#pink joint papers

[the-blunt-diaries]

purple blazy Susan papers and a mix of orange diesel and blue gelato 🍊💙

[stonedasamartyr]

Guy Whose Way Too Stoned for the Rolling Papers to be Pink: oh shit these rolling papers are pink

[myy-facce]

#Blazysusan ambassador here!!💗 if you’re ever needing the best smoking tools and papers go to blazysusan.com and use discount code BGMEGA at checkout for 20% off your order up until dec9!

Best smoking papers in the game. 💜💨

[420aesthetics]

Buy this art.

[blazysusanofficial]

Get your S/O what they really want this Valentine's Day 💕

[canna-biswas]

my soulmate 🫰

Who would you give these joints to?

[annievrse]

shotgunning

sukuna x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: smoking, shotgunning

“don’t you dare kiss me with food in your mouth,” you squeal, leaning away from sukuna, whose arms are wrapped around you tightly.

the air is hazy in the apartment and your head lolls to the side in an attempt to avoid his mouth. the joint sukuna had fished from his back pocket disgusted you at first, but then he pulled you closer and soon his mouth was hovering over yours as he exhaled.

you hadn’t put your lips to the paper, yet you swear your head was spinning just from the sheer softness of sukuna’s touch as he gripped your waist to blow the smoke into your lungs.

“kuna!” but, of course, he doesn’t listen to you in his daze, and presses his lips to yours, his cheeks full of strawberry mochi.

you push his shoulder away, and he stands straight; his eyes are half closed, and he has a smirk on his face as he chews.

“pretty sweet, huh?” he mumbles, pressing his mouth to your forehead. “like you, hm?”

“shut up,” your voice is breathy, and when sukuna visibly swallows, you grab the longer strands of pink hair at the back of his head and pull him into you.

[mattslolita]

꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

꒰ SFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have met bambi at some house party — you was a friend of matt's, so he was only somewhat aware of your existence; real sweet and innocent, you don't know the first thing about any drugs. you're in the bathroom trying to escape the noisy atmosphere around yourself, when chris stumbles in on you, a joint hanging lazily at the edge of his lips.

"woah, can you knock next time?!"

"m'sorry didn't know anyone was in here...hey what you doin' in here, anyway? s'your friends at?"

"matt's downstairs talking to some girl, i don't know-"

"matt? you know my brother? wait, aht, i got it, know who you are, now...y'eyes, got like a uh, bambi thing goin' on, y'know? gonna call you bambi, yeah?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ never let bambi touch any drugs — he's dead set on making sure you prolong the innocence about you in that aspect.

"not even one hit? c'mon chris-"

"y'know the rules bambi, s'don't even try it. y'not takin' no hits of shit."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ chris keeps pink rolling papers, because bambi likes the color and it reminds him of your pink ribbons you wear in your ponytails.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have a specific playlist for when he takes bambi on deals with him — he's got dominic fike and marina playing throughout the car as you hum contently.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have a glove compartment full of lollies and other sweets for when you're on deals with him. the sight of bambi's lips carelessly wrapped around a cherry lolly has his mind whirling.

"got any suckers for me today?"

"y'know where to find em', doll."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ spoil bambi all the time — he's buying you clothes, perfumes, and any little thing that reminds him of you.

"this top is cute, but i don't-"

"yeah, put it in the basket."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ not have a label on your relationship — bambi's a little naive and thinks might call you his, but he's not trying to label what you have going on any time soon.

"yo, isn't she your girlfriend? she's always with you."

"girlfriend? s'not my girlfriend, nah...she's my girl though, y'get me? not datin' or no shit, jus' my girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ always have bambi sat on his lap at parties — his hand drums in the innermost flesh of your thigh as he massages you, whilst the other hand diligently distributes to the awaiting palms of people.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ mad dog the fuck out of anyone who looks at bambi the wrong way — especially when you takes you on deals, he's seething with anger when a customer gets particularly too close to you.

"nice to see you, sweetheart, hopin' i'll see you more-"

"get the fuck away from her man, or i'm knockin' ya ass out where you stand."

"chris, seriously?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ send bambi random fit checks + snaps to keep you updated when you aren't with each other. likewise, he makes you send the same back so he can keep track of where you are when he's not with you.

"new shirt, you like it?"

"it looks so good on you, baby!" ( he'd never admit baby drives him wild. )

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be affectionate to bambi in the most random ways — he's either got his arm slung around her, massaging her shoulder or he's got your legs resting atop of his own, massaging those whilst you scroll on your phone.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ always be kissing on bambi — forehead, cheek, arms, legs, anywhere he sees fit, really.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ make bambi wear his clothes when you stay the night at his place — he'll never admit that he loves the idea of having you in them, yet he can't resist the urge to smile when you're giggling sweetly about wearing them.

"i love this jersey! can i keep it baby, please?"

"y'know what, go head' sweetheart. looks good on you..."

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be extremely possessive in bed, especially if you're batting your eyelashes a little too much at a customer.

"he could never fuck you like this doll, could he?"

"f-fuck, no chris..."

"who's fuckin' pussy is this, huh? tell me who you fuckin' belong to."

"y-you, yours, fuck!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ love love love to give bambi backshots — you're at a party and he's horny? he's taking you upstairs to the bathroom, bending you over the sink.

"such a good fuckin' girl, takin' my cock like this..."

"look at yourself in the mirror while i fuck you, sweet girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ finger bambi in the passenger seat if you're getting too whiny and can't wait.

"please chris, need to feel you inside me..."

