#girl is like ‘I will never do anything for myself but I will do ANYTHING for some other people’ fr

[planetaryupscaled]

The Bed We Made

Male Reader x Teyeon x Winter

Tags: 18k, smut, creampie, dubcon, incest, oral, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

It’s not often you meet a mother who is as good-looking as her daughter or the rest of the family for that matter.

-

Groaning and moaning is all i heard as I passed the guest bedroom where my cousin Chaewon had been. ‘It’s nice to see someone is having fun’ I said to myself as I walked down the hall past my sister's bedroom. Now I close my ear. Shit, I don't want to hear what happens inside there.

I didn't like Minjeong boyfriend, that's no secret. But I’d learned a long time ago to stay out of her love life. That guy was an asshole. I couldn’t hide my feeling on him, not from her, but I remained silent on the subject. I was sure Minjeong would figure it out eventually and for the time being, at least he was a good-looking asshole that seemed to make her happy.

I moved on once again toward my own room. Chaewon’s brother Sojun was there with his new girlfriend Juhyeon. He was using my room because the only other bedroom available was my mom’s and neither Minjeong nor I thought it right that he and his girlfriend sleep there. I got mom’s bed since I was the one who stupidly broke up with his girlfriend the week before.

“I really could have timed it better,” I mumbled to myself.

Minjeong and I had started planning this night from the moment mom told us that she was going out of town on business. I was twenty and going to college. Minjeong was twenty-three and already working. She still lived home while she saved up for a place.

Mom was pretty old fashioned and didn’t let the people we were dating sleep over. She was a typical mother. She liked to think of us still as kids. It would have been cute if it weren’t so annoying.

I stopped in front of my bedroom door and listened. I forgot to get a pair of sweats to sleep in out of my closet before Sojun and Juhyeon disappeared into my room. I didn’t hear anything, so I opened the door gently. I glanced at my bed and saw that they were asleep.

They were naked. My eyebrows rose in appreciation when I saw Juhyeon. I had to give him credit. I’d thought she was cute when I met her earlier, but now I realized that Juhyeon was a lot more than that. She was hot, and had a very nice body. I shook my head and looked away.

The sweat pants were easily reachable and I got them as quietly as I could. I was making my escape when I stubbed my toe. I cursed as quietly as I could.

“Are you okay?” I heard Juhyeon ask. I looked back toward the bed. She had pulled the covers up, but I could still see her curves through the sheets. She saw me looking and smiled.

“Fine,” I replied a little too quickly. “Sorry. I just needed to get something to sleep in.”

“No problem,” she said kindly. “I shouldn’t have a problem going back to sleep. I’m still pretty drunk.”

“Aren’t we all?” I grinned. “We finished almost all the alcohol we bought, and that’s saying something.”

“It was a fun night,” she smiled in return. It was sexy as hell. I looked at her and shook my head as I fought to hide my sudden and intense attraction to her.

“You know, if you do have a problem going back to sleep...” I began, and paused when I realized what I was about to say. What’s wrong with me?

“Yes?” Juhyeon asked with a raised eyebrow. I was tempted, but it wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t the type to try and steal someone’s girl. “You could wake him up. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“You think?” she smiled.

“I know,” I laughed, then glanced at my cousin who seemed almost comatose and added, “Although he seemed wiped out.”

“He is,” she replied, slowly looking at me oddly. “Do you want to fill in for him?” I was stunned. Tonight was the first time I met Juhyeon. She was pretty quiet earlier. I would never have guessed she was like this.

“No,” I replied with some difficulty. “Not that I’m not tempted, you are hot as hell,” I laugh.

“How sweet,” she teased. “Oh, thanks for the complement.”

“You deserve it,” I said, shaking my head.

“If you keep talking like that,” she smiled sexily. “I might not give you the choice.”

“I’d better be going then,” I laughed, but it was very difficult to move.

“Now look what you’ve done?” she asked. “I’m horny again. I guess I’ll have to wake him up.”

“Think you can?” I joked. “He looks passed out.”

“Watch me,” she replied confidently. Juhyeon shocked me again by reaching out and beginning to rub my cousin’s cock through the sheet. She was watching me, obviously enjoy my reaction.

‘Wow!’ I thought. ‘Drunk or not, this girl was definitely something else.

Juhyeon continued to look at me as she worked her mouth. I stood there mesmerized. She had one of the sexiest smiles I’d ever seen. She let the sheet drop slightly and exposed her breasts. I shook my head.

“I don’t suppose you have a sister?” I asked.

“Two,” she grinned. “But the younger one is only eighteen and pretty innocent.”

“And the older one?” I asked.

“You couldn’t handle her,” Juhyeon laughed.

“Maybe not,” I smiled. “But after watching this, I’d sure like to try.”

“Watching what?” she asked huskily, no longer laughing. “You mean this?” And with that Juhyeon pulled the cock from under the sheet and took it into her mouth while her eyes never left mine. I swallowed hard.

“Does he know just how much of a slut you are?” I groaned. My eyes were locked with hers.

“Not yet,” she smiled sexily, “But he’s learning.”

“Are you sure you aren’t willing to introduce me to your sister?” I joke.

“Maybe one day,” she smiled. “Or maybe I’ll let Sojun play with my sister and keep you to myself.”

“Okay,” I laugh. “Are you always like this?”

“Not usually,” she admitted. “But like I said earlier, I’m pretty drunk.”

“So, if you were sober you wouldn’t want to do what you just suggested?”

“Oh, I would want to do it,” she replied. “I just wouldn’t have suggested it, at least not so soon after starting to date Sojun and meeting you.”

“Hah you are something else.” I said, shaking my head.

“Yes, she is,” my cousin said, finally awake.

“Hey lover,” Juhyeon said, smiling at him.

“You two have fun,” I said, shaking my head again and leaving my room.

I went into the bathroom and changed into my sweats. I had to wrestle my cock inside. Juhyeon really got to me. I forced Tried to force myself not to think about it or I’d never get to sleep.

Mom’s room was the biggest and she had a king-sized bed. I shook my head sadly as I looked at it. It was too bad she never shared it with anyone. My father had disappeared right after I was born. I didn’t know him and at this point I never wanted to.

I climbed into bed and closed my eyes. I was tired, but had a hard time going to sleep. I knew what was going on in all of the other bedrooms and I had to admit that I was jealous, and horny as hell. I thought about taking care of myself, but I was in mom’s bed and I just couldn’t do it.

It took me some time to finally relax. That’s when lying in mom’s bed helped. It smelled of her and reminded me of how she used to help me calm down and fall asleep when I was a kid. In fact, mom’s bed was where Minjeong and I used to climb in when we had nightmares. Mom would play with our hair until we fell asleep.

I’m not sure how long I slept before I heard someone enter the room. It was pitch dark and whoever it was didn’t seem to be interested in putting on the light despite stumbling. I couldn’t quite remember what I was dreaming about, but I knew it was sexual. I was disappointed that my sleep was interrupted.

I opened my mouth and almost started to ask what was going on, but I stopped myself when I realized that there was no reason for someone to come in here in the middle of the night. It had to be one of the people sleeping over.

I reviewed who was in the house and a thought came to me. I felt myself stiffen instantly. Could it be? Would she do this?

I thought the answer to both questions obvious. I remembered the way Juhyeon looked at me and what she said. It had to be her. The question was, what should I do about it? She was sneaking into the room I was sleeping in, her intent obvious, but she was my cousin’s girlfriend.

‘Maybe Sojun knows. Maybe they decided to do what she said. Maybe my cousin is going to get Juhyeon’s sister while I get Juhyeon,’ I thought suddenly, but then frowned and added, ‘That’s a hell of a lot of maybes.’

I was still wrestling with myself on what to do when she climbed into bed next to me. All the sexual tension from before returned in full and I reached for her. Juhyeon we were in my mother’s bed, but I was too worked up to think or worry about it anymore. I aggressively pulled her into a kiss before she could say anything. She was naked and tasted strongly of alcohol.

Juhyeon stiffened at first when I kissed her. I guess she was surprised I was awake. She relaxed quickly enough though and ended up being a good kisser despite being drunk. She moaned softly into my mouth as I started rubbing her breasts. She took my cock in her hand and start stroking it like she did with my cousin earlier. It was my turn to moan.

I pulled off my shirt and sweats and dropped them on the floor. We were both obviously beyond the need of foreplay. I rolled on top of her and Juhyeon spread her legs wide. The scent of her excitement spread and despite being ready, I couldn’t stop myself from taking a moment to taste her. My tongue dipped deep into her pussy and she cried out. Juhyeon’s pussy was surprisingly hairy. I liked it.

“Yes! It’s been so long!”

I froze at the words. The voice wasn’t Juhyeon’s! My mind took seconds to function before it could wrap around the truth. I was lying here with my head between my mother’s legs, What the… she was supposed to be out of town!

“Don’t stop!” she cried, using both hands to pull my face against her. I didn’t know what to do. This was wrong, so very wrong!

‘Or is it?’ I suddenly asked myself. I mean, I knew it was wrong, but obviously she liked what I was doing. I loved her and if it brought her pleasure, maybe right and wrong didn’t come into it. Besides, she tasted amazing!

“Please!” she cried. “I’m close!” I tentatively started licking again almost without realizing it. She groaned and pulled my mouth against her even harder. “Whoever you are, you have the nicest tongue!”

‘She must be very drunk,’ I thought. Mom wasn’t the type to drink or sleep around. I knew that. In fact, she’d only moments ago said that it had been a long time. She obviously wasn’t thinking straight right now, but she would in time.

“Oh!” she gasped. “I’m going to cum…” Her pussy became even wetter and the taste overwhelmed me.

I refocused my attention on what I was doing and was quickly rewarded with her cum. She cried out as her orgasm took her. The sound made me smile, almost proudly. No matter what else, I’d given her a moment of ecstasy.

“That was amazing,” she said afterward. I could hear the contentment in her voice, but I also realized that she wanted more. So did I.

‘I can’t feel this way about her, It’s so wrong!’ I thought. Yet, I felt what I felt. ‘No!’

I knew it was time to leave despite my own excitement. The only problem was that she wrapped her hand around my cock and she started stroking it again before I could figure out how to make my escape. A few moments later she kissed me and all thoughts of leaving disappeared.

I was amazed at how excited kissing she made me feel. It didn’t make sense! She was my mother and you didn’t do this with your mother, only I was and it felt incredible. Her tongue danced in my mouth and I moaned. I was lying on my back now and after a few minutes I felt she start to shift on top of me. I knew what she wanted, but I wasn’t ready for that. Not with her!

I pushed her off.

“Men,” she laughed. “You’re all the same. It doesn’t matter how many years have passed.” I didn’t know what she was talking about until she took my cock into her mouth.

‘Holy shit!’ I cried silently. ‘she is giving me a blowjob’ The fact that she was very good at it only made it worse.

I moaned and rested one hand on her head. She didn’t need any direction, but it felt good to have my fingers intertwined with her hair. She wasn’t a full-figured woman, but neither was she skinny in any sense. She went to the gym every night and stayed trim. She said it was because of her job, but I knew that she was proud of her figure.

My orgasm grew close very quickly as she continued to suck my cock like crazy. She also messaged my balls with one hand. It didn’t take long for me to cum in her mouth. She drank it all down.

“I hope you don’t take long to recover,” she said afterward as she rolled onto her back. “I need this. It’s been a very long time and I’ve had a horrible last couple of days.”

I wondered what happened that made them horrible, but there was no way to find out without letting her know who I was. So instead, I kissed her again. She was obviously excited because her tongue danced wildly in my mouth.

“Oh, very nice,” she cried when she felt my cock hardening again. This time she tried to shift me on top of her. I helped despite my uncertainty. She sighed contently when she felt my weight on her and added, “I’m ready.”

The question was, was I? Would I really have sex with her? I knew she needed it and frankly, I was horny as hell, but what would happen tomorrow? How would we deal when we were both sober?

She was rubbing my cock up and down her pussy.

“Please don’t tease me!” she begged, and the next thing I knew I was pushing inside of her. None of my questions or fears had been addressed, but I was beyond caring at the moment.

She was pretty tight, but she was so excited that it didn’t take me long to push all the way in. I didn’t want to think about the only other time I’d been inside her pussy. Instead, I started stroking in and out of her.

“Yes!” she cried. “You’re so big!”

She wrapped her legs around my hips and pulled me deeper. She also raked my back with her nails. It got worse the closer she came to orgasm.

“Nghhgod….” she cried. “I’m cumming!” I was pretty sure she drew blood with her nails.

My own orgasm was still far off. I wanted to bring her pleasure and my own excitement was obvious, but this just wasn’t right. Don’t get me wrong. What we were doing felt amazing and was driving me crazy. I just couldn’t finish, not like this.

She thrashed under me as her orgasm took her. I held her through it and kept my cock pressed as deeply as it would go. It took her surprisingly long time to finish.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding almost as if she were crying. “I really needed that.”

I refused to get off of her or pull out. In fact, it wasn’t long before I started gently moving in and out of her again.

“Again?” she asked in surprise. I pushed in deeper in reply, causing her to moan.

I continued to work her pussy until her excitement grew to the point where she was once again scratching my back. Her pussy was tight, hot and wet. It felt like my cock was an iron-like rod being thrust in and out of a furnace. It was amazing, I wanted to cum inside her, but I knew that there was only one way I’d be able to do that. She needed to know the truth. Could we?

“You are beautiful,” I said, she stopped scratching my back as my words were sinking in past her alcohol filled mind. “I love you.”

“Minho?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes mom,” I answered. “It’s me.”

“No!” she cried and pushed against me wildly. I wouldn’t let her get up, but she spun around and buried herself into the bed. My cock pulled free and I groaned in disappointment.

“Mom, calm down,” I said.

“Get off!” she cried.

“No,” I said, surprising us both. My cock was still hard and wedges between her ass cheeks.

“This is so wrong…” she whimpered.

“It’s already done,” I replied. “And don’t act like didn’t love every minute of it, The bed is soaked.”

“How could you?” she asked.

“I didn’t know it was you at first,” I replied. “What’s your excuse? Just who did you think was in your bed?”

“I didn’t think!” she moaned. “I’m drunk.”

“I know,” I said more gently. “Me too.”

“Minho, please get off of me.” She asked more calmly, but obviously still in shock.

“Mom, we’ve already done the worst we can,” I said. “And it was amazing. I need to cum in you. Please let me.”

“No… Never!” she cried. “You’re my son!”

“I’m also the man whose back you scratched in passion as I drove you to orgasm,” I said.

“We can’t!” she said, but it was obvious she was weakening. I knew that tone of voice. All I needed to do was be patient and I’d get my way. I learned that a long time ago. The only problem was that I couldn’t. I shifted my cock to the entrance of her pussy.

“You wouldn’t,” she cried. I thrust my cock deep. “Stop!”

I ignored her cries, she was now a woman I wanted desperately, needed desperately.

She tried to get out from under me, but I held her in place. She fought harder, but her pussy became wetter with every passing second.

“This is so wrong.” she moaned as she finally stopped fighting and lifted her hips slightly to give me better access. I smiled and pushed in deeper.

“You’re right.” I grunted, and then leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “But that’s not going to stop you from cumming again. Me either.”

“Oh yes…” she groaned. “Cum in me… I want to feel a man fill me again!”

“Even if that man is me?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. She came to her senses and fought briefly once more, but I held her in place until her need took control again. It wasn’t very long. She was too excited to let her sense of right and wrong get in the way. I drove into her over and over again.

“Your cock is so big!” she moaned. “And you’ve found my weakness, just like your father did all those years ago.”

“Weakness?” I asked.

“Don’t make me say it!” she begged between gasps, but oddly, I knew that she wanted me to.

“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me your weakness.”

“I won’t!” she cried, suddenly fighting to get out of me again. I held her down and drove into her harder and faster. She suddenly stopped fighting and came. Her orgasm was explosive.

“Yes! Yes! Nghhh…” she moaned.

I was close, but I wasn’t there yet. She thrashed under me violently. It got so bad that my cock popped free of her. I tried to shove it back in, but I missed and ended up pushing against the entrance to her ass.

“Just like your father!” she moaned again as she froze. It took me a moment to realize what she wanted. No way?

“You want me to fuck your ass?” I asked.

“That’s disgusting!” she cried, which wasn’t a denial. I’d never taken a girl’s ass before, but the thought had always interested me. I pressed the head of my cock against the entrance to her ass more firmly. It was surprisingly tight. It didn’t help that she was fighting me once more. She was clenching her ass. I paused. What if she really didn’t want me to?

“Tell me you want me to fuck your ass and I will,” I said.

“Never!” she gasped under me. “I’m a good girl! I would never say something like that!”

“But you want me to, don’t you?” I asked. She didn’t answer. She just fought harder and the truth hit me. “That’s it, isn’t it? You like to think of yourself as normal and wholesome, but the truth is that you’re a slut.”

“I am not!” she cried. “I’m not doing this of my own free will. You’re forcing me!”

“And you love every moment of it.” I said, realizing I was right. “You like being held down. You like being taken. Admit it!”

“Minho, I’m your mother!” she cried in response.

“So?” I asked. “You’re also a woman. Admit it!”

“I can’t!” she cried. I was done talking. I knew the truth even if she wouldn’t say it. Her ass was still clenched. I was tempted to push past her resistance, but I didn’t want to hurt her. So, I shifted down her body.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I ignored her question and forced her thighs apart. Now her pussy and ass were open to me and only inches from my mouth. I stuck my tongue out and licked her pussy. She moaned and relaxed slightly, but that only lasted until my tongue moved to her ass.

“Minho, no!” she cried. “Not even you father did that!”

“His loss.” I grunted and focused on what I was doing. I also drove two fingers into her pussy and used the thumb of the same hand on her clit. It wasn’t long before she moaned loudly and she relaxed. I worked both her pussy and ass hard and she loved every minute of it.

“This is so wrong…” she finally gasped.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed easily now. I smiled and decided to tease her. “How can you just lay there and let your son have his way with your body? I’m licking you ass, what kind of a mother are you?”

“No!” she cried, and started fighting me again.

I moved up her body and pressed her down against the bed. She continued to fight until my cock pushed into her ass for the first time. She cried out and surprised me by thrusting back to meet me.

“Your ass is so tight…” I whispered in her ear as I continued to force more of my cock inside.

“So much like your father!” she gasped out again. “Only bigger!”

“Kiss me.” I demanded as my cock finally reached into the depth of her ass. Her head turned and she looked at me. The room was pitch black, but I could feel her eyes. “Kiss me. Show me just what kind of a slut you really are.”

I thought she’d start fighting me again, but she surprised me by finding my mouth and thrusting her tongue inside. I moved in and out of her ass slowly as we continued to kiss.

“Minho stop…” she cried after a while and refused to kiss me. I knew what she was trying to tell me. She was ready. She wanted me to fuck her ass hard. She needed to feel me take her.

“We’re not done yet.” I said, thrusting into her ass with more power and propping myself up. “I need to cum, I need to fill your ass.”

“No…” she cried and started fighting me. I held her down roughly and fucked her ass with everything I had. My hips slammed into her meaty ass with every stroke and made a slapping sound that drove me crazy. She liked it too. I could tell.

“I’m getting close,” I groaned after a while. “I want you to cum with me. Play with yourself.”

“No… Good girls don’t do that!” she replied.

I took one of her hands and roughly pushed it under her and between her legs. It threw my rhythm off, but that was fine for a bit. I wanted this to last. I took her hand in mine and made her rub her soaked pussy. She fought, but not a lot and not for long. It was only a few seconds before her fingers blurred on her clit without my direction.

“I can’t believe you’re forcing me to do this!” she cried as her orgasm growing.

“Shut up and just do it.” I demanded. She moaned as I started fucking her ass in earnest again. I was holding her hips now and ramming in and out of her.

“I’m cumming!” I cried as my orgasm hit.

“That’s it baby! Cum in me! Fill my ass!” She cried as her own orgasm hit. I guess in the heat of the moment she forgot she was supposed to be a good girl.

I pumped a huge amount of cum into her ass. My orgasm took me for what felt like minutes. This was the hottest moment of my life. I had to admit I liked the roughness of our sex too. It was something new to me.

“Are you okay?” she asked in what sounded like real concern when I became dead weight on top of her.

“Better than that,” I moaned as I rolled off of her. We lay there in silence for a while, both fighting to catch our breath.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said. I could almost see her shaking her head. She was calmer now.

“I know,” I said, surprising her by pulling her so that her head was resting on my shoulder. It was my turn to comfort her by playing with her hair.

“I feel so guilty,” she added.

“Don’t,” I replied. “If anyone should feel guilty it’s me. I did force myself on you.”

“We both know that’s not true,” she sighed.

“Yes it is,” I insisted. “And the truth is that I liked it. I liked it a lot. And don’t you dare say I’m so much like my father again!”

“But you are,” she said. “But only in the ways I like. You’re not the type of guy to run out on his family.”

“No, I’m not,” I agreed vehemently.

“And you are a lot bigger where it counts,” she added. She was obviously trying to defuse my anger at my father. It would always be there, but she was right. This wasn’t the time of place.

“Thanks,” I said. “Knowing that helps.”

“Men!” she laughed.

“So, why did you come home early?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Ugh,” she stareted. “I had to quit my job. My boss tried to force himself on me while we were away, and not in the way I like.”

“That asshole!” I snapped, ignoring her attempt at humor. “I’ll...”

“Do nothing,” she said in that tone all mothers used. “He was my problem and I took care of him. You will stay away from him.”

“Okay,” I said, but it was too quick and she knew.

“Minho, I’m serious,” she said. “He hit on me all trip and it came to a head when we were at a presentation. Someone was up on stage giving a talk and my boss and I were sitting with the rest of the audience. He grabbed my leg under the table and tried to reach higher.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I dumped a glass of water over his head,” she said in satisfaction. “We were in front of most of his clients. It will cost him more than you think.”

“Should’ve sued him,” I said.

“I might,” she replied. “But that’s not a conversation for tonight.”

“Tomorrow then,” I said.

“Well see,” she said, and then changed the subject. “By the way, why aren’t you sleeping in your bed?”

“Sojun and Chaewon came over,” I said nervously. It was weird really. Only a few minutes ago I was in control, holding her down and taking her roughly to both of our enjoyment, but here I was afraid to tell her that we’d had a small party while she was out.

“You and Minjeong had a party, didn’t you?” she guessed.

“Just Sojun and Chaewon,” I said, but then added guiltily. “And Changho, Gyumin and Sojun’s new girlfriend Juhyeon. I thought you were her.”

“You thought I was your cousin’s girlfriend and you jumped me?” she asked.

“Well, she did climb into the bed I was sleeping in,” I said defensively. “Besides, you’d have to meet her to understand. She’s a bit wild.”

“So,” she sighed. “What you’re trying to tell me is that my daughter, nephew and niece are all in the other bedrooms with their significant others having sex?”

“I doubt they’re still at it,” I shrugged. She surprised me by laughing.

“You just better hope your uncle never finds out,” she said when her laughed died down. “He would completely lose it.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “You seem to be handling it pretty well.”

“I’m not my brother,” she replied. “And after what we just did, I don’t have any moral high ground to stand on for the moment.”

“Well, that’s true,” I laughed.

“Minho, it’s not funny,” she sighed. “I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but that isn’t going to help tomorrow when we have to face what it means.”

“You know,” I said thoughtfully. “I like when you talk to me like this.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like a woman,” I replied. “Don’t get me wrong. I love you and appreciate everything you did for Minjeong and me growing up, but we’re adult now. Besides, I never realized just how hot you could be before.”

“That’s wrong on so many levels,” she sighed. “I’m your mother. I’m not supposed to be hot, at least not to you. Besides, we both know that you wouldn’t be saying that if the lights were on.”

I reached for the nightstand. She was clearly not expecting it when the light came on. It was soft and dull, but we’d been in completely darkness.

“Minho!” she cried, reaching for the covers. I rolled on top of her and held her in place. “Stop!”

“Relax,” I said. “I just wanted to prove you wrong. You’re just as hot in the light as in the darkness.” She froze and looked up at me. I smiled down at her.

She looked great. I knew that and so did she. She worked hard at keeping herself that way and her curves showed it.

“You know, whatever else I’d say about your boss, he has great taste.”

“Minho, get off of me,” she said, shaking her head, but smiling slightly.

“I would, but I seem to have a problem,” I said with a grin. She frowned briefly in concern, but she saw my grin and quickly realized the truth. The fact that my cock was bumping into her belly probably helped.

“No way.” she cried, but I ignored her and tried to kiss her. She twisted her face to the side and I ended up kissing her neck. I didn’t mind in the least. I worked my way up to her mouth. “Minho, we can’t… not again.”

“I want you.” I said between kisses. “And I want to look into your eyes as you cum.”

“No…” she cried again, louder.

“If you get much louder, you’re bound to get the attention of everyone else in the house. Could you just picture Minjeong’s reaction? Or uncle if one of his kids told him?”

“That’s my point.” She said. this time she kept her voice lower. “We can’t keep on doing this! We’ll get caught eventually and then what?”

“Good point,” I said, but then grinned and shrugged before adding, “But at the moment I could care less. I want you. I’m going to have you and that’s all that matters.”

She looked up into my eyes and saw that I was serious despite my grin. She licked her lips in a way that left me know she wanted it too. That was all I needed to know. I pushed my cock halfway into her pussy with one thrust.

“Stop….” she cried, fighting me once more. “I’m your mother…”

“You’re a hot woman that I want to make scream.” I growled. Her eyes got bigger as I thrust the rest of my cock inside her. She cried out and wrapped her arms around me. I started stroking in and out of her. Once again, I felt her nails on my back.

“Minho, I thought I raised a good boy.” she gasped as her orgasm neared.

“You did,” I replied. “But no one is good all the time. Not even you,” I said, “Now, be my slut and cum for me.”

“Nghhhyess…” she cried, her body locking up in orgasm. I watched her passion filled expression in awe. She really was beautiful. I’d remember this moment forever. She noticed me watching and added, “Minho cum with me… cum inside me.”

I grunted and let lose. I filled her pussy as she rolled into another orgasm. Our bodies slammed together over and over again until we were both completely spent.

“Tomorrow we’ll deal with the repercussions,” I said, holding her close afterward. “There must be some.”

“I know,” she sighed. She fell silent for a few minutes. I was starting to nod off when she shook her head.

“What?” I asked.

“You do realize that what we’re doing is incest?” she asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. “And you want to know the sick part?”

“What?”

“The knowledge is only making it better,” I answered.

“For me too,” she admitted, almost too softly for me to hear. “And I’m the mother. I should know better.”

“So do I,” I shrugged. “I’m not a kid anymore.” We fell silent for a while.

“So much for being a good girl,” she sighed eventually.

“Hey, we didn’t plan this. It just happened,” I said. “There’s no sense is beating ourselves up after the fact.”

“It has to stop,” she said.

“I agree,” I said.

“And you can’t sleep here tonight,” she added.

“I know,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room. Right after I take a shower.”

“Good,” she said, but I thought I heard a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

“You know mom,” I said innocently. “I bet you could use a shower too, and your bathroom has the nice big walk in one.” She looked at me and smiled slowly.

“Yes, it does,” she said. “I think I’ll use it first. You wait here and don’t you dare come in. It would be wrong!”

I watched her walk to her bathroom and smiled. She was seriously hot. I’d always know it, but it never really registered until now. Watching her ass wiggle as she walked made my cock stir despite my last orgasm.

I waited a few minutes until I heard her in the shower and then went to the door. I turned the knob and it opened. She hadn’t locked the door. I smiled widely and went in.

“Oh Minho. What am I going to do with you?” she asked, hiding a smile. She was standing under the shower as hot the water cascaded down her body. I shook my head as I watched.

“I have a few ideas,” I replied moving toward her.

“Don’t you dare,” she cried. “You can’t come in here!” Yet, I noticed she moved back from the door to give me room.

“We’ll see about that.” I snapped, opening the door and stepping in. I took her into my arms and kissed her roughly as she started fighting me. Oddly enough, despite her resisting me, somehow her hand found my cock and her tongue thrust deep into my mouth. This continued for some time.

“I want your ass again.” I growled when I couldn’t take it any longer.

“No…” she cried, spinning away from me.

She ended up standing on her toes with her hands against one of the shower walls. I looked at her ass and shook my head. It was round and full. My mouth literally watered.

“Please don’t kiss me down there again.” she cried as if to let me know what she wanted.

I dropped to my knees and buried my face between her ass cheeks. She cried out and thrust her ass out further, giving me better access. She was more than ready, but I took my time. Her ass tasted amazing and she clearly like how it felt.

“What are you doing?” she cried as I stood and pushed my cock against the entrance to her ass.

“Taking a good girl and making her my slut.” I whispered.

“No…” she said. I crushed her against the shower wall and shoved my cock deep into her ass and started riding her slowly.

I took her hair and pulled it into a ponytail and moved it to one side, giving me access to the back of her neck. It was pale white because she always wore her hair down. I licked it and she squirmed under me. I kissed it and her squirms became more pronounced.

“What are you doing?” she asked. The answer came without me realizing it.

“Marking what’s mine. Marking my slut.” I growled and started sucking hard on her neck. The mark I would leave wouldn’t be seen by anyone else as long as she wore her hair down, but we’d both know it was there. It was something that would last beyond tonight.

“No…” she moaned, but she pushed her ass back hard against my cock, forcing it in even deeper.

“Yes,” I snapped, pulling back and looking at my handiwork. She was marked, but it wasn’t dark enough. Not yet anyway, I kissed her neck again.

“Minho, you are going to make some girl very happy one day,” she gasped.

“I’d settle for you today,”

“I am happy,” she moaned. “It’s been so long since I had a real man and no one has ever gotten to me like you do.”

“Not even father?” I asked.

“Not even him!” she groaned. I could feel her fingers brush my cock as she played with her pussy. She was getting close. So was I.

I took her hips and started riding her ass hard. She moaned loudly and came. I continued to stroke I and out of her until she was done. After that I pulled out and spun her toward me.

Her eyes flashed hungrily as I pushed down on her shoulders. She dropped to her knees and reached for my cock, but I stopped her. I held her head with one hand at arms distance and pointed my cock at her with the other as I brought myself to orgasm.

“Open your mouth,” I demanded. She did as she continued to watch me hungrily.

The first few ropes sprayed her face and chest. Some of it made it into her mouth. She pushed my hand away and fell on my cock. I grabbed her head with both hands and fucked her mouth until I was done.

“You need to go,” she said once I was able to half focus again.

“You’re mine,” I said, still a little blurred from my lust.

“I remember,” she sighed. “And I am yours… for tonight.”

“For as long as that mark remains,” I said. She shook her head.

“I thought we agreed that this was just for tonight?” she asked.

“It’s the smart thing to do,” I said, standing up. She looked up into my eyes nervously. “But I’m not giving this up. I’m not giving you up.”

“And if I don’t want this to happen again?” she asked.

“I’ll take you against your will,” I shrugged. “And you’ll love it.”

