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#sam kiszka blurb
builtbybrokenbells · 6 months
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Catch-22 | i
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It always feels like the harder you try to forget, the more you seem to remember.
Masterlist
Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 8k
Warnings: talks about sexual situations, mentions of hookups, talk of general sadness/heartbreak/breakups, mentions of mean girls/high school bullies, poor-self image/insecurity, small town drama, touch of angst, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!
hello darlings 😁 im so excited to start this new adventure with you all. a bit of a slowburn but i hope that it will be worth it in time. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!
The air was chilly, nipping at your exposed skin to remind you of the seasons change, but it was not yet cold enough to be truly bothersome. The night sky was polluted with city lights and the sidewalks were littered with faces of vague familiarity, forcing you to recall a lifetime that you had lived long ago. The town was covered in a haze of melancholic grey, haunting you with years of memories that you had been trying so hard to forget. Your hometown was a place that you had been constantly trying to run away from, something that you had been dreaming of leaving behind for more, yet every holiday season you found yourself back in the same place, wondering if it would ever possible to cleanse yourself of the curses of a small town.
Your bedroom of your childhood home was the same, plastered with posters and photographs of people you hadn’t spoken to in years. You slept under the same comforter that your high-school self had picked out from a Walmart shelf, sixteen and in love with the tasteless pattern mostly because it was new and your very own, rather than one of your sisters well worn hand-me downs. Your pillows held memories of ex-boyfriends and friends that had all broken your heart, even after endless sleepovers and nights spent pouring your souls into each other. Your graduation cap and honours cords decorated your computer desk, and your abhorrent wardrobe was still hung in your closet alongside the embarrassing prom and homecoming dresses. Your parents sat in the same spots in the living room, effectively ignoring each other while trying to force themselves to fall back in love for the greater good of the family. They hadn’t touched a single thing in your room since you moved out.
It was familiar, comfortable, but it was a world you no longer wished to live in. Sure, the memories would be something fond to look back on when you were eighty and reminiscing about your youth while staring death in the face, but as a 23 year old who was eager to step into the real world, it was nothing short of an evocative ode to the person you forever wished you could destroy. You didn’t hate yourself in high school like many others did, at least not seriously; of course, there was a struggle with self image and insecurities, but what teenage girl did not face such problems? You were far from perfect, and you were definitely not a part of the popular clique (Which was just another small town narrative that drove you crazy), but you were alright with what you had made yourself to be all those years ago. You were a selfless soul who loved learning, a great friend who would sacrifice your own happiness if it were for another in need, and one who did fantastically in everything she set her mind to.
It was not your person that made you so eager for change, but rather the lack thereof. You were perfectly mediocre, someone who always flew just under the radar and never stood out. You wanted to be memorable, a person in which others would think of in decades to come, and you knew that the only way to do that was to leave everything behind. Mediocrity would forever become you in a town where it was cherished, and deep down, you knew that you were destined for something greater. Unfortunately, until your university degree was in your hand, you were forced to return home for the holidays. You were not yet able to move across the state and disappear from everyone’s memory, even if it was something you desperately craved.
As you walked, you questioned yourself on your own decisions. Why, especially after reiterating your opinion on your hometown in your mind, did you feel the need to agree to a night of drinking with a group of girls you hadn’t seen in years? At first, it seemed like a fantastic idea, a chance to catch up with people who reminded you of childhood innocence, but as you neared the bar, you felt dread settle in your stomach. These people had no idea who you were, and barely did even when they spent every day with you in grade school. Your lives were worlds apart; some were settled down with kids, some were still living with their parents while trying to relive senior year every weekend despite it being almost half a decade ago. Some had graduated college and started their full time jobs, but none of them were the type of people you wanted to associate with anymore.
Yet, you couldn’t seem to say no. Your generosity was your greatest strength, but somehow also your biggest weakness.
You knew that the night would not be horrible. Mind-numbing, perhaps, but survivable. You would sit and listen to their accomplishments, learn the names of their kids who you would never meet, and you might even share your own stories of life after high school. You would recall old memories, maybe even learn some new ones, and you would get to hear all about the people they loathed in your younger years. Then, you would all go your separate ways and maybe see each other at the ten-year high school reunion. It was predictable, but so were all of the small town dwellers who never took the leap of faith in changing. You would go home and sleep it off, and they would gossip about you over coffee at the shitty cafe down the street the next morning. It was inevitable, unpleasant, yet still seemed more appealing than trying to do schoolwork while listening to your parents passive-aggressive talk about things that were less than important in the background.
You checked your makeup in the camera of your phone, swiping away any specs of mascara and smudged lipstick before entering the bar. You weren’t willing to give them any fuel to talk behind your back once you went home. You had even put on a nice skirt and a shirt that was a little out of your comfort zone for the occasion. You knew you didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, but growing up alongside a sea of cheerleaders and athletes had severely impacted your self confidence. You were average in every aspect; your younger self was a little bigger than most in terms of weight. You had glasses and poor makeup skills, always trying to cover your acne yet only ever making it more obvious. You never dressed up, and most often dressed down, and you were so involved in academics that you never bothered much with a social life beyond your small group. You hated school dances, and your family never had the extra money to spend on any extracurricular activities. With three children, you couldn’t blame them; you knew that you and your sisters had a good life, even if you had to miss out on some things here and there.
You were not bullied, but your peers were certainly not overly friendly nor concerned with your existence. Since then, you weren’t shy to admit that your appearance had drastically improved. Not in any grand sense, but your metabolism finally caught up to speed, your skin cleared, you learned some tricks with makeup brush and had discovered contact lenses. Maybe your agreement to join them had less to do with your fear of saying no, and more to do with your desire to prove your worth. If they were going to talk, you hoped that you could at least give them something good to say.
You opened the door, drawing in a long breath to settle your thoughts as you were slapped in the face with the warmth of the air inside. You could hear music drifting through the sound system, likely a song from the same playlist they were using the last time you had visited over a year prior. Originality was not something that was greatly cherished, and the regulars would probably still hoot and holler for songs they had heard ten times that night alone. The bar was lit with dim lamps shining from underneath the liquor wall and the neon projections from the dance floor. It was so predictable, yet you still found an unexplainable charm in it. It was one of the few bars that remained standing amidst a nasty fight for business, and it had been open since your parents enjoyed a night on the town (which was a very long time ago). Still, the staff was friendly and every now and again there was a diamond in the rough that sang when they broke out the karaoke machine. It wasn’t miserable, but it was nothing like the bars you were used to in your university town.
You slipped your coat from your shoulders, already finding it too warm inside, and fought your way through the crowd to the bar. You pulled a twenty from your wallet, anxiously awaiting your turn to order. Eventually, after a few moments of watching them sling pitchers of draft beer across the countertop, a bartender made her way towards you. “What can I get you, honey?” She asked, a blinding smile on her face. You wanted to believe it was genuine, but you knew that it was likely an act to coerce a tip from you. Either way, the kindness was appreciated, especially when you were feeling so jittery.
“Just a double vodka soda for now, please.” You said, drumming your fingertips against the countertop. She gave a curt nod, rushing away to fix the drink. Whether her speed was because she wanted to get rid of you or because she wanted to provide five-star customer service was neither here nor there. Within a minute, she sat a frosty glass of liquid courage before you and was already offering to start a tab. With hesitancy, you slipped the bill back in your pocket and agreed to pay later, handing her your credit card instead. You were aiming for a drink and dash, but you figured you shouldn’t walk into an interaction with such negativity. For all you knew, the night could be the best time you had during your visit home.
‘That would be pathetic.’ You shut the thought down as soon as it surfaced.
With the glass in your hand, you turned towards the crowd. Your eyes scanned the bodies, aiming to locate your company for the night, but knowing that you would be just as content if they decided not to show. After a moment, you heard your name over the mess of drunken chatter and shitty music. Your head turned in the direction of the sound, locating a group of girls in a corner booth. You forced yourself to smile, sipping on your straw as you stepped towards them. A whirlwind of emotion struck you once you were within earshot of their conversation, only questioning yourself more as the seconds continued to pass by. Before you could convince yourself to turn and run, they slid over and invited you in.
“Well hello, y/n.” A bubbly blonde greeted. Her name was Beth, and in middle school, she had started dating a boy named Jack. You could recall the toxic, jealous display the two often engaged in and the cheating scandals that seemed to surface every other week. When you all graduated, he joined the military right after he popped the big question. They were married two months later and had their first kid seven months after the graduation ceremony. Now, she was a stay at home mom with three kids and a blog about her family life, which to you just seemed like a huge cry for help.
“Hi,” you smiled, settling into the booth.
“We were so happy to hear that you could make it.” Another girl spoke, Allyson (the ‘y’ was very much important to her identity as she liked to remind everyone, although you did remember her spelling it with an ‘I’ until high school), with fake ginger hair and so much plastic surgery that she was nearly unrecognizable in comparison to your early days. She came from a rich family, one who never taught her much about hard work or discipline. She considered herself a professional social media influencer, which she claimed paid for the mansion she now lived in. You all knew her parents gifted it to her, yet nobody seemed keen on calling her on her bullshit. But, she was gorgeous, and she did take some damn good pictures from what you had seen on her Instagram. You never minded her much in school.
“Yeah, I was really happy to get the invitation.” You forced through your teeth, still wondering why you came at all.
“How’s life at UMichigan?” The last woman spoke, voice quiet and genuinely curious. You looked to your side, eyes softening at the sight. It was your best friend from elementary school, someone in which you shared lots of dreams about being an astronaut over juice boxes and Barbie dream houses. You didn’t see much of her once middle school came around; she loved soccer, and you loved the library. The world played its part in your separation, yet there never seemed to be any ill feelings about the shattered friendship. Her name was Sarah, and she was admittedly still the prettiest woman you had ever seen. She went to community college and worked at a daycare somewhere around town. Strangely enough, even after years of radio silence in grade school, once you both graduated, you remained in contact. She was one of the few people from Frankenmuth that you kept any kind of contact with, even if it was minimal. (In truth, it was really only the occasional ‘how are you’ and funny pictures sent through social media, but contact is contact, right?)
“It’s good,” you nodded, already nearing the end of your drink. “Just a few more months and I’m done, so that’s exciting. The city is nice, and so are the people. It’s kind of like a home away from home.”
“What are you taking, again?” Allyson asked.
“Oh, English literature. Guess I never really grew out of my love for books.” You chuckled, stirring your ice around your glass with the straw.
“You did love to read,” Beth chuckled, fidgeting with her wedding ring. You wondered if she craved escape the same way you did, or if she ever wondered what life would be like if she didn’t rush herself into marriage. After the endless heartbreak her now husband seemed to cause her all those years ago, you doubted that she was any more than just content. People didn’t change that much, and you feared that she was still living the same reality as her high school self did.
“I did,” you agreed, feeling the awkwardness already begin to creep up on you. “What about you? Your kids are absolutely adorable, by the way.” You shifted the attention away from yourself, despising the empty small talk.
“Oh, thank you.” She gushed. You could tell that they were her pride and joy, and despite her potential distaste for the life she chose for herself, she had not one bit of regret for them. “I’m doing good, but they definitely keep me busy. Don’t have much time for anything else with them running around all of the time.”
“I can imagine.” You sympathized, wondering if her extended invitation was just an excuse to be a real person and have some alone time for ten minutes. “Love the blog, by the way. Your recipe page is my go to for any kind of get-together.” You could tell she needed the gratification, and you never minded dishing any out.
“Really?” She squeaked, almost like she couldn’t believe someone actually cared enough to read them.
“Of course.” You nodded. Maybe you had misjudged the situation, and catching up after so long wasn’t terribly bad. After all, you had all grown and changed so much that it was almost like getting to know each other all over again. “And Allyson, I saw you just got back from Bali not too long ago. How was that?”
“It was phenomenal.” She gushed, eager that the conversation was pointed in her direction. “Definitely my favourite place I’ve been so far.” You were almost sickened at the thought of footing her travel bill, but smiled despite your astonishment at the fact that she had the money to travel the world so freely. You were thankful that the bartender came to clear the table, prolonging your process of trying to think of another question. You all put in another drink order, knowing that intoxication would be key to making the night enjoyable. Stale air surrounded you as you waited for the next round of drinks, none of you sure of where to go from there. When your second double of the night was within reach, you could already feel the tension melting away in your shoulders.
“You look really good, y/n.” Sarah said, studying every detail your face had to offer. “University life is definitely for you.”
“Oh,” you gave a nervous laugh “thank you. I finally discovered the benefits of contact lenses, so that really helped.” You joked, recalling the bulky frames that used to sit on your nose. They were so horrendous that it was impossible to forget them.
“No, you look happier.” She replied, giving you a small smile.
“Yeah, I am.” You nodded, knowing that she had hit the nail on the head. Leaving town had done wonders for your mental well-being, and even more for your personal development. You were free to spend time with others just like yourself, and ones so different that they constantly challenged you to step out of your comfort zone. Different as adult was so much better than different as kids, because you never felt shamed or outcasted for your previously strange likes and interests. Different after eighteen was so unlike what you had known as a child, and you quickly learned that there were so many divergent personalities like your own waiting to be discovered. Back when you lived under your parents roof and knew nothing but your high school, you were well aware that if you didn’t fit in with the culture of the community, you were better off lying rather than showing your true colours. Small towns always seemed to beat any unconventional traits out of a person and they cherished likeness. There were thousands of people who resided in your town, yet they all seemed like the same personality, just in a different body.
“All it took was getting away from Frankenmuth.” Beth said, sending a wink your way.
“Or getting away from Sam Kiszka.” Allyson giggled, but you found her comment far from humorous. The name seemed to strike you like a gunshot, tearing through you and leaving little behind. You choked on your drink, sputtering and coughing to expel the liquid and hopefully his memory, too. You hadn’t heard the name in a long time, and if you had it your way, you would never hear it again.
“Stop,” Beth gave a gentle smack on her arm, but still found herself laughing alongside the other girl. You were too distracted to care about their pointed snickering, already pulled back into a violent confrontation in your mind over the one person you had promised to forget. It seemed that at the sound of his name alone, you could remember his spirit and his presence so clearly, like he was sat right in the booth beside you and no distance had ever separated you from him. You could hear his voice, the sound of his laughter, and you could feel his hand on your arm, gripping you tightly as he laughed at one of your stupid jokes. The air was stolen from your lungs, your own mind was suffocating you as it forced you to recall the memories.
It was almost funny, grieving someone so deeply while they were still alive and breathing. It was almost terrifying, knowing that after years of trying to forget, you only ever seemed to remember with more clarity.
“Do you ever hear from him?” The words pulled you back into reality, but the impact of his memory was so profound that reality did not even seem real. Your eyes flickered up to Beth’s face, unsure if they were asking out of curiosity, or if their plan was to torture you all along. You thought it best to just continue as if the topic hadn’t completely derailed your entire life in just a few seconds. You were never one to hang your dirty laundry on the line for everyone to see.
“No, never.” You shook your head, but it was a lie. Well, only partially. There was a stash of saved voicemails from him in your inbox, but they ended somewhere around your third year of university beginning. The sober version of yourself questioned why you would ever keep such things so easily accessible, as they were nothing but a trophy of your misery, but the drunkest version of you needed to hear them to go to sleep at night. There was an entire album of pictures of him saved deep in the stores of your phone, retrieved only on nights when you had too much wine and too little self control. There was a box of memories tied to a man who no longer knew if you were alive or dead stored in a box underneath your bed, just because you could never find the courage or the strength to discard them. So no, you weren’t lying when you said that you never heard from him, but you would be lying in saying that you had managed to rid yourself of him. Even when you begged yourself to forget, you never really wanted to let it all go. You promised yourself that with time, you would finally be free, but the time was nowhere near right yet, even if you wished it was. “He seems to be doing great for himself, though.”
