#idk i was listening to greta van fleet on the way to work so y'all get this corroded coffin crack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joshfuckingkiszka · 2 years

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stranger things have happened - [2] Rx

now, some of y'all might think there is something between you and sammy, but I PROMISE there is NOT, it’s apparently just how I see relationships between men and women, idk.

THIS SERIES IS 18+, MINORS DNI

chapter warnings: asshole!josh, mentions of past eating disorders, extremely dysfunctional family - overbearing mother, hangovers, sam being sam.

series masterlist

Admitting that you hadn’t realized that the four men standing before you were the band that you usually listened to on your way to class was difficult, to say the least. You had so many questions racing through your mind that you wanted to ask them, but the one that kept popping up was “Why is Josh looking at me like he doesn’t believe me?”

“You didn’t know that we were Greta Van Fleet?” His disbelief matched yours but they held different meanings behind them, and you knew that, you just weren’t sure what his was.

Shaking your head, you answered, “I mean, it’s a pretty recent addition to my library so I hadn’t really thought to look you guys up yet. Besides, I kinda liked the intrigue of not knowing I guess.”

He scoffed and you found yourself quickly becoming annoyed with the curly haired man. If he was this interrogative with every woman he met, it was no wonder he was single. In every little side-eye glare and scoff at the words you spoke for the rest of the night, it was abundantly clear what he truly thought of you, and it made you wonder why Kenzi and Jita had even thought to set you up with him in the first place. Josh was an egotistical asshole who couldn’t seem to believe that someone in the world didn’t know who he was. Everyone else worked hard to keep spirits up, though, as you danced with Sammy to a pop song he claimed he hated, but you would occasionally catch him mouthing along the words. You rolled your eyes at him, but smiled as he got you another drink.

“I know what you’re doing,” Josh stated confidently, once the two of you were sat at the table alone.

You met his mahogany eyes and challenged, “And what would that be?”

“I’ve seen it before, you claim you don’t know the band, so you can sleep with one of them.”

A scoff left your lips and you cocked your head to the side, a mock pout on your face, “Oh, I see, you’re just mad it may not be you.”

“He has a girlfriend.” Josh had lost the subtlety in his accusation.

You breathed out, “Luckily, I don’t wanna fuck him.” Again with the disbelief.

It hurt you, that someone so easy to look up to and adore thought so lowly of you, he truly thought of you as some conniving groupie. While the pain settled in the depths of your heart, you found it interesting that in one night you went from the boring girl who studied too much and worked too hard, to having an argument with the lead singer of a famous band. The feeling was exhilarating, come to think of it.

Eventually, your night was called to an end at about 12:30. While you were a little too drunk to think about the repercussions, you knew that class the next day was pretty much out of the question. Luckily, tomorrow was also your day off. When you insisted on walking home from the bar - your apartment was way too close to pay for an Uber - Sam insisted on chaperoning you, mostly to keep you safe on the mostly empty streets. You groaned but didn’t put up much more of a fight than that. It was comfortable with him, he was easy to talk to and you actually wouldn’t mind the company on your trek home.

“And you’re sure you know the way?” He had every right to be slightly concerned, as you looked around for landmarks to make sure you were going the right way.

You threw an arm around his much taller frame, “I walk this way every day, Sammy!” His hands went up in defense as he instructed you to lead the way.

“Okay but close your eyes, I don’t want you to know where I live, ‘cuz, y’know you’re a stranger and all.” Sam laughed at your drunken words, now especially glad that he was walking you back.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” You made him hold out his pinky in the age old way of commitment. He linked your fingers together, stifling his laughter.

You whispered to him, “I take those very seriously, so don’t break it.”

“And why is that?”

It was suddenly no longer a joke.

“Because, and don’t tell anyone this, my sister broke hers and now I hate her,” you thought about it, and after a moment decided, “well, I don’t hate her, I just hate the outcome. She swore that we would always have what we had, and then she went to college and became successful and now I’m just her dumb little sister following in her stupid big footprints. But her feet aren’t actually big, they’re normal. I guess it’s her, uh, legacy! Yeah, her legacy is too big for me. Everyone knows it, I do, she does, and my mother especially knows it. Hell, I think even Josh might know it!”

He was confused but ultimately didn’t look surprised. “Josh is, well, hard to get used to. I had to do it my whole life. Still do, actually.” You both laughed, drunken giggles falling from your lips and it was comfortable again. In the morning, you probably wouldn’t even remember letting the whole thing about your sister slip.

