#Catfish and the bottlemen angst

[homesickwhispers]

hotel. (part 1.)

(Van x Reader.)

When the tour bus breaks down unexpectedly, you and Van find yourselves sharing a tiny hotel room in the middle of nowhere.

a bit of angst, a bit of fluff ..this story is actually longer and if you guys like it i can post the part 2, its very sweet and i loved writing it 💜<3 love to all! Xx

We were in the middle of tour—exhausted but excited. The energy was palpable as we rolled toward Texas, the promise of a day off looming just ahead. After the whirlwind of shows and travel, the thought of a day to unwind felt like a sweet reward.

Me and the crew planned on getting there a day earlier, so the band and the team could relax a bit from the tension of the past days.

Me, Van, and some of the roadies were huddled together in the common area of the bus, The low hum of chatter surrounded us, but I found myself drawn to the window, gazing out at the endless stretch of road and the barren landscape beyond.

I could feel Van’s gaze on me, a warmth that made my heart race despite the chaotic situation. He had a way of looking at me that made it seem like I was the only person in the room, or in this case, the bus.

As the minutes passed, the bus suddenly made a loud clunking sound, followed by an unsettling series of rattles that made my heart drop. Before I could even register what was happening, the bus veered slightly to the side, coming to an abrupt stop on the lonely stretch of road.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, glancing out the window at the desolate landscape. Dust swirled around us, and the horizon stretched endlessly in both directions, a stark reminder of how far we were from civilization.

I got up from my seat as fast as I could, leaving Van and the boys behind. My heart raced as I pushed my way through the cramped space of the bus, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

When I reached the front, I found the driver staring out at the horizon, his brow furrowed with concern.

“I’ll check (Y/N), but I’ll tell you right now, it doesn’t look very good,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Might need to rearrange the lads somewhere else.”

After a few minutes, it was confirmed.

The bus had broken down, leaving the 20 of us stranded on some lonely stretch of road.

I sighed, running my hands trough my hair in frustration, as me and the driver called every company we could think of to find someone who could fix the damn thing.

“Come on, there has to be someone out there who can help us,” I muttered, my patience wearing thin. After what felt like hours, we finally managed to track down a mechanic who could send someone to us. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something. I asked the crew to make their way to the nearest hotel while I stayed behind to coordinate the repairs.

Once I arrived at the hotel, a sense of relief washed over me but it was soon taken away.

It had just hit me that instead of coming back to the usual comfort of our tour bus, we found ourselves checking into a tiny hotel that looked like it had seen better days.

As I was away, the band and crew had thrown together a quick list, figuring out who would share rooms for the night. I smiled at the woman in the lobby as she showed me the names, indicating that the boys were already upstairs.

And I..I got paired with Jamie.

I tried to keep my face neutral when I saw the name, not wanting to make a thing out of it. Jamie and I had a difficult relationship. He was one of those people that made life a bit more complicated for women in the music industry. Always second-guessing me, asking me not to touch anything at the stage as if I was a toddler.

We had a bit of tension, but I never snapped back at him. And I don’t think anyone ever noticed it, leading to them thinking it was completely acceptable for us to be roommates.

But when I opened the door to my room, I stopped short, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest. Van was there, standing by the window, his bag already tossed casually on the chair.

“Hey… what happened? Why are you here?” I asked, trying to sound casual despite the sudden tightness in my chest.

He turned around, a soft smile on his face, as if he’d been expecting my reaction. “Jamie and I switched rooms,” he said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Thought it’d be better for everyone involved.”

“Oh,” I replied, trying not to overthink the comment. My mind raced with a million questions, but all I could manage was that one little word.

And then I remember, Van wasn’t anyone. He noticed. Way too much.

“Are you cool with it?” Van asked, his voice calm, though I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for my reaction.

“Yeah, yeah,” I nodded quickly, trying to sound casual, but my voice came out a little too fast. “Thank you,” I added, a nervous smile tugging at my lips as I shuffled awkwardly into the room, avoiding his gaze.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence felt like it was stretching forever. My heart was racing, and I could feel my hands slightly trembling as I fumbled with my bag.

“Do you need help with that?” he asked, his eyes flicking down to my hands as I struggled with the zipper on my bag.

I glanced up at him, feeling a little flustered. “No, it’s fine,” I said, my voice betraying the nervousness I was trying to hide. “I’ve got it.”

But as I said it, the zipper snagged again, and I let out a quiet sigh.

Without a word, Van stepped closer, his fingers brushing against mine as he gently took the bag from me. “Let me,” he murmured, effortlessly fixing the zipper. His closeness made it harder to breathe, and I had to remind myself to relax.

“Thanks, Van,” I said, taking the bag back from him, my fingers lingering on the fabric a moment longer than necessary. “If you want the shower, I still need to unpack some stuff.”

He smiled, that easy, casual smile that always seemed to throw me off balance. “Yeah, I’ll go first, then.” He grabbed a change of clothes from his bag and headed to the bathroom.

The door clicked shut, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. What was it about being in the same room as him that made me feel so… jittery? I tried to distract myself by unpacking, but my mind kept drifting back to Van, just a few feet away behind that door.

I could picture him in the bathroom, his usual relaxed, carefree demeanor, probably humming to himself under the water like he always did on the bus. I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts aside, but they lingered stubbornly.

Minutes passed, and the bathroom door finally opened with a quiet creak. Van stepped out, steam curling around him, his hair damp and a towel slung over his shoulder. He gave me a quick smile, seemingly unaware of the whirlwind of thoughts still swirling in my head.

“All yours,” he said, his voice casual, as if this whole situation wasn’t affecting him at all. I wished I could say the same.

“Thanks,” I muttered, grabbing my things a little too quickly and heading for the bathroom, my heart pounding in my chest. Once inside, I closed the door and leaned against it, trying to steady myself.

Why was it so hard to act normal around him? I splashed some water on my face before stepping into the shower, hoping the warm water would clear my head. But even with the shower running, my thoughts were stuck on Van—on how close we were, on how being near him was starting to feel like more than just a casual friendship.

I finished up, putting on a black shirt and leggings, and taking a deep breath before opening the door. Van was sitting on the edge of one of the beds, scrolling through his phone like nothing in the world was bothering him.

“Feel better?” he asked, glancing up at me with that familiar, easygoing smile.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice a little more even now. I crossed, trying not to overthink every small interaction. But as I moved past him, our eyes met for just a second longer than normal, and I knew he felt it too—the tension that had been growing between us, unspoken but undeniable.

I caught myself scrolling trough my phone, the quiet between us more noticeable than ever. It wasn’t awkward exactly, just… heavy, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air between us. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing, or if I was just imagining it all.

“Do you want to watch something?” Van’s voice broke the silence as he held up the remote, his tone casual. “They’ve got a few channels, at least.”

“Sure,” I said, grateful for the distraction. I sat on the other bed, a safe distance away, and watched as he flipped through the channels, landing on some random show.

But as the minutes ticked by, I barely registered the screen. All I could feel was the pull between us, stronger now that we were alone in this tiny hotel room, with no bus or crew to act as a buffer. I wondered how much longer we could ignore it.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Van’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, his brows knitted in concern. “I can turn off the TV if you want to sleep.”

I blinked, realizing I’d been zoning out again. “No, it’s okay,” I said softly, my voice a little shaky. “You can watch it. I think I’ll just lay down a bit.”

Van didn’t hesitate. He turned off the TV and glanced at the small gap between our two beds. “Do you want to push our beds together? We could fake a queen size.”

My heart skipped a beat. It was such a simple suggestion, but the thought of being closer to him made me nervous. Still, I found myself nodding. “Yeah, I guess it would be nice to have a bit more space.”

Without missing a beat, Van stood up and pushed the beds together, the legs scraping lightly against the floor. He gave me a small smile, as if sensing my hesitation. “There, that’s better.”

I climbed into the bed, lying on one side, trying to keep a safe distance even though the space between us had just vanished. Van followed suit, settling on the other side, but the room felt smaller now. It was hard to ignore how close we were.

I tossed and turned in the small hotel bed, my mind racing as I struggled to find a comfortable position. Knowing that Van was a few inches away from me, wasn’t exactly helping as well.

Finally, I gave up and let out a soft sigh. I could hear him shifting beside me, the faint glow of his phone screen illuminating his face in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and laced with concern.

“Yeah, I think I’ll just smoke a bit,” I said, walking toward the tiny balcony attached to the hotel room. The cool night air beckoned me, a welcome contrast to the warmth inside.

“Mind if I join you?” Van called from the other side of the bed, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Not at all,” I replied, glancing back at him, trying to sound casual.

As we both stepped onto the balcony, the tension between us seemed to ease a little. The space barely fit one person, let alone two, and as we squeezed in together, I couldn’t help but chuckle. We were practically pressing against each other, our bodies uncomfortably close, yet it felt oddly comforting.

“Wow, this is cozy,” he said, grinning down at me. His breath was warm against my skin, and I found myself leaning in slightly, despite the crowded space.

“Cozy is one way to put it,” I laughed for the first time in the night, taking out my cigarette and lighting it, the flame flickering in the soft breeze. “But I think they could have made the balcony a little bigger.”

“Well, I like this.” He says looking at the dark sky in front of us.

I looked up at him, my heart pounding. “You like being crammed onto a tiny balcony with me?”

