i know this isn’t my usual post, but it really does make me so sad to see all of the young women who are struggling with/promoting eds on this platform.
no, my love, you’re not fat. you aren’t any less of a person just because you have big thighs, or a stomach, or an appetite. your body shouldn’t only be for showing off, it should be your vessel of life. feed your vessel!! food should be pleasurable and nourishing. if you don’t see it like that, then you were failed and i’m so sorry. go eat that strawberry shortcake!
like wowwww you’re soo lanacore because you weigh less than 100lbs!! that’s sooo chic, mamas. no, it’s not! it’s scary and you don’t even realize it.
also, to the people who are genuinely promoting eds, fuck you. that’s all i have to say. “thinspo”? what is wrong with you? you’re setting an unhealthy and dangerous standard for girls to compare themselves to. do you want to be the motivation for a young girl’s death just because she thought being thin was the answer? being skinny isn’t going to solve your problems, you aren’t going to feel any better about yourself. you’re just going to end up regretting it. don’t romanticize what could kill you.
if you got upset about this, then you’re exactly who i’m talking to.
hiii, so in honor of the last day of pride i thought i'd write something for the woman who DESPERATELY needed a girlfriend. a girlfriend would've saved tashi and i'll stand on that till the day i die. :) happy pride!!
summary: when you inevitably catch feelings for the amazing tashi duncan, you don't expect anything to come out of it. when something surprisingly does come out of it, how could you say no?
warnings: swearing, TENSIONNNN, lesbian tension (that in itself needs a warning cuz good lord), a man who's secretly in love with his best friend, cheating, brief nudity, slight smut tbh, desiring big time
word count: 3.5k 😛
Stanford, 2007
You met Tashi during Orientation, her charming attitude practically forcing you to gravitate towards her. By the end of it, she had her arm wrapped around your shoulders and laughed with her face nuzzled in your neck.
Sleepovers in your dorms became a necessity after that. Whether it be study dates, watching movies — or tennis matches — on either of your laptops, it was always the first thing that you asked each other at the end of each week.
Tashi’s flirty personality worked on you relentlessly. It didn't surprise you when you slowly developed a crush on her. Her drive for tennis and the way she was so devoted to something she’d worked so hard for just drew you in more. It was almost sensual with how she talked about the sport. She’d made you play countless times, teaching you the correct techniques and how to hold the racket. Standing behind you with her chest to your back was something she did a lot when adjusting your grip.
You’d even noticed the way her eyes trailed over your legs when you wore tiny little tennis skirts. Strange.
As the months went on, you two became inseparable. You had a couple classes together and immediately sprinted toward the other once one of you were spotted. Among the sea of unknown people, it was nice to have someone to hold onto while meeting new individuals. Someone reliable.
That person for Tashi, was you.
—
Tashi had ended up telling you about a guy she started seeing while her head claimed a spot on your lap. Patrick was his name, maybe? You couldn't quite remember, despite all the talk about his dick size that came from Tashi’s mouth. In your opinion, he sounded arrogant. He sounded like somebody that Tashi didn't need. She reassured you they weren't in love, but you still thought she deserved somebody better even if they weren't.
The first time you met him face to face, he was on top of her with his drawers half way down his legs. Which resulted in you getting a face full of ass when you walked into Tashi’s dorm. You were only there to give back her copy of Twilight she’d let you borrow, but of course that didn't go to plan. Patrick whipped his head back, his back hunched as he leaned over your friend with blushed lips.
“Shit-” Patrick muttered, sliding his boxers back up to cover himself. Tashi just laughed, slipping out from under him and walking over to you. You were covering your eyes from the events in front of you for obvious reasons, when Tashi held your wrist and moved it from your eyes.
“What do you need, baby?” she asked with a cheeky smile on her face.
She had a sports bra on, her hair still slicked back into her signature braid. She must've just come from practice.
You looked back at Patrick, who was now awkwardly sitting on Tashi's bed, twiddling his thumbs. Now that you got a good look at him, you couldn't blame Tashi for keeping him around. He was kind of hot.
You nudged the book into her hands. “I just wanted to give you this,” you spoke quietly. Tashi’s eyebrows rose a smidge upon seeing the book.
“You brought it back.”
“Why wouldn't I?”
She shrugged.
“I thought you'd forget it. You have a tendency to do that sometimes.”
