Can you do a story where bakugo and reader get into a heated argument causing their baby to cry?
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¤ę¨ď¸ A heated argument with Katsuki is cut short by the sound of your baby crying.
Bakugo Katsuki had always been a man of fire and force. Loud, blunt, explosive in both quirk and temperament. He charged headfirst into battles, arguments, and life itself, never once second-guessing his instincts or softening his edges for anyone. The world learned to either keep up or get trampled.
Before quiet mornings, shared exhaustion, and a tiny life that fit perfectly in his massive hands.
Fatherhood didnât tame Katsuki, not really. He was still sharp-tongued, still stubborn, still terrifying when pushed. But somewhere along the way, his anger learned restraint. His fists unclenched faster. His voice dropped when it mattered. Because it wasnât just about winning or being right anymore.
And the 6-month-old baby you both loved more than anything.
Katsuki never raised his voice at home.
He yelled at villains, barked orders at sidekicks, snapped at reporters, but the apartment you shared had always been different. Quieter. Safer. A place where his temper stayed leashed because you were there, because your baby slept just down the hall.
But tonight, that leash breaks loose.
The argument doesnât start with shouting.
It starts with something small. Something stupid. Something thatâs been circling the both of you for weeks.
Katsuki coming home late. Again.
Another mission that ran longer than planned. Another text sent too late. Another promise of âIâll be thereâ that turns into âSomething came up.â
You try not to make a big deal out of it at first. You tell yourself heâs tired, that being a top-ranked hero comes with sacrifices, that you knew what you signed up for. That this is just how his life works.
But exhaustion has a way of sharpening resentment.
It comes out when you notice how the baby barely sees him awake anymore. How youâre the one pacing the floor at three in the morning, memorizing cries and lullabies while heâs out there risking his life. How sometimes it feels like youâre doing this alone.
So when Katsuki finally comes home with the clock reading 2 AM, the apartment is quiet except for the faint hum of the baby monitor.
He barely steps past the couch before the lamp beside you clicks on.
Youâre sitting there with your arms crossed tight over your chest, foot tapping against the floor, expression sharp and unimpressed. Waiting.
His gaze softens the second he sees you. He knows exactly where this is heading, even if he pretends otherwise. With a low sigh, he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it onto the nearest armchair, moving like he plans to walk right past you.
Your stare stops him cold.
Katsuki pauses a few paces away, running a hand through his messy hair, eyes flicking briefly toward the hallway where the nursery sits just beyond the living room.
âI know what youâre gonna say,â he mutters.
âDo you know what time it is?â you ask, voice low but sharp.
His jaw clenches as he glances at the digital clock on the wall. â2:17 AM. Whatâs your point?â
Your glare sharpens. You are very much not amused.
Katsuki rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall, arms crossing over his chest.
âLook, I know Iâm late, but the mission ran overtime. Itâs not like I can just drop everything the second it hits 10, princess.â
Your lips press into a thin line.
âIâm a hero,â he adds, irritation creeping into his tone as he's taking off his hero boots.
âI donât work a regular 9-5. You know that.â
You narrow your eyes, irritation bubbling in your chest. Itâs the same excuse every time, dressed up in different words.
"I know that," you replied, your voice sharp with irritation.
"But it doesn't make it any easier when you're hardly around. Our baby has been asking where you are and I've been asking when you'll be here."
You inhale sharply, exhaustion bleeding into your tone despite yourself.
âWe both know he favors you more, Katsuki. Itâs always âdada here,â âdada there,â and then he cries when he doesnât see you. Well, dadaâs not here!â
Your voice raised slightly just enough to sting.
Katsuki's expression darkens instantly. He was never one to take it kindly when being yelled at.
"You think I don't know that??" He snapped back.
"You think I wanna deal with lunatics everytime I walk out that door?!"
He pushed himself off the wall, taking a step towards you, his eyes narrowing.
"I'm trying my damn best! I'm a Hero. That's my job. Saving people is what I do."
You scoff, your frustration bubbling over. The lack of sleep and stress of the baby's crying had taken their toll on you, leaving you in a strained state.
"Well, maybe your 'best' isn't good enough!" you shoot back, your own words laced with anger.
"Our child needs you too, not just me! And I'm tired of being the only one here, dealing with what your absence leaves behind!"
Katsuki's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his temper flaring at your words.
"The hell are you talking about?! You think I want to miss out on shit!?"
He fired back, voice rough, but beneath the anger, there was something raw. Â
"Every time I walk out that door, I know there's a chance I won't come back. And all I can think about is you two waiting for me!"
He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply.
"But I can't just stop being who I am. You knew that when you married me."
His voice dropped lower, almost defeated. "So what the hell do you want me to do, huh? Quit?"
You felt a twinge of guilt at the pain and frustration in his voice, but your own hurt and exhaustion were clouding your judgment.
"I just want you to be here!" you exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes.
"To be a father to our child. To be a husband to me! But instead, you're constantly risking your life out there, and all we get are late phone calls and canceled dinners! It's not fair, Katsuki, and you damn well know it!"
"I know it's not damned fair!" he snapped, running a hand through his messy blonde hair.
"But what the hell am I supposed to do?! I can't just turn off being a hero! People out there need meâ just as much as you do!"
The tension hangs thick between you, his shoulders rigid, breath heavy. He was struggling with balancing his hero life and his role as a husband and father, and it was tearing him apart.
A sharp, frightened cry cuts through the apartment from down the hall.
Your baby, startled awake by raised voices neither of you meant to let spill.
Yours and Katsuki's head snapped toward the sound instantly, your argument momentarily forgotten. Katsuki's entire body tensed, the anger draining from his expression in an instant, replaced by something softer.