“I like being here with you,” he clarified, his gaze steady and searching. “I like the way it feels when it’s just us, even if it’s crowded.”

In that moment, surrounded by the few city lights and the scent of smoke, the world felt like it had narrowed down to just the two of us, and I could feel the connection tightening like a thread, ready to snap at any moment.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, his voice low and a little hesitant.

“Sure,” I replied, glancing up at him through the fading smoke, scared of what it might be.

He shifted, like he wasn’t sure how to phrase whatever was on his mind. “Remember when you first joined the team and Larry and the boys used to make fun of you cause you had a crush on me?”

I laughed softly, almost in disbelief. “How could I forget?”

There was a pause, and then his next words came, careful, curious. “Well… was it true?”

My breath caught a little. I shifted on my feet, pretending to find a more comfortable stance, but really it was just to buy myself a second. The cigarette between my fingers burned down slowly as I thought about how to answer.

“It was…” I started, but the words got stuck. My heart beat a little faster, and I felt the heat rising in my chest. I glanced at him, meeting his eyes for a second before looking away again, focusing on the glow of the cigarette instead. “Maybe a little,” I admitted, quieter now. “But I mean, it wasn’t serious or anything…”

I trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence without giving away more than I wanted to. Van’s eyes were on me, I could feel it, and it made me squirm inside.

“And now?” His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to push too hard, but the question still hung heavy between us.

I flicked the ash from my cigarette, staring down at the glowing tip as if it could somehow give me the right words.

“It’s different now, Van,” I said, glancing at him briefly. “Now we have responsibilities and… everything.” My voice trailed off, unsure how much of my thoughts I should actually say out loud.

“So… you don’t like me like that?”

I exhaled slowly, trying to keep my heart from speeding up. The question was so simple, so direct, but it wasn’t that easy. “Of course I like you,” I said, my voice a little firmer this time. “But there’s more to it.”

He stayed quiet, waiting for me to continue. The silence pressed on me, but I knew he needed more than that.

“We’re not just some people who can have a crush and see where it goes, Van” I explained, looking away from him, out into the dark. “You’re part of the band. I’m working with you guys. It’s not… it’s not the same as it was before when I was just a random girl who helped every now and then. It’s not simple.”

“I never said it had to be simple.” His voice was quiet, but there was something behind it that made me look at him. The way his eyes held mine made my stomach flip. He wasn’t teasing or playing around like usual. He was serious.

I turned my head sharply to look at him, my frustration bubbling over. “Is this why you switched rooms with Jamie? To interrogate me?”

He met my gaze with an intensity that made my heart race for all the wrong reasons. “Interrogate? Is that what you think this is, (Y/N)? I just want to understand this better. I need to.”

His jaw clenched, and I could see the tension radiating from him. “You’re the one who keeps pushing me away! One minute we’re close, and the next you’re acting like I’m some kind of burden.”

I inhaled sharply, my temper flaring. “I’m not pushing you away! I just don’t want to complicate things. I have responsibilities, and I can’t just throw everything aside because I like you.”

“Why does it always have to be about responsibilities?” He took a step closer, his eyes fierce. “What about what you want? What about us?”

I felt a surge of anger mixed with something else, something deeper. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for both of us.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he said, frustration spilling over into his voice. “But it feels like you’re shutting me out completely, and I can’t stand it!”

I stepped back, shaking my head, trying to push back the feelings swirling inside me. “I can’t do this, Van. Not right now.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “(Y/N)…”

The silence hung between us, thick and charged. Van turned away, walking toward the balcony. I could see him struggling to keep his emotions in check. I followed him, crossing my arms tightly against my chest, wanting to maintain some semblance of distance.

He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling into the night air. “I don’t want to fight with you,” he said quietly, staring out at the city lights. “But I can’t pretend like this doesn’t matter.”

“Then stop acting like it’s all so simple!” I shot back, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “It’s not just about us, it’s about everything else. I can’t just ignore the consequences. You’re the rockstar, no one cares what you do..But me? My ass is constantly on the line, Van. Things are not the same.” I repeat.

Van flicked the cigarette off the balcony, the ember glowing as it fell into the darkness. He turned to face me, his expression softening. “You’re right. They’re not the same. But maybe we could figure it out together instead of fighting about it.”

I searched his eyes, the tension still crackling between us but mixed with a glimmer of hope. “I don’t want to keep hurting each other.”

“I don’t want that either,” he said, taking a step closer again. “But I care about you too much to walk away from this.”

Just then, something shifted in the air. The anger that had sparked between us began to fade, leaving behind a fragile truce. My heart raced, and I felt drawn to him despite everything.

After a while of silence, my mind working to understand the weight of all Van had just said, he finally spoke, breaking the tension that hung between us.

“I remember the first day I saw you, you know?” Van continued, his voice low and contemplative. “You were so nervous, walking around like you were on a mission. I’ve never seen someone move that fast. I thought, that lass must be mad. But it wasn’t just that—you were also eager, determined to see everything be perfect.”

Van’s gaze was steady, warm, and filled with memories I had tucked away in the corners of my mind. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him right away; instead, I focused on my cigarette, the ember glowing brightly as the smoke curled up into the night air.

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the memories of that day. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I remember when you officially joined the team,” he went on, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You were so caring with every single detail, with every one of us. And me? You couldn’t even look at me without blushing. The boys found that so funny.”

Finally, I shifted, allowing myself to meet his gaze. The tenderness in his eyes made my heart race.

“I remember the first time I realized I wanted you,” Van said, his voice low and soft, cutting through the night air like a warm breeze. “After we played Cardiff Castle. You looked at me with the most beautiful smile ever, tears in your eyes, and your arms open just waiting for me to hug you. I never wanted anything else since that day. It was the first time you looked at me, truly. No embarrassment, no fear, just you.”

His words wrapped around me, pulling me closer into a moment I had nearly forgotten. I could picture it vividly—the way the stage lights had illuminated his features, the excitement in the air as we celebrated a successful show, and the overwhelming emotion that filled the space between us.

“And then the tour started,” he said, his voice softening, “and you stopped being that shy girl. You became this strong, amazing woman… that I admire very much. But I miss that shy girl, the one who used to let me in. The one that I fell in love with. The one I know it’s still right here, dancing around her feelings to keep up this act.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with emotion. My breath caught in my throat as I processed what he had just said. The vulnerability in his confession echoed in my heart, and I felt the weight of his longing.

“You keep pushing this on me and It’s not…It’s not like I wanted things to be this way, Van,” I said, my voice shaky as I fought back the wave of emotions rising in my chest. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve spent crying in my bunk, avoiding you after the shows. Your absence was too much, but I knew I made a choice when I entered the team.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You were my safe place, and I pushed you away. I thought it would make it easier, but it only made everything harder. I felt like I was losing a part of myself every time I avoided you.”

Van stepped closer, the heat from his body radiating against mine. “You should have told me. I would have done anything to be there for you. I still would do..Let me do this now, (Y/N), let me try.”

I looked at him for a long moment, my heart racing, the doubts were filling my head, but Van’s eyes felt..Safe. This felt safe.

I finally sighed, giving him a slow nod. I could see the determination in his eyes, and before I could second-guess myself, Van didn’t want to waste another second. He tossed his cigarette off the balcony and pulled me into a kiss.

The moment our lips met, I gasped into his mouth, surprised by the sudden intensity of it all. I hadn’t expected him to act so quickly, and the warmth of his body pressed against mine made it hard to think straight. The tiny space of the balcony felt even smaller as we melted into each other, the heat of the summer night wrapping around us like a blanket, the taste of smoke dancing around both of our tongues, everything felt too much.

I instinctively leaned into him, feeling the hard planes of his chest against my softness, the way his hands found my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel my pulse racing, every nerve in my body igniting with every brush of his lips. It was electric, intoxicating, and I felt myself surrendering to the moment, letting go of all my worries, if only for a few seconds.

“Holy shit,” I said, breathless as we finally pulled back, my heart still racing from the kiss.

“I know, right?” Van replied, laughing, that playful smirk still tugging at his lips.

“So you did have a plan when you kicked Jamie out, you slag,” I teased, feeling a mix of disbelief and amusement at the way everything had unfolded.

Van chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe a little. I just thought it was about time we addressed the elephant in the room.”

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress a grin. “An elephant? More like a herd of them.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, leaning against the balcony railing, his expression softening. “But honestly, I couldn’t stand being in the same room with you any longer without saying something. It was driving me mad.”

I took a step closer, my heart swelling at his honesty. “It was driving me mad too, you know? I was so scared of messing things up, of losing you.”

“(Y/N),” he said, his tone serious as he reached out to cup my face in his hands. “You could never lose me..Even if you tried, and you already did.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks, Van,” I said chuckling softly, my heart still racing from the kiss.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice low and smooth. I tossed my cigarette over the balcony and turned to head back into the room, waiting for him to follow.

The room was silent now, the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the space as I shifted on the edge of the bed, staring at the sheets, trying to process everything that had just happened between us.

“You okay?” Van asked, stepping inside and leaning against the door frame, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Yeah, just trying to get my mind to assimilate everything,” I said, forcing a smile despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

“Well,” he said, pushing off the frame and taking a few steps toward me, “would you be willing to do more of what we just did out there? I’m sure it can take your mind off it.”

