#John Weed

[kalivodas]

listen i just had to i have such a fundamental feeling for that bear of a man

part 1

warnings p in v nasty nasty talk he calls you kiddo but come on now

IT’S YOUR FAULT. at least that’s what he tells you, coos into your ear as the wet of his mouth finds refuge against your throat. his beard tickles, but his tongue sears.

“you started it, kid,” he grumbles to the fever-ridden air between you. his truck was hot, fog pilled on the windows. (jesus, you were fucking in the parking lot of a home goods.)

he places a palm on your back, arches it up nice and pretty for him, and teases the head of his cock against you. you hear his breath hitch when he meets nothing but wetness.

“please,” you whine, and you feel goosebumps prick your skin at the rawness of your voice.

“beg for it, lovie,” he urges.

your hips buck, grinding into him aimlessly as he pulls away from you. a man who would stick his dick in you in the back of a shopping plaza, but a man with restraint, nonetheless.

somewhere between the high-pitched whimpers of oh, fuck you and god, please please please just put it in and fuck me, john, please baby, need you bad (it was absolutely this one), he bottoms out inside you.

you feel his hips shutter against you. your lungs fall empty, a pathetic, breathless thing falling from your mouth. when you find your air, catch his cock in a vice, he completely draws from you.

“stop being mean,” you grit, bite at him, and your back heaves when his teeth sink into your shoulder.

he grins. you feel it. “why dontcha’ just be quiet honey? just-“ he jams his length into you, face splits impossibly when he hears a squelch. “let her talk for a little bit, shut that pretty fucking mouth.”

before you get to rebuttal, or a form a decent thought in the mush that was your head, his palm finds the fat of your hip. he squeezes there, hums when you whine, and places a hefty palm on your ass. he lets the other hand snake around, enveloping your mouth.

“fat babies, huh?” his pelvis all but snaps against you, and you bite against his hand when his balls slap your clit. he feels you squeeze him, like a fucking vice, he says, and one of his hands slide to your shoulders.

he pushes you down, cheek flat against the leather of his backseat, and pistons down into you like he got paid by the damn hour.

“i’ll give you a fucking baby.” his chest shudders, you swear you feel the hair of it prick your back. your bear.

“fill you the brim, jesus, i’m gonna make you a mama,” he grunts, and you can hear the brute of him shatter. his words come out slurred and broken, lungs taking in air almost viciously.

your hips lock beneath him, and you paw the hand on your mouth away. “knock me up,” you beg him. “please, gotta be— fuck, gotta be full.”

you’d put twenty bucks on the bet that he whimpered.

“i’m gonna’,” his hands find the pudge of your thighs and he tightens his fingers on you like you might slip out of them. “gonna’ make you all fat and pretty, kid.”

he cums then, hot spurts of him filling your tummy. he peels himself away from you, and has to bite away a smirk at the spent, sweaty state of the two of you.

“no more house shopping for you, mr. price,” you coo up at him, but your body hasn’t moved. in fact, it sounds like your fighting your lungs to breathe.

he laughs. “yeah baby, that’s the problem.”

a / n dedicated to @pricegouge only ur tags awakened something

[i-mickdraw]

The esteemed Dr Jekyll and his good friend and laywer, Mr Utterson

A first look at my version of Utterson! Who I don’t draw nearly as much as I ought to

In more lore related news I like to think Jekyll would either be incredibly anti drug or be the type of man to “accidentally” over order his chemical supplies so he can make homemade recreational drugs

Over the years I found it a lot more funny to make Jekyll just the biggest stoner in his down time in an effort to keep Hyde’s voice in his head at bay so I’ve gone down the “Jekyll is a bit of a drug addict” pipeline of thought.

It also kind of just makes sense to me considering Hyde could easily be seen as a metaphor for drug use under the right lens.

[bowielit]

unfortunately it all goes back to elvis. like thank you elvis presley for making john and paul want to be cool rockstars and impress each other with lame elvis impressions and dress in tight leather pants together.

