Chapter Text
The summer heat was sticky and slow, like syrup dripping from a tree during the first snow. The only relief was the breeze, and even then, it carried the cold air with it to a different city. On days like today, however, the heat is the last thing on your mind.
You watch your uncle train his horse, Eraserhead. The two do laps around the field, only stopping every 10 miles for a routine vet check and quick rest. Competition season is approaching in a few months, and your uncle is always working hard to make sure he and Eraserhead are the best. You take time to admire the horse during the vet check. Eraserhead is a Tennessee Walker, a beautiful jet-black horse with a shiny coat, a braided mane, and a brushy tail. Stoic and strong, the horse reminds you so much of your uncle.
“Mousey, I’m startin’ to think you wanna steal him from me,” Aizawa teases. You laugh, flipping him off from your spot sitting on the fence.
“I can’t help you’ve got a majestic stallion,” you shout back. Swinging your legs over the fence, you hop down onto the packed dirt. Aizawa trots over with Eraserhead, a small smirk quirking his lips.
“Later tonight, Hizashi and I are doing orientation for the new competition riders. Wanna come along? Maybe show ‘em how to ride?”
Your eyes light up at the idea. He purposely kept his equine academy riders away from you, even though you have begged for ages to see them practice. Finally, being able to meet them in person? Hell yeah. You’d met their horses, having helped groom them and clean their stables with Aizawa. But meeting the riders is always so much different. You are practically jumping with excitement.
“Yes!”
“Calm down, calm down,” Aizawa climbs off Eraserhead, “They will be here later tonight. Since they are comp riders, they’ll start taking care of their horses full time, so you’ll need to be there to help with the transition stage for the horses.”
“I can do that,” you affirm. You care so much for the horses, there is no way you wouldn’t be there to help them.
“Alright then. Now, let’s get Eraser to his stable and lunch on the table,” Aizawa hums, leading his horse toward the large stable building settled in the valley of the field. You happily trail after him, buzzing around him with questions about the competition riders you’ll be meeting.
That night comes closer than you anticipate. One minute, it’s lunch, and the next, the sun hangs low on the horizon, and cars start to pull up into the dirt driveway. You stare down at the vehicles, anxiety now replacing the excitement you felt earlier. You’d been competing for Aizawa for a couple of years now, and you were one of his youngest students yet. It helped that he’s your uncle and raised you, but it was still daunting meeting new competition riders. The only other ones you knew were Nemuri and Hizashi, both having been best friends with your uncle for decades now.
You look down at your outfit, trying to figure out if it’s worth changing. You were in your riding attire: denim jeans and a tank top. You decide to throw a peachy flannel overtop, rolling the sleeves up to above your elbows and tying the ends around your waist. There, better. Hopping down the steps, you make it to the mud room before you feel the hit of anxiety again.
Most of the students must have carpooled because there were already over a dozen people and only 3 cars. You step right back into the main house and tuck behind a curtain, peeking out for second intervals at a time.
“You’ve gotta go meet ‘em, Mousey. They all are excited to meet you finally,” Aizawa grunts out. You turn, seeing him standing against the kitchen doorway. He’s dressed in his riding attire, too, basically just denim jeans and a dark colored button up. He already had his signature cowboy boots on, as well as his hat. You always thought he looked so cool in his riding attire, but now it scared you.
“What if they hate me?”
Aizawa laughs, walking up in front of you. He pulls you into a hug, patting the top of your head.
“They can’t hate you. You’re my niece, and the best rider this side of the country,” He lets you go, “Now get your boots on and get yer ass outside. You said you’d help.” Slipping past you, he steps into the mudroom. You follow, grabbing your boots and putting them on with a small pout on your lip. You hate it when he’s right.
He pushes the door open, waiting expectantly for you. Pushing back your sulking, you step out and face the group of riders. There had to be all of them here now, or else you might faint if more show up. The group is ragtag, a mixture of brightly colored hair and clearly different styles of clothing. Most of them were some idea of country with personal flair, with only a few standing out as riders from richer areas.
You shuffle behind your uncle, waiting for him to lead the conversation.