"...Shit," he muttered under his breath before pushing past you, his strides quick as he headed toward the nursery without another word.
The second he reached the crib, his rough hands scooped up their wailing child with surprising gentleness, pressing the baby against his chest. His voiceâusually sharp, usually loudâwas now low, strained with guilt as he whispered,
"Hey... hey, kid. I'm here. I'm here."
The baby's cries falter, then soften. Tiny, desperate hands clutch at Katsukiâs shirt.
Katsuki's heart ached at the sight displayed by his kid and the single word that left the child's mouth sent a wave of emotions crashing through him.
"Yeah, dada's here," he murmured, holding the baby snugly against his chest. His hand gently held the tiny head, his fingers carding through the soft hair.
His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the sharp tone he'd had only moments ago. "Shhh... I got you, kiddo. I'm not goin' anywhere.."
You follow a moment later, stopping beside him. The sight makes your shoulders sag, exhaustion finally seeping through as you let out a quiet sigh.
â..you see what I mean?â you say softly.
âItâs hard getting him to sleep or do anything when youâre not here. Sometimes it takes hours, Katsuki. Iâm trying, but itâs⌠itâs hard.â
A heavy sense of guilt and helplessness weighed on Katsuki as he listened to your words, his gaze fixed on the baby in his arms. He knew you were rightâ he knew exactly how difficult things were when he was absent. The struggles you endured, the long sleepless nights, the constant effort to hold everything together.
His grip around the infant tightened slightly as he let out a ragged breath.
"Yeah..." he whispered softly.
"I know it's hard. I know I'm not⌠here. But what else can I do?" His voice cracked with desperation.
He shifted the now-sleeping child carefully into one arm, cradling them close, while the other reached for you, thumb brushing softly across your tear-streaked cheek. His voice, gravel-rough but tender, finally broke through.
"...You think I don't hate myself every time I walk out that door?"
Katsuki exhaled slowly, rough fingers brushing over their babyâs tiny fist as it curled around his thumb. His voice came out low and strained, like every word scraped on the way up.
âI know Iâm not here enough,â he said quietly. âAnd I fucking hate it.â
His gaze dropped to the drowsy child against his chest before lifting back to you, eyes sharp with guilt. âYou think I like missing shit? Like hearing him cry âcause he doesnât know where I am? Like seeing you exhausted âcause youâre picking up my slack?â
He adjusted the baby higher against his shoulder, his hold instinctive, protective.
âIâve been taking extra shifts. Overnights. Everything I can. Not âcause I want to be gone,â he added quickly, voice roughening,
âbut so I can clear my weekends. So when Iâm home, Iâm here. With them. With you.â His jaw flexed in frustration.
âBut no matter what I do, it still feels like Iâm falling damn short.â
ââŚThis is hard for me too,â he admitted, barely above a whisper. âI donât know how to do all of this right..but I really am trying.â
The baby sleepily coos, tiny fingers curling against his shirt. Katsuki pressed a kiss to the top of their head, inhaling the faint scent of baby shampoo. "Iâm⌠Iâm sorry. For all of it. For making you feel like youâre alone. For missing then. For not being⌠enough."
The admission hung heavy between you. The baby stirred slightly against his shoulder, letting out a sleepy whimper.
"I'llâfuckâI'll talk to the agency. Cut back on night patrols. Be home by 8 unless the world's actually ending." His jaw worked like he was chewing glass, fingers automatically tracing circles around the babyâs back.
The words were rough, dragged from him, but entirely genuine. His eyes met yours steadily.
Time seemed to freeze as the promise lingered. Thenâ you sighed, tension ebbing from your body, closing your eyes for a moment to let the exhaustion wash over you. When you opened them, a soft warmth shone in your gaze.
"oh kats..apology accepted," you murmured, a small, weary smile tugging at your lips. "I know youâre trying."
The baby stirred, and Katsuki instinctively bounced the child gently, soothing them back to sleep.
"I'm sorry too, Kats," you whispered, frowning, guilt in your eyes as you leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.
His breath caught. Then, katsuki turned slightly, pressing his forehead against yours with a quiet exhale.
"...Shut up," he grumbled, but there was no bite behind it. His free hand holds your cheek, holding you there for a moment longer then dropping it to your waist. "Just⌠donât apologize. 'S my fault."
The baby let out a sleepy coo, fingers curling into the fabric of Katsukiâs shirt.
"People need you⌠10 is fine, hun," you whispered.
Katsuki let out a huff, half-exasperated, half-relieved, thumb brushing over the babyâs back as he shook his head.
"...9," he muttered stubbornly, pressing a rough kiss to your temple. "And Iâm putting the damn patrol route on your phone so you know where I am."
The baby snored quietly against his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the quiet compromise settling between their parents. Katsukiâs fingers twitched against your waistâhome, finally.
He carefully shifted the sleeping baby into your arms and leaned down to kiss the infantâs forehead. When he lifted his head, your eyes met and softened, lingering for a quiet moment. Your cheeks flushed, and he noticedâsmirking slightly before leaning in to steal a quick, tender kiss from your lips. His calloused fingers stayed wrapped around yours a second longer than necessary before he finally pulled away.
"You're takin' the first shift," he muttered, moving toward the bedroom door but pausing halfway.
"...Wake me up in three hours. I'll take the next one."
No argument remained in his voiceâjust quiet, resolute determination. He will keep his promise.
And for the first time that night, the apartment felt whole again.
.đĽa/n: all these domestic katsuki requests are GETTING TO MEEEâ I love them all sooo much. More requests to go! Stay tuned for more ramblesss!!<3
