weed will get you high

anonymous asked:

Could you do a Jeff Atkins imagine of being Clay's twin sister and a good player on the girls soccer team and like Monty and Bryce keep harassing you because you're good looking but you can't stand them because they're jerks and Jeff comes to you're rescue when they get aggressive because he considers Clay and you friends and most of all he likes you (and you obviously like him back)??

title: i am lying in wait

word count: 1143

note: it took me writing this fic to realize how much i actually love jeff atkins he’s a cinnamon roll can i just like……. save him……….


Most of the time, attention had never bothered you. In fact, you were used to having all eyes on you. Being one of the best players on the Liberty High girls’ soccer team had proven time and time again that having people notice you all the time just came with the skill. You could, however, discern which attention was unwanted.

High school boys, for the most part, were really fucking stupid. You’d come to this conclusion on your third day of freshman year when Bryce Walker and Justin Foley had come into school smelling of weed and obviously very high. You made a mental note to never get involved with a boy until you were out of high school and into the world of college; you changed your mind when your twin brother, Clay, introduced you to Jeff Atkins, a boy in your grade whom Clay had met in his World History class.

Three years of flirting with one another had led nowhere. It was obvious that you liked Jeff and he liked you back, but it never happened. You were too shy to say anything to him about it and he wasn’t sure if he could bring it up on his own, so there you were, stuck in an endless flirtationship.

Soccer practice was always during the same time basketball practice was, but the basketball players were always done and out before the soccer kids were. You were running defense drills when the boys showed up to sit in the bleachers that lined the field; Bryce and Montgomery were there, as usual, with those shit-eating grins ever ingrained on to their face.

“Looking good, [Name],” Bryce shouted after you.

“Hell yeah, babe! Those shorts are extra short today,” Monty added.

If your face hadn’t already been burning from the effort you were putting into today’s practice, you’d be flushed from embarrassment. Thankfully, your coach came to your rescue the first time, yelling at them to not distract her players. It kept them from making remarks for a while until she left to get some more soccer balls from the gym to practice passing.

As the remarks went on, they grew more and more aggressive. It was obvious these guys were creeps, they always had been, but it made you feel like shit when they objectified you like that. You had to focus extra hard on passing to your partner to block out the comments. Nevertheless, they persisted.

Jeff was just leaving the library, his backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder as he made his way to the soccer field. He always stayed for your practices so he could drive you home and talk with you. Tutoring with Clay was getting done just as the coach was clearing the field, telling the girls to rest up for the game that weekend. He could have sworn he’d be able to hear those sickening catcalls from two of the biggest jerks on campus from three miles away.

As the bleachers came into view, he could see you seated on the very edge of the bottom row, your head down and your eyes focused on switching into a more comfortable pair of shoes instead of your cleats. Bryce and Monty had moved to sit in the two seats above you, and it was clear you were as uncomfortable as could be. With no signs of the two stopping, Jeff approached.

“Come on, [Name], we just think you’re really sexy,” Bryce was throwing down endless nicknames that made you feel worse by the second.

“Hey, Jensen!” Jeff called, smiling brightly in your direction; he could clearly see how relieved you were when he showed up. He grew closer and you stood up, focusing your attention on him instead of the two assholes behind you in the bleachers. The baseball player wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder as he glared up at them. “These guys giving you trouble?”

“Just a little,” you said, shrinking against his side.

“Aw, come on, babe. We were just complimenting you,” Monty supplied, a sickening smirk on his face, one that mirrored the one on Bryce.

You wanted to fold in on yourself, melt into a puddle right there on the sidelines, do anything that would get you away from the two basketball players who made your life a living hell when they were around. What they said was gross, something that really shouldn’t ever be said, yet here they were, clearly making you uncomfortable.

“Listen, de la Cruz. She’s not your babe. I suggest you stop treating her like she’s some piece of meat you can have. She’s clearly uncomfortable with what you’re saying to her and it needs to stop. Learn how to treat a girl and maybe you’ll finally get one,” Jeff retorted quickly, his free hand clenching into a fist.

He didn’t even wait for them to respond; they looked dumbfounded. As they stared, Jeff grabbed your duffel bag, slung it over his other shoulder and coaxed you to his car, a sympathetic look on his face.

“Sorry if what I said back there seemed possessive or something like that,” he apologized as he tossed your bag in the back seat and opened the passenger door for you. “I just know that they’ve been harassing you for a while now and I was getting really mad about it.”

“Thanks. I didn’t have the courage to tell them to stop and even if I did, I don’t think they would have taken no for an answer.”

“It’s no problem.”

The car was silent as Jeff pulled out of the student parking lot. You turned to look at him and rested your hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Seriously. That was really nice of you to do for me.”

He didn’t turn to look at you, but you could see the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips as you spoke your second thanks. When your hand pulled away from his shoulder and you looked back to the road in front of you, his right hand reached overs to grab yours.

“It’s not right that he was calling you babe and all that. Those are reserved for, like, boyfriends.”

You raised an eyebrow and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “Really? Are you trying to tell me something, Jeff?”

The blush creeped adorably fast onto his cheeks and you giggled quietly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Am I?”

“You know, if you wanna call me nicknames like that, I’m okay with it.”

The roses bloomed an even deeper shade of red, adorning his cheeks with an adorable flush that made him look heavenly in the golden sunshine.

“Alright.”

Silence.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You think if we go to Rosie’s right now, we could consider it a first date?”

“Gonna ask me out, Atkins?”

“Maybe.”

“Finally.”