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expansionofsoul · 2 years ago

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Profile - Jake Kiszka

Words: 2400

Synopsis: Jake Kiszka is joined by a music journalist as they work together on his profile.

Warnings: None!

Note: In real life, I am a music journalist and have written multiple profiles before - although they are never in English. That being said, this is a completely made up profile. Hope you enjoy this different approach, and I am so sorry for taking this long to write again!

If you’d like to be added to a taglist, let me know. Here is a link to my masterlist, with the rest of my work. :)

Jake offers me another piece of cake. He was excited when I told him I liked chocolate cake, and considered it his duty to offer me as many pieces as he could without making me sick. This would be my third, and his second. I wasn’t exactly truthful when I accepted another piece, as I was so incredibly full I could feel my entire body reacting to the dessert.

As we ate, he kept one of his hands free, so he could touch his birthday candles. Closer to thirty than to twenty, as he had said before. When we first met and he suggested that we did his profile during a weekend in April, I immediately accepted. It was my mistake, as a professional, that I didn’t notice it was his birthday weekend. I called him a few days after our first meeting, and offered another weekend the month after, but he insisted that it was the best date for him, and changing it would make him upset.

That was the first thing I learned about Jake Kiszka - the man, not the guitarist. Other than the quiet, reserved man I was expecting to meet, I was immediately introduced to a very sensitive man, that took every word into consideration during conversations and wanted to make sure everything went the perfect way. Fearing it would make him give up if I, once again, suggested something else, I said I would be at his place on Saturday, first thing in the morning.

The idea was that we would spend that Saturday together, doing interviews as he created new music and celebrated his birthday. I asked him if he was throwing a party, and he denied. This would be one of the first times he would celebrate all by himself - not considering the writer that would quietly keep him company. He did mention that, later that night, one of his siblings would visit, but did not clarify which one. That either meant I would be meeting another member of the band or the one sibling that didn’t end up playing with them.

When I first arrived at around 9 am, he was already expecting me. I knew that because I could see his figure standing by the window, calmly looking outside and trying to figure out which car was mine. He wore light blue pajamas and was starting to make coffee - black, with the tiniest ammount of sugar. Music was playing, and when I did not recognize it, he seemed to find that funny.

Our first interview was conducted as we sipped our coffee. Jake seemed more interested in talking about his art before his personal life, so that was our main topic for a few hours. He didn’t talk for the entire time, making long pauses and asking me if I wanted anything to eat. For about half an hour, in the middle of our conversation, he stopped to cook himself scrambled eggs. During that time, neither of us spoke up, quietly listening to the music.

Jake Kiszka seems to view his music not as an artistic connection to the universe or a job. More often than not, he references music as his own personal way to connect with other people. When I ask him about his favorite part of being a musician, he mentions the look on people’s faces while he plays, or the way he can see the crowd dancing and singing along. When I ask him about the band, he lovingly talks about how much fun his brothers have when they play, no matter how exhausted they all are by the end of a concert. Nothing that he mentions has to do with him, specifically.

For a decade, Jake has been playing with the same three people: his twin brother, Josh, his youngest sibling, Sam, and their friend - although he often refers to him as his own brother as well, Danny Wagner. Jake considers their connection one of the most important reasons why their music works so well, especially during live performances. Besides the obvious connection he has with the other band members, they seem to be able to understand the differences between each other - different music genres they enjoy, the time they need to create, and how they behave on stage.

Jake seems to avoid talking about his brothers in a more personal way at first. He is a perfectionist, not only with his music but with everything that surrounds him. If the interview is about art, he will only mention his art. I ask him about his creation methods and, once again, he finds what I said funny. According to him, his creating processes are more simple than they may seem. Riffs come to him naturally, when he’s playing around with his strings and trying to figure out what sounds good. He enjoys writing with his brothers more than writing alone, because he finds the process easier if they all have the same idea at the same time.

He mentions their latest album, “The Battle at Garden’s Gate”, as one of the most interesting things they have done. In contrast to their first projects, “The Battle at Garden’s Gate” is fuller when it comes to lyrics and their instrumental power. When I tell him that opinion, Jake agrees, and says that, as he grew, he started noticing how much they could do with their music, without falling into rock stereotypes all the time. Lyrically, this album has interesting topics about war, the universe and the way humans interact with nature.

Talking about their first projects as a band, Jake is satisfied with how much they grew, but still looks fondly at everything the band did when they were just teenage boys. The guitarist mentions their early days, when they still lived with their parents and would only play for small crowds, as some of the best years of his life. Jake loses himself telling funny stories about their first performances and the mistakes they made before they learned how the music business worked.

After Jake ordered lunch and we ate together, I saw himself in his home studio, where he seemed to be working on a new song - not specifically one that would be released soon, he clarified. He was ready to talk about his early life and things that were not related to his music, but, even then, music had to involved somehow. I assume that is why he decided to create as we spoke, as if some of the things he talked about would bring him inspiration. He was playing one of his multiple acoustic guitars when we started our second interview of the day.

Jake can’t remember when he first started to show interest in becoming a musician. He mentions the fact that his mother had probably spoken about it during other interviews, but he wanted his profile to be built by his own words. He does remember the fact that music is one of his earliest memories. Joined by his brother, Josh, they would sit and listen to their dad’s vinyl collection for hours. As soon as they were able to walk and talk, playing pretend and performing for their family became a current activity. His own father, Kelly Kiszka, is also a musician, and introduced instruments to the boys very early on.

Other than music, he was interested in film and sports. Acting on his brother’s short films is another memory he carries with a lot of love. Josh used to write scripts for horror films - some of them worse than the others - and they would invite friends over to act with them. Their sister, Veronica, would also join them sometimes. All of the siblings are incredibly close in age, which is one of the reasons why they could be seen hanging out together quite often.

As soon as Sam became old enough, he joined his other siblings and, later, joined the band as well. Jake considers himself as an overly protective brother. Whenever something happens to one of his siblings, it is not uncommon that he will blame himself for not being able to stop the situation and protect them with his life. I ask him if that also happens when people criticize his brothers for their music or talent, to which he replies with: “they know they’re good”.

Jake recognizes how fortunate he is to have such a good relationship with his parents. He mentions that it is often an issue for artists, but it was not his case. Karen Kiszka, his mother, always knew her sons would become artists, by his record. He remembers how he wanted to make her proud by working hard at school and getting good grades, but it was never entirely possible. It surprises him that, even though he “wasn’t the brightest”, she would still tell him how proud she was of him and his siblings. Jake also shares that he believes none of what happened to the brothers would have happened without that support. They were teens making music at home, and Jake doesn’t know how all of the noise didn’t drive his mother insane.

I ask him about his birthday. Jake has, obviously, always shared a birthday with his brother. That doesn’t seem to be an issue, as he talks about their celebrations with joy. Getting older seems to be a tough topic, and I don’t need to ask him why, as he talks about it before I even get a chance. Jake feels as if his years are shorter than anyone else’s. Touring has turned his months into days and the months he has for himself are resumed to one or two every year. Celebrating his birthday with his twin brother is often one of the only times he feels like himself again. For this year, they have decided to celebrate separately, and it seemed like a good decision at first, but he admits that he was feeling incredibly lonely.

When asked about touring, Jake is more interested in talking about his relationship with the fans. I let him talk, without many direct questions. Jake is very grateful for the people that have listened to their music for more than a decade, and is also grateful for everyone who came after their sudden new wave of popularity. He saw as their crowds changed slowly, from family and friends to locals, from locals to unknown older people, from unknown older people to an younger audience. He says he knows instantly when a person recognizes him at a public place, and he finds it funny how, sometimes, they won’t say anything at all.

“Most of the people just tell me they love me or the band and thank us for the music. Sometimes, they’ll ask me about the most specific things, and I’m not sure how to respond. Especially if we’re at a bar and I’ve had a few”, he laughs at his own comment, and I join him. When I ask him about any unfortunate situations, he refuses to comment, but lets me know that there have certainly been some.

When he is done with that song for the day - a gorgeous fast paced song - he lets me know he bought cake for his birthday, and he wants me to eat with him. It is not often that I am invited to write a profile from inside the home of an artist, and Jake also tells me about how this was a first time experience for him. His relationship with music journalists doesn’t seem to be the best, although he appreciates their kindness and how well they treated him. If I could see inside his brain, I would say he finds us to be rather pretentious. I agree.

We talk for two hours, without any journalistic intents, before he gets a phone call. He excuses himself before he opens the door. I, luckily, recognize the person who just joined us for the small party. The same set of kind eyes, the same eyebrows and the same nose. The brothers hug each other for more than a minute, and Josh seems to know who I am, or at least know what I’m doing at his brother’s house.

He asks not to be interviewed, as if he had guessed what would come out of my mouth. Other than that, he sits and joins us, eating the rest of the cake. Jake doesn’t want to mention what was talked about, even though they were incredibly simple topics. Josh gives him a sweater, and Jake tells him he hates it. Jake gives him a book, without giving me a chance to look at the cover.

I offer to do the dishes. They tell me I don’t need to do them, but I insist. Jake leaves with his brother and they sit on the living room as I wash all of our plates and glasses. He yells from the living room, trying to get his voice to be louder than the TV, and tells me he has to be the first person to write the profile when it’s done. I promise him I would make sure no one would read it. By the end of our day, I didn’t know what to write.

Jake Kiszka is a very simple man. A very simple brother and friend. A very complicated musician. His creativity is almost blinding, and it is easy to miss the exact second when he gets an idea that turns a good song into a masterpiece. Jake Kiszka sees himself as a lonely man, but has so much love for his friends and family that it would be hard mentioning every single person that has ever been loved by him. His house is as simple as he is, and he decided to welcome me and share his life, his birthday, and his cake. He treated me as a friend, and let me ask as many questions as I wanted to.

As I prepare to tell them I’m leaving, I notice the TV volume is slightly lower. The twins are sat together, Jake sleeping on Josh’s shoulder. I wave goodbye as I leave, trying not to make too much noise. Jake is wearing his new sweater.

By the time you are reading this, Jake Kiszka has already read it twice. He admits that he loves the sweater.

#jake kiszka fanfiction #Greta Van Fleet #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fan fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fic #jake kiszka

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Love Letter - Josh Kiszka x Reader

Couple: Josh Kiszka/Original character

Words: 1155

Synopsis: Daydreaming about him kept you from freaking out every time work got too busy. He seemed to know that.

Warnings: none instead a cute relationship is a content warning to you (it is to me).

Author’s note: It came to me this afternoon that Josh Kiszka is exactly the type of guy to write you an overly dramatic letter while you’re just doing something normal. It also came to me that he would be the guy to write the love letter Alex Turner wrote to Alexa Chung. So this is why I wrote it :)

You were used to work being the worst part of your day. It had been like that for years, but rarely it would get this busy. Sometimes, it seemed like all of your coworkers would stop doing their job and every demand would be given to you, even if that meant you had to spend extra hours making sure everything was done for the next day. You knew this wasn’t something you should get used to, but you still needed that job.

When things got hard, fantasizing was your go-to distraction. It was easier to imagine a world where you didn’t have to worry about your finances and politics, where everything was as beautiful as the dreams you would have every once in a while, the scent of flowers and a constant state of happiness making sure you stayed sane and healthy for your next busy day.

Fantasizing about him was also one of your favorite things to do. You could remember everything about him, even when you didn’t see him for months. Every time you would stretch your hands, you could feel his soft skin against yours, his touch like fire, burning every part of your body. Sometimes, and that was something you didn’t like to admit, it felt as if your insides knew you missed him, your whole body functioning only so you could see him again the next time.

Demand after demand, you imagined a life where you didn’t have to worry about anything other than making him the happiest person to ever live. It sounded stupid to everyone else but you that most of your plans to the future were based on someone you saw a few times in a year, but it just felt like the right thing to do. He was your best friend for so long, way before he became your lover, your confidant. You owed him a portion of your happiness, and he owed you a life without longing, without waiting for him.

You were staring at the clock, waiting for the hours to pass, when a coworker finally interrupted your state of dreaming. With the same worried eyes everyone would give you when you got too quiet in the office, he handed you a white rose, one of your favorites. You instantly knew who it was from, and it put a smile on your face almost immediately. He seemed to relax, then, and handed you a piece of paper before going back to his desk. You opened the letter, recognizing the calligraphy that was so familiar to you.

“My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since, well, before any kiss.”

You knew what he was talking about all too well. Joshua never seemed to stop mentioning your first date. Your first real date, to be exact. It wasn’t a surprise when you finally became a thing, years and years of waiting for the other to make a move, but a platonic loving relationship felt more appropriate and way more comfortable. That night, it was almost impossible to not kiss him, your lips dry with expectation for something that seemed to take forever.

Kissing Joshua was like first learning something new, and realizing you were actually really good at it. It felt like coming home after a long vacation, and finding your stuff patiently waiting for you. It felt like drowning yourself in multiple blankets at once until it got unbearably hot. Kissing Joshua was, possibly, the best decision you had ever made.

“And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.”

The prospect of kissing Joshua forever was terrifying, yet nothing but what you had expected from the beginning. Your relationship with him felt like forever expecting for something unnatural to happen, like a struck of lightning or a star falling to the ground, something that would force the both of you to look at the world in a different way. Some change of heart that would force you to be together and never apart.

Yet, it was more terrifying to have a romantic relationship and be far away from him most of the time. That was the unnatural thing you had hoped would happen for years and years. Joshua would give up on his dreams to start a band with his brothers, and now there wasn’t a single day where you didn’t hear his name coming from another mouth. The speculation of not being seen with him just enough to be considered a girlfriend, and yet being seen just enough to become a made up character, someone who was only real when relating to him.

Your thoughts about him now carried an ultraviolence. You wanted to lock him in a room to have him all by yourself, and still his freedom was the most attractive thing you could have ever wished for. You wished you could wake up by his side everyday, but opening your eyes to see him every once in a while was a surprise you still loved.

He signed his name at the end of the letter, with a messy heart drawn in red ink right next to it. You took a picture of it while you held your rose, and sent it to him. You didn’t need to wait much longer when someone asked to go to the reception, and the idea of dropping your work routine sounded oh, so exciting. It wasn’t until you saw him from afar that your conscience finally hit you. He was right there, waiting for you, and his mouth would not shut up about you, even for a little while, stopping only to kiss you once more, and forever.

Joshua patiently waited for you to be done with work, sat on a couch outside of your office as you hurried to get everything done in time to have dinner with him. Cheeky smiles were thrown at you every time someone would notice him, and you couldn’t help but enjoy how much everyone was in love with him. Not as much as you. Never, ever as much as you.

The letter was pressed closely to your chest when you were finally free to be with him for the evening, the black ink carving every word to your skin, as if being his was your final destination. He smiled as he saw you again, and held your hand as you got out.

“What do you wanna do, baby?”, he asked, holding your waist as you walked down the street.

“I don’t know, I kind of feel like making that pretty mouth of yours shut up.”

- -

@doodle417

If you’d like to read more of my work, check out my masterlist!

#greta van fleet fluff #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fanfiction #greta van fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Masterlist - Greta Van Fleet

Hi! Now that I’ve posted stories about all of the boys, I wanted to make a post so that I can keep everything organized. This would also make it easier if you’d like to read something else after you’ve finished one of my works!

I’m going to update this and reblog it when I post something new! :)

Jake Kiszka

Hand in Hand: You take Jake as your plus-one to your brother’s wedding. 3.2k words. Warning for a tough relationship with family.

Profile: Jake Kiszka is joined by a music journalist to write his profile.

More coming soon!

Josh Kiszka

Heart’s Desire: You’ve just lost your mother, and a kind boy named Josh helps you recover. 6 chapters. 24k words. Warnings for drug use, past abusive relationships, grief, religious imagery and non explicit sexual acts.

Love Letter: Josh writes you a letter to let you know he is thinking of you. 1.1k words. No warnings!

More coming soon!

Sam Kiszka

Last Night: In your dreams, you have to solve a murder case with an unkown man. 8k words. Warnings for murder, blood and non explicit sexual acts.

More coming soon!

Danny Wagner

I Feel it Everywhere: No one shows up to your book release, and the boy who helped you at the bookstore keeps you company for the day. 2.5k words. No warnings!

More coming soon!

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fanfiction #danny wagner #danny wagner fanfiction #Greta Van Fleet #gvf fanfiction #greta van fic #greta van fleet masterlist #masterlist

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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I Feel It Everywhere - Daniel Wagner x Reader

Author’s note: Sometimes, I feel like my stories lack action. Especially because most of what’s written about the boys is so amazing and so much fun. But, for Danny, I needed it to be short and sweet. Hope you enjoy it! As always, requests are open if you’d like to see anything specific :).

Couple: Danny Wagner/Original Female Character

Words: 2576

Synopsis: When no one shows up for your book release, the kind boy who helped you at the bookstore is the only one to give you attention.

Warnings: None! Just fluff :)

Right now, there was only one topic keeping you from being completely happy and content with how your life was going. The book cover you had chosen, helped design and approved a few weeks ago seemed boring. It not only looked boring, but tacky too. You could imagine a young teen coming into the bookstore, looking at you in your fancy work clothes, looking at the book cover and laughing without any sense of secrecy. The yellow screamed ‘I’m a desperate author trying to sell poetry books, please have mercy’, and the way you had dressed to the occasion made you look like an old secretary.

The bookstore was especially empty today. You knew from the start they wouldn’t give you a good day, because poetry books didn’t exactly gather big amounts of people and money. Still, you wished it wasn’t a monday, so you could have a few bored couples paying you a slight amount of attention. You looked to your sides, desperately trying to find another person, with no success.

Something, this squeaky little voice that refused to leave, no matter how hard you tried, was saying this wasn’t worth it. You knew being a writer wouldn’t make you rich, but you didn’t expect to be this broke. In fact, you had no idea if you would have enough money by the end of the week. The voice mixed itself with your mother’s voice, telling you how much she expected from you when you were a kid, and how much you had disappointed her by doing the exact opposite. It was funny, actually, how even your own mother missed your book release. She wasn’t the most affectionate person in the world, but it still hurt not to see a familiar face walking in, with a kind smile on her face, telling you that it was alright, and that someday you would have something to be proud of.

“I’m sure they’ll arrive soon”, a now familiar voice said. You looked up to see a mess of curly hair trying to fit itself inside of a tiny hat. He looked at the table, set with his help, and back at you, with a kind smile that you weren’t used to seeing lately. “Sometimes releases can be tough. People are too shy to approach the writer, so they’ll wait until the next day to check the book out. I’ve seen it happen a million times before.”

“Or maybe they’re not interested”, you contest, making sure your back was straight, to give you an illusion of power and confidence that would end up only making you seem more nervous. He caught that immediately, his facial expression telling you that he knew just how much you were suffering. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I would very much like to be left alone right now.”

“Isn’t that what got you upset in the first place?”, he asked. With your furrowed brows, he continued soon after. “Being alone. You didn’t seem too happy about it before.”

You weren’t shy when you looked him in the eye, trying to get a sense of his appearance before you decided to truly trust him. The first thing that came to mind was that he looked like an old painting, features so prominent and noticeable that it was impossible to miss him. Still, he seemed shy enough to go unnoticed until he finally decided to show himself. You thought about it, noticing his long nose, his kind, deep eyes and the hair that desperately needed some special attention.

Over analyzing people was your special gift. He didn’t need to say anything when you first saw him, and opinions about him were already settled. The only real fact you knew about him was that he was called Daniel and he worked at the bookstore, but that was enough.

You could tell that he was the one they called when no one else wanted to do the job, and he would be nice enough to never say no. In fact, it seemed as if he carried himself with so much joy and pride that you even considered that he might as well enjoy doing the hard work, standing in an empty bookstore for hours in the company of someone who wasn’t exactly the most exciting person in the world. He helped you set your space with so much care and attention that you didn’t remember feeling tired at all. The look on his face right now, as you looked at him with so much patience and no particular shame, proved to you that he was exactly what he looked to be: someone to count on.

“What is it about?”, he asked, breaking the silence that filled the room as soon as you started analyzing him profoundly. “I like the cover, it’s very… happy!”

You giggled at his comment, and he followed you as soon as he noticed it was okay to do so. “I know, I guess I was inspired when I approved it”, you said, grabbing one of the books, acting as if he was a client, a potential reader. “It’s about my connection with nature and myself, I would say. I’m not a particularly positive person, so it took me a while to finally understand that I was put in this world to enjoy it to its full capacity.”

Daniel seemed as interesting as someone could get about poetry, his polite eyes glued to your hands as you showed him the different poems you had written. He tried asking questions about each and every one of them, suddenly taking your focus out of the empty bookstore. You read some of the poetry for him, your eyes never leaving the pages as a way to avoid seeing his face when he reacted to the words that came out of your mouth.