“You’re insatiable, you know?” I said, trying to joke, but the truth was I was scared. The playful tone masked the tightness in my chest, the insecurities swirling in my mind. I was so inexperienced, it made me embarrassed.

I knew Van wouldn’t care about it, he respected me so much and I knew this wouldn’t be a problem to him at all, but I had waited so long for this moment, and I wanted both of us to feel good about it.

The kiss we just shared was perfect, but it was quick, and Van was the one who took the lead. What if I messed things up when we decided to take any further?

I had barely kissed three people in my life, and now here I was, with the man I had desired most wanting to kiss me, in a hotel room where everything felt too intimate, too real.

Oh God. Would he want to… have sex? Tonight? Just the thought of it made my stomach churn. I could feel my heart racing, and I tried to shake off the wave of insecurity that threatened to drown me.

“I’m only insatiable for you, and you know it,” he said, now sitting on the bed and stroking my leg, taking me out of my spiral for a moment.

The warmth of his hand sent a shiver through me, but I couldn’t shake the uncertainty gnawing at my insides. I gave him a weak smile, not wanting to think things through too deepl

“But, Van, I don’t know… I don’t think I can—”

“It’s okay, (Y/N),” he cut me off gently. “We don’t have to do anything more than what you’re comfortable with, okay? I just want you to feel good.”

“I know, Van. It’s just… I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. The confession felt heavy, like a weight I had been carrying for too long.

“What do you mean? Thought we had just discussed this.” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

“It’s not that, it’s just…Are you really going to make me say it?” I shot back, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I hated feeling this way, but I knew I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

“Yes,” he replied, his gaze steady, urging me to be honest. “I want to understand.”

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything feels so new and overwhelming. I want this—I want you—but what if I can’t live up to what you expect?”

His gaze held mine, unwavering and patient. “You don’t need to be anything other than yourself. I’m not here to judge or compare. I just want to be with you, (Y/N).”

“Okay,” I finally said, my voice steadying. “Let’s do this then.”

Van’s eyes lit up with a mix of excitement and relief. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I replied, feeling a surge of determination. “I want to explore this with you. Just… promise me we’ll communicate, okay? I don’t want to make any mistakes.”

You can’t make mistakes, (Y/N),” he said smiling, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just… it’s just kissing. Just feeling what your body needs. Here, let me show you.”

His voice was warm and inviting, and I felt a flicker of courage at his words. I nodded, my heart pounding in anticipation as he leaned in again.

He tilted my chin slightly, his gaze searching mine for any sign of hesitation. “If at any point you want to stop, just say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” I breathed, feeling a rush of warmth spread through me as our lips met once more. This time, there was a sense of urgency in the way he kissed me, a delicious blend of tenderness and passion that made my pulse race.

I felt my worries begin to melt away, lost in the way he moved against me, guiding me to let go of my anxieties. I leaned into him, matching his rhythm, letting my hands explore the contours of his shoulders and back.

“You see?” Van murmured against my lips, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. “This is just about enjoying each other. No expectations, just us.”

I smiled, feeling a newfound confidence as I returned his kiss, emboldened by his words. It felt so right to be here with him, to explore this connection without fear of judgment.

With every kiss, I felt myself opening up, embracing the moment and all that it held. It wasn’t just about the physical; it was about the trust we were building together, the bond that was deepening with every gentle caress and soft whisper.

Van smiled softly as I pushed forward, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug. His warmth surrounded me, and I felt the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It was comforting, grounding in a way I hadn’t expected.

“Thank you, Van,” I whispered against his shoulder, my voice filled with a mix of gratitude and relief.

He held me close, his hands gently stroking my back. “Anytime, (Y/N),” he said quietly, his breath brushing against my hair. “I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

For a moment, we stayed like that, wrapped up in each other. All the tension, the nerves, the uncertainty—everything melted away in his embrace. There were no words left to say, just the quiet reassurance of knowing that I wasn’t alone in this, and that whatever happened, Van would be there.

I held him tighter, feeling a sense of calm settle over me, knowing that this was more than just a moment—it was a beginning.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Hourglass | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

*all of my works are 18+, minors do not interact, you will be blocked (:

Summary: this is a songfic inspired by Hourglass by Catfish and the Bottlemen

or you and Bradley are reunited after months apart and realize just how hard you’ve fallen for each other

WC: 2360

Warnings: 18+ only minors dni, literally just tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of smut, a hint of angst at the beginning if you squint, mentions of pregnancy, some really silly baby names, just two fools in love

A/N: thank you my love @sebsxphia for letting me rant about this idea in your inbox a couple weeks ago, I hope you enjoy <3

•

Know when you’re gone I struggle at night

Dreams of you fucking me all the time

And I know you’re tied up

And I know your phone’s fucked

I’m craving your calls like a soldier’s wife

I wanna bring you home myself

Bring you home myself

Five months. It had been five long months since you had last seen your boyfriend, Bradley. Five months of longing—missing his smile, his warm touch, his even warmer honey colored eyes that always look at you like you’re the only person that matters in the world.

Countless nights spent dreaming about his strong body and his hands and how he’d make you fall apart underneath them. Months of struggling to sleep alone, missing the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms because you’d started to feel more at home in his bed than in your own.

You’d only been together for a little over three months when Bradley got word that he’d have to leave for deployment. His first since your relationship began. Five long months spent thousands of miles away from the sweet, handsome pilot that you’ve grown to want to spend all of your time with. 

You knew it was going to be hard, but you couldn’t have expected just how hard it would be. How much you would miss him. The lack of contact and the not knowing if Bradley was okay was beginning to get to you, the sporadic phone calls hardly enough to tide you over.

So, you were more than happy when you received a call from Bradley a week earlier, letting you know he was coming home and that he wanted you to pick him up from the base, because your face was the first one he wanted to see.

You, too, couldn’t wait to finally see Bradley with your own two eyes. To hear the deep, raspy tone of his voice outside the confines of a phone, and feel the radiating warmth of his touch without the barrier of thousands of miles between you.

It almost feels unreal to be standing here now, on the naval base awaiting Bradley’s return, antsy and debating pinching yourself as you stand alongside the other families and loved ones waiting for their own aviators’ safe return. Your back straightens up as you watch a sea of dark green flight suits begin to pour out of the carrier and in your general direction.

You and Bradley seem to spot each other at the same time. His mustached lips break into that boyish smile as a giddy one lights up your own face, and you watch him clap the sweet looking, glasses-wearing aviator he’s talking to on the shoulder before separating from him and starting towards you with a new spring in his step.

After a few moments that feel like they pass in slow motion, Bradley finally reaches you. Carelessly dropping the small duffle bag that holds his belongings to the ground, he wastes no time pulling you into his strong arms.

Your face pressed into his chest, enveloped by his warmth and his scent—a bit the fresh, piney cologne you’ve always known him to wear, a little bit of sweat, and the pleasant musk that is just so inherently Bradley. The two of you stay like that for a few long moments, just reveling in being in each other’s presence for the first time in months.

You pull back and take a moment to just look at him—all sandy hair and golden skin, honeyed eyes squinting a bit in the harsh sunlight. Big and broad and even more beautiful than you remember, if that’s even possible. 

Bradley’s mustached lips quirk back up as he grins down at you again. He looks tired, but happy to see you.

Your hands slide up from his chest to the short hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck, and you can’t hold back from pulling him down into a kiss. Bradley’s just as eager, a hand on the small of your back bringing you in closer as his lips move against yours. Slow and languid, just enjoying the moment.  

“I missed you, baby girl.” His words are murmured against your lips.

You don’t clue him in on how hard these past five months have been without him. How you already struggled to sleep at night without him next to you. How his calls, though far and few, had been like a lifeline for you.

You just reattach your lips to his in a bruising kiss that you hope conveys the emotions you’re not sure you’re verbally ready to express just yet. “I missed you, too.”

You don’t know that all of those same emotions are swirling through Bradley’s mind too.

Bradley’s tongue begs for entrance at the seam of your lips and there’s a collective sigh from the both of you when you let him in. You’re in silent agreement that five months is far too long to go without this feeling.

You’re not entirely sure how long you continue on like that—seconds or minutes—you and Bradley both forgetting that you’re in public as your tongues tangle together, mouths moving in a smooth rhythm that you’re happy to register still feels familiar after so much time apart.

You only remember your surroundings when the raucous sounds of cheering hit your ears. You spring back from Bradley to see a few of his fellow aviators a short distance away, hollering at your public display of affection. Your cheeks heat as a handsome blonde—Hangman, you recall Bradley telling you—obnoxiously imitates a rooster call.

Your gaze returns to Bradley, whose face is just as flushed as yours; an adorable scowl on his features that pulls a quiet giggle from you as he raises a hand to flip off his friends.

Pressing one last kiss to his lips and one to the corner of his jaw, you reach out and tug on Bradley’s hand. “Come on, Flyboy. Let’s get you home.”

With a gruff, chuckled “yes, ma’am” Bradley leans down to pick up his duffle with his free hand. He gently squeezes your hand that’s still holding his other one, and he lets you lead the way to your car.

