i like the way you smoke your cigarettes

anonymous asked:

So, I just finished Hauntingly in one go (I haven't slept in roughly 30 hours and I am so lucky that I am on vacation), and I hope you're happy to hear that I smoked through an entire pack of cigarettes and emptied an entire bottle of my favourite red wine in the process. Apart from that information there are two things I want you to know: 1. FUCK YOU my heart is in tatters and I will never recover, and 2. oh dear god. Thank you so much for writing this story, I could KISS YOU!

In one go! I’m so sorry, that sounds like a nightmare. What a way to have your vacation ruined. Your cigarettes and red wine were well spent.

1. Yes fuck me I know

2. Thank you for reading. You are loved <3

I fell asleep in an acid bath of depression that ate away my skin and burned a hole through my esophagus. People called it a suicide attempt. I skipped art for a week after that.

You found my undead corpse filling lemonade cans with vodka on the way to the bus stop that always smelled a bit too much like the cigarettes my father used to smoke,

And you stitched up my wrists with your frayed, dirty shoelaces that stained my veins with a hopelessness that spread from my fingertips to my spine.

Fast forward a month and we were torturing ourselves just to feel again. We strangled ourselves with seatbelts instead of driving off a cliff because that takes a level of commitment that neither of us had.

But I need change like you need a quick fuck. The love we wrote about in chalk got washed away by your tongue when you shoved it down her throat and was painted over by the blood dripping out my skull onto the pavement after I jumped off of your roof.

—  High School Sweethearts
Albert Camus for the Signs
  • Aries: "Deep feelings always mean more than they are capable of saying."
  • Taurus: "There is so much stubborn hope in the human heart."
  • Gemini: "That’s why I like you so much. Your heart isn’t dead."
  • Cancer: "Yes, be patient with me. My heart is heavy."
  • Leo: "Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is."
  • Virgo: "I am on your side. But you have no way of knowing it, because your heart is blind."
  • Libra: "I am strangely tired, not from having talked so much but at the mere thought of what I still have to say."
  • Scorpio: "I didn’t like having to explain to them, so I just shut up, smoked a cigarette, and looked at the sea."
  • Sagittarius: "How can it be that, linked to such suffering, her face is still the face of happiness for me?"
  • Capricorn: "Words that come from the heart are always simple."
  • Aquarius: "Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being."
  • Pisces: "I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world."
Magdalena Frackowiak’s Skin Rules
  • Firstly, don’t touch your skin, because your hands have a lot of bacteria. I also believe in always using alcohol gel on your hands, because everywhere we’re touching things.
  • When I say goodbye to someone I don’t kiss, because this also has a lot of bacteria [laughs]. Don’t kiss just anyone, that’s my advice.
  • Never try to push a pimple. If you have one, the best thing you can do is to take a pure alcohol on a Q-tip, and delicately touch it.
  • I’ll often make myself a natural mask with honey and avocado, or I’ll make a mask with oats and milk - oats are very good as a scrub to cleanse the skin. I also like pure oils - like avocado oil. I’ll warm it in my hands and rub it in.
  • When I wake up, I wash my face only with water, and I take a small towel and dab it gently.
  • In terms of products, I use Doctor Alkaitis organic moisturiser - with no perfume, no chemicals; just natural products inside. I try wherever possible to keep my skin free from chemicals day-to-day. I have an amazing herbal toner from Dr Alkaitis, but very little else.
  • I also like to make a hot bath for my skin: combine some oils and herbs and let the pores open, and then use a towel afterwards to gently dab the skin.
  • Having said that, I see Dr Colbert in New York and he has an amazing three-part treatment: the first level is basically a machine that takes away all the dirt and cleans your skin; then there’s a delicate laser that closes your pores; then the third level is an acid used like a peel. And that’s the only treatment I will do.
  • When I travel, I make sure I have a good natural moisturiser to rehydrate my skin, and once I’m on the flight I’ll put on a mask and just sleep with it on.
  • Make-up is also very important because it can clog your skin, and you don’t want your skin to be clogged. There is an Armani foundation that I use, it’s already very thin, but I’ll mix it with a little moisturiser before I apply.
  • Then vitamins, because vitamins nourish your skin from the inside out. Vitamin E, A, all the omegas, and fish oil are all very important - and also I like to eat chicken soup because it contains collagen. I eat a lot of avocado, a lot of fish, beef - because your skin is built from these oils. You need to care for the skin from inside. I can have pasta, trust me - I live in Italy. I’m not torturing myself.
  • Another thing I do, and this comes from my mother, is I sleep like this [mimes totally still, on her back, corpse pose]. You don’t want to wrinkle.
  • The other things are quite obvious. I drink a lot of water, I like hot water and lemon to clear the skin. Don’t smoke, and I don’t drink alcohol at all. I’m 30 and I have not one wrinkle, so this is why. It’s all about being very delicate with your skin and treating your skin like it’s your best friend. I say to all the young models, who are there backstage with a cigarette: “Don’t smoke!” It kills, you know, it really kills. You see that girl in 10 years and she won’t still be working, you’re like: “Wow, she changed so much,” because she destroyed herself. Don’t party too much, don’t take drugs: you get the face you deserve.
  • I like to stretch, I think it’s very important for your body, so I do yoga and pilates, but I don’t like to go to the gym and work out. I don’t have that body type. Some girls, like Izabel Goulart, have that body and look great that way, but I treat it the same way as my skin; you have to be very delicate with your body. I don’t like to have muscles, but I also don’t like to be too skinny. Sometimes I notice I got too skinny, and even my skin will suffer - maybe if I’ve been working too much - but it’s about balance.
  • I’m really proud to say I turned 30, and I’m getting so many compliments now. I’m a woman and I took care of myself.
Steadier Footing

Summary: Pretending to be drunk isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Written for @bionic-buckyb writing challenge; Prompt: “I want to make you this happy for the rest of your life.”

Bucky x Reader

Originally posted by buchanstan

He blamed the alcohol. It made his world lag, like he could see the physical seconds between when an action actually occurred and the moment of perception. He could see the faint film of fog over glassy eyes, the dull buzz of a shot of vodka or a glass of whiskey and Coke creating a screen between the person drinking it and the world around them. The room was full of people, but they were all in their own heads.

That was the thing about drunk people; they always pretend to be more sober than they are. They realize when something they’ve said sounds drunk, so they overcorrect in order to sound sober. Or something they’ve done, they do it again so it looks like they’ve been doing it on purpose all along. Everyone around them would laugh and the subject would change in another flicker of an action-to-perception beat. The room would spin as fast as those changing dialogues.

Keep reading

1. I am the whisper of the wind you hear blowing branches against your window at night
2. I am the bite of frost in winter, sending shivers down your spine and making your finger tips glow bright red
3. I am the smell of peach and vanilla in summer and the sun kissed skin of blonde blue eyed girls that taste like tequila and cheap cigarettes
4. I am that quote you see graffitied onto the boring red brick wall you pass on the way to your favourite smoke spot everyday
5. I am the cold water showers you take when you’re feeling anxious and the unnecessary smoke break you take when you’re stressed
6. I am a fallen leaf, red brown with seasonal change falling down to meet your foot on the path
7. I am a wilted, red rose growing in your garden that you’ll never pick
8. I am not her even when you want me to be, my brown eyes don’t glitter blue in the fading sunlight
9. I am fragile and strong at the same time, I am a warrior and the pain of your absence won’t break me
10. I am important no matter what, you can’t forget regardless of how hard you try. 
I meant something and I know you’ll hold onto that.
I am mine before I am ever yours. 
I am 
I am
—  dissociatingx, (I am)
Block B as the Mafia + How He Met You

|||Anon asked: After reading your Monsta X mafia reaction and the other ones, I was wondering if you could do one for Block B too|||

Zico/Woo Jiho

Originally posted by mayfifolle

  • There are many gangs in Seoul but his is definitely the worst
  • Literally 5 minutes before chaos
  • When he was little he thought about taking over the city and now he’s one of the most badass leaders out there
  • Successfully robbed a bank once, so now he does it every month, just to see if he can get caught
  • No mercy for anyone who interferes with his work

You were working at the bank when they raided it. As stubborn as you were you always got into dangerous situations. You were asked to get the money but refused to comply.