“Your brother thinks I’m a groupie,” You admitted to him.

Sam laughed a bit. “Well if it makes you feel any better, you don’t really look like one. Eh, maybe if it were the 60s, I might think you were trying to get with Lennon or something, though.”

You playfully challenged, “Hey! I could be a groupie, 60s or not!” Thinking about your next question for only a second, you finally asked, “Do you guys have a lot? Of groupies, I mean. Is that why he thinks that?”

“Girls do like to try the whole thing with us, but most of us don’t really pay attention to them.”

“Does he?” You weren’t sure why you cared so much, or why you were so willing to brazenly ask the man’s own brother about his sexual conquests.

The taller man sighed, “When we first started, yeah, a bit. Eventually, he kinda chilled out and the music became way too important to us for any of us to give up for a one night stand.”

“What changed?”

Sam shrugged, but you could tell he was holding something back, the key piece as to why Josh could possibly hate you so much without even knowing you. The questions would have continued, had you not realized that you were now standing in front of your apartment building.

You smiled at your new friend. “This is me. I’ll yell down from the balcony once I’m up,” you assured him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “You sure you don’t want me to walk you up?”

“I think I can manage,” you said, giggling a bit at his protection.

That’s exactly what you did, too. It took you a moment to finally get the key into the lock of the door, but once you did, you ran over to the glass doors of the small balcony and told him to text you once he got home. You weren’t sure when, but you had managed to receive everyone’s number, even Josh (Jake had given it to you when his twin wasn’t paying attention).

“For emergencies,” he had claimed, but a smirk rested on his lips as he said it, so you weren’t sure if that was the entire truth to the sentiment.

Once you had done the bare minimum for getting ready for bed, still smelling of alcohol and cigarettes from the bar, you laid down in bed and began to think of what this could possibly mean for you. It was only then that you decided to check your phone, seeing all the missed texts from your mother and you said a very quiet fuck into the dark abyss of your bedroom.

Just checking in, how’s school? - she did regular check-ins to see if you were anywhere near where your sister had been at your age, even though she claimed it was because she cared.

Sweetie? Are you busy? You never take this long to respond… - you decided not to tell her about your night out, it might start an all out war.

Answer the phone. Now. - There it was. Her ever controlling demeanor never took too long to appear when she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

I will come to Nashville myself if I have to, - she had finished that one with your full name, and you knew she was serious.

As much as you would have loved to set boundaries with your mother that you knew she would actually respect, it simply wasn’t possible with the woman. She would either get what she wanted out of you for the rest of her life - or yours if it killed you first - or you would eventually gain the courage to cut her out of the picture. The latter was extremely unlikely, though, she always knew how to sink her nails deeper into your throat, and keep you on her hook, needing her.

Sorry, mom. Had a closing shift and was exhausted when I came home. I fell asleep, sorry. - in the past, it actually made you feel guilty, doing the things you wanted, but now it was simply a means to keep her at bay.

She responded almost immediately - Call me in the morning.

You groaned and almost threw your phone at the ground. Even drunk you knew not to do that, though, so instead you just let the tears well in your eyes and cried until you finally fell asleep.

In your slumber, you missed the text from Sam - Just got home, goodnight!!

Your alarm was not what woke you up the next morning, but a call from your mother at 6 in the morning. She had always started her days at 4 am, and berated you when your sister followed suit. “You’re wasting daylight,” she would scold you, and you were genuinely surprised to find out that most middle schoolers don’t wake up that early.

“Honey,” she had started, and to anyone else it would’ve been sweet, but you knew the manipulation tactics so well, you rolled your eyes at the pet name, “What happened to class yesterday?”

When you explained your ill teacher and Tanya asking you to close, she called them both extremely unprofessional, not respecting your rigorous routine.

“So what did you do instead?” It was gaining intel to her, she wanted to know if you spent your non-busy day productively.

You told her about the coffee shop, and how you cleaned your apartment - to which she scolded you for it having ever been messy - and you threw in a line about studying for your missed class, which of course was a lie, one you hoped she couldn’t see through. That satisfied her enough, but when she checked the time, she asked if you were ready for your 8 am class that met on Fridays. You knew if you looked hard enough, you would probably find your entire schedule written down somewhere in that house, and you shut your eyes tightly as you looked for the right words to tell your lie.