“Oh my god, I know.” Allyson gushed, almost like she had been waiting to address the elephant in the room. It was a culture shock to everyone in the town to see you and Sam finally go your separate ways, and you were certain that it had been a common topic of discussion for the people left behind. “They’re all so hot now.”
“Hey,” you defended, the response automatic even if it wasn’t deserved. “Sam was… I mean, he was… they were all good looking.” You muttered, only digging yourself a deeper hole as you continued speaking. A chorus of giggles sounded from the booth, but you did not participate. You wished you could disappear, or even have the booth swallow you whole just to avoid any further embarrassment.
“Some things never change,” Beth sighed, reminiscing on an easier life.
“Did you ever meet anyone new?” Sarah asked, hoping to change topics to make it a little more digestible for you. As much as her concern for you was endearing, the time had long passed for any type of relief. You were now completely uninvolved in whatever the dynamic was at the table, instead thrown back into a whirlpool of emotions at the thought of the boy you hoped you would never have to see again. You should have known better than to accept the invitation, because small town girls only ever cared about gossip, and the legacy that you and Sam Kiszka had left on the town was too tempting for them to pass up.
“I mean, there were a couple flings, but nothing ever lasted long.” You whispered, burying yourself in the vodka soda to suppress the sour taste that was left in your mouth after speaking his name. “I don’t think dating is for me, anyway. Maybe in the future once I’m graduated and have a steady job, but just not right now.” You confessed, hoping that would be the end of the discussion.
“Don’t say that,” Allyson reached over, giving you a reassuring pat on the arm. “You never know what’s waiting for you. If you don’t want to date, just have some fun. No strings attached is a whole new world of possibilities.” She gave you a smirk, knowing that you were never the type for meaningless sex. They didn’t have to know you very well to know that; innocence was written all over you, even in the newest, most powerful version of yourself.
“You’re right,” you agreed, mostly just so you could move on, but you couldn’t deny that there was some truth in her statement. Maybe you had such a hard time forgetting because you wouldn’t allow yourself to learn about anything else. One night of nothing but fun seemed like a sure way to start moving forward, and after a year and a half of radio silence, you figured there could be no harm in trying.
“Oooh,” she wiggled her eyebrows, enticed by your intrigue. “Let me pick one for you, please.” She said, turning around and looking into the sea of people.
“Maybe not tonight.” You laughed, shaking your head at the absurdity of the situation. You were sat with three women in which you never thought you would speak to again, in the middle of a bar in your hometown that you hated with a passion, while your company begged you to let them pick you a one night stand. A dream would be the most logical explanation for the series of events, but your burning cheeks and nervous jitters were too strong to be a figment of your imagination.
“Why not tonight!” She exclaimed. “The sooner you learn that the world has more to offer than Sam Kiszka, the better you’ll feel.” She assured you. You gave a tight lipped smile, sipping the last of your drink away, knowing you shouldn’t protest the statement. If you did, you would only be further proving your ignorance to the truth, ultimately cementing your blind loyalty to someone who probably hadn’t given you a second thought in years. Still, even knowing you shouldn’t feel such a way, deep down you believed that the most the world could offer was Sam Kiszka, and you would be foolish for thinking otherwise. “Maybe we’ll get a few drinks into you, that’ll change your mind.” She said, signalling a bartender to the table.
And drink you did; it didn’t take long for the rosiness of your cheeks to change from embarrassment to tipsiness. The chatter about your love life died down and was replaced by humorous retellings of stories that had been long forgotten in your minds. Every now and again, Allyson would point to a man walking by in hopes that he would be suitable for your taste, but you always turned the other way. Along the way, you had switched from vodka to rum, and that was never a good thing for you. You were shocked at the lighthearted nature of the hangout, elated that you had decided to come, knowing that this would indeed be the most fun you had during your stay in Frankenmuth. The music only got better the drunker you got, and the bar seemed more and more inviting as you continued to sip away at the alcohol.
Somewhere around the sixth round of drinks, Allyson had convinced the crowd to move to the dance floor and further the fun. You were never one to dance, yet the rum coursing throughout your veins made it seem like a tempting endeavour. With a shot of tequila down and a lime wedge stuck between your lips, you were the first to make the move towards the swarm of bodies. Under the neon strobe lights, the world seemed like such a beautiful place, one in which no heartbreak or melancholic memory could touch you, nor could the weight of your hometown drag you down any further. Phones were out, snapping pictures of a night none of you ever envisioned for yourselves, but it would be one you would remember in years to come. Beth was free of the chains of motherhood for a night, Sarah was celebrating something none of you knew a thing about, Allyson was in search of a suitor for you and for herself, and for the first time in your entire life, Sam Kiszka was not even a thought in your mind.
It was so fantastic, that you even found yourself with your hands all over a nameless man who was quite easy on the eyes. He was tall, had a nice smile, and most importantly, was nothing like the boy you wanted to forget. There were few words shared between the two of you, but it seemed that the liquor was doing all of the work for you. You were both dancing, knowing that it didn’t matter what conversation you made, because you were both in search of the same thing; companionship for a single night, then leaving and never speaking again, just like it never happened at all. No Instagram follows, no Facebook stalking, or anything of the sorts. Just simple sexual pleasure without any further requirements. You would even be okay if he neglected telling you his name, because in truth, you did not care. You were only concerned in the ability of his hands, and perhaps even his mouth as long as there was a promise of him using it for anything but speaking.
When the song ended, he whisked you away to the bar to buy you another drink in hopes of winning you over. You did not have the heart to tell him that there was no need for any convincing, because you were more than ready to go home with him for the night. You took post on a bar stool, head swirling with endless possibilities. Your face was warm, and your eyes were glossy with intoxication. Much to your regular-selfs dismay, you would even be willing to compromise for a bathroom hookup just to avoid spending the entire night together. You were hammered, and it had been far too long since you had felt the hands of another. Your only rationale was that one time would not be the end of the world, and you likely wouldn’t remember most of it when the sun began shining in the sky again.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” He asked, leaning so close to you that your noses were nearly touching. There it was, the dreaded formalities expected before sexual intimacy. You hated it, and you hated getting to know people. Small talk killed you, and talk as simple as that was just dirt piling on top of the casket.
“Y/n,” you hummed, drinking down the fruity beverage the bartender had mixed for you. “What about you?”
“Austin,” he replied, eyes casting a heavy-lidded gaze over your face.
“I can work with that.” You smiled, wondering if he would take the final step toward the finish line, or if you would have to beat him to it.
“I’m sure you can.” He grinned, already showcasing excitement for what seemed like a certain agreement between the two of you. “Do you want to head back to my place?”
“I think that would be fine.” You nodded, inching closer to him. You wanted to kiss him, but you were afraid that the tension was so intense that you would not be able to contain yourself if you did.
“I’ll call us a cab.” He said, hand lingering on your hip with a burning touch. He pulled back, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone when you caught sight of a view that made your heart skip a beat. You shifted to the side, hopeful for a better look, even while knowing it was in your best interest to mind your own business and tend to your own needs, for once.
You squinted, trying to rid yourself of the double vision and focus in on your target. You leaned forward on your chair, eyebrows knitted together as you held onto the bar top for support. “Oh my god.” You audibly gasped, too drunk to hold back your shock. Your company gave you a look of confusion, unsure of what had caught your eye. When you didn’t answer, he turned his head to look in the direction of the disturbance. You waited, hoping that your eyes were deceiving you, but the longer you stared, the more familiar the long mop of curly hair seemed. When the subject in question turned to face the bartender rather than the body beside him, you thought you were going to be sick. You knew that big nose and that blinding smile, and you knew it far too well. It was one you hadn’t seen in years, but no amount of time would ever allow you to forget it. “I have to go.” You blurred out, rushing to your feet and nearly tripping over yourself to get away.
“Wait, did I do something?” Austin asked, completely clueless about anything that was happening.
“No, sorry, just have to go.” You muttered, pulling your jacket from the back of your chair. You grabbed your purse, scrambling away from the scene to try and locate the girls you had spent the evening with. Approaching the dance floor, your eyes landed on the group you had left behind. You scrambled towards them, frantic and breathless in hopes of saying goodbye. When you were a few feet away, a body stepped in front of them before you could reach them. Your eyes widened as you stepped backwards, knowing that there was no way in which you could continue forward with him in your way. He was short, his long brown hair cascading down his shoulders as he adorned a lazy smile. His face was so similar to someone you knew too well, so achingly beautiful and haunting in its familiarity.
You made it off of the dance floor, relieved to be free from an interaction you were absolutely unwilling to have. You let out a long exhale, turning towards the exit. You thought you were in the clear until you saw someone lingering by the main entrance, a dopey grin on his cheeks as he chatted up a group of people at a nearby booth. “Why are there so fucking many of them?!” You exclaimed to yourself, not even loud enough to reach your own ears over the music. You wondered if you could slip by unnoticed; maybe, if you put the hood of your jacket up, he wouldn’t even recognize you as you walked by. You thought it was your best chance at escape, not seeing any other way out of the grisly predicament you had found yourself in.
As you were slipping your coat on, you noticed the body by the door finishing up his conversation. Your heart sped, palms breaking into a sweat as you rushed to pull your hood up, but you were much too late. The boy had started to make his way towards you, his curious eyes settled on your face as he attempted to place your astounding familiarity. After a few seconds, his eyes lit up like he’d won the grand prize. He sped his pace, trying to reach you before he lost you. In a panic, you took a few steps backwards, recklessly trying to run before he could close in on you. Instead of a graceful disappearance, you had walked straight into someone standing a few feet behind you. Luckily, the person was not carrying a drink and there was no mess to be had. You figured you could mutter an apology and be on your way.
You turned, ready to rush out an apologetic comment for being so clumsy, but when your eyes landed on the face, you thought the ground was going to disappear from under you and the sky would come crashing down. Your stomach was positively sick with stress and your heart was on the verge of combusting. Your hands were shaking, no longer concerned with concealing your face, because there was no need to hide, anymore. You had been caught red handed, and by the absolute worst person out of them all. If you would have just mustered the courage for an awkward chat with one of the others, perhaps you would not have been so unlucky to run into Sam Kiszka himself, smiling down at you with a far away look in his eye.
“Long time no see, Rapunzel.” He gave you a small smirk, stealing the air directly from your lungs and effectively shattering your psyche.
Your house was still, not a peep to be heard from any of your siblings bedrooms nor your parents. The soft hum of the television could be heard if you listened hard enough. Your fathers snoring was extremely faint in the background, and the putter of rain against the steel roof enveloped the home in a cozy atmosphere. For a Saturday night, you were all tucked away considerably early with no better place to be. You had your record player on the lowest setting, giving an ambience in your room without disturbing any peace. A soft yellow light from a lamp by your beside was the only thing illuminating the room, and you were seconds away from sleep. That was, until a soft plunk of something hitting against your window scared you back into wakefulness.
You climbed from your bed, uncertain of the cause of the noise, yet having a sneaking suspicion rise in the back of your mind. As you peered into the darkness of the night, your heart gave an excited flutter as your eyes landed on the culprit. You cracked the window open, popping the screen out and gently leaning it against your wall. “Let down your hair, Rapunzel.” His voice was quiet, both of you fearful of being caught but never enough to sway your decision on seeing each other.
You reached down, extending your hands to him. He grabbed on to them and you helped him up, slowly letting go once you were certain he had a good grip on the windowsill. He pulled himself up, gracelessly tumbling inside through the small open area. “You’re stupid, you know.” You giggled, making sure to be as quiet as possible.
“You love it.” Sam said, looking down at you. There was a glimmer of adoration shining in his eye, one that told you he would be happy to insulted by you for the rest of his life. “My parents weren’t home, so I figured I’d come and see you.”
“Well, my parents are home, and they’ll kill us if we get caught.” He was barely listening to you, already sliding the window shut to lock out the cold air. He turned back to you, reaching out to cup your face in his hand. You melted into the feeling, knowing that it had realistically only been a day since you had felt his touch, but it felt more like an eternity.
“I would be more than happy to die if it meant it would be by your side, y/n.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes fluttered closed at the euphoric feeling, knowing that you too would be alright with dying as long as he was by your side.
“How are you, Samuel?” You asked, shifting uncomfortably on your feet as you tried to think of a way out of the conversation.
“Better now that you’re here.” He said, looking as if he wanted to reach out and touch you, yet knowing that he shouldn’t.
“Please, let’s not act like this is a joyous reunion.” You chuckled, averting your gaze to the floor. The longer you looked at him, the worse your chest ached.
“Come on, Princess. You knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.” He chuckled, looking down at you with the same adoration he had all of those years ago. His hair was longer now; you recalled the last time you saw him, when he had told you he was working on growing it out. You had seen pictures, but he was so much different in person. The childish nature of his face had long gone, replaced by the face of a man you no longer knew. It was horrific, astounding to know that everything had changed. He was not the same person you remembered him as, and it was a hard pill to swallow even if you had been telling yourself that for months.
But, just because you knew that Sam was not the same person who once was so important to you, did not mean that you wanted to accept the fact. As you continued staring at him, a lifetimes worth of memories flooded back to you, making home in your heart despite you desperately trying to keep them out. His eyes held familiarity, and a sense of home that you hadn’t felt since the last time he stood before you, and they were drawing you in further with every second that passed. You would forever break underneath the weight of your love for Sam, and even years after the initial heartbreak, the feeling never seemed to fade. It had been more than a year since you were last face to face with him, now accompanied by someone you knew absolutely nothing about, but there was a fizzle of joy in your heart to finally be in his presence again. You hated him, but you loved him despite the hatred, and that was the most wretched part about it. He knew you so wholly and completely that you despised him for it, yet it held an odd comfort that you had never felt with another. You never wanted anyone to know you as well as Sam, but most of the time, you did not even want him to know you so well.
“Guess I did,” you shrugged, looking down at the floor. “Can’t ever seem to stay away from each other.” It was the painful truth; no matter how far you ran, you could never get far enough away. Or, you ran so far that you made it all the way around the world, just to end up staring at the back of his head.
“You look stunning, y/n.” He said, almost seeming nervous to voice the compliment. “I miss you.”
“Thanks.” You mumbled, your cheeks turning red at the kind words. “I, uh… I miss you, too.”
“I left so many voicemails, and I never heard back. Just figured it would be best to give you some space. Didn’t realize it would turn into months, and then I was too scared to reach out.” He explained. You bit down on the inside of your lip, recalling the declined calls and unanswered messages. You felt horrible about it, yet you knew that it was ultimately for the best. Back then, you never pictured yourself coming face to face with him again. Maybe if you had at least given an amicable goodbye, it wouldn’t be so difficult to look him in the eyes. Then again, you could not blame yourself too harshly for leaving without a word, because god knows he deserved much less than a silent goodbye.
“Some things are better left unsaid, Sam.” You reminded, trying shake away the looming sadness that was hanging over your head. How can you love someone’s company and loathe it all the same?
