Chapter Text
“Strawberries?”
The heat of the oven warming your exposed legs is pleasantly welcomed in this breezy afternoon, obviously, you can’t deny the warmth doesn’t make you feel all giddy and elated, the thought alone of the chiffon cake cooking up in the oven blessing your taste buds in a few hours is downright euphoric.
The campfire tonight is to celebrate the final day at camp as second years.
Sato got put on dessert duty earlier this morning and the class discussion (of mainly girls) ended up leading to you pulling the short straw into your new found role as assistant baker.
They reacted very positively to your strawberry and powdered flour crepes suggestion.
And before you knew it, a long list of requested pastries for two whole classes was shoved in your palm within seconds- seemingly unable to control your fate, you looked at Sato (your new assigned partner for the day) who stood off to the side, for help, to which he just shrugged, giving you a thumbs up for encouragement.
Since you’re a big group, the list is delightfully long, but you find you don’t mind as much when some of your own favourite deserts look like gold lettering in that blue ballpoint ink.
No complaints here!
“Please; two more, I’m almost done here- could you slice ‘em up while you’re at it?”
“Okay.” Plucking two more from the plastic container, you begin meticulously cutting squares with a dull knife- internally weeping at the sight of uneven and wonky blocks once you bring them up to face view.
Once done with the inspection, you grimace at the fuggly shapes made by your very hands, hopefully he doesn’t mind, the ugly shapes are downright disgraceful to look at.
Truly an ugly sight.
Thankfully, he isn’t very picky and gratefully takes the messed up ones first to make his point, lightening your crest fallen glare with a humorous joke about them looking like rough rectangles, which despite the bite, makes you feel a tinge better.
You hear him clasp his hands together while you rummage through the bag of ingredients Aizawa ordered,
“Done?” you call out.
Yeah! he hisses through his teeth upon opening the oven door.
Hot, hot, hot! Is all your hear.
“Mittens?” you reach above the counter for the baby blue kitty mittens provided by Yaoyorozu, quickly shoving them into his hands before the cake inside burns.
Now if you aren’t a great assistant baker, then you’re not sure what you are?
“Thanks, L/n. You’re a real life saver.”
Shrugging, you take the tray he passes over carefully, “It was just mittens.” You put away the cake mold holding the entire chocolate sponge together and dispense it into a heat insulating container for pastries (also provided by Yaoyorozu).
“What’s next?” He asks, peeking over your shoulder at the list.
“Well, we finished the chiffon, chocolate cookies are good, we just need strawberry cheesecakes, the strawberry crepes, strawberry jelly rolls, normal jelly rolls and swiss rolls.”
Strawberries, strawberries, strawberries.
You both stare at the list in silence. Ironically, your strawberry glossy nail charm in bright display for both your eyes.
“...Remind me who made this list?”
Busted.
“...Not me.”
“Uh-huh. Okay, we still have a few hours to go, so let’s hope this mystery strawberry requester finds these desserts are up to their standards.” He laughs.
I’m sure they will.
“Hey guys!” The voice of a bouncy Ochako pops out from around the entrance of the kitchen, chestnut hair organised into a cute braided bun, it’s a very flattering and cute hairstyle on her, you’ll make sure to ask her for the inspo pic she used so you can add it to your board later today if she doesn’t mind.
“Mind if I join?”
“Of course.” you smile, scooting over to make space for her.
Is it embarrassing that you really want her company? She’s one of the nicer girls, you can’t help but feel it’s nice having her around the rare times she’s not stuck onto tsuyu.
The head baker watches the ordeal from a distance away, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the facade.
“You aren’t allowed to call early dibs, Uraraka.” Huh? Is that what she wanted?
“Awww!” Her secret is revealed, “No fair, I was hoping to get here before Denki!”
Ah! She’s so darn cute.
Her blushed cheeks poof up until you point out she reminds you of kirby, wait, was that too friendly to point out?
She laughed really hard though, so you don’t feel you overstepped.
