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sacredjake · 1 year

Text

Animals

pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, oral (m. & f. receiving), fingering, spanking, slight daddy kink, teensy bit of spit play, cussing… nickleback. (let me know if i missed any)

a/n: alright, so this is the very first smut i've ever written, please bear with me. if you didn't know by the title, this was heavily inspired by the song Animals by Nickleback (its basically the song in fic format lol). a huge thank you and shout out to @dannyandthekiszkas because without them, i would not have been inspired to write this, and they also helped me edit (literally thank you so much). another thank you to @malany-gvf for giving feedback and advice.

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Your palms were sweaty and shaking with excitement while you tried to work the latch on your window open quietly. The light in the hallway outside your room went off only a few minutes ago, signaling that your parents had just gone to bed, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You had received a text from Jake about twenty minutes prior that he was on his way to pick you up.

Jake wasn’t your boyfriend, but he also wasn’t just a friend. The two of you had found yourselves in a limbo between friendship and something else. Simply put, you were friends with benefits. And boy were the benefits good. So good that you couldn’t resist sneaking out of your parents house to hook up with the one guy they always hated you being around. Even though you were in your early twenties, your parents stuck with the same rule; if you live under their roof, you play by their rules.

To be fair, they didn’t have many rules, they knew you were an adult capable of making your own decisions. But the one rule they did have was that they didn’t want you hanging around Jake. Ever since high school they believed him to be a bad influence and nothing but trouble all because he convinced you to skip one class with him one time. You could admit they weren’t wrong, but that’s what made him so enticing.

It wasn’t until one drunken night out at a bar with your friend group that things came to a head with Jake. He offered to drive you home and the two of you wound up parked out by the train tracks. Under the coverage of a few trees you found yourself in compromising positions in his backseat.

Since then you couldn’t get enough of each other. Any time you were around one another it almost always led to sex. Eventually you would plan days to meet up so the two of you could go back to that place by the tracks and fuck in his backseat. But for the past few weeks that wasn’t an option. Jake had gotten his license suspended for the copious amounts of speeding and reckless driving tickets he had obtained, so when he texted you earlier in the day about getting his license back the conversation quickly turned into making plans for him to pick you up.

And that is what led to you sneaking out of your window in the night like you were a teenager. Eventually you were able to flip the latch open slow enough that no sound was made, as it was normally terribly squeaky, and carefully slide the glass pane up to climb out of the window. Throwing one leg after the other, you landed outside of your room in the bushes that lined the outside of your house, huffing out a few curses as the scratchy leaves caught your legs.

You edged along the wall to the opening near the corner of the house, spotting Jake’s black truck roll down your street, headlights off. He must’ve been watching for you by the way the passenger door opened, waiting for your arrival. As you made your way out of the bushes a wicked grin tore across your face at the thought of what was to come in a mere matter of seconds.

You ran towards his truck to not be seen, jumping in the open passenger seat and quickly shutting the door behind you. In an instant his hands were on you, gripping your waist, and the back of your neck to pull you into a heated kiss. His tongue entered your mouth, licking the roof of it in a swift motion and earning a moan from your lips. You squeezed his thigh with the hand that rested there, your other hand tangled in his long chestnut hair.

His mouth began trailing sloppy, open mouthed kisses from your mouth down to your collarbone, sucking on the hollow point there before following it with a quick nip of his teeth. As his tongue flattened out to soothe the skin, you trailed your hand up higher on his thigh until it came in contact with his clothed bulge, palming him lightly through his jeans. Jake huffed out a laugh at the contact of your hand on his growing erection.

“Easy there, we still gotta make it out to the tracks.” He lifted his face from your neck to look at you, a sly smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in close to your ear, breath falling hot and heavy against your skin.

“Wouldn’t wanna fuck you in front of your house where your parents and neighbors might see.”

His teeth sunk into your earlobe quickly before pulling away and sliding over into the driver’s seat. You followed his moments and slid over to sit in the middle seat next to him. He turned to you with a wicked grin and a wild glint in his eyes.

“Might wanna put that seatbelt on, baby.”

You had barely clicked the metal in place when Jake slammed on the gas causing the tires to spin and squeal against the black asphalt of your street. You hoped that neither your neighbors nor your parents would pay the sound any mind as you sped down the road.

“Jake! That was stupid! What if my parents came out? They know what your truck looks like!” You hit his chest lightly with the back of your left hand as you scolded him.

“Relax y/n. They’re not even gonna know you’re missing. Besides,” His voice dropped an octave as he continued in a husky voice, turning to look at you, “It’s been far too long since I’ve fucked that pretty pussy in my backseat.”

It was like his words had flipped a switch in your brain as he turned back to face the road. You turned your body into his side, running your hand up and down the inside of his thigh with feather light pressure.

Your left hand came up to brush his hair away from his neck, slowly placing a few open-mouthed kisses from the base of his neck up to the spot just below his ear. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles turning slightly white. In the sweetest voice you could muster you leaned in to let your lips ghost the shell of his ear as you spoke.

“Aw, you think my pussy is pretty?” You gave a small lick to the outside of his ear following it with a light blow of air. The pressure of your hand on Jake’s thigh increased, trailing back up to palm him again.

He let out a breathy groan as your hand began to work him over at a teasing pace before running the length of his thigh again. Your lips went back to his neck, slowly trailing back down towards his clavicle, nipping and sucking on the way.