"so fuckin' impatient bambi, jus' can't wait? s'all you get, my fingers...make a mess on em' c'mon angel..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ definitely have a breeding kink — though, he knows damn well the idea of bambi getting pregnant scares him, so he keeps you with birth control.

"fuck, such a tight pussy...gon' make you a mama, yeah? wan' have my babies don't you, ma?"

"gonna look so pretty carryin' our fuckin' kids, fuck..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ love high sex with you — he's lazily thrusting up into you while you ride him, head thrown back in pure ecstasy, or

"ridin' me so well ma, look so pretty on top of me like this..."

✦ his lidded eyes watch in anticipation as you're down below on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes while you suck him off.

"gah, shit mama, makin' me feel so good...keep fuckin' goin' thas my good girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ would love doggy — when you wear those short shorts around him, all he can think about is having your ass up in the air while he's pounding into you like there's no tomorrow.

✦ love missionary, too — it's a more intimate position, but he can't help wanting to see your fucked out expression while he's deep inside you, watching your ever changing expression while you feel him deep inside of you.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be a little bad at aftercare at first, but he's slowly getting the hang of it the more time he spends with you — he's cleaning you up and massaging you after you guys finish, and ordering food for the both of you whilst he smokes a joint for himself.

( lilly's corner 💌 )

dealer!chris are my roots guys, i'm gonna start writing for him again. dealer!chris & bambi!reader are my literal babies & i hope you guys enjoy them! 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @guccifrog @fawnchives @cottoncandyswisherz

[sturnioz]

I really want a confident!reader fic bc I LOVE fratboy!chris being mean (it’s literally the best part) but I also LOVE is she is like ‘mmm no.’ But not like a bratty way yk just standing up for herself, she knows her worth

(Also shes doing a law degree so miss girl can argueeee)

"can you stop touchin' my shit?" chris glares from across the bedroom, his eyes narrowed as he watches you browse his cluttered desk. he's sprawled on his bed, fingers deftly rolling a joint with new coloured papers you insisted on having. you've always been his most difficult customer, and he doesn't bother hiding his annoyance. "didn't bring you up here so you could put your claws on everythin' — cut it out."

"mm, no." you hum, smacking your glossy lips together as you pick up a broken dab pen. disgust flashes across your face at the sticky oil that coats your fingers, and with a dismissive flick of your wrist, you drop it back onto his desk with a loud thud.

grabbing a few tissues from a nearby box, definitely used for some late night activities, you wipe your hands clean, tossing the used tissue aside like it's nothing.

"pick up your mess. now."

your gaze darts around the chaos of his room, raising an eyebrow at the scattered clothes and empty bottles. "right... 'cos a tissue on your desk is really crossing the line."

chris lets out a frustrated laugh, his tongue prodding at his cheek in irritation. "and you're really pissin' me off."

"boo-fucking-hoo — can you hurry up? i don't want to be stuck here any longer than i have to."

"you're the one who decided t'be difficult as fuck 'n want pink skins," chris scoffs, licking the edge of the paper. "not my fault you're not satisfied with what y'get.. some fuckin' spoiled brat you are."

"and yet, you still want my money." you retort, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"do you always have t'be bitchy 'n talk back?"

"why? am i hurting your feelings?" you fake a pout, relishing the way his agitation grows — his jaw tightens, nostrils flaring as he finishes rolling a few joints before shoving them into a baggy, and he holds it out to you.

you snatch it from his hand with a grin, staring at it like it's a trophy. then, with another flick of your wrist, you toss a few crumpled dollar bills in his direction, hitting him square in the face.

he huffs, tightening his grip on the bills. "thanks."

"you're so welcome," you reply, spinning around to head towards the door, the sharp clicking of your heels echoing throughout the room as you approach the exit. curling your fist around the doorknob to head back to the party, you quickly peer over your shoulder, flashing chris a sarcastic smile. "don't forget to have these ready next time, 'kay? wasting your customers' time is not good for business."

"fuck you."

"you wish, sweetheart."

[extinctionstories]

Two hundred years ago, the wetlands of Japan rustled with pink-tinged feathers. Tall, pale birds stepped carefully through reeds and iris, hunting small fish, crabs, and frogs. 

Nipponia nippon, it would be dubbed by the national ornithological society, a bird emblematic of its country. The Crested Ibis. The Toki. The Peach Flower Bird.

Marshes slowly changed to rice fields, with farmers who resented the toki for ruining crops; to kill the birds was outlawed, so children chased them from the fields, singing warnings.

The doors of the country were pried open. Laws changed. Farmers bought their first guns, their sights set on birds who were no longer protected. The toki, the red-crowned crane, and many others began to suffer. But the worst was yet to come.

Pesticides are indiscriminate killers. The poison sprayed to kill a beetle can travel up the foodchain, toppling a cascade of larger animals, or affecting their ability to reproduce. It was reckless pesticide use that nearly wiped out the Bald Eagle. In the rice fields, the peach-flower-bird had little chance. 

In 1981, Japan’s last five living toki were removed from a wild that had become too dangerous for them.

I tell a lot of sad stories here, about mistakes we’ve made and animals we’ve lost. This isn’t one of those. This is a story about one of those precious times when we were able to fix the things we’d broken. 

A joint effort between Japan & China, and the discovery of seven more birds in that country, led to a successful breeding program, which in 2008 saw the first ibises fly free again in Japan. Today, at least 5000 toki exist in the world.

The last wild-born toki, one of those captured in 1981, lived almost long enough to see her species’ return. Reaching the equivalent age of a centenarian human, she died in 2003—not of old age, but injury after throwing herself against her cage door. 