“I know, and I don’t blame you.” He agreed, hoping that you knew he wasn’t angry. “Can I buy you a drink, maybe? I know it won’t make up for anything, but it’s the least I could do. It would be really nice to catch up.” You looked up, finally meeting his eyes. You wished you hadn’t, because the pain he held in his gaze was too much to bear. It was the same one you had been carrying around for so long. You wanted to say yes, to let the past remain the past and move forward somehow, but you felt frozen. It would be nice to hear about his life, to say hello to his brothers, and Danny. ‘Sweet Danny’ you thought, another wave of grief washing over you. You missed him so badly, and you craved to rekindle your friendship with him, but he had always been Sam’s friend, first. It would not be fair for you to impede on their relationship for any selfish reason, and selfishness seemed to be all you knew when it came to Sam.
“No,” you shook your head, the weight of your rejection heavy in the air. “No, Sam. I have to get home.”
“Oh,” he attempted to cover his hurt with the word, but it only made it all the more clear. “Yeah, okay. Maybe some other time?” It was not likely that you would ever be willing to make plans with him in the future, but you could not seem to break the bad news to him. Instead, a little white lie would solve your immediate problems, and you could continue on trying to pretend he did not exist. That way, you would never actually need to confront the issue. Avoidance was a game the two of you had mastered, and you only thought it right to keep up the same energy.
“Sure, Sam. Some other time.” You nodded, already stepping away from him. “Have a good night.”
“You too, y/n. It was good seeing you.” He said, wishing he could find the right words to convince you to stay. Instead, he watched as you disappeared into the sea of people, wondering if he would ever get the chance to see you again.
You pushed through the door, tumbling into the night as tears threatened your eyes. Your heart was heavy, so heavy that you were having trouble placing one foot in front of the other due to the sheer weight of it. You pulled your jacket closer to your body, trying to keep out the cold and exile the lingering feeling of his company. You wished that you had declined the girls invitation, not because of any reason you previously thought you would, but because you knew that the innocent reunion with Sam would hinder your healing and bring you right back to square one. The hardest part about being in love with Sam was not actually loving him, but rather falling out of love with him. You had been trying for years, and every time you thought you made progress, it would ultimately be for nothing, because something else would come along that would make you fall in love all over again.
As you walked back to your childhood home, the streets reminding you of the version of yourself you were desperate to kill, you realized that your hatred for Frankenmuth had little to do with your need for change. You weren’t eager to leave because of the gossip, nor the close-minded nature of the population, and not even because of the lack of substance. Your hometown was quite beautiful if you knew where to look, and held charm like no other. It was not the worst place in the world, and in truth, it was quite far from it. Your desperation to leave was directly accredited to your desire to forget Sam Kiszka. You wished to purge yourself of his memory and erase him from your life. You craved to be a new person, one who his hand never had the opportunity to touch, and one who was strong enough to break from the incessant cycle that you had been stuck in since the beginning of time. The person you wished not to be was not the one who grew up in a small town in Michigan, it was the one who fell irrevocably and unequivocally in love with Sam.
As you wiped a tear from your cheek, you were terrified that you would never see a lifetime in which he did not exist. Above all else, you feared that even if you escaped the town and the shackles in which it held you with, you would still never be free from the curse of loving Sam Kiszka with every fibre of your being.
TAGLIST: @itsafullmoon @freefallthoughts
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Master of Keys
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warnings: 18+ (minors DNI!!!) basically porn with plot-- degradation, dacryphilia, gagging, heavy spit kink, rough intercourse, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), pinning, marking, cunnilingus, male receiving oral, hard dom!sammy.
word count: 2k
synopsis: when configuring a song on the piano, things take a turn as your boyfriend Sam attempts to show you how it's done.
a/n: hey all! this was a request i recently got, and have really enjoyed writing! I hope you all enjoy!
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Fingers danced among the keys, shifting from chord to chord in gentle movements, but somehow, you couldn't quite figure out what didn't sound right. As you sat on the white bench, your fingers glided across the ivories, attempting to find a tune that sounded just right in contrast to the previous chords you had played.
Letting out a sigh of deep frustration, you tried again and again, until a familiar voice peaked from the doorway. "Having some trouble there, doll?" Sammy asked, walking over to the edge of the piano. He leaned against it, watching as you played the tune once again, the sour note causing him to crinkle his nose. "I just can't figure it out.. I don't know where to go after that." You explained, exhausted from the various previous attempts. Sam nodded gently, standing up straighter. "Let's see.." He hummed, making his way to your side of the claviature.
The male watched as you played the tune over again, causing him to shake his head. "That's the problem, pretty girl.." He said gently, resting his hands over yours. "Instead of going to the G, you should move to a C.." He instructed, his hands guiding yours across the keys. Surreptitiously as you played, Sam grew closer, his chest pressing against your back gently as you continued to replay the melody. His hands slowly shifted from your hands down to your waist, his chin nuzzling against the crook of your neck comfortably. He hummed along to the song as you played, his fingers slowly tracing the waistline of your leggings.
Goosebumps pricked your skin as his chin turned, his lips coming in contact with your neck. "Sammy.. I've got to work on this song.." You insisted. Though you could feel a warmth growing in your core, finishing off the song was important to you. He shook his head, pulling away from his plump kisses to speak. "You don't truly want to stop..," His hands traveled past your waist, his fingers slowly brushing against your heat. "Already wet..? I've barely touched you.." He let out a soft laugh. Shivers were sent down your spine as your hips slowly rolled forward against his palm. He shook his head gently, his hands slipped up to keep your hips readily in place.
A desperate whine slipped past your lips. "Sammy, please don't tease me like this.." He shook his head and grabbed your chin. "That's not how you address me, and you know that damn well." He veered, his deep brown eyes staring back into yours.
"Y-Yes, sir.." A gasp left your mouth as you looked up to him, a hand gripping the bench. Slowly, Sam's thumb pushed past your lips, allowing you to take it in. "Good girl.." He murmured, watching as you swirled your tongue around his digit. "Let's see how long that lasts." He mentioned, a cunning smirk wiping across his face. He reached behind you, pushing the cover of the piano down onto the keys. His other hand had remained gently cupped beneath your jaw as he pushed his thumb further back into your mouth. He bit his lip, watching as drool slipped down your chin. "You're such a slut.. doing everything I say.."
Slipping his thumb from your lips, he drew you in for a deep kiss. His lips parted lightly, his tongue meeting with yours, his hand sliding from your chin to your neck while his other pushed you up against the piano's front. A faint whimper met his lips from yours as you felt the wood meet with your back. His hand pushed it's way up your hip, slipping beneath your shirt, coming in contact with the heat of your stomach. Leisurely, his lips left yours as your eyes met once more.
Suddenly, however, an unfamiliar semblance became visible in his chocolate iris'. You couldn't quite get a word out other than a small "Hm..?" as you studied him, attempting to unlock the strange secrets that he withheld in his mind. His palm snuck under your chin for a second time, before he finally gave you a glimpse into his head.
"Open."
Your brows furrowed curiously as you looked up at him. Unsure of what he meant, you just stared. His hand advanced to the nape of your neck, taking a hand full of hair, pulling your head back. "I said open." His voice was stern and harsh. Finally understanding, you parted your lips for him, allowing your jaw to widen. Without hesitation, he spat into your gaping mouth, his hand finally coming back to prompt your lips shut. "Swallow." He instructed.
Looking into his looming eyes, you did as he said, swallowing the warm liquid. His gaze didn't falter as he admired you. Suddenly, he pulled you down from the bench, beaming over you. "On your knees." He demanded, keeping eye contact as you knelt before him. The stiffened tent in his pants met your eyes as he took one of your hands, stroking himself with your small palm. The heat of his stiffened length radiated from his trousers into your hand as you looked up to him through hazed lashes. "Sam-- Sir.. I need you.." You begged, looking up to him in desperation. "Well, if you want to be such a needy slut, you're going to show me how badly you really want it." He elucidated.
As he undid his belt, you could feel your panties soaking through the fabric of your leggings. You needed him.. He knew exactly how to work you up, and it infuriated you. Once his belt had fell to the wooden floor, he slipped his pants off. Knowing what to do, you reached up, pulling the fabric of his briefs down, causing his length to spring out just in front of you. A bead of precum settled at his tip as you slowly pushed your hand down his shaft-- a soft groan lulling past his lips.
You knew too well that he would become relentless the second you started, so you stalled, peering up to him as your hand thrusted against him. "If you're going to whine like a slut, you need to show me how desperate you really are." He glared, taking his bottom lip beneath his teeth as his hips pushed forward against your hand. You nodded gently, swirling your tongue around his pink tip. The subtle taste of his substance came in contact.
You eased yourself down onto his length, looking up to him with bashful eyes. He knew better, pushing his hips forward in hopes for more. Sam took a fist full of your hair, guiding you against his cock as he let out another raspy moan. "Fuck-- come on, whore.. You can do better than that.." He grimaced, his length begging for more movement. He began to push your mouth down onto him, his length reaching the back of your throat. Tears pricked your eyes as a minuscule gag pushed past your lips. Picking up the pace, your movements became more fluid, your head bobbing against him. Low groans rumbled from deep within his chest as he began to use your mouth. He fucked himself further and further into you until your nose reached the base of his length.
"Just like-- shit..-- Just like that.." He moaned, throwing his head back. With each thrust, more tears began to fall from your heavy lids, taking him as deep as you could. Watching his shoulders rise and fall with each moan, you watched as he edged closer, drool falling past your lips.
"Ahh-- Fuck!" He writhed, forcing you down against his cock as his warm seed filled your throat.
Pulling away as he finished off, he glanced down to you, snickering at the sight. "Look at what a mess you've made.." He purred, wiping your tear-stained cheeks. "Get on the bench." He commanded, already working to slip your shirt off. As you sat upon the wood, his fingers met between your thighs again, pushing against your core from outside of your clothing. Your hips grinded against his palm while his other hand made it's way to your breast, squeezing it lightly. A whimper fell past your lips as you leaned back against the piano, his lips meeting with your skin once more. "P-Please.. I.."
"You what? Are you getting all worked up?" He teased, getting down in front of the bench. In one swift motion, he pulled your leggings down, slipping them off past your ankles. His lips met with your thighs, slowly trailing kisses up to the lace that traced your begging heat. Without another word, he slipped the last of your clothing off, his lips coming in contact with your throbbing clit.
"Fuck! Please, sir.. m-more.." You droned, your fingers tangling in his hair. His tongue whirled against your vulva, his fingers teasing your slit diligently. You reeled with pleasure, moans and whines escaping your mouth as you gripped the bench. Sam shifted downward, his tongue meeting with your slit as the bridge of his nose pressed against your pulsating bud. Your knuckles became white as you gripped the seat, your head falling back against the piano's edge.
Just as you were growing towards a substantial climax, your master pulled away, leaving you a whining, trembling mess. "P-Please!" You begged, squeezing your legs together. "I was so close.." You staggered, your distressed eyes meeting with his once more. "Please, Sir, I need you.. I can't take it anymore.." Your adjured with ragged breaths.
Sam spat into his palm, slicking himself with his saliva before taking hold of your hips. "If you want it that badly.." He shrugged before pushing himself deeply into you, filling you with his warm length. The sudden pressure caused a sharp cry to leave your lips, grasping onto his arms shakily. "Oh my god.."
His lips met with yours once more, your desperate hums vibrating against his lips with each coarse thrust. One of his hands groped your breast while your grasp on his forearms didn't loosen during his relentless pounding. Your face hid in the crook of his neck as he gripped your hips with an aching hold-- it would surely bruise by the morning.
"That's it, come for me.. Come for me like the slut you are.." He graveled, a low moan bellowing from him as he sharply pushed into you. "Who do you belong to?" He questioned.
Too stunned to speak, all you could let out was a shaky moan. He took you by your throat, forcing you to look up to him. "Who?" He ordered.
"Y-You! I'm all yours.." You sobbed, your legs beginning to shake with each new thrust.
"That's it, doll.. That's it.." He praised, his hand slipping down to circle around your clit. "Come for me, doll. Let me hear you.." His voice trailed, your hands making their way to hook around his neck. With the next coming thrusts, you were sent into a quivering orgasm, your moans bouncing off of the walls as his thrusts came to a slow. Feeling the liquid fill inside you, he rested his head against your shoulder weakly. Breathlessly, You could feel him twitch deep inside you.
Sam slowly pulled out, his hand coming up to caress your cheek as he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, his lips melting against yours as he finally caught his breath. He withdrew from the kiss, peppering soft kisses against your shoulders. "Fuck.." A soft laugh left his lips as he admired you through half-lidded eyes.
As you simmered down and relaxed, your fingers ran through his soft hair, slow pants escaping from your lungs. "Let's run you a bath.." He concluded, kissing your forehead gently.
Once you were finally dressed, Sam curled beneath the covers with you, pulling you close. "I love you, sweets.." He assured, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.
"I love you more, Sammy.." You endeared, admiring him. Your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, unable to take your eyes from him. He gave you a soft, kind smile, his hands wrapping around your waist gracefully, pulling you close to him.
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devilat-thedoor · 7 months
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Wildflowers and Wine
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A/N: i was yearning for soft!Sammy. i just really needed this, so it’s completely self indulgent. but maybe you guys will enjoy it too? So, here’s a fluffy lil Sam drabble💖
🌲🌲🌲
A weekend getaway was exactly what you needed to escape the stresses that life had been throwing at you. When Sam surprised you with a trip to a cabin deep in the woods, you were more than excited to have the alone time with him. You spent the night packing everything up and left first thing in the morning, “You’re gonna love it up in the Smokies, babe.” He lifted his hand from the wheel to grab yours in your lap, “There’s a really nice waterfall off of this one trail… It’ll be too cold to swim, but it’ll still be cool to see.”
Leaning over the center console, you placed a tiny peck on his jaw, “Thank you, Sammy. I really needed this.” His smile grew as he squeezed your hand. You reached over to turn the music up a bit and settled back into your seat, eventually falling asleep.
“Hey…We’re here, babe. Wake up.” His voice was a mere whisper as his fingertips brushed over your cheeks. It was almost as though he didn’t actually want to wake you up, but his whispers persisted, “Babe, come on.” He tugged at your arm and your eyes finally opened, blinking a few times, and settled on his face. Sam was standing outside of the passenger door, waiting for you to step out.
Once you exited the car, you got a full view of the cabin, “Oh. This is beautiful.” You spun in a circle, taking in the looming mix of trees. Maples and Pines. Oaks and Hickorys. You wanted to run straight into the woods to explore and he could sense it.
He grasped your waist, pulling you against him, “Let’s get you changed first, then we can go on a hike.” He had your hand, guiding you up the few steps to the front door.
You stopped, looking back to the car, “We have to unload the car, hun.” You tugged on him, but he kept walking, dragging you with him.
“I already carried everything in while you slept, c’mon.” He opened the door and allowed you to step inside. It was rustic and cozy, a small living space with the kitchen attached. Sam came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin on your head, “I can’t wait to get you in front of the firplace tonight, babe.” He kissed the top of your head before releasing you and pointing to the short hallway with two doors, “Bedroom is left, bathroom is right. Go put some jeans on and grab a sweatshirt. I’m gonna put a pack together to for our hike.”
Wandering into the bedroom, you found the bags laid neatly on the bed and smiled to yourself as you dug through yours to find a pair of jeans. After lacing your sneakers up, you emerged from the bedroom, hoodie in your hand, and met Sam in the kitchen, “Ready, baby?”