“C’mon, don’t tease me like this.” Jake sighed, gripping the wheel tighter once more and resting his head back against the headrest exposing more of his neck to your hungry lips. You grinned against his warm skin before licking a slow stripe back up to his ear.

“Who said I was teasing you?” You spoke against his ear again as you slid your hand back up his crotch to the button on his jeans, popping it open. You pulled the zipper down slowly before reaching underneath the waistband of his boxers to wrap your hand around his base, giving him a light squeeze.

Jake’s foot pressed down on the gas at your action, the truck accelerating quickly before slowing back down. A grin danced onto your face at his reaction as you brought your hand up to your mouth. You licked from your palm up to your fingertips making sure to give Jake a good show.

Wrapping your hand around him again, your hand drew up and down his length, pumping him at a steady pace. “Careful Jakey, you don’t wanna get another ticket. You just got that license back.” You teased in his ear as your hand stroked him, base to tip, gripping him tighter on the way up. Once again sending the truck lurching forward.

You chuckled lightly at the power you held over him in this moment. Jake caught on to your enjoyment and took his foot off of the gas. The truck slowed down as he grinned wildly at you, maintaining an antagonizing slow speed.

“Let’s see how fast you wanna go, princess.” Your fun had quickly ended, realizing he fully intended to keep this same speed until you gave him what he wanted. While you would have loved to torture him more, your own need had only been growing. As your hand picked up speed and pressure, so did the truck, and after a minute or two, Jake was back to driving at full speed, your hand working him over.

It was taking everything in him to keep his hands on the wheel and steady as you stroked him faster and harder. A particular flick of your hand over his head sent the truck flying over the dividing line and onto the other side of the road. Jake jerked the wheel back to the right, guiding the vehicle into the correct lane with a hushed, “Fuck” under his breath. Deciding to test his limits even further, you leaned down hovering your mouth just above the tip before swirling your tongue softly around the head.

“Fuck, y/n.”

You felt the truck accelerate again, Jake sucking in a breath and gently pulling your hair out of your face to watch you. You let a trail of spit fall slowly from your mouth onto his dick before catching it with your tongue as it slid down his shaft. You licked back up to the tip to wrap your lips around him finally. Jake’s grip on your hair tightened as a groan tore through his chest at the lewd display you put on for him.

Your mouth sunk down on him, the tip lightly nudging the back of your throat before easing up and repeating the motion, taking in less of him than the first time. Bobbing up and down along his length, you could feel the arousal pooling between your legs, your aching need for relief increasing. You squeezed your thighs together tighter hoping to create some friction while continuing to pump your hand over what didn’t fit in your mouth. Jake’s frequent groans and curses flying out through his clenched teeth spurred you on more.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” A light moan slipped from your throat sending vibrations around his dick. You rubbed your thighs together again, making your arousal known and applied more pressure with your hand.

“You like that? Like when I talk dirty to you?” You did your best to nod, but Jake didn’t seem satisfied with the notion.

“C’mon angel, use your words.”

You could hear the smugness in his voice mocking you. You tried your best to answer ‘yes’ around his dick, but it came out as choked, and muffled vibrations.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?” His hand in your hair gripped tighter, tugging at the roots and you could practically hear the smirk on his face. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to speak with a full mouth?” He chastised, and you couldn’t stop the moan that flew from your chest at his rough and cocky voice.

The sensation of your mouth vibrating around him threatened to send him over the edge, muscles twitching causing him to swerve off road a little. His hand left your hair, pulling on the steering wheel to avoid wrecking in the ditch on the side of the road. You pulled off of him, a string of spit connecting from the head to your bottom lip as the truck jerked around violently.

“Shit. Fuck.” Jake took a deep breath regaining control of the vehicle once again and began accelerating faster, eager to reach your destination.

Your hand returned to its previous state, easily sliding up and down his length due to your spit coating him thoroughly. Looking around you recognized that you were quickly approaching the spot out by the tracks. Jake laid on the gas harder, sending the speedometer well over 80 miles an hour.

“Someone’s eager.” You quipped once again, causing his body to shudder at the added stimulation of your breath against his ear.

“Shut up.” He huffed with a laugh keeping his eyes locked on the road so as to not miss the turn that was coming up. He pulled off onto the road that led to the tracks, and found the hidden spot tucked away behind a the trees.

You began to move your body as he parked, positioning yourself at an angle that would allow your right leg to cross over his hips to straddle him when he stopped your movements.

His right hand grabbed your chin while his left pushed your leg back down. “Ah-ah, not tonight. Not after all the teasing and getting me so worked up that I almost wreck my truck.” His mouth crackled in a sly smile, flashing a portion of his teeth. “Get in the back.” You shivered involuntarily at his gruff demand, excitement burning in your chest and between your legs.

He pulled your face closer to his, thumb running the length of your bottom lip, his tongue following after in a slow, languid swipe. Before pulling away completely, he pulled your lip between his teeth, biting down just enough to border the line between pain and pleasure earning a gasp from your throat. He shot you a wink before speaking again. “Better get back there, baby. You’ve toyed with me enough tonight, I think it’s time you got yours.”

