Katsuki Bakugo X Reader

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Words: 1995

Warnings/Notes: Swearing, let me know if y'all want a part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Alright so I grew up on quads and in sand rales, if you don’t know what those are look ‘em up they’re freaking awesome. Anyways dirtbike dudes are usually hot as hell, so of course my brain decided to mix two of my obsessions and so I give you, Katsuki Bakugo riding (not like that you freaks) a dirtbike. I may make more for others. Also for the sake of this pretend they’re allowed to drive and stuff.

The next morning you awoke alone in bed, last night's dream coming rushing back to you. He slept with you. You asked him to stay and he did. But… how did you get into bed, you fell asleep on the couch? Did he carry you? Or did you simply not remember getting up? You quickly shove the thought out of your head and walk into the kitchen. On the table sat two plates, both with waffles and syrup already prepared. Behind one of the plates sat a tired Bakugo, waiting for you to sit down before he started eating. The second you laid eyes on him last night’s dream came rushing back into your head. God, he looks handsome even just sitting there. You smile and take a seat in the chair next to his, smiling over at him before digging into your waffles.

“Thanks for making breakfast by the way. I meant to get up and do it but I slept really well last night and didn’t want to get up,” You smile up at him, laughing at yourself for telling him you slept well, “Did you sleep okay? Some of the beds have better mattresses than others.”

She really doesn’t remember that we slept together. Did she think I was someone else? Or was she just saying my name because we were hanging out earlier that day? 

“Yeah, my mattress was fine,” He trailed off for a moment as if lost in thought, “thanks.”

“Of course, just making sure you’re comfortable,” You reply before shoving more waffles into your mouth. Bakugo lets out a small laugh, short and quiet, but you hear it. You look up at him, a weird smile on your face and question in your eyes.

“What?” he questions.

“You laughed, does that mean you’re in a good mood,” You say with a slight chuckle.

“It just means no one has pissed me off that much yet,” Bakugo responds, glancing up at you and then looking back down to his plate.

“Are you insinuating that I’m going to piss you off?” you lean back, pretending to be offended. All you get is a grunt in response. 

You go the rest of breakfast without saying much, though it wasn't an awkward silence, it was just comfortable. Neither of you was on your phones or sitting awkwardly, you both just ate. Stealing occasional glances at each other and almost eating in sync. Bakugo seemed calmer to you for some reason. He must just always be more relaxed in the mornings. 

Eventually, you finish breakfast and get ready. You opt for a tank top instead of a shirt, today is supposed to be hotter than the last. Bakugo notices, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than normal, though you couldn’t talk your eyes were eating him up with your eyes the way he wears his gear. God, why am I crushing on him so much right now, it’s never been this bad in the past. 

You go about getting ready like yesterday, pulling open the garage, and starting your bike. You sit on your bike, waiting for Bakugo to come out of the house. When he walks out he's eating a granola bar, again running his hand through his hair. Why is he always doing that and why does he look so good doing it? Your eyes linger on him a little too long and he looks up to make eye contact with you, unexpectedly keeping it. He walks around to the side of your bike, leaning one of his hands on your handlebar.

“What’re you staring at?” Bakugo cocks his head to the side, taking a bite of his granola bar. A blush slowly creeps onto your face, the confrontation taking you by surprise.

“Oh, nothing, sorry,” you turn your face away, hoping to hide your blushing face.

“Don’t apologize,” He smirks and walks over to his bike, still sitting in the garage from the previous day. He pushes it out and turns it around before starting it up. God, it’s still hot the way he starts it up. The way you can see the muscles on his arms flex and the way he does it so easily. Damn. He follows you again, and you spend the day the same as the previous. Riding until lunch, and once again, he manages to pay. Something about this time was off though. He was being, calmer. He was pumped up from the riding, but he was handling it differently. Looking at you more, riding alongside you rather than in front of or behind you, just overall being nicer, in a way. Eventually, it was getting late again and you both decided to head in. Bakugo followed you down the side of the road once more. You both stop on the pavement outside the barn door, but this time Bakugo goes with you to open it. He helps you lift and push it up. The hell? Why is he acting like nothing just happened? You head inside and grab the ramp for your truck, and once again he helps you carry it. What is going on with him? Don’t get me wrong I like it but, it’s so unnatural for him. 

“Do you need help getting your bike up?” You ask as you pull down the tailgate on your truck.

“Nah I got it, just go ahead and go shower, I’ll take one after you,” he nods in the direction of the house and then proceeds to push your quad back into the barn for you.