“What the fuck did you just say? Bring her here.” he told his men.

“Can you repeat that honey?” he asked taking hold of your chin.

“I said go get them yourself you fuck!” and you tried to spit him in the face but he avoided it at the last second.

“Woah! Feisty! Get her in the truck.”

Lee Taeil

Originally posted by fuck-photo-s-blog

  • Definitely not the one you should mess with.
  • His appearance may seem innocent but he’s far from that.
  • Enjoys torturing people not only for info but also for fun because on who else can you test the new weapons.
  • Has a massive truck and will run you over if you get in his way.
  • Gets a tattoo for every big, difficult but successful mission.

You didn’t know about his work because even though you two knew each other from childhood, he has become distant lately. One night he came knocking on your door all beaten up.

“Taeil! What the hell?”

“Oh yeah, I never told you. I’m in the mafia.” he laughed.

“What? How can you joke in this condition?”

“Can you help me out here. I will tell you everything later.” he said slumping down on the sofa.

B Bomb/Lee Minhyuk

Originally posted by my-galaxy-supernova

  • This one is sneaky. Really sneaky.
  • Can steal so much in a small amount of time that nobody even notices he was there.
  • Likes to play mahjong with Pyo and Ukwon. But they don’t.
  • He always cheats and it’s impossible to catch him doing that.
  • As he wins most of the time, he has been banned from a lot of casinos,, that doesn’t stop him from going to them though.
  • Loves those tiny bb bombs

He was just kicked out from the casino when he saw you standing beside the building, smoking. He came up to you and took the cigarette out of your mouth.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be smoking.” he said putting it out.

“That’s none your bussiness.”

But he ignored you and took you by the arm.

“Say, if you get me inside the casino, I could make this evening way more interesting for both of us.”

Ahn Jaehyo

Originally posted by jaehyohoe

  • Seems to be a pro at making any kind of black market deals.
  • But he’s actually not, he’s just really lucky.
  • Is pretty much lost all the time and without meaning any harm gets in a lot of trouble.
  • But also that way he made a lot of new strong allies.
  • Travels a lot around the country because of his work.

You have been making deals with him for as long as you can remember, so it didn’t bother you anymore when he called you to get him out of trouble.

“Jaehyo! What happened this time?” you asked, picking him up as he was barely able to stand.

“Wrong time, wrong place.” he smirked.

“As always. Come. I will patch you up.”

U-Kwon/Kim Yukwon

Originally posted by hikaricassio

  • Loves guns and the smell after you shoot somebody.
  • Likes to hunt his enemies, making them scared and begging for their life.
  • Even though he’s a very skilled assassin, he only takes those offers that can be of value to him as well.
  • As opposing to others, he doesn’t mind working in the daylight and can even kill somebody in a centre of a busy street.
  • Slaps Minhyuk in the face whenever he loses against him.

You worked as a guard for his target. He thought it will be easy to deal with you but you were expecting him and slammed him down on the ground.

“Okay, so I guess I will have to get serious.” he told breaking free from your grasp and pointing his gun at your head.

“Now be a good girl and tell me where my target is.”

P.O/Pyo Jihoon

Originally posted by unniesgirl

  • How did even this ball of sunshine get in the mafia I have no idea.
  • Can seem intimidating but he actually prefers talking to violence.
  • Grew up in the mafia business but ran away from his father gang because he was too strict.
  • Is very quick in knocking his opponents unconscious.
  • Then apologises to their seemingly lifeless bodies.

You were following his father’s orders to keep an eye on him. You were aware that he noticed you a couple of days ago but decided not to act on it when you felt his hand on your neck.

“Stay still. It’s more than easy for me to break it now.” he told you and you complied.

“My father doesn’t send just anyone, so you must be important. You will have to come with me.”

Park Kyung

Originally posted by alittlebitblockbbias

  • The second most important person in the gang and Jiho’s right hand
  • He may seem all nice and stuff but he’s actually been plotting to overtake Jiho’s position as the leader
  • Makes it easy for others to trust him but in reality he’s a great liar and can betray you for his own gain
  • He’s the one who finds new, secluded hideouts for the gang
  • He’s also the one who makes the plans for all the missions

He met you at a fancy party for big shots. He has been watching you all evening, so you finally decided to approach him.

“If you have something to say then do it.”

“Oh no, I was just thinking that a party like this doesn’t suit you.” he smirked.

“Is that so?”

“Here.” he said extending his hand. “Come with me. I will show you something much more interesting.”

A/N: Feel free to request more scenarios, reactions  etc. I keep up with a lot of groups, both male and female!! 😉

anonymous asked:

1 or 74 for andreil?? I love your writing so much!!

Okay fuck me up this is… I don’t think I’ve ever written a fic where they get into a fight???? This was a first, and I thank you for that. Also, I used both prompts, yay me! xD

#1 “If you had asked me to stay, I would’ve.”
#74 “I didn’t mean what I said.”

The hours between three and five in the morning are liminal. It’s a shifting from late night to early morning. It’s as dark as the night will get and the start of the sunrise. On a college campus, it’s the only two hours where everyone save the severely panicked or sleep-troubled are dead to the world.

Neil throws a small rock off of the roof and doesn’t care that it hits a car. A brand new pack of cigarettes sits next to him on the ledge, unopened. It’s been sitting there like a wound for the last thirty minutes. The wound is self-inflicted. Neil bought the pack earlier in the night, after a run didn’t clear his head. Buying the cigarettes was an impulse and a habit, but that doesn’t explain why it hurts so much. 

He might be able to breathe better if he could inhale the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. But the only calming thing his mother ever gave him is not going to fill the gaping crater in the center of his being. He aches, and he doubts it’s something burning tobacco can cure.

The door to the roof opens with the usual ruckus of rusted hinges and a frame caving in on itself. Neil doesn’t turn. Only Andrew would come looking for him here.