Her name was ‘Kin’. ‘Gold’. 

Mended things can never be as whole as they once were. There will always be cracks that show, weak spots that remain vulnerable. Yet, like the shining seams of a kintsugi piece, these scars speak an important truth: here is a thing that someone chose to save; handle with care.

The title of this painting is ‘Restoration’. It is gouache on 22x30 inch watercolor paper, and is part of my series 'Conservation Pieces', exploring the effort to preserve endangered birds.

[almondamaretto]

omg hihi i love how u write sooo i wanted to ask if u could write where the reader tries getting matt jealous by flirting w chris (?? optional it could be anyone else) and he eventually gets jealous and that turns into a smut 😛😛 if that even makes sense 😭 PLSPLS thank you

Attention

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: y/n gets matt’s attention by flirting with chris

Warnings: weed, smut.

IM BACK (maybe) SO EXPECT MORE SHIT (hopefully) I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I WILL BE MORE ACTIVE I PROMISE (i don’t)

like halfway proof read

✄┈┈┈┈

Wind blew through her hair as she sped down the highway, one hand loosely holding the colorful steering wheel, the other holding a joint up to her pink, glossy lips. 

The glowing warmth of the orange sun hid behind the tall trees, golden rays painting her face as she sped down the street. 

Sza's "Julia" was blasting through her speakers as she pulled up to the triplet's house, music cutting off abruptly as she cut the ignition and exited the black jeep. 

She sucked in a final hit of her joint, snuffing out the half-smoked spliff against her car and tucking it behind her ear. 

With a final tug on her black miniskirt and one last readjustment of the straps of her thong, she strutted her way up to their front door, not bothering to knock. 

climbing up the stairs, the sight of Chris sitting on the couch, legs spread wide welcomed her. Matt was sitting a few feet to his right, scrolling on his phone. Everyone else was scattered around their living room, holding separate conversations as music played lowly in the background. 

"Ayy, y/n! c'mere" a very blasted Chris exclaimed, patting the plush material of the cream couch next to him. 

Matt's head shot up at the mention of her name, eyes fixating on her scantily dressed figure as she sat right next to Chris, leaving barely any space between the two of them. His brow quirked. 

"Hey Matt!" she said, looking at him up and down. His jeans sat low on his hips, his muscle tee riding up just enough to show off the band of his Calvin Klein boxers. 

He held up a peace sign, a silver ring wrapped around his pointer and pinky finger--he shot her a flirty smirk. 

She blinked at him slowly, expecting more of a greeting. 

Rolling her eyes, she brought her knees up on the couch, resting them against Chris and looking into his eyes. 

He started to ramble, sativa taking control of his senses. 

"Y'know we were all waiting for you to get here. Matt especially. He kept asking if his outfit was good enough--and his hair, he messed with his hair way too fucking much." 

Chris grabbed a small strand of her silky hair, toying with it absentmindedly as he spoke with a raspy voice, close enough for his warm breath to raise the hairs on her neck. 

"Yeah? Well he doesn't seem to be interested now." She giggled, brushing a lock of his hair out of his face. 

"Well, that's ‘cause he wants to seem all tough. Don't tell him I told you but he's just a big pussy." He said in a hushed tone, pulling a smile from her lips. 

Y/n couldn't deny Chris' charming and dorky personality--if she were anyone else, she was sure she would be chasing after him rather than sitting on his couch leading him on. 

Matt, however, could have her chasing for miles. Everything he did seemed so intentional and suave; he was always calm and collected--he felt like a refreshing soda after a day at the beach. 

Suddenly, Chris focused on the joint sitting behind her ear. 

He stopped tugging on her hair to slither his hand behind her neck, fingers brushing her skin and creating goosebumps. He grabbed the rolled paper between two fingers, looking at it with heavy eyes and a smile. 

"Thank you, weed gods" He cheered, searching for a lighter. 

Y/n reached into her bra, pulling out a bedazzled lighter. Chris placed the lipstick-stained paper in between his lips, gazing up at y/n with hot cheeks as she brought the lighter up to the end, igniting the paper. 

Matt watched the events unfold with a clenched jaw, losing the faint grasp on his buzz. 

Y/n breathed in a large puff, closing her eyes, and letting the burning in her throat subside. she turned and crawled over to matt, removing the joint from her flavored lips and handing it to matt. 

He took two deep hits, letting the intoxicating substance flow through his anticipating lungs and into his bloodstream. She sat on her knees and watched him intently as he visibly relaxed. 

Reaching up to grab the paper again, he grasped her wrist with a firm, yet gentle grip. They sat like that for a few beats before he stood up, dragging her with him. A large hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her to his side. 

He quickly passed the drug to Chris, who tried to conceal a knowing smirk, before pulling the teasing girl into his dimly lit room, shutting the door with their combined weight pressed against it. 

"Have fun!" Chris faintly yelled. 

The sunset lamp y/n bought for Matt projected an array of warm colors along the pair, the orange light kissing y/n's face, and ethereal and angelic aura surrounding her. 

The denim in matt's jeans became more restricting, he found himself itching to free himself from the confines of the blue material. 

She held eye contact with him, pouty lips parted slightly. 

No words were exchanged, but there was an understanding. Of their shared desire; their shared need. 

His slender fingers gripped the plush skin of her hip, tracing the black elastic band of her thong. His other hand traced up her side, barely caressing the skin and sending a tingling sensation to her spine. His hand caressed the side of her neck. 

