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shimmerwindow · 1 year ago

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I Never Really

Part Nineteen

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Marijuana use

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper @torniturntomyarrow @dannythedog

To your absolute dismay, it no longer felt right waking up in Sam’s bed. You felt guilty, somehow. Immediate anxiety flooded your veins the moment sunlight hit your eyes and you rolled over to stare at his sleeping form. He was already awake, godlike and radiant with the light of the sun playing off specks of gold in his eyes.

Motions that had once felt so natural felt odd and foreign to you now. You had become so used to waking up next to him, and he would wrap his arms around you, and you would curl your body against his chest to revel in his warmth. The embrace of his arms never came, his hands tucked beneath the pillow. You were wracked with guilt, certain that you should have never spoken to him last night. Tears were already threatening to fall from your eyes before a word had even been spoken between you.

“We should probably talk,” he rasped, his voice still broken from sleep.

“Right now?” You weren’t sure you had the capacity to have this discussion, especially immediately upon waking up.

“Maybe not this very second. But some time today.”

It felt like you were about to be scolded by your mother, or berated by your boss. Your anxiety over this situation ran so high for a moment you thought you might actually vomit, but you managed to hold yourself together. “I’m sorry,” you said, tears spilling from your eyes and your head starting to ache. “For…everything.”

“Save it.” There was fire behind his eyes, a flame you’d seen many times before, when he was annoyed with his brothers or frustrated over school. He was actually angry with you, something you’d never seen before, and it scared you a bit. Not that you were frightened of him, but you were frightened of what it would mean for your future, what it would mean for you. “We’ll talk later. In my room.”

The remainder of the morning whisked by through your tear-blurred vision. He checked to make sure the house was empty before rushing you outside, out to his car, and back to the dorms. As you closed the front door behind you, you had taken one last long look at the inside of that house. It would likely be the last time you’d see it, with its creaky floorboards, chipped paint, eclectic furniture, and welcoming aura. A piece of you would remain there forever, and you knew that.

He ushered you up to his room, though with how high your nerves were, it felt like you were being escorted to the electric chair. You may as well have been – to live without him was a metaphorical death sentence. His dorm had gone through some changes between semesters, adopting his typical maximalist style more so than before. Posters you recognized from his room at the house adorned the walls, and the window sill was lined with as many plants as it could hold, all of them lush and green.

“I hate to say this,” he began, taking a seat in the corner of his bed with his back against the wall. He picked up a lighter that had been stashed on top of the soil of one of the plants, fidgeting with it. “But I’m more disappointed that you lied to me than anything.”

You sat across from him, as far away as possible, and you realized why this felt so familiar. Your positions now were identical to the way you'd sat with him the last time you’d had a conversation of this nature. Full-circle, as always. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re sorry, but…” he sighed, eyes trained on the little pink plastic lighter as he twirled it between his fingers. “Sorry won’t fix this.”

“What about you?” You couldn’t fight the urge to immediately go on the defensive. “You were with that other girl last night. Had you still been talking to her the whole time I thought it was just me and you?”

“No, actually.” He looked at you, and you could see truth in his eyes. “Hadn’t talked to her in ages. Probably shouldn’t have called her at all.”

“We all make mistakes.”

“Mistakes?” He scoffed, turning his eyes away from yours. “Is that what you’d call it? A mistake?”

You realized he wasn’t talking about his own actions. “Listen, I know you’re not happy with me. But why are we talking about this at all? I fucked up, and I know that. So we should just drop it, drop all of this, drop each other.”

“You know neither of us can.”

“Maybe we should learn, then.” You spoke softly, hoping your voice would not reach your own ears.

“Or maybe, we could just…keep some distance.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”

He pulled his shirt collar aside, scratching at his shoulder. Just to the side of his collarbone, a circular bruise had blossomed, in the shape of your teeth. The sight of it made you ache, a feeling you knew would not be sated for a long time – if ever again. He didn’t respond, clearly trying to gather his thoughts, yet failing.

“I’m not tainted, you know,” you mumbled. “I’m not ruined because I…did that. And you’re not innocent, either.”

“I know you’re not. It’s about the trust. You lied to me.”

“You never made it official.”

“I didn’t think I needed to.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And you made it clear you wanted to wait, anyway.”

It dawned on you that perhaps you’d also been the one to put him in a difficult position. To expect him to stay perfectly faithful, when you had betrayed his trust and lied to him about it, was incredibly unfair.

“And I didn’t think about it from your perspective.” He fidgeted nervously, trying to work it out in his head. “It probably looked like I was leading you on. But I didn’t realize you’d go running to the one guy I kinda made off-limits to you. But, also, it was unfair to make someone off-limits to begin with.” He shrugged, twirling the lighter between his fingers.

“We’re both guilty.” You stared down at your hands in your lap, your eyes tracing over the remnants of the scar still present on your palm. A reminder of the love you’d shared so briefly, much more permanent than the finger-sized bruises on your hips.

“Space, then. We need to step back.”

“God, I don’t want to do that.” You whined it like a petulant child, squeezing your hands into fists.

“Do you love me?” He turned to face you, his eyes boring deep holes into you. With the gloomy sunlight hitting him, you could see the bruise on his face much more clearly. His brow was still a bit swollen, the remnants of a dark circle present in the yellowish color marring the space under his eye.

“I do.”

“Then we need to.” He held out his hand for you to take, entangling your fingers gently. “I can’t lose you permanently. Take some time to heal and I’ll do the same.”

The idea that you had to heal from anything – especially the wounds you gave each other – was mortifying. It brought you to tears, though you had none left to let fall.

“How am I supposed to live like this?” You asked.

“When you figure it out, let me know.” He tried to give you a smile, though it didn’t convey anything but sadness. “We just have to suck it up. No contact. I won’t text you, and you won’t text me.”

“No more walking to class together.”

“No more dinners together, either.”

“What if I run into you at the plant sale this week?” You said, a smile forcing its way to your lips.

“Just pretend I’m not there.”

* * *

The two of you managed to successfully avoid each other, for the most part. For a week, you didn’t see much of him, only the occasional glimpse between classes as you passed on the walkways. You’d always pretend as if you hadn’t seen each other. It was painful, but less than you'd anticipated, in all honesty. It was not a soul-crushing sadness that consumed you, but something more like a sense of relief. It was nice to finally prove to yourself that you would be okay without him, and to finally have time to reflect on your actions.

You were able to admit to yourself that you had, in fact, slept with Jake as some form of revenge. It hadn’t been conscious at the time – you'd been so deep in lying to yourself about everything, it felt natural to add another tangle to the web. But Jake had never been someone you’d wanted to pursue, not until you realized how badly it would hurt Sam if you slept with him. Neither of them had deserved any of it.

By the second week, something started to shift. You’d taken the time to own up to your actions in your own head, and the guilt that once crushed you began to dissipate. When you saw Sam, you’d stop, say hi, make up some excuse to talk – maybe you remembered some random knickknack you left in his room, maybe he remembered you still had one of his shirts, though it was always a lie. And both of you knew it.

At the third week, on one Friday night, he texted you. Something simple, only saying hello and asking how you were. You’d told yourself not to reply, fought with yourself typing and deleting paragraphs declaring your love over and over, until you wrote an equally bland response. Things continued this way for weeks, the occasional talk, the random texts, all of it cordial and simple.

Until one night, when you’d had a bit too much out of the wine you’d snuck into your dorm, and he’d been feeling a bit too bold. You’d texted him something a bit too risky, and within minutes, you heard a knock at your door. That had been the first night you’d broken your own rules, and it seemed to be a constant cycle from there.

Space was not something you could successfully keep. Not when you would “accidentally” run into each other on your way back from class. Not when he would stare at you with those eyes the color of Venus, smile at you with a mouth of perfect teeth and pink lips. Not when you would visit him in his dorm, with the intention to help him with an assignment, a code both of you learned quickly. Every time, it would end with your clothes on the floor, your naked body against his, your head on his chest as he held a smoldering joint between his teeth. Today was one such day.

“We really shouldn’t keep doing this,” he said, absently brushing his fingers through your hair. “Probably not good for us.”

You were quiet for a minute, listening to the crackle of paper burning as he took another hit. “But it’s so nice, isn't it?” You grinned, even though he could not see your face, playing the part of the devil on his shoulder.

“Sure is.”

You watched smoke curl up and away from you, sucked out the window by the gentle breeze. Spring was nearly here, midway into April, the chill finally gone from the air until the next batch of snow came. Spring in the midwest was a fickle thing. It was too cold at night to open your window, but you still always did – there was something about that smell of spring you couldn't resist. The buds on the trees, the first of the flowers poking their heads out of the ground, the birds returning, all of it was breathing new life into you. And, with any hope, breathing something necessary back into you and Sam.

It had been almost a month now of this song and dance between the two of you. It was almost as if nothing had changed, but you came closer to more arguments than before. You never fought, not outright. One of you would always back down before things could escalate too far. In all honesty, you wished the two of you could fight. There were plenty of things you needed to hash out, but you never quite could bring yourselves to bring it up. You’d both call it protecting your peace, but it felt like you were only doing more damage. You’d talked it all through to death, your mutual apologies numbering in what felt like the thousands. There were no hard feelings anymore, but the scars still lingered.

They’d started playing shows more frequently as of late. The venues had gotten bigger, cover charges had turned into ticketed events, and on a few occasions down in the city, lines had formed outside. You heard whispers of some guy down in Nashville, something about albums. It was bizarre, and didn’t quite seem to be sinking in for any of you. At the end of the day, Sam was still the wonderful, corny weirdo you’d fallen in love with. Even as you watched from the wings while women and men alike screamed and cheered for him and his brothers. The band even had a name, now. A strange one, but somehow it fit perfectly.

