Everyone Make Sure To Set Out Cheese & Crackers For Neil Tonight

My Chemical Romance : Sing - Live from LA

𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🫐 *ੈ.

Gerard you have our permission to write FAG on the drum set

Let It Be Me - A Jake Blurb

Summary: Grief hits at the most random of times and Jake just needs a little comfort.

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ || Angst. Grief. Crying. Mentions of passed loved one. Fluff. Kissing. Cuddling. (no editing, apologies for any mistakes)

A/N: I wrote this on the anniversary of a couple friends' passing and I just needed to write it out. But to whoever reads this and you may be in the same shoes, I want you to know that grieving is okay and healthy (though it may seem the opposite), and you when you think you have no one to run to, just know that I am here, and you will always have someone to turn to. 🤍

A/N 2: I don't normally do tags for blurbs, so if you see it, you see it 😉

Usually hearing from Jake around this time when he gets home from work, you found it odd when a text never came through. Or even a phone call. So you thought you’d reach yourself. But when your texts go unanswered and your phone calls are sent to his voice message box, you gather up your things and get in your car and drive off to his house.

His car sits in the driveway and you can see the lights are all off in the house. Climbing out of your car, you walk up to the front door and try to twist the knob, only to find it locked. Picking through the few keys on your ring, you find his key and slowly unlock the door before letting yourself in. It was eerily quiet, something that was unusual for him. At the very least he’d have some kind of music playing but there was nothing but silence.

Slipping off your shoes and setting your things on the foyer table, you climb the stairs to the second floor and trudge down the hallway to his bedroom. The door is slightly cracked open and you peer inside to see the form of his body curled up on the bed with the covers drawn over him completely.

Padding quietly over to the bed, you gently sit down by his feet and rest your hand on where his ankle is resting. “Jake?” You only grunt and grumble before he twists his body and pulls his ankle away from you.

“Jake..” You crawl across the bed and sit on the side of him. “Do you want to talk about it?” You can see the blanket move as he shakes his head, followed by a sniffle. “Okay..” I breathe as you shift your body to lay down beside him.

You hadn't realized you had fallen asleep until you woke up finding Jake curled around your body. You can tell that he’s awake when you feel his chest shake as he sniffles, trying to fight off the urge to cry. Turning over to face him, you look up at him and he’s already looking down at you. You give him a small smile as you rest your hand on his cheek. His chin quivers and his eyes gloss over with tears.

“You’re okay..” You whisper.

He shakes his head and you immediately pull him into you as he starts to cry. You still didn't know what was going on or what even happened to prompt this but all that you did know was that he needed comfort and you’d be happy to provide it.

“Just having one of those days?” You ask. You feel him nod his head and you rest your hand against his hair and lightly stroke your fingers through his locks. “I love you..” He didn't answer with any words, just simply squeezed you tighter and kissed your shoulder.

Soon he pulls away and rests against the pillows, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “I was doing fine.. And then something happened that reminded me of him and then it all came crashing back. I’ve been doing okay, or so I thought I was..”

“It’s okay when grief comes and goes. Grief never truly goes away, Jake, but that’s what makes us human–as sucky as that sounds.. It’s still new to you, but eventually it won't hurt as much as time goes on. You’ll be able to see things that remind you of him and instead of feeling heavy, you’ll smile.”

“I just wish it never happened, you know?”

“Oh I know,” You say as you reach your hand over to brush your thumb over his cheek. “There’s a lot of things we wish never happened, but we're only human, we can’t control everything.”

“I don't know what I would do without you,” He says as he turns his head to look at you. “How did you even know to come here?”

“You didn't call or text me like you normally do when you get home from work..”

He smiles, a light chuckle escaping him. “I guess I didn't want to drag you down with me..”

“You can always do that, Jake,” You say as you lean down to kiss his cheek. “You know that I would drop everything to help out.”

“I know you would,” He says. “And that’s what I love about you.”

“That can't be the only thing,” You say, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“Only because you were speaking so absurdly.”

“There's a lot I love about you.” He says as rolls on top of you, his body weight pinning you to the bed. “I love how kind you are,” He says, kissing you. “I love how snarky you can be,” You giggle and he laughs. “I love how you stay by my side even when I don’t want anyone around. I don’t know what I do without you, because you are my person, my best friend, and overall the love of my life. I don't know if I say it often but I’ll try to because I do love you. I’ve lost enough people and I’ve realized that I never told them how often I loved them, but I won't let that happen with you.”

“Whenever you need someone, let it be me.”

He smiles and kisses you again. “And if you're not available?”

“I will always make myself available for you. Through hell or high waters, I will come to you. Even if you just need me to hold your hand, I will be there to do it.” You run a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face and tucking it behind his ear. “Are you busy the rest of the day?” When he shakes his head, you smile. “Want to have a movie marathon?”

“Which movies?”

“Anything you want to watch,” You say. “Even if it’s Lord of The Rings.”

Jake smiles and rolls off you before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing the remote. He hands it to you before snuggling up against you and resting his head on your shoulder. “You pick,” He says. He drapes his arm over your waist and pushes even closer to your body. “I just want to be here with you.”

Trees/j.m.k

Pairing: au!Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ therapy session discussing trauma, mentions (does no go in detail) ideations, running away, dissociation, kissing, mark leaving, humping, unprotected sex, overstimulation

as always, please lmk if any tags are missed!

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The first installment of Gretaween 2024 is here! Over the course of 8 days there will be works from other amazing creators added here!

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Please proceed with caution. This fic might be a lot for anyone struggling with suicidal ideations, those who struggle with dissociative thoughts, and even those who have experienced trauma at any point. There are no themes of SA implied or mentioned in this work, but themes of death, grief and the inability to grasp those concepts are.

