Donald Trump has a thing about Barack Obama. Trump is obsessed with Obama. Obama haunts Trump’s dreams. One of Trump’s primary motivators is the absolute erasure of Obama — were it possible — not only from the political landscape but also from the history books.
Trump is president because of Obama, or more precisely, because of his hostility to Obama. Trump came onto the political scene by attacking Obama.
Trump has questioned not only Obama’s birthplace but also his academic and literary pedigree. He was head cheerleader of the racial “birther” lie and also cast doubt on whether Obama attended the schools he attended or even whether he wrote his acclaimed books.
Trump has lied often about Obama: saying his inauguration crowd size exceeded Obama’s, saying that Obama tapped his phones and, just this week, saying that Obama colluded with the Russians.
It’s like a 71-year-old male version of Jan from what I would call the Bratty Bunch: Obama, Obama, Obama.
Trump wants to be Obama — held in high esteem. But, alas, Trump is Trump, and that is now and has always been trashy. Trump accrued financial wealth, but he never accrued cultural capital, at least not among the people from whom he most wanted it.
Therefore, Trump is constantly whining about not being sufficiently applauded, commended, thanked, liked. His emotional injury is measured in his mind against Obama. How could Obama have been so celebrated while he is so reviled?
The whole world seemed to love Obama — and by extension, held America in high regard — but the world loathes Trump. A Pew Research Center report issued this week found:
“Trump and many of his key policies are broadly unpopular around the globe, and ratings for the U.S. have declined steeply in many nations. According to a new Pew Research Center survey spanning 37 nations, a median of just 22 percent has confidence in Trump to do the right thing when it comes to international affairs. This stands in contrast to the final years of Barack Obama’s presidency, when a median of 64 percent expressed confidence in Trump’s predecessor to direct America’s role in the world.”
Obama was a phenomenon. He was elegant and cerebral. He was devoid of personal scandal and drenched in personal erudition. He was a walking, talking rebuttal to white supremacy and the myths of black pathology and inferiority. He was the personification of the possible — a possible future in which legacy power and advantages are redistributed more broadly to all with the gift of talent and the discipline to excel.
It is not a stretch here to link people’s feelings about Obama to their feelings about his blackness. Trump himself has more than once linked the two.
Clearly, not only was Obama’s blackness in the front of Trump’s mind, but Trump also appears to subscribe to the racist theory that success or failure of a member of a racial group redounds to all in that group. This is a burden under which most minorities in this country labor.
Trump’s racial ideas were apparently a selling point among his supporters. Recent research has dispensed with the myth of “economic anxiety” and shone a light instead on the central importance race played in Trump’s march to the White House.
For Trump, even plans to repeal and replace the Affordable Care Act aren’t so much about creating better policy as they are about dismantling Obama’s legacy. The problem with Obamacare isn’t that it hasn’t borne fruit, but rather that it bears Obama’s name.
For Trump, the mark of being a successful president is the degree to which he can expunge Obama’s presidency.
Hey Hollywood, can we have the classic makeover montage, but instead of a tomboy being forced into a dress and makeup, they put on a nice suit?
Like, imagine you’ve got this teen girl who always wears basketball shorts, sweat pants, ripped and baggy jeans, hoodies, etc.
But this girl wants the popular, head cheerleader to notice her. So her friends gather and giver her a makeover. She walks out of the closet (heh) wearing nice slacks, a button down shirt, maybe with suspenders or a tie, and her messy mop of hair that usually covers her eyes is cut and slicked back so it frames her face better.
Well, When I first met Brooke Davis she had no idea who I was. Of course, everyone knew who she was. She was the most popular girl in school. She was head cheerleader, annoyingly pretty. Still is. And I used to wonder back then, “what it would be like to be friends with Brooke? “Would she make me popular? Would all the boys start asking me out?” And then one night, I got to hang out with Brooke all night. And, oh, she didn’t like my name, though, so she decided she was gonna give me a name that she did like, which ended up being Brooke. And from that moment, I knew that I wanted Brooke to be my friend, not because she was gonna make me popular and not because boys would start asking me out, but because I got a glimpse of the real Brooke, a girl with the biggest heart that I have ever known. And, you know, when you’re in High School, it’s not very easy to let people see who you really are. I could see it, though. It was in the eyes. So we became friends, and now she’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the years. And our friendship is still growing. (..) I love you, Brooke Davis.
Okay, hear me out: Carlos wasn’t a fan of Tourney, he mostly joined for Jay. But one day, they have a break in practice and the boys are all oogling the cheerleaders (and he smacks Jay when he wolf-whistles). The girls do flips and twists and splits and Carlos think ‘huh. I can do all of that stuff too. And I do it all way better than tourney.’
- He doesn’t even ask, just hops in and mimics what the girls do before tourney practice starts. At first, everyone is laughing like its a joke until Carlos expertly lands every flip, then they’re all like ‘holy shit, he’s really good’
- Audrey is unhappy because she’s not use to sharing the spotlight, but she sees Carlos’ strength and how seriously he takes catching their fliers (girls who get thrown in the air). She begrudgingly admits he could help throw girls higher and help them land safer
- She grows to really like having Carlos on the team because none of the other schools have a male cheerleader and it sets them apart
- Auradon has never had a male cheerleader before either, so Evil has to design his outfit. The cheer squad has to bribe Carlos with peanut butter cups to wear school colors (blue and yellow), but he still wears black, white and red for practice
- Carlos is initially worried he will be made fun of (not like that’s new, he was picked on all the time in the Island), but everyone is very chill about a dude being a cheerleader
- Any team that tries to mock Carlos has to deal with Mal AND Evie AND the coach AND Auradon’s cheer squad AND the tourney team
- He still helps out with tourney by critiquing plays and fixing the canons, he and coach get along, even if Carlos was a below average tourney player
- gently has to remind the rest of the squad that he doesn’t like a lot of feminine activities - he can’t bond over getting his nails or hair done. So the rest of the squad tries to come up with gender neutral activities like board game nights or going to the movies together
- maybe the girls are kind of weirded out too at first, but they end up loving having a guy on the team. Carlos is always offering to help fix their cars (because he enjoys working with any kind of machine) and never lets any of them fall
- Slowly, the team pieces together why Carlos is so good at gymnastics and has such crazy endurance: his flexibility comes from fitting into small spaces when hiding and his speed comes from running away and his strength comes from defending himself in fights. They never like to ask about it or talk about it, but it really helps for them to accept Carlos and appreciate him on the team.