Come back, move in, mess my place

Chest infect me, waste my days

‘Cause I know you love to drive me up the wall

I know you love to drive me up the wall

I wanna bring you home myself

Bring you home myself

Bradley loved the sight of you in his home. You, in his Hawaiian shirts or ratty Navy tees, nothing but your panties underneath. Sat atop his kitchen counter, the mess from the breakfast you cooked for him still surrounding you while he stands between your legs, kissing you breathless. You, curled up on the couch next to him while you watch tv, trying—and failing—to stay awake, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart in your ear as you lay against his chest.

But, what Bradley thinks he enjoys seeing most is you as you are now. Laying under the silky sheets on his bed, skin still bare from the hours spent tangled up with him between said sheets. 

Your hair is sprawled across his pillow, the scent of your shampoo captivating his senses. Your shining eyes are staring up at him with nothing but pure adoration. He wishes he could have you like this every day.

And I’m so impatient when you’re not mine

I just wanna catch up on all the lost times

And I’ll say I’m sorry if I sound sordid

‘Cause all I really ever want is you

It’s as you’re lying on your sides facing one another, your nimble fingers running through Bradley’s curls as the two of you quietly catch each other up on anything either of you missed during your months apart, that it hits Bradley just how hard he’s falling for you. Despite more or your relationship up to this point being spent apart than together. How much he’s missed this.

And, before his brain can catch up, he’s telling you just that.

“Fuck, I missed you. I thought about you every second I was away.” Bradley moves his body to hover over yours like he had a number of times already, since getting you into his bed earlier in the afternoon.

“Really?” Your one-word question is a quiet whisper with a hint of disbelief, and you’re sure that the expression on your face as you look up at him matches the lovesick one he wears on his own.

Bradley’s lips can’t help but quirk up into a grin at that shy look of adoration he’s come to love so well, like you’re afraid to let him in on just how much you’ve fallen for him. He wants to make it known that he’s fallen just as hard.

“Mhm,” Bradley gives a small nod, golden brown eyes peering down at you with an intensity that makes you want to squirm underneath him.

“Missed those big, beautiful Bambi eyes,” he leans down to press a featherlight kiss to each of your eyelids, a giggle escaping you as you close your eyes for him, Bradley’s mustache tickling the thin skin.

“This cute little nose,” he places another kiss on the tip of your nose, “and these adorable, pouty lips.”

Bradley’s thumb runs along your plush bottom lip before gently pulling down and watching it flip back into place.

When he finally leans in closer to kiss you, you can’t help but smile into it. Bradley pulls away, only slightly, his eyes still focused on your lips.

“And that sweet smile… thought about that pretty much every second of every day. Couldn’t wait to come home and see that again.”

Your smile could only grow at his words, absolutely beaming up at him, eyes sparkling and Bradley can’t help but grin right back at you.

“There she is,” he lets out a breathless chuckle before leaning back in to kiss you again. Smiling lips pressed against smiling lips. Teeth slightly knocking together, but you’re both too love-drunk to care. “That’s the one.”

Offer my hand and I’ll take your name

Share my shower, kiss my frame

‘Cause I wanna carry all of your children

And I wanna call them stupid shit

It’s late into the night now as you and Bradley find yourselves cuddled back up in the blankets of his warm bed. Legs intertwined, your limbs heavy and sated from exertion, pleasantly sore. You’re holding one of Bradley’s large hands and absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

It’s now Bradley’s turn to play with your hair, deft fingers of his free hand running through the tendrils; still damp from the shower you just shared, smoothing strands away from your face and twirling the ends around his fingers. Both of you, unbeknownst to the other, silently daydreaming about a future with the person lying next to you.

Bradley kisses your forehead lightly before pulling you into his warm chest, where he feels you yawn against his skin

“Tired?” You don’t have to see the mirth in Bradley’s eyes to detect the hint of smugness in his tone when he asks the question.  

He knows that last round in the shower—pinned up against the slippery tile by his hips as he fucked into you, your legs hooked over the crook of his elbows as he held you up–definitely wore you out.

“Yeah,” your breathy laugh fans against the plane of his chest, “I don’t think I can feel my legs. Might just have to marry you if you keep fucking me like that.”

Bradley tilts his head to lay a kiss to the crown of your hair and hums almost pensively, “Mm- I like the sound of that… Mrs. Bradshaw.”

You can’t contain the giggles that escape your lips at his words and man, does Bradley love that sound.

You press your lips to his pec in a sweet kiss before tilting your head up to look at him, the two of you grinning at each other like lovesick fools at the notion of being married; of spending the rest of your lives together.

“We can get married and you can keep me in this bed forever, and we’ll have like a million little mustached babies.”

Now it’s Bradley who can’t contain his laughter, the vibrations of his bare chest jostling yours that’s covered by his old Navy t-shirt, and you can’t help but join him, tinkling giggles mingling with his heartier chuckles.

“Yeah, they’d be born with a full-on Tom Selleck stache. We could call them ‘Magnum, P.I’, or-“

“The Lorax,” you interrupt him, the both of you still giggling. “What if it’s a girl?”

You nearly swoon at how adorable Bradley looks in that moment, like a confused puppy as he tilts his head in thought. “Uh… Magnella?”

Your head dips back down to lean on his chest as you laugh into his skin. “Oh god, that’s awful!”

Bradley’s missed this feeling these last few months. Laughing with you, your body pressed tightly against him to absorb his furnace-like warmth, and he thinks for a moment that he’s damn near ready to leave the navy if it means he never has to miss this again.

He wraps his arms around you a little tighter, still chuckling as he drops a featherlight kiss to your head. “Well, she has a mustache, she’s already doomed.”

You and Bradley both know it’s too soon, but neither one of you can help but think that you’d be more than happy to spend your lives together.

Get married, buy a pretty house with a picket fence, have a few—hopefully mustache-less—babies, and spend every night together wrapped up in his warm bed and his even warmer embrace.

Those three little words that neither of you have yet to say linger in the air as you fall asleep that night. Wrapped up in Bradley’s strong arms, your cheek comfortably squished against his chest as he holds you like he never wants to let you go again. You both dream that night of a future that you hope to one day build into a reality.

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Thank you for reading! x

Tagging a few people I think might be interested: @sunlightmurdock @wkndwlff @bradshawsbitch @lewmagoo @roleycoleyreccenter @teacupsandtopgun <3

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[catb-fics]

Imagines and One-Shots

Back to Main Masterlist

Most of my fics are NSFW so please bear that in mind // ✨ = smut // 🌸 = fluff // 🌧️ angst

These stories are works of fiction. They are not, in any way, intended to reflect reality. The stories and characters are purely fantasies originating from the mind of the author. The versions of real-life people that appear are fictional portrayals and do not reflect the real people or their actions in any way.

Catfish and the Bottlemen

I’ll be uploading any without links as soon as I can! It’s a big job so it might take me a while. My more recently written fics are at the top and I apologise profusely for the cringe lurking at the bottom of the list (I wrote some of those 3/4 years ago - don’t judge me ha ha)

Van McCann

First kiss headcanons 🌸

Showtime ✨ You help Van to relax when he’s nervous before playing Sefton Park

Connection ✨ Phone sex when Van’s on tour

Soothe 🌸🌧️ Van cuddles after a tough day

Picture Perfect (I’m With the Band) ✨ Van wants to film you both having sex

Long hair headcanons 🌸✨

Breathe ✨ Van helps you to de-stress after a shitty day

Drive ✨ Van can’t keep his hands off you, even when he’s driving

White Wedding ✨Van eats you out under your wedding dress after the ceremony

White shirt blurb 🌸 Your husband’s irresistible in your favourite white shirt

Baby Fever (Dad Van) ✨ you ask Van to give you another baby

Birthday headcanons 🌸

Smile for the Camera ✨ You make a sex tape with Van

Caring 🌸 Van looks after you when you have a bad period

Incredible ✨ You get distracted by Van’s hands when he’s teaching you how to play guitar

Beach Life 🌸 Part 1 Beach picnic with Van

No Nut November ✨ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 You explore Van’s submissive side

One For The Wedding Album 🌸✨ Part 1 Taking sexy Polaroids for your husband at your wedding reception

Tease ✨ You get turned on seeing your boyfriend in his sweatpants

Mornings with Van 🌸 Headcanons and waking up with Van blurb

Happy Birthday Sir (Prof Van) ✨ You give your hot professor a birthday present under the desk

Heat ✨ Summer holiday balcony sex

Skin to Skin (Dad Van) 🌸 You feed your baby daughter for the first time

Hungry ✨ You reveal to Van that you’re not wearing any underwear at a restaurant date

Cheat (Red) ✨ Van teases you under the table during a dinner date

It’s Good to be Back 🌸 Van’s nervous before headlining Reading festival

Borrowed Time (Dad Van) ✨ You and your husband are on borrowed time to get intimate before the kids wake up

Good Touch ✨ A stressed Van comes into your salon for a massage

Kisses Headcanons 🌸

In Good Hands ✨ Part 1 / Part 2 Doctor/patient AU - your new doctor helps cure your sexual frustrations

Dad Van NSFW Alphabet ✨🌸

Daddy ✨ You get yourself off on Van’s thigh (daddy kink)

