Evil Villain reader that is more of a recluse than anything, especially now in the modern era. You dont want to interact with the world outside your evil domain, its too bright, the overtly saturated colors of the world hurting your eyes. It was too loud, the happy chirping of birds, couples that were too happy together laughing, the squeal of a child experiencing the wonders of the world.
It was so gross.
That's why you created your domain, its muted and muddled colors calmed and steadied your mind. Kept it sharp and made it easier to spot heroes sporting bright blues, reds, greens and yellows. You put extra care in making sure that it was in constant fog so that the wonderfully depressive mood never left you.
You made sure that your domain was quiet. No sign of life besides the undead creatures you decided to reanimate and create. You adored their sounds, the strangled intake of air into their decaying lungs (don't worry, they don't need air, they just like it) was to you as a kitten's purr was to others. The sounds of chittering and scuttering of the large arachnid like creatures you created warmed your heart, because for you it was like hearing a baby's laugh.
The pride you felt in seeing your abominations walking around and moving amongst the fog, conversing and playing with the other creatures was comparable to a parent watching thier child graduate.
Perfect.
Yes, your domain was perfect.
At least it was until those... things came.
Children.
"Heroic" children at that.
They didn't know that they were nothing but sacrifices.
They didn't know that their gods and rulers did not care for them.
You remember when the first one was sent to slay you, it was many years ago -back when kings and queens ruled and magic was well known. Back when gods sent thier "chosen one" heroes to be slaughtered by forces they viewed as "evil"- when they first invaded your paradise.
You never understood why they would always come into your domain and attempt (feebly) to slay you. You didn't understand why they felt so comfortable slaying your precious minions, but would hesitate when it came to the woodland creatures just outside your domain.
It wasn't like your domain was leaking into their kingdom, you didn't 'steal' the land from any kingdom, being older than all of them combined, so why was it that these rulers and gods kept sending you their infantile "best"?
You didn't hate them.
It made no sense to hate them.
They were children doing what they thought was right, doing what they thought would make their elders proud and happy, it reminded you of when you created your first henchcreature, a dryad of a rafflesia arnoldii.
Weak, but eager to make you happy.
That eagerness was what drove them to your domain. That eagerness was what caused the slaughter of so many of your monstrous creations.
You didn't hate them.
You hated what they did to what made you happy.
So, you began your journey as a villain.
Did you kill the children? No.
You didn't have to.
All you had to do was use your magic to send them back to their homes. Back to the little cottages, castles and city streets they longed to.
And then you'd follow.
...
...
You don't kill children, but you do kill the ones who send them.
You softly place your palm over the worn out eyes of the elder that trained the little heroes, whispering softly to them to not fight their fate. Reassuring them that by your hands, they will feel fear for the very last time as you plunge your dagger deep into their heart, holding them firmly as they drew their last breath.
You would lay them down onto their bed, making sure their eyes were closed before you left them. The mentor might've filled the children's heads with false promises of glory, but you knew they were once eager too.
You smile as your loyal minions sink thier teeth into the fool that was mistaken as a true oracle, satisfaction filling your blackened heart hearing how the fool's screams and pleads for mercy right before your loyal and lovely mymic bite into their neck, ripping out the fool's larynx.
You didn't feel the same sympathy for the false seer that you did for the mentors. Why should you? Their false prophecies lead to the kingdoms sending lambs in the vein hope that they could slaughter you.
Their false prophecies are what lead you to retaliation.
What lead them to their death.
Why cry for the moth that willingly flew into the fire's flames?
You hummed a quiet lullaby as you walked down the grand and opulent halls of the castle that housed the royals that came from near and far to discuss ways to destroy you, with the heel of your boots making a satisfying clik sound with each steady step you took.
The guards tasked with protecting the royal's lives with their own fast asleep thanks to the magik within the lullaby. They did not deserve your wrath.
Not yet at least.
As you walked down the hallways, your loyal minions following behind you as if you were their savior leading them to their salvation, you couldn't help but think about how it was sort of comical.
What exactly?
The walls.
The gilded walls amused you. It amused you how the gold gilded walls gleamed magnificently even in the dark of the hallway of the imposing stone structure, with the only light being the lanterns that lined the walls along with the waning crecent moon peaking through the grand windows to illuminate them, giving the hallways a almost romantic atmophere as the golden gild reflected the light.
However, you could smell the rot that laid underneath.
You could smell the wood that the gold clung to rotting away underneath, slowly molding and slittering beneath the golden and painted grandeur. You could smell the blood, sweat and decay of the prisoners that rested in the dungeons beneath the golden facade of the grand and regal structure, thier pained groans, diseased filled breathing and choked cries not unheared by you.
A home reflects its owners.
This home was desperately trying to hide its rot, just like how its owners were trying to hide how panicked and afraid they were.
Here they were, the greatest in all the land, hand picked by the divine themselves with their noble bloodlines, huddled together within a room, exchanging words that were as confident as fools gold at a bank.
They're afraid.
They're afraid of the mess they created and of the 'villain' that they sought to destroy before 'something' could happen, guided by false seers and gods that did not care for their well being, only their own amusement.
How annoyed.
As you reached the doors to the room that held the most 'noble' of the continent.
You hummed as you opened the wide, letting the inhabitant's look upon you and your beloved monsters, who stared back with hungry eyes and snarling maws.
"Wh... Why..."
The noble in tyrian purple robes asked, wanting to know what sin they could've possibly committed to be condemned by you and your monsters.
"We did nothing to you.."
You tilted your head, astonished at the arrogant words of the noble.
"You sent children to do what you can't... I'm doing this to show what happens when you sent me children."
With a snap of your fingers, your blood soaked message was sent for all of the world to hear.
You looked up from your book, zoning in on the sound of footsteps and the smell of ciggerettes that drifted down the hallway into your sitting room.
"I don't recall inviting you into my home, warlock."
You called out, placing a bookmark between the pages of the book you were reading before placing it on the levitating, silver platter.
"I thought I'd drop by for a surprise visit, love," the sandy blond man spoke with his thick scouse accent as he entered the room where you sat.
"I don't like surprises," you deadpanned as you summoned two glasses and a bottle of scotch with a flick of your wrist. You poured him a glass and held it out to the Brit with the cynical eyes, waiting for him patiently to take the glass and a seat.
You didn't like it when he visited, it always meant trouble.
After all, him visiting you is the reason why you are unable to leave your domain now.
He took the glass from your hand and sat down on the loveseat across from you, letting his body relax for a brief moment before he took a sip of the scotch, letting out a satisfied sigh afterwards.
"I especially don't like surprise company, Constantine."
trigger warnings: grief, death of a grandparent, talks of death and dealing with death, angsty but mostly damien being a supportive boyfriend
an: i am pulling from my personal experience with grief and loss with this piece. with the holiday season, i had a reminder of my own grief and how it stays with me and needed to put pen to paper to help me process. i hope it helps someone else too.
when things get hard, Damien knows he’ll find you gazing at the moon
Damien knew he would find you here. In the small corner of the living room where the love seat you inherited from your grandmother sat, right under the window where you could look up at the night sky. Eyes tracing the visible stars and gaze lingering on the moon almost as if it was a life line, a confidant you could share all your secrets with knowing she wouldn’t tell a soul. You had explained to Damien once about how the moon was a comfort to you, her bright light a guide on your darkest night reminding you that there is still light in the world. How she was ever constant, even if you couldn't see her she was always there and no matter where you were she was always there watching over you.
You had explained how you spent many nights in your grandmothers arms, during restless nights filled with nightmares and terrors that haunted your young mind, staring up at the moon as she told your stories and promised that no matter what she would always be with you all you had to do was look up at the moon and she would be watching you.
Quietly, Damien moves to the kitchen and makes you some tea with a drop of honey and your homemade lavender syrup before he returns to the living room. Setting the tea down on the table beside the love seat and wrapping a threadbare knitted blanket around your shoulders to fight off the chill in the air.
Some nights the tea lies untouched on the table and Damien simply sits beside you. A comforting and grounding presence against the war waged in your mind, in comfortable silence and if you feel like talking he's there to listen, to comfort, to support. Other nights, you lean into him. Head against his chest, calmed by the steady rhythm of his heart beating, the warmth of his body seeping into you and his arm wrapped around your shoulder being a welcome pressure reminding you that he was here. That he would always be by your side and offering the welcome reminder that you could still feel something.
Tonight is one of those nights and as you lay your head against Damien, you thank him for the tea as he places a small kiss against your forehead. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
You let out a deep breath, tears starting to well in your eyes again. You thought you had cried yourself dry in the hours since you tried to go to sleep until now but apparently not. Always quick to react and to comfort Damien gently cups your face with his free hand and gently wipes at the tears as they fall as he places another kiss to your forehead and rocks you slightly from side to side.
This time of year was tough. It had been ever since your grandmother had died 2 years prior. The fall and winter was always her favourite time of year and Christmas her favourite holiday. She loved decorating the tree, you and your cousins trailing at her feet and helping where you could, doing arts and crafts with you at the dinner table and complimenting your amazing hand turkeys and the pieces of fallen leaves you had glued to add ambience to your picture (you could remember her laughing when you said that at 7 years old and asking how you even knew the meaning of the word), learning how to knit with her in the quiet inbetween moments when it was just you and her. Most of all she loved having a fully and happy home with her adult children talking amongst themselves while the grandchildren ran rampant across the house, always telling the parents to let them be when everyone got a little rowdy and waving them off with a they’re just kids. You had all of your happiest memories with her around this time.
You thought you had worked through the grief, through the pain of losing her. You had spent months after it happened in therapy, specifically seeking out a grief therapist to go to in conjunction with your normal therapist.
But grief is weird. It's not a fleeting emotion, not one that you feel in a single day and then it's gone. It stays with you, no matter how hard you try to fight it. In the immediate hours, days, weeks and even years after a person or beloved pet passes, it is an all consuming feeling. The weight of it felt in every fibre of your being, your bones, your soul. It's a dark claw clenching into your skin, leaking inky darkness into your veins until it wraps around your heart and it squeezes so tight you don’t think you’ll survive it. But you do. It takes time. But you learn to walk with the weight of it. You get stronger each day so it becomes a little bit easier bit by bit to carry the weight. While the ink remains, as you live and grow and love your heart fills with colours too. Each happy moment a flourish of colour fighting against the blackness until its nothing more than a speck amongst a kaleidoscope of vibrant colours. But it's never truly gone. It lives within us for the rest of our lives and in some moments, even days, the weight feels a 1000 times heavier than before and that speck of darkness sometimes shifts to the center of the kaleidoscope so it's all you can see in its mirrored reflection. But it also acts as a reminder, you survived the grief once and you will survive again.
Today was one of those days for you. It seemed that no matter where you turned or what you did, there was a reminder of your grandmother. A hummingbird flitting about your little balcony garden, it had been her favourite bird. Her favourite songs playing in your car and nearly every store you went into that day as you attempted to finish your Christmas shopping. The flower shop attendant gifting you a small bouquet of sweet peas with your purchase as a thank you for being a loyal customer, it had been your grandmother's nickname for you and a plant she always had growing in her gardens. Even a little girl, walking hand in hand with her grandmother through the mall as they went to visit Santa together. It had all made the grief feel fresh and raw and heavy and you had rushed home where you could let the tears fall.
The final nail in the coffin for the overwhelming grief you now felt, a package from one of your aunts that included childhood photos of you and her, her favourite book the edges worn and yellowed from year being read, and a letter. She had written it before she died, and it details all ways she loved and was proud of you and how she would always be with you and all you would have to do is look to the moon and know she was there. That was when the dam finally broke and the tears flowed freely.
Damien had come home to find you curled up on the sofa, the letter in your hand and the cats curled up with you one at your feet and the other on your knee. He was quick to come to you, to ask what was wrong, but you hadn’t wanted to talk then and he understood. He didn’t push, he didn’t pry or try to force you to open up to him, he trusted you would when you were ready.
Instead, he sat beside you, held your hand and talked about his day a little to try and cheer you up. He told you stories about Shayne on Try Not to Laugh, about how Angela exploded during a game of Moose Master and an insane reddit story he had filmed that day. It wasn’t that he didn’t care what you were feeling, he did but he thought in that moment what you needed was a distraction and it worked. Happiness and joy bubbled through you at the stories, though a little subdued, and suddenly there was colour mixing in with the blackness that had surrounded you.
You laughed along to some of his stories, albeit a little weak and watery from the crying, and came back to life just a little bit. After telling his stories, Damien leaned over and placed a kiss on your head and told you to stay there while he made dinner. After dinner, though he was supposed to stream that night, Damien sat with you on the sofa with your back against his chest and his fingers running through your hair or rubbing gentle circles into your skin while you watched a movie before you both went to bed for the night.