[oceantornadoo]

lavender haze (price x f!reader, explicit use of weed/smoking mention)

it was the happiest day of your life. john was on one knee, smiling and holding a ring box up to you. your smile was too big for your face. as you reached forward for him, the ground shook, causing you to look up. that wasn’t right - you were in a hellscape. the air clogged your lungs, buildings were burning and screams rang out. the cries of innocents permeated the air. john was still on his knee, smiling. a popping sound surrounded you, then he wasn’t smiling anymore. the ring lay in a pool of blood as your captain’s eyes glazed over…

“wake up, lieutenant.”

you couldn’t stop looking into john’s eyes. and where was his hat? he never went to battle without it.

“c’mon, you need to wake up.”

you could hear them coming for you. the same footsteps that killed john. they were right behind you and-

“baby please, wake up.”

you woke up with a gasp, the room pitch black around you. a lamp flicked on, casting the motel room in an eerie glow, illuminating the man next to you. your captain, decidedly and platonically just that, was a bit flustered, his hand on your back to track your breathing. “y’ were having’ a nightmare.” you nodded, sucking in greedy amounts of air into your lungs as you calmed down your body. it was routine now, waking up in the middle of the night and walking yourself off the ledge of a panic attack. unfortunately, this time had to be when you shared a bed with your captain. platonically. for the mission.

“i find a smoke helps when i can’t sleep.” he’s still here, rubbing your back in small circles. your heart jumps and you kill it with a reminder of how he fist bumps and shoulder taps the men on your team. it means nothing, he’s just being a good captain. “don’t have anything on me.” your voice is gravel, hoarse from the phantom screams in your dreams. “‘s ok. i could use a smoke too.” he drops his hand, moving to get out of the rickety mattress this establishment calls a bed. you avert your eyes at the sight of him in a casual t-shirt and boxers, willing your overactive imagination to go away. the imagination that thinks about how he’d look after a one-night stand or a casual lie-in with his lover. the one that inserts you into the fantasy.

“c’mere.” the room has a small balcony, barely enough room for two, but he gestures to you anyways as he unlocks the door. there is something in his hand, but your sleepy brain tells you it’s too small to be a cigar. odd. when you walk outside, you’re immediately met with the edge of the balcony. it’s truly standing room only. a glance to your left reveals your captain looking for threats in the night sky, finally satisfied when his shoulders drop an inch. he takes out a lighter, something with the image of a santa claus that you can imagine gaz gave him as part of his old man jokes. john raises something to his mouth. the smell is odd, not that of his regular cigars, and it takes you a second to process as you wrack your brain. “is that…weed?” he exhales in a partial laugh, restraining a cough since you ruined his proper exhale. “surprised, lieutenant?” you scoff, reaching for the joint. his fingers brush yours, the joint really too long for that to be necessary, calluses on calluses setting your body aflame. you take a hit, trying to remember how to inhale correctly as it’s been a while since you’ve smoked weed on a balcony with someone. not to mention, your captain. “big inhale, lieutenant. not just a mouth breath.” you hum as you exhale, satisfied you’re able to follow his instructions. “good girl.” he is too, apparently. you shake off any underlying message.

“can’t believe my captain smokes weed.” he takes the joint back wordlessly, fingers brushing yours again. “rarely. jus’ for nightmare occasions. never on a mission.” funny, since you're both waiting for exfil the next morning. a bit closer to a mission than you imagined he usually did. “technically, we’re still on a mission.” you were on your third hit now, time going fast when it was just you and john on this lonely balcony. “necessary exception. can’t have my best lieutenant runnin’ on an empty tank.”

you bit back a smile at his compliment. “i won’t tell ghost if you won’t.” john rewarded you with a chuckle, a deep belly laugh you’d only heard once or twice. so this is what he was like high - a man who allowed himself to have fun. you could work with that. “won’t matter. y’ve got him wrapped ‘round your finger.” a jilted gasp escaped you as you refrained from stomping your feet. “no way! if anything it’s soap since ghost calls him johnny. i couldn't get away with half of the things soap does.” the joint was almost finished and you hadn’t even realized. he offered you one last hit before putting it out on the railing. disappointment sank heavy in your stomach, a feeling that the moment was almost gone.