“I know you don’t mean that. You would never force me if I really didn’t want to.”

“Mom,” I sighed, looking at her. “I’m not sure if that’s true with you. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” she said. “Go get some sleep.”

“Okay,” I said, but my mind wandered. My concern must have been plain on my face, because she took my chin and made me look into her eyes.

“Minho, don’t worry,” she said with a gently smile. “I know you better than you know yourself. You really wouldn’t force me.”

“I hope you’re right,” I sighed.

“I am,” she said confidently, and then added more softly, “But even if I weren’t it wouldn’t matter. I’ll always want you. I just don’t think it’s the right thing to do.”

“It isn’t,” I agreed, relaxing slightly. “And you’re right. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I kissed her one more time and slipped out of the shower. I dried myself quickly and grabbed my sweats and tee-shirt off the floor in her bedroom. I put them on quickly and took one last look at her bed before leaving. It was rumpled and stained with our pleasure.

It was the same bed I’d gained comfort from when I was a kid. Yet, now it was also something more. It dawned on me that my thoughts described her as well. She was the same person I knew and loved growing up, but now she was something more.

“Hey little brother,” Minjeong said as she flopped down on the couch cushion next to my head with a grin. “What are you doing sleeping out here?”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” I groaned as I sat up. “This couch sucks! I’m exhausted.”

“Weren’t you going to sleep in your mom’s room?” her boyfriend asked.

“That was the plan,” I sighed. “Until she came home.”

“Mom’s home?” Minjeong asked, no longer smiling.

“Yeah,” I replied as I stood and stretched.

“Oh shit!” Changho sigh. “She hates me as it is, and this isn’t going to help.”

I fought off a smile. Mom didn’t hate Changho. She didn’t hate anyone, but then again, he wasn’t her favorite person. Mine either for that matter.

“Does she know about the party?” he asked.

“Of course,she does,” Minjeong said, answering for me.

“Don’t worry,” I said to Minjeong. “I told her it was his idea. You should be okay.” I then turned to Changho and added, “Although, she did say something about wanting to talk to you this morning.”

“What?” he asked nervously.

“Relax,” Minjeong sighed. “Minho is just joking.”

“Very funny!” he said angrily. I shrugged.

“Changho, I think you’d better be going,” Minjeong said. “Mom’s an early riser and I don’t think you want to be here when she gets up.”

“I’m gone,” he said, giving Minjeong a quick kiss and making for the door. I frowned. This guy is annoying.

“Think we should wake up Chaewon and Sojun?” Minjeong asked.

“Probably,” I answered, forgetting about that dumb boyfriend of hers for the moment. “It will give them a chance to prepare.”

“Like you can prepare for one of mom’s lectures,” Minjeong sighed, but then added, “On the other hand, maybe they can slip out too. There’s no reason for everyone to have to face her wrath.”

“I’ll wake them,” I said.

I climbed the stairs quickly as memories of the night before drifted through my head. My hangover was bad and my head throbbed. Thinking was almost painful. I was also exhausted from trying to sleep on the couch.

The last question was the one that concerned me the most. I had no idea how to react, but I figured I’d work through it eventually. On the other hand, I was seriously worried about mom. I was afraid that there was a good chance she wouldn’t handle it at all. And then what?

I pushed open the guest bedroom door and forced the thoughts of the night before out of my head for the moment. Chaewon and her boyfriend Gyumin were asleep in the bed.

“Wake up you two.” I said, shaking the bed. Gyumin didn’t budge, but Chaewon opened her eyes.

“For God’s sake, why?” Chaewon groaned.

“Because my mom’s home,” I replied.

“Aunt? Oh shit!” Chaewon cried, and then started shaking her boyfriend.

I left the room and moved on to my bedroom. I pulled my shirt off as I went. I needed something to get me going. A shower was just the thing. I’d grab some clothes while I woke Sojun and his girl up. Maybe it would help with my hangover.

I threw open the door to find Juhyeon riding my cousin on my bed. The room smelled of sex. Juhyeon looked at me and smiled. I shook my head. She didn’t even pause in what she was doing.

“You two better hurry,” I said. “Because my mom is home and she’s bound to wake up soon.”

“Damn!” Sojun cried and pushed his girl off of him. Juhyeon clearly wanted to finish. I shook my head and went to the dresser.

I grinned to myself, remembering last night when I thought I was going to get a chance to do much more than just look. That hadn’t worked out, but something much different had.

“Minho, what the hell happened to your back?” Sojun cried as he stood and threw on his clothes. Juhyeon did as well, but she was moving slower.

“Looks like someone played with a tigress,” she grinned. It took me a second to realize what they were talking about.

“Yeah,” I said, thinking as quickly as I could. “I met a girl a couple of nights ago. She was wild.”

“She must have been.” Sojun laughed.

“You’d better get going,” I prompted. “Mom will be up soon.”

“Right!” he said.

“I’m right behind you,” Juhyeon said when Sojun looked at her impatiently. He nodded and left. I moved to leave and take my shower, but she stopped me by placing a hand on my shoulder.

“What?” I asked. She was looking at me oddly.

“Those scratches are new,” she said. “There’s no way they happened before last night.”

“No...” I began, but she covered my mouth with her hand briefly to silence my protests.

“Maybe I was wrong,” she smiled sexily. “Maybe you can handle my sister.”

“You’re older sister?” I asked. She nodded, getting very close.

“You must be wilder than Sojun describes,” she said. Juhyeon was so close that if I moved at all our bodies would touch. “Because those scratches are new and I’m the only girl not related to you in the house.”

“That’s- I...” I began, but she covered my mouth with her hand again.

“I know,” she smiled, her eyes burning into mine. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. It also doesn’t mean that it doesn’t get to me… on a purely sexual level.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that. It didn’t matter. Juhyeon removed her hand from my mouth and barely brushed her lips against mine before turning and moving toward the door.

“I’m looking forward to introducing you to my sister,” she said as she left the room. “It’s been a while since she and I double dated.”

I swallowed hard. It was such an innocent statement, but I thought there was more to it. She didn’t seem shocked at all by her discovery that I had an incestuous affair, only enticed.

“I’m sure it will be some double date,” I mumbled to myself, and then thought, ‘I think it’s time Sojun and I had a talk. I want to make sure he knows what Juhyeon is hinting at before I meet her sister.’

The shower felt good. My back stung as the water hit the scratches and I let myself dwell on how I got them for the first time since waking up. If nothing else, they were proof that the night before wasn’t a dream.

“Wow!” I said, shaking my head as the truth tried to sink it.

The whole situation from the night before was impossible, but it had happened. I knew that, and now I’d have to deal with the repercussions. I finished my shower, dried and got dressed. I even took the time to brush my teeth and dry my hair. I almost felt human again by the time I left the bathroom.

I could hear voices being raised downstairs. Mom was obviously awake and it sounded like Minjeong and her were going at it.

When I went to downstair, it was just Mom and Minjeong, and the others were nowhere to be found.

“Let me make you some breakfast before I’m leave,” Mom said, but poor Minjeong looked totally confused.

“What’s up with mom?” Minjeong frowned.

“Ease up on her,” I said softly. “Mom quit her job last night.”

“She what?” Minjeong cried, but then added, “Let me guess. It was her boss, he hit on her, didn’t he?”

“You knew about him?” I asked in surprise.

“No, but I guessed,” Minjeong sighed. “He had jerk written all over him. I’d better go in and make sure she’s alright.”

“Okay, but don’t push her,” I said. “She’ll tell you about it when she’s ready.”

“Minho, mom’s not the only one acting weird today,” Minjeong said, but then thankfully left the room before I could think of how to respond.

I moved on to the guest bedroom and clean it while he was in the shower. It didn’t take long and I had plenty to think about.

“Breakfast!” I heard Minjeong call up the stairs.

The meal ended up being surprisingly good. Mom seemed to be relaxing and I made sure not to do or saying anything to upset her. We were all laughing at one point when the phone rang. Mom picked it up.

-

“This is still my house and I don’t want it becoming party central or where you and Minho have your booty calls.”

“Booty call?” Minjoeng asked in surprise. “Where in the world did you hear that?”

“I’m old, not dead!” mom sighed.

“Who are you and what have you done with my mother?” Minjeong asked.

“Very funny,” mom sighed, glancing my way briefly. I’d intentionally remained quiet. “I guess last night opened my eyes up to a lot of things. It wasn’t just your party and sleep over.”

“I know,” Minjeong said. “Minho told me.”

“Heard what?” mom asked, clearly stunned. I knew what she was thinking.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I guess I should have let you tell Minjeong that you quit your job.”

“My job?” mom said, shaking her head. “Ah right.”

“Are you okay?” Minjeong asked.

“I will be,” mom answered honestly. “It’s just a lot to take in all at once.”

“Don’t worry mom,” Minjeong said. “Minho and I will help.”

“We’ll be fine,” mom smiled. “I’ve got enough saved before I’ll have another job.”

“I still think you should sue him,” I grumbled. “Or better yet, let me pay him a visit.”

“No.” mom snapped. “I can take of him myself.”

We changed the subject and went back to finishing breakfast.

-

“I’m wiped,” I sighed.

“I guess that means I can’t convince you to help me clean?” Minjeong asked.

“You clean? That’ll never happen. Do you even know how to wash a dish?” I joked.

“Very funny,” Minjeong said. “You jerk.”

Minjeong really wasn’t much of a cleaner. She could do it when she put her mind to it, but that wasn’t very often. I wasn’t much better, but I’d been known to throw a load of laundry on every so often. I even vacuumed upon rare occasions.

“You aren’t serious, are you?” I asked.

“Yes I am,” she replied. “Mom had a tough day.” I frowned and nodded. I was very tired, but she was right. On the other hand, cleaning could wait a little while.

“How about we take a nap first?” I asked. “Mom will be out for a while.”

“Hmm,” Minjeong said thoughtfully. “That does sound good, but I need a shower first.”

“Enjoy,” I shrugged. “Bed time for me.”

Minjeong was first to the stairs. She climbed them and it actually took me a moment to realize I was staring at her ass.

‘Pervert!’ I snapped to myself, but then I shrugged. After what happened with mom, did it really matter? I took a few moments to think about my sister and her appearance. ‘Shit, Minjeong’s pretty hot!’

It wasn’t that I didn’t know what she looked like or that I thought she wasn’t attractive before, but I’d never truly looked at her as a girl. No, that’s not right. I’d never looked at her in a sexual way, and I was now. Fuck.

Minjeong had mom’s blond hair and was built athletically. Her ass was small, but rounded nicely from all the sports she played in high school and college. She was a gym teacher and it showed. Her breasts weren’t nearly as big as moms, but they were still pretty amazing on her tight body.

“What?” Minjeong asked when we reached the top of the stairs. She obviously noticed the attention I was giving her.

“You know,” I said, breaking one of the unspoken rules between us. “You could do a lot better than Changho.” I saw her start to swell up angrily, but then she stopped and sighed, letting out a breath.

“You’re right,” she said, surprising me. “It’s too bad really. He’s handsome and smart.”

“Pretty packaging doesn’t make a good guy,” I said. “And neither does brains. And what’s with the total lack of a sense of humor?”

“Okay little brother, ease off,” she said pointedly. I raised my hands with palm toward her in surrender. Minjeong rolled her eyes and laughed.

I’d learned long ago not to comment on her boyfriends. The fact that she hadn’t jumped all over me when I offered up my opinion about Changho said a lot about how close she was to dumping him already.

“See you in a couple of hours,” I said, entering my room. The clean sheets felt wonderful and I was out almost instantly.

-

I woke up slowly. It took me a few minutes to realize I wasn’t alone in my room. Minjeong had pulled my desk chair out and was sitting in it, facing me. She looked like she’d been there for a while. I looked at her and rubbed my face as I fought to wake up. Whatever was bothering her was bad.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up.

“I couldn’t go to sleep after my shower,” she said. “I was thinking about how to break up with Changho.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered. She shrugged it off and continued.

“So, I decided to start cleaning,” she said. “I couldn’t vacuum with you sleeping so I did laundry instead.”

“Sounds reasonable,” I shrugged, fighting to get my mind fully functioning and wondering where she was going with this conversation.

“There were plenty of sheets to clean, so I started there,” she added, looking at me meaningfully. I still wasn’t processing well enough to follow her yet.

“Okay,” I offered. Minjeong frowned and shook her head before continuing.

“Can you imagine my surprise when I found four sets of dirty sheets instead of just three?” she asked. “Mom typically does laundry on Tuesdays. I was wondering why she stripped her bed this morning.”

‘Shit,’ I thought, finally catching on. ‘Oh shit!’

“So I opened them to see if she dropped something on them that might need special attention,” Minjeong continued. “They were a mess, but not really that much different than any of the other sheets. They were damp and cum stained.”

“Really?” I finally got out, my mind whirling. “I guess it’s true. Even moms need to take care of themselves.”

“Minho, there were fluids from both a woman and a man,” she said angrily. “What happened last night?”

I was tempted to deny everything and play stupid, but Minjeong wouldn’t fall for it, not after she saw my expression when she mentioned what she found. I’m sure I looked guilty as hell and Minjeong could usually read me better than anyone else other than mom.

I was also tempted to tell her that I took care of myself before mom came home and that she must have followed suit afterward, but one look into Minjeong’s eyes and I knew it was pointless, so instead, I told her the truth. It didn’t take very long.

“I can’t believe it,” Minjeong said, shaking her head.

“Honestly, me neither,” I sighed. “It’s not like I planned it.”

“But you didn’t stop it either,” Minjeong said pointedly.

“I was drunk!” I shrugged. “So was she and the truth is that we both needed it.”

“So, last night was the first time?” Minjeong asked.

“Yes,” I answered. We fell silent for what felt like minutes. I had no idea what to say and Minjeong was obviously trying to accept what she learned.

“Did you both enjoy it?” she asked, surprising me.

“I guess,” I answered uncomfortably.

“You guess?” she asked. “That’s it?”

“Okay, fine,” I sighed. “Yes, we both enjoyed it. Hell, it was the best sex I ever had, does that make you feel better?”

“It makes me feel left out,” Minjeong said glumly.

“It’s not like you weren’t busy with Changho,” I said.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” she replied. “Ever since dad died it’s been the three of us together. Now I feel like I’m on my own.”

“Why?” I frowned. “Because mom and I accidentally ended up in the same bed and let our passions get the better of us?”

“Yes,” she shrugged. I knew it was an honest answer even if I didn’t understand it.

“I’m willing to cuddle with you if that will help?” I joked badly.

“If I thought it would help, I might take you up on it,” she sighed. “But I don’t. Besides, I’m not ready for that.”

“Minjeong, you know mom and I love you.” I said.

“Yes,” she smiled, but her eyes were sad. She stood and added, “I think it’s time for a nap of my own.”

I watched her leave the room and shook my head. What could I do to make Minjeong happy? I didn’t want to see her this upset.

‘I’d better let her sleep and see how she feels when it sinks in,’ I thought. ‘Hell, it’s barely sunk in with me.’

Minjeong slept a long time. I let her. I was just thinking about waking her when mom came home. She didn’t look happy.

“My brother can be so...” she began angrily, but I cut her off.

“We have bigger problems,” I interjected. “Minjeong knows.”

“Knows what?” she asked.

“She decided to do the sheets while you were out and I was sleeping,” I said. “She found the ones to your bed.” Mom shook her head almost numbly and sank down on the couch.

“She’s twenty-three and never done a chore without me nagging and today she decides to help?” she said, obviously stunned.

I got up and went to her wine rack. It was the only alcohol left in the house because we made it off limits the night before. I poured us both a glass and handed one to her as I sat down on the couch next to her.

“How did she react?” she asked after downing half her glass.

“Oddly,” I frowned. “She wasn’t so much mad or disgusted as hurt. She feels left out. She thinks we now have something special that she’s not part of.”

“That’s bad,” mom frowned.

“I’m sorry mom,” I sighed. “This is all my fault.”

“Not all,” she said, shaking her head. “If I really wanted you to stop last night, I could have made you, but it just felt so good.”

“Yes, it did.” I said, sipping mine.

We sat there for a while. We didn’t say much, but we did finish the bottle of wine quickly enough. Minjeong came down from her nap as I was opened the second bottle. I saw her frown, but she took the glass I handed her. The three of us looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

“I know it’s been a while,” mom suddenly smiled as a thought came to her. “But I think it’s time for movie night.”

“Movie night?” Minjeong asked in surprise. “Aren’t we a little old for that?”

“That’s a great idea,” I said quickly. “You’re never too old for a movie night.”

Every once in a while, when we were kids, mom used to set up trays in her bedroom. We’d eat and watch television, something she never let us do normally. Afterward, we’d settle onto her bed and watch a movie. Mom always let us stay up late and eat plenty of popcorn and candy. It was just the bonding experience Minjeong needed now.

“Minjeong, you can choose the movie,” mom said. “I’ll order from your favourite restaurant.”

“But...” Minjeong began. It was too late. Mom was already in the kitchen picking up the phone.

“What’s gotten into her?” Minjeong asked.

“I told her what you figured out,” I replied. “She wants you to know that she loves you.”

“You told her?” Minjeong cried.

“I had to,” I shrugged. “Your reaction before was bad.”

“I was tired and hung over!” Minjeong snapped, but I knew there was more to it.

“Just humour mom and go with it. She’s really worried about you,” I sighed, and then added more softly. “So am I.”

“I’m fine,” Minjeong said, a little too quickly.

“Good,” I said. “Then a movie will be fun.”

“I really should go find Changho and break it off,” Minjeong frowned.

“Give him one more night,” I said. “I never liked the guy much, but even he deserves one more night of believing he’s dating one of the hottest girl’s alive.”

“Very funny,” Minjeong sighed.

“Who’s joking?” I replied, but then hit her with a couch pillow before she could respond. It was a short, vicious fight and although I typically won, just this once I let her.

“Will you two cut it out?” mom snapped from the doorway, but she wasn’t really angry. How could she be? Both Minjeong and I were laughing.

“How long until the food is ready?” I asked.

“You have just enough time to put on your shoes and go pick it up,” mom grinned.

“I walked into that one,” I laughed.

“I think I’d better go,” Minjeong sighed. “You two have been drinking.” I started to argue, but mom cut me off when she realized Minjeong was right.

“We’ll have everything ready when you get back,” mom said. I nodded in agreement.

There wasn’t that much to do, but we busied ourselves with getting mom’s room ready. We also continued to drink the wine, only slower now. When the second bottle was gone, we both agreed to hold off on any more until after we ate. We were well on our way to being drunk.

“Minho, stop that.” mom snapped. She was standing at the counter getting the popcorn maker ready for later.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re staring at my ass!”

“I am?” I laughed, walking up behind her. She turned and faced me quickly.

“Don’t you dare…” she says. “Hasn’t what happened already caused enough trouble?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “But you know the old adage. You can’t go back. We have to move on.”

“Agreed,” she said. “And moving on entails never making the same mistake again.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “What happened was wrong, but I wouldn’t exactly call it a mistake.”

“Minho, you can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I am,” I said. “I really liked what happened. So did you.”

“I did not…” mom cried, but we both knew she was lying. “Okay, I was drunk and in need and you took care of it admirable, but it’s wrong.”

“And that makes it even hotter.” I groaned, pulling her into a kiss. she returned the kiss despite her protests, but when it was done she pushed me back with both hands.

“No…” she said. “Tonight is about Minjeong. We hurt her and that’s unacceptable.”

“You’re right,” I said, but then pulled her again. “But Minjeong isn’t here right now and just looking at you is driving me crazy.”

“Minho!” she cried. She spun away from me, but I had her trapped against the counter. I thrust my hard-on against her ass to let her know just how much she was getting to me. “We can’t… There’s no time…”

“I don’t know about that,” I grinned, lifting her skirt up past her ass and pushing her panties down. I was wearing sweats and they dropped past my cock easily enough. She was try to fight, but she thrust out her ass giving me access to what we both wanted. She moaned when I pushed my cock inside her pussy.

“Oh Minho…” she moaned. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know,” I grinned. “But I do know what you’re going to do for me.”

“There’s no time!” she moaned.

“Then hurry,” I groaned in reply, picking up the pace.

She was leaning over the counter as I fuck her hard. I was just starting to feel my orgasm approaching when I heard the front door open.

“Fuck.” I cried, pulling out quickly.

“No…” she moaned in frustration. “I was so close!”

“Sorry,” I said, meaning it. God, did I mean it?

“Just go stop your sister from coming in here.” she snapped. “If she walks in right now, she’ll know what we were just doing and that wouldn’t be good.”

“Agreed,” I said, pulling my sweats back up. I also pulled my shirt down and let it cover my front. It was the best I could do.

“Mom went crazy,” Minjeong said when she saw me. “There’s more food than we could eat in a week.”

“She’s really looking forward to this,” I said. “Let’s go set the food out upstairs. She’ll join us in a minute.” Minjeong must have sensed something because she looked at me funny. I guess it made sense. Only a few moments before I was stroking in and out of mom. That wasn’t something that was easy to hide, especially considering I had to stop abruptly just before my release.

I tried to focus on looking as innocent as possible, but I wasn’t sure I fooled Minjeong. On the other hands she didn’t say anything as we brought the food upstairs.

It was weird to be back in moms’ room after the night before. Scenes of what happened flashed in my head and they didn’t nothing to help calm down my already surging libido. I went to the bathroom and threw some cold water on my face after the food was set out. It helped.

The meal was delicious and we laughed and watched television during it. It was like old times except for the fact that my eyes lingered on mom overly long upon occasion. She would frown when she noticed until I looked away. I think Minjeong might have noticed once, but she just shook her head and took a sip of her wine.

The movie Minjeong picked was decent for a chick flick. We were all slightly drunk by the time it ended. We’d done a good job of denting mom’s wine collection, but the food balanced it.

“Another movie?” mom asked.

“Sure, why not?” Minjeong smiled. Mom and I exchanged a smile of our own. Minjeong seemed okay.

“Can I choose?” I asked.

“Please…” mom snorted. “I don’t want to watch something gory right now. The food is just settling in.”

“And porn is out too,” Minjeong joked.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it,” I teased back.

“And what makes you think I’ve never tried it?” Minjeong asked. She was clearly feeling no pain.

“Minjeong!” mom cried.

“Come on mom,” Minjeong grinned. “Are you telling me you never watched porn?”

“I haven’t,” mom shrugged.

“Wow,” Minjeong laughed. She was obviously drunker than I thought. “I would think in this day and age everyone’s seen porn, or at least a clip. I mean the internet makes it all so available.”

“Not me,” mom shrugged. “I worked with computers all day. Why would I want to be on one at night?”

“Mom, you really need to get a life,” Minjeong sighed.

“That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” I asked in surprise.

“Oh please…” Minjeong said, rolling her eyes. “If mom had one, maybe she wouldn’t have had sex with you last night and ruined everything.”

“That’s not fair!” I said. Mom put her hand on my arm.

“Maybe Minjeong is right,” she said calmly, but her eyes were welling up with tears.

“Oh shit!” Minjeong sigh when she realized what she’d said and how badly mom was taking it. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“I know dear,” mom sighed. “But that doesn’t make you wrong. I don’t know why I let Minho do what he did.”

“You didn’t let me,” I said. “I didn’t give you a choice.”

“Oh Minho…” mom sighed. “Like I said earlier, you couldn’t...”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish. I grabbed her and kissed her. Mom was so surprised that she didn’t fight at first, but it wasn’t long before we were wresting on the bed. I rolled on top of her and pinned her under me before kissing her again.

“Wow.” Minjeong sigh, reminding me she was there.

“And that’s what happened last night,” I said, moving off with some difficulty. “She couldn’t have stopped me if she wanted to.”

“But I didn’t want to,” mom said, sitting up and wiping her lips. “And that’s really the point.”

“This is a lot more than just incest,” Minjeong said, shaking her head. “You two are seriously perverted!”

“And you’re not?” I asked. “I heard your bed last night. It was slamming into the wall pretty hard.”

“He’s my boyfriend! that doesn’t make me perverted!” Minjeong groaned.

“But you can’t say that you didn’t like what you just saw. I can see it in your eyes.” Mom said.

“So?”

“So, if you weren’t perverted you would have been disgusted,” mom replied. “Instead, you got excited.”

“I’m both,” Minjeong said.

“Maybe, but you’re a lot more of the second,” I grinned.

“I’m drunk,” Minjeong said again.

“We all are,” I shrugged. “What does that have to do with it?”

“It’s the alcohol making the sight of you two kissing turn me,” Minjeong said.

“I doubt it works that way,” I said.

“Drinking lowers your inhibitions,” mom put in. “It doesn’t make you like something you don’t.”

“Fine!” Minjeong snapped. “I’m just as perverted as you two! Does that make everything alright?” She ran out of the room before either one of us could answer.

“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “How did we get here?”

“I think we both know the answer to that,” mom frowned. “What we did was a mistake. I knew it then, but I didn’t realize how badly Minjeong was going to take it.”

“Me neither,” I frowned. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” mom said, and for some reason that shook me. Mom always knew what to do.

“I think we need to sleep on it and see how she’s feeling in the morning,” I finally said. Mom nodded.

“You need to sleep in your own bed tonight,” she said.

“Agreed,” I sighed, standing and going to my room without kissing her goodnight, but only because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop despite what was going on with Minjeong. I loved her and didn’t want to make her upset.

I lay in bed for quite a while, unable to fall asleep. My mind vacillated between my desire for mom and my concern for Minjeong. Hell, there was a part of it that even wondered what being with Minjeong would be like.

‘Pervert!’ I grumbled, but that only made it worse.

I closed my eyes and tried to wipe all the thoughts from my head. I pictured a white room with no corners. It was my version of counting sheep. It started to work.

“Minho?” I heard from the doorway to my room. It was Minjeong’s voice. “You still awake?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“I’m sorry about before,”

“Me too,” I sighed. “I know mom feels bad too.” Minjeong came into my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

“You know what all this goes to show?” she asked.

“What?”

“That I should never do laundry ever again,” she replied. “I would never have found out if I didn’t.” It was a weak attempt at humour, but it was an attempt nonetheless.

“The man you marry better be rich,” I teased. “He’ll need to hire a cook; a maid and god knows what else.”

“Ha Ha, Very funny.”

“Hey, the truth hurts,” I laughed.

“Jerk!” she snapped, but she was laughing too. It lasted far too long, but she obviously needed it.

“Minho, I want to go back to mom’s room,” she said afterward. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” I said. “But what for?”

“We always end a movie night by falling asleep together,” Minjeong said softly. “I miss that.”

“Well let’s go,” I smiled, getting out of bed and taking Minjeong by the hand. We went down the hall and knocked on mom’s door. The light was still on so I knew she was awake, but she took a few moments to answer the door.

“Come in.” she finally called.

I opened the door and led Minjeong in. I took one look at mom and saw that she’d been crying. Damn Minjeong noticed too, but didn’t say anything.

“Yes?” mom asked.

“Move over,” Minjeong smiled and climbed into mom’s bed. I moved to the other side and got in as well. Minjeong was already resting her head on mom’s shoulder. “Sorry mom.”

“No, I’m sorry,” mom replied.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” I put said. “After a good night’s sleep.”

“Sounds good,” Minjeong said, reaching out the nightstand and shutting the light. “Good night.”

“Night,” mom said.

“Sweet dreams,” I put in. I knew I was going to have some. I was in bed with my her again and it was dark. I was sorely tempted to touch her, but I knew it would be a mistake. The thought of Minjeong being in bed with us didn’t help at all.

I’m not sure who fell asleep first, but I know I was last.

“Wow…” I heard as I slowly woke up. It was Minjeong’s voice again. “Is he always like that in the morning?”

“How should I know?” mom asked in reply.

“But you’ve seen it before,” Minjeong said, her voice a little excited. I was awake now, but I didn’t open my eyes. I had a feeling I knew what they were talking about. I could feel my hardness even with my eyes closed.

“Yes,” Mom replied nervously.

“You’ve felt it inside of you?” Minjeong asked. She knew the answer, but I guess she wanted mom to say it.

“Minjeong!” mom cried in surprise, but then slowly added, “Yes.”

“Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” mom admitted. “Very good.”

“He’s big, isn’t he?” Minjeong asked. “I mean, I know he’s bigger than Changho, but he’s big in general, right?”

“Minjeong, I have a feeling that you probably have as much experience with men as I do,” mom answered. “But I’d say yes. He’s big. He’s certainly bigger than your father.”

“Who would have thought it of my younger brother?”

“Maybe we should cover it up” mom said.

“No, leave it. I like looking at it.”

“But he’s your brother!”

“And your son,” Minjeong said pointedly. That quickly quelled mom’s protests. “I still can’t believe that you both really did it.”

“You and me both,” mom sighed.

“Do you regret it?” Minjeong asked. “I mean really regret it, not just feel guilty about it because it’s wrong.”

“I regret how it’s affected you,” mom replied. “Neither one of us wanted to hurt you.”

“I know that,” Minjeong sighed. “It’s just that it’s been the three of us for so long. I didn’t realize just how much the thought of you two excluding me from something would hurt.”

“Minjeong, you weren’t excluded,” mom said. “At least not intentionally.”

“But that’s how I feel,” she replied, sounding sad.

“So, you’d feel better if we’d included you in our perverted, incestuous affair?” mom asked in disbelief.

“I honestly don’t know,” Minjeong replied. “But maybe…”

“You’re serious?”

“It would be wrong, but I wouldn’t feel so alone like I do right now,”

“Oh Minjeong,” mom said. “Don’t cry. You know I love you with all my heart.”

“I do,” Minjeong said, obviously fighting back the tears. I felt guilty making believe I was sleeping through this, but ‘waking up’ right at this moment would only make things worse.

“Are you going to be okay?” mom asked after a while.

“I’ll be fine,” Minjeong replied slowly. “But only if you do me a favor.”

“What?” mom asked.

“I want you to kiss me,” my sister said. “Like you kissed him last night.”

“But you’re my daughter!”

“And he’s your son,” Minjeong replied. “That didn’t stop you.”

“I didn’t kiss him.” mom cried. “He kissed me.”

“True,” Minjeong said, and suddenly I could feel the bed move.

“What are you doing?” I heard mom cry. “Don’t!”

“I want to kiss you,” Minjeong said. “Don’t you love me the same you do Minho?”

“Of course, but you’re a girl.” mom argued.

“So?” Minjeong asked. “Haven’t you ever kissed a girl before?”

“No!” mom cried.

“Well, I have,” Minjeong replied.

“On God!” mom cried.

“It was a long time ago when I first started dating,” Minjeong said. “Chaewon and I practiced kissing each other.”

“Your cousin?” mom cried.

“Oh relax,” Minjeong sighed. “All we did was kiss. It’s no big deal.”

“Did you like it?” mom surprised me by asking.

“Honestly… yes,” Minjeong replied. “It was the best kiss I had for a long time, but I think that was mostly because it was also the most relaxed. Eventually I met some guys who kisses drove me far crazy.”

“Like your brother’s,” Mom said, sounding thoughtful.