Keep reading

1. I am the whisper of the wind you hear blowing branches against your window at night
2. I am the bite of frost in winter, sending shivers down your spine and making your finger tips glow bright red
3. I am the smell of peach and vanilla in summer and the sun kissed skin of blonde blue eyed girls that taste like tequila and cheap cigarettes
4. I am that quote you see graffitied onto the boring red brick wall you pass on the way to your favourite smoke spot everyday
5. I am the cold water showers you take when you’re feeling anxious and the unnecessary smoke break you take when you’re stressed
6. I am a fallen leaf, red brown with seasonal change falling down to meet your foot on the path
7. I am a wilted, red rose growing in your garden that you’ll never pick
8. I am not her even when you want me to be, my brown eyes don’t glitter blue in the fading sunlight
9. I am fragile and strong at the same time, I am a warrior and the pain of your absence won’t break me
10. I am important no matter what, you can’t forget regardless of how hard you try. 
I meant something and I know you’ll hold onto that.
I am mine before I am ever yours. 
I am 
I am
—  (I am)
Cigarettes, Whiskey, Love

Note: thanks for the request! I hope you enjoy! also, I tried to make it an angst fic at 3:40am, yikes! .c

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could make a Bucky one-shot where he’s mega stubborn and refuses to quit a bad habit and include something like “I don’t care anymore cause either way I’m gonna lose you” thank you so much I love your work 

Originally posted by livvy1800

Smoke filled his lungs, the burning sensation sending a shiver down his spine along with the cold temperatures outside. He blows it out into the night, his eyes searching for someone he was positive he’d never see again. All he could think about was where he went wrong. How could he let this happen? Why couldn’t he just be with you and let himself be happy? That’s all he wanted. So why didn’t he let himself accept love? Your love.

His eyes were lifeless, his lungs full of another large inhale of smoke that clawed at his insides. Every puff he took, the orange butt lit up brightly as he held it between the lips he kissed you with just weeks before tonight. It was a bad habit that he didn’t care to quit. He was stubborn that way. But he’d take up every bad habit to numb the pain.

He didn’t care about anything anymore. Alcohol was his third bad habit, one he could drown himself in-desperately trying to drown out his mistakes and past, and his chance at a future. He wasn’t sure how it happened. Everything was fine and then one day he woke up next to the love of his life and felt like he didn’t deserve someone so beautiful and caring. 

Everything about him was destruction, he thought. How could anyone believe otherwise? You tried to make him see that he wasn’t a bad person, no matter what happened in his past. You accepted him for who he is. No more, no less. You didn’t expect him to be completely fine right off the bat, but you thought you’d at least be able to help him through his struggles and walk beside him through the long journey ahead of him. But things don’t work out how you wish them to.

Bucky dropped his nearly finished cigarette on the sidewalk, using the toe of his boot to stomp out the light. He opened the door to the bar he calls a second home as of late, the bell above ringing as he entered. It was mostly empty, given it was 10pm and it closes at midnight. Though most people preferred the club not too far down the block instead of a run-down bar.

The older man behind the counter gave Bucky a warm smile, wiping his hands on the white towel draped over his shoulder. “How ya doin’? The usual?” He asks, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. Bucky simply nodded and sat on the bar stool at the counter, watching Bernard fill his glass halfway, leaving the bottle beside it.

His eyes remained on the liquid, a deep sigh falling from his nostrils as he let his hand grasp the cup. Taking it to his lips that still had the lingering smell of smoke, he downed it in one gulp. He knew he couldn’t get drunk, but he could still feel the burn as he swallowed. That was enough for him to continue drinking.

Losing track of time, Bucky heard the bell ring on the door, signaling a customer. He didn’t dare look behind him. The gust of wind that followed the person inside let him know who was in here. Your perfume filled his nose and he forgot about everything at once. All except you. 

Bucky visibly tensed as he saw you take a seat on the bar stool next to him from the corner of his eye. It was silent for a few moments, your fingers tapping against the wood counter. Bernard walked over with a smile, greeting you. “Hello, Miss. What can I get you?” Bucky prepared himself for this moment. The moment he would hear your voice again. 

“I don’t drink.” You spoke softly, offering a small albeit forced smile. Oh how he remembers your voice so well. It jolted his heart in his chest, his blood pumping faster than ever before. Bernard nodded with the same smile and went back to cleaning up the far end of the counter, drying some glasses. 

Bucky could hear your intake of breath as you slowly tucked your hair behind your ear, a nervous tick he picked up on a few days after you two met. It feels so ancient now, thinking back to those days. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, Bucky poured himself some more. “That’s bad for you, you know.” You stated quietly, hoping you wouldn’t disturb the silence too much. 

He set the bottle back down and thought of something to say; anything. He grabbed the glass gently, swirling the liquid around inside before taking a sip. He relished the burn in his throat. “I don’t care anymore, ‘cause either way I’m gonna lose you.” His voice was rough and raspy, almost monotone.

Your heart sank in your chest, the pain was still there. Even seeing him made it hurt worse, when you thought it would help at least a little. You felt that in a way it did, but seeing him partake in bad habit making, you felt partially responsible. The evident smell of smoke let you know that alcohol consumption was not the only bad habit Bucky had picked up on.

“Why do you say that?” You asked, turning in the stool to face Bucky.  Because I already did, he thought to himself. He gulped down the rest of his drink and poured himself another glass. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked like he was having an internal battle with himself. Taking a chance and pulling courage out of thin air, you moved your hand towards Bucky and let it rest on his forearm. 

Bucky’s arm flexed under your hold, your touch sending electricity through his body. It made him feel again, something he’d lost the ability to do ever since that horrible day. He needed to get out of here, he needed to leave, to run away, flee, leave the country. But your soft whispers held him here. 

“Bucky,” His heart jolted again, catching him off guard and he felt his throat burning with emotions, “Can we talk about this?” You asked, feeling your eyes burn with tears. You missed having Bucky around. All the while you were helping him, he was helping you. You fell in love with him and you knew you’d spend the rest of your life with him if you could.

He broke your heart but you’d go through it all again if it meant you’d both share the same love for each other and those happy moments you held onto so dearly. Bucky was silent, opting to take another drink instead of answering your question. He wanted to talk about things; things that hurt him, things that bothered him, things that kept him awake at night, but he couldn’t.

Bucky slid off the bar stool and reached for his lighter in his coat pocket as he made his way to the door. You quickly followed after him, the rush of cool air hitting your face as you got outside, goosebumps biting at your skin. You watched as he pulled out a white box and your lip quivered. “Please, don’t do it.” You pleaded, your hands shook and your heart raced in your chest, the pain increasing by a tenfold.

He pulled out a cigarette and shoved the crinkled, almost empty box back in his pocket. The lighter flicked to life and he raised it to the cigarette held by those lips you loved to kiss so much, the flame lighting the butt. Bucky inhaled immediately and huffed out the smoke. Your eyes watched as a thin cloud disappeared in the wind and you held back a sob. 

“Bucky.” You tried to gain his attention, but it was no use. He stood there, taking inhale after inhale as he stared at the concrete. You took a deep breath and let your tears fall down your cheeks. “I just need to know if you love me.” You whispered, your voice sounding desperate and broken. 

A few moments passed and you thought you’d never hear his answer. Until he lifted his head and looked at the empty streets that were lit up by numerous lampposts. “I do love you, Y/N.” He breathed out, the smoke dancing around in front of him.

He willed his eyes to look over at you, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bare to see those eyes of yours that he loved looking into any chance he got. He thought about all the different ways he loved your eyes. The way they wrinkled at the corners when you’d laugh at a stupid joke he told you. The way they held such intense feelings when you two made love. The way they calmed him down during the night, soothing him from those damned nightmares. The way they watered the day he left you.

It was silent-all but the low, soft classical piano music that sounded through the bar speakers outside the door. It reminded him of when you’d play him songs you learned throughout the years. Your small fingers dancing so gracefully across the beautiful instrument; he loved it. He loved everything about you. So why couldn’t he quit you? His number one habit.