But even in your dreams, you couldn’t escape the grief. You had visions of your grandmother, her bright smiling face looking down at you as if she was the moon while you walked a winding road through the trees, her light guiding you to the exit and to a feeling of safety and calm. It was a surreal dream, and it had been the first dream you had of her in a long time. When you woke, it was with a start and a pounding heart. The dream wasn’t scary, it wasn’t a nightmare. But rather a soft reminder that you can go on and that your grandmother was still with you, all you had to do was look up at the moon and she would be there.
Which is how you ended up where you are now, securely wrapped up in a blanket with Damien by your side as you stared out the window at the moon.
“My family's finally going through my grandmother's stuff,” your voice is soft, hoarse as you speak. If the tried tear stains weren’t enough, it was proof you had been crying, “I got a package today with some stuff in it, there's probably more to come, but this was the important stuff.”
Damien gives a soft hmm in response as he continues to stroke gently at your cheek. “Um…there was a letter in it from her and todays just been filled with reminders of her and it was tough.”
Damien places another kiss to your forehead and pulls you closer to him, never interjecting, just letting you speak as he listens. “I needed to talk to her for a bit and I can’t go to the grave because its out of state so I came here”
A soft smile makes its way to Damien’s lips as he looks out the window and sees the full moon shining down on the two of you, the soft light illuminating you both in a silver glow almost like a warm embrace. Like she had been listening before and was listening now, he got why you found it comforting. Even now, when he wasn’t the one in distress it felt like a wam hug, an acknowledgement of what had happened, what would come to happen and that fact that despite it all you would be okay.
“I like to think that she’s up there,” Your eyes stopped watering and you snuggled in closer to Damien, head turning slightly to place a tender kiss to the palm of his hand before you turned to look up at him, “And she can hear me when I talk to the moon.”
He smiles gently at you, eyes quickly glancing to the moon before moving back to your face, “I think so too.” There's nothing rude or condescending about the way he says, but understanding and belief like he truly means it. “Why don’t we talk to her together?”
So you do, wrapped up in her old knitted blanket and in each other's arms, you gaze and talk to the moon. Telling her anything and everything, your grandmother had never met Damien nor did she know the story of the two of you getting together, so you start there, she always had been a sucker for a good love story. As you talked and talked, telling Damien your favourite stories of your grandmother the weight started to ease and colour started to return to your heart. The previously black kaleidoscope turned golden and silver as you remember that love and grief do not have to exist separately but they go hand-in-hand.
i cant stop. wolf au scar and grian collages under the cut. wooooormmms in my braaaiinnn.....
i do this to somehow keep from going crazy. and also to stop myself from mauling my beta for not going over the SEVEN GOOGLE DOCS IVE GOT OF WOLF AU. SEVENNNN!!!!!
one day ill commission an actual artist for wolf au. i neeeeed art......
✸ — MISC NOTICE. ; minors dni. VERY RUSHED AND MESSY UEUEUE mara struck ! jing yuan x reader. maybe expanding on this particular thought lolol, this is not my current jy wip btw it's just a blurb, jing yuan is not all there guys, caharcter death ( it's u but ur immortal surprise ), VERY CANON DIVERGENT AND IS VERY MUCH AN AU ( it's soulsbourne inspired i want to turn this man into a boss fight with tragic lore you read from a random item you pick up lolol. also maaaaybe some very light referenced inspos from mouthwashing ). again very messy but i might expand on this au some more. not edited!!!
you're running out of supplies.
it's a thought that unearths some age old panic inside. you're a little surprised you could tip over any further from the edge ( you're already swimming in the tacky stench that is your anxiety -- the stuff with the consistency of molasses and malt ). Then you're rifling and recounting again, scribbling into your little notebook as your burns sting like salt over wounds.
you're running out of supplies. there's so little left ( a few protein bars and some bottled water left unvapourized post crash ) and it's sickening to think of the decisions after. you know that perhaps, swallowing away the last few bits of horror is a wiser choice. you need to step out some time. you need to forage and restock and --
gingko leers closer. its stink makes you gag. you want to empty your stomach out -- meager rations and stomach acid. all of it.
the things have not left their prowling. they still wait, watch, wonder. some have started to pace at the boundaries of the impact site and poke at the metal covers of the ship. you hear their clicking at night. the garbled distortions gurgling at their throat. their eyes are empty, a once human caricature that's twisted itself inside out.
you take a breath in. you breathe out.
"get up." you tell the pathetic face reflected on the metal cannisters. "there's nothing else to be done."
the reflection blinks back, sad eyed, tired eyed. you grimace and set it aside, shakily rising up and sweeping through the past logs you'd left behind. comms are still down. the delivery packages don't have much to eat save for spare clothes and jewelry. one had a model set of one of the newer ipc ships, complete with two tiny pilots to sit at the cockpit.
your old crewmate had tried to assemble it before his fingers grew numb and he'd curled up to rest ( it's still on the side table, unfinished. you couldn't touch it. the grief just refuses to unstick, still lost somewhere out in the stars.
he was the youngest. he had a future to look forward too, a little more shine in his eyes and a flush to his cheeks. a little more breathless awe that he's chatter through with messy sticky note art and his stumblings over countless books over white holes and rouge planets. )
the garbling spikes up. you catch a shadow by the frosted windows. you freeze.
then silently, you're curled into your corner again, white knuckled as you stare at it, left with nothing but shaky hands and the wild heartbeat ringing in your ears.
you died when you do step out. the things had found you wandering past the abandoned crates, scuttling forth by the pack-full and dragging you into the darker corners as their scathing cries tear your eardrums apart and their claws scoop your insides open.
you'd then woken to see muscle and tissue and visceral matter grow back and stich together -- neurons reconnecting, muscular tissue reworking, epithelium taking form over it all.
and you...you watch in muted horror.
you keep foraging after you discover you cannot die. it;s something that had fundamentally changed about you -- the reworking of your body. it's clinical terror at it's finest, the breaching of unnatural surreality. even if the delivery company finds you, the ruling ipc body will just cut you open again and again.
you hunch your shoulder, hugging the walls. there's still nothing here. nothing more to pick at and the hunger still gnaws at you with the days passing by. your shoes scrape against the grit and grime and you peek out. the way through is empty. good, your mind rings, followed by a wave of uneasiness that refuses to push itself down.
you scamper to the next hiding spot. it's painfully slow. you're short of breath.
again, you scuttle out, take a turn.
you stop.
one of the things are here, face down and half disintegrating into yellow flakes. it doesn't breath, staying stock still as blood polls and fans out beneath it. you almost bend over and retch, but you take a shaky step forth, then another and take a closer look. it looks like the others, differently built, but still clad in the same rusty armour ( the kind whose clinking warns you of their approach ).
you take a knee and try tugging the helmet off. the branches creak. it doesn't budge.
your fingers pitter patter over the surface, nudging a little anxiously. it doesn't wake. it almost seems dead. you want to banish that thought and keep moving -- the abundance is a face long gone from the cosmos. the remnants of it may have scattered into the cosmos, spores taking to planets to let it's mycelium take root. it's not a thing easily killed.
at least you think this thing is one of it's monstrosities. the aeons are beings you'd rather not think too much about. you are not one for blind fanaticism. it's a belief worn out of you over the years in bleak emptiness.
a bit of cloth is tugged down. "fuck." you mumble, shaking your head. you almost sob. "fuck what am i doing?" the cloth is pulled further aside. there's a sliver of grey, and something cool, soft, corpselike.
human.
your stomach flutters. you peek up the helmet. the skin of it's face had distorted, overgrown and pressed against the metal till it fuses into the surface. this time, you do vomit.
fuck, fuck, fuck you do not like what you're seeing. you need to keep going. keep going. keep going.
you shakily stumble back up and jog past the body, almost slipping over the coagulated blood. it coats your palms and your head spins as you wipe it at the sides of your clothes, spiraling down further and further in. there's a spin to the world around you, the spotting of the environment, the blurring of the grates to the flickering morning and night cycle.
a rumble vibrates against your feet. you gasp, it's a dry, panicked sound, breaking into a run. your muscles scream and you nearly fall over at your pants catch against one of the metal barriers. you whimper, your water cannister falling behind you. you hear it roll down and hit a stairwell. still, you run.
you jolt to the side and scramble between two crates and crouch. a few of the things skitter by. there's distress in their voices. there's fear in how the wrestle past just as the air seems to electrify and you start smelling the stinging of ozone. it's like a distant rumble, thunderous, a dangerous clutch against your ribs. you make yourself as small as possible. you feel small, pushing yourself deeper in, slotting just inside a small nook and out of sight.
you do not see it walk past. you hear it, measured steps against the road. your hands clamp over your mouth, biting away that muffled blubber. you cannot die, you remind yourself. even if it finds you, you cannot die. and you have died a few times already...there's little to think of save for staving over that hunger. so little.
and you remember the pain. the screaming ache. the pain it comes with. you remember the agony of fixing yourself back together. you remember the gaps in your memories, the hazy edges and the way you'd forgotten your date of birth, your mother's face.
you squeeze your eyes shut. your breaths are laboured.
there's silence.
the footsteps have stopped.
you open your eyes. you see the looming shadow cast on the road. you still don't see it. you watch it shift, metal scraping against metal. you hear it huff ( is it amused? ) and something falls. something rolls and hits the storage containers in front of you. you watch wide eyed, your cannister rolling back, past your little way out, down, down, down the street and stairs.
the noise is loud. uncomfortable.
you want to scream till your vocal chords give out. you want to tear into your face, your eyes, your mouth. you do not.
the footsteps start again. they fade till it's echo is near inaudible. and you wait, paranoia settling into the cracks while your world starts to distort into the lines of madness. finally, as the sky flickers for the umpteenth time and you feel like the world has settled, you crawl out of your hiding spot and breathe the air in.
you smell gingko.
a hand closes around your neck. you're slammed against the metal walls as a cheek presses into yours. you just see silver, a pretty silver just as your windpipe cracks and your throat gives in. you stop clawing at your hands, broken wheezing rattling your chest. there's a blurriness. your tears fall. the figure lifts your chin up, vermillion flooding past. you feel like ice, like the charred remains of a corpse.
you can't make out his features. it's smudged. but you see the cold contemplation.
and you let death have you again, and cast you aside. you have no place in it's bedside.
you wake once more where it had left you. your bones are still stitching together, your inhales pained and the soreness of your back aching against the metal. you stare into the space across listlessly waiting, waiting, waiting.
how wonderous, you think, half giddy from asphyxia and the taste of sweat in your mouth. you could feel the knitting of damaged tissue in your throat. how bizzarre, how sickening.
you feel a little less human, your last name sinking past the surface, out of your grasp, away from your protests. you try to remember. you cannot.
you see it...him properly after a few more outings. the same silver hair, the same red dipped gold eyes. and he watches you too, an empty smile curling over his lips. the most human thing you'd seen far, yet not. it's an unnecessary addition. you wish you'd both never crossed paths.
"oh."
"oh?" he echoes, amusement lilting at the edges. it's playful, menacing. you take a step back when the frost at your feet melts away and ozone pervades your senses. he lingers, let's you fall back, let's you panic.
and you run.
and he chases.
and you die, under his breathless, rumbling laughter.
( the madness is a waiting beast. you know you cannot keep escaping it. but still, still still, you try to dance and still, still. still, it tries to pounce.
it's simply the way of things now. plain and simple ).
TAGLIST ノ join the taglist. — @silentmoths @meimeimeirin @sleepynoons @endursent.
Summary: You’ve been trying to become number one for so long, but just when you thought you would become a Champion Reiner, Bakugou Katsuki steals the spot from beneath your nose and becomes your number one rival. While on your way back to the top you find out there’s more to Bakugou than meets the eye.
This is was so long lmao, lets hope it makes sense plot wise I did not plan this story out haha we just writing blind. Also POA is a breed of pony they are very cute :) Lmk if I didn't tag anything right, I'm still bad with the new system smh
Warnings: all my grammar errors, self-loathing reader, feelings of depression, guilt, and shame mentioned, dead-parent mentioned, general discourse, fingering, oral fem receiving, praise, degrading if you squint ;)
Part Two
It was cool in the room you were in, the fan above you was lazily pushing air around the room. You pressed your face into the pillow as you started to wake up, regretfully so. The first thing you began to notice was your pounding headache, dry mouth, and rolling nausea.
“Better get up sweetheart, Katsuki doesn’t like waiting. Sure you know that already,” Kirishima’s deep voice filled the small room.
You blinked, lifting your head as you rubbed your eyes, “what?”
“You’ve got that lesson in about fifteen minutes,” Kirishima said as he checked his watch and shrugged on his jean jacket.
You shot up, practically scrambling to detangle yourself from his sheets, “shit, where are my keys?”
“Momo took your car home before we left, one of your friends was sick,” Kirishima answered coolly as he ran a hand through his hair and tied it back, “you sort of blacked once we got back to my place.”