Her fingers hooked into the two front loops of his light-wash jeans, searching for somewhere to place her earnest touch. 

“P Power” by Gunna echoed throughout the house, a nice touch from Chris, the designated aux. 

Both were breathing deeply, as if they had just finished a light jog. 

It happened in an instant--she squeezed her tan thighs together, his pinky finger dipped underneath the seam of her miniskirt, and their lips clashed together with feverish haste. 

They each fought for dominance like the push and pull of the ocean. Y/n wrapped her arms around Matt's craned neck as Matt pushed the two further into the door. 

Bringing his hand to the front of her neck, he squeezed the sides of her soft skin lightly--she gasped, tugging on the baby hair at the nape of matt's neck. 

He took control of the kiss with a low groan, applying more pressure to her neck, grinning into her lips as her head fell back. He took this opportunity to start working down her jawline and neck, biting small, aggravated marks into her silky skin. 

Their chests heaved, her hardened nipples poking through the sheer fabric of her shirt and against the rough material of his worn cotton shirt. 

"Oh, fuck." She said breathlessly as his teeth found the sensitive part of her neck, working a dark mark into the flesh. 

Once he was happy with his work, he pulled away from her touch completely, nearly pulling a needy whine from her throat. 

"Fuck, you're hot." He gaped, trailing his eyes up and down her flustered figure. Her hair was messy; eyes droopy, staring at him with need. A thin layer of sweat caused her skin to glow under the sultry lighting, her thighs pressed together and hands resting at her sides. 

A wave of confidence surged through her veins, a product of the drugs in her system. She pushed herself off the door, "you have such a way with words, Matthew," she breathed out, pressing her lips to his once again. 

He sat back on his bed, tilting his head up to meet hers as she climbed onto his lap, shaky legs straddling him.  

Her hands ran back and forth through his fluffy brown hair, pulling sporadically to rouse a reaction from him. 

His hands explored her thighs and hips, each time threatening to push her skirt farther up her skin. He gripped her hips once more, lifting her slightly to lay her down on the bed, lips never disconnecting. 

Wandering hands traced underneath the thin fabric of her blouse, caressing her chest and pinching her hardened nipples, kissing them through the sheer material. 

He continued his assault down her stomach, leaving a trail of wet, needy kisses. The tips of his fingers dipped under the top of her skirt, pulling them down slowly as he left closed-mouth kisses to her hips. 

Y/n’s thin excuse for a skirt was discarded somewhere on Matt's bedroom floor, along with his shirt. 

He hovered above her lower torso, ringed fingers toying with the thin black bands. Her manicured fingers shoved his forehead gently. "Don't be a tease, Matthew." 

He planted slow, teasing kisses to the fabric of her underwear, speaking with a smooth, deep voice in between each. 

"Such a hypocrite. How would you feel if I got with one of those girls out there, huh?" He finished his sentence by pressing one final kiss to her clothed clit, watching her shudder with a grin. 

"That's hardly what happened," she breathed out, sending a pointed look to him. "You know would never get with Chris. Just wanted your attention." 

He continued to kiss down her thighs whilst gently removing her soaked-through thong. 

"Hmm. And is all this for me?" He kissed her inner thigh, centimeters away from where she needed him the most. 

"Yes, god yes. Please Matt." 

"So sweet." He finally said and wrapped his arms around her stomach, pulling her legs over his shoulders. 

His mouth attached to her bundle of nerves, tracing small shapes with his tongue. His movements dragged a long whine from her lips, manicured nails reaching to grip his hair. 

He traced his tongue up and down her core, orchestrating her audacious sounds, needing more. 

He brought his middle and ring finger up, gathering her arousal and pushing his slender fingers into her warmth. The metal of his rings pressed against her skin sending chills over her skin. 

Her noises grew in frequency and amplitude, his other hand shooting up to her mouth to muffle the loudness while he repeatedly stroked her spongey walls. 

Matt could tell she was getting close, harshly sucking her clit while continuing to trace patterns with his tongue, fingers never losing their furious pace. 

Her moans grew louder and louder despite Matt's efforts to muffle them—though he didn’t really mind, anyone who was paying attention when they left already knew what was going on. 

He continued his ministrations even as her thighs threatened to close around his head and as her hips lifted off his silk cotton sheets with overstimulation. 

When the stimulation became too much, she pulled him away from her sensitive cunt. He was as equally out of breath as her, his eyes had become droopy like hers, and his boner pressed harshly against the denim of his jeans. 

He earnestly pressed his lips against hers again, kissing her harshly and sloppily, his hands quickly working on removing their remaining clothing. 

He quickly leaned over to his dresser and searched for a condom, y/n lifting herself to rest on her elbows, peppering his chest and neck with quick kisses. 

“You have all my attention now, doll.” He muttered quietly, almost to himself. 

He slowed down, rubbing his length up and down your cunt, gathering your wetness, watching as you practically drooled at the sight of him. 

“Is this what you want?” He used his other hand to caress your jaw sweetly. 

“More than anything, please Matt.” 

He slowly pressed his length into her, letting her fully adjust to her size before beginning to thrust, slow and gentle movements quickly becoming deep and harsh. 

His enthusiasm elicited loud moans from deep within her chest, hands looking for anywhere to anchor into, landing on his freckled back, leaving raised, stinging marks all over. 

In an instant she was flipped over, and her flushed face was pressed into a plush pillow. Matt continued to drill into her, quiet groans and curses falling from his lips every few seconds. 

“So fuckin’ loud. Want everyone to know what we’re doin’ in here? Huh? You want Chris to hear how good I’m fucking you?”  