The head baker tuts at her but beckons her to stay if she wishes after she explains the bet some people made when dessert frenzy afternoon was announced. That’s actually really funny, didn’t know they were that close.
Falling victim to her loss, she happily agrees and opts to squeeze herself in beside you further, shoulders pressing together softly and you feel a strong sense of sisterhood with her next to you.
You’re kind of dazed that you don’t shy away from the contact.
You would soak in the moment if it went for a strong gaze overseeing your performance over the table- she eyes your craft curiously, watching as you swirl the white frosting around the fluffy crumb of the toasty and freshly baked sponge.
“You’re really good, L/n. Is baking a hobby of yours?”
You confirm, yes, “picked it up after junior high ended, it kind of became…uh well you know a hobby.”
Duh, she just asked if it was a hobby. Something catches your eye though and you end uphanding over the piping bag you used into her open palm before Sato sees, watching her whole face lift into a toothy grin made you understand her pleading but silent request, she must have a crazy sweet tooth, “Something like that. I like the sugar rush.”
You both stare at the list in silence. Ironically, your strawberry glossy nail charm in bright display for both your eyes.
“...Remind me who made this list?”
Busted.
“...Not me.”
“Uh-huh. Okay, we still have a few hours to go, so let’s hope this mystery strawberry requester finds these desserts are up to their standards.” He laughs.
I’m sure they will.
“Hey guys!” The voice of a bouncy Ochako pops out from around the entrance of the kitchen, chestnut hair organised into a cute braided bun, it’s a very flattering and cute hairstyle on her, you’ll make sure to ask her for the inspo pic she used so you can add it to your board later today if she doesn’t mind.
“Mind if I join?”
“Of course.” you smile, scotching over to make space for her. Is it embarrassing that you really want her company next to you? She’s one of the nicer girls, you can’t help but feel it’s nice having her around the rare times she’s not stuck onto tsuyu.
The head baker watches the ordeal from a distance away, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the facade.
“You aren’t allowed to call early dibs, Uraraka.” Huh? Is that what she wanted?
“Awww!” Her secret is revealed, “No fair, I was hoping to get here before Denki!”
Ah! She’s so darn cute.
Her blushed cheeks poof up until you point out she reminds you of kirby, wait, was that too friendly to point out?
She laughed really hard though, so you don’t feel you overstepped.
The head baker tuts at her but beckons her to stay if she wishes after she explains the bet some people made when dessert frenzy afternoon was announced. That’s actually really funny, didn’t know they were that close.
Falling victim to her loss, she happily agrees and opts to squeeze herself in beside you further, shoulders pressing together softly and you feel a strong sense of sisterhood with her next to you.
You’re kind of dazed that you don’t shy away from the contact.
You would soak in the moment if it went for a strong gaze overseeing your performance over the table- she eyes your craft curiously, watching as you swirl the white frosting around the fluffy crumb of the toasty and freshly baked sponge.
“You’re really good, L/n. Is baking a hobby of yours?”
You confirm, yes, “picked it up after junior high ended, it kind of became…uh well you know a hobby.”
Duh, she just asked if it was a hobby.
”I love sweets,” she emphasises.
”What’s your favourite?” you enquire, running your sweaty hands over your apron, damn, this conversation went on longer than you thought.
Time to wash your hands.
When you come back, she tells you about her grandmas cheesecake recipe she adored as a child, it’s so endearing you listen closely.
Something catches your eye though, as you’re working you find her eyes constantly worming and shifting between your hands and her own, maybe she wants to help too?
”Pstt.” When you turn at the sound, you’re surprised to find her palms open, shyly asking for the very thing between your fingers. Seconds later you’re left with empty hands after surrendering over the piping bag you used before Sato sees, it’s not that he would be mad, but it was fun to have a secret to share with her, plus it had the perk of watching her whole face light up.
She was eyeing the piping bag succumb to its creamy end and her pleading eyes made you understand her desperate but silent request, she must have a crazy sweet tooth.
”Do you bake a lot?”
“Something like that. I like the sugar rush.”
