Morning light filtered through the curtains, but without his hearing aids, the world was quiet. Bakugou groggily blinked at the ceiling, exhaling sharply. Twenty-five. Just another damn year.
A vibration against the mattress caught his attention right before the bedroom door flew open. His four-year-old daughter stood there, her blonde hair messy, eyes shining with excitement. She scrambled onto the bed, mouth moving—probably yelling—but he couldn’t hear her.
Beside him, you stirred, a small smile on your lips. The engagement ring he’d put on your finger two years ago glinted as you propped yourself up.
Bakugou smirked, ruffling his daughter’s hair. But then she lifted her tiny hands, fingers moving carefully, deliberately.
“Happy birthday, Daddy.”
His breath caught. His crimson eyes widened as he stared, watching each sign like he needed to burn it into memory.
You nudged him, signing, “She’s been practicing for months.”
His throat tightened. His little girl—his whole damn world—had learned his language, just for him.
Exhaling sharply, he pulled her into his arms, pressing a rare kiss to the top of her head. She giggled before signing again, small fingers brushing against his back.
“I love you.”
Bakugou clenched his jaw, inhaling deeply. He signed back with steady hands, “Best present ever, brat.”
You reached over, running a hand through his messy hair before signing, “Happy birthday, love.”
His gaze softened for a second before he huffed and pulled you in for a kiss—slow, deliberate. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed over your ring.
“Can’t believe I’m marrying your sappy ass.”
You smirked. “You love it.”
Bakugou didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled you both closer, holding his whole world in his arms.