Greta Van Fleet // Oneshots

Back From the Dead // Sam Kiszka [angst ft. smut]

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~6700

Warnings: lots of angst & tears (Sam really is my token boy for that lmao sorry to my Sam girls <3); some sexual content (PIV--18+)

Another post-concert Sam fic. Hope you enjoy <3

---

Countless photos and videos of the boy who broke your heart, the boy who you loved so much it made you sick, continued to assault you day after day, month after month. You couldn't help but become transfixed despite how it made your chest ache so deeply–Sam in shimmering cream, backlit by pillars of orange flame. Sam in glittering crimson, dripping jewels. Each photo and video captured that natural charm, that honed magnetism, all of that slick seduction that had won you over so long ago, and you were left feeling whiplashed with each scroll.

When the end came, your friends all told you that you were better off without him. They tried to raise you back up, tried to paint you as the victor despite you feeling like you'd lost the most precious thing in your life. You'd tried to rally along with their support but you never really felt it, not for one second. And as the months dragged on, your quiet heartache and gray despondency became old. Your friends didn't want to hear about it anymore, not for one more second. You couldn't blame them. You were sick of your own thoughts that tormented you–no matter what you did with your days, Sam was at the forefront of your mind, always.

Not even sleep was much of an escape. You dreamed about him frequently, in situations that were nonsensical sometimes, but sometimes in situations where he'd come back to you. Sometimes the dreams erased the breakup entirely and there you two were, together like nothing had ever happened. Then you'd wake up covered in sweat and chilled with grief, your heart once again like a dead-weight in your rib cage.

Summer was here, but instead of feeling excited for beach days, boat rides, barbeques and all the weekend trips that had been tacked onto your calendar, you just felt the same old familiar grief and desperation. You were so exhausted from the pain that came from that horrible breakup that had come out of nowhere, a pain that should have left you long ago.

Of course, despite the clear blue skies and beaming sunshine as you drove to meet your friends–yet another gathering that wouldn't distract you–your thoughts found Sam and that final day with him. You never thought you'd beg any man for anything but when he'd dropped the bomb, you'd begged him not to, to take it all back, to just stay, to work it out. Because you loved him too much and truly couldn't imagine your life without him. And you'd said all of that–you'd laid your heart out on the line, vomited your love, adoration and commitment up, but it hadn't mattered. Sam said it was over, so it was.

What made it so much worse was that you couldn't even talk to him. You'd given up quickly–he'd made it clear that friendship was not part of the breakup package. For a little while, you'd held onto hope that he would reach out and at least mend that. But he never did, and it was another hard thing to accept. But what was harder was how everyone else in the world got to see him and experience him every night and it didn't take long before you found yourself scrolling through apps just to see his digital beauty in the palm of your hands since you couldn't have the real thing anymore.

The evening at the beach with your friends moved slowly. You tried, as always, to smile, to laugh, to match everyone else's energy. But the cold drink in your hand only reminded you of how much you missed Sam's warm hand holding yours; the blazing sunset, brilliant and beautiful reflected in the lake, only made you think of the flames that reflected in Sam's dark eyes each night. The sand beneath your bare legs and feet only made you want the sensation of his silky skin against your own, and when you brought a cigarette to your lips, you knew you could still feel the long-lost ghost of one of his kisses. You'd never feel that again, you reminded yourself for the millionth time, and it almost made you cry right there.