“Alright, brats. Y’all’ve made it to competition riding. Congrats. Your world just got a whole lot harder,” Aizawa starts. The riders huddle in front of him, keeping a distance while getting as close as possible.
“Ya’ll be living, breathing, eating, and shitting horse riding for the next 5 months. You will be taking care of your horses on your own,” he continues, watching the nerves shuffle through the group. You’d probably be scared, too, if you didn’t know that he isn’t serious. He continues to explain the rules of being one of his riders. What you didn’t know was that they’d be staying on the property.
“What?” You interrupt, moving so you are face to face with Aizawa, “What do you mean they’ll be staying here?”
“They’ll be staying in the cabins on the edge of the property, I told you this,” he grunts out at you. You frown. You know for a fact he didn’t mention this to you at all. Maybe because you would flip out just like you are now.
“You didn’t tell me shit, actually. You didn’t even tell me they’d be coming by today until right before lunch,” you counter him, arms crossed. You can hear some of the riders behind you mumbling about you sassing him. He must not put up with this when it comes to them.
“We’ll discuss this later, Mousey. If you can’t keep quiet, then we will meet you at the stables. Otherwise, hush.”
A pout forms on your lips. It may be childish, but you storm off towards the stables. Who does he think he is, embarrassing you in front of everybody like that? That could have been handled so much better than him giving you sass about it.
You can hear him talking as you push open the large doors and make your way to your horse, an American Thoroughbred mare. You received her as a gift from Aizawa when you turned 16. She was a foal when you got her, and you have finally been able to compete with her for the first time just 3 years ago. Naming her Juniper, she’s your pride and joy. You grab your saddle, hauling it over to her stable and pushing the door open. She’s a solid palomino-coated horse, with her only marking being two heart-shaped white patches surrounding her eyes.
Once you’re completely saddled up, you hoist yourself on top of Juniper. She whinnies, getting excited about going out to the fields. The sun had just dipped entirely below the horizon, and you could already hear the buzz of lightning bugs in the air.
Kicking off, you set her into a trot out of the stables. Your uncle’s voice became louder as you neared the entrance, a scowl settling onto your face. You stop, looking down at him and the group of riders following.
“I’m going to the trails,” you announce to your uncle. You weren’t asking.
“The hell you are, Mousey. It’s going to be dark soon, and coyotes have been spotted the past few nights. Don’t need you dying on me because you got mad and galloped off with my best horse,” Aizawa grabs the reins, making sure you can’t just leave anyway. Your scowl grows bigger. Why does he have to be right all the time?
“Fine. Then I’m going to the fields.”
You shoot him a look. If he doesn’t let you go, you’ll surely explode. To your fortune, he lets go of the reins and relaxes.
“Why don’t we all join you? I’m sure they’re all interested in learning about what got you a spot on my team at 17.”
You watch eyes light up in the group. Of course, he had to say that. You look at the smirk on your uncle’s face. You glare at him but nod.
“Fine.”
You prepare to trot towards the fields when something stops you.
“You probably got it for being a fuckin’ nepo baby or some shit,” a voice calls. You pull Juniper to a halt, looking through the group to find the person who spoke. Your eyes land on a blonde standing in the back. Eyes wide, you take in his appearance. Tall and muscular, the man had to be at least 2 inches taller than your uncle. He’s dressed almost exactly like Aizawa, except for the clothes being a deep rusted orange compared to the blacks your uncle wears. The man had scruffy blonde hair under his Stetson. Red eyes glare up at you from your position on the horse, making the attractive man look slightly less appealing.
You try to hide your smirk when you respond.
“Kiss my ass, dude,” you eye him up and down, “your big ego is making up for your little dick and you’re making it my problem.”
The entire group tries to hold in their laughter, which only pisses the man off more. Before he can explode, Aizawa puts a hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping his rampage. Your uncle shoots a glare at you, probably for language and picking a fight, but you just shrug. You cue Juniper to start down the dirt path to the fields. Aizawa and the group follow, although at a much slower pace than you. Juniper trots over to the gate, and you try to decide if you should jump down and open the gate or wait for Aizawa.
“Don’t you jump that gate, Mousey,” a growl from a couple dozen meters behind you calls. You perk up on the saddle. Better idea. Jump the gate.