You sighed heavily, that would explain why you were still in your clothes from last night. Well at least Kirishima was a good guy, not that he wasn’t but it was apparent nothing else had happened after you got back to his place. “This is so humbling,” you muttered as you adjusted your top.
“Here,” Kirishima said as he tossed you one of his shirts, “you can wear that for your lesson.” He was looking rather smug as he watched you yank off your crop and shimmy his shirt on. He knew that would piss Katsuki off.
“Thanks, I owe you, really,” you said quickly as you hopped out of his bed and put your boots on.
Kirishima gave you a lopsided grin as he grabbed his keys from his dresser and twirled them around one large finger while he watched you scramble around his room. “Of course, sweetheart.” He did think you were cute, definitely worth chasing, but he was never one to stick around for long.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes as you came to a stop by Kirishima, “do you think you can drop me off at Katsuki’s ranch? I’d drive but-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kirishima said as he shook his head, “we better get goin’ though.”
You nodded as you held your crop top tightly in your hands and you followed him out of his home. It was pretty small but cozy. He lived on Crimson Ranch, which made sense, he was a ranch hand. Off to the side of his house, you could see a big cattle dog sniffing around what you assumed was Kirishima’s horse.
You frowned as your nausea hit you again, you had no idea how you were going to get through a lesson this morning. Riding hungover was never smart, and you would hate for Bakugou to see you looking weak. He’d probably make some smart comment, that asshole. Again though, you were starting to grow angry at the fact your uncle got you a lesson with Bakugou in the first place. Why did he do that?
Thankfully the drive to Bakugou’s ranch was pretty quick, or you were sure you would have had to ask Kirishima to pull over so you could calm your rolling stomach. As you came to a stop outside of Bakugou’s arena you were in shock at how big his facility was. Guess being champion for three years meant that he had gotten rich fast.
Your mouth turned sour with jealousy as you looked at his two outdoor arenas and large indoor arena. He had two huge stables and at least five or six pastures right by his office building, all of them currently filled with Dynamight foals.
Dynamite, you huffed, that horse no doubt had strong genes, almost all of his babies were roans like him. Or maybe Bakugou just had a preference for breeding roans.
“It’s impressive isn’t it,” Kirishima said with a sigh as he leaned back in his seat, causing it to creak under his weight.
You nodded, “it is.” Your father’s ranch was like this, not as fancy, but big enough to create a legacy. One that you let slip through your fingers. Something you’d never forgive yourself for.
In the distance, you could see Bakugou out in one of the outdoor arenas riding his horse, and another was tied off by the fence. It was small, and looked almost like a POA, due to all of its red spots. You narrowed your eyes, he was putting you on a pony? In fact, was he putting you on his old childhood pony?
Kirishima started to laugh from next to you, apparently, he saw the pony too, “he must really hate ya to be putting you on Peach.”
You lifted a brow, “great.”
“Can’t believe that old thing is still kickin’ she’s gotta be at least twenty two now,” Kirishima said as he shook his head, “she’s mean as hell, hates the bit big time. Better be gentle or she’ll buck ya off,” he said with a slight glimmer in his eyes. Seemed like Kirishima had his fair share of time with the pony.
You huffed, guess Bakugou was making sure you did have soft hands after all. “Well, thanks for the ride, Kiri-”
“I’m gonna watch,” Kirishima announced as he got out of his car, leaving you in the passenger seat.
“Okay,” you said to yourself, feeling a little more self-conscious now. You didn’t know Kirishima very well. You had heard of him through the grapevine, saw a photo or two on social media, but now after last night, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more.
With a disgruntled sigh you got out of the truck and followed Kirishima to the gate of the arena. The sun was already hot on your back and you plucked the oversized shirt you were wearing. You squinted as Bakugou rode up to you and Kirishima and came to a stop, his vermillion gaze cutting between the two of you.
“You’re late,” he said, glancing at your attire and the dark marks that lined the side of your neck. “The hell are you wearin’?”
“We didn’t have time to stop by her place to get changed,” Kirishima quickly answered for you, giving Bakugou a nasty smirk as he suddenly yanked you close to his side.
You yelped almost tripping over your own boots as you collided with Kirishima’s side, “right,” you added, feeling your face heat up as Bakugou clenched his jaw.
“Whatever, go get on Peach, don’t wanna hear you complain if you get a saddle sore,” Bakugou snapped before glaring back at Kirishima.
You rolled your eyes, “I ride in shorts all the time, I’ll be fine.” That part was true, but you were more worried about your hangover. You haven't eaten yet, not like you could stomach food right now, but bouncing around on a pony was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Tough isn’t she?” Kirishima said as he squeezed your side with a big hand before letting you go. He was still looking at Bakugou with that nasty smirk that was only growing larger by the second.
Your eyes widened in shock as Kirishima chuckled before giving your bum a harsh smack as you walked past him. “Kirishima,” you harshly whispered, as your whole body seemed to become aflame with embarrassment.
He shrugged, “I like those shorts.”
You didn’t even dare to look up at Bakugou who you sure was mocking you. With a disgruntled sigh, you walked past Bakugou and towards Peach who looked pissed to be tacked up.
—------
“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” Bakugou snapped once you were out of earshot.
Kirishima smiled, “what? She’s a catch, can’t let that slip through my fingers, man.” He gave Bakugou another knowing smirk before he shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “She’s pretty wild too, ya know.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes, “I don’t wanna hear it.”
Kirishima shrugged, “wasn’t plannin’ on tellin’ ya anything.”
Bakugou huffed, turning his head away from Kirishima who started laughing again. “Fuckin’ prick.”
“What? I’m just havin’ fun, she is too. Just relax man,” Kirishima shot back.
—-----
Once you reached Peach you were surprised to see how well she looked for being so old. Granted she was always a cute pony, about 14.1 hands, and had a kind eye. However, you knew better so you approached her nicely, trying to tune out the two men arguing behind you.
“Hi pretty girl, you gonna be good for me today?” you said as you patted her neck.
Peach’s ears swiveled towards you and she gave you a soft nicker, which in your book was pretty good. Perhaps you would be okay. Honestly, the way this morning was going, you’d be surprised if it could get any worse.
With a sigh, you untied her reins from the fence and put them over her head. With a small bit of struggling you managed to pull your tired body into the saddle and let out a breath as you got comfortable. “Okay, soft hands,” you told yourself as you moved Peach away from the fence.
You figured you go on and walk over to Bakugou, but it appeared Peach had a different idea. In your tired mind, you weren’t sure what happened but you might have pulled back on the reins just a tad when she picked up the pace. Instead of her stopping, she took off with a screech so full of anger you instantly woke up scrambling to find your seating. “Oh shit,” you yelped as she turned her head and shot you the gnarliest glare a horse has ever given you.
“Use your body to stop her!” Bakugou shouted as he kicked his stallion to chase after you.
You furrowed your brows as Peach started to buck, squealing and huffing while you tried to tighten your abs and deepen your seat to get her to slow down and stop. Although it seemed like she had it out for you now. “Not working!” you shouted back, suppressing a groan as the horn of the saddle struck you in the stomach.
“Damn it Y/n, she’s a fuckin’ pony, just ride!” Bakugou sneered from next to you as his stallion flared his nostrils, not exactly happy to be next to the bucking old pony.
“I am!” you snapped back as one of your boots came out of the stirrup. Of course, Bakugou would put you on the pony from hell. He probably thought it would be funny watching you struggle. With gritted teeth you grabbed the reins and pulled Peach’s head up from her chest to stop her bucking and kicked her forward, making the pony start to gallop now instead of bucking.
“Easy, easy,” you hissed as you held your hand up by her neck, trying to keep your hands soft so she would calm down. After a few laps around the arena, Peach started to slow down until she came to a stop near Kirishima who was looking rather entertained.
“Phew, she’s a fuckin’ bitch, but gotta love her, huh,” Kirishima said as he patted the pony’s neck, “gotta nice seat too, darlin’, you could be a good bronc rider, ya know?”
You managed to give him a wobbly smile as you tried to control your nausea. “Thanks.”
“Hmm,” Kirishima looked at his watch, “I better get goin’, but thanks for the show. Catch ya later?”
You nodded, unsure as to why he would want to see you again considering everything that just happened since you had woken up this morning. “See ya,” you said, watching the tall redhead saunter back to his truck and peel out of the ranch, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
“Wonder you made it this far,” Bakugou’s voice cut in, “you ride like shit.”
It felt like ice had run down your spine at his words. He told you the same thing three years ago after his stallion kicked yours. “What did you say?”
“I said,” Bakugou began, nostrils flaring with anger, “it’s a wonder you made it this far.”
You locked your gaze with his feeling your temper flare something fierce. It was almost like every nerve in your body became ablaze with fire. He was watching you stew, getting ready to feel the wrath of your venomous words that were on the tip of your tongue. Your blood was practically boiling and you opened your mouth to call him something vile, but beneath that anger, you came to quickly realize you were feeling shame.
You were ashamed.
Ashamed that you weren’t as good of a rider as you thought, and despite all the hard work you’ve been putting in you haven’t been able to catch up. Even three years ago when everything you knew hung on the edge of a knife, you would have lost because Izuku would have won, and in fact he deserved to win and so did Bakugou.
Shame was then closely followed by guilt and you felt your anger morph into a sickly feeling that was sitting like a heavy stone in your stomach. It made your limbs heavy and your bottom lip wobbly as the blame you placed on Bakugou for years came crashing down on you.
You were the reason you weren’t able to keep your father’s ranch, his legacy. It wasn’t Bakugou’s fault. You still blamed him for Izuku’s accident, but you couldn’t keep blaming him for something you lost yourself.
“You’re right,” you said finally, your voice was small.
Bakugou did a double-take. What did you say? You were agreeing with his insult? “Huh?”
You sighed and pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes as your fragile little world crashed down around you, “you heard me.”
Then Bakugou huffed, watching you slump in the saddle like a lesson kid who just got told her lesson pony didn’t belong to her. “Quit moping and ride, dumbass. I got shit to do.”
You shot him a glare, still very much upset, but that didn’t mean you liked Bakugou any more than you used to. “I’m stayin’ for thirty more minutes and I’m not comin’ back here again.”
“Fine by me, princess,” Bakugou sneered, clearly annoyed with you. “Probably do poor Peach a favor not havin’ you bounce around on her back.”
“Oh fuck off,” you shot back, “says the guy who has his horse do all the work for him.” That was a lie, he was a great rider, but you needed to have the last word. So you urged Peach forward and began running your pattern around the arena, trying to keep your hands soft.
—------------
After your lesson with Bakugou, the next week or so something inside of you seemed to change. You weren’t as excited to ride and you found yourself putting off training more and more. In fact, you were avoiding it so much that you decided to start jogging in the morning.
You hated jogging, it was terrible and your poor knees felt like they were gonna tear every time you took a step, but it seemed to be better than going back into the arena and facing the ugly monster called shame.
Your dog, however, loved that you started to run. He easily kept in stride with you as you ran down the road. A few more horrendous minutes passed and you came to a stop, panting as you wiped sweat from your forehead.
It was still early enough to where you could see the sunrise start to creep above the horizon, illuminating the country with a soft glow that you loved to watch. In fact, your fondest memories were when you watched the sunrise with your dad. You both would be tired and sweaty from hauling hay and alfalfa around the ranch to your horses and grain to the cows. The best part was that by the time you finished the sun would be rising.
You both would carry your tired bodies to the front step of the house and you’d plop down, almost ready to fall back asleep. Your dad would go back into your house, and you watch him through the dusty window. He’d press two fingers against his lips and then place it on the photo of your mom by the doorway and then disappear into the kitchen. He would return with a cup of lukewarm coffee for him and a glass of orange juice for you.
You’d both sit on the steps of the porch in silence watching as dawn turned into morning and admire how much the sky changed from deep purples to pink, and then to a clear blue.
You missed him dearly, and you missed your ranch, the home you grew up in. The home that held your last memories of your mom and your dad.
“Damn it,” you muttered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. It had been years since you last cried. You refused to let yourself cry since you lost the ranch, it didn’t seem fair that you got to be sad about something you caused.
But it was too late, the dam had burst and you were standing smack dab in the middle of a back dirt road crying as the sun rose.
You were so lost in your tears and sniffles that you failed to see that there was a loose horse trotting down the road, and you didn’t even notice when it stopped in front of you snorting as it started to inspect you.
You hiccuped, wiping tears from your cheeks as you looked up to see the horse in front of you. Of course, it was a fuckin’ roan, “of course,” you laughed coldly. You wiped your eyes again as you inspected the horse and quickly came to realize that this horse wasn’t just any horse, it was Bakugou’s prized stallion Dynamight.
“What are you doing out here?” you asked as you grabbed a fistful of his black mane and looked around for any sign of Bakugou. You knew that he would be losing his damn mind to find that his horse was missing.