“You know, I think sometimes we are too focused on how busy we are to really understand how beautiful this world is”, he said. By the end of your reading session, he was sitting beside you, with his legs crossed and his face resting on his hands. He had taken off his hat, making his messy, full hair hug his features even more. You noticed how you couldn’t stop looking at him, a magnetism so unknown that it scared you. “It’s hard to understand the capacity of the Earth when you’re stuck here, cleaning dusty books and trying to find the perfect french dictionary for an old lady.”

“The world truly is a beautiful place, Daniel”, you explained. You could feel your body trying to get closer to his, desperate for his warmth and his kindness. You could feel it everywhere. “It can get harder to recognize it when we’re used to sad moments. Not so easy to think about flowers and stars and the moon when all you can see in front of you is a table filled with books that will never be bought.”

“Don’t say that”, he scolded you, making you laugh while you looked at his serious face, eyes almost closed. “I’m going to force every single customer to buy this. You’re gonna come back here and see them all gone.”

“What would you like to be doing right now, Daniel?”, you asked. He waited for you to continue your idea. “If you weren’t stuck here with me, looking at that door and waiting for the day to end. What would you like to be doing?”

He thought for a second. You couldn’t stop thinking about how lovely he looked right there, with his features so relaxed with the slight break he got from work, a tired look that made his mouth drop to a frown and his eyes look even deeper. Even then, stressed and tired, he looked precious.

“I wish I could be doing something else for work”, he explained. “I’ve always wanted to play in a band. My friends and I started one, but it’s not working at all.”

“Why isn’t it working?”, you asked.

“None of us have time or money to invest”, Daniel said. “We’re pretty good, but that’s not enough nowadays. We need contacts, money for better instruments, places to play in and fans.”

You laughed. You could tell he didn’t understand why. “I guess we’re both failed artists, aren’t we?”

“You’re not failing”, he said. You felt the sudden urge to hug him, to stay next to him as you waited for time to go by. He was inviting like no one you knew, and it was almost impossible to control yourself. “Look at you, with your fancy outfit and all your books. This is not what someone who’s failing looks like.”

“Do you mind sitting on the floor with me, Daniel?”, you asked. He looked as if he was just waiting for you to ask him to do it. “I don’t think anyone is coming anyways.”

Daniel took his time finding a place for the both of you to sit comfortably, enjoying each other’s company in the best way possible. His arm surrounded your shoulders as you sat down, every movement feeling so natural and common that neither of you seemed to question or even notice it at all. You stopped to think of a moment in your life when you felt this comfortable around someone you didn’t know, but nothing came to your head.

“Thank you for saying that. About the books”, you clarified. “Being a writer can be really painful and lonely sometimes, and I don’t particularly enjoy being alone.”

“There is something you’re not considering”, he said, letting his head rest on your shoulder. You resisted the urge to play with his fluffy hair, committing to simply enjoying the smell of his shampoo. “Art is never a lonely concept. When you’re writing, it doesn’t matter if it’s a book or a song, you’re interacting with the world somehow, even if no one seems to notice you.”

“I don’t think someone ever noticed me, to be honest”, you explained.

“I did, didn’t I?”, you nodded, making him laugh. “I think you’re just scared to show yourself to the world, to make sure they hear you when you scream your beautiful words about nature and how you interact with it. Everyone has a public, Y/N, you just need to find it.”

Conscience was becoming harder and harder to achieve, his touch and warmth so inviting that you could feel yourself getting sleepy. You wondered if you could fall asleep with him, platonically, just to know what it felt like to be held by open arms and an open heart. “Do you think you’ll ever find your public in time to feel good about your art?”

“Yeah, I think so. People love music”, Daniel explained. “Sometimes, when we have the opportunity to play somewhere, we finish our set and I look at the crowd and see one face that looks satisfied with what they heard. That’s all you need, at the end of the day, to be perceived and to let yourself be perceived in a way that’s not controlled by you, but caused by something you did.”

“I think you should be a writer, Dan”, he giggled, pressing a kiss to your head. You were surprised by his gesture, but you didn’t need him to know. “Maybe you’re better at my job than I will ever be.”

“No, I think you’re the better writer. It takes strength to write a book, and even more to show up and let people react to your feelings”, he said.

“Well, no one is reacting to it”, his body felt tighter next to yours, as if the mention of your failure made him tense. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop mentioning it.”

Daniel hugged your body tighter, like he wanted to protect you from the bookshelves. “It’s alright. I’m just sad no one else is here to enjoy it.”

You didn’t feel the need to reply. In fact, it was probably your body giving up, making you so comfortable that it would be impossible to stay awake at that moment. You never took naps, but this time, it felt like a necessity. Daniel felt it too, your bodies and minds connected in a way that felt like home.

When you woke up, you were both lying on the ground, legs intertwined and kind, soft hands pressed to your back. You carefully lifted your head to watch as he slept, but his body knew you were awake before his mind came back to life. It took you both time to adjust to the situation, and when Daniel realized where you were, his whole face became contorted into a panic you hadn’t seen before.

“Fuck, Y/N, we forgot to lock the doors”, he said, his voice desperate and low at the same time. “I’m gonna check the cashier, you stay right here until I come back.”

When Daniel came back, his face seemed a little calmer. “I guess no one came in at all”, he explained. “Don’t you just love mondays?”

‘Oh, I do, but don’t you think your boss is gonna freak out? You fell asleep during your shift, I am so terribly sorry for that”, you tried justifying yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, it felt nice to relax after all.”

Deja vu hit you like a rock when the both of you started taking your books from the table, Daniel carefully organizing them in one of the bookshelves. You watched as he worked, muscles relaxed and a calm expression. “I think I have to go”, you explained. He stopped what he was doing to look at you.

“Oh, okay”, his voice was high. “Look, I know this was an atypical way of meeting, but I would love to see you again sometime, if that’s fine by you.”

You nodded, trying not to look like a teenager, so excited about a date that you could scream. “Yeah, that sounds great! Can you give me your number?”

Daniel took your phone, typing as you watched. “It was great meeting you, Y/N.”

“It felt amazing being heard, Dan.”

- - -

The familiar room now seemed filled with people. It was a Saturday, and everyone was suddenly interested in books. Your jeans were tight around your hips, and you wished you had chosen something else to wear. It didn’t take you long to find him, his hair on a ponytail and his work uniform making him look a little silly. He didn’t see you, but you saw everything about him. Especially, you saw the thing in his hand, as he talked to one of the customers. The vibrant yellow cover seemed recognizable from miles away, but now it didn’t look too bad. The customer paid attention to him as he passionately described something, not even looking at them anymore. He seemed lost inside his own world, and he looked amazing. You saw as the customer nodded and took your book from his hands, thanking him.

You silently approached him. “I should be paying you 10% for all of your marketing work”. His whole body jumped as he heard your voice from behind him.

“Just doing my job”, he explained. “As your number one fan.”

You laughed at his comment, hugging him tight. His warm skin brushing against yours in a delicious way you were starting to get used to. You felt it everywhere, in your arms, your tummy, your face and your heart. “Are you ready to go?”

@doodle417

#Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fanfic #danny wagner #fanfiction #greta van fic #gvf fanfiction

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

Text

Last Night - Sam Kiszka x Reader

Couple: Sam Kiszka/Original Female Character

Words: 8010

Synopsis: The room feels like an invitation. When you fall asleep, your dreams show you a reality of love and murder, and Sam Kiszka needs your help figuring it out.

Warnings: Murder, blood, mentions of sex (not explicit)

Author’s note: Hi, friends! This took me a long time, and if I had more free time I would have made it a longer story! This is my first time writing anything about Sam. The plot is based on the film “Last Night in Soho”, by Edgar Wright. As always, requests are open! If you would like to be tagged next time I post a story, please let me know :)

The first time it happened, you thought you were losing your mind. Your luck didn’t seem like the best at that time, and there was a wandering question of what you had done to deserve everything that was happening to you.

Firstly, there was school: something kept telling you that moving to a completely new city to pursue your dreams wasn’t exactly the brightest idea you ever had, not only because it meant you had to be completely lonely, but because you weren’t even sure if that was your biggest dream anymore. You spent all your time, your money and your mental health with something that just felt like an insertity now.

Second of all, you were broke. College was expensive, all of your money well earned from work was being spent by renting a shitty place that felt like a shoe box and buying food that never tasted good enough to make you feel full. If that wasn’t enough, it seemed as if you were destined to make the worst decisions possible, impulsively buying clothes that you would never wear and makeup that you didn’t know how to apply. At the start of the semester, it did seem like a good idea, because you were sure that you would be invited to every party. Now, as you sat alone in your room, you wondered what your grandmother would have thought of your lifestyle.

With all of that combined, it seemed only fair that you would also be going nuts. But you didn’t know this was how it was going to happen. You thought it would happen during class, with you snapping suddenly and freaking out your classmates with your ugly crying. Or maybe you would go the other way, getting so drunk at parties that you just forgot everything you ever learned, slowly becoming the failure you knew deep inside that you already were.

But you never thought it would start with a dream. That was the worst origin story ever, someone who lost their minds over a dream that didn’t even seem that realistic. You could never write a book about that, they would never make you a star for being a heavy sleeper. Even with that strong opinion about yourself, you knew from the beginning that something felt off, and your biggest fear was that you were never going to be able to explain that to someone else.

It was a club, one that you didn’t recognize. It’s not like you could possibly recognize any club, for that matter, but this one seemed oddly even more unfamiliar. Inside your own head, aware that you were dreaming, you tried gathering all your cinema knowledge to try and figure out from which movie you had taken this club from. Even with all of your information, you felt a little lost, and wondered how your mind projected something completely new just for a silly dream.

Every color seemed to blind you as soon as you looked at it. A shameless mixture of red, yellow and blue that would probably be considered something out of fashion nowadays, and that is how you knew you were dreaming about a different decade. The tables surrounding the dance floor were also vibrant red, and filled with people that you didn’t seem to know. You tried recognizing some of those faces as movie stars or musicians, but nothing came to mind. They were complete strangers, and they didn’t seem to know who you were either, looking at you with a strange gaze before returning to their previous activities.

But something about that club was not right. Of course, it might have been because you had never seen it before, but it seemed realistic in weird senses that you did not expect. You could smell sweat, so strong and suffocating that you had to focus on stopping your breathing every five seconds so you wouldn’t be sick. You could also see the sweat glued to people’s hair, back and arms, like a shiny cover that protected them, and it would have looked disgusting if people weren’t so goddamn attractive.

You took your time analyzing everything, trying to touch people discreetly enough that they wouldn’t be surprised. You wondered when you would wake up, and why you were locked inside a dream with no plot, no real reason to exist except for the troubling sensations. Nothing happened for what felt like hours. Until you hear someone screaming from the nearest bathroom, and the room becomes completely silent at the sound.

Someone comes out of the bathroom first. It’s a woman, you could guess she was just a little bit older than you, wearing a silver dress that came to the top of her thighs. She wasn’t screaming anymore, but she was carrying an expression that you could only imagine would come from someone who had just seen a ghost. A man, older and obviously wealthier, held her waist as he guided her to the other side of the club, giving her a glass of water.

The second person to come out of the bathroom was a young man, and the first thing you noticed was that his bare chest was completely covered in flesh blood.

“Francis!”, the girl beside you screamed, running to hug him. He stopped her before she could press her body against the blood, and held her face with both of his hands to talk to her.

“They killed Harmony”, his tone was desperate, skin so white that it made him seem sick. “We need to call the police, she’s dead!”

Your heart was beating fast, your eyes still closed after the shock of seeing the blood covering his skin, the smell of sweat and the taste of alcohol lingering like it didn’t want to leave you. It took you a few moments to finally realize that you were awake, and laying in bed. The room was so warm that you almost forgot it was the middle of winter, and your entire body was completely covered in sweat.

The dream seemed to stay with you, and you could remember everything all too well. The vision of flesh blood, red and liquid, was a terrifying memory. You were never too squeamish, but you also couldn’t deny that thinking of it made you a little nauseous and extremely nervous. It wasn’t even the blood that scared you, but the fact that it was human blood taken from someone by violence. You thought about the despair in the man’s voice, and imagined him washing himself that evening and taking too long to get the blood off his chest, forced to revive the same view. Everyone seemed to know her, and you were confused as of why no one noticed beforehand when she left and didn’t return, only to be found murdered in a dirty restroom.

Your phone reminded you of college, and the day went by quickly, your mind never leaving that same club, trying to understand exactly what happened. It’s not like people around you actually tried to take you out of your thoughts, since everyone seemed distant and confused as to why you were there. This had been happening since day one, like you were placed in the wrong place, not belonging next to these people, who all had too much to say to everyone else but you. As classes started and ended, the constant vision of the man haunted you, nothing you could possibly do would have ever stopped you from thinking of him.

When you tried falling asleep again, after mountains of homework and smoked cigarettes, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something, although you were not really sure what, was in the back of your head, telling you that you shouldn’t try going back to a dream that wasn’t even a good one. It wasn’t even a dream, but a nightmare filled with blood and murder and no conclusions. Even with all the resistance your own body was pulling out of nowhere to keep you awake, you felt tiredness drowning you slowly, pulling you into a state of conscience that you didn’t recognize.

You look at your own body, knowing the outfit you had on was not yours. You wondered if you were even at the same place, but the bright colors were now familiar enough that you knew exactly where you were. People around you looked calm, a chaotic mixture of loud music and drugs making the club look smaller than it actually was, smoke blocking your view from every face in front of you. Still, you knew exactly where he was, your body floating like a feather in his direction, the soft touch of your dress against your skin when the breeze hit you making you shiver.

Francis was sitting next to two other men, the three of them looking exactly like the people you would expect to meet at a place like that. The autonomy of your body during a dream scared you again when you felt your heart beating faster at the thought of talking to people you didn’t know. You took your time paying attention to their appearance, all of them with luscious long hair and sunglasses.

One of them noticed you first, throwing you a smile you knew well. Funny how men didn’t change even with the passage of decades. He pointed to the seat next to him, and shook some of his curly hair from his face.

“Hey, doll”, he said, as you sat down after his invitation. “I’ve never seen you here before, are you new?”

“I’ve been here before”, you explained, obviously keeping the fact that you weren’t exactly real, and neither were them. “I guess I’m just not that negotiable.”

Francis laughed, now paying full attention to you, his whole body trying to adapt to your unknown presence, a dash of anxiety making his legs shake in his seat. The other man, wearing a hat and sharing a blunt with the one that had talked to you first, smiled confidently, his aura so dark and magnificent that you had to look away or you would feel yourself shrinking as he looked at you.

“I’m Daniel”, the one with the curly hair talked to you again, now offering his hand so you could shake it. You did as he offered, as he pointed with his other hand to the men sitting with him. “That’s Jacob and Francis. We play here sometimes, when they don’t have anyone else playing disco music.”

Francis seemed to recognize you for just a second, but you knew this wouldn’t be possible. You knew him, though, and you could feel he still felt nervous after the whole situation unfolded right in front of him. You couldn’t imagine feeling comfortable enough to go back to the place where you found a dead body, especially of someone you previously knew. He had his body turned to face you, as Daniel and Jacob discussed the fact that disco music wouldn’t survive enough to become memorable. The comment made you laugh, but they were too deep into the conversation to notice. Francis, however, couldn’t care less about their screaming and discussing, attentively looking while you sipped on a drink someone had left on the table. Not your safest choice, but it was a dream after all.

“I like your vest”, you finally said, and he seemed to be scared when you noticed he was looking at you. “You come here often, Francis?”

He struggled to get his words out, for some reason. Thinking about a man with this appearance, with this obvious charisma suddenly becoming shy as you spoke to him made you smile.

“I do, yes”, he responded, stopping to smoke. “Jacob started bringing me with him when I was a teenager and I never stopped.”

The small talk had barely started and it was already killing you slowly with anticipation for your real questions to be answered by him. But, and that hurt to admit, you still needed him to trust you enough so that he would tell you all he knew. You also knew that, if you wanted him to open up to you, you needed him to be vulnerable, and you only knew one way of making that possible in such a short amount of time.

And he also seemed to know where this conversation would end.

“Is Jacob your friend?”, you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

“No, he’s my brother”, Francis clarified. “You couldn’t tell?”

“Oh, I can definitely see the resemblance now that I really think of it”, you laughed with him. Crossing your legs, you let the skin of your thighs be more exposed. You watched as Francis’ eyes followed your moves. “But he’ll have to excuse me, you’re way more handsome.”

Francis laughed, moving his eyes back to your face. He reached out to your legs, touching one of your knees gently as he got his mouth closer to your ear.

“Look, babe, I know exactly what you want. And I’m gonna give it to you”, he whispered. You looked to the side, to see if Jacob and Daniel noticed his behavioral shift. “But first, I want us to talk. Does that sound good?”

His touch was a surprise to you. You didn’t expect it to feel this realistic, and you knew this was a dumb thought to have at this point, considering how everything else felt so real. Even then, it was shocking when he reached for you and touched your bare skin. His touch on your knee felt as warm as his breath on your ear, and your entire body reacted by getting even closer to him. “Sounds amazing, Francis.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your name”, he said, more as a question. His hand was still on your knee, his fingers grazing slightly up your thigh.

“It’s Y/N”, you answered. “What do you do for fun in town when you’re not here?”

“I don’t know. I like to write music, I like to read”, he explained. “Although I’m not having much time to do anything these last few days.”

You wanted to be direct. You wanted to catch him by surprise and ask him about the murder, about the blood covering his body, if he had any idea of who would be capable of doing something like that. There was something keeping you from doing just that, and you knew that it was the fact that no one else in that club knew who you were. You had mentioned that it wasn’t your first time there, but no one noticed you the first time, the dream so short and confusing that you weren’t really sure if the characters inside of it could even see you. You also couldn’t tell him that this was the most realistic dream you had ever had, so realistic that you could directly interfere with what was going on and interact with the people around you.

So you stayed in character.

“Tough days?”, you asked, and he nodded, refusing to continue his thought. “Do you mind sharing?”

“I’d rather not talk about it”, Francis explained. “It would make a pretty girl like you freak out. And I need you to be with me tonight, so I’d like it if we talked about something else.”

You tried to think of a topic. Anything that would get him so entertained that he would instantly trust you more. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Anything that has a soul”, he explained, and you wondered if he meant it or was just trying to sound smart. “It doesn’t even have to sound good, it just has to have some meaning to it, or else it’s just noises coming out from an empty heart.”

“I think all music should matter”, he looked at you funny, trying to make sense out of what you were saying. “It doesn’t have to be completely honest to be good. Sometimes, the best art we can make is produced when we’re lying to ourselves.”

“Do you lie to yourself a lot?”, he asked, his hand now settled on the middle of your thigh.

“No, I don’t think I do”, you answered, making him laugh. “But I’m not a musician, or an artist.”

Francis’ skin was warm and inviting, and every time one of you would say something you could feel each other getting closer and closer, so attracted to the other’s energy that it felt impossible to be apart.

“Then what are you?”, he asked, his voice lower than ever.

“A traveler, I would say.”

“And what are you looking for?”, now it was your time to touch his thigh, ignoring the other people present. You could tell Daniel and Jacob were quiet, not observing you, but not knowing how to continue a conversation while you and Francis connected.

“You know what I’m looking for already, Francis”, you explained, and he nodded. “Why don’t we leave so I can tell you all about it?”

That night, you let Francis take you to bed. For some reason, you weren’t sure anymore that this had a purpose, letting yourself go as he touched you, sensations more realistic than the ones you had in real life. He felt so warm that your skin was melting, and the sweat connecting the two of you felt like a reminder that you needed to let him know that you didn’t know if this was a dream anymore.

As you laid on his bed, your head resting on his bare chest, you reminded yourself of your motive. You started opening your mouth to speak when he interrupted you. “Can you call me Sam?”

You laughed. “What? Isn’t your name Francis?”, he nodded.

“Francis is my middle name. Jacob started telling people I was Francis when I was a teenager, just in case my other siblings or my parents came looking for me when I was alone at the club”, you felt the need to press yourself harder against his body as he told the story. “They would look for a Samuel, not a Francis.”

“Okay, Sam”, he smiled. “I can do that.”

You spent about an hour speaking about life, the music you liked and the plans you both had for the future. It hurt you that his future had already arrived, and he was just a fraction of your imagination, a weird dream that seemed never ending. Sam looked at you with admiration, and you wondered how many times he had taken other people from the club to bed. Certainly, never with the intention of telling him that it was all a dream and that you had slept with him to ask him about a murder.

“Look, Sam, I need to tell you something”, you started, and he sat on the bed to pay attention to you. “I know this is going to sound like the weirdest thing you have ever heard, but I need you to trust me, okay?”

He nodded, kissing your head as you sat with him.

“This isn’t real”, you explained.

“Of course it isn’t, babe, we just met.”