“Oh shut up, Miss Perfect.”
She just huffed out a laugh and let go of your wrist, now grazing her hand along your forearm. “Well, thank you. Text you later?”
“Yeah, have fun getting your pipes cleaned.” You deadpanned with a little laugh, Tashi joining in on your laughter as she leaned her forehead to your shoulder. Patrick let out a small chuckle himself, and Tashi turned her head to look at him with a furrowed brow.
—
The first time you properly met Patrick and his blond friend, Art, was after one of Tashi’s matches. You had been sitting on the bleachers, sitting in the front so Tashi could see you, when two guys had sat next to you. You didn't pay much attention to them until the one next to you nudged your arm.
It was Patrick.
He had a smile on his face that tugged at one side more than the other, looking down at you with a laugh. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” You replied, a small smile grazing your lips.
Patrick scoffed, “Oh c’mon, don't get all shy now. You've literally seen my bare ass.”
The blond perked up at Patrick’s words, raising an eyebrow and looking slightly disgusted between the two of you.
“It was unconsensual.” You sneered, leaning forward slightly to see Patrick’s friend better.
His friend smacked Patrick’s chest, “The hell, man?” he asked before turning to you and putting his hand out.
“Art.”
You took his hand in yours and replied with your own name, smiling at him. A sweeter one than you’d given Patrick. He returned the smile and you both took your hands back, leaning against the wooden bleachers.
Art was also cute, not hot, but undoubtedly handsome. He looked a little mousy, and you were definitely staring for too long. You turned your head towards the court, the sound of hands clapping together as Tashi moved with purpose onto the painted concrete.
Goosebumps slowly grew on your arms and legs, something about seeing her on the court always sent shivers down your spine. People chanting and whistling at Tashi made her smile and wave her hand at the large crowd, but she was obviously looking for you. Maybe not obvious to everybody else, but you could tell. She always stood up a little straighter when you were at her matches.
She finally found you and gave you a small wave and smile that made your own widen. Illuminating confidence was something that Tashi could just do. You didn't know how it came so easily for her, even the most perfect people in the world had things they were insecure about.
But then again, was there anybody more perfect than Tashi?
To nobody's surprise, the match went swimmingly, adding another notch in Tashi’s beautifully crafted belt. You watched as the sweat fell down her chest, absorbing into the spandex of her tank top. Nothing could compare to the look of pride that fell upon her face once she won, it was like being crowned queen in her world. Even after being to a couple of her games, you still watched her with endearment. Most would be jealous of her position, but not you. Okay, maybe you were a little bit. But who could blame you!
Patrick nudged your elbow and scoffed when you snapped out of your trance. “Earth to Goo-Goo Eyes. You ogling my girlfriend?”
You laughed, covering your mouth as if mocking him.
“Is that what you're calling each other now?
“Yeah, I think she’s making me an honest man.”
You sighed and murmured under your breath, “ain’t what she said…”
Patrick cleared his throat and furrowed his brows at you, sitting up straighter as Art started to get up from his seat.
—
After the three of you met up with Tashi, she went back to her dorm and showered, while you all sat in her small dorm. Art was sitting on the floor, Patrick was standing, and you had claimed the bed.
Patrick and you had argued about who got to sit on the bed for a good two minutes before Tashi paused her shower to yell from the closed bathroom door, “Fuck, Patrick! She gets it!” The running water resumed as you two stared at each other, dumbfounded. However, you found satisfaction in taking your sweet time to sit on the mattress.
“Oh fuck off.” Patrick spat while plopping himself back into her desk chair, Art giggling to himself as the two of you bickered.
“I’ve earned the title.” You purred, a smug smile on your face as you leaned back on your forearms.
Patrick just rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, typing out replies on the small keyboard. You wondered just how many letters got bashed because of his unruly typing. “So where do you guys wanna go to dinner?” Art asked as he cleared his throat, looking between the two of you.
You shrugged, looking down at Art. “We could try that new sandwich shop down the street?”
“Didn’t some guy from your class get food poisoning from that place?”
“I'd pay anything to see either of you get food poisoning.” Patrick chipped in, looking up at the two of you with that stupid side smirk.
Art punched his calf and Patrick yelped in return, holding his leg up to his chest. The three of you all laughed amongst yourselves until Tashi stepped out of the bathroom in a t-shirt and shorts. She raised an eyebrow and smiled at the three of you, huffing out a laugh.