“I don’t know,” Minjeong said. “I’ve never kissed him.”

“Why don’t we wake him and you can see?” mom offered.

‘Oh yes, please’ I thought to myself.

“Mom, I want to kiss you first,” Minjeong said.

“I can’t.” mom moaned. “I just can’t do it!”

“Then you do love Minho more than you do me” Minjeong said, obviously close to tears again.

“You’re wrong.” mom cried, sounding teary-eyed herself. It was time to wake up. This was only moments away from disintegrating into something very bad.

“Minjeong,” I said as I opened my eyes and sat up. “Weren’t you paying attention last night? Or just a few minutes ago when mom tried to tell you her problem with kissing you?”

“You’re awake!” mom cried.

“Of course,” I smiled.

“I don’t understand,” Minjeong frowned.

“She just told you that she didn’t kiss me,” I explained. “Mom thinks of herself as a good girl. She doesn’t do things like incest and lesbianism.” I laugh.

“But...” Minjeong began. I cut her off.

“She’s never going to kiss you,” I interjected. “But that doesn’t mean she’ll stop you from kissing her.”

“She just did,” my sister cried. “I tried, but she pushed me back.”

“Try harder,” I grinned.

“Hey, Wait a minute…” mom cried, but I silenced her by grabbing her by the neck and pulling her lips to mine. Mom fought at first, but then moaned softly into my mouth.

“See?” I said, pulling back. Minjeong was smiling once again.

“I get it,” she grinned.

“Don’t!” mom cried, but she licked her lips in excitement. “Good girls don’t kiss their mothers!”

“And whatever gave you the idea that I’m a good girl?” Minjeong laughed, taking mom’s head in both hands and kissing her. Again, mom fought, but only for a few moments. Minjeong moaned happily when mom’s mouth opened.

“That looks hot” I groaned.

“Don’t worry brother,” Minjeong grinned. “I have a kiss waiting for you too.”

“Just a kiss?” I asked.

“You’re terrible!” Minjeong laughed, shaking her head before leaning toward me. Her lips were only inches from mine when she stopped. “I shouldn’t. You’re my brother.”

I grabbed Minjeong’s the neck the same way I had grabbed mom’s moments before. I pulled her to me and our lips met. She didn’t fight me like mom, but it was obvious that she wanted me to be aggressive.

“That’s so wrong,” mom moaned excitedly.

“Oh, but he kisses so nicely.” Minjeong moaned.

“It’s not the only thing I do nicely,” I grinned.

“Don’t you dare.” mom cried.

“Think you’re man enough, little brother?” Minjeong asked, her eyes starting to burn with the same lust I could see in mom’s eyes. I was certain it was in mine as well. I took off the few clothes I had on. Minjeong did the same.

“Minjeong don’t… He’s your brother!”

“And you’re my mother,” Minjeong replied. “I wish I was a little braver because then I would try doing something more with you.”

“Oh shit.” I moaned, my cock standing straight out by now. “Now that’s hot.”

“You do like the thought, don’t you little brother?” Minjeong grinned, taking my cock in her hand and stroking it. “Or should I call you big brother?”

“You can call me whatever you want,” I groaned. “Just don’t stop what you’re doing.”

“How about we let mom help?” Minjeong asked. “I don’t want her to feel left out.”

“No.” mom sigh, but everything else about her demanded to be part of what was happening.

Minjeong forced mom’s head down to my lap. Mom fell on my cock despite her protests. Minjeong watched hungrily for a few minutes. Mom’s hair was in the way, so she pulled it into a ponytail and lifted it.

“What’s that?” Minjeong frowned, looking down at mom’s neck. The hickey I left was very noticeable.

“Mom said that we could only be together for one night,” I answered, remembering. “I disagreed and left that mark. I told her she was mine until it faded.”

“Do you always mark what’s yours?” Minjeong asked, smiling sexily. She was obviously enjoying teasing me.

“Yes.” I groaned. “Now why don’t you help mom?”

“Oh?” Minjeong grinned sexily before moving down between my legs as well. She pushed mom’s mouth off of me and started licking my cock. Mom shifted down to my balls and sucked gently.

“Oh fuck.” I grunted. “I’m not going to last long with both of you doing that.”

I had one hand on each of their heads and I couldn’t stop myself from thrusting up into Minjeong’s mouth. She locked eyes with me briefly and then took my entire length down her throat. I groaned and came. Minjeong drank it all down.

“We have to stop.” mom said afterward. Minjeong smiled at her and then pulled mom’s lips to hers and exchanged a deep kiss. It actually took me a few moments to realize they were sharing my cum.

“Damn.” I groaned, actually feeling my cock start to stiffen despite the orgasm I had moments ago.

“Little brother,” Minjeong said, pulling back from mom after a while and wiping her lips. She looked at me and I smiled knowingly. “Will you help me?”

In moments I was on top of her with my cock rubbing up and down her entrance. Minjeong took it in her hand and directed to her pussy. I pushed in slowly.

“Oh brother… yesss!” Minjeong cried. “You’re going so deep!”

“Minho no!” mom cried. “She’s your sister!”

I pulled mom to me and kissed her roughly. She gasped into my mouth. I reached out and palmed her pussy, thrusting the middle fingers deep.

“Don’t worry mom,” I said. “You’re next.”

“No…” she cried, but then shifted so that her mouth was next to my ear. She whispered one word and pulled away. “Hurry…” It surprised me and my cock stiffened even more.

“I’ve never felt so full before!” Minjeong gasped. I leaned forward and kissed her as I began stroking in and out of her hot pussy. Her pussy was perfect, it was tight! Minjeong wrapped her arms around my shoulder as I thrust into her.

“He’s your brother. You’re letting your brother fuck you!” mom cried.

“Oh yeah…” Minjeong moaned. “Keep talking mom. It’s only getting me hornier!” I saw mom smiled slightly.

“It’s so wrong.” mom cried. “I don’t care how good his big cock feeling pushing inside of you.”

“Ohhh It does… It does feel so good!” Minjeong moaned. “Minho’s cock is reaching deeper than any other guy ever has before! I can feel my orgasm building.”

“Wait until it hits,” mom said, looking at me hungrily and forgetting herself for a moment. “Minho knows how to make your body feel like it’s exploding.”

“Nghhyesss!” Minjeong cried.

“But that doesn’t mean you should let him do this,” mom added, staring at her expression once more. Minjeong’s face was completely lit with her lust. “Don’t let him fill your pussy with his cum!”

“Oh yess!” Minjeong moaned. “Fill my pussy! Please!”

“You are such a slut.” I groaned, kissing her roughly.

“Minjeong, you see?” mom asked. “Now your brother thinks you’re a slut, is that what you want?”

“I want him to cum in me!” “Minjeong gasped. “I don’t care if he thinks I’m a slut. I’ll be his slut if he just cum in me!”

“So you want to be his slut?” mom asked rhetorically, but she then surprised me by turning to me and added, “If that’s what she wants then you’re doing it wrong.”

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“Sluts get taken from behind,” mom smiled. “You know that.”

“Oh yes!” Minjeong moaned. “He’ll get even deeper than way!”

I pulled out without another word. Minjeong kissed me briefly before rolling onto her stomach. Her tight ass was same as mom’s, just as enticing. her pussy was open and inviting. My mouth literally watered.

“Wait… what are you doing?” Minjeong asked as instead of going back to fucking her I shifted lower and thrust my tongue into her pussy.

“That’s it,” mom cried. “Lick the little slut’s pussy!”

“Mom!” Minjeong cried.

“You said you wanted to be his slut, now deal with it!”

“Ohhh….” Minjeong cried. “You’re going to pay for that later!” Mom smiled again.

I continued to lick her pussy until she was on the brink of orgasm. She arched her back and gave me full access.

“Minho’s little slut, do you want to cum this way or do you want him to fuck you again?” mom asked Minjeong.

“Fuck me please!” Minjeong moaned. I shifted up and thrust my cock deep with one long stoke.

“Wow.” mom gasped.

“Ohhfuckkk!” Minjeong cried. “I’m going to cum…”

I was close, but not there. I fuck Minjeong through her orgasm. She shivered and shook for quite some time. The sight was something I’d remember forever.

“Stop!” Minjeong cried. “I can’t take anymore.”

I pulled out slowly and she sighed. I turned toward mom and she bit her lip. She saw my expression and saw the look in my eye. She looked frightened despite her excitement.

“Now,” she started. “Leave me alone, you’ve already had Minjeong.”

“Come here.” I demanded.

“No!” she cried and tried to get off the bed. I grabbed her and pulled her back on. Mom rolled onto her stomach, but her hips were raised high and I could see her excitement in her swollen lips and pink gasp. My tongue was drenched in her juices a moment later.

“Wow?” Minjeong said, shaking her head. “Mom, you’re a bigger slut than I am.”

“I am not!” mom cried and tried to get away. I’d barely tasted her, but she was ready. I forced my mother back onto the bed and pushed into her from behind. The sound of her ass made when my hips slapped into it was louder, more enticing.

“Mom, be ready for the ride of your life.” Minjeong said, shaking her head.

“I am…” mom gasped.

“So, you want me to do this?” I teased.

“No…” mom cried right away. “Get off me!”

“You first!” I grunted.

“Very funny,” Minjeong said, rolling her eyes at my bad joke. I could care less. I’d just fucked her and now it was mom turn.

“Minho, this is so wrong!” mom cried as she met my thrusts.

“It really is,” Minjeong said, smiling. “But you love every second of it and you know it! You love how his cock feels stroking in and out of you. You love the thought of him cumming deep inside you!”

“No!” mom cried, but then she locked up in orgasm. She shivered and shook under me for a long time.

“We can’t keep doing that,” mom sighed as she came down from her orgasm.

“Sure you can,” Minjeong grinned. “After all, he marked you as his that first night. I can still see the bruise.”

“Only until it fades,” mom shrugged. “Nothing lasts forever.”

“True,” Minjeong said, standing up. “And I don’t think it’s fair that he marked you as just his. I like to think of you as mine also.”

“I’m willing to share mom with you,” I said, standing as well. “I’m willing to share all the incestuous sluts in my life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Minjeong asked. I pulled her toward me and kissed her. Minjeong responded with just as much passion.

“That I want you to be my slut too,” I growled.

“I’m not marked,” she shrugs.

I shifted her around until I was behind her. I had one hand around her breast, pulling her back into me. My cock was lodged between her ass cheeks. I used the other hand to lift her hair off her neck. Minjeong’s head fell forward and I sucked on her neck.

“Yes…” she gasped. “Make me yours.”

I left a hickey on the back of her neck, just like mom’s. I also shoved her against the nearest wall and started fucking her again. Minjeong moaned with every thrust.

“Cum in me please…” she cried when her next orgasm was about to take her.

“Yess…” I growled and flooded her pussy with my cum.

“Ohh…” Minjeong cried as her orgasm exploded. “It feels so… good!” We both ended up against the wall panting and trying to hold ourselves up.

“You two better sit down before you fall,” mom said. She was watching us from the bed. I was pretty sure she’d been playing with herself as well, but she stopped after we came. I helped Minjeong to mom’s bed. We both all but fell in it.

“Mom,” Minjeong said. “Kiss me please. I want you to be part of how I feel.”

“Of course,” mom said.

“You know,” I said. “You two could do more than just kiss.”

“We’re not lesbians!” mom said.

“Mom,” I smiled. “Lesbian or not, you love her, it’s just a kiss.” I said.

“Or at least let me take it,” Minjeong smiled.

“Possibly,” mom admitted with a slow smile of her own.

“And one day I might,” Minjeong said, surprising us both. “But not today. I’m not ready.”

“No rush,” I smiled. “Why don’t we just spend the day in bed?”

“No,” mom said, sounding serious. “I have some stuff to get done.”

“And I have to talk to Changho,” Minjeong put in. “It’s bad enough you two have made me a slut, but I don’t want to be a cheating slut.”

“Oh Minjeong,” our mother said. “Must you talk like that?”

“Sorry mom,” Minjeong smiled. “I’ll hide what I am from the real world like you want me to. Besides, I’m really only my brother slut anyway.”

“What about mine?” mom asked.

“Nope,” Minjeong laughed. “You don’t want a slut. You want to be a slut.”

“I do not!” mom cried.

“Sure you do,” I put in.

“Until your mark disappears,” mom agreed.

“You know mom,” Minjeong said thoughtfully. “I think if I ever do take things further between you and me, I’ll need to mark you as mine too.”

“It only seems fair,” I grinned.

“Hey, you both know this can’t go on forever, right?” mom started.

“Sure,” I said.

“Of course,” Minjeong added.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun while it lasts,” I added.

“Agreed,” Minjeong said, exchanging a look with me. We both obviously had the same thought. “I guess I can wait a little longer to tell Changho.”

“Don’t even think about it.” mom cried. Minjeong and I both moved toward her. Mom’s eyes flashed as she tried to get away and she protested loudly when we caught her. The only thing louder was a moan a moment later.

—

“Looking good!” I said as Minjeong walked by my room in nothing but a towel.

“Thanks,” she smiled, pausing at the door. She was blond and beautiful.

“Are you in a rush?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.

“Yes, so don’t even think about it.” she snapped, not buying it for a moment. She knew what I wanted. I grinned and shrugged. Minjeong smiled at my reaction, shook her head and then added, “Truthfully, I wish I did have the time, but it’s my week to oversee the early morning workouts in the weight room.”

“What a life,” I teased.

“Tell me about it,” she sighed.

“Please…” I snorted. “You love your job.”

“It’s okay,” she replied.

“Come on,” I teased. “How does it feel to know that you’re every teenage boy’s fantasy?”

“What?” she asked.

“Minjeong, you teach in high school,” I explained. “Not only that, you are beautiful. You’re the hot gym teacher every boy thinks about late at night.”

“Oh joy,” Minjeong said sarcastically. “That’s a picture I could do without.” I couldn’t help it but laughed.

“You love it though.” I teased. She shook her head again and didn’t bother arguing.

“Minho, make sure to wake mom up on time,” she said, changing the subject. “She’s got her third interview today.”

“I know,” I smiled. “Did you see how nervous she was last night?”

“She has a right to be,” Minjeong replied. “This job is perfect for her.”

“She deserves it,” I smiled. “I can’t believe how quickly it’s moving.”

“It was pretty cool when she got a call from her old company’s biggest competitor the morning after she quit,” Minjeong said.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “She’ll do fine.”

“Fine?” Minjeong frowned. “She’ll do great!”

“True,” I laughed. “I just wish she didn’t have to fly across the country and spend days at their corporate office.”

“Oh, don’t worry” Minjeong smiled. “Mom will be home before you know it. Besides, I’m still here. I’ll take care of you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I laugh. “You can’t cook and your cleaning leaves something to be desired.”

“Jerk.” Minjeong laughed.

“On the other hand, there are some things you do very well,” I said, smiling slowly.

“Not if you keep being so mean to me,” Minjeong said pointedly and moved past my doorway.

I smiled contently. It was only two weeks since mom quit her job and everything changed so drastically at home. We were all happier now. I wasn’t sure it could last and mom kept bringing up the fact that it couldn’t, but right now I was enjoying myself immensely.

I heard Minjeong leave the bathroom and go into her bedroom. She was done there surprisingly fast. She was one of those morning people. Ugh!

“I’m leaving,” she said as she stopped by my doorway on the way out. “Go wake mom up.”

“What I have to do it?” I asked, far too comfortably to move.

“Mom needs something to help relieve her anxiety about the interview and you’re it.”

“Are you crazy?” I laughed. “She’ll be wired! If I try and go near her...”

“That’s the point,” she interjected. “Do what you always do and don’t give her a choice. She’ll thank you afterward.”

“You could do it,” I offered hopefully.

“No, I can’t,” Minjeong said.

I sighed, reading her expression. “I get it.”

“The thought of mom and me together must really turn you on,” Minjeong said, looking at me thoughtfully. “You bring it up all the time.”

“Hmm,” I said. “Let me think? My mother and sister in bed together. Two beautiful women driving each other crazy. You bet.”

“Pervert!” Minjeong laughed.

“Takes one to know one,” I called as she disappeared down the hall. I heard her leave a few minutes later. “I guess I should wake mom.”

The trip to her room was short. I didn’t bother putting any clothes on. I opened the door and saw mom sleeping in her bed. The sight made me smile.

Instead of shaking her awake, I climbed into bed next to her and pulled her into my arms. She didn’t wake up at first. She snuggled closer instead. I hugged her tight and then kissed her gently.

“Now that’s the way to wake up,” she moaned, returning my kiss.

“Only the beginning of it,” I replied, giving her another kiss before slipping under the covers.

“Minho, what are you doing?” she asked groggily. I ignored the question.

The answer was obvious.

She slept in the nude these days as well. We all did. Frequently we ended up together on the weekends, but most weekdays we slept in our own beds because otherwise we’d all be too exhausted the next day.

“Hey stop!” she gasped when I buried my face between her legs. “I have to get ready. I don’t have the time.”

“Sure you do,” I disagreed, running my tongue up and down the length of her pussy.

“We shouldn’t.” she moaned, spreading her legs and giving me better access.

She tasted just as amazing as always. She had plenty of time before she needed to leave for her flight and I planned on making it memorable. It wasn’t long before my tongue was working her clit just the way I knew she liked it.

“Oh…” she moaned as her orgasm neared. “You’re tongue is so…” I thrust a finger inside of her in response.

“Cum for me.” I demanded.

“Nghhnooo…” she cried, fighting the inevitable. A few moments later her orgasm took her. I licked and sucked until she was done.

She was smiling contently as I moved from under the covers to lie next to her. My lips were still damp with her juices, but she didn’t hesitate in kissing me. She was obviously ready for more despite her orgasm.

Her hand found my cock and she stroked it, not that I needed the stimulation. I was already hard. On the other hand, it did feel really good. I enjoyed what she was doing for a few moments before pulling her on top of me.

She gasps of surprise quickly turned into a moan when I took her hips in both hands and shifted her body until my cock was lined up with her pussy. She was still soaked. I pushed my cock up into her.

“Oh… this is new.” she cried, obviously enjoying the position as I held her hips steady and thrust into her a few times.

“It’s because you like to play hard to get,” I laughed. “I usually have to chase you and hold you down.” I thought she was going to pull off of me.

“You’ve corrupted me…” she whispered lustfully as she started slowly moving up and down.

“So you like having sex with me now?” I teased.

“I’ve always liked it,” she answered in that same lust filled tone. “It’s just so wrong!” I reached up and cupped her breasts.

“But that’s the part you love best, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes…” she admitted, squeezing down on my cock. “And that’s why I keep saying we have to stop. Minho, the last couple of weeks with you and your sister were completely wrong in so many ways, but the truth is that I’ve never been happier. I love you two with all my heart and the pleasure we share, sick and twisted as it is, is more than I could ever have hoped for, but it can’t last forever.”

“I don’t want to talk about that now,” I groaned. “Instead, why don’t you tell me how it feels to ride my cock?” She looked down at me and bit her bottom lip.

She looked ready to continue her argument. I thrust up into her with more strength and pinched both of her nipples gently. She gasped. I could feel her giving in slowly.

“Incredible.” she finally moaned, picking up the pace. She was now bouncing on my cock slowly.

“Focus on that and nothing else.” I demanded.

“Nghhh.” she gasped; her argument forgotten. “Your cock is so big. It fills my insides completely.”

I reached up and pulled her toward me. I kissed her passionately and then shifted her just enough for me to kiss her full tits.

“You like my breasts?” she asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear me say it.

“They’re perfect.”

She smiled and leaned forward, propping herself up with her arms and dangling them in my face. She swayed slowly, teasing me. I enjoyed it for a few moments, but could only take so much of that.

I knocked her arms out of the way and buried my face between her breasts as her torso fell on me. I held onto her hips tighter and started thrusting up into her with short fierce strokes.

“Yes!” she cried as our bodies slapped against each other. It didn’t take long for her orgasm to build. I rolled us around until I was on top and continued stroking in and out of her, only now my thrusts were much longer and deeper. Her nails racked across my back.

“Try not to draw blood this time,” I groaned.

“It’s not like I do it on purpose.” she gasped.

I grabbed her hands and held them above her head, against the bed. She looked up at me and smiled. Her expression was one of lust. I took her beauty in and shook my head.

I held her like that while I thrust in and out of her over and over again, getting faster as time went by. I watched her expression as her orgasm threatened. There was nothing more beautiful to me then the passion that filled her eyes at the moment of release.

“Tell me.” I whispered, close to losing it. “Tell me what you want.”

“Don’t make me say it…” she cried. I stopped stroking for a moment. “No, don’t stop!”

“Then tell me.” I demanded. She gave in quickly.

“I want to feel your big cock buried inside of me!” she cried. “I want you to hold me down and fill me with your cum!” I thrust deep into her pussy.

“Hmm yess…” I grunted and came. She was right behind me. We shivered and shook through our mutual orgasm for quite some time.

“Thanks,” she said with a sigh afterward. “I needed that.”

“Minjeong thought you would,” I grinned, rolling off of her.

“Smart girl,” she smiled. And add, “But what we’re doing is almost over.”

“Over?” I asked in surprised concern.

“You said until the mark you gave me disappeared… It’s almost gone.” She lifted her hair to show me her neck. The hickey was still there, but it was fading. The sight of it stunned me. She walked into her bathroom before I could say anything.

I heard the water turn on as I lay there. I sat and thought for a few minutes.

-

“Minho?” mom groan as I walked in on her. “What are you doing in here?”

I didn’t bother responding. I simply walked into the shower, spun her around and pushed her against the wall. I pulled her hair into a ponytail and moved it out of the way.

“No!” she cried when she realized what I was doing, but by that time it was too late. My lips were latched onto the back of her neck. She fought, but I held her tight as I kissed and sucked on her neck until the hickey was bright once more. I let her go then and she turned to face me.

“I don’t want this to end,” I said. “Not yet.”

“But...”

“I won’t let it end!” I interjected more strongly. “You’re mine until my mark fades. That was the deal.”

“You cheated,” she said, shaking her head.

“So?” I shrugged, pulled her body against mine and kissing her hungrily.

“Minho!” Shhe moaned. “You shouldn’t have this kind of an effect on me!”

“You’re mine.” I said.

“For as long as the mark lasts,” she said between kisses. “That was the deal.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” I smiled.

“Get out,” she said as she shook her head and laughed. “I really do need to be going soon.”

“You’d leave me like this?” I asked, motioning toward my hardening cock. “Excited and alone? What kind of mom are you?”

“The worst kind,” she said, but then dropped to her knees and took my cock into her mouth.

“You mean the best?” I groaned, taking her head with both hands and stroking my cock between her lips.

She locked eyes with me as I fucked her mouth. She never once looked away. It didn’t take long for me to cum. The sight of her watching me and swallowing as I spurted rope after rope of cum down her throat only made my orgasm last longer.

“Can I return the favor?” I asked, leaning against the shower wall to hold myself up. She started to stand and I reached out one hand and helped.

“When I get back,” she smiled. “We really don’t have the time. If I don’t get going right now, I’ll miss my flight.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I promised.

“I know,” she said, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry,” I added with a grin.

“You my son, have a one-track mind,” mom sighed.

“I wonder where I get it from.” I joked.

“Not me.” she laugh. “I’m a good girl.”

“Sure you are,” I agreed easily, slapping her ass playfully and laughing as I left the shower.

“Hmm,” she sigh sternly. “You and I have to talk about the correct way to treat a lady.”

“I’m willing to listen,” I replied as I dried myself. “But I’m reasonably certain you’ll miss your plane if you try and explain it right now.” She shook her head.

“Another time,” she said, fighting off a smile.

“I can’t wait,” I grinned.

She made it out of the house in plenty of time. The car the company sent to take her to the airport was only waiting a few minutes before she was ready.

“Good luck,” I said as I put her bags in the trunk. “Not that you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” she said, getting into the car.

I waved and smiled as she drove away. I had just enough time to get a couple more hours of sleep before I had to get up and ready for class. I needed it. Mom had a way of completely exhausting me, and the thought of what might happen this weekend with Minjeong made me smile with anticipation.

[diaryofanormalkid]

Sooo glad I left that situation. We weren’t compatible, he was wasting my time, he couldn’t be honest with himself, he didn’t respect/like me as much as he thought he did.

It was one of those situations where he would’ve gained more value having someone like me on his arm, almost like a trophy wife because I’m so unique and a gem and beautiful etc.

But he wouldn’t have actually cared for, valued or appreciated me like everyone else would say he should do. He would’ve treated me ordinarily and taken me for granted.

Because it’s like he didn’t know he had a good girl until he lost me. He thought I was always going to be there. Or wait around for him to heal from his trauma.

He moved on real fast after we had our time though. So I doubt he ever actually had much healing to do. I just don’t believe him. And as much as he can say I hurt him, he hurt me.

For not being honest and clear about his intentions. And that’s all I ever wanted to express to him. But he took it as an attack on his character, which I never meant to do.

I apologized if I hurt him by saying what I said. But then I was dwelling on the fact that, if he was hurt, then that means he’s not happy with how he treated me after what I explained I was hurt by.

Because all I explained was when you do a), b) and c), I feel like ___________. He took it as me saying he’s a bad person. And I told him all the things he does well that I appreciate.

But because of these things that added up over time, I slowly felt like it would be a place of resentment had I not gotten that through to him. I don’t regret it one bit.

I wish I had listened to myself the first or second time I wanted to end things with him. My instincts told me from the jump that this wasn’t anything I should continue.

And each time, he talked me out of it. Or some outside force would talk me out of it. But I put up with the BS for everybody else. So how about myself? Don’t I get a say?

I’m going to be sooo true to myself next time and not include so many external factors next time when I’m focusing on my potential future husband. I think that’s so worth it.

I’ll know that my instincts and gut decision is actually very intuitive by strengthening and listening to it constantly.

[bunny-jpeg]

hi bunny, just got broken up with so anything to fix a broken heart would be amazing but highly need Lando Norris to be the situation.

Maybe best friends to lovers, kinky kinky good shit

heartbreak heaven

lando norris

tags: smut & fluff, friends-to-lovers, jealousy, sweet talk, break ups

a/n: i'm so sorry about that anon! break-ups are always the hardest, but i promise it does get a lot better! i hope you love this fic and maybe it soothes some of the ache from the heartbreak! i gave it a mix of romantic, fluffy, smutty goodness! - word of advice: chocolate is a great medicine for a heartbreak!

"that's crazy! i can't believe he did that." lando said as he leaned over and grabbed another tissue from the box on the coffee table, "we should kill him."

you looked at him, unamused as you took the tissue from him, "not funny, lando." you remarked as you wiped your eyes, "i can't believe he did that. he just up and left, he said that he could do it anymore. do what? am i that bad of a catch?" you huffed as you balled up the tissue, "stupid prick."

"ah well, his loss." he remarked. he was comfortable next to you on the couch with his arm draped over the back of it, "you'll get 'em next time, tiger."

you leaned up against him and exhaled deeply, "thanks, lando. nice to have a friend like you." then let out a small chuckle.

lando let you lay up against him and threw an arm around you. he sighed, "yeah... friend."

you had known lando for a while, since the karting days. your older brother was a racer, and while he didn't make it pro, you still remained closed to lando. you two were the same age and it was a a simple friendship. except lando didn't see it that way, when he was younger he never thought about happily ever afters and marriage. but, when you were around, even when you cheered on your brother, lando thought about you being mrs. norris. but time wasn't kind to him and after what felt like a dozen boyfriends, you were once again in lando's arms with tears in your eyes.

"you can do better." he said lowly, "so much better, you have no idea." he leaned in a little closer, his arm snaked around you, "how about someone who knows what the hell they're doing. to make you feel special, to please you."

"like oscar?" you asked a little oblivious.

lando sighed before he looked you in the eyes, "no... like me." before he captured your lips in his and wrapped both arms around you shoulders.

when he pulled away, he looked at you once more. and you stared back at him with shocker, "what!?" you asked and he felt heat in his cheeks.

"i can explain-"

you pulled him in for a tight kiss once more before you held onto his shoulders tightly. you felt the excitement through both of your bodies, he pressed his forehead up against yours with his eyes closed before he asked, "bedroom?"

lando know the layout of your flat like the back of his hand. he took you by the hand and led you towards your bedroom. he flicked on the lights and you led him further into your domain. the white rug, the string lights, the soft bed with the stuffed animals on it, which included a stuffed dog that he picked up for you while overseas.

"you look good you know, even with all your runny make up." he joked, "in order to really love a girl you gotta see her in her most comfortable." it didn't help that you were in sleeping shorts and a mclaren t-shirt (another gift from lando). and then started to get his t-shirt off. you did the same to your own shirt, lando eyed the shape of your body under the t-shirt.

you looked away for a moment and asked, "does it look bad?"

lando shook his head, "oh, no way. you look.... beautiful. what the fuck were these guys thinking? obviously a waste of a beautiful woman." his hands went to the belt on his black jeans, "i have a theory, that when a guy sees a woman as beautiful as you. they get intimidated. scared little boys." he chuckled.

"because you were always scared to ask me out?"

lando nodded, "yeah, but... i can't help myself anymore. if i see you with one more guy, i'm going to crash my car into them... i want you." he practically fell to his knees in front of you while you sat on the bed. he placed a large hand on your thigh, "i can't take it anymore, i want you. i need you. i want to be with you."

you took him by the face and gazed into his beautiful eyes. you ran your thumb across his bottom lip and nodded, "then after this.. you show me all the other ways a proper man should treat a woman."

lando took you by the hand and pushed your wrist up against his face, he exhaled deeply and said, "of course... every way i can."

you both were soon up by the pillows, lando's large hands on you as he held onto your shoulders to kiss you. the kiss was heavy, near bruising on your lips. the bed shifted under the both of you as you stripped of your clothes. you were left bare for lando as he felt up your skin.

he took in the sight of you, enough distance to admire your face and body, you looked heavenly, like a divine being. laid out on the soft covers of your bed. the male species must be a bunch of goddamn idiots. he laid you out on the bed, he admired your beauty as he felt you up. he swallowed and said, "beautiful, you know that right? beauty beyond words." then laughed a little as he captured your lips with his once more.

"please, lando." you reached over into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom, "no ifs, ands, or buts." and lando took it happily. it was quite erotic seeing lando put on a condom. it arose something in you, you couldn't quite put into words. and then when he was back between your legs once more. you smiled up at him and said, "you look good with one on."

"better safe than sorry." he remarked, "now, relax... i've been waiting for this for a long, long time." his childhood friend, his first crush, was now under him on her bed all spread out and perfect for him. one hand on his cock and another on your hip, he slowly sank into you and felt a shudder through his body. it felt hot, very hot.

"how does it feel?" you asked, for a moment you were self conscious. you knew that lando could have any woman he wanted, there were tons of grid bunnies, models and beyond who would die for a piece of lando. it made you feel a little self conscious in yourself.

"how does it feel? it feels amazing, fuck. you feel as good as you look. holy shit." he chuckled softly, "you have no idea what you do to me. all the times i thought about you. yearned for you. the longest crush i've ever had." he said as he held your hips and continued to move against you.

