#bnha fluff

[caelumbra]

pairing: katsuki bakugo x reader

summary: how you react to your boyfriend, bakugo, in a sinfully small and short baby tee

contents: fluff, a lil suggestive

word count: 770 words

playing: lollipop - lil wayne

You love seeing Katsuki in baby tees.

Much differently than other girlfriends who love seeing their boyfriends in clothes that were revealing.

Because Katsuki isn't performative with it, he doesn't wear shirt cut too high to say hey look at me, I'm a guy who's confident in his masculinity enough to wear this!

Katsuki doesn't have to prove anything. He just does shit because.

And god, do you love it when he does.

There's something so sinful in how casual he is about it. About the fact the shirt hugs him a bit too firmly in all the right places. About the way the hem sits right below his navel, giving you the perfect viewpoint of the stretch of tanned skin above his waist, and if you get really lucky when he wears those low-hanging sweats, the ridiculously enticing trail of ash blonde hair down into his waistband.

The sight of Katsuki in baby tees makes you a little stupid. So of course you try to take your dignity back in the best way you know how—attempting to ragebait your unfairly attractive boyfriend.

"So what, they didn't have any bigger sizes at the store?"

At your words, he looks at you from where he's just existed your bedroom. Like it's an immediate reflex, his brows draw down into that familiar scowl at your teasing.

"Don't act like you don't like it."

You hold in your grin, wanting to see the fire under his skin, knowing it makes the reward all that much hotter.

"I mean c'mon Katsuki," you bait, "I thought you had a thing for fashion, this is a bit low for you."

He scoffs, continuing his walk to the kitchen.

"I just got out of the shower, can you not."

Your invisible grin widens. He's annoyed.

"I don't know what I'm doing." Your exaggeratedly coy tone of voice give him pause, making him turn around from where you were ogling the narrow slope of his back from where it peeked out from that oh so sinful shirt.

Your eyes jump to meet his so you don't get caught in the act, connecting with his crimson gaze as his eyes meet yours.

"Tch." He scoffs. His eyes take you in fully from where you're seated almost too comfortably on the couch. "Don't be a brat."

"I just voicing my concern." You raise your brows in faux sympathy. "As your girlfriend I believe it's my job to do that."

Katsuki's mouth opens to say something until he pauses, obviously reading something on your face that you thought was hidden.

He looks between your eyes, realization coming to his as a wide shit-eating grin spreads across his face, understanding you in a way that no one else can.

"You're full of shit."

"Excuse me?" Your eyebrows shoot up in offense. He's right, but you still reserve the right to be offended.

He says nothing, walking over to where you're seating. You try so hard to keep your eyes on his, but with the way his exposed lower abdomen is right at your eye line, your gaze keeps dropping on his slow approach. Every dropped glance makes his grin grow even wider, until he's standing right over you at an angle that's truly sinful. Your mind goes to a dark place, imagining that with simple move, his sweats would be at his ankles and your mouth on his— You blink to clear your head, arching your neck to where he's smirking at you, oh so aware at the thoughts going through your head.

"You can just say that you like my shirt, you idiot."

You pout up at him, unable to miss the way he swallows when you do so.

"Why would I do that? And make your ego grow even bigger than it already is."

Affection smooths down the edges of his gaze as he continues to look down at you.

"Not my fault when I've got my beautiful girl at home who loves everything that I wear."

You can't help the heat that rises to your skin, chin tucking into your chest as you mutter in embarrassment.

"I don't love everything. Like this dumb shirt."

You can't see him as he snickers.

"If you say so."

Before you can respond, he brings his warm hand to the back of your neck.

"C'mere." He mumbles, using his hand to pull you off the couch, and you follow in complete ease as he brings his mouth to meet yours.

You make a mental note to replace all of his current post workout tees with baby tees.

So much for your dignity.

a/n: my first bakugo fic !! i'm surprised it took me this long to write one bc he's literally my man.. expect more bnha fics in the future !!

-mdni. all characters aged up, dividers by @ethereal-illusions and @pixynari

© 2026 caelumbra

taglist: @browhyarefictionalmensofine

[shewki]

I think sometimes im very tempted to make my own smau simply bc it kinda makes me sad when i read other smaus and its always like just photos of skinny women 💔😭

[belladonnasky]

Prohero!Bakugo who had big biceps.

Golden. Thick. Scarred.

Which wasn't exactly surprising.

Years of brutal training. Endless patrols. Rescue missions that left him carrying concrete slabs like they weighed nothing.