Note: I truly hope you enjoyed this. feedback is always, always welcome! .c

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the moon is so bright i can see your hair perfectly silver underneath her.
i keep biting my lip and making it bleed.

i promise to think of you under any similar circumstances even when i’m surrounded by hair colors different than yours.

i love you when you’re drunk playing fidlar in my room. i love you playing the out of tune piano in my basement.

i love you when we sit across from each other and touch foreheads, wrapping our arms around each others necks.

the moon is so bright i feel like i could write a story about the way you look when you sit on my porch and smoke a cigarette. i feel like i could write a story about how quickly adventures started crashing at our feet.

i promise i won’t find anyone like you no matter how far i travel.

i love you for who you are. weathered, crying in my bed.
bruised, sitting in the pink of your bathroom.
shining, singing in our coffee shop.
opening day by day.
i will always love you.

—  love is so much more than we think
25 Lives: Prologue

Author: @sincerelystiles
Pairing: Stiles x Reader
Word Count: 1,213

A/N: so i’ve had this idea for a while and it’s something so so different to anything i’ve ever seen or done before. i’m not sure how many parts this is going to be in, but it’s gonna get very intense and violent. in the next part you will begin to understand more and more. you will learn what y/n learns when she learns herself. anyway, i hope you enjoy & please send feedback!!

Originally posted by allpeopleareincredible


Darkness swarms over the preserve, an eerie silence setting and although it was a mid summers day, they were covered in nothing but a black fog. “Run!” The alpha howled, ushering his pack away from the Hale house and further into the preserve. The group ran furiously, jumping and hurdling over falling trees and broken branches. An ear shattering screech pierces through the fog, the pack halting mid run and staring behind them with wide eyes. “Run! Keep running!” The pack continued to run, throwing terrified glances over their shoulders and watching as the mysterious figure closed in on them. “We need to get to Stiles.” Scott roared, pushing himself to run faster. The Wiccan had vanished from behind them, her sickening body flashing before the pack as they stumble backward. “What do you want from us!?” Scott demanded an answer, his arms outstretched by his sides. Behind him hid a were-coyote, a banshee and his only beta.

Keep reading

Greaser // j.j.

A/N: here it is, the long awaited greaser!jughead imagine! let me know what you think, idk how i feel about it lol

The cigarette dangles from his mouth as he talks with his friends, his signature leather jacket residing on his shoulders as he leans against the rusty black mustang he’s somehow managed to keep running after all these years.

“Y/N,” Betty snaps her fingers in front of the girl’s face, “you’re staring again.”

“Huh?” She pulls her gaze away from the black haired boy, looking at her friends instead. “Sorry.”

Veronica smirks, pulling a binder out of her locker as she shakes her head.

“You better hope no one else sees you staring at him,” she says, “they might get the wrong idea.”

“Is there a right idea?” Betty asks, pony tail swinging in the air. “I mean, he’s a greaser for pete’s sake.”

“Oh don’t be such a snob,” Y/N says, leaning against the metal locker, “he’s still a person.”

“You’re just smitten with him,” Veronica replies, “nothing he does can be wrong in your eyes.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, glancing down at her phone to check the time.

“I gotta go, I’ll catch up with you later,” she says, waving goodbye as she turns and walks towards the front doors of the school.

She digs through her messenger bag for her headphones, barely stopping herself before she runs right into another person.

“Whoa there princess,” he says, catching her arm, “don’t want to bruise that pretty skin now do we?”

“I-I um,” she stutters, trying to clear her thoughts, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” the corner of his mouth lifts into a half smile, “glad I could be here to save you.”

“Are you insinuating that I need saving?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“I would never,” Jughead says, “I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of saving yourself, princess.”

“It’s Y/N,” she says, swallowing a bit as he smiles again.

“Oh I know,” he says, biting down on his lip slightly, “I make a habit of knowing the names of all the pretty girls in town. I’m Jughead.”

She couldn’t help the blush spreading across her cheeks, Jughead’s smirk widening when he sees.

“Need a ride home?” He asks. “I’d be happy to drive you.”

“I uh…” she pauses, shrugging, “sure, why not.”

“She may not look like much,” Jughead says, leading Y/N over to his car and opening the passenger door for her, “but the boys and I just put in a new engine the other day, so she runs like she’s ten years younger than she really is.”

Y/N smiles and gets into the car. Jughead shuts the door and slides over the hood, opening the driver’s side and stepping in, closing it behind him.

“I’ve seen you around before,” he says as he starts the car, “with those other two girls, Betty and Veronica.”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, “they’re my best friends, we’re practically inseparable.”

“They’re hot,” Jughead says casually, “probably the second and third hottest girls in school.”

“Oh really?” Y/N asks, stomach churning, “who’s the first?”

“There’s this girl named Y/N,” he says, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “she’s definitely the hottest, by a lot.”

Silence fills the car, the only sound being the engine as they continued down the street.

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” she says with a laugh, making Jughead smile.

“That’s cute,” he says, “your laugh I mean, it’s cute.”

“Thanks,” she says, unsure if that’s the proper response, “I like your beanie.”

“Thanks,” Jughead beams, “my mom made it for me.”

Y/N smiles again.

“That’s cute,” she repeats his words.

“Cigarette?” He asks, holding one between his fingers out to her.

“No thanks,” she says, “I don’t smoke.”

Jughead nods.

“Good,” he says, “it’s better that way. I’m trying to quit but…it’s harder than it looks.”

The rest of the ride is silent until Jughead pulls into Y/N’s driveway.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, “with the hot thing or whatever.”

“No it’s okay,” she smiles, “thanks for being nice.”

“I wasn’t just being nice Y/N,” he replies, “I was telling the truth.”

She feels the blush spread across her face again as she reaches down to grab her bag.

“So I’ve got this thing next weekend,” he says, “under the overpass, we’re racing some guys from across town and I was uh…I was wondering if maybe you would want to come? We could use some cheerleaders.”

“Yeah that…that sounds like fun, I’m in,” Y/N says, smiling, “what time?”

“Here, give me your phone,” Jughead replies, “I’ll text myself your number and then text you whenever I get word on the time.”

“You don’t even know the time for your own race?” Y/N asks, handing her phone to him as he rolls his eyes.

“The losers pick the time,” he responds, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “we won last time so the other guys are supposed to let us know that time by eleven am Wednesday morning.”

“Sounds complicated,” she says, taking her phone back.

“Such is life,” Jughead responds, smiling, “I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiles back, “do you mind if Betty and Veronica come? I’m sure they’d love to watch you guys race.”

“Yeah, course,” he says, nodding, “so I’ll see you at school?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek, “thanks for the ride Jughead.”

“Anytime,” he replies, “see you tomorrow.”

She watches as he pulls out of her driveway, sticking a cigarette in his mouth as he leaves.

Jughead and Y/N talk everyday since the drive home, giving Veronica and Betty even more of a reason to tease her.

“Remind me again why we’re going to this thing?” Betty asks, perched on Y/N’s bed.

“Because I said I would go,” Y/N replies, “because he asked and I said yes. You guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll come, but I have one condition,” Veronica says, sticking her head out of Y/N’s closet, “I get to pick your outfit.”

“What?” Y/N asks. “Why?”

“Reasons,” Veronica replies, shrugging, “what d'ya have to lose?”

“Sure, why not,” she says, “you’re right, I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Great!” Veronica says. “Because you’re wearing this,” she says, pulling out some clothes.

“I didn’t even know you owned something like that!” Betty says, her jaw dropping.

