Oh, the mother problem.

It didn't matter what you did to ignore it, the situation had finally cropped up. Part of you felt like it might one day, even if it had mainly been a fantasy all of that time. The fact it was actually potentially happening now? That left variables that made your entire body buzz with static nerves, anticipatory pumps of the heart, and a hard cock that just wouldn't quit.

Good thing no one was around to witness that finally, huh?

You had to find a way to deal. You didn't want to cheat on Sweetie, even if the two of you weren't necessarily proper boyfriend and girlfriend. It'd still be a big betrayal of trust, and you couldn't do it to her. How you'd reacted to your mom, it wasn't out of boredom with Sweetie or a desire to be unfaithful, it was just... you knew it was a deep rooted reaction, an involuntary response that wouldn't simply go away because your conscience said that it should.

Should you talk to Sweetie about this? It felt like something that was too awkward to discuss, but at the same time, you couldn't keep secrets. Not ones like this. She might freak out, she might tell you that you were too weird, or that she didn't trust you anymore, and where would that leave you?

Alone, without her, and with a hot MILF waiting to pick up the pieces, a more lecherous part of your brain sought to remind you...

But no, you couldn't do that. Surely you couldn't, even if you did end up single somewhere down the line, because of this or because of anything else. It wasn't just the whole 'mom' thing that everyone would find insane if they ever knew—even if part of you found that same notion ridiculously hot, to the point that it made you feel as if you were going to take off like a rocket at any given moment—it was Button Mash.

You hated his guts. That really wasn't a big secret. He was crude, he had no respect for anyone, he constantly went out of his way to be a dick to you, and you didn't really owe him anything, now that you thought about it, but he was still family.

He'd been an only child for most of his life before mom decided to adopt you, and while you two might not have gotten along, he'd never asked for you to be in his life. You couldn't just start screwing his mother, no matter the circumstance. That was a betrayal of trust that you didn't feel comfortable stretching to, no matter how much you disliked him.

You kicked at the grass and the twigs as you walked along Ponyville's outskirts, your eyes travelling down a small stream as you looked for a way to take your mind off of things. Some way or another, you were going to have to deal with this, and that meant telling Sweetie Belle what had happened, explaining to your mom that you couldn't do something like that, and keeping your own latent desires in check from now on.

This family didn't need two assholes, after all, and no matter what Button might have done to you in the past, he definitely hadn't done anything to deserve being betrayed like that, by his own brother no less.

You were going to stay out for a while, you were sure. You still had a lot to go over, and didn't want to spend time around other people. You took that train ride to Canterlot after all, walking around the city, listening to the sounds of the cobbles and watching the normal people going about their normal lives with a faint feeling of envy. You ate out, but found you scarcely had an appetite. When you'd gotten to the point that your body ached from exertion and you felt too tired to do much else, you finally began to make your way home.

The train ride was long and boring on the way back, but for the first time that day, you were too worn out to think, and almost grateful for it. You already knew what you had to do anyway, considering it more was only going to drive you up the wall.

Ponyville was more muted in the nighttime. Button loved it, of course, when the only bright lights that were out came from the few clubs and bars that the town had, and he could go out and be a fuckboy with reckless abandon... it wasn't really your style though. Sure, you liked to socialise, but you'd never been one for going to clubs and picking up drunk chicks, or anything like that. It felt cheap, somehow, something that you knew your foster brother wasn't concerned about.

But that didn't stop you from admiring the aesthetics of it all. Ponyville was a weird medium in the way that it had the sleepy, country outskirts of a village, but managed to include certain attractions you might expect to find in a larger town—a lot of tourism had been brought in by Princess Sparkle’s ascension. Despite the lights you'd find in some places, others were a lot more suburban, and therefore dark, and you could see a lot of stars twinkling in the sky, guiding you all the way home.

Part of you was a little jealous of Button. It was late. No doubt he was either out partying, or had already either passed out or scored. For all of his annoying qualities, he knew how to hide them and be charismatic, and you lacked the outward level of confidence he could so easily present. It was weird, growing up, he'd always been the nerd at first, but he seemed determined to show he could be more the more time you spent around him.

You were almost tempted to go out for a little while yourself, but you thought better of it. It wasn't long until you found your way to your door, no light coming from the windows. It was after midnight, you'd been out and about for ages, and the trains had been few and far between, so you made sure to be as quiet as you could on your way in to ensure that you wouldn't wake everyone up.

The first thing you noticed when you got inside was that your jacket was hung up, kind of haphazardly. Button had made it home, then. His door was shut, and there was only quiet on the other side. You imagined he'd done the usual and gotten completely wasted.