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The cold weather couldn’t keep you from the woods. No amount of crunchy leaves stacked on the old mossy ground or mud puddles too big to walk around. Nothing. Nested deep in the woods resides a little cabin that you’d stumbled upon one day after school. It was a therapy day, you remember because you wore blue. Blue was for therapy days because therapy makes you sad, and blue is a sad color.

Fact, not opinion.

The little cabin in the woods made the blue days feel not so blue when the orange boy appeared.

When you first met, his hair was getting quite long, the loose waves bouncing around just under his ears. His hair wasn’t like that for long, he’d eventually get it cut, a neat mop of curls resting over his forehead. His voice got deeper, muscles got stronger, hair got curlier, but he still remained orange. Not physically, more so in the way he spoke and gestured. While not typically complimentary, he was the orange your blue needed, and you paired quite nicely.

In fact, the two of you paired so well that you never once bothered asking one another why they were in the woods that day. It felt right. Like all of the blue days led you here. The cabin is brown, physically, but feels yellow. Happy, warm, inviting. Outside the cabin is one giant tree, the tree you’d met Josh under. He was quiet at first, his breath being the only thing to give him away. Quiet didn’t last long, though. He’d grow to talk your ear off every chance he got, and you welcomed his words with open arms.

You hadn’t seen Josh in exactly one week. Something about needing to prepare something for you, a surprise if you will, and to meet him under the tree where you met him in seven days. So you waited impatiently for the longest, bluest seven days to pass without your complimentary person. It was surprising how unprescribed blue days could feel particularly blue. Blue was meant for therapy days. Dismal, a buzzing in your ears surrounding the thought of those grey walls, scratchy carpet and the chair that squeaks every time Dr. Tannis shifts his weight. That’s what blue was meant for, so you tried to fill the days with shades of orange and yellow that reminded you of Josh.

When the seven days were up, you found yourself barreling through the house after school, just to be stopped in your tracks by Mom.

“Honey, please don’t forget you said you’d take your sister trick-or-treating tonight.” Mom sighs as she releases her hold on your shoulders.

“But-”

“No ‘buts,’ Y/n.”

“But I have to go see Josh.” Your eyes widen at the name. You know better.

“Y/n…” Mom closes her eyes and tilts her head back. She was red, metaphorically. The heat and anger couldn’t be seen but it could be felt, and it was burning red.

“I’m sorry,” You sulk, your head falling between your shoulders.

“Please go get ready and make sure your sister is, too.” She tries forcing a smile across her lips, but the forced yellow couldn’t deceive red.

For the third consecutive year, you chose to be a vampire. The costumes were getting better, why choose a different thing when you could continue improving? You lean into the mirror, fanning your teeth to try and help the fangs stick. Your attention is directed elsewhere as you overhear Mom on the phone in the kitchen. Your eyes flutter shut as you hone in on her words, laced with blue-grey.

“She’s mentioning Josh again. I thought that had been discussed during her sessions.”

You don’t mean to listen, but if it weren’t meant to be heard, maybe she’d stop using speaker phone.

“It has been touched on, yes, but-”

“She is well past the age of imaginary friends, Dr. Tannis. Her entire life cannot evolve around the existence of someone who just… doesn’t exist.”

Doesn’t exist?

“Y/n, I think we need to backtrack just a little.” Dr. Tannis sighed as he sat down. He seemed to be paying more attention to the squeak, but the noise still left faint blue raspberry on your tongue.

“Well, Doc, I am an open book!” You leaned back in the chair as you popped a grape Jolly Rancher in your mouth.

“That is sort of the issue, Y/n. You’re not open about anything. We need to start working through what happened.” He clicked his pen before bringing his elbow to the desk and hand to his temple.

“I don’t remember. It’s like one day I was just riding my bike in the woods and everything turned black…”

“Is that physical or metaphorical?” Dr. Tannis raised an eyebrow. He might not understand the colors, but at least he tried.

“Physical black. And then the hospital and then I met you.”

“Do you blame yourself?” He looked up from his notepad, leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs.

“What?” Your heart began racing, on the brink of a panic attack. “B-blame myself for what?”

Were you supposed to blame yourself?

“The accident, Y/n. It’s common for a patient to blame themselves, especially if there’s no other explanation.”

“Uh- sometimes? I don’t know.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to recall what happened. When you opened them, Dr. Tannis was scribbling on the notepad again. You caught some of what he jotted down, nonsense upon nonsense of how he thinks you feel.

“Why don’t we just move on? You’ve mentioned your hatred-”

“Distaste.” You corrected. Josh had changed that, you didn’t hate anything.

“Right, sorry, distaste for blue raspberry several times. Where does that come from? Can you remember when that started, Y/n?”

“I think it’s what the darkness tasted like. Kind of… metallic and cold.”

“Is the darkness where you created Josh? Could he be just a thought?”

God. You couldn’t have created Josh had your life depended on it. You’re not convinced a higher being could have either.

“W-created?! I didn’t create Josh! I met Josh! In real life!”

“Your mother’s mentioned never having met Josh. You’ve never attended school with him and you met after the… incident. Why do you think that is?”

“I already said-” Your words became very red, unlike you. You pressed your lips shut and took a deep breath before restarting. “He’s just not ready to meet new people yet.”

“Y/n, I think she’s worried about, well, if he’s real or not.”

“Mom’s crazy, Dr. Tannis. Of course Josh is real.” You swivel in the chair side to side, snapping Legos together as you sucked on another grape Jolly Rancher.

Finally, something where the taste matched the color.