“There’s a show at the house tomorrow,” Sam remarked, his calloused fingers tracing shapes into the soft skin of your back. “Want to come?”

“Of course I do,” you replied. “But will that be…awkward?”

He shrugged, the motion making your head bob a bit. “It wasn’t too bad last time.”

You hadn’t seen the other guys much in the past month, only once, when you’d “happened” to run into them at a bar. The whole space thing between you and Sam had made for an interesting night. The two of you kept an almost ridiculous amount of distance, not even making physical contact once, sitting at opposite ends of the group, barely interacting at all. His brothers hadn’t quite known what to do with the whole situation, all of them glancing awkwardly between the two of you the entire night. Ultimately, they left it alone, knowing better now than to get between whatever you had going.

“I’d have to disagree,” you replied, pulling closer to him.

“For all they know, we’re still on that healthy distance kick.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“You know how I get after your shows.”

“I’m well aware.” He laced his fingers into your hair, absently playing with a few strands. “What is it about that, anyway? Does people screaming the wrong lyrics get you going or something?”

You laughed in sync with him, rolling off of his chest to lay on your elbows, looking at him. “It’s your hands, mostly. The way your fingers move…” you imitated the way his hands would fly across the strings of his bass.

“Really? These things?” He held the joint between his teeth and wiggled his fingers at you. “All calloused and fucked up?”

“That’s the best part,” you grumbled.

“Guess I just don’t get it.” He reached behind him to stamp out the end of the joint, every curve in his body a masterpiece to your eyes. “So are you coming to the show or not?”

You pondered it for a moment, turning the idea over in your head. It seemed like a perfect recipe for disaster. But the days were getting longer, the sun shining warmer on the days it didn't rain, and a part of you was aching for a drunken night of music and joy. “Sure,” you sighed. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

#sorry this one took so long it was so hard to write omg #greta van fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x y/n #inr #i never really #sam kiszka #greta van fleet sam #gvf sam #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka fan fiction

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chouxsardine · 1 year ago

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Love is a four-legged word--Sam Kiszka x reader

Summary: Love comes in all forms, it is, afterall, a four-legged word--Sam and y/n met at a park while walking their dogs. The furry friends are their best wingman.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 7418

Warnings: dogs, description of crying, allusion to death of pet, death of animals, mention of the name of alcohol (but no alcohol involved) (please let me know if I missed any!)

Genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Author's note: This is my longest piece so far and my first Sam piece (yipee!! exciting!) This was a Christmas gift to I want to @dannythedog thank her for hosting the gvf secret santa. But as late as it was… I hope it can still count as a New Year's gift? This took so long to write and I myself went through a pretty emotional journey while writing this. I have more to say, but I will save for the end if you care to read it. Enjoy for now.

“Come on, Rosie bug, it’s time for your walk.” Sam stood up from the sofa, raising his arm for a stretch.

Being the good girl that she is, Rosie was already waiting patiently at the door, sitting still while Sam put the harness and leash on her.

It was a sunny afternoon, warm and cloudless after consecutive days of rain. Taking advantage of the delightful weather, Sam decided to extend their daily walk and take Rose to the park. He has always loved this park. There’s just something so intimate about this public space that always draws him towards it. It is situated a few blocks away from downtown, a beautiful getaway from the hurly burly of the city. It has a large lawn area that turns into the most pleasant shade of green in April, around his birthday. The colour so lovely that it gives him the urge to touch the grass, hug a tree, and nuzzle his face into nature. It is also the best place to people-watch—college lovebirds, laughing toddlers, family picnics—it is like being in one of Georges Seurat’s paintings.

It seems that many people think the same way as Sam. The park was busier than usual. The duo took their familiar route, following the gravel path to the fountain where the running tracks start. They would take a break on the bench where Rose can enjoy some treats.

Sam has done a good job socializing Rose due to the need for frequently traveling on the road. Rose is a curious girl and is open to making new friends, but she always listens to Sam. When other dogs pass by either barking over-excitedly or stopping to exchange friendly sniffs, Rose generally remains unfazed. She knows that remaining her composure and staying close to Sam is going to warrant some loving pets and yummy treats. Therefore, when a black and white Pit Bull trotted up to Rose, Sam didn’t pay too much attention. The dogs are all on leashes in this area. If any of them stop for a little longer, Sam will usually exchange a friendly smile with the owner, then each side will go about their own business. However, Rose seemed to be especially interested in this new friend. She stood up and started wagging her tail softly, gently bumping nose with her newfound friend, learning their smell and demeanour. That’s when Sam noticed that this dog looked a little special. Instead of the common collar, it was wearing a blue bandana with the word “adopt” printed on the corner. Sam followed the leash and looked all the way up. He saw a pretty girl looking down at the two dogs interacting with a mesmerizing smile.

Sensing his gaze, the girl quickly looked up.

“Oh hi, so sorry about this. Klaus is a shelter dog; he doesn’t get to interact with other dogs a lot, so he got a bit excited.” She said apologetically.

Ah, so that explains the bandana.

Now it seemed that Klaus took an interest in Sam as well. Considering his lack of socialization, Sam thinks Klaus is doing exceptionally well. He was sniffing Sam’s jeans, nudging his ankles with his nose.

“No, no, don’t worry. I don’t mind.” Sam bent down and extended the back of his hand to Klaus. After receiving a lick and some kisses as signs of approval, he started scratching Klaus behind the ears. “I’m Sam, and this is Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m y/n,” y/n said before crouching down. Rose immediately moved towards her and started pawing her hand.

One thing Sam loves the most about Rose is that she has good taste in people. Come on, this girl chose Sam to be her handler. (Sam has always believed that it is Rose who came to him, not the other way around.) And based on Rose’s reaction now, Sam would like to boldly assume that y/n is a decent person as well.

“Come on, Klaus, let’s go.” y/n gently tugged the leash, but she was completely ignored. The two dogs were already playing together, bowing and bouncing just like puppies.

“They can play for a bit,” Sam said. He loves seeing Rose Bud making friends. “If you are not in a rush, that is.”

“No, I’m not. Thank you so much,” y/n relented.

“So, Klaus is a shelter dog, you said?” Sam asked as he scooted over and let out more space on the bench for y/n to sit next to him.

“Yes, today is his Doggy Day Out,” y/n kindly explained. “People can sign up to take a shelter dog out for a ‘field trip’ for a day. It helps them manage kennel stress and increases their chances of getting adopted.”

The thoughtfulness of the idea makes Sam smile. He has heard about similar programs before, but this was his first time encountering an example in real life. “So you chose Klaus?”

“Yeah, Klaus is one of the longest residents at the shelter.” y/n cupped the dog’s adorable face in her hands and cooed. “I mean, look at his face, how could I say no? Besides, people often have a misunderstanding about Pit Bulls, you know, about them being aggressive and all; so it’s harder for them to get adopted.”

As absurd as it sounds, that is sadly the truth. Sam remembers seeing more than once those distasteful comments under Rose’s account.

“Indeed. Sometimes we truly don’t deserve dogs.” He said.

A comfortable silence draped over them, except it was quite loud in y/n’s mind and chest right now. Y/n had been stealing glances at the man next to her in between conversations the whole time and she hoped she wasn’t being too obvious. There was no denial that Sam is outright gorgeous. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt underneath an unbuttoned black plaid shirt, black pants, and a pair of Nike blazers. But what attracted her the most was his hair, the hair that suddenly made her self-conscious about her own (which really needed to get washed today). Sam has dark brown hair the length to his shoulder. The loose curls look lush and smooth, shining under the sunlight, which makes it a lighter flax colour. The strands that frizzes away are delicate and golden, swaying along with his breathing. Y/n bet they are silky and soft to the touch too. Plus, he has really pretty hands, with the pink leash wrapped around his palm contrasting against his olive skin. Slim, bony fingers, with nails that are clean, round and well-trimmed. Those are hands well-kept.

Maybe there is a grain of truth to what people say about first impression after all, Sam thought. A girl with Rose’s approval, a nice smile, and a sensible and tasteful take on Pit Bulls (She also looks cute). Sam thinks he quite liked her.

“So, what are your plans for the day? I mean, for Klaus?” Sam quickly corrected himself to sound less snoopy.

“We haven’t left the shelter for long. I was planning on getting him a pup cup first.”

“Pup cup! What a coincidence, that’s exactly what Rose bug and I have in mind,” (Liar. He didn’t). Sam put on his best smile. “Mind if we join you?”

Their conversation carried on smoothly as they made their way to the nearby bakery. Sam found out that y/n volunteers at the local shelter and works as a freelance photographer and a part-time dog walker. Y/n learned that Sam is a bassist and keyboard player who is in a band with his brothers (“That explains the pretty fingers,” Y/n thought to herself).

The bakery is a hidden gem in the neighbourhood, with a walk-up window inlaid into the white brick wall. A blackboard with cursive chalk writing was propped up beside it, displaying the menu. A separate hand-drawn poster on the wall sayid “puppuccino available for furry friends” in brush lettering.

“Do you want anything? My treat,” Sam asked as they approached the queue. “Please say yes so I have an excuse to ask for your number just in case you want to return the favour sometime.”

A bold move? Yes. But he felt like taking chances today.

Y/n raised her eyebrows in slight surprise. Sam held her gaze, silently restating his point.

“Fine, if you insist.”

“I do insist.” Sam stepped aside as it was their turn to order and let y/n go first. “After you.”

That’s smooth. Real Smooth. Y/n thought. Almost as smooth as his hair.