“I…my mom bought that for me,” Y/N shakes her head, “I totally forgot about it.”

“Well, put it on,” Veronica says, “lets see how it looks.”

“I dunno guys,” Y/N says, rocking back and forth on her heels a few minutes later, “what do you think?”

“You look amazing,” Veronica says, eyes sparkling, “like ten out of ten, absolutely incredible.”

“She’s right,” Betty says, nodding, “stunning. How do you feel?”

“I feel…” the girl pauses, collecting her thoughts as she looks in the mirror, “powerful. I like it.”

“Good,” Veronica says, standing up, “let’s get going.”

Fifteen minutes later the trio arrive at the overpass, making their way down the cement ditch to where the others gathered.

“Whoa,” Jughead hears one of his friends say, drawing his attention away from his conversation and over to the three girls coming down the hill, his jaw dropping.

“Is that Y/N?” Someone asks, whistling. “She looks hot.”

“Shut up Keith,” Jughead says sharply, swallowing as he changes his expression back into his signature smirk.

He makes his way over to her, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Well well well,” he quirks an eyebrow, “don’t you look good in leather.”

The girl blushes, a contrast to the aura she brought with her when she arrived.

“Damn Jug,” Keith says, walking up behind the boy, “you always said she was hot but I never saw it until now.”

“Shut up Kieth,” Jughead repeats, shoving the boy back a few steps, shaking his head, “sorry about him, he’s an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N smiles, rocking back and forth on her heels slightly, “I hope this is okay,” she gestures to her clothes, “V picked it out.”

“Yeah it’s…” Jughead shakes his head, “it’s perfect. You look great. I mean, you always look great but…wow.”

This girl will be the death of me, he thinks.

“Thanks,” she says, giving a slight smile, “good luck on your race today.”

“Thanks,” he smiles this time, pulling his hat off his head, “keep this safe for me, yeah?”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one giving you tokens of affection?” She asks, taking the hat in her hands.

“I consider your appearance a token of affection,” he replies smoothly, “I mean, you look incredible.”

She smiles again, looking down at her shoes before replying.

“Glad you think so,” she says, her ambience changing as she steps closer to him, “cause it’s all for you, ya know.”

Jughead swallows nervously, a habit he’s found himself developing quite rapidly when around her.

“Oh yeah,” he says with a smirk, “and why would you go through all that trouble for me, huh?”

“I heard a rumor,” she says, her hand resting on his upper arm, “that a certain Jones boy has a crush on me, felt like I should impress him.”

“Is that so,” Jughead’s throat runs dry, “a-and are his feelings re…reciprocated?”

Aren’t I supposed to be the confident one? He asks himself.

“Hmm…” she smirks, titling her head to the side, “guess he’ll have to wait and find out,” she says, placing the beanie on top of her head, “good luck on your race, Jug.”

He swallows roughly, nodding.

“Thanks,” he says, barely above a whisper.

She presses a kiss to his cheek and then takes a few steps back as she bites down on her lip, barely holding back a smile.

Jughead’s legs almost buckle under him.

“And that was?” He asks.

“Token of affection,” she says simply, her hand hanging loosely out of her back pocket, “see you later Jug.”

“Well damn,” a voice pulls Jughead from his thoughts, “ain’t she a sight. What d'ya think boys, she put out on the first or second date?”

Jughead’s throat tightens, his fist clenching as he turns around to face the idiot from the other side of town. Keith was one thing, he knew where the line was, but this guy…he was something different.

“What the hell do you want Barnes,” he sneers, “race doesn’t start for another five minutes.”

“Just admiring your girl there Jones,” the other boy replies, sticking his hands in his pockets, “pretty thing, definitely better than what they turn out on the north side of town.”

“Let’s keep the talk to the race alright,” Jughead all but growls, “leave her out of this.”

“Ooh touchy,” the boy tuts, smirking slightly, “alright, why don’t we make this a bit more interesting. Let’s race for a prize.”

“What, like pink slips?” Jughead raises an eyebrow.

“Nah, I don’t want your crap car,” the other boy scoffs, “but ya girl on the other hand…” he trails off, biting down on his lip as he looks over at Y/N, “now she’s a prize.”

“I said leave her out of it,” Jughead frowns.

“C'mon Jones,” the boy tilts his head, “you were so confident about winning, why not make it a little interesting.”

“Fine,” he says reluctantly, “whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

“Our little Y/N’s all grown up,” Veronica coos teasingly, making the other girl roll her eyes.

“I think I blacked out for like, half of that conversation,” Y/N says, shaking her head, “I felt like a completely different person.”

“And?” Betty asks, resigning her eyebrows.

“And I liked it,” Y/N says, sitting down next to her friends on the cement, “it felt…good.”

“He’s a greaser,” Betty says, swallowing, “I don’t want to sound like that person or anything, but people are gonna say things.”

“He makes you happy,” Veronica says, “he makes you feel good, that’s what matters. Not what other people think.”

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Y/N asks, looking down at the crowd of boys next to the cars.

“Who knows,” Betty says, “but I think the race is starting.”

“Do you know who that is?” Y/N asks, motioning down to the boy from the north side of town. “He keeps staring.”

“That’s Randy Barnes,” Veronica says, shaking her head, “basically, he’s trouble. Think Southside Serpents times ten.”

That’s who he’s racing?” Y/N asks, raising an eyebrow. “Yikes.”

“Pretty much,” Betty replies, “but I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. I mean, they’ve done this before, right?”

“At least once,” Y/N says as the two boys get in their respective cars, “he said something about winning last time, but I don’t know how many times he’s done this.”

“Well if he won last time we have nothing to be worried about,” Betty says, nodding, “here they go.”

The three girls watch as the boys get into their respective cars, engines revving.

“This is like a scene out of an eighties movie,” Veronica quips as they take off down the cement.

“So you and Jughead,” Betty says, “is that a thing now?”

Y/N subconsciously tugs the beanie down over her ears, shrugging.

“I dunno,” she says, “I mean…we were flirting down there and I-I think he likes me…I could see something happening. But I have no idea.”

“You guys would be cute,” Veronica says, “especially if you keep up with this new look you seem to love so much.”

“Well see,” Y/N says, watching as the cars skid around the barrel marking the end of the track.

“You better hope your boyfriend wins,” a kid none of the girls recognize says.

“Really?” Veronica asks sarcastically. “Why’s that?”

“Because if he doesn’t Randy does,” the boy says, “and if Randy wins then he gets little miss leather here, and Jones can’t do shit about it.”

“I’m sorry?” Y/N asks, tilting her head to the side.

“The two of them made a deal,” the boy explains, “winner gets you all to himself, sweetheart.”

With that, the boy walks off, leaving the trio sitting in stunned silence.

“You better hope he wins,” Betty says quietly.

“I feel sick,” Y/N whispers, shaking her head

“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Veronica says, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “he’s just looking out for you.”

“I can’t watch,” she says, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them, “tell me when it’s over.”

She hears the cars getting louder, signaling they’re coming closer. Her stomach churns, all evidence of the confident girl who showed up draining.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” she whispers, “what the hell was he thinking.”

“Hey hey hey,” Veronica says, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder blade, “he’s a smart guy, like I said, he knows what he’s doing.”

“He’s a freaking idiot,” she whispers, shaking her head.

Veronica smiles.

“You like him so much.”

“Too much.”

