❛ 𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑑 ❜

Your heart jumped, lips tugging into a smile as you swung a leg over his waist. You straddled him, lifting your nightgown up over your thighs. Before you reached for him, you tugged your bonnet back into place, adjusting it carefully, ignoring the way he huffed a laugh at the sight.

“Gotta look right,” you mumbled, more to yourself, before pulling his dick free of his briefs. He was heavy and warm in your hand, already thickening just from your touch.

Settling over him, you guided the head against your slick folds, gasping when it nudged against your entrance. He gripped your hips, eyes barely parted, watching the way you teased yourself on him.

“Go on then,” he rasped, voice low and edged with sleep. “Take what you wanted so bad you had to wake me up for it.”

You sank down slow, the stretch making your eyes flutter. His dick filled you inch by inch, and your lips parted, breath shaky.

“Mmm…” you moaned, hands braced against his chest as you bottomed out, the weight of him deep inside.

Your thighs trembled as you eased yourself into a steady rhythm, rocking against him, savoring the deep stretch of his dick filling you to the hilt. Each slow roll of your hips made you moan softly, little broken sounds that slipped into the quiet of the room. You were wet enough that every motion drew out a slick, lewd sound, your arousal dripping down to dampen his briefs bunched low around his hips.

He kept his eyes closed at first, head sunk into the pillow, his hand still heavy on your hip. Every so often, he let out a low grunt or a quiet moan, the kind of sound that rumbled from his chest and made you clench tighter around him.

You rode him like that for a while—slow, sensual, almost lazy. But the ache in your belly only grew sharper, needier. You leaned forward and pressed one palm to his stomach, sliding it under his t-shirt. Your nails scraped over his skin, dragging lines across his abs as you bounced harder, faster.

His breath caught, and his eyes cracked open. Hooded, half-dreaming, but watching you now—your nightgown bunched high, bonnet crooked, your lips parted around breathy moans, the slick sound of your cunt taking him raw filling the room. His lips parted too, a faint grunt pushing past them as he shifted his grip, squeezing your hip tighter.

“Fuck…” he muttered, voice rough, gravelly with sleep. “You’re lucky I love the way you feel.”

That only spurred you on—you fucked yourself down on him harder, wetter now, your moans rising into whines. The drag of him inside was unbearable, thick and perfect, hitting so deep your stomach clenched.

“Mghn—ahh” you gasped, nails digging into him as your hips snapped down, creamy arousal coating his dick with every grind. “You feel so fucking good—”

His gaze dragged over you slowly, hungry even through the haze of sleep. He groaned again, hips lifting just enough to meet your movements, driving deeper, making your breath hitch.

You rode him faster, tits bouncing with each movement, sweat pearling on your skin, voice catching as you gave him everything—your whimpers, your nails, the sight of your body working his cock like you were made for it.

His eyes stayed on you, hooded and dark, lips parted around another low moan.

“Messy little thing,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep but edged. “Getting wetter the longer you use me. Gonna make yourself cum on this dick, ma?”

Your hips faltered for a moment, thighs burning from the effort, and you let out a shaky little moan. He felt it immediately—the drag of your rhythm slowing, your body trying to take mercy on itself.

“Uh-uhn,” he murmurs, eyes still half-lidded but sharp enough. “Keep going.”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, nodding fast, biting down on your lip as you tried to grind faster, harder, the stretch almost too much but addictive all the same.

He watched the struggle, the way your mouth parted, the way your brows furrowed and eyes watered just a little as your body worked him. A dark smirk curled at his mouth.

“Shameless.” he muttered, voice edged with heat. “Waking me up at three in the damn morning just to sit on this dick. You’re so fucking nasty, you know that?”

A flush burned through your chest at his words, your thighs quivering. His hand released your waist and he slapped your ass, his filthy way of trying to spur you on. You wined at the sharp stinging sensation.

He groaned low, thrusting his hips up into you once, hard enough to make you yelp. “Faster. I didn’t tell you to slow down.”

You rocked slow, already sensitive. “I—fuck—you shouldn't talk—ah—you’re making me do all the work,” you gasped, nails clawing at his chest.