“I mean this whole thing”, you felt the need to clarify, too nervous to sound sane. “You’re just a person inside one of my most vivid dreams. I come from the year 2022, this is not a real setting.”

Sam strangely didn’t react to it at all, too high to understand what was going on. He just looked at you, hoping you would continue talking.

“I first met you yesterday, when I showed up at the club in my dreams. Your chest was covered in blood and you mentioned a girl named Harmony, who had just been killed in the bathroom.”

“See, this is where you’re wrong”, he whispered, like he was too scared to talk about it out loud. “Harmony died a month ago. The police interrogated all of us and still haven’t found the person who did it.”

“This happened in my dreams, Sam, you’re not a real person”, you tried explaining. You couldn’t deny just how interesting it was that someone that only existed inside of your mind was trying to prove to you that they were, in fact, completely real. “Harmony’s murder happened yesterday while I was sleeping. I woke up, had class and came back to bed to try and find you again. None of this is real, but it feels more realistic than my normal life.”

“So, let’s say this is real. I’m not a human being, I’m a creation of your brain. You live in the year 2022, and watched me from a distance as I saw one of my friends, completely covered in blood and dead”, Sam started, distancing your bodies, making sure he could look at you as he spoke. “Why did you sleep with me?”

You had to admit to yourself that you didn’t know how to answer his question. Of course, your first instinct was to tell him that you needed to sleep with him so he would trust you enough with that information. Another part of you, one that was way more hidden, was telling you that you weren’t as interested in the information about the murder as you were interested in Sam. You didn’t exactly get much attention from men in real life, and you had never felt this attraction before, so it felt like the perfect opportunity. An excuse, you thought, to figure out the case and still get to spend time with him, a mysterious, unknown, unreal man.

“Are you with the police?”, he continued, when he noticed you wouldn’t reply to his question.

“What? No, I’m not with the police”, he laughed. “I know you won’t believe me, but I’m telling you the truth.”

Sam remained silent for too long, looking at every single thing that was not you, trying to gather his thoughts before continuing with the conversation.

“She wasn’t the first one”, he started. “I’ve lost several friends in a few weeks, all terrible murders. Harmony was the first one I found by myself, and that was when I knew the police were lying to us.”

“What do you mean?”

He stopped to cover your bodies, the wind coming from the window making you shiver. “They would blame it on drugs. Saying the girls died because they overdosed, or didn’t pay for what they bought and got murdered by their dealer. We believed it for a while, but it was Harmony they were talking about, and Harmony was never involved with drugs of any sort.”

“But why would they ever say that?”, you asked, making yourself more comfortable. Sam let his arm wander, leaving it to rest on your shoulders. “Do you think they were too lazy to conduct an investigation?”

“I think they know who did it, and they’re trying to protect them”, Sam explained. “To be completely honest, as time passed and I noticed who the police were questioning and considering as suspects, I got a sense of who’s possibly the person who actually did it.”

“Do you know who’s their main suspect at this point?”, you asked.

“Can you guess?”, his laughing tone told you everything you ever needed to know. “I had her blood all over me when they found her. It was easy for them to blame me, and everyone else seems to believe their theory.”

You took your time drawing small circles with your fingers around his naked torso, paying attention to what he was saying while also trying to understand the situation to its fullest.

“But what are they telling people?”, you asked. You felt like an interviewer, like someone desperately trying to take all the information they could get. Sam didn’t seem so bothered, probably happy that someone seemed to believe him for once after the murders started. “What is the motive?”

“I don’t know, I guess they think I was hitting on her or something”, Sam explained. “Harmony and I were really good friends, but I would never try and make it romantic, and everyone knows that, but people are so overwhelmed with the whole thing that they’ll believe anything they are told.”

“What about your brother? Your friends?”, you asked, and he stopped to think about it.

“I think Jacob believes me, he always does. Daniel was with me for the entire night before I found Harmony”, Sam’s voice seemed lost in time, so choked in a cry that didn’t seem to come out that you had to look at him to make sure he was doing alright. “We had proof, we tried talking to the police about it, but if they want someone to be guilty they’ll find a way to prove it to people.”

You got up from the bed, putting on your underwear as Sam watched you, confusion expressed all over his face. It was only when you laid down again, legs intertwined and chests moving in the same rhythm, that he knew you actually believed him.

“Look, Sam, I know you might not believe my story, and I don’t blame you for that”, you started, kissing his cheek and watching as he grew fonder to your touch. “But you trusted me enough to tell me about it, so I believe it is my duty to help you find the person who did it. You told me you had a theory, would you mind sharing?”

Sam told you all about it, like an open book, like someone who was so desperate for sharing what he knew that he didn’t mind that you were, as a matter of fact, a complete stranger. He mentioned a conversation he had with Harmony days before her death. She was completely helpless as she told him all about the treatment she had been receiving from the club’s owner, Mr. Jesse Moore, someone so powerful and known to high society that it would be impossible to file a complaint. Moore had been suggesting that Harmony should work for him, and both Sam and Harmony knew what he meant by that.

The clubs in town weren’t exactly known for being ethical. Illegal drugs and acts were so natural that no one ever tried to snitch. Of course, in some senses this wasn’t exactly so hurtful, as the drugs didn’t make people kill each other all the time. What Mr. Moore was suggesting was something way deeper, something that could hurt the morals and reputation of a woman in every possible sense. He knew young women were constantly desperate for money, and would accept any offer that seemed good enough.

Sam was determined to prove that Mr. Moore was so worried that the women who rejected his proposal would tell someone about it. Sure, everyone knew it was going on, but he didn’t want to be the one known for offering this job to someone. Sometimes, and both of you knew that, people would just look for excuses to be violent, to be murderous. Sam was so sure about his theory that, before he actually met you, he was going to confront Mr. Moore about it, trying to get a confession that would not only prove that he was guilty, but would also free Sam from the accusations.

“Here’s what I think we should do”, you started, taking his attention as he finished his story. “We’re going to sleep, and when you wake up I will probably not be here anymore. But I’ll try my hardest to come back tomorrow, and we are going to talk to him, how does that sound?”

Sam laughed, hugging you by your waist and making you look at him as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “It sounds like you do not care about your well-being.”

You had to laugh with him, this time. “Well, this version of me is not exactly real, so why should I be worried?”

“Words, words, words”, he mumbled, trying to make you settle as you got ready to sleep. “Good night, Y/N, I’ll see you in a bit.”

You didn’t have time to respond when you were taken from your dreams and woken up violently by rain noises hitting your old bedroom window. You looked sweaty and your hair smelled funny. The most shocking thing is that you were only in your underwear. You wondered if, in a weird state of dreaming, you got up to take off your clothes to match your dream persona. The thought was pulled from you when you realized you still had to live your life as usual, waiting patiently for the night to hit you again.

Something had changed in college today. Someone, although you didn’t exactly recognize her, talked to you during your lunch break. She had a kind smile and the type of face that you would rarely forget, features so strong and remarkable that they made her look out of this world. Something about her, then, reminded you of someone else, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Do you mind if I sit here with you?”, she asked first, and you nodded as she got comfortable beside you. “I’m Misty.”

“Oh, nice to meet you, Misty. I’m Y/N”, you replied.

A silence ever so comfortable washed over the both of you, staying there for a few minutes while you tried to think of something to say to someone so new.

“What are you listening to?”, was the best thing you could think of.

“Led Zeppelin!”, she simply replied, offering one of her earphones. You took it gladly. “My grandfather is really into them, we used to listen to it all the time when I was a kid. Funny enough, my great-uncle can make a mean Robert Plant impression.”

“I had a friend in middle school who was so into Led Zeppelin he would talk about it for hours”, you said. Misty laughed at your comment, getting her body closer to yours so you could share the earphones more comfortably. “I really like your necklace!”

You pointed at the necklace Misty was wearing, with a tiny crystal hanging from a simple string. The crystal shined as she moved closer to the sun, becoming even more green. She turned her head down to look at it, holding the stone in her hand. “Thank you! My grandpa gave it to my mother when she was my age, so now it’s mine.”

“You seem to be really close to your grandpa”, you noted, and Misty nodded. That was the first time in a while when you noticed just how much you missed your own grandparents.

“We are a very close family, yes”, she explained. “My grandpa moved in with us when my dad died. He needed someone to look after him, and me and my mom needed someone to keep us company, so it worked out just fine.”

“He’s lucky to have you guys!”, you said. Misty seemed welcoming, so sweet that you almost doubted her. Somehow, everyone else seemed rude when next to her. “I lost all of my grandparents when I was very young, so it’s nice to see that you keep him close by.”

Misty started getting up after checking her phone for the time, but not before she said goodbye to you, still so caring and sweet that it made you smile. “You’re welcome to visit us anytime if you ever need the company”, she said, as she walked away.

And you actually considered her offer.

When you first entered your building, you were instantly greeted by the landlord, a nice man who had been nothing but helpful to you after you moved in. He looked at you and smiled, noticing just how tired you were from your day of classes, and offered you one of the cookies he had in a tiny jar. He only started talking when you denied his offer.

“How have you been enjoying your room, miss?”, he asked. “Haven’t seen you around much, was wondering if you were doing alright.”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine, the room has been treating me well!”, you answered. He laughed, nodding as you continued. “I have just been a little busy with college, that’s all.”

“It’s weird. You’re the first person to stay in this room for this long”, he said. “Everyone seems to have the craziest nightmares when they’re sleeping there.”

This couldn’t be correct. To be honest, you weren’t exactly surprised by his revelation. “Oh? And why is that?”

“We never figured it out. I’m guessing it’s something about the colors of the walls or the humidity, but everyone has the same experience.”

“That’s strange. I guess I didn’t have the same luck, then!”, you lied, and you could tell just how much he could read right past you. “I’m really sorry, sir, but I need to go. I have a ton of homework to do and I would like it to be done before it’s my bedtime.”

You wondered how much he actually knew about the subject. You wondered, especially, just how many people had seem Sam and that murder situation happening multiple times, unable to stop it.

The night took long to pass, your mind wandering as you tried to do as much as you could to be productive and not think of the things you would see during the night. Sam was a constant thought, your new made up love affair making you blush at the smallest of memories. You felt like a teenage girl secretly thinking about her crush. The only differences were that he felt the same, and that he wasn’t exactly real.

When you finally started falling asleep, something felt different. Darker, more mysterious, carrying you with an uncomfortable pace. As you first opened your eyes, you saw yourself in the mirror. This was the same bathroom where Harmony had been killed, you remembered it from the tiny portion of it you could see when Sam came out of it. Your makeup was smeared, and the sting in your arm made you notice the drops of blood coming out of a wound.

Jacob found you first, taking off his shirt and pressing the material to your arm. “Where’s Sam?”, you asked. Jacob smiled at you, trying to make you calm down a little before every sensation became a little too much for you to handle.

“We lost him. He ran away, saying something about Moore”, he replied. You looked at him with pure terror. “I don’t know what he was talking about, but he seemed mad. Did he see you like this?”

“I don’t know”, you said. And you really didn’t know. Everything except for looking at yourself in the mirror was a blur, and you couldn’t help but notice how your dream skipped the part where you got hurt. “I need to find him, Jake, he’s in danger.”

Jacob reluctantly let you go, still making sure that you were pressing his shirt against the part of your arm that was still bleeding. The outside didn’t seem to realize the situation that was going on, as everyone still danced and laughed. You had no issues passing through all of those people, and you could hear his voice immediately when you went outside.

Sam looked distraught, his face contorted into someone you didn’t recognize.

“What are you doing outside? I told you to wash your wound while I looked for him”, he asked.

“What are you talking about, Sam? I just got here, I looked at myself and saw all this blood”, you replied, as confused as he was.

You now understood that, even if this was a state of dreaming, the early minutes of your sleep still counted as an alternate reality, even the ones you didn’t remember. Sam could tell how this was making you feel, as wrapped his arms around you as soon as he made sure he wouldn’t hit your arm.

“You confronted him without me”, he explained. “When I found you, he wasn’t there anymore, and you were bleeding. I’m guessing you used your arm to defend yourself from a stab, and thank God he was too lazy to try again.”

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to understand what was going on. “What are we gonna do now?”

“I am going to kill him for hurting you”, he explained, without leaving you time to protest. “And you’re going to hold on to that gun and watch your back as I look for him.”

“Sam, are you sure this is a good idea? He murders people for fun, just because he wants to”, you tried reasoning with him. Of course, you were sure it wouldn’t work. “We can go to the police, I can testify and tell them that he hurt me. I have a giant wound bleeding right now, for fuck’s sake.”

Sam didn’t look at you as he kept walking, his hand holding your waist tightly as he carried you with him. He looked at you, handing you the gun he had previously talked about. “Do you know how to use it?”

“Yes, my dad taught me when I was younger”, you explained. “It was the weirdest thing for so many years, never thought I would actually have to use that knowledge.”

He explained to you that you were walking to Mr. Moore’s house, not too far away. You were quiet as you walked, fear expressed clearly on his face. In a certain way, Sam was just a good kid trying to help people the way he knew how to help. He had seen injustice in the way these women had been murdered, had been considered a prime suspect for no reason and now had to watch as you got hurt trying to protect him.

When you arrived, the air was cold and it was too dark to see. You couldn’t gather your thoughts as you recognized the fact that you were about to kill a person so wicked that they would kill for no reason, for a reputation they needed to preserve in any way possible. Sam had his arm around you, desperately trying to remain in contact with your skin as if it was the last time he would ever get to touch you. You nodded at him when he entered the house alone, the door opened as if Mr. Moore was expecting him. You silently promised him that you would take care.

The first five minutes of Sam being inside the house were desperately quiet. So quiet that you could hear everything going on around you, except for his voice. Then, as a surprise, you heard something breaking inside of the house. As an instinct, you opened the door, even if you knew you weren’t supposed to. You heard Sam’s voice first, a desperate call to your name. When you followed his voice, you made sure that Mr. Moore couldn’t see you.

You could see Sam, and you knew he could see you as well. Mr. Moore crushed Sam’s body with his own, taking advantage from the fact that Sam had such a lean figure. His hands covered Sam’s throat as his face got to a deep purple tone, desperately longing for fresh air. You could see Sam’s gun on the ground, a sight of conflict and fighting that made your lips shiver in despair.

You didn’t quite understand violence. You never did, especially in cases like this when the author of the violence had no actual reason to do it. He was just a sad, lonely man who needed to hurt women so he could feel good about himself. Violence didn’t make sense. It was a desperate response to something within ourselves that we couldn’t quite control, but that we knew all too well.

Violence didn’t make sense. So, when your shaking hands pulled the trigger and shot the unknown man in the head, you didn’t quite understand it. You never did. He fell like an inanimate creature, so devoid of soul and life that it took you a few minutes to understand exactly what you had done.

Sam didn’t seem so much better, his face still showing the lack of air he had just been through. You helped him get up, watching as he catched his breath again. As soon as he returned to some kind of normal state, you helped him get out of the house. You would worry about the guns and the dead body laying in the living room later, right now, it needed to be all about him.

“You do know that I need to go, right?”, you asked, making Sam laugh for the first time ever since you found him that evening. “I shouldn’t have done this, Sam, this is going to bring you even more trouble and I’m so irrespo-”

Sam had this way of making you shut up. First, it was his eyes and how he looked at you, second, it was the way he spoke to you with no shame or reservation to his voice. Now, it was the way he kissed you, so slowly and passionately that it made you forget your acts. His mouth felt real, his body felt real, the affection you both had developed for each other felt so real that it was suffocating you.

“I do know that you have to leave me”, he answered, still giving you small, short kisses. “And I promise I’m gonna deal with it, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Responsibility hit you like a train. It took you too long to realize that you didn’t exactly exist in that reality. That it was just a silly dream, filled with heavy plots and hot characters, just like any other horror movie. Sam wouldn’t be blamed for anything, and neither would you, because none of it was real.

Still, when you pressed your lips against his again, you could feel him entirely. His beating heart against your chest, his wandering hands exploring you with a passion of someone who barely survived and wasn’t sure about tomorrow, his mouth and yours, connected as unexpected lovers, separated by destiny and by years.

You looked at your arm, still bloody, now matching Sam’s body. He kissed your hand before letting you go, and you turned to look back at him when you woke up.

You knew you would never get to see him again. You would move out of that room, forget the funny memories created by your own head, forget murder and violence, forget the situation you had created to yourself. But you would never, ever forget him.

- - -

Misty opened the door to her house, which looked just as welcoming as her. The walls were covered in family pictures and the floor had every possible flower and plant you had ever seen. This felt like the house of someone who knew how to enjoy life as an experience, not as a phase. Her mother joined you after hearing the noise, and you were weirded out by how much they looked like each other.

“Oh, darling, welcome!”, she said, her voice a little higher than you expected. “Misty told me all about you, we’re so happy to have you.”

“I am so sorry I showed up empty handed, we just left college and I didn’t have any time to make something”, you explained. “But I’ll gladly help with dinner, if you need me.”

“You don’t have to worry about that”, Misty’s mother calmed you, setting her hand on your back as she made Misty join you. “Why don’t you go to the living room as I get everything set? Misty, honey, grandpa told me he needs help with one of his vinyls, something about a scratch.”

When you entered the living room, an old man was sitting on the couch, trying to figure out how to fix an old vinyl. You noticed just how many vinyls they had, an interesting collection clearly started by the grandpa. He turned to look at you, but he didn’t seem to react as he put on his glasses.

Something warned you about a memory hidden deep inside of you. What was so interesting is that this was a fresh memory, so fresh that you didn’t even have to force yourself to recognize the person in front of you. It was the eyes, deep and brown with a mistique seen rarely. Those eyes seemed to know who you were, too, as they analyzed your face so profoundly that it took you both some time to finally start acting like normal human beings again.

“Hey, grandpa! Mom said you needed some help, why don’t you give me the vinyl so I can check it out?”, Misty started, his eyes still glued to you. “Oh, this is my friend from college, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you”, he said. “Y/N.”

You nodded as Misty started trying to fix his vinyl, talking to her grandfather and leaving you comfortable to do whatever you wanted to do as you waited for dinner. His eyes, still focused on you, seemed like a reminder of a past that you didn’t quite understand, but you certainly knew in a sense.

Misty told you she would be helping her mother in the kitchen, and nicely asked you to pay some attention to her grandfather as she was away, unaware of the situation. As soon as she left, his face dropped to a serious expression.

“He told me about what you said to him when you met”, he started. “I didn’t believe him. None of us did, in fact. It sounded like an excuse to let him go, to disappear without having to deal with his emotions. But here you are.”

“I would have never left if it wasn’t for a good reason”, you explained. “We didn’t belong to the same reality. I wasn’t even sure if you were real, but here you are.”

The silence that dropped between the two of you seemed like one of remembrance and understanding. He had spent the entirety of his life thinking his sibling had made up a story about some weird sort of time traveling, and his sibling spent the entirety of his life believing you would come back.

“It’s nice to see you, Jacob”, you simply said, making him laugh. “Although I did see you yesterday.”

“I guess it took me longer to see you”, it was now your time to giggle. “He would have loved to meet you again. We did have to move out for a few years because of you, but that’s only a matter of detail.”

“Oh, yeah! How is he doing?”, you asked. Jacob looked at you, and you instantly knew what he meant.

“He died two years ago. Natural causes, happily”, he started explaining. “You don’t have to worry about it, he eventually got over you. It isn’t exactly easy to forget someone who quite literally killed for you.”

“God, I wish he could know I was telling the truth.”

Jacob nodded. “I’m sure he did. Or he would have stopped mentioning it. I guess he could feel your presence.”

Misty came back before you could continue your conversation. Having a meal with them felt weirder than you thought it would, but you didn’t mind. If Jacob was real, it meant Sam was too, and that was all you ever needed to know.

That night, before you left, Jacob hugged you tight, without caring about what his family would think. He opened your hands and left a tiny picture of Sam drop in them. You smiled as you looked at the picture, Sam, his long hair and kind smile looking at the picture fondly. This was the Sam you knew.

Hope never left you that someday, as the world moved forward and your life came and went away, the two of you would be born in the same decade. So close, yet far away enough that the discovery of your affection would feel like a nice surprise. There was no stopping time, and there was no stopping this connection you had formed with him.

taglist: @doodle417 @a-bouquet-of-lilies

#Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fic #gvf fanfiction #sam kiszka

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Can I be added to your taglist? I live your writing!

Absolutely! So excited for you to see what I’m writing next! <3

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Crying. Sobbing. So sad it's over💔 this was a wonderful story, thank you for your writing

So glad you liked it! It was so much fun writing about it for so much time! Thank you so much for all of your nice comments, I'll see you in my next project :) (it's about Sammy).

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Heart’s Desire - Masterpost (Josh Kiszka x Reader).

Hi, friends! Just wanted to make a specific post with all of the links for the chapters. Thank you for reading!