“We’re going to the new place down the street, you in?” Patrick asked, slumping in his chair more as he looked up at her.
Tashi shrugged and nodded, grabbing your hand and dragging you up from her bed while you giggled. “Let’s go.” She said calmly, turning her head to watch you trailing behind her.
The two boys got up from their seats and followed you both in the direction of said sandwich place, Art spinning half way through the walk there to trip Patrick.
“Dick!” Patrick shouted as he lost his footing, grabbing onto Art’s forearm to keep himself stable.
Once you entered the restaurant, you took a good look at your surroundings. It resembled a 70’s diner with the striped wallpaper and vintage jukebox in the corner that still played music. The four of you were seated in a booth that clung to your thighs when you sat down, with Tashi sliding in next to you. Patrick and Art sat across from you, and you could tell almost immediately that Art was eyeing Tashi. He was looking at her the same way that you did while she was on the court.
It was cute, really. Patrick noticed from the corner of his eye and then looked at you, as if to say “he thinks he's slick”. You both snickered as you looked down at your menus, Tashi lightly nudging your foot with hers and then placing a hand on your thigh.
You held your lips between your teeth for a second before letting them go, trying to suppress the small smile on your face. Whenever Tashi was quietly intimate with you, butterflies filled your stomach and sent a quick jolt to your heart. You just weren't expecting it, was all. Wasn't it?
You looked up through your lashes to find Art in front of you, who was “discreetly” eyeing Tashi the whole time. You didn’t think he’d looked down at the menu once. Patrick however, wasn't paying any attention to anything at all. He didn't stare like Art did, not pathetically like you did while she swung the racket, he didn’t stare at all. He skimmed. He glanced.
It made no sense to you, how could you look at Tashi and not want her to be the only thing you see? She was otherworldly. She had the type of beauty that made girls look in the mirror and sigh in disappointment. You knew her struggles, her problems, she broke in your hands and you let her lie there. It made her all the more beautiful, though.
You just couldn't wrap your head around what Patrick was even doing with Tashi. If he wasn’t willing to gaze at her like she was the only woman on Earth, what was he possibly doing?
A waitress soon walked over, taking your orders and then rushing away. Tashi finally looked up at Art, raising an eyebrow and grimacing at him. “Art.”
His trance never broke, only replying with a quiet, “yes?”
“What’s up?”
“You look good.”
Tashi huffed out a laugh, putting a damp curl behind her ear and brushing him off. "Sure, Art."
Patrick wasn't even mad about Art blatantly hitting on his girlfriend. You looked perplexed, sitting back against the fake leather of your booth and looking between the two.
To be frank, you never got an explanation.
Soon enough, your sandwiches were laid out on the table and you all began to dig in. Tashi made a small moan after taking a bite into hers. You swallowed your bite but still covered your mouth as you spoke.
“Good?”
“Really fucking good.”
She leaned a bit closer to you, offering you a bite of her sandwich. You took it, how could you not? Anything with high praise from Tashi must've been good, right? As you chewed, your eyes slightly widened while turning to her.
“It's great, right?”
You nodded vigorously, swallowing your bite again and laughing a little. Tashi continued to stare at you, it was soft, something that never really crossed her face very often. She was always so cold and cut, so seeing her with a quieter look made her seem more human than tennis fiend.
You felt heat start to slowly creep up your neck the longer she stared, so you forced yourself to look away and went back to eating your sandwich. It was nowhere near as good as Tashi’s, but you didn’t mind.
Neither of the boys commented on the prolonged eye contact that the two of you had. You were expecting them to mock you both in some way, but that didn't happen. You looked back up at the two in front of you and saw why they hadn't commented on it. Patrick was staring at Art the way Tashi had stared at you. It was almost a painful look of yearning, pathetic even.
When you and Tashi finished your sandwiches, she placed her hand on your thigh again and gave it a light squeeze to get your attention.
“We’ve got that exam tomorrow, right?”
You looked over at her and nodded, resting your chin on your fist.
“We should probably go then. I know how much you hate studying last minute.”
You looked in front of you at the guys and they didn't seem to hear your conversation. You turned back to face Tashi and then bit your lip anxiously. “Shouldnt we wait for them to finish?”