It’s nearing 8:00 pm when the group finally relents, and Aizawa shows them to the stables and their cabins. You stay in the fields, however. You are still pissed about what that boy said, and it’s clear he’s pissed about your retort back. You were not a nepo baby—okay, maybe you were—but that didn’t change the hard work you’ve put into training. You’ve been working from the age of 5 to get into that academy, and it took you over 12 years to finally earn the respect to be a part of his competitive team. Most people think that Aizawa being your uncle made it easier to get in. No. It made it harder.
You trot back into the stables with Juniper, noticing a group of girls waiting for you. You try your best not to give them attention (maybe they won’t see you), but they still hear Juniper’s hoof clicks and walk over.
Climbing off Juniper’s back, they now surround her stable door entrance.
“That was so cool, with your riding and how you handled your horse back there,” one girl says, awed. Her hair’s dark, neat, and slicked back, reminding you of those wealthy horse riders you met last year at comp.
“Yeah! The way you reined in your horse was so awesome! It was like, the best riding I’ve seen,” another girl jumps in. You notice her set of pink scraggly hair tied up in two pigtails on her head. It almost makes you laugh at how childish it is.
“And the way you reined in Kat was pretty sweet, too,” another girl adds. The group of girls giggle, making you tilt your head. Was he the cute asshole who called you a nepo baby? He must be.
“He deserved it. I worked hard for my spot here.” You take off Juniper’s saddle and push past the girls to re-rack it. They follow, trying to talk to you still.
“We were wondering,” the black-haired girl from before starts. But the pink-haired girl interrupts.
“We were wondering if you’d want to come to the party tonight! One of the boys’ cabins is doing a celebration for making it this far! We thought maybe you’d wanna come.”
You pause, turning to face the group. They barely knew you but invited you to come out with them? The bubble of anxiety from earlier surfaces again.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, trying to hide behind Juniper as you de-saddle her and collect your things.
“Please! Everybody has been dying to meet you, not just us,” Another girl in the group chimes in. You raise your eyebrow, giving her a half-baked look of suspicion.
“I wouldn’t even know where the cabins are,” you lie. You know exactly where the cabins are. It’s clear the girls don’t believe your lie. They have to know you’ve lived here most of your life, and it would be insane if you didn’t know where the cabins were since they are in plain view of the main ranch house.
The pink-haired girl gives you a small smile, as if trying to comfort you.
“It will be fun. And if it becomes too much for you, I will personally walk you back to your room.”
A sigh escapes your lips.
“Fine,” you relent.
A chorus of squeals filled the stables.
The party is loud, and trying to fit 20 rowdy riders into a cabin made for only four makes everything feel so claustrophobic. You can’t even get through a beer without having to step outside for a breather. Everybody is nice, yes. But they are a lot for you. It’s not often you spend time with adults who didn’t help change your diapers or peers who didn’t despise you for one reason or another.
You dump your half-empty cup of beer into the grass, almost ready to just walk yourself back to the main house and crash on the couch for the night. The rest of them are partying so hard, they won’t miss you. However, the one person you didn’t see in the cabin is that stupidly blonde rider who called you a nepo baby.
“Hey, Mousey,” a taunting voice calls. Never mind, you’ve found him. Turning on your heel, you face the blonde. From the ground, he looks so much taller than you thought. Your uncle is tall but not in an intimidating way for you. But this man, he makes you feel like an actual mouse. Prey.
“What do you want?” You snap. You are not in the mood for him, even if his face is incredibly enjoyable to look at.
“Just wanted to say that you won’t be the best for much longer. Just ‘cause he’s your uncle don’t mean shit.”
You can’t stop your eyes from rolling. Seriously? Is he still caught up on this?
“How long have you been training, Blondy?”
Your question makes his smirk falter.
“Heh?”
“How long have you been training, Blondy?” you reiterate, slowing your words as if he’s too dumb for you to talk any faster. You can see his face contort between different emotions: anger, annoyance, confusion, more anger and annoyance.
“11 years this past spring,” he finally answers. You can’t stop the laugh from bubbling from your throat. This just pisses the man off more.
