“You Coming or What?”
Katsuki Bakugou x Reader Word Count: 815
You were halfway through folding laundry in your living room when three quick, aggressive knocks slammed into your front door like they were trying to pick a fight.
You blinked at it. “...What the hell?”
When you opened the door, Katsuki Bakugou stood there, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a second motorcycle helmet.
His usual scowl was in place, but his eyes—sharp and focused—were locked directly on you. His black riding jacket was already zipped up halfway, his ash-blonde hair slightly windblown.
“Get your shoes,” he said, holding out the spare helmet like it was obvious. “We’re goin’ for a ride.”
You stared at him.
Then down at the helmet.
Then back at him.
“You just show up at my place without a text or a call and demand I jump on a bike with you?”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Didn’t think I needed to make a damn appointment.”
You folded your arms across your chest, trying not to let the way he looked in that jacket—or the way your name sounded in his voice—get to you. “What if I was busy?”
“You were folding socks. I saw through the window.”
“Excuse me for trying to have a productive Sunday.”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t budge. Just held the helmet out again, this time with a little more emphasis.
“You said you liked bikes. Said you’d never been on one,” he muttered, eyes narrowing slightly. “So I’m fixing that. You coming or not?”
Your heart did a quiet somersault.
Bakugou wasn’t one for soft declarations or planned-out dates. When he did something, it was direct, no room for hesitation. So if he was standing here now, helmet in hand, it meant he’d been thinking about this. About you.
“...You brought a spare helmet,” you said softly, taking it from him.
“‘Course I did,” he grunted. “Ain’t gonna let you ride with me without it.”
You smiled a little. “Aw, you do care.”
He gave you a glare, but it didn’t quite land the way it used to. “Tch. Don’t start.”
Ten minutes later, you were holding onto Bakugou’s back, your arms wrapped tight around his torso as the bike rumbled beneath you.
You could feel the heat of him even through his jacket—solid, warm; the scent of his cologne and smoke lingering as he revved the engine and tore down the road.
City lights streaked past you like fireflies.
You’d never felt safer.
Bakugou didn’t say much during the ride. He didn’t need to. The way his gloved hand reached back once to squeeze your thigh—checking if you were okay, if you were still with him—spoke volumes.
He drove until the city faded behind you, until all that was left was the quiet stretch of coastal road and the sound of waves crashing nearby.
When he finally pulled off into a secluded overlook, the sky above was streaked with deep oranges and purples—sunset in full bloom.
You climbed off, pulling off your helmet with a breathless laugh. “That was—okay, yeah, that was amazing.”
“Told you.” He smirked, hanging his own helmet on the handlebar before turning to lean against the bike. “You gripped me like you were gonna fly off.”
“I thought I was!” you shot back playfully, walking toward him. “That thing moves like hell.”
He snorted. “You’ll get used to it.”
Silence settled between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The ocean breeze was soft, the light turning his hair gold at the edges. He was watching you carefully now—quiet, unreadable.
You nudged his side. “Why today, Bakugou?”
He looked away for a second, then shrugged, jaw tight. “Just felt like it.”
Your brow rose. “Right. And you just happened to bring a spare helmet you’ve probably had sitting around for a while?”
He gave you a dry look. “You gonna keep talkin’ or you gonna thank me properly?”
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Dumbass,” he muttered, voice dropping to something softer. “I wanted to spend time with you. Thought this was a good way to do it. You said you liked when I let you in on stuff I don't show everyone else.”
Something shifted in his expression then—open vulnerability trying hard to disguise itself as irritation.
Your heart twisted.
You stepped closer, until the toes of your shoes bumped his boots. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not being sweet.”
He scoffed. “Ain’t sweet. Just not a shitty boyfriend.”
You blinked again. “Wait… boyfriend?”
Bakugou froze.
Shit.
But before he could try to backtrack, you leaned in, arms looping around his neck. “Good. Because I didn’t wanna be the only one thinking that’s where we were heading.”
His red eyes widened just slightly, the lines of tension easing in his shoulders as he looked at you.
“...Yeah?” he asked.
You smiled. “Yeah.”
Then you kissed him.
And this time, he didn’t need to say anything at all.
__
thank you @invisiboom12 for the idea 😉
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