For the next few weeks, Sam and y/n has been talking on and off through text messages. Their chat history was mainly composed of Sam sending goofy dog videos and y/n replying with cute pictures she took of dogs at the shelter. Sometimes Sam spotted y/n holding multiple leashes, walking dogs on the sidewalk, and sometimes he went to the shelter under the excuse of dropping off donations just to see her. Occasionally, they would fix a date to meet at the park for a “puppy play date” when y/n took another dog on their Doggy Day Out. While the dogs rolled together or chased each other within their sight, they would sit on the bench with coffee cups in their hands and a box of cookies between them to share. Y/n found Sam to be a charming guy. She loves his brutal honesty and his humour with a witty tongue. He loves to hold her gaze while talking to her. At first, she hated it—the unrelenting stare from those captivating brown eyes makes her want to squirm in her seat—and Sam was never the first to break eye contact. But over time she had learnt to stare back nonchalantly, usually with a single raise of her eyebrow.

There was no lack of vocal banters as well, which usually embarks after one of them blurts out some controversial opinion. With some people, a debate over things like if pineapple belongs on pizza or should you pour milk before cereal can quickly lead to annoyances, but it’s different with Sam. Sam brings out the competitiveness in y/n just like she was back in her high school debate club. Backchat with Sam is fun; he makes one willing to takes all the steps—from gathering evidence to forming thesis statement—just to be rebutted by a single line of his ingenious comment; and y/n is not even mad about it. The cherry on top is that Sam always likes to push one step further by adding the flirtatious “What now, little mama, cat caught your tongue?”. She feels offended in the best possible way.

On the other hand, as composed as he seems to y/n, Sam feels that things always came out of his mouth without filters when he is with y/n. For example, he will never let go of that one time they argued about the right way to hang up toilet paper.

“It’s obviously under! Have you ever had times when you hang it over and it unrolls itself and you get this massive pile of toilet paper on the floor?”

“No, Sam, I have not. I’m pretty sure that’s because you got a bad roll or some mean spirit in your bathroom pulled it.”

“It’s a perfect roll, just out of the package!”

“Then it’s definitely some mean spirit. Burning some sage should fix it. Obviously, the correct way is over so that it doesn’t rub against the wall.”

“Bold of you to assume I have dirty walls!”

“How do I know? You probably do!”

“I will not stand any defamation to my name and my wall. You can only form such an opinion after you have checked it out!”

Y/n gave him an interesting look. Just before she could say something, Rose rushed back to their side, and for once, Sam was relieved that the debate withered away because as soon as those words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself.

Why would you say that, you freaking idiot? What kind of activities should you be engaging in that will lead to a situation involving you showing her the cleanness of your bathroom wall, which unfortunately is, in fact, kind of gross and stained with flashed pee?

But fate is a fickle little thing. Little does Sam know, it was not long before they did end up in that situation, just not in the way as he has expected.

Earlier that day, Sam has sent y/n a message asking if she wants to meet at the park the next day and received a brief message that reads, “Sorry, got caught up at the shelter”.

That is usually a bad sign because it means that there’s either a large intake or some kind of emergency. Y/n also ran a volunteer social media account, posting adorable pictures and short videos that she took of the dogs when she takes them out for a walk for temperament tests, adding visibility to help they find a loving home. Sam vaguely remembered y/n mentioning that they took in a puppy that was hit by a car. He secretly hoped it wasn’t any bad news. Sam debated between sending her a goofy dog meme with the caption “Take care” to lighten up the mood or asking further. He waited, but the three dots on the other side of the chat box never came up.

It was around nine in the evening when Sam received another text from y/n.

Y/n: Are you busy right now?

Sam: No, just chilling. What’s up?

Y/n: My car broke down.

The three dots are still blinking when Sam’s finger flew through the screen.

Sam: location?

Sam: I’ll be there.

Rose looked up confused from her spot on the couch, when Sam rushed to the foyer, one arm already in his jacket and stuffing his feet into shoes.

“Hold the fort, Rose bud!” He yelled before locking the door behind him.

Y/n’s car broke down not too far away from the shelter. Sam saw the tow truck and the roadside assistance as he drove near. Y/n was talking to the truck driver. From the distance, she looked so forlorn and lost under the jarring redness of warning lights. The size different between her and the heavyset man towering over her makes her looked like a puppy soaked in rain. Sam had never felt such a strong sense of protectiveness towards anyone. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and engulf her in a hug, if she would let him.

He almost drifted as he swerved his car into an empty parking space by the side of the road. He ran to y/n’s side.

“Okay, Miss. The insurance company will contact you for further details,” the roadside assistance worker nodded to y/n. “The truck will tow your car to the garage. Do you have a ride home?”

“Yes,” said Sam before y/n could answer.

The man gave him a knowing look before he said, “Good. Make sure you take all your valuable belongings in the car with you.”

Sam helped y/n put her stuff in the backseat of his car before opening the passenger side’s door for her. Sam had noticed that y/n’s body was stiff and tense the whole time when she was standing outside, and it remained so as she plopped down onto the seat.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Sam turned to her eagerly once he had situated himself.

As soon as the words left his lips, the dam broke loose. Y/n’s shoulder visibly relaxed as loud sobs ripped through her body. She tried to purse her lips and contain herself but tragically failed. For a minute, she couldn’t make a single syllable other than frantically shaking her head and shoving her hands to her mouth, trying to muffle her crying. Y/n’s whimper filled the car, mixed with the loud beeping alert and yelling outside as the truck towed y/n’s car away.

“Oh, y/n,” Sam felt like someone had stamped on his heart. “Can I give you a h—”

Without a word, y/n almost knocked herself into his arms. It was only when he was holding her that he realized how badly she was trembling. This is their first proper hug, far from how Sam has imagined it. He wrapped his arms around y/n’s frame, one hand hugging her shoulders to him and the other rubbing her hand in wide, gentle stripes, tucking her head under his chin. Y/n’s hand held onto Sam’s arm, fingers digging into his biceps like a drowning person holding onto a piece of driftwood. Sam was firstly relived that y/n was not physically hurt; and then there were the emotions, which they could deal with. Whatever made her this devastated, he was determined to turn it around and make it better.

They stayed like that for a while, bodies squishing together uncomfortably over the middle console, until Y/n finally started to calm down.

She pulled away from Sam’s hug. Sam immediately reached to the backseat for the tissue box, from which y/n took a handful of tissues and turned her head to the side to wipe her face.

“It…it was Huxley,” she was fighting to speak without breaking down again. “He’s g—gone.”

Upon hearing the name, Sam’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. His former wish had fallen through after all. Huxley was the puppy that came to the shelter from a car accident. He was sent in by a Good Samaritan on Monday. From the photo y/n posted, Sam knew that he was a young Australian cattle dog. Sam thought he was out of danger as y/n updated the post on Tuesday, saying that there was a rescue willing to pull him.

Sam didn’t press on with further questions. He sat patiently, handing y/n more tissues as she needed and waited to piece together the story from snatches of her speech.

“They did an x-ray and found he has a fractured pelvis. A rescue tagged him…and he was supposed to l-leave the shelter today.”

“We thought he was f-fine until…until he suddenly deteriorated this a-afternoon. There was, um, internal bleeding and… the vet said, the in-injury was too serious to recover and, and s-suggested…”

It was taking all her strength for y/n to squeeze out the last few words: “…it…it was the kindest to..put him d-down.”

Y/n buried her face into her hands as she resorted to another burst of weeping. Her shoulders shuddered with every muffled sob. “He reminded me of Wendy…I couldn’t save n-neither of them!”

This was the first time Sam has heard about Wendy from y/n. He guessed that Windy used to belong to y/n. He had once saw a photo of y/n and a white puppy tucked in her wallet when she was paying for coffee. Y/n never talked about it and Sam never asked. He decided he was still going to be silent about it today. He wouldn’t want to force her to narrate whatever tragic event that had happened in the past again, knowing that she probably had already done it to herself over and over again in her brain upon seeing the loss of Huxley.

Sam mulled over his words. Platitudes like “you have already done your best” sounded superfluous. Y/n, and he believes that everyone at the shelter, did everything they could; but that doesn’t fix things, does it?

“Was he loved when he was gone?” Sam gently took y/n’s hand in his.

“I was too coward to stay until the last moment,” y/n looked at Sam through teary eyes, “and he couldn’t really stomach any food by then. But yes, we made sure he was surrounded by treats and toys.”

“Then that’s what matters,” Sam managed a smile and said softly. “Dogs are very grateful creatures, you know that. Now that Huxley has crossed the rainbow bridge, he must be thanking you for loving him to the end, to provide him with a warm bed so he didn’t have to go alone and scared on the side of some highway.”

Y/n’s was still hiding her face in her palms, with her elbows resting on her knees, but Sam recognized a trembling nod from her. Now he felt tears stinging in his own eyes. He rubbed the area between y/n’s shoulder blades and carefully opened his mouth: “Look, y/n. I don’t want to sound like I’m taking advantage of the situation. But I am really worried about leaving you alone for the night like this. Would you like to perhaps crash at my place for the night? Rosie can keep you company.”

“Let me take care of you.” Sam closed his eyes for a second before he added, “As a friend?”

To his relief, y/n nodded again before turning her head slightly to face him, revealing half of her face, all wrinkled with red marks and tear stains, her eyes bloodshot and glassy.

“Sorry for being a bother.” She whispered through quivering lips.

“Never. Never a bother, mama,” Sam’s heart clenched again, hard. He reached out and gently squeezed the back of y/n’s neck before starting the car. “I got you.”

Y/n could hear Rosie’s claws clacking on the wooden floor before Sam turned the key in the lock. As he opened the door, they are welcomed by an excited Rosie, just as expected. Sam had taught Rosie well not to bolt towards guests or jump on them, so she was expressing her joy through a wagging tail that put her whole body into motion and repeated bowing; her pink tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. The goofy gestures raised a chuckle out of y/n. The first smile that he had seen on her face all night.