”Does he exist here…” Dr. Tannis waved his arms around the room, “Or here?” He asked, tapping your temple. The chair squeaked as he leaned forward, causing you to wince. That damn squeak always tastes like sheet metal and a hint of wet dirt.

“Here!” You exclaimed, waving your hands around the room. “And if he didn’t, I’d do whatever it took to be wherever he was.”

“Y/n, as we know you’ve struggled in the past with… Ideations, we call them. I need to make sure that’s not the case.” His eyes grew worried as he tried studying you for answers.

“I wouldn’t do that.” You said pointedly. Your death would mean Josh no longer having someone there for him, alongside you not having him. That simply wouldn’t do. A deep sigh escapes your lips before you attempt to divert the conversation.

“I hug him every time I see him. We’ve… done some things… I know he’s real.”

“Done some-” His eyes widened, cheeks growing flush as the admission slipped your lips.

“Just kiss! We’ve only kissed.”

Dr. Tannis wore a furrowed brow and an expression that was almost eager for answers. Almost like he knew you were lying. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell him you and Josh had been having sex. That would have only caused more problems. The last thing you needed was more problems.

“And how did that make you feel, Y/n?” Dr. Tannis leaned forward in his chair, pressing his pen to the notepad.

“Purple and white.” You responded confidently. Purple and white, that’s how his lips felt against yours each time. His lips remind you of rose petals, the silky innocence of a flower and sweetness of nectar.

“Words, Y/n. I need… emotions, not colors.”

You hate that Dr. Tannis can’t understand you almost as much as you hate nobody believing Josh is real. You chose silence. There was no way to describe his honey coated, purple-white, rose petal lips in a way other than that. Dr. Tannis wasn’t necessarily accepting of the silence but knew he needed to utilize the rest of the time appropriately.

“Y/n, I think a-”

“Could you not use my name so much? It makes me all blue-grey.”

“Right, sorry.” Dr. Tannis clears his throat. “If he’s real, I think a conversation with Josh about meeting your mother would be good.”

“He is real.”

He’s real.

It’s not that you wanted to hide Josh. If you had it your way, you’d share his orange smile and warm embrace with anyone you knew. But he couldn’t go far. While neither of you disclosed how you ended up under that tree, Josh had opened up enough about his home for you to understand. Black and red. It was angry there, way worse than your blue.

You push yourself away from the mirror, holding back the tears that threaten your lash line.

“Not real.”

Who does she think she is?

Once Mom had learned about Josh, she began taking mental note of when you left and how long you were gone. You couldn’t sleep anyways, so you started sneaking out at night to see Josh at the cabin.

“Screw trick-or-treat.” You mumble to yourself as you grab your backpack, making way to your window. You scan over your room, a sense of blue-red and a tinge of black, washing over you. Semi-content with its look, you climb out of the window.

The ground is wet, mushy under your feet as you stomp through the tall, unkempt grass of the woods. The rain couldn’t keep you from Josh. Nothing could. Not trick-or-treat, not blue days or the squeaky chair, not the feeling of blue-black that washed over at the sight of certain things. No other color mattered when you knew orange would always be on the other side.

The rain turns to mist as you walk under the trees, the full moon peeking through just enough to wash the green in blue, physically. It’s silent outside of your feet squishing the wet ground and your backpack shuffling behind you, stuffed with handfuls of the candy Mom specifically said was for the trick-or-treaters. Josh likes Reese’s and BlowPops, so you saw no harm in bringing him some. Blue raspberry and cherry are his favorite. They were yours, too, but not until you tasted them on his rose petal lips. Blue raspberry reminds you of a memory you’ve never been quite able to recall, maybe that’s why therapy days were blue.

You shake your head at the thought of blue raspberry. Thinking of blue days and the squeaky chair would only ruin the orange. The cabin’s in sight and dimly lit, seemingly occupied. Unable to see him, you know he’s in there. You can feel his existence just beyond the trees.

You stand under the tree, back awkwardly against the thick, damp trunk so as to not crush the Reese’s and BlowPops. You run your hand over the carved initials in the bark, remembering the day you and Josh had placed it there. The first time you ever kissed him. The rain is slowly picking up again and you find yourself almost getting lost in the whispers of the wind against leaves.

Perhaps the wind works with the trees to tell us things, but we don’t hear. Maybe the wind doesn’t want to be heard, but rather it wants to be listened to.

Waiting begins to grow so boring you try to understand. Understand what the trees are saying. Understand what caused your original distaste for blue, both flavor and color. Every time you try to think, you find yourself unable to understand. You can never recall a time before the grey walls, scratchy carpets and squeaky chair. God how you hate that chair. It’s been years and yet he hasn’t gotten a new one.

Wait by the tree.

Wait by the tree.

Wait by the tree.

He’d specifically instructed you to meet him here, under the tree you met him years ago. Notoriously late, he wouldn’t be this late, making you lose hope. You start to deep breathe in attempts to avoid the orange becoming red. One foot slowly found its way in front of the other as you walked away from the lone standing tree into the sea of physical green. Just slow enough to keep waiting.

Waiting… Waiting…

“Wait!” His voice rang through the night time in a shade of yellow only he could embody, not the same as the cabin.

“Josh?” You turn to see him standing under the tree, leaning against the trunk. His chest is heaving as he fights for air.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought I had more time. They wouldn’t let me go.”

His parents. The definition of darkness personified. Every bad color couldn’t make them up. Black and red swirled and married in a nasty mixture was surely the reason he found solace in the cabin.

Even under the night sky he radiates orange. His rose petal, purple-white lips and beautiful brown doe eyes glisten in the moonlight. Breathtaking. Hauntingly beautiful. All of the good colors melted down like crayons to create him.