His left palm came down on the outside of your right thigh, a loud crack sounding in the small space. You let out another gasp as you winced slightly before a grin settled on your face, Jake grinning back at you. You shifted over to the passenger side of the truck to pull the center console down before climbing over it into the backseat. Just as you were making your way over the console, you felt Jake’s hand slap against your left cheek, igniting a fire in your core at the feeling of the sting his hand left behind.

He was right behind you climbing in the back seat and sitting in the middle. Once again you moved to straddle him as he settled, but Jake clearly had other plans, stopping your movements to hook his index fingers into the top of your shorts. You lifted your hips off the seat to allow him to pull them and your underwear down in one swipe. His right hand rested on your ankle while the left gripped your hip. Slowly he ran his fingers up your calf to your thigh where he gently spread your legs open to him. A teasing smirk played on his lips as his eyes landed on your dripping core.

“Tell me, Princess,” His index and middle fingers trailed lightly up your slit to your clit, gathering the wetness that had pooled there. “Do you taste as sweet as I remember?”

He held his fingers up between you, your slick glistening on them in the faded moonlight. “Open.” He instructed, tone firm. You obeyed and opened your mouth allowing his fingers to rest against your tongue. You closed your lips and hummed around his fingers, licking and sucking yourself off of him. He watched through half-lidded eyes in awe, lips parted and pulled into a light grin.

He slowly pulled his fingers from your closed lips, watching as they slid out. “That’s what I thought. Are you gonna be a good girl and lean over the console so I can have a taste?” You gave a silent nod in reply.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Y-yes.” You stuttered out with another nod. You got up to stand between his legs that were spread open across from the console.

“Yes what?”

His hands rubbed the outside of your bare thighs while you leaned over the black leather of the console laying your head on your crossed arms.

“Yes, daddy.” You cooed, earning a groan from Jake. His right hand came down on your ass once again, harder than the last making your walls flutter. Jake soothed the red mark on your ass by softly running his hand over the stinging flesh, his dick growing harder at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing.

Not being able to resist any longer, he leaned forward, tongue meeting your swollen lips in a quick lick before blowing lightly. Your eyes rolled back and your body shuddered at the sensation his cool breath provided to your heated core.

“Just as sweet as I remember.” He hummed into the open air.

His tongue dove back between your folds, teasing your entrance before pulling away once again. You heard a sound akin to spitting just before his wet fingers found purchase on your clit, drawing tight circles. You had barely registered the way his fingers worked your clit when his tongue ran through your parted slit. His tongue danced around your entrance teasingly before sliding in fully.

You could feel the imaginary band begin to tighten, head fuzzy and legs shaking as Jake continued to fuck you with his tongue, fingers rubbing against your clit. Your breath was hot and labored against the cool leather of the console underneath your upper half. Moans and curses flew from your mouth, quickly approaching your climax.

Jake withdrew his tongue from you to replace it with his middle and ring fingers, stretching you further. A gasp caught in your throat quickly cut off by a breathy, “Fuck Jake,” leaving your mouth. His fingers withdrew from you, earning another smack to your ass at the use of his name. He guided his tongue back up and down your dripping cunt.

“Try again, baby girl.” He mumbled against you, the added stimulation hurling you faster to your climax.

You opened your mouth to correct yourself, when you heard a noise come from outside the truck.

“What was that?” You whispered, reaching back to pull his hand away from you. Jake pulled away slightly to listen for what you heard, but it was silent.

“Must’ve been the wind. No one knows where we are.” He returned his attention back to your pussy waving off whatever you heard.

Seconds later you heard a loud thud. Your head whipped up on instinct, looking straight out the windshield. Your heart dropped in your stomach, a lump forming in your throat, eyes wide, body rigid. “OH MY GOD!” Your hands flew behind you to push Jake away before he could question what happened.

“That’s my dad outside the car! Oh my god.” You cried out in a hushed yell.

You hurriedly maneuvered your body back into a sitting position in the backseat while trying to stay hidden, hoping to god that your dad didn’t actually see you. He was parked about thirty feet away, walking towards Jake’s truck.

“Shit.” Jake climbed back over the console you had just been laying against. You tried your best to put your underwear and shorts back on in your panic-stricken state as Jake made to get the two of you out of there.

“Oh fuck me!”

“What?!”

“The keys! They’re not in the ignition!” Jake looked around for them, patting the seats and his pockets before spotting them laying on the floorboard of the driver’s side.

“Found ‘em. They must’ve wound up on the floor while we were switchin our positions.”

He stuck the keys in the ignition as your dad approached closer to the vehicle. The engine came to life and Jake threw the truck in reverse creating more distance between the two of you and your dad. You stayed ducked down in the back seat as he turned the truck around and headed back out on the main road.

“Holy fucking shit! I am so dead!” You climbed back over the console as Jake sped in a direction you didn’t recognize. You eyed him quizzically.

“Jake, where are we going?”

“Well I can’t take you back home. Obviously they knew you were missing. It would be suspicious if you showed up now.” He kept his eyes on the road, hand waving about as he talked. “I’ll just sneak you into my house for the night and you can say you stayed over at Candice’s house or something.”

“But they’ll recognize your truck when you drop me off?”

“Not if I take my sister’s car they won’t.” He threw a wink at you along with a knowing smirk speeding down the dark road.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments until Jake chuckled loudly to himself.

“What’s so funny?” You rolled your eyes, turning your body to face him, and pulling your legs up on the seat beside you to sit at an angle.