Sam’s apartment is cozy and vibrant. It has rustic brick walls and exposed beams. A red oriental rug lies in the middle of the room in front of a light camel-coloured sofa. There are touches here and there where Sam lets his intrusive thoughts win—so a piece of decor that does not match the general style appears but ends up working nonetheless, such as the banana leaf wall paper that only covers one side of the wall. A long-neck floor lamp throws warm glow over half of the living room.

“Go sit, y/n. Make yourself at home. You want some tea?” Sam laid out a pair of slippers for her as he asked.

Y/n had half a heart to reject out of politeness but realized she was too tired to put on any facade, and it is unnecessary after all considering she had just bawled her eyes out before Sam. Her eyes were stinging from crying and her face must have looked like a mess now.

“Thank you. Can I borrow the bathroom, please?”

“Of course! It’s right there.” Sam pointed her the right door.

Closing the door behind her, y/n felt like her legs were about to gave out. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and closed her eyes, thoughts swarming in her mind. Now that the initial throbbing pain in her chest has subsided, she began interrogating herself. What was it that made her agree to stay here overnight? “Worry about leaving you alone”….You are used to being alone—heck, you have been for years. All the past experiences and rational judgements were reprimanding her in a motherly tone with a scowl, but her body was faithful to the ghostly touches and phantom breaths that he had left on her skin during their hug. She forgot when was the last time that she had received a hug that conveyed such empathy without blind assumption. She forgot when was the last time that she felt valid for her feeling sad and mourning. She forgot when was the last time that she was not forced to explain. Yet Sam came and reset the record for her.

Three gentle knocks on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?”

“I grabbed you a clean towel. I’m putting it on the handle, so just watch it when you open the door.” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Oh Sammy, Y/n thought to herself with a wry smile. The nickname naturally slips into her mind. This is not helping.

What it is about this man that makes you trust him enough to break down in front of him and then agree to stay at his place overnight? Was it because he was nice to dogs? Green flag. Nice hair and clean nails, perfect side profiled, chiseled like an Apollo statue? Green flag. Top tier banter and flirting? Beige flag (but has potential).

Her brain started hurting again. Her heart said fuck it, go wipe your face, drink tea, and pray that he’s not a patient serial killer three months in disguise who likes to collect dog memes. Y/n opened her eyes and the first thing she saw brought an untimely giggle out of her.

Toilet paper hanging from under? Red flag.

When y/n opened the bathroom door again, Sam was feeding Rose her dinner.

“There you are! Thought you fell in.” Sam looked up at her with a toothy grin.“Sorry,” he apologized for his joke before y/n even said anything. “I made you tea, I guess you haven’t eat yet? I can order takeout or whip something up real quick.”

“That’s very nice of you, Sam. But I really don’t think I can handle a meal right now. Tea will be just fine for me. Thank you.”

Y/n must have washed her face in the washroom. Now her face looked fresh, setting off her reddish nose which she rubbed a little too harshly. The bags under her swollen eyes made her looks droopy, much different from the energetic y/n under the sun in the park. She looked very….huggable.

Y/n took a sip from the mug Sam handed her. It’s lavender tea. She felt her nerves slowly stretched as the warm liquid slid into her stomach. Having finished her dinner, Rose wasted no time joining them on the sofa. She found the perfect spot between Sam and y/n, laying her head on her folded paws.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Um-hmm,” y/n absent-mindedly hummed. “You take the pick.”

Absolutely nothing furry, nothing barking, nothing wagging its tail. Sam scrolled through the catalogue.

Y/n raised her eyebrows when she saw Sam finally settling on Vanderpump Rules.

“Surprised?”

“Surprised, amused, guilty as charged.” Y/n admitted.

“No way! Which season are you on?”

“Seven? I can’t remember much though.”

Sam couldn’t deny it, there’s just something about watching and becoming invested in other people’s cheating drama that gets you to forget about your own problems real fast, at least temporarily. When one of the girls made an especially spiteful comment and Sam got no reaction from y/n, he turned and saw her dozing off, her chin rested on her clavicle, one hand still resting on Rose’s back.

She’s bound to get a stiff neck sleeping that way. Sam gently pulled her shoulder to the side, resting her head on a cushion, and pulled the blanket over her. Other than making a few indistinguishable murmur, she didn’t stir; or if she did, she chose to relent to Sam’s touch. Now that her eyes were closed, she looked peaceful under the orange light of the lamp, one almost couldn’t tell she was crying so hard a few hours ago. Sam debated if he should carry her to the bedroom or at least wake her up, but in the end, he did neither. Instead, he sat down on the carpet, his side pressed against the sofa, putting his head on his elbow.

Whatever this is, it fels tranquil and nice. She is close and far, her silence remote and candid, still as a star*. It feels like love. He feels his heart heavy with love. She doesn’t know. Maybe she will, eventually. But not now. Now he just wants to have this moment, in case it is all he will ever have.

Y/n is woken up by the wetness of her face. “Rose, stop!” She managed to open her eyes under Rose’s kiss attack. She propped herself up on her elbow and saw Sam sitting on the floor next to her, still asleep. But that changed quickly as he became Rose’s next target. Did he just sleep all night like this? The light seeping through the curtains formed bright patters on the floor. Gosh, she must be really tired to sleep so soundly on the sofa.

“Morning.” Y/n pursed her lips, containing a chuckle as she met gaze with a hair-disheveled Sam, who was holding the side of his neck, grimacing.

Sam felt every single bone in his body crackling as he stood up. Actions have consequences.

The drive back to Y/n’s house was quiet. Y/n thanked him for letting her stay overnight, which he insisted that was no big deal. Then he cranked up the radio and let Stephen Stills take over.

“Thank—-”

“I swear, if you thank me again—-”

They almost said together as the car pulled up to a halt in front of y/n’s apartment.

Y/n smiled apologetically nonetheless.

“Hey, like I said, it’s really no big deal. It wasn’t so courteous of me not to offer you dinner and let you sleep on the couch anyway,” Sam said. “I am very sorry about what has happened. I hope you are feeling better now.”

Y/n chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. It was after several heartbeats that she said, “You know, your bathroom walls are dirty, Kiszka.”

Sam blinked and then barked out a laugh, throwing his hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged.”

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” Sam watched as y/n unbuckled the seatbelt. He could tell that for a second, y/n was going to thank him again.

“I’m not guilt tripping you into this, but…the offer to co-dog walk always stands.”

“Sure. I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Y/n paused as she shut the door.

“Hug Rosie extra tight for me.” With that, she turned on her heels and walked away.

It was three days later that they met again at the park. The weather was starting to get cold. Sam would always choose the vivifying spring days over fall, but he also appreciates some delicious crunching of the leaves as one walks.

“I can really tell the season is changing when the benches feel a bit cold under the tush.” Sam commented as he sat down next to y/n.

“Oh, do we have to get you padded pants then?”

“Seriously, do they make those?” Sam gasped in feigned surprise. “Anyways, how’s your car?”

“I got a call yesterday, it should be ready to pick up by Thursday,” Y/n said. She was chewing on the edge of her coffee cup. “I feel so stupid losing it like that the other day.”

“But you don’t have to, though. There’s nothing wrong about feeling things, and emotions don’t lie.”

“Yeah, I guess. But in the end it’s not about me, it’s about them. There’s always more dogs that need help and always more to do.”

“I know you said not to, but I really need to,” y/n said as she turned to Sam and threw her arms around him, catching him in surprise. “Thank you, Sammy.”

Sam couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt to have her nose buried in his shoulder. Talking about emotions don’t lie.

His hair smells nice too. And it is indeed so, so soft. Green flag.

Somehow, they fell back into the old rhythm after that. Sam guessed that when people say woman in a dream, they must be referring to their phantasmagoric nature. With each day passing, he became more and more inclined to believe that what he thought he had was nothing more than wishful thinking and self-deception.

Christmas was approaching. Their brother’s lack of contribution to the holiday preparation did not go unnoticed by the twins. Jake was first to approach Sam, saving Josh as the last resort. Although Jake doubted if they would really need him.

“Sammy boy, what are you sulking about?” Jake sat down next to Sam, who was lying facedown on the carpet.

“M’not sulking,” Sam mumbled. “You just interrupted my perfect nap.”

“No shit, wonder if you can even breathe lying like that.” Jake nudged him in the ribs, earning himself a smack on the arm.

“Have you asked her out yet?”

“Who?”

“Quit playing with me, brother. You’ve been spending enough time at the shelter and the park that we thought Rosie was going to the big sis this time.”

Sam flipped over with a groan, his hand laying across his forehead. “No. I think she probably doesn’t feel that way, honestly.”

“Okay,” Jake rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But how do you feel? Really smitten?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “You know the trend that goes, ‘one minute you are asking for her number, the next minute you are getting screamed at by her cat’? When I asked for her number, I was hoping so bad that we will be making advent calendar for our dogs every year.”

“Damn.” For a moment, Jake was struck by the weight of that statement; its authenticity and spontaneity echoed in the air.

“You really got some of Josh’s romantic shit, huh?”

“Don’t act like you haven’,.” Sam rolled his eyes. Jake couldn’t argue with that.

“Look, I knew you will tell her eventually. Come on, don’t give me that look. We both know that you will. But this is not like some assignment where you can just keep putting off until all the points have been abducted.”

“You have my permission to take the day off. But you better be making it up to me once you’ve got her. Do you have any idea how painful it is to untangle four strands of those lights? My fingers deserve better than that.”

Sam shot his elder brother a plaintive look. Jake raised his eyebrows provocatively, but the genuine encouragement still shone through.

“Just get your ass up already, kid.”

Sam was going to see y/n that day anyway. The shelter was doing Christmas dinner for the animals and y/n had texted him earlier asking if he wanted to come help. The shelter around Christmas looked like a kindergarten. Garlands and ribbons hung from the ceiling. Cheerful Christmas carols played through the announcement speakers. Even the bulletin board were updated with the animals’ intake pictures with their new Christmas photoshoots.