He was tucking a few water bottles into the backpack and stalking over to you as he zipped it up, “Yep. Let’s go, pretty girl.” He grabbed your hand, twirling you under his arm twice, and pulled you out the front door, closing it behind him.
🌲🌲🌲
“Sammy, what is this?” You leaned down, examining the peachy-orange flower clusters, surrounded by long, thick leaves.
He sidled up to the shrub, plucking one of the flowers, “Rhododendron.” He turned you to face him, pushing your hair aside to slip the flower behind your ear, “They call these ones Flame Azaleas. They can range in color from white to yellow, even red… But the orange ones are my favorite.”
“They’re so pretty.” You picked your own bloom, carefully placing it in the breast pocket of his flannel.
“Come on, babe. The sun is starting to set, we should get back.” He was smiling wide as he turned around to walk back up the trail.
You fell into step behind him until something caught your eye, “Baby, wait!” You took off through the trees, “What is that?” You were ducking through leaves and branches, pushing through a dense thicket, as he chased after you.
“Y/N, slow down!” He finally caught up, breathing heavy as he began to scold you, “Babe, there’s bears and shit, you can’t just- Woah…” You’re sure his face had to of matched the incredulous expression of your own.
You stood in a clearing, staring out over a varying array of colorful wildflowers and tall, flowing grass, “Sammy, this is- Look at the sunset!” You pointed out to the horizon, forcing his attention to the dipping, golden sun as it cast an orange hue over the earth before you, “Baby, did you bring your camera? You have to get pictures of these.” You sunk to your knees into the grass, running your fingers over the various flower petals.
When you turned to look at up at Sam, his eyes were already on you, the brown of them turning to a fiery amber in the sunlight, “I left it at the cabin, we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” His lips lifted into a warm smile as he held his hand out to pull you from the ground, “Let’s head back before it gets dark.” He weaved his fingers with yours and led you back to the trail.
🌲🌲🌲
The walk back to the back the cabin was short and dusk was falling fast. As you walked through the front door, Sam broke away from you and rushed to the bedroom. You didn’t question it, just slipped out of your shoes and pulled your hoodie off to hang on a hook. Padding into the small kitchen, you opened the cabinets one by one until you found the cups before calling out to him, “Baby, do you want some wine? I’m gonna start dinner.” He called back a “sure, babe.” and you filled two mugs with the red. You sipped yours with a soft hum and began chopping veggies on the large cutting block.
Sam appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wearing a sweater and carrying a flashlight, “I’m gonna grab some firewood outside. I’ll be back, okay?” He pulled you against him, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.
You pulled back with a smile, “Hurry up, dinner won’t be long and I already poured your wine, hun.”
“I’ll be quick, promise.” He pecked your lips one more time and slipped away.
Your attention went back to the pot in front of you as you stirred the vegetable soup, bringing the spoon up to your mouth to taste it. Going to bedroom to retrieve your phone, you came back into the kitchen, clicking a random playlist on, and finished up the food. Song after song played, but it wasn’t until the soup was finished that you realized Sam wasn’t back yet. You cut the flame on the stove off and went to grab your hoodie to go find him but he was coming in the door before you stepped out of the kitchen, “Sammy, I was starting to get worried! What took so long?”
He was holding his hands behind his back with a beaming grin on his face, “I had a little side quest…” He pulled his hands around revealing what he was hiding.
“Oh my god, baby…” Your mouth hung open as you stared at the makeshift bouquet. A bundle of the all the diverse wildflowers you’d seen in the field on your hike, tied together at the stems with a few long pieces of the grass that surrounded them. He had to of gotten at least two of every species of flower there was, “Sammy, you went back in the dark and got these for me?” You took the bouquet from his hands and held it to your nose.
“Of course I did. I saw the way your face lit up when you saw them and knew I had to get them.” He watched you turn around and walk back to the kitchen, “Pretty flowers for the prettiest girl.”
“Thank you, honey, I love them.” You laid them across the countertop and went to the sink to fill a cup with water. When you turned back to him, He was standing in the middle of the room, drinking his wine, eyes locked on you, “Why are you looking at me like that?” You couldn’t hide the shy smile that ghosted over your mouth.
Sam set his cup down and stepped towards you, snaking his arms around your waist, “I love you…” He swayed you through the kitchen, holding you close while the music flowed from your phone, “I’ll pick all the flowers in the world if it means your eyes will light up like that.” He brushed the stray hairs from your forehead and began peppering your face with soft kisses.
You giggled through his attack, trying to shield your face, until he stopped and caught your lips with his, “I love you too, Sammy.” You wrapped your arms around his torso and held him tight as you laid your head on his chest, “I don’t need all the flowers… You make my eyes and my heart light up without even trying.”
He rested his cheek on the top of your head, humming along to whatever song played while he rocked you back and forth, “I’m still gonna pick you all those flowers tomorrow…”
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sacredthefran · 5 months
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In my defense these two pics made me feel fluffy. Just a warning this isn’t edited 😬
Sunday - the day reserved for rest and relaxation. Well, that’s how you and Sam viewed it. The week was always busy for you guys, in between the two of you having completely different work schedules and Saturday’s were reserved for hanging out with your friends and his brothers. Don’t get it wrong, you loved how his brothers would make your cheeks hurt from all the endless laughter and how they always made you feel like you belonged, but nothing felt better than this moment right here.
Usually you would lean over and rest your chin on Sam’s chest while he would run his fingers through your hair and both of you would pet Rosie at the same time - whispering sweet nothings to each other, enjoying each other's presence. But today? Today it was different, you woke up to find the bed empty, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion until you heard the faint strumming of an acoustic. Before rolling out of bed, you stretched a little and contemplated staying in bed for a couple of minutes, but your curiosities got the best of you, you wanted to see what your lover and your beloved fur daughter were doing.
With a small smile, you followed the faint sound to the makeshift music studio in your house - pausing in the doorway to take in the sight before you. Sam sitting on the dark brown couch facing away from the sun, the harsh rays surrounding his head, making him look ethereal. He was playing to Rosie, who was sitting with her head laying on the arm of the other sofa staring at him. As if he could feel your presence, he turned his attention to the doorway and made eye contact, him breaking out into a grin as he took in the sight of you.
“Morning sleepyhead.” He cooed gently - knowing that you’re not a morning person. “I made some coffee.”
Instead of replying you made a beeline straight for the kitchen, inhaling the rich coffee scent. You couldn’t remember if you saw a mug in the studio with Sam so you reached into the cabinet and grabbed two of them. Smiling the whole time as you made your cup just the way you liked it and deciding to leave his plain, knowing that he preferred his coffee black - no cream or sugar on Sundays, claiming that it was ‘a reset for the upcoming week’. Which made no sense to you but it did to him so that’s all that matters. With a mug in each hand you made your way back to the studio, trying to not to spill the hard liquid all over your hands.
Walking over to Sam you realized that there was a mug sitting right beside him, half empty.
“Well, looks like you won’t be needing this.” You mumbled into the rim of your mug as Sam pulled you into him with one arm, looking up at you as if you hung the stars.
“No, I want it. It probably tastes better.”
“It’s the same drink. It tastes the same.” You rolled your eyes as he took the mug out of you hand, bringing it up to his lips and taking a dramatic slurp of the dark colored liquid - humming loudly after he swallowed as if he was trying to sell you on how ‘good’ it tasted.
“You made it for me..trust me everything you make me tastes better than when I make it myself.”
“You’re so cheesy.” You chuckled, leaning down to give a soft peck to his lips, both of you breaking out into a smile as you pulled away. “As you were.”
Turning around you found Rosie half asleep, her dad’s soft playing and the rays of the sun warming her. Carefully you sat down next to her, placing your hand on her back rubbing softly, making sure not to startle her. Rosie’s ears perked up as she realized you were there, lifting her head off the arm of the couch, turning it to look at you - setting the mug on the table in front of you, you leaned into Rosie, petting her with both hands now. You giggled as she moved, clearly excited from the attention you were giving her.
“You listening to daddy play?” You mumbled against the top of her head after giving a soft peck to it. “It’s my favorite thing to do too.”
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ofburningskies · 1 year
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aw man!!!!! this hot weather has me thinking about summertime sammy ☼
you know he would get up early in the morning to take rosie out on a walk through the neighborhood to beat the June heat. he wouldn’t leave the bed before giving you a gentle kiss to wake you up, though! as he’s out walking rose, you make him and yourself a cup of coffee to prepare for the day’s activities.
summer sammy always loves to plan things with you during the day - whether that be going out to your local bakery and stopping by the bookstore on the way home, or even just hanging out in the garden, singing along to simon and garfunkel while you both tend to your backyard chores.
one of his favorite activities for you two to do over the summer was visit the community pool in the evening, especially after a long day in the sweltering sun. sometimes if you wanted to add even extra fun to your night, you would stop at the mini golf course across the street. you two would get the weirdest patterned golf balls and try to race the unbeknownst families who were spending their peaceful evenings with each other, meanwhile you and sam were cracking up at every other hole. one time he almost got you two kicked out when he swung the putt so hard, the ball flew and hit someone in the back of the head a few holes over.
needless to say, summertime sammy is so sweet. he loves to lay you back on your shared bed, whispering the most toe-curling, orgasm-inducing sentences into your ear. you always wear sundresses around the house during the summer, oftentimes forgoing anything underneath, as you hated the feeling when you were sweating and dying from the heat. this drove him wild with desire, wanton with need, the summer heat only spurring him on more. he would have you crying on his cock in no time, your back arching into his chest. you two clung to each other from sweat, grasping and clawing at anything you could get your hands on. he would take you multiple times in one day, if able. over the kitchen table, in the backyard, in the driveway after getting groceries. he just loved. you. in. your. sundresses.
i just think summertime sammy is neat :)
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Will you pretty please write a blurb about what you just re-blogged with Sam because it works so well! I’ve never related to something more in my entire life!!!!! 😩
Maybe this will get the gears turning in my brain again. I tried to write earlier and… my brain just cannot do her job today, thanks to gvf. ANYWAYS, let’s see-
18+ below the cut! Minors DNI!!
Arms hooked around your thighs and large hands pressed down against each of your hips to hold you still, Sam’s tongue teased at your clit - babying it and loving on it in ways that might make you cry.
“Fuck, Sam, fuck.” You whimpered, trying to push your hips up into his mouth.
His hands just pressed you down harder. He was having absolutely none of it, wanting to make you cum on his own time.
When he got in his teasing moods like this, you were doomed from the start. He would drag out everything, tormenting you with the slow drag of his fingers, or the barely there flick of his tongue.
Your clit throbbed lightly against his mouth, thankfully spurring him on a little bit. He tugged you closer to his face, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it rapidly with his tongue all at once.
Shock waves of pleasure surged through you as he dragged you closer to your high, slowly but surely.
“Sammy, please. Let me cum, please.” Your begging fell on partially deaf ears. You could feel him smirk against you, making you whine in frustration.
He switched between fast and slow movements of his tongue, pulling you to the edge and dragging you back down.
After a while of that, he started keeping a steady speed and pattern of his tongue.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck- Sam…” You breathed, squirming against his mouth again.
The sweet feeling of release started building up low in your stomach, forcing your breathing to rapidly quicken.
“Sammy, i’m getting so close.” You whined, hands tangling into the sheets on either side of you. “So close, s’close.”
Sam looked up at you from between your legs, a smug little twinkle in his eye that you recognized as no good.
He pulled your clit back into his mouth, humming around it in acknowledgment to your warning. “Mhmm?”
“Sa- Sam,” You sucked in a strangled gasped, hips involuntarily trying to jerk away from the sudden vibration.
A low laugh is sent straight into your bundle of nerves. Sam’s eyes stayed locked on you, just waiting for you to fall apart.
“Mmmm…” Sam repeated the same low hum, drawing it out a little longer. And he did it again. Then again.
That was all it took.
“Sam- Sammy, Sammy, oh my god-“
Your back arched away from the bed, hips fighting against Sam’s grip as you came. His tongue never left you, guiding you through your mind-numbing high.
He let out another deep and amused giggle against you, finally easing up from you only when your body started to tremble in slight overstimulation.
“Sensitive little thing,” Sam cooed, kissing over your clit one last time.
“Shut up…” You huffed, eyes still closed as you fought to catch your breath.
“I love it, though, doll face.” Sam moved his way up your body, holding himself up above you. One of his hands came up to stroke over your cheek. “I swear the littlest things could make you cum.”
“You’re fucking evil.” Your cheeks flamed up in a crimson blush and you turned your face away from him rather bashfully.
He knew just what to say to fluster you. Every single time.
Sam giggled, smiling down at you and turning your face back towards his to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “My pretty, sensitive girl.”
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kissthesun-gvf · 1 year
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definitely don’t imagine…
it’s one of your first times sleeping over at Sam’s after y’all get together and he was a little nervous about you interacting with Rosie because she’s not used to you quite yet
but you wake up in the morning with Sam’s arm wrapped around your waist and hear little paws moving towards you— you open your eyes to see Rose’s little face in front of yours
“good morning, Rosie girl,” you’d whisper, trying not to wake Sam up
she’d wag her tail at the sound of her name, and how could you say no to her cute face?
“okay okay, you come up here, but try not to wake your daddy up, okay?”
you pat the bed next to you and she cuddles in between you and Sam for an extra couple minutes of sleep
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jankandjonch · 1 year
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Angel Heart
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this is self indulgent and definitely not everyone's cup of tea :)
happy birthday sweetpea <3
words: ~800 content warnings: nonbinary!sam, very soft
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“Oh, hello, pretty boy,” you smirked at him from the doorway of his dressing room. He blushed, biting into the full of his bottom lip and casting his stare to the floor. “Don’t you be shy on me now, baby.”
A grip on his chin has him panting out a breath. Funny. Such a small touch makes him so weak. Samuel is an effeminate man. Very comfortable with himself, and his likes and dislikes. He just so happens to like to be called pretty, beautiful, sugar, sweetheart, and maybe from time to time he likes to have you dress him up and do his hair and makeup. He only ever wants to be so pretty for you. 
“Do you like it?,” he’s bashful, even after all this time. Even though he knows you accept him and all that he is.
“I love it, sweet baby. Jenn did so good,” you run your thumb across the top of his cheekbone where just a bit of highlighter sat. Admiring the gold eyeshadow, gold eyeliner, and gold rhinestone combo he was sporting. “Is that color?,” your thumb tugged on his bottom lip that was a bit more blush than usual, lingering with it pulled down as he nodded, looking up at you so sweet and shy.
“It’s that stain you like, I borrowed it from your purse, ’s that okay?,” his voice was gentle and easy, oh how you loved when he was like this.
“Yes baby doll, you know what’s mine is yours,” he nuzzled further into your hand as it still rested against his face. “You feeling soft?” It was a word with different meaning than some might think, especially outsides. He nodded against your hand, turning his neck to press a kiss to your wrist.
“Feel small,” he mutters into the skin there.
“Just have to make it through the show honey, and we can lay in bed, okay?,” while you had hoped to get to ravish him in this makeup look, wanting to see it run down his reddened cheeks as he broke into sweat and tears for you, you knew that wasn’t tonight’s destination.
~
Sam had never vocalized it to anyone before you, not even his brothers, his mother, his dearest friend Daniel. No one knew his brain the way he let you know it. You are always so proud of him, but never more than the night he finally spoke the words to you. “Nonbinary” was a word he wasn’t sure his use of. He just knew that he felt okay looking pretty. He knew that from behind when his long hair and the soft, gentle curves of his waist and bubble shaped rear got him misgendered - well, maybe it wasn’t such a miss after all.