That got him. He sighed like you’d tried his patience, then suddenly his big arm was wrapping tight around your waist, hauling you down flush to him. His other hand came up, rough and certain, wrapping around your jaw and squeezing until your lips jutted in a pout.

Your eyes went wide, lips parted around a soft, broken sound.

“Watch your mouth,” he scolded, his hips snapping up into you, hard and fast, making your whole body jolt with each deep thrust. “You’re the one who woke me up begging for dick. You should be grateful I even let you ride me, slut.”

Fresh tears pricked at your lashes, your breath coming in high-pitched moans as his dick slammed into you, raw and deep, stretching you in a way that bordered on too much.

“Mmghn—oh god—” you gasped, voice breaking as your nails dug harder into his chest, leaving deep cresent marks as your mind slipped sideways with the force of his thrusts.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he grunts against your mouth, eyes locked, lips curled. “Cry for it. Take what you asked for.”

You keen, wet and whimpering, eyes glassy as you felt him battering deep inside, his grip on your jaw forcing your gaze to stay locked with his. Your thighs shook, your walls fluttering around him, every stroke drawing you closer even as his voice scolded, edged with possession.

“Ungrateful little brat,” he gritted, jaw tight as he kept fucking into you. “So mouthy, but you always listen when it counts, don’t you? You love me putting you in your place.”

You nodded frantically, lips trembling under the pressure of his hand, every thrust pulling a needy moan from your throat, your whole body screaming yes even as tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.

His thrusts never lost rhythm—deep, rough, unforgiving—forcing your body to take him over and over.

“Don’t pout at me,” he teases, voice low and edged, his breath hot against your face. “You wanted this. You woke me up begging, and now you’re gonna take it the way I give it.”

His hips snapped harder, making you yelp. He swallowed the sound with a deep groan, lips parted, eyes blown. Your walls clutching him with desperate pulses.

You pant, clinging to him, your body burning, splitting, drowning in him.

“Please—ah—!” your voice cracked, high and broken, “please—”

“Mm, I love hearing that,” he rasped, pushing deeper until your walls spasmed around him, soaked and messy. “My sweet girl, dripping all over me, crying for it. Look at you. So fucking needy.”

Your eyes rolled back when he hit that spot again and again, and you could feel your body trembling on the edge, teetering. But just when you thought he’d let you break, he released his grip on your jaw and waist, leaving you suddenly free, trembling and desperate.

“Go on,” he said, leaning back into the pillows, sweat glistening at his temple, lips curling as he watched you. “Ride it. Show me how bad you need it.”

Your thighs burned as you shifted, lifting yourself just enough to start bouncing again, his cock dragging deliciously through your slick walls. Your head tipped back, moans spilling out, wetter and louder than before.

He groaned low in his chest, one big hand sliding down between your thighs, thumb circling your clit. You gasped, body jolting, hips stuttering as the pleasure doubled.

“Ohhh—fuck, I—” you whimper, bouncing faster now, the mix of his dick stirring your insides and his thumb working your swollen clit making you gush wetter, dripping down his shaft.

“Messy little problem,” he grunted, watching his dick disappear into you, creamy and soaked. “So nasty and perfect. Can’t even wait ‘til morning—had to wake me up dripping for it.”

Your moans broke higher, tears streaking your cheeks as you rode him harder, his thumb rubbing fast and dirty over your clit. He groaned with every bounce, his eyes fixed on you, dark, lips parted, savoring the sight of you falling apart but not giving you permission yet.

“Keep going, ma,” he ordered, voice a low drawl. “Show me you’re grateful. Show me how much you need this dick.”

Your thighs shook, your body begging to give in, but he only pressed harder at your clit, drawing it out, dragging your need to the very edge without letting you tumble over.

Your thighs were trembling, muscles screaming, but you didn’t dare stop. His dick kept splitting you open, sliding in deep and raw.

“God—oh, baby—” your voice pitched, cracked and broken, breathless from the pace. Your lashes fluttered, lips parted and glistening with spit as your head tipped back.

“That’s it,” he rasped, voice low and rough, every word vibrating against your chest where you leaned into him. His hand at your waist held you steady while his other worked between your thighs. “Look at you. Falling apart on my dick. So fucking wet for me.”