“Say your dad did see you,” He laughed lightly as he thought about what he was about to say,

“Think I could convince him it was your mouth I was kissing?”

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taglist: @malany-gvf @dannyandthekiszkas @gretasimp @popejosh4ever

add yourself to my taglist!

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka one shot #gvf fanfiction #greta van smut #Animals #jake kiszka x y/n #jake gvf smut

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wildbluesorbit · 4 months

Text

Wounded II || JTK

…A Continuation of London

18+MDNI

Paring: Jakexreader(f)

LONDON SERIES MATERPOST

A/N: It’s arrival is finally upon us… so sorry it only took three weeks:( I promise the wait was worth though; out of the whole series, this installment was my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE to create !! Shoutout to @tommie-gvf for editing:) I am beyond excited to hear what y'all think!

i didn't notice the last 2k words cut off (x)

Summary || Navigating through the aftermath of your argument, you can’t bring yourself to face Jake.

Content Warnings || toxic relationship, agoraphobia, haphephobia, explicit depictions of night terrors/panic attack, brief mentions of anger and physical aggression and bodily harm and murder/death and sexual assault, verbal aggression, reckless/distracted driving, brief mention of drug use, unsolicited touched, allusions to depressive and isolative episodes, [non-aggressive] unannounced entry into readers bedroom, a very brief boner lol

Word Count || 7.2k

— JAKE —

You wince at the strain of your stiff muscles propped against her bedroom door, eyes accosted by the morning light. The sequence of how the cold hard floor became your bed for the night is less than clear. Your only clues, the taste of liquor and guilt still bitter on your dry tongue, you are most likely the asshole.

You will your aching body upwards, the pounding in your head follows your first step. You accomplish the odyssey that is the hallway to your bedroom and start on your appearance for the studio; the account of the night before depositing itself moment by moment as you ooze about your room.

Still couldn’t get your puppy out of her little cage?

You cringe as you brush your teeth and fight your tangled tresses to loop into a low bun, a tangible distraction to repress the clawing conviction.

I heard she won’t even let you pet her.

A huff escapes you as you slip on your socks and step into your boots. You grab your coat, intent on heading downstairs, but you instead find yourself not strong enough to withstand the gravity and accomplish your trek to the stairs; slave to the magnetic field of her bedroom door. You try to sketch out some impression of last night’s details, but clarity refuses to reveal itself to you. You study the ridges of the wooden frame and grumble to the clueless girl you pray is comatose on the other side.

The sound of your older brother calling you from downstairs breaks your spell as you shuffle towards the source.

The guy who put his hands on you has got nothing to do with me.

Don’t you think you’ve carried this weight way too far?

Thick eyebrows furrow in your direction as a baffled Josh canvasses your face for any indication as to why you struggle to recite a simple breakfast order; your disconcerting recollections jerking you by the reins in and out of disassociation. You almost wish you could remain inviolable in your amnesic ignorance.

When are you going to stop being so apathetic towards this?!

You shake off your shame as you put aside the freshly delivered food on the kitchen counter for her to find after she wakes up. You lock the front door after Josh walks through and take a deep cleansing breath before you step into your car, knowing you can’t take this baggage to the studio with you.

You don’t get to speak to me this way.

I’ll be out the door.

Your twin yells over the roar of the rumble strips from the passenger seat as you stray into the shoulder, “Jake?! The road!”

Fuck you, Jacob.

Just another thing you have yet to do.

You plug in at the studio, butchering and tripping over riffs of your own design.

The completely broken and mortified look you painted on her face.

The vision curses you blunderingly dumbfounded.

“Okay, let’s take a quick five,” Josh says over his brother’s instruments while silently interrogating you from across the booth.

You mentally rewind to realize you had completely missed your entrance.

An aggravatingly tone-deaf Sam challenges the sudden hiatus, “But we just started?”

Josh blusters his youngest brother a look that threatens unbridled rage.

A sympathetic Danny steps in to rescue a clueless Sam from Josh’s wrath, “Sam, want to go get high?”

Like dangling shiny keys in front of a toddler, Sam’s attention is now fixated on Danny’s proposal. The two giggling men giddily scurry out of the booth up to no good. As soon as the exit door swings shut Josh stomps over to you, rolling his eyes.

He unpacks his authoritative older sibling's tone as his hands wildly comb through the air for your confession, “Okay, enough moping, out with it.”

You don’t even bother armoring a defense. You know very well you would end up confiding in Josh sooner or later. You ineptly unload every detail you can extract from memory in an iniquitous admission to your twin.

You haven’t even finished speaking your closing statement when a pinching sting burrows against your skin as a result of Josh’s backhand assailing your bicep. You hiss through pressed lips and rub over the infliction with your opposite hand, yet you don’t dare challenge the considerably clement treatment.

“You are such a prick sometimes, I swear,” Josh professes through gritted teeth.

You’re so consumed by your guilt you can’t even concoct an offense.

“Do you think she's going to leave- Fuck, I would never speak to me again,” you answer your own question.

Your pleading eyes frisk over Josh’s identical features, hungry for some kind of reprieving answer. Yet his same honest spirit that knots and kneads your stomach is the same one that always gravitates you towards Josh for counsel in the first place.

“I can’t answer that for you, but I think it's important you at least give her enough distance to think clearly,” Josh dismally warns.