“Oooo, sugar rush! Who knew someone like you would have a sweet tooth.” she giggles airly, scraping a tea spoon across the cut open piping bag, licking the paste that accumulates on the metal,
What’s that meant to mean
If by someone like you she means you because you’ve been told you don’t look friendly, or you out of all people don’t look like you enjoy over saturated sugar concoctions, then she’s severely mistaken.
What do you even appear like to these people, you aren’t a monster!! The grip on your napkin tightens, a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach.
“Uh- Uraraka, don’t you think you worded that a bit…I don’t know- harshly?” You internally thank Sato from butting in from across the kitchen, it's almost as if you can hear the gears crushing into place when she snaps her head back to you and begins apologising profusely with a flushed face upon realising her mistake. You wave her off with a small, it's fine.
Sucks that it took someone else calling it out for it to stop, though.
“Right. I need to take these boxes back to the storage room, is it okay if I leave you two in here for a second?”
“I can help.” you suggest, finishing wiping your hand with a towel, “I could use the lifting; should I take them?”
“Oh wow, thanks so much, that would be great! Uraraka, could you start mixing up the stuff on that bowl over there?”
“Yes boss! What’s in there?”
“Once mixed up, they’ll be swiss rolls.” It's funny watching her ears perk up at the sound of swiss rolls.
“I call dibs!”
“You can’t call dibs yet!!”
Maybe, just maybe you shouldn’t have suggested taking these boxes afterall, the weight of them is no joke!
No wonder Sato was the one tasked with bringing them back in, they’re at least a ton each in your arms.
Uraraka used excellent hand demonstrations to teach you each turn you must take so you don’t get lost with boxes up to your eyes, which do work at not getting you lost, until you do actually get lost.
Setting two of them down, you look around the second floor, should you leave these here and come back? No- somebody could find them and run off with them. Trust only goes so far.
Should you just suck it up and walk around until you find the room?
You walk up to the window in thought, you’d hate to ask for help from a random stranger you find also wandering around. But, what other option do you have?
Realistically, you could quickly retrace your steps and go back to where you started then ask for help which you already rejected from Sato or Uraraka, but that would be downright embarrassing and shameful.
Maybe you should-
“Oi!”
…
You know that voice, “The hell you doin’ all the way out here, you lost or somethin’?”
No way.
“Bakugou!”
“Hah?”
Gathering all of your bearings,you do a little run up to him, smiling through glossed lips at this familiar face “Where are you headed?”
He cocks his head at you, suspiciously doing a one over, “Storage. We need some lights so sparky can light ‘em.”
“Sparky- As in Kaminari?”
“That one.” He looks you up and down after a second, piercing eyes judging you quietly and suddenly you feel very self aware of how you must look right now.
“Wanna tell me why you’re covered in flour? wannabe fatgum sneeze on you, or sum’m?”
Oh that’s right, Bakugou wasn’t there during role assignment, guess he’s a busy bee.
“No? I’m a helper.” You fluff your apron for emphasis, ”I’ve baked at least three cupboards of cakes by now, isn’t that great?”
“Just happy to be a diabetes factory, aren’t you?” He watches you pout at his response, “whatever, those better be good.” he accuses.
“You’re just hating for the sake of hating, you know you’ll gobble up anything I make.”
“Wouldn’t raise my nose so high if I were you, hard person to please here.”
“That’s what they all say!”
“Plus, you're a shit cook, pipsqueak.” He doesn’t even bother moving back when you start fumbling, I try my best.
“Oi.” He breaks you out of your rambling, “Those boxes, they yours?”
Your eyes follow his finger behind you to the four cardboard sealed squares he saw you haul over- he raises an eyebrow when you start panicking, as if you remembered something.
“Yes!” Bingo! “Could you lead me to the storage room quickly? I need to put these down and get back to helping Sato, he probably needs my help.”
He thinks for two seconds.
“A’ight, gimme some.” He nods, brushing past you.
Wait- No!
It’s downright embarrassing how you shove yourself in his way by force, shouldering him to the side, spreading your flour-covered arms out to form a makeshift barrier; “I can’t make you do that, sorry, I wanna do it.”