More tears streaked hot down your cheeks as the pressure built unbearable. “F–fuck, I can’t—” you sobbed, bouncing harder, messy and uncoordinated now, your wetness gushing down his shaft.

“Yes you can,” he snapped, eyes locked on you, sweat beading at his brow. Breath ragged, but his stare never wavered. “You’re gonna cum for me, sweetheart. Right here, right now. Cream all over this dick—come on. Be good for me.”

His thumb pressed harder, circling tight, and that was it. Your whole body seized as your orgasm tore through you, violent and raw. You screamed his name, thighs shaking uncontrollably, your pussy squeezing around him in desperate pulses, soaking him as you collapsed forward.

“That’s it,” he groaned, gritting his teeth as he fucked you through it, keeping you bouncing, milking him while you shattered. His eyes burned into yours when you lifted your head, dazed and wet-faced, your lips trembling. “Mghn—so pretty. Look at you.”

Your body shook, tears blurring your vision, but you held his gaze. Even while your orgasm ripped through you, you saw him watching—hungry, proud, undone by how desperate you were for him.

He hissed, groaned deep, He pulled out fast, stroking himself rough until he spilled hot and messy over your stomach, streaking your skin, painting across the underside of your tits.

“Goddamn, baby” he panted, voice frayed, chest heaving as his release dripped down your belly.

You were still shaking, your thighs weak, lips glossy and parted, chest heaving. You smeared some of his mess across your belly with shaky fingers, half-worn, half-proud, and he only smirked, pulling you down into his arms, sweat-slick and sticky between you both.

His mouth pressed to your temple, giving a sweet peck before he whispered into your hair, "Got it out your system?"

❤︎𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓢𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓒𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓫𝔂 𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰 ❤︎

White lace bow divider by @dollywons

Mdni/Support text by me

Sometimes the southern heat was just overbearing; if another layer of clothing wasn't peeled away quickly, you swore you could burst into flames like an unlucky vampire caught in the deadly webs of sunrise. Heatless copper dyed spirals laid obediently in gel—a white scarf tied around the surrounding area as a fashion statement while matching swirls curled at your temples. Cinnamon tinted moles sprinkled across your cheeks sparkled with sweat as you tried oh-so desperately to ignore the sun devilish presence. Dark washed and dirt stained overalls sat loosely on the crisp white tee that soaked in sorrow.

Another annoyed groan vibrated deep in your chest. Frustration wasn't even the word for what creeped deep beneath your bones.

You huffed in defeat, almond shaped manicure glistening under the sun's harsh rays once your bubble gum pink gardening gloves were flung from your palms. Your breathing starts to stutter as you try to keep your tears from bleeding through the concrete dam hidden behind your eyes.

You've been sweating buckets since you stepped foot from your wooden porch. Uprooting those invading, stubborn weeds from your stubborn Pentas has officially worn you out. Hours of hard labor for your garden to still look untouched—almost like you never stepped foot outside in the first place. Your beautiful star shaped flowers that attracted the most vibrant, joyful butterflies and hummingbirds weren't what they used to be; once full of life became an eyesore for anyone that analyzed your plants.

As much as the beautiful array of flowers shaped your garden, the pests and weeds that hounded were burdensome—damaging months of hard work in mere seconds. The forest green foliage might seem appealing to the naked eye, but spider mites lurked deeply in the cracks of the crops and damaged any and everything in sight.

Standing with a groan and an alarming sound of your joints popping, you watched your pedicured feet take turns on the freshly cut grass that led back to your porch. Defeat laid comfortably on your shoulders, tear ducts swollen from pending tears.

Stupid plants.

Distant clouds held the weight of a thunderstorm, the smell of the breeze carrying the scent of rain and sadness; the sun was oblivious to the storm brewing. The wind blew, but not the kind you wanted—it blew hot and sticky, like the first few seconds of an oven opening, making you feel more icky. Trees waved at you in the distance while the cries of your wind chimes touched gave subtle a warning.

"I know you're not sheddin' tears over those flowers, Sweets." Toji could read you like a book even if it was sealed shut and buried six feet under. He emerged from the darkness of the house like a DC villain, the screen door clapped loudly behind him; your furry pets tilted their heads in confusion when they weren't immediately let out.