Your thumb and middle finger start at the crease of your eyebrow and rub outwards to your temples, tugging at your skin till your fingertips reach your hairline and fall through your tied-back strands, “Did I fuck this up, Josh?”

You almost wish you couldn’t read his expression of pessimism as Sam and Danny reenter the studio, bursting at the seams with a laughter that you can’t even fathom in this moment. Their giggles cut right through your exchange with your twin. Josh squeezes your shoulder and gives you a smirk of consolation before resettling himself in his designated portion of the booth. His way of wordlessly telling you to keep your chin up and you’d discuss it later.

You try your best to adjourn your sins for now as you know it is time for studio work and studio work only, yet still stumble and topple through every note without a hint of grace until the very last beat of the session.

—YOU —

”Went to the studio, will be back late. Enjoy your day -J “

Jake’s handwriting on the cardboard coffee cup sleeve informs you of his whereabouts. You inhale deeply, allowing the sweet soothing aroma of your favorite roast to sweep you to a better day. You are also embraced with an alluring savory scent. You restively snatch the small paper bag on the kitchen island that rests against your drink to discover an entirely different note.

“p.s. Jake bought you a muffin too but I got hungry :) - the other J”

You smile to yourself and unfold the crinkled brown bag to discover the comfort of your favorite grilled chicken caprese sandwich. You giddily scurry back to your room to start your day.

You’ve found that making lists and organizing your time usually helps your mind from wandering where it shouldn't. So, you do just that. You make your lists. You order things low in stock around the house. You check your emails.

You know you should close your laptop once you finish your clients’ work. Yet you find your mouse hovering over a new search bar. Foolishly, the hunt for apartments has begun with only a few clicks; knowing damn well you threatened your leaving in anger and don’t plan on going anywhere.

But as you scroll through listing after listing you begin to feel like maybe it could be time to leave and move on. Maybe you are suffocating everyone, but they can’t bring themselves to tread through your undoubtedly trauma-infested waters, hoping sooner or later you’ll fall off like a rotting limb. Or maybe the problem isn’t you but your lack of a clean slate. Maybe Jake ties you to the root of the tragedy just as much as he shelters you and grounds you in its aftermath.

Instinctively, your monitor is slammed shut as your breath begins to flee from you. Even if this is true you can't make a decision based on some childish blurt. This would take genuine rumination. Which you are incapable of, considering you aren’t a hundred percent sure this isn’t some impulsive ammunition aimed at Jake.

You sweep your consciousness clean and distract yourself with other productivity. You journal and read and wander around till you’d find a guitar. You do whatever you can to keep yourself busy.

Before you know it, the day turns into a week. You had been going to bed early before the boys got home so you really hadn’t spoken to anyone. You hadn’t even been purposely avoiding Jake, but space is what you keep telling yourself is best for the both of you since the other night.

It is only five in the afternoon when you hear car doors slam in the driveway from where you have been stuck in the same book for hours in the library. You instinctively shut the hardback with a smack and fly upstairs.

Even though it has been over a week, you aren’t yet ready to talk to Jake. You have certainly forgiven his assailment but you hadn’t yet figured out how to face him or his words. So you tuck yourself away in your room, never to be seen.

That is until you hear a light knocking at your door a few hours later.

You freeze, careful to not make a sound. You hope that silence will discourage whatever suitor is on the other side, enough to leave you alone.

“It’s just me,” you hear Josh’s voice travel through your room.

Still cautious, you impugn before moving a muscle, “Yes?”

“It's okay, Jake’s not here,” he says flatly.

You exhale in relief but still inch the door open slowly. You guardedly investigate to discover it is, in fact, Josh and only Josh. You still greet him with narrowed eyes.

“You can relax, sunshine, the man is on a liquor run,” Josh reassures you.

You are accosted by his bugging eyes till he gestures to the slight gap in the doorway, “Can I come in or-?”

You ostensibly inspect him, “All right but I’m going to have to pat you for any wires.”

Josh throws his head back in a quick sharp laugh as he welcomes himself into your room, “Ha! Don’t threaten me with a good time, sunshine. But I would not spy for Jake. I’m strictly here on third-party business.”

He makes himself comfortable on your bed and sits resting against your headboard; something you’ve always admired about Josh is his ability to make home anywhere and draw close to anyone.

Once he settles, he sets your pillows against the wall next to him and smacks his hand against your comforter a few times, ushering you to join him on your own bed. You roll your eyes with a smile and jump onto your designated spot next to him.

You force a cheeky smile, “So to what do I owe this displeasure?”

He places his hands over his chest and feigns an offended gasp, “Well, I was just coming to check on you.”

You remind yourself that you are safe with Josh and it's only his way of showing he genuinely cares when he places his hand over yours. It's like running against the wind, but it's all you can do to not shudder and immediately pull away.

His speech carries concern as he lightly squeezes your hand, “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Is that on purpose?”

You tense a bit at the directness of his question, “Not really. You have just been going into the studio early and staying out late recently.”

“Well, just remember isolation isn’t good for anyone and-”

“Josh-,” you start but he sings over you to finish his sentence.

“...and we miss you,” he lovingly interjects.

Your words come out sharper than you intend, “We? Who’s we?”

“Yes, we.” he mimics your satire, “Me, Danny, Sam, and especially Jake.”

“Well, obviously not too much if it's you here and not him,” your tongue instinctually retorts.