You whistled to your dog to keep up as you walked down the road from where Dynamight came from. It was starting to get secluded and thick with trees and other foliage. “Got a summer home?” you asked the stallion, trying to pull yourself out of your rotten mood. “No?” you said aloud again, shaking your head at yourself.
After a good fifteen-minute walk you came up to a house. It was modest, newly built, but definitely a ranch-style home. In the driveway was Bakugou’s huge black truck and what you assumed was Cami’s red sedan.
There was a single pasture and small barn off to the side of the house where you could see a few other horses including Peach who raised her head to look at you. “Well, you probably have a special place to go,” you said aloud again, knowing there was no way Bakugou would place his stallion in with other horses, especially mares.
You looked around again, letting your gaze take in his property, there was a small garden in the yard as well as some chairs by a fire pit. Further in the distance by the barn was another pasture that you could see had a small pond behind it. It was empty and the gate was wide open, “nice place,” you muttered as you headed towards the back pasture.
However, just as you passed the front door it came flying open and you could hear shouts from inside, causing Dynamight to spook and step on your foot. “Oh shit,” you hissed as you pushed on his shoulder to get him to move off.
Suddenly Cami came flying out of the door, hauling a bag behind her as she pointed her finger at Bakugou who was chasing after her. He had clearly just rolled out of bed as he was only in his boxers.
“Don’t you dare!” Cami hissed, “I don’t wanna hear it anymore, Katsuki!”
“Yeah? Then tell me who the fuckin’ guy on your phone was!” Bakugou shouted, his voice cracking at the end.
“I told you, he’s just a friend! If you can’t get that through your fucking thick skull then I’m not sticking around!” Cami shouted as she fumbled for her car keys.
You gulped, trying to hide behind Dynamight who had begun grazing. They seemed to not notice you until your dog made an untimely appearance and shot past you towards Bakugou and Cami, barking and wagging his fluffy tail.
Two sets of eyes snapped to you as you peaked over Dynamights back at both Cami and Bakugou, “Hi, um-”
“Shut the fuck up,” Cami snarled at you, her face turning bright red with anger, “you wanna give me shit about my guy friends, yet you have her show up! Real classy, Katsuki!”
“I don’t know why in the fuck she’s s here!” Bakugou shouted, ignoring your dog who had now run into his house. “Don’t think you can turn this on me, just a fuckin’ friend. Last time I checked you don’t fuck a friend!”
Cami froze, eyes wide as she let her hand drop from the door handle of her car. Her face was now pale and she looked almost sick.
Bakugou narrowed his eyes, “yeah, I saw the photos you sent him and the messages.”
Cami gulped and then shook her head, “you know, fine, I did, but only because I never felt anything real with you Katsuki! You always put your damn job before us! Your ego to be number one? What about me! I was there for you this whole time and you never even saw me!”
You bit the inside of your cheek, you should leave, this was way too personal for you to be hearing. So as they continued to argue and shout you quietly slipped away to the back pasture. It was sort of shocking to see that Bakugou and Cami were in the middle of breaking up, everyone thought they were the perfect couple.
They had met at the championship show last year, she was the photographer for the event and she took his winning photos. You liked Cami too, she was always nice to you and gave Bakugou a hard time for picking on you.
With a sigh you let Dynamight back into his pasture and shut the gate behind you, wincing as you tried to keep weight off your foot. It was probably just badly bruised, hopefully.
You heard him before you actually saw Bakugou racing towards you, now with a pair of sweatpants on. “Don’t think-”
“Shut your mouth, the hell were you doin’ with my horse?” he snapped as he roughly grabbed your shoulder and pulled you around to face him.
You furrowed your brow and pushed his hand off your shoulder, “excuse me? What was I doing? Saving him! He was running down the road about fifteen minutes away from here.”
Bakugou scoffed, he was pissed, but you didn’t miss that his eyes were starting to water, “you think I believe that?”
You laughed bitterly but decided that he was probably just upset that Cami cheated on him and presumably left. The last thing you needed to do was irritate him more, so you took a deep breath and cooled off. That was new for you. “Look, you’re upset and I’m sorry, really. Someone must have accidentally left his gate open and he got out-”
Bakugou lifted his hand and jabbed his finger into your shoulder roughly, “Accident? I don’t have any accidents.”
You pushed his hand away from you again, feeling your frustration grow again, “it’s fine, really, all that matters is that he’s back-”
“You think I’m stupid, huh?” Bakugou began, he was practically shaking in front of you from how angry he was, “probably did somethin’ to him to get back to me.” His gaze cut away from you to his horse.
“Are you kidding? I would never, that’s so low, you think I’d do that?” you said angrily, feeling hurt well up in your chest. Yeah, you were rivals, but there was a little bit of respect between the two of you, and to think he thought you’d stoop low enough to hurt his horse?
“I think you’d do anything to win back your daddy’s ranch after losin’ it,” Bakugou sneered.
“Don’t go there, Katsuki,” you said lowly, your tone dangerous as you watched his upper lip twitch in anger. “Don’t forget where that damn horse of yours came from.”
Bakugou’s anger slipped away as he watched your face contort with hurt. He had overstepped a line, and it was a big one.
Your dad had raised horses. He was fond of roans, and he had given Bakugou one of his colts to start, that colt grew up to be his prized Dynamight.
Which also meant you knew Bakugou well enough from practically growing up with him and Izuku that he meant what he was saying. He blamed you too apparently.
“I’m goin’, sorry about you and Cami,” you said dryly as you pushed past him and whistled for your dog to follow you out of Bakugou property.
—-------
A few weeks had passed since your fight with Bakugou and your motivation for riding was now at rock bottom. Toshinori had to drag you out to the arena to practice. Something you once loved had become something you dreaded.
“C’mon Y/n, just run the pattern, and then we can stop,” Toshinori called from the center of the arena.
You sighed and patted Cowboy’s neck before urging him into a canter. It was too slow, you already knew that, but you didn’t care.
“Pick up the speed, you know this,” Toshinori said as he folded his arms across his chest. He was worried. The next qualifying show was in a week and he didn’t know if you’d be able to pull through. More importantly, he was worried about you. He was glad to see you had cooled your temper but it seemed that your passion for riding had been extinguished too.
He briefly wondered if it was his fault, and he glanced at the sky knowing his brother would be upset that you were slipping away from your dream of being number one.
“Okay, let’s take a break, you need to get out of your head, kid,” Toshinori said as he approached you. “Why don’t you go out with your friends again, maybe see that sleazy bull rider that keeps snooping around here.”
Your lips lifted into a small smile, Kirishima had kept his promise that he was gonna see you after that one night. It was nice to have him as company, but it felt off almost with him like you were trying to put a shoe on that didn’t fit. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Good, just relax, you’re doin’ great. Your hands look great too, okay?” Toshinori added as he pat you on the back.
You nodded and left your uncle to go put up Cowboy and turn him out for the rest of the day. Because it was already later in the day you were able to grab something quick to eat and get ready. Not that you wanted to, really.
It seemed like you blinked and then you were at the bar, squished between Momo and Tsu who were rapidly talking about some new band you had never heard of. You sighed, glancing between your two friends as you took a sip of your whiskey sour. It didn’t taste as good as it usually did.
Were you depressed? It sure felt like it.
“Lookin’ a little down, darlin’,” Kirishima’s voice cut into your dull thoughts.
You looked up to see Kirishima leaning against the table you were sitting at. He was dressed in his chaps and vest, he must be up first for bull riding again. “I’m okay.”
“Bakugou says that your uncle has been callin’ him nonstop, sayin’ that you aren’t riding anymore,” Kirishima said, raising a crimson eyebrow.
You gave him a meek smile, “yeah, just haven’t been feelin’ it, but I’ll come back to it. I always do.”
“Mkay, hate seein’ those pretty lips all pouty,” Kirishima said as he moved around the table to pull you away from your friends, “you gonna watch me tonight?”
You smiled as you rested your hand on his lower abdomen, feeling the rough material of his vest against your fingers. “Of course, sure you’ll be number one, Kiri.”
Kirishima grinned, “oh for sure I'll be, but I think I need a kiss from you for good luck.”
You rolled your eyes and stood on your toes to press your lips into his. He tasted like beer and smoke, probably from the cigar you saw him smoking with Sero earlier.
“Yup, think I’ll go win now,” Kirishima said as he pulled away from you and gave your cheek a pat. He let his gaze rest on a very drunk Bakugou who had been watching with glossy eyes. “Gimme one more though, just for extra luck.”
“Alright,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes, now smiling as you pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
Kirishima grinned looking back away from Bakugou and to you, “thanks, darlin’.”
You smiled as you watched Kirishima saunter through the crowd that parted for him like the red sea. There was no doubt that he carried a lot of charisma and charm, everyone liked him. Except for Toshinori.
“Can you get me another jack and coke when you go back to the bar,” Momo asked as she looked at your empty drink in your hands, “which should be now?”
You snorted, “yeah yeah, next time you’re goin.”
Momo ruffled your hair making you grumble as you walked to the bar. Only a few people were at the bar now since everyone had moved to the arena to watch the bull riders. With a sigh, you slid into an empty seat next to someone who had his head in his hands.
“Can I have a jack and coke and a whiskey sour please?” you asked the bartender over the roar of the crowd.
“Tell your uncle to stop callin’ me,” Bakugou slurred from next to you.
You were actually shocked to see that the drunk guy next to you was Bakugou. Honestly, he looked unrecognizable from beneath his black hat. His red eyes were dull and he had dark circles lining his eyes. Not to mention the at least two-day scruff on his face. “You look terrible,” you said without thinking.
Bakugou snorted, the corner of his lips lifting into an empty grin, “thanks, princess.” He took a sip from his glass, hissing as the alcohol burned his throat.
You blinked as the bartender handed you both drinks, not that you were paying that much attention to them anyway, or that the bull riding was about to start. “Why is Toshinori calling you out of all people?”
Bakugou looked at you out of the corner of his eye, “he’s worried or some shit.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek as you slumped in your seat feeling the dark rain cloud over your head that had been briefly broken up by Kirishima come back. “Oh.”
Bakugou huffed as he turned his body towards yours, “why did you stop ridin’?”
You shrugged, not looking into his eyes, “not really feelin’ it anymore.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Bakugou said truthfully as he took another swig from his glass, “you out of all people ‘not feelin’ it anymore.’”
“Well it’s the truth,” you snapped back, “and what are you doin’? Sitting here and moping?”
Bakugou’s smile slipped from his face, “yeah I am.”
You rolled your eyes as you sucked down some of Momo’s drink, ignoring the announcer who was calling Kirishima’s name.
“You gonna go watch him?” Bakugou said, turning his gaze away from you.
“I probably should,” you said, but it felt like there was almost a rope tying you to Bakugou now, keeping you seated at the bar.
“Sure he’d like that,” Bakugou muttered just loud enough for you to hear. “Have his number one fangirl of the month cheerin’ for ‘em.”
“Of course, you’d have to make a dig at me,” you snapped as you set down both drinks again. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” Bakugou laughed bitterly, “I have no problems, princess. You’re the one with all the issues goin’ on.”
You narrowed your eyes, “the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh like no one has noticed the only reason you’ve been pushing so hard is to regain your honor or some shit,” Bakugou answered hotly, his words were slurring together, “the truth is sweetheart is that you’ll never be able to fill your daddy’s boots and you don’t even know it.”
“You fucking asshole,” you hissed, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “you don’t think I know that, Katsuki? I’m painfully aware that I am never going to be as good of a rider as you or Izuku, but at least I tried. At least I didn’t go around gettin’ in people's heads. If you didn’t tell Izuku all those things before his run, maybe he’d still be able to walk.”
Bakugou abruptly stood from his seat, the stool landed loudly on the floor gathering the attention of a few people. “Take that back.”
“No,” you hissed, “just like I know I’ll never get that fuckin’ ranch back or my fuckin’ honor, you know that you had some part in Izuku’s accident.”
This fight had been brewing for years and your rivalry had been running downhill fast into becoming enemies.
“You can be a real fuckin’ bitch, Y/n, you know that? Hope you have a fun time fuckin’ shitty hair, your daddy would be ashamed of you,” Bakugou hissed as he slammed down a twenty and left the bar.
—------
They say the line between love and hate is thin, that was bullshit. How could you ever love someone you hate?
It had been a month since that fight you had with Bakugou in the bar. That night you had gone home alone, crying, as your repressed shame and guilt came to a head, again. It was pretty awful after that, you managed to push everyone away until your close friends insisted on trying to help you, which they did.
Somewhat.
There was a bit of an empty feeling in your chest that no matter how hard you tried you couldn't figure out how to fill it. Maybe it was always empty though and now you were aware of the hole.
At least Toshinori ran your competition for you and got first, it was the horse that was more important after all.
“You ready Y/n?” Tsu said from next to you. She was looking down at you with mild concern. It had taken her some convincing but she had planned a trail ride for your birthday that was in a few days. Maybe she was hoping that you’d regain your spark for riding again.