Full lashes kissed at his cheeks—heavy eyelids making his appearance more intimidating. Even with half his eyesight, his shaded gaze weighed heavily on your figure. A half smoked cigarette slept lazily between his lips, glowing a deep crimson before grey smoke poured from his nose.

You jumped at the sudden noise; a sniffle and a quick wipe to your swollen eyes later and you almost looked normal. To whom? You don't know.

"M'not," You lie, avoiding his siren stare.

"Don't bullshit me, woman. Jus' watched it happen with my own two eyes." Toji wore the sweat on his temple proudly, the absence of his hat being the sole reason why he came back to the house and found you whimpering over plants. The metal porch railing held his tilted weight with ease.

A dark brown cowboy hat with his initials scorched deeply into the side casted a ominous shadow on his face, making his stare more menacing.

"If you knew then why'd you ask?" You followed his bulky shadow as it loomed over you like bad news. With the cigarette tucked between his pink lips he mumbled "watch that mouth," before blowing smoke in your direction.

"Asked to see if you would lie. And you did. 'Told you about that."

You rolled your eyes mumbling a quiet apology while your arms crossed over your chest. "Just upset right now, Toj’."

Silver poured like a fountain from his lips as he eyed you from afar. Clouded rings floated from his face as he squinted, his heavy head tilting to the left.

"Didn't we tell you to stop poutin' over those plants or am I goin’ crazy?” As he awaited your answer another wave of smoke surrounded you.

“You did.”

“We also told you we'd get someone out here to look at 'em because it somethin' out of your control. Did we not?”

He searched heavily for your downward gaze, that bitter, toxic stench of his cigarette curling into you like bumped ends. You sighed into a nod, slowly unbuttoning the jean deathtrap you wore to create some type of air circulation through your clothes. Still, your eyebrows touched and your lip poked out.

“Yes, Toji. I remember.”

"Clearly not if I just found you, not even two weeks later, doin' the same thing.” He inhales again, this time the smoke pouring from his nose like an angry bull.

"I knoww, m'sorry. It’s jus' that I watched another video and thought it looked easy enough to try. It sucks that my green thumb was lost in transit while I was bein' brought into this cruel, cruel world…”

He watched as you explained your reasoning with a grin clawing at his lips. He could never take you seriously when you're being this dramatic. The way you flung your arms in exaggeration and how your pout deepened as the urge to cry was a blink away—it was cute.

“'Nd now you're laughin' at me! This is why I only discuss my feelings with Ony!" You wiped at the heavy, hot tears that managed to escape down your cheeks.

Toji sucked the remaining cigarette dry and tossed it behind him, his frame becoming larger then shrinking—he was now crouching and eye to eye with his pouting woman.

"Look," he sighed, "I'm not laughin’ at you or tellin' you to stop gardening—l love seein' you in your own world, but you need guidance. Even if it wasn't something out of your control, you can't just start somethin' and expect to be a master at it in a few seconds. 'Shit takes time, Darlin’. Rome wasn’t built in a day."

Well…It's true.

With every new money sucking hobby you joined overnight, there were a good three seconds where you thought you knew exactly what you were doing from just watching a single video—that is before you're bulldozed with a reality check.

Baking? Served poison on porcelain with a toothy grin and it took Onyankopon one bite into your crack brownies before telling you the harsh truth about your skills, or lack of. Crocheting? Oh gosh. If Toji wasn't holding your tablet, the comically large aluminum crochet hook would've been lodged up his nose somewhere.

From accidentally downloading a virus onto your PC from downloading links you mistaken for Sim mods, to unknowingly buying knockoff anime figures from a sketchy website that really didn't seem that sketchy, but now that you looked back it definitely looked questionable. It was all trial and error.

You lived and learned.

“Understood?”

You nodded, untying the scarf from your scalp and throwing it to the swinging bench that sat adjacent. You sigh, "Sorry for my attitude, Toji. Still workin' on my snappiness."

He flashes a grin, rough palms rubbing tight circles on the soles of your feet,"I see that and 'm proud of you. "Lots of progress is happenin’. 'Bout three years ago we would've been barkin' back and forth like dogs."