She thought was strange thinking about Chris when his brother was fucking into her like this, but the thought didn’t maintain one Matt reached around to rub her clit, mind going completely blank other than thoughts of Matt. 

Once the familiar knot started to coil in her lower stomach, she reached back to grab Matt’s wrists for more stability, her legs starting to shake as her orgasm washed over her, tears beginning to soak his silk pillowcase. 

Strong hands gripped her hips harder as she clenched around him repeatedly, causing Matt to throw his head back in pleasure and let out a sharp breath. 

“Ah, shit. Fuck!” 

He fucked them both through their climaxes, slowing his staggering thrusts and finally pulling out of her pillowy walls. He threw his condom into his trash next to his bed, before leaning over and pressing sweet kisses to y/n’s back. 

“You did so good, sweetheart. So good for me.” he praised, running his hands up and down her sides and back. 

Once she regained her strength, she flipped herself over, heaving chest lifting up and down. Her shaky hands grabbed Matt’s arm and she pulled him down next to her, snuggling into his side. 

“I think you might’ve got a little jealous in there...” 

“Yeah, ya think?” 

[the-blunt-diaries]

‘It’s cannabliss’ 🤍

[https-florals]

daydreamin' and i'm thinking of you - j.m.

summary: jj returns from a day of surfing and devotes his night to you and a lil bit of weed.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smoking weed, a lil suggestive, but mostly super fluffy and full of sweetness

author's note: back from the dead pookies!!! i just wanna say how incredibly grateful that none of yall have come for my wishy-washy ass! this year has been vcery hectic and rough, and i am so thankful y'all have let me be MIA. here's this little blurb smooch ily (i was too scared to flesh out the smut at the end IM SORRY ITS BEEN A WHILE)

JJ smells like a perfect, heady blend of sunscreen and salt when he and the boys get back from surfing. You’re waiting on the porch like a little 1950’s wife, and he runs up and hugs you as soon as he gets out of the Twinkie, acting like its been months since he’s seen you instead of a few hours.

“J!” You’re giggling as he swings you around, smacking loud kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Missed ya, pretty girl,” he murmurs into your neck.

John B slaps JJ’s back, surprising him so he lets go of you. “You literally just saw each other.” 

JJ’s jaw drops, hand over his heart like he’s been deeply wounded. “You’re just mad your woman isn’t out here to greet you,” he counters, squeezing your side and giving John B a sympathetic look.

“Wrong!’ Sarah says as she pushes open the screen door, giving her boyfriend an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek. 

John B grins back at JJ, and follows Sarah back inside. 

“You still up for that boat date later?” you ask, fingers intertwining with his.

You swear his eyes sparkle. “Um, duh!” 

A few hours later, the sun is sinking into the horizon, sky turning the prettiest pink and orange. You are toting a basket full of picnic supplies: a tupperware full of elote salad, another with some grilled chicken, a speaker, and of course, a little cellophane baggie and some rolling papers. JJ’s job is to carry the fishing poles and bait (raw hot-dogs because why would he spend money on crickets when there’s hot dogs in the fridge?), and the six-pack of mini Dr. Peppers you’ll split (JJ will inevitably drink two of your three). 

“Where are you going?” You hear someone call from inside the house, but both of you act like you can’t hear it. 

HMS Pogue is sitting pretty at the end of the dock, and you practically skip onto it. The rev of the engine is like the call of an old friend, thrumming through you, bare feet on the deck.

You sit cross legged at the bow while JJ drives, your hair flowing behind you. The spray of freshwater is perfectly refreshing. 

It’s dusk when the boat reaches a little secluded spot on the marsh, and JJ announces it. “Gorgeous,” he says, the sky purple above him. “And no one around for miles.” He plops next to you, sticking his nose in your neck and sighing. You’re sitting pretty in a bikini top and jean shorts, and he plays with the tie at your back.

You laugh and push him off, getting up to get your basket of food. He helps you unload it, mouthing a silent yes as he pulls out the sodas. Then comes the tupperware, and he sticks two spoons into the corn. “Cheers.” He holds his out.

You tap your spoon against his, and gasp in fake shock when he knocks the food of it.

“Gotta be ready, babe,” he deadpans, snatching up your bite after he eats his. “Danger is waiting at every turn.”

You shake your head and laugh, scooting the tupperware closer to yourself. “You’re so weird.”

“You love it,” He grins, and you can’t argue with that. 

After you eat, JJ pulls out the package of hotdogs and starts to prep the rods.

“There’s no way you can catch fish with those,” you question, wrinkling your nose at them. You frown, turning on the puppy-dog eyes. “Do we have to fish? I wanna smoke.”

He copies your expression and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor bunny,” he mocks, but shoves your fishing pole in your hand all the same. “Catch a fish, I’ll roll you a joint, ‘kay?”

You sigh. “ ‘Kay,” 

He grins and plants a kiss on your forehead. “You got it, babe.” He gives you a chunk of hotdog and you slip it onto the hook. JJ comes up behind you to guide your cast and you let him, his breath warm on the back of your neck. There’s the whir of the line, and the satisfying plop of the bobber in the water. 

“Now, we wait.” He takes the rod from you and drops it into the holder, and works on casting his own line. 

You’re bored before he even puts his down. “I have to catch a fish before we smoke?”

“Yeah, crybaby.” The two of you sit on the bow, feet dangling over the water. His ankle knocks against yours.

You let out another dramatic sigh, but you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “This is the worst part. I hate waiting.”