your captain turned to you, a string pulling you closer until you were standing under him. his eyes were red, smile lines fresh. “you look good. sorry, relaxed. i see why you smoke now.” you murmured. his hand reached out into the space between you, then dropped back down. weird for him of all people to make an uncertain move. “think soap is to ghost what you are t’ me.” this had to be a cruel trick the universe was playing on you. “you mean you’re wrapped around my finger?” he nodded slow, the weed sinking its claws into him. “you’re just high, captain.” he frowned unexpectedly. “‘s john.” oh. oh. you nodded silently. the next steps were fuzzy, a dance you’d never learned.

“what was your nightmare about?” that was not what you thought he would ask. “um. the usual. the battlefield and dying and…yeah.” this time, his hand had a direction. it raised to your hairline, tracing the skin gently as his thumb led the way down to the curve of your ear. he felt that too, seemingly enamored with the softness of your earlobe before dropping his hand completely, like it never happened.

“you said my name, before you woke up. screamed it, practically gave me a heart attack.” his eyes were questioning, burning into yours like an interrogation. “oh. yeah, it was, um. youwereinmydreamandyoudied.” you practically spit the last part out, turning your head to study the skyline instead of finding whatever was on his face. unexpectedly, the weed made you both talkative and shy, a combination you didn’t expect. maybe it was sativa. “what happened before i died?” it was like he knew what happened, even though there was no way. right? you couldn’t resist a sideways glance, tracking the open earnestness of his face. “you were…proposing.” the last word was a whisper. “which is crazy, obviously. just a stupid dream.” you cut in before he could open his mouth. there was that frown again, one he rarely directed towards you. before tonight, that was.

“like this?” there was a yearning in his voice and when you blinked, he was on one knee. somber, not smiling like in your dream. he was realer, a wrinkle here and a gray hair there. your feet took you closer until his view was your thighs. that’s when you remembered you’d gone to bed in only a t-shirt and underwear, not having packed for an extra night in a motel. the triangle of your panties peeked out from your shirt and embarrassment creeped up your skin.

“i’m sorry, this is inappropriate. i shouldn’t be dressed like this, i'm sorry, captain.” his gaze hadn’t moved. “john.” a low exhale escaped him, like you saying his name had lifted a weight from him. unlikely, but a nice visual.

“‘ve never heard you say my name.” he was still on his knees, but he moved his head until he made eye contact. “guess i never had a reason.” he tilted his head to the side. “what’s your reason now?” you were scrambling off the edge of something you couldn’t see. you didn’t know this game you were playing. “you- you told me to.” he nodded, raising back to his full height off his knee. for some reason, you were disappointed. “you’d do anything i ask you?” it was the weed, surely, that made you nod vigorously. “get on the bed, then.”

you got on the bed. could feel him vibrating behind you as you walked towards it. turning, you sat on the very edge, legs tightly pressed together. “you’re high.” he shook his head. “barely. bein’ high doesn’t make me lie, sweetheart. quite the opposite, in fact.” you had no mental energy to get into the word sweetheart. it had already warmed your belly and turned you inside out.

“i’m high.” he said nothing. “barely.” you added with a whisper. “out of excuses yet?” you spread your legs instead of answering, letting him step in between them. he bent down slowly, turning your chin to him like you were something precious, something to take his time with. the kiss was slow, both of you tasting bitter because of the weed, and it was magical. you wrapped your legs behind him until he got the message, pushing you down. he grinded into you, hard and wanting.

“i’d propose to you now, y’know. jus’ don’t carry the ring with me on missions.” it took a second for the message to get through, especially since his lips moved to your neck, biting and sucking. “there’s a, fuck john, there’s a ring?” he was leaving hickies, surely. the weed had turned him into a teenager, and you giggled at the thought. he misinterpreted your laugh, pulling back until his eyes met yours.