Snow Day Headcanons (Dad Van) 🌸

Possessive ✨ Rough possessive sex

Soft 🌸 Van comes home exhausted from tour

Business ✨ Sex on the tour bus

Confession (Pure) ✨ Confessing your sins leads to more in church

Daredevil (Playing Hard to Get) ✨ Van teases you on a car journey

Blade (Ice Cold) ✨ knife play kink

Sweet Dreams (Ice Cold) ✨ somnophilia blurb

Affection 🌸 Headcanons and morning cuddles blurb

Truth (I’m With the Band) ✨ Van sets a challenge for himself to make you squirt

Secretive (Red Van) ✨ thigh riding blurb

Unwind ✨ Van distracts you from studying

Limit (Prof Van) ✨ Van punishes you for distracting him

Bad Girl (Prof Van) ✨ Your Professor punishes you for being a brat

Expectations (Dad Van) 🌸 Valentines Day with Van when you’re heavily pregnant

Sweet Treat ✨ Birthday cakes and whipped cream

Never Have I Ever ✨ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Good Girl ✨ Soft dom Van

Valentine’s Surprise 🌸 Van buys you puppies as a valentines treat

Can’t Believe You’re 26 🌸 You confess you’ve never been kissed to your friend Van on your 26th birthday

Baby Love ✨ Van is insatiable when you’re trying for a baby

Pick Him Up From Heathrow (Dad Van) 🌸 Picking up your husband from the airport

Truth or Dare ✨ Part 1 / Part 2 Your friend Van confesses that he’s a virgin

Valentines Headcanons (Dad Van) 🌸 Van and the kids treat you on Valentines Day

Private Dancer ✨ Part 1 / Part 2 You give Van a private dance and get an invitation back to his hotel

NSFW Alphabet ✨

Hugs Headcanons 🌸

Adventurous ✨ Part 1 / Part 2 You can Van go shopping for sex toys to spice up your love life

Good Morning ✨ You wake Van up with a sexy surprise

Dating Van Headcanons 🌸

Halloween Headcanons (Dad Van) 🌸

Caught Red-Handed ✨ Your house-mate Van catches you ‘thinking’ about him then wants to turn your fantasy into reality

Hall Pass ✨ Part 1 / Part 2

All I Want For Christmas 🌸 Part 1 / Part 2 Van comes into your shop to buy an ugly Christmas jumper

Good Luck Charm ✨ You’re Van’s good luck charm before a show

No Touching ✨ Van reckons he can make you come without touching you

Distractions ✨ You use an unconventional method to distract Van from his FIFA game

Then There Were Three ✨ A night partying ends up in a threesome with your bf Johnny and his friend Van

Falling in Love With Your Best Friend 🌸 Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 You’re secretly in love with your best friend Van but you’re too scared to tell him your feelings

After The Show ✨ Post-gig back-stage shagging

Be Mine 🌸 Van gives you a surprise present with a proposal

Looking After Van ✨ You run a bath for Van when he’s tired after touring

Phone Sex ✨ Van misses you when he’s touring which leads to a smutty phone conversation

First Time 🌸 You lose your virginity to your bf Van

Love Bites ✨ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 Vampire AU

Broken 🌧️ Part 1 / Part 2 Your friend Van comforts you when you come out of an abusive relationship

Jealousy 🌧️✨ Part 1 / Part 2 Van gets jealous when you get close to a male friend when he’s touring

Johnny Bond

Comfort ✨ Johnny knows just how to comfort you when you’ve had a tough day

Wet ✨ Showering with Johnny on his birthday

NSFW Alphabet (Prof Bond) ✨

Burning Desire (Prof Bond) ✨ wax play blurb

NSFW Alphabet ✨

Never Have I Ever ✨ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Hall Pass ✨ Part 1 / Part 2

Birthday Treat ✨ You give Johnny a surprise treat for his birthday

Then There Were Three ✨ A night partying ends up in a threesome with your bf Johnny and his friend Van

Bob Hall

Meeting Bob 🌸 You meet your crush Bob when you interview the band at a festival

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ: Part 14

“Chest infect me, waste my days”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: well, here we are! I made it (fucking finally) this chapter turned out to be a LONG one. Second longest one I have written, thus far!

Summary: After finding out Robert sold the battery you and Joel needed for a truck to find Tommy, you hunt him down. The day takes an interesting turn when you, Joel, and Tess run into a spitfire teenager, named Ellie.

~word count: 8.5k~

Warnings: implied age gap, established relationship, angst, more angst and oh, even more angst! canon typical violence, triggering themes, may be disturbing for some viewers, physical violence, being held captive, death of a minor character, trauma, PTSD, depression, brief suicidal thoughts, mentions of drinking, drug use, explosions, depictions of graphic wounds, swearing, anger, rage, arguing, cluster fuck of emotions, (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter :

“Hourglass” by Catfish and the Bottlemen

“I’m a Mess” by Ed Sheeran

“Pirate Song” by Mehro

“Disarm” by The Civil Wars

“Blood In The Cut” by K. Flay

Summer, 2023 : Boston QZ

Believing that Robert was just going to hand you, and Joel, the car battery you so desperately needed, without spilling a little bit of your blood, was truly laughable.

This was by far the stupidest thing you agreed to thus far. You didn’t have much of a choice as Joel’s nightmares, overall mood, and attitude were worsening. Why he also decided to trust Robert's word, was beyond you.

It came as no surprise when you found yourself being jumped by two of Robert’s goons in broad fucking daylight. This was definitely not the way you wanted to start your morning off. The only positive? Perhaps you would soon find yourself getting some decent fucking sleep again.

One blow to the head was enough to knock you out cold. You were awoken by someone snapping their fingers in your face. Your head painfully throbbed and you could taste copper on your tongue from your split upper lip. So, Roberts goons had roughed you up a bit. You couldn’t really blame them for it, considering you and Joel had killed their friends.

“Ah, there she is. There’s the pretty little bitch.”

Robert. Of fucking course.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you lolled your head to the side, refusing to look at him for a moment. You took a deep inhale, then exhaled as you turned your head, looking him dead on with a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Took you fuckin long enough to come after me. Pretty predictable of you. So, what’s gonna happen next? You gonna kill me? You’d be doing me a solid favor if you did honestly. Haven’t had a solid night of decent fucking sleep in months.”

“You think this is funny, sweetheart?” Robert was not expecting you to laugh, let alone suggest that he kill you.

“Oh, I find this to be fucking hilarious. You wanna know why?” You leaned forward in the chair, as you spoke, “doesn’t matter what you do to me. Beat me up, torture me, kill me. Do your fucking worst. I just know you’re a dead man regardless. Cause as soon as Joel finds me? He’s gonna know exactly who to go after. It’s gonna be you Robert. So again, go ahead. Take your revenge on me. I know how fucking badly you want to.”

Robert had leaned down to your level, gripping your chin tightly between his grimy fingers. “Is that a threat, my dear Gwen?”

You laughed, spitting a mixture of saliva and congealed blood on the bastard's face. “How the fuck can it be a threat when it’s a known fact that you’re a dead man Robert. You and I both know Joel well enough that he’s not going to take this lightly.”

Robert had released his grip on your chin, using that hand to wipe the blood and saliva from his face. You didn’t even get a chance to open your mouth to speak before his fist collided with your face, your nose made a sickening crunching sound as the soft bone tissues were broken.

Ouch.

There was fresh blood leaking down your nose, over your lips, chin and neck, staining your shirt crimson. Robert’s face was slightly horrified when you laughed again.

“Damn. That must have really fucking felt good, huh? You gonna do it again? C’mon, is that all you really got?”

He couldn’t get under your skin if he even tried. You had absolutely zero fucks left to give and frankly, the soothing sensation of blood leaking out of your body, felt pretty nice. You were eerily calm.

“I meant what I said y’know. You’re crazier than him.”

“Oh please, tell me something I don’t already know.”

He chuckled taking a step back as he admired his ‘handy work.’

“I’m feeling generous today sweetheart. Consider us even. You had to already know that I wasn’t going to give you the battery, right?”

“Oh I’m fully fucking aware that you weren’t going to give me the damn battery. Joel insisted, and I trusted his word. I deserved to get my blood spilled a bit. Although, I’m thinking maybe I went too easy on you. Maybe I should have twisted the knife a little fuckin deeper—“

He backhanded your face then. The motion nearly gave you whiplash as your head twisted to the side.

“Did Joel ever fuckin tell you that mouth of yours is gonna get you killed one day sweetheart?”

You turned your head, looking right at him once more with a smirk.

“Oh, he’s told me about 1000 times already, Robert. You aren’t special.”

Robert had brushed his grimy thumb against your cheek and you grimaced, fighting the urge to bite his fucking thumb off right then and there.

“What’s gotten your panties in such a twist, sweetheart? Miller not giving it to you the way that he should be?”

What was it with men assuming that women were pissed off just because they weren’t getting “fucked” the way that they deserved. Why did it always come down to sex? Maybe you were fucking pissed because your ass got jumped by these goons, and your nose was fucking broken as a result.

Fucking grimy ass excuses for men, always thinking with their dicks.

“He’s giving it to me just fine. Thank you so much for being concerned about my sex life Robert. You’d never get the fucking chance. I’d bite your dick off in a heartbeat.”

Robert let out a soft sigh as he snapped his fingers once and the two guys that roughed you up in the beginning, released the restraints from around your wrists.

“I know you’re his killing machine, dearest but you could also become mine. The offer still stands.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Robert. I’m my own killing machine, and right now? I’m done with your shit, and I would very much like to go home and drink till my face stops fucking hurting. So are we done here? I’ll tell Joel some idiotic teenagers jumped me and roughed me up. Your name will not leave my mouth, I assure you.”