Synopsis: A kind person is all you need. When Josh Kiszka enters your life without any warning, he is the guardian you were eagerly waiting for.

Warnings: Religious imagery, grief, drug use, mentions of past abusive relationships, panic attacks, depressive thoughts, mentions of sexual acts.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Epilogue.

#Greta Van Fleet #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fanfiction #greta van fleet masterpost #gvf masterpost

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Heart’s Desire - Josh Kiszka x Reader (angst, fluff): Epilogue.

Epilogue.

Couple: Josh Kiszka/Original female character

Words: 2550

Synopsis: A kind person is all you need. When Josh Kiszka enters your life without any warning, he is the guardian you were eagerly waiting for.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: None!

Author’s note: I wrote a lot of fanfiction in my life. For many years, writing about Johnlock or Harry Styles was common to me, but I had never finished a multi chapter fic before this one! Thank you so much for reading, I would very much appreciate to know your thoughts on this story, as it was built with so much love (and research about whether angels could have intercourse or not). I’ll see you in my next project! As always, requests are open for full length stories or one shots :)

Masterpost

The moment you knew, he looked as beautiful as ever, but he had this different aura surrounding him. The moment you knew, Josh seemed like a normal human being, like someone who wasn’t this suffocatingly warm and shiny. In fact, he almost didn’t have that much shine to him at all. He was your Josh, a man smiling so bright at you that you could ask him to marry you right there. And he was smiling because he also knew, way before you did.

He was taking you out for the third time that week, trying to get as much attention from you as he possibly could, and the world outside looked like an inviting place to be with the one you most certainly loved. Now, everyone meaningful in your life knew who he was, and they also knew just how important he was for you, saving you time and time again from becoming the worst version of yourself. You knew, deep inside, that all of your friends were thankful that he was doing the hard work for them and never asking for anything in return, except for your constant company - and you didn’t mind that one bit.

“I can’t believe you’ve been here with me for months and this is the first time that we go to the movies together”, you said, walking with your hands intertwined with his and dancing to the sound of your shoes. “Do you even know what they’re playing there or is it going to be a surprise for the both of us?”

“I have absolutely no idea what they’re playing there”, he answered, looking at you and almost missing a step, his body trembling a little as you laughed. “I was hoping we could just look at the posters and go with the prettiest one.”

The city looked alive that evening. People on the streets were lively and happy as you walked, and you could swear you had never noticed just how many bars and restaurants were near your building. Even then, Josh got everyone’s attention to himself, so beautiful and loud that, whenever you stopped to look at something in a store or wait for the cars to pass by, you would notice conversations stopping and eyes going straight for him. You wondered if he noticed just how incredibly powerful he was just by being himself, but you knew the answer was no.

You ended up watching a french movie, and, if someone tried to ask you about the plot, you would have to silently tell them that you remembered nothing of it. Instead of watching the movie, too slow and too fancy for you to understand, you watched him, and that’s the moment you knew.

Josh looked immersed in the movie, and his eyes would follow every ounce of movement the screen was showing him. His face was shining with admiration as he analyzed everything, trying to gather as much information as he possibly could, making it his goal to create a little space inside of him that would remember that movie forever. You wondered how much of the world he had seen before he even met you, and how much information he had stored that could change your views on anything you ever said. But, deep inside of you, you knew he wanted to keep the information to himself, forcing you to live in the moment and forget the fact that he was the divinest of creatures, one that was made for you, and that could never change you, even if he wanted to.

It was then that you also understood that he didn’t want to remember the movie. He was as bored as you were. He wanted to remember watching it with you, because he also knew that you were ready, and that he didn’t have long before he had to go and watch from afar as you grew apart from him.

You also knew that he needed you to say it. He needed you to wake up one day and tell him that you were ready to let him go, that you learned from him and now needed to learn from yourself. Even if you were ready for it, it didn’t feel less painful as you memorized every detail, a human form of a dream that seemed to never end, a man made for you to love, for you to cherish and adore. Not even the highest scream in the movie screen could take you away from him, and he looked peaceful as ever with the idea of you letting him go.

“I can’t believe you didn’t even watch the movie”, he said, a funny sound to his voice meaning that he also didn’t watch it. “The cinematography was incomparable, I think you might regret not paying attention in a few years when this becomes a cult classic.”

His face was so close to yours that you had to fight the urge to touch him at every second of your day. He walked beside you, not looking at where he was going, his hand holding yours so tight that you felt like you might explode, a good kind of pain that could only come from the suffocating feeling of wanting to be with each other. For a moment, every touch felt like it was not enough to satiate your need for being with Josh, and you wished you could just enter his body so you two could be as one forever.

“You’re a dirty liar, Josh, I could tell you were just watching the pretty colors”, you said, and he laughed a little too loud.

“I am physically incapable of ever lying to you, dearest”, a fake british accent came out of his mouth as he said it, and he stopped walking to put his hand on his chest. “And that is why I am telling you that I was definitely only watching the pretty colors.”

The rest of the walk home was one of the worst experiences of your life, the silence making you notice every step, every noise that was coming from across the street, every car trying to get somewhere. It was quiet because he knew you knew, and because you both didn’t want it to happen the way it would.

When you got home, you needed to test yourself to see just how sure you were of what you were about to do. Taking your phone, you finally looked through the pictures, selecting one of the specific albums you had made a few years ago. Pictures of her popped up immediately, and you had to look away for a second to contain your tears. You knew Josh was right behind you, but he didn’t say a thing, a quiet ghost of a man that would let you have your moment when you most needed it. You took your time getting ready to open one of the pictures, opening a random one, physically incapable to choose. When you finally looked at it and saw the face of your mother staring back at you, you felt something that you didn’t expect.

You felt nothing. Nothing more than nostalgia and love for the person she once was, the one that would walk beside you and protect you every time you would fall in the arms of the wrong person. You waited and waited for the normal panic attack to come as you looked at her, the picture of her smiling and holding you feeling like a soft breeze brushing your skin and making you feel welcome in your own body. You noticed just how much you were starting to look like her, and how your own face served as a memory of who she was and what she represented. You desperately wanted to make her proud, and making her proud meant that you needed to let her go.

“Josh?”, you asked, and you could immediately feel his breathing in your neck, so close that you could just reach and touch him. “I think I’m ready.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, taking you in his arms from behind and making you sit on his lap on the bed. His body felt warmer now that your goodbye was closer than ever, and you could sit and watch as his body reacted to yours for decades. Josh sat there with you for what felt like an eternity, holding you as you looked at the other pictures.

“Do you have any idea just how proud I am of you?”, he asked, holding you tighter, like he could never let you go. “You look just like her.”

You smiled as he pointed to one of your pictures, the one where a younger version of your mother held you as a baby. You could clearly see the resemblance, the lost eyes filled with hope of what was to come.

“Can I have one final request before you go?”, he nodded, and you got out of his lap to stare at him, side by side. “I need you to stop being Josh for a second. I want to see the angel inside of you before you leave.”

Josh could read your mind like a book, so he knew exactly what you meant even if you weren’t so sure. He just smiled, and hugged you tightly once again. You couldn’t help but kiss him, a wet, hopeful kiss that served as a way of telling him that he was the one you would love for the rest of your life, even if you ended up living your life with someone else. Josh, of course, knew what you were feeling, and returned your kiss with a passion that only he could reproduce, holding your waist so tight that you thought your ribs would break.

He took his time getting ready, which also meant he wanted you to get ready with him. You closed your eyes for a second, letting him get comfortable with his form. When you opened your eyes again, you felt him staring at you, his eyes completely white and empty, and still so filled with love that you couldn’t imagine exactly how he felt right now. From him, came a warmth that you had gotten used to by now, making you feel so warm and protected that there wasn’t a possible way of making you leave his side. He didn’t need to use his voice, because you knew exactly what he wanted you to know.

You knew some things. You knew that he loved you, as it was his essence and he was clearly incapable of doing anything else. Even then, you knew he loved you like a creature and like a man, and this departure was as painful for him as it was for you. As his body shined with the same yellow and orange tones from when you first saw him, you touched his face, not worried if his touch made your skin burn with heat. He was so incredibly beautiful that it didn’t matter.

You also knew that, no matter what you did or where you were, he would follow you, guiding you as you lived your life with only the memory of who you once loved. He would not follow you as a human, and you would possibly never see him again, but his presence would still be noted in the little things, like the sweet smell of candy or the sun still shining even when everything seemed lost in time.

Josh sat with you for a moment, the creature inside of him taking good care of you as you relaxed under his touch. You could feel everything, from the way his touch didn’t feel human anymore, but like a feather lightly brushing against you, to the breath he let out as he kissed you once more. The feeling of his lips against yours were not entirely physical, as your mind reacted to it way before it happened, sending you waves of love and care that you could only feel with him.

When he finally left you, his shiny body disappearing as if it was only a vision of who he was, you felt your entire body becoming more and more tired. You knew this was his way of making you spend the rest of your night remembering him inside your dreams, keeping you from staying up and mourning his goodbye. As you slept, you could still feel him as he held you, caressing your hair with soft, warm fingers.

And you felt like yourself.

- - -

There was a knock at the door as you woke up. You looked at the familiar face, smiling at him as he entered the room. His curls were wet, and you wondered when he left to take his much needed shower after all those hours of waiting. As you looked at him crossing the room, you felt a sense of love that was so ordinary that you could feel proud of yourself.

“How’s my baby going?”, he asked, sitting beside you.

“Oh, she’s pretty good, actually! They gave her a bath while I was sleeping”, you answered, listening to him laugh as you said it. “What?”

“I meant you. I know how she’s doing, I was the one to help with her shower.”

You looked at the baby resting on the crib beside your bed, and she looked like the spitting image of your husband. There was so much pride inside yourself that you couldn’t stop crying since the minute she came out of you and you got to meet her pretty face. You had never imagined that this was supposed to be your biggest dream - to raise a family and to see as they grew with you. A fear that you could not contain still told you that he was going to leave you alone when it became too much, too busy and carefree to help you with a child that demanded attention and love.

But as you paid close attention to him, you could see the look of a father. Of someone who couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life taking care of his daughter, so small and fragile, so dependent on him.

“Do we have a name yet?”, he asked. You nodded quickly, looking at her again and noticing as she woke up.

Your husband helped you hold her in your tired arms, and she felt like a dream come true.

“What do you think of Alya?”, you could sense his smile growing bigger as you told him the name. “It kind of sounds like your name, Aaron.”

“I like it, it’s different”, your baby let out a soft sob as you settled her, resting on your stomach. “Do you know what it means?”

“Depends on who you’re asking, really”, you explained. “It could mean sky, to ascend, beautiful. To me, it means heavenly.”

You watched as Aaron looked at his daughter, a confused expression that made you watch what he was looking for. Alya’s cheek was shaking when you noticed a butterfly was sitting on her face, kindly tickling her skin. You couldn’t help but laugh. Aaron tried to take the butterfly off her, but you took his hand.

“Leave it”, you asked. “It’s just trying to meet her.”

And you knew he had never left.

And I wept both night and day,

And he wiped my tears away;

And I wept both day and night,

And hid from him my heart’s delight.

(The Angel by William Blake)

@a-bouquet-of-lilies

#greta van fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fanfiction #gvf fluff #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet angst

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Oohh wait so- once the reader gets better Josh is going to leave? :,(

Hi, good question!

Guardian angels never exactly leave the ones they’re protecting, since their entire function is to take care of them. I like to think that the angel has been taking care of the reader for her past lives too!

What happens is that Josh is just the human form of an angel, a spirit of love that can take physical form when needed. The different physical forms can be seen during the chapters: a soft breeze, feathers, rainbows, good smells in the air. The human form is needed when the reader can’t actually take care of herself in a way that would keep her alive. The human form allows them to fall in love and live like a couple, but his main goal is still to make sure that she keeps herself alive.

In that sense, when she gets better and when SHE’S ready, the human form (Josh) is not needed anymore, but that doesn’t mean he leaves forever. He can still appear and will forever, to the rest of her days, be watching over her. The human form can’t stay there because that would be a selfish act, and angels are incapable of being selfish (and if they go against their nature and are selfish, they become fallen angels). Staying forever means the reader will never be able to live a human love, raise a family (angels are canonically able to get women pregnant, but it’s rarely romantic) and get better. Her guardian angel is there for her, doesn’t matter what happens, and I do believe that she understands why he has to leave eventually.

Thank you for reading and for your question! <3

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Heart’s Desire - Josh Kiszka x Reader (angst, fluff): Part 5.

Part 5. Make You Mine

Couple: Josh Kiszka/Original Female Character

Words: 4713

Synopsis: A kind person is all you need. When Josh Kiszka enters your life without any warning, he is the guardian you were eagerly waiting for.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: None besides mentions of sex!

Author’s note: This is our last chapter before the epilogue! I had so much fun writing this fic, and I can’t wait for all of you to see how it ends. My next fic is going to be about Sammy, and I am so excited to start writing it! As always, my requests are open for full lenght fics or one shots about any of the boys :) I would love to write about your ideas!

Masterpost.

It was the first time in a few weeks that Angela called you. You knew her waiting had everything to do with the fact that she wanted you to get better on your own instead of being pushed into instant happiness. You appreciated the way she would take care of you, even if her care meant she had to be harsh and leave you alone sometimes. You noticed how much you missed her as soon as her name popped on the screen, making you jump with excitement with the idea of sharing actual good news with her for once: this was the first time in a long time that you could tell her you felt like yourself for more than a day.

Obviously, you couldn’t tell her the reason. You couldn’t simply answer the phone call telling her that your guardian angel had taken the human form of a beautiful man who was now living with you and helping you overcome grief and addiction with angel powers or something. But you could tell her that you were seeing a man, and you knew she would be scared for you, try to talk you out of a new relationship, tell you how harmful it could be for your recovery to set your expectations on someone who could leave at any point.

The thing was: Josh could never leave, he was glued to you, he existed for you. He would never leave your side if you didn’t ask him to. His human form would forever be right beside you, guiding you through life and loving you oh, so well.

“Angela, hi!”, you said, and you could swear you heard her let out a tiny gasp. You weren’t sure if it was because your voice sounded happy or if you answered the phone for a change. She took a few seconds before replying. Josh was washing the dishes and stopped to watch you, curly hair on a tiny ponytail and his skin glowing with the sweat of a warm day.

“Hi, I didn’t expect you to answer”, she said, and you let out a breathy laugh. “You sound like you’re doing well.”

Josh was paying more attention now, pointing at your phone. You understood that he wanted to listen to the conversation, to see how Angela would react to your newly found joy in talking to her. You knew that was his way of being polite, because he could very clearly listen to everything, your mind connected to him in a way that you wouldn’t understand even if you tried.

“I am doing well, yes!”, it was her time to laugh, and you knew this wasn’t a laugh that came out as a way of mocking you, but one that showed you just how happy she was. “It’s very nice to talk to you, Angie.”

Even on the phone, you could tell she smiled at the nickname. You wondered if everyone in your life would get this reaction now, like parents watching as their children stopped crawling and began walking, tiny, messy steps into freedom.

“Just wanted to call and check up on you”, Angela explained, and Josh sat on the couch to listen to what she was saying. He seemed so entertained with small things in life that you couldn’t help but sit down beside him and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “It’s been a while, I missed you. Do you need anything? Food? Someone to help you do chores? I’m free.”

“Oh, no! Actually, everything is just fine!”, you said, Josh drawing little patterns on your thigh as you spoke. “But I would love to see you, what do you think?”

You looked to your side, Josh excited as a kid to go out, his smile almost bigger than his cheeks. You noticed how much you smiled around him, always pointing out things about him that made you feel like a teenager in love.

“That would be lovely, yeah. Maybe you could come over, we can have dinner and talk about everything”, she said, almost like a request rather than a simple invite. “Do you need a ride? I can pick you up and we can decide on what to eat.”

You thought about it. You considered maybe leaving Josh alone for a few hours so Angela wouldn’t figure out the reason why you were so happy. As good as you were feeling, you were not sure if you could deal with her judgment, even if it came from a place of love and care.

“No, I don’t need a ride. But I would love to come over!”, you answered, and you could feel as Josh looked at you with expectation. “Is it okay if I bring my boyfriend?”

Angela instantly went silent. You thought she had hung up the phone, but you could still hear her breathing as she thought of the correct thing to say. You both stared at the phone and at each other while you waited, and you regretted asking, considering how easily Angela would get mad at you.

“Lucas can’t come”, she said. Her voice was so serious you actually thought she was mad at you, not him. “Is he there with you right now? Let me talk to him, I want to tell him just how much I hate him.”

Josh looked at you, and you knew he could see how much hearing his name affected you. Sometimes, you forgot just how much he actually knew about you. He saw everything, when Lucas hurt you and didn’t let you grow as a person, when he forced you to do things that you didn’t want to do, when he would force himself into you and make you regret actually being alive. There was this little voice inside of you that resented Josh for watching and never doing anything about it, letting these things happen to you as if you deserved them, as if it was always your destiny to suffer in his hands as he manipulated you into becoming someone unrecognizable to other people around you. You tried forgetting the feeling, quickly remembering that Angela was waiting for your reply.

“What? No, Angela, I mean my boyfriend Josh”, you cleared out. “You haven’t met him, that’s why I wanted him to come with me.”

“Oh? Yeah, I guess he could come”, she said, and you knew just how confused she was. It wasn’t exactly your fault that she didn’t know about him, because no one knew about Josh. He was your well kept secret, not because you didn’t want people to know but because he was so good that you simply never thought about sharing him.

Angela didn’t say anything else, clearly trying to gather her thoughts and understand the fact that you finally had someone new. You knew, of course, that she would try to get you alone and talk about it, but you also knew you couldn’t hide anything from Josh, even if he was in the other room.

You set your phone on the coffee table and let yourself fall in Josh’s arms. He was laying down now, face pressed to the side of a pillow he would bring everywhere so he could be more comfortable. He hugged you back, making sure he took your hair off your face as you let your body relax against his. Josh lifted your face by the chin, caressing your skin with his warm fingers and he made you look at him. You couldn’t help it, and you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his lips, trying to be as close as you possibly could to him.

“I never said anything because I needed you to learn”, he simply said, and you looked at him, trying to understand what he meant. Sensing your obvious confusion, he continued, pressing his hands to your back as he made you lay on top of him. “About Lucas. I can’t control what you do or don’t do about your own life. I can give you advice, and I can make you understand that you’re in a bad situation, but I can’t force you to come out of it.”

“I wouldn’t mind it if you took me out of it”, you said. Josh laughed, making your body move to the rhythm of his chest rising with the vibration.

“I can’t. I would, if I could”, he explained, and you nodded. “If I never let you understand that you needed to get better, that you needed to leave him and never look back, you would never know what it feels like to have control over your life. You would just be a machine controlled by me, blindly following my commands as you get older and never wiser.”

You fluffed his hair a little, pressing another kiss to his lips. “And what happens when I learn?”

He smiled, and you knew he knew you had the answer before he even said anything. This sort of connection, this way of understanding each other was making your communication so much easier than you would expect. Maybe this is why it worked so well between the two of you. It wasn’t only Josh who could read you like a book and know exactly what you were thinking, but you felt like you were inside his head constantly, guessing what he would say next.

“Then, I have to leave”, he explained. You pressed your body harder against his, impossibly close, too warm to handle, a puddle of sweat and love that no one else could ever understand except for the two of you. “Well, not really. I’ll always be here in spirit, quite literally, but I can’t assume this human form forever.”

“We could just hide you inside the house forever and no one would know that you never aged, if that’s the issue”, you tried to argue, and he giggled at your comment. “You know, like Dorian Gray. I’m sure there’s a cute painting of you slowly getting older as we speak.”

“Your mind amazes me, honey”, he said, pressing his lips to your head, staying there for a second, smelling your hair. “You smell like strawberries.”

“Is that a good thing?” Josh laughed. “I can change my shampoo if that’s bothering you.”

“Of course it’s a good thing, Y/N, I love strawberries!”, he clarified, and you smiled, getting up from the couch trying to decide on what to wear. “They’re soft and tasty. Kind of like you, actually.”

“God, are angels supposed to be this dirty all the time?”, you asked. He got up too, hugging you from behind.

“You tell me”, Josh helped you take off your shirt, kissing your shoulder as you were free from it. “Now let’s find you something real cute to wear, okay?”

Having Josh around when you needed to get ready for something was an interesting experience. He had mentioned numerous times about how his whole spirit was filled with love and affection, and that also meant that he was terrible at making decisions. Somehow, even the most hideous outfit you owned looked beautiful in his eyes, and he always found a way to compliment you. A few days before, you found a dress that you really liked, and it was ripped from a night out, completely unwearable. Josh, in his infinite kindness, looked at you and said that, even with everything wrong, that color looked good on you.