Josh doesn’t move, instead he stands and waits for your feet to make their way to him. Like a magnet, you’re drawn to him, wrapping yourself in his warmth almost as fast as it had appeared.

“Mm,” You hum into his chest, your fingers grasping the back of his sweater. “Smell so… so good…”

It wasn’t unusual that he smells good, but he does smell different. Like the summer sun beating down on a field of wildflowers, and hints of honeysuckle covered in morning dew. He smells earthy but in a way that’s good. You pull away from his chest and look up at his face.

“Fangs.” He nods and taps his fingernail against the fake tooth that sticks out from your lips.

“They’re kinda silly, aren’t they?” You bring your fingers to your mouth and pop the two fake fangs off of your teeth, discarding them into the front pocket of your hoodie.

“They were cute.” He frowns, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he guides you a few feet to the cabin. “I missed you, like a lot.”

“You, sir,” You say, pressing your finger into his chest. “You’re the one who asked for seven days.”

“I know, I know. I just needed time to clean this place up. Make it special, ya know?” Josh opens the door to the cabin. It’s clean. For the longest time a thick coating of dust rested on every surface you had yet to touch, the impressions where the two of you would sit being the only clean spot. All of the physical grey is gone. The cabin feels more yellow now than it ever has before.

“Oh! I have something for you, too.” You smile and nod, pulling your backpack off your shoulders. Josh watches with a crooked head, his eyes narrowing. “Hold out your hands.” You instruct as you dig through your bag.

“Is it gonna bite?” He jokes.

“I hope not,” You reply, placing a handful of Reese’s and BlowPops into his large palm.

“Is this your way of telling me you want a kiss?” He teases, twirling a blue raspberry BlowPop between his fingers. You watch as he stuffs the other candy into his pocket before removing the wrapper on the BlowPop and pushing it past his rose petal lips. The only time blue looked and tasted good was when it was on his tongue.

It was no secret you’d thought about him in… that… way a handful of times before ever getting to be with him. Granted more so after the fact, and right now more than ever. The way his fingers felt against your lips earlier and watching his tongue work around the BlowPop did not make it better.

“Josh?” You whisper just loud enough for him to hear as you close the space between your bodies.

“Yes?”

So many things you want, need, to say evade you. So many pandora's boxes that you don’t want to open.

“I just missed you. Seven blue days was too long.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I missed you too, mamas.”

You wrap your arms around his torso once again, melting into his existence. You wish you could physically melt into him so you never had to be apart. Time away from him was always blue-black. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know, he always knows what you’re thinking.

“I thought you were going trick-or-treating today.” Josh brings a hand up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers massaging your scalp. His voice echoes through his chest, deep and strong.

“S’posed to,” You mumble.

“Well, what happened? Talk to me.”

Mom doesn’t think you’re real.

Dr. Tannis doesn’t think you’re real.

Nobody thinks you're real so I ran away.

“I, uh, I guess I just missed you too much.”

“You know I can tell when you’re fibbing, right?” He pulls away, looking into your face as he tries reading you. He brings a hand to cradle your face, his thumb smoothing across your cheek. “It’s your favorite holiday.”

“I hate when you do that.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. The softer he gets, the more willing you are to spill your guts, he knew that.

“Well I hate when you do that. Don’t put the walls up, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“What are you, my therapist?”

“I can be. I think talking to someone who understands you would be more beneficial than Mr. Squeaky Chair.” Josh guides you over to lay on the old couch, the only piece of furniture that existed in the cabin yet you always sat on the floor.

“Aren’t we too old for this?” You choke out.

“Too old for what?”

“This. We hide away in an abandoned cabin and make out like horny middle schoolers. And my mom thinks one of us isn’t real.”

“Do you not like that?” He looks nervous as he asks, picking at skin on the sides of his thumbs.

“Well, I like making out with you,”

“But?”

“Everyone thinks you’re not real. And I’d like for them to know you’re real so I could make out with you in my bedroom instead. Have sex on a bed like normal people. I dunno.”

Something in the air shifts. The yellow-orange-sunshine is slowly engulfed by red-blue-black metaphorical darkness.

“We can’t do that.” Josh sighs and kneels down beside the couch, bringing his hand to hold yours. The warmth that always exists in his palms felt almost absent.

“Why not, Josh? Why can’t we be normal?”

“I haven’t been honest.” He swallows harshly. You wince as he moves his hand down to rest on your knee.

“Oh great, you have a girlfriend who goes to my college and-”

“No, not a girlfriend, or boyfriend or anything like that.” He rubs his hand up and down your thigh, trying to soothe the nerves he can sense tensing. Electric couldn’t begin to explain the way his fingers feel dragging across your clothed skin.

“Is it your parents?” You sit up and pat the couch next to you for him to sit.

“Not them, no.” He brings himself to his feet before sitting beside you, removing the BlowPop from his mouth. He places the half eaten lollipop on the window sill behind the couch before bringing his hand to cup your jaw. “Y/n, can you kiss me?”

“Josh…”

“Please? Before I say anything, please just kiss me.”

“Josh,”

Could it be that bad?

You shake the feeling, giving into your temptations as you press your lips to Josh’s. Your tongue explores his until the flavor of blue raspberry is nonexistent. Your fingers grasp at his hair, the feeling of his curls helping ground you. As soon as you pull away, you find yourself returning for more regardless of the flavor being long gone from his tender lips. Josh’s hands begin snaking up the front of your hoodie, his fingertips dancing along your sides. His hands against your bare skin feels like oil paints on a canvas, gliding smoothly and perfectly around every edge and detail at the mercy of the artist. Josh’s lips trail down your neck, nipping and biting at the supple skin on your throat, earning a soft moan.