“He doesn’t want to suffocate you is all, believe me, he certainly misses you,” Josh rolls his eyes, making you curious about Jake’s behavior after your argument.

“Sunshine,” Josh cuts directly to his inquiry tired of tip-toeing, “What happened the other night?”

“Please,” you almost snort, “I’m convinced you and Jake secretly compare bowel movements. Don’t act like he didn’t already tell you every detail.”

“I mean he did,” Josh confesses, “I just want to hear what you have to say and see how you’re feeling. It might help you to talk about it.”

“Also, you’re gross,” he blurts and narrows his eyes.

“As much as I totally want to relive your brother’s cruel words, Josh, I trust Jake told you everything like it happened but-,” you hesitate, the realization you might not like the answer just now seeping heavy into your bones, “what happened at the bar? Between Danny’s call and Jake's temper, I can tell something wasn’t right.”

Josh’s features drop with his shoulders and an exhale, “He didn’t tell you?”

You see an indiscernible visage dart across his features after you shake your head no. You recognize it as condolence as he carefully recounts that night in every stomach-knotting detail; depicting a very doleful Jake, a “bitch-for-brains loudmouth” as Josh put it and her insolent tears at Jake, followed by his solemn exit and dodged phone calls.

Your heart writhes from its relocation in the pit of your stomach, almost sick at the thought. Your inability to leave the house is now bleeding into all aspects of his life and polluting his liveliness you loved so; a light that has seen you through the ugliest dark.

Josh frees you from the quicksand of your spiraling thoughts with a fragmented one of his own, “He waits for you, you know?”

He must read the confusion on your face as he rephrases, coloring in the empty lines with a bit more context, “Every night- Jake- He’ll always have this stupid giddy look on his face when he tells us the good news that you should be joining that evening. And I know my brother, he genuinely believes it. I can tell he’s not being optimistic or even humoring himself, or you. Then when he shows alone, he’s never angry or upset. He’ll just tell us you were too tired or weren’t feeling up for the outing. But I swear to you- his eyes never leave the door. Even if distracted, his body is always facing the entrance. He’ll never admit it- I’m not even sure if it's a conscious habit, but he always holds out hope that you’ll show up. We all do- just can’t hold a flame up to him. I have yet to hear him speak a bad word of you or complain of your absence. He has such faith in you, more than I think you realize, and I have yet to see it dim. I’ve never seen Jake so far gone in love with someone and he only wants to see you grow.”

Your mouth opens to speak but all words seem 10,000 miles from your horizon. Your eyes begin to pool as you try to grab at any response, his last words poisoning any other ideations. Neither Jake nor you had spoken a word of “I love you” to each other since that harrowing night, much less did he mention being in love.

You want to ask Josh a thousand questions of what he meant by that. What has Jake said? What has Jake done? How does he know for certain? You have to leave now, right? Wouldn’t that be the selfless thing to do? Yet, you can’t vocalize one.

The debut of your salty streaming eyes ushers Josh to reel in his sermon, “Look- you don’t have to say anything- unless you want to. I definitely want to hear but I don’t want to pry. And I don’t tell you this to make you feel bad, I’m just trying to give him some credit and it's something I thought you should take into consideration. Just in case you felt as if that might be impeding you. So when you do return, that's one less thing off your plate. I promise no one will look at you differently. We're all just so eager and ready to have you back by our side again.”

His immediate addition is an exact echo of his brother, “No rush though. You do what feels right, sunshine.”

You swipe at your glossy cheeks and only nod in understanding, still unable to grasp a word.

“Alright, I also just wanted to let you know we have a flight in the morning and we’re out of town for the next few days,” he steers the conversation in a less hazardous direction.

“So you’ll have the house to yourself,” he playfully wags his finger in your face, “and no ragers, young lady. I mean it!”

“No promises, but I’ll see you when you get back,” you pucker your lips, caperingly blowing him a kiss.

“Unless you want to be a stowaway? No one would stop you,” his eyes grow wide along with his smile; the same one that always grants you such safety when it appears on his twin.

You lark, “But then when would I have my party?!”

“Ah, clever girl,” he accepts his defeat.

Josh takes liberty and scoots down to lay cozy in your bed, indicating he is going to regale you with his illustriously dazzling conversation. And he does. You catch up with each other on your weeks and he tells you what they plan to do on their trip. You ask him how Sam and Danny are doing, and then Jake.

Just as he's illustrating an anecdote of some embarrassing and eccentric stunt Sam pulled to infuriate Jake today, you hear the heavy steps of tired boots coming up the stairs.

Josh’s story is totally derailed by his twin, “He sure is heavy-footed for someone so small.”

“You know you’re just as-” you start.

“For my whole life, unfortunately,” he shakes his head in a faux grief.

“Well, we have an early start and I was told I can’t be late this time,” he rolls his eyes, “I better head to bed.”

Josh exuberantly springs from the mattress to his feet and theatrically bows in a goodbye, knowing better than to attempt any sort of embrace.

He pulls away to make eye contact, “Be right back, call if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you throw him one last jest, “Have a safe flight and don’t forget Sam’s leash!”

“Please, he’s Danny’s pet, not mine,” he scoffs and saunters towards the door, “goodnight, sunshine, love you.”

You tell Josh goodnight and return his love before he winks you goodbye and gently shuts your door, disappearing behind it.