"no need to flatter me, lando. you already have me." then yelped when lando hiked your hips up a little bit.

lando chuckled as he moved against you faster, "i love when you say that, how that sounds on your tongue. your sweet voice telling me that i have you. but call me greedy, beautiful, because i want all of you." his pace quickened and he leaned in further towards you.

"fuck, lando." you groaned. you wondered where he learned those words. you felt the shudder through you as the pleasure continued to course through you, the patter of your heart grew as he continued to love you.

"that's it, angel. that's it." he groaned as he rutted against you, "jesus christ, you're beautiful. you have no idea what you do to me. fuck, i could name all the times i saw you and my jaw dropped."

"flirt." you moaned.

"only for you, angel." he said as he continued to move, his pace was rather feverish the more he needed you. you held onto his shoulders and he loved the feeling of your nails in his tanned shoulders. it only made him yearn for you more as he rutted against you. he could feel the heat in his cheeks and the pleasure cloud his thoughts.

it was hard to think of much else when he was buried in his sweet cunt. your cunt made him wild as he moved. he wanted more, no, he needed more. more of you, more of his first and only crush. no matter how many trophies he won, to have you in his arms was worth more than that.

he kissed you once more, and you held his face. you tried to meet his pace as his cock worked inside of you. it was hot between you two, you could feel the heat at your temples as you kept your legs up to keep him fucking you.

you tensed up at the feeling, at his words. when he pulled away from the kiss, you two gazed at one another. you didn't think that you'd ever be with lando, but there he was. he gazed at you with a heated want as the two of you continued to move against one another. it felt electric, hot in a way that made your core swirl.

he was erotic, painfully hot. you felt the pleasure grow in your body. it was something else, a totally different feeling. you groaned, "fucking hell, lando."

lando beamed down at you and continued to fuck you. the kisses continued soon after and he felt the fire in his gut from the want from you. you were beyond perfect, he knew that. the way your pussy took him left him hungry for more.

"you're amazing." he said lowly, "so perfect."

"not as perfect as you." you said as you kissed him on the cheek, your hands in his hair as the two of you fucked against one another with a heated passion. the fire between the both of you as you two rutted against one another.

the pleasure only bloomed in your gut as he moved against you and you moved against him. you moved together in a sort of harmony. a perfect pace of one another as the pleasure moved through both of you. it felt like heaven and it made your toes curl at the feeling.

it didn't take much longer before you held onto him and came around his cock. your cutn clenched around his cock and he rutted against you further. the two of you moved against one another heavily. the pleasure only crashed over you, and then soon after it crashed over him and he came inside of the condom. he groaned into your shoulder as he finished. you held onto him closely and the two of you continued to move against one another.

he groaned against your skin and felt the fire in his soul. it felt amazing, and as he slowed to a stop. he admired you. he saw the expression on your face and your features, the same features he loved growing up. the two of you kissed one another before lando laid in bed beside of you. he held your face when he kissed you again.

you giggled against him then pulled away. you two looked at one another and you wrapped an arm around him. you asked, "how was that?"

"oh perfect." he chuckled as he held your face, "beyond perfect." he looked at you closely and felt a sense of relief in his body. he kissed you once more then said, "i want you for the rest of my life."

and who were you say no? <3

[g-k444]

inspired by smth someone messaged me recently...

I don't sleep wearing many clothes. I like to feel sexy in what i wear to sleep though - which is why i have a range of silken little nighties that i alternate between. Each a different colour, but all the same components: two almost testingly thin straps, lace panel that fits snugly around my chest and holds my tits whilst the lower portion of my nightie is silk and flowy, ending just below my ass

the nightie sways and rides up my thighs as i waltz around my house in the little item of clothing, switching off lights and doing my last minute errands with such vigor that the silk jumps up and flashes the equally as revealing pair of panties i wear beneath the silk

and of course - when i sleep the nightie rides up and doesn't really cover anything... but that's fine... because who would be able to see it anyways?

Well, turns out the neighbour.

a middle age man, living alone who had a keen eye. who noticed every night how his young, slutty neighbour would step out of the shower and open her window with her towel wrapped around her middle - brushing her hair and then moving into her bedroom and hiding behind the curtain before reappearing downstairs - in the living room - wearing a tiny little nightie as she scampered from locking the front door to boiling her water for a hot water bottle, to closing her windows and turning her lights off...

he looked out for her every night, watching her do the very same bedtime ritual with his cock in his hand, honing in on how she would flash her panties when she turned quickly and the flowy material rose up - and the way the pep in her step had her tits bouncing beneath the lace hem of the nightie

one night i only realise once im tucked in bed that i forgot to lock my front door.

but the warmth of the bed and heaviness of my eyes had me able to convince myself: it's a safe neighbourhood... and ive never had any problems before... what are the chances someone would try break in just this once...? it's not that big a deal - i dont need to go down n lock it, i can just go to sleep and deal with it tomorrow morning...

though someone had in fact noticed that i'd left my door unlocked.

the neighbour was surprised to see that i'd forgotten a part of my nighttime ritual. locking the door. and i'd ascended up the stairs earlier than anticipated, leaving his hand holding his throbbing cock - unsatisfied - balls still full of cum and needing to find his release, still.

it was optimal, really

he could just wait for it to get a bit darker...

then open my front door - push the handle down quietly and shut it behind him, listening to hear if there was any noise within the house...

but everything within is dormant.

then walk up the stairs, down the corridor and to the right - to the room which he knew i slept in every night, wearing a nightie that didn't properly cover me.

he pushed the door open and felt heartrate shoot up as the door emit a squeak.

but no noise or sound of agitation followed from inside the room.

stepping around the door - he saw her body.

sprawled across the bed, nightie riding high on her thighs, lying on her side with her tits spilling from the hem of edge of her nightie -

there i lay.

my neighbour advanced the room, standing besides the sleeping girl. fingers tracing the bedside table, his hand knocked into a medication bottle - and picking it up to read, it read melatonin

what good news for him. he could do almost anything tonight and not wake her.

as if testing that hypothesis, the neighbour rolled her onto her back using her shoulder and watching as her breast bounced as her back hit the mattress, and she remained unconscious

she was so much more vulnerable and delicious when she was only a foot away from the neighbour.

now that he could see the bruise on her inner thigh and floral pattern across the lace chest part of the nightie - just sheer enough to allow him to see her dark nipples beneath the material

as if to really test whether she was asleep or not, the neighbour freed his cock and let it slap down onto her face - his balls sagging and sitting on her cheek whilst his cock lay against the other part of her face

it was so territorial. being able to put his cock on her face - mark her as his. his phone came out - taking a picture with flash of the sleeping girl with his cock against her face before proceeding to take a video - handling his cock from the base and rubbing it over her face, smushing her cheek with the stiff apendage and stroking his tip over her lips, letting the little bit of moisture from her parted lips wet the tip of his cock

he couldn't help his hands from ripping her lacey front down, exposing those pillowy tits and kneading them roughly with his palms - pinching them with his fingers and rolling those hard nipples between his thumb and index, feeling his cock twitch as she stirred slightly and let out a laboured breath

maybe she was having a wet dream.

the neighbour didnt know and didnt care.

he pulled her panties to the side and couldve moaned at how delicious she looked - her panties slick and a slimy tendril attaching her soaking pussy to the wet panties, her clit and hole gleaming in the barely lit room from her arousal

he couldn't stop himself.

his cock pressed against the slickness of her pussy, and he rubbed. he gyrated his cock back and forth against her folds, making lewd noises that made his balls twitch, cum fill his cock as he spat on her pussy and let his cock mix her slick with his fluids, the warmth of her pussy contrasting the unawakedness of the sleeping girl

he cant hold it much longer -

his balls tighten and he stuffs his head into my pussy, my unprotected, unsuspecting pussy as his cock splurges his seed into me and his heart pumps whilst he fills my pussy with his load and realises what he's done

my body stirs and he feels the need to leave.

just one picture - he lowers his camera to my pussy and the flash illuminates the cum that seeps from between my folds

and on the way out, he cant help but spot the keys hung besides the door. labelled house keys.

he cant stop himself from plucking them from where they rest, promising himself another experience like this one again as he shuts the door behind him, leaving me to turn over in my bed and wonder why my bedroom door has been left open before i doze off again

reminder to send rape threats and brutal messages of what you'd do to me in my inbox or messages <3

[plaidos]

I hate this narrative that trans girls shouldn't want to like. actually transition

I've been on hrt for 2 years and I feel genuinely hopeless and my dysohoria is taking a massive toll on my mental health because it's done next to nothing, and people keep feeling the need to tell me that it's okay to "not pass" because patriarchy bad or something. I never said anything about how I want society to perceive me, especially not men

I shave and epilate, I want to learn makeup, I want all these gender affirming surgeries, I want to voice train, because I want to like my body for my own sake

but people keep telling me that's somehow transphobic or sexist of me

I hate my body so much it makes me want to kill myself but people keep telling me I need to actively try not to pass for the sake of making some progressive point

nobody has to do anything to be valid of course, but it feels like a lot of people are saying I have to not do anything

sorry I just needed to vent

you should kill them. also it’s not misogynistic for YOU to be held to misogynistic body standards that make you feel like you have to (or want to) perform femininity these ways like it is literally exactly the same as cis women who wear makeup and shave. so tell them that you don’t see them criticising cis women for the same thing, so it seems like they actually just have a problem with trans women having agency of their bodies 🤷‍♀️ KILLING THEM!!!

[growth-opportunities]

A girl becomes addicted to her breasts getting bigger, and her second puberty aides her in becoming ginormous (talking hyper-sized, if possible - as big as you desire)

I genuinely don't understand how every girl doesn't get addicted to the feeling of their breasts growing. I was pretty much hooked the morning I outgrew my first bra. There was something... empowering about it. I don't know if I can fully describe it. The actual bra was uncomfortable, sure, but knowing that I was too big for it, subtle bulges around the edges... god. It was the first time in my entire life that I felt sexy. I was literally too sexy for my clothes and, fuck, it felt amazing. That was when I first started fantasizing about being properly huge, waiting until my parents went to bed and awkwardly searching the internet for "what happens when bigger than Z cup". But, as much as I wanted it, genetics had other plans.

It should have been a little bit obvious, in hindsight, but greed had blinded my young eyes. As I learned while snooping through the laundry, my older sister stopped growing at a C. My mom wore D-cup bras, but I'm pretty sure that was mostly from having kids and, while I was willing to do a lot for bigger tits, that seemed a little extreme. I was never going to huge like I had imagined, like I had dreamed, like I had prayed. My growth pretty much petered out at a large B/small C depending on the brand. That was all that genetics had deigned to give me and I can't pretend that I wasn't disappointed. No matter how many of my friends reassured me that I was "the perfect size" and they "fit my frame", that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted big. I wanted huge. I wanted the kind of tits that would make even the most hardened of hentai-consuming perverts (a crowd that I quickly found myself part of) wonder if it wasn't a little much.

But I wasn't about to take it lying down.

I got a job at a cafe to "save money for college", but every last penny I had went to buying supplements online. The unruly guests, making my cheeks hurt with forced smiles, doing everything I could to maintain my customer service voice, all of it was worth it in pursuit of a singular goal. Creams and lotions, pills and supplements, anything that even remotely promised growth was hastily ordered in lust-fueled hazes late at night. Shady sites stole my credit card info, like, three times and I was almost positive most were sugar pills or snake oil, but the joke about a man actually inventing penis-enlarging pills and having no way to market it stuck in my brain. If there was one breast growth supplement out there that was 100% legit then by god I was going to find it.

And, despite the incredible odds, it did work! To an extent. I managed to push my tits to a very swollen DD. Constantly massaging my breasts, kneading various lotions into my skin made them incredibly sensitive. If I hadn't already been obsessed with my tits, that level of sensitivity would have made it so. I could feel them bouncing and sloshing in my bras constantly. As much as I hated them, bras were a must. I didn't care about the 'modesty' or whatever, but feeling my shirt casually rub against my nipples all fucking day drove me insane. There were days where I didn't leave me room, just played with my tits until I came over and over again. Eventually, I'd stagger out at some point in the evening to rehydrate before crawling back into my cave, teasing my nipples and fantasizing about being double, triple, orders of magnitude bigger. I tried my best to come to terms with the fact that this is probably as busty as I'd ever be. Until, one morning, it wasn't.

I can still remember waking up and feeling that weight on my chest. As many times as I had dreamed about it, I didn't know what it was like until I finally felt it, that kind of heft on my chest. My jaw dropped open when I pulled back the covers and saw what had become of my tits. They doubled in size. Overnight. They literally looked inflated, almost unnaturally round, my skin red and covered in a web of veins. The sensitivity was mind-blowing. I could feel the air moving over my skin and it was just... woof. Between the size and the sensitivity, I had to get myself off immediately. Twice. Usually post-nut clarity had never hit me too hard previously, mostly just disappointment at my impossible fantasies, but that day it hit me like a freight train. Something wasn't right.

A few doctor's visits and some blood work later and I had an answer. I never admitted to taking the supplements, though my doctor was skeptical; he had never seen anything like this in someone whose thyroid wasn't full of holes. It turns out that, while the pills didn't really do much, all of the hormones that were in them were just sort of sitting in my system. If I had only taken one or two, they would have been flushed out pretty easily. But I was taking more than a dozen different pills. I was unknowingly adding more and more kindling to the pyre, adding in the hormonal equivalent of gasoline and thermite, just waiting until it reached critical mass and self-ignited. It was enough to trigger what was essentially a second puberty, my body starting to flood with self-made hormones outside of the supplements, but thanks to the variety of topical creams and lotions, it would be contained almost entirely in my breasts.

I was fairly silent on the car ride home, though I did whimper a bit when we hit a pothole. I trudged up to my room, carefully disrobed myself. My eyes were glued to the mirror, unable to take my eyes off of myself. Titflesh overflowed my palms, bulged out between my fingers, there was just so much of it. I could barely come to terms with the fact that all that was me. That thought alone nearly made me cum. The rest of the day was a lust-fueled frenzy. My pussy was largely neglected, focused entirely on my tits to get myself off over and over and over again. It felt incredible. The reality would come later, but I was too busy cumming then.

Unlike my first go 'round, which was painfully slow, my second puberty wasted no time. I was putting on at least an inch of bust every day. Sometimes, if I sat very still and held my breath, I swear I could watch them swelling in front of my eyes. Within a week, they were big enough to reach my bellybutton and, a week after that, they were almost at my hips. I was eating like a glutton, but I had to; my growing udders were taking up every calorie I put into my body. At some point, I started staying in my room not just because I was spending every hour of the day masturbating but because I had outgrown not just all of my clothes, but even our beach towels weren't bit enough to cover my tits. I could feel, every day, as the weight pulled heavier on my shoulders, nearly dragging me off my feet as they slid off my lap. I could feel my mobility slipping away, which would have been more frightening if it wasn't so arousing.

So anyway, that about brings things to now! My breasts are still technically growing, though at this size, it's kind of hard to notice an extra inch or two. I haven't officially measured these things in ages, so I can only guess that I'd have gone around the alphabet a few dozen times by now. I'm big enough that each, individual tit is big enough for me to use as a bed with room left over. Reaching my nipples is a workout, having to gather up so much titflesh in my hands and arms to get to them, though I rarely make it all the way there. I tend to get a little 'distracted'. The irony is that, after all this time, finally experiencing what it's like to be big has actually cooled me a little bit on the enormous fantasies. I mean, I'm already living the dream! Outside of just "bigger", there wasn't much left to explore on that avenue.

I have been taking a recent interest in lactation, though...

[dtchloedecker]

Chloe nodded at his answer. She felt a slight twinge of jealousy, but it immediately faded away when she reminded herself that Lucifer was here in her bed and not with Eve now. But, then she saw the shame on his face. "Hey, no," she rested her hands on his shoulders. "None of that. There's at least a twelve hour distance between now and then, right? Because we didn't get to the crime scene until nine, so unless you went into the evidence closet or something during the day..." And then she realized how dumb that sounded because Lucifer pretty much chased Eve around the bullpen because she was touching almost everything and wound up having to set her up at an empty desk so she could draw to keep her occupied and that was most of the day with the exception of visiting Pony Boy and Tiernan.

Chloe sighed. "You're not going to like this, but I can't..." Why was she so nervous? Why was she always afraid he was going to leave her? "Whatever this-" She gestured between the two of them "-is....I want....I do want to see where this goes, but..." Why was this so hard? Oh, right because she was afraid he would walk away from her. "I need to take things slow. And it's not because of your answer. That was always going to be the plan because....every time we've gotten this close, something pulls us apart. The first time, you ran away to Vegas and came back married to a stripper. The second time, I went to Rome and came back with an evil priest and tried to send you back to Hell." She winced. Why did she have to say that? "And in between there was always someone else that you'd prefer to....spend time with. Yes, that's a euphemism. So...I just...I need to protect myself, you know?"

Chloe started twisting her fingers nervously. "Also, you JUST broke up with Eve," she continued. "Most of the day you two were pretty much into each other. Then, I blow up and suddenly, just like that, you realize that you're actually NOT happy with her and then you break up. Tomorrow, you could wake up and realize that you actually DO want to be with her and today was just a fluke."

Chloe was yammering at this point, but she still had more to say because there were things that she felt like he needed to consider. "Thing is, Lucifer, I'm not Eve," she said, not realizing how sad she sounded. "I'm not Candy. I'm not one of the Britneys. I'm not a party girl and I don't do orgies, and I don't share. I don't even like the thought of it. I’m a cop. I’m a single mom. I’m boring Chloe Decker who’s in bed by eleven and can’t hold her liquor, and that's never going to change. I'm not a top hat. I'm a shoe. I don't think you've thought about that. Also..." She swallowed. "After what I did, I don't...I don't see how you can trust me after what I did. I know you forgive me, but that doesn't mean you trust me and I know I have to earn it. So, I understand that you need to protect yourself, too. But, you shouldn't be jumping into anything. You really need to think about what you want."

She felt tired after all of that, but also felt a bit lighter. "That being said," she moved closer to him. "While I don't want to have sex tonight, I don't exactly want to stay where we are either." She cradled his face and kissed him again only this time instead of pulling away, she pressed closer, deepening the kiss, and stopped when she needed air and leaned her forehead against his, silently letting him know that she was letting him be the one to decide if they were going to stop or keep going.

@lucifermorningstxr

Lucifer understood good and well the hesitation Chloe was feeling about everything after all that they'd been through, and while he respected it and even largely shared the same sentiments, he was more confident in them than ever before. If they were meant to do their damnedest to make it work between them, somehow, some way, they wouldn't be here together now. Even so, such a privilege was not to be abused, so Lucifer was more conscious of Chloe's body language than he'd ever been of anyone else's ever. So even as bombastic as the kiss was, no matter how badly he wanted every inch of her inside and out, forever and always, when she pulled back, as natural as it was, so did he, ever so gently. Not so gentle was the question his human posed next. It wasn't a pleasant one to answer, but the Devil understood it was a necessary one, and he could only answer honestly. "This morning, Detective..." He was a bit embarrassed by his answer, ashamed even, as he knew damn well he was squashing any and all chances of them going anywhere tonight, and likely tainting the moment they'd just had, but his honesty was a constant, and he wasn't going to start lying now, especially with his human and how far the pair had come. His gaze maintained hers, and he awaited her reply with an honesty in his eyes matching the moment.

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. push the reset button we’re becoming something new.

10, CHAPTER TEN. THE RESET BUTTON.

ju speaks. it’s the end. i want to thank everyone so so so much for supporting this story and seeing through it lol. your comments, reblogs, everything you leave in my inbox… it all means so much to me despite half of you being upset most of the time (i get it, nai & paige are very insufferable lmao). NOWWW we can discuss bonus chaps! what do we wanna see? requests are also officially open until i start the next series so i’d totally appreciate some of those as well! pairing. paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. bittersweet ending?

present day, august 2025.

i leaned against a wall, arms crossed, trying to act like i wasn’t two seconds from pacing a hole into the floor. the gainbridge fieldhouse was sold out—players shouting, sneakers squeaking on the court, a crowd somewhere above us hyped up and ready for the all-star game.

i should’ve been hyped too. this was my moment. the paige bueckers all-star debut. rookie year, voted in, the whole thing. i’d made it, right?

except, instead of soaking it all in, i was standing in this stupid tunnel, staring at the floor like it had answers. the floor wasn’t talking back, obviously, but it was easier to look at than the people walking past.

“it’s p boogers!”

i looked up just in time to see kk bouncing down the tunnel like she owned the place, azzi trailing behind her with an amused look on her face. “bruh.” i groaned, dragging a hand down my face, but i couldn’t stop the grin creeping in. “we’re not doing that today.” kk was decked out in my all-star jersey, two sizes too big on purpose, and azzi had gone with the team-issued merch.

kk is definitely a good cheer-up method, and i know azzi brought her here on purpose. she knows me, that’s for sure.

“nah, we are,” kk shot back, spinning around to show off her jersey. my jersey. “see this? i’m your biggest fan. autographs are fifty bucks, by the way.”

“you mean my autograph?” i deadpanned, pushing off the wall to meet them halfway.

“nah, mine,” she said, smirking. “i make this look good.”

“yeah, right!” i scoffed with a laugh, pulling her into a quick hug before turning to azzi. “y’all are early.”

“yeah, cam said you’d be back here,” azzi replied, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets. her calmness somehow always made me feel like i needed to explain myself, even when i wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“so… you stalking me now?” i asked, raising an eyebrow. i knew where i was supposed to be. they knew where i was supposed to be. probably not by myself so close to tip-off, that’s for sure.

“not stalk,” kk corrected, already grinning. “just… strategically locate.”

“spell strategically.”

“girl—“

she lunges at me, and i flinch, stepping back with a wide grin. “next time, give me a heads-up so i can, like, actually hide!”

azzi rolled her eyes but smiled. “we just wanted to see you before the game started. make sure you’re not pulling a KD and going ghost or something.”

“why would i do that?” i gestured to myself with mock offense. “i’m the picture of composure right now.”

“right,” azzi dragged the word out, smirking like she didn’t buy it for a second. “feels like forever since we’ve watched you play.” and it hit me again—harder this time.

forever. yeah.

i rubbed the back of my neck, forcing another smile. “yeah, it’s been a minute.” she wasn’t asking to dig—she never did—but she was always good at reading between the lines. and in this case, the line was obvious. it hadn’t been that long.

only a minute since they’d seen me. a minute since i’d seen nai.

well, no. i’d seen her. we couldn’t exactly avoid each other. our jobs made sure of that, but i wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing. i mean, seeing her makes it easier, right? gets the pain of it all over with. except it didn’t. it didn’t fill the space that felt empty whenever we weren’t talking. seeing her, hearing her laugh, watching her avoid my eyes at all costs—it didn’t feel the same anymore. there was a wall now. a different circumstance.

we were strangers.

i mean, not really strangers. we could never be that. i still caught myself looking when she walked past. but it was like everything that once made sense between us, everything that came so naturally, had been boxed up and put in storage.

i hate how good i got at pretending it didn’t hurt.

kk didn’t notice, already turning to azzi to ask about grabbing food, but azzi caught the shift, her brows furrowing just enough to make me nervous.

“you good?” she asked, her voice softer now.

i nodded too quick, furrowing my eyebrows like she didn’t have to worry about me. “yeah. fine.”

azzi placed an assuring hand on my shoulder before they walked off, leaving me alone in the tunnel, and just like that, the weight i’d been holding at bay crashed right back down.

i rubbed my chin, huffing and staring down at my shoes. it was stupid to think about her now. stupid to wonder if she was watching or if she even cared.

she wasn’t here. she wasn’t watching.

and i didn’t blame her.

i’m watching the all-star game.

not voluntarily, of course. it happens to be on in yardhouse, and my stupid eyes keep drifting back to this stupid screen.

i pick at my food, dragging my fork around the plate without taking a bite. a couple of my girls from usc—bree, naia… they’re all pretending like they don’t notice, like they don’t hear the cheers or see paige for sure having one of her best games since being in the league right now. they’re avoiding it for my sake, which i appreciate—sort of. it’s just making the air feel heavier.

“hey,” bree tilts her head up in my direction. “you sure about going back to minnesota?”

i glance her, mumbling a, “what?” mid-bite, although i’d heard her perfectly clear.

“the lynx,” she says, gesturing vaguely with her hand. “you’re really gonna go? leave la? what am i supposed to do without my favorite person to drag to runyon canyon at 6am?”

i snort, rolling my eyes. “first of all, i’m not your favorite person. second, i never agreed to runyon canyon. you kidnapped me.”

“it was consensual kidnapping,” she shoots back with a smile, but there’s something softer beneath her all the playfulness, a quiet undertone of, don’t go.

“i’ll miss you guys, obviously,” i say, waving a fry in her direction like it’s a peace offering. “but i’m not doing anything drastic yet. it’s just… something i’m considering.”

naia folds her arms and tilts her head. “considering enough that you’ve already decided to stay with your dad?”

“your dad?” bree cuts in, raising an eyebrow. “you’ve barely mentioned him since college.”

“he’s mellowed out.” i shrug, more defensive than i mean to be. “and it’s temporary. it’s not like i’m moving in with him forever.”

bree pouts dramatically, pushing her glass of soda away as if she’s protesting. “this feels personal. like, what did i do to deserve this? you’re really gonna leave me here with her?” she jabs a thumb toward naia, who glares at her.

“her has a name,” she deadpans.

“and her is not the one moving to the frozen tundra!” bree quips, throwing her hands up. “do you even know how cold minnesota gets? you’re gonna end up as a nai-sicle, and i’m gonna have to fly out and save you.”

bree’s dramatics usually get a laugh out of me, and i lean back in my chair, my hand brushing along the rim of my glass, thinking about what she said—about the tundra, about me leaving.

i love la—God, do i love it. the sunshine, the beaches, the way life feels like it’s always in motion. but now, i’ve convinced myself it’s too loud, too fast. too…paige.

moving back to minnesota was a sudden decision. the kind you make when you’re desperate for air but can’t find any. it wasn’t even on my radar until that night in front of nika’s hotel, paige in the passenger seat, the look in her eyes when she realized she’d completely lost me. i could still feel the weight of her hands on my face. when i told paige she had to let me go, i realized i wasn’t just asking her to stop. i needed to stop too.

the moment she let go of my face and settled into my passenger seat, something shifted in me. it was like the final thread tying me to her snapped, and all i could feel was this overwhelming need to get out.

i told myself the move would give me space to breathe, to find myself again. but the truth is, i made the decision sitting in that car, staring at the road through the rain soaked windshield as the car fell completely silent. it wasn’t logic; it was survival.

i don’t regret ending it. i don’t regret choosing myself. but i hate not having her in my life.

and maybe that’s the real reason i’m thinking about minnesota. it’s not just about starting over—it’s about making sure i don’t get pulled back into something i can’t handle.

bree’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “are you seriously not gonna respond? i just said i’d fly to minnesota to save your life. i think i deserve some credit for that.”

i smirk, grabbing a fry from her plate. “you’re so selfless. really, a true hero.”

my eyes drift back to the tv. she’s there again, all 6’0 of her grinning like she doesn’t have a care in the world, like she isn’t the reason i’m about to pack up everything and move back across the country.

yeah. i have to go.

back in indianapolis, the game had wrapped up with team wnba taking the win in one of those ridiculous, down to the wire finishes that made everyone’s heart stop at least three times. it was the kind of game you dream about, the kind that made the crowd stay on their feet, and the rush of the moment admittedly did help me forget about the static in my head.

“man, y’all really got it all figured out, huh?” i said, leaning my head back against the seat of the bus and watching as natasha cloud scrolled through pictures on her phone. she was showing off shots of her and her fiancée from their last vacation, the kind of photos that looked too perfect to be real, the ones you double tapped without a second thought. beaches, sunsets, matching shades—it was all there.

“you’re telling me paige bueckers, the golden child of the league, doesn’t have somebody?” natasha asked, tilting her phone toward me with a smirk. “no way. i don’t believe that for a second.”

i try to play it off with a shrug of my shoulders. “nah, she’s totally lying,” caitlin clark cut in from across the aisle, balancing a bottle of gatorade on her knee. “she was all about this girl back when we were on team usa together in high school. what was her name? nai? nailea?”

the name hit like a quick jab. i kind of set myself up for that one. “i wasn’t all about her,” i said, dragging the words out, like maybe if i said them slow enough, they’d sound believable.

caitlin’s laugh came quick, along with a raise of her eyebrow. “you kinda were, though. you’d bring her up all the time, like, ‘oh, nai likes that’ or ‘nai said this.’ it was cute, in an annoyingly obvious way.”

i tried for a laugh, but landed somewhere closer to a cough. i scoffed as i crossed my arms. “first of all, no. second of all, you’re remembering wrong.”

“am i, though?” caitlin pressed, grinning as she leaned forward. “so, what happened then? you still talk to her?”

i hesitated, clasping my hands together in the large space between my knees. “nah,” i said finally, running a hand down the length of my ponytail. “we don’t really talk anymore.”

it wasn’t technically a lie. but it wasn’t the full truth either.

sparing the details felt like too much—like the quiet “let me go” she’d whispered that night had somehow traveled with me all the way here, stuck in the back of my mind. the words still clung to me, threading through the days i tried not to think about her and the nights when i couldn’t help it.

natasha frowned slightly. “that’s tough.”

i hated that the conversation had shifted here, hated caitlin even more for bringing it up. but i couldn’t blame her. nai was a huge part of my life then, and somehow, even when she’s not supposed to be, she still is.

“wait—so… what happened? did you mess up? or was it, like, one of those timing things?” caitlin asked. she was genuinely curious, i could tell, but the there was still that teasing tinge.

“clark, let it go,” i said, half-laughing, half-praying she’d drop it before i said something i didn’t want to unpack.

“what?” she replied, holding her hands up. “i’m just saying. it sounded serious back then. you don’t talk about someone like that unless they mean something.”

“it was a long time ago,” i muttered.

natasha glanced at me, her eyes narrowing. “so what’s stopping you now?”

“she doesn’t wanna be in my life,” i said with a huff, and it felt good to say it. admit it to myself. “and, uh. i’ont think i’m really her favorite person right now.” i pressed my lips together, staring at the floor like it might open up and swallow me whole. i’ve been doing a lot of that recently.

“so why not keep her around?” natasha said after a moment. “doesn’t have to be all or nothing, you know. sometimes it’s worth it to just… keep people in your life. even if it’s not the way you thought it’d be.”