- Carlos is hella protective of his squad and any dude from another team caught harassing them has to deal with him. Maybe he’s small and short, be he knew how to fight on the Isle and listen, asshole, did you just try to look up Ally’s skirt? Come here, fucker
- All the girls have to hold Carlos back before he knocks out some jerk from an opposing school
- there’s no tourney equivalent of quarterback and Carlos is not the head cheerleader, but he and Jay still fit the stereotype of star sports player dating a cheerleader and the whole school loses their mind over how cute they are
- students try to discreetly snap pictures of when Carlos wears Jay’s tourney to class, but he catches them
- Jay begs and begs and begs for Carlos to get a cheerleading skirt but he refuses (except for that one time on Jay’s birthday)
- anyone who makes a weird comment about how flexible and limber Carlos is will get a black eye from Jay, no warning
- Carlos’ favorite thing about being a cheerleader is how he gets to cheer specifically for Jay at every game
(I’m sorry if my cheerleading knowledge is inaccurate. I dated a competitive cheerleader, so all of my knowledge is second hand.)
Summary: Punk!Phil has a crush, so when Pastel!Dan is manning a kissing booth for a school event, he finds himself showing up with a pound in his pocket.
Word count: 5364
Special thanks goes to Harley (@danslester) for giving me the idea for this fic and encouraging me as I was writing it, and to Gisele (@fringegaps) for reading it over and promising it was okay to post. (Also let me know if you’d be interested in seeing more of this version of Dan and Phil because they were fun to write and I have a few ideas.)
The first letter appears when she is thirteen. She feels a burning sensation on her wrist, panic flaring at the sudden pain but it quickly turns to excitement when she sees the ink form into the shape of a T.
She shows her parents, happy at the thought of soon meeting her soulmate. The first thing she does is Google names with the letter T.
She’s fourteen when she meets Ty. He hasn’t gotten any letters yet and she’s not quite sure she loves him, yet. But it could be him. They date, she kisses him, she feels empty.
She asks her mom how she felt when she met her dad and She deflates when the lovesick poetic description of feeling complete and ethereal love. She’s never felt like that with Ty.
She’s fifteen and She knows it’s not him, he knows it’s not her. She hates the way his eyes light up when he meets her friend (teammate), Amanda. And she hates the look that mirrors Amanda. And they both still don’t have any letters but they are hanging out all the time. It doesn’t bother her until they start excluding her. It’s then when she no longer can live in denial.
It’s petty, she’s jealous and she does something stupid.
She sends the picture to Ty and it all comes crashing down. They fight, she can’t remember what’s said but she knows it’s harsh but what kills her is when he shows her the A on his wrist. But it’s what he says afterwards that completely breaks her.
“Hopefully you never meet your soulmate because you don’t deserve them.”
And it angers her so much because it’s true. She knocks his tooth out (they put it back).
That night a R appears after the T. It’s bittersweet she thinks as she feels asleep with tears in her eyes. She uses her watch to cover her wrist after that day and vows tip forget about her soulmate.
Trini’s twelve when she gets the K. It’s bittersweet.
She’s sitting at the dining table with her parents when she starts to feel like someone is dragging a razor across her skin. She lifts her sleeve up and jumps in astonishment as black ink begins to form a letter. Her parents watch in excitement with her and when the letter becomes clear they start spouting off names with the letter K; Kevin, Kyle, Karl. Trini’s heart breaks a little because she knows (hopes) that the name will be different.
She thinks of Katie the cute girl who sits in front of her in English. Of Keisha who always smiles at her in the hallways. She wishes she could tell her parents. She wishes she could be honest. She wishes her parents would understand when she’s ready.
She brings Katie over for a study date. Katie who still hasn’t gotten any letters but has seen the K on her wrist and smiles often at her. Sometime later Katie leans over and lands a peck on her lips. Trini feels her face heat up. They go back to studying even though Trini can’t concentrate anymore. She can’t stop thinking about Katie’s soft lips. She can’t stop thinking about how nice it felt. She’s not sure if Katie is her soulmate but she wouldn’t mind kissing her again.
They’ve been together for almost a year and Trini thinks she’s in love, she believes they might be soulmates. She feels the happiest she’s ever been. She still hasn’t told her parents but the suspicious looks her mother gives her makes her insides hurt.
It’s when she’s thirteen that her world falls apart.
Katie comes in and She can tell that the girl is trying to contain her excitement but she’s bubbling with energy.
“I got my first letter.” Trini can tell the girl is trying (and failing) to sound disappointed.
It feels like her heart stutters. Katie reveals her wrist and a D is there flaring back at her.
“I’m sorry. Good luck with finding your soulmate.”
Trini never looks back up. Katie leaves and she doesn’t move. She feels empty in a way that it hurts. For the next week she refuses to go to school, refuses to answer her parents’ concerned questions and only eats the bare minimum.
She gets an I following the K after that. But she’s numb, she doesn’t care. She could get a full name and still not be sure that she has found her soulmate. So many people share the same name. She’s not going to get hurt again.
They move a month later.
She’s fourteen when her parents bring over Kaleb from church. She hates him. Hates the way his shirt is tucked into his jeans all nice and proper, hates how he addresses her parents as sir and ma'am, hates how he keeps trying to discreetly (and fails) glance at her bracelet covered wrist. She sees the T on his wrist and almost feels sorry for him. She ignores him throughout dinner as her parents encourage (push) her to converse with him.
“You’re wasting your time.” Trini finally mumbles without looking up but the silence that follows tells her that the whole table heard.
Her mother excuses her little brothers who take the chance and run to their room.
“I’m not your soulmate.” She finally looks at the boy. She shows him her wrist, the two letters causing a delusury burning (she wishes she could rip her skin off), relief crosses his face and Trini scoffs.
“What are you waiting for, you know where the door is?” She pushes her plate away, not that she has ate much.
“Trini that’s no way to treat our guest.” Her mom scolds her with a glare as Kaleb shifts uncomfortably in his seat, itching to get out of this place (just like Trini).
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Her father presses gently.
It’s eating at her and if she holds it any longer she’ll drown. It comes from the back of her throat before she can think of the repercussions.
“Because I’m gay!”
Kaleb leaves after that. Her nightmares come true, her mom starts yelling at her amd she sits their unresponsive which only serves to fuel her mother’s anger. She yells at her for embarrassing her in front of a guest, for hiding things, and for saying nonsense. But what hurts more than her mother’s anger is the silence and look of disappointment from her father.
They move within three days.
The silence continues on her behalf. She didn’t think it could hurt more. But then her mother starts spouting off names again. Kirk, Killian, Kile. She starts avoiding dinners.
It’s not hard to find someone who deals. She does it to piss her mom off. She does it to forget. To feel something other than pain. The first time she smokes weed she has a coughing fit and wonders how the hell someone can like this shit. But eventually she gets the hang of it. She’s floating in a euphoric high, nothing can touch her.
Her vice (escape) only lasts a few months before her mom catches her. Finds a joint while snooping through her stuff. They threaten to send her to rehab. They move again.