"Yea," you both shared a chuckle, "Thanks, Toji-Bear. You're too sweet to me. Even when I'm cranky and bein’ a drama queen." Dark lashes that shaped your eyes something sinister fanned in his direction, blinking slowly like a cat admiring its owner.

He grinned at his nickname, sharp canines peeking through his pink scarred lips. A soft breeze teased at the spiral ends that peeked from his hat.

"S my pleasure, Love. You know that." Toji's voice matched yours: lust-heavy, his whispered words were deeper, more core stimulating. His finger lifted the tip of his hat, allowing his features to be visible and less insidious.

"Wipe your face 'nd give me a kiss?"

"Please?" You challenged, eyebrows arching to your forehead.

He eased his body slowly between your legs like a predator stalking its prey: too slow to notice until it was too late. The heat that radiated from his torso was almost torturous between your clothed thighs. Your breath hitched as you whispered, "Say please, Toji."

"Please, Darlin?"

Before he even finished begging, his tongue was already miles ahead, meeting you halfway. Kisses from Toji were always over the top—he couldn't keep his tongue hidden behind his teeth if he tried. His heavy head tilted, desperate to get closer—deeper between your plump lips. Your squeaks are muffled and immediately swallowed and before you know it, you’re unintentionally pulling back from him. Toji's weighted, calloused palm gripped at your throat, squeezing just enough to assert dominance and to keep you anchored.

"Toji," you warned behind whimpers, "We're outside."

"Mhm," He hummed, seemingly acknowledging your concerns. He tugged at your bottom lip asking, "Who's goin' to stop me from showin' love to my woman?" He cocked his thin eyebrow, waiting on an answer to his rhetorical question then continued his pleasurable assault between your lips, his thick tongue dancing around yours. You melted into his touch, muscles relaxed and meshed into him like soft wax. Finally, he pulled away for good—lips swollen and glossed from spit.

"So pretty. 'Taste sweet, Peach"

You fake gasped, your palms hiding your gaped mouth, “Don’t be stealin’ Ony’s pet names. You know how he gets!”

He chuckles, aged joints popping as he stands at full height. “You’ right about that. Speakin’ of—Ony had his panties in a bunch since we woke up. ‘Don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“Maybe he’s tired of dealin’ with you and Megumi and wants to see me.”

Onyankopon was definitely tired of dealing with Toji. Him and his nonstop jokes and childish antics under this type of heat? Nah. Nothing was funny in this bipolar weather.

His grin widened.

“‘S ironic that you brought him up, you know,” you quirked an eyebrow as Toji continued, “We’re about to bring Megumi out to the round pen before we’re done out here. Put some clothes on and meet us in the field.”

If your eyes got any wider, they would be rolling around on the porch. “Uh No, Toji. My time in the sun is over. I just want a bubble bath and to lay around inside with Salem and Boa. Maybe even pick back up crocheting. Plus the sky looks like it wants to open up and flood everything in sight!”

“Ten minutes,” He held his palm to you, his thick fingers urging you to stand. You didn’t want to, but the menacing look in his eyes showed that that there were no jokes behind his statements. “That’s the lowest I’m goin’ so you better get up before it jumps to twenty.”

“But I’ve been out here all day!” You whine, your hand falling on top of his. He tugged you up with ease and held you upright while you continued protested.

“You’ve been out here for not even five minutes, ⧼★⧽. Stop bein’ dramatic,” Toji deadpanned, officially leaving you by yourself on warm wood.

“Oh whatever—!” Before you could counter, he was already states away from you and towards the field. Even his jog was attractive—heavy muscles flexing under his shadow shaded clothes. He turned to find you still standing and chuckled. Cupping his hands around his lips he yelled, “Bring your ass before I get Onyankopon to sic you!”

You grinned, wiping the pending sweat puddling at your hairline. Ten more minutes.

It wasn’t ten minutes. Let’s try an hour and twenty minutes.

With the sun shining, still etching itself deep into your skin like a scar, the last thing you wanted to be doing was getting acquainted with a horse who couldn’t care less about your existence. Toji sits behind you, his weighted pelvis rocking against yours with the slow and steady stride of his horse—the metal plate of his sizzling belt buckle knocking against the top of your clothed ass crack. An earthly, tobacco scent mixed with a hint of sweetness from your vanilla perfume, that hadn’t melted off, trailing behind closely like a cape.