“you got a problem with a ring?” you whined at the loss of him on you. “no. no. c’mere.” he leaned down for a kiss and you flipped the both of you over, straddling him with ease. his hands landed on your ass, pushing you closer until you could feel his hardness. he was such a possessive kisser, biting you when you drew back for a millisecond. his scruff scratched you pleasantly and you hummed like a cat in the sun. his neck felt so delicious under your fingers and you decided to explore it, small kisses and kitten licks until he was growling.

“you wet f’ me, baby?” his tone unlocked a memory. “you called me baby earlier. when i was sleeping.” john didn’t give you an answer, staring at you expressionless. “and?” it sent you sputtering. “you can’t call women baby when they’re asleep.” there was that frown again. “‘m not callin’ women baby. ‘m callin’ you baby. because you’re mine. got a problem with that?” you shut him up with a kiss. he was infuriating.

the wetness between your thighs was concerning. your hips were grinding of their own accord, the feeling of his clothed cock between your folds addicting. the weed supplied you with confidence, fingers reaching down to move your panties to the side. he let out a groan at the feel of your bare cunt against his boxers, soaking them through.

“not fuckin’ you like this, baby. not here.” you nodded against his skin, tongue darting out to lick at the beads of sweat that hard formed. “still want to come, though.” if weed made him laugh like this, you were determined to get him high every day. his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you harder and faster against him. the angle was perfect, the contours of his body catching your clit with every grind. his eyes were open, tracking your every movement.

“john,” and he understood you completely, catching your mouth with his lips again. he tasted like yours. pressure coiled in your stomach at the thought. john was yours. “captain,” you groaned against his lips, reveling in the strained sound he let out. “gonna make me come before you do, sweetheart.” his mouth left yours, instead biting your breast over your shirt. it was too much: the sweat, the grinding, the bites he delivered with vigor. he pushed you down harder, the motion brushing your clit and sending you over the edge.

“fuck, baby.” it sounded like you both said it at the feeling of his cock leaking cum beneath his boxers, the fabric soaked both ways. time stopped as you both looked down, taking a second to take in the sight. it was absolutely carnal, the grinding without fucking. a claiming.

“‘m tired.” you whispered. neither of you had a change of clothes so you both stripped them off, reveling in the sight of your naked bodies together. he pulled you into him, tucking you under his chin as you wrapped yourself in his body heat. so strong, so capable. your hands traced his chest, tangling in his body hair, until sleep overtook you. finally, a nightmare-free sleep.

--

i have no idea what made me write this since i haven't smoked in like over a year. if my depictions of being high are inaccurate, welp. also yes i headcanon price as a smoker but very occasionally just when he's stressed

[tutoriel12]

two emotionally repressed nerds walk into a bar

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

Impossible To Get Rid Of

Sherlock has always loved animals. Dogs and bees in particular. Mycroft did not share his little brother’s fascination with the creatures. He liked to be superior and moving people around like pawns on a chessboard. Besides, he was allergic to dogs, bee stings, cats, and sentimentality. The latter diagnosis was set by Sherlock.

Even when Mycroft left his childhood home for university, way earlier than his peers, Sherlock couldn’t persuade their parents to buy a dog.

“Myc comes home during the holidays, darling,” their mother said. “I won’t have him all puffy and sneezing when he visits.”

So, Sherlock played with the neighbour’s dog, Redbeard instead. He followed the boy everywhere. They were best friends. 

***

He eventually moved out to attend uni at Cambridge, and for decades he only encountered dogs that were walked by their owners in the streets or the parks. After Redbeard’s death, Sherlock felt an emptiness in his heart, and whenever he got a glimpse of red fur, he winced.

When he moved to London and Baker Street, he realised that the dream of getting a dog was further away than ever. It would be cruel to leave an animal in the flat for hours on end when he ran around catching criminals, never knowing when he would get home. Sometimes, it took days before he returned to 221B.