A body like his wasn't built overnight.

It was earned.

Still...

You weren't exactly thinking about any of that.

Not when your face was currently squished against one of them.

"...Comfortable?" his voice rumbled from somewhere above you.

You hummed, nuzzling deeper into the warm muscle.

"Mhm."

"...You're usin' my arm like a damn pillow."

"'Cause it is."

A scoff. "Brat"

You were also convinced half of Japan wanted these arms.

The skin-tight hero costume certainly didn't help.

Every interview. Every press conference. Every rescue caught on camera had people online collectively losing their minds whenever he crossed his arms or flexed without realizing it.

Sure you loved his arms but the rest of Japan loved those arms for entirely similar reasons.

The hero rankings practically exploded every time a new agency photo dropped.

Reporters somehow managed to ask the most ridiculous questions just to keep him standing in front of cameras a little longer.

You'd seen the edits.

The thirst compilations.

The embarrassingly dedicated fan accounts.

Sometimes you were pretty sure the cocky bastard made it worse on purpose.

Coming home straight from the agency after squeezing in one last workout.

Veins standing out beneath tanned skin.

Sleeves rolled up just a little tighter around his arms than usual, buttons looking one deep breath away from surrendering.

Just enough to watch your traitorous eyes linger a little too long, smirking like he already knew where the night was going.

But none of that compared to the mornings.

Those belonged entirely to you.

Just with Katsuki.

Soft around the edges in a way the rest of the world would never believe.

Sleep-mussed blond hair sticking up in every direction.

Grey sweatpants hanging low enough to make you question his intentions early morning.

You shuffled into the kitchen, still half asleep, and without a word your hand found its usual place, giving his ass a lazy squeeze.

"Morning, beautiful."

He barely reacted anymore, already used to it.

Just huffed out a quiet laugh beneath his breath, the sound rough with sleep as he continued flipping the breakfast pan.

"Mornin', pretty," he rasped.

Your smile widened.

Naturally, your next move was to latch onto his arm.

Both hands wrapped around his bicep as you shamelessly buried your face into it.

"Hungry," you mumbled giving a playful nibble to his arm.

"For breakfast?"

"...Eventually."

His brow lifted.

You were already staring again.

Your gaze wandered shamelessly over broad shoulders, across his chest, down the defined planes of his waist before settling—once again—on those stupidly huge biceps.

He caught you. Of course he did.

That infuriatingly handsome arrogant half-smirk tugged at his lips.

"...See somethin' you like?"

Before you could get another word in, he hooked an arm around your waist.

The world tipped.

One effortless lift-

And suddenly you were sitting on the kitchen counter.

Somehow, he still towered over you.

"...Tch."

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

"Greedy little thing."

His hands settled against your hips as he stepped between your knees, amusement dancing in crimson eyes.

"just gonna keep starin'..."

He leaned in, big hands already parting your legs and trailing higher.

"...or you gon' work f'it baby?"

Prohero!Bakugo who had big biceps.

Strong enough to lift cars.

Strong enough to tear through concrete.

Strong enough to save lives.

The rest of Japan admired them because they made him a hero.

You loved them the best when no matter what...

they always found their way around you.

or when they had you in a nasty chokehold.

[kenforty]

Next year maybe.

You randomly decide to bake a cake for Bakugou on father's day.

You aren't pregnant, you aren't even married, still in the middle of your masters, but decide Bakugou is a good enough man, you'd bake him a cake on any day.

You don't really put a lot of thought into the sentiment, more focused on picking the flavour and getting to work.

Pulling out cake mix, you looked through your options; vanilla, chocolate, cheesecake, red velvet, earl gre—deciding to stick with chocolate, basic and well within your skill level.

You: Do you remember what day it is? 8:34 am.

Suki💕😋: what do you take me for? 8:34 am.

You: Was just reminding. Come home soon, I've got a surprise. 8:43 am.

Suki💕😋: What do you mean?! 8:43 am.

Suki💕😋: Quit fooling around, what does that mean ??!! 8:45 am

It doesn't take long for it to be done, still resting in the oven by the time you are done plating dinner.

───────────────────────────────

You leaned over the kitchen counter, donned in his t-shirt and a pair of underwear, scooping a spoonful of cake, "Happy father's day, Katsuki." You grinned, not bothering to wait for him to join you, as you hummed at the taste of the cake.