Her mother’s questions continue but now a monthly urine test is added to the conversations. She stops if just to get her mother off her back. But she wonders what her next vice will be.
At times when she’s showering, she considers grabbing the razor and dragging it across her wrist destroying the letters that only seem to bring her problems. But she can never being herself to do it.
She considers getting a tattoo to cover it. She knows a guy who’ll do it even though she’s a minor. She makes an appointment, shows up. It’s really sketchy, in his living room but he pulls out a brand new clean needle but before he can bring the needle to her skin she retracts. She needs to know the full mame first, know that her mother is wrong and that she’s not confused.
But she feels bad wasting this guys time so instead she opts for something different. She ends up getting a black and yellow sabre tooth tiger on her left shoulder. She knows her parents would kill her if they ever find out but that thought encourages her to go through with it. It stings in a way similar to when she got her letters.
She’s fifteen when her parents decide to move again. Destination: Angel Grove.
She doesn’t hate it as much as she thought she would. Her new vice becomes tai chi and heavy metal.
Not long after she turns 15 she gets her third letter. She sitting in the back row of her biology classroom when the familiar stinging sensation bolts her from her thoughts. The letter M appears and her breath catches as she glances up to look at the girl sitting a few seats ahead of her. Former head cheerleader fallen from grace, that’s as much as Trini knows.
It could be her or there could be different name on the girl’s wrist. Trini doesn’t want to know.
She books it from class as soon as the bell rings and heads for the cliff. She runs, what’s the point of knowing her soulmate if her parents will force her to move eventually.
That night she meets the group of misfits. She thinks she dies but somehow wakes up alive and well in her bed the next morning. She wonders for a few minutes which option would’ve been better.
The day gets weirder but besides getting pulled over a cliff by none other than Kimberly Hart, the girl does not seem to act any different around her. Trini buries the disappointment and deems that the girl is not her soulmate.
And that thought is what makes her not run away and actually form a cautious friendship with Kimberly. Any doubts she has quickly fade, being around Kim is easy. She hasn’t felt quite is relaxed like this in a long time. She thinks she doesn’t need her soulmate when she has her friends, when she has Kim.
Kim can’t help but think it would be so easy if Jason Scott was her soulmate. He’s caring and kind but she has absolutely no romantic feelings for him. She has a T and an R on her wrist, and he has a W on one wrist and a Z on the other. He doesn’t talk about it, she doesn’t ask but she tells him everything and it helps that he forgives her for what she’s done considering she still hasn’t managed to forgive herself.
She grows closer to the rangers but closer to Trini. The girl whose like a grumpy cat but if she likes you, you’re one of the lucky ones. She’s not sure when it happens but they’re at the donut shop and it hits her. She doesn’t feel lonely anymore.
Rita happens and she doesn’t have much time to dwell on her feelings. She hasn’t felt anger as heavy as when she sees the marks on Trini’s neck and she knows that when she gets the chance she’ll make Rita regret ever laying a hand on Trini.
Billy dies, Billy comes back to life and Rita gets bitch slapped into space. Things seem to finally be settling down.
They are all still friends and Trini’s still there. Kim can’t help but think how lucky she is to have her in her life, and she’ll do whatever she can to deserve her friendship.
A few weeks after the Goldar incident and Kim finds herself sitting on Trini’s couch for a Netflix marathon. Trini’s parents are out of town visiting family for the weekend and the boys had plans to work on Jason’s truck, which makes Kim glad she can spend some alone time with Trini.
3 things happen at once.
One: Trini reaches leans forward towards the popcorn and her sleeveless shirt shifts and Kimberly catches sight of yellow and black saber tooth tiger on her left shoulder. She feels her mouth go dry, stomach tighten and a slight throb between her legs. Her face heats up as she realizes she’s turned on by discovering that Trini has a tattoo. It hits her that she’s attracted to her best friend.
Two: the familiar burning sensation on her wrist comes. She moves her watch slightly to see a new letter begin to form. An I. Her heartbeat is so loud she hears it thumping in her ears. It’s like being thrown in cold water and she wonders how she never considered the possibility that the girl in front of her could be her soulmate. She looks at Trini and wonders if she knows, if she has any letters. It’s that moment that all the feelings she has been experiencing lately begin to make sense.
Three: as Trini reaches for the popcorn bowl her bracelets on her left hand shift and Kimberly catches sight of the three letters marking the skin. She freezes and her blood runs cold. Thoughts race through her head. Trini knew and never told her and there has to be a reason for that. She doesn’t want her, why else keep it a secret.
She goes through a rollercoaster of emotions in the span of a few seconds. Arousal, joy, (it’s a goal high) and then the hurt (a goal low). And it really fucking hurts knowing that your soulmate doesn’t want you, that you don’t deserve them.
She stands abruptly, the tv control falling to the wooden floor with a clash.
if your still doing requests, could you do a fic where Jughead is a serpent and goes to Southside high and Betty is head cheerleader at riverdale and is dating Chuck? thanks and I love your writing!
Jughead held the rag to his nose, cursing under his breath as his friends all tended to their injuries. They had been jumped, absolutely wrecked by some Riverdale goonies in Blue and Yellow Letterman Jackets. Jughead recognized them instantly when they ran onto the Southside Basketball courts, Chuck Clayton leading the way as he and his idiotic, brain dead jock teammates face off against The younger generation of he Southside Serpents, a notorious gang in the darker parts of Riverdale.
Neither side had won the fight, both groups of boys going home with some serious injuries, however they had stolen his Leather Jacket and he was fairly pissed about that.
“I’ll kill them” a burly boy named Dean stated, spitting tobacco on the ground as he cracked his knuckles, nursing a seriously bruised cheek.
“We have to retaliate, maybe hit up that Diner they’re always going too.“A dirty teenager shouted from the back.
Beside him his closest friend and fellow Serpent ,Keith, rolled his eyes, elbowing Jughead with an exasperated shrug.
Jughead shook his head, wincing as he removed the rag
“We’ll get them back, but for now…we make them wait.. they’ll be waiting for us. Make them shake a bit” he said simply, as the other boys nodded in agreement. The Serpents always listened to Jughead, he was the voice of reason
And with his father being the gang leader he had somewhat of a pull.
There was a soft knock on the door, all of the boys went quiet as it slowly opened, revealing the one thing no one was expecting.
In walked an incredibly beautiful, blonde teenaged girl, her long hair pulled tightly in a ponytail and her shiny green eyes looking nervously around the bar, she had on a floral blue skirt and a clean white sweater, considering the fact that it was definitely over eighty degrees the choice of top confused Jughead, she stepped forward a nervous smile gracing her perfect heart shaped lips. She had a familiar leather jacket clenched in her hands and she seemed taken aback by everyone staring at her
“Umm hello. I’m so sorry to interrupt but I have something to return.”