Your hands can’t help themselves, smoothing down the front of his sweater and onto his lap. His length is growing prominent beneath his jeans. Josh follows your lead, his fingers tracing under the waistband of your leggings before pulling you onto his lap.

It isn’t long before you’re pushing your hips into his, rolling methodically against his length as he continues kissing across the expanse of your skin. Josh places his hands on your hips and pushes you down, your center resting over his thigh as your leg slots between his. His hands guide your hips back and forth as you grind your core against his thigh, pressing you firmly down onto him.

One of his hands slowly drags up your side before resting under your chin, raising your face to look at him. He likes to be watched, to be seen, just as much as he likes watching you. Your eyes meet his, warm and golden like summer honey.

“You’re so pretty,” You huff out, still grinding against him. Josh moves his hand to cradle the back of your neck, drawing your lips closer to his.

“Uh-uh. You’re pretty, my baby,” He trails off, pressing his rosey lips against yours. A warm, sweet taste grows the longer he’s there, your heartbeat in places you didn't know it could be. You bring one hand from his shoulder to the back of his head, your fingers nestling deep in his brown curls as you push him closer.

No word can even begin to explain how he’s got you. Josh’s hands work between your bodies, undoing his pants as you continue rubbing against him, a giggle escaping his lips.

“What’s so funny?” You ask defensively, slowing your motions.

“My knee is soaked,” He smirks as he dips his hand past his boxers, not so subtly stroking himself.

“Oh…”

“Is this okay? We don’t-”

“No, I do!” You shout desperately, lifting from his thigh to push your pants past the wide of your ass down until they sit at your ankles. You hover over his length, pulling his boxers down before sitting him at your entrance.

“I’m quite fond of you.” He whispers and looks up, peeling his eyes away from where your bodies are about to connect. The man who loves to watch himself wasn’t watching.

“I’m fond of you, too, Josh.”

“Like a lot, Y/n, and I’m worried about messing this up.”

“You won’t.” You assure him, sinking down onto his length. You hiss at the feeling of him inside, no matter how many times you find yourselves in this situation, it always feels brand new. You fall forward, melting into Josh’s chest as he brings his arms around you with his face tucked in the crook of your neck. His lips find a home sucking a hot trail of marks up and down the side of your neck, reaching his hands down to rid you of your shoes and bottoms.

Josh gently thrusts his hips up, fucking into you slowly, making you feel every inch of his thick cock in your hungry core. Euphoria courses through your veins in times like this, a sparkly, pink goodness that seemingly takes hold of you. Buried deep inside, he holds you down on his length as he readjusts your bodies, laying you across the couch with him above you. He places his hands on the bottom hem of his shirt and hoodie, lifting them over his head to expose his chest. You reach a hand forward and lay it over his heart, pinching your eyebrows together in confusion when you don’t feel a beat.

“You okay?” Josh asks, bringing his hands to the backs of your thighs and pushing them into your chest, allowing him to sink into you deeper.

“Uh-huh,” You gasp and nod as Josh brings a hand from the back of your thigh to lay between where your bodies meet, brushing his thumb over your aching clit.

“Oh… my god…” You gasp into his mouth. “Josh…”

“S’that feel good?” He mumbles against your lips as he slowly works one finger into your already full pussy, thumb still against your clit.

“Like-like,” You hardly stutter as he brings you closer to the brink of orgasm.

“Gold?” Josh suggests, curling his finger upwards as to draw an answer.

Gold. The smell of a freshly blooming sunflower field. The first s’more of summer. The feeling of the sun drying your wet skin after swimming.

“Like gold.” A mess of gasps and moans, you swallow harshly before mewling his name. “J-Josh,”

“Y/n,” He sings, a smile tugging the corner of his lips as they’re pressed against yours. Gold, yellow, honey, rose petal lips, purple-white. The overstimulation was washing over in more ways you could count.

“Josh, please?” You beg for something that’s already yours, a feeling of white-hot washing over your entire body as you feel yourself begin to spill over the edge.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty mama? It’s all yours.” Josh continues curling his finger up, tapping the spongy spot tucked where only he can find it as his hips and thumb keep a steady pace.

Your ears begin to ring like the broken bell above the church nobody attends. Almost in a possessed-like manner, your body convulses under Josh’s touch. As he removes his finger from your aching cunt, you hardly open your eyes to watch him lick your slick off his digits. Your face must look curious because Josh smirks once more before attaching his lips to yours. He tastes of honey, delicate flowers, an old library. To be engulfed and consumed by his flame is all you’ve ever wanted, all you’ve ever craved.

Josh follows not too far afterwards, his hips stuttering and stilling as his warm release coats your walls, his warm torso laying its weight on yours. He turns his head so his cheek rests on your collar, chastely kissing whatever skin he can get his lips on as his length softens inside. It feels weird but nice, oddly enough.

“Hi,” He whispers gently into your neck.

“Hi,” You copy, letting your head fall so your cheek rests against the nest of curls on his head. Slightly damp, but god does he smell good. Chests pressed together, you lay in silence wondering where the beating of either heart has gone. The two of you lay like that for a while, soaking in one another’s presence before Josh finally pushes himself off of you. Your chest grows almost empty and airy, like a helium balloon, without his weight on top to hold you down.

“Can you tell me now?” You groan, sleepy and winded.

“The issue is that I’m not from here, Y/n.” Josh sighs, pushing his legs through his pant legs.

“And that’s okay. But I want to see, Josh. I wanna see where you’re from.”

“It’s all black-red, you don’t wanna see that.”