“amen to that,” one of the vets added, and i chuckled as i thought about it.

friends. that’s what she was implying, and it felt foreign for us. keeping nai in my life, just not as… her. not as the girl i flew out to connecticut every other weekend to make up for my shenanigans, or the girl who sat on the bathroom counter watching me brush my teeth because “it’s boring out there without you.” not as the girl whose voice i memorized like it was a song stuck in my head, or the one whose stupidly perfect smile made me forget my own name sometimes.

nai had never been in my life as “just a friend,” and i didn’t know if i could put her in that box now. how the hell could i pretend like i could compartmentalize every look, every laugh, every piece of her that’s still stuck in my skin like a tattoo i can’t scrub off? it’d be like trying to stuff something infinite into a container that didn’t fit—like ignoring the fact that she’d always meant more to me than that.

i appreciated the advice, i really did. but now her name was in my head again, and i’d probably be thinking about this for the rest of the night.

and maybe they were right. maybe letting her go didn’t mean losing her completely. but the idea of reaching out—of risking another rejection—it was enough to make me freeze. because what if i tried, and it still wasn’t enough?

i was inside the café grabbing our food, trying to juggle everything—drinks, fries, and some half-assed attempt at balancing the trays without spilling everything—when i caught the tail end of their conversation. it didn’t take long to figure out they were talking about nai.

“yes.”

“no.”

“yes!”

“no!”

“God, cam, you’re so stubborn!” rickea’s voice carried through the door, and i could practically hear her throwing her hands up in mock frustration.

“what can i say?” cam’s voice floated as she added, “i’m right.”

“you’re not!” rickea argued, shaking her head. “minnesota’s not even close to having a shot. i’m telling you, they’re just not—“

“well, if nai wants to go back to minnesota,” cam said casually, sipping her drink, “then she’s got a chance. she said something about being closer to her dad, too.”

i froze for a second, my mind stuttering to catch up with her words. nai. minnesota. closer to her dad. it hit harder than i expected, like a brick to the chest. i tried to keep my cool, but everything about it felt wrong. i didn’t know if i was imagining it or if it was the way the air shifted, but something about her tone made it feel like everything had just paused.

“wait, what?” i forced out. i couldn’t have heard that right.

rae’s head snapped over, her eyes going wide. “bro,” she hissed, kicking cam under the table. “she told you not to say anything.” i dropped the tray, sliding in next to her.

cam’s face froze, her lips still wrapped around the straw. “oh, shit,” she mumbled, glancing at me like a deer caught in headlights. “i mean—”

“why’s she moving back?” it was a stupid question, really. i knew why. the timing of it all.

“i mean, it’s her home,” cam muttered, clearly regretting bringing it up. “and, you know, the lynx could be looking for someone with her skill set if she decides to leave la.”

“betraying us for the lynx,” rae added with a fake scowl, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “cold.”

i didn’t laugh. i didn’t even really hear the joke. this was it, wasn’t it? she was leaving. and this time, there wouldn’t be a next time. no more half-hearted calls or texts that went unanswered. no more moments where we found each other in the same room and pretended everything was fine.

i opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words got stuck. i fucked it up. that’s what i wanted to say. i fucked it up, and now it was too late.

“i mean, it’s her home,” cam muttered, clearly regretting bringing it up. “and, you know, the lynx could be looking for someone with her skill set if she decides to leave la.”

“you good?” cam’s voice was cautious, and her eyes darted between me and the others, like she wasn’t sure if she’d just kicked over a hornet’s nest.

“i don’t know,” i admitted, my voice barely audible. i leaned back in my chair, running a hand over my face, trying to get a grip. it felt like i was teetering on the edge of something i couldn’t name.

“you look like you’re thinking,” rae cut in.

“i am.”

“about what?”

“don’t know.”

rickea, sitting across from me, didn’t even try to sugarcoat it. “about what you’re gonna do?”

“what am i supposed to do?” i shot back. her eyebrows lifted, and i sighed, softening my tone. “she’s done with me. where we stand’s been pretty clear.”

rickea didn’t blink. “you sure about that?”

my stomach flipped. did she know something i didn’t? “what you saying?”

“i’m saying,” she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, “that maybe she was gonna talk to you before she made up her mind.”

my breath caught. “what do you mean by was?”

“look,” rickea said carefully, glancing at cam and rae like she was asking for backup. “i’m just saying, nai brought you up the other day. something about wanting to figure things out before… whatever happens next. she didn’t go into details, but it sounded like she wasn’t done with you.”

done with me. i didn’t even know what that meant anymore. but just the thought of it—of her even thinking about figuring things out—was enough for me. i’d take what i could get it.

“so talk to her,” rae urged, nudging my knee under the table like she was trying to get me to snap out of it. “you’re acting like this is already over, and you haven’t even tried.”

cam tilted her head. “and maybe… maybe it doesn’t have to be all or nothing, you know? you could start with just—”

“friends,” i finished bitterly, cutting her off.

she shrugged. “it’s better than nothing,” she tried to comfort. “and if she’s willing to have you in her life at all, then maybe that’s something worth trying for.”

friends. it echoed in my head again, this stupid idea that natasha had already planted. something about it felt so wrong, but at the same time, the thought of letting her go completely was unbearable.

“we’d help,” cam offered with a small smile, nudging rickea. “if you need backup or… whatever.”

“hell yeah,” rae agreed, furrowing her eyebrows like it was a given. “just say the word.”

i exhaled slowly, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. my mind was spinning, looping through all the ways i’d messed things up, all the things i could’ve said or done differently. but none of that mattered now. what mattered was what i did next.

“okay,” i said finally. “how?”

when rickea texted, i almost didn’t answer. the day had been long in that draggy, soul-sucking kind of way where everything felt like a chore. i’d spent most of it staring at my computer, half-heartedly working on a report while fighting the urge to crawl back into bed. by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, i was fully settled on the couch, one leg tucked under me, the other dangling off the edge, a bowl of cereal balanced precariously on my thigh. the idea of getting up, let alone leaving the house, felt like too much effort.

then the second text came in.

rickea: please nai 😫😬😅☹️😣😕😭 (don’t make me beg) 11:23pm

rickea had a way of making me laugh even when i didn’t want to. i stared at my phone for a full minute before sighing and putting the bowl down on the coffee table. cereal wasn’t worth the headache i’d get if i ignored her and she found out.

nai: what’d you forget this time?

her response came almost instantly.

rickea: left something on your desk earlier when i came by. i need it.

vague. no specifics, no explanation, just enough to be mildly suspicious. but i was too tired to argue, so i slipped into my slippers, still in my mismatched pajamas that consisted of a faded hoodie and some loose joggers, and grabbed my keys.

you’re too nice, i thought. the drive over was quiet, the streets still packed to the brim, because this city truly never slept. it was august, and even at night, the air was so suffocatingly thick with heat. my car’s ac sputtered in protest every few minutes, and the radio played low, some random playlist i’d thrown on earlier, the songs fading into the background as my mind wandered.

i didn’t know what i expected when i got to the office. maybe a forgotten laptop charger or a stack of papers rickea couldn’t live without. something small, simple, and annoying enough to make me question why i even bothered.

what i didn’t expect was the glow of my desk lamp spilling out into the otherwise dark room.

i froze in the doorway, my hand still on the knob, my pulse quickening just slightly. i hadn’t left it on earlier, i was sure of it. my first thought was that someone else had come in after me, maybe left it on by mistake. but as my eyes adjusted, i saw the flowers.

some were fresh—bright and colorful, but the others… the others were absolutely done for, their edges browned and curling, their stems drooping under the weight of time.

i knew those flowers. they were my flowers.

they were arranged into a single word, their stems carefully twisted and balanced: friends?

my heart jumped into my throat, and my hands moved over my mouth, my pulse roaring in my ears. i froze, torn between laughing at the absurdity of it and something i didn’t have a name for.

my breath hitched, and for a moment, all i could do was stare. i reached out, my fingers brushing one of the fresher blooms, and my mind raced. there was only one person who would—could—do something like this.

the flowers. the stupid lamp left on. the messy bouquet spelling out a word that felt like both an offering and a question. it was all so… her.

my fingers trembled as i traced the edge of one of the wilted flowers, the brittle petals flaking under my touch. these were the same ones she got me for my birthday, the ones i kept in a mason jar way longer than i should’ve, because throwing them out felt wrong. they looked ridiculous now alongside the fresh ones, but the longer i stared, the more it made sense.

it was us. chaotic, mismatched, and somehow still there. still standing.

“my bad for breaking in. kea helped.”

paige stepped out from a corner in the room, and the movement from my peripheral made me spin around.

“my bad for breaking in. kea helped,” she added, throwing it out there like it was no big deal.

“kea?” i repeated, and it suddenly all made sense in one click.

“yeah.”

“your idea?”

“‘course,” paige replied, shrugging her shoulders as she strolled closer. “couldn’t let you get away without letting you know sum’.”

she strolled forward, her hands stuffed into her hoodie pocket, her sneakers making soft thuds against the carpet. her eyes locked onto mine, unflinching, and even from across the room, i could that whatever she was about to say was worth hearing.

“i know i’m probably the last person you wanna hear from right now. and maybe i deserve that. but i’ve been thinkin’, like, this whole time. about you. about us. and maybe we didn’t always get it right, but i still don’t think we got it wrong.”

my stomach twisted, and i folded my arms across my chest, unsure whether to let her keep talking or shut her down. but she kept going anyway, her words spilling out in a rush, like she had to get them out before i could stop her.

she stopped just in front of me, close enough that i could smell the stupidly familiar cologne on her neck that’d probably been lingering for hours after her shower. her hand fell to her side, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie.

“i don’t wanna lose you,” she said, and i could hear her trying to hold it together. “not again. and i know—trust me, i know—i can’t undo all the shit i did. but if there’s even a chance, like, any chance, that i can be in your life again… i’m taking it. whatever it looks like. friends, coworkers, random people who wave awkwardly at each other in public—i’ont care. i just… i need you to let me show up. show you i’m capable.”

i chuckled, tearing my eyes away from her. her words held a heavier weight than any of the bullshit we’d tried to ignore before. i stared at her, taking in the way her shoulders slumped just a little, the rawness in her voice, and that damn hope in her eyes. it almost killed me. it did kill me. because, shit, i wanted to say it wasn’t enough. that it was too late. that the cracks were too deep and the damage irreversible.

but that wasn’t true. this was different. an entirely different status that didn’t require any promises or heartbreak.

i still cared. i think i always would. it was in the way i couldn’t throw away that stupid bouquet despite how angry i was that she’d walked out on me that day, the way i thought the only way i could forget about her was moving back to minnesota, which i think would no longer be in the question after this.

because if we did it right this time, there was still a shot.

still a shot.

i moved before i could stop myself, crossing the distance between us and wrapping my arms around her, pulling her into a hug that was too tight to be anything but real. “the reset button, yeah?”

she hesitated at first, but then she let out a breath and hugged me back, her arms feeling like a safe place i hadn’t realized i was missing. she rested her head on my shoulder, a lovable habit. “yeah. ‘s gotta be worth somethin’, right?”

it was worth more than she probably thought.

“who are you and what have you done with paige?” i muttered against her shoulder, a snarky grin tugging at my lips. it was easier to do than admit how much i’d missed this—missed her. wouldn’t be very friendly-like.

she pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.

“i’m whoever you want me to be.”

[soohiefan13]

MOMOKARUN - roomies

ੈ♡˳ a continuation of my "roomies head cannons" post (if u haven't read it yet, you should totally go read it either before or after you read this bc it's fire if i may say so myself.

notes: 2.8k words. warning(s):

ੈ♡˳

music was thumping in their ears. they weren't at a party or anything. they were just in momo's new bedroom. well, not new new. momo had lived there a good three months already. with her (low-key fine) roomie.

the roomie in question was in his bedroom. no music of his own. he was mostly just involuntarily listening the fast bass line of whatever the hell momo and her friends were listening to. honestly, ken was getting a little irritated. this was his one night out of the week that he had to study and relax. every other day, he was practicing with his club or going to work. he liked living with momo, but times like these made him wish he had taken advantage of the roommate matching resources. he just sighed and grabbed his noise cancelling ear buds. if he had to listen to something, it was gonna be something he wanted to listen to.

"I don't know, girl! he's hot stuff!" muko said loudly while looking in the mirror and pulling her hair into different hairstyles. "y'all haven't ever even flirted a little?"

momo threw a pillow at her girlfriend and rolled her eyes. "dude. if you haven't noticed, he's a total nerd."

muko and miko both deadpanned and turned to momo. "girl. if you haven't noticed, that's literally your type." muko stated. then miko piped up.

"also, I don't know who you think you are! did you just forget that you two freaks are studying the same nerdy occult stuff!"

"well, yea! but he's studying aliens and all that UFO bullshit! i'm studying genuine stuff: spirits and the supernatural!" momo said proudly.

her friends deadpanned again. "right... right..."

"whatever. you two are studying- what is it again? dress up games?" she insulted.

miko whipped around. "bitch! I don't wanna hear that noise whenever you step out wearing something made by us two. and you'll look totally hot in it, too."

momo chuckled, applying a big false eyelash to top off her gyaru makeup look. all three of the girls were practicing their skills. since they were finally allowed to wear makeup out and about everyday. muko wore it anyway, but boy, did she stay in detention.

"honestly, momo. you could use more practice." muko blurted out, a plan flowering into her mind.

"um, rude! you couldn't have said that a little nicer?" momo whined, staring at her makeup in a handheld mirror and working hard to decipher what exactly she was doing wrong.

"i'm just sayin', it might help to practice on a fresh face..." muko said, raising her eyebrows at miko. momo just cocked her head to the side, confused.

miko smiled mischievously. "yea... maybe that cute roomie of yours would be up to letting you practice on his mug."

momo rolled her eyes, touching up her eyeliner. "yea right. okarun would never agree to that. he's kinda uptight."

the girls dropped their jaws. "okarun?! what the shit kinda name is that?"

momo blushed. "well, that's not his real name. it's just a nickname I gave to him since I can't stand to hear to stupid name." the girls stared at her, urging her to continue. momo sighed big and loud. "ugh! his real name is... ken takakura."

they busted out laughing, jumping on to the bed next to her. they shook her around and hit each other, trying to recover from what momo just said.

"girl, are you serious! you're living with a ken takakura and you're not asking him out already?!" muko shouted. momo shoved her hands over her mouth, afraid ken okarun would hear. "give him a chance!" she said, muffled.

"seriously, momo. don't sell yourself short. you're a cute girl and ken seems like a sweetie. start off easy. ask to do his makeup tonight."

"tonight?! but I thought you two were sleeping over..." momo pouted.

the girls grabbed their overnight bags and bedazzled phones, which had cute little charms hanging off of them. "not anymore! you've got a mission to accomplish tonight. see ya!"

and with that, the two girls left. momo was sitting on her bed, wanting so badly to scream and chase them down. but she didn't want to disturb okarun. her phone rang, causing her to jump. it was miko.

"what?!" momo grumbled loudly into her phone.

"if you don't call us back tonight with an update on how everything went down, we're totally coming back tomorrow and talking to ken takakura ourselves."

momo groaned out, slamming her phone shut and then throwing it down on her bed. it couldn't hurt to ask. the worst that could happen was that okarun would say no, then momo could go to bed. but what if he said yes? she would have to sit super close to him and touch his face a ton and stare at his super cute face. ugh! she really didn't want to do this, but at the same time... sitting close to him and touching him and staring at his super cute face didn't sound horrible. who was she kidding? it sounded perfect. momo sighed. she slowly got up and trudged into her bathroom. she spent a good ten minutes removing her makeup, washing her face, and applying some skincare products. she spent the silent time thinking about how to go about this in the least awkward way. asking wasn't super awkward, but actually doing the makeup would be. she couldn't handle his big doe eyes staring at her the whole time.

that's it! she would ask to practice eye makeup on okarun! that way, his eyes would have to be shut the majority of the time.

"alright..." momo sighed, her makeup bag in tote. "let's get this over with."

she stepped quietly through their common area and tiptoed down his hallway. she kinda hoped he was sleeping.

softly, momo knocked a few times on his door. no answer. confused, she pressed her ear against his door, and knocked again. still no answer. his lights were on so he couldn't be sleeping. was he just ignoring her on purpose? without thinking, she just pushed his bedroom door open.

there he was. laying on his bed. shirtless. of course he was shirtless. stupid muko. stupid miko. momo stared at him. he had his arm covering his eyes, a hand resting on his toned abdomen. he also had... ear buds in. seriously? momo groaned and shuffled toward him. she smacked him on the arm.

okarun jumped up. he pulled his ear bud out and sat up straight. putting his glasses back on, he looked up at momo. "hey miss ayase. did you need my help with something?"

she stood in front of him, head turned to the side and refusing to look at him. "um, no. well, yes, actually. would you be willing to let me practice some eye makeup on you? I know it's not super manly or whatever, but miko says i'll get better at it if I practice on a fresh face. it's stupid but you're the only person I could ask. those two bitches conveniently left right after making the suggesting it."

okarun took out the second ear bud and stood up, standing a little close to momo. she stiffened. "yea, sure. if it's important to you, i'd be happy to help."

"cool." momo mumbled. they stood their for a second in awkward silence. "um, could you put a shirt on real quick. i'll be waiting on the couch..."

okarun blushed and chuckled nervously. "yea... uh, sorry. i'll be a out in a jiffy."

miss ayase spun around on her heels after ken shut the door. once he was alone, he pinched the bridge of his nose, embarrassed. jiffy. what does that even mean? and why would he stand so close to this girl shirtless? he could've made her uncomfortable. that was the last thing ken wanted. they got along really well, other than the occasional argument over running shoes or stolen food. they spent a lot of time together, studying or sharing meals. sometimes it felt like the two of them were already couple in ken's mind. they did just about everything couples did, safe for the romantic stuff. of course, ken thought about the romantic stuff, more often than he'd admit. she was pretty and, despite being the most stubborn person on the planet, she was a good person to be around. she was extremely supportive and always made sure ken was taking care of himself. she would make him hearty dinners the day before he had a track meet and would stay up extra late to study with him if he was feeling academically insecure about a certain subject. and she was pretty. ken didn't realize it, but his gaze on her lingered. he adored her messy hair, the way it flicked up and the way her bangs shaped her face when she pulled her hair up. he also liked the way she dressed. very comfy and casual, but she just made it look good. she had a nice body, too. a little curvy, with long legs and a little more muscle than you'd expect. ken felt like she would fit in his hands just right-

god, ken! don't be a pervert!

he shook his head, as if he could fling the flush of pink off his cheeks. ken isn't sure if he can handle sitting so close to miss ayase. he was already getting worked up just thinking about her-

"okarun?" momo called, a little worried he fell asleep.

ken slapped himself on the face and sighed. be normal.

"sorry, I just needed to rinse my face off." he lied.

okarun plopped down next to momo. he turned the TV on and flicked through the channels until he got to their most watched channel- sci-fi. an alien invasion movie played quietly as okarun sat and waited for momo to get her makeup sorted. he watched her hands intently as she thumbed through different eye liners and brushes.

he wanted them to hold his face already.

"you ready?" momo asked.

"yes." okarun answered. he was a little quick with his response.

"alright." momo uncapped a black felt-tip eyeliner pen, giving it a small shake. her eyes flickered up to his, a small feeling of nervousness bubbling up inside of her. "try not to move too much. this would totally suck to get in your eyes."

finally, her non dominant hand cupped okarun's cheek, holding him still and positioning his head properly. she began applying it underneath his eyes. they were quiet as she mapped out a shape. then, she applied a thick line to his upper lash line. she took a moment to regain her composure since his eyes were finally closed for this part. his face was totally soft in her hands and the pout she was squeezing onto his lips was absolutely adorable. momo zoned out, staring at his cute features for about ten seconds. okarun, curious, opened his doe eyes, causing momo to snap out of it.

she snatched her hand away from his face, digging through her makeup bag to avoid eye contact.

"I didn't know you were so into makeup..." okarun said, trying to ease the awkwardness.

"uh... yea. I wanted to wear it throughout highschool, but I didn't want to go through all of the hassle of getting in trouble every other day. that was more muko's speed..." momo said, pulling out a white concealer. "look up for me."

okarun did as told as she applied the white concealer right under his eye. she fanned it with her hands so it would dry faster. he grabbed a mirror, curious to see what she was doing to him.

"this looks cool!" he encouraged. "is working on a 'fresh face' helping you?"

momo smiled at him. "yea... you're a good canvas."

they stared at each other for a moment before momo broke eye contact to grab some eye shadow. "wanna pick out your color?"

"sure. uh... how about blue?"

momo dipped into a pan of pastel blue eye shadow. he closed his eyes, and she dragged the pigment across his lids until she was satisfied. then she added some fake lashes to his top and bottom lashes and topped everything off with a little glitter. she popped the cap back on the glitter eye shadow and plopped a hand held mirror into okarun soft hands.

"what do you think?"

he looked at his reflection. "as far as I know, this looks pretty good. I don't know much about makeup but it looks nice to me. all though, when you replicate this on yourself, you should do pink instead." he paused, contemplating on whether not he should keep talking. "the pink would look good on you... just about anything looks good on you."

momo's eye widened, the eye shadow falling out of her hand and hitting the ground. okarun quickly picked it up for her.

"are you okay?"

"you think i look good?" momo asked.

okarun scratched the back of his neck, his face turning pink. "yea... i've always thought you were pretty, miss ayase."

her heart skipped a beat.

"thanks." she mumbled nervously, trying to think of something to say. "you're pretty, too."

okarun's eye widened this time, then he couldn't help but let out a laugh. momo shoved her face in her hands.

"no! I didn't mean pretty. I just meant, like-"

"any good looks of mine are thanks to you. you did me up nice." okarun smiled at her. momo blushed.

"not all of them." she admitted. "you have cute hair."

she brought her slender hand up to his head and let one of his curls wrap around her finger. okarun leaned into her touch unconsciously. she ran her fingers through his messy hair until she got to the undercut at the nape of his neck.

"i especially like this, here." her nails grazed the short hair, causing okarun to screw his eyes shut and shutter. he could sit and let her play with his hair all night. he kept his eyes closed and leaned more into her touch, his lips falling against her wrist. unconsciously, he wrapped his fingers around her arm, pulling her palm to his lips and planting a soft kiss there.

the two nerds froze. momo snatched her arm away and okarun scooted away from her entirely.

"i'm so sorry, miss ayase! I don't know why I did that." he shoved his face into his palms, muffling his speech. "I'm an awkward guy-"

"that's okay!" momo said a little louder than intended, trying to cut him off before she lost her mind. "here! there are some makeup removing wipes. i'm gonna head to bed. I'll see you in the morning. oh, um. don't forget to rinse after using these. ok. goodnight."

and with that, momo snatched up her makeup bag and scrambled into her bedroom. she tossed her bag to the side and plopped facedown onto her bed. after a moment, she dialed tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. she couldn't have those too screwing up this awkward situation any worse.

meanwhile, ken stood in his bathroom, scrubbing his eyes of the makeup. why did he do that? what was he thinking? momo could've slapped him across the face, or worse; laughed in his face! he probably made her so uncomfortable. why did he have to screw up their perfectly normal living situation.

he made sure to rinse his face off, then crept into bed. he laid on his back, staring at the ceiling as if momo's reciprocated feelings lie hidden in it. okarun liked momo. he wanted to be with her- more than roommates. he wanted them to kiss, and cuddle, and go on dates. he wanted to pay for her meals and surprise her with cool hidden talents. he wanted to see her dressed up, her hair in that ponytail he liked so much. he wanted to sleep next to her; to hold her close to him, easing her restlessness and soaking in her warmth. he wanted to wake up next to her, plant a kiss on her warm cheek and then head into the kitchen and put on her morning coffee.

but did she want any of that with him?

momo tossed her phone to the floor, still processing the events. she stared at her palm, burning a hold into the spot where okarun's lips were only a little while ago. it tingled. she wanted more. momo wanted more of okarun. she wished he would've kissed her on the lips and that they spent the night on the couch together, a stupid sci-fi movie quietly in the background. she wanted play with his hair and see the way he melted into her touch again. she wanted to go on adventures with him, make memories and share experiences with just them. she wanted to make him meals everyday and attend his track meets, so she could be the loudest one in the audience, cheering him on.

but did he want any of that with her?

duh! these two morons. as book smart as they are, you would think they'd be decent at catching a damn clue. maybe they'd figure it out in the morning.

ੈ♡˳

[watarfallar]

They're gay your honour...

Grian: I feel like the world would be better if I'd never been born. Scar: Aw… that's not true. Scar: It'd be exactly the same. Scar: You're not important.

Scar: I couldn't do this without you, Grian. Grian: Sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course.

Grian to Scar: Turn that frown upside-down! a little while later Grian: What are you doing? Scar, trying to do a handstand: You told me to “turn that frown upside-down” but it’s not working .

Grian: Hey Scar, can I get some icecream? Scar: Only a spoonful! Grian: Proceeds to pull out a comically large spoon.

Scar: Why are you looking at me through a fork? Grian: I'm pretending you're in jail. Scar: Why? Grian: It's spiritually healing.

Scar: Grian, I need some advice. Grian: You need advice from ME? Scar: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

Grian: Do you care if I take the skin off this Furby? Grian: I want to make him a god. Once he is free of his sinful flesh, he can begin a path towards enlightenment. He will take care of us. Grian: I also want to softhack his circuits. Scar: I literally could not care less but never say anything as frightening as that ever again.

Grian: makes Scar a cup of tea but puts salt in it Scar: sips tea Grian: Scar: finishes tea Grian: Didn't it taste bad? Scar: Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I drank it all. Grian, tearing up: Oh, okay.

Grian: I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are. Scar: Okay? Grian: … Grian: … Grian: Actually it’s gonna bug me if I don’t, so—

Scar: Happy Throwback Thursday! Here’s a throwback to when Grian ate an entire tube of lipstick. Grian, whining: But why would it be cherry-flavored if you can’t eat it?!

Grian: Scar, is that my mug you’re drinking out of? Scar: No, it’s mine. Grian: It… looks just like the one I have… Scar: You don’t have one like this anymore.

Scar: How does that even work? Grian, mocking them: hOw dO yOu UsE a cOmPUteR aNd KnOw wHaTS GoiNg oN iT DoEsNt mAke SeNSe?! Scar: Your face doesnt make sense.

Kidnapper: I have your partner. Grian: What? I don't have a partner… Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face? Grian: Oh my god, you have Scar.

Scar: Wait you like me? For my personality? Grian: I know, I was surprised too.

Grian: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED! Grian: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY! Scar: Grian just threw a tantrum about a chair. Scar: I just won Grian Tantrum Bingo.

Scar: Grian, what if there are monsters? Grian: Don’t worry, we’re top of the food chain. Much later… Scar, lying awake at night: I am the monster.

Grian: "Go hang a salami" backwards is "I'm a lasagna hog". Scar: How did either of those sentences occur naturally for you to discover this?

Scar: I thought I told you to stop reading my emails. Grian: Well, I thought I told you to stop keeping secrets!

Grian: Tommorrow's garbage day. Scar: I can't believe they made a whole day dedicated to you.

Grian: on the phone with Scar I can’t talk right now, I’m doing hot girl shit. Scar: You’re pulling Oreos apart and saving off the frosting to make a mega Oreo, aren’t you. Grian: Maybe.

Grian: You’re so funny! Scar: Thanks; I’m desperate for people to like me.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

So, I was waiting until I had some time to really focus on this, because I didn’t want for that to get poor attention and my distracted or hasty reading.

Anyway, at least I got to the end of the first part so here we gooooo.

I really like this little world you've created, I can smell it, taste it, hear it, and I can almost feel the dust clouding my eyes.

The tension between them is so damn intense, oh my God 🥵 And she's like me in many ways I have to say, more than I'd like to admit LOL she's proud, fierce, she never wants to ask anyone for help and may God strike her down if she makes the first move AHAHAHAHAH fuck that, grumble to herself endlessly is so much better, of course, it makes perfect sense 😂😂😂 and I hate, I hate being belittled and treated like I'm stupid that doesn’t notice things as much as she does. She's me, that's it. we’re such dickheads lol reader, I love you and I feel you babe 🫂

Joel is no exception, however, we are all in bad shape when it comes to communication skills 🥲

I loved how she hates it when he treats her like a little girl, the constant teasing, him pretending not to be jealous when in fact he wants nothing more than to possess her.

It’s so good 🥵

I love the way you drew Joel, he's so sexy I could explode and even though the world of cowboys is so far away from me and I don't understand anything about it (a damn thing, really) I found myself immersed in this story and oh my God, the angry way they do it 🥵🥵🥵

I was biting my lip so hard haaaaaa oh god please I need this big sweaty man to fuck me until I feel like putting my pride away Jesus if there's one thing I'm a world champion at it's ignoring people who ignore me for the rest of my life and beyond lol

I also love her father (in my opinion he is more aware than he seems, this man is not telling me the truth heheheheh) and Tommy so boastful and seducer, he’s so damn irresistible🤭

Can’t wait to read the second part, sorry if it takes me longer than expected but it's the holidays and I'm Italian and my relatives are always in the middle 🙄

Until then: you 👏🏻 did 👏🏻 so 👏🏻 fucking 👏🏻 great 👏🏻 my 👏🏻 dear 👏🏻

I’m in awe, really and I love that ♥️

right kind of dream (joel miller x f!reader) part one

wc: 12.5k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART TWO HERE

summary: rebuilding your life, chasing cans, and hitchin’ a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

to my pedrostories secret santa recipient @katiexpunk: this was a challenge for ya gurl to be srs (and it’s not a tentacle gangbang, i lied in ur asks babe i’m srry) i hope i hit the mark on a handful of the prompts though, i had high hopes that i could really challenge myself and deliver some breeding kink cowboy but i fear it’s more of a creampie kink—i hope that still hits, i have horse knowledge, but only rodeo adjacent experience so if any rodeo queens find glaring mistakes pls forgive me — but happy holidays bb, i really hope you enjoy-- EDIT: I MADE IT TOO GIRTHY (or something?? sorry!!) and had to split it into two parts, the second part will be up and linked as asap as possible, and i'll add the full text to ao3 so it'll be in one spot

tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, guilty yearnful joel, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin’ that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta–mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am 

thanks: to @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, ideas, etc.

The sun beats down on the gravel driveway as you pull your truck toward the old house. It looks almost the same as it did the summers you spent here as a kid when it was your grandparents–the peeling white paint on the porch railing, and the barn standing sturdy, but weathered further down the driveway. The fields stretched on as you rolled down the driveway, dotted with occasional wildflowers and critters dashing into the denser brush. 

The air blows warm through the window, same as you remember, but the weight of the memories feels different now. The summers used to feel endless here, the fields seemed endless, as did the sky. It all used to feel so liberating. It’s not an endless summer now. Everything looks smaller and more weathered. 

Except for the shiny white PVC fences on the other side of the driveway and the modern-looking house and barn built on the same soil you used to spend hours patrolling with your pony, Clover. She’d search for the best bits of grass as you laid across her back coming up with stories—some days you were an old-timey cowgirl traveling west or Clover was a wild horse you were training or you were on a quest to a magical kingdom together. 

But now it’s a new home for whoever bought up the parceled land your dad sold to cover the updates on the house when he inherited it. Someone with enough money for a fancy barn and shiny truck. You pull to a stop and hop out of the cab, still scanning the neighbor's property, making your first impression. 