Even her voice was soft like cotton. She held out the leather jacket to the group
“I found this in my boyfriends car, I know it doesn’t belong to him so I thought I would bring it back on my own.” She looked around, waiting for someone to claim it, her fingers twitching.
Snapping out of his daze Jughead walked towards the gorgeous blonde.
“That’s mine, your boyfriends an asshole” he said simply, standing before her and gently taking the jacket, his eyes fluttering closed for a second as he inhaled the fresh vanilla and peach that wafted off of her.
“You have no idea” she smiled sadly, something in her eyes made Jughead want to reach for her, grab her and wrap her up. “I’m so sorry about this, he just.. he gets that way sometimes, Chuck should never have taken your things and he definitely should never have attacked you all.” She looked around, her sad green eyes growing more desperate by the second, he wanted to make her feel better, something he wasn’t used to feeling. Jughead jones didn’t care about anyone but himself and his gang.
“It’s not your fault he’s a dick” he said monotone .
He saw a glint of something in her eyes as she giggled and he felt a tiny bit of pride for being the one to put it there. She coughed a bit and nearly every Serpent ran towards her, shoving beers in her face.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, smiling at the gesture
“That’s very sweet, but I’m okay.” She coughed again and this time Keith pushed his beer a bit too fast, spilling most of it on her sleeves, Jughead shoved his friend away from the blonde and then rest of the Serpents shouted at him, smacking him upside the head
“That’s okay!” She laughed, an honest to god happy laugh “it’s just some beer” she rolled up her sleeves to her elbows and Jughead had to bite back the hiss at what he saw. Her arms were covered in purple and blue bruises, fingerprint shaped marks littered her wrists and by the collective growl he knew the other boys had seen it too. He was going to kill Chuck Clayton.
The Serpents didn’t make the best decisions but one thing they didn’t tolerate was abuse to any woman, especially this gorgeous angel.
Her eyes went wide and she began pulling her sleeves down
“Well, once again I want to apologize for my classmates behavior. I’d like to say it won’t happen again, but when you make Chuck Clayton mad.. well there’s really nothing you can do.” She shrugged helplessly as she headed towards the door, waving slightly to the people she passed.
When she was almost at the door Jughead looked up to see each and every Serpent looking at him with threatening eyes.
“Go after her you dumbass” dean whispered loudly.
Rolling his eyes Jughead headed for the door just in time to catch her before she stepped into her black minivan.
“Hey!” He called, causing her to spin around.
“Is everything okay?” She asked, concerned.
“Everything’s fine, you just didn’t tell me your name.” He smirked, pulling his leather jacket on and sticking a cigarette into his mouth.
Betty stared at him, that same glint he had seen a few moments ago back in her eyes. She plucked the cigarette from his mouth, popping it into her pocket and beaming
“My names Betty Cooper, I’ll see you around…?” she trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.
“Jughead. Jughead Jones” he answered, still in awe of the angel in front of him.
“Okay. I’ll see you around… Jughead Jones.” With that, she got in her car and drove towards her personal hell. Riverdale, the town with pep.
Meanwhile Jughead was staring at her retreating car, his face stuck in a stupid grin.
Keith and Dean came up behind him, calling for the other Serpents.
“So.. what’s her name?” Dean asked as the low mumble of the Serpents came from behind him.
“It’s Betty.. Betty Cooper. Maybe you were right, maybe we should pay the diner a friendly visit sooner than I thought.” He said, his eyes hardening at the thought of Betty’s “boyfriend”
You want a war Chuck Clayton? You got one. And this time?
THE SIGNS AS THE MOST POPULAR GIRLS IN SCHOOL CHARACTERS
Brittnay Matthews - The hella angry and intense blonde cheerleader who gives second rate handjobs
Deandra - QUEEN of loosing her arms, eating food, and pooping.
Jonathan "Than" Getslinhaumer - He's gay! But wait... He's not gay. He once gave a guy a blowjob through a hole in the bathroom wall.
Jenna Dapananian - She never knows what's going on and gets really happy when she's finally involved with something
Mackenzie Zales - Head cheerleader, homecoming queen, AND part-time model
Ashley Katchadorian - She was in charge for the snacks in the cheer squad, but she betrayed the cheer squad attempted a join rival team. Also is terrible at keeping secrets.
Saison Marguerite - She is, umm, how you say? French. But some people say she's from Canada. She steals Brittnay's boyfriend and gets pregnant with a, how you say, baby.
Jenna Darabond - Queen of burning down malls, hipsterism, and revenge. I think she's dead now.
Bridget Tice - Rachel Tice's older and saracastic sister who works at a pizza place with a manager that has only one ball.
Judith Dinsmore - NERRRRRDDDDDDD
Shay Van Buren - Queen of becoming leader of the cheersquad after nine years of rejection from the cheersquad. Keeps it 110% all the time and is apart of the most popular family in Oakland Park.
Trisha Cappelletti - She's very very dumb, but she has a kind heart of gold and a boyfriend without a penis or balls.
i’m working on shit i swear, this is just for the wait.
HERE WE GO
Stan, Richie, Mike, and Bev are the punks.
Eddie, Stan, and Ben are the “nerds”
Stan is very intimidating with his leather jacket and his boots, but he’s a fucking softie.
Bill knows this.
They got paired for an assignment in history freshman year. Stan was pissed he didn’t get Mike (because my son is a genius!) but when he saw how cute Bill was he dropped it.
Bill was expecting to do the whole thing himself, but Stan was very helpful and did his part.
Bill was lowkey embarrassed about his stutter because HE was used to it and so were his friends, but he was scared Stan was gonna make fun of him for it
He didn’t (much to Bill’s surprise)
Richie kept teasing Stan because of how much he talked about Bill.
But Stan could do the same thing with him and Eddie
Bev is a lesbian!
Mike has a little crush on Ben
After the project was over, Stan still sat next to Bill.
And talked to him
And hung out with him.
They’re like real friends
That occasionally flirt
and are constantly touching each other
but whatever, moving on
BECAUSE they hung out so much that meant that their crews hung out too
No one was complaining, everyone had a crush on everyone (except for Bev, of course. she was crushing on the head cheerleader)
This goes on until the summer before junior year (YOU ARE SIXTEEN GOING ON SEVENTEEN, BABY ITS TIME TO THINK -Bill, to which Stan replies: You’re a Fucking Dork, Denbrough)
They’re hanging out at the Denbrough household, watching a movie n stuff
There are no parents because they have jobs (Not everyone can have a summer break, Billiam -Stan)
Now, contrary to popular belief, Bill kisses Stan first.
stan is shook
But we all know Derry is a piece of shit town, so as much as they want to be open about their relationship (as much as Stan wants to show Bill off) they can’t
Bill’s parents are convinced Stan replaced Eddie as Bill’s best friend
“What do they think we’re doing in your room all the time?”