JJ laughs. “Yeah, honey. I am well aware.” He pokes your side, and you yelp dramatically. Reaching over you, he pulls the speaker out of your basket, and turns it on. You watch as he connects to it and goes through his spotify, thumb skimming over the screen as he looks through his playlists. JJ clicks on one of your collaborative playlists, titled “songs for slow dancing.”

He stands up, reaching out to pull you up as the hauntingly pretty piano intro for Aretha Franklin’s Daydreaming begins to play. “Wanna kill some time?”

You smile, and let him pull you into him. You think you could slow dance with him until you dropped dead, until you collapsed into each other and turned into intertwined fossils. Maybe that kind of thing is a little too poetic for the two of you, but you don’t really care. He starts to sing along, and you press your ear to his chest to hear his voice thrum through his chest.

daydreaming and i’m thinking of you, daydreaming and i’m thinking of you…

One of his hands splays on the small of your back, fingertips sneaked under the waist of your shorts, callused and all too soft. The other one is holding yours as you sway back and forth to the beat.He twirls you out fast, and back into his grip, your back to his chest as he squeezes you.

No one would ever know it, but JJ absolutely loves to dance. A little after you started dating, you dragged him to some swing dancing classes at the community center, and expected plenty of pushback, but you were met with absolutely none. The two of you fell in love stepping on each others toes and falling all over each other. It’s always a fun party trick to pull out at the fancier parties. He’s always wanting to dance with you, whether it’s learning how to shag in the living room late at night, or spinning you around on the boat.

He stops you mid-step, asking, “Can we try the dirty-dancing jump?”

The dirty-dancing jump has only been successfully executed by the two of you once. All other times have ended in someone being injured (usually JJ). Your jaw drops open, and you lightly shove him. “Absolutely not! You wanna fall off the boat?”

He gives you the biggest eyeroll, but immediately switches to puppy dog eyes when you cross your arms. “Just like, a lift? Pleaseeeee,” he drags out, taking your hands and acting like he’s going limp. 

“Fine! But if you drop me in this water, I’m actually going to have serious beef with you, Maybank.”

He laughs, maybe an itty-bit manaically, and grabs your waist. “Okay, I’m gonna count you off, and you’ll jump, ‘kay? So, one, two, three-”

You hear your fishing rod rattle in its holder and jump away from him. “My line!” Scrambling after it, you grab the pole right as it looks like it’s going to leap out of its holster.

“Get it babe!” JJ practically shouts, darting behind you and placing his arms around yours to give you a little support. 

The whir of the line rushing out makes you jump, and you hurry to start reeling it back in, furiously turning the handle. JJ’s mouth is by your ear as you lean into him and he talks you up as you fight the fish. “Come on, baby, you got it. Keep going, keep going, you almost got it!”

He’s pulling half the weight, you know that, but you don’t mind the help when you can watch the cords in his forearms tense and pull.

Finally, the line leaps out of the water, and soon a big scaly body is flopping on the deck of the boat. “Atta girl!” JJ shouts as you snatch it up by the lure, holding it up proudly. It’s pretty heavy, probably a little over 14 pounds. 

“Look at that, baby! Got yourself a bluefish.” JJ is smiling so proudly as he fishes out his phone, and makes you pose for a picture like one of those Tinder frat guys. The flash is harsh and you know you look crazy, but he grins at the picture all the same.

“Can you throw him back in? He’s too pretty to eat,” you ask as he messes with something on his phone. You’re still holding the fish as you try to lean over and see what he’s doing.

“Here, yeah.” He drops his phone on the boat deck and takes the fish from you to fling back in. When you look at his phone, you see your face staring back up at you from his lockscreen. It was some picture of the two of you from a party, but now it’s you and your fish. He immediately changed his wallpaper after he took the picture. In your opinion, it’s definitely not a knockout photo, but you almost tear up at the sweetness of it.  

“You looked cute,” JJ shrugs, seeing you looking at it. 

You just smile, shaking your head, and lean against him. “Can we get high now?”

“Damn, you waste no time, huh?”

Soon, your fishing rods forgotten, you’re watching JJ roll you a joint to share. His fingers dance along the rolling paper, tucking and smoothing all gentle. He’s mesmerizing. When his tongue darts out to wet the paper, you swear you start salivating.

He catches you staring, hitting you with that heartbreaker grin again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up and light up,” you sigh, reaching for the blunt in his hands. 

“Can’t light up if you don’t hand me my lighter,” JJ frowns, expression sarcastic. He puts his hand out, waiting.

You reach into your basket and pull it out, smiling when you see it. A few months ago, you had decided to buy JJ a custom lighter. You got him one off Etsy, a cheap Bic lighter with your face printed on the plastic. Of course, the image didn’t translate correctly, so the picture is heavily distorted, your smile big and wide and eyes even bigger. 

It’s probably his favorite possession. 

He lights the joint, letting it smoke for a second before raising it to his lips.

“Hey,” you whine, reaching for his hand. 

“So needy,” he chides, taking a hit, gripping you by your neck, and blowing the smoke into your open mouth. Your breath hitches as you try your best to inhale, try to not think about his lips just ghosting over yours, his calloused fingers hard on the sides of your neck.

“Good girl,” he exhales as you successfully breathe in without hacking up your lungs.

The frogs are peeping and the wind is slow and soft, pushing the smoke around the two of you and enveloping you in it. You’re talking mindlessly as the joint passes between you, staring at the way moonlight shines through JJ’s hair, turning it platinum. His irises catch the light just right- bright, icy blue. 