***

John was by many called Sherlock’s pet, his loyal dog. They both bristled at that ludicrous assumption.

“People are idiots. None of them know you for real, not to mention what you mean to me, John” Sherlock reassured his beloved blogger when he got in a strop.

“I know, love. It’s just so presumptuous, and undignified. As if all I’m good for is – “

Sherlock stopped John’s tirade by cradling his face in his hands, kissed him deeply, and by doing so explicitly saying:

You are my everything. My conductor of light. My best friend. My lover. My soulmate. My John.

***

“You are like a weed; impossible to get rid of,” Sherlock murmured good-naturedly.

The Irish setter, Reginald, John called him Reggie, looked up at him with dark brown eyes, and wiggled his tail happily.

Sherlock had never told John that Reginald was Mycroft’s middle name. If his brother had still been alive, he would’ve scoffed at the well-established abbreviation of his name.

“Stay, Reginald. I don’t want a bee to sting your nose. Besides, you will make me trip when you walk between my feet. We both know how John will react to that, don’t we,” Sherlock said sternly.

He walked towards the beehives and made sure that the dog stayed as commanded.

A bark was the dog’s response.

“Good boy,” Sherlock praised when he returned, and scratched him behind his ears.

***

“Should I be jealous?” John asked when they sat on the sofa after dinner.

“Beg pardon,” Sherlock said and looked bemused at his husband.

“Me. Jealous. Of him,” John clarified and pointed at the bundle of mahogany coat at Sherlock’s feet. “You don’t need slippers or woollen socks as long as you’re sitting here. He’s more resistant than the weed I filled the wheelbarrow with today.”

“John,” Sherlock hummed in that way of his. “I married you and not the dog.”

“Fair point, I guess,” John grumbled, still not entirely appeased.

“I rather like it when you’re jealous, you know,” Sherlock said, lowering his voice an octave. “It makes the sex far more…dedicated than normal.”

“Are you saying I’m not dedicated on a regular basis?” John teased.

“I wouldn’t dare. In fact, you are fanatically devoted to me in every possible way; just how I prefer it.”

John’s laughter was still addictive, just as it had been all those years ago. 

Sherlock stood, reached out his hands to John, and pulled him in for a tight embrace. 

“Reginald,” he warned, when the dog started to whine. 

The dog looked over at John for support.

“Go find your bed, Reggie,” John said firmly, but not unkindly. “You can’t follow him everywhere. Sleep tight. I’ll give him back to you tomorrow.”

Reginald gave a deep sigh, tried again to get some scraps of sympathy. When none was forthcoming, he padded over to his comfortable bed by the fireplace and curled up with his stuffed bee between his paws.

“He’s such a baby,” John whispered fondly.

Sherlock hummed in agreement and led the way to the bedroom, his heart full of anticipation. John’s jealousy was still discernible…

-------------------------------------------------------------------

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[laswells-ashtray]

I think Alerudy, NikPrice and The Laswells would absolutely have a week vacation together where they can just be little freaks.

Obviously the Laswells won't be playing with the boys BUT there's no stopping Sarah from spending time with Rudy and Nik in an artisanal leather class gossiping about harnesses, collars and leashes.

Visiting dungeons and clubs as a pack of feral little deviants, not as their job titles.

Visiting a prude parade, enjoying museums and galleries as regular people!

And if Rudy gets overstimulated and asks John if his big Russian bear husband can wear out a particularly energetic vaquero, that's between them ♥️

I have been thinking about this ask all day since I received it and to convey my thoughts, I present you with this because holy fuck.

Rudy isn't sure what to make of Sarah when he first meets her because she matches Alejandro's loud and boisterous energy fairly well.

And then he sees how she wraps an arm around Kate so that anyone walking by the two lesbians is brushing against Sarah's arm instead of Kate's back because the sudden touch sets the station chief on edge and he realises, he likes this woman.