Makeout sessions start two (2) weeks after they first kiss
School starts back up again and they barely have any classes together (What the Fuck -Stan)
They see each other in between classes though
THEY MAKE EYE CONTACT AND STAN SMIRKS WHICH MAKES BILL BLUSH AND ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER, OK.
Bill starts getting antsy during class and even Eddie is like “Bro, chill tf out”
Bill doesn’t fucking know why until he sees Stan and immediately calms down
“I’m h-having Stan withdrawls???”
“That’s fucking adorable”
“Sh-Shut up, b-bird boy”
lots of hand holding
and kissing when no one is around
BILL SKIPPED CLASS JUST TO BE AROUND STAN AND MR. STANLEY LOST IT
“Bill, seriously. You don’t have to skip class, we could’ve just waited it’s fine.”
“N-No, it’s b-basically a free p-period anyways. I w-w-wanna be here”
Bev won’t let him live it down! Stan is whipped!
Mike doesn’t give a shit, he never has, really. As long as stan’s happy.
Richie’s a prick at first, but Stan really is his best friend and he knows he’s really in deep with Bill so he doesn’t say much.
BUT WHEN HE DOES.. BOY.
Ok but there was one day, Bill’s stutter was super bad for some reason. He thought it was getting better but that day was not good.
He doesn’t talk much that day and Stan gets really worried.
When Bill finally tells him what’s going on (in the middle of their makeout session because Stan won’t stop asking if he’s ok) Stan tells him that his stutter is adorable, and that he was sure it was just Bill’s nerves.
BILL GIVES HIM THE SOFTEST HEART EYES EVER before they start making out again.
But then they go and have lunch with everyone and Bill is stuttering so bad over his words. Stan is squeezing his hand underneath the table, but it’s not helping much.
And then Richie goes “Just spit it out, b-b-bill.”
Bev smacks the shit out Richie’s arm
Eddie does the same with his head.
Mike and Ben are fr glaring at him.
Stan’s ready to murder him with the spork he got in the lunchline
Bill stops talking for the day.
Stan doesn’t speak to richie for the rest of the week.
“That was fucked up, Richie.” -Eddie
“What do you want me to do, Eds? Apologize? Bill probably hates me—“
“Don’t call me Eds, and yes! that’s what I’ve been telling you to do for days now!”
Stan crawls through Bill’s window at night so he can hold his boyfriend
Stan won’t tell him that his dad usually screams at him for being a disgrace to the family.
DW, Bill will find out soon enough.
Bill hasn’t spoken much, not even with Stan and he is BEYOND PISSED at Richie.
“I’m really sorry about Richie, Bill.”
“I-It’s not your f-fault, and h-he didn’t mean a-anything by it.”
STAN JUST WANTS TO HEAR HIS BOYFRIEND’S VOICE OK
also, they haven’t actually called each other boyfriends and they’ve been dating for eight months so
“N-No, I know. I just– I just know how he can be.”
“I’m fine, Stan.”
Bill really was fine about that, he was just stressed because of school.
Stan is a few inches taller than Bill (6’0”, while Bill is chilling at 5’10”)
which means Bill is the little spoon :)
Stan absolutely loves having Bill so close to him. It helps him and Bill sleep because it’s so warm and comfortable, and with his arm around him he feels like he can protect Bill from everyone and everything.
And that’s all he wants to do
Richie does apologize to Bill, to which Bill says he really didn’t mind (it was mostly Stan)
Onto The Next
Stan slowly starts wearing brighter colors (i.e the pastels + white)
“You’ve gone soft, Stanny Boy” -Bev
“Shut the fuck up, Beverly”
“I think you look great.” -Mike
“That’s gay!” -Richie
“Beep Beep, Richie!” -Bev, Stan, and Mike.
“I was growing fond of the leather jackets.” -Bill.
“It’s too hot for that, Denbrough.”
Now, it’s pretty clear how overprotective Stan is of Bill, but Mr. Denbrough is just as bad as he is.
Girls flirting with Stan? Issa no from Bill.
BUT HE CAN’T DO ANYTHING IN PUBLIC IT SUCKS
So it just leads to a very heated makeout later.
BOYS flirt with Stan? (yeah, it’s happened) Count Billiam is alive and well.
Seriously! the love bites that boy leaves, whew.
And stan didn’t give a shit whether or not his dad saw them.
“Bill, they’re everywhere. You can stop.”
“I’ll st-stop a-as soon as I-I can say h-he’s my f-fucking boyfriend ou-outloud.”
“Then do it.”
“Do you care anymore?”
HE DOESNT. HE REALLY DOESNT GIVE A SHIT BECAUSE HE’S SO FUCKING HAPPY WITH STAN.
The biggest smile breaks out on the curly haired jewish boys face oh my GOD
As requested by anonymous: HIII! Okay, so I love how you write Bucky sooo i was thinking can you maybe write a fic based on the song cheerleader where all these girls tryna get at him but he doesnt want them cause he’s with you and yeah. Sorry that seems too much. If yo cant do it, thanks anyway!! I love your blog!
A/N: I’m slowly getting through my requests…
Friday night football games are part of the high school experience. The thrill of the game, the half time shows, your friends and classmates cheering on for your school team. All of it was surreal.
You were the water girl for your school’s football team. Many thought it was a loser’s job, but you didn’t care. Wherever the team went, you went with them and you were okay with that. Why? So you could be around your boyfriend and quarterback of the football team, Bucky Barnes.
“Y/N!” You snapped your head towards the voice and saw Steve jogging your way. You smiled and tossed him his water bottle. He smiled, “Thanks!” He sat down on the bench next to you.
“So how is he?” You ask.
“Aren’t you watching the game?”
You roll your eyes at him, “Yes, but you’re out there with him.”
Steve wrapped a sweaty are around you, “Your boy’s fine. Calm down.”
You peeled his arm off you, “Okay, gross!”
“You know you love it!” Steve tried hugging you, but you tried pushing him away, “Ew! Steve! Stop it!”
You both stop to see Bucky walking towards the both of you. He had a playful smirk, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to make a move on my girlfriend.” He gave his best friend a playful nudge.
Steve chuckled, “You know I mean nothing by it, Buck.”
Bucky came in between you and Steve and wrapped an arm around you. He looked you up and down smiling, “Have I told you how cute you look wearing my jersey?”
“Many times, babe.” You kissed his cheek.
It was the last quarter of the game. A thirty seconds left on the board your team and the rival team was tied 89 to 89. Steve had the ball.