Your dad emerges from the barn, wiping his hands on a faded rag. He gives you a smile and a nod. “About time you showed up,” he calls, his voice warm and teasing. “Thought maybe you had changed your mind.” 

You shake your head softly, rolling your eyes. “Nope. Nothing worth staying in that city for.” 

The gravel crunches under your boots as you round the bed to grab one of your boxes. All your belongings fit into a few boxes. At least, everything that mattered to you, everything that was still you. “Where do you want this?” You wonder how you’re going to manage living in the same house with your dad now that you’re an adult. 

“Just set it inside,” he said, gesturing to the house. “We’ll get you sorted after we have something to eat.” 

As you followed him toward the house, the outline of the neighbor's property loomed large. The barn caught your eye. It was close. A pair of horses stood in the near pasture, swishing their tails in the afternoon heat. The contrast was stark. Where your dad’s place still carried the scrapes and scuffs of decades–theirs looked new and polished. Smug even. Can a house be smug? 

“The neighbors are closer than I thought.” You cross the porch, the nostalgic screen door squeaking as your dad ushers you inside. 

“Don’t mind it. We look out for each other.” He points to the room you stayed in as a kid. “He damn near built the place by himself, and helped me with the new roof on this place.” 

You shoot him a sharp look. “You said you were gonna hire roofers instead of climbing around up there at your age.” He shrugs you off. Always stubborn. Convinced he can do it better and cheaper. Despite the toll on his body. 

“Paid him to help,” he argues, “wasn’t up there by myself. You don’t gotta worry about me like that.” 

You set your box down at the end of the twin-size bed, the room falling quiet for a moment. Your dad stays planted in the doorway, but his brows pinch and lips purse briefly before he lets out a breath. You scan the room, gaze landing on the floorboards, waiting. 

Instead of addressing the elephant in the room, he says, “You hungry?” 

You grin at that, letting out a shaky breath. Your father’s daughter, neither of you likes to dig into your feelings. He taught you to show love through actions, like keeping you fed, taking on hard labor jobs without a complaint, or changing your windshield wipers before the rainy season starts and you’re cursing yours out. 

“Yeah,” you say, brushing past the knot in your chest. “Starving.” 

The rumble of a diesel engine jolts you awake the next morning, the deep growly sound reverberating through the walls like thunder on an otherwise quiet morning. You groaned, stretching and blinking blearily at the pale light filtering in through the old curtains. It was barely dawn yet, which explains the dull headache you’ve got. 

Sleep had been restless. Tangled thoughts, ruminating on what you’d left behind. A failed engagement, the job you hated, the mix of excuses you had rehearsed for why you’d come back. You’d hoped coming here would ease the ache, but just when you were finally falling back asleep—the truck from hell pulled up to the house. 

The engine is already cut off, but now you can hear voices on the porch. Your dad’s, low and steady, just a hum, and another unfamiliar drawl. Whoever it is, they’re carrying on like the rest of the world wasn’t still trying to wake up. 

You drag yourself out of bed, wearing your soft sleep shorts and a thin shirt. The worn fabric clings to your body in places it shouldn’t, but you’re not thinking about being presentable, you aren’t really thinking at all yet. You drag your feet crossing to the kitchen to pour yourself coffee, for a brief moment you miss the coffee shop you used to stop at on the way to your old job, but the familiar roast your dad’s been loyal to has its charm. Like the free coffee at an AA meeting. It’s there and you need something to keep you going. 

You push past the squeaky screen door, stepping out onto the porch. Your dad sits on the worn bench, coffee in hand. Next to him, leaning casually against the railing is a man you don’t recognize. His black Stetson gives him a classic cowboy silhouette, the morning sun catches on the sharp cut of his jaw and the scruff on his cheeks. His plaid shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, his jeans are worn and dusty in a way that speaks to more than just appearances. 

He straightens when he sees you, pulling his hat off with one hand in a fluid, effortless motion. “Mornin’,” he says, voice low and rich. “You must be the daughter. Joel Miller.” 

You take a sip of your coffee. “Morning,” you mutter, voice still thick from sleep. “You always roll up this early, or is today special?” 

Your dad shoots a look at you, but Joel just chuckles softly. 

“Guessin’ you’re not a morning person?”

Your eyes are narrow, defensive. “I’m just fine in the mornings,” you say in a clipped tone that doesn’t support your statement. “Just not when I’m woken up by a jet engine at the asscrack of dawn.” The chill in the brisk morning air causes you to shiver for a moment somehow making you look more irritated. 

Joel glances at your dad with a faint smirk before tipping his hat to you. “Noted.” 

Your dad laughs. “Should’ve heard her when she was ten,” he says leaning back. “Wouldn’t let anyone tell her what to do. Still doesn’t take shit from anyone I guess.” 

“I’m right here,” you mutter, glaring at him.

“Just sayin’,” your dad replies, raising his mug in mock surrender. He turns back to Joel and they resume their conversation about fence posts or something equally riveting. You let your eyes roam as you wake up, drinking the rest of your coffee, tuning in and out of their conversation about their plans for the day. 

The easy camaraderie between the two of them was clear. Like a friendship forged through shared labor and quiet mornings. They flow between their plans for work and that subtle gossiping that men do–convinced it isn’t really gossip–as they share updates about other folks in town and a few of the local businesses. 

“What about you?” Joel asks, turning to you and pulling you out of the fog. “You’re back for a while then?”  

It’s an innocent question, but it grates at you anyway. You stiffen. “Yeah, just taking some time,” you say vaguely. 

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push for a real answer. You can feel the weight of his curiosity in the air between you. He looks to your dad, who doesn’t elaborate, letting something unspoken pass between them. 

“Well,” Joel drawls, “good timing. Lot of work to do this time of year. If you’re up for it.” 

The comment makes you pull a face. “I’m familiar with hard work,” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. 

Joel’s lips quirk again, into something like a smirk this time. “I’m sure you are,” he says with the faintest edge of a challenge. 

He takes a long swig from his stainless steel travel mug, trying to fix his eyes on the horizon. But damn, if it isn’t a challenge to see you standing there, looking every bit like you’d just rolled out of bed. In a shirt too damn thin for a morning like this, leaving too little to the imagination. 

He knew he shouldn’t be noticing something like that, shouldn’t look at you like that–especially not while you’re standing next to your dad. Hell, he shouldn’t want to look at all, but his eyes betray him. Darting for just a moment to your soft curves and the evidence of the chill in the air–the impression of your stiff nipples protruding in the soft fabric. 

Christ. He swallows hard, landing his eyes back on the scowl you wear on your face. You’re his friend's daughter. It just ain’t right. Sweet young thing like you. He battles the devil on his shoulder that reminds him you aren’t a kid. You’re a woman. A grown woman with your own life and clearly your share of grit, if the sharpness in your voice was anything to go by. 

He shifts on his feet, forcing his attention back to your dad who was still chuckling softly at something. Joel didn’t catch the joke, head too full of thoughts about you–or how to not think about you. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, unsettling him in front of your dad. 

You and him made loose plans for the day while Joel’s mind continued to wander. He shouldn’t have asked about why you were back. Your answer was vague, brushing him off like it was a privilege he hadn’t earned. For some reason that lodged it in his head further. He wanted to know more, even if he shouldn’t. 

Your dad stood up, stretching and declaring that all of you have work to do. You take that as your cue to head back inside, leaving the screen door swinging behind you. Joel lets out a low breath, shaking his head as he turns back to your dad. 

“She’s a spitfire,” Joel comments, keeping his tone neutral.  

“She is,” your dad agrees, adjusting his hat. “Good to have her back.”  

Joel huffs a small laugh, “S’pose we could use a strong woman around here. Keep us in line.” 

“No doubt she will,” your dad says, clapping him on the shoulder. The whole exchange stuck with Joel though. Something under that edge of yours, something unpolished that has him curious in a way he isn’t used to. He shakes his head knowing it isn’t his place to go digging. 

Your dad starts down the front steps. “Let’s get moving, then.” Joel moves mechanically, boots falling in line with your dad’s, but his mind is half on you—in that t-shirt, with that scowl on your face, and that faraway look that he’d like to unravel. 

You were used to hard work but your muscles weren’t exactly dialed in for the functional conditioning. It was humbling as you found yourself aching and exhausted by the end of the night. However, the fatigue did make it easier to fall asleep once your head hit the pillow instead of spiraling on about your failures until the birds started chirping. 

The next few days gave you a jump start into the rural routine. In bed early, up before the sun. Hot showers before dinner to wash away the layer of sweat and sweet-smelling dust from the pine shavings and hay. You found yourself looking forward to the strong coffee and the cool morning air before you started with your day. 

Your dad, and Joel, learned quickly to let you wake up rather than ask questions as they caught up on their plans before heading out together or splitting up. You didn’t mind listening, but you could feel Joel’s eyes lingering on you now and then. It made your spine straighten, determined to hide the sore muscles in your shoulders from him. If he was waiting to hear a complaint from you it was never gonna come. 

Despite getting more rest and having an endless list of labor to keep you moving–you often found yourself working solo and in silence during the day. A silence that your mind was more than happy to fill. You rehashed memories and dissected those little moments from your relationship with your ex-fiance that you wish you had seen more clearly at the time. 

You’re deep in one of those memories, mindlessly stacking bales of hay onto the trailer for a delivery your dad is making tomorrow when Joel enters the other end of the barn. He leans against the door, arms crossed loosely over his chest, just watching you work. The warm scent of hay fills the air, grounding and everpresent in his life. 

It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a common chore he’d do without thinking twice. But watching you was a whole different story. Your shirt was damp with sweat as you leaned into the work like you’d done it your whole life. You climb up a stack of bales and toss down some from the top of the next row, unaware of his presence. 

He is mesmerized by you. The sharp look on your face like you were mulling over an argument, the fluid movements as you worked, and the determination radiating off of you as you worked at an urgent pace. 

His gaze drifts lower as you climb down and bend to heave another bale onto the flatbed trailer. The muscles in his jaw tense as he lingers on the curve of your back as you bend to grab another. The way your legs shift as you work. The outline of your body in that shirt, the soft grunt you let out as you hoist another bale had him thinking indecent thoughts before he could stop himself. 

Joel drags his hand over his face, fingers brushing his scruffy jaw. Heat burning within him that has nothing to do with the Texas sun transforms into irritation. He was considering copping out and disappearing before you even noticed him when he was outed by the damn barn cats. 

The orange cat comes sprinting towards him, but it’s the black and white one meow-yelling at him down the aisle that catches your attention. A dull thud echoes through the barn as you drop another bale and watch as Joel squats down to give the cats the attention they demand. You watch, catching your breath. He’s gentle with them, murmuring something you can’t hear before he stands and strolls toward you. 

“Afternoon,” he greets you in his deep baritone voice. Joel grabs the two-string bale of hay in front of you and drops it on the trailer with ease, grabbing another before you can interject. 

“I can handle it.” You huff as you resume your task. 

“Never said you couldn’t,” he replies smoothly, setting another down. “Thought it’d go faster with two sets of hands.” 

“I wasn’t in a hurry.” You eye him warily for a moment before slipping into a coordinated dance like it was natural. Tossing the rest that needed to be loaded up into the aisle for him to grab. You work in silence, just the sounds of hay shifting and boots scuffing against the barn floor. 

You break the silence first. “Dad says you and your brother hit the rodeo circuit in the summer. That true?” 

Joel huffs a soft laugh. “True.”

“You compete?”

“Team roping,” he says, his voice warming slightly. “Me and Tommy hit most of the circuits within a day's drive from here. Keeps us outta trouble.”

You roll your eyes. “Hard to picture you in trouble, cowboy.”

Joel’s smirk returned, faint but there. “You’d be surprised, sweetheart.” He matches your playful tone. 

His words linger as you work, stirring something you don’t quite know what to do with. Your mind drifts to the idea of rodeoing, the adrenaline of it, the discipline it demands. You forgot how much you missed it, how much you gave up chasing a life that didn’t pan out the way you hoped. 

Joel shifts beside you, the faint scrape of his boots pulling you back to the present. You glance at him, catching the way his shirt clung slightly to his back, the easy strength in the way he moves.

For a moment, the quiet feels comfortable. Easy. The steady rhythm fills the space. But eventually, Joel speaks again. 

“Your dad said you used to spend summers out here,” he says, in a low and easy tone. 

“Yeah,” you say, a little out of breath from the exertion. “When I was a kid.”

Joel brushes some loose hay off of his shirt. “Guessin’ it’s different now.” 

“Everything’s different now,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. 

His brow furrows slightly. “What brought you back?” 

You hesitate, not looking him in the eye. You’re searching for an answer in the dust particles caught in a beam of sunlight. “Just needed time to…rebuild.” It’s still vague. 

“You runnin’ from something?” 

You tense at that, before covering it in sarcasm. “I’m not an outlaw,” you jest, earning you a small smile. He doesn’t press further, but you feel his eyes on you, steady, and patient like he’s waiting in case you offer more. 

“It’s not as simple as people make it sound,” you say finally, the words slipping out before can stop them. “Starting over, that is.” You sit on a bale and pull your work gloves off, running the back of your hand over your forehead smearing sweat and dust in a most unsatisfying way. 

“No, it ain’t,” he adds quietly. 

Something in his tone makes your chest tighten, but you ignore the sensation. “What about you? How’d you end up here?” 

“Had to start over myself, I reckon,” he muses, dusting off his hands before sitting down next to you. The words hang in the air, heavier than you expected. He doesn’t look at you, instead, he watches the cats play with a piece of baling twine. “This place made it easier—focusing on getting the house built and getting the business running. Your dad helped too.” 

That catches you off guard. “My dad?” 

Joel nods, finally meeting your eyes. “Just seemed to understand, I guess.” 

You stare at him. You’re disarmed by the softness in his tone. Like there’s more beneath the surface if you ask for it. 

Joel feels the air thicken. He takes in the way your sweat-damp shirt clings to you, and the heavy rise and fall of your chest. For a split second, an image flashes in his mind—your chest heaving for a very different reason, your skin flushed and shining. His throat tightens, and he looks away quickly, cursing himself for letting his thoughts slip. 

The cats weave between your legs, easing the silence. But the air between you still feels charged. Your thighs are nearly touching. The proximity feels overwhelming for some reason and you're suddenly caught up in the details of his profile as he stares down at the floor. The lines at the corner of his eye, his nose, his lips.

He clears his throat and slaps a palm on his thigh. “Well,” he starts, standing up rather abruptly. “Just came by to check-in. See how you’re settling in.” 

“What?” You frown. You miss the grimace that flashes on his face, your eyes drawn to the cats darting away from the two of you. “How I’m settling in?” 

“Yeah, you know…” he gestures vaguely around the barn and your brows furrow and your eyes sharpen at him. Irritation flickers behind your eyes. 

“I told you I’m not afraid of hard work,” you snap, jumping to your feet in front of him. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he grumbles, like you’re misunderstanding him. 

“Did my dad send you to ‘check in’ on me? Or did you want to see if I could keep up?” 

“It ain’t like that.” He says lowly. 

“Right.” You cut, crossing your arms. You’re over this rollercoaster of a conversation. Your eyes catch on the deep crease between his brows and the glint in his dark eyes. Something flares in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s indignation or something else entirely. “Then what is it?”

His jaw tightens, gaze locked with yours. Something unspoken flickers in his expression. But instead of answering, he straightens, stepping back. “Doesn’t matter,” he says curtly. 

Your stomach twists at the coolness of his tone, the connection you just felt snapping like a wire. 

“This was a mistake,” Joel mutters to himself. 

“What was?” you asked, your voice deadly quiet. 

Joel only shakes his head before striding toward the far door. His boots echo on the floor and the cats follow after him like shadows, their tails swishing as they dart out into the sun. Joel pauses in the doorway, glancing back with a look you don’t understand. 

“Don’t work too hard now.” His voice carries easily before he stalks off.

Your thoughts have you spinning. “The fuck is his problem?” you wonder out loud, sharp in the warm air. In the space he left. 

But deep down, you can feel the edge of something else. Something more than frustration, curling low and unwelcome in your chest. The weight of his gaze was still lingering, and try as you might, you can’t ignore the way his presence had pressed into every corner of the barn, or the faint scent of leather and bourbon that still hangs in the air. 

Your routine locks into place, and the days begin to pass in a blur. Joel stops by for coffee and acts like the conversation you had in the barn never happened. The stoic, gruff cowboy thing works just fine with you. Except for the moments you catch him staring at you like he’s trying to find an answer to something he never asked.

If you’re honest, though, despite your hostility, you seem to catch yourself studying him with the same frequency and intensity. You’re loath to admit you catch yourself hung up on his obnoxiously broad shoulders, his arms sculpted from the physically demanding work, and that gravelly morning voice he has before he finishes his coffee.

Aside from whatever Joel’s problem with you is, everything else seems to be falling into place. You catch up on your dad’s list of projects. You pick up a part-time job at the feed store in town, keeping yourself too busy to have idle time and too tired to dwell on the past or the future. You get to know folks in the town while you work at the register.

The town seems smaller than it was when you were a kid, but there’s also a charm in the simplicity that you find comfort in. The regulars keep you up to date on the town gossip, and you’re laughing loudly with your boss, Linda, one day over a joke she’d never admit to teaching you when your neighbor struts up to you with a list in hand for a bulk feed order.

You’re cordial to him and the man at his side who gives you a flirty wink that has you raising your eyebrows in disbelief for a moment before you put it together. “You must be Tommy?”

He grins brightly and offers his hand. “And you must be the neighbor?” You give him your name and a polite smile. Your eyes flick to Joel, taking in his neutral expression. His hands rest in his pockets, but his posture is loose, his broad shoulders back in a way that draws your eye before you can stop yourself.

As you enter the details of their order into the prehistoric computer, Linda chats both of the men up, asking them about their horses and when their next rodeo is.

You give Joel his total and take his payment, trying not to roll your eyes when he doesn’t make eye contact with you. You’re ready for the interaction with him to be over when Linda puts you on the spot.

“This one’s been talking about looking for a project horse of her own.” She nods her head toward you. “You boys have any leads for her?”

You can feel your face heating up as they both look at you. It’s not like it was a secret, but you weren’t planning on making Joel privy to your plans. You still haven’t forgotten the way he said this was a mistake after having one conversation with you. Or the way he is always looking at you. Like you don’t belong here or something.

“I’ll do you one better,” Tommy says. “We’ve got a couple of colts just getting started under saddle. They could use the miles, and they’re real sweet-tempered if you wanna come by during the week.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” You give him a genuine smile. “I’m actually going to take a look at one that’s got potential this weekend. Marilyn from the post office said her cousin’s got a six-year-old quarter horse she’d sell for a steal.”

Joel lets out a dismissive laugh under his breath. “You mean that Hancock gelding? The blue roan?”

“Yeah.” You confirm, slowly growing more confused by the reactions on all of their faces. “Why?”

Linda’s mouth is hanging open like you said the devil was gonna sell you his horse. Tommy gives you a modest smile like you’ve told him two plus two equals eight, but he’s too polite to correct you. Joel’s expression remains unreadable, but the crease between his brows deepens.

“Am I missing something?” you ask, hoping for an explanation. You do not like feeling like you’re being played for a fool. 

“She’d sell that horse for a dime and a handshake,” Linda says. “Her cousin broke her jaw getting bucked off that horse. That’s why he’s been out to pasture ever since.”

You’re quiet for a beat before the familiar challenge and determination wrap around your heart. “Can’t hurt to look,” you say with a shrug.

“Hancocks are notoriously stubborn and broncy,” Joel adds, his tone low and edged with warning.

“They’re also incredibly smart, loyal, and full of try if you earn their trust and ask ‘em the right way,” you shoot back, meeting his eyes for just a moment too long. Why does it always feel like he thinks you’re out of your element? Does he think you’re incompetent? It only strengthens your desire to prove him wrong.

Joel’s mouth presses into a thin line, but his gaze doesn’t waver, and it stirs something uncomfortable low in your chest.

“So I’ve heard,” Tommy cuts the tension simmering between you and Joel. “Offer still stands if he doesn’t work out.”

“Thanks.” You pointedly direct your appreciation to Tommy, not looking back at Joel. “We’ll give you a call when the order’s in.”

They take that as their signal to move along. You think that would be the end of the drama for the day, but Linda’s got one more tidbit in store after the door closes behind the two men.

“God, those two are so hot it’s unbearable,” she sighs. It catches you off guard, and you blink at her. “Too bad they’re cowboy Casanovas.”

“What?” You give her a scrupulous look, shifting on your feet as she leans against the counter.

“Oh, yeah,” Linda says with a knowing smirk. “Every buckle bunny in a three-county radius knows those two. I hear they have a sign-up sheet at the trailer.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head, but the image comes unbidden—Joel, shirtless and panting, sweat glistening on his chest, his jeans slung low on his hips, every muscle taut as he leans over some woman. His gravelly drawl slides through your mind like warm honey as he murmurs something low and dirty, but you can’t make out the words. Your thought derails violently, and you scowl at yourself, heat rushing up your neck, but Linda’s still talking. 

“I’d stand in line for either of ‘em if I were single,” she adds with a shrug.

The image morphs into smug Joel tipping his hat, a self-satisfied grin on his face as some random woman climbs out of his bed. Your throat tightens unexpectedly, and you shove the thought away, scowling at the knot of irritation it leaves behind.

The trailer rocks faintly as you haul it slowly down the driveway toward the barn. Blue shifts inside, and the loud thud of him pawing at the floor, anxious to get out of the small space, echoes loudly in the driveway as you ease to a stop. You cut the engine and hop out of the cab, you can hear your dad’s boots on the porch steps before he’s striding toward you. “You actually brought him home, huh?” 

“You knew I would.” You grin. Your dad unlatches the trailer door and you slip past the divider to untie your new gelding and back him out of the trailer. Blue’s ears flick rapidly and he snorts like a dragon, wary of his unfamiliar surroundings, but you steady him with a calm voice and wait for him to drop his head before coaxing him backward. 

His hooves hit the solid ground and he blows out a sharp breath, shaking his neck to de-stress. “He’s gonna be perfect,” you say, running a hand along his neck. “Just needs someone who knows what they’re doing.” 

Your dad gives you a look that says he knows he couldn’t change your mind if he tried. His gaze flicks over Blue’s body, taking in his confirmation and conditioning, the scar on his back leg, the brand on his flank, and the stocky ranch horse build. “Linda said he’s got a bad reputation.” 

“Linda says a lot of things,” you shoot back, leading Blue toward the barn. “He was misunderstood. Had a rough start, that’s all. That girl who got bucked off never shoulda had him to begin with—not after he’d been out to pasture for so long. She was scared, and he felt it.” 

Your dad hums, the kind of sound that tells you he’s skeptical but not enough to argue. “Well, he’s in good hands now.” 

“And we both know I like a challenge,” you say with a steady voice, edged with something sharper. 

The sound of boots on gravel draws your attention and you glance back to see Joel strolling over from the direction of his property. His hat tipped low as his dark eyes flick between you and Blue. 

“Afternoon,” he calls, steady and smooth. 

Your dad turns and gives him a nod. “Joel.” 

“That the Hancock gelding?” 

“Yeah,” you reply shortly, adjusting Blue’s halter. 

Joel steps closer, his expression unreadable as he studies the gelding. Blue swishes his tail before shifting his weight, resting one back leg like he’s already starting to relax. Joel walks a circle around Blue, before pausing next to your dad. “Well-built,” he comments. “Is he sound?” 

You can barely hold back your eye-roll. “I had Barb meet me at the farm for a pre-purchase exam. Passed with flying colors.” You swallow down your irritation. Once again Joel thinks you’re a fool? That you’d go off and pick up a horse without a vet inspection? Before you give Joel a piece of your mind you take a steadying breath, grounding yourself and whispering into Blue’s ear. “He might doubt both of us but he’ll be eating his fuckin’ words real quick once you and I get started.” With that, you turn away and lead Blue to the barn. 

Joel watches the two of you walk off, resting his hand on his hip. “She got a death wish or somethin’?” he grumbles.

Your dad crosses his arms, both men still watching the barn door where the two of you disappeared. “She’s tougher than she looks. And she’s got more patience than the two of us combined—for animals that is. Lord knows she’ll let us have it just for looking at her sideways.” 

Joel grunts, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck at the thought of you telling him off. “Hope you’re right.” 

“It’ll be good for her to have her own project. Haven’t seen that light in her eyes since she got here. S’about time she started moving on.” Your dad’s words eat at Joel. He still wants to know what you’re trying to rebuild from, but he doesn’t ask. Letting the silence stretch before your dad continues. 

“Plus, she’s got the right touch for it,” your dad drawls, tone laced with pride. “Always drawn to the ones that seem a little rough around the edges.” 

Joel doesn’t respond right away. His eyes narrow on the horizon, but his gaze flicks back to where you walked off, the sway of your hips lingering longer than it should. The deeply twisted interpretation of your dad’s words messing with his mind. 

In the barn, Blue seems less concerned about getting the lay of the land now that there’s food in front of him. He munches greedily, tearing hay out of the net tied in the stall. You’re buzzing with a mix of emotions, already imagining the next steps for the two of you. 

Your thoughts fall back on Joel and your dad, their low voices carrying faintly in the warm air. You can picture Joel still standing there, one hand on his hip, eyes fixed on you, that infuriatingly unreadable look expression he always has. 

Your chest tightens, heat rising in your cheeks as you lean against the stall door. You hate how Joel looks at you like that. Like he’s waiting for you to fuck up. To prove him right. Like he’s already decided you’re in over your head. 

“He doesn’t know me,” you mutter under your breath, “doesn’t know you,” you tell Blue, “doesn’t know shit.” 

Blue snorts softly, and you take that as his agreement, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Days blur into a steady rhythm—early mornings with Blue, afternoons at the feed store, and long evenings under the arena lights. Each ride sharpens your connection with him, his turns growing tighter, his strides more confident. Progress comes in small, steady victories, each one lighting a spark of hope in your chest.

One afternoon, when the sun hangs low in the sky, painting the fields with warm hues of orange and gold. From his spot near the fence of his own property, Joel leans one arm against the top rail, his black felt Stetson shading his eyes. Across the way, you’re working with Blue in the makeshift round pen. 

Joel can tell from the way you hold yourself that you’re tired. Your shoulders seem stiff and your jaw tense. But you don’t stop. Your voice carries in the breeze, warm and steady as you encourage Blue to make another pass. 

The horse resists, throwing his head and stomping at the ground, but you don’t flinch. You give him the space to settle before asking again. Joel’s lips twitch, with a hint of a smile. You’ve got grit. 

He can’t shake the feeling that you’re working off more than just the horse’s rough edges. You move with purpose and focus, but with a weight that doesn’t seem entirely about Blue. 

From where Joel stands, he can’t make out every detail, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from lingering. You draw his attention with a pull that he can’t resist. Against his better judgment. He traces the line of your spine as you step forward, the way your hips shift when you pivot. He knows better than to look, knows it’s wrong, but he can’t stop himself. 

Blue gives in, his steps evening out as he settles into a steady rhythm circling you. Joel watches as you slow him to a halt. The tension in your posture releases and you reach out with ease and satisfaction to stroke Blue’s neck. 

That invisible pull between you draws your eyes to where Joel is standing. Your face hardens when you catch him observing your training session. He gives you a nod before pushing off the rail and heading into the barn. 

He catches glimpses of you working together in the mornings and evenings. He tries to stop himself from watching, but it’s useless. He catches himself inadvertently timing out his schedule to be able to keep an eye on you. Tells himself he wants to be sure someone’s keeping an eye on you in case something goes wrong. Or that he’s curious about your progress. 

He can admit he admires your perseverance and the skill you have. He would never admit the way he finds himself waking up hard and aching thinking about you and what it’d feel like to have your hips rocking on his lap instead of a saddle, your tits bouncing in his face, and your sweet blissed out smile. And when trudges up the steps of your porch in the mornings to see if your dad needs anything from town—he prays neither of you can see the remnants of his sins in his eyes. 

He can’t stop himself from trying to talk to you, though. One morning he asks straight up, “How’s the project horse coming along?” He tries to sound casual, averting his eyes as he sips his coffee. 

Your smile flickers, equal parts excitement and hesitation flashing across your face. “Good,” you say after a beat, sitting on the wooden bench. “He learns quick, got good stamina and drive.” 

Joel hums, tilting his head slightly. “He give you any trouble?” 

Your jaw tenses, though you try to hide it. “Nothing I can’t handle,” you reply, tightly. 

Joel nods. “Good,” he says simply, but he still looks at you, like there’s something else weighing on his mind. 

Your dad clears his throat, breaking the tension. “She’s got him started on the pattern already.” 

“You gonna run barrels?” Joel asks, curiosity sneaking into his eyes. 

“That’s the plan.” 

Joel hums, taking a long pause. “You wanna run him in a real arena? Bring him over to get some practice in with the right kind of footing and see what he’s really got for a motor?” 

Your eyes narrow and your shoulders tighten, straining with disbelief. A real arena? It’s like nothing you do is ever good enough for him. “We’re getting along just fine as is, thanks.” The words are dripping with venom as you slip back into the house letting the screendoor slam shut behind you. 

Joel’s brows furrow. “Didn’t mean no harm, by it,” he says to your dad. “My mistake,” he adds gruffly. 

Your dad looks a bit miffed at the sharpness of your rejection but gives Joel a shrug back. “She’s always gotta do it her own way.” 

The conversation with Joel sticks in your mind. You’re still chewing it over that evening as you run Blue through some drills, working on his lead changes and corners. When you finally bring him down to walk to cool down you hear the sound of hooves hitting the dirt across the field. Sharp and rhythmic. You walk Blue along the fence line. Pausing when you catch sight of Joel and Tommy in their outdoor arena. 

Their horses move like extensions of their bodies. You loosen the reins, letting Blue’s head sway with every step as you stay transfixed on the two men. Tommy’s bay gelding moves with a quick, snappy stride. His hindquarters tucked under him as he spins on a dime at Tommy’s commend. You can feel the thrill and see Tommy’s grin from where you sit. It’s infectious. You roll your eyes as he tosses his rope catching the dummy steer in a single fluid motion. 

You make another lap before you let yourself study Joel. 

He’s riding his big red mare, her muscles rippling in the sun as she powers forward at a lope. Joel’s hand is steady on the reins, his posture relaxed but exact. Every movement he makes is calculated, and deliberate, yet to an untrained eye seems completely natural and fluid. Like he and his horse were born to do it. He barely shifts to ask the mare to pivot. Her body arcs beautifully, bending around his leg as they make a sharp turn toward the roping dummy. 

You’ve seen good riders before, but there’s something different about the way works. He doesn’t just ride—he leads. Every muscle he moves is a quiet conversation between him and his horse. It’s seamless and controlled. And damn if it isn’t mesmerizing. 

He leans forward slightly, and your mouth goes dry watching his arm flexing as he tosses the rope with precision. His red mare halts instantly, kicking up dirt around her hooves. Joel adjusts his hat with a smooth motion, you can see the focus on his face. Serious and competitive.