“I think, I think I’m just okay. Being. Human. I don’t think, well I know it does for so many people, but not to me, well, yeah, I don’t think it matters to me, man or woman,” his cheeks were the brightest shade of red humanly possible, and he had been crying for some time to you already that night, this topic bringing such strong emotions out of him. “I’m just me. I don’t think I care what anyone else perceives that as.”
“For the record, the only thing I perceive that as is just fucking right,” you smiled big at him, showing him your full acceptance of his every word, pulling him and his full weight up on top of you in a bear hug. “You’re the prettiest, Sammy. The most handsome, the gentlest, the toughest, the sweetest sugar.”
“Mmm, like that,” he nuzzled down into your neck. “Can you call me those things? Is that okay?”
“What, honey?,” you ran your fingers into his hair, adjusting his head so you could find his eyes as he rested on your shoulder.
“Just. Anything…. girly. I like it, it makes me feel… small. In a good way,” he hid away again into the side of your neck.
“All you have to do is tell me what you prefer at that moment and I will always call you what you want. When you feel small I’ll call you my pretty baby. When you feel soft I’ll suck your tits,” dropping a light pinch to his nipple, “and call you my beautiful girlfriend. I’ll give you anything Sammy.”
You left him breathless that day. To accept him exactly as he is, to never let him shy away from himself or you, his true personality or identity. 
~
“You love me so good,” the same words he’d muttered to you that night, fell from his lips tonight.
“You are very easy to love, my angel heart.”
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basiccortez · 2 years
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26 & 39 with Sam!
took me a hot second but here it is! I hope you enjoy:)
warning: anxiety attack, hair pulling.
26. “Just breathe. Like that. That’s it.” 39. “Don’t leave me alone.” “I won’t.”
Sam couldn’t explain it, he hadn’t felt like this in a long time. The tightening of his chest, as his eyes became blurry with tears. His hands shook uncontrollably as he tried to find his way to your office. He didn’t know what was wrong, or how it happened, but he had this sinking feeling of doom that washed over him like a wave. The only thing running through his mind was how mad Jake was going to be when he told him that he didn’t book his flight for Chile in time. Sam was always cautious of deadlines and due dates, in high school he was usually the first one to turn in homework or assignments. But the date snuck up on, and Sam must’ve completely blocked it from his mind, focusing on finishing a song for the new album. When Jake asked if they were already to go, Sam froze. 
Sam felt light headed as he pushed open the door to your home office. You were currently on a call with your boss, checking in things at the office. You had a smile on your face as she explained some story on how one of the new interns got everyone's coffee order wrong, when you looked up and saw the panicked expression on Sam’s face. You hung up quickly and walked over to him. 
“Sam?” You asked him cautiously. He sucked in a deep breath, his hands going straight to his hair and pulling harshly on the locks, “Sam, what’s wrong?” 
“I fucked up,” He cried, as he pulled on his hair again, “Jake is gonna be so mad, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault.” 
“What are you talking about? Sam, breathe,” 
“No! I can’t, I can’t! I ruined it all!” Sam cried, and let out a scream as he fell to his knees. You knew Sam had panic attacks, the last one being years ago. It startled you as he cried loudly, and hit himself, repeating about how mad Jake was going to be. It took you a second, before you knelt down in front of him, and grabbed his hands so he would stop pulling his hair. 
“Hey, Sam, look at me,” You said, “Sam, Just breathe, okay, look, look at me.” Sam looked up at you, tears still in his eyes, his breathing frantic. You placed his hand on your chest, so he could feel the rise and fall of your chest. 
“Feel my breathing?” You asked and he nodded, “Try and copy me. In,” You inhaled through your nose, “Out,” You exhaled slowly out of your mouth. It took Sam a couple tries but he slowly calmed himself down, “Like that. That’s it.” You had Sam take a couple more deep breaths, his heartbeat becoming less erratic, “Can you tell me what happened?” 
“I, I didn’t book my flight,” Sam whispered out, “We leave in three days and I tried to find a flight and I couldn’t. I completely ruined everything.” 
“Sam, you didn’t ruin anything. Did you see when the next flight was?” You asked him. 
“My brothers and Daniel’s flight is Tuesday, the next one is Wednesday, but we play Thursday. I’m gonna be late and they’ll kill me.” 
“You didn’t do it on purpose, they will understand. You’ll just arrive a couple hours late. Have you talked to them?” 
“No, Jake is going to kill me.” 
“He won’t. He did the same thing a couple years ago, remember? When you guys went to Europe and he didn’t book his flight. He flew on the day of the show, at least you’ll be there a day before.” Sam nodded, and took in a deep shaky breath. You could tell his mind was still flooded and running a mile a minute, “How about we go lay down? I can look at the whole flight thing.” 
Sam again nodded. You helped him stand up from the ground, holding on to his hand as you walked down to your bedroom. Sam sat on the bed and took his socks off, and you draped a blanket over him. You turned to walk out of the room, when he grabbed your hand. 
“Don’t leave me alone, please.” He asked, his voice soft.
“I won’t,” You said. You walked over to your side of the bed, and crawled in. Sam immediately rolled over and wrapped his arms around your middle, his head resting on your chest. Your hands went to his hair, knowing that the gentle feeling of your fingers in his tangled hair will help him calm down.
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builtbybrokenbells · 6 months
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Catch-22 | ii
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Nothing good ever happens after 2am.
Masterlist
Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 9k
Warnings: angst, old heartbreak and some new heartbreak, mentions of hookups, crying, breakups, arguing, high school talk, mentions of insecurities, swearing, drinking, some fluff, sorry if i miss any!
hi everyone, was going to wait to post this later tonight but i am miserably tired and will probably go right to bed after work lol, so here you go. lots of backstory in this one! like I said, i plan on this story being a bit of a slowburn so please have some patience with me while we set the scene. i hope you’re liking this so far because i know i am :) as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻 (lightly edited my apologies)
The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the earth while green grass was tickling your feet as you tumbled through it. Your parents had given up on the battle of putting your shoes on, because you kicked them off every time they thought they had won. They were sat on a porch, looking out at you every now and again to check in, but we’re mostly caught up in chatter with the other set of parents sitting beside them. Life was simple; all you had to care about was toys and sleep, and maybe scoring well on a spelling test every now and again. In truth, as a six year old, there was no need to worry about anything more than that. Your whole life revolved around Disney movies and chocolate milk, shared most often with your best friend in the entire world.
Sam Kiszka was undoubtedly that person, from the very day you were born up until long after you moved away. Long before you were ever a thought in your parents heads, they had been good friends with Sam’s parents. Your older sister had the same relationship with Sam’s older twin brothers, and you had always been destined for the same fate. Between barbecues and beach days, school sports and sleepovers, your lives had been inevitably intertwined with the Kiszka’s since your very first day on earth. You never thought to complain, mostly because you never knew the difference. They were like an extension of your own family, and in truth, you saw them more often than you saw your actual aunts and uncles.
“Y/n!” Sam exclaimed, catching your attention. Your head turned in his direction, now uncaring for the doll clasped between your hands. A smile was on your lips, excited that he wanted your attention, but it was nothing new. You loved having his attention, and you loved when he was asking for yours. He was always your biggest priority, even back when you were that young. He was running towards you, something held tightly in his hands that you couldn’t see very well from the distance. You took off in a run, forever happy to meet him halfway. When you were within arms reach, he extended his hand out to you, showcasing what he was holding with pride.
“For me?” You asked, struggling with the pronunciation of the ‘r’ at the end of your word. The touch of the speech impediment was blatantly obvious, but he loved you too much to care about it.
“Yeah.” He nodded with a smile on his lips, too. It was nothing special, but it was incredibly important to you, just because it had come from him. He placed the cluster of dandelions he had picked for you in your hand, enthusiastic about his work.
“Thank you, Sammy.” You giggled, bringing them closer to your face to get a closer look.
“You’re welcome.” He beamed. “They’re pretty, just like you.” The childhood innocence was astounding; just two babies speaking from their heart, thrilled by each others company and hoping that your parents would never make you go home. You sat on the ground, crossing your legs and placing the flowers beside you. He wasted no time, sitting down with you, always wanting to do the same thing that you were doing. “We’re gonna be best friends forever, you know.”
“I hope so.” You agreed, amused easily by picking strands of grass from the ground.
“And when we grow up, we’ll get married, just like my parents, ‘cause that’s what best friends do.” He continued, falling back on the ground and looking up to the sky. You laid down next to him, gazing longingly at the clouds. At that age, everything seemed so much more wondrous, so much more beautiful. Colours were brighter, and the world was not yet tainted by the darkness of adulthood. Happiness was the most you knew, diminished only occasionally with sadness that stemmed from a broken toy or a scraped knee. The biggest struggle back then was when your mother made something you disliked for dinner and that bedtime was at eight. It was so much simpler, so much better. The kids in your class were not old enough to be mean, and even if they were, it never mattered because Sam was always by your side.
“M-married?” You struggled with the word, but once again, he didn’t care. He was too busy planning a life full of toy trucks and Barbie dolls, knowing that he loved you enough then to make space for your toys in his life, too, even if he didn’t necessarily like them.
“Yeah,” he said, looking over to you “we wouldn’t have to worry about our parents making us go home. We could stay up all night and play games together forever.” He theorized. Your six-year old brain thought it was the best idea in the whole world, even at that age knowing that a lifetime with Sam was a dream come true. Even if you didn’t fully know what it meant, you couldn’t think of any downsides of his plan.
“That would be awesome.” You giggled, closing your eyes.
“It would be the best.” He corrected, reaching across the grass and slipping his hand into your own.
You woke with a start, heart pounding in your chest and your forehead glistening with sweat. Your stomach was churning with unease, haunted by the innocent memories of your childhood. You sat up, head still spinning with intoxication as you looked around your room. Moonlight was pouring in the window, letting you know that it was nowhere near time for you to wake up. You found your phone tangled in the blankets, pulling it out to check the time. “Four in the morning?” You grumbled, feeling wide awake after your brain’s incessant recollection of your younger years. You did your best to stand, feeling yourself in a constant state of dizziness. You figured if you got some water into you, you could speed up your body’s process in returning to sobriety.
You creeped into the hallway, careful not to disturb any of your sleeping family members. You made it to the kitchen, feeling yourself relax as you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. You gulped as much of it down as you could, ignoring the nausea that came along with it. Before finishing the bottle, you grabbed some Advil and swallowed those down, too. Instead of returning to your bedroom, you took a seat at the kitchen table to let the water settle in your stomach. You felt a great deal better already, your eyes more focused and your heart resuming its normal rhythm, but your mind was still racing with memories similar to the one in your dream. You reached out to the fruit bowl sitting on the table, grabbing an apple in hopes that some good nutrients might aid your shaking hands and weak muscles. As you bit into it, you knew that the ailments were not because of a nasty hangover from alcohol; they were solely due to your body’s withdrawal from Sam.
He was the worst addiction you ever had, his effect on you similar to a fever that you just couldn’t kick. You were sweaty, shaky and delirious as you tried to bring your temperature down, but it only ever seemed to spike higher. You went through bouts of missing Sam, feeling the sickness creep in the longer you thought about him, but being face to face with him always seemed to debilitate you. Just when you thought you could rid yourself of the disease for good, he showed up out of nowhere, killing off any healthy cells and engulfing them with his existence. All of your progress gone in an instant, and he didn’t even care to see how badly he was hurting you. Sam was the only thing your body knew, and it craved him so desperately that it was excruciating to go without him, but it was so toxic that as soon as you felt his presence again, you thought you might die from the illness.
As much as you wished he would disappear, you knew that even after all this time, he was the beacon of light in your darkened universe. The only thing that would guide you home when you lost your way, yet also the very thing that you wished to run away from. Back then, he made home feel more like home, but now that he was gone, the lack of his presence made the loneliness scream even louder. The love never disappeared, but it seemed as though resentment grew around it, locking it up and throwing away the key. Even while knowing you held him in such contempt, you knew it was not the end of your story. It rarely ever was, and you believed that after years of manifesting that you would be intertwined forever, you cemented it so well that there was no escape from it, now.
It was the way you and Sam had always worked; you would be inseparable to the point where you started to believe that it truly was forever, and then something would cause a drift. It was either a huge blowout, or a silent goodbye. Neither were favourable because you both wanted to make it work so badly. You would stay away for a while, swear that it was the end and you would never double back on your word, then you would cross paths in a twisted way of fate, inevitably landing right back at the beginning. There was no better way to describe it than your conversation just a few hours before; one of you displeased with seeing the other, yet both of you knowing it was bound to happen despite your efforts at avoidance. Sooner or later, you and Sam always ended up back in each others arms, and eventually, you would be hurt again from the very thing you previously wished to have just once more.
The issue did not lie within a lack of love; the two of you loved each other beyond any measure of human comprehension, but you had absolutely no idea how to love each other properly. Destined to love and programmed to hurt. It was an exhausting process, and even after a lifetime of learning it so well, you hadn’t yet managed to discover the secret to breaking it.
Loving Sam would be the death of you, but the thought of anything at his hand was so comforting that you forgot about the fear of dying itself.
“I think I love you, Rapunzel.” The nickname was endearing, yet already overused in the short time since he had come up with it. He thought he was a genius when he rattled it off for the first time, the inspiration striking him while he sat below your window waiting for you to open it and allow him inside. Living just down the street from you made it so much easier to sneak out and visit, and it had become almost a nightly routine.
“I love you too, Sammy.” You laughed, keeping your voice quiet so your parents wouldn’t hear you. The last think you wanted was to get caught. You could deal with the consequences for yourself, but you’d be miserable if they stopped allowing Sam over.
He was your anchor in your house full of constant chaos; your oldest sister was constantly terrorizing you for taking too long in the bathroom (or for anything else she could think to be angry about), your youngest sister was still in elementary school and was always amidst temper tantrum, and your parents had become experts at fighting without saying a word. Peace and quiet was a foreign concept, and the nighttime routine that you and Sam found yourselves in was the best part of your day. He would sneak over just after dark when his parents believed him to be tucked into his room getting ready for bed. He’d throw a pebble at your window to let you know he was there, and you’d let him inside. You’d spend the rest of the evening together laying in bed, talking about your fears and your hopes and dreams, then he would begrudgingly make his way back home after a prolonged goodbye. It was predictable, but it was comforting, and it was the only constant in your life when everything else seemed so chaotic.
Eighth grade had taken an incredible toll on you. With puberty, your family’s new found tension, and your struggle with not fitting in with the rest of the girls was wearing you down, yet Sam still seemed to look at you the exact same as he always did; with love in his eyes and a smile on his face. Nothing in the world could change it, and he would still love you the same no matter what you looked like, because in his eyes, you were the most beautiful girl in the world. You looked over at him, focused enough to notice that his adolescence was slowly fleeing him. His jawline was sharper and every now again his voice would crack. He sounded different and looked different, but he was the same as he always was. It seemed like time could not even begin to touch his character, nor the bond you had formed, and you were incredibly grateful for it.
“No,” he shook his head, looking down to meet your face “in love, y/n.” His voice was quiet, but it was no longer because of the fear of being caught. He was fearful of rejection and of ruining what you two had worked so hard at creating. You couldn’t explain the feeling that washed over you; it was not anxiety or any type of nervousness, nor excitement. It was comfortability, like what he said to you was less of a shock and more of a rite of passage.