“Steve!!” Bucky yelled.
Steve threw it towards the endzone. Bucky ran for it. Time stood still.
“GO BUCKY! YOU CAN DO IT, BABY!!” Bucky heard you yell. He smiled as he sprinted towards the endzone. He dove.
The buzzer filled everyone’s ears and….
“TOUCHDOWN BY BARNES!!!” Everyone erupted into cheers and applause.
“YES! WOOHOO! GO BUCKY!!!” You yelled from the benches.
You watched as your boyfriend threw the ball on the ground and lifted his arms into victory. The team ran towards him hugging him and patting him on the head.
You decided not to join them since there were far too many people. You’ll just see Bucky later. You decided to start cleaning up the area letting the team celebrate.
Eventually, they started making their way towards you.
“See, your boy’s fine. He did good.” Steve said ruffling your hair.
You slapped his hand away, “’Scuse you, he did great.”
Steve scoffed, “You two really do belong together. You boost his ego so much.” You smiled and shrugged.
Bucky started his making his way towards you, but he was stopped by the head cheerleader, Dolores, or as she liked to be called, Dot, “Hey, Barnes. Nice score there.”
He smiled sheepishly, “Uh, thanks, Dot.”
“So,” she trailed her fingers along his shoulder, “Wanna score another tonight?”
“Uh, no thanks, Dot. You know I’m with Y/N.”
Bucky tried to walk away but she stood in front of him, “Don’t you think I’m pretty? C’mon, what Y/N doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
Bucky was going to answer but he stopped when he heard your laughter. His eyes went towards you, you were laughing with Steve and Sam. He smiled and looked at Dot, “I’m sorry, Dot, but I’m not that kind of guy.”
She stomped her foot on the turf, “But I’m the head cheerleader and you’re the star quarterback! We’re meant for each other!”
Bucky moved her aside, “I already got a cheerleader!” He ran towards you, Sam, and Steve. When he approached you, he picked you up and spun you around.
You laughed, “Congrats, quarterback!”
He set you down and kissed you on the lips, “Couldn’t do it without my personal cheerleader and lucky charm.”
Steve pretended to gag, “And you say Peg and I are bad.”
Out of nowhere, cold water fell upon the both of you. You and Bucky yelled in surprise. The team erupted into laughter and then threw towels at the both of you.
You frowned, but then a smile peaked, “You guys suck.”
Bucky chuckled, “They just love you, that’s all. And so do I.”
“Get a room!”
Bucky’s team members hollered as they gathered their stuff and headed for the locker room. He smiled, “Come to my house for dinner?”
“Of course.” You pecked him on the cheek and gathered your things, “Go get changed. You smell gross.”
“I love you too!” Bucky hollered as he watched you walk towards the locker rooms.
The One Where Marcus Loves A Cheerleader (Jeff Atkins)
Request: Maybe a smut where you’re a nerd dating Marcus and you walk in on him having sex with a cheerleader. He says that he cheated because you’re a prude who didn’t want to have sex with him. Jeff Atkins comforts you, admits his feelings and smut ensues. Later in the locker room, everyone teases Jeff asking where all his hickeys and scratches on his back came from and he looks straight into Marcus’s eyes and goes Y/N and Marcus doesn’t believe it until he sees you guys kissing in the hallway later.
“I just don’t understand why you can’t come out tonight. It’s just Bryce’s place, we’ll be there an hour, two hours max.” Marcus argues, rubbing his hand over his head in pure, unadulterated annoyance.
You take a special kind of pleasure in annoying him, and you can’t help it. He’s your boyfriend, but he’s clingy. He’s annoying.
“And I just don’t understand why you can’t go by yourself.” You retort, dry and humorless. “You keep asking, and I keep saying no. This is getting repetitive.”
“I just –” Marcus stops himself for a second, breathing in slowly. “I don’t get why you can’t study for Heitzman’s exam tomorrow night. It’s not like you’re gonna spontaneously combust if you relax for one fucking hour.”
“That’s literally – no, Marcus, that’s literally rich coming from you. ‘Relax,’ what the fuck?” You bite out with a sharp laugh. Marcus Cooley, telling you to relax. That’s a fucking joke.
“Jesus, fine. Fine, I’ll stop asking you, annoying you, whatever. It doesn’t matter, I’ll just go with the guys.” He relents, sitting himself on your couch, a thick layer of ice building between the two of you. He’s taken to acting like a petulant, whiny kid lately, and it’s exhausting.
“I’ll go to the next one Bryce has, okay?” You sigh, and Marcus gives you a curt nod. You feel your eye twitch in annoyance. “Seriously, I’ll go to the next one,” you persist, genuine this time, twisting yourself on the couch until you can lay your head on his lap. You nudge his knee. “Bitch, if you don’t answer …”
A smile cracks on his face.
“All right – but I’m holding you to that, understand?” He says, mockingly stern. “I’m gonna make you have fun if it’s the last thing I do.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
You grin when he kisses your forehead, laughing as he makes his way down to your lips. His own lips are chapped against yours, but you think you might like it.
Well, you think glumly. There are worse boyfriends to have.
It’s hours later and you’re in your room, two textbooks and three notebooks spread messily across your bed. You’re neck-deep in calculus when your phone vibrates for the umpteenth time for the night. You almost ignore it. Marcus and Sheri have been blowing up your phone for the the past hour, ranging from “bitch I know you didn’t make Marcus come by himself” to “bitch I can’t believe you actually made me come by myself.”
Tough love, you shrug to yourself. Only when your phone buzzes again do you look at it.
From: Mulholland Drive U should seriously come I’m begging. Watch ur boy make a fool outta himself he’s tryna play beer pong rn lmao
You snort. Of course he is.
To: Mulholland Drive pics or it didn’t happen
You look at your next message. The smile that slaps on your face is big enough to make you feel almost guilty.
From: JoJo The Fool where u at?
To: JoJo The Fool At my humble abode
From: JoJo The Fool I see ur boyfriend here, lookin lonely. U should stop by and join him
To: JoJo The Fool Lemme take a wild guess and say
To: JoJo The Fool u at Walker’s place
From: JoJo The Fool ding ding!! u right
From: JoJo The Fool seriously come over. bored without u. everyone’s left me
From: JoJo The Fool acknowledge me or face the consequences
You laugh, typing out a quick reply before you can help yourself. And you literally can’t help yourself. Jeff is unnaturally kind. The type of kind that makes you feel bad for not being just as kind, if not more. Disappointing him is like metaphorically kicking a dog: it’s unforgivable and you’re probably going to hate yourself afterwards.
To: JoJo The Fool needy bitch!! leave me alone lmao I’m studying for Heitzman
From: JoJo The Fool ew stop. come over and I’ll help you study later. I actually have an A in his class
You lay your phone down. You’re not going to go, you tell yourself. You need to study. You need good grades. Good grades matter in life, parties hosted by an asshole don’t.