The race ends in a - literal - photo finish. While the kid that had been in charge of taking the photos at the end messes with his camera, Y/N makes her way down the cement to Jughead.

“Hey princess,” he smiles, leaning against his car, “tight race, huh.”

“Stakes are raised when you’re betting on someone,” she says, crossing her arms, “talked to one of Barnes’ boys, he told me what happened between the two of you before the race.”

Jughead’s smile falters.

“Look it’s not what it sounds like I p-”

“Not what it sounds like?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow. “You bet on my relationship life, that’s not okay.”

“I know, I know,” Jughead sighs, shaking his head, “I know it’s not but Barnes…he doesn’t stop. The only way to get him to stop is by winning against him and when he brought you up and how hot you looked and what he wanted to do…it’s the only way I know that I can get him to leave you alone.”

“And what were you planning on doing if you didn’t win?” Y/N asks.

“Fight, I guess,” Jughead says quietly, “anything I need to do to keep him away from you.”

Y/N’s arms drop, a sigh escaping her lips as she tugs the beanie down gently.

“You’re making it very hard not to like you, Jug,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip, “like extremely difficult.”

Jughead barely holds back the groan wanting to come out, staring at her in the leather and his beanie on her head, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

“You’re really hot,” he finally speaks, shaking his head, “like ridiculously good looking. God I like you so much.”

She smiles, looking down at her shoes.

“I really like you, Jughead,” she says, letting out a deep breath, “and I want us to try…whatever this is.”

“Yeah? Even though I’m a greaser?” He asks with a smirk.

“Especially because you’re a greaser.”

“Well isn’t that adorable,” a cold voice says from behind Y/N, making Jughead’s eyes darken slightly, “two love birds finally admit their feelings, swoon.”

“What do you want Barnes?” Jughead asks, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pulling her into his side.

“Just came to say congrats,” the boy says, “you won, you get your girl. Shame though, she’s something else.”

“I’ll see you next month,” Jughead states, raising an eyebrow as an invitation for a challenge.

“Yeah yeah,” he says, taking a few steps backwards, “I’ll text you the time.”

Y/N watches as the boy and his friends leave, smiling up at Jughead.

“Congrats Juggie,” she whispers, biting down on her bottom lip, “I’m proud of you.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Jughead replies, “okay?”

Y/N smiles slightly.


It barely takes two days for the word to spread around school, the self dubbed greaser together with the ‘new and improved’ Y/N was a topic of conversation for weeks.

“As much as I love the leather jacket and the skinny jeans,” Jughead says a few weeks later, holding both of her hands in his, “god baby, the things that skirt does to me.”

She smiles.

“Maybe I should wear it more often,” she teases.

“Don’t think I could handle that,” he teases back, pushing some hair behind her ear, “I’d explode.”

“Hmm,” she laughs, “I’d really rather not have my boyfriend exploding on me. That would be ideal.”

“So what d'ya wanna do tonight baby?” He asks. “The boys and I fixed up the seats and the ac, she runs better then ever,” he says, patting his car affectionately.

“You say that every other week,” she rolls her eyes.

“This car is the most important thing in my life,” he says, “besides you of course, princess.”

“Uh huh,” she shakes her head, “sometimes I wonder.”

“C'mere,” Jughead mumbles, pulling her closer to him.

He kisses her passionately, only pulling away when the wolf whistles from his friends interrupted the moment.

“Come on,” he says, smiling at her, “lets go home.”

anonymous asked:

Here's another prompt: fell sans react to meeting his hot next door neighbor on the surface?

(oh boi howdy do i have a weak spot for Red and him getting the hots for his potential/future s/o. bless you, sweet anon, for giving me the chance to indulge a little further in that ;) <3 )

Red decidedly did not have a death wish.

Even with Edge out for the day - no doubt chasing Undyne down or accidentally terrorizing parents when he walked up wordlessly with a lost child he found wandering in the park as he trained - Edge’s sense of smell was uncanny for a being without a nose, and would happily shout Red’s skull into the next century if he caught a whiff of smoke clinging to anything inside.

So without bothering to properly walk out of his room, Red tucked his box of cigarettes and his lighter in his shorts and teleported to the balcony.

Their apartment was a pretty nice one, all things considered - decent area too, now that monsters could legally integrate with society. He and Edge had been in agreement on holding onto an apartment for at least a little bit before deciding to set up permanently anywhere - the world was big up here, absurdly so, and even if they’d both feel more comfortable closer to the mountain, there were a lot of areas around the city to choose from. So here he was, leaning against the railing of their top-floor corner apartment balcony, with a view of the balconies in the building adjacent to them accompanying the view of the enormous wooded park they lived next to. It was a view that made him feel a little more at ease when his anxiety was acting up - he could grab a smoke, stare up at the sky, or do a little people watching alongside the next apartment building or in the shade of the park.

As he slipped his cigarette between his teeth and lit it , enjoying the late afternoon sun on his bones and the decent breeze picking up, he noticed that his foot started instinctively tapping - huh, he could hear a song now actually, coming from the next apartment building over, pretty loudly…

“All that I want
Is to wake up fine
Tell me that I’m alright -
That I ain’t gonna die.”

The cigarette almost dropped out of Red’s mouth.

“All that I want
Is a hole in the ground.
You can tell me when it’s alright
For me to come out.”

You were on the balcony closest to him in the next building over - top floor, corner apartment, probably a mere 50 feet away. You had a series of small clotheslines strung out towards one side of your balcony and had clipped up several shirts and what seemed to be a set of sheets for a bed. Next to you buzzed a small speaker, surprisingly loud for it’s clearly travel-intended size, and it played the song on as you shifted and swayed, tapping out the energetic beat of the song while you sang along and clipped up a pair of jeans and took down a few dry pieces of clothing to make further room.

“Hard times
Gonna make you wonder why you even try
Hard times
Gonna take you down and laugh when you cry
These lives-”

Your back was mostly towards Red, and stars was he grateful. He felt a bead of magic forming on his skull, and knew a bit of a flush had picked up on his face- because by Asgore’s shitty beard, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the figure you cut as you finished hanging up your laundry and spun around, your hips hitting side to side in perfect time, a mischievous grin on your face as your eyes closed and you sang along to the deceptively upbeat song.

“And I still don’t know how I even survive
Hard times,
Hard times -
And I gotta get to rock bottom-!”

Your foot stamped against the balcony floor, your arms thrown wide as you crowed the line to the sky.

Red’s soul jumped in his chest at the sight -

You were attractive as hell.

And then you made eye contact.

(continued below the cut… <3 / / mobile link)

Keep reading

Smoke. [Bucky x reader]

Request: Hey! Absolutely love you and was wondering if I could get a request based of these prompts? “She’s got tangled hair and cigarettes” “I like the look of your face when you’re yapping on about him” “I don’t wanna be your friend I wanna kiss your neck” “When I see your pyjamas I can’t stop smiling at you” Bucky X reader if you don’t mind xx

Warnings: slight angst, drinking, drunk reader, smoking (duh), one or two swear words.

A/N: my first dedication goes out to the beautiful @minervaem without whom I would not own thousandsof goats 
Also to @buckyywiththegoodhair because Nicole is a sweetheart and offers some of the best advice, and @just-some-drabbles for putting up with me and just reassuring my lame self generally 
Thank you to the all three of you for generally being awesome ahhhh i don’t know how to talk or dedicate stuff to people help

here’s my masterlist 

Originally posted by jlstreck

He often found solace in the wisps of smoke floating to the ceiling. The fashion in which it danced gracefully through the air, weaving its way down your lungs as you drew in a deep breath, inhaling greedily in the temporary high it gave you.

