Magcon/Omaha Imagines

Smoking Kills | J.G.

I tried to do a bad boy imagine haha

Smoking Kills / Jack G.

'There he is,' I thought dreamily. My head was rested on my balled fist, gazing up at him. He was definitely out of my league; so different from me: the good girl who seat, rarely ever getting into trouble.

Jack Gilinsky. He was the school's bad boy. Always late, didn't care about much. He never went anywhere without his black leather jacket and the cigarette sitting between his teeth. Despite the smoking, his straight teeth were a pearly white, a glimmer shining off of them like in a cartoon. He has these dreamy chocolate eyes, which you could only see when the teachers literally pulled his black RayBans off of his face. He had tanned skin and a chiseled jaw that was to die for.

My friends (like a lot of others) didn't like him; they saw him as a bad influence. But they weren't any better, talking about somebody they didn't even know. They would think I'd lost my mind if they knew what I thought about him.

"Mr. Gilinsky," my calculus teacher spoke, breaking me from my thoughts. His old man lips pursed together, bushy eyebrows shrugged together. Angry, but what's new between the pair. "Lovely for you to show up, with a remarkable new time of twenty-five minutes left of class. Please, take a seat."

"Thanks, Mr. P!" He smiled joyfully.

I stifled a laugh, hiding my grinning lips with my pencil. He took the seat next to me. He kicked his feet up on a kid's seat, who was sitting in front of him. Jack looked to me, flashing his award winning smile.

"I see that smile you're hiding. But hey, I get it! I am pretty hot!" Gilinsky winked. He threw his arms behind his head, getting as comfortable as possible in the rickety old school desks.

I flushed a deep red, trying not to say anything.

"Wanna skip class?" He pestered. "Like, let's just get up and leave, maybe have a smoke."

"No," I stated simply.

"Why?"

"Because."

"What's wrong with you? Why are you so up tight?"

"I'm not, and smoking kills."

"Yeah you are. It's kind of annoying, actually."

"Wow, Jack, I'm so sorry! How would I ever know what being annoyed feels like." I snapped back, my glare became intense as I stared him down.

"She speaks!" He yelled, his arms flailing.

"Gilinsky! Be quiet!" Seethed Mr. Phillips.

"Nah, I'm good!" He winked at the teacher.

"Mr. Gilinsky, how would you like getting kicked out of my classroom?" Quizzed Mr. Phillips.

"It's my dream!" Jack yelled with a slight grin approaching his face.

"Get out!" Screamed the old man. His face boiled, making him look like Santa with his white beard. His pudgy finger pointed to the door.

He smiled broadly as he got up from his desk. The teacher only managed him for twenty minutes, and boy it seemed like a record. Jack looked. At me and said,

"Meet me in the parking lot when you get out."

Leaving it at that, he almost skipped to the door. I watched his muscular frame turn and blow me a kiss before leaving. His eye formed a wink at me, my heart pounding out of my chest. My palms became clammy, my head spinning. Why does he want to see me?

--

"Ah, well if it isn't (y/n)! I figured you wouldn't show!" Spoke Gilinsky, sitting on the roof of his jeep. Once he realized I was actually going to tag along, he put his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot. Dr. Martins, I might add; too much money to be putting out cigarettes on. He had taken off his leather jacket for once. He was now wearing a nice, black button up shirt, which I'm sure covered up tattoos. He left on his dark skinny jeans. He looked good when he cleaned up.