“What do you think of this one? I think it’s a little tight”, you asked, wearing one of your favorite pants. Josh stared at you, looking at the piece of clothing before smiling. “Do not tell me it looks ‘great like the other ones’ or I’ll leave you here to eat my boring leftovers, and Angela is an amazing cook.”

“How do you feel wearing those?”, he asked, fixing the shirt that you had chosen for him to wear.

“I feel like a hot business woman who’s out for dinner.”

“So that’s the right thing to wear, mama”, Josh said, and you smiled at the new nickname. “You look gorgeous.”

You left early, Josh carrying a bottle of wine that you still had in your apartment while you held your keys. He looked dreamy, and it wasn’t ironic when you thought to yourself that he looked divine. The shine coming from his skin was so blinding that you almost brought your sunglasses with you, and the fact that no one else could see it but you made you realize just how incredibly lucky you were, having someone like that by your side. Josh knew what you were thinking, and took his time kissing you as you stood in front of your building, carefully structuring a scene straight from a romantic movie. His hands burned on your face and you could feel people in front of you watching as he softly, passionately pressed his lips to yours.

You knew you weren’t exactly lucky, though, and that realization kept you up all night when you looked to your side and saw the most heavenly creature sleeping with a peace that could only be imitated by a child. You felt the burden of having to remember that he felt what you felt your entire life, all the pain from never having enough time with your siblings, having no memory of your dad, spending your late teenage years letting men with no character or responsability have their way with you. Josh had to deal with it all, your minds and hearts so attached that you thought about all the times that he tried to directly help you but couldn’t, trying to wait for your lowest point to appear and, finally, falling for you just how you were falling for him. He was free from all the pain and suffering, and both of you felt nothing but love for each other.

“Did you also cry when I cried?”, you asked on your way over to Angela’s, and he stopped to think about your question.

“No, not when I wasn’t Josh”, he explained, walking a little slower so you could enjoy your conversation. “I could feel everything that you felt, and my existence was agonizing when yours was too, but I was just a spirit. I am just a spirit. So I needed to keep my hopes up that it would get better eventually, because my entire being was dedicated to taking care of you the best I could from afar.”

The streets were empty, and you were afraid to ask if this was an illusion Josh created inside your head to make it seem more intimate. He always thought of everything, and he would try to hold himself from manipulating your reality as much as he could, but sometimes you could tell that he would do the impossible to make your experience with him a little more romantic.

He cleared his throat before continuing with what he was saying. “I remember listening to you as you begged for someone to understand you and why you couldn’t tell your own mother about the things men would do to you. I just wanted to hold you and tell you that someday it would all work out. But I couldn’t, and I’m terribly sorry about it.”

“Well, I still have to live with that”, you explained, and he held your hand a little stronger as he heard your voice getting quieter. “And it’s not your fault. I didn’t know I had a literal angel watching over me. If I did, I would have been a little more hopeful.”

“You’re hopeful now, aren’t you?”, you nodded. “At the end of the day that’s all that matters to me.”

When Angela opened the door she looked just like your mother whenever you would bring boys over to meet her. The worried expression, her eyebrows falling, her mouth forming a frown that she could never hide. Josh, on the other hand, didn’t seem nervous at all. He smiled at her, holding her in an embrace, not noticing how uncomfortable she looked with the sign of unexpected affection.

“Hey!”, you first said, hugging her as well. You could tell she was mostly confused by you, the way you sounded way happier than the last time she saw her, your voice higher and more enthusiastic. “I’m sorry we took a little longer than expected, we decided to walk here. It was such a beautiful day, we couldn’t ignore it.”

Angela didn’t say anything at first, letting you in and waiting for you to get comfortable in the living room as she got the three of you tall glasses of water. Josh noticed the slightest sign of sweat forming on your forehead from the walk, and cleaned it with his thumb before kissing your cheek. Your friend looked like she had never seen a couple before, but it made sense in your head. She was so used to inviting you and your boyfriends over just to watch as you screamed at each other for the dumbest reasons possible. She, and everyone else in your life, didn’t expect you to finally realize that love wasn’t supposed to look like two enemies trying to fight for dominance. Your love was finally free and caring, and it would take her some time to get used to the idea.

“Your place is absolutely lovely, Angela”, Josh started, like he was her best friend, so familiar with her that everything other than pure happiness and kindness would feel like misbehavior. “I love what you did with that wall, did that color take too long to look that vibrant?”

“What?”, she asked, finally waking up from her alternative reality and looking at him. You could see as her eyes watched him, analyzing every detail, from his hair to his shoes. “Oh, yes. Dark green can be kind of challenging because if you cover one spot a little too much it looks darker than the rest of the wall. The secret is being calm and letting every layer dry for long enough so you have an idea of what you’re working with.”

Josh looked satisfied with her answer, pointing at the paintings displayed on the walls and turning to you. “See, sweetheart? I think we should do that to the bedroom, it needs color. What do you think?”

“Oh, I think it’s love-”, Angela interrupted you.

“He’s living with you?”, her voice was more serious, like she was disciplining you.

“Well, no. Josh has his own place!”, you replied, and Josh put his hand on your knee to help you relax. “He’s just… around… a lot.”

“Now, tell me, Josh”, Angela started, the interrogation you were expecting would happen that day finally starting. “How did you two meet?”

You were having dinner after about an hour and a half of trying to talk without making things feel uncomfortable. Angela felt like she was a stranger to her own home, sitting on the edge of her couch as she carefully watched your every move. Every time Josh would touch you or talk to you she would be vigilant, like she needed to make sure that he wouldn’t ruin you with his hands and sweet words at any given moment. You appreciated the concern, of course, but it still felt weird to have someone taking care of you like you would never find someone who had good intentions.

You knew that, in her mind, every man that ever came near you had destruction in his mind. Destruction of your weak mind, your body and your soul. She didn’t know that, beside you, you had the person that would most likely save you time and time again. Someone with inhumanly good purpose, a spirit of love, built to love you and take care of you even when you couldn’t even see him. A creature so soft that there was always a need to show him just how much you could feel his kindness filling your body completely, transforming self harmful thoughts into hope.

“Such a good story! I gave her my coffee and we had a lovely chat at the café”, he explained. Angela hadn’t touched her food at all. Josh noticed your concern. “This meal is amazing, Angela, I’m so happy that you allowed me to join you this evening.”

“Thank you, I’m glad that you’re enjoying it”, her smile was fake as the ones she would give the people she doubted. And she doubted most people. “How do you like it, Y/N? Have you been eating well lately?”

You smiled at the mention of food, incredibly proud of yourself for keeping a good relationship with it for the last couple of weeks, making sure that your body was as well nourished as your mind was. Josh looked proud too, holding your hand where Angela couldn’t see and helping you as you finally spoke about it.

“I had a few rough months, you know that. But, lately, I have been feeling so good that I can’t help but enjoy food”, you started. “Josh cooks for me all the time, too. You should try his pasta, it’s absolutely divine.”

“And have you been cooking for yourself or is he doing all the work?”, she asked. You could feel your breathing stop for a moment, the judgment in her voice making you doubt your own progress.

“We cook together, most of the time”, Josh replied when he sensed that you couldn’t form words at that moment. “And believe me, Angela, this girl is the best cook in town. I can’t help it but be proud of her. Aren’t you so proud of her?”

Angela looked at her lap, trying to ignore his eyes. You knew no one could possibly lie to Josh, they would just be compelled to tell him everything they needed to say with just one look at his bright brown eyes. He looked at you when he was sure she wouldn’t reply, and kissed both of your cheeks before getting up from the table and starting to gather all the dishes. Angela had no reaction, her voice escaping her. She couldn’t look at you, or get up from the table, and she had no initiative to help with the dishes as Josh washed them, making sure to look at you every once in a while.

“Go to the living room for a second. I need to have a talk with her”, he said, only inside your mind. You got up without making much noise, and closed the door behind you so Josh could say what was on his mind without getting insecure that you might be hearing him.

It felt like hours, but they were inside the dining room for twenty minutes. You kept trying to get distracted with something else, braiding your hair and looking at the decorations to think of something to do with your own house. You could hear Josh’s soft voice turning into a scolding sound, but you couldn’t possibly understand what he was saying.

“Can I speak with you for a second?”, Angela said when they both left. You nodded, and she directed you to her room.

Her bedroom looked like something straight out of an old movie, books all over her white sheets and an old window making your body shake with the breeze. You had come to like how it felt, as it reminded you of exactly how loved you were.

“I believe I’ve been unfair this entire time”, she started, pointing at the place beside her in bed. You sat down, and she took your hand in hers. “And I apologize for how harsh I was. I know you’ve been through a lot, and I couldn’t understand just how my behavior was affecting you.”

“What do you mean?”, you genuinely asked.

“I have been censuring you, cleaning after you, screaming at you and doubting the love of others because I felt like they were there to hurt you”, Angela explained. “Y/N, I have been treating you like a mother would. And now I see just how hurtful this could be, considering I could never compare to her.”

You stared at her for a second, unsure of what to say, so she continued without expecting a reply.

“I saw your relationship with men over the years, and I couldn’t help but think that this one would be the same, but somehow worse”, she was not looking at you now, clearly embarrassed. “You were grieving, and someone could just enter your life to manipulate you. He just felt like someone who was controlling your entire life, forcing you to get better somehow.”

“You know, Angie”, you finally said. “I think that what people don’t understand sometimes is that people who need help can count on other people to get better. I couldn’t do this alone, and he took care of me. He did force me to get better, but that’s just because if he didn’t I wouldn’t have made the effort.”

Angela seemed to understand, and you wondered what Josh had said that made her believe him. And, most importantly, believe in you.

“He seems like a good kid”, she said, and you smiled at the thought of him. “He told me everything. About the drugs, the way he helped you clean your house and stop leaving to do small activities. I shouldn’t have doubted him, but I’m glad I did. It’s better to apologize right now than to have to deal with the mess.”

“I know, and I appreciate you for taking care of me the way you did. I have never trusted a man this deeply”, she was the one to smile right now, and you let yourself rest your head on her shoulder as you continued. “I’ll have an eternity to thank him for everything he did to me. He’s an angel for dealing with me when I couldn’t even deal with myself.”

“I’ll tell you this”, Angela said. “Next week, I want you to come over again for dinner, and bring him with you. This time, I’ll be sure to treat the both of you as friends and not as people I need to look after.”

You nodded, and hugged her from the side when she apologized again for the way she treated you. You knew there were no bad intentions in her heart, but still felt happy that she decided to notice how harmful it could be.

Josh was waiting for you at the door when you two left, and Angela gave him a quick hug before you said your goodbyes.

“You look beautiful with my clothes on”, he said. His shirt didn’t look big on you, in fact, it fit perfectly. “I can’t believe I get to spend my time on earth with a goddess.”

“Josh, you’re literally an angel”, he laughed. “Are you sure you’re the lucky one? Cause I’m about to cuddle with a divine creature.”

You laid down, and he set himself between your thighs, kissing your naked skin and letting his head fall to rest in your leg.

“Thank you for saying whatever you said”, you started, and you could feel him smiling against your skin. “And for taking such good care of me.”

“I’m gonna take care of you for the rest of my existence, baby”, he said, his voice muffled as he planted kisses against your thighs before pressing a gentle kiss to your covered core. “Which is, of course, forever.”

You giggled, and your breathing got slower when he started undressing you.

“Well, that’s kind of a cliché, isn’t it?”, you asked.

“You know it’s the truth, Y/N. Now relax and let me take care of you, huh?”, you nodded, laying your head on your pillow and closing your eyes. “I have the rest of eternity to make you feel good.”

He felt warmer in the night. In fact, it was quite hard to fall asleep that evening when his shine, orange and blinding, kept interrupting you. You wondered what it meant, spending hours looking at his angelic features and he peacefully fell asleep, his whole body pressed against yours.

It felt good to be his. It felt even better to be you. Which meant it was coming to an end, and you weren’t exactly sure how you would handle it.

@a-bouquet-of-lilies

#Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #josh kiskza #josh kiszka fanfiction #greta van fic #gvf fanfiction

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

Text

Heart’s Desire - Josh Kiszka x Reader (angst, fluff): Part 4.

Part 4. The sun still shines

Couple: Josh Kiszka/Original female character

Words: 5173

Synopsis: A kind person is all you need. When Josh Kiszka enters your life without any warning, he is the guardian you were eagerly waiting for.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Grief, religious topics, sexual content (not entirely explicit), panic attacks.

Masterpost.

“Do you wanna get a dog?”, you asked. Josh looked at you with a funny expression. He pulled his body forward to look at you a little closer. Your face burned, not because of the hot temperature of the water, but because his eyes had that effect all the time.

“If I want to get a dog?”, you nodded. He laughed, handing you one of the mugs he was holding, filled with hot chocolate. “No, my place is too small. Do you want to get a dog? I could get you one in no time.”

It was still weird to share a bath with Josh. His body temperature was warm enough to make the whole experience more intimate, the water never getting too cold that you had to leave after staying for ten minutes. This was the second time you were doing it together, legs intertwined as Josh washed your body and massaged your arms. Even used to his naked body right now, there was no way you could stop yourself from staring at his torso, soft and petite. His skin glowed more than ever when he was this close to you, and there wasn’t a part of you that wanted to leave that exact same place.

“No, Josh, I don’t want to get a dog”, you laughed with him, now, and you shared sips of the hot chocolate. Josh was good at cooking, and that was a discovery you had to make on your own. He was always offering you something, and you couldn’t say no, because you always knew it was going to be amazing. “I just feel like you look like someone who could take care of a dog. Or a baby, I don’t know.”

Josh stared at you for long enough to make you cross your arms in front of your body, too uncomfortable with your own existence to let him look at you for too much time. You were constantly scared that he would see right through you, the insecure, way too immature woman that was just starting to feel better.

You were more used to his presence now. It didn’t seem unnatural when Josh stayed over the first night, your bodies close together as you slept peaceful as ever, his warm hands caressing your hair and making you dream of good things for once. So, as it felt good and no one had anything against it, he just stayed. Of course, you encouraged him, telling him that you were feeling lonely and, if he wanted to get his clothes and toiletries from his place, he was more than welcome to spend a few days with you. It was an unusual way to start a relationship, but it felt so right that you were starting to wonder if he was ever going to leave - and you wished he didn’t.

It was on the third day where a feeling got to you and wouldn’t leave, no matter how hard you tried. It was something that you had been ignoring for long enough, and now that it was finally out and pressuring you into finding an answer, it was almost suffocating. The Josh that you thought was a vision, a way of your mind telling you that he was your destiny, had disappeared as soon as the real Josh decided he would be constant in your life. You wanted to pull him by the hand and ask him to explain everything he knew, if that was something that he felt too or your mind was pulling tricks to make you slowly lose your mind, just because it was fun to watch you as you lost it.

Josh felt like a kind reminder of your own sanity, and you had this weird feeling inside your chest that you instantly got better the moment he showed up in your life. Of course, this was just a natural reaction to something as deep as romantic attraction, not an actual way of getting better. You were not getting better, you never would feel good again, and you knew that, but it felt good to have a distraction that would, at least, force you to take care of yourself enough so that you could wake up the next morning. You also noticed how other people stopped showing up when you first met him, and you wondered if they could feel his presence as you could, the urge to feel joyful and warm. You felt like you could tell him anything. Everything.

So you did.

“My mother died”, you said, simply, and his reaction was exactly what you had imagined. His body instantly got closer to yours, impossibly close, making some of the water from the tub fill your bathroom floor. “That’s why the apartment is so dirty. That’s why I look terrible. I have been trying to avoid talking about it for way too long.”

“We can talk about it right now, if you want to”, Josh had this trustworthy look to him, so you decided talking to him could help you get it all out. Still, there was something holding you back.

“I want to talk about it, yes”, he nodded, holding you tight, making your body react to his body heat even more. Every time he held you, you felt overfilled with emotion and warmth. “But I can’t look at you as I do it.”

Josh seemed to understand what you meant. He always did, somehow, and that always impressed you. Sometimes, during all those days you had spent glued to each other, inseparable, you felt like you didn’t even need to express yourself with words so that he could understand you. He just did, magically, unexpectedly, knowing exactly what he needed to do and say as you watched him become a lot of things, all at once: a friend, a therapist, a lover, the one you could count on.

It took you long enough to finally move and find a position inside the bathtub that would be comfortable. Your back was pressed against his chest, both of you completely spread inside the tiny space, your legs on top of his, Josh’s arms wrapped around your waist, as tight as he possibly could hold you without hurting you. You could feel every part of him as if you were one person, connected by skin, heart and soul. Josh kissed your cheek, waiting for you to start speaking, and his wet curls pressed to your neck made you get distracted for a moment, before you remembered how disastrous the whole situation could become, how your sadness could make him leave you alone again.

“I was alone when I found her”, you started, and Josh let his head rest on your shoulder. “We were always alone, but this time, I felt like the house was too quiet. There was always music, always something that let me know she was still around, but this time, the only thing I could hear was the fridge.”

Josh paid attention like a student, like he needed to memorize every word or it wasn’t even worth listening to you. You settled your arms on his, holding your own waist as you got more comfortable.

“Since then, everyone has been telling me what to do, how to react to everything, how I needed to take care of myself and make her proud”, you felt Josh nodding against your skin, and dared to look him in the eyes before you were even able to continue talking. “But I don’t feel like taking care of myself, Joshy, you understand what I mean by that?”

He nodded again. Words escaped him, because he knew that if he said anything he would change the conversation’s direction completely. Josh hugged you even tighter, if that was even possible. You could feel your insides turning into flowers and a soft, cool breeze.

“When you showed up, it felt like one of those moments in a movie where the main character just bumps into this hot, kind man and they live happily ever after. All because of what seems like destiny”, he giggled, and you turned to look at him again. Looking at him was hard, took all of your energy, making your eyes close instantly at the blinding light that emanated from him.

“You think I’m a hot man?”, he asked. You slapped his arm, making him laugh even harder before joining him.

“And kind!”, you explained. “What I mean is, I was completely lost when you found me and decided to be nice, and that made me feel like it was a set up, some kind of sick joke, someone trying to make me feel better before they could ruin my life again.”

“I would never, ever do anything to make you suffer, Y/N. This was all a coincidence, and I’m glad our souls found each other when you needed a helping hand the most”, his voice was soft, like someone trying to make a pet sleep or approach someone who’s nervous. “Everyone’s been telling you what you should be doing or feeling since she died. What do you want? Hm?”

Something deep inside you made your mouth open. You felt as if your whole body was trying to confess something to Josh, make him know every detail about you, every thought you had about him and about others. You quite literally were naked right in front of him, but you felt like, in a deeper, metaphorical way, you were completely exposed to him, like someone who can’t keep their mouth shut and desperately needs to share everything.

“I want to gather all the pain that I have been feeling for this whole time and throw it in the trash”, you started, faster than you had ever spoken. You would be surprised if he could even understand you. “I want you to stay with me, even if you don’t want to. I want to be egoistic and think of myself before I think about you. And, oh, Josh, I want you to stop showing up in my thoughts like a giant ball of yellow light.”

“Oh, dear. I don’t actually think you want me to do that”, he laughed, and you changed positions to be staring at him now. “But I can stay. I have been staying, anyways.”

“What did you do to me, Joshua?”, you asked. “Is that a Twilight thing? Are you a vampire reading my mind? Forcing me to speak?”

Josh had the softest touch. His fingers pressed to your cheeks, drawing little patterns on your skin. One of his hands held you by the back of your neck, making you connect your forehead to his. When he finally initiated a kiss, it was as if it was your first kiss ever, like someone touching your lips with theirs was a completely new feeling. It was kind, calm, and quick, and you missed the feeling the second it was gone. When you looked at him, you were faced with your own reflection in his eyes, and you smiled at the feeling. You were not only seen, but you saw yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, he said, and your shocked face made him laugh again.

“You’ve never watched Twilight?”, he let out a quick no, and you fake gasped, pressing your body to his again. “Oh my God, that’s such an Edward Cullen thing to say. Are you sure you don’t have any superpowers?”

Josh seemed to think for a moment. There was an empty feeling of confusion when he stopped looking at you, closing his eyes in reflection. He shaked his head, as a way of telling you that he didn’t have any type of ability to read your mind or make you speak, but you could feel that he was hiding something. Suddenly, you were aware of everything around you, every feeling that could possibly be felt. You felt his breath hitting your head, your breasts glued to his chest and his legs surrounding you. You heard the water, the noise outside and, most importantly, the silence of a moment shared in solitude. It took him minutes to look at you again, and you wondered what had changed that made him have this worried look on his face, as if you had said or done something wrong, something that offended him.

Your worries were met with another embrace, this time even harder than he had ever embraced you. His whole body belonged to you, and your body belonged to him, like souls connected by its source, waiting to find each other after existences of longing and hoping. He pressed an open mouth kiss to your neck, and pushed your face by the chin to make you look at him. You took the opportunity to peck his lips once more, feeling as you melted at each other’s desperately lonely touch.