“Y/n is at the big dog kennel in the back.”

The round-faced woman at the front desk warmly greeted Sam as she recognized him. He had been a regular; the staff had naturally associated him with y/n and had been secretly calling him the sexy Tarzan*. (Y/n burst out laughing when she first heard that nickname; she couldn’t deny the resemblance is uncanny.)

Sam wasn’t sure how he was going to do this. Yes, he was going to wing it but it’s not like he could just blurt it out. The place started to smell like food as Sam passed the reception area. He found y/n and her colleagues standing in the meet-and-greet area around a table full of buckets and a crock pot with the largest turkey he had ever seen. Y/n waved him in as she saw him.

“Thanks for coming! We’re about to start.” Y/n handed him an apron.

“There are separate bucket for veggies, meat, and broth. You just grab some from each into the bowl and pass it down, Sally and Theo will squeeze in the yogurt and puree, add the dry treats…and a bowl is done!” Y/n walked him around the table as they went through each step.

“This feels like I’m at a poke station.” Sam chuckled.

“It is, special Christmas edition.”

Suddenly, Sam felt more at ease. He was grateful that y/n volunteers at the shelter. It’s at least comforting to think that he would have nearly a hundred flurry friends as his wingman.

They walked down the corridor, stopping at each kennel, opening the door and sliding in the bowl. Some dogs were more timid and nervous, huddling in the corner and coming up to the food when they were left alone. Y/n made sure to skip those ones a few more beef jerky. But most of them were already wagging their tails like windshield wipers in heavy rain, waiting impatiently at the front of their kennel.

It took them nearly an hour going through the whole the dog area before the empty cart was wheeled back to the preparation room.

“They have special food for the smaller animals like the rabbits as well. But, by far, our job here is completed. Well done, soldier!” Y/n untied her apron and threw in onto the table.

“Are you doing anything after?” Y/n asked.

“No, not really. Why?” Upon hearing that question, hope and anxiety bubbled together in Sam’s stomach.

“I could treat you to a coffee for helping out today, or perhaps hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate sounds great.”

“Awesome, you’re in for a treat. I know a place that makes bomb hot cocoa.”

It was snowing heavily when they stepped out. The ground is already covered in a thin white layer. The snow was coming down thick and fast, Sam could hear it falling onto the crisp fabric of his jacket. They walked along the side road. The sky was already dark, making the snowflakes dancing under the streetlights all the more obvious. The cars passing by, their tires rolling over the splashing snow, made sounds like someone stirring the repeatedly pushing the buttons of a a fountain drink machine. As nice as it was, Sam soon realized his mistake of forgetting to wear gloves when he headed out. It was strange how he seldom felt cold amid the big snowfalls, it’s always the coldest the day before. It was always the build up.

“So….do you have any plans for Christmas?”

“Oh, yeah I do. I am going to this awesome party. I'm going to dance, have fun, raid the charcuterie board, get shit-face drunk, and then crawl back home. Giving the weather we are having now, I’m probably going to slip and fall, break my face on the sidewalk, and lay there unconsciously until some hobo finds me and steals my purse, but all he is going to find are handfuls of puke that I threw up earlier,” y/n finished with a mischievous smile. “How does that sound?”

Sam was speechless for a few seconds. “I’m only with you on the ‘raiding the charcuterie board’ part.” He finally said.

“Always appreciate a good humour, Kiszka.”Y/n threw back her head and laughed. “I’m messing with you. Quite the opposite, I’m doing nothing. Probably still going to drink, but definitely no party.” She made a stank face.

Y/n has mentioned that she had just moved here not long ago. Sam never heard her mentioning much about her family, and he did not want to blindly assume.

“Do you want to come to mine for Christmas?”

“Crashing your family gathering as a stranger? That doesn’t sound like a very courteous thing to do.” Y/n replied.

Sam tried to focus his sight on the tip of his shoes. Just say it already. He was suddenly afraid to look to y/n. It feels better just to hear the rejection, not to face it head on, right? And could they still have hot chocolate after this? He could really use one now.

“Well, wouldn’t be weird if you were going as my girlfriend,” he finally said.

It was taking everything in Sam to hold his gaze on y/n. He saw her head shot right up. Beneath the initial shock, Sam couldn’t quite figure out the emotion hiding in her eyes. It’s always the build up. Always the build up. But now that the cat is out of the bag, he might as well just spill it out.

“I think I really like you, y/n.”

A smile crept up onto the corner of y/n’s mouth, and Sam saw it grew to a grin.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“Hum?” That was not what he was expecting. But he appreciated a question, any question, to redirect the attention from the….previous embarrassment.

“Did you forget your gloves?” It was only then that Sam realized that he has subconsciously managed to snake his hands into the opposite sleeves of his jacket and fold his arms in front of his chest in order to warm up his hands.

“Yes, and my fingers are freezing off,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I am dying of suspense and embarrassment.”

Unexpectedly, y/n sighed and took off one of her own gloves. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed,” she said as she pried Sam’s right hand out of his sleeve and delicately stuck his stiff fingers into the glove, as if caring for newborn ducklings.

“It feels kind of good to see even Mr. ‘beat-me-in-every-banter’ at a loss for witty comments when it comes to feelings. Just proves we’re all human, doesn’t it?” She then took Sam’s other hand into her own and placed them into the pocket of her coat.

“There. See how much better it is if we simply express ourselves?”

Sam could feel y/n’s thumb brushing his numb muscles. “I may not be the best person to lecture you on this because, well, I myself have done a pretty lousy job at it too. But, I can try to improve, as your girlfriend.”

“Can you give me the chance to try?”

Oh god, now she’s asking me.

“My honour, y/n,” Sam felt like he could breathe again. And his quick wit returned. “One thing is not true though.”

“What?” Y/n asked as they continued to walk.

“I didn’t beat you to every banter. I lost in the toilet paper one.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“I guess you were right. I called a truce with my bathroom ghost the other day.”

A man who is not afraid to confess his feelings and admit when he is wrong? Green flag.

Easter Egg

Y/n did end up attending the Kiszka’s Christmas gathering as Sam’s girlfriend. Jake was smug about it the whole time (“Told you we don’t need Josh”.) He determined that Sam owed him big time and demanded that he repays him by taking down the Christmas tree and and moving it up to the attic after the holidays are over.

Of all, Rose was more than thrilled to have her over because y/n came bearing special gift for her.

“I brought dog beer.” Y/n said proudly.

“You brought what?”

“Dog beer!” y/n laughed, showing the package of four cans. “It’s just unsalted bone broth with oat and barley.”

“Shame on you for leading Rose bug down this dangerous path!” Sam pretended to be annoyed but was already reaching for Rose’s water bowl.

“Come on, Rose’s a good girl, she can handle it. Plus, she is under parental supervision.” y/n said as she popped open a can.

“Oh, is that what we are now, ‘mummy’? Dog parents?” Sam looked smug.

As Rose happily lapped up her new beverage, y/n affectionately patted her on the neck: “And you always remember, Rosie girl, beers over boys. Well, I guess your daddy can make an exception but… ‘a healthy amount of beer over any contact with boys*’”.

*1: adapted from I Like For You To Be Still by Pablo Neruda

*2: it is from here (once you see it, you can't unsee it lol

*3: a quote from one of my favourite Youtuber: Christines Snaps

Hey, you've made it!! thank you so much for reading!

here's something more I want to say.

Firstly, the two dogs mentioned are real dogs; sadly they have both crossed the rainbow bridge now. You can read more about them here: Klaus and Huxley. I changed Klaus' story here because I'd like to imagine that having pup cups, going on walks, and having fun with other dogs is the life that he should have been having before his life was unfairly taken away. And I want to honour Huxley. The inspiration for this piece came to me because I relay information for shelter dogs that are listed to be euthanized in high kill shelters. It is absolutely heartbreaking to see how many healthy dogs lose their life at no fault of their own. I have always believed in the power of writing; I myself have been healed by the writings of others in this community many times, and I would like to do something with my writing too. I hope to raise awareness through this piece: There are just too many homeless pups. Please spay and neuter- their lives depend on it; and if you ever want a pet, please always go to the local shelter and check out their euth-list. Saving one dog is not going to change the world, but for that dog, the world is changed forever.

Secondly, about the writing; this is my first time writing Sam and my longest piece. As many of you surely must have noticed there are some loose ends, I apologize. I was emotional while writing this and I dragged it out. Plus, I made the mistake of reading one of the most amazing fanfics ever while writing this. I became self-conscious and kind of defeated---emotions get in the way, so I think this is leaning more towards a cathartic experience. For those that have experienced the pet loss, I am sorry and I feel for you. Please know that they can always feel your love and you will meet one day at the rainbow bridge. I intend to dig into this piece further in the future: perhaps make some more changes and edits, perhaps writing some blurbs between this y/n and Sam. If you would like that, please let me know.

Lastly, sincerely thank you to @dannythedog for the gvf secret santa event. It may sound stupid but that event carried me through my finals and several mental breakdowns. It has not only helped me to connect with so many wonderful people in this fandom, but it has also encouraged me to write. I never would have thought picking up writing again would give me so much closure and comfort. Plus, she did an awesome pairing; I got one of my favourite writers here as my secret santa!! and I got to know Nina.

This is so much longer than I intended. If you have made it here, wow, I am giving you a big big hug. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my writings. I hope that there are many more to come.

