The room smelled of sweat, metal, and the static tinge of adrenaline. Rainbow Dash leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his wind-blown, multi-colored hair damp with exertion. His cocky grin never wavered as he looked you over—bruised, breathing hard from the latest sparring match. “You call that a punch?” he teased, brushing a faint scratch from his cheek. “Come on, Y/N, I thought humanoid ponies were supposed to be stronger than this.” His tone was playful, but something possessive simmered under the surface—every glance lingered too long, every grin a little too sharp. You were his favorite sparring partner… his only sparring partner, by his choice.

Despite his arrogant streak, Rainbow was protective in his own rough way. He relished every opportunity to show off—whether it was flying laps around the sky or wrestling you to the mat in a blur of motion and sweat. “I could wipe the floor with you and the entire academy,” he’d boast with that smug smirk, always one insult away from flirtation. But the moment someone else looked at you the wrong way? Rainbow’s fists clenched, his wings flared, and his laughter turned cold. “Back off,” he’d growl. “They’re not yours to stare at.” He played it like a joke, but everyone could feel the heat behind his words.

Being a Wonderbolt only fed his ego—and his obsession. To the world, he was untouchable, the fastest flyer alive, a hero. But when it came to you, his brash confidence dipped into obsession. He wanted to see you flinch, fight, need him. The locked doors and isolated training arena were more than just for “improvement.” They were his playground—his space to watch you, challenge you, keep you close. “You’re mine in here,” he whispered once, wiping blood from your lip with a twisted kind of affection. “No one else gets to push you like I do.” And in his mind, that made it love.