Oh To Kiss Jake In The Rain While Iris By The Goo Goo Dolls Plays

AHHHHHHHHH

A New Flavor

Jake Kiszka x Reader (f)

Cw: SMUT including: fingering, oral (m and f) receiving, cum play, overstimulation, light spanking, I guess food-play technically?? Idk you'll see, it's nothing crazy, overall fluff and sweet domesticity

Word Count: 2.5k

“Jakeee, I'm trying to watch the show.”

You giggle as his nose tickles the skin of your neck and his arms wrap around you, cocooning you in your own world as the little spoon on the couch.

“You smell good.” Is his only reply and you can feel his lips curl into a smile as they gently press into your skin, then off with a little ‘pop’.

One of his arms moves to lay across your stomach, sending a shiver up your spine. His pointer finger draws circles in the exposed skin right around your belly button which only tickles more and you squirm away from his touch.

“Just wanna love on you y/n.” He says sleepily with a playful hint to his tone.

You turn to him so that your faces are inches away and you move closer to connect your lips. He hums approvingly as his mouth gently parts. His warm tongue slips past your lips and you move your hips closer to his. You can feel him hardening already.

He uses his hands to push himself up so he can reposition to be hovering over you. You take the new angle as the opportunity to part one leg to the side. He takes the hint and lowers himself so that he can slowly rock into your core.

His hand touches your waist and slides up to your chest. He cups your breast in his hand and squeezes as his soft thrusting begins to pick up. All the while his kissing, passionate but tamed stays steady and sweet like honey. You want to lap it all up.

You can feel yourself growing wetter along with the gradual thump of your heart increasing. You wonder if he feels it too. This energy and how fast it can shift between the two of you. Sometimes it feels like you share a brain, and a heart. The way you can make each other feel, just inside this little apartment, it’s unexplainable… It's magic.

He breaks away just for a moment and you finally open your eyes. He is staring back at you with a lazy smile on his face. His beautiful chestnut hair is ruffleed endearingly and it makes your heart skip a beat.

He’s Jake Kiszka and he’s all yours.

You notice for a moment something you hadn’t before. His mouth moves up and down in a chewing motion. He notices your confusion when he flashes you a toothfull grin, revealing the bit of gum he’s been chewing. You giggle a little and pull him by his collar. He’s obviously caught off guard and laughs before you pull him even closer to connect lips once again.

His body around you feels so right as he makes an effort not to crush you completely, (although you wouldn’t mind), but just adds a little weight. You allow your tongue to push into his mouth and scoop out the gum. You notice that it's hard and plasticy and it’s lost all its flavor, but if you really concentrate, you can taste the faintest flavor of strawberry.

Jake’s hips stop and you whine in protest. Your eyes open to find him smirking above you once more. 

“Give me the gum back.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me silly.”

You begin to pick the gum out of your mouth and hand it to him, but he stops you.

“C’mere.”

Realizing what he wants, you kiss him again, slow and meaningful as his tongue licks into your mouth and takes back the gum.

Jake sits back on his knees and his eyes travel down to where you’ve almost soaked through your panties and yoga pants. His eyes are glazed over like a man in love and he looks up for permission. You give him a little nod and his hands tease just above the waistline of your pants. You momentarily close your legs so he can slide off the pants before opening back up again.

He scoots back so he has room to lay down and he brings his face to the inside of your thigh. 

“Don’t make a sound.”

His stern face feigns seriousness, and maybe he is a little, but this is his favorite game. See how long you can go before it just feels too good. Before the sounds escape you and you can’t help yourself.

You brace yourself for his touch and when it comes you bite back a moan. His lips latch onto the meat of your thigh as he sucks in a mark. His other hand massages the opposite thigh moving up slowly. 

The rough pads of his fingertips feel so good against your soft skin, and you want to show him how good it really feels, but to entertain the game, you don’t make a sound.

His sloppy kisses trail up until they land right at the top of your panties. In a move that only slightly embarsasses you, he breathes in your scent and his eyes roll back.