Bakugou feels his heart thumping against his ribcage, implications of the sweet desert setting into his bones, the message— the surprise, you utterly relaxed in his kitchen, the chocolate smudged against the corner of your mouth.

He imagines it, for a brief moment, family of three instead of two, next year, may be father's day, a teeny tiny version of you, perched on the kitchen counter, cake smudged on the corner of the tiny mouth, maybe everywhere, on the bib, on the soft cheeks, your hands too, you giggling as you tried to control the chaos, probably begging him to take the pictures while the image for home settled into his soul.

Your call for his name brings him back to present, back to family of two, back to the kitchen you stood so carefree in.

"Katsuki," You whined, the spoon clinking against the plate as you abandoned it, stepping around the table to reach for him instead, "my cooking isn't that bad." Huffing, you pulled him towards the kitchen counter, "Try some before you chang—"

Your words are cut off with an umpf, Bakugou pulling you close, lips smushed messily against yours, licking whatever remnants of chocolatey sweetness coated your mouth.

He groaned against your skin, one hand cradling the side of your head, keeping your lips locked against his own, the other slid down to rest on your waist, thumb tracing shapes on your belly.

"Drivin' me insane," he hummed, peppering kisses on your face, from your temple to your cheeks to your chin, not even an inch of skin untouched by his lips, "Can't believe there's going to be two of you."

What.

"What?" You pulled back, brows furrowed as you placed your hand flat on his chest, confused eyes meeting his cherry red ones, "What are you talking about?"

"The baby?" He looked at you, like you were the crazy one, his palm fully settled on your lower belly, gently pressing against the skin, "The surprise you were talking about, cake on father's day?"

"The cake was the surprise," You watched his expression fall, leaning forward as he settled his suddenly heavy head against your shoulder, "Katsuki, did you think this was a pregnancy announcement?"

He weakly nodded his head, still tucked away in the crook of your neck, breathing shallow against your skin.

"I am sor—"

Instantly his head shot up, face cradled in his palms, "Don't, this was a misunderstanding on my end." He pulled you closer, cheek smushed against your forehead, swaying gently.

"Contemplated the possibility of mini-us for 5 hours start." He sighed, pulling you towards the kitchen, grabbing a clean spoon for you while he took your used one, humming in delight as he took a bite of the cake.

"Well, if it makes it any better, we could try for next year."

Oh, that would definitely make it better.

───────────────────────────────

[kenforty]

𓍯𓂃𓏧 distraction.

Bakugou Katsuki and his penchant for seeing your in skirts.

It's starts off with just fleeting glances, every once in a while, his eyes would drift over to where you worked on the balcony garden, tending to plants littered everywhere.

Tracing your silhouette whenever your his behind the curtains, before going back to reading his book or at least pretending to, so he wouldn't get caught shamelessly oogling you.

Eventually it becomes evident, you feel goosebumps prickle on your skin every time you step into his line of sight, more than once catching his lingering gaze, you ignore first but it gets out of hand at one point.

"Do you want the flowers to wilt?" You stepped into the living room, dirt and soil smudged against the soft skin of your hands, you don't bother cleaning them, knowing you'll be back out sooner or later.

"What do you mean?" Bakugou laid the book flat on his chest, spine creasing from being worn with age, "I didn't even say anything."

You tilted your head, palms coming to rest on your hips, the dirt from your hand smearing on the light fabric of your skirt, "There are other ways to bother someone." Leaning forward slightly, you chimed.

"I am just reading my book in this corner." He shrugged his shoulders, eyes drifting lower with every words, mouth watering at the sight of your hand prints smudged on your skirt, "You are blaming an innocent man."

"Innocent?!" You asked incredulously, lips twitching slightly as you watched a boyish grin spread on his lips, eyes looking up at you like you hung stars in the sky. "You are anything but innocent."

Bakugou swiftly placed the book on the table, sitting up straight on the couch as he reached for your wrists, "What makes you come to that conclusion?" He pulls your hands closer, pressing kisses on the insides of your wrists.

"You've been eyeing me all afternoon." You closed your eyes, weakly tugging your wrists from his grasp, peering at him through your lashes when he refused to let you go.

"Can't I even admire my wife anymore?" He pulled you closer, one hand letting go of your wrist and patting against your thigh, pulling you into his lap.

"Katsuki—wait my hand are dirty." You still slid into the cradle of his lap, thighs on either side of his, skirt riding up, exposing your supple skin.

He ignored your protest, grasping whatever part of your body he could get his hands on and plopping you on his lap, peppering kisses along your jaw.