“I want to know you. Let me see.” Your shoulders fall alongside your expression as you pull your panties over your legs followed by your leggings. Josh reaches down to grab your hand and for a second everything feels orange again. Josh offers a worried smile before everything turns physically black.

“Josh?” Not only is he gone, but everything in the distance looks to be going, too.

It can’t be.

Is Josh… Not real? Just a thought for your amusement?

As you succumb to darkness, you realize maybe blue isn’t so bad after all. It was much better than black, at least. Your surroundings felt like the blue raspberry, thunderstorm, whirring darkness that occured after the incident. Yet still you find you’re unable to recall anything prior outside of riding your bike in the woods.

Finally, you remember something but still not enough to answer what happened that day. All you remember is a glimpse of orange trying to pull you from the darkness and the taste of blue raspberry. A huge wave of grey-black sorrow washes over you, sobs ripping through your chest. Panic is all you know to do.

“Hey,” Orange wraps itself around you in the form of his arms, and even though you can’t see, you know it’s him because of the shade of his words. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

“Where?” You shudder.

“In the heart.”

One deep, ragged breath fills your lungs as you open your eyes expecting nothing except pitch black, but you’re back in the cabin. It doesn’t feel yellow anymore.

“What happened?” You squeak out, just like that damned chair.

“Y/n,” Josh says gently as he walks to stand before you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and rests his chin on your head.

“Josh, tell me what happened, I need to know.” You mumble into his chest as you choke back tears.

“We don’t exist.”

“Yes we do! We exist, Josh. We are real, we feel things. Could we feel things if we weren’t real?” You push yourself away from his hold and ball your fists at your side.

“You can ball your fists, but that doesn’t bring us back to life.” He frowns, plopping onto the floor. He sits criss-crossed, looking up at you with those big brown eyes.

“Back to life?”

“You died that day, Y/n. It’s why you can’t remember anything that happened.”

“Died?” You fall to your knees in front of him, your fists thumping against the ground. Nothing was real, at least it hasn’t been for the last few years.

“I tried to save you but I was too late. I saw you just… laying there, but I tried, Y/n.” Josh rests his hands on your knees. If neither of you are real, then how can you feel him?

For the first time you’re able to recall the darkness. Why it tasted of blue raspberry, where your hatred for the squeaking came from, why nobody believed Josh was real. You try again to remember the day of the accident, but to no avail.

Bike. Black. Blue. Orange.

In the darkness way below, it's my heart he'll keep

Josh Kiszka x GN reader

so I've been thinking about Siren Josh quite a bit so here's a little like ficlet of that :3

Word Count: 956

~

The sun is slowly setting on the horizon, disappearing behind the water. Water is all you can see, in any direction. You are a merchant, far out on a wooden raft, you have crates with enough food and water to hopefully get you through till you arrive in England. Most importantly though, is the boxes upon boxes of jewels. Diamonds and rubies, pretty necklaces and rings. You have been out at sea for exactly 2 months now, and were growing incredibly bored.

Thankfully, the waves were calm tonight, only a gentle breeze in your sail. You sat in the center of your raft, scaling a fish with your pocket knife, quietly humming to yourself a tune from long ago.

The moon hung full and bright in the sky, stars glittering among the empty indigo. That was one of the things you did love about this job, the view of the sky. As you are taking it in, you spot a movement in the water out of the corner of your eye. A shark? Dolphin? No, bigger. You stand up, knife clutched tightly in one hand, glancing around, trying to spot whatever it was again.

A note rings out into the air. Clear and high. A singular voice, filling the vast emptiness of the night. Were you going crazy? There was no one else out this far, and you couldn't identify where the sound was coming from. The noise surrounded you in a way, filling your head.

Again, the voice sings out. This time a series of notes. It was like nothing you had ever heard before. Now, it sounds more like the voice is behind you. You quickly turn around, only to see nothing but the ocean.

You hear a swish of water, something moving. Once again, sound echoes into the air, long, sustained. You slowly turn around, and you can just barely see hands, gripping the end of the raft. Then, up comes eyes, peering at you curiously. They practically glowed. You stumbled back in horror.

The creature raises an eyebrow and laughs softly at you. It lifts up so you could now see the head and chest, of what seems to be the most beautiful human you've ever layed eyes upon. He has dark curls, damp and pushed back out of his face, the sides shaven clean. Water droplets roll off of his skin, which looked as though it was made of porcelain. Not a single visible blemish. He had a little goatee, also dripping with the ocean. His eyes are what you drew you in the most, though. They were big and sweet, from how he appears. Welcoming browns surrounded by crystal white, but as he focused on you, his pupils narrowed into slits, the brown fading a bit. His lips were upturned in a little smile.

"Who are you?…" You manage out, your voice shaking against your will.

"Does it matter?" He responds. His voice is surprisingly raspy, not quite deep, but not as high as he sang.

"..Do you have a name?-" You question him, taking a little step forward, your knife held out in front of you.

"Joshua." The name was shockingly human, but there was no way in hell he was.

As you take a step closer, you are able to see him clearer. He is wearing lots of gold. A pendant dangles from his neck, shaped like the sun. Multiple earrings line his ears. Gold hoops wrap around his wrists, some sliding lower down his forearms. Rings of different shapes on every finger, foreign symbols you couldn't identify. He tilts his head slightly.

You have so many questions, yet all of the words are lost from you, caught in your throat, never uttered. He gives you a soft, gentle look before he begins to sing again, this time words, but it hardly mattered.