More of my writings: Mariner's Complex || Permission to Fall || Ticked (all my boxes) || The Lucky Ones

(do we want a masterlist or a taglist? let me know :))

#greta van fleet fan fiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fluff #gvf fluff #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #sam kiszka fic #gvf #sammy gvf

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obetrolncocktails · 2 years ago

Note

I’d eat the soap out of his mouth 👄

SLURP

#my asks #dannythedog #josh gvf #ugh this man #could literally tell me to jump off of a cliff #and I would

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readyforthegarden · 1 year ago

Note

Hi kait! Please take this gift of Sammy!! Have a good day 💕

i love sammy and i love you 💖💖💖💖💖

#my asks #brooklyn💖#admin-dannythedog

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capturethechaos · 2 years ago

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Josh Kiszka x Reader

Words - 573

Warnings - none, it’s just fluffy af ♡

a/n - there was a thunderstorm last night, and I had this thought that I just had to jot down before I went to sleep, so enjoy this 1 am thunderstorm blurb ♡

There was something irresistibly calming about sitting in the dark at two in the morning, surrounded by nothing but darkness as you stared out the window at the rain falling in your backyard. You had woken up maybe ten minutes prior when the first crack of thunder rumbled over the house, rousing you from your slumber, and you quickly found yourself bundled up in a warm blanket, sitting on the couch watching and waiting for something to happen.

Since then you had heard a few loud crashes of thunder, and seen equally as many flashes of lightning as the storm raged on. From the quiet that settled in the house between rolls of thunder, you heard the soft, sleep filled voice of your boyfriend as he wandered into the living room. “Sweetheart, why are you awake?”

You turned to look at him, a smile forming on your lips as you took in the sight of him wrapped up in a blanket, running a hand over his face and attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“There’s a storm, Josh, could you not hear it?” Your question seemed to confuse him, and his gaze flickered from you to the heavy downpour happening just outside of the window.

He shook his head and wandered over to where you were sitting, slowly lowering himself into the spot next to you and melting into you. You giggled, freeing one of your hands from the blanket around you to run gently through his unruly curls. “What woke you up then? If not the thunder and lightning.”

He shuffled in closer to you sneaking one of his hands out from beneath his own blanket and under yours. “I turned over and you weren’t there. I waited a few minutes to see if maybe you were just in the bathroom or getting water, but when you didn’t come back I decided to go looking for you.”

A muted hum rumbled from your throat, and a flash of lightning caught the attention of both you and Josh. “Well you found me.”

He smiled, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple. “I should’ve known when I heard the rain that you’d be down here, waiting for the storm.”

His hand wrapped around your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze and the thunder finally followed the lightning. “How about we go back upstairs. I can open the window then we can get cozy in bed and watch the storm together hm?”

You nodded in agreement, waiting for him to detach himself from you before the two of you made your way back upstairs to your bedroom. You watched Josh open the curtains as you crawled back into bed, appreciating the way his frame lit up as another crack of lightning flashes across the gloomy night sky. He was quick to join you, cuddling up against you and letting out a content sigh.

As his hands wrapped around you, finding your own and intertwining your fingers with his own, you spoke softly. “This better?”

He hummed, shuffling to make sure that he was as close to you as physically possible before responding. “Much better.”

It wasn’t long before the thunder and lightning settled, and you were left with only the sound of the rain outside, and Josh softly snoring behind you. You found yourself drifting once again into sleep, thankful for the wonder of nature, and the man you loved.

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, send me a dm, ask, or fill out my taglist form!

@amouratomique @godlygreta @castlebythesea @joshkiszkas @celestialfauna @streamsofstardust @fireandsaltydogs @vulture-withafile @lupinevanfleet @garagebandvanfleet @weightofdreams-gvf @somedayrikersomeday @chana-gvf @the-chaotic-cow @dannythedog @heatmyfleet @screechesincoherently @trafficwasabitch @fleetsonfire @xserenax-13 @doodle417 @gvfrry @agirlwithmanytastes @b3l1nda @gretavanfleas @brokenbellz @st4rdust-ch0rds @sarakay-gvf @angelbabyivy @irrevocably24 @basiccortez @s0livagant @grace-gvf @abbynotsonormal @ashabeannn @fetaransleet @gvfgroopie19 @the-weightof-dreams @kayleea122 @georgesstripedpants @carlybubs @ryegvf @obetrolncocktails @prophetofthedune @h-e-l-l-o-s

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka imagine #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet

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sammykiszkamyass · 2 years ago

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today is bestie day and i am so very grateful for my sammy nation besties i love getting to giggle over sammy with you guys every day🫶🏻

@ascendingtostardust @belovedsamuel @dannythedog @gretasmokerising @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @sammysprincess @sunfl0wer-power

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year ago

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catch-22 teaser, anyone? 😘

tags:

@itsafullmoon @freefallthoughts @lightsofthe-living-gvf @heckingfrick @sagekiszka @clairesjointshurt @thetroublegetssoloud71 @torniturntomyarrow @dannythedog @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @peaceloveunitygvf

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abeautylives · 1 year ago

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Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

a teeny tiny sneak preview

pairing: it’s a surprise… or is it?

word count: total 20.4k (you are so welcome) split into 3 parts

warnings: each part will come with its own warnings, eventual smut

Not just another night in the Kiszkas’ garage - 2014

Risking a sideways glance at Sam, I found him eyeballing Josh’s hand that was still resting lightly over my shoulder. I gave him my best “holy shit holy shit holy shit” expression, to which he rolled his eyes and shrugged. Before turning my attention back to the love of my life, my gaze drifted past Sam and landed on Jake. Oh, he was still here? Hadn’t noticed.

Except I was noticing. And he didn’t look pleased. He locked in and held eye contact, absolutely scowling. He was pissed. At me?! I must not have hidden my surprise well, because after a few more tense seconds of the longest eye contact we’d ever held, he blinked away and flung the guitar he’d been cradling all night over the arm of the chair.

Look, he didn’t throw it or anything. The stand was right there and the guitar landed safely, if not a little roughly, in its place. But then he tossed the open bag of Lay’s to the table, swung his legs around and stood. He caught my eye again, his hair doing that flippy thing over his eyebrows as he shook his head.

“Whatever. Night, guys.”

Just like that, he was gone. Two down, one to go. GTFO Sam!!

Taglist: @lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie @sweetybre @gretasgoose @gvfjess @josh-iamyour-mama @literal-dead-leaf @lyndz2names

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiskza #josh gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction

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losfacedevil · 1 year ago

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All My Love // Pt 1

a/n ~ Meet Sam and Lovey, high school sweethearts who have to fight and find their way back to each other. This idea makes me nervous due to the subject matter but has to be one of my most self indulgent ideas in the way of the story line. I hope you all enjoy the roller coaster this is about to become. I have to give the biggest thank you to my absolute best Lovebug, @vanfleeter who always lets me bounce my insane ideas off of her and encourages me in the most wild child ways I love you! Also a huge thank you to @rhythm-of-space & @dannythedog for reading through this for me as outside eyes, you don’t know how much I appreciate it. 🎵Playlist🎵

WARNINGS: SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTER, ALCOHOL ABUSE, BAR FIGHTS, HOSPITALIZATION, REHAB, MISSING PERSONS - READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Also if I have missed ANY triggering matter PLEASE LET ME KNOW!! Thank you

The presence of another is most deeply missed when the whereabouts of the person is unknown. When their presence is misplaced amongst the chaos of a blip of time and they slip away, unbeknownst to that of their lover. Where their clouded mind has shifted from that of the protection and well being of another to that of their own. The presence of another is most deeply missed when they slip away into the night without even the softest mutters of a goodbye into the ear of their lover.

Sam had met Lovey in high school and had hit it off with her right from the beginning. Stumbling into her lunch table one afternoon was all it took for her piercing eyes to capture his and intrigue him to find out more of who she was. Though in the same grade, she was a year younger than he. Sam had taken her under his wing and learned to love the girl for who she was, through all of her flaws, and her wild child instincts. He found her endearing, some of her actions and the phrases that came out of her mouth sending him into giggling spirals and he didn’t fully grasp the extent of.

They say that high school sweethearts never make it past graduation, but they were determined to make it as they applied for the same colleges, proof reading each others essays as they submitted application after application. Their wide smiles and shared jittery giggles something the had come to truly love about each other.

But college it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for them as they both received multiple rejection letters. Lovey had found herself to be more defeated than Sam. Never letting on to the fact she would sit, silently crying, in their shared bathroom with the shower running. Or the late nights she sat in bed next to his peacefully sleeping form as she drowned her sorrows in whatever alcohol she could get her hands on without anyone noticing.

Sam though, had taken quick notice. One less wine cooler in the fridge, unexplained broken glass on the sidewalk and just the smallest amount of Jakes whiskey spilled about the bar cart top. He’d sigh quietly as he wiped up the small messes, taking note of the bottle caps she had thought were well hidden in the coffee grounds she disposed of last night.

He had pulled Jake aside, quietly assessing what was happening and making sure it wasn’t Jake making messes in a drunken stupor he didn’t know about. Jakes heart had shattered in his chest at the sight of his brother, his face falling slightly as he began to realize that Lovey might be facing inner demons no one knew about and using alcohol as a coping mechanism.

It wasn’t long before a locking alcohol cabinet replaced the cart Jake loved so much; knowing that if the alcohol remained accessible that she would drink herself into oblivion - or worse. Their worlds rocked the night she found out she no longer had access to her vice. The scream that ripped from her chest waking both boys from their sound slumber.

Sam made his way to the kitchen, the soft sounds of her sobs reaching his ears before he rounded the corner and found her slumped in front of the cabinet like a child who didn’t get their way. A sigh slipped past his lips as he closed the distance between them and he kneeled down to her level. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing soft kisses to her temples as he pushed himself to stand and pulled her up with him.

“It’s for your own good, Lovey, this stuff is gonna kill you.” He murmured against her hair, pressing another kiss to the crown of her head as he began to direct her towards their shared bedroom.