You’re sitting cross-legged, knees knocking with his. All you can think about his how much you love your boyfriend, even with the edges of your mind soft and your senses fuzzy. JJ takes your hand, pressing the pads of your fingertips against his. 

“It’s like I can feel your fingerprints,” he comments, fingertips lightly rubbing yours. He pulls your hand as he leans back, so you’re both on your back, looking at the stars.

“It’s so pretty,” you whisper in awe. With absolutely zero light pollution, the sky is a myriad of deep black and blue hues and so, so many stars. You’d decompose while trying to count them all. You snuggle up against J as he takes a final hit. From your perspective, the rising smoke almost looks like it’s weaving through the stars, netting around them and sparkling right above your head. JJ tosses the remnant of the joint into your grocery bag of trash. 

“C’mere,” he sighs, propping himself up and running a hand down your torso. When he kisses you, he tastes like smoke and sweat, and a wave of heat rushes through you just from the taste. You’re pulling him on top of you by the loops of his cargo shorts, pressing yourself against the firm plane of his abdomen.

“God, you’re needy,” he laughs, pinning your hips down with a heavy hand. 

“You made me this way,” you squirm, and it’s true. He’s too generous with his touches and too sugary with his words, and you chase him like he’s a hit of the purest cocaine. 

He shifts on top of you, a knee between your thighs just like you like it. He presses his knee up just to see you gasp and grind down on him. JJ’s laugh is a little mean as snaps the waistband of your shorts. “Okay, honey, what do you want?”

There’s no shame in your voice as you blurt out, “Fuck me.” You’re whining out a plea before he can even answer, with no care that you’re out in the open… no care that the cops patrol at night.

JJ fakes shock, but the hardness of him against you gives him away. “You wanna get fucked, huh. Out in the open?”

“Don’t act like this wasn’t your whole plan, smartass,” you counter as he pins your hands down right above your head. 

He just laughs in response. “Dirty, dirty, dirty,” he tuts rebukingly, but he’s pulling apart the tie of your swimsuit top all the same.

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

[onlyhereforthestories]

Most Wonderful Time Of The Year (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Day 4! Anyone else think that decorating the tree is one of the best parts of the festive holiday?

As the holiday season approached Leah got more and more excited. You knew she loved the holiday but being as last year you had only been officially dating for about 3 months, she had dampened it down a little as to not overwhelm you. This year though you could tell she was fully comfortable sharing her excitement with you, something you were more than happy with.

Leah had insisted that this Christmas, you’d be decorating the tree together in her apartment. Last year you had left her house one evening and came back the next night to find her house transformed into a winter wonderland of sorts. This year however, she was going to make sure you were a part of her plans, being as you were a lot more involved with each other.

You could tell she’d been looking forward to it all week, she’d already picked up the perfect tree which has spent the last day dropping out. She had also spent an afternoon at the garden centre, bringing home boxes filled with ornaments, lights, and ribbons stating that as this was your first joint tree it had to be new things that you both would like.

Tonight, she’d even set up a holiday playlist so that while you decorated, the living room would be filled with soft, nostalgic carols. She pulled out a big box filled with ornaments, each one carefully wrapped in tissue paper. “I went a bit overboard,” she admitted, laughing as she took out a few of the shiny baubles. “I just couldn’t pick!”

“You went all out, huh?” you teased, grinning as she unwrapped a glittery red ornament and held it up for inspection. She rolled her eyes at you, a playful smile tugging at her lips, and handed you a few decorations to start with.

“Christmas isn’t for half assing a job, not that I ever do that anyway love. But this is like the best holiday of the year, you have to do it proper.” You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face at the excitement coming from the Lioness captain. Only offering her a slight hmmm of semi agreement, before you took the box of ornaments off of her.

As you both worked, Leah passed you ribbons, tinsel and ornaments, her eyes lighting up whenever you hung one up. Some of the decorations were traditional, tiny wooden reindeer, little stars, and glass bulbuls in classic red and gold. But Leah had also picked out a few quirky ones: a mini soccer ball, a tiny camera, and a little book with “Our Adventures” scribbled across it. You couldn’t help but laugh as she explained each one, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she shared the stories behind each choice.

“We obviously have to have a football one, its literally the only reason we are here now…”

“If I had a pound for every photo you took of me or a pretty view then id be richer than a men’s player…” You did mention her and a pretty view are one and the same which got your favourite pink cheeks and scoff reaction from her.

“This feels like the beginning of our adventures, and I saw that one and thought is was a fitting first Christmas together properly ornament. Much better than the cheesy actual ones act least.”

After a while, you noticed a small, lumpy bundle at the bottom of the box. Unwrapping it, you found an old, handmade ornament. It was a little star painted in Leah’s favourite colours and was a bit worn around the edges. “What’s this one?” you asked, holding it up.

Leah looked at it and smiled, a little sheepish. “I made it when I was a kid. It’s terrible, isn’t it?” She laughed, looking a bit embarrassed, but you could see the fondness in her eyes.

“It’s perfect,” you replied, giving her a warm smile as you carefully hung it in a prime spot near the top of the tree where everyone could see it with just a glance. She watched, her face softening as she took your hand and squeezed it gently.

After an hour or so, the tree was nearly complete, draped in lights and covered in the mix of classic and quirky ornaments Leah had chosen. You both stood back, admiring your work as she reached over to switch on the lights. “This is always the best part, the first light up. It’s just magic.” The tree glowed softly, casting the room in a warm, magical light. You couldn’t help but agree with her.

Leah wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both gazed at the finished tree. “It’s perfect,” she murmured, her voice warm in your ear. You leaned back into her, feeling her arms tighten around you in a quiet, contented hug.