Tashi raised an eyebrow and put a hand on your shoulder. “Patrick won't mind paying.”
“Alright… sure.” You said, sliding out of the booth and letting Tashi slide out next to you. When the two of you started walking, you heard Patrick and Art say something – but couldn't make out what it was. They were probably cursing the two of you out for leaving so abruptly. She put a hand on your lower back, guiding you through the restaurant and leaning close to your ear with a little laugh. “Ignore them.”
Art sighed, turning to Patrick with a little laugh. “You’re paying. I don't have any money on me, man.”
“Greedy bitches.” Patrick returned, not only directed at the two of you, but at Art too.
—
When you arrived back at Tashi’s dorm, she let you go in first, trailing not too far behind you.
You set your things down and stacked books on top of each other in the order you would take notes in. Tashi put her phone on her nightstand, slipping off her shoes and watching as you unpacked your bag.
“You should shower, can't be dirty during a sleepover.” She said, plopping down on her bed with a sigh as her eyes trailed down your figure.
The word “sleepover” was like a trigger in your mind. You were like a dog hearing its favorite word with the way you perked up. You laughed a little and put a piece of hair behind your ear, turning your head to look at her.
“Fine.” You dragged the word out as you slid your shoes off, walking to the small bathroom and shutting the door behind you.
While the water ran, the door opened to Tashi putting a pile of her clothes on the lid of her laundry basket. When you got out of the shower and saw the folded articles of clothing, your heart grew two sizes bigger. You opened the door to find Tashi sitting on the floor, using your books to write her notes. She looked up from her pen, her eyes lingering on you in a way that couldn't be platonic.
“You look good.” She smiled, following your every movement as you sat next to her and reached for your own notebook.
Your cheeks reddened, lightly smacking her arm with the back of your hand. “Quit flirting with me.” You said with a smile you couldn't bite back.
Tashi didn’t say anything after that. She stared like she didn’t want to do anything else. She stared like you’d disappear if she stopped. It was soft, comforting, something you wouldn't trade for anything else. Even if it flustered you, you wouldn't tell her to stop. You couldn't possibly do that – it was considered sacrilege in your mind.
While you wrote in your notebook – transferring different quotes to the paper – Tashi had forgotten about her notes entirely. Her legs flat against the floor as her notebook rested against her thighs.
Her hand reached to grab your jaw, turning your face to her and crashing her lips against yours in a way that could only be described as vulnerable. You squeaked, but didn't pull away. If anything, you melted against her. Falling against her and pulling her in close by your arms around her neck. She was holding onto you hard enough that she might leave bruise marks, but you weren't concerned with that at the moment. Tashi Fucking Duncan was kissing you!
She pulled away first. “Tell me to stop and I will.” She said, her voice full of breath as she leaned in for another kiss. You only nodded and pulled her closer, her chest now against yours while you both slowly fell to lie on the uncomfortable, rough carpet.
You pulled away, biting her lip a little and dragging it towards you before letting it go. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” you said quietly, laughing a little. She laughed a little with you, resting her forehead against yours.
“Why didn't you?”
“Youre with Patrick, I didn't want to cause any proble-”
“Fuck Patrick.”
You laughed again, pulling your head away from her to look around you. “Okay then. Fuck Patrick.”
“See, baby? You get it.” She said, leaning in for another kiss, which you happily obliged.
Her hands settled themselves on your waist, lightly running her hands up and down a bit. The two of you didn't separate, no. You kept going. It got messier, it got desperate, it got noisy.
“God, you’re fucking gorgeous.” She muttered in between kisses, resting her palm against your cheek.
She dragged you up to her bed, carefully laying you down and crawling on top of you once again. The kiss still didn't break. It only broke once Tashi lifted herself up, straddling your hips as you sat up on your forearms while she put her thumb to your lips.
You looked up at her with a pathetic look in your eye, slowly parting your lips and placing her thumb in between your front teeth.
Tashi smiled, tilting her head slightly but never taking her eyes off of you. “You know what to do, hm?”
You pulled back from her thumb and kissed the pad of it, leaning upwards to pull her into another passionate kiss. Your hands slowly trailed up her abdomen, now with her sitting in your lap. You retracted yourself from her lips and started to slowly kiss her neck, right under her jaw.