His eyes observed the rough tangles of your hair that carelessly cascaded down your curved back. Your fingers enclosed around a cigarette, eyes closed gently while the city continued on in the merciless manner it always did.

Your conversations were something he’d like to equate to smoke as well. It gave him peace in the restlessness, adrenaline in the pure form of adoration.

As your fingers outstretched to slowly offer him the small half burnt roll of tobacco, he made sure to notice how your mouth emerged in an imperfect circle, the exhaust falling over your lips like the remains of what used to be a powerful waterfall, now reduced to the calm flow of water from the edge of a cliff.

“Fuck him,” your voice declared sturdily, artificial tranquility seeping through your words. 

Bucky chuckled deeply, raising the cigar to his mouth, trying to push away the aching sense of happiness he achieves with those few words.

“You’re laughing now, but I’ll eventually find someone who’s good to me,” you objected, a smile taking over your face. “And you won’t be laughing then.”

Bucky elected that appropriate moment to hastily take a wind of smoke, delaying the time for his reaction.

The twinkling lights of the offices which had just been illuminated glimmered in both your irises, occasionally being disrupted by the blinking of your eyelids as the breeze blew over your heads in a flurry. 

The soft blaring noises of the cars brought him happiness as they drove, full of life, through the busy streets of New York, distracting him from the harsh real life he found himself living. He let the sounds of other people’s lives calm him down, keep him grounded. 

“God, he’s such a loser.” You snapped him out of the daze he so often found himself in when he was in the familiar setting.

He tilted his head to look at you, eyes trained on the bottle which had made its way to your hands. The second bottle shared between you two this evening.

You took a swig of the liquid, each drop assisting in forgetting everything, forgetting him.

He who was not the first of many, who had so recklessly played with everything you were sure of, everything you stood for and tore you down.

“He truly is.” Bucky nodded along with you, wanting nothing more than to clasp your hands in his and pull you through the heartbreak you so desperately tried to mask.

“But he’s a funny guy. He makes me laugh, and he doesn’t listen to me that often, but when he does, he understands. He took me to one small part of Central Park once. That was nice.” You had a smile on your face and Bucky couldn’t bring himself to hate that fellow for that particular reason. Because in the end, he did make you happy, even if it was for the shortest of time. 

“I like the look on your face when you’re yapping on about him,“ he admitted to himself but kept from you, seeing a small twinkle in your eyes which he was sure was only for the moment.

You were intoxicated, and intoxicating both. He found himself wanting to have more of you to himself, to get drunk off of the feeling of your skin contrasting his, your fingers intwined with his, but was too late in realising it.

“To be honest, he’s kind of a jerk. And he’s not a nice person. He’s trouble for me, but he still gives me a thrill, I think. I guess I like the thrill, not the relationship,” you said thoughtfully- drunk, but thoughtfully-, evoking a sense of admiration in Bucky.

“But I still love him, you know?” You sighed, gulping another bit of the magical substance which to you, seemed to drive away negative thoughts from your mind. “Which is stupid, because he doesn’t deserve me. He probably deserves a nice punch in the nose for cheating on me, but not me. He doesn’t deserve-”

Your voice cracked, sending thuds of agony to Bucky as he shifted closer to you almost automatically, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, hoping that the sad look in your eyes as you looked to the horizon would disappear.

“Don’t allow him to make you question yourself. You are worth so much more than him,” he said, almost commanded, watching as the bottle made its way to your mouth again. But he just let you do it. “If he can’t see the kindness in your heart that makes me- us love you, or the excitement in your eyes when you see something you love, then he isn’t worth keeping around.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at your folded knees, trying to process what he said.

It was silent, and he could almost feel the gears turning in your brain, the very same that induced the thoughts that you had or the ideas you spoke of.

“You said ‘me’.” Your voice was confused, accusatory.

“What?” Bucky asked, lost.

“You said ‘me’, but changed it to ‘us’. You said you love me, but then you changed it.” If you weren’t drunk off your ass, maybe you would have kept it to yourself. It wasn’t the first time Bucky was so careless with his words.

“You caught me.” He shrugged, earlier upset but now thanking the fact that this would have slipped your mind by the next morning.

“You love me?” you asked almost innocently.

“Of course I do. I’ve told you before.”

“I don’t remember,” you murmured, shifting to look at him.

His serene eyes told you nothing that you wanted to know, showing you none of the pain swimming underneath in his mind.

“You won’t remember this either.” He sighed, and you did the same, making him quirk an eyebrow at you and smile.

“Why don’t you ever say it to me then? I always thought you saw me as a friend.” He turned away from you again, looking back at the setting sun. He’s had this conversation too many times for him to want to repeat the same answer.

“I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your neck,” he sang softly instead, quoting the song he had been listening to on repeat for a week, his gaze focusing on the skyline. 

“Your lips pressed to my neck. I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.” You half-sang, half-giggled, seemingly forgetting about whatever had just been said, instead focusing on a different song.

His fingers tightened ceremoniously around your shoulders in an attempt to make sure you wouldn’t slip and fall off the edge where you both had resided. 

“Can I say something to you?” you asked, pausing momentarily to look at him.

He gave a small hum as an answer, and you took it as a yes, leaning in to whisper into his ears.

A slight chill ran down his spine as your lips ghosted over his earlobe, making him gulp nervously and force a straight face. If this was going anywhere where he wished it would go, he would have no clue how to react.

“You know,” you began sultrily, not helping his state, “when I see your pyjamas I can’t stop smiling at you. I like you in them.

Bucky stared blankly ahead, taking a moment to register what exactly you had just said. 

“Okay, come on sweetheart. I think that’s enough for today.” He spun around, trying his best to keep his voice from cracking, to hop off the ledge whilst ignoring your cries of protest.

His rough hands held yours securely as he helped you down, throwing your one arm around him to help you stagger along.

“Bucky just because I kind of love him doesn’t mean that I love him more than you,” you whispered, sighing soon after.

All he could do was smile sadly as you continued walking, the sun have gone down already, trailing with it all the words he could have confessed and feelings he could have acted upon.

In the end, all your conversations and gestures would be washed away in the morning along with the liquor because as he said, your conversations were like smoke.

And smoke was only vivacious for a brief period before it dissipated into the atmosphere, leaving no trace of even being there.


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my cousin likes to notice things about me that i don’t even notice. did you know that you hum when you’re nervous? sometimes being oblivious is the only way that i know how to be. take being clumsy for instance. i used to pick on my ex for being a klutz, always dropping drinks or tripping over things. never noticing my own mistakes, but always hers. i guess i do notice some parts of me. like how you can write until your words will no longer make you feel lonely. like how you can light cigarettes until the smoke lingers. you don’t get to be perfect, but you can accept yourself. so i’ve been accepting my imperfections for what they are and not for who i’m not. i am the people i have loved. i am the renaissance that has gone astray, burying my heart into the leftovers of ashtrays. i am the lips i have kissed, loving you made me this way. i am the people i have disappointed, growing into a better person has left my arms sore from the constant reaching, i’ve been teaching myself the piano, the keys won’t sound like yours, the jingling of your smile down memory lane, i’ll always miss you when i have no one else, i guess my flaws are still here. why yes. why yes, i do hum. the subtleties that i am, the memories that i am.
—  did you know that you hum?
Sharing Isn't Caring (Leonard x Reader)

Leonard doesn’t like how you’re getting along with the goody-two-shoes, Ray Palmer. So, he made it his business to remind you who you belonged to…


“You’re mine.”