Wearing black in the sun’s presence was a disaster just itching to happen, so questioning Toji’s motives for wearing not only a long sleeved black tee, but jeans to match wasn’t frowned upon. His top hugged tightly against his sweat glazed tanned skin, threatening to rip with any sudden movement. Heavy strokes from his tattoos peeked just under the neckline of his shirt—almost giving the illusion that it was an extension of his top. If you were being honest, his poor choice of an outfit just brought extra heat, and it was being placed directly on your shoulders.

"Hol' on tight to the reins, Sweets. Take control. Meg’s not goin’ to take you seriously if ya’ scared of him.”

Barking orders around wasn’t anything new, these animals would walk all over him if authority wasn’t latched on to his voice—doing it for hours on end with cigarettes being chain-smoked in between is what’s fucking him up. Anytime he spoke, it felt like a microphone needed to be lodged down his throat to chase each whispered word. It’s only getting worse with each passing minute.

"There you go. Good joooob,” He praised, voice coming out winded, “You’re gettin' better at this, you ain't ridin’ while we sleepin'? Sure seems like it."

Rough hands were tight around your waist, giving you reassuring squeezes whenever you whimpered in doubt, which was every other second. Toji felt the fear latching onto your bones under your embrace—he could see the worry painted on your face from the moon, but the only thing to shake that said fear was to face it head on.

"M'sure..."

Stallions were naturally aggressive and not easy going with new people, especially Toji’s furry friend here. You’ve witnessed Megumi take that extra mile to be by himself—stationed in the corner glaring menacingly at the town below. And doing something he didn’t want to do sparked pure chaos.

You knew it was a pending problem with him when both Onyankopon and Toji had to stand close while Dr. Shiu performed his first of many monthly routine exams.

Megumi stomped his heavy hooves with anger at every gloved touch that graced his silky black fur, nipped at the doctor whenever he was in view, and whipped his tail when he was certain something was there to be strucked—almost like a child throwing a tantrum. You've seen plenty of horses come and go, all with different personalities that molded them differently from their counterparts—but none as special as Megumi.

With checkups becoming increasingly common, Megumi no longer acted an ass when it was time to be examined, but that day has been stamped into your brain like a tattoo. Being on the receiving end of his violence was not on your to-do list. Not not. Not ever.

"Toji-Bear?"

With your voice soft as a pillow, below a whisper and coiled tight in concern, you almost mirrored Toji’s hoarseness. He replied with a curious hum, pierced ear pressing against your warm cheek to better understand what you were saying. "He's not gonna hurt me, right?"

Toji confidently reassured you, replying in a hum, "He ain't gonna hurt you, Sweetheart. Pon and I trained him well since that day. Ain't that right?"

"Mhm," Onyankopon responded with a confident hum, "He's only aggressive with male horses and red balloons, Peach," A thin piece of hay dangled from his plump two toned lips. He stood leaning against the wooden fence— tone, tatted arms peaked from his white tea. His dark brown eyes stalked you like a hawk from afar. "If you’ ain’t either of those things then you'll be juuus' fine."

"’Kay... if you say so," Unsureness intertwined tightly around your words—in result, your grip on the reins were much tighter.

Riding around in circles with heavy supervision was a traditional practice that happened roughly twice a week. Sometimes it was your personal horses from the stable, others it was mounts who needed temporary assistance while they healed from minor surgeries. From what Onyokapon told you, doing this was beneficial and helped you get comfortable enough to ride on your own— climbing your way up to possibly helping out in the field if needed. You, on the other hand, hated it. Horses were their thing, not yours.

Whenever Toji received the horse as a gift, the handler informed him about his aggression towards all other animals and humans. Although he didn't specify on why, Toji assumed it had something to do with his previous owners mistreating him.

"Let's just say Megumi had a hard upbringing..." The handler expressed, eyebrows folded across his forehead. He was cautious with his brushing, afraid of any sudden movements from the horse.

