It had probably been an hour, honestly.
He'd been standing in the flower isle with his brain on total lockdown. Why the fuck were there so many? And why were they all named something so ridiculous? The sweet smell was getting overwhelming and no matter how many times his eyes raked over the selection he couldn't choose. Did Y/N like roses? Carnations? Chrysanthemums? Geraniums? He was starting to feel sick.
"Just make a decision, Katsuki," He muttered to himself. "It's just flowers. Just fucking flowers..."
He checked his watch again and cursed at himself. It had been a full hour since he'd arrived at the store and he'd spent literally all of his time staring dumb-faced at the flowers.
"Excuse me sir, is there something I can help you with?" An elderly man asked. He was wearing a work apron-- a store employee. He must've noticed Bakugou's struggle.
"Flowers. Her birthday. It's--" He squeezed his eyes in frustration. "Girlfriend's birthday."
The old man hobbled over to stand next to Katsuki. "Flowers have different meanings, you know. For the flower and the colors of each flower."
Fuck. Seriously? Now I have to worry about the meaning?
"I don't need help," Bakugou grunted. He turned away in embarassed annoyance.
The old man ignored him and grabbed a bouquet of pink-petaled flowers. They were big and poofy, and they smelled sickly sweet. "Pink is usually a safe bet," He said. "Very romantic. They look pretty, too. These here are peonies."
Bakugou crinkled his nose. He decided that he didn't like peonies-- too extra.
His eyes scanned the selection again and landed on a flower that he actually knew the name of. A sunflower. He grabbed one and twirled it in his hands as he examined it. For once, Bakugou actually liked the color; and the smell didn't nauseate him like the others. In fact, it barely had a smell. "What about sunflowers?" He muttered.
"Uh... well, they're not very traditional. We don't usually have people buy those; they're a bit odd for gifts. May I suggest something more appealing, such as--"
"I want sunflowers."
The old man chucked. "You seem to know what you want...alright, I'll make you the sunflower bouquet."
It didn't take long. The old man was clearly very skilled in his craft and somehow managed to arrange the bulky sunflowers in a way that made them seem more presentable. Bakugou liked them; he couldn't put his finger on it, but they did remind him of Y/N. They felt stronger than the other flowers and somehow the color felt right for her. He felt proud of his pick.
As he was paying for the bouquet at the counter, however, he felt a bit disappointed. Flowers... didn't feel like enough. He wanted to give that idiot the whole world like she deserved. When Bakugou looked down at the sunflowers he sighed and his heart sank a bit in his chest.
The customer in line in front of him finished paying and the cashier called Bakugou up next. As he paid, his eyes landed on the magazines lining the wall.
An idea popped into his head.
~~~
It had been an exhausting day. Kirishima and Mina had absolutely spoiled her-- they'd gotten her new clothes, fun treats, and a poorly-made birthday cake. Nearly the whole class had contributed. Well... all except Bakugou.
She tried not to let it bother her. It's not like it was his fault; she never told him it was her birthday. What was hurtful was that he didn't show up to any of the celebrating. He wasn't there for the singing or the cake and ice-cream, not the presents, not the dancing in Kirishima's room. Where the hell was he?
At 6:00 PM Y/N had given up any hopes of spending time with him. His shift was starting in an hour or two-- he would likely be getting ready soon or finishing his workout. Bakugou was a workaholic after all.
She spent the rest of the evening in her room on the floor, her tools scattered around her as she labored over her boyfriend's boots. It was a minor fix really, but it couldn't hurt to polish and tune-up his gear. Her overalls were getting a bit greasy and her hands smelled like oil. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and pulled her hair back into something that resembled a ponytail.
Once she was properly satisfied with her work, her heart jumped at the excuse to see him. She grabbed the boots and walked down the hall to his room and knocked on the door.
"Your boots are done," She called.
No response.
She rolled her eyes and opened the door to see Bakugou sitting at his desk working on something. His head snapped up and his eyes widened. "Hey! Don't you knock?" He stood up from his chair in a hurry.
"I did knock," Y/N snapped. She stormed into the room and threw his boots on the floor. "Your boots are done. Still don't know why you had to wake me up at--" The words faltered when she saw what was on his desk. "What... what are you doing?"
"Uh... birthday gift," He grumbled.
On Bakugou's desk were dozens of newspaper clippings-- they were all American headlines of her. Each piece was recognition of different heroic feats she'd performed or news outlets praising her work. There were photos of her in action along with articles describing the incidents.
Her eyes raked over the collage and her heart thumped. Tears were prickling behind her eyes. "Where the hell did you get these?"
"There's a guy at a convenient store across the street who collects newspapers. He's an old fuckhead but he gave 'em to me for a favor."
Y/N picked up one of the photos-- it was her at her debut fight. She looked positively radiant. Happy memories were racing back to her in droves. It was overwhelming but so, so perfect.
"You did all this?"
"No shit," He grunted. He turned around and picked up a bouquet of... sunflowers? "And uh... these. They're wilted now, shitty things--"
His words were interrupted when Y/N grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him down into a kiss. It was messy and wild and Bakugou could've melted right there. He cupper her face with his hands and kissed her harder but pulled back in surprise when he felt a tear on her cheek.
"Woah, what? Why are you crying?" He demanded, still a bit flustered from how perfect her lips had felt. "Fuck. I knew sunflowers were a shitty pick. Look, I can go get different flowers--"
"You dumbass!" She cried. Her laughed mixed in with her sniffles. "It's a happy cry. This shit is so sweet, no one has ever done anything like this for me. It's wonderful."
Bakugou smirked with pride and straightened his back. "I give damn good gifts."
"You do, especially for something so last minute."
His cheeks burned a bit. "I... Sorry. I didn't know," He mumbled.
Y/N laughed. "Dude, it's fine. I never told you. Though it was pretty shitty that you tried to wake me up so early," She said. "And not even for something fun."
Bakugou raised an eyebrow at her. "Something fun? Like what?" His voice went deeper as he leaned in closer and it made Y/N's breath catch in her throat.
Y/N didn't respond. Her face only froze as his hands reached out to touch her again-- they slid up her arms until his finger traced under her chin and lifted her head to look him in the eyes.
"It's not too late for 'something fun,' Tinkerbell," He taunted. "Is that what you were hoping for this morning?"
"Maybe," She grumbled. She could feel her blood pumping. "But you just wanted your fucking boots fixed. Dickhead."
"Aww, you mad?" He teased. "Did you want me to ask for something else?"
Before she even had time to be upset at his mocking tone he grabbed her by her waist, picking her up and turning to drop her on his mattress. He crawled on top of her with a dangerous look in his eye that made Y/N dizzy. He was always so... possessive.
He leaned down and for a moment she thought it was for a kiss-- but then his head dipped next to her ear and she shivered as he whispered, "You want another present, birthday girl?"