“Yeah, me too.” You whispered. It did not matter that neither of you really knew what being in love meant, because you loved each other in every way you knew how, and that was the only thing that held any importance. Thirteen year olds had no true sense of reality or anything pertaining to growing up, but you knew that you wanted to be with each other and love each other in every way possible. He didn’t care about your bulky glasses or your weight, or any other differences you had from the other girls in your grade. He cared about you, and he cared so much that no other thirteen year old boy could even begin to understand it.
“Really?” He couldn’t hide the relief in his voice, and you thought it was quite endearing.
“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding your head.
“Oh, cool.” He sighed, relaxing back into the mattress. His head was rested atop a pillow that constantly smelled of his shampoo, and it was the same one you always held closest to you while you slept. Sam was your entire world, and always had been. The proclamation of love changed nothing except for giving you another way to express the way you felt for each other. “So, what now?” He asked. You looked down at your hands, fingers already intertwined with each others. You already had your head resting on his arm, leaning against him to steal the warmth straight from his body. “Does it change anything?”
“No,” you shook your head. “I think this is it.”
The memory was gut wrenching, shooting daggers straight into your heart. You weren’t sure if it was your drunken stupor or your broken heart, but you felt another round of tears begging to be shed. You craved so badly to be those innocent kids again, to go back and do it right without breaking each others hearts, but it was impossible. You craved to love Sam without any pain, but you knew that the pain shared between you both was too large to ever let go of. You were afraid that love, especially when it came to Sam, was nothing but violence. Even if the good moments were fantastic, you could not hold on to hope for a lifetime full of hurt.
The creep of footsteps could be heard down the hallway, but you were too drunk to clean yourself up before you were thrown into confrontation. Whoever dared to impose could suffer the consequences of your sadness. When the body presented itself at the other end of the kitchen table, you looked up to meet the concerned eyes of your youngest sister. “Hey, bug.” You quickly wiped away your tears. “What are you doing awake?”
Correction: you were willing to impose your sadness on anyone as long as it wasn’t her.
“You were upset when you came home tonight,” she said, referring to the state you were in after the bar. “I was worried, I couldn’t sleep.”
“You don’t have to worry, Ellie.” You assured her, sniffling back another sob. Your relationship with her was strange. When she was born, you hated her so badly that you asked your parents to bring her back to the hospital. When she started to get a little older and you realized that she was there for good, you began to warm up to her. By the time she was in school, your parents were working a lot and you took care of her more often than not. Your oldest sister, Brooke, helped as much as she could until she went off to college, but she was a lot busier with her personal life than you were, so you were most often the babysitter. You watched her grow up as you did, too, and she was your whole world.
“I do, though.” She replied, dismissing your own dismissal. “You cried yourself to sleep, and now you don’t want to be in your bed. The only time you don’t like sleeping in your bed is when Sam’s done something wrong. I know it reminds you of him.” For a fifteen year old, she was incredibly observant. “I thought you guys stopped talking?”
“We did, and we aren’t going to start again. Just ran into him at the bar. I’ll be okay, though. I’m always okay.” You assured her, closing your eyes to stop any more tears from falling.
“You always take care of me, y/n. Let me take care of you for once.” She said, unwilling to give up. Without permission, she took a seat next to you at the table after grabbing you another bottle of water. “Just because it’s happened a long time ago doesn’t mean it you have to be over it.”
“He’s like the plague.” You sighed, soothing your irritated eyes with the cold skin on the back of your hands. “He just… takes over, and I don’t know how to get rid of him. I try to forget about him, and then something else makes me fall in love all over again.”
“He was your whole world.” She shrugged, wishing there was some magic answer to ease all of the hurt you were feeling. “I mean… I remember Sam being here all of the time. He was around just as much as you were. You were best friends. He was your first love and your first heartbreak. It only makes sense for it to still hurt.” You nodded, knowing that she was right but still feeling as if you should be over him. “Do you still love him?”
You laughed at the thought, an empty smile on your lips as you pondered the best way to describe the feeling.
“I… I don’t know what else to tell you, y/n. I just think that we’ve been doing this for so long… you’re all I know.” He explained, avoiding your eyes at all costs. Your heart was breaking more with each word, your sixteen year old self never having faced such a massive loss before.
“And that’s a bad thing?” You asked, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I mean, we always talked about forever, Sam. You’ve always been my forever; I don’t need to know anything else.”
“You’ll always be my forever, Rapunzel.” He finally looked up, also unable to bear the thought of not living a life alongside you. “Just… right now, I need some space.” After sixteen years of being inseparable, you were trying your best to digest the thought of not spending every day with him. It killed you, but you were not willing to sacrifice your dignity for something that was not worth it. If he wanted to leave, you would hold the door just to make sure it wouldn’t hit him on the way out.
“Okay.” You took a long gulp of air, holding your breath and holding in the sobs begging to be heard. You walked to your bedroom door, twisting the handle and pulling it open. You stood by, waiting for him to take the hint.
“Okay?” He asked, hurt by your lack of fight. “That’s it?”
“That’s it, Sam. If you want to go, then go.” You said, lip quivering at the thought of him walking out. “If you want to break up with me, do it, but you don’t get to be upset when I let you. Why would I fight for you when you don’t want to fight for me?” He watched your face, agony striking him at the thought of being the cause of your pain. After a moment of shared silence, he gave a slow nod.
“Friends?” He asked, taking a step towards you. You watched in disbelief, unsure if he really thought you could remain friends after such a conversation.
“Yeah, sure.” You lied, knowing that once he walked outside, you had no intent of ever letting him back in. He gave you a sad smile, wishing he could hug you but knowing that it was best to leave you alone. He wasn’t even fully into the hallway before you were rushing to close the door, tears pouring down your cheeks at the idea of being without him.
“Do you remember the first time we broke up?” You asked, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “I know you were young, but-“
“I remember.” She said, cutting you off. “It’s hard to forget. I don’t think I ever saw you like that before.”
“When he left, I swore that would be the end of it, but I knew I was still in love with him.” You explained. “Just like every time after that. He left, I promised I was done, and then I’d let him come back. I let him hurt me so many times until I couldn’t take it anymore, and I had to go. You’d think after all of this time I would have learned my lesson, but I saw him last night and all I wanted to do was let him come back… let him come home.” You chuckled, shaking your head at your own stupidity. “The only thing I know how to do is love him, and the only thing he knows how to do is hurt me.”
“Do you think he changed?” She asked, listening intently to your words.
“I was hoping he did. He looks different, he acts different… god, he even sounds different, but when I look at him, something in his eyes always reminds me that it’s the same old Sam. I know that he hasn’t changed, which is good in a way, but that also means he’s still the exactly same person I fell in love with all those years ago, which is horrible.”
“Again, Sam?” You were angry, that much was clear. He cowered under the weight of your emotions, barely prepared for the blowout waiting to happen. “You let me fall in love with you just so you could break up with me again?”
“I’m sorry, y/n.” He muttered, running a a hand through his hair. “I didn’t… I missed you so much as a friend. When we got back together, I was so happy to have you around again that I didn’t realize I’m still not ready for a relationship.”
“Senior prom is in two months, Sam! What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“I still want to go with you, Rapunzel. That was never a question.” He said, desperate to ease your worry. He reached a hand out to you, hoping that touch might calm your hurt, but you brushed him off without second thought.
“What if I don’t want to go with you? Did you think of that?” You snapped, not really meaning it, but even if you wanted to go with him, you knew it wasn’t good for you. Every time you let Sam come back around, he just seemed to hurt you more. The happiness of your childhood was long forgotten and replaced by all of the pain he’d caused you. Sometimes, it was hard to even imagine the simplicity the two of you once felt together. “You know what? Just go. I don’t have time for this.” You shook your head, realizing you were fighting a losing battle.
“I’m sorry, y/n.” He whispered, making a move to stand.
“I’m so sick of hearing that you’re sorry. Please go, and don’t try and come back. Im done, Sam.” You refused to look at him, completely missing the pain-stricken features of his face. He hated hurting you, yet it seemed like there was no way to resolve the issues without it. In hopes of avoiding any further trouble for you, he gave a small nod and turned to walk out of the room. Once again, you watched him walk away while deep down, you hoped that he would find his way back to you eventually. You were stuck, wishing so badly to escape the cycle, but more so than ever, it seemed like it was never ending.
You wished you could say that you stuck to your word, but when June of your senior year rolled around and nobody else peeked your interest as a prom date, you were left wondering why it would be so bad to go with Sam. You had always planned to do so, and you already had a dress that matched his tie. You wanted your last high school memory to be with your most important person, and it felt almost foolish to go with anyone else. So, with a shred of hope and a lot of courage, you asked Sam if he would still be willing to be your date to prom. He was ecstatic to accompany you and in truth, he was hoping you would change your mind after denouncing him from your life.
As friends, the two of you dressed to the nines and smiled through a night full of photographs. The awkwardness wore off almost immediately and you were back to your old selves, laughing over old memories and crying over your own stupidity. By the end of the night, you were both tipsy and reminiscing on the better times and confessing how miserable life was without each other. As if the stars had aligned perfectly to guide you into the darkest breakup of your life, a messy hookup cemented yours and Sam’s relationship as lovers once again. You graduated from high school and spent the entire summer immersed in each other. The air seemed different, more clear than it had been the last time you two had found your way back to each other. You had small fears about leaving for university, worried that your relationship was not strong enough to make it through the pressure of long distance, but it appeared that Sam was a changed man.
You spent your first year of university taking turns driving to see each other, spending every holiday glued together at the hip, and called whenever you had a spare minute. You survived your gruelling work with sweet messages from him and nights shared in your tiny dorm bed, and you were more in love with him than you ever thought to be possible. It was different than your younger years because back then, love didn’t mean all that much. You really didn’t know what it meant to love someone else so completely, and it all seemed a little silly in comparison to what you felt for him as you got older. He was your whole world, but even better than it was before. It seemed like the pain was obsolete, long forgotten and left in the past to die there. You both grew up, got out of your hometown and away from the same group of people who you saw every single day. It was a fresh start, something that you both desperately needed, and it served you well.
But, all good things must come to an end, and that time, the end was nothing short of catastrophic.
“Maybe you’re just too invested in the Sam you knew when you were kids.” She offered. “It’s been two years, y/n. If you still feel that way for him, maybe it’s worth a shot to try and get to know the new version of him.”
“I’d love to, but there’s something telling me that it’s just going to end the same way. It never seems like I can love him enough to make him want to stay.” Your voice cracked at the thought, the emotion too profound to hide. You loved Sam with every ounce of your heart and soul, but it never seemed like it was good enough for him, and it never mattered in the end, because he was bound to break you every time you let him get close.
“It’s up to you whether you want to talk to him or not. You know your heart the best, and you know him the best. If you don’t think it’s worth it, then please don’t give in to him. If you think he deserves another chance, then do it. Whatever you decide, I’ve got your back, and whatever you do, just don’t let him make you think that you’re not good enough, because it’s not true.”
“Thank you, bug.” You reached out for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You should get some sleep and stop worrying about me.”
“I always worry about you, and you always worry about me. It what we do.” She shrugged. “Are you going to bed, too?” You nodded, looking at the time displayed in green numbers on the stove.
“Yeah, probably should.” You said, but you were in no rush to get up and go. Your bed was haunting you with Sam’s memory, making it impossible to forget about him even in a slumber. His name was plastered on the walls and his face had seeped into the foundation, making it impossible to get away. He was the whole world, and you were just living in it. Everywhere you turned led you straight to another reminder of him, and it was sickening. But, even in the sickness, there was an odd comfort that came along with it. Being heartbroken over Sam had become the most consistent thing in your life, and being thrown so violently into it again, the familiarity made the stay more comfortable.
“If you can’t sleep, you can stay in my room.” She offered, a tired smile on her face. “Do you remember when we used to do that as kids?”
“Of course I do.” You chuckled. How could you forget? When your parents would fight, usually keeping everyone awake at night, she would sneak to your room to stay in bed with you. Usually, Sam was there, too. The three of you would always sleep soundly together in bed, no care about the lack of space or the uncomfortable positions because your company allowed for her to get some rest. When you and Sam would fight, you would find solace in her room because your own was too hard to be in. Back then, she didn’t know why you so often stayed the night in her room, and your tears would not fall until she was long asleep. When she started to get older, she understood better without you ever having to tell her.
“I’ll leave my door open just in case.” She promised, making a move to stand. “I love you.”
“I love you, El.” You gave a weak smile, watching as she disappeared up the stairs. It took you a while to find the courage to follow, but after a few moments, you made your way to your own bedroom. It felt like there was weights around ankles, dragging you down in hopes of delaying your return. Your bedroom was the last place you wanted to be, but you knew that after all you had overcome, you could conquer the last obstacle in your way of removing Sam from your life. Once you convinced yourself that his aura no longer lived inside your bedsheets, you would be better for it.
You closed your door softly behind you, letting out a long sigh to rid yourself of the looming torment of the night. You crawled into bed, checking the time once more to see that it was close to sunrise, now. You looked out at the sky, noticing the darkness slowly turning into purple and pinks. You let your head fall back on the pillow as you stared at the ceiling, noticing the pathetic illumination from the glow in the dark stickers you’d placed on it years ago. You let your eyes close, but your mind did not quiet even in the darkness.
Then, it came like a premonition of imminent disaster.
A weak thud sounded on the glass of your window, echoing through the entire room as if it was a noise so powerful it shook the foundation. But, it was not loud, nor was it anything that was truly attention grabbing. Perhaps the only reason you heard it so clearly was because you were listening for it, hoping it would happen. In truth, you could have ignored it and realized that it was likely due to nothing more than the wind blowing something against the glass, but your brain would not allow you to believe it was a coincidence.
It’s almost funny how the simplicity of a moment can appear so extravagant in our minds.
You slowly stood, cautiously approaching the sill with disbelief written all over you. With hope in your heart, you looked out into the night, first noticing the gentle sway of the tree line in the breeze. Your gaze drifted down towards the ground, eventually settling on an outline of a body. You blinked twice, just to be sure that the figure was still there after you refocused your eyes. You leaned closer to the glass, finding the features on his face break through the darkness with the utmost clarity. You flipped the lock, slowly sliding the window open as your heart swelled with affection. Even if you hated him, you could never seem to be mad when he showed up at your house with love in his eyes and hope in his heart.
“I didn’t know if you would answer, but I had to try.” He confessed, his voice a little raspy and his words ending with a slight slur.
“You’re drunk, Sam.” You whispered, but you couldn’t seem to turn him away.
“I know, I’m hammered.” He said, nodding his head. “Everyone told me I should go home, but I’m drunk, and I miss you, and this is the only home I know. You’re home, Rapunzel, and I’m so stupid for thinking otherwise.”
“Sam,” you sighed, almost wishing he never came. As much as you wanted to invite him inside, you knew it was a terrible idea.
“Please,” he pleaded, taking a step closer. He was so tall he could almost reach the windowsill himself without your help. “I know I don’t deserve anything from you, y/n, but I just want to talk.” You were frozen in place, unsure of how to handle the situation. You wanted to let him in, but you so badly wanted to tell him to leave and never come back. Every option was painful, and every decision was hard. You wished for once it could be easy with Sam, no matter which way it went. You just wanted it to be simple, for one decision not to be laced with regret or remorse. “Let your hair down? For old times sake?” He asked, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes.