You giggle as the sounds of him dramatically stomping down the stairs in a motion to Jake’s prior thuds through your room.

That night, sleep hides itself away from you. Josh’s words chase each other, crashing and rattling around your head like a pack of rabid wolves. With each passing second you can’t help but think of the warm-bodied man down the hall from you.

Is he fast asleep, unbothered by you? Is he awake? Is he thinking of you too? Does your presence burden him? Is he fighting the urge to come see you? Is your name on his lips?

Your racing thoughts are broken by the trudging of a sleepy, no doubt grumpy, Jake.

The footsteps travel from his room and seem to concentrate as they get closer to your door, until directly in front. You hold your breath as you hear Jake mutter something and hiss in frustration. You’re only able to make out his last words as they barrel from his throat.

“Please, just- be here when I get back,” he implores the silence of an empty hallway.

Your chest pounds erratically, your heart threatening to escape its cage. It’d only been a week but you don’t realize how much you ached for him until your bones entered a state of conniption at the sound of his slumber-rasped voice.

You know he assumes you’re asleep and these words aren't yours to hear. You can’t help but wonder if this is the first night he’s addressed your inanimate door. Your malaised heart sings a mourning song to the resentful tune of Jake’s boots dragging him towards the stairs and away from you.

A decent night’s sleep still refuses to slip into your covers with you, so it's the sun that puts you to bed. The next few nights prove the same. You try your best to fix your sleep pattern, performing laborious tasks during the day to tire yourself out but it renders useless.

You refuse to take any kind of relaxant, as the haze always takes you back to a sensation you never want to return to. You aren’t sure if it's Josh’s words or another bad storm on your horizon, but you have become an insomniac.

It has only been 4 days, but each one is a bit more challenging than the previous; today rains over you like a hailstorm.

You don't want to get out of bed. You don’t want to get up to use the bathroom. You don’t want to shower or get dressed. You don’t even want to eat.

You have no wants, only musts.

You must get up, must relieve yourself, must shower, must dress, and you must eat. Or you will not survive. You will die here, swallowed whole by nothingness. No one is here to tell you what to do. No one is coming to your rescue.

Something different. Routine is a consistent companion until it is your cage.

A break. You convince yourself you need an unfamiliar happening to overwhelm your senses. An affair to shock you back to your feeble bubble of fleeting stability. A change in scenery.

You find yourself in a hysteric pace around that front door. There is nothing to lose at this point. No one here to witness if you fail. Everyone’s words run through you.

There is no rush.

But there is. You are already behind. This house is running out of oxygen. You are already rotting here. This habit will soon blur into home.

You take a deep breath and turn the knob. Not daring to chart with eyesight first, you fling yourself through that open door as if at any moment you might be sucked back inside.

The air enwraps you, brisk and cool. The undeniable fragrance of a distinct autumn breeze interrupts its commute, reminding you of how miserable you’ve been without it. Your sight is allured by your new porcelain shade in the sun; you have prodigiously neglected your melanin to a pallid skin tone you’ve never worn before.

You propel forward, telling yourself to just keep moving. You secure your place at the end of the extensive driveway and unwisely decide you can make it down the sidewalk.

You should know better than to think you could outsmart panic without strategy. You feel storm clouds roll in thick all around you; and wherever there’s rain, thunder is sure to follow.

Suddenly the boundless reaches of the stratosphere isn’t enough to save you from the suffocation of the world crumbling fast around you. You pivot until you’re barreling back down the path you came. You almost lunge through the door and lock yourself back inside.

You gait about the living room performing your breathing and self-soothing exercises. All children’s play in the wake of your hijacking terror. You eventually catch your breath but the tremors bond with you.

Whatever was eating at you earlier was only amplified by your brief spontaneous journey outside of the house. But you had foolishly led the demon inside with you, it is now clawing at the walls and howling throughout the halls.

You search for sleeping pills having no hope to rest organically tonight, accepting their necessity to your survival. You only look at your bed before deciding it's not even worth the noble fit of tossing and turning. You make sure you are ready for bed before scurrying into Jake’s room and crawling under his sheets. Yet you still can’t shake the feeling of a lurking apparition.

However, the ingested medication now emanating throughout your bloodstream is impervious to your stalking condemnation. You anchor your antidote to the soothing aroma of Jake present in his bedsheets as you are shoved into void.

You recognize the alley as soon as you are there. Beads of frigid rain pelt against your pink achy skin. The crying sky creates a misty halo against neon lights and coats everything it dances upon with a bleary gloss.

You are pinned against the wall in an instant by that vicious and nauseating smile. You try to fight but all at once you are being poked and prodded and beaten into an involuntary submission. Until your rescuer arrives.

Too enervated to attempt escape as your oppressor is distracted, Jake lunges forward. Yet he never makes contact before he falls to the ground, a dark red dye seeping from his center into his clothes. You somehow escape your attacker to see him wielding a blade.

You run to where Jake is withering away on the glittering asphalt. You attempt to cradle him, but he hisses at your touch.

Despite his wounds, he is the one to console you, telling you you’re perfect like he always does. Your only power remains in a helpless squeeze of his hand as he pours out onto the slick black top and you see his light flicker out.

– JAKE –

The headlights of the car illuminate your home sweet home as the chauffeur pulls up the driveway. The incline of the path almost causes light to leak into her bedroom window, where you hope she is fast asleep, deep enough that she won’t be bothered by the slight brightness.