Heavy hands weighed at Onyokopon's hips, chocolate dipped eyes squinting from the sun, "You don't say. ‘Boy can barely stop shakin’, Toj’,"

Toji gave a nod, eyeing the handler. “I see. Shakin’ like a rookie stripper.”

Toji hesitated touching Megumi, his covered fiery gaze turning Toji’s movements into stone. Scarred whip marks littered his backside and sides. The supposed silky black mane was a complete overgrown mess covering his curious eyes. Each sudden movement caused the colt to jerk in fear—sometimes going as far as lunging towards you as an act to protect himself. Megumi’s ribs were prominent from a skyscraper with mountains of flies dancing on his sunken stomach. He limped when he walked, overgrown hooves making it impossible for comfort.

“—Y’all don’t take care of him? Seems like y’all contributin’ to the rough upbringin’ if you ask me.” Onyankopon couldn’t help the anger in his voice. Still, he kept his voice level down to keep the horse at bay.

“Well, we have. He’s just… well— aggressive.” As if on que, the horse jumped forward causing the handler to quite literally jump into Onyakopon’s arms for protection.

For a good three years Onyankopon, Toji, and Dr. Shiu were the only people the horse became accustomed to. Building trust and loyalty took time and effort, but it was worth it in the long run. Your lovers took time to learn their pet, informing themselves about what Megumi adorned and highly disliked.

It came as little surprise that he disliked almost everything.

Except brushes.

Megumi became accustomed to his daily brushes—looked forward to them, actually. Onyankopon thinks it's a sensory thing, the bristles bringing a sense of peace to melt throughout his body.

"Give it 'bout three more months and Megumi will be out there with all the mares. Maybe get some kids out of ‘em. Hopefully make some profit."

"Yeah," Ony agreed, feeding a fistful of hay to Megumi, "Maybe even introduce him to Peach, see how he responds to her."

You rejected immediately, bringing up the situation with Shiu and how uncomfortable it made you feel. They understood, Onyokopon even considered postponing the meeting to a couple months later, but of course that didn’t happen. You were face to face with him ten minutes later. You could’ve sworn Megumi rolled his eyes when Toji was introducing him to you.

“He looks so angry, Ony-baby.” looking up through your lashes usually got you out of situations you didn’t want to be in. You swayed your hips more, even sticking your lip out a little far to catch his attention. He didn’t crack—not even a twitch in his tired eyes. His scold deepened as he rolled his eyes.

“Girl, please. ‘M not Toji. That shit didn’t work on me. Hop on.”You groaned dramatically as you were helped onto the animal.

All was well. The key word was. Not even two minutes and Megumi was already rising on his hind legs in an attempt to get you to unattached.

You thought it was your time, that he was going to somehow do a backflip and crush you to death under his weight. You yelped loudly, only adding fuel to the growing flames. Ony was quick on his feet, speaking slowly and softly to the horse as Toji pried you from his back.

The incident was brought up to Shiu and he said that you were still a stranger to him—He wasn’t familiar enough with you therefore he didn’t trust you. From that day forth, anytime Megumi was brought out, you were there.

His feedings? You were stuffing handfuls of hay in his puffy cheeks. You lead him with Toji but refuse to hold the reins and kept your distance.

What really got Megumi to gradually grow interested in you was your brushes. Really, it was your nails raking up and down his fur. You did it absentmindedly when feeding him—your finger tickled the spot just between his eyes. Up and down, up and down.

You didn’t notice that he was enjoying it until Toji pointed out that he leaned his head towards you.

“R-really? Thought he was jus’ rushing me.” You turned to the horse as he eyed the hay in your palm, “You like my nails, Megumi?” As if he could respond.

You shifted your body slightly, your legs becoming static from the extended horse ride. The clouds containing the storm were now minutes away, the smell of rain overpowering the scattered horse poop.

"I think she's 'bout ready to ride by herself, Toj’. Whatchu’ think?"

Toji hums, his fingers drumming at your hips, "You can think about it all you want, it's her that has the final say.”

"I can handle it," you answered, "I'm pretty confident... I think."

“You think?”

“Maybe a few more weeks, Peach.”

The wind picked up, the trees in the distance almost uprooting from the soil. Thunder cracked in the distance causing some of the horses to find shelter.