As it would turn out, Rudy, Nikolai and Sarah are one Hell of a trio when they all have a drink in them. And Sarah has no problem buying them a few rounds.

Sarah makes an offhand comment about a class that's open near their hotel that she'd been hoping to attend because she's aiming to make Kate a blue chest harness and she's met with two pairs of wide eyes as both men sit on the edge of their seats to hear more.

Rudy walks away with a collar and a belt. The collar is made to for himself, a surprise for Alejandro that night. The belt is for Alejandro to wear throughout his day because he knows that the thought of a leather belt he made with his own hands is enough to have Alejandro riled up whenever it crosses his mind and he wants to test the other man's patience.

Sarah notices and catches on to his train of thought, offering him a wink when he hands the bag it's in over to Alejandro later.

Nikolai spends far too much on an intricate leather chest harness for John while they're there but he also ends up buying a gift for Sarah, a late birthday present and a thanks for buying them all drinks. It's a simple leather band that wraps around her bicep but it's studded, something he saw her eyeing but never pick up.

Alejandro, John and Kate are a bitchy bunch. Ale and John very quickly realise that Kate has spent time in this hotel before and she won't tolerate their handsiness in front of her. That isn't a problem however because Alejandro makes up for being caught with his hand on John's ass by buying her a pack of cigarettes when she finishes her own and the three of them smoke as they wander around and talk shit about any shared names they're all familiar with.

When they stop outside a lingerie store, Kate says nothing but snubs out her cigarette and enters it. John isn't surprised, nor will he think about it too hard. When, after a moment of contemplation, Alejandro does the same and John watches him through the window as he walks directly towards black lace panties, thinks about that too hard.

Later he watches as Alejandro and Rudy exchange bags and decides in that very moment, this trip is going to put their flirting to an end and at one point or another he's going to find out how well these cowboys can ride.

At one point in time, they end up in a museum about the history of sex toys and it's a fun experience. It's only around halfway through that any of the four men realise that Kate and Sarah aren't as interested as they are and are lagging behind them.

It's Nikolai who realises the two are high. He doesn't announce it to the rest of the men, he does however procure an edible from Sarah's right pocket and forty minutes later finds himself thoroughly entertained by the history of the vibrator.

There's a shop that sells an abundance of sex toys. They approach it with varying levels of confidence.

Rudy is in and out, finds himself a leather ball gag and buys it with less than two words to the cashier.

Alejandro wanders around, looking at things shamelessly. Walks out with a cock ring, compliments the cashier on the playlist they have on through the speakers.

Nikolai takes John in with him, they leave with cuffs and a blindfold. John is confident enough to make eye contact with the cashier and say no when they offer him lube on a discount at the register. Nikolai asks if they have flavoured lube and buys the cherry kind.

When Kate enters, she buys a new vibrator, brown rope the same colour of Sarah's eyes, crotchless panties, silicone polish, accepts the discount lube and asks the cashier if there is anywhere nearby that sells good quality, thigh-high leather boots with a wide calf fit for her wife and then leaves with directions. Sarah is waiting outside with a pastry in hand and asks where they're headed next. They experience no shame. They're all on this trip to have great fun in the day and great sex at night, that's no secret.

One night, Kate and Sarah announce to the other couples that they're off to have dinner together and that they'll see everyone tomorrow morning. The polished black boots that Sarah is wearing, coming up to her mid-thigh with a dangerous heel don't escape Rudy's notice, nor does the hint of blue leather he just manages to make out under Kate's shirt. He wishes them well and ignores the loud clacking of heels as the two walk away.

Only he turns to find himself standing between Alejandro and Nikolai with John opposite him and he finds himself all too aware of the lace black panties he's wearing under his pants.

That night he watches as Nikolai enters a lift with Alejandro, the Russian's hand resting on the back of his partner's neck and recognises the distinct hip movement of an Alejandro who's trying to hide his hard-on from sight of those around him.