From: JoJo The Fool guarantee I can get u white girl wasted in 30 minutes
Well, fuck it. There’s always tomorrow.
To: What’s Cooler Than Being Cool? moi petite fromage I’m coming to bryce’s now. Sheri and Jeff wore me down
To: What’s Cooler Than Being Cool? be excited I’m coming to play beer pong wit ya ass
To: What’s Cooler Than Being Cool? hullo¿
The drive to Bryce’s house is quick and fast, your temporary lust for shitty beer getting the better of you. You park relatively close, and when you arrive past the gate, you’re greeted with shouts.
It’s ridiculously crowded. The lights are bright and glimmering off of the pools, filled to the brim with over-exposed bodies. You can practically smell the over-sexed teenagers.
“You came!” Sheri shouts, and you grin, taking her extended hand and letting yourself be pulled past the pool. You stop at one of many tables piled with beer.
“Well, you missed beer pong,” she exclaims over the music, grabbing a beer bottle and setting it in your hand. “But I know Marcus went in the house about fifteen minutes ago. Probably throwing up on Bryce’s rug right about now.” She titters, and you groan.
“Jesus, maybe I shouldn’t have come after all,” you snicker, taking a heavy sip. “Designated driver, once again.”
“What happened to getting white girl wasted?” A voice comes from behind you, and you roll your eyes as Sheri quirks her brows expectantly.
“Another night, Atkins.” You say. “Tonight, I’m stone-cold sober.”
He’s smiling at you when you turn around, and you feel something in your chest tighten by about twelve notches. He leans against your shoulder and grins, sparkling and bright, like the lights against the pool.
“I thought you came for me, now I’m just dissapointed.”
“Came for the beer, stayed for the boyfriend.“ You shrug, batting your lashes playfully. “Speaking of, I have to track him down before he blows all over Bryce’s house.” You take a mournful last sip from your bottle, giving it back to Sheri.
Jeff perks from next to you. “I’ll come with you,” he sets his own bottle down. “If he’s too faded then I’ll just drive you two lovebirds home myself.”
You raise your brows. “Sober enough for that, Atkins?”
“Three beers, max. I’m a sloppy drunk, can’t have people from school seeing that.” The smile he gives you is almost infuriatingly sweet, like he’s smiling just for you, and you want – god, for a second, you wish – that you could live in this moment for just awhile longer.
If you weren’t dating Marcus, the thought pops in your head before you realize what you’re thinking. If you weren’t dating Marcus, Jeff would –
“Let’s go in the house,” you shout suddenly, almost shoving yourself out of Jeff’s reach. “To find Marcus. My boyfriend. My boyfriend, Marcus.”
“Sorry, who’s Marcus again?” Jeff looks amused, and you roll your eyes. You ignore the part of you that wants to scrub away every part of your skin that’s come into contact with him.
You say your goodbye to Sheri and march across the lawn, Jeff following behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. It feels like it’s boiling you from the inside out, and you decide to ignore that part of yourself, too.
You’re two steps into Bryce’s ridiculously large house when he takes your hand.
“Here, pretty sure he went into one of the guest rooms.” He pulls you to the left, and you try your best to ignore how sweaty your hand is. You try even harder to ignore that Jeff’s the reason why it is.
You just try to ignore.
It’s nearly empty in the house, most of the crowd outside, save for the few people lounging on the sofas and hanging at the kitchen bar. Those that are still conscious stare as you and Jeff make your way down the hall, smirks and sneers twisting their faces. You’re not entirely sure you want to know why.
The first door you knock on goes unanswered, the room empty when you open it. The next two consist of – surprise – hormonal teenage sex, which you’re only too glad to close the door on. The third isn’t any different, and you and Jeff stutter out the same apologies as the previous ones.
“God! Sorry, I’ll just, uh, leave. I’ll close the door–”
Jeff grabs your arm. “Uh,” he stops you, eyes wide and staring into the room. His face pinches in disgust seconds later, and you stop yourself from shutting the door when you realize exactly who’s in the room.
“Dude, get the hell out!” Nina Burbank shouts from the bed, breathless and moaning, but you stand there, watching your boyfriend plow into Liberty High’s head cheerleader.
“Get out! What the fu –” Marcus begins to shout. To his credit, he manages to stop himself when he looks at you.
You’re staring at them – at him, and you don’t know what to do. You’re stunned. You’re disgusted. You’re vividly imagining him being run over with your car.
You decide to settle with just staring. It’s less embarrassing than trying to stutter out your shock and anger. Luckily, Marcus manages to do that for you.
“Shit – shit! This isn’t – no, baby, I swear I didn’t mean –”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You say suddenly, and he shuts his mouth with a tight, audible snap. You don’t stutter when you speak. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Jeff is ramrod straight from behind you, and you refuse to be embarrassed that someone else is here to witness this – this entire fucking mess.
You refuse to be embarrassed for something that isn’t your fault.
“Baby, baby – this isn’t anything, I swear to God. This is nothing –” Marcus practically throws himself off of the bed, and you throw your arms out when he makes a move towards you.
“Don’t!” You shout, and he jerks back at the sound of your voice. You ignore the sharp burn of tears in your eyes, how hot they feel against your cheeks. “Seriously, get the fuck away from me. Get the fuck away from me, Marcus.”
“Baby,” he steps towards you again, his hands held out and his voice near pleading. “Let me explain. I can explain this.”
“Explain this?” You scoff, and the laugh you give is manic and empty. “What the fuck? How do you explain having sex with someone else? Are you even listening to yourself?”
“This – just listen to me. This,” Marcus gestures around the room, and he’s shouting back now. “This happened because we have nothing. You’re my girlfriend, and I love you, and we have nothing.”
You nearly choke.
“We have nothing? What – what does that even mean? Are you … oh, my god. Are you seriously using us not having sex as an excuse? What are you going to say next, that I’m a – a what? A fucking prude?”
The answer you get is silence, and you feel your face burn.
“Jesus,” you bark out. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to listen to this,” Jeff says coldly and quietly from behind you, the first he’s spoken since opening the door. Marcus turns to him and spits venom.
“Stay the fuck out of this, Atkins!” He practically hisses, and you round on him. He doesn’t get to talk to Jeff. He doesn’t get to say anything.
“Don’t talk to him like that!” You shout just as Jeff says, “Calm down, man.”
“No, seriously, why the fuck are you even here, Jeff?” Marcus questions. “Just leave! Get the fuck out, this doesn’t involve you, man!” He screams and throws his hands towards the both of you, and you jut your head back in disgust.