You got home two days earlier than expected and you plan on surprising her in the morning.

God, how you have ached for her, lit yourself on fire for her; all to let it sift through your grasp over some drunken slurs. You wanted her to have space, but hope tomorrow will hold mercy for you as you can’t restrain yourself any longer.

The driver reaches the house and Josh and you exhaustedly crawl out of the vehicle. You retrieve your luggage before sluggishly dragging it and yourselves to the front door. You swear you grow weary with each second of jangling keys as Josh absentmindedly sifts through each metal shard; standing helpless till he feels the right shape in his hand. The click of the lock barely registers as you are greeted by the cool A/C of the foyer and the smell of home.

All vitality spent on your journey, neither of you has spoken a word since you landed. As you start to head your separate ways, you bid each other goodnight through a silent nod.

Only for it to be ambushed by her petrifying heart-grating scream, “JAKE?! JAKE?!”

One might only assume you’re prey to predators the way you instinctively soar to the stairs, up to your level, and towards her room. Without a word, you hear Josh’s footsteps apace behind you.

You almost slam into her door moving so fast. You swing it wide open, mouth agape as she is nowhere in sight. Your heart pounds in your temples as panic now starts to clamp tight around your chest. The only other time you recall this measure of a corrosive dread being the night you couldn’t find her anywhere at that party.

“JAKE?!”

Another scream immediately reveals her location to you. You dart out of her room, down the hall, and into yours.

There she is. Under the warm glow of your salt lamp-lit room, wrapped in your covers, leaking eyes scrunched shut, a lump of muffled indiscernible murmurs and whimpers, and visibly shaking.

“I think she is just having a nightmare,” you authoritatively order Josh out of the room, “I’m going to wake her, but you should go, I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

You pad towards the bed and caress whatever limb you contact first, buried underneath your blankets. Gently, you begin to coo her to consciousness.

She springs to life, petrified by your unrecognizable silhouette under the poor lighting and only just emerged from her dream state. Clumsily, she slips off the bed and tumbles to the floor, disoriented and gasping for air.

The thud from her spilled limbs on the hardwood floor nearly syncs with yours, as your knees plunge to the cold surface the moment you register her fall.

You place your palms visibly out to her, indicating her safety, “Hey- It’s me. It's Jake. I’m home.”

“No- Jake- you- he- he’s gone,” she bewilderedly sobs out almost in a question.

You aren’t sure if she is referring to your trip or something she saw in her dream and is convinced is reality.

You keep trying to rip her from whatever hallucination has its jaws around her, “No, baby, you're safe. You’re home with me, in Nashville. I got in early.”

She finally seems to digest your words, her glassy eyes [partially] pacified by your newly registered presence before whispering your identification, “Jake?”

When it comes to her, your first instinct is always a consoling touch, but you have learned an unsolicited embrace only runs her further from your protection. However, you have to try.

“Yes, babygirl,” you reassure before you approach, not wanting to spook her, “can I come near you?”

You’re astounded when she only responds by leaping into your lap and wrapping herself around your torso.

Within an instant, your arms have gratefully found their seal around her waist. Your calloused fingertips ever so slightly sink into her buzzing flesh, wrestling with every muscle, willing yourself not to tear her apart. How have you starved for the shape of her, the weight of her, the warmth of her very skin. Fuck- to finally hold her again feels so fucking good.

“Jake- this time- and- he got you- then you-,” she fights through stuttering breaths.

“Hey, no more of that,” you gently assert to sedate whatever terroristic figments are plaguing her in your arms, “I’m here now. I've got you.”

Still trembling, she nuzzles her face into your neck and hysterically rasps out, “Jake, please don’t leave me. I can’t- Jacob, I love you. I can’t lose you. I can’t take it!”

You have no idea as to what she saw in her nightmare, only that you have never seen one leave her this rattled. You can feel her at war with her own breath as her panic continues to steal it from her.

A trick from the therapist resurfaces and you take the dips of her waist within your firm grasp to briefly withdraw her from your embrace, “Hey, I’ve got you, but I need you to listen to the sound of my voice. Focus on what I’m saying, okay?”

You don’t wait for her to respond before taking her hand and running it across the material of your blue corduroy jacket, “You feel that? It's your favorite jacket of mine, the one you always steal when we go for a drive.”

You ever so slightly draw yourself back in closer to her, “I need you to take a deep breath. Smell that? It’s the cologne you bought me for my birthday?”

She concentrates on her inhalation, occupied with taking an exaggerated breath. She slowly begins to nod.

You can see the sensory stimulation starting to ground her so you attempt to redirect her focus, “And what did I promise? I need to hear you say it.”

She takes a long shaky breath, “You- You said no more leaving. You promised.”

You place her jaw safely within the shelter of your palm and press your forehead to hers; without warning, you’re captivated by a time of exigency to live off the same breath as her.

“That’s right, and I’m here now and I’m not leaving you again,” you vow.

You scoop her back into your arms and off the floor. She clings to you as you turn off the lamp and cradle her back into the fortress of your bed, curling up around her for safekeeping.

You caress and console and coo until finally, her quaking stops and breathing evens out as she is welcomed back to slumber. The rhythmic rising and falling of her rib cage underneath your touch lulls you into your own dormancy.