Sighing you pressed forward, lips meeting his messily, hands curled into fists and tucked against your chest.

"Be good." He mumbled against your mouth, thumbs pushing into your curled up fists, flattening your palms against his chest.

You weakly humped his length, lips barely touching as you got sighed against his mouth, low moans escaping every once in a while.

He shifted, one arm wrapping around your waist to left you up, pushing his pants down to his thighs, so you could directly sit on his length.

"Keep me warm?" Bakugou asked, lips pressing against your cheek, fiddling with the hem of your skirt, all soft and warm and perfect for an afternoon nap.

You nodded your head, gently rocking back and forth in his lap, underwear wet and sticking to your folds, you shuffled getting off his lap for a moment to pull it down your legs.

Once settled, you reach between your bodies, hand wrapped around his cock, feeling him throb against your palm, wet and sticky from his precum oozing out.

Aligning him with your entrance, you slowly sink lower, lips parted as shallow breaths escaped them, feeling warm and fuzzy as you settled in his lap, clit tingling in neglect as your walls tried to relax around him.

"Go slow." He murmured against the sweaty skin of your forehead, one hand grasping at the fabric of your skirt, holding it taut so he admire where you were connected.

He stays still, eyes locked in the way you shifted in his lap, knees bend completely, weight balanced on your palms against his shoulders.

He pulled you closer, letting you rest completely on him, eyes fluttering shut once you both settled.

[kenforty]

(๑•́ -•̀) Chunkier.

Bakugou is 100% sure that he left you alone in the office, tucked in the corner seat of his couch, deeply immersed in the book you were reading, barely even looking up at him when he announced he's going to get dinner.

Dinner.

That was the plan, early evening dinner in the office, because he had patrol later that night and you had night shift at the hospital.

So, he's quite surprised to find you walking outside the office, cradling what looked like a big, chonky and very familiar baby in your arms, with Shitty hair leaning against the wall.

Kirishima finds him first, waving an enthusiastic arm as he stepped closer, ignoring Bakugou's out stretched hand and going for a tight hug.

"Look who came—" Kirishima's voice echoed in the hallway, bouncing against the glass panelling, "And I brought my produ—"

"Don't call him your product," Bakugou interjected before he could finish his sentence, already eyeing Asahi cuddled up in your arms, "What are you upto, dumpling?" He murmured, shifting the bags of take out to one hand and reaching for his chubby cheeks.

"We have him for the weekend again!" You grinned giddy as ever your tried your hardest to not make Asahi uncomfortable with how much you were smothering him in love.

Bakugou snorted, setting the bags on the chairs in the hallway and reaching for Asahi again, "Gonna stay with us holy sh—oot he's gotten heavier what have you been feeding him?"

Kirishima shrugged, grinning as Bakugou pulled Asahi closer, lips smushed against his chubbiest cheeks, "We sprinkle a bit of protein in everything."

You looked at Bakugou in slight concern, grinning as you imagine Kirimina and their mini-me having protein shakes for breakfast.

"We both are back on duty," Kirishima mention, scratching the back of his head as he met your eyes, "He's good, but it's still a bit tiring, we would bother alo—"

"It's never a bother," Bakugou cut him off, looking at the red head, "we can take care of him whenever need be."

"Thanks Bakubro." Kirishima leaned in to give him a side hug, before turning towards you and giving a full one, "I'll pick him up on Monday, Kay? Call me if you need something."

"Will do." You took Asahi's bag pack from him, already planning the day with him, "You ready to babysit again, Katsuki?"

"Always am."

[kenforty]

༄.° Turn around.

bakugou and the very specific type of condoms that he uses.

non-latex, ultra-thin, lubricated and extra large condoms, preferably a pack of 24, something he can keep stashed away in his drawer for later.

another specification, is the particular brand he buys, they can't be just any non-latex, ultra-thin, lubricated and extra large condoms, they have to be kanpeki's non-latex, ultra-thin, lubricated and extra large condoms.

the same brand of condoms that's sold in particular stores of Tokyo, hours away from your humble abode.

they don't even ship online.

that's why he prefers bigger packs. ugh.

you love him, you really do, you love his peculiar habits too—you really do, but the 2.5 hour ride you are currently on because the box of condoms in your bedside table is empty.