He blinks, processing what the actual hell you just said, after a second, he squints at you then at the boxes that definitely aren’t light, then back at you with a disturbed expression. “Don’t be stubborn. I’m man enough to carry all.”
Is he forreal putting his pride on the line for some boxes?
“No.” shaking your head in stern refusal, you shoo him back with your hands. “I’m super, get back.”
“Fuck it, we can do two each then.”
“N.O. I’ll take three, you take one.” The fuck is this, some kind off transaction? They’re just boxes for christ sake.
His already mean glare gets even meaner at the flat down rejection of his help, ruby eyes flicking back and forth in genuine disbelief.
It’s already dumb enough you’re literally refusing assistance, all so what, you can feel better about yourself? “Goddamit, what’s your problem!- I’m strong enough to hold all four of those boxes and you, to boot.”
“Ew!”
Ew?! “Fuck you mean EW?”
What a stubborn stubborn guy.
“Bakugou. Just take that one.”
Airing his ear piercing yelling, you walk over and pick up the lightest one, shaking it to taste the weight then dropping it at his feet while you load your arms with the other three, if you could carry four, then you can carry three.
“I told you, I could carry double this shit, gimme them all!”
“Can’t hear you!”
“You’re going the wrong way, stupid!”
Wow! Weight lifting is a lot of work, how do people do this stuff for a living?
“Thanks for helping me Bakugou! Sometimes I wish I was Uraraka so I could carry all this heavy stuff.” you drop the last one with a loud hmph!, a goofy grin plastered over your sweat-dewy face.
Running your fingers over the harsh material of the brown and red bowed apron draped over your body, you dust off some of the residue flour he kindly pointed out and some grey particles that fell from the unused ceiling of the storage room.
“Never lettin’ you carry anything ever again.” he mumbles under his breath, facing away from you, is he serious right now?
He can’t be that butthurt.
“I promise it's fine!”
To him, it was the gentlemanly thing to do, how could he let himself get coerced into letting you carry most of those heavy ass boxes? When did he become such a wimp? And what happened to courting you!!!
Jesus, Izuku is going to kill him, if he could.
That reminds him.
”Oi.” he nudges your side, eliciting a jolt, “What did you mean ew.”
”Next question.”
”Wha-“ You know what, whatever.
He shrugs off the pride-ache with a hushed Tch, ushering you out of the storage room the way you came and closing up loudly behind him.
It’s pretty damn impressive he can smell the sweetness of cakes and cookies from all the way over here, the honey sweet stickiness and nostalgic smell of bread slowly consuming the whole building, exactly how much did those pests commission you guys to make for it to be this much?
“How much shit are you baking exactly, stinks all the way here.”
He’s never been one for sweets, you can tell by how he covers his nose to emphasise his question. Damn him and his language!
“Calling my baking shit is gonna get me you some laxative cupcakes, so be nice.” You pout and turn away, now you’re the butthurt one, “and for the record, it’s quite a bit but you’re getting none for being a jerk!”
“You know that’s not what I-” Ok whatever, it’s not like he wanted any in the first place, dammit, but he still argues nonetheless ‘cause he wouldn’t have minded trying some.
“Stop pulling favourites out of a hat, you hogger.”
Hogger?!
“Did you just call me a hogger?!”
“The hell I didn’t!”
“I’m not gonna eat them all by myself!”
The thump of your sneaker on the ground cracks him up instantly, from here it’s hell of a lot easier to compare you to one of those stomps the rodent at the dorm does when someone puts a piece of lettuce too far away for its small, fat body to reach.
Bunny thumps, or whatever they’re called.
“You aren’t invited to my crazy sick tea party then.” You simply state, crossing your arms and biting back a laugh when his nose wrinkles into a disgusted scowl.
He stares at you for a minute.
“You did not just call a class bonfire, a tea party.”
“Whats so different about the two?” Genuinely. “Tea parties have tea and biscuits and sometimes a fireplace, like in fairytales for example; while bonfires sometimes have tea and sweet cookies but always a fire place.”