He doesn't spend too long thinking about it because a certain English captain and he have a date with the rooftop pool of the hotel they're staying in and a joint that he watched Nikolai slip into John's pocket. The next morning, Rudy has to grab the black panties from John's back pocket before they separate off to find their partners.

[8-rae-rae-8]

I think Gaz and Soap should split an edible and go to an aquarium

[whoreforbuckybarnes]

Secret smoking: imagine w/jj maybank x reader (fem)

You and the rest of the pogues were around the campfire that was skilfully produced by jj and John b (jj provided the lighter). You and JJ had been taking secret glances at each other throughout the night, enjoying everyone’s company but at the same time desperate for some time together.

You and JJ had always been close friends and lately the lines between friends and more than friends had been blurring: The secret glances; JJ’s teasing winks alongside a smirk; and physical contact has been becoming more common between you two. Obviously, the rest of the pogues noticed the dynamic change between you two and have attempted to get you two to talk to them about it but failed miserably.

JJ moves to sit next to you and speaks hushed so no one else hears over their own conversation, “ you wanna go on a walk? I have a blunt.” When you agree with your response of “stupid question j”, he does his signature smirk and pats your knee. You both get up and get hit with confused yet amused looks from the rest of the pogues but ignore them.

Once you both had walked away from your friends, JJ pulls out the blunt from his well loved jean pocket and a lighter. JJ puts the joint in between his pink lips that you’ve stared at many times before and hands you the lighter. He mumbles “light me up girl” you chuckle slightly and proceeded to do just as he says. He takes a drag and passes it over to you as he breathes out the addicting smoke.

You both continued to walkover to the edge of the aged planks of the pier to take a well needed seat. You both pass the blunt to each other in silence, eye contact only breaking to take in each other’s features. Neither of you don’t notice until your knees are touching that you two had gradually been moving closer to each other in every pass of the blunt.

One could consider the two of you as reasonably stoned at this point after many minutes of silent inhaling of marijuana, when suddenly the comfortable silence was broken by JJ blurting out, “you uhh… you know you’re pretty right? Like really pretty”. Your eyes widen slightly and cheeks flush slightly - only just detectable in the slight beam of the moon in the night sky.

“Yeah? Thanks JJ” I smile at him as he smiles back at me

“You know you’re not to bad yourself” you say while passing the spliff back to him and moving a small piece of his blonde hair out of his eye. JJ takes a drag and pauses before he says, “ you know everyone thinks we like each other”

“Yeah Kie and Sarah were asking me what was up with you and me” you reply. In that time you somehow had gotten closer to each other. The tension between you two was thick in the air as JJ’s hand travels up your leg to where your worn, denim shorts meet your thigh.

“What is up with you and me y/n?” He asks as he plays with the distressed threads of your shorts while still maintaining eye contact. You can’t help but notice the red hue to his baby blues.

“You’re high j” you say, not quite believing that this was happening. “So are you. Are you gonna answer my question?” He replies with a slight smirk. I exhale and admit “I don’t know. What do you think is up with us?”

JJ pauses for a while then reveals “I think I really want to kiss you right now. Looking so pretty with my blunt in between your perfect fucking lips.” You swear right then and there you stopped breathing, after a long pause of surprise you reply “great minds think alike” and the small distance between the two of you closed in an instance. Your hands found his chest as his one free hand found your throat while your lips moved against his in perfect harmony. The kiss becomes increasingly more heated as the both of you become increasingly more needy for each other.

Suddenly, You could hear footsteps and pulled away quickly to see Kiara standing at the base of the pier, mouth agape.

“Shit” JJ and you say in unison

“Guys you won’t believe what I’ve just seen!”