You nodded, smiling as you got onto Cowboy, “yeah, let's go. Hopefully it doesn’t rain, those clouds look a little weird,” you said as you glanced into the distance. There were large black clouds gathering and the air was starting to get heavy with the scent of rain.
Tsu shrugged, “oh well, don’t you have that little fort you built with Izuku and Bakugou somewhere in these woods? We could go there if it starts raining.”
You furrowed your brows, you had honestly forgotten about the little fort you had built with Izuku and with Bakugou actually. It almost came as a small shock to you that there was a time all three of you were friends as children. You’ve been so angry at Bakugou for so long that it was easy to forget your time together growing up. “Yeah, I can’t really remember where it is though.”
“Well I’m not riding if it’s gonna rain,” Momo said with a huff, looking a little uncomfortable on your uncle's red gelding.
You smiled, “oh you’ll be fine Momo. It adds to the experience, maybe you’ll want to start riding?”
Momo snorted as she adjusted herself in the saddle, “I don’t think so.”
You shook your head as you followed Tsu down the trail. You were riding in the woods that were behind Toshinori’s ranch. The woods were shared by four properties, your dad’s old ranch, Toshinori’s ranch, Crimson Ranch, and Bakugou’s.
It was beautiful really, the forest was full of large old trees, and plenty of creeks, and now that it was spring there were hundreds of wildflowers. You inhaled, letting your shoulders relax as you walked down the trail.
As you continued your ride you were able to see some flashes of your childhood come to mind. A big log you passed was where you and Izuku brought popsicles out to share during a hot summer day, or the creek you crossed was where you and Bakugou waded through the water trying to catch minnows.
When the three of you were closest as friends it was when you were about ten. Toshinori had just taken the three of you under his wing for lessons, and that’s when you remembered that Bakugou’s first horse was Peach.
You blinked as a memory resurfaced.
“Aw c’mon, let me and Izu ride her!” you said loudly pushing some stray hairs out of your mouth.
Bakugou shook his head, looking rather smug up on his new show pony, “no way, Peach only likes me.”
Izuku giggled, patting Peach’s cheek as she nuzzled his shoulder with her mouth, “I think she likes me, Kacchan.”
“She just thinks you stink,” Bakugou snapped as he kicked Peach’s sides rather roughly to get her to move out of the way. However, true to a lesson horse's nature she stood still, looking somewhat annoyed at her tiny rider.
“That’s enough kids,” Your father said as he walked up to the three of you, hauling Izuku’s and your ponies behind him. “We’ve got big things to do today according to Toshi.”
You and Izuku raced over to your ponies and easily got on, barely staying still in the saddles as Toshinori rode out into the arena on his famous stud All Might. All Might was probably the biggest horse you have ever seen and was a deep golden yellow with a mane and tail as white as the clouds above your head.
“You three ready to work?” Toshinori asked, chuckling as the three of you nodded eagerly.
“Y/n!” Tsu’s shrill voice cut into your thoughts.
You blinked and then saw Momo race past you, screaming as she clung to the back of her saddle. “Momo!” you shouted and noticed a trio of deer prancing by. Her horse must have spooked. “Shoot, Tsu try to go around the creek to see if her horse runs home if she falls off, I’ll follow her up to the field,” you said quickly.
You didn’t wait for Tsu to answer before you cantered away from her and after Momo. The wind was starting to pick up as you broke through the tree line and into the field. In the distance, you could see Momo just about to fall off her horse.
“Momo! Don’t hang on, just try to get your foot out of the stirrup!” you shouted at her as you sped up towards her. You winced as Momo hit the ground with a groan. Her horse spooked again and took off into the forest while you got off, rushing to Momo’s side. “Are you okay?”
Momo grumbled, pushing herself up into a sitting position, “just fine, don’t ever take me on a trail ride again.”
You snorted, “I won’t, we’ll go out on the boat instead.”
Momo gave you a wobbly smile as she stood to her feet and brushed dirt and grass off of her jeans, “well I guess your uncle's “bulletproof” horse ran off, do you think he’s lost?”
Your face heated up at her comment, honestly, the horse you put her on was super broke and old. Momo just had bad luck with riding today it seemed, “yeah it’s alright, I’ll find him, you’re more important though.”
“How are we gonna get back?” she asked, looking back behind her. The three of you had been riding for about two hours and the walk back would be pretty miserable.
You frowned as you pulled out your phone and held it up, you had a missed call from Tsu. Your phone buzzed and a text came through from her, she was back near the barn already, and didn’t find Momo’s horse. You sighed, “well I guess you can get up on Cowboy and we can head back.”
Momo nodded and was about to get onto Cowboy when stopped, “looks like we aren’t the only ones out here.”
You looked past Momo to see that Bakugou and Kirishima were racing across the field and they both came to a sharp stop arguing about who had won their race before Kirishima noticed you and Momo. They exchanged some words before heading right towards you. It was almost shocking to see that Kirishima’s draft horse was keeping up with Bakugou.
Upon seeing Bakugou, your rival, well, whatever he is now after a month it felt weird. The words he said to you resurfaced and you bit the inside of your cheek. Your shoulders rose in mild discomfort as they came to a stop in front of you and Kirishima instantly got off his horse and walked towards you and Momo.
“Y’all okay?” he asked with mild concern as he looked both of you over.
“My horse threw me and ran off,” Momo said with a heavy sigh, “we were about to head back.”
“What about the horse?” Bakugou spoke up. He was still on his horse, resting his hand on his thigh while the other loosely held his reins.
“I was gonna head out after him once I got Momo back to the barn,” you said, keeping your gaze away from Bakugou.
“I can take Momo back, my horse can take the extra rider better than Cowboy,” Kirishima said, “plus, he’s gotta win a championship soon anyway.”
You rolled your eyes playfully at Kirishima, “alright, just be careful. Don’t think Momo wants to fall off for a second time.”
Momo scoffed as she looked up at Kirishima’s gigantic horse, “especially not from that height.”
“Don’t worry, Rocky is a good boy, he doesn’t even buck when I try to get ‘em to,” Kirishima said with a hearty laugh as his gaze slid over to Bakugou who had grown quiet, “you should help Y/n look for Momo’s horse, at least before it starts raining.”
Bakugou’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise. “I guess,” he replied, letting his surprise settle into something you couldn’t pin.
Kirishima smiled and patted the side of your cheek, “don’t let his rotten mood get to ya darlin’. All he needs is a good pick me up, ya know?”
You furrowed your brows in confusion. What did that mean? Honestly, you’d rather go look for Momo’s horse with Kirishima, then you could maybe try to get a better read on what he thought about you, or maybe you were just upset that Bakugou was right about Kirishima’s fangirl of the month comment.
In all honesty, the bull rider had been pulling away from you slowly over the last week or so. It didn’t bug you that much because you weren’t anything, but you were a bit upset at the loss of what could have been.
You sighed as you watched Kirishima help Momo get back on his horse and he followed suit, giving you and Bakugou another one of his famous smiles before setting off back towards the forest.
“I think he went this way,” you said dully as you got back onto Cowboy and pointed towards the forest on the opposite end of the field.
Bakugou nodded, deciding to keep quiet as he rode behind you.
It was awkward, to say the least. There was an angry tension between both of you. You both had said some terrible things to each other that night at the bar and it was obvious both of you felt at least somewhat guilty.
The rain clouds were beginning to gather above your head now, rumbling with thunder and threatening to drop the water within them. You looked up above you, squinting as a few raindrops started to fall, and then the sky opened.
“We shouldn’t ride in this,” Bakugou said loudly above the rain, “can’t have him slip,” he said referring to Dynamight.
As much as you hated to agree with him, he was right. The ground was quickly becoming muddy and both of you needed sound horses. “Okay, should we head back?”
Bakugou shook his head, looking around the woods till something seemed to catch his eye, “nah, look. That shitty fort is still standing.”
You narrowed your eyes, trying to see what he was looking at through the rain. You blinked a few times and then the fort he was talking about came into focus. It was a bit overgrown, but you could stay there till the rain died down a bit.
Bakugou rode past you and led the way to the fort. You could see the log you dragged to tie your ponies at was still there too. As you got closer to the fort you were met with a nostalgic feeling of when times were simpler, and things weren’t so complicated.
You both came to a stop and dismounted your horses and tied them to the log, quickly taking the saddles and pads off before they got too wet. As you hauled your saddle and pad into the fort you noticed the wheel marks in the dirt, Izuku must still visit here, and it made your heart ache.
The fort remained almost unchanged from the last time you saw it. There were dusty blankets stuffed into a corner by some pillows you had stolen from your old house. A feed bucket sat by the window catching stray raindrops while an action figure of a superhero still was seated on the makeshift window sill.
A few of Bakugou’s comics were strewn across the floor, now discolored and torn. You could see your stack of books by your little corner of the fort as well as your favorite stuffy that you thought you had lost.
Without much thought you set down your saddle and moved over towards your corner and grabbed a book from the top of the stack. You ran your fingers down the spine of the book, gathering some dust on the tip of your finger. “This was a good book,” you said aloud mostly to yourself.
Bakugou huffed as he sat down against the wall, crossing his legs at his ankles as he watched you mull around the tiny handmade cabin. “You were always stuffin’ books and shit in the walls. Probably why that old hag at the library hated you.”
You shot him a playful glare as you sat down across from him, “well they were all horse books and I doubt she really cared.”
“Right,” Bakugou said as he watched you thumb through the pages. There was a pause in the conversation before he spoke up again, “I heard your uncle ran for you at the last show.”
You paused, looking up at Bakugou, “he still callin’ you?”
Bakugou shrugged and looked away from you, “no.”
You furrowed your brows, if your uncle wasn’t calling him then who was? Then it struck you. Izuku must have reached out to him. While you’ve been so hyper focused on avoiding riding all together you failed to notice Izuku keeping a watchful eye on you. He always has. “It was Izuku, wasn't it.”
Bakugou nodded, “yeah.”
You sighed as you set the book down and leaned against the wall, the wood creaked under your weight. “What did he say?”
Bakugou ran a hand through his wet hair before looking at you, “he asked me if I knew anything about it, I told him I didn’t. I haven't seen you in a month.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek, a terrible habit, but it was something you did when you were uncomfortable. You were uncomfortable because for a moment it sounded like Bakugou was worried too, just for a second. “Suprised he called you,” you finally said.
Bakugou looked away from you, looking frustrated. “He knows I care at least on some level.”
“You care?” you snorted, “that’s funny.”
Bakugou’s gaze shot back to you and he narrowed his eyes, “of course I care-”
“Don’t tell me you’ve cared this whole time,” you began cutting him off as you started to breathe more heavily. “How could you, after everything you’ve said to me. Don’t even get me started Katsuki-”
“What about what you’ve said!” Bakugou quickly countered back as he stood up, the top of his head was practically flush with the ceiling. “Blamin’ me for Izuku’s accident, you know I never wanted anything to happen to him, or to you!”
“Then why do you act like this,” you said, your voice was starting to shake. “Why did you turn so cold and mean, Katsuki. Once you got that damn horse of yours six years ago when we were seventeen you changed, and not for the better.”
Bakugou’s face was starting to turn red with anger, and his eyes held a certain rage that you were shocked to see. “I’ve alwasy been like this.”
You shook your head, “no you haven’t! Izuku and I, damn it, we missed you,” you admitted, feeling that hole in your chest start to feel a little less empty at your confession. “Izuku still misses you, Katsuki. He still comes here, just look at the damn floor.”
Bakugou looked down to see that Izuku’s wheel chair had left marks in the dirt that's been gathering in the fort for years. “He’s always been a sap,” he said bitterly.
“So fuckin’ what! Are you even listening!” you shouted as you suddenly grabbed at his shirt, “don’t tell me you don’t miss how things used to be, we were friends, rivals too and it was good, it was fun! Then it all went to shit and we started hating each other, why?”
“Why?” Bakugou said, his deep voice was starting to waver too, “because it has always been you two, always.”
You rolled your eyes, “don’t tell me this is just because you were jealous of Izuku and I? That’s bullshit, Katsuki and you know it. We never left you out. In fact we looked up to you, and I know you knew that.”
Bakugou looked away from you again, he was trying to step back, away from you. You were too close.
“Don’t you dare walk away,” you hissed, fighting your tears.
“I’m done,” he said lowly.
“No you’re not,” you snapped as you stepped into his space, “you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to tell me that bullshit and expect that I’ll believe it.”
“Just stop,” Bakugou almost pleaded, “look I’m sorry for what I said at the bar, it was shitty for me to do-”
“Katsuki, please,” you said, your voice was heavy with desperation. You weren’t even sure why you were pushing him so hard for the truth, just hours ago he was your worst enemy but in this fort, your inner child was crying for her best friend.