“I’m not listening to this,” you turn and grab Jeff by the arm. “We’re fucking leaving.”
You still hear Marcus shouting even as you walk down the hall, practically dragging Jeff with each hurried step. The last things you can manage to make out are two simple words.
“Are you okay?” Jeff asks as he pulls into your driveway, and you shake your head with a scoff.
“That can’t be a serious question right now, dude.”
“I’ll go back there and kick his ass, if you want me to.” He suggests, and you snort. You could do that yourself, if you wanted to. But you know he’s being painfully genuine now, and you can’t bring yourself to say yes, please hurt him, bring one of your baseball bats if you have to.
You can’t bring yourself to say it, because you want to do it yourself.
“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll just wait until Monday to run him over at school.” You half-joke, but it’s empty. There’s silence again for a few minutes before you decide to speak. “I just – I know I didn’t do anything wrong, but … what did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jeff says quickly, and god, you can hear the pity in his voice. “There was nothing you did that led to this. Marcus is just a – he’s just a dick.” He finishes lamely, and you laugh.
“Yeah, well, he’s definitely that. It’s just … I mean, Nina Burbank?” You question, incredulous. “I’m worth more than fucking Nina Burbank.”
Jeff’s laugh is one of surprise.
You shake your head. “No, Jeff, I’m serious. He could’ve picked anyone and he chose Nina Burbank. God knows if I ever cheated on him, I would’ve chosen someone better than her.”
“Like who?” The questions is light and airy, a joke, but that doesn’t stop you from looking at him, eyes narrowed in contemplation.
“You mind being a rebound for the night?” You ask, your laugh mirthless and dry and god, you’re such an asshole. You shouldn’t even be joking about something like that.
You expect anything but the laugh he gives back to you, his eyes bright and his smile sweet.
“Well,” he begins, and the smile on his face turns even sweeter. “If it’s any consolation, you’d be my rebound, too. You’re …” He stops. His eyes soften, and you feel your heart stutter and stop in your chest. “You’re everything.”
“Stop.” You laugh, and you’re blushing, but Jeff shakes his head.
“No, seriously, you’re … god, I shouldn’t even be saying this right now.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re someone I’ve wanted to be with for … a while. And I mean, like, a while, and I –” He forces himself to stop, swallowing heavily. “I’m just gonna stop talking now.”
Silence, again. The heat you feel in the car is sudden and rising, and you’re sure your heartbeat is audible.
“Do you want to come inside?” You ask, breathless, and no. No, you shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong, it’s too fast, it’s dirty, but you don’t care.
When Jeff says yes, you get the feeling that he doesn’t care too much either.
Your parents aren’t home, you tell Jeff, and you close your front door with a heavy bang and grab him by the collar of his shirt. Your kisses are blind and fleeting, traveling from his lips to his neck, and he stumbles to hold you against the wall leading to your kitchen.
It’s only when his hands rub over your chest do you truly realize you’re about have sex.
It’s nothing to be nervous about, you tell yourself in the midst of Jeff’s rough hands quite literally tearing your clothes off. This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, it won’t be the last. It doesn’t even have to feel good right now, you just have to feel.
None of that stops you from literally gaping in shock when you feel him against you, because oh.
Oh, holy fuck.
You know Jeff’s big – you know. But god, he’s bigger than anything you’ve ever had in your goddamn life and – holy shit. You can’t breathe, your chest heaving as he grinds himself against you, wanton and hot and excited. He whines. The heavy pressure against you is enough to have you feeling the beginning of the end, every nerve on fire and waiting for that wave of ecstasy to extinguish it.
You only burn hotter when he whispers in your ear, “I want you. Oh, my god, I want you.”
He’s smooth and hard compared to the rough wall behind you, his skin burning with every touch, coaxing himself between your legs. He get what he wants, which is exactly what you want, and he doesn’t waste time.
He pushes himself into you, slow and delicious because god, god, god, he’s thick and long and fucking perfect. It hurts you, realizing how perfect he is, and you love it.
He’s breathing just as hard as you are, teeth nipping at your shoulder, and he bites down – hard – once he’s finally balls deep.
You’re almost positive that he’s licking the bruised skin, sucking harshly as he pulls out and thrusts back in, his exhales shakey and fast. He’s got one hand pulling your hair and another hand grabbing your hip, meshing yourselves together.
The slap of skin against skin is all you can hear, all you can feel, and god, it feels unbelievable.
There’s something almost violent in the way he grabs your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. He’s going to leave bruises, you think faintly, and you smile lazily while he thrusts into you, each rough movement of his hips pushing you up and down the wall in small jolts.
You can leave bruises too.
It’s Monday and Jeff feels the scratches on his back sting as he takes his shirt off. They only vaguely hurt now, most of the cuts scabbing over and healing over the weekend. The bruises are different, though, he thinks with a smile. They’re like faded ink splotches against his skin, and he feels a twisted sort of satisfaction every time he thinks about it.
“Atkins, Jesus.” Bryce whistles once he catches a glance at Jeff’s back. “Who the hell attacked you?”
“It’s, uh, nobody.” He smiles faintly. He’s not about to say anything. Not now, when the locker room’s jam packed with every single male in Liberty High.
“Come on, Jeff,” he gets a nudge from Monty, and Zach grins from behind him. “Looks like one hell of a lay.”
“No, seriously. I’m not about to tell you guys –”
“Why not, Atkins?” Marcus’ voice overlaps his, cool and harsh, and Jeff feels his jaw lock.
He turns to look at Marcus and feels nothing but a heavy weight of disgust and anger in the pit of his belly. For a second – just a second, he swears – he fantasizes about landing a hard one right on his nose. The break would be clean and nobody would hold him back. He would probably get away with it.
He snaps out of his fantasy and sighs to himself. No. No, he wouldn’t.
So he settles for the next best thing.
“You really wanna know? Your girlfriend, Cooley.” He says, his voice loud and harsh in the locker room. It’s suddenly quiet. “Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize her handiwork.”
He slips his shirt on quickly and grabs his bag, shouldering Marcus roughly as he leaves. He ignores the sudden onslaught of jeers coming from the locker room as he walks out.
He finds you in the hallways soon enough, and he feels the smile take over his face before he can do anything to stop it. He doesn’t really want to stop it.
He grabs you by the waist and grins. “You know, I think I might have mentioned something about having an A in Heitzman’s class.”
You hum thoughtfully, pressing against him. It makes him feel warm inside. “That’s right. I think you also mentioned something about helping me study for his exam.”
You scoff. “Don’t be cute, Atkins. Doesn’t really suit you.” You lean towards him, lips soft and just barely grazing his own.
Jeff grins. He can only just barely see Marcus from the end of the hall, and he decides, yeah, the bruises covering both of your bodies are well worth the look on his face.