“Still two separate things!”
“Tah! Potato potato.”
“Whatever.” He frowns, eyeing your outfit over again without meaning to, no way you aren’t gonna get cold in that, “it’s gonna be cold outside tonight, warm up.”
You’re quite surprised he caught onto the slight shiver of your legs now that temperatures are dropping here on the outskirts, no matter the warmth or the time of year, nights do get chillier regardless.
Nodding in acknowledgment, you deposit your arms by your sides, wandering back off in the direction he points you to.
“See ya.”
He grunts and stomps away in the opposite direction, not many words were exchanged, and he respects that. You aren’t a talker no more, so what.
Still, it’s a challenge not looking back despite desperately needing to make sure you went the right way.
“Holy crap, are you guys done?! Smells awesome, yo!”
Kaminari. He wandered into the kitchen along with an eerily quiet Tokoyami, observing the fresh, toasty batch of cookies by the fridge with a predatory-like eye.
Little you however, is on cookie watch since Sato ran off in search of plastic wrap in preparation to haul all of the desserts outside.
And you take your job very seriously.
“Sorry, no dibs.”
“Awh man!” Gotcha.
“Say L/n, did you bake these with me in mind? I freaking love Swiss rolls.”
You did not.
So that suggestion was his, shrugging off the feeling of watchful eyes from across the room, you wipe your hands and shake your head, “You suggested these?”
“Nah. He did.”
Kaminari's face changes into a serious one, and when he points behind you, or better yet, on top of you.
“Sorry L/n.” Tokoyami sighs next to him, shaking his head disapprovingly, a swoosh of air almost knocking you off balance.
“Mineeeee.” A voice rumbles from above, cookie lust absorbing every corner of his shadowy being, dark shadow!
“No!” You make a lunge for your tray just as he snatches a gulp of them into his small beak, it’s jarring watching him hold the rest in his mouth, safely returning to his owner with a roar.
You swear you can see cartoonish 2D sparkles float around its head, flashing and bouncing while he takes large bites on the cookies you made. Bad bird!
What on earth just happened? Did you just get ambushed?????
“I’m sorry L/N, he heard no dibs and wouldn’t shut up until I brung him here.”
What the fuck?! Bakugou would’ve slammed their faces into concrete if they did that to him.
But then again, you aren’t Bakugou.
You bite back a harsh reprimand, swallowing your tongue in favour of Sato, who ordered you to just be cool if anyone comes in, you didn’t get specific instructions on what to do if they brought an oversize bird into the picture though.
Sighing into your palms, you rub your neck awkwardly and force a twitch into a smile, “we’ll be out in a sec, could you keep dark shadow in check until we can bring the stuff out?”
“Yeah. Sorry about the trouble, seriously.”
It really isn’t fine, but they’re just cookies after all, and there’s plenty more for everyone to eat.
And, that pink floral tray of extra fresh, doughy chocolate chip cookies with a hint of spicy cinnamon tucked away under your home brought rag is in no way shape or form in danger.
It’s funny really, you laughed in Bakugou’s face when he said he didn’t want any of the stuff you baked.
Once they leave, you return to cleaning up the space awaiting Sato’s return, something stirs in your chest, the thought of what extra heart and soul you put into that dumb tray of sweets.
You made the prettiest ones stay on your plate, the imperfect ones got dashed into the ones for the class, they’ll make better use for them after all.
Bakugou- will he like them? Or is this too much?
You hadn’t thought of that, friends don’t make each other cookies! Do they? You’re sure they do, quickly, you pull out your phone, desperately trying to find guidance on social media.
Baking friend extra cookies|
Is it normal to bake your friend more cookies than other people|
WHY DID I BAKE MORE COOKIES|
Is it obvious|
Hwo to diw down from embarassment|
how to calm down|
Phew!
It’s normal, haha, of course, a Reddit forum told you so, and that’s DEFINITELY a reliable source.
Anyway, shortly after your existential crisis has seized, Sato walks back in with Uraraka and a new member, elected tea coach, Momo, finally!