Bakugou swallowed thickly, his eyes shot back to you then to the wall before they settled back on you again. “I-” he cleared his throat, “I couldn’t be around you, not after your dad died. He gave me that colt -Dynamight- that was his legacy and he should have been yours. Then you lost the ranch and Izuku got paralyzed - it was my fault. If I never got that horse, never won, never tried to get in Izuku’s head, none of that would have happened. I couldn’t be around you, or Izuku. Every time I’d see your faces I felt like complete shit, so I pushed you both away.”
You stayed quiet, watching as Bakugou clenched and unclenched his jaw after confessing to you. It was almost ironic hearing how Bakugou felt because you felt that everything was your fault too. “That’s not your fault,” you said softly, “I lost the ranch, just me.
And my dad loved you, he wanted you to have one of his colts. It’s why he gave Izuku one too. He wanted you to have Dynamight, Katsuki. I think he’d be really proud of how well one of his colts has done, and of you too. I’m sorry I blamed you for Izuku too, I shouldn’t have, I just,” you shook your head, “was jealous I think. Wanted to make you out to be the bad guy, just so I didn’t have to see the truth myself.”
Bakugou nodded, seeming to accept your words. He glanced down at your hand still gripping his damp shirt and then to your tear-stained cheeks, “is that why you quit riding?”
You nodded, “I feel ashamed to even try anymore, I guess.”
“You shouldn’t quit, princess,” Bakugou said softly, “your dad wouldn’t want that, I know Toshinori and Izuku don’t want that either, and I don’t too.”
You gave him a wobbly smile, that hole in your chest was slowly mending itself and you felt lighter. The room seemed brighter too, not as grey as it used to be. “Thank you.”
Bakugou gave you a quick nod and broke his eye contact with you. He felt lighter too, but he still was feeling weighed down by the weight of his thoughts. He moved slow, lifting his hand to pull you away from him, out of his bubble so he could breathe.
You furrowed your brows as Bakugou pulled your hand off of his shirt and looked past you and out the window. It was still raining and turning dark now. Which meant it was going to get colder too.
“Think we’re gonna have to spend the night here,” Bakugou said as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. It buzzed loudly and he sighed, “flash flood warning, Kirishima also said Toshi’s damn horse showed up just as they got back.”
“That would happen," you said as you walked past Bakugou to look at your horses tied outside. They were both under a tree standing a few feet apart looking somewhat miserable, “think they’ll be okay?”
Bakugou came up behind you, grabbing the top of the old windowsill as he popped his head outside to look at the horses, “they should be, pretty sure we built this piece of shit cabin or fort, whatever the hell it is, on a hill.”
You nodded, that sounded right, “yeah, let's hope.”
Bakugou muttered something under his breath as he took a step back heading to the other side of the small cabin. The floorboards creaked loudly and he grinned, “well we can pass the time with this,” he said as he yanked up the floorboard next to him revealing some alcohol.
“No way, you snuck alcohol in here?” you asked, shaking your head as he opened the bottle of tequila and took a hefty swig.
He hissed at the burn before handing you the bottle, “yeah, snuck some in here years ago, can’t remember what for.” That was a lie, he brought his prom date back to this cabin a couple of times.
You took the bottle and winced as the tequila burned your throat. “That’s terrible, this is the cheap stuff.”
Bakugou chuckled as he took the bottle back and took another swig while he turned on an old camping lantern that was set on a cardboard box. “It’s not too bad.”
“It’s bad,” you countered as you sat back down and pulled out your phone. You frowned, there was no reception for you, guess it was good that Bakugou’s phone got reception. A few minutes of silence passed between you as you shared the old bottle of tequila. It was obviously watered down, but it still gave you a good buzz.
“Cowboy’s got a few foals comin’ this year right?” Bakugou asked, breaking the silence.
You looked towards him and nodded, “a few, Cowboy makes good babies,” you said proudly.
Bakugou snorted, “more like ugly babies.”
“Take that back,” you snapped, “Dynamight has ugly babies, they all have huge heads like him.”
Bakugou frowned, “at least he has better stops than Cowboy.”
“Well Cowboy has a smoother lope than Dynamight,” you shot back
“You’ve never even ridden him,” Bakugou countered.
You snorted, “whatever, I can tell, that’s because I’ve been riding longer than you.”
“Only by a month, plus we all know I’m the better rider,” Bakugou said, but then he froze, eyes wide with worry that he said the wrong thing, hurt whatever small bit of normalcy you both had created here.
If this had happened last month you would have gone for his jugular, seething, and spitting. However, things were different now, you had some answers, and you were more sure of yourself. “Only sometimes,” you said with a small smile, “plus I’m gonna catch up to you, take your spot as number one.”
Bakugou returned your smile, and his shoulders relaxed, “you can try, princess.”
You rolled your eyes, “just wait, got that workshop comin' up next week, and we’re gonna easily take your spot. Then there will be pretty Cowboy foals everywhere you look, Kats.”
Bakugou laughed, it was warm and made you almost forget how cold the small cabin was starting to get now that the sun was gone. He shook his head, letting his gaze meet yours. In the time you two were bantering you and him had moved closer, so close that he could see that your hair was starting to dry at the ends, and that funny shaped scar you had on your collar bone when you got thrown in a gate.
He took another swig from the bottle, feeling it warm him as he took you in again.
You froze, why was he staring at you? You watched his red gaze travel down your body and occasionally flick back to your eyes or your parted lips. “What?” you said, a little breathless.
Bakugou shrugged as he set the bottle down, it was loud, making you jump.
You blinked, still confused, “what?” you asked again. His tanned skin was starting to flush from the alcohol and he ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. You swallowed thickly as an unpure thought ran through your mind, at first you were horrified that you even had a thought about Bakugou like that. But then you looked at him again, and for the first time, you realized how pretty he was.
In fact, he was stunning.
Tall and built, strong from working on the ranch all day, tanned from being in the sun. His hair was soft, and light at the top but his undercut was darker and needed to be shaved down again. There were a few freckles that ran over the bridge of his nose, and his lips were full and pink, and soft.
Lightning struck outside making you jump a little before you turned your attention back to him. He was watching you again, his pupils were blown, almost covering the rest of his red iris’.
“Ya know,” Bakugou’s voice was raspy and low, just quiet enough for you to hear, “I always thought you were pretty.”
That was all it took for you two to rush into each other embrace, he was tugging you onto his lap, running his hands through your hair, across your cheek, down your back. He finally settled on keeping a hand on the side of your jaw and the other on your hip as he pressed his lips against yours.
A whine escaped you as he roughly nipped your lip before he started to lift the bottom of your shirt up. His hands were rough and warm against your bare skin as you lifted your arms up as your shirt slipped past your head, and he threw it off to the side. He ran his hands back down your side and over your bra, practically tearing it in half.
“Katsuki,” you somewhat scolded, out of breath as your now torn bra fell to the ground too.
“It was in the fuckin’ way,” he growled as he roughly grabbed your jaw with one hand and pulled you against him again.
You whimpered into the kiss as you ran your fingers through his undercut, grabbing at his soft hair, and making him hiss. He pulled away from you and started to run his lips down the side of your face along the curve of your jaw, then down your neck.
His hands began to move up your stomach and to your chest, squeezing hard and making you gasp. “What?” he said breathlessly against the side of your neck, suppressing a smile, “that hurt?”
You huffed, you knew he was teasing you. “Shut up,” you said as you moved your hands to pull off his shirt, making him chuckle.
Bakugou yanked off his shirt and tossed it next to yours before moving his lips back to your chest, harshly nipping at your skin, and grinning at your little whines and gasps of pain.
Your hands headed straight towards his belt, and you hastily undid the buckle and pulled it through the loops of his jeans. Once you got it off you were suddenly caught off guard as he quickly wrapped a thick arm around your waist and flipped you both over.
You let out a breath as he roughly yanked your hands above your head and pinned them to the floor. A wicked smile graced your lips as you stared up at Bakugou, “sure you don’t want me to be on top?”
Bakugou huffed as he used his free hand to yank off your belt and pop open the front button of your jeans, “not this time, princess.”
“Not this time?” you countered, raising a brow as you lifted your hips to help him pull your jeans off. “Think this is gonna happen again, huh?” you challenged, hoping he’d get a little rougher with you.
Bakugou bared his teeth, “knew you’d be a fuckin’ brat.” He pushed your hands into the ground harder, making you wince as he promptly threw your jeans and panties to the side, leaving you bare beneath him.
You smiled, about to say something smart back when he suddenly ran two fingers through your slit, making a soft whine escape past your lips.
“You know how I know this is gonna happen again,” Bakugou harshly whispered into your ear as he brought two fingers down to your entrance and pushed them in, making you gasp loudly and your hips jerk up. “Because you’re fuckin’ dripping for me, princess.”
You bit your lip hard as he started to move his fingers, making you squirm. You wanted to be able to touch him too, run your hands down his chest, over his shoulders, feel the muscles in his back ripple.``Lemme go, wanna touch you too” you panted, wiggling your wrists under his palm.
“No,” Bakugou snapped as he pressed his thumb down hard on your clit, hard, grinning when you let out a long keen.
You could feel him grinding into your thigh with every pump of his fingers in you, and you were starting to become desperate, writhing against him. You could feel yourself start to tighten up and you pushed it away, not wanting him to know how good he was with just his fingers, “c’mon,” you hissed, tears starting to well up in your eyes as he started to rub tighter circles around your clit with his thumb.
Bakugou chucked meanly, “aw, you already gonna cum, huh? Can feel ya, sqeezein’ my fingers.”
You shook your head, growing frustrated that he was winning again. There were words just on the tip of your tongue, ready to make him break for you, but he pushed in a third finger and those words melted into another moan.
“Ya sound real pretty for me princess,” Bakugou said as he nipped at your earlobe, “bet you’ll sound even better when I fill you up with my cock.”
“Fuck,” you whined fighting back your orgasm again, but he was too good.
Bakugou was breathing hard, watching your face contort in pleasure as he kept a consistent pace. “You gonna cum, princess?” he asked, his deep voice breathy.
You nodded, grabbing at his hand that was wrapped around your wrists with yours, and digging your nails into his skin.
Bakugou grinned as your hips started to buck and just when you started to call out his name he pulled his fingers out and sat back on his heels.
You let out a frustrated cry, “the hell ?” Your body was shaking as your pleasure started to fade, leaving you frustrated and needy. Instead of answering you, you watched as he ran his tongue along the length of his fingers, and he moaned.
The sound of his voice sent a jolt through you, making you lean up on your elbows, pupils blown as he locked his gaze with you. You were breathing heavily letting your eyes wander down his bare chest, seeing the tattoos that adorned his body, down to his cock straining through his boxers turning them dark with pre. “Katsuki,” you said softly, your voice was thick with want.
He started moving back towards you with a fervor you’ve only seen a few times before. His hands were hot on your hips as he yanked you towards him and began settling down on his forearm in front of you. Another pitiful whine escaped you and he spread your legs, watching your arousal string from your parted thighs.
“Never wanted,” Bakugou panted using his thumb to get a better look at your glistening pussy, “to eat someone out so bad, fuck,” he groaned as he turned his head to bite your inner thigh.
Your legs were shaking around his shoulders as he stretched one hand up onto your stomach, grabbing at your skin, searching for a place to anchor himself as he licked a long stripe up the center of pussy, cherishing the way you shake against him.
Your hands grab at his hair, pulling softly as he starts to run his tongue around your clit, glancing up at you with hazy eyes, loving the way your chest is heaving with each broken breath. The more you whine above him the more aggressive he gets, digging his nails into your skin and taking his time to make you come undone.
“Shit,” you cried, nearly in tears again. He was too good, and honestly, at this point, it didn’t surprise you. “Wish you weren’t-” you let out a sob as he moaned against you, sending vibrations up your spine, “-so good at everything,” you said, barely able to push out the last part of your sentence.
The storm outside was growing more violent, thunder crashed above and you both didn’t notice the little feed bucket by the window was starting to overfill with water.
Bakugou let out breathy whimper when you yanked on his hair, “fuck,” he panted pulling away from you for a breif moment before going back in and sucking on your clit, hard.
You were nearly there, shaking and crying above him. All cares of wanting to beat him were the last thing on your mind. The only thing you could think about was cumming on his face, and squeezing your thighs around him.
“Go on,” Bakugou said, his voice muffled, he could tell you were close, “be a good girl and cum for me, princess.”
It felt like something in you had snapped inside of you and you let out a whine, biting your lip hard as you came. Your nerves were tingling as you shook against him. He held you down, pushing your body into the floor as he continued to suck and lick you through your high.
Once you came down, still sighing and shaking, Bakugou pulled back, licking his lips as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. Thunder rattled the handmade fort and then you both started to feel the rain.