“I need to show you something”, he warned, and you nodded at him. Josh intertwined your fingers with his, making your hands drown in the water, still warm, still inviting. He made you press your forehead against his again. “Close your eyes for me, dear.”

You did as he said, and, as you closed your eyes, it was as if you had left them wide open. Your vision was filled with the same yellow light that came from Josh, and you groaned with the feeling. There was nothing you could do to stop it, so you held his hands tighter, and you could swear you heard him say “I know, I know” as your body reacted to the light, trying to take it away from you. Suddenly, it all turned black, and you couldn’t open your eyes if you tried, as if they were glued.

A touch to your shoulder made you tremble. Not because you were not used to it, but because you could feel that it wasn’t Josh touching you. His hands were too soft to be the ones touching you right now, and it didn’t take you long to recognize the touch. The eyes of your mind opened again, this time showing you a perfect reconstruction of your bathroom. You were still in the bathtub and you could feel Josh’s body against yours, but it wasn’t the same. It felt like watching your own life unfold, with no control over the things that happened to you.

You turned around, and your fears were confirmed as soon as you saw her face. She was dressed in one of her favorite dresses, and her hair was done as if she was going to a fancy party, something that almost never happened. You thought you would be glad to see her, but your reaction was of someone who was in complete panic. You tried touching Josh to tell him to stop, but your hands passed through his body and hit the water. He was untouchable, unreachable. When you looked at your mother again, you noticed she was filled with light, a white light that you knew all too well. You couldn’t touch her, but she could touch you, making you shiver and shrink against the warm hands that touched your back.

Her laughter filled the room, and you tried speaking. You tried screaming, even, but your voice didn’t come out, like someone ripped your vocal chords and left you helpless. Josh had his eyes closed, focused, and you could swear you saw an ounce of pain in his face as you tried calling for him.

Your mother didn’t say anything, and it made you feel even more panicked. She just stared, smiling and holding you. You tried to run away from her touch, but you were quickly recognizing the fact that you had no control over what was happening to you. Now, one thing you knew is that you weren't scared of your mother, but the fear of seeing her disappear again in your arms, like ashes that spread with the soft breeze that seemed to follow you everywhere, made you scream even when you had no voice at all. She kept touching you, and you could tell she was trying to calm you down, to give you a message that she was doing alright, that you could relax and live your life without her. Still, there wasn’t a way you could possibly relax when you remembered everything that happened to her.

It took you what felt like hours to be able to touch Josh and tell him to stop. It started as desperate attempts to touch him and scream, all unsuccessful. Slowly, painfully, you could feel his skin against your finger, and you still had to gather all your strength to be able to touch him completely. You shaked his shoulders with all the energy you had left, and your eyes closed again, this time making you feel like you were falling asleep.

Josh had to hold you, one hand on your back and the other to the back of your head, when you both woke up from the vision. You noticed how you almost hit your head, and the panicked look you gave him was the one you received from him as well. Once you could get up again and come to your senses, you let go of his touch, struggling to get out of the tub. A trail of water ran down your legs and onto the floor as you tried running to your bedroom. You listened to his rushed steps as he followed you, and you were able to lock the door as you found your bedroom just before he could get to you.

Josh was screaming just outside your door, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying, too busy trying to calm your breath. You sat on the floor, your knees pressed tightly against your chest as you listened to him pounding on the door, trying to get in. You felt like your heart would jump out of your chest by your mouth, and the tears that ran down your face did little to no good as you tried calming down, trying to come to your senses and understand what had happened.

Of course, this wasn’t the time you had a vision of your mother, but the circumstances were freaking you out. He was the one who caused this one, and you were so scared of him you could barely breathe. You weren’t scared of who he was, or rather what he was, but you were terrified of the idea of not knowing exactly what his powers were and what he had caused to this day. You start listening to his voice again, and this time you understand him. Not because your body started reacting, but because he was inside your head.

“Can you hear me?”, he said, his voice distant. You nodded with your head. “Y/N, can you please let me come in? We need to talk.”

“Why would I let you come in?”, you asked, without actually saying anything.

Now, his voice was back at the door, and you could understand him completely. You got up, slowly, trying to be silent so he wouldn’t listen to you walking up to him. You could tell his head was resting on the door, as nervous as you were.

“Look, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, okay?”, he said, with a voice that would calm you even if it was saying the most terrible thing you had ever heard. “She told me she needed to see you, and I let her. I lost control, I’m sorry. Please, just let me in.”

“What do you mean she told you, Josh?”, you screamed, your voice failing as you tried to act more put together. “She’s dead, you get that? Who the fuck are you?”

The voice that followed your question was shaky, and you wondered if he was crying. The bad feeling inside your heart was growing every time you tried to get a response from him.

“I’m gonna tell you everything, just let me in”, now, you could tell he was definitely crying. He let out a painful sob before continuing. “I just need to see you, please.”

It still took you a few minutes to open the door, and he waited for you to let him in calmly, looking at you with red, sad eyes. You didn’t say anything to each other, and Josh took his time to get to his suitcase and get dressed again, getting his new shirt wet with the water from the tub. It dawned on you that you were still naked, and insecurities you didn’t even know you had hit you like a truck, making you try to hide most of your body. Josh walked to your closet.

“Is it okay if I touch you?”, he asked, as soon as he joined you, clothes on his hands.

Josh took his time to dress you, making sure that every single one of his moves felt like a caress to your skin. His touch still felt innocent, and he was avoiding touching you in places that would make you feel even more insecure. When he put your shirt on, he made sure to brush your hair with his fingers. You felt more relaxed, but still, deep inside of you, you were scared of his words.

“I’m here because I am your guardian, Y/N”, he explained, as if it made instant sense to you. You laughed, now laying in your bed and avoiding his face. You knew if you looked at him you would believe everything he said, and that wasn’t exactly what you needed to be doing right now. You needed to trust yourself and no one else.

“Did someone hire you? Was it Angela? Ugh, she’s such a bitch”, he laughed, and tried getting closer to you. You didn’t let him, using your leg to stop him.

“No, Y/N, that’s not what I mean”, Josh had a playful sound to his voice now, and you knew this was his way of making you feel more comfortable. “Well, maybe God hired me.”

You couldn’t believe him, joking around while you freaked out about his actions and his words. You turned around to face him, now knowing that your anger wouldn’t allow him to convince you.

“When we first met, you said you recognized me”, he started, and you nodded in confirmation. “Why did you recognize me?”

Your mind was working fast now. You told him about everything, the way he would appear to you in your dreams, put you to sleep when you were feeling depressed, the hallucinations you had where he would be the only beautiful image inside your head. He listened, but it didn’t feel like news to him. Josh smiled when you mentioned the way he would play with your hair until you fell asleep, and held his hand out so you could hold it.

“But it’s not you, Josh”, you explained, and you saw one of his eyebrows being raised in confusion. “It’s a creature that looks like you. White eyes, this shine that keeps blinding me. It’s not human.”

He laughed, and you let him lay beside you. You both turned to face each other, and he held your face with both of his hands. Josh looked at you, and you understood immediately that he was trying to ask you if you were ready. You nodded, and he held you close again.

Immediately, you could feel way too many things at once. The soft breeze, so familiar and cold, a good smell of flowers. You looked outside, and saw butterflies flying in front of a rainbow and trying to enter your bedroom by the window. You looked at Josh, and he was smiling, bigger than ever before.

He stopped holding you to hold a white feather that fell, and you couldn’t start to imagine where it had come from. Josh could sense your skepticism, and suddenly everything stopped.

“I have been trying to tell you this for days, dear”, he started. “I wasn’t hired to be your guardian. I’m your heavenly guardian, an angel, if you will.”

He was going insane. You knew that, and he knew you knew. He tried to understand what your expression was telling him, but all he could sense was a funny feeling of realization.

“Are you kidding me, Josh? That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

Josh laughed.

“No, I’m not kidding”, he responded, and you slapped his arm again. “Listen, Y/N, I understand that this is confusing to you, and I won’t blame you if you don’t want to speak to me. I can leave just now, but you can’t tell me you weren’t suspicious.”

“This makes no sense, why would I need a guardian angel?”

“That’s not exactly how it works. Everyone has a guardian angel, except for angels themselves. And we have to be honest, you did need one.”

Josh tried convincing you once more, but you weren’t having it. It was a dumb explanation for what seemed like a very normal psychological response to your grief and the feelings that were drowning you. A depressed girl dreams about a beautiful guy who she probably saw on the street but didn’t recognize, and the beautiful boy she made up says nice things and treats her well. It’s a classic hallucination, and you knew it.

“Did Lucas send you?”, you asked, and he knew instantly who you were talking about. “Is this his way of getting back to me after I told him to leave me? Cause that’s not funny.”

“I know this makes no sense, but please pay attention to your own mind. You know I’m telling the truth.”

“No, you’re not”, you screamed, and he wiped a single tear that threatened to fall. “You’re a dirty liar who’s trying to ruin my life.”

Josh stopped talking. He knew why you were reacting the way that you were. He knew everything about you, actually. Your thoughts, the things you liked and every single thing that had ever happened to you were registered inside of him as a data system. He knew what he had to say and do most of the time, but right now, you seemed inaccessible to him, like a stranger that would never open up enough.

“She told me about you, before she died”, he simply said, and your heart skipped a beat. “I knew God was coming to take her, and I needed to know what to do in case you couldn’t deal with it. She told me about everything, every single ex boyfriend, every heartbreak. I promised her that if I did decide to show myself to you, I would let her talk to you.”

“What?”

“Her soul is connected to yours forever. I made sure she would never leave you, even if you felt like you wanted her to.”

You stayed quiet for a while, and he let you think before you continued the conversation.

“Let’s say you are a secret guardian angel, Josh”, you started, and he sat on the bed to pay attention to your logic. “Why did you let me have all of those terrible visions? I had to watch her die again, and you let it happen.”

“That wasn’t my vision to control”, he said. “I can’t control the things you see naturally, the vivid dreams you have. But I can control the way you react to it, and the way you move on after it’s done. And I tried my best, dear, I swear I did.”

You remained in silence for what seemed like an eternity. You stared at him, trying to understand everything he had told you, but you couldn’t think of something to say. You knew, way deep, you believed him. The signs were there, they always were, and you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. You wiped away your tears, and said the best thing you could think of that moment:

“I’m gonna take a nap”, Josh giggled, and started getting up when you held his hand. “I never said you were supposed to leave.”

- - -

“If you are an angel, why did you act so romantic around me?”, you asked, and you felt his breath on your neck as he laughed at your comment. “Oh my God, I kissed a divine creature, Josh. Many times, even!”

“I’m acting so romantic around you because that’s what you wanted from me”, he replied, and turned his head to look at you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “And that’s what I wanted from you, too.”

“Isn’t that, like, against the rules or something?”, you kissed him again. “Are we both going to hell now?”

Josh took his time setting himself on top of you, sitting on your lap as he lowered himself enough to hold your face.

“We’re spirits of love, honey’, he explained, and laughed at your reaction. “I’m a spirit taking a human form, which means that I need to experience love the way humans do, and that includes typical romance sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”, he kissed both of your cheeks. “Especially when my human is this incredibly beautiful.”

You giggled, and you couldn’t stop your thoughts even if you wanted to, because you knew he could read them.

“It’s actually kind of upsetting that you’re an angel, you know?”

He knew.

“Hm? Why?”

The bastard knew.

“Because I thought maybe you would sleep with me tonight”, you explained, and you thought, for a moment, that the confusion on his face was genuine. Of course, it was not, cause he laughed at you again.

“I have been sleeping with you, Y/N. For many nights, actually”, you laughed, and he lowered himself even more to give you a gentle kiss.

“You know, Josh, you might be an angel, but I don’t think you’re that dumb”, you replied. Josh got up again, still sitting on your lap, and pressed his hands to your waist.

“There’s this old poem that I read once, way before you were here with me”, Josh started. “There are a lot of angels, and they’re not the sweet little creatures you would imagine them to be. They’re just human spirits, wandering around the earth. They ask one of the angels if it was possible for them to have intercourse. You know what they said, honey?”

“No.”

Josh pressed his lips to your neck, with an expertise that you didn’t expect at first. You held his waist too, your head resting on the pillow.

“They said that angels are happy by their essence”, he said, stopping a few times to kiss your skin. “And without love, there is no happiness. If I’m being completely honest, Y/N, I’m dying to make you happy.”

That night, as you finally stripped away your insecurities and let Josh touch you wherever he wanted to, you whispered profanities never imagined before. And, even under his celestial protection, you knew hell had a special place reserved for you. It didn’t matter. You were his, and he was exceptionally yours.

- - -

Author’s note: Can’t believe this story is almost coming to an end! This was extremely fun to write. It took me long enough to think of a reveal, and I wondered for many hours how I would react to it. I came to the conclusion that I would probably just get so confused that I would take a nap. Hope you enjoyed it!

@a-bouquet-of-lilies

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka fanfiction #gvf fluff #greta van fic #gvf fanfiction

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Heart's Desire??? Muy bueno. Can I be on the taglist💕

Absolutely! Thank you for reading and for asking! <3

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Heart’s Desire - Josh Kiszka x Reader (angst, fluff): Part 3.

Part 3. Brighter from Above

Couple: Josh Kiszka/Original female character

Words: 3993

Synopsis: A kind person is all you need. When Josh Kiszka enters your life without any warning, he is the guardian you were eagerly waiting for.

Author’s note: Not entirely sure how many more chapters this fic will have, but I’m enjoying writing it! Thank you for reading!

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Grief, (sort of) suicidal thoughts, religious topics (mostly focused on christianity)

Masterpost.

You could feel her skin right next to yours. It was warm enough to make you miss how the summer sun would hit you, golden and bright. There was this known feeling of belonging, but your body didn’t feel yours. You looked at yourself for a second, and recognized quickly what was wrong. She looked younger, her face with a tiring expression that only a young mother would carry, and her hair looked lucious and soft. She looked like that mother you once knew when your siblings left you all alone, the mother who remembered being young and glad to be alive, who liked old music and could quote every single concert she had ever been to. You looked younger, too. Smaller body, soft skin, a pinch of hope inside your chest that didn’t seem to go away.

It wasn’t a dream. You knew that because your dreams didn’t feel that real. Sure, you remembered dreaming about getting shot and waking up in pain, and you remembered dreaming about Lucas and waking up crying. It wasn’t a hallucination either. You promised yourself to stay completely sober for at least a few days, to see how your body would react. That being said, there was still a lot to worry about. If this didn’t have a simple explanation, then what was it?

“There was a guy mommy used to hang out with”, her voice sounded distant enough to be unrealistic, but you could still find yourself remembering details about her tone, the way her voice would get a little lower when she used to get nostalgic. “His name was Robert. Can you believe he actually got me a guitar? Your grandfather wouldn’t let me have one, but Robert felt like I had real talent.”

It came to you. You remembered this entire conversation. You remembered what you said next, what she replied and the moral of the story. There was always a moral, something that she wanted you to know and a rule that she wanted you to follow so you didn’t have to live life like she did, locked inside a room with a child that is too dependent and other children that wouldn’t even visit or call.

It wasn’t a dream or a hallucination. It was a memory. One that seemed like watching a movie you’ve memorized word by word, but kept rewatching it every time you found an opportunity, because knowing the ending was more comfortable than having to guess a new one. Even then, you couldn’t tell why this memory was so clear and realistic, why you could feel her, hear her, watch her as she moved.

“Do you still have your guitar?”, you asked, and she laughed. You knew what the reply was, and now, as a grown woman, you wished she had the existence she so desperately wished for before she had to take care of you. “No, I don’t”, she replied. “My mother threw away everything I had when she found out I was pregnant for the first time.”

You knew this story well. Your mother started dating your father when she was just a teenager, and got pregnant out of marriage. You had no memories of your grandparents, and that is because they simply didn’t want anything to do with any of their grandchildren. It was more of an act of pride than actual lack of love for you, but after everything they had done to your mother, they knew you and your siblings would always have hatred inside your hearts, passed to you almost genetically by your mother, still fearing she would never have their care again.

“Listen, kid. If you ever find yourself giving up on things you enjoy because someone else doesn’t feel like you should be doing it, get up and leave”, she said. Your eyes followed hers, and tears could be seen trying to slowly escape.

Something about your mother always told you that you would have to take care of her forever and ever, making sure those memories and regrets never made her too upset to stop wanting to be there for you. You recognized, when you finally became an adult, that a relationship where a daughter had to act like a motherly figure to their own parents couldn’t possibly work without harming both parties. Even when you figured it out, you couldn’t help but wish you did more to keep her safe, her own early years being harmed by the absence of someone who would care enough to actually pay attention to her. Of course, you didn’t know how early you would have to say goodbye to her, but, even then, you wished you had done even more. Listened to every single one of her stories, never left her side, let your future self take care of you as you focused on her for just a second. You wanted to keep her there. You wanted your own children to have a grandmother. Right now, you weren’t even sure if you were ever going to be a good mother, or if your recent trauma would turn them into your own personal therapists.

You wanted to keep her next to you, making sure that memory would never go away. In fact, there was an entire part of you that wished you could live inside your memory forever, until your own body gave up and you could finally join her again. But, deep inside you, you also knew that would make her upset. She would cry and scream as you joined her in heaven, fearing for both of your lives being cut off before you could get to the good part of it.

The memory seemed to last forever, and you enjoyed every minute of it as much as you could. You weren’t exactly sure what was causing it to happen, but you thanked the gods above for giving you a glimpse of who you once were, and who your mom was before she had to leave. Every time you made eye contact with her, you saw yourself, and the person you could become. You wished you could have some of her own aspects: her love for people, her beautiful smile, her talent and her nostalgic feeling of freedom. Instead, you could see now: the only thing you had in common with her was that both of you were completely swallowed by the fear of existing.

You were taken away from your memory. It was a slow, soft transition to your previous position. You didn’t remember being in your living room, you didn’t remember starting to watch the movie you were watching and you didn’t remember opening the fridge to get the food that was on your hand. You did remember, though, that you felt slightly better.

The world seemed to smile right at you today. It was warm, but not enough to leave you sweaty. The sky had a beautiful shade of dark blue, and there were only a few clouds visible from your apartment window. By far, the most beautiful thing you could see was the rainbow that seemed to never leave, even if it didn’t rain. It was almost a reminder that the days were passing even if you weren’t ready to face them, and that the world would be ready for you when you finally decided to open up to it.

It wasn’t until late in the afternoon when you questioned your own sanity again. You could swear you heard your name coming from outside, and it made you freeze for a few moments until it all got quiet again. You heard it again, this time even louder, and you tried looking outside your window to see who it was, but you couldn’t see anything. The third time you looked, you could finally see him, the same shining aura to him as he smiled and waved at you when he saw you looking at him. You screamed back at him, telling him to wait for you.

It took you a long time to figure out what to wear to go outside and see him. Suddenly, you couldn’t even remember how he was dressed, but you decided a pair of jeans and one of your old shirts would work just fine. It took you even longer to gain the courage to finally open the front door to your building, seeing him in his full glory. He looked even better than the first time you had seen him, his curls organized and disciplined as they shined brighter than anything else. His big smile reminded you of your last meeting, and how much his presence was almost unbearably filled with happiness and warmth.

“Hi, Y/N!”, he said, as if his presence wasn’t unexpected. He took you in a tight hug before you could even say hello back to him. His arms pressed to your back as you hugged him. Your brain made sure to point out the fact that he was almost as warm as the visions of your mother were.

“Hey, Joshua”, you felt as if he could hear the confusion in your voice. He laughed before letting go of you and staring right at you again, fixing his shirt. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“I’m here to take you out, silly!”, he said, as if it were the most simple thing he had ever done. “But you might want to get lighter clothes.”

He explained, as he joined you inside the apartment, that the lighter clothes were not because the activity he had planned were difficult or physical, but because it was too warm outside and he wanted you to feel more comfortable. Of course, that was an unnecessary comment, considering how warm he was all the time. Being next to Josh was like constantly being at the beach, his voice like waves and his skin like the sun.

“This is a beautiful dress”, he started. You said he could help you find something else to wear, and he took that task seriously, taking all of your clothes in his hands to analyze them and consider how appropriate they would be for the weather. More realistically, he simply chose the best ones based on how colorful they were, a fact that made you smile every time he would gather something new.

“It’s my mom’s. It’s vintage, I guess”, he nodded when you explained, and you took the dress from his hands. It was a yellow sleeveless dress, falling to your mid thighs in a sort of way that made you look smaller than you actually were. You remember your mom telling you she had saved that dress for you, and stopped wearing it so that it would remain untouched for when you decided to wear it when you became an adult. “Can you leave for a second? I’m gonna put it on.”