“I’m choosing to trust you, just this one time sweetheart. You go on and run along back to Joel now.”

Just as your wrists were finally free, you heard a collective yell, followed by a loud explosion. You were sent tumbling to the ground, your ears ringing and there was a good chance you had a concussion from the impact. You could feel warm blood dripping down the new gash on your forehead.

Fucking awesome.

You struggled to pull yourself up from the concrete, grabbing ahold of what was left of the wall closest to you for support.

Both of Robert's goons were dead on the floor beside your feet but Robert? He was gone. Motherfucker always had his ways of escaping death. He was like a fucking cockroach. Cut its head off, and the body still moves.

You stumbled outside, the sunlight blinding your vision as your ears continued to ring. Your head throbbed painfully but you were still sharp enough to hear gunshots whizzing past you.

“Free Boston now, mother fucker!” A firefly had yelled. Of course this was another firefly attack.

All citizens must clear the surrounding area immediately. Do not return until FEDRA authorities permit.

When you saw FEDRA soldiers marching up the street, guns drawn, you backed up slowly, with your hands above your head.

“On your knees!” One of the soldiers had demanded

You said you weren’t a firefly, but they didn’t believe you.

You were shoved down to your knees and then it was lights out for the second time that day. Hey, at least you were finally going to get some decent fucking sleep.

Ellie Williams was like most typical teenagers. She had a bit of an attitude problem, she had gotten into fights, she was defiant, had a mouth to her. Ellie was also a devout friend, and she loved hard. What made Ellie unique, and valuable, was something that she viewed as a burden. Ellie was immune.

If she was so fucking valuable, then why the hell did Marlene have her chained up like this?

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

“Eight”

“Fuck…you.” The teenager spoke with a bored, and annoyed expression on her face. She raised her middle finger up at the medic, who didn’t even look amused by Ellie’s actions.

“Hold out your hand—”

Ellie already had her hand raised.

“State your name, slowly and clearly.”

“Veronica.” Ellie deadpanned.

“Same as yesterday..and the day before and the fucking day before that..I think you get the picture.”

“People are going to come looking for me.”

“People from FEDRA! You hear me?”

“Let me out or you’re gonna pay motherfucker!”

“I’m not supposed to be here!” She yelled.

The medic had already left and the door was slammed shut as Ellie sank down to the ground, in frustration.

On the wall across from her, written in red paint (or even possibly blood) were the words, “When you’re lost in the darkness”

It was late in the evening, sometime after curfew when you were thrown out of lockup.

Your body hit the concrete with a harsh thud as you rolled onto your side, letting out a groan of pain.

You waited until the FEDRA fucks had pulled the steel door shut before you slowly pulled yourself up onto your knees, leaning over, with a mix of blood, sweat, and dirt covering your body. Your eyes were squeezed shut as the dull throbbing in your head began to intensify.

For a split moment in your agony, you thought about how nice it would be to go home, go to sleep, and never wake up again. It flashed through your mind before your heart reminded you that it wasn’t your time yet. You couldn’t leave Joel. You couldn’t do that to him. He was far too entangled in your soul. The thought of leaving him in this cruel, godforsaken, shit fucking excuse of a world, sent a wave of pain right through your heart.

You would not be dying today.

The walk back to yours and Joel’s apartment felt like it took days. By the time you reached the stairs, you were winded and seeing stars behind your eyes.

All you hoped is that Joel was asleep already. You were too wounded, too exhausted to deal with his impending interrogation. All you wanted to do was have a few drinks, and knock out.

When you quietly unlocked the door, you were met with silence, sans the static of the radio by the window. You let out a sigh of relief, your shoulders drooping in as you stumbled inside.

Joel must have only gotten home a little before you did because there on the table was a bottle of whiskey, with your name on it.

Sweet-sweet relief.

You sunk down into the chair, letting your head rest back against the worn wood. The blood from the gash on your forehead had stopped bleeding hours ago. It was crusted over, the blood congealed but it was still painful to the touch.

You wasted no time to snatch the bottle up and take a deep, long swig of the amber liquor. It burned down your throat deliciously.

You took a few more swigs, hoping that the liquor would ease your worries, and lull you to sleep.

You set the bottle back down along the table, and that’s when you noticed the residual powder from the pills that Joel would smuggle in for ration cards. You dragged your finger through what was left, observing it before you let out a deep sigh.

The tears came shortly after. They raked through your body, sending chills and shivers down your spine as you silently wept. Your tears were heavy and flowed down your cheeks like a babbling stream. Your breaths came out shallow, jagged, and you tried desperately to regain your composure.

You wept for Joel.

When your tears finally did cease, you dragged yourself up from the chair and padded down the hall to yours and Joel’s bedroom.

That’s where you found your lover, laid on his side, his back facing the door. His arms were crossed over his chest, almost as if he was hugging himself, in place of your warm, familiar body. He often would sleep with his body facing the door, with his good ear uncovered. You knew it was a particularly bad day when his back was facing the door, as if he didn’t care who the fuck would come into his space.

Your movements were silent as you sank down onto the old mattress, careful to not disturb him in his slumber. You brought your arms around his middle, gently coaxing his back against your chest. You knew your wounds needed cleaning but at that moment, you didn’t care. You just wanted to hold him.

Your face comfortably rested along the crook of his neck, breathing in his natural musk. A mix of pine, gunpowder, and whiskey. You felt him stir at the slightest when your arms had so gently wrapped around him.

“Baby?..” he whispered, eyes still closed as he brought his hands around yours, interlocking your fingers over his tummy, as he let out a long, peaceful, exhale.

“Shh..” you softly cooed. “It’s just me. Go back to sleep lover. You’re safe.”

He let out a low hum, drowsily bringing one of your interlocked hands up to his lips, brushing them over the outside of your hand, and against your knuckles before his body relaxed again.

You awoke sometime in the middle of the night to a presence looming over your face. You knew it was your Joel by the way he was ever so tenderly holding your face between his calloused hands. His thumbs were lightly brushing against your cheeks. They were splattered with dry blood and grime. Your eyes were still closed, but you could picture the furrow of his brows, and his clenched jaw in your mind. His thumb had softly brushed against the dried blood against your hairline, eliciting a wince from you.

He was furious. You could sense it coursing through his entire being as he carefully assessed the damage inflicted on your beautiful face. You were hurt; someone was going to pay for it.

When his thumb brushed across the scabbed skin of your split upper lip, your eyelashes slowly fluttered open.

“Who did this to you?” He spoke above a whisper. There was a slight strain to his voice as you looked up into his deep brown eyes.

“Joel—”

He spoke firmer this time. There was no way in hell that he was going to let you dance around this.

“Who.Did.This.To.You.” He asked with a low growl emitting from his chest as he spoke every syllable.

“Robert.”

There was a moment of silence between you, you could feel his warm breath fanning your face, his eyes locked on yours. His features hardened. You could only imagine the millions of ways Joel was thinking of killing Robert in those moments.

“Did he—did try and?” Joel couldn’t even form the complete sentence and by the way his face constricted, you knew he was seeing red. If Robert ever— you remembered the unpleasant chill that slipped down your spine when Robert had brushed his grimy thumb across your cheekbone.

“No, baby. He didn’t. I promise.” You reassured him.

You could see a brief moment of a relief wash over your man’s beautiful, weathered features. It was gone as quickly as it came. Hidden from your view and replaced with hardness once more.

“I’m so sorry Gwen. I should have been there. Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Thought maybe the fucker was scared into intimidation. Thought it would be safe. My sweet girl, I’m so sorry.”

You let out a deep sigh as your eyes fluttered shut once more. You were exhausted, physically, and mentally.

“It’s not your fault Joel. I should have been more cautious. Two of his guys knocked me out in broad daylight. I wasn’t watching my back and that’s all on me.”

“No. It’s not your fault. I insisted that we trust him and that he’d give us the battery. I got you fuckin’ hurt dammit. Don’t start this shit with me okay? You coulda been fuckin’ dead in alley. He could have—” He insisted.

“Joel, please. I don’t want to argue. I’m tired and I got thrown in fucking lock up for the rest of the day. This was a collective fuck up on both our parts. I’m not going to let you take all the fucking blame. I won’t allow you to do that to yourself.”

“You got fuckin’ thrown in lockup?! For what?” He harshly spoke.

“Another firefly attack. Bombed the building next to us. FEDRA had me down on my knees and I insisted I wasn’t a firefly, but they didn’t believe me.”

He shook his head, grinding his teeth together as he thought about the hell you had just gone through.

“I don’t care what you say, Alright? I should have been there as your backup. Was fuckin’ stupid of me to let you go in alone. Shoulda known that you were goin’ to get set up.”

“Joel. It literally doesn’t fucking matter right now, alright? I got my shit handed to me and I made it out alive. Can’t you just for once focus on that? You can’t always be the hero there to save me every fucking time I’m in trouble—”

“Like hell I can’t.” He spat.

“You could have fuckin’ died. I ain’t about to brush over that fact. This happened because I’ve been blinded by the fact that my brother could be dead out there. Fuckin’ careless of me.”

You let out a deep sigh as you slowly sat up so you were more level with him. Your hands were gently holding his face now as you tried to bring him back down to earth. He was fuming. His chest was rising at a fast rate, his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated.