Her tears didn’t cease. She was angry with the world, with Sam and Jake, but she was most angry with herself. The way she was acting over not being able to drink was unlike her, not a way she would have normally reacted under the circumstances. Sam watched her from where he laid, her bottom lip tucked safely between her teeth as tears continued to flow down her cheeks - her sobs having finally ceased and her breathing more regulated.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll thank us in the long run.” Sam mumbled, reaching over to place a reassuring hand against her thigh. Lovey caved finally and with a deep sigh slid down to curl up in Sam’s arms.

Lovey behaved herself to an extent, never asking for a drop of alcohol when the boys were indulging or sneaking any when their backs were turned. But the urges and cravings never waned, almost painful pits forming in her stomach when the days would be hard and she’d need an outlet to turn to. The locked cabinet they had used as a solution to a problem bigger than they had imagined, only worked when she remained in the home.

Lovey would run off after work, shooting Sam text messages with stories of a work dinner or hanging out with coworkers; something she didn’t often do. Sam had given her the benefit of the doubt at first noting her appearance, the way she spoke and the scents that may have permeated off of her. But she began to slip in her ways, the sneaking around beginning to catch up with her as one drink turned to two, and three. Each outing resulting in her limit rising and shots of hard liquor being added to the rotation.

She stumbled home after a long night out, the world spinning on its axis and her stomach contents finding a new home in the rose bush next to the front porch as she fell inside the now opened front door. Sam’s eyes grew wide at the state of his girlfriend, almost fully passed out on the living room floor covered in her own vomit and smelling of a brewery.

Sam’s eyes had found Jakes, the expression on his face displaying both his distaste and disappointment as he bent at the waist and lifted his deadweight girlfriend off of the floor. Jake shook his head as he made his way over to where Sam stood and gently slipped his hands under Loveys arms, supporting her weight as Sam got a better grasp on her and tossed her over his shoulder.

Knowing she had broken their trust had eaten her alive. The disappointed looks and soft, frustrated sighs that would slip passed their lips every time the memory clicked in their head was enough to send her in a spiral. But she tried harder to be better. She began coming straight home after work, making her way past every bar she would frequent with short waves into the door at the bartenders.

The boys knew she had been trying harder, watching on as she picked up random hobbies, journaling, reading, drawing. But they knew she was still sneaking off to get her fix, one night a week coming home a little later than usual. She’d never let on, never tell them that she was popping into a bar on the other side of town where no one knew her, one where she’d never be found.

Sam wanted nothing more than for her to be better, for her to return to the Lovey he had fallen in love with. But he watched on as she slowly turned back into the childish girl who had cried over a locked cabinet. She began coming home more and more drunk, her vice finally getting its arms around her and dragging her under for the third time.

Lovey needed help

TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @ascendingtostardust @vanfleeter @belovedsamuel @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @tommie-gvf @the-wicked-gnome @stardustvanfleet @sinsofstardust @gracev0609 @runwayblues @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sunfl0wer-power @mackalah @twistedmelodies @dannys-dream @dannythedog

#sam kiskza #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fluff #sam Kiszka angst #sam Kiszka x oc #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction

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shimmerwindow · 10 months ago

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I Never Really

Part Twenty

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Alcohol use

Playlist | Masterlist

A/N: sorry to keep you all waiting :)

It felt like you’d time traveled back to the fall, back to the parties and the falling-in-love, as you got yourself ready for the show. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands shaky with nerves as you perfected every strand of hair in the mirror. Was your outfit cute enough? Did your makeup look nice enough? Would anyone think your necklaces were cute? Should you take these earrings off? Your mind ran a mile a minute, anxiety coursing through your veins as if you were about to go on a first date with the man of your dreams.

Sam would be knocking on your door any minute to take you over to the house. It’d been a beautiful day, the weather still nice enough to walk even as the sun dipped below the horizon. When the knock finally came, you could feel your blood pressure rising by the second. You opened the door, greeting Sam with a hug, your arms scraping against the sequined fabric of the jacket he wore. His chest was bare, his collarbone bearing a mark you’d left who-knows-how-long ago.

“You might wanna cover that up,” you said softly, trailing your fingers over it.

“Why? It’s kinda rock and roll, don’t you think?” He gave you a half-smile, before taking your hand and leading you out of the building.

The smell of summer was on the warm breeze that blew between the buildings. Music thumped loudly from every other house on the block, rings of lawn chairs and piles of cans decorating most yards. Despite the residual aches in your heart, and the anxiety that still gnawed at the back of your mind, things felt alright.

The two of you finally strolled up to the house, cars lining the street outside. The porch was adorned with the usual attention to detail you were used to seeing from the family. A wreath of plastic tulips hung on the door, and the hammock, which had been missing during the winter months, was swapped out for one that bore pastel hues and cream-colored ropes.

Inside, the house was warm with the heat of dozens of bodies. It was just as overwhelming this time as any, and you stuck close to Sam. The brothers were in deep conversation with a group, but they noticed you immediately, cutting off their sentences to greet you.

“You’re here!” Josh exclaimed, stepping around the crowd to pull you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming. It’s so nice to see you.” He trailed his arms down to your biceps, giving them a firm squeeze. “You look lovely, as always.”

You blushed a bit as his compliments, his words never failing to warm your heart. “Thank you. You look nice too.” He was dressed in the typical attire he’d wear for shows, tight shiny pants and some kind of eclectic top.

The time before the show passed quickly, almost too quickly, with Sam keeping a distance from you as he mingled with the crowd. You felt a bit lost without him by your side, sticking close to at least one of his brothers, trying desperately to contribute something to the conversations with strangers. When it was time, you followed the crowd out to the garage, sitting in the grass nearby and watching as the group set everything up, testing their instruments, tuning, checking that everything was right.

You stayed off to the side as the rest of the partygoers filed out from the house, drinks in their hands, smiles on their faces as they waited to hear the band play. It was a great show, every attendee grateful to hear them playing in a more raw, real format than their usual performances at bars. Every song had you captivated, and you even knew some of the words by this point.

In the middle of a song, one you hadn’t heard before, you were struck by something you hadn’t felt before. A realization, or perhaps an intuition. These four, what they were doing here, it was going to be big. Far bigger than what it was right now, jamming for free to an audience of a few dozen. You could almost see it, like a vision, them on a stage far bigger than this. Hundreds, thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, lining the stands and knowing every word. You couldn’t place it, couldn’t put words to it if you’d tried, but you just knew. They had something going here. Something very, very special.

Your eyes were fixed on Sam the entire time. The way he moved his body, the way his fingers moved, every expression he made, it was all entrancing to you. When he came bounding over to you after the show, glistening with sweat, it took every ounce of willpower in your body not to pounce on him like a feral animal.

“Did you like it?” He asked, a bit breathless. “The new song? I don’t think you’ve heard that one yet.”

“I loved it! It was so, like…different. I don’t know how to describe it.”

He talked at you for a while about it, getting into the technical details, and the things that inspired it. Though you only understood a solid half of what he was saying, you listened intently, hanging off of every word. You felt blessed to simply be in his presence, to be able to talk with him like this. It had been a while since the two of you had felt so normal.

A small part of you wanted to take Sam’s hand in yours and drag him back to his bedroom. But another part, the more sane part, wanted to stay right here. In all honesty, this was enough. Just being able to talk with him, under the dusky sky, both of your voices raised above the commotion around you, was like a piece of heaven. Eventually, the two of you wandered back inside, to the comfort of the living room and the brief silence while everyone else was outside.

“So, there’s something I want to tell you, but I swore I wouldn't tell anyone,” he said, his tone far too nonchalant, as he handed you a drink he’d just finished making for you in the kitchen. “Can you keep a secret?”

You gave him a quizzical look, your head cocked to the side. “A secret? Are you sure you should trust me with it?”

He nodded. “I feel like I have to tell you, or I’m gonna explode.”

“Alright. Lay it on me.”

“Well…” He suddenly looked very nervous, his fingers fidgeting with the condensation-soaked glass in his hands. “Nothing’s official yet. And I don’t really know the ins and outs of it all. But we’re pretty sure Jake’s going to land us a record deal. Soon.”

“That’s incredible news, Sammy! Congratulations!” You reached a hand out, resting it on his knee and inching a bit closer to him.

“Yeah. I don’t really know what the whole thing means, to be honest with you,” he said with a short laugh. “That’s not really my wheelhouse. That’s all Jake’s side of the ship. But if all goes well, we’re gonna go record some shit. An actual album, not just recorded in someone's basement.”

“Are you serious?” You ask with a wide grin, excitement welling up in your body. “I can finally force everyone to listen to you guys?”

“Yeah, I expect to hear our shit blasting from your headphones at every opportunity.”

“I can do one better. I’ll walk around campus with a stereo on my shoulder playing it.”

The two of you exchanged a laugh, and for just a moment, things felt entirely normal. But he spoke again.

“So, the plan is, after the album, and once summer break comes, we…want to tour. For a while. At least until next semester.”

“A tour?” Your stomach sank, your palms started to sweat, and you felt a bit dizzy. You slumped back down against the couch, your mind racing. In the back of your mind, you always knew this was a possibility. You'd feared it a bit, prayed this day would never come, when you'd be left behind while the closest friends you'd ever known went gallivanting across the country.

“Yes. I…we’ll be gone for a few months, at least. Jake is already making lists of venues he wants to play. We’ll just barely be making a profit, but we have to get our name out there. Nobody knows us outside of this dumb little college town.”

The question hung in the back of your throat, unsaid yet screamed in your mind so loud you could scarcely hear anything else. When it finally came out of your mouth, it was weak, defeated. “Can I come?”

Sam’s smile faded, his expression stony and unreadable. “I don’t know.” It seemed like there were a thousand implications behind those three words. A million more words behind them that couldn’t be said out loud, but passed between the two of you like some kind of mental tennis match.