"babe, we could get the regular ones." you eyed the rows of latex and non-latex, patiently waiting for him to get snacks for the impromptu road trip, "it's just one night, we'll get them tomorro—"

"it is already tomorrow," he turned to you, palm flat against your lower back, head tilting towards the giant digital clock on the wall of the store, 02:34 am, 34 minutes ago you almost came.

instead of stars twinkling in your vision, they are littered in the night sky outside the store.

"really contemplating getting implant now." you groaned in faux annoyance, arms full of good you planned on devouring before you even hit the halfway point, "do you know how ridiculous this is, we are going to Tokyo, for condoms, coNDOMS!"

you turned to him, expecting the familiar, endeared-cum-exhausted look he had whenever you tweaked upon facing mildly inconvenience, instead you were met with sheer horror painting his face.

and you knew.

you didn't have to turn around to know you'd quite loudly disclosed your very personal business to an unassuming bystander.

he took mercy on you, nodding his slightly towards whoever was behind you before the grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the counter, you were done shopping anyways.

the walk back to the car was full of silence and shame and second hand embarrassment.

you both wordlessly got in the car, snacks tossed onto the backseat, both quiet, both contemplating.

"I didn't mean to—"

"you did, you did mean to," bakugou interrupted you, eyes on the empty parking lot, "I still love you though." he sighed, turning towards you, lips curled into a grimace, "even though you traumatized an old man."

"i didn't mean to!" you groaned, head cradled in your hands, "I didn't mean to announce our personal endeavours, I just thought it's crazy we are going to another city for condoms."

"I know, I know," he started the car, smoothly getting back on the main road, "I'll figure out how to get them shipped monthly."

Dividers by: @/diviniyae 💖✨

a/n: lowkey I don't like how this fic turned out, I feel like lately my work hasn't been the best, I find something many things wrong with this fic agh! College has been busy I have exams soon and it's been difficult to find motivation to write, also i feel like I am bakugou too ooc in this fic smh, alas enjoy, hopefully it'll be better soon.

[belladonnasky]

Prohero!Bakugo was a man of routine.

His body woke before the alarm ever had the chance to ring.

Years of discipline had made it instinct—eyes opening with the first wash of dawn, muscles already preparing for the morning workout he'd repeated countless times.

Except today, he couldn't move.

Not with you draped over him.

The room was quiet, washed in pale gold as sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains. It softened everything it touched—including him.

"Mmph... stop moving, Kii..." you mumbled, burrowing deeper against him.

Somehow, every morning, you ended up tucked right over his heart.

"I've gotta get up."

Your only response was a sleepy sound of protest before your arms tightened around his waist.

Crimson eyes rolled toward the ceiling.

"...You're unbelievable."

Instead of peeling you off like he probably should have, his rough palms settled on your hips.

Big. Warm. Familiar.

His thumbs traced lazy circles through the fabric of your sleep shirt on instinct. "…Makin' it hard t'leave, baby"

You sighed content, tucking your face beneath his chin, the scent of burnt caramel and something distinctively him evading your senses.

"There you go," you mumbled. "Much better."

A breath that was suspiciously closer to a laugh escaped him.

"Brat." "Mm."

"You ain't even awake."

You cracked an eye open and nearly forgot how to breathe.

His hair was an absolute mess, blond spikes flattened in odd places from sleep, refusing to hold their usual sharp shape. Crimson irises blinked open slowly, still hazy around the edges, lashes heavier than they'd ever be once he was fully awake. There wasn't an ounce of tension in his jaw yet, no familiar scowl etched between his brows.

Like this, he looked... younger.

Less like the Pro Hero the world knew.

You wanted to keep this version for a little longer, a secret between you and the morning light.

"Fifteen minutes?" you offered.

Bakugo glanced toward the digital clock glowing on the nightstand. Every second ticked his carefully planned schedule further off course.

Normally, that would've irritated him.

Instead, he looked back down at you.

Your hair was splayed across his shoulder, your breathing slow and even, lips slightly parted as sleep tugged you under again.

"...Tch."

His expression softened in that tiny, almost imperceptible way only you ever caught.

He leaned down, pressing a lazy kiss to your closed eyelid.

"Fifteen."

Another kiss found your temple.

"Not a second more."

You smiled into his chest, "Knew you'd cave."

"Don't get used t'it."

You both knew that was a lie.

Prohero!Bakugo was a man of routine.

He trained before sunrise.

He never missed his schedule.

He hated wasting time.

But every morning, without fail, he let himself fall fifteen minutes behind.

Just for his favourite girl.

And if anyone asked, he'd deny it until the day he died.