She glanced over at the last item on the table, a silver star meant for the top of the tree. With a grin, she picked it up and handed it to you. “You want to do the honours?”

You nodded, feeling a spark of excitement as she lifted you up slightly, helping you reach the top of the tree. Carefully, you placed the star on the branch that stuck out at the top, and she set you back down, pulling you close once again as you both admired the final touch.

“Absolutely perfect,” she whispered, kissing your forehead softly. Her hand stayed at the small of your back, grounding you as you both took in the soft glow of the room.

After a moment, Leah grabbed a couple of candy canes from a nearby bowl, handing one to you before popping the other into her mouth, grinning as she let it dangle between her lips. She looked at you with that cheeky spark in her eye. “Come on, I can’t be the only one getting into the Christmas spirit,” she said, nudging you playfully.

You laughed, taking a bite of your candy cane and settling down beside her on the couch. She pulled a blanket over both of you, leaning against you as she pressed play on a classic Christmas movie that she’d queued up earlier. Together, you snuggled up, munching on candy canes, watching the lights twinkle on the tree, and laughing at the silly holiday scenes unfolding on the screen.

As the night came to and end, you tried to unwrap yourself from the cozy blanket covered position you and Leah had gotten into. The blonde didn’t let you; she tightened her hold on your waist and whispered into the calm night, “Thanks for making this the best Christmas.”

You smiled, reaching to take her hand that had settled on your stomach. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”

With her hand in yours and the lights from the tree casting gentle shadows across the room, you felt like this was exactly where you were meant to be. It wasn’t just about the tree or the decorations, it was about being with Leah, sharing those little moments that you hoped would happen for years to come, and feeling perfectly at home in each other’s arms as the night settled around you.

[sageo7]

you were sat cross legged on your bed propped up on the pillows while you scooped weed from your grinder into a pink rolling paper. he was curled up beside you watching you work curiously, stiles had never smoked before despite being best friends with a chronic stoner (you) but today he decided now that classes were out for spring break and he had been overwhelmed the entire last quarter he deserved to relax. plus he had gotten some coaxing from you. you rolled the end of the joint between your fingers holding it up proudly once it was finished and place it into his outstretched palm.

"see. i'm like totally a pro" you declare with a triumphant grin and he just shakes his head replying with "its a little lumpy" making you deflate

"i'd like to see you do better" you say snatching the joint back from him with a playful glare. you fish through the drawer of your bedside table grabbing out a lighter and pad over to the window near your bed where your ash tray was conveniently placed on the sill. he hesitantly trailed behind you and you grab his hand dragging him in closer.

"just relax mischief" you say soothingly adorning the affectionate nickname to make one of his shy smiles creep across his lips. you place the joint between your lips and in a well practiced motion light the end making sure it wouldn't canoe before passing it over to him. with an encouraging smile from you he takes it placing it between his lips "you gotta try and actually breathe in a little" you admonish poking his puffed up cheek where he held in the smoke. he follows your instructions but can't hold in for long before choking and sputtering out a cough making you fall into a fit of giggles patting his back gently. a few more hits and your both bleary eyed and back in bed bickering over what movie to watch.

"..but revenge of the sith is a cinematic masterpiece and plus its your favorite one" he complains trying to snatch the controller from you for the nth time but you reel back "stiles i've probably seen it with you about a million times" you try to reason pushing his hands away but you've created a giggly persistent monster who's all gangly limbs as he tries to pry it from you again crawling to hover over you a little. the proximity unbeknownst to him has you incredibly flustered cheeks red and mind wandering as one of his palms splays against your hip trying to get better leverage as you raise the remote away. in a high induced moment of impulsivity you bridge the dwindling gap between your lips and kiss him an audible gasp ripping from his throat at the contact. it was chaste and timid so he was still reeling when you pulled away, wide eyes locked onto yours immediately in flustered confusion which your racing mind interprets as rejection so you push back hastily.

"i'm sorry.. i'm just.... really high" is all you can push out as your weak excuse. he only takes another second to process before whispering back a breathy "do it again?" and you practically pounce on him, eagerly pressing your lips back to his. the kiss turns desperate and sloppy quickly, clammy unsure hands pawing at any exposed skin he can reach pulling you flush against him as he devours your lips. his tongue runs against your bottom lip before just shoving into your mouth desperately trying to taste as much of you as he can, his hazy mind not registering that he has to actually let you breathe. your hands have to physically pull him back by his hair to get him to part from you both of you panting for air. his fingers dig into your hips slightly as he holds himself from just dragging you back into another kiss.

"please.. don't wanna stop.. dreamed of this for too long" his words are pathetically needy and catch you off guard slightly. "how long?" you ask softly.

"years" he responds a red flush creeping up his neck at the admittance and you can't help but laugh a little in disbelief. he frowns at your reaction his eyes darting away from yours "don't laugh.." he groans out in embarrassment.

"i just.. stiles i've liked you for forever" you recover with a small dopey smile your hands cupping his face the pads of your thumbs tracing against his cheeks. he sighs in relief his hands resting over yours before he leans forward to press his lips to yours again.

☆ hi guys i'm back!! i wrote this when i was very high so no judgement ;) this is for my stoners and the requests for a little friends to lovers vibe. anyways i love y'all and hope you like this one, thanks for all the love on my other posts hopefully gonna be writing more coming up got lots of drafts to weed through lol ☆

[edankest]

we love blazy susan 😍🌸

not your grandma’s candy dish 🍭 🍬