This means everyone must be ready to haul this back outside.
“Thanks for holding up L/n, heard Tokoyami and Kaminari were here and snatched some up,” he lifts the cover of the assaulted batch, laughing and letting it drop, “don’t sweat it,” see???? You didn’t sweat it and it got you good cred!
Self control is killer, “Alright, table should be set up and everyone’s there already.”
He strictly gives out instructions for tray orders, two for each person and since you’re four, eight trays start appearing from behind the metal doors of the back, howling from the hungry spectators has you erecting your back a little harder, suddenly conscious of your posture.
They actually did a cute job outside, dainty glimmering fairy lightbulbs hung over the railing connected to the house, they probably ran out of glue, running thin swirls and zigzags under the rim of a pastel yellow tent holding two rows of plastic tables together. A large set up for teas and drink shimmied off to the side, for sure Yaoyoruzus station, and the prettiest fire lit in the middle of the open grass.
The logs crinkle and creak under the flame, there’s a warm cozy glow to this little get together, and you find yourself excited to chill out after a week of hard work.
Around it, people sitting rise to their feet and grab a plate.
Wandering off to the side, you get pictures taken for the school vlog, a promise made to blur your face out, you know you’ll cringe looking at it anyway.
Giving it a few minutes- for courteous purposes, you greet some people who crack cheesy jokes about how floury you look.
Oops, must’ve gotten messier when you started cleaning up.
Not gonna lie, that was clever! Floury and flowery, you give them a tight smile and tell them to help themselves.
Where is he?
You bite back an actual smile when you see the person you were excited to see, tucked away by himself to the far end of the fire, looking up at the skies with nothing but a phone in his hand.
He changed by the looks of it, the shorts of this afternoon replaced by grey soft looking sweatpants and a black zip up over the graphic tee he was already wearing before.
He looks good, cozy, golden in this light.
Taking a quick glance at the distracted people, you fluff your shirt and skip over to him, tapping his shoulder lightly and giggling when he looks back with a mad face.
Suddenly frowning when he wasn’t a second ago.
For a fraction of a second, you swear his creased eyebrows faltered, “hi.” You greet, standing over him with nervous, fidgety hands.
“You didn’t warm up, stupid.”
Oh, that’s right, he told you it would get colder. “Oh, yeah, forgot. We got stuff messed up and I had no time.”
“Idiot.”
“Are you not gonna get any?” He shakes his head just as you crouch and stand by his side, wearily looking at a spot next to him, “Can I sit?”
“There’s spiders on the floor- and ants and bugs.”
On second thought, no.
He snorts, but nonetheless doesn’t deny your request.
Perking up, you whisper something about a surprise, getting all giddy and secretive when you sneak off back into the kitchen through the back door, he watches you go with a questioning look.
What are you planning.
He can’t lie, the shit Sato makes always smells good, and he can hear his friends gobbling up everything they can find in their path like goblins.
But, his tongue is so sharp and strict he refuses to break the claim he made to you to not indulge, he knows you aren’t offended, or at least you don’t look it.
But then again, he’s not good at reading people.
Who knows what you could be thinking right now.
Maybe you’re secretly all sulky and pouty that he won’t try anything that the rest of them are eating, something that you made.
You don’t show you care though, your poker face is for sure something.
That cold look you always got going really fucking sets him off, the lazy sparkle in your eyes when you’re tired after he bashes your head in during joint training, head all fuzzy and clingy in a non-physical way, the drizzle of sparkly lipgloss you jut your lips out to glaze on when you think no one notices.
Hell, everyone does, his stupid, spineless friends gush mindlessly around him about how you look like a literal doll whenever you bat your big eyes a little too fast at one of the girls, or your ‘sexy resting bitch face’ lowkey makes everyone think you hate them.
Next to him, the spot you’re soon to claim feels awfully empty, missing a sweet, strawberry and honey smelling fairy, missing the warmth from your soft, plushy arms brushing up accidentally against his.
His mind spirals every time your fingers touch by accident, you babble and stumble on your words whenever that happens and it pisses him off ‘cause you make touching him seem so bad.