“What’s so fuckin’ funny, you-“
“So, you’ve been riding since you were like 14,” you stifle back another laugh. “I’ve been riding for 18 years, buck. And it took me more time to earn my spot on the competitive team than the years you’ve been riding.”
You can almost revel in the fall of his ego. You’ll be living this high for years to come.
“I’m not the best. I’m just better.”
Satisfied with the slaughter of the blonde’s cockiness, you start towards the cabin. Maybe it’s the alcohol that pushed your anxiety down into the depths of your belly, keeping it from overtaking your fight or flight response in that moment. Either way, the look on that asshole’s face will not be one you regret.
You lied. You so regret that look on his face. The past month has been a new level of hell for you. Katsuki (you’ve finally learned his full name), made it his mission to do everything he could to destroy any semblance of peace you had beforehand.
And he didn’t do it by pulling pranks or bullying you. No, that would be preferable to his special method of torture. Instead, he’s been flirting with you. Not average flirting, either. Katsuki has been using the filthiest flirting methods he can. You can’t escape them no matter how hard you’ve tried. Everybody’s noticed this too. When you are riding Juniper before the sun comes up, he’s there in the stables with his horse. When you go to dinner, he finds you walking back from the fields. When you help close up at night, Katsuki stays behind just to continue his onslaught of torture.
You’re almost at a breaking point with this man. He’s incredibly attractive, sure. And maybe you’ve had the occasional dream about the man that left your panties ruined. And maybe he’s a really good rider, and that turns you on sometimes. But you are not going to fall for his tricks. No way.
Making your way out of your bedroom, you slide on your boots and grab one of your hats from the rack next to the door. It’s the weekend, so it’s mostly spent with free riding or relaxing. But not for you. Uncle Aizawa has instilled a strict training regimen. You try every day you can, and every day you can’t. So you don’t get breaks on the weekends. But you didn’t mind. Weekends meant riding the trails for most of the day.
The sun has barely peeked over the horizon as you push the stable doors open. You’re expecting to find silence, save for a few horses moving in their sleep. But instead, you find Katsuki.
“Hey there, Mousey,” he taunts, throwing a smirk over your way. You roll your eyes, ignoring his attempts to rile you up. But he doesn’t stop. As you make your way to Juniper, he starts walking next to you.
“Are you ever going to give in? I can see the look in your eye,” he leans in close, “I can practically feel the wetness of your pussy on my palm already.”
Without thinking, your embarrassment leads you to turn on your feet, landing a loud smack against his face. The sound bounces off the stable walls, riling up the horses. Even Juniper starts to whinny and kick at the noise, but you couldn't care less.
The blonde stares at you like he’s never been hit before. And maybe he hasn’t been, not by a girl. Realization sweeps under your skin. You hit Katsuki. His face contorts from anger to something you didn’t expect: lust.
“Oh,” his lips slink into a smirk, “that turned you on, huh? That why you hit me?”
Your body betrays you. A small twitch in your thighs brings awareness to your aching cunt. Your face must be red, in frustration and the unfortunate feeling of lust that takes over your body.
“Fuck you,” You spat at the man, “Just stop bothering me, for the love of god!”
He only laughs.
“Why? You seem to be enjoying it. I think you enjoy this game of cat and mouse.”
You groan at his pun, wanting to curl into a ball and disappear. You just wanted to ride Juniper on the trails, have a good bath in the waterfalls near the mountains. But instead, you’re stuck in the stables at 4 in the morning, with Katsuki harassing you. You just want him to stop.
“Please, just leave me alone. I’ll never look at you again, I’ll never talk bad about you again. Just,” you let out a small huff of air, “Just please leave me alone.”
The blonde stares at you for a moment, as if trying to decide if he finds this amusing or annoying. You wait for a response, praying for anything but ‘no.’ Finally, he walks past you. You relax against Juniper’s stable door, like a miracle was just performed on you.
You watch Katsuki walk towards his horse Ground Zero, and you hate that your eyes immediately went to the blonde’s ass. You look away, only for your head to snap right back over to him when he speaks.
“I ain’t done with you yet.”
You sink to the floor, defeated, pitiful, and worst of all: horny.