The dress fit like you expected it to. A little tight, considering how much smaller your mom was when she used to wear it in her youth, but still beautiful. You couldn’t help but notice how much you liked the color yellow, and how it reminded you of better days when getting ready for something was fun. The dress also reminded you of Josh, bright and happy like nothing you had ever seen. When you opened the door to your room and came out, you pressed your hands to your waist and posed so he could see what you looked like with it on. His face changed from a soft, happy resting expression to a surprisingly shocked face.

“You look like a floating sun”, he said. His voice was like a whisper, ever so playful that it made you giggle just thinking about it. He got up, scratching the back of his head and standing like a nervous teenager watching their date to the prom open the door.

“Is that a good thing?”, he nodded quickly, like he had offended you. You laughed then, and he visibly seemed to relax as soon as you did that. “Well, thank you very much, kind sir. Could say the same thing about you.”

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?”, you asked as you walked side to side down the street. Josh seemed to be incredibly excited to be out with you, but he also seemed excited about everything. Every time a baby, a dog or a cute thing appeared next to him, he would point that out and make you stop to look at it. Everyone else seemed to also notice his contagious joy, and you took a few more minutes to get to your destination so that he could hold someone’s child.

“We are going to buy books”, he simply replied, and crossed his arm with yours once again. You were not used to that much physical touch. You weren’t sure if it felt nice, exactly, but it did feel new.

“I can’t believe you made me change so that we could go to a bookstore”, he giggled, and touched your arm with his free hand, caressing your skin. His touch was so light it felt like a feather tickling you.

“I didn’t make you change to go to a bookstore because it’s not exactly a bookstore we’re going to”, Josh explained, and you looked at him with curiosity. He pointed at a local fair you purposely ignored for all the time you lived next to it.

You didn’t ignore that place because you didn’t need anything from it, but because it was too alive and happy for your liking. Everyone was screaming, eating, singing or laughing every time you would get closer to it, and it felt like an insult to ruin their party by showing them your lost, devastated face. Now, with him by your side, it did seem to have its own charm. He guided you through the multiple people selling food or performing songs with their out of tune guitars, and you landed at the other side of the fair, with way less people in it.

“See? They’re little book vans!”, you nodded, and wondered how you didn’t notice this part of the fair before, even if you tried to ignore it as much as you could. The vans were organized as if it were a parking lot, with doors open so that people could look at the books inside. “And the prices are way lower, as well. You get the fun and the economy all at once!”

You laughed a little, hugging his waist and letting your head fall to his shoulder, waiting for him to return the action. He did quickly, wrapping you on a soft embrace, letting his hand draw little patterns on your back. It was a long, needed hug, and you felt like you both knew that quite well. He kissed your head like he did last time before letting you go.

Josh wasn’t exactly subtle. In fact, he could never hide what he was truly feeling. You gathered that by observing him for the short time the two of you had together, but it was enough time to notice how much he actually wanted you to be there with him. Your mind had too many questions about him, and none of them would be answered soon, considering how actually enchanted you were by him. Your main question, of course, is how and why he would appear to you as a hallucination before you even met him, and why that hallucination didn’t try to kill you or hurt you, but simply took care of you.

The first theory that came to your mind was that Josh was a vision, a reminder of your destiny and who you would end up meeting. Even with that question answered, there was one more that wouldn’t leave your mind: if the visions of him were just a thing that your mind had created to guarantee you that you had a good man coming into your life, why could you still see the blinding light that came from him when no one else seemed to notice it?

He took you out of your thoughts as if he could hear them, and you had to suck in a breath to contain yourself from smiling when he took your hand in his, guiding you so that you could take a look at all the books. He seemed to know everyone there, or at least he was so joyful that there was no way someone wouldn’t be affected by his presence. People, mostly the ones trying to sell you their old books, smiled at you and said hello. It was like walking on a red carpet, being greeted by people who seemed to know you way more than you knew them. Of course, you knew this was all for him. His presence made you seem a little more likable.

“See, this one is pretty good!”, he pointed at an old copy of Anne of Green Gables. The cover was almost completely ruined by time, but you could see that was why he was captivated by it, his eyes glowing as he looked at it and ran one of his hands through the pages. You couldn’t help but stare at him instead of looking for books, and you wondered if he could see how everyone seemed to be completely charmed by him all the time. He didn’t seem to notice, but he looked at you to smile and show you an illustrated page.

“Have you not read it yet?”, you asked, and he replied with a simple no. You laughed at him. “It’s pretty cute. I think you should get it.”

“Maybe you could read it for me”, he said, and you took a minute to realize he was being serious. “You have a beautiful voice. And I want to spend time with you.”

You felt like he knew you didn’t work well with compliments. It’s just that you were not used to it, especially if the compliments you received had pure intentions. Josh was filled with pure intentions, his whole aura being flooded with kind words and soft touches, so you weren’t exactly sure how you should react to him.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, we can arrange that, if you want”, he could sense your insecurity.

He paid for the book and guided you, trying to make you choose one for yourself. He was excited to see every single book you would touch, making little comments about the details he would find, like notes inside the books. You decided on taking a copy of The Portrait of Dorian Gray, a book you knew and loved.

“See, what I don’t understand is why you’re taking another copy if you’ve already read this book”, he said, while you walked back to your house. Josh was in shock, as if having two copies of the same book was like abandoning a dog. As he spoke, his hand gestures were exaggerated, making your hand go up and down with his, still intertwined.

“Some copies of this book are a little different. Since it was heavily censored for so long, sometimes you find different versions of sentences”, you explained, and noticed he was looking at you, not at the street, as you crossed it. “Also, this cover is cute and I wanted to have it. Something wrong with that?”

Josh stopped, in the middle of the way, to make you look at him. He brushed a few pieces of hair that had fallen to your face, blocking his view from your eyes. “Sorry, it was distracting. No, Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with that, I just feel like you could find beautiful new stories to read.”

“Keep that up and I won’t be reading any Anne of Green Gables to you, mister”, you mockingly threatened him, with a lower voice and a finger pointed at his face. He pressed a little kiss to your fingertip, and laughed with you as you started walking again. “This is a really good book, you know? It’s a classic, every single sad teen has read it at least once.”

“Really? What’s it about?”, his thumb was brushing against your hand, a soft caressing, a simple gesture of affection that made you feel nervous, like you’ve never talked or been next to a man before.

“Egocentric men”, he laughed, the sound of it making you look at him again and wish you were not that close to your apartment. “Also gay love, but some people don’t really get that, even if it’s obvious.”

“That’s interesting. Maybe you should read that one for me too”, he said, and you gave his arm a little side punch, making him laugh. He started doing a british accent. “What? A gentleman can’t wish to spend multiple hours of his day listening to the one that is the object of his affection speak?”

“Not when you do that accent, no.”

He stood in front of you when you finally arrived at the apartment. You were hoping he would say something, maybe try and tell you that he wanted to see you again, but he didn’t. Josh stood there, looking right at you, trying to memorize your face and how it felt to look at it. He could sense your curiosity. “I just think you’re beautiful. Out of all of God's creations, He certainly took his precious time with you.”

You giggled. “You believe in God?”

“Yeah. You don’t?”, he asked.

“No, I do. Great guy”, Josh laughed at your comment, hugging you for a moment, just to be close to you. “We have a complicated relationship, the two of us. I’m kind of mad at him right now.”

“Well, I should get going”, he said, and looked at you again, with the same loving eyes he would look at everything else. “We should do this again sometime.”

There was something telling you to do as you wished. You took his face in your hands, taking care not to be too harsh, analyzing the way his skin felt, the warmth almost burning your palms. Josh looked confused, trying to figure out what your plan was, but he had no time to think when you pressed your mouths together, just so you could feel his velvet lips on yours. He sighed at the feeling, but didn’t pull away from you, holding your face with both of his hands too. You stayed like this for a second, but your mouths didn’t move, both of you trying to process what had just happened, trying to enjoy the feeling of being too close, too intimate.

You were the one to pull away from him, pressing another peck to his lips as he got ready to leave. You waved him goodbye, but you wished he had stayed. Your thoughts kept going back to your nights alone, longing for a vision of a mystical version of Josh to appear and guide you through your sadness. There was, of course, the opportunity to see him, covered in light and with his eyes completely white, but it didn’t feel like the same thing. Josh had a personality so strong and so kind that it reminded you of the word humanity. Josh was so deeply human, benevolent, that he almost felt like a vision, something from another world.

Something pulled you to him, something that never happened before, especially this quickly. You couldn’t stand to spend this night without him, and you would do anything to feel him beside you as you laid down. You remember the package beside your bed, and how every single bad feeling would go away when he showed up, the version of Josh that stayed with you as you slept, not the one that was going away right now.

As if he could read your mind, he stopped walking and turned around, coming back to you. “Actually, if this isn’t too much for you, I would like to stay over tonight.”

#gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #josh kiszka #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fic

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

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Heart’s Desire - Josh Kiszka x Reader (angst, fluff): Part 2.

Part 2. The Wounded Warrior

Couple: Josh Kiszka/Original Female Character

Words: 4824

Synopsis: A kind person is all you need. When Josh Kiszka enters your life without any warning, he is the guardian you were eagerly waiting for.

Author’s note: If you would like to request any types of fan fictions, please let me know! I will write about any of the guys :)

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Grief, drug use, depressive thoughts and hallucinations.

Masterpost.

The first minutes after waking up from the hallucinations were usually filled with the most insufferable feeling. Your head felt so heavy you could swear there was nothing more you could do to make yourself feel like a human being anymore instead of just laying there for hours until you physically couldn’t take it anymore. The effects would never go away immediately, lingering for just long enough to make you regret your actions. Your hearing would get lost in the sounds of the street, as if a million cars were honking right at your ears, telling you about how miserable you really were.

Out of all the uncomfortable feelings that came with the morning after, the one that would suffocate you the most was the heat. The warmth of another body next to yours used to be a comforting sensation, but this never felt good, the temperature inside your room making you feel like hell was just a tiny bit closer to your reality, and having to struggle out of an embrace that was not appreciated from the start made you uncontrollably mad at yourself for letting this happen again.

Thoughts surrounding last night were making your head feel dizzy. You could feel your body tense and hurting from the roughness Lucas always showed you, and every smell and thing you could touch were making you nauseous. Everything you did and saw the night before came back to you instantly as you took your first breath of fresh air for the day, and the light from the open window came strong, making you close your eyes before getting used to it. There was a rainbow right outside, shining in colorful waves and, somehow, still making you upset. You didn’t remember waking up with rain, and there were no actual signs of it, so you wondered where that came from. How dare the sky show you a perfect view after taking all you had from you.

You couldn’t help but wonder if the beautiful things remaining from the universe were signs of your mother still there, somewhere, trying to help you figure out what to do next.

The decision to check for any food in your fridge to finally have breakfast was made out of the instinctive worry for survival, but not because you were actually hungry. You didn’t remember buying eggs recently, so you tried remembering who had left these for you, without any success. Your mind was empty, focusing instead on what you had seen yesterday. As you worked on your scrambled eggs, the image of the shining creature seemed to take all of you, a peaceful feeling of belonging mixed with the anxiety and the fear of the hallucination. Something deep inside seemed to be able to describe in detail the face of whoever appeared to you, and his looks were captivating. The beauty of a soft, unpreoccupied face, shining with the strongest light you had ever seen, made you believe you had seen a figure that was almost godlike. He reminded you of the representations of Apollo, shining bright like the sun. You had never seen that creature before, and Lucas had convinced you multiple times in the past that a scary psychedelic experience was somehow fun. What part of your deeply scarred heart had made this happen? Why were the visions of murderous monsters and non-human versions of your ex partner now gone, giving up their spot for something that was not harming you in any way?

Still, as you could see his face so clearly, it still felt like a blur in your mind. Like something straight out of a nightmare, when you felt like you could remember everything, but as soon as you actually tried, only a few details came to mind.

You were already done with breakfast when Lucas woke up, and you could feel the food coming back to your throat as he got close to you and smiled. There was never comfort in your relationship when you were together, but he was really good at pretending, giving you sweet smiles that had no care behind them or rubbing your back right after ruining your entire life all over again. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was some form of punishment from a past life, an endless cycle of drowning yourself in drugs, getting better, and immediately getting worse again. Lucas was not the only one to blame, though. You were an adult, you could take care of yourself just fine and deny his offers. But, and this was hard for you to admit, you were so lonely that you would accept any offers someone would ever make. If the devil himself promised a moment of happiness to you, you would take it without questioning it.

He knew you didn’t want him to stay. In fact, you were actually confused as to why he spent the night instead of leaving in the middle of the night after he was done with you, but you also knew there was nothing that he enjoyed more than authority. The act of keeping you close even if you wanted to run away, holding your soulless body as you tried falling asleep, even if the pain and the anxiety would keep you wide awake. He also knew you wouldn’t tell him to leave, because nothing would be more demanding than having to try and control his actions after he got mad at you.

“I wish you would be nicer to me sometimes”, he started, putting some coffee on one of your mugs. You didn’t say anything, and you were too tired to actually give him a reaction. There was no reason for you to be nice, and both of you knew that. The controlling sense of your relationship had turned you into a quiet, always accepting person, and he knew you would never argue with him. After last night, and the way you gave up so easily, he had you at his feet.

He left after breakfast. For the first time in a few weeks, the silence felt good and comfortable. As incredible as it seemed, having to spend a day with Lucas was even more tiring than having to spend a day with yourself and your thoughts. You did things you were not interested in doing, just to get rid of the feeling of him against your skin. You showered for what felt like hours, making sure to scrub every part of your body that he had touched the night before. As you cleaned the foggy mirror, you noticed purple marks all over your breasts. You didn’t exactly remember why they were there, but they made you look even more dirty than before, so you showered again.

Constantine was the movie playing on the television when you finally settled down from a somewhat busy day, and you decided you were finally going to watch it. A soft breeze caught your shoulders, and it felt insanely good. You texted some of your friends back, deciding you should also charge your phone, just in case they needed to tell you something. You wondered if they would be happy to know you had a good day for once, trying to figure out if you needed help, food or company. A lot of them texted you back, and the sense of comfort you felt from their surprise and care put a smile on your face. This wasn’t usual these days.

There was this constant thought inside your head saying that bad situations could turn even the darkest days into a holiday. You wished you didn’t need to feel so bad to finally do something about your life, but, if you were being honest, it was better to have a good day after a terrible night than just having terrible days over and over again.

You got ready for bed quite early, and it surprised you when you washed your face and brushed your teeth with no difficulty. Last night felt like a distant memory, a reminder that this would be the last time you would ever do that thing. Deep inside your heart, you knew you wouldn’t see Lucas again. You wondered if your mother was going to protect you, guiding your way and taking you out of situations that could be triggering. You were laying in bed when you noticed the small package on your nightstand.

Damn, Lucas.

Something was telling you he did that on purpose. You felt like he liked making your life miserable, taking everything from you until you had nothing worth living for. Maybe, this way, you would come back to him, the past love, a still fresh and known feeling that would make a fool out of you, making you forget everything that happened. You did remember love being fresh, the funny thing inside your body that would tickle you for hours until you were finally beside him. Unfortunately for him, you also remembered the pain, the nights you would spend crying or tripping without actually meaning to be in that situation. You had made your decision, and there was nothing stopping you from getting better.

Sleeping immediately was the best option. Not only would you be able to ignore the feelings inside of you telling you that everything was your fault, but you could focus on getting better, having an actual good night of sleep for once. Thoughts of your mother surrounded you again, this time with a meaningful happiness when remembering the good, beautiful times you had together. You remembered how proud she was of you every time you got out of dangerous situations, and you remembered her loving smile as she lived beside you, always taking care of you like you still were her little girl. You fell asleep quite quickly this time.

A sudden noise woke you up. You weren’t sure what it was, but it sounded like a trumpet playing outside. You knew that wasn’t the case, because the sound was too pure to be played from a distance. You looked around your room, but nothing could be seen, only the dark outline of your furniture. This time, though, you could feel emptiness all over again. Depression had this funny way of making you think you were getting better before actually getting so much worse. You knew this feeling was just a reaction to the good day you had, and it was only natural that your brain was used to feeling terrible instead of happy, so you tried brushing it off and going back to sleep. Instead of doing that, your mind kept you awake and vigilant, and everything inside your room felt dark red, dramatic and straight out of a 80’s slasher movie. You thought your lights looked neon, and every single feeling you had made you feel unsafe. There was no way these things were real, and you knew it, but it still didn’t make it feel better, more usual, more bearable.

You needed light, and you knew what you had to do to get it.

When it first hit you, it wasn’t as hard as the other night. There was no anxiety, no need for worry. You didn’t remember it feeling actually good, and you felt surrounded by a light that was getting familiar to you. The trumpets outside got louder, instead of softer, and it finally made you realize what was going on with you. You wished this would be a good trip, one that would bring you the momentarily happiness you needed to go back to bed and continue your work on getting better in the morning. You wanted to feel a soft breeze that would kindly put you to sleep like a baby.

You sat there for minutes, trying to gather everything that you could to make you feel safe again. You noticed your room going from a dark red to a light orange, your eyes shutting immediately from the shock. There was some kind of hope inside of you, one that screamed for him, for his comforting figure and his knowing light. He wasn’t coming anytime soon.

Instead, you felt your bed getting heavier, like someone had sat right beside you. You wondered if Lucas had found a way of getting to you again, opening your door by force and making himself welcome. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t the creature, either. You could recognize the sweet scent of your mother anywhere you went to, and you turned to face her. She didn’t have a smile on her face, but an empty expression of tranquility, and she laid beside you to face you. Fear made you stop looking at her, and you stared out the window for a second, feeling her arms struggling to hold you like she used to when you used to fall asleep together. Your body felt rigid and unwelcoming, and that was because you knew that wasn’t really your mother, but the idea of her you still had in your hair. In fact, you could see something wrong with her face, as if her eyes weren’t exactly that color or her nose seemed a little bit bigger.

You laid with her for hours, and you wondered when the hallucinations would finally leave you empty and normal again. It didn’t feel as comforting as you thought it would, and there was this pit feeling in your stomach telling you that you couldn’t remember her anymore. Maybe, it didn’t feel as good because you knew you wouldn’t get to hold her ever again, and that feeling made you wish you weren’t tripping anymore.

You were already asleep when something changed. You could still feel your mother’s arms around you, but they were somehow weaker. You tried turning to the side to see what had changed, and the once human arms turned to bone. You couldn’t scream or move, now hyper aware of your own body being trapped by yourself, and the bones suddenly turned to ashes, touching every part of your body and coating you with a smell of smoke and a tickling feeling that you couldn’t seem to be able to take off of you.

You cried silently, and wondered where the light you most expected was hiding.

Why wasn’t he coming for you?

Screams only inside your head called for the lighting creature to help you get out. He was the only reason why you decided to hallucinate again, and you couldn’t guess why it hadn’t worked this time. You could see him in your head again, the beautiful features that calmed you down, but he was nowhere to be found.

The other day came rushing, and you didn’t remember actually going to sleep. Your head wasn’t hurting, and your body didn’t feel as sore as the other times. That was just a lucky situation, and you knew that, because usually the feeling was almost unbearable. Thoughts wouldn’t leave you alone, the burning image of your mother disintegrating right in front of you, turning to ashes as she touched you, leaving you alone again. A soft breeze hit your face as soon as you entered the living room, and your stomach was begging for breakfast. You tried thinking about something that could make you feel better, make you forget all those terrible things and focus on yourself.

You could smell fresh coffee, the one they would make down the street, and you remembered how much fun you had going on little coffee dates with your friends, ordering fancy desserts and talking for hours until someone had to tell you the place was closing for the day. There was a sense of contentment in remembering another life, one where you were an avid reader and tea drinker. You knew, of course, that if you wanted to get better, you needed to start going out again, at least for a few minutes, to gather the sense of humanity in other people, to notice how much the world would move on and change even when terrible things were happening to multiple people at once. The world didn’t seem to care how much you were hurting, and it would continue growing every single day you would refuse to leave the apartment.

Simple clothing was all you had now. Black sweatpants and an old t-shirt you used to wear because you thought it made you look hot. Now, you just looked like someone who would make too many excuses not to be somewhere, who would stay in the same clothes for days and days until their own smell became too strong. Still, you felt fresh as you let your hair down and tried to gather everything you needed. Keys, your phone and the rest of the money you still had left from missing all those days at work. You weren’t even sure if you had a job by now, but that was something you would have to think about another day, or it would get too overwhelming to exist.

The walk to the cafeteria was short, and you took your time to notice how things had changed. New people walking with their dogs, children that had grown, old ladies becoming more old by the second and houses that were being painted another color. It was almost like the neighborhood had gotten happier without you, and that thought was not the best you could have at the moment.