He’s not a disease!
Once you come back, you’re dropping something hard and warm on his lap. Well- not dropping, you lean over and watch him do a very Bakugou- like flinch- literally, his eyes widen just barely and he hmphs with a gruff cough,
he seemed surprised, what was he thinking before you came?
The sudden consuming warmth of a freshly heated cookie tray swallows up his legs in seconds, but it's really nothing to be scared of. “Wha-“
“Pstt.” You whisper, even though he already knows you’re there so there was no surprise attack element, holding a finger to his lips, just barely about to graze the skin, a secret, “Kept some for myself.”
You giggle and he looks down to see half of a fat, doughy brown round cookie peeking out from under the floral rag, warm and toasty to the touch. Did you just finish making these?
“What, you too good to share with the extras?” Raising an eyebrow, he stands to let you drape a blanket across the grassy floor, patting it down with your hands to flatten the surface
“No!” Jeez, is that what he got from this?
Snorting, he picks up the tray by the two pink handles, running his thumb across the rim to feel the warmth, “Sure seems like it.”
His laugh is harsh when you pout and tug on his sleeve.
“Sit! And don’t call them that.”
“Hah? stop whinin’. You gonna give some to Deku?” Why's he making it so difficult to just accept it?!
Nervously, you twirl your fingers, batting your eyes at the floor quietly in thought.
Well, he wouldn’t mind, would he? Worst he could do is yell at you, “Could we keep these for ourselves?”
You don’t intentionally try and sound so timid about it, like it’s some childish secret you’re too ashamed to ask your parents.
He stifles a smirk, shaking his head to brush away the itch to curve his lips.
“Seriously?” The tint in your cheeks harshens, “Pretty selfish, f’you ask me.”
Gah! Now he knows what he’s doing, he breathes out heavily when you stuff one of the treats into your mouth and chew loudly.
Now that’s got you thinking, you weren’t intentionally hiding this batch because you didn’t want to give them the best ones
“Is it really selfish?”
He isn’t looking at you, but he replies anyway, “Yeah.”
Oh. You guess it is.
Why’d you have to go and get all rained down on when he cracks some jokes, seriously, now he feels bad.
God, you really are that awful, God forbid you wanted to keep some for yourself.
“Nothin’ wrong with being a lil’ selfish though.” Crossing his arms, he raises his voice at the sound of a sniffle,” You need to start actin’ more selfish, if you ask me!”
Of course it’s easy for him to say! “Yeah well, you’re pretty selfish and no one says a word!”
“Exactly!” Exactly, they never say anything when it’s a selfish act. You guess, perspectives really are different out here.
“What would they think though?”
“Don’t giv’a fuck what they think! They’re just extras, do this shit for you, and stop crying all over my plate- you’re gettin’ your sleeve soaked.”
“Sorry.” You fumble to wipe any stray tears away, damn, you just went and balled over some shit like this in front of someone who hardly cries.
“How much aura did I just lose?”
A lot, he thinks. There’s mascara coating your fleece and your nose is all red and stuffy from the sudden emotions that just consumed you. The watery red gloss across your lips is still there though.
He wonders what flavour it is. Girls have different flavoured glosses, don’t they?
You’re too sensitive for your own good.
The question makes him pause, giving you a disgusted look after a moment. It’s so ugly on him that it makes you laugh. His ears perk up at the sound.
“Stop deflectin’, just eat goddamit.”
“We’re going back tomorrow morning.” You state, duh.
“Guess so.”
That’s definitely something you’re looking forward to, you have quite a few things planned, maybe this year will actually go as well as you hoped, “Did you like it?”
“Like what.”
You look back at everyone huddled around the fire in small groups talking over styrofoam tea cups, looking back at him just as he takes another cookie from the tray, so he did like them.
“This. Camp, the people, the events, the games- you know.”
He shrugs, exhaling loudly, he lets his body drop back onto his elbows, on the grass mauling over your question- the food was good, a little salty ‘cause of those bunch of idiots adding too much salt into the curry, he went rabid on them- then the games, he got a kick out of being pressed up against you when you got scared, but he’ll never tell you that.