“Joel, listen to me alright? I’m right here. I am alive. I am breathing. I’m injured, sure but c’mon, you and I both know I wouldn’t go down without putting up a fight.”

Joel took a deep inhale through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment as he relished in the softness of your hands holding his face. No amount of your softness could keep his anger at bay. It was there, it was simmering, and it wasn’t about to go away.

“Do you have any fuckin’ idea what I was put through when you nearly died on me the first time? Do you have any idea what I felt, sweet girl? I don’t care that you made it out alive. You could have fuckin’ died and I wouldn’t have even known! I would have found you in a ditch or a fuckin’ alley—” his voice broke as his tears began to freely fall.

Fuck.

“Joel, stop it. Please stop! Listen to me. Please just listen to me. Listen to my voice. Do not allow yourself to go to that place, okay? For fuck sakes, baby. I’m right here. I am holding your fucking face in my hands. I’m breathing, see? Do you want to feel my heartbeat?” You pleaded with him, grabbing his hand and placing it against your chest, where he could feel the steady thrum of your heart beat under his palm.

“You don’t fuckin’ understand. You’re alive, you're breathing. You’re here right in front of me. You’re right here, but how do you expect me to just fuckin’ act like there wasn’t a possibility that you coulda been dead? That possibility is always fuckin’ there and I can’t—I can’t lose you.” He admitted.

“Joel, do you hear that? It’s my fucking heartbeat. It’s my blood pumping, my lungs producing oxygen. Please, I’m begging you to just focus on that. Can you just try, for a moment?”

“I understand that there’s always going to be the possibility that you could lose me, I get it baby. It’s scary. I get afraid of the possibility of losing you too, every goddamn day. I try my best to not let it consume me. Sometimes the thoughts win, sometimes they don’t. I don’t focus on the times that they win, I focus on the times that I persevere.”

Joel let your words sink into his core, to his very soul. He knew he was getting himself worked up. Instead of minimizing his fears, you helped him work through them. He didn’t realize that you shared the same fears as he did. The fear of losing each other.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke, letting his head hang between your hands.

“Joel, you have nothing to be sorry for, okay? Please, baby. Look at me. I know you were scared. Hell, I was too, okay? I—almost thought of what it would be like if I had fucking died today. Whether it would be from the injuries I sustained from Robert or Fedra knocking me around a bit. When they threw me out onto the concrete and I was just laying there? The thought crossed my mind.”

Joel was silent as he slowly lifted his head to look back up at you, he spotted your fresh tears and then his arms were around you, pulling you into his broad chest as your legs found their home around his hips.

“No, my sweet girl. Please tell me this isn’t true. You didn’t have those thoughts. You were just..you were in pain and confused. Maybe the heat came into play? You weren’t thinking clearly, that’s all.” He tried to convince himself.

He was clutching you so tightly to his chest, you felt like you almost couldn’t breathe. He was afraid that if he let you go, you’d turn to dust before his very eyes.

“I’m sorry. I wish it weren’t true. It was a moment that briefly washed over me as I laid there. I thought of you Joel. I thought about how I couldn’t leave you like that. I wouldn’t. This is why I understand you, okay? I have my own set of fears, just like you. The only thing we can do is try and not let them win. We’re survivors, remember?”

His fingers were under your torn shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin against the pads of his fingers, his hands splayed out across your lower back, feeling you naturally lean into his touch.

You had managed to sneak your hands back up to his face, letting your fingers stroke his coarse, wiry beard.

He spoke finally.

“I got you, you got me, always.”

“You got me, I got you, always.” You repeated it back, pressing a soft kiss to his jawline as he held you.

“I take it, he sold the battery as well? Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have trusted that bastard.”

“He did. I also gave him my word that I wouldn’t tell you this was his doing. Told him that I’d tell you some teenagers roughed me up.” I also promised Robert you wouldn’t hurt him, but I would very much like for you to hurt him.”

Joel scoffed under his breath at Robert’s stupidity. “He actually fuckin’ believed you? I'm gonna do more than just hurt him, baby. I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him. He’s gonna answer to me for what he’s done to you.”

“I know you will Joel.”

“What the hell are we gonna do about the battery? We need it for the fuckin’ truck. It’s the only way we’re gonna get to Tommy at this rate.”

“We’re gonna get the battery back before you kill him. We’ll figure out who he sold it to. Then we’re gonna track this motherfucker down, get our battery, and our truck, and then we’ll go find Tommy. Alright?”

“Alright.” He agreed.

Joel did not allow sleep to welcome you with open arms, till he had helped you out of your tattered clothing, bathed you under the gentle stream of the shower, and tended to your wounds. You nearly dozed off in his arms as he held you in the shower. He had to coax you awake with soft touches, squeezes and feather light kisses to your cheeks.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Keep those eyes open for me. I’m almost done honey, and then you can rest, okay? He whispered against your damp hair as he washed the blood and grime from your skin.

He helped you out of the shower, wrapping you up in a towel before he had you sit on the edge of the sink, while he comfortably stood between your thighs, tending to each one of your wounds. He had the first aid kit resting on your lap as he used a bit of rubbing alcohol on a rag to disinfect the gash along your head. Once he was finished, he soothed the sting from the alcohol by pressing a soft kiss to the tender, healing flesh. Once you were both tucked safely away in bed, with your head against his chest, and his arms draped around your waist, did you finally slip into a peaceful slumber.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out where the fuck Robert was hiding. His “loyal” followers wasted no time on giving him up when you offered one of them a small stack of ration cards. You were good at doing the sweet talking. Joel was close by, leaned up against a wall, with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was watching the exchange go down intently. When you looked over your shoulder at him, giving him a small nod, he returned one back.

“Hey, friend. Don’t worry, I don’t want anything.” A QZ resident spoke as they approached Joel.

“But if you’re feelin’ lost…”

Joel didn’t even look over at the man. He was too focused on you. His head turned only the slightest, his jaw clenched as he muttered, “You tell me to “look for the light” and I’ll break your fuckin’ jaw.”

The guy held his hands up in defense, quietly backing away from Joel just as you were approaching.

“Well, it cost us a couple of cards, but we got him. So much for his “loyal” followers huh? Gave him up just like that.”

Joel’s hand had found its way to your lower back, gently grazing his fingers across the sliver of exposed skin beneath your shirt.

“No surprise there darlin.’ So, where’s the fucker at?”

“Said he’s taking the battery to a red-tagged building. At the corner of Stillman and Cross.”

Joel nodded, letting you walk alongside him. His fingers were still splayed against your lower back. Normally, your man wasn’t one for PDA. After what happened to you yesterday, he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

“The one that Miguel used to use?” He asked.

“Bingo.” You grinned up at him, using your hand to shield your eyes from the sweltering sun. Your face was discolored from the bruising. The swelling from your black eye had slightly gone down along with your split upper lip. The gash along your forehead would take longer to heal. To put it simply, you looked like hell.

“We’ll take the subway tunnel under Haymarket, get into the building from below, and take Robert by surprise.”

“Pay this fucker back.” Joel swore to you.

The two of you headed back to the apartment, making it up the stairs before you noticed Tess, leaned against the apartment door with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Jesus fuck, when Joel told me you got beat up, I didn’t realize it was gonna be this bad. You look like hell Gwen.”

You punched Joel in the bicep lightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You really just had to go and tell her huh?”

He stifled a chuckle. “She was gonna find out either way. Besides, she’s got her own reasons for wantin’ to get back at him.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”

“So, what’s the plan then?” Tess asked.

You and Joel gave her the rundown of the plan, step by step. The three of you were back at it again. It felt like the good old times, even if it was just for a brief moment.

As the three of you set out, after reloading your supplies, you had no idea that your lives would drastically change in a short amount of time. All thanks to a spit-fire teenager, named Ellie Williams.

“Well, the battery’s no good.” You spoke while standing over Robert’s deceased body, gun drawn. “He still tried to sell it, twice. You greedy fuck.” Hope you rot in hell.

There were other deceased bodies other than Robert’s, lying on the tarnished wood. A shootout had clearly taken place and Joel instinctively took the lead, stepping in front of you, and Tess, his own gun drawn. His eyes and ears focused on the sound of a human grunt, and whispers.

You and Tess came up behind him, guns drawn, focused on the sound, as Joel peeked around the corner, taking a small step down the hall.

He had briefly recognized Marlene’s face, just as his attention diverted to the door next to his side opening. In a fury, a girl had thrown herself out of the door, letting out a yell with her knife drawn. Joel wasted no time to body slam the kid into the wall. He was acting solely on reflexes, and what he believed to be an apparent threat.

Ellie had fallen against the floor pretty hard, slightly winded from Joel throwing her into the wall. She slowly pulled herself up from the ground, her breath staggered as she looked up at the barrel of the gun, and the threatening, brooding man that possessed it.

You could see the fear strike the young girl's eyes from where you were standing. You knew Joel wouldn’t shoot a kid. His thumbs were nowhere near the trigger.

“Joel?” Marlene asked, clutching her side where a bullet wound had penetrated the skin tissue. She was in disbelief that he was there.

“Marlene?” He answered back, the barrel of his gun still pointed directly at Ellie.

Ellie had tried to grab her knife from the floor, but Joel immediately slammed the toe of his boot over it just as she reached for it. He gave her a warning look, a stern one.