“Y/n.” Is all he whines, sounding almost in pain.

His hands come up and not so gently pull the pink lace to the side. He can’t be bothered to remove them, he needs to taste you. Now.

With no warning his lips attach to your throbbing clit and you almost scream, but your teeth sinking into your bottom lip help muffle the sound. He shoots you a glance as if to say I know you want to moan for me. 

His eyes roll back again and a low hum escapes his lips, vibrating around you, making your hips buck up into his kiss.

“Hey why do you get to do that?” You tease.

His only response is a smile as his lips trail down to your entrance. His tongue, hot and soft delves inside you, curling upward as your legs close around his face. Your head falls back into the cushion as another moan is bitten back.

You realize how hard you’ve been biting down on your lip when you taste blood, and you quickly release your lip to instead grab fistfuls of his hair. He whines into your cunt with every tug, and you switch between stroking his hair to pulling just to hear the delicious sounds it evokes from him. 

His tongue continues to work at you, licking and sucking, getting sloppier by the second. You can feel yourself getting wetter, and when he breaks away to look at you, you can see his face shining with you in the light.

“You look pretty Jacob.” You sigh, completely entranced by him. 

“Pretty? Jacob?” He cocks a brow and smiles again.

You shrug and a small moan escapes you before you can hold it back when he delves back into you. He immediately stops and his hand comes down to smack your center. You cry out again and he delivers another slap making your legs tighten around his head. You can hear how wet you are just by his touch, and he pushes your legs back apart as his fingers trail down to your entrance and two are roughly shoved inside. 

“Fuckk.” 

He looks up suspiciously.

“Hey, that doesn't count!!” You reason.

“You really can’t ever shut up Y/n.” He shakes his head, but smiles to himself. You know he loves you.

“You love me so bad.”

“Yeah I do.” 

His mouth latches back onto your clit, suctioning it while his tongue slowly licks over it. This paired with his thick fingers stretching you and curling makes your eyes roll back, and for a second you can’t even find your words. When they do come out, they're breathy and desperate sounding in a way that makes his dick throb.

“Show me, show me how much Jake.”

His fingers pick up now, his whole hand pushing in and out while his fingers tuck into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes you wanna scream his name. You clasp your hand over your mouth when his teeth ghost over your aching clit, biting softly then licking over you while his whole tongue. It feels so warm against you, and soft, and wet, and you can feel yourself becoming undone.

You look down to watch him for a moment. He looks stunning. His hair is beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat, his eyes are shut tight, and brows furrowed in concentration, and you notice that his hips are slowly rocking into the couch, seeking their own friction. 

It’s hard to explain, but there's something so attractive about a man putting your needs first. The fact that he's more than willing, enthusiastic, to eat you out on the couch instead of fucking you. You imagine his dick is bursting out of his pants, desperate to feel you clenched around him, but instead his tongue laps over you while his fingers work away inside. 

You reposition your grip on his hair and he moans into you, sending vibrations straight through you. You pull him even closer, and he takes that as a cue to go even faster. His tongue is flicking over you up and down, side to side, everywhere, sloppily, hungrily getting you closer. You can tell he’s out of breath too, and he seems to be lost at this moment.

“Jake…” You gasp, feeling like you're unable to get air. “I’m gonna fucking cum, please, please… I’m so fucking close.”

His motions stop for just a second so he can come up for air and spit out, “You can make noise now.” Before diving back into you.

You let out a breath that sounds more like a whine, and as his fingers move faster, you allow yourself to moan his name. He seems to like that because his own hips are moving faster, chasing his own release. You say it again, slowly, drawn out, and loud. 

“You’re so good Jake.” You’re cut off by a whine when he sucks your clit harshly. “So so so so fucking good. All mine.”

Your legs are moving slowly now, all the pent up energy is making your whole body unable to stay still. You can feel yourself right on the edge, waiting for that moment that you’ll break. You feel on fire and every second brings you closer to burning up.