You knew better than to push it any further, so you left it alone. Took his answer at face value for now, to be addressed at a later time. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to come with, but with the way things were, it surely wasn’t a good idea. The two of you shouldn’t even be talking like this at all. It was like you’d completely forgotten about your promises to forget each other, forgot about your willingness to be alone and heal. The pull to be in the same place at the same time, in whatever form that took, was too strong.

The silence between the two of you was heavy and long, and you were certain you would have stayed that way forever if Danny hadn’t come crashing through the door soon after. He looked between the two of you, a smile on his face and a drink in his hand.

He gestured between you and Sam, his every movement conveying just how wasted he was already, somehow. “Hey. You two friends again, or what?”

You and Sam stumbled over each others' words, rushing out hurried and half-sensical explanations. Danny only stared with wide eyes as you both tried to explain, told him to leave, told him to stay, argued and agreed all at once, your voices tangling into a loud mess of chaos and hand gestures.

“Jesus. Sorry I asked,” Danny said, backing his way slowly out of the house, his hands raised in defense.

When he was gone, and silence fell on the room again, you heard a sound. The sound of muffled, stifled laughter. Your eyes landed on Sam, his hand thrown across his mouth, his eyes squinted as he held back a laugh.

“I think we scared him,” you said, the hint of barely-suppressed giggles tainting every word.

The two of you burst into laughs, the kind where you were both grabbing each other for support, doubled over, one hand on your stomach.

“Did you see his face? God, we need to go say sorry or something!” Sam said, gasping for air between every word.

It wasn’t all that funny, but that only seemed to make it even more funny in your head. That, and the absurdity of the whole situation. You felt like you hadn’t been able to feel joy in weeks now. This was like a blessing, a glimpse of heaven, a vision into what could be and what will never be.

“So are we friends again?” You asked, wiping a tear from your eye as the last of the giggles died down.

“Good question. I guess…I want to say that’s up to you, but…” he trailed off, unsure of what exactly he was trying to say.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I am. I'm very happy. But I worry.” The rest of his sentence went unsaid, but you knew him well enough to know exactly where his worries lied.

“Well, I should go,” you said quietly. “I should get home before it gets too late.”

You started to stand up from the couch, but his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with gentle, calloused fingers.

“Don’t. Stay.” There was a pleading edge to his words, and it pulled at every single string of your heart.

“Sam, we can’t. We can’t keep doing this,” you protested, though making no move to pull away. “It’s not good for us. We shouldn't even be talking.”

“I know, I know, it’s just…I have nobody else.”

“You have your family. Your friends. You have to let me go. You can’t keep pulling me back, not after what I did.”

“But, I…”

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the painful internal struggle he was facing. The two of you were caught in some kind of cycle. He needed you, he wanted you, he would die for you. You needed him all the same. But you’d hurt him, betrayed him, lied to him. And he’d made his own share of mistakes. You both kept saying you needed time, telling yourselves you had to get away from the other, but you could never run away. You’d always circle right back to each other. You would protest, say you shouldn’t, say it’s bad for you, but it was impossible to resist the temptation.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he said, releasing his grip on your wrist.

You sat back down, despite your better judgment. “I don’t know either.”

“God, you’re just so beautiful, it hurts to look at you sometimes.” He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s like torture, seeing all those feelings behind your eyes, knowing there’s nothing I can do to fix this easily.”

“Maybe we should stop trying to fix it.” You shifted a bit closer to him, and the scent of him was intoxicating. “Maybe we should actually stick to the plan. No contact.”

“You know we can’t do that.” His hand came to rest on your thigh, his touch electric.

“Then…what are we supposed to do?”

“Same thing we always do, I guess.”

The rest of the night was lost in a tipsy, pleasure-clouded haze as he whisked you up to his bedroom. Hours later, there you lay, naked with him, your body battered and sore in the best way. It was a classic tale at this point, the same one every week. It felt too good to stop it, you needed him too much, your resolve was too weak to tell yourself no. But it wasn’t hurting anything, was it?

When you fell asleep in his arms, you had to wonder if this was all that bad. Breaking your own rules couldn’t possibly be such a grave sin if it felt this good. Though you had to wonder if this was it, if it would get any better than this. The mental gymnastics, the constant emotional agony, was that really all you had in store? Although, if it would end like this every time, there were certainly worse ways to suffer.

* * *

You were gone, back in your dorms. Sam had driven you back early, demanding that you get some rest and relaxation with what was left of your weekend. He’d returned back to the house, under the guise of going back to help clean up, though his motives were far from that. He crept into the house quietly, waiting patiently to see who would be awake upon his return. On the couch, Jake sat, his feet up on the coffee table in the small space he’d carved out from the piles of cans and cups. A bloody mary was in his hand, half-drank, the garnishes all still uneaten.

The two eyed each other for what felt like hours, not speaking. Since the fight, they’d avoided each other a bit more. There had been disagreements like this in the past, sure, but nothing like this. This was uncharted territory, and neither brother knew how to navigate it. Sam knew he needed to talk to Jake. It was the entire reason he’d come back to the house today at all. But, god, was he dreading it.

Jake spoke first, his voice quiet and level. “Do you want to talk?”

Sam nodded, sitting down on the chair beside the couch. He was every emotion but relaxed in this moment. “We should.”

“Well, first off, sorry I decked you.”

“Sorry I started it.”

Jake cracked a half-smile, taking another sip from his drink. “Mom would be pissed if she knew we were still fighting like that.”

“Oh, come on. I can’t even remember the last time we did something like that.”

“I’m just glad Danny and Josh were there to break it up.”

“Yeah, we probably would have killed each other.” Sam laughed a bit, though it was an empty sound.

“Alright. Let me say my piece, then you can say yours. Deal?” Jake asked, taking one more sip of his drink and setting it down on the table.

“Go ahead. I won’t interrupt.”

“So, I’m sorry I did all that. I…genuinely didn’t realize at the time that you and her were so serious. And I’m not lying. I knew you guys were close, and I had my suspicions, but I hadn’t had any, uh, proof until that night.”

Sam had plenty he wanted to say in return, but kept his mouth shut, biting at the corners of his lip to keep himself quiet.

“I got a little possessive. Maybe…maybe even a little jealous. I should have just tried to clear things up before I got mad. She’s just such a catch, you know? But she doesn’t want me like she wants you. And I have to respect that.” Jake took a pause, breaking eye contact to stare down at his hands, rubbing his fingers against a callus. “I figured she was only using me to get to you. Or to make you mad. That pissed me off. But she’s a good girl, and I don’t think she was acting with deliberate malicious intent. She was sad and hurt, because she couldn't have you, and I just happened to be there to help kill the pain. That's not your fault.”

There was a long pause, and Sam realized it was his turn to speak. “But that was pain that I caused her. I should have never put her through all that. I just figured she didn’t like me.”

Jake sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You both fucked up. But it’s not like you were both out here with daggers in your cloaks taking every chance you got to backstab the other. It was poor communication, and what I assume to be bad flirting.”

“Yeah, heavy on the bad flirting part,” Sam smiled to himself. “I have no idea how you do it.”

“I’d teach you, if I thought you’d need to use it. But you’ve already got the girl of the century waiting on your doorstep for you.”

Sam paused, pondering Jake’s words. “Either way, I’m sorry I lashed out. But this seems to be a common thread. I find someone, you end up seducing them, and I lose them. I couldn’t handle the thought of it happening again, especially not with her. She’s different. So I got mad at both of you.”

“I understand that. And though I can put some of the blame on myself, most of it lies with her. She made her bed.” Jake’s tone was nonchalant, but it felt forced. He didn't like this either, as much of your fault as it may be.

“I know. But I can’t live without her, I’m sure you’re able to tell. As much as I wish we could both just forget the whole thing, it’s not possible. She’s…really special to me. I can’t even describe it.”

“I know. I can tell.”

“So I have to be able to fix this. There has to be some way. I’ve been agonizing over it for weeks now, and nothing seems good enough. No apologies or cute dates will ever put us back to the way we were before.”

Jake thinks for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “No, you can’t go back to the way you were before. But that doesn’t mean you can’t move forward. She never meant to hurt you. And even if she did, she regrets it, and it will never happen again.” He draws a breath, locking eyes with Sam, his gaze stern. “You don’t have to worry about me. I want the best for you, and for her. She deserves it.”

“I know, I agree with everything you’re saying. But I don’t know what to do.”

“The way I see it, you’ve got three options.” Jake held up three fingers, counting each one off as he spoke. “One, you’re going to cut her off and pretend she never existed. Move on with someone else, someone you don’t have history with. Leave her here while we’re on tour. Two, you’re going to continue this dumb little game you’re playing with her, and break both of your hearts in the process. Or three, you’re going to man the fuck up, talk it out, get over what happened, and ask her to date you.”

Sam mulled it over for a long time. Jake's words were harsh, but he was saying what needed to be said. There was, really, only one way out of this. “But what about the tour? If I ask her to date me, I’ll just have to leave her again in a month, anyway.

“Then bring her with us. If we take the deal, there would be room in the back for one extra person. Wouldn’t hurt us at all, and I’m certain Josh and Danny wouldn’t mind. And if they do, they can tell me, and I’ll tell them to fuck off.”

“And what if she says no?”

Jake shrugged. “Then at least you did everything you could.”

Sam was silent for a bit, thinking it over, weighing his options.

Jake spoke first, his words slow and calculated. “There’s one thing I know for certain. If she’s still willing to try, after all of this, after everything the two of you have gone through, you need to take that chance. She loves you. She seriously loves you. Don’t let this be the biggest regret of your life, Sammy.”

#greta van fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #inr #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x y/n #i never really

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