"Crash against wave upon wave, whoa-oh In strange horizons, ooh. Heel to the mist and the wind, yeah-yeah You make the movement, ooh"

You find yourself being drawn in to this. Slowly, you stumble forward, it felt like your feet were moving on their own. You drop your knife, it clatters against the wood, but you pay no attention to it. The creature reaches its hands out to you.

"Sail to the end of the world, whoa-oh For death or glory, ooh Bow with your face to the sky, yeah-yeah We are the movement, ooh"

You fall to your knees in front of him, and he cups your face in his hands, his nails ever lightly dig into the flesh, but you don't notice. Totally entranced by this voice, this thing that has found you.

He begins slowly pulling you downwards, still vocalizing. You let it happen, leaning forward, wanting to be closer, something in you urged to kiss him, longed for the connection. He smiles as he sinks down under the water, his eyes locked on yours. As his mouth opens, you can see his teeth are pointed into sharp fangs, his eyes narrowing even more.

Just as you get close enough, your nose touching the water, he drags you down. Claw like nails dig into your cheeks, you try to scream, but your mouth is filled with water. Salt fills you lungs as he pulls you to the deep. He lets you go and you sink down, left to rot in the pit of the empty sea.

~

The sun beats down brightly on your face. You awake on your raft, perfectly dry, perfectly unharmed. You sit up, looking around, confused. Was it all a dream? Everything is seemingly normal..

..Yet, every box of jewelry has disappeared, and you notice, clutched tightly in the palm of your hand is a singular golden scale.

Princess Diana’s looks in Season 5 of The Crown

Currently sobbing and crying and throwing up and dying

We Tried.

a blurb.

pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader (2nd person pov)

tags: ANGST, with a happy ending tho, mentions of alcohol.

CW: pretty much nothing! a fight is alluded to but nothing physical just a verbal fight. alcohol consumption is mentioned as well.

word count: a little over 2k

A/N: i wrote this for pretty much no reason BUT my friend @highriftplains said this is exactly whey they’ve been needing to read.

frankie, this is for you. enjoy.

masterlist | read on ao3

“We gave it a good shot didn’t we?”

Stabbed, right in your gut. Tears prickle at your waterline, you can’t look anywhere but the floor. A mere blissful 13 months ago everything was perfect, no issues, nothing bad, it was pure. Pure and absolute, just like the love you have- or should you say had?

13 was always a number you carried in your heart. Unlucky and taboo, superstition surrounded it, that’s why you liked it. You always thought it brought you good luck when you were younger. I guess it just bit you in the ass, didn’t it?

Jake was a perfect man, the only one you could really stand at the end of the day. And maybe he still is. It’s just a little hard to decide right now.

He sits on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together, he rests his chin ontop of them. You can only look at the floor his shoes rest upon.

“We tried.”

Approximately 2 and a half hours beforehand

You and Jake walk into Sam’s house, the creek of the door being your reminder that sound exists after the silent 30 minute drive to your current location. You both put on your best performance smiles, greeting Josh and Daniel in the dining room.

“Hey guys what’s up?” Josh asks the two of you, pushing his chair to the side to give his greetings in the form of embrace. He hugs his twin first, friendly reminder to you that you will always be last place, especially if things go down how you dreadfully think they will.

You hug Josh back as he turns to you, putting on your best face you feel the pit in your stomach for just a bit. A pit that comes with the words “This is the last time, isn’t it?”

Daniel rises from his chair as well, yet not for you nor Jacob. He brings his attention to Samuel, carrying a casserole dish in from the kitchen. “Dan can you go get the plates please,” is all he says, simply ignorant to your presence just now. You watch as he leans over a chair and places the dish in the middle of the glass table with a painfully audible clink. He turns to his left, your eyes meeting. You watch as his eyes go from surprise to concern.

Shit.

You quickly restore the smile on your face and greet him. You both share your greetings as Danny walks back into the room, plates and serving spoons in hand. He focuses on the plates as he sets them down gently. He looks up at you, oddly similar to the way Sam acts, and his eyes light up. “Oh hi!” He walks over as you greet eachother, then bothering to take a seat and prepare for dinner. You look over to where you left the twins. They’re missing from the spot they once inhabited, instead lingering in the hall. You watch, looking at Jacob, his eyes filled with the look only you and Josh know.

You already know damn well what they’re talking about.

You stand up and place you bag on your seat, then excusing yourself, your feet already taking in to the bathroom. You shut the door carefully behind you, you hands resting on the door as you place your forehead against it. Not bothering to listen in- just simply resting due tothe treacherous emotions within.

You don’t even realise how long it’s been before you open your eyes again when you hear a faint “Oh shit dude…” linger in from the dinning room. You know what he’s telling them, how couldn’t he. You can’t even be mad at him either, you’d do the same anyways.

You turn to wash your hands as you finally bother to make your way back to the table.

The reflection in the mirror stares back at you. A smile plastered ontop, the sorrow in your eyes still lingers.

At least you can try.

You walk back to the table, greeted with the smiles of Sam and Danny. Not the twins though, they’re too connected anyways, no point in pretending. You take your spot at the table, directly across from Jake as Josh sits at the head of the table between you. You look into his eyes for the first time in what feels like decades. A small smile washes across his face, this time feeling forced, a first for the both of you.

And so the five of you carry out with your dinner plans as you feel the rift in the room. Sam had made margaritas for the group, to which you all happily oblige, you can never turn down his cocktails, no matter how much you grive for an impending collapse. You then find yourself helping Sam with the dishes as the rest of the group commence the pitiful first attempts at a campfire. The silence between you two is weirdly peaceful, the room only being filled with the sound of the tap and plates clinking together.

Sam stops, abandoning his plate at the bottom of the sink as he turns to you. You respond with a mere “Hm?” as you look back at him, you already know where this is heading.