The cafeteria smelled strong, like sugar and espresso, and there were too many people trying to get a table. You wondered if that would make you have a panic attack like you thought it would. You were almost sure, actually.

You knew what you had to do.

5 things you could see.

The waiter in a red shirt. Coffee machines. Red couches and black chairs. Bookshelves. Curly hair.

4 things you could feel.

Sadness. Panic. Hope. A soft familiar breeze.

3 things you could hear.

A child screaming. Someone slurping on a straw. A melodic voice.

2 things you could smell.

Espresso. Coconut shampoo.

1 thing you could taste.

Nothing. Yet.

You felt something warm touching your hand when you finally came back to reality. You looked down to see a coffee mug, yellow and sparkly, filled with a drink. You looked up to try and understand what was happening.

“They have a loyalty program. Today was the day I could exchange my card for a free coffee, but I wasn’t really craving coffee at all”, that was where the melodic voice was coming from. The man right in front of you, ordering as you came to your senses. Your vision was too blurry to see if you actually knew who he was and why he was offering you his free drink. “I’ve ordered a tea for myself, so you don’t have to worry about it”.

There was silence between the two of you. You felt his warm touch once again when he pulled you out of the line when someone started complaining about you standing there without ordering anything immediately. The breeze was somehow stronger now, and you were almost cold for a second, as your whole body reacted to the change in the weather with shivers and shakes. He kept his hand on your shoulder, while the other one still held the mug so you wouldn’t let it fall.

“Are you okay? You seem a little lost”, he asked again, and you could swear he had a gold shimmer to him, like his skin was glowing. Your eyes were still blurry and you were still confused as you held the mug.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know you, and I can’t accept your coffee”, you simply said, and you could feel his hand moving away from your body, the burning sensation leaving you empty. “I do appreciate it, though, have a nice one”.

You were fastly leaving as he pulled you again. His touch wasn’t hard, and he didn’t hurt you, but somehow you felt the need to let yourself be pulled, let him control exactly where you were and what you were going to do. This time, your vision cleared out as he handed you the mug again, and you felt as if your heart was about to come out of your throat at any second. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, the color of wood and honey mixed perfectly to create a symphony. The rest of his face was so familiar you had to hold his arm to keep yourself from falling. His beautiful nose. His soft, plump, red lips. The tiny gap between his front teeth as he smiled at you with a worry that you could imagine was more than plausible. The shine that radiated from him and only you seemed to notice in the sea of other people that joined you at the cafeteria.

“You look like you’ve seen a spirit”, he giggled. You tried breathing again, but everything about him was so familiar to you that it seemed like staring at yourself.

“I-”, you were interrupted immediately by the waiter.

“Joshua?”

He turned around to stare at the waiter and get his cup of tea, and you took that small portion of time to stare at him, take in his features, admire the way his curls made him look almost angelic.

“Look, I know that we don’t know each other, but you looked like you needed the company”, he explained himself, trying not to burn his fingers with the boiling hot drink. “And, honestly, I don’t think I can drink two things at the same time, so I would appreciate your help”.

You laughed at him. A genuine, but confused laugh that left your body almost instantly and made at least a feel people look at you. He stared at you like there was not an ounce of shame inside of his body, and it made you look away multiple times before you could make a decision. You could feel a magnetic force pulling you towards him, and you knew he wouldn’t give up.

You also knew you had nothing else to lose.

“I’m gonna be honest. Sitting with you to have coffee was probably a terrible idea. You could be a murdered or someone who is just trying to manipulate me into doing something for you”, you started, his eyes looked sad at your thoughts, and he had just burned with tongue with his green tea. “But, damn, that’s exactly how I would order it”.

He laughed at your comment. He seemed to laugh at everything you said, even if it wasn’t meant to be funny, his teeth shining brighter than anything you had ever seen when he did that. His eyes were closed for a moment, and you stared at him once again. He didn’t seem bothered by how much you were doing that, in fact, he didn’t even seem to notice.

“I just knew I needed to have a talk with you as soon as I saw you all alone”, his voice was lower, like a whisper that only you could hear. Your face was closer to his now, getting more used to the whole situation.

“Well, thank you for that”, you replied, and he smiled even bigger. You thought there was no way this man could get any more adorable than he was already when he finished his tea with an “ah!” sound. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously, Josh. Can I call you Josh?”, he replied with a nod, trying to read the menu and figure out what he wanted to eat. “This is my first time leaving my house just because I felt like it in a few months”.

“I’m glad you’re spending your precious time with me, then”, Josh pressed his hand to your arm, leaving it there. You didn’t remember actually knowing someone as touchy as him, and it felt like a good change. That didn’t mean you were entirely comfortable with the idea of being this present, this aware of your own existence as a human being. He seemed to notice, because he took his hand off to press it to the table again. “Do you want a donut? I have been dying to try this red velvet donut, it looks so beautiful”.

“Yeah, I want a donut too”, he grabbed his wallet when you put your hand on his. “But only if you let me pay for yours”.

You and Josh argued for a bit over the donuts when you finally got up and paid for two of them. He was right, after all, because the food looked amazing and smelled delicious as you sat down again. Josh had a look to his face that proved how actually excited he was to eat. He took no time tasting his food, and he closed his eyes at the feeling. It was like watching someone watch their new favorite movie for the first time.

“This is astounding!”, he screamed. Josh didn’t seem like someone who cared for how other people reacted to him, and that played to his favor, considering how much people were staring at him every time he would make a loud noise or laugh a little too much about something you would say. “Seriously, Y/N, this is the best day of my life”.

You laughed, and he focused on you for a second, his eyes filled with something that you couldn’t exactly explain like nothing else but novelty. He pointed at your donut, making you take a bite as well. It just seemed like a regular donut, but you could understand his excitement.

“Is this your first time eating a red velvet donut?”, you asked, and he chuckled a bit before talking without even swallowing his food.

“No, this is my first donut ever”, he explained, and you could swear your eyes would come out of your face from how much they opened up at his comment. “What? I wasn’t used to coming to cafeterias before I found this one”.

“You look really familiar to me, Josh, do we know each other from somewhere?”, you asked, and he rubbed two of his fingers on his chin, like he was thinking really hard about your question. Josh had cartoonish ways of expressing himself, and you thought that was one of the things that made him so interesting looking.

“No, I don’t think so. But I do have quite a normal face, don’t I?” you laughed, taking another bite out of your donut. “You could find a guy like me on every street corner”.

Your conversation wasn’t long before he mentioned that he had somewhere else to be that he had completely forgotten about. During your whole conversation, you tried to seem more calm and happy as he told you all about his interests and the things he had seen that day before you two met. It wasn’t exactly difficult to be happy around Josh, he seemed like a ray of sunshine, radiating light and warmth everywhere and every time he would open his mouth. You could still see him shining bright, and you knew why he was so familiar.

That didn’t matter as he was walking you back to your building, your arms crossed as you tried to ignore all of the angry drivers that couldn’t wait for you to cross the street. Josh felt like grabbing joy by its throat, forcing it to enter your body and stay there as long as you wished. It was almost depressing when you finally grabbed your keys to open your door as he stood there, waiting for your goodbye.

He grabbed your face with both of his hands pressed to each of your cheeks. You were expecting him to kiss you and tell you he could cancel his plans if you let him go upstairs and have his way with you. He was the most charming and loving man you had met, but he was still a man. Which is why it was surprising when he pressed his soft lips to the top of your head, letting them linger there, smelling your hair as you held him too. He let go of you with the promise that you would see each other again soon.

That night, things seemed a little easier. You ignored your responsibilities and the package beside your bed, you ignored the pain that wouldn’t go away every time you looked at your own bed and saw the image of your mother disappearing little by little until she wasn’t there anymore.

Before you slept, you noticed a white feather just inside of your room, and it took you sometime to realize that there were no dead birds outside your window, but the feather had simply flown in with the help of the breeze.

You were put to sleep by a familiar touch brushing your hair out of your face and caressing your face with warm fingers.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know who it was.

#greta van fic #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet fluff #josh kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction

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expansionofsoul · 3 years ago

Text

Heart’s Desire - Josh Kiszka x Reader (angst, fluff): Part 1.

Part 1. Fearsome Sound

Couple: Josh Kiszka/Original female character

Words: 3055

Synopsis: A kind person is all you need. When Josh Kiszka enters your life without any warning, he is the guardian you were eagerly waiting for.

Author’s note: This is very obviously inspired by @garbagevanfleet and her beautiful stories about demons. Of course, this is the other way around. This was also heavily inspired by Ari Aster’s Midsommar. My view on religion for this fanfiction is based on catholicism, but that does not mean I won’t be making small changes that will fit the story better. This fanfiction is probably going to have multiple parts! Hope you enjoy it :)

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Grief, drug use, abusive ex-partner, mentions of past sexual abuse.

Masterpost.

“God, Y/N, this place is a mess!” Angela never had a way with words. You knew that, and everyone around you was already used to it. She was not going to make it feel easier just because someone was going through something. That also meant she would not be going to make it easier for you.

But you had to admit she was right. Your apartment looked like something straight out of a horror movie, with dirty clothes discarded and left anywhere and everywhere, old half eaten food in the kitchen and this constant smell of sadness. There was nothing you could do about it, and your other friends seemed to understand that, trying to make your place look just a tiny bit more clean every time they would come over. Unfortunately for them, the mess kept getting worse and worse by the minute, following the rhythm or your declining mental health.

The thing everyone seemed to miss about you is that you knew you were not doing well. People always seem to think someone who needs help simply doesn’t know they’re in a bad situation until their savior finally takes them out of their space to make it better. You didn’t need someone to make you feel better. In fact, you never wanted to feel good in the first place. That was the whole point, feeling bad was still immensely better than feeling a void on your chest, a gentle squeeze on your heart that got heavier and more painful every time you breathed.

“What would your mom say about that, huh?” Angela continued, and you had to laugh at her comment. “Do you think she would be happy that her daughter keeps trying to end her own life by not taking care of herself?”

“Well, Angela, if you can get a dead body to answer your question, I would be extremely impressed” she somehow felt more offended than you did by your comment. That made no sense to you, considering the fact that your mom was dead, not hers. She didn’t need to feel the pain and the loneliness, and her reaction was solely out of empathy hidden inside an angry person. They all reacted like that to your jokes about your situation, like they were taking your grief and making it so personal to them that the topic wasn’t even you and your family anymore.

Your mother was all you had for the longest time. You were born way too many years after your siblings, and that was the reason why everyone seemed to leave the two of you by yourselves. Dad couldn’t bear the fact that he was a father again after so many years, and your mother would tell you stories about how mad he used to get when your cries would wake him up in the middle of the night. Your siblings were present for most of your life, but once they got married and left the house, it was only the two of you. In solitude, she would tell you about her life as a teenager and the music she loved. You would tell her about your middle school crushes and your mean teachers. She got you your first job just close enough so you could have lunch together, and it felt like a part of you would always be connected to the person she raised you to be. A part of you would always, for the rest of your days, be connected to her.

The worst part about losing her was that, since you were the only one still with her, you were constantly reminded of her existence. You were the one to call your older siblings to let them know, you were the one to make sure everything was right for the funeral and you were the last one to leave after they buried her. As everyone seemed to move on quite quickly, having to return to their usual lives and families, you were the one to separate the stuff you would donate or keep. You were the one to ask for more time out of work so you could deal with the legal implications of an unstoppable action like death. It was always you. And since it was always you, you felt like dealing with it your own way.

Angela still tried to make things more organized, by washing your dishes and cleaning up some of the expired stuff you simply could not move from their original spot. This was a constant act: people would enter your apartment and stay for a few minutes just to make sure you were still alive, then leave you alone again right after. You knew it was not because they didn’t love you somehow, but because they knew this wasn’t your original person, and they also could understand that the original Y/N wouldn’t be back anytime soon.

When she finally left, you were left with the familiar sound of your own breathing, taking the quiet space and making it seem claustrophobic. The paintings on the walls were starting to get you on your nerves, so full of color that you wondered if your eyes were hurting because of the constant headache or because of the decoration. Nothing seemed to entertain you these days, even your favorite movies - and everyone tried to make you watch those, often bringing you boxes of dvds and recommending stuff on Netflix. By the silence, you knew it would be another day all alone, and another day of remembering.

You tried avoiding a panic attack at all costs. Someone had told you about a technique that used to work every time when you were younger.

You started naming 5 things you could see.

The couch. A fluffy rug. The window. Your mom’s coat. Your mom’s collection of books that you refused to give to someone else.

4 things you could feel.

Your hair hitting the back of your neck. A lot of sweat. Sorrow. Grief.

3 things you could hear.

Someone laughing on the street. The fan. Her voice.

2 things you could smell.

Coffee. Her.

1 thing you could taste.

Nothing. For days.

There was no possibility of getting better. Everything seemed to be screaming at you, letting you know that you failed as a daughter when you tried moving on but couldn’t. Of course, you knew your mom would be the first one to tell you that you should try and live your life normally after losing her, but she wasn’t there to make sure you would follow her advice, so there was no point in trying.

The day seemed heavier than usual, though, and you couldn’t figure out why. Maybe, with time passing and reminding you of your past, you would be more depressed by the minute, remembering your mother and the times you couldn’t spend with her for the rest of your life. The fact that you were the rest of her life, the one that kept her busy and working harder each day to make sure you had everything you needed, made you feel even worse. She left without warning, and there was no possibility of enjoying her own life. She wouldn’t be able to see you grow, have your heart broken a few more times before you found your partner, and she wouldn’t be able to see you have your own family, a reflection of all of the good things she left for you.

It was almost seven. You were surprised to see your phone battery could last that long when you didn’t have anyone to talk to. Sure, people tried, really tried, every second of your present life was ignoring texts from friends, family and work. People would come and go, and you would still be lonely by the end of the day, so there was no point in the effort. Still, you scrolled through your messages, just in case it was something too important to ignore. You had to rub your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming when you read the name Lucas.

Look, Lucas wasn’t exactly a great partner when you two dated. In fact, he was probably the worst partner you could have asked for. He was rude, sarcastic and probably the reason why so many of your friendships ended. But - and you had to tell yourself that too - you had nothing else to lose.

“Can I come over? Just wanted to check up on you. I can bring pizza.”

You thought about it for a moment. For the last couple of days, people wouldn’t exactly ask you if they could come over, they would simply knock on your door until you let them in. You didn’t know if he would do the same thing, but he wasn’t known for respecting others’ opinions either way, so it didn’t matter what you said. So, you said yes, of course. A butterfly entered your open window and landed on your shoulder as you let your phone down. You slapped it until it left.

Lucas took long enough to show up. Actually, you were almost ready for bed again when he knocked, always a little too hard. He looked scared when you opened the door, and it wasn’t helpful that everyone kept reminding you of how terrible you looked right now. His eyes didn’t seem sad, they didn’t show emotions at all, which was quite usual for him. Lucas was always hard to read, which would be especially difficult when you were trying to figure out if he was mad about something or simply quiet. You wondered what he would do if you didn’t let him in, a voice inside your head telling you constantly that it wasn’t a good idea to let your past mix itself with your endless present. He showed you he had a pizza box in his hand, and let himself in by pushing against your shoulder.

“How have you been?” he started. You knew he didn’t really want to know. “I’ve heard about your little seasonal depression thing.”

Your ex partner didn’t really have a special way of making you feel good about yourself. You spent all of your time together trying to figure out what was wrong with you and why he seemed so unhappy all the time. It took you long enough to finally understand that there was nothing wrong, but also nothing right enough for him. He was incredibly hard to please, and you knew he would give it his worst while trying to make you think your suffering was somehow smaller than you imagined. This had happened before in your relationship, when physical and emotional pain were treated like a way of grabbing more attention to yourself.

“Good to see you too, Lucas” you replied, and you could swear you saw him laughing at you. “Do I really need to tell you about how I’m feeling or are you here to ask me for something?”

Lucas made himself comfortable, pushing some of the clothes aside to sit on your mom’s couch, taking his shoes off before laying down. You were still expecting an answer, but didn’t feel like pressuring him too much, your energy fading from your body at every breath you took.

“I know I’m not the best, but I don’t need something from you. I just wanted us to reunite”.

“Now why would I want to do that?” he finally laughed at your comment, loud and clear.

“Because you know you have nothing else to lose”.

Fuck.

“I wish you could at least treat it as it is, you know?” you sat beside him, noticing one of your mom’s sweaters as he let you take the space. “You’re not a douchebag to everyone you know, you just act like that with me because you knew I was vulnerable and innocent enough to humiliate myself. Just be nice and ask me about how I’m doing like a normal person”.

He didn’t seem to react at all. You knew there was no point in arguing with him, it would only lead you to him manipulating you just enough to do something stupid or cry yourself to sleep, and you were already doing both of these things every single day. He kept making himself more comfortable, by taking pieces of clothing off and eating the pizza he brought while he watched TV, and you sat beside him for the entire time, trying to figure out what to say or do without him becoming suddenly aggressive and mad.

“You know what, honey, I think I have just the thing to make you feel better”.

Oh no.

Fuck no.

“Lucas, I won’t do it again” your voice seemed silly. He used to compare you to a whiny toddler when you would argue about something, and you could admit that he was somehow right about that. Your voice was suddenly high, pathetic. “I promised her I wouldn’t do that again”.

There was something else about Lucas and his manipulation techniques that kept you far away from your mother for months of your life, trying to figure out your own life as he was determined to ruin it as he ruined his own in the process. You really didn’t know why he would spend so much money buying drugs so you could get absolutely crazy together. Maybe it was about control, the way he could make you feel a certain way by making you chew on something, the way he would make you describe what you saw and felt as you were still lost in your own twisted mind. Maybe, and you thought this was the true version of the story, he liked that you didn’t seem to remember anything for the last 10 hours every time he made you do that, and he could have you entirely, without your complaints and your way of making things feel sad.

“I know you promised her, but I can’t hear her right now, can you?” he giggled, and if you had enough strength you swore to yourself that you would punch him. “Look, I’m already here, I have it with me and I won’t leave until we can do this, okay?”

It took you long enough to accept his offer, because you knew that he wouldn’t leave. That was his way of doing things, and you fell for it every single time. You didn’t know how much it took to finally hit you, and when it did, it hit you hard. You had to lay down and press your eyes shut so you could try to ignore the things in front of you. It was always like this, it would start as a giggly feeling that would move on to this weird feeling of not belonging inside your own body. You looked down at yourself, trying to figure out what to do to make it feel better. Your skin didn’t look like the same skin from before, it had an unusual shimmer to it, like a fairy in a children’s movie. The voice of Lucas’ voice as he giggled and tried to tell you about something made you shiver, and it seemed like he was inside your ears instead of beside you. Your eyes were wide open now, and this house didn’t feel like home, but like a place where you would have to fight for your life to finally be able to hear. You were suddenly too aware of the things happening around you, and you could still see the butterfly from before, trying to recover from your slaps. You could swear, for a moment, that the butterfly looked at you and smiled, with a little face that you didn’t see before.

There was this one hallucination that made your face fall, and you had to hold your knees to your chest and swing a little to recover from it. From the other side of the room, you saw a light. You didn’t even know lights could be this strong before, and your eyes hurt for a second while it came down to the light of a thousand stars reuniting, close together to create a humanly creature, covered in white and yellow. When your eyes finally got used to how it felt, you looked at its face. You could see it was a man. A rather soft looking man, with tan skin and completely white eyes. You tried to hold his hand as he got closer, but you couldn’t touch him, instead feeling the warmth of his touch on your shoulder. It was warm enough to leave a burning sensation as he took it off, finally looking at you. You tried figuring out if Lucas could see him too, but he had his eyes shut as he enjoyed his trip. A whisper came to your mind.

“Can you hear me?” the whisper said, and the creature had thoughtful eyes. You nodded. You decided you wanted to try something. “Can you hear me too?” you whispered from inside your head, your lips not moving as he smiled and nodded as well. “Then I want you to leave, please”.

You could see the light around the creature start to get weaker, and he seemed even more human right now. A little too human, like someone you could meet somewhere and have a nice conversation with. You were able to take in his features, his kind eyes and beautiful nose as well as his full, rosey lips. He nodded again. This was all in your head, and you felt a sense of control that you never felt before. But, when he left your vision, you felt empty, like there was nothing inside your heart besides an aching feeling of loneliness.

As Lucas pressed himself against you that night, there was no familiarity or happiness. There was no pleasure, no way of making you focus on something else. You could feel yourself still noticing every noise, every touch of the breeze and every light, but you couldn’t feel more content. You were glad the visions were gone, as you feared seeing something that would make your night even more miserable. But, as you tried to fall asleep with him beside you, you could see the creature again, with his face way too close to yours and a kiss pressed to your forehead that put you straight into sleep.

#Greta Van Fleet #josh kiszka #greta van fleet angst #greta van fic

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