“Shit,” Bakugou panted, wiping his eyes as the rain opened a hole in the part of the ceiling that was above you both. “C’mere,” he muttered, easily pulling up your weak body against him as he moved to the other side of the old fort.
You were almost too tired to even care about being rained on, “guess we need to fix the ceiling,” you said, glancing at Bakugou. You were definitely disappointed that the rain cock blocked you before you could have your turn with him.
Bakugou chuckled, nodding as he shrugged on his shirt and tossed you yours. He grabbed his phone checking the time and the weather quickly before standing up to shine a flashlight on your two horses still tied outside. Now they truly did look miserable. “Probably should get some sleep,” he said, clearing his throat a bit.
You nodded, grabbing your panties while he wasn’t looking and pulling them on before grabbing the old blanket in your corner of the fort. There was some sort of tension between the two of you now and it was awkward. Suddenly you wished you could bury yourself in the earth and never look at him again. “Uh, night, Kats,” you said softly, adjusting yourself under the blanket so you could lean back against your saddle.
Bakugou huffed, shaking his head as he settled next to you, “don’t hog the damn blanket, brat.”
You rolled your eyes as you held up a corner of the blanket, letting him scoot in next to you a bit, “happy now?”
“Yeah whatever, night, princess,” Bakugou replied, flipping over and dragging more of the blanket away from you.
—-----
The next morning you both acted like what happened last night did not happen, it simply did not exist. In fact, you both refused to look at each other as you got your horses ready to ride back.
At least you were able to admit that you couldn’t stop looking at him after seeing him in a new light. You felt almost creepy at how intensely you were watching him, watching his biceps bunch as he lifted his saddle onto his horse, or watching his hands. You gulped, his hands were so big and strong, and his fingers looked good covered in your slick, they'd look even better in your mouth-
You shook your head, averting your gaze away from him as you got on Cowboy. You couldn’t get involved with Bakugou, you two were rivals. Yes, you had made up last night, but going beyond anything but rivals, wouldn’t work. It couldn’t.
You needed a rival, someone to push you to work hard, and he hasn’t really been your rival for a long period of time before you two became enemies. Not to mention he really just broke up with Cami, and you frowned. Were you just a rebound?
It was for the best to just assume last night was a moment of weakness, and it wouldn’t happen again.
content: dom!mikey, unprotected sex, stockholm syndrome, use of drugs, praise kink, kidnapping, angst, non-con, mention of blood & death, restriction, self-harm, blindfolding, nicknames, toxic!mikey, forced breeding kink, mindbreak, baby trapping, obsessive behavior, implied fingering, implied oral sex (f! receiving), mention of pregnancy, dark content.
pairings: bonten!manjiro sano x fem!reader.
request. | tokyo rev. masterlist.
tw.: this written work may contain triggers about obsessive behavior, non-consensual sex, drug abuse, kidnapping, so please proceed with caution when clicking on "read more"; mikey is a walking red flag here.
It wasn't as if Manjiro was wrong, right?
No, no, his sanity was whispering that everything he did, does and will do are fruits of his love for you to be harvested. Everything Manjiro Sano did was with you in mind, only.
His obsessive behavior soaked in ecstasy for you almost pushed him to insanity and every time he felt halfway to going mad or having a mental breakdown, the first thing he would lend himself to the role of doing was desperately grabbing pictures that he had had Bonten's goons take of you on the day. You on your way to work, on the way to the university where you were already about to graduate according to Bonten's information network, on the way out to dinner or lunch with friends, on the subway sitting calmy and wearing headphones completely distracted.
It wasn't as if Manjiro was wrong, right?
No, he was not wrong to deliberately break into your house in the middle of the night wearing gloves on hands and holding a chloroform-soaked handkerchief.
He was only doing this because he was afraid that you would be caught by someone with malicious intent and that would steal everything else precious that you had; what could Manjiro do if he lost you?
You were his most precious possession, the one and only last thread of sanity holding him to this cruel world. He needed to keep you safe, away from threats, away from people who could possibly hurt you. Manjiro was your savior.
All the way there with you unconscious and lying in the backseat of Mikey's spacious car after you had woken up scared, afraid, and trying to free yourself from his grip on you in the bed, Every Breath You Take was playing.
His fingers drumming on the steering wheel and head moving side to side with the rhythm of the quiet, morbid music, Manjiro's eyes occasionally looking at your unconscious and serene body through the car mirror, and a passionate smile decorating his lips. Yes, you were his; always had been.
Y/N was Mikey's sunshine. Sunbeam like those that were lighting up the beach where he first spotted you, long ago. You were serene and calm like the waves of the sea and your smile that he admired from afar seemed brighter than any piece of pure gold or platinum in the world. You were a beautiful Harmony, he was a cruel Cadmus.
As soon as he arrived at the Bonten-dominated building that was extremely far away from the normal, innocent civilization of Tokyo, the first sequence of actions to be taken was to carry your body carefully to a bedroom that he had built and organized a long time ago, to leave you lying on the bed and soon after to exchange yours clothes for new ones, bought by him, that smelled of his fragrance.
Everything about you should remember of or come from the one who loved you the most.
Seeing you lying on the bed, fully dressed in new clothes and still looking calm and sleepy, Manjiro gave you a satisfied smile before leaning over and brushing strands of your hair away from your face, then kissing your forehead and checking the time on the cell phone in his pocket.
He needed to finish running the Bonten meeting whose main topic was the illicit drug trade they had been involved in for months.
It was okay to leave you alone for a few minutes, right? You wouldn't try to escape, right?
Mikey, by leaving the room without actually leaving the door locked, was trusting you, who immediately after waking up with a aching head and an extremely dry mouth, tried to understand where you were.
The last thing you remembered before being knocked out with drugs in your system were dark eyes like Nyx staring at you and something being pressed hard against your nose and mouth.
Soon after, no memory of any kind registered and as you felt the sheets of the bed, your body stood up in a jolt because they didn't resemble in texture those in your house. And then the pain in your head became even more latent from the sudden movement and body had to lean on the nearest wall to keep from losing your balance.
"Damn... my head, fuck... what the hell...", you thought with slowed thinking before looking around.
Even though your body was slow, still trying to wake up completely, internally you knew you were in imminent danger, especially as you ran hands over the body to see if there were any bruises and touched the light, comfortable, sweater-like dress over your silhouette. Who bought this?
It didn't matter much, you had to get out of there. Your conscience was screaming that the more time you spent standing there, unresponsive, the less time you had left to escape.
But where exactly were you? You couldn't tell even by looking through the high windows of the room; padlocked.
"Holy shit..."; no cell phone, no money.
Bet your luck, get out of the room. That's what you did, almost tripping over owns feet. Door unlocked, empty and well-lit hallway in front of you, a cold wind rushing through your body at the same moment you left the warm place where Mikey had left his pretty girl.
Silly girl.
Manjiro did not trust even his own shadow too much. So he had taken the liberty of putting motion sensors on the doorknob and doorframe. It was a matter of time before his cell phone beeped with the wireless connection of the sensors and the Bonten executives looking at him with several question marks on their faces.
— Excuse me... — Mikey whispered, dragging his chair back in front of the conference room table and pressing the button to make the sensor alarm stop beeping. — Ran kept talking about sales and business, I’ve something to fix, but it won't take much of my time. — He talked with anger beginning to run through every fiber of his body as a spiteful smile crept across his lips.
Seconds later Manjiro was slamming the meeting room door shut hard and running down the hall until he reached the main one of the Bonten building and saw you trying to walk down the stairs almost tripping over owns feet.
A man in perfect physical condition is more than enough to catch up to a poor girl still numbed by drugs inside her nervous system; he barely needed to try too hard to grab you by the waist and start dragging you into the bedroom again.
His anger was bubbling, hotter than the lava of Pompeii, you barely managed to extricate yourself from Mikey's grip around your body, even as your throat desperately tried to scream for help and hands, to punch the back, face, shoulders and neck of your kidnapper and admirer.
Stop, stop! Please! Lemme! Lemme go! Keep screaming, anything coming out of your mouth was like a beautiful melody to the Bonten leader.
It was as if Manjiro was having to deal with a child who had got into trouble. Nothing fairer than to show you the consequences of your actions. He loved you, but could not tolerate your attempted betrayal.
Minutes later, your wrists were handcuffed to the bed and Mikey's hands were aggressively reaching into the belt of his pants to remove it.
— Please! I would never... — You tried to speak between the tears falling from your eyes and the sobs escaping from the back of the throat, wrists trying to free themselves from the handcuffs that were stronger than they looked and your restless body on the bed writhing as if it would help you escape your situation. — Lemme go! P-Please, I... gonna never tell... anyone, I swear! I swear! — Mikey's dark eyes lifted from his belt about to be dropped to the floor and eyebrows lifted slightly.
— Oh, my pretty lil’ thing...
Manjiro knelt on the edge of the bed with a face that was a mixture of irritation, pity and, at the same time, passion. At no time would he ever stop loving you, nor let you escape his hands. You trying to do this was just a detail to be patched up in the beautiful love story he wanted to build for both of you; he could be merciful to you.
— Of course you’ll never say anything to anyone, I'm never gonna let you have the opportunity to do that, isn't it obvious? — And then one of his hands clamped down on your chin and lifted your tear-drenched, gasping face to force you to look at him. — You hurt me so much today! So much! But still, I love you, you're my pretty girl after all, aren'tchu?
Your head desperately cocked side to side and Mikey opened a wicked smile sideways before he violently spread your legs to stand between them.
— I'm just using what is rightfully mine, aren't I? — His fingers clamped tighter on your chin and you swore that just by the pressure your jaw would break; your mind was so busy trying to get your face away from his grip and back to trying to free your wrists that you barely noticed Manjiro's other hand sliding down your body until it reached your panty-covered pussy and began to massage it slowly, enjoying the softness of your folds against his fingers. — You shouldn't be crying while the man of your life is touching you, you should be happy that we are finally together.
— I... — Your fingers desperately clawed at the chains on the sides of the handcuffs, still trying to get free. — I don't even know you, why... — One of his fingers pressed against your clit and you gasped, choking on your own saliva. — Don't– fuck, don't touch me! I don't–
Mikey pressed his finger again against that sensitive heap of nerves and rubbed it there with his tongue running over lips in pure ecstasy at seeing you squirming over him.
— Hm? What are you talking about? Did the drug affect your pretty brain that much, kitten? — Manjiro asked as he leaned over your body to come face to face with your covered cunt and when you tried to close your legs, he just held them wide open with both hands digging fingers into the skin of your inner thighs. — I’m the man of your life, obvious. Manjiro Sano, the man who will take care of you forever, who will love you forever!
And then his face was tucked between your legs, the tip of his nose rubbing against your clit and he was breathing in the essence coming from your pussy and, soon after, letting out a lewd moan at the gradual realization of his dream.
It was then that more tears erupted from your eyes as Mikey was busy sniffing and licking your cunt over the thin fabric of the panties that was beginning to get wet with a mixture of his saliva and arousal coming from you.
Lewd, fifthy. That was the effect of the drugs Manjiro used earlier to kidnap you, wasn't it? It had to be. No way your body was sneakily betraying you and making you totally wet for a man as despicable as Manjiro Sano, right?
— Don't cry, my gorgeous baby, your body won't let you lie, I can see everything. — Mikey spoke in a sweet tone before leaning over you again with one knee pressed between your thighs and grabbing your chin again to make you look at him as soon as you turned the head in disgust to face him. — Oh, no, you don't wanna look at me? I understand that, princess, lemme help you with this thing, yeah? — And he turned away slightly from your body, and seconds later a blindfold was placed over your eyes, again wet with desperate tears.
Now the situation had completely changed. Now you were completely at the mercy of Manjiro's actions above you.
You had no way of predicting or seeing what he would do to you or the order in which he would do it, and so you desperately began to beg, scream at the top of your lungs, cry and squirm.
But for Mikey? You were loving it, your wet cunt made it obvious as soon as his hands quickly removed the panties and lifted your dress to just above your breasts to keep playing with clit greedily.
You were leaking for him, just for him. Your pretty cunnie wanted only him, no one else, only him.
Right?
Without having access to a field of vision, you just listened to Manjiro move around your body and the bed and only minutes later realized that he was placing himself between your thighs again with something rubbing between your wet folds and catching your legs around his hips.
He needed to feel your walls squeezing him, needed to have you swallowing him even without permission. Your crying increased desperately, wrists trying to get free of the cuffs and beginning to bruise from the friction between the skin and the material of those restrictive objects.
No tears would stop Mikey from sinking inside you and forcing your walls to accommodate his stiffening cock. No. His tip kissing your cervix painfully and your back arching from the pain as his head fell back from the pleasure of feeling your cunt squeezing him massively, as if you were trying to push him out and at the same time take him further in.
Before you could fully adjust to his shaft, Manjiro moved back and forth slowly to feel your walls squeezing him tighter and moaned loudly.
