Fantasy! Bakugo x Modern! Reader Pt. 4

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This was requested by someone on my tumblr as a sort of continuation on my 3 part series. If people request fluff, I gotta deliver! 

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For once you were glad for the silence that encircled the small camp the three of you made on the outskirts of the forest. Sometimes the quiet felt like a fog of death hung around like a persistent stench you couldn't escape from...but after today the lack of noise was oddly comforting.

"Holy shit," Kirishima groaned while warming his hands by the fire, orange and yellow embers floating upwards with the wind into the dark sky. "We really survived all that, huh?"

Bakugo scoffed while tying the bandage around his injured hand and ripping off the extra with his teeth. "'Course we did, you think we'd get beaten or something?"

"Nah, but it was looking a bit dicey there for a bit. I knew we'd win, just didn't know if we'd all come out in one piece, ya know?" Kirishima answered. His eyes darted towards you then, silent ever since you helped make camp. "Hey...(y/n), you OK?"

Snapped out of your mental images of bloodshed you plastered on a fake smile for the sake of keeping the tone light despite the events of the day. "Uh, yeah, yeah I'm fine. No need to worry."

You'd been here over a month now, which meant Bakugo grew to recognize the meanings behind your mannerisms - and the way your fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt told him you were lying through your teeth. His crimson eyes raked down to your leg where a dark stain stood out against your pants, making him flinch. Without a word he grabbed up the pack and carried it over to where you sat, your back leaning up against a large fallen tree. "Moron, shoulda said something earlier."

Bakugo's silhouette, backlit by the open flame, never failed to make you stare. You attempted to fold your foot underneath your other leg so he couldn't get to it, but he grabbed you by the ankle and set it in his lap while he rolled up your pants leg to the knee. You'd long since discarded of the clothes you came here with since they were, in addition to completely unfit for the climate here, filthy. The town he got the new clothes from seemed unwelcoming to newcomers - especially ones associated with Dragonfolk and carried a bad reputation - but money was money no matter who it came from. These were more comfortable and warmer, though terribly out of fashion.

"You don't-"

"Shut up," he interrupted with a glare before continuing to doctor your wound with deft and calloused fingers. Whatever ointment they had here to quicken healing and prevent infection stung like hell, making you bite your tongue to keep from yelling out. "Don't be a baby. It's better than having just one good leg." At that quip you paled, but he just smirked.

Bakugo worked while he and Kirishima talked back and forth about plans for the next day. He could multitask easily, and his hands moved with a delicacy and gentleness unfamiliar to you coming from him. "Are there wars back in your world?" he asked suddenly, turning his attention fully back on you.

"Yeah, there are. But they are...far away. Obviously I'm not really used to fighting. Sorry if I'm a burden." Bakugo scoffed while he wrapped a bandage tightly around your calf.

"Everyone has their uses. Would've left you ages ago if I thought you weren't more than a pack mule," he answered.

"Don't listen to him!" Kirishima called from the fire while standing up to stretch, a toothy grin on his face highlighted by the flames. "You might not be a fighter, but that's what we're here for, right? You're good at lots of stuff. Like reading! Neither of us can read, so-"

"Shut it!" Bakugo yelled back over his shoulder. "What good does reading do when you're in a fight, hah?" He pulled the knot on your leg tightly but you tried not to flinch. Instead a bit of a laugh came out instead. "You makin' fun of me or something?"

You shook your head at his pissed-off expression. "No, no. Do you want me to teach you how to read?" Miraculously the language here was very similar to your own, so you could read signs and papers they couldn't.

Kirishima eagerly raised his hand in the air. "Oh, me! Teach me! I bet I could read real good."

"You think you can do it better than me? That it?" Even through his loud temper Bakugo's thumb rubbed small circles into your leg before rolling down your pants leg, standing up, and squaring off with Kirishima. You knew they'd never actually fight, though. Not seriously, anyway.

Kirishima snored loudly while curled up by the dying fire. He looked like a large, scaly red cat, honestly. Bakugo sat next to you, tired red eyes like burning coals staring ahead but focused on nothing. The silence felt unnerving once again. "Do you think I'll ever get home?" you asked, not really expecting much of an answer.

"You doubting I can do it? Can get you back?" he replied. Of course he'd take it as you losing faith in his promise to, eventually, send you back where you belonged.

"It's nothing to do with what you're able to do...just wondering about the means. The piece of the puzzle we need to make the Well work again. Every time we seem to get close, it leads to a dead end," you said, the last words trailing off into the darkness.

Bakugo remained quiet for a minute, the sound of the wind, crackling wood, and Kirishima's snores the only details in your ears. "If there's one thing I hate, it's failing. At anything. I'm too much of a stubborn ass to give up." He looked at you with those smoldering eyes of his, glowing like suns even in the darkness. He motioned silently, opening up his heavy red cloak to let you set against his chest before he wrapped it around the both of you for warmth. You felt his heartbeat at your back as his chin rested on your hair. This was some small comfort, some vestige of vulnerability Bakugo offered only when the two of you were alone. You had nothing of value to offer in return for his help and companionship, yet he stayed. His warmth like a cup of tea on a cold night you fell asleep to the pattern of his breathing as he kept watch with the stars above and visible through the trees an audience.

You would wake alone in the morning, and either would ask the other to stay. It's better like this, echoed one lie to the other. 

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