He removes his fingers and you whine in protest, but he quickly replaces them with his mouth. He laps up your arousal, audibly sucking it into his mouth, and maybe you should be embarrassed, but the way his hips momentarily falter, and a whine is drawn from his lips tells you that he fucking loves it.

The pads of his fingers quickly come up to draw circles around your clit as his tongue fucks into you. You try to keep your thighs from squeezing his head as he continues to work away at you. He lets out a grunt as his hips pick up the pace. 

His eyes open to meet yours and his brows are tilted up in pleasure. His eyes roll back and a low growl tumbles out of him as his hips thrust one, two more times. Then they stop, and his eyes return to yours, this time determined.

His fingers move even faster and in seconds you feel yourself finally coming undone. Your legs thrash around his face, trapping him as his tongue still moves inside you. Your head tilts back into the cushion and you hear yourself, far away groaning and whining his name, along with other incoherent curses that make his dick twitch.

His tongue laps up your release until you feel overstimulation start to take over. Your whines become sporadic and your legs shake and hands come to his head to try and push him away. But the look on his face tells you there's no stopping now. 

His tongue laps up every last drop of you, his fingers still tracing tight circles over your clit.

“Jake, fuck fuck, please please, it’s too much…”

Another moan of his name is pulled from your open mouth and finally his fingers slow and his mouth pulls off of you. His eyes travel to your thighs, shaking involuntarily and pussy still pulsing. He gently runs his fingers up your thigh, making them shake even more under his touch. He leans in to kiss your sensitive clit which makes you clench around nothing.

Your chest rises and falls heavily as your body begins to return to normal. He sits up and he too breathes heavily. His eyes meet yours as he slowly, and purposefully brings his fingers to his mouth to lick up every last drop of you. You bite your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to moan again.

He puts his hands out to stalk closer to you before tilting up your chin so he can meet you in a kiss. It's slow, and breathy and you can feel how warm his mouth is. He breaks away to hover over you, just breathing slowly. His tongue licks a tantalizingly slow line from your bottom lip into your mouth. You meet his lips again and you both whine into each other before pulling away with a giggle. 

He sits back on his knees smirking, like he knows something you don’t. And it doesn’t take long before your cheeks burn brightly.

The gum is now in your mouth and you run your tongue along it. It tastes like you.

“How is it baby?” He asks, smile growing wider as you chew.

Instead of answering, you stand to your own knees and walk closer. He watches curiously as you curl your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath hitches as you pull them down slowly, leaving him in just his boxers. There's a little wet spot where poor baby Jakey came in his pants, just so he could make you cum with his mouth. You pout up at him and cup your hand around him and look up as he slowly rocks his hips into your touch, lip between his teeth. 

You grab his hand and pull him to the side so he steps off the couch and stands in front of you. Now that you’re at eye level with his crotch, you pull down the boxers and find the cum covering his length. You slowly lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip. He hisses and weaves his hand through your hair. You slowly lick around it, gathering up his release with your soft tongue.

A low fuck escapes his lips as you clean him up inch by inch, making sure to gather every last drop. When you’re done, you step off the couch to stand in front of him. His hands instinctively grab your waist, pulling you flush against him as you meet his lips for a kiss. 

Your hands wrap around his shoulders as he kisses you sensually once more. You tilt your head when he tilts yours so that your mouths meet perfectly. Your eyes are closed and you hum into his mouth, making sure to transfer the gum back to him.

He pulls away knowingly and smirks as he looks down into your eyes.

“What?” You ask innocently, a small smile on your face.

“Nothing, it tastes like us.”

.

.

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sorry for accidentally making u my entire world

gerard way is the smartest rock artist ever there was only ONE correct solution to the avoiding frerard but acting outwardly gay algebra problem of 2022 and gerard was like i need to approach this backwards...... (kisses the only other eligible dilf)

jaaaaaaaaaaaaaake pspspspspspssppsp jake kiszka *shakes a pack of guitar picks* where are 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.

making a mirador meme everyday until they announce the ep/album

day 132

made by @runwayblues

frank moaning his throat fucking raw during destroya what in gods name is with him

Crisis Hotlines

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