You swallow hard as you change directions, still walking on a loose rein very aware that Blue’s sweat is long dried by now. You feel warmth burning in your core that has nothing to do with your tired muscles. He looks good out there. Too good. The kind of good that makes you think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about. Your eyes drift, taking in the way his jeans hug his thighs, the line of his back as he shifts in the saddle. You imagine his hands, thick, precise fingers. Something coils hot and tight within you. You shake your head at yourself. You are not having those thoughts about Joel Miller who thinks you don’t know your ass from your elbow. You swing your leg over the back of the saddle dropping to your feet. Loosening your cinch and still trying to shake your thoughts out of your mind when you hear Tommy hollering at you. 

“Watch and learn, neighbor!” Tommy calls, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You glance up, cheeks burning as Tommy tips his hat your way with his charismatic grin. Joel follows his gaze, dark eyes locking on you for a moment. Tommy gives you a demonstration of his prowess with the rope–as if you hadn’t been watching–but, Joel says nothing before turning his mare and heading in the opposite direction. 

His cool look sends a shiver down your spine. 

You walk back to the barn, and the sound of their horses fades behind you, but that image of Joel sears into your mind. His commanding and maddeningly attractive exhibition just stoked a fire you’re desperate to ignore. 

You have the same stubborn streak as your father and you’d be damned if you’re gonna cave and ask Joel to use his facility. You find a summer barrel series in a nearby town with low entry fees that runs weekly. You start hauling Blue out to get some experience. At first, his runs are clumsy, but as you get your miles in, his turns get tighter, his confidence grows, and your times get quicker. And you quickly feel like the two of you are ready to enter your first rodeo. The air smells like dirt and livestock, as you unload your horse and tie him to the side of your trailer. There’s a hum from the generators, buzzing conversations, and the occasional whinny of a horse or thud as one paws at the dirt. You had made a point not to ask if Joel and Tommy would be attending, but you catch his familiar shoulders tapering to his slim waist, with one boot on the lowest rung of the fence a few yards ahead when you head toward the warmup pen before your division gets called. He isn’t even facing your direction but you instinctively square your shoulders and raise your chin. You wonder if he’s just here to see if you’re going to fail. Or maybe he’s just watching to earn some other woman’s favor. 

Something ugly simmers in your blood and your chest feels tight. You attribute it to irritation, refusing to acknowledge any alternate reasons. You’re going to prove him wrong. 

You’re still staring at him when he turns to say something to the man standing next to him. You grit your teeth. Superstitious–as every cowboy is–his usual salt and pepper scruff is neatly trimmed, he’s got on a pair of deep blue Wranglers–nicer than you figure he owned, and a crisp long-sleeve pearl snap. Dressed to earn Lady Luck’s favor. 

The devil on your shoulder whispers a thought in Linda’s teasing voice. He doesn’t need to do all that to get lucky. You take a deep breath and peel yourself away from the sight. You’re here to focus on Blue, not your asshole neighbor and his conquests. Despite trying to let go of your issues with Joel, a scowl stays plastered on your face throughout your warmup. Blue picks up on your distraction and he’s a little hot, as you head him toward the alleyway when it’s time for your run. Against your will, your eyes search for Joel. A wash of heat floods your veins when you find him already watching you. He mouths good luck at you and you can only manage a curt smile before you’re pushing Blue to a lope, making one tight circle before you cross the start. The sound of his hooves pounding into the dirt matches the blood pounding in your ears. The burst of adrenaline is instant. The run isn’t perfect. He breaks his stride around the second barrel and you lose time nudging him back into rhythm, but you finish the pattern without knocking anything over. The announcer calls your time as you slow to a trot, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. It’s such a blur you don’t think to look for Joel. You don’t think about him at all until you’re untacking Blue at your trailer, brushing sweat marks from his coat when movement near another horse trailer catches your eye. Joel stands close to a woman with long, shiny dark hair. She flashes a wide smile, leaning toward him and resting a hand lightly on his arm. The sight makes you grimace. You shove down the feeling. “None of our business,” you mutter to Blue as you keep brushing. But, your eyes flick back despite yourself. She tilts her head, laughing at something he says, or doesn’t say, you can’t tell. He stands stiffly, hands in his pockets. You can’t see his face from your angle.

The woman reaches to touch him again, and you feel a headache brewing in the back of your skull. Joel glances away from her, landing in your direction for the shortest moment, before his weight shifts and he takes a small step back. You scowl again, tossing your brush back into the tack room shelf with more force than necessary making Blue toss his head. Your heart thuds louder than it should and you run a hand over Blue’s cheek, murmuring softly to calm both him and yourself. When you glance back, the woman is still talking, but Joel’s looking at you again. His dark eyes are sharp under the brim of his hat. He nods, barely noticeable, before turning away from the woman entirely. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to take another deep breath before loading Blue back into the trailer to head out. You weren’t sticking around to watch any of the other events. Especially not the team roping. 

You smile when you pull onto the highway though. You count the day as a success and feel ready to enter a bigger rodeo. The idea makes you glow. Finally feeling like you’re getting back to your true self. You feel like a new woman compared to the version of you that showed packed up her truck desperate to put miles between your ex-fiance and your corporate nightmare.

“It’s not that bad,” you argue, crossing your arms as your dad leans against the truck with a skeptical look. “The hell it’s not,” he replies, gesturing toward the trailer. “That’s floor is one step away from dropping your horse onto the damn highway.” You sigh, dragging a hand over your face. “I know,” you grumble lowly, disappointment sinking in your stomach. “I was just hoping you’d see something I didn’t.” “Sorry kid,” your dad says. “S’fine. I’ll figure something out. Or just eat the entry fees I paid.” “Or,” he says pointedly, “you could ask Joel.” You glare at him, fire burning in your chest. “I don’t need his charity.” “Ain’t charity,” he interrupts your sour attitude with a gruff tone. “He’s practically family. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your goals.” The words stick, heavy and uncomfortable. You’ve got half a mind to keep arguing. Joel might be your dad’s best friend, but he’s nothing like family to you. But before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re dragging yourself up the steps of Joel’s front porch. 

You realize as your boot hits the last step that you’ve never been to his place. He always offers to have you and your dad over for a whiskey or for a fire out back, but you always brush him off. You see why your dad takes him up on it though. It’s beautifully made with stunning wooden chairs and a bench for seating. You’d consider complimenting him on his craftsmanship if you weren’t already dreading what you’re about to say. Joel opens the door, his hat already in hand like he’d been expecting you. “Somethin’ wrong?” “Yeah,” you admit, trying not to hesitate. “Uh, trailer’s shot,” you point your thumb in the direction of your dad’s place. “Was wondering if you’d have room in your trailer to haul Blue with your horses.” 

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. The gleam in his eye makes you want to say never mind. You brace for a smart-ass remark. “‘Course,” he replies. You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. “Of course?” 

He leans back into the house to grab something, then he’s handing you his keys. “Load your tack up tonight, and get your bags in the living quarters.” “No need,” you shake your head, leaving him holding the keys between you. “I’ve got the truck. And a tent.” 

Joel leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. You pointedly avoid how his sleeves strain around his biceps. “You’re ridin’ with us. Not riskin’ that truck dyin’ on the highway.” You glare, lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, you’ve got a trailer with a busted floor and a truck with more miles than you’d like to admit on it—while, Joel, has a shiny truck from this decade and a horse trailer with a tack room and living quarters. Probably has AC and everything. You catch the glint in his eye, realizing you’re the one asking for a favor and you steel yourself, reminding yourself to bite your tongue.

“Fine,” you grit out, holding your hand out for the keys.

The truck hums beneath you, the steady vibration doing nothing to ease the thick tension in the cab. Tommy’s passed out in the back seat, his hat tipped low over his face, leaving you alone with Joel and the steady drone of the country ballad playing through the speakers.

“You always listen to this?” you ask, breaking the silence as you reach toward the radio.

Joel glances at you, one hand resting casually on the wheel. “Somethin’ wrong with it?”

“Didn’t know you were a ‘sad songs for sad cowboys’ kind of guy,” you mutter, flicking through stations before he can answer.

Joel doesn’t stop you, but when you pause on something irritatingly upbeat, his hand moves toward the knob just as yours does.

Your fingers brush his, and the contact jolts through you like a live wire.

You pull back instinctively, your breath catching as your heart slams against your ribs. Joel pauses for half a second before retreating, his knuckles tightening faintly on the wheel.

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Joel stares ahead, his jaw clenching as his thoughts spiral. He knew telling you to ride with him was playing with fire. But he can’t stay away from the heat. You glance out the window, pretending the spark you felt wasn’t real. It’s just Joel, always better than you, always an ass. The charged silence stretches on though, every shift of his hand on the wheel drawing your attention. Every shallow breath reminds you of his proximity. 

“This’ll do,” you say tightly. Joel huffs softly, but says nothing, keeping his eyes pointed straight ahead. Neither of you speaks again for the rest of the drive, but the weight of the accidental touch remains, thick and suffocating. The rodeo grounds are already alive with motion by the time you’re parked and unloading the horses. The evening sun casts an amber glow over the circus of trucks, tents, and trailers. You help get the portable fence set up and the horses settled before the three of you head off to check in at the visitor's tent and get your meal tickets. 

The smell of barbecue wafts through the air and you get in line to fill your plate. Folks chat eagerly. Tommy strikes up an easy conversation with a group of riders near the picnic tables. You watch as some folks head back to their campsites, hesitating on whether you want to do the same or find a table. Joel passes you and sits at a nearby table and before you can debate any longer a voice interrupts your thoughts. “Long travel day?” the wiry cowboy drawls, tipping his hat and gesturing to the bench next to him. “Take a seat.” 

You give him a quizzical look, but you’re hungry enough to take the opportunity to sit and eat. 

“Name’s Cody.” He introduces himself while you eat. He tells you he’s a bull rider. Asks if you’re runnin’ barrels tomorrow. He’s chatty with a smooth and easy voice and a playful look on his youthful face. You answer his questions, politely, suddenly keenly aware of Joel’s gaze boring into the back of your head. It makes your spine prickle with something you can’t name. The heat of his stare burns into you, fierce and unwavering, making every laugh at Cody’s jokes feel like defiance. Cody continues on and you find it easy to listen to his stories, but you can’t help feeling compelled to glance over your shoulder betraying the distraction you’re trying to ignore. Cody points out some of the other riders he knows and invites you to come hang out at their campsite and have a drink. You’re still searching for the right words when you catch sight of Joel walking swiftly past your table. He mutters something to Tommy–who seems to be proving Linda’s rumors true with a woman wrapped around his arm and batting her lashes at him–and stalks off. Your stomach twists as you watch him go, irritation flaring hot and fast. “The fuck is his problem?” you mutter under your breath, turning back to your plate. Cody shrugs, clearly oblivious. “Who knows? Anyway—” But you’ve already tuned him out, your eyes following the path Joel struts down before he disappears.

You joined Cody and his friend for one drink, hoping it would ease your nerves. He had a kind group, a little rough around the edges, but tough as nails like you’d expect bull riders to be. They kept your mind distracted with their wild stories, but you decided to head back to the trailer before anyone got drunk and stupid. The walk back to the trailer feels longer than it should, every step weighed down by something stirring within you, something that has you on edge. You check on the horses before pulling the door open and climbing into the living quarters. The cool night air hasn’t soothed the heat that’s been simmering within you since dinner—or since that moment in the truck if you’re honest. You toe off your boots before looking up to see Joel, leaning against the wall, his jaw set tight, and his eyes sharp as they snap to yours.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, realizing it’s just the two of you in the small space. “Reckon he’ll be out til the sun's up,” Joel says in a quiet, low tone. “Alright,” you nod. Another point goes to Linda for that one, you figure. Joel’s jaw remains set in that infuriatingly unreadable way that seems to be his signature look. The dim light in the trailer casts sharp shadows across his face that darken his gaze. “You enjoy yourself? With your new friend?” he asks, his voice raw, edged with something you can’t place. You stop short, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me?” He steps closer, reaching past you to hang his hat on the hook by the door. “Took your time gettin’ back.” He says, his eyes flick over you, dark and assessing. You’re acutely aware of the scent of the campfire on your shirt and beer on your lips. It swirls with his leather and bourbon musk like they were designed to enhance each other. His words sink in, cutting and daring. “What’s your point?” “Did you fuck him?” The bluntness of it knocks the breath out of you. Your mouth falls open. Shock and fury battling for control as you glare at him. “What did you just say to me?” “You heard me, sweetheart,” Joel says, his voice calm but razor-sharp. “Just wondering if that cowboy got what he was after.” It takes everything in you not to slap him across the face. “What the fuck,” you hiss, stepping closer, your fists clenched at your sides, “makes you think you’ve got the right to ask me that, Joel?” 

He shrugs his shoulders, but his expression remains cold. “Lookin’ out for you. Your dad’d kill me if I didn’t.” You laugh bitterly. “Bullshit.” His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. Silence fanning the flames within you. “You aren’t my dad,” you snap, voice trembling with rage. “And you sure as hell don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t fuck.” Joel’s eyes narrow, his shoulders stiffening as he steps even closer. “That’s not what I—” “Save it,” you cut him off, word sharp as a whip. “I don’t know why you think I’m so weak or clueless all the time. Like I can’t handle myself. Like I’m some kid you’ve gotta babysit.” 

Joel’s expression hardens, his dark eyes flash with something that looks like hurt beneath his anger. “That’s what you think I see?” his words come out like a dangerous growl. “That’s how you’ve acted toward me since day one,” you fire back, stepping toe-to-toe with him. “If you don’t respect me, Joel, just stay out of my business.” His chest rises and falls sharply, his breath warm against your skin as the air between you thickens. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” he barks, voice tight with frustration. “Explain it to me then,” you challenge. Shaking with the force of everything you’ve been holding back. “Or stay away from me if I’m such a thorn in your side.” He works his jaw, and for a moment you’re glued to the corded muscle in his neck and the exposed golden brown skin of his chest. He glares at you, making no move to back off. His voice drops sinfully low and quiet. “You really wanna know?” “Yeah,” you breathe, heart pounding like it’s trying to break through your ribcage. “I do.” His hand moves fast, gripping your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to make your breath catch. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he accuses in a rough and uneven voice. You blink. “What?” “You heard me,” he rumbles, dark eyes locked on yours. “From the first day, you showed up here, lookin’ at me like you had somethin’ to prove.” Anger burns in your veins. “How does that make me your problem?” His grip tightens, his body presses closer. “You ain’t my problem,” he mutters. Guilt twists into his words, “Shouldn’t even be lookin’ at you like this. S’wrong.” He swallows thickly, only sharpening the edge in his voice. “But I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, and it’s pissin’ me off.” His confession hits you like a brick over the head. The trailer is silent, but the sound of the blood rushing in your ears, and your ragged exhale seems deafening. 

“Then stop,” you challenge, voice trembling with defiance. “If it’s so wrong, just leave me alone.” Joel’s eyes darken, his other hand settles on your hip, fingers digging into you. “Can’t,” he says,  voice so thick with frustration, it sounds like it hurts. “Don’t think I want to.” 

Silence stretches and time feels thick and warped. Your ragged breaths fill the space. His eyes search for a reason to stop, but he finds none. 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he drops your wrist to wrap a large hand around your jaw, pulling you into a feverish kiss. Nothing gentle about it. It’s raw and desperate, equal parts frustration and hunger. Your fingers curl into his shirt as if you could pull him any closer, even as your teeth scrape over his bottom lip, in a sharp, biting challenge that makes him groan low in his throat. He angles your face so he can kiss you deeper, harder, until your knees feel like they might give out. Your mind goes blank, flashing white with anger and need. All you can process is the hot slip of his tongue against yours and the sharp bristle of his facial hair against your tender lips. Your back hits the cool metal wall of the trailer before you realize your feet had even moved. Joel’s hips press into yours, pinning you against his body–solid and unrelenting. His lips trail down your jaw to your neck, the edge of his teeth scraping at your skin. The rasp of his stubble sends sparks to your core, and you dig your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. Pulling him toward you, needing him in a way that verges on painful. He lifts his mouth, breathing hotly against your damp neck. “This what you want?” he says, his tone matching the burning desperation coursing through you. “You want me to fuck it outta you? Til you can’t keep runnin’ your mouth at me?” “Shut up,” you snap, but the way your body arches into him betrays the hostility in your voice and the subtle stretch makes you keenly aware of how wet and needy you are already. He makes a low, guttural noise in his throat that makes your cunt throb. His hand slides down to grip your thigh, hitching it around his waist as he grinds into you. The hard ridge of his cock pressing into you makes you gasp. The sound you make sends heat ripping through him like wildfire. We can’t, he thinks, but the words die on his tongue. The thought of how wrong this is flashes in his mind, but it’s drowned out by the way you’re looking at him. The way your nails dig into his shoulders as you pull him closer, your breath hot and shaky against his cheek. He can’t think. He can’t stop. He doesn’t want to. Not when you’re so soft and warm and furious beneath him. He’s helpless. His hand slips under your shirt, rough fingers brushing over soft skin, leaving a searing trail that grounds you as your mind spins. He pushes your shirt up, baring you to the dim light of the trailer. Time slips back into the warped, syrupy dimension as you absorb the unbidden lust and awe in his eyes. You’re the one exposed, but you feel like you’re seeing something just as naked in his face. Time catches up and you pull your shirt the rest of the way over your head, committing to sin wordlessly. You shiver at the sudden contrast between the heat radiating off of his body and the cool air hitting your flesh. “Joel,” you gasp, your head tipping back as his mouth closes over your nipple like a wet furnace. His teeth graze the sensitive skin causing you to spew breathy curses over the top of his head. They only spur him on. He sucks hard enough that you tug him off you by his hair, but he only switches to your breast, delivering the same delicious punishment as his fingers roll and pinch at the wet, puffy, flesh he abandons. 

It’s like he can predict your needs before your mind can, biting down harshly enough to pull you away from the angry, hissing thoughts and keep you desperate to stay lost in the physical sensations. He palms the full weight of your tits, gliding his thumbs over both, slick and shining with his saliva. He presses them together before releasing them. “Goddamn,” he murmurs, taken by the way they bounce more perfectly than he could’ve imagined. It’s wrong to have you topless and panting beneath him, but his name falls so sweetly from your lips that it doesn’t matter. The heavy-lidded look you have makes him feel confirmed. When you moan lowly as the pain melts into pleasure when he kneads your soft, slippery skin, his cock aches and weeps for you. He needs more. He needs everything. Needs to wreck you, to see you so fucked out the only thing you can say is his name. 

It’s an exquisite brand of torture. 

You hate how good this feels, how badly you want him to keep going. To show you every move he knows. To break you down with his hands and mouth. You should push him away, tell him to fuck off. But your body doesn’t want that. You don’t want that. You roll your hips against his, begging wordlessly for more, as you tug at his hair hard enough to pull a throaty groan from deep within him. The sound he makes nearly has you short-circuiting, but he doesn’t give you the respite to fall apart. His hands are everywhere, frenzied like he’s losing control. Hasn’t he already lost it? You wonder distantly. Slowly, you realize he’s littering dirty little threats and filthy promises into your warm flesh. You hate the way his words make you shiver, how much you crave every pledge he makes. “You’re gonna feel me for days, sweetheart,” he husks hotly, just behind your ear. It’s a commitment you unwittingly pray he keeps. Some part buried deep within you blooms at the idea of feeling every memory of his touch as you go about your day tomorrow. “Get to it then,” you snap, hands reaching for his belt with urgency. Joel doesn’t need any more encouragement. His hand slips between your legs, teasing you through the soaked fabric of your underwear, and the sound you make at the pressure—the breathless, needy, whimper—makes him forget how to breathe. All he knows is that he needs to hear it again while he fucks into your soft, warm cunt. 

He wrenches your jeans open and works them down your thighs as you tear at his shirt buttons. He’s barely able to let you go long enough to pull his shirt off; watching you kick your pants off the rest of the way makes him nearly trip over himself. 

The air between your naked chests is sticky and warm. He dips his hand beneath the hem of your underwear, fingertips gliding over the soft hair on your mound making his eyes roll back. 

The edges of your vision blurs when he prods two big fingers between your slick lips, but you’re glued to the way his dark eyes are nearly black now. He looks every bit possessed by a beast, and fuck if you aren’t driven by the sick desire to make him snap. 

“You like having me touch you like this, don’t you?” His voice drips with need underscored by the slick sounds coming from between your legs. 

“No.” You rasp, as you grind your clit against his palm. He pumps two fingers inside of you, curling them just right to make you moan. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he drawls, thick like honey. You grip the muscle flexing in his arm to steady yourself. His concentration and competence makes your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“You’re gonna come for me, right here.” He declares. 

You shake your head. “I’m not—fuck—I won’t.” 

“You will,” he interrupts. Dark and calm. His pace quickens, fingers focused on the spot inside you that makes you a mindless wreck. His thumb draws circles around your clit. 

“Can feel how close you are.” Your hips rock and your muscles all pull taut. “If you’d quit fuckin’ fighting me.” He somehow crowds even closer to you. You feel like you’re about to snap when he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling empty and ragged. “But you’re too fuckin’ stubborn, ain’t you?” 

“Joel,” you whine, angry and devastated. “I hate you.” 

You grip the back of his neck with one hand, and both of you watch as he finally takes himself out of his jeans. 

The view makes you salivate. 

Everything about Joel is rugged and masculine. The muscles carved into his arms and chest. The trail of dark hair leading down his stomach that thickens around his base. The deep flushed color of his thick cock. The ragged inhale he makes when he presses the blunt tip against the drenched fabric that clings to your swollen folds. 

“Say it,” he growls, rubbing along your barely clothed seam. 

“I hate you,” you whisper unconvincingly, digging your nails into the back of his neck and arching off of the wall. 

“Tell me you want it.” You can’t tell if it’s a remain or a plea. This strain in his voice and the muscles tensing across his broad frame make you tremble.

“I don’t.” You lie. You snake one hand down your body, peeling your ruined panties to the side so he can slot his tip at your dripping entrance. You tilt forward, impatiently, stretching around him just enough to override your filter. 

“Oh, fuck,” you start. Unable to stop the stream of whispered curses from rolling off your tongue. 

“Yeah,” Joel rasps, inching deeper inside of your tight, warm walls. He feeds himself into you slowly, the overwhelming fullness as you adjust makes your thighs shake. He pulls out and you whine, unable to say a word before he’s moving, dipping you onto the thin trailer mattress and slipping your underwear down your legs. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” he mutters. You spread your legs, making room for him to settle above you. He draws his cock back through your lips, coating himself in your arousal before driving into you with a powerful stroke. 

Your lips part, sucking in air as he sets a pace. He fills you deeper than you’ve ever felt, relentlessly making room for himself as he saws in and out of you. It’s powerful and primal, but refined by his athleticism. Fluid rolling hips and his strong core make you see stars as he fucks into you.

“That’s right,” he rasps above you, and you realize he’s responding to you. 

“So good,” you’re murmuring, “so full.” 

“Taking it like you were made for it,” he says to himself. The intensity of your tight, warm pussy coaxing him deeper makes him spill his thoughts. Unfiltered. 

He sets a pace, slow and deliberate at first, each stroke filling you completely before pulling back, leaving you desperate for more. The friction is maddening, plunging his length into your sensitive walls as he pins you beneath his hard body.   

“You feel that?” His breath is hot against your neck. “Feel how deep I am? How I’m splittin’ you open?”  

You nod frantically, your nails digging into his shoulders as you whimper his name.  

Joel’s control falters at the sound of it, his hips snapping harder, faster, as his desperation takes over. “Thought about this,” he rasps, his voice hoarse. “Fuckin’ hell, I’ve thought about this too damn much. But you’re better than I ever imagined.”  

His confession sends a jolt through you, but you’re too far gone to process it, your body tightening around him as pleasure builds again, sharper and hotter than before.  

“Joel, please.”  

“Fuck,” he chokes the word out, his pace faltering for a split second before he slams into you harder, deeper. “Say that again.”  

“Please,” you whisper, your voice breaking as your release breaks through you, leaving you gasping and cursing.  

Joel’s hips snap erratically, pinning you into the mattress with a tight grip, as he buries his cock as deep as he can inside of you. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he mutters, his voice ragged. “Every drop, sweetheart.” Make you mine, he barely keeps the last thought in his head. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chant as your body jolts with each collision with his. 

“Fuck,” Joel mutters, cock driving deeper and swelling at your words. “That’s it. Take it all, sweetheart.”  

Your release hits again, your body trembling violently. Or maybe it never stopped—he only drew it out of you in waves. 

Joel curses low, his hips slamming into yours one last time before you feel him pulsing inside of you, hot and thick. 

When he pulls back, his eyes linger on the mess between your thighs. “Look at that,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent. His wide hands slide up the back of your thighs, bending your knees to your chest so he can watch the mix of your releases glistening and dripping from you. 

He takes one hand and drags it through the mess, pushing it back up inside of you. You squirm, sensitive to the touch, but fixated on whatever is burning behind his eyes. 

You wait for him to say something characteristically Joel. To dismiss you as naive, to rub it in that he broke you down. That he had you crying his name. That you shouldn’t have done that. 

But it never comes. You’re convinced he was trying to put you in your place. To give you another reminder that he thinks you’re useless and clueless. You’re too wrapped up in the thoughts to speak or move. He doesn’t say anything at all which nearly makes it worse. Instead, he pins you under a heavy arm, holding you against him until you both doze off. Succumbing to exhaustion.

-> PART TWO

dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🤠🤎

tagging the usual babes in case you want some cowboy!joel for christmas too:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

[cinnamorwll]

hii girlies, it’s cinnamorwll!! first of all i want to apologize for my disappearing act lately, i’ve been deep in my winter arc (my entire existence has basically revolved around making vision boards for everything i want to achieve next year), one of those goals? getting really active on this blog! so this is officially my attempt to turn this space into a cozy and cute little online journal where i can share some little diary entries, and honestly, i trust you girlbloggers as my most loyal and trustworthy sisters!! we can spill the tea and keep each other’s secrets here, period.

so welcome to Footsteps! (it’s a temporary name—i’m indecisive, sue me—but i picked it cos it’s about the small things in life that can still leave a considerable impact) feel free to hit me up in the comments and i’ll be there chatting with youuu, oh and just a heads-up: these posts aren’t usually going to be THIS long i just have a LOT to say for this first one… this episode is called “Cinnamorwll’s 2024 Dating Wrapped”—spoiler alert: nothing happened! literally, it was just silly crushes but dw i’ve got some funny stories to share so grab a snack and stay with me <33

let’s start with S, because i’m still processing what happened but let’s rewind to the beginning… so, i met S last year when i switched schools, and from the moment i saw him i was completely charmed, maybe it’s because he looks exactly like 2000s Milo Ventimiglia (yes, Jess Mariano himself), but also because he’s genuinely a nice person… he’s a grade above me so i mostly just saw him passing but every single interaction we had made me a nervous wreck, and let me tell you, girl, these interactions were PAINFULLY awkward, like, i wanted to bury myself alive after each one! and at first i was determined not to like him because he’s the walking embodiment of a high school movie cliché: one of the most popular boys in school, everyone knows him, and he’s kind of a big deal, but by the middle of the year, it was already too late; he had fully claimed the title of my ultimate corridor crush… i even wrote a few poems about him, they’d just come to me randomly but i never showed anyone, obviously (those are confined in a secret vault for all eternity), then, at the beginning of this year, i had THE dream! we were in some blurry, hazy dreamlike place (very tumblr core aesthetic omg), and we bumped into each other, like, full-on collision! he made a joke and then he walked away… when i woke up i was so devastated that it was just a dream but i immediately wrote the whole thing down as a song because… what else was i supposed to do?

“We almost kissed, you laughed a little bit, and it made me a little less nervous, you told me a joke…”

i won’t share the whole thing YET but that was basically the first verse, anyway, life went on, i kept seeing him here and there, and every interaction was awkward beyond belief but then the CRAZIEST thing happened… picture this: it’s the last day of school (december 3rd to be exact) and u know how everyone’s in that chaotic “literally-no-one-cares-anymore” vibe? i was standing with my friends by the classroom door and apparently he was standing right next to me but i didn’t notice him! so when i turned around, we didn’t just bump into each other, we CRASHED! like, our faces touched! it was so quick but i let out this tiniest little scream because it startled me, and he just laughed then he hit me with the one-liner that’s going to haunt me for the next seven years: “I know you like this kind of stuff, but it won’t be me.”

my friends obviously laughed and i just stood there wanting to dig a hole and hide FOREVER… but here’s the thing, did you notice? what happened to me is exactly what i wrote in that song, like… WHAT??? i don’t know if you believe in the law of attraction, manifestation, or anything like that, i do—kind of, but i’ve never gone super deep into it or done techniques intentionally, but LOOK AT MY LYRICS! is it possible i manifested that interaction? i mean i dreamed about it, wrote a silly little song, sang it to myself occasionally, and then it actually happened! we bumped into each other, we laughed, and he made a joke, it’s INSANE!!

and no, i’m not making this up, i even have the receipts in the group chat with my besties because we dissected this whole thing later… the good news is he’s a senior so he’s off to college next year, and i’ll (hopefully) never see him again, which is perfect because i know the second i see him again, i’ll be charmed all over, and i DO NOT want that, two years of crushing were torturous enough, thank you very much!

let’s move on to K, shall we? omg where do i even start? okay, so yesterday, he made the first move and texted me, naturally i thought it was a safe zone, so we started chatting and i had no idea what to say so i hit him with “oh you like tyler the creator? taste!” and he was like, “omg yeah blah blah blah,” and i was like, “omg i love him too blah blah blah” (i have never listened to tyler the creator in my life) anyway, turns out K is not just a fan; he’s a full-on tyler the creator Spinjitzu master (his words, not mine), he even listened to all the unreleased stuff, probably knows the man’s grocery list too! i was like, wow, this dude is dedicated! we were vibing, or so i thought… but then idk what happened, one minute he was saying “hey, stay, i still want to talk to you” and the next he’s GHOSTING ME??? … it’s been a whole day now so maybe i’m being dramatic (shocking, i know) but still… WHAT???

honestly, maybe this is my karma, i mean, i’ve ghosted people before but only because i’m a chronic over-thinker, like, i’ll convince myself i’m annoying them or tiring them, it’s something i’m working on, i swear!! social interactions (even online) just freak me out sometimes, but i do LOVE talking to my online besties, but sometimes i feel like i’m the worst at conversations… but i always come back to reply eventually, even if it’s just to apologize for taking forever… but K? oh, no, he straight-up disappeared… oh, wait—scratch that! i just remembered that he’s been posting stuff, so he definitely saw my message, maybe he’s just busy? idk we’ll see

to be fair, i was already cautious about him because he’s blonde, and let’s be honest, blonde boys are always trouble, but this one had glasses, so i thought he’d be different

finally, i’ve gotta give an honorable mention to C! and chat, he is so, so, SO cute!! we’re basically the same person, but in different fonts, you know? we have the same taste in music, the same tiktok reposts, the same interests… it’s kind of spooky! but i’m way too nervous to talk to him… we’ve had a few interactions, and i know for a fact that he’s really nice, but i’ll let you know if i ever actually talk to him… right now, i’m just hoping the universe will throw us together somehow, anyway, i really wish the best for him and everything, and maybe next year i’ll work up to the courage to at least be friends with him, fingers crossed!

final thoughts? i’m an emotional mess who ruminates over everything i can’t control, but hey, at least it gave me some solid content to write about… and next time i do this, i really hope i’ll have something more exciting to report, like “i have a boyfriend!” or whatever, but we’ll see what next year has in store for us

guess that’s it… this is probably gonna flop so bad but i’m posting it anyway because i need to get it off my chest (and definitely out of my notes app). i hope you liked it, i didn’t! oh and i almost forgot, happy belated christmas!! i hope you all had an amazing time!! i love each and every one of you sooooo much <33

(footstep: stalking his following list won’t do you any good btw 😭)

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 8

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Hi lovelies! Plz don’t forget to like & rb. It means the world to me! :)

Remy’s POV

“Look at you. You don’t even respect your fucking self, man.” Billie mumbled, barely making any sense. Her eyes looked angry, bothered, annoyed. It wasn’t her.