You watched him, wondering if it was really him standing down there or if it was a figment of your drunken and delusional imagination. After a few seconds, you gave a small nod, popping the screen out of the window. You placed it on the floor and leaned down, holding your hands out for him to grab. He wasted no time responding, allowing you to pull him up just enough to grab the ledge. From there, he navigated the rest of the way himself. You took a step back, allowing him to move without worry of bumping into you. Once he was steady on his feet in front of you, you could see the emotion in his face. His eyes looked bloodshot, puffy just the same as yours were. He was exhausted, clearly going through just as much turmoil as you had that night.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, unsure why you even let him inside in the first place.
“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I know that you don’t want to see me, and I know why, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t just let you walk away again. I had to try, and even if you tell me to leave and that you never want to see me again, at least I know for sure.”
“Sam, we’re not… We’re not the same people, anymore. You can’t just show up at my window and expect me to let you inside. You can’t just say sorry and expect things to go back to normal.”
“But you did let me in. That counts for something, right?” You couldn’t argue with his logic, because you did allow him inside. As much as you would have liked to blame him for the ridiculous situation you had found yourself in, your own stupidity played a large part in the outcome. “Jake told me this was a terrible idea, and maybe he was right, but I got further than anyone thought I would.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Sam.” You mumbled. “You know I’ll always let you in.” You look to the floor, almost ashamed at the confession.
“And I appreciate that, even if I know I don’t deserve it.”
“You don’t,” you agreed “but you made the effort, so I have to give you that, at least.”
“I’m sorry, princess. For everything.”
“We’re long past that, honey.” You chuckled, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you pulled a blanket over your shoulders. “Why are you here?” You asked again, waiting for a real answer. So far, you had only grown more confused by his drunken rambling.
“I don’t know, to apologize?” He said, taking a seat in your computer chair. He had enough sense to know that his presence was not welcome on the bed with you. “When you told me we could go for drinks some other time, I knew you didn’t mean it. You planned to ignore every text and call until you went back to university, and then we’d never see each other again. I couldn’t risk that, because these last two years without you have been miserable.”
“You could have apologized two years ago.” You offered, feeling more awake than before. The anger rising in your heart was a great adrenaline boost, and you were ready to face him with all of the hurt you’d been feeling since the last time you saw him.
“I tried, you didn’t want to hear it.” He argued.
“I wonder why.” You rolled your eyes, astonished at his inability to own up to the truth. He was not the victim nor was he a saint; your lack of communication stemmed directly from his inability to grow up and be in a relationship, and he had no right to be upset about it.
“I don’t. I know why, y/n, but it doesn’t mean I liked it. I fucked up that night, and I have been living with that every day since. I’m trying to make it right, but it seems like you don’t want me to.”
“That night?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Sure, you put the nail in the coffin, but you fucked up plenty more times than just that night. You’ve been breaking my heart since we were old enough to understand what that meant. Maybe I don’t want to let you back in because I’m fucking terrified you’ll do it again.”
“I know.” He sighed, closing his eyes to regain his confidence. He could not express the guilt he felt for all he put you through, but he was trying his best to explain it. He did not want to argue, and he did not want to portray himself as angry, because he wasn’t. He deserved every harsh word that you were throwing his way. “I can’t take that back even if I wish I could, but I can tell you that I am so sorry I did that to you. You are the most wonderful person in the whole world; you’re my best friend, my soulmate, and I know that you’re the love of my life, even if I’m not yours anymore. I hate that I hurt you, and I hate that I don’t know how to fix it, but I still love you, y/n. My life has been empty, even if I’m travelling the world and doing what I love. At first, I wasn’t sure why, but now I know it’s because you’re not there with me. I miss you so much that it’s hard to think about anything else.” You watched him, curious about his profoundly disturbing confession. It was sweet, but it was not the Sam you knew. All those years ago, he was just a boy who had no idea how to express himself. Words were always difficult, and he never knew how to say I love you without lacing it into a joke.
Maybe, in some violent twist of fate, he really had grown up.
“How long have you been working on that one?” You asked, pulling the blanket tighter against your body.
“Two years.” He replied without hesitation.
“Two years and that’s all you’ve got?” You gave a small laugh, but this one was genuine. You looked up to meet his eye, the snide comment striking him odd until he saw the playful gleam in your face. “I expected more from you.”
“You know I’ve never been good at this stuff.” He found himself smiling, too. “So you’ve been thinking about me, too?”
“Stupid question.” You snipped. “You already know the answer.”
“Yeah, me too. Obviously.” He gave a nervous laugh. “I thought that you forgot about me. When I look at your Instagram, it just seems like you’re a whole different person. I’m happy you got out of here and you look like you’re doing okay. Your new friends seem cool, too, but I miss you and I wish I could be a part of that life, too.”
“You could have, Sam.” You reminded, not wanting to talk too much about the incident in which severed the ties between you. “But you do, too. I listened to some of your music off the new album. It’s fantastic, and I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.” He whispered, touched that you cared enough to listen to it despite your ill feelings towards him. “You’re almost finished school, now. Where are you going next?”
“I don’t know,” You shrugged, hating the small talk you had fallen into. You knew Sam too well for such simple formalities. “Away from here, but that’s all I really know.”
“You always wanted to get out of here,” he chuckled, recalling the endless conversations about your desire to leave the town behind. “Times finally come.” He couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness at the idea, knowing that once you packed your bags, you would never come back. There would be no late night sneaking around, no conversations about the future under the stars in your backyard. He was ecstatic for you to move on and start living, but he was also sad for the kids who used to dream about doing it together.
“It’s scary, but I’m ready.”
“You’ve been ready since you learned how to walk.” He corrected. “Do you want to leave me behind, too?” Your heart broke at the sight of the pain in his eyes, knowing that once you were gone, it could be the end of a lifetimes worth of love.
“Come on, Sam. We both know you left first, and a long time ago at that.” You muttered, nervously playing with the hem of the blanket. “Besides, knowing us, we’re bound to run into each other again somewhere. Just the way it works for us.”
“We don’t have to wait to run into each other again.” He said, begging to meet your gaze again. “We ran into each other tonight, and it has to be for a reason.” Your eyes flickered to his face, also in search of the familiarity, yet scared to see the foreignness.
“I think after all this time, we should know the reason is no good.” You tried to stand your ground, even if you wanted nothing more than to invite him in. It was wrong, and it would end so badly that you would never be able to pick up the broken pieces again. Loving Sam was painful, and your brain was begging you to remember that. Even when it was good, it seemed to hurt somewhere.
“I changed, y/n, and I really want to show you that. I still love you the same, but I’ll do it better this time, if you give me the chance.”
“We can’t just pretend that the past didn’t happen.” You shook your head, appalled that he was even suggesting it. “It’s too much Sam, and after everything, we should know that it’s never going to work.”
“I want to make it work, Princess. For you, I’d do anything. I know that I haven’t been the best, but I want to be the best, now. You deserve it, and I’m not saying I deserve another chance, but I would like to prove to you that you are my whole world.”
“I can’t… you can’t just come in here and expect me to forgive you and come crawling back again. It’s too much, and I’m better than that, now. I love you, but I can’t let you hurt me, again.”
“Just come out for dinner with me. Or drinks, or whatever you want. One night, just to hear what I have to say. No strings attached, just fun, like we used to do.” You watched him, unbelieving of his determination despite the pain he had caused. You loved him, that was certain, but after so long of loving someone and only being burned in response, you could not find that hope in your heart that you once had. The whole notion was ridiculous, and the fact that he’d shown up drunk at five in the morning to profess it was even worse. Sam had no ability to speak his truth when he was sober, and you feared that his courage would wear off when the morning came. Even worse than that, you feared that his drunken confession stemmed from the melancholic familiarity of seeing you, and not because he was genuine in his desire to try again.
You loved him, but it was not worth the risk. It hardly ever was, and you should have learned that years ago.
“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think that is a good idea.”
“Oh.” He breathed, the rejection staggering and cutting him like a knife.
“You should probably go home, Sam. It’s late and we’re drunk. We shouldn’t be doing this.” You said, trying to hide the sadness in your voice.
“Yeah, okay.” He nodded, standing without another word. “C-can I hug you? Just one last time?” You looked up, attempting to ignore the tears that were forming in his tired eyes.
“Yeah, sure.” You agreed, standing, too. You let the blanket fall from your shoulders, practically falling into his arms. Just because you knew he should leave did not mean you didn’t miss his touch. It was home, and you hadn’t felt it in a long time. Perhaps once you felt it again, you could finally come to your senses and realize it was no longer your hiding place, or a safe haven from the harshness of the world. Once his arms were around you and you were enveloped in the warmth and the familiar scent, you knew that you would never love anything more, and that’s exactly why you needed to stay away. You loved Sam so much that it was dangerous, because he did not know how to love you enough. No matter how many chances you gave him, that fact would never change.
Before he pulled away, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. He was aching all over knowing he might be leaving you behind forever, anguished at the fact that it might be the last hug he would ever have from you. “If you ever change your mind, Princess, you have my number.”
“I do.” You nodded, biting back your own tears. “Who knows, maybe someday it’ll be different.”
“I hope so, y/n.” He said, staring out the window and hating the sun that was rising in the sky. The day should never continue as normal when two people were hurting so badly. It seemed like a stab to an already open wound, and there was no sign of ever being able to stitch it back up.
“Bye, Sammy.” You whispered.
“See you later, Princess.” He said, taking one last breath of courage before climbing through the window. You watched as he descended to the ground, his feet firmly planting to the grass before he began his journey home. You waited until he was completely out of view before popping the screen back in place and locking the window shut, keeping out any more visitors and locking in all of your sorrow.
You climbed back into bed, the memory of him still latched onto your mattress and buried in the pillows. You knew that not even time could rid him from the place, because after so many years, it was more his than it was your own. You wiped the tears away from your cheeks, feeling no sympathy for yourself despite the overwhelming ache that settled in your chest. Your hurt was solely because of your own inability to control yourself around Sam; after all, he could not cause any pain if you did not allow him to, and allowing him to hurt you had become your favourite pastime. Opening that window for him was nothing but an excuse to worsen your suffering. The temporary fix for your loneliness was barely enough to take away from the lasting damage his company always seemed cause. Nothing had changed except for the maturity of your faces, and even if you hated to admit it, it never would.
You tossed and turned, begging for a second of sleep, but you were haunted by the interaction that appeared to be completely innocent. Then again, innocence is a thing that neither of you had when it came to each other, and just like your mother used to tell you, nothing good ever happens after 2am. You knew it to be painfully true, but it was even more so when it came to Sam Kiszka. You had opened the door to a whole other world of trouble, and now you couldn’t seem to latch it shut. Even when you managed to drift into sleep, your mind was still plagued with memories of the boy you were begging to forget.
TAGLIST: @itsafullmoon @freefallthoughts @lightsofthe-living-gvf @heckingfrick @sagekiszka
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How about Sammy getting all excited because you’re giving him a special gift you’ve been hiding from him? 🥰
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yes. yes. YES. its his birthday, we've got to do this one.
Preparation had begun many weeks ago, when you first wrote out the plan for how you wanted Sammy's birthday night to go. Fairy lights, dinner on the porch, and of course, his birthday gift! The whole shebang. While you had begun becoming rather reserved and secretive as the days inched closer to his special day, Sam grew more and more anxious to know what was going on.
"Oh, come on, Doll, Can't you just tell me what's going on?" He begged, leaning against the kitchen counter as you made breakfast one day. It was the week before his birthday, and he had been growing rather anxious to know what you were up to.
"You can wait a week." You giggled, flipping the pancakes that sizzled on the skillet.
Well before his actual birthday, you treated him like a prince. In all honestly, you couldn't help yourself. He was always so sweet to you, it was in your natural nature to give him special treatment, even if it was a week before his big day. You made him breakfast, took him out on little day trips, and made sure to cuddle up close to him when the night came.
He groaned gently, his brows furrowed as he crossed his arms. "Could I at least get a piece of bacon for the troubles?"
You shook your head with a laugh, handing him one of the prepared slices that you had already finished cooking. Ever since you had pledge to go vegan with Sam, you had been practicing all of his favorite recipes. You found that cooking rice paper with certain seasonings and syrups grew to taste like your favorite piece of breakfast cuisine.
Once you finished up breakfast, the two of you sat and ate, listening to the record that ran in the next room over. "Is it.. a surprise party with the boys?"
"Nope."
"A camping trip?"
"Nope"
"Is it a--"
"Samuel. Hush."
"Finee." He grumbled, finishing off his orange juice. You admired him as the sun from the window shined down on his tanned skin. How did you get so damn lucky? He was like a dream come true, and you had the pleasure of spoiling him when they time finally came.
April 3rd.
It was finally time. The day started off just as any other day had-- the two of you tangled in each other's arms, a nice warm breakfast, cuddling on the couch. When the afternoon finally neared, you sent Sam out to get some wine of his choice from the store to get a chance to set up. The second he had left the house, you were stringing up the fairy lights, finishing off dinner, and setting up a nice candlelit table for the two of you. You had slipped on your dress just before he had arrived. As you heard the jingling of his keys just outside the door, you stood, readily awaiting his entrance.
As the door finally creaked open, he stopped, looking around in awe. You could hardly tell if the look on his face was confusion or absolute shock. "Happy Birthday, Darling.."
Sammy shut the door behind him, his lips curving into a gentle smile. He could hardly get a word out as he looked around, holding the bottle of wine to his chest, "Baby.." He finally got out. His eyes finally met with yours as he stepped forward. "This is beautiful.. Thank you.." He said gently, his open hand wrapping around your waist, leaning down to kiss you gently.
As you slowly pulled away, you took his hand in yours, guiding him to the dining table which was elegantly set. "Anything for the birthday boy!" You grinned, sitting down opposite of him.
"Seriously, honey, thank you." He smiled, admiring you as you began to pour each of you a glass of wine.
The two of you began to dig in to dinner-- Sam leaning back in his chair out of pure delight. "This is wonderful.." He hummed gently, savoring each bite of his meal. "I'm glad that you like it. I've had this all planned out for nearly a month now.." You explained, taking a sip from your glass.
Finally, as the two of you finished off your supper, you stood, Sam's eyes following you intently. You went to the nearby shelf that held all of his favorite records, pulling one down before setting it on the turn-table. "Music and dinner?" He asked curiously, perking up as he watched you place the needle. "You bet." You hummed, walking over to the table, holding a hand out to him. "Come on, Birthday Boy.." He looked up to you for a moment before taking your hand, following as you led him to the livingroom. You began to sway with him gently to the beat of the music.
"This is nice.." He whirred, placing his hands on your hips gently, following your lead. As the two of you swayed together, you rested your head against his shoulder, smiling wide. He left a gentle kiss against the top of your head, humming along to the tune.
"I love you, Sammy.."
"I love you, darling." He murmured, holding you close. You listened as he began to softly sing along to the lyrics of the James Taylor album. His soft voice vibrated against you as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. As the song slowly came to an end, you looked up to him. "This isn't the last of your celebration." You teased gently. His eyes widened as he whined, "I knew this wasn't it! You've been too sneaky lately.."
You slowly shifted away, gesturing for him to sit on the couch. "What is it?" He asked curiously. You could tell that he was attempting to be contained, but his excitement was about to burst. "Oh, come on! Just tell me already!" He begged. You walked upstairs for a moment, leaving him drenched in suspense. Finally, you came back to the living room, carrying a large box with you. Setting the wrapped box down in front of him, he raised a brow. "You are so devious." He chuckled.