You made your way down the corridor, steps faint, and eventually got to your bedroom. Door wasn't locked. You'd forgotten to use your key once again, apparently. You opened it and flicked the light on, squeezing your eyes shut under the sudden blast of luminescence as your pupils adjusted. Once you felt you could weather the harsh light, you finally opened them, getting ready to set about making your bed.

But the moment you looked at it, you found something strange. The bed was made already, albeit a little messily.

That wasn't right. You'd definitely thrown the mattress off when you forced Button Mash out, and Creamy Heart never went into your room. The only solution was Button, but why?

You could scarcely believe it, but as you stood there, staring, a smile crossed your lips. Had he... had he felt guilty for how he acted earlier? Was this a gesture to make up for it? You looked at the crumpled sheets with a quizzical expression, noting a slight smell of something in the air. Couldn't place your finger on it, but that was a mystery for the morning. You opened your window to let the funk out, feeling a little better about yourself as you pulled back the cover, ready to drift off for the night and worry about everything in the morning. Maybe you'd finally have a nice moment with Button Mash, who knew?

Beneath the cover, four things awaited you. They were eyebrow raisers at first, but the more you looked, the more the pieces started to come into play. A pink, frilly top, wholly transparent around the breast area, and a matching thong accompanied a small collar with a heart locket hanging off of it. You knew before looking the the inside was engraved Sweetie's bell because you'd bought the thing for her along with the underwear for Hearts and Hooves day, not that it had ever seen any use.

You could feel your heart sinking as you began to put the pieces together, moisture clinging to the edges of your eyes. Your throat was beginning to close as you spied the last object of the little array under the covers, a note that you'd seen there from the beginning, though had tried just as hard to ignore. You didn't even want to read it; you knew it would be utterly nauseating at best.

Desperate curiosity and a desire to see anything but what you expected transpire won out. Maybe it was something else. Maybe Sweetie had snuck into your locked house somehow to surprise you. Maybe she was waiting in your closet that was too small to fit a foal for all the junk inside. Maybe this was the dream.

You picked up the note, unfolding it, and found the very rough, drunken handwriting of your foster brother awaiting you.

She actually wasn't bad.

Next time, lock your door!

You wanted to scream. To take this note, kick down Button's door, ram it in his mouth and fucking choke him with it. For all you knew, he was sleeping with her in there right now, the cunt. How could he? You couldn't even contemplate it... for all of the horrible things he'd done to you since you'd moved in, you never would've imagined he'd go this far. To do this, to—

Tears didn't come. You were too angry to be upset, too vengeful to see this as anything other than a fault on your part that needed to be rectified. How hadn't you seen this coming?! Button Mash—for all of the times that you tried to imagine he wasn't, for all of the times that you tried to tell yourself he had some redeemable quality—was a complete, unequivocal, and incorrigible shitstain. You'd let him fuck with you for all of these years, you'd refused to put your foot down, and now he'd taken off with Sweetie!

He wouldn't even stay with her either. She was a fuck and chuck to him, and you knew it. Part of you was glad for that, because she wasn't much better in this situation. That trust that you'd concluded not to betray of hers when you were offered something else, something you'd wanted for years up on a platter? What had she done when put in the same position?

She'd gone for it. Of course she fucking had, because you were such a pushover. She'd done it on your fucking bed, too! They both had! And now, even through your near blinding rage, through the tears you made in the note as you bit back a scream with all the force you could muster, you realised this was the reaction he wanted from this. Maybe he hadn't been considering it at the time, you'd like to tell yourself. Just thought it would be funny in some twisted way, but no. There was some 'moral' to this in his fucked up mind, wasn't there? Something about him having told you so, and HER being the one who was unfaithful. If you reacted with anger, he'd say you were spazzing out and use it to back up his argument. That you didn't know what was good for you.

Well, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction this time. He'd gone too far. He'd been going too far for fucking years now, and not once had he seemed as if he was going to rein it in, and now you were at the point where you just couldn't take it anymore.

And so with some deep consideration and a lot of ‘inhale, exhale’, you found calm. Not just calm, you found a fucking huge grin.

Why? It wasn't because you were going to beat him by pretending this didn't affect you. That was only step one. But to work out the rest, to foster this mindset before it fizzled out and you became passive again, to get out of this house before your false placidity snapped and you went and kicked the shit out of him?

You were going to go and find one of those clubs. You needed a drink.

Author's Note

Another chapter coming hot and fresh, still plenty to come! Make sure you're tracking and rating, and lemme know how you're finding the story in the comments!