“Right, thank you, let me know if you need help,” you smile before heading inside and going straight to the bathroom.

Shit… her smile is so damn pretty…

When you walk out of the bathroom, your wet hair hangs around your face, and you see Bakugo sitting at the table. 

“Hey, the shower’s open if you wanna take one now,” you say, nodding your head in the direction of the shower.

“Yeah, thanks,” he gets up and walks past you, brushing into you on the way.

“Sorry,” he says so softly you barely hear it, not in a dismissive arrogant way, but in a genuine, caring way. Why did that feel so, comforting? It’s like it shot through my body, making me all warm. While Bakugo takes a shower you pack up the remainder of your clothes. You set your duffle by the door and sit and read at the table to wait. When he gets out he steps into the kitchen for a moment.

“‘M gonna pack up my stuff real quick,” he barely even looks up at you, just looking down at the clothes he’s holding in his hands, his shaggy wet hair still hanging in front of his eyes. Like he’s suddenly shy and doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

After a couple of minutes of waiting for him, he calls you back to his room.

“Two seconds,” you say, putting the bookmark in your book and getting up from the table. When you enter his room you see him sitting on the corner of the bed, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. His duffle bag sat at his side, the bed re-made and ready for the next person. He looked up at you from his hands, his damp hair still hanging slit=ghtly in his face, dripping little droplets onto his bare chest and grey sweatpants. He wore a pair of sneakers, scuffed from the many times of wearing them. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” he starts, “if you say no it’s alright.”

“What is it?” you take a couple of steps closer to him, so you're standing within arms reach.

“I want to ask you out, like on a date, and before you say anything let me tell you why. You know this isn’t my strong suit. I’m not very good with emotions, I’m hotheaded, I mean you know. But I have to try. There was something different about you when we first met. You were… less annoying than the others. Part of me wanted to be around you. I didn’t mind sitting near you at lunch. There were all these little things, still are these little things, that someday I promise I’ll tell you but for now, let me tell you this. I enjoy seeing you, being with you, and this weekend when you spent the whole time with just me it made me feel special, like I was important to you, it felt right.” He looked up at you with questioning eyes. The pink on his cheeks only grows more as the moment becomes more private. 

“Bakugo I think we can count this weekend if you think about it.” You stood there smiling, your hands fidgeting with one another. His eyes widened before he let the slightest bit of a smirk rest on his face. 

“Well then, would you go on another date with me?” he asks, his confidence growing.

“I really would love to,” you smile, walking towards him and placing your hands on his cheeks.

“You’re cute when you're sentimental,” you say, laughing a little.

“Alright shut up dumbass,” he stands up and your hands fall back down to your sides. 

“Let's go,” once again he says it softer than normal, then he slings his duffle over his shoulder, kisses your forehead, grabs your hand, and leads you to the kitchen, all while you stand there a blushing mess. You both silently walk to the front door, you grab your book off the table while he picks up your duffle bag.

“I can carry it myself you know,” you cross your arms and give him a look.

“I know,” is all he says before walking out the door, leaving you to lock up and follow after him.

On the ride home, he sits up for the first little while, but eventually, he decides to lie down and rest his head on your lap. You have an old truck, old enough that the seat is a bench. So he lays across the whole thing, his head on your thigh and you spend as much of the ride as you can with your free hand in his hair or resting on his shoulder.

When you make it to the storage locker where he stores his bike he tells you to wait in the truck and rest for a minute while he unloads it and puts it away. When he’s done he gets back in and tells you to swap places. He drives the 20 minutes back home, and by then it’s dark. You quickly fall asleep, your head on his lap this time. He plays with your hair a little and puts his jacket over you. When you arrive back at the dorms he carries you inside and brings you up to your room. When he sets you down you reach out for him and hold onto his hand.

“Is this going to be like last night where you ask me to stay and I have to leave at the earliest hours to make sure no one finds out?” he asks as he squats down so his face is level with yours. 

“That was real?” you mumble out.

“Yeah, that was real. I’ll be right back I gotta get our bags,” He pulls the blanket over you and kisses you on the forehead. Then he runs back out to your truck to get both your bags and makes sure to lock the truck afterward. He goes back up the elevator and drops off his bag in his room before bringing your own to you. When he gets there he finds you passed out, tired from the long weekend. 

“Sleep well, y/n, we’ll get plenty of chances to sleep together,” he smiles at you one last time before walking out and shutting your door. This girl is going to be the death of me.

—--

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