"Go ahead, darling. Open it."
Without any hesitation, Sam tore the wrapping paper from the rectangular box, throwing it off to the side. As he ripped back the paper, a large logo was revealed that read 'Fender'. His eyes lit up as he looked up to you. "Is this what I think it is?"
"Keep going!!" You encouraged, watching as he opened up the cardboard. Once the box was open, he took the foam exterior off, exposing the new tan jazz bass beneath. The gleam of excitement twinkled in his eyes as he picked it up, admiring the new instrument.
"Baby, this is amazing! I've been looking at this one for months now!" He practically squealed, looking over to you. "Thank you so much.. For all of this, Really. I couldn't ask for a better birthday." He assured.
You leaned over, pulling him into a gentle kiss before he escaped away to test out his new bass.
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dannythedog · 2 years
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THE FLUFF 35 my bad bro
Prompt list here
35. "You didn't think you'd be able to get rid of me just yet did you?"
*I apologize in advance for this being ass
The day had finally come. Sammy was being jetted off to another state to start his new tour. He'd been home for a few months and to say it was Heaven would be an understatement. You two spent the days wrapped up in each other, never separating until you absolutely had to, hiking through beautiful Tennessee trails, cute lunch dates, and plenty of lazy days spent in sweats and gorging on junk food. Your own personal oasis.
Your reminiscing was interrupted by Sam slapping his thighs and standing from the bed. "I guess it's time for me to head out. Are you sure you can't drop me off at the airport? I hate getting on a plane without one last kiss," he pouts.
"I'm sorry, Sammy," you frown and gaze into those big brown eyes that were so hard to say no to. "I really wish I could. You know I'm there every chance I can get, but I can't get out of this shift. My boss has been coming down on me hard since I've been taking so many days off."
Since Sam was home, you took off as many days as you could to spend time with him. Your boss was really understanding and you truly enjoyed your job, but she'd been getting strict with vacation time since numbers were down as of late.
Sam gives you a sad smile and picks up his bags. He'd been begging you to come with him on this tour, even suggesting that you quit your job and let him take care of you. That wasn't something you'd consider because it would feel too much like mooching.
"Well, give me one last kiss before I go. I'm gonna miss you so much." You arms wrap around his neck as you lean up to kiss him. You held him there as long as you could, tasting his coconut chapstick and threading your fingers through his silky tresses. It's too soon when he pulls away and sluggishly moves to the front door.
"Hey, the time will fly by and we'll see each other soon, okay?" you say, trying to remain optimistic for his sake. "You're gonna have the time of your life out there."
The way he's looking up at you through his lashes and his head tilts downward reminds you of when you leave for work and your puppy watches through the window, silently pleading to go with you. "I know. I'll just miss you so much. Call me every single day, okay? I love you, y/n."
"And I love you so so much," you coo and place a quick peck to his cheek. "I'll call when I can. Have fun!" With that he slips out the door and into the Uber that was surprisingly patient. You watch as the car pulls away, excitement building in your chest. The plan was in action.
You dash to your bedroom to throw items in your suitcase that you couldn't put away without Sam getting suspicious. You had been lying to him for weeks now. Work wasn't being strict at all, in fact your boss had given you three weeks paid leave to go travel with him for all your hard work and you couldn't be more excited.
It felt like your heart raced the entire car ride to the airport. Security was slow and your adrenaline made it feel even slower. The building was stuffy and hot, hoards of people were shoving and getting grumbly, but that didn't deter your mood. You were so close to seeing those beautiful eyes light up.
Luckily the gate wasn't too far away so you wouldn't be out of breath from practically running to him. He was sat in a corner with his brothers, headphones in and full lips pulled into a pout. The sight nearly made your heart burst. You knew he was upset about leaving you and your lack of response to his texts was upsetting him more, but it was about to be so worth it.
Calmly, you made your way to him and stood directly in front of him waiting for him to look up. After about thirty seconds of no reaction, Danny reaches over and tugs an earbud out of Sam's ear. "Dude, I think someone wants to see you."
Sam slowly looks up, surely expecting a fan, and nearly drops his phone at the sight of you. His mouth opens and closes a few times making him look like a fish out of water. "Y/N? What the hell are you doing here? I thought work was going to be mad if you came?"
"You didn't think you'd be able to get rid of me just yet did you?" You grin, plopping in the empty seat next to him. "I'll be traveling with you for a while."
"Oh, you little shit!" He playfully growls and scoops you into his arms.
"But I'm your little shit!"
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sacredthefran · 2 months
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Just thinking about going to the beach with Sam :(
Sam would make the day perfect for the two of you - packing a picnic so the two of you could watch the sunset as you munch on all your favorite snacks. Sam and you would walk the shoreline for awhile, even though the water is freezing he would walk into it and turn around trying to beckon you to come near him.
“Baby! Come on!”
“Samuel, I said no.”
“It’s not that bad! You just have to get used to it.”
Giving him a smirk and rolling your eyes, you turn away from him, heading back to where the picnic basket and your shoes are laid out. You should’ve known better than to turn your back to him - two long arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you gently and giving you a little twirl. Sam was giggling like a madman pulling you over to the shore line.
“Just get your feet wet…please.” He turned to look at you with his puppy dog eyes; knowing you couldn’t resist them.
“Okay, okay.”
His smile was infectious as he scanned your eyes for a few seconds before leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.
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starfall-jade · 1 year
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Just had this thought….girl dad Danny gets a ton of love, but what about girl dad Sam? I feel like Sam would just be a sucker for anything his kid wanted him to do. She wants to paint his nails? Only her favorite color of course. She wants to have a tea party? Where’s his tutu and tiara. Two hour sessions where she’s trying to braid his hair? He’ll get the knots out later. I just feel like he would be so smitten with having a little girl and she would definitely have him wrapped around her finger.
I live here now🥰
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caravelmp3 · 1 year
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I love all the soft imagines sm 🥺 but I'm also a hoe for some angst, will you potentially do any angsty pieces in the future?
i was in a Mood tonight, so here's a little something :) 
THERE'S A PIECE OF YOU IN HOW I DRESS
pairing: sam kiszka x f!reader
warning(s): alcohol consumption & smoking, a reference to sex
word count: 1.4k
synopsis: reader meets her ex-boyfriend at a bar and realizes he's wearing the sweater she has been looking for since they split but oh god he's still hot and charismatic as ever
note: my first sam fic ever babie !!! insert my longest yeah boy ever. i sometimes imagine sam as the insufferable ex that you tend to miss a lot, so that's a bit of inspo here. all other inspo & title is from cherry by harry styles. anyways i whipped this up in like two hours and did not proofread it but i hope you all enjoy <333
You threw back the shot of vodka to much of your friends' pleasure, a cheer followed their pleas as the bottom of the shotglass turned up towards the ceiling. Their cheers fell upon deaf ears as you focused on the burn in the back of your throat and wiped the spilled vodka from the corner of your mouth. With the slam of the shotglass back on the table, you sat back in your chair and returned your attention to the friend group surrounding you.
“See! Doesn’t it make you feel better?”
Your nose scrunched as you fought off the attempt to let out a burp. “Sure,” you replied with a hand to your chest while suppressing the belch.
It had been a long work week, and even though you desperately needed a drink, vodka was typically your last choice. But the bar - a small dive on the east side of town, didn’t have your preferred go-to, so you settled for whatever could ease your nerves the fastest. So vodka it was.
Everyone returned to their drinks of choice and fell back into normal conversation - work, life, their other friends, upcoming trips that had been booked for months. You sipped on the gin and tonic and watched as your friend Phoebe whipped her phone out of her purse, and then her head snapped up to look at the door, a smile immediately spreading across her face.
“There she is!” She shouted.
You turned and watched as a mutual friend cut through the bodies lingering by the booths at the door and headed for the table. You instinctively stood and met your friend for a hug, rocking her back and forth, and then you asked about her usual plus one;
“Where’s Jamie?”
“He’s outside, parking across the street.”
You nodded and let her pass you to greet your other friends. With a quick glance around the table you noticed that the shot tray was filled with empty glasses.
“I’ll go get another round. Vodka?”
Phoebe tutted and then looked at everyone, throwing out options. “What about tequila? Whiskey?”
“Fuck sake, no,” Julien, from across the table, shook her head at the idea of whiskey on top of vodka. The look on her face seemed a lot like yours. “Let’s do another round of vodka.” And everyone around agreed.
You felt your stomach flip at the idea but you agreed to keep the morale and unity alive. You moved through the crowd and landed at the mahogany bar. A bartender took your order with ease and moved to grab a bottle of Tito’s from the shelf.
To avoid conversation and those packed tightly around you, you checked your phone, taking note of a couple missed texts and app notifications, but nothing out of the ordinary. When you pocketed your phone to grab the platter slid across the bar to you, you heard loud laughter carry from the opposite side of the room, and you instinctively glanced over to see another large group of friends, and you make a mental note that one of them is wearing a sweater similar to the one you had.
And then you paused, fingers clenching the plastic platter tightly. You hadn’t seen that sweater in months. And then you recognized one of the intermingled laughs. Fucking Samuel. An ex-lover, an ex-boyfriend. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you felt your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. Or maybe it was the vodka.
After finally finding control of your body again, you walked back across the bar, past the table where Sam sat with friends, and with another glance, his brothers, too. You saw one of them look at you, and then Sam turned too, but you tried your best to ignore him further as you sat the platter of shots down onto the table where your friends sat, to much of their pleasure. You said a brief hello to Jamie who had joined them, and then you felt like you were desperate for a second alone.
“I’ll be right back - gonna step out for a smoke.” You told them and they all nodded. They quickly agreed to wait for you and you nodded, making a quick grab for your jacket and purse to head for the back door.
Sliding on your jacket as you walked through the room, you heard someone call out your name under the loud music, but you ignored them. You emerged outside to a back patio of the bar mostly closed off due to the weather, but smokers would come and go to avoid standing out on the busy street out front.
Fucking Sam. Of course he would be here. After all, you two lived on the same side of town and he had told you about the bar before, saying that it was one of his favorites, but you hadn’t considered the possibility of him actually being there that night. You now wished he was on tour, that he had fucked off all the way across the country, just as long as he wasn’t around you.
You tossed your bag onto a picnic table and reached inside, fishing for your cigarette pack, but you couldn’t find it while blindly searching.
“I got a cigarette if you need one,”
You paused your movements and lifted your eyes to the stars beyond the string lights above your head. You knew you were going to have to face him, you just didn’t want to. If you could fall through the ground, now would be the best time. But instead you cleared your throat, flung your bag on your shoulder, and turned to him standing behind you.
Sam, the same Sam you knew far too well, stood near the back door with an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips and a pack open, held in your direction. You eyed the pack - turquoise American Spirits - and nodded. That hadn’t changed, they were all he smoked. 
You reached out and took a cigarette from the pack and used the lighter from your pocket to ignite the end. Then all bets were off. You took a quick draw from the cigarette and then said;
“So, that’s where my sweater went…” you motioned to the dark pink sweater he was wearing, the cuffs rolled at his wrist, his necklaces hanging over the collar like it was something he wore all the time, something he was comfortable in.
You watched him drop his head down to look at the sweater, and then he rubbed at the soft material.
You had bought the sweater at a second-hand shop in town, it was your favorite. You wore it all the time - to work, to the store, to sleep in. And you had left it on Sam’s bedroom floor a dozen times, which now, you realized was the last place you saw it.
For months you searched high and low through your own closet, through the entire apartment, and you had chalked it up to Julien stealing it and leaving it in her car, but now you realize that your ex-boyfriend had been the one wearing it the whole time. 
The shitty thing is that he looked good in it. It complimented his eyes that twinkled in the lights strung above your heads. You hated that he pulled it off. 
You hadn’t seen him since the day you packed up your things from his place - his hair had grown out longer, he had shaved the stubble that was growing out at the time you two called it quits. You hated that he still looked good. And he looked good wearing your sweater. Unbelievable. 
“Oh, yeah, I mean, I didn’t think there was any point in throwing it out.”
You nodded, tongue guiding across your teeth. “Didn’t cross your mind to give it back to me?”
“Well, you aren’t exactly keen on answering texts or phone calls, you know.” Sam quipped and you shifted your body away from him to blow the inhaled smoke from your mouth. You knew he had tried to get a hold of you. “And it’s not like you threw out my Patagonia fleece.”
You whipped your head back to him, eyebrow raised. “What?”
“Oh come on,” he shot you a grin that you were almost tempted to smack off his face, “I saw you wearing it in a picture Phoebe posted of you.”
“Are you still stalking me on Instagram, Samuel?” That was all you got from it, at least, all your ears caught.
Sam grew bashful and then it was your turn to grin at him. “Whatever,” he said and then asked, "anyway, can I borrow a light? I forgot mine.”
You grumbled and pulled the lighter out of your pocket and tossed it to him. He caught it perfectly, cupped his other hand, and lit the end of his cigarette. He handed it back to you with an amused grin, licking at his lips, and you creased your brow in confusion before he motioned to the lighter. You looked down at the white lighter in your palm, the words written across the plastic in black marker - if you wanna fuck, smile when you give the lighter back.
You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re fucking insufferable,"
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kissthesun-gvf · 1 year
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My Sam
INTRO: after the NFT commotion of today, I felt like we could all use some Sammy fluff, so here's something that's been in my drafts for a bit :)
“It’s always prince Sam or baby Sam or Sammy boy or whatever shit Josh and Jake can cook up. Even before the band I was just the little brother or the youngest Kiszka. But that’s not me, you know? That’s not who I am, that’s not all I am.” Sam had been pacing around your bedroom for nearly half an hour after you coaxed him into discussing what was on his mind. Logically, you knew that nobody in his life was trying to put him in a box or make him feel small, he simply happened to be the youngest child. But after various moments like this with Sam you knew that listening to him was more important than logic right now. He stood facing away from you, leaning up against the dresser. You made eye contact with him through the mirror, noticing the tears welling up in his eyes as he opened up to you. “Sammy, honey, please come here.” You gestured him to join you in bed and he complied, laying on his back with his back against the headboard. “You’re none of those things to me, Sam,” you continued, turning to sit cross-legged and face him. “You’re not the twins’ little brother. You’re the kid who was a giant goof the entirety of high school and still found a way to keep a 4.0. You’re Sam Kiszka, who managed to get a date out of being my lab partner. And then a second date, because you got us an A on a bogus lab report,” you paused to share a smile and reached up to run your thumb across his cheek and clear away the tears staining his face. “You’re the guy who convinced me to come see his band play downtown, and quickly became my Sam,” you leaned in to kiss his nose before continuing. “And even when you ditched me senior year to go tour, you were still my Sam. And you still are. My sweet, kind, intuitive, genius,” you punctuated each adjective with a kiss across his face. “My Samuel.” He grinned at your speech, and you leaned in again to rest your forehead against his. “I know it’s hard for you to block out the idea of how other people might be perceiving you. But I think you’re incredible, Sammy. And I know your brothers do too. That’s got to count for something, right?” He kissed you back as a response. You both sat in silence for a moment and took in the sounds of your breaths mixing together. “Come with me,” Sam whispered. “Tour. Come with me. It won’t be the same without you, and I already talked to the guys, and-” You cut him off with another kiss. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, Samuel,” you smiled.
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