“Let’s go home, you’re drunk as fuck. You don’t mean that.”

She swayed to the bass in place, slightly nodding her head to the beat. I didn’t even notice how much time had passed, standing there awkwardly to the side of the dance floor. Finneas came up to us. He had probably seen her yank her arm away and wondered what was going on.

“Let’s head out. She’s had too much.” I pointed towards the exit.

He took one look at her and nodded, calling the car out to the front.

“No! Fuck it, I do mean it. You’re too fucking scared to take a risk, so you keep sitting in your fucking office hoping one day you’ll do more than shred paper.”

That stung. I ignored her as Finneas and Claudia began to walk her outside. I wasn’t much of a help since I was struggling on my feet too.

“When I get back, you’ll be right where I left you. You’re not gonna go anywhere working for a fucking pig like him.”

“Is that what you think, Billie? What else?” I knew it wasn’t a good idea to argue back, but I didn’t care what state of mind she was in. I couldn’t believe she was saying any of this to me.

“Let’s just get in the car, Rem. She’s too fucked up, she doesn’t know what-“ Claudia shook her head.

“No! I’m not! And I’d like to- I want you to know I’m so serious. You let everyone treat you like shit! Your fucking ex, your boss, your parents!” She pointed.

“Shut up, Billie! Stop talking!” I put her seatbelt on her, struggling to put the buckle in the hole the first few times as Finneas drove off.

“Who took care of you when that motherfucker left you for another bitch?! Who lived with you and held you all day and night, and fed you, and made you whole again?” She shouted, scrambling her words, closing her eyes for emphasis.

“You want to throw that in my face now?” I was pissed. How dare she bring that up. There was no need to be that petty. I didn’t understand what brought this on her. She had never said anything so mean before. I knew it was the alcohol talking, but this hurt deep.

“And now! You’re just gonna leave me!” She pointed her finger.

“Leave you? Like you said, I’m not going anywhere! You’re the one leaving me!”

“She doesn’t mean any of this Rem, just ignore her.” Finneas reassured me, trying to deescalate the situation.

“No, say how you really feel, Billie!” I looked at her, squinting.

“You don’t believe in your fucking self! You beg me to believe in you, when you won’t even give yourself a fucking chance!” Her eyes closed as she tried to be louder.

“Oh, is that why you boss me around and tell me what to do with my life? Because you think I could do so much better being your fucking groupie?” I snapped back.

“You might as well be my fucking groupie! Better than being assistant TO the groupie!”

“You wish! So I could clap for you and gas you up every night? Like everyone else does?” I shouted back.

“Well, it’d be nice to have you be there for me once in a while, instead of putting work first like you always do!” Billie crossed her arms.

“You KNOW I can’t just do that!”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. You just wanna stay there and be a martyr so you can have something to complain about!”

“OH! So now I bitch about everything! I thought I kept things to myself and didn’t accept people’s help? Which one is it, Billie?”

“Whatever dude, you wanna be a sexy little office receptionist, and bend over for some bald fuck, and write some bullshit on a magazine, when you know you want to do more with your life.” She waved her hand around, her eyeliner running a little on the corner of her eyes.

“No, that’s your girlfriend Rachel! Weren’t you the one trying to suck her dick so she’d let me hop on a damn column?”

“I was trying to help you, dumbass!”

“I was trying to hang out with my best fucking friend before she travels the world for, like, a year!”

“Right! That’s why you wanted to get fucking wasted tonight! So you wouldn’t even remember our last night together.” Billie got teary eyed, blinking away her anger. “I didn’t even want to drink tonight!”

“No one forced you! You got all weird when that guy talked to me, and you shoved 2 shots consecutively up your ass!”

Claudia looked at Finneas. They shared a look and I wondered what that was about. He turned the corner toward my apartment and turned on his hazard lights.

“No one is concerned with who you wanna make out with, Remy!” She mumbled.

“Except you, because you act like my damn mother anytime anyone even looks at me!” I pointed at her. She stared at my finger, looking nauseous.

“Maybe if you had better judgment I wouldn’t have to fucking-“

“Whatever bro! You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life! And when you get back, you’ll see how fucking wrong you are! And how shitty of a fucking friend-“

“Shitty friend?? Because I want better for you?!” She leaned forward.

“You wouldn’t even know what being wrong feels like! Everyone always tells Billie Eilish yes!” I said, immediately feeling terrible. Immediately feeling like I crossed a line. But she had crossed multiple already.

Her face turned a shade of hurt I hadn’t seen before.

“No, fuck that! Fuck you, Remy!” She yelled.

“Fuck you, too!” I open the door and slam it, walking out before the car was even in park. Finneas fully stopped the car and ran out. He walked me to the door as I keyed in the code.

“I wanna make sure you get inside safely.” He held the door open for me when it unlocked. “God, I’m sorry, that was a lot.”

I held back tears and rubbed my arms, feeling the midnight breeze give me goosebumps before quickly walking in.

“She’s definitely not in the right mindset and I really don’t think she meant to be that-“

“Honest?” I asked, tears starting to stream down my face. “I think she did.” I called the elevator, pressing the button 18 times.

“Remy, she loves you. More than you think. You’re everything to- She just-“

“It doesn’t matter, Finneas. That fucking hurt. Drunk or not.“ I stepped into the elevator as the door slid open.

“Please, Rem. Listen, I know she was pushing it. I’m not gonna make excuses-“ He was visibly frustrated, pushing his hair back as he spoke. “And trust me, she’s going to feel like such a dick tomorrow-“

“I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it anymore from-“

The elevator door began to slide, when he stuck his hand in the way to stop it from closing. “Promise me you’ll see her tomorrow before she leaves for tour.” He looked serious, as if it would change anything. As if seeing her tomorrow would make it hurt any less.

I didn’t say anything. I just leaned back on the elevator wall, crossing my arms.

“Please. Think about it… I’m sorry, Remy. Have a good night.” He nodded, removing his hand and letting the door shut. My heart dropped as the elevator rose to the 5th floor.

In my apartment, I got ready for bed and threw myself into the pillows. My head spun and throbbed as the effects of alcohol slowly left my body. I knew everything would hurt tomorrow morning. I stared at my ceiling, hoping to fall asleep. I thought about Billie’s face when she said those things. When she told me I’d stay exactly where she left me. How can I give up all the hard work I’ve put in. I wonder if she was ever proud of me. I wonder if she knows how much I care about what she thinks of me. I thought about her face when I practically told her she doesn’t know what no means. I thought about her face when she told me “fuck you”. I wonder if tomorrow she’ll be hurting about all this as much as I am right now. We’d never spoken to each other like this before. It felt like she wanted to say more than she actually did…

Eventually my eyelids became heavy, and I drifted into a deep, deep sleep.

******

My eyelids slowly blinked open, staring at my wall. I groaned, stretching and turning on my other side. The light from my window was so uncalled for, causing me to squint and curl up into a ball. My head pounded, reminding me of the events last night.

“Oh shit.” I gasped, grabbing my phone faster than my brain could register. It was 1:02pm and a missed call from Billie displayed on my screen. I put my passcode in, messing up twice before finally being able to call back. The phone rang for a while. I sat up in bed, impatiently. No answer. I had overslept and didn’t have a chance to say good bye before she left on the tour bus. She was probably so angry at me. I remembered how much she hurt me last night, the words all freshly dancing around in my mind. I didn’t know what to make of it, but clearly she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I figured if she did, she’d call back.

I threw my phone at the foot of the bed and pulled the covers over my head, wishing away the awful headache. I closed my eyes and tried my best to fall back asleep so I didn’t have to think. Obviously, that didn’t work out. My brain wanted to walk me through the least blurry bits of our fight instead.

I threw the covers off and got up, going straight for the medicine cabinet and taking some Advil, dry. I rotted into the couch for the rest of the day, watching the tv show I wasn’t allowed to watch without her. I don’t know if I did it out of spite or to feel close to her. I’m sure she’ll be watching it without me anyway.

Each time I checked my phone for any calls or texts, my stomach did this weird flip thing. I waited all day to receive anything from her to no avail.

Around 8pm, I realize I haven’t had a bite to eat. As I put some almond butter toast on a plate, my phone dinged. I pulled it out of my pocket to see Billie had posted on instagram. An update to her fans letting them know she was on the road, and excited to see them in Quebec, Canada.

I made it a point to like the insta story post, so she knows that I know she’s ignoring me. This is bullshit, I thought. How petty, I thought, the irony going straight over my head.

[summertimesadnessirl]

I have so many soles I will never run out bb.

The one thing I will never run out of again as long as I live and it's shoes.

Once, a very long time ago, I burst into tears because I was walking to work every day in a pair of shoes that had holes in them in the office of my useless fucking vocational rehabilitation counselor.

I hadn't been employed in over 99 weeks. I finally finally found a shitty job and they laid me off for what I now know was a made up reason.

Fuck that guy and fuck his idiot son.

But that's not really relevant.

I went to the experts and all they could offer me was nothing til after I burst into fucking tears about walking all the way there to fucking get told they couldn't do anything other than fill out applications for me when I was already filling out applications and going to interviews and they had confirmed my interview skills were fine and my resume was fine and my shoes had holes in them and whenever I went to buy shoes back then they never fit right because I'm a slightly weird size and shoes that don't fit just right and slip on my feet make me trip or hurt and I was walking miles and miles a day every day back then.

Don't get a new soul, darling. Just wear new shoes.

Good shoes are important. They will take you to good places.

I saw that in a k drama once.

Me, I have enough shoes now to last me til the end of the world.

None of them will take me anywhere I haven't already been so many times I know that somehow no matter what I change about myself or what I wear or who I meet when I get there the outcome will always be some cautionary tale they tell to girls like you about why they ought to behave so they don't end up in dire straights.

But if you need a new something and you don't know what, put on a new pair of shoes and walk outside and just keep walking until you see something beautiful.

Then stop. Examine it closely.

This has worked for me lots of times.

I hope it works for you.

[pricegouge]

Hmmm so is the pricenik daughter swap like, “I can’t have her but you’re the only one I trust with her and it’s the closest I can get to having her myself,” or is it just a downright filthy, “she’s mine but you can enjoy her tonight?”

The most fleshed out prompt I got was more like the latter, but I'm a huge fan of the former.

Like. They're Good Men. They know what they want is wrong, they're not stupid. But it is wrong, and they don't know what to do about it, especially not when their sweet girls seem so amenable :(

But they've shared women before, have never been stingy with the details. And really they're not actually hurting anyone if they get into some locker room talk, are they? Or if they each manage to film their "excursion" for the other?

And if their girls just happen to like each other, beg to get fucked while they can hold hands and kiss and check in on each other, well.

They've never the types to deny their girls anything.

[burlesqueabsurdist]

Supposedly Trench coat mafia “member” AMA on reddit

Suspected to possibly Eric Dutro 

Eric Dutro yearbook photo 1997

I can not confirm or deny if it is Eric Dutro, nor do I feel the need to.

I can also not confirm if it's authentic.

Q=QUESTIONER

A=ANSWER (FROM OP)

(Number)= A number of the questioner to identify differences in who's asking.

_________________________________________

“I am a former member of the Trench Coat Mafia. Ask me Anything.”

Q(1):

How strange is it getting older? Does high school even feel like it really happened?

A:

It’s really weird. I doubt I’ve peaked as a person yet but it still kinda feels like my glory days are behind me.

It feels normal whenever I think about normal stuff, but whenever i remember that I’m part of a lore surrounding one of the most infamous schools in America, I kinda start to dissociate.

Q(2):

Do you know about or follow r/columbine ?

A:

I’m subscribed to the sub on my main account, and I follow it, but I never comment on anything because

1. I don’t want people to dig up info on my from my personal account and

2. I doubt anyone would believe me without me doing a whole lot of explaining, which I’m doing here. I cross posted this post there and it should be approved by the mods soon, so who knows? Maybe I’ll start to be able to inform people better.

Q(2):

I had crossposted this post to that sub a few minutes ago and it’s showing up, but would be nicer to see it posted from you. If yours shows up I will delete my cross-post’

A:

Thanks.

Q(3):

Did you really call yourselves the trench coat mafia? Were you there on the day of the shooting? What happened from your perspective if you were? What were Dylan and Eric like?

A:

According to our “mythos” some guy older than us wore a trench coat to school one day and a few people started copying him. One day some kid sarcastically asked them if they were a “Trench Coat Mafia” and the name stuck. So yes, to answer that question.

Nope. Skipping class to smoke weed and watch TV like a bunch of kids were doing that day.

This is the big one. Dylan was a real intimidating looking guy on the outside, but didn’t seem that threatening if you actually talked to him. The guy radiated intelligence and I believed for some time that he was some kind of savant due to his problem solving ability. He would literally be one of the last people I expected to go postal like that. Eric, on the other hand, was just a standard guy. Real talkative and charismatic. Lots of girls liked him even though he wasn’t anywhere near the top of the social hierarchy and I’m sure he was aware of it. I remember another guy in TCM telling me that brooks brown had reported him to the police because he threatened to kill his entire family or something but I didn’t believe it because brooks sort of had a reputation as a compulsive liar. After the shooting though, I realized there were probably signs of narcissism or a god complex that I just didn’t pick up.

Q(3):

Thanks for answering. This is fascinating to me, I got very involved in this case a few years back. Did you ever know the shooters family or home life? I’m mostly interested in Eric, as his parents did not speak out or anything after the incident. Did any of your friends get injured in the shooting

   You’re welcome.

Never met the Harris’s or Dylan’s dad but I did meet Dylan’s mom a couple of times. I would seriously consider her one of the nicest ladies I ever met. I still feel terrible for her getting blamed for the shooting because it truly wasn’t her fault Dylan turned out the way he did.

I had a few acquaintances get hurt, no real friends, although I assume due to how closely knit our friend group was they would’ve been aiming for them.

Q(4):

 How was the situation with weed at Columbine? Did only certain groups smoked or did everyone and how easy was it to get?

A:

Weed was very easy to get, lots of people would literally sell inside the school (myself included). As for how many people were smoking weed regularly, I wanna say maybe 20% of the entire student population during the time I went to school there.

Q(4):

Thank you for taking the time to anwser, i had a few more questions regarding this topic if you would like to anwser them. Do you still smoke weed? What was the usual place where everyone would smoke? Did most people just smoked joints or bongs? And what did the other students think of the people who smoked weed?

Thanks in advance

A:

Yes

Wherever we could but usually a house (preferably without parents

Joints were easier to conceal but bongs still popped up from time to time.

The stoners were pretty much ignored by everyone else. I do remember when we got into a fight with the jocks once they teamed up with us and we whipped them. But otherwise, it was a pretty standard clique.

Q(4):

Thanks for the reply ! One more question about the group photo of the trenchcoat mafia, why are Dylan and Eric not on the picture?

A:

 They weren’t official “members” but they still hung out with us.

Q(2):

Do you still stay in touch with Sue K?

A:

I’ve seen her in passing once, but I just nodded to her. If I see her again I might strike up a conversation.

Q(5):

Are you still known as the "Kid that used to be part of the same group as the Columbine shooters" there in Littleton?

A:

Yes, but people hardly ever talk about it.

Q(6):

Do you think Chris Morris or anyone else knew it was gonna happen? He always seemed particularly suspicious to me. I assume that E&D asked him to participate and he said no and didn't believe they actually would do it. It would be crazy to me if nobody was told of the plans beforehand in a manner like that

A:

Fuck yes. Chris and some of the other guys were acting all weird starting in February, and a person who shall remain unnamed tried to get me to make pipe bombs under the pretense that they were going to "Blow stumps out of the ground". I refused, obviously.

I maintain to this day that some members of the TCM helped them plan the shooting and gather materials based on their behavior over those last couple months and how they were talking about some "event". If they were actually in the school? I don't know. I'm open to this theory based on what i know, and if anyone wants to give me some info or theories or whatever i might be able to link some stuff together. I know Pat Mcduffee tried telling me about how there were more people involved but i didn't really listen to him because i was still grieving Eric and Dylan.

Edit: I just remembered that Chris's mom was a cop. Really makes you think.

Q(7):

Do you believe the “Basement Tapes” were really destroyed? or know anything about the basement tapes?

A:

Honestly, I think Jeffco is just saying they were destroyed to get everyone off their back. I have no idea why they won’t release them, as the “copycat” excuse is complete bullshit because they made no effort to censor Eric’s webpages that literally had working instructions to build pipe bombs in them.

I hope someone is able to leak them or has a copy laying around somewhere, because they need to be released. I never saw them, but I repeatedly asked to and was denied several times.

Q(8):

Do you still live in the area?

A:

Around there, yes.

Q(9):

Did you all did activities like practicing with guns, or only some of you ?

I already met young and older people who dresses in black, but just hang out, without messing with others.

Black Trench coats where a trend in the 80's and 90's.

Did you regularly dress in black, or just wear the coats as school ?

Black clothing and trench coats still are stigmatized these days.

Note: I do care about the victims, not just the fashion stuff.

A:

Only some of us would. There were lots of members that couldn’t handle any violence. The go to location was a place over in Douglas county on a mountain, which is where Eric and Dylan filmed the “rampart range” video. I can actually point out a tree I shot with a sawn off in the first 30 seconds. Also, I assume they both got the pipe bomb idea from us, considering we would make those and ignite them out in the mountains and Chris was the first one to tell them that.

Regularly. Some of us didn’t actually wear all black along with our trench coats. I remember one guy would sometimes wear a tie-dye shirt under it. I doubt it was really about the color and more of just the way we wanted to be seen. I could’ve probably worn a brown one and been accepted.

Q(10):

what do you think about the “condoners” of the shooting?

edit: if i was unclear, i mean like the tumblr fangirls and edgy potential school shooters

A:

I can understand it, as it probably comes from a place of thinking they could fix them or prevent them from doing what they did. However, I doubt that if they were actually there at columbine as high school students they would’ve of even cared about them. Where I draw the line, though, is when you start to believe they were innocent or what they did was a good thing. It’s fine to be interested and research something, but it’s not okay to glorify or condone something like that.

Q(11):

 DELETED COMMENT

A:

Yes. Bullying culture at columbine was fucking awful and it had to have played a part in the shooting. Jocks once tossed a cup of horse shit on them and threw tampons soaked in ketchup at them. Brooks brown got hit in the head with a baseball bat by some jocks in a truck. They would literally try to set people clothes on fire.

And the big thing was, the school administration wouldn’t do shit about. I’m sorry, but at that time, CHS staff wouldn’t do shit if you were being bullied unless parents involved and made a scene. There was a case of a jock stalking some girl and her having to get a restraining order, and the school still tried to get him a football scholarship. I apologize for getting angry, but it still enrages me to this day the amount of bullshit that the kids the teachers liked got away with.

Q(12):

I got to watch Frank Deangelis speak at a conference several months ago. He's a very compelling speaker. What's your opinion of him, especially given the culture at Columbine at the time of the shooting?

Thanks for doing this!! I'm a school shooting witness/survivor and know just how hard it can be to speak up about.

A:

He’s obviously a changed man since the years before the shooting, and having 12 kids and a teacher die in the school you’re responsible for will do that.

I respect him for making that vow to stay as the principal all these years but It doesn’t take away from his inaction towards bullying beforehand.

Q(13):

Was bullying really bad at Columbine? Did you ever see Eric or Dylan get bullied? Did you ever see them bully anyone?

Did you know any of the victims or anyone who was injured?

Do you remember anything specific about them? Not in general, I mean like a time you hung out with them, a conversation you had with them, etc? Anything that really sticks out after the massacre?

What was Eric and Dylan’s friendship like? Did either seem to be influenced by or copy the other?

A:

Already answered that somewhere else.

Already answered. A couple of acquaintances.

Eric actually told a bunch of people his plans to bomb the school but I didn’t take it seriously. I might elaborate in an extra comment because I’m not in a really comfortable position to be making super long comments right now. As for Dylan, a couple of months before the massacre, I remember he asked me what i thought happened after we died while listening to Siamese Dream in his car. I replied that I assumed we just found some sort of peace and got to hang out with a bunch of other dead people and just chill. He told me that he hopes that it’s some kind of beautiful trip across the universe that you get to take with the people you love.

They just seemed like best friends. I thought it was kinda weird that they had so many differences yet were so close with each other, but I guess they hand their plans for a rampage tying them together.

Q(14):

At the time, did you expect Eric and Dylan to amass such a huge following like they have today?

What were you thinking when Sol Pais flew up to the Denver area and bought a shotgun a few days before the 20th anniversary, causing schools across the area to shut down?

A:

No. Didn’t even think they would be household names.

I felt bad for her. No one in the right state of mind buys a shotgun and threatens to shoot up a school for no reason.

Q(15):

Are you still friends with the other Trench Coat Mafia members ? What music did you guys listen to?

A:

The whole group dissolved after the shooting and I heavily distanced myself after I started to believe that they knew more about the massacre than they were letting on. I still know a handful of guys who were associates but a huge chunk of the actual TCM just fell off the map after 4/20.

There wasn’t a standard musical genre for the group. Vaguely, most of the members like industrial music and nu metal. Dylan liked NIN, and the chemical brothers. Eric like Rammstein and KMFDM. Eric liked some NIN songs but didn’t find them enthralling enough for him. Dylan was more open to different musical genres and I let him borrow one of my Slowdive CD’s once. I can go more in depth in music if you want me to

Q(15):

What do you mean exactly when you say " I started to believe that they knew more about the massacre than they were letting on." ?

I read about them listening to all those bands, except for Slowdive, interesting ! I thought they only liked industrial music.

Thanks for taking the time to answer x

A:

  When I get home I’ll make an in depth answer but let’s just say some very fishy shit was going  on with the TCM and it’s affiliates in the months leading up to the shooting.

Q(16):

Do you have any clue if they were into Aphex Twin?

A:

Funnily enough, i tried to turn Eric on to more electronic music by giving him selected ambient works and music has the right to children by boards of canada but he said it was too boring.

Q(17):

I can see how he wouldn't be the type to like these things. But I always thought he would be someone who would like "Come to Daddy".

Q(18):

When did you first find out it was those two doing the shooting and what was your initial reaction?

A:

Basically, i got called by one of my friends who told me to turn on the fucking news because "some shit just went down". I switched it on, and lo and behold, reporters everywhere, cops, and people running out of the school, and a reporter said there was a shooting at columbine. i initially believed that Eric could've been involved, but i seriously didn't expect to see Dylan's yearbook photo show up when they started to talk about suspects. As for my reaction, well, let's just say it wasn't pleasant. I woke my mom up after i screamed out "FUCK!" and dropped my glass of apple juice.

Q(19):

Thank you for the AMA. It is nice to hear your level headed analysis.

Have you seen the movie Elephant by Gus Van Sant? Do you think it's an accurate portrayal?

Also, why do you think the boys ended up in the library? Didn't they want to kill jocks?

A:

Elephant was good but you need to keep in mind that it strays heavily from the actual events leading up to shooting and the shooting itself.

Absolutely no idea. That question still bugs me to this day.

Q(20):

DELETED COMMENT

A:

Yes.

If I thought they were serious, at that time in my life the idea would have been slightly appealing but I probably wouldn’t have aided them.

Q(21):

  Obviously the Trench Coat Mafia wasn't the scary thing people said it was but how did you guys feel about it being portrayed as this marauding gang that was full of goth kids. How true/untrue was that and how did you and other members feel getting raked over the coals in the media shortly after the shooting?

What kind of music (specific bands if possible) did you like in High School? I always thought it was crazy that Brooks Brown was a Juggalo back then.

How are you holding up now? Obviously you have no real reason to feel remorse or guilt in any way but it feels like every year we have another shooting where the shooter idolized Eric & Dylan, is it weird that so many people idolize two of your old friends and they became folk anti-heroes in a way?

(If no other question you'd wanna answer please answer this one) If you could go back to a point in time before that day with Eric and/or Dylan, what would you say to them?

A:

It didn't really matter because as soon as the media said that Eric and Dylan were members of TCM the whole group just fell apart. Some people were angry, some people were sad, some people just stayed silent. I personally felt mad, not because they were slandering us, but because they basically put a target on our heads. A guy i knew got picked up by cops for wearing a trench coat. Jocks were talking about revenge, and nobody could wear black for two weeks after 4/20 for fear of being attacked.

NIN, Korn, Aphex twin, Tool, Deftones, KMFDM, Smashing Pumpkins, Slowdive, My Bloody Valentine, Alice in Chains, Boards of Canada, Radiohead, Marilyn Manson, Pigface, SPK, Throbbing Gristle. Lots of stuff.

As good as one can after all I've been through.

As Marilyn Manson said, I wouldn't of said anything. I'd of listened. Because maybe if we all listened things wouldn't of turned out the way they did.

Q(22):

How did you sleep the night after the shooting?

A:

I didn't sleep for two days after finding out it was Eric and Dylan. Eventually i stole some ambien from my parent's medicine cabinet, but i wouldn't say that i felt well rested after waking back up.

Q(22):

Very understandable. I wouldn't have been able to sleep either. Wish you best of luck.

Q(23):

Thank you for doing this. Could answer some questions people have:

Do you recall anything that could have given you a hint or anything that could have tipped someone off?

How are you doing now? Hope all is well.

A:

As I’ve said before, Eric wasn’t very fucking inconspicuous about wanting to do some shit. He told pretty much everyone who knew him that he was planning to do something to CHS, but as far as I know, everyone played it off because they thought he was joking and because it was a different time period where stuff like that wasn’t taken as seriously. In this day and time kids can make “don’t come to school tomorrow” jokes and get fucking arrested.

Q(23):

Thanks for responding.

Q(24):

Did being part of TCM have any sort of impact on your life as you grew up due to the affiliation? Also how’ve you been doing? I can’t imagine it was easy growing up knowing what people you knew did.

A:

Yes. If employers search up my name (not giving that shit out) they find a TCM group picture from the yearbook. I can't work serious jobs and several of my friends have no idea of my background or how i was friends with two of the most infamous human beings alive. It's a pretty heavy burden to bear, but i manage.

Q(24):

Yes. If employers search up my name (not giving that shit out) they find a TCM group picture from the yearbook. I can't work serious jobs and several of my friends have no idea of my background or how i was friends with two of the most infamous human beings alive. It's a pretty heavy burden to bear, but i manage

Q (15):

I guess you know that already but you have the legal rights to get search results linked to your name (that you think threaten your privacy) deleted from the Internet.

A:

Are you serious? I’ll definitely look into that if it’s true.

Q(15):

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Right_to_be_forgotten

Removing the TCM photo and its caption will be tricky of course but you shouldn't let your full name appear anywhere linked to the massacre if it gets in the way of you getting a job.

A:

Thank you! I had no idea about this. I might have to head over to r/legaladvice soon.

Q(25):

  DELETED COMMENT

A:

Disappointment and sadness towards the shooter and the victims, anger towards the media and pharmaceutical companies.

Q(26):

how much different do you think your life would be if it never happened? how did the school/community cope afterwards? did you personally know any of the victims?

A:

 I might have a decent job, and I wouldn’t have as much weight on my shoulders.

We didn’t have school for weeks afterward, I just stopped going for the rest of the year, and according to friends when school went back in the only thing people did was just talk and vent to each other. I guess that’s how everyone recovers. Just talk and vent.

Some of my acquaintances were injured, and few people i knew in passing were killed.

Q(27):

How would you feel about some sort of columbine movie? Obviously it would be made with respect and include accurate info about the shooting, victims, and the perpetrators.

A:

It would be nice. Might draw more awareness to mental health and hopefully provide an unbiased picture of both Eric and Dylan’s behavior before and during the massacre.

Also, Trent Reznor should do the soundtrack but I doubt he would due to the shit he got from the media after the shooting.

Q(15):

Were you friends with Eric Veik ?

A:

Yes. Not much I can say except he was pretty smart and people started saying he helped plan it afterwards. I don’t believe it based on how much the shooting fucked him up.

Q(28)(referring to question above):

Or if not, what do you think about that guy?!

A:

I feel bad for him.

Q(29):

DELETED COMMENT

A:

Yes. It’s good, but she needs to understand that dylan wasn’t as innocent as she thinks.

Q(30):

I was wondering if you had any close friendships/relationships with any of the kids that were killed?

A:

No close relationships although some people I would consider acquaintances were hurt.

Q(31):

i’m curious about Eric and Dylan’s behavior around animals. Had you ever witnessed either of them interact with animals? Did you have a sense of the type of relationship, if any, they had with their family pets? Are you aware of either of them exhibiting any negative behaviors directed toward animals, including wildlife?

A:

I actually have a story for this one.

We had been detonating pipe bombs out in the mountains, and I came up with the idea to tape one of the bombs to a tree to test the damage. We did that, and when it detonated it blew a chunk out of the tree and knocked out some baby birds. We all believed that if we touched them, their mom would abandon them, so we decide just to put them out of their misery. I stomped some, Eric stomped some, and Dylan stomped some.

Eric stomped them quickly and seemed very nonchalant about it. Dylan, however, said that he was just putting them out of their misery, and said he felt better for some reason after stomping them.

I believe that was the defining moment in my friendship with them, and foreshadowed their actions at columbine. Eric was silent, and was almost machinelike in the way he stomped them. Dylan actually vocalized to the birds by saying “this is only going to hurt for a little bit” before stomping them. It chills me to my very core that I saw a part of the people they would later become out there in the mountains.

Q(32):

Were Eric and Dylan good bowlers?

A:

Pretty standard as far as my knowledge of bowling goes.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

LINK TO THE AMA: https://www.reddit.com/r/casualiama/comments/fom8or/i_am_a_former_member_of_the_trench_coat_mafia_ask/

(THIS IS NOT EVERYTHING ON THE AMA, BESIDES COMMENTS LIKE  “answered this already” AND OR UNIMPORTANT UNANSWERED QUESTIONS)

Be respectful

xx