“Hey,” he pauses for a moment, gathering the right words inside his head. He places a comforting hand ontop of your shoulder.

“You feeling ok?”

“Oh, yeah I’m fine Sam. Don’t worry about me I’m just tired.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

The two of you are interrupted by Daniel opening the back door. “Hey, we got a fire started do you want me to bring out the little cocktail tray you got Sam?”

“Oh yeah that’ll be great thank you! We’ll be out in just a bit,”

The two of your finish your dishes as you then walk out onto the patio. The three guys all sitting around the fire. Daniel, a fresh Guinness in hand, sits next to Josh as Sam takes his spot next to him leaving the last chair next to Jake. You don’t hesitate to sit down physically, mentally you want rip yourself to shreds as you sit next to him.

The night starts to pass by, all of you getting more tipsy by the minute. Jake even bothers to loosen up, seemingly distracting himself by telling a weird story from his childhood shenanigns with Josh. You all decide to turn in for the night making your way to Sam’s living room. Jacob had already decided he was too drunk to drive, and you of course had completley forgotten to stay sober.

You guys had to stay the night in one of the spare rooms.

Great.

You mentally kick yourself in the head as you walk into the guest room, ahead of Jake. You hear the door behind you shut. You hear a sight from Jake as he stumbles inside.

“Oh shit, I’ll be right back I gotta remind Sam of somethin-” Jake cuts himself off. You hear the doorhandle jiggle as he struggles to open it. “What the fuck?” is all he mutters out. You turn back to him to look at whatever the hell he was doing. “What’s wrong?”

You’re suddenly greeted with your answer.

You see the doorknob laying gently in Jake’s hand.

“Guys!” He calls out.

You hear footsteps come walking down the hall. “Yeah? What’s up?” you hear Sam ask.

“Your doorknob just came off in my hand!”

“What?”

“I can’t open the door dude!”

You then hear an audible laugh come from Sam and what sounds like to be Danny accompanying him. “Guys this isn’t funny!” You call out as the duo continue to cackle outside the door. You hear a confused Josh join them. “What the hell is so funny?”

“The doorknob came off in Jake’s hand!”

You listen in horror as Josh joins the laughter. “Guys what the fuck?” Jake calls out, obviously annoyed even more by whatever this sick joke was. “Oh god okay” you hear Sam say as he finally manages to contain his composure. “Oh god, uh well…” he trails off, a moment of silence and dread overcomes the two of you. “It’s ok you guys have a bathroom in there we can try to get you out tomorrow morning.”

“What?” you and Jake exclaim simultaneously.

“Sam this isn’t funny get us out of here.”

“No can do buckaroo! Anyways you guys clearly need it.” he chimes in.

“Goodnight guys!” you hear a Josh call out as the three seemingly abandon you and go to bed.

Fucking hell.

You just stare at Jake’s back as he drops the handle onto the floor, turning around to face you for the first time since dinner. His eyes are tired. Tired in a different kind of way. He seems lost, yet still completely aware of the situation at hand.

“Hey,” is all he says. The only words spoken to eachother within the past 6 or 7 hours. You can only reply the same. You stand up as he walks towards the bed, sitting down on it’s edge. You examine the lone handle pitfully resting on the hardwood floors.

A silence lingers once more for a moment as you place the handle back down on the ground.

“We gave it a good shot didn’t we?”

He sits on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together, he rests his chin ontop of them. You can only look at the floor his shoes rest upon.

“We tried.”

You pause, finally looking back up at him. You see his face. His poor, poor, grief stricken face. He just stares at you, like a deer in headlights.

You finally let go, resting you back against the door as you slide yourself down to the floor.

“I still love you.”

“I do too.”

The response takes you by surprise. He didn’t-

No he couldn’t have. He cant just say that after everything that happened yesterday-

He stands up.

He slides down the wall and sits to your right. Silence overtakes you again. Your eyes meet again. You finally realize your cheeks have had tears running down them for the past minute. His are the same.

He bites his lip as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his heaving chest. His breath is shaky, no matter how hard he tries to hide it- it’s still there.

You finally let go as he presses a chaste kiss to your head. You cant help but let out a pained anz audible cry into him. He soon follows suit.

The two of you sit there. You don’t even know how long you cry in eachothers arms. A weirdly therapeutic and healing feeling comes from this. But in the end you still manage to look up at him again.

You see Jake.

Not the current him, silently cradling your body.

The old him.

The Jake you first kissed 13 months ago.

“Can we just pretend that nothing ever happened?” he asks, a pitiful smile appearing across his teary cheeks.

“I’d really like that.” is all you respond with. And it’s all that's needed.

You’re in his arms again.

A tighter grip is on you as he hugs you like a man scorned. You grip him too, the emotions becoming all consuming. You can’t help but sob in his arms as he rocks you back and forth in his arms, never wanting to let go.

You simply forget the passage of time there. Simply becoming too tired to cry and dry heave any longer. You finally look up at him, suddenly greeted with his smile. That godforsaken smile.

It’s irresistible. He looks perfect.

You kiss him for the first time in what feels like forever.

You indulge for several minutes, never wanting to leave him. Never wanting to leave eachother.

It’s moments like these where you realize how precious he really is. His love. His compassion. His- well, everything. Everything about him will never fail to knock the wind out of you.

You finally let go of the tension built up in your lips.

“I love you so much.” is all that escapes his lips.

“I love you too.”

A pause lingers in the air.

“I really don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave.” is all you say.

“Me either.”

“We tried.” you laugh out, causing him to break.

“We really did.”

“But some things you gotta learn the hard way, right?”

“Right.”