He can look over the training part since he did most of it on his own and he never slacks. A week goes pass hella fast apparently, “Dunno, shit wasn’t the worst.”
You hum, understanding.
“What ‘bout you, you enjoy it?”
Tapping a finger to your chin, you think about something he can’t quite read on your face. Yeah, you decide.
“I like the people.”
”That it?”
”I liked the food? Yeah, i mean we had to make most of it ourselves,” he guesses that it must mean something to you when the class does actually class activities, “the curry was too salty that one day though.”
”Thank you!”
He noticed it too?! “You noticed it too?”
”Fuck yes?!”
”Why did no one say anything?!! I had to chug down water after every bite!”
He scoffs, shutting his eyes and remembering the horror of the salt lid quite literally falling into the pot. “Damn dorks didn’t want to admit it and started calling my taste buds burnt.”
”I saw them gag after every bite from my table, Jirou pointed it out, hehe.”
”No one has a goddamn backbone in this school, there’s like fifty people here and no one said a word?!”
”Maybe they were scared, word was you made it, Mr class A chef.”
”My cookin’ is fucking amazing, just so you know.
You chuckle, “I’m sure it is, I was told about it.”
”Why are always in contact with somebody?!”
Laughing a little harder, you stand to take some tea from Yaoyorozu offering right next to the two of you. “Here.”
“Thanks.” he mutters, taking a sip, his long lashes fluttering behind the rim, watching you make small talk with the girl infront of you.
“Oh!” you turn back to him quickly, nudging his shoulder even though he was already looking at you. “You won’t guess what happened to me in the kitchen like forty mins ago!”
He quirks an eyebrow, suddenly invested, such a gossiper.
”Well i was chilling in the kitchen cleaning up to bring the stuff outside when Denki and Tokoyami walked in all mysterious and stuff, you know when people act strange before something happens? It was like that but there was something off. So i’m kinda talking to them when suddenly dark shadow attacks from behind and freakin’ steals some of the cookies i worked hard to give to everyone!”
”He WHAT?!”
“Well i know the cookies are for everyone at the end of the day and he would’ve probably eaten them eventually, but it just felt disrespectful, you know? Am i crazy?”
”The hell you are! Fuckin’ assholes you should’a told those fuckers off!”
”Gosh I should’ve! But ughhhhh, it just felt mean and like who even am i to be giving out orders, that’s so main character syndromed .” You cringe at the thought of acting all bossy then just getting stared at. Nope, nope!
”Fuck that, he needs to control that goddamn overgrown bird. Just ignore them,” he pauses for a second, looks down and smirks triumphantly “hah! They got the shit batch anyway, this one is hella better!”
”Shhhhh! Stop, you’re gonna give me away!” Ah! this was supposed to be secret, now he’s here shouting it for the world to hear.
”Pfttt. Who cares???”
”I do!”
”Hah? well you shouldn’t! life’s too short.”
You pout, he just doesn’t get it.
But, you don’t mind, somehow, you definitely cringe when he starts cackling at your red face, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t just make your afternoon, he thinks like you after all.
He didn’t get awkward when you said you felt selfish, he told you that you were but it shouldn’t matter because who the fuck cares.
People have been selfish to you plentyyy of times, you never saw them sitting back and thinking how that might’ve affected you!
You're glad he’s here, you spend the whole evening and night up until the whole thing ends and you’re getting rushed inside because of sudden rain, laughing, mostly by yourself, with him.
And just like that, your training camp for class 2A comes to an end, and you’re going back home with an actual close bond with someone, you have things to look forward to, a newfound bond with your old best friend, a hot girls trip to the mall and you don’t grimace at the thought of summer ending.
Woah! You can’t believe you just said that.
Bakugou, he’s pretty cool, he doesn’t let you get sad when you want to and that’s pretty cool, right?
He’s pretty and he’s cool.
He’s a pretty, cool friend. Ahhh!!! You can’t wait for school to start again!