She let out a small whimper when you grazed your teeth to the hollow between her shoulder and neck. You laughed a little, lifting your head back to embrace her lips with your own once again while your hands got closer and closer to her bra.
Tashi got on top of you again, your head now landing on her pillow as one of your legs came to rest on her hip. The kiss was rough, ludicrous, everything you could’ve wanted from her, but you felt the need to tease her a bit.
“Fuck you.” You said in between breaths.
“For what?” She asked.
You smiled, kissing her with urgency. “For not doing this sooner.”
She pulls away and rolls her eyes.
“God, you’re needy.” She teases before diving back in to kiss you, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing her own to the side. Tashi’s lips trailed down your abdomen, dragging your shorts down with her teeth while you watched in awe.
She looked determined, like she did on the court, which got you even more flustered. She tugged at her own shorts and kissed your inner thighs, leaving light bite marks behind.
Tashi was like a starved woman, your fingers curling in her hair as she went to work. Your back arched against her mattress and she slid her hand up to hold yours, intertwining your fingers and squeezing. Just to feel how your hand gripped her own, evidence of how good she was doing.
That night, you learned what Tashi meant when she said she wasn’t in love with Patrick.
hope you guys liked this!! its a little different than what I normally do, but i want to start writing things like this more often. hopefully its not too bad lol. <33
likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
i do NOT consent my work being translated, reposted to any other site, or put into ai.
I re-watched 28 days later today and I have to say there’s something so undeniably sexy about someone killing people to protect you. people who are trying to hurt you or kill you gets dropped like flies. like that shit is so sexy you’re gonna gouge a man’s eyes out for me? For a little ol me? We fucking for sure. 
hey y'all... been a hot minute. i literally couldn't find the motivation to write for soooo long, so sorry about the long wait. but chapter four is here now and hopefully the length makes up for it! hope you like ittt <33
summary: an emotionally unavailable young man slowly starts to come to terms with his feelings for another. a drunken almost-hookup solidifies those feelings.
warnings: alcohol consumption, brief mentions of smoking, underage drinking, mention of a creepy teacher, toxic ex girlfriends (eeee drama), LOTS of kissing, guys being desperately gay (what's new), cursing, YEARNINGGGGGG
prev chapter
September, 1986
Wyatt wouldn’t admit it, but he’d thought about Charles’ arms around him ever since that night. He’d sometimes put his own around himself to pretend they were Charles’. It was pathetic, really. What was a man, rough as sandpaper, doing wrapping himself in his own arms?
He’d fallen asleep thinking of Charles at times, and it was the best god damn sleep he’d ever had. Wyatt started to daydream about those soft hands running over his freckled and sun damaged biceps, wondering how it’d actually feel. Sometimes he would be so lost in his own head that customers would have to snap in front of his eyes to get his attention.
What was going on with him?
—
Wyatt was at Richie’s, covering for his boss that couldn’t make it in. Working on his day off was the last thing he wanted to do, but at least he made more money. Around two in the afternoon, one of Wyatt’s friends, Roy, came into the store and smiled brightly when he saw Wyatt at the counter.
”’Ay man! I thought you were off today?” Roy exclaimed, walking to the fridges at the back of the store and grabbing a six pack of beer.
Wyatt huffed out a laugh, leaning against the glass counter. “Nah, Richie couldn’t come in today. Somethin’ about his kid bein’ sick. I dunno.” He shrugged, staring at his friend now walking up.
The heavy six pack was put down, Roy grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket and thumbing through cash. He let out a small hum and then furrowed his brow, handing Wyatt a five dollar bill. “Who even gets sick during summer? Oh! How was your date with Sammy the other night?” he asked with enthusiasm.
Wyatt froze for a second, his fingers gripping the money a little tighter. He wasn’t one to falter in front of people, especially his friends. “Fuck you wanna know for?” He spat, regaining his usual composure.
Roy’s eyes widened a little, his mouth opening a little as if he didn’t know what to say.
”Well?” Wyatt asked, handing him a couple of coins and awaiting his answer.
Roy cleared his throat and took the coins, stuffing them in his pocket. “You just… You usually tell me about your dates. That’s all.”
Wyatt scoffed. “Yeah, well I ain’t tellin’ you ‘bout this one.” He said, grabbing a cigarette from the open pack next to him.
”So,” Roy started, “there’s a party going on at Jamie’s later tonight. Thought you might wanna go.”