Lacing his fingers through your hair, Leonard gently tugged your head back, forcing you to reveal the bare flesh of your neck. Lips parting slightly, his surprisingly hot, steamy breath brushed over your skin and caused you to shiver.

The familiar scent of powdered snow and cigarette smoke filling your senses, Leonard leaned in and planted his lips on your collarbone - a sensitive spot that he knew and loved all too well.

You couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling of his teeth grazing against your skin. 

“L-Leonard,” you stammered, hands gripping on your boyfriend’s arms tightly as you tried to push away. “We shouldn’t do this here. We’re in a public place and-”

“Does it look like I care?” He trailed a hot, heated tongue all around the front of your throat, along your jaw line and then all the way to the sweet spot just under your ear.

An embarrassed moan escaped from your lips as you felt him suck needlessly - so much so that you were sure to develop patches of bruises everywhere. It was something he always did to ruin you, ensure that no one else could have you.

“L-Leonard,” you whimpered once more, your head now dizzy from the intense sensations. “Why are you doing this…?”

He growled against your skin. “Don’t ever let me catch you spending time with that boy scout…”

Boy scout…? Your breath hitched, when a sudden realization dawned on you. Is he taking about Ray?

Gliding your hands up, traveling across his stomach, to his very broad chest, around his shoulders, and up his neck, you cupped his face gently. Leonard reader back obligingly, letting himself rest against your soft touch as he pinned you under his dark, intense gaze.

You swallowed.

“Are you…are you jealous?” You asked, searching.

For a moment, he didn’t respond.

Then, a sarcastic, teasing smirk appeared on his lips.

“Don’t you know my rule, ________?” He asked, just before leaning in and nuzzling against your neck, breathing in the very essence of his love. “Sharing isn’t caring, and I sure as hell don’t want to share you…”

Hour 1
I miss you. I’ve just woken up. But, you aren’t here.

Hour 2
I made us coffee. I take mine the way you do yours. Or, used to. I think.

Hour 3
It’s strange – I need to breathe and I’m having a cigarette. I panic when I remember that you aren’t with me. I know this. But, I try not to think about it.

Hour 4
I am watching the smoke. I wish I could exhale you like the smoke from my cigarette.

Hour 5
I want to cry. I don’t like telling people why you left. But, they ask. It makes me feel more flawed and empty than I am, or want to be.

Hour 6
I never smoked inside, but I can still smell the incense you used around the house. It continues to haunt me. I light every cigarette inside with the hope of not having the incense linger.

Hour 7
There’s no one to ask if I’m stressed. I take a drag, slowly. If you were here and you asked, I would say it’s you. But, you aren’t.

Hour 8
The past won’t go up in smoke. I try. I have tried, but I keep failing. Staring at the smoke.

Hour 9
Sometimes you just need someone by your side. And you trust them when they tell you that they love you. I trusted you. It meant something. And now, it’s all gone up in smoke.

Hour 10
I couldn’t finish the cigarette at first. But, I couldn’t leave things incomplete. I lit it again. It tastes like the concrete on which I put it out. Perhaps, that’s what we would be like – soulless.

Hour 11
Things come though at the eleventh hour. But, not here. Not today. All I do is wait.

Hour 12
There is no darkness, I tell myself. I fear myself now. Not the known past or the unknown future. But, I’m just lying to myself. I exhale.

Hour 13
What I do know is that even in the company of others, I feel lonely. It is then that I ask again.
I ask, for loneliness to be my friend. But, that’s not what I want. I want you here.

Hour 14
My lips sealed off from the truth. My words, my lies, my reality. I exhale, but I cannot escape.

Hour 15
The distractions, still there. The blank stares continue. Love is only a word now. I see it in other people. I hear it in others words.

Hour 16
Three a.m. again. The effects have worn off. One hour is nothing. I can feel the silence. Interrupted, by my own thoughts. I exhale.

Hour 17
You continue to evade me. I cannot help but be consumed in this madness. In your madness.

Hour 18
Can a mirror ever lie? Would it? The smoke absorbed by the mirror. Fading before my eyes. Sometimes, it’s that simple isn’t it? Just watching something disappear before your own eyes.

Hour 19
A prisoner in my own body. This need – unexplainable. Fuck, even I cannot comprehend where we broke into countless fragments.

Hour 20
I dream of the days when we did things together. Now, I just wish to be able to hear from you.  All I hold on to now are memories. Even they seem to be slipping away.

Hour 21
Too afraid to speak in this darkness. I don’t want to hear emptiness or my own voice echoing. I want to hear you whispering in my ears.

Hour 22
I exhale. Slowly. Wishing for the fire that was once us to not be extinguished. But, it was over. It was over well before the day you walked out. It was over well before I sat in silence.

Hour 23
If I knew…If I knew where it went wrong would it be different today? The cigarette twirling in my hand, waiting to be lit, knowing that it will be stubbed out.

Hour 24
Another day, another cigarette. I take you in with every breath. Only to exhale again.

—  Navin E. (24 cigarettes in 24 hours)
King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 2)

Summary: A leather jacket needs to be returned to it’s rightful owner, leading to an uncovering that isn’t at all ideal. Things are repaired. A home is found. Then, the world starts to suck again. 

Warnings: LOTS of curse words. A lot. 

Words: 4,855

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. Thank you @secretschuylersister for proof reading for me, and of course my lovely @hamilbye for letting me feature her! So far, this fic (to me) sucks a lot, but let’s try this anyway! I’ll tag the people who asked here too: @robotic-space @daveedsbra @attackonmikaelson @pearltheartist

askbox | masterlist

Morning broke with a harsh light. The weekend beckoned you back to bed with warm hands but the sun that shone insistently through the window was too bright to let you rest peacefully. Feeling, as always, as if you hadn’t slept enough, you trudged down the stairs to arrive to two lovely conclusions: the first being that you had slept all the way till one in the afternoon, and the second being that Nat had too.

Keep reading

You were about to leave Elizabeth’s room to go out and take yourself shopping. As you opened the door to leave, Elizabeth stops you to hand you her credit card. “Go buy yourself something nice, love.” She gives you a kiss on the forehead and you make your way to the elevator.

James being the ghost that he is, he suddenly appears next to Elizabeth as they both watch you walk away. “I am not aware if she has informed you, but I am having her for dinner. She will choose me, Elizabeth.”

“Oh please, James. I can give her eternal life. I can take her anywhere she wants. Tell me, what do you offer?” Elizabeth says as she’s lighting a cigarette.

“This hotel can be hers. I have people that will cater to her every need. I must have her! If you do not let me have her, see to it that I will have you killed.” James gives Elizabeth an evil grin.

Elizabeth was definitely annoyed about James threatening to kill her if she doesn’t let him have you, looking at him in disgust.

Instead of responding back to his remark, she blows the cigarette smoke in James’ face and walks away.

You felt so special having a beautiful woman like The Countess and a handsome man like James fight over your love. They’re both powerful and strong willed people, which is a quality you look for in a lover. They can give you whatever you want in their own way and you can see that they both care for you deeply. They’re both willing to give you the world. No matter who you choose, you have the choice to be with that person forever. Making a decision will not be an easy one to make.