“You actually caught me as I was getting ready, Mom. I’m about to walk to campus actually, so I’ll have to let you go soon.” There was no way in hell you were going to an early class this hungover.

“If you would just let us get you a car, you wouldn’t have to leave so early.”

You knew how hard you had it, not taking up her offer of paying for your apartment, college tuition, or even the car she promised you. You worked every day that you could, even considering taking up a second job just so you could have the extra money. Tanya paid you well, but with all of your living expenses, you had just barely managed to get by. You had scholarships to your name, so that took some of the load off but, God, being an adult was so fucking expensive. If the boys hadn’t paid for your drinks last night, you surely would have been broke today. But you knew how fucked you would be if you did let her do those things, she would never let you forget it, and that’s not even mentioning the obligations you would have to her.

“I wouldn’t have anywhere to park it,” you claimed, and it wasn’t really a lie, “besides, I like the walking, keeps me awake.” You joked lightly, but that was also partially true. The bitter Tennessee winter had kept you wide awake on your trips to campus, and you were almost positive that you had nearly gotten frostbite and would lose a toe.

“Well, I guess it’s good that I know you’re exercising. And you’re still going to the gym, yes?” This again. Your entire high school career was filled with trips to the gym with your mother at 5 in the morning and again at 6 in the evening. She berated you for eating too much, and scolded you when you got dizzy from not eating enough. It made you sick, thinking about your ideals from back then, and how you struggled even now to keep them from re-entering your mind.

“Yes, Mom.” You hadn’t been to the gym in weeks, your schedule too overfilled with work, classes, and being a TA at a 7 o’clock class in the evenings on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

“Okay, well, call me when you’re not busy.” She didn’t even bother to tell you she loved you. Maybe she just expected you to know, but you really didn’t. Did she end calls with your sister with the phrase? When was the last time she had told you? You couldn’t remember and your heart sunk. Did she love you? If she did, she had a very strange way of showing it.

Once the call ended, you did actually get out of bed, but rather than pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to go to class like you said you were, you sat on the floor in your living room, right in front of the balcony doors. It was light enough outside for you to see the storm clouds on the Nashville skyline. You sighed and pressed your face up against the cool glass of the door. With your pounding head, the cold felt nice. Your legs were crossed as you looked down to the street, noticing all the people filing out for their morning commutes.

Your eyes had only been closed for a minute - taking in the feeling of a chill nothingness - when you heard a commotion on the street. People walked past the man causing it, but when you heard your name, you stood up to look.

“Hey!” Sam called out your name once you slid open the door, “Let me up! I have breakfast!” You blushed at the scene he was causing, but you grabbed your keys and met him at the door anyway.

“What are you doing here?” You laughed and took a coffee that he offered you.

He smiled, “I know you probably aren’t as used to all the drinking as we are, so I figured you were feeling pretty shitty - I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you what I order.” The weight of your brain far outweighed the uneasiness in your stomach, but shitty was definitely the right feeling.

When he asked you how you felt, you contemplated telling him about the phone call with your mother, but you still didn’t know him that well and unleashing all of your childhood trauma at 7:21 in the morning probably wasn’t the best idea. Instead you simply answered with, “Hungover, now give me some food.” He laughed and handed you one of the bags.

“This is the greasiest thing I have ever seen in my life, Sammy.” It was hard to turn away the thought of not eating it, as you would have normally.

He rolled his eyes, “It’ll help, just eat it and stop being a baby.” Oh the implications behind that statement went so much deeper than he could have imagined. He didn’t know, you reminded yourself, so you sucked it up and took your first bite. It was good, you could admit that much, and when you had finished almost half of it, your pounding head wasn’t so loud anymore.

Sam insisted on turning on cartoons, and you watched as he fiddled with your remote in his attempts to turn on the TV. When he finally got it, he let out an “Aha!” and you laughed at him.

When he began doing a Daffy Duck impression, you thought it might be time to turn it off, but you were laughing so hard that you simply couldn’t. You told him that you were glad you were missing class for this, and he playfully scolded your absenteeism.

“So are you busy tonight?” He took a sip of his coffee.

“I am until 8.”

“Good, you’re coming out with us again,” he told you, never giving you the option to turn him down.

You scoffed lightly, “I don’t think I could handle another hangover like this in the morning.”

“No, no, we’re going bowling! No drinking required!”

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