Hey guys this is my first imagine so sorry if it’s not that good I’ve never been good at creative writing but I’m gonna try 🩷 pls interact thank youu

Also requests are open and let me know if you want an alternate ending cuz I panicked ngl cuz I’ve never written smut but I’m down to try

[starry-eyedblog]

a few messy headcanons of smoking weed with the boys from task 141 because i'm obsessed with the idea of sharing a joint with them <3

warning/tags: weed use and smut below

johnny;

- i feel like soap gets touchy after smokin a joint, he just cannae keep his grubby paws off of you

- tells you how hot you look rolling and smokin, it just gets him so turned on. “fuck hen, ye dinnae ken fit that does to me” while trying to adjust his already half hard cock in his joggers

- cockwarming with him while high!! but he gets too needy and fucks up into you after like 10 mins cause it just feels so good

simon;

- likes to have you sat on his lap, facing him while you share a joint, one of his arms wrapped lazily around your waist

- he’ll shotgun the smoke into your mouth, likes to watch your brain go fuzzy from the weed

- slow messy make outs are an absolute must!! tongue, spit, biting at lips; all of it

- teases you for being a light weight compared to him. he finds it cute when you try smoke the same amount as him but it takes simon a lot to get high, so you always have to tap out

kyle;

- always has such a good selection of munchies, anything you crave? he already has it in the kitchen

- likes to cuddle up under a blanket with you, watching silly shows and laughing together

- but snuggling under a blanket always leads to teasing touches and before you know it, you’re giving him a slow hand job, teasing his sensitive slit with the tv show long forgotten

john;

- always puts on music when the two of you smoke a joint

- the two of you dance while giggling, unable to stay upright and on beat

- it then turns into him groping at you, grabbing at your skin as much as he can because you just feel so soft

- price likes to slide his cock down your throat and make you cockwarm him while he soaks in the high, and you love to have him in your mouth while you’re high and sleepy

[torntail]

doodle of that one john scene i still go back and watch all these years later.

does anyone else still care about ginga or is is just me

[grievetherat]

My two weed smoking girlfriends

[hopelesslonelyghost]

okay but smoking weed with gaz and soapppp

they’re the only ones who were actually down for it. john said he was too old for it and simon well, he just glared at you when you suggested it. that didn’t stop them from hanging out with you guys, claiming “well someone has to take care of you lot.”

so now here you three were, on the couch in your flat, staring at the ceiling.

“i think i got too high.”

soap grumbled from his position on the floor next to the couch, laying prone, his face stuffed in your fuzzy pink carpet. you think he got too high, too.

gaz was in the kitchen eating a sandwich simon made for him. john was sitting on the couch with you, your legs on his lap watching tv. he was massaging your calves, sending goosebumps up your legs and spine.

soap suddenly got up, stumbling a bit as he regained his balance and walked into the kitchen, “ay l.t.! can i get one too?”

you could tell he was giving simon the puppy eyes and you giggled. john let out a low chuckle.

admittedly, you were hungry too but the way you felt yourself melting into the couch was way too good for you to ruin it by getting up.

“john you’re making me fall asleep.”

the older man hummed, digging his fingers a little deeper, pulling a little moan from you. you’re sure he would’ve jumped your bones if you weren’t under the influence.

“okay i’m ready for another joint honestly.” gaz said as he came back into the living room, sandwich in hand.

you scoffed in disbelief, wobbling a little as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, turning to stare at your boyfriend, “kyle how the hell! we just finished one!”

your mouth is gaped open. how the hell is he already ready to smoke again? you plopped down onto your back once more, “gimme a bite and you might just be able to convince me.”

kyle scrambled to you, holding out his bitten sandwich. you took a big bite, nodding in bliss, “this is a fucking good sandwich si.”

“you’re just high as fuck, love. everything is fucking good right now.”

[elijahsnightlite]

sorry im so dead on here its actually unfunny. enjoy one finished piece and three doodles! i like these guysss…

ALSO. bong probably inaccurate i dont smoke sorry :/

[drinkthebones]

Lucy and the boys' first non-surprise date. Lucy tells them about Mina and Jonathan, happily married BABIES, and gets engaged.

Which is, of course, just a precursor to all of them becoming Arthur's sugar babies.

Part 1

Full Series

[adamedits]

Lord of the Rings - Well-earned comforts