His hands found firm support at your waist, trying to keep you still as your legs tried to disengage from his hips, while his cock began to move in and out of you at a gradually faster pace.
Manjiro could, yes, have increased your lewd pain if he wanted to, but today? Oh, today he wanted to feel everything as calmly as his lack of self-control would allow.
The more force was applied to his hands holding you down and the more speed was used to abuse your wet hole, the more your body went up and down, the more often your covered-eyes rolled up and the harder it became not to let the gasping cries of "Stop!" turn into moans of ecstasy.
— Fuck! You are perfect! You're everything to me, princess, I love ya so, so fucking much! — Mikey spoke between moans with his head falling back, your pussy now wanting to milk him completely, your walls unintentionally letting him go and squeezing him more as an indication that even against your prior will your body would, yes, give in to the actions of the man above you. — Gonna fuck my babies into you, you'd like that, wouldn't you? To carry my seed forever? To be my pretty wife, to be the woman I love so much? — Your head denied it frantically with little whimpers escaping your lips.
Oh, yes, yes. He would fuck his cum deep inside you, make you carry his babies. Isn't that what love is all about?
— N-not, no-ahn! — You gasped as you felt him slam against a spot inside your gummy walls and have you roll your eyes completely before your body spasmed and you ended up having a sudden orgasm.
Your vision went white. Literally, completely. Your brain simply wasn't ready to receive this load of pleasure so suddenly, toes bending forcefully with legs still around Mikey's hips, mind was giving way, about to knock you out and push you into unconscious.
But before that, Manjiro was continuing to thrust hard into you, until, with a twitch, his cock gushed all the cream inside you with hot, thick jets. If you weren't about to carry his baby after being filled to the brim of your womb with cum, it would be a stroke of luck, maybe it was God acting on your behalf.
— Fuuuck~ — Mikey hissed with a loud groan, feeling your walls draining every last drop of his cum before he took your face between his hands and forced you to kiss him. — I love you, princess, so much. You are mine, all mine.
His lips left soft kisses all over your face as a form of caress before his cock slid out of your abused pussy and his eyes traveled down your body to reach your intimacy to see some of his cum leaking out of your entrance before he took two fingers there, collected the liquid and spread it over your folds; as if marking that you were now completely his.
Soon after, Manjiro took you to shower and pampered you for long minutes, as if to reward the previous minimally gentle treatment. And every time he leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead or stroke your shower-wet hair, you cringed in a mixture of fear and fear with disgust. Sano Manjiro was disgusting, perverse.
When he blew you a kiss in the air before leaving you alone in that room and minutes later returning with food, you felt as if you were about to vomit. And yet Mikey kept treating you like you were a princess, praising you whenever he could and showering you with compliments even when you were doing something as basic as eating all the food he had given you for dinner or lunch or accompanying him like a trophy wife whenever he wanted you to accompany him to Bonten events.
Then your body began to change as the sand in the hourglass of your life began to fall. So did your mind. In the days and weeks that followed, you found yourself enjoying Manjiro's presence, even if you still tried not to let him kiss you as much as he wanted to.
He was so kind, so affectionate, so obsessively in love to the point of being overly concerned about your well-being and assigning Rindou to supervise you while he himself was too busy taking care of the biggest gang in Japan.
Honestly, Rindou treated you like a porcelain doll and was initially afraid to make any sudden moves near you because Mikey had described you as a "fragile flower" repeatedly, so much so that when you whispered to him to buy a pregnancy test and painkillers for body aches he thought he had heard wrong and got a blush on his cheeks before he swallowed dryly and in the end complied with your request.
Manjiro wasn't kidding when he said he would fuck a baby into you and you didn't know how to react holding that test in front of you with trembling hands.
God did not act in your favor, sometimes He forgets about His daughters.
Your head thought: "No way he really wants a fucking baby, he was just saying that in the heat of the moment". Mikey sounded like anything but a man who really wants to have a child.
Despair flooded you immediately as your hands desperately threw the pregnancy test into the nearest trash in the bathroom and eyes desperately searched for something you could lean on.
They stopped at the medicines that Rindou had innocently bought.
Before you knew it, hands were already opening that little cap and taking several pills in the palm. From the palm to the mouth, from the mouth to the stomach and to the synapses of the nervous system. Consciousness slowly being drained from inside your body.
Passed out. That's exactly how you were, when Manjiro arrived in your room after a long extermination mission articulated by him and Haruchiyo on behalf of the Bonten.
— Babe? Where are you, hm? I missed you today! — Mikey announced as he walked through the door and looked at a completely empty room, without even the shadow of the woman he loved so madly.
Suddenly his countenance closed, the smile on his lips disappearing and feet stomping hard against the carpet before Manjiro looked around for you with his eyes.
There was no way you could have run away because Rindou would have caught you; and even if you had, the Bonten leader would have come after you.
A shiver ran down his back and a shocked, almost horrified look came over his face; everyone could almost hear the sound of his thin glass heart breaking.
In a matter of seconds, Mikey had already crossed the rest of the room to reach you and immediately took you in his arms with eyes filling with tears.
— My love? My princess? — His hand patted your cheek lightly, waiting for you to react. No effective response, your still unconscious head falling back slightly and the despair growing deeper inside him. — No, no, no! Y/N! — He desperately stood up with you in his arms, his eyes scanning your body and place for bloodmarks, for bruises, for anything that might serve as evidence of what had occurred prior to his arrival.
Nothing. Just the evidence of a crime that wasn't a crime in the bathroom trash can.
"She...", Mikey thought squeezing your body tighter against his before cursing and reaching for his own cell phone with tears wetting his pretty face. He was calling Haruchiyo before rushing out of the room with you still unconscious.
The rush to the hospital was tense, Manjiro's mood was terrible as he had to wait for the doctors to do their best work in the face of your drug intoxication and during the long agony, the only person he could exchange brief, restrained, resentful words with was Sanzu.
Fuck, he was going to be a father. He was going to have a child with you and the first thing you did was not only try to hide it from him, but try to hurt yourself enough to lose the pregnancy or worse: your own life in the process.
Mikey was genuinely torn between mentally blaming you and being apprehensive about the possibility of losing the woman of his life forever. Until a nurse came into the hallway he and Haruchiyo were in to give the news that your situation was stable, but that you would still need to stay in the hospital for the rest of the day just to make sure there were no surprises that followed.
And then the pregnancy test resounded in his mind again.
— Haruchiyo? — Manjiro called out with his eyes glazed over and Sanzu immediately looked at him intently.
— Yes, boss?
— You can take her there safe and sound, right? — Haruchiyo nodded, and Mikey put one hand on the shoulder of the man most loyal to him on Bonten before giving it a gentle squeeze. — I'm serious, take care of her for me, but don't make her angry. — The pink-haired man frowned in confusion. — When you arrive with her at Bonten's building, I want you to take her straight to the dining room that I use with her, understand? Don't let her go back to her bedroom.
And so the next time you saw Manjiro was in that dining room, with a pile of food laid out on the table.
When you saw Sanzu waiting for you in one of the hospital corridors, you genuinely thought that Manjiro was waiting outside, but, no. It was only Haruchiyo who was waiting for you, who was in charge of taking you back to the Bonten facility using his car.
Your body was begging for food, literally, so much so that as soon as you sat down in front of Mikey your hands barely waited for him to finish putting food on the plate before they started putting it in your mouth with a fork.
The food melted in your mouth, a "Hmm~" and sighs of delight and ecstasy escaping your lips as you began to eat much more than on a normal day. Manjiro was busy watching you and scheming how to bring up the subject of the pregnancy test without getting on your nerves.
— You're finally eating well, hm? — Your eyes rose from the food to his serene face as an embarrassed smile appeared on your lips. — I assume you like all this? The food, yeah? — His arms rested elbows on the table and his body leaned forward, intent on getting a better look at your reactions. — But I have a question to ask you.
Your shoulders tensed and eyes returned to the food on the plate; the tension around your body growing as Manjiro continued to stare at you.
— D'you have something to tell me? — Your body trembled at the question and breath caught in the throat.
— I... — You began to speak, and Mikey's eyes sparkled slightly. — I'm sorry...? — A mocking laugh escaped his lips as he denied it with his head.
— I found a... something interesting, in the bathroom. — Your shoulders shrugged, the air suddenly becoming harder to breathe. — Wanna know what it was? Or make an educated guess?
You swallowed hard and the moment your eyes didn't lift to meet his, Manjiro knew that you didn't intend to speak for yourself.
— Oh, I found a pregnancy test. — You bit your lower lip, the gravity of the situation becoming heavier when he was the one speaking aloud. — My, my! Thinking now, whose could it be? — Mikey's fingers drummed on the table before he rose from his chair and walked toward you with slow steps, leaving you hunched over the chair you were sitting in. — Who else's could it be, hm? Oh, yes, my girl, of course! You’re the only woman here. — One of his hands clamped down on your chin, lifting your face and forcing you to look at him. — So? Why didn't you say you were carrying my son? — One of his eyebrows rose and you felt a pure, corrosive shame like poison eating at you. — Hm? Did the cat eat your tongue? Or are you just scared? — He leaned over with a small smile drawing on his lips; a smile soaked in toxic love. — Rest assured, my pretty lil’ lady, I will do you and our baby no harm. Of course gonna take care of you both!
And then a tender kiss was placed against one of your cheeks and you found yourself taking a deep breath and sighing in relief without realizing how tense you were.
— It has always been my dream to have my own family, you should know that by now.
Manjiro walked towards his chair again with his own smile widening and eyes fixed on the height where your belly was hidden under the table.
— What should I say, hm? Soon-to-be mommy? — His hands cupped some of the hitherto untouched whiskey in the small glass beside his plate that had never been filled with food. — I shall work myself up on our wedding! — And the moment he took a long sip of his drink you felt tears flood your eyes.
Your brain didn't even know what you were crying for. Was it because you thought Mikey wouldn't want to have a child? Was it because you had recently been released from a hospital and the hormones inside you were being altered more and more and were pushing you into a roller coaster of emotions?
— Oh, baby! Don't cry, uh-hm. — Manjiro stood up to run to you and take your face in his hands to wipe away the tears. — I'm here for you, aren't I? Everything's going to be fine, our baby's gonna be just as beautiful as you are, there's no reason to cry.
After this, Mikey really made an effort to reduce any stress level and neutralize your worries while preparing the wedding of the two of you according to your tastes. It was your event, you were the main star and he wanted to be just the person who fulfilled all your wishes.
Every day when he would come back to you, to your arms, the leader of the Bonten would make a point to lie with his head on your lap and talk to your, to his child while caressing your belly starting to swell more and more. Your Stockholm-soaked heart would soften every time he did this.
Meanwhile, something was twisting on the other side of Tokyo.
There is no happy ending for Manjiro Sano. Not for him.
Your friends and family have missed you for so long that you have simply disappeared off the map. Even your professors at college gradually became worried and the police were called in.
It was a shame that Haruchiyo was so oblivious to his own surroundings when he was leaving with you at the hospital days before, he was too distracted listening to you babbling about how hungry you were and the same nurse who told Mikey that your situation was stable, reported you coming passed out to that place. She had said that you would need more time in the hospital as a pretext and gaining time to compare your information on the phone with the deputy and confirm that you were indeed the missing Y/N.
What day would the operation take place? August 1st.
Ran was the first to intercept the police cars and immediately the whole Bonten started moving in a whole evacuation operation. Manjiro's last words to you were: "Stay here, don't move, I'll be right back, everything will be fine, princess!" before he ran out of your room holding a gun.
But how could you stand there? Listening to noises of exchanging gunfire outside?
There was a bad feeling in the air.
Your belly, already much larger than before, made it difficult for you to walk and yet you got out of bed with your hands on the lower back for balance. The cold wind rushing down the hallway and through your body, heart sinking in the chest as the sounds of gunfire grew louder.
If there was a God, he wasn't acting on Manjiro's behalf.
As soon as you reached the main hall of the Bonten building, with almost everything destroyed, your ears picked up several "That's her", "Faster”, but eyes were fixed on Mikey with his back to where you were standing and a policeman pointing a gun at his back a few meters away. You ran for your life, for his life. The weight of the world on your shoulders and lungs barely able to breathe properly.
— Manjiro! — It was the last thing you shouted as he slowly turned around when he heard your voice and your hand reached up to try to touch for at least a half inch of anything that was his.
One word from Manjiro and you would jump off a ledge for him. But it didn't take even one for you to jump in front of a bullet for him.
It took a few fractions of a second for the bullet to really do some damage between your lungs and by the time your mind registered everything, the smell of gunpowder flooding your nostrils, your mouth was spitting blood and you felt as if everything was being ripped out of your body, from your will to live to your will to keep Mikey alive.
His name escaped your lips again, this time with a metallic taste and as faint as the beats of your heart that belonged to him.
It was the first and last time your eyes could register Manjiro Sano crying.