He nodded, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag before breathing out the smoke. “Sure, what time?”
“Nine thirty or so.”
”A’right, I’ll be there.” Wyatt grinned, holding the cigarette between his fingers to give his hands something to do. Roy left shortly after that, driving off in his gray Chevrolet. Wyatt ran a hand through his short hair, sighing and taking another quick drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out.
—
Wyatt got there around thirty minutes after the original start time, but it wasn’t like anybody was truly waiting for him to arrive. He walked through a crowd of too much hairspray and cheap bear cans on the ground, listening to the rock that blasted through blown out speakers. He thought he recognized the song. Maybe something by Blondie.
He watched as church girls his age straddled other boys, again his age. Some of them were probably a little older. Wyatt watched as he saw two of his ex-flings grab other boys by the hand and drag them upstairs.
He even saw one of the history teachers making out with a girl he’d been in a class with two years ago. The teacher was maybe in his late twenties, he certainly didn’t look ancient. But Wyatt had adopted a bit of disgust for the teacher as he watched the girl and him suck face.
He leaned against the table that held all of the alcohol and wasn’t even surprised that some of it was already knocked over. He reached for a can of whatever was behind him, cracking it open and taking a gulp.
“Wyyaaattt!” A girl yelled in front of him –clearly tipsy, if not already drunk– with her arms held out like wings beside her. The glitter from her eyeshadow was everywhere except her eyelids and she had a thin layer of sweat developing on her neck. It made Wyatt let out a chuckle before opening his own arms for her to slot herself into. “Trish.” Was all he said with a smile on his face.
Trish had her arms wrapped around his middle, resting her cheek into his chest and then looking up at him without letting go. “Nobody told me you would be here!” She said as she pulled away, lightly shoving his shoulder. The shove barely moved him as he sipped on his beer, watching her with nothing but endearment in his eyes.
—
Trish had been Wyatt’s best friend since grade school. The typical “quiet and tough guy is best friends with the ecstatic girl who can’t live without color” kind of pair. She’d changed a lot since they were young, but she’d never lost her smile. She could never lose it.
Trish was the only girl that Wyatt truly kept around, the only girl he couldn’t find himself wanting to shake from his life. How could he? Despite their differences, they actually complemented each other quite well. He’d show her his cassettes while they smoked cigarettes in his truck, and she’d show him the cheesy chick-flicks that he’d quickly grown a soft spot for.
—
“I don’t really think anybody knew I was gon’ be here. Roy didn’t even believe me when I said I’d go to this thing.” Wyatt laughed, gulping down another sip of beer that surprisingly wasn’t that bad. Trish put her hands on her hips and pouted in all of her glittered glory.
“Did he actually say he didn’t think you were -hic!- …gonna show up?” She pushed, watching as Wyatt stiffened slightly while his beer hung in between his fingers. He hesitated to answer. “...No”
“Don’t read into things so much, it's one of your more freakish habits.” Trish teased, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing kisses to his cheek repeatedly. Wyatt pretended to gag but then started laughing when she punched his stomach.
“You reek of… Jesus, what is that?”
“Whiiissskkeyyyy!” Trish slurred, giggling with her face pressed to his collarbone.
Wyatt grimaced and raised an eyebrow. “Bad whiskey…” he muttered, patting her shoulder twice.
—
As the night progressed, Wyatt came undone. Drinking whatever Trish did wasn’t unusual for him, they always shared a bottle at parties they went to. He was drinking more than he normally would, and it showed. He wanted Charles out of his head for one second. Just one.
It was around midnight when Wyatt and Trish were sitting on the couch, nursing a bottle of lukewarm tequila and a cigarette between them. Wyatt drunkenly laughed at something, his cheeks lightly pink when he looked around the room and saw her.
Heather McNulty was a girl that Wyatt had gone steady with for a year, the relationship to say the least, was not good for either of them. Cheating was on both ends, so they decided to call it quits. They stayed fuck buddies for a while — but I’m sure you can imagine how that turned out.
But now she was eyeing him down from across the room while making out with her new boyfriend. The rumors about her spread just like the ones about him, except she was ridiculed for being promiscuous and free with her sexuality.
Everyone assumed that the new guy she was with was some kind of puppy, someone who’d look up at her with a leash around their neck and big round eyes. Wyatt wasn’t that, he wasn’t what she needed. Or rather, what she wanted.
