guys! Let’s play truth or dare!” Ochaco shouts, earning a few perked ears and murmurs of agreement.
You were both thankful and annoyed at her exclamation. Thankful because you didn’t have to ask Bakugou if he’d read your mind, and annoyed because you hated stupid party games.
You let out a sigh, not understanding why people enjoy things that are just set ups for awkwardness and embarrassment. Even in high school, everyone seemed to enjoy the stupid games while you would rather peel your own skin off piece by piece than participate. It wasn’t your anxiety that prevented you from participating, no. It was your death grip on your common sense. You wouldn’t play even if-
“Let me guess.” Bakugou scoffs. “Not playing a game you have no chance of winning?”
The world around you stills momentarily as the bitter recount of your words leave his lips. He seemed almost annoyed, knowing you’d likely decide not to join in. His jaw was tight and his eyes were narrowed at the still roaring flames that hid the heat on your cheeks. He was calling you out- and you hated it. Hated it just enough to loosen that grip on your common sense temporarily.
“Does it count if it’s a game no one’s winning?” His eyes move from the flames and widen ever so slightly as you muster enough courage to continue. “Because I’m playing.”
Thirty painfully slow minutes pass, filled with stupid dares and not so dirty secrets being spilled amongst the still exhausted but suddenly excited group. Jiro had been dared to switch clothes with Denki, Kirishima had admitted to breaking up with his ex over text and Bakugou was dared to eat an uncooked hotdog. All of which was nothing to write home about.
But the universe and its boredom seemed to catch up to you as Denkis turn rolls around and his eyes find you from across the campfire.
“Baby cousin.” His singing was like nails on a chalkboard. If you could reach him from the seat you hadn’t moved from, you’d wipe that crooked smirk right off his stupid face. “Truth or dare?”
You answer, your heart beat thrumming in your throat. ‘Boo’s and ‘Lame’s echo around you but you keep your eyes on Denki until his question fills the now empty air.
“What really happened the night of that graduation party?”
Everyone seemed to fall silent, and you could feel the angry heat radiating from the man who still sat beside you. In a panic you look to Ochaco, noticing her nervously rubbing at her neck, completely aware of the answer and why you couldn’t tell anyone.
“And if I refuse to answer?” You ask shakily, looking to your hands that now grip the hem of your shorts anxiously. You couldn’t answer him, and you knew you’d pay the price. “I have to do a dare then, right?”
Bakugou remains silent as Denki grins wildly. How did he even know something happened that night to even have thought to ask? It wasn’t like the other person involved was eager to talk about it, so how did Denki know and why did he seem upset for your lack of response?
“You have to jump into the lake, fully clothed.”
A few minutes later you’re storming toward the cabin, ignoring the pleas of your friend who must’ve felt guilty watching you plunge into the freezing cold water. She’s the only person who seemed to care you weren’t returning to the stupid game, everyone else cackling as your body shivers aggressively. You’d have to remember to kill Denki later, but right now you needed out of these clothes and into the warmth of the cabin.
“You’re a fucking dumbass.”
The words greet you the moment you step into the warmth of the cabins living room. Bakugou seemingly waiting for you with his arms crossed over his chest. You furrow your brows at him, but continue toward the bathroom where a nice hot shower would thaw your bones and wash the regret you felt down the drain.
“I’m talking to you.” The sharpness of his tone seemed to cut into your ears, making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up. “Why didn’t you just lie? Those idiots would’ve believed anything you told them.”
Lie? He expected you to keep his secret and lie about it? You just dove head first into secret keeping, skin chilling ice water to keep his demons in the closet and he was still scolding you like a child?
“I shouldn’t have to lie.” It was weak, but you let out your own scoff as you trudge down the wooden hallway. “You’re the one hellbent on being someone you aren’t. So why am I the one suffering because of it?”
The bathroom felt colder than the water you’d just been submerged in as you step inside with a shaky, anger filled breath. Unfortunately it could and does get colder, because Bakugou is on your heal and slamming the door shut the moment you turn to close it.
It happens so fast, you have no time to react. His hand is grabbing the wet fabric of your tshirt with a tug and your back is connecting with the oak door he’d slammed less than a second ago. Although his movements were quick and determined, he was gentle as he cornered you against your only escape route.
It made your heart race as anxiety scorches through your nervous system, heating every inch of your body before he can even register your trembling frame below him.
“Stop assuming you keeping your sophisticated opinions to yourself means anything.” You can’t help but shrink further into the door as his voice lowers. “I’m exactly who I’ve always been. One moment of panic doesn’t mean I’m putting on a damn mask for anyone else. I’m living my damn life for me, got it?”
“Got it.” It was pathetic how hard your voice trembled as his finger finds your chin. You swallow a gulp as his finger tilts it just enough for you to look at him. There was no mistaking the hatred fueling the fire in his eyes, he was pissed and wanted to be damned sure you knew it. “I-I got it. Okay? Back off.”
Something changes. His demeanor shifts entirely as your palm reaches to flatten against his chest and push him just enough for you to breathe. If you so much as blinked, you’d miss the quick release of the anger in his eyes and the way he seemed to recoil mentally as you stand straighter. Was he.. questioning himself?
“Don’t do that shit again.” The silence breaks, his head shaking slightly as if to collect himself. “When you get pneumonia the only person to blame for your suffering will be yourself.”
He huffs one more time before reaching around you and opening the door, making a quick exit as you stand there in complete and utter shock.
After a few minutes of intense breathing techniques, you strip and step into the shower. Your mind goes over the interaction as if it was the only memory you had, over and over . Burning the look of confusion on his face into your brain even as Ochaco drops off a change of clothes and mutters a quick apology.
Wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out of the warm embrace of the small shower and into the cold air of the bathroom once again. The stack of clothes goes unnoticed temporarily as you hang your wet clothes over the top of the shower to dry, a frown forming as the smell of the lake water brings water to your eyes. Disgusting.
When you do finally reach for the dry clothing, your heart stops. At the very bottom of the stack, neatly folded as if to blend in with the clothes you knew belonged to you, was a jacket. No, the jacket you’d only just returned to Bakugou. You knew you gave it back to him, you remembered how thoughtlessly he’d tossed it into his car, so why was it with your things again?
As your mind tries to ignore the weird feeling settling in your chest, you dress yourself slowly. Despite the mystery of the jackets surprise appearance, you slide it on, enjoying the warmth it brings as it falls to your mid thigh. It was strange to wear it after returning it, it felt the exact same but entirely new all at once.
The cabin was empty as you left the bathroom, Bakugou no longer in site as your hand slides into the jacket pocket and feels the small paper seeming to have been left inside. Curiosity gets the better of you and you pull it out, expecting a receipt of some kind. Instead your eyes scan over a note, clearly left by Bakugou and slightly less clearly left for you.
‘If anyone lost that shitty game it was me. I shoulda said thanks. Don’t keep it for months this time’
This has been in my drafts since Monday 💀 I didn’t realize I forgot to post it 😭
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