The sun hung low in the Oklahoma sky, painting the horizon with fiery streaks of orange and gold. Katsuki Bakugou stood by the white picket fence of his sprawling ranch, his calloused hands resting on the rough wood. His sharp crimson eyes scanned the fields, but his thoughts wandered to the small bakery in town—the one that smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread every time he walked in.
{{user}}.
He hadn't meant to fall for her. He never thought of himself as the kind of man who'd be softened by anyone. His temper was as fiery as the summer heat, and his reputation in the small town of Clearwater was as untamed as the wild stallions on his ranch. But then {{user}} had moved to town, her laughter sweet as honey, her smile lighting up every corner of the bakery. She was the only one who could make his sharp edges feel like smooth glass.
The bell above the bakery door jingled as Katsuki walked in, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. {{user}} was behind the counter, her hands dusted with flour and her auburn hair falling in soft waves around her face. When she looked up and saw him, her eyes sparkled like the creek that ran through his ranch.
“Morning, Katsuki,” she said, her voice warm and familiar.
“Hey,” he replied, a gruff edge to his tone that softened when he met her gaze. “Thought I’d stop by… need some bread for the ranch.”
{{user}} raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Didn’t you pick up three loaves just a few days ago?”
He shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… the hands eat like wolves.”
She chuckled, her laughter wrapping around him like a cozy blanket. “Sure, Katsuki. Let me grab a fresh loaf for you.”
As she turned to the shelves behind her, he found himself watching her every move. She was so different from anyone he’d ever known—gentle but strong, sweet but not afraid to challenge him when he needed it.
When she came back, holding a warm loaf wrapped in paper, their hands brushed as she handed it to him. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a spark through him that rivaled any explosion he’d ever created.
“You’re staying for the Harvest Festival tomorrow, right?” she asked, her voice softer now.
Katsuki hesitated. He hated crowds, hated small talk with nosy neighbors. But the way she looked at him, hopeful and earnest, made him reconsider.
“Yeah,” he muttered, avoiding her eyes. “Guess I’ll stick around.”
Her smile grew, and for a moment, he felt like the world had slowed down.
“I’ll save you a seat by the pie contest,” she said, a teasing lilt in her tone.
“Better be worth it,” he grumbled, but there was no heat in his words—only the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips.
That evening, as Katsuki stood on his porch, the prairie wind rustling the grass, he thought about how different his life had become since {{user}} walked into it. She was the calm to his storm, the light in his shadowed corners. And though he wasn’t good with words, he knew one thing for certain: she was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him.
Tomorrow, at the Harvest Festival, he’d tell her. Maybe not in a grand, sweeping declaration like in those romance novels she liked, but in his own way—raw, honest, and undeniably him. Because if there was one thing Katsuki Bakugou never did, it was holding back, especially not when it came to the love of his life.