Heather took her eyes off of Wyatt and took her boyfriend’s hand, leading him upstairs before sending Wyatt a smirk and a jerk of her chin. Wyatt patted Trish’s calf and stammered as he talked, knowing damn well that she hated Heather with a passion.
“I, uh… I’m gon’ go get another… beer.” He said before getting up rather quickly and walking up the stairs, trying to find which room that Heather was in.
Wyatt walked down the thin hallway for a few seconds before standing outside of a door slightly cracked open. He put his hand up to the doorknob and hesitated for a second.
Should he be doing this?
This certainly can’t end in anything good.
But he didn’t care, how could he when she looked at him like she wanted to eat him alive? He pushed open the door and saw Heather and her boy-toy on the bed, with him kissing her neck. His hand was moving through her black curls, desperate to touch any and every inch of her. Wyatt couldn’t blame him.
Heather turned her head to see Wyatt standing like an idiot in the doorway, chuckling to herself. “Are ‘ya just gonna stand there?” she asked. Her boyfriend looked up at the tall man just a few feet away from him, with his glasses all fogged and his hair sticking up like a porcupine.
Wyatt cautiously walked over, looking down at her and running a rough palm along her cheek. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. A true vixen doing what she did best, getting what she wanted.
He leaned down to kiss her, their lips intertwining like a dance they’d rehearsed before. Slowly, she leaned down to rest on her forearms with Wyatt chasing after her.
He had his body hovering over hers, her mahogany fingers tangled in his choppy brown hair as she laid down. Her other hand reached over his shoulder and slid underneath the back of his shirt collar, feeling at the thin scar tissue seams that laid upon his back.
“You gonna leave him hangin’?” Heather asked, breaking the kiss and letting out a breath of laughter. Wyatt swallowed and looked at the bespectacled man next to him, his lips all red and eyes so pathetic it was hard to consider him a man. Wyatt sat up, straddling Heather’s hips and thinking for a second with a hunched back.
“Ah, fuck it…” Wyatt muttered, climbing off of Heather’s lap and pulling the boy-toy into a kiss far too rough for someone as delicate as him. The two went on like that until they couldn't hold their breath any longer. The boy-toy’s hand creeped up to rest on Wyatt’s firm chest, while Wyatt’s hand slid up his hip and underneath the hem of his shirt.
Heather bit her lip and sat on the outskirts of them, sitting on her knees while leaning on her palms in front of her. Her hands crept up to each of their jaws, guiding them to link with her lips.
It was sloppy, a mess of tongue and swapped spit that nobody had experienced that intensely before. Wyatt and the boy-toy were soon left to claw at each other. Their hands moved up and down torsos, thighs, asses, anything they could get their hands on.
The vixen who’d caused it all sat back and watched for a few seconds, before pulling her tank top off and moving one of Wyatt’s hands to toy with her lace clad chest. Wyatt broke away from the kiss and moved to get closer to Heather, connecting his mouth with hers before slowly working his way down her neck, trailing over her sternum and stopping just before the waistband of her jeans.
Soon, the two young men had their shirts off with Heather being completely topless. Wyatt was about to unzip the vixen’s jeans, but in his drunken state he started to feel guilty. He felt guilty because he wasn't doing this to Charles. Alcohol could only keep Charles out for so long, and it was starting to get worse. His hand froze as he stared into the bronze button of the denim, feeling tears well in his eyes.
“I can’t do this.”
“What?”
“I gotta… god fuckin’ damnit.” Wyatt blubbered, climbing off the bed and grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor. He didn’t even bother putting it back on until he got to his truck outside.
He had to see Charles.
i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! i had so much fun writing this one. the three-way kiss scene was loosely based off challengers and i'm not afraid to admit that. that movie is literally my FAVORITE.
likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
i do NOT consent my work being translated, reposted to any other site, or put into ai.
Idc, normalize kink shaming. Cause y'all be using “don’t kink shame” and “it’s fiction” to excuse being into incest, pedophilia, cannibalism, etc. Like, be so fr, you ship a 14 year old with a 30 year, want to get railed by your dad and want to see two brothers f*ck each other. I don’t engage with things fictionally that I don’t like/wouldn’t want to do in real life. Yes, I’m judging you.