You and Tess stepped around the corner, your guns at your side. Neither of you saw the situation at hand as a threat.

“So this is who Robert screwed us over with?” You asked, stopping a few feet behind Joel. “The Che Guevara of Boston? I mean, war must be going pretty fucking shitty for you to be buying from scumbags like him.”

“Yeah, it obviously has been.” Marlene quipped back. She had never been a fan of yours, and you weren’t the biggest fan of hers either. Not when the stunt her and the fireflies committed yesterday, resulted in you being thrown in lock up.

“The merch was bad,” Marlene continued, “and he obviously didn’t take “fuck off” for an answer.”

Joel’s boot was still firmly pressed down on Ellie’s knife, his gun now pointed at Marlene.

“Gimme my knife.” The teenager demanded.

“What do you need a car battery for?” Joel asked, not even paying attention to Ellie’s request.

Ellie went to grab her knife from under his boot and as soon as she did, Joel’s gun was trained back on her. A mix of annoyance and displeasure crossed his face.

“Don’t.” He warned.

Marlene and Kim immediately raised their guns at Joel. Yours and Tess’s quickly followed.

“Not at her. Point it at me.” Marlene requested and by her expression alone, and the strained tone to her voice, you could tell this wasn’t just some other kid. There was always something more to the story.

Ellie’s arms were raised up against the wall, she had fear deeply rooted in her dark brown eyes.

“Joel.” You calmly spoke, stepping around him, placing your hand on his arm, coaxing him to lower his gun. He begrudgingly obeyed, looking over your shoulder at the terrified teenager with a raise of his brows.

Marlene let out a visible sigh of relief when Joel had lowered his gun away from Ellie.

“To answer your question, I need the battery for a better reason than you do. No offense Joel, but Tommy’s just one man.”

Joel didn’t like her answer one bit. Not one fucking bit. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean Marlene? That’s my fuckin’ brother you’re talkin’ about. You’re the cause of it. You turned my own fuckin’ brother against me.”

Your eyes were focused on Ellie as she slowly brought her arms down from the wall. She briefly made eye contact with you, and you gave the teenager a reassuring nod to stay put. Don’t move. Stay where you are. You’ll be safe.

“We were gonna move Ellie outta the zone tonight. I know what I did Joel. This goes further than Tommy, than you and I. Than all of us combined here.”

“Yeah? By the looks of it, you aren’t gonna make it far with a wound like that Marlene.” You scoffed under your breath.

Marlene gave you a disapproving look, focusing her attention back on Joel. “So now I’m thinkin’…you’re gonna do it.”

“The hell we are—” Joel was cut off by Ellie’s immediate rebuttal.

“I’m not goin’ with them!” Could you really blame her? You wouldn’t want to go with them either if you were seemingly held captive, with a gun pointed at you like that. She was just a kid. You seemed to be the only one at the moment who recognized this.

“Who is she?” Tess asked.

“To you? She’s cargo.”

“We don’t smuggle people.” Was Joel’s immediate response.

Ellie looked around nervously, her eyes locking on yours once more. You seemed to be the only friendly face to her at that moment.

“There’s a team of fireflies at the old State House. I know what’s out there. We were going with an entire squadron for that exact reason. Now I don’t have a truck, and I sure as hell don’t have a squadron.” Marlene sarcastically gestured to the dead fireflies on the ground in the hallway.

“FEDRA’s five minutes away. They surely heard all that gunfire, Joel. What I do have? Is you. I know what all three of you are capable of. For better, or for worse.”

“Joel.”

He turned slightly to look at you, shaking his head. “No. We don’t smuggle people Gwen. We fuckin’ don’t. This ain’t the time to be the hero, alright? We’ve wasted enough fuckin’ time already. We’ll just have to get a battery another way.”

“What are they capable of?” Ellie asked, uncertainty in her tone.

“She’s just a kid Joel. What’re we gonna fucking do? Just leave her here?”

“I fuckin’ said no. That’s final.”

Marlene tried to reason with him one more time. “You get her there safely, and they’ll give you what you need. Not just a battery. The whole fuckin’ thing. Fueled-up truck, guns, supplies, all of it. I swear.” To your ears, it sounded like too sweet of a deal. To Joel, it sounded like the best news he had heard in awhile.

He looked down at the kid then, seeing that she might be the ticket to finding his brother. He kicked her knife off to the side, far from her reach.

“Asshole!” She looked up at him, annoyance written all over her face.

You were already reaching down to help the teenager up from the floor, Joel had grasped your arm, tugging you back up, giving you a warning look.

The three of you briefly discussed it along the wall. It was clear then that Ellie would be coming with you.

“Okay, here’s the deal. We’ll get her to your crew at the State House. However, before we hand her over, they give us everything we want. If not? We kill her. Right there and then.” Tess spoke.

“Deal” Marlene agreed with zero hesitation in her tone.

“Really? That fucking fast?” Ellie spoke in disbelief. You could see the distrust she immediately felt for Marlene. For throwing her now to some complete strangers. You sympathized with the kid for that reason.

“Go and get your backpack. Now, Ellie.”

Ellie pulled herself up from the ground, grabbing her backup from the other room. On the way out, she shoulder checked Joel, bending down and grabbed her knife before she continued down the hall.

“Joel, don’t fuck this up. Please.” She begged him.

Joel gave Marlene one look, with no response before he turned on his heel, and headed down the hall.

It was pouring outside as the four of you left the building. Joel walked behind you and Ellie, while Tess was in the front. You walked back to the apartment in a haste, opening the door before ushering the kid inside, closing it behind her.

“Was it really necessary to say that we’re gonna kill her? C’mon. She’s just a fucking kid. We’re not gonna kill a kid. That’s fucking ridiculous and you both know it.” You spoke, leaned against the outside wall with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Didn’t I tell you back there that this is no time to act like the fuckin’ hero? Can you just listen for once in your life?” Joel spoke, annoyance in his tone.

“We’re not fucking killing a goddamn kid Joel.”

“Fine. What’s the plan? There’s the short way, or the long way. We’re gonna have to stop at Bill and Franks to reload on ammo and supplies, after we deliver the kid to the fireflies.”

“What if Marlene was bluffing? I’m not saying she was, but that was an awful big promise she made back there. If she’s lying, and there’s no fireflies at the State House, then what are we gonna do?”

Joel let out a deep sigh, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Guess we’re just gonna have to figure that out if it gets to that point. Huh darlin’?”

“Just think it would be smart for us to think of all the possibilities.”

“That’s why you’re the brains of the operation.” Tess chimed in. “Marlene seemed too desperate to be bluffing. This kid is obviously important to the fireflies for whatever fucking reason that may be.”

“We’ll leave after dark. Take the old route out of the QZ. I’ll tell you both one thing right now. I will not be fuckin’ riskin’ my life for this kid. You got that? Not a fuckin’ chance.”

Tess rolled her eyes while you let out a low scoff. “Yeah, alright Joel. No one’s asking you to risk your life for anyone. Don’t go and get your panties in a twist Texas. Now listen, you guys stay here. I’m gonna go home and let Bea know I’ll be gone for a few days. She can meet us at Bill in Franks. I’ll radio her when we get there.”

“Sounds good. We leave at nightfall then?”

“Nightfall. See you in a bit.”

Tess headed down the stairs, and out of sight. Just as Joel was grabbing the door handle, you stopped him, backing him against the wall.

“Hold on there now cowboy. Before you go in there, can you please try and be fucking nice? I know you’re pissed as all hell that Robert sold the battery, and now we’re in this. You gotta remember that’s a kid in there. Not an adult. A fucking kid. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Here we go again.” He grumbled.

“Do I have to fucking repeat myself Joel? Be fucking nice.”

He scoffed under his breath, letting his hands grab your waist firmly, pulling you flush against his chest. “Fine. I ain’t gonna enjoy doin’ it though. I want you to know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, grumpy. Whatever you say.”

“Cut that attitude before I do somethin’ about it.”

You shut him up quickly then with a surprise kiss to his cheek, before you slipped out of his grasp and opened the door to the apartment.

You could hear him mutter distinctly under his breath, “fuckin’ minx” before he followed you inside, closing the door behind him and locked it.

Ellie had already been snooping through the apartment, she looked slightly guilty as she held a thick book in her hands titled, “The Billboard Book of Number 1 Hits.” you gave her a reassuring nod before heading down the hall to gather up some things. Leaving the teenager with Joel.

“So, who’s Bill and Frank?” she asked curiously as Joel strode past her, throwing his backpack down as he sank down onto the couch.

“The radio’s a smuggling code, right? ‘60’s song, they don’t have anything new, ‘70’s they got new stuff. What’s ‘80’s?” Man, this kid was pretty sharp.

Joel didn’t respond as he rose from the couch, walking over to her and snatched the book, slamming it shut, and threw it down on the table with a harsh thud.

He wasted no time to head back to the couch, flopping down on it without a care in the world. This kid, this cargo was already a fucking nuisance in his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Killin’ time.”

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out.” He spoke with his eyes closed.

She picked the book back up from the table, walking past him. “Your watch is broken.” Ellie stated the obvious.

You and Joel had the same idea of taking a quick power nap. Conserving your energy was a smart move.

Joel awoke to Ellie sitting alongside the chair by the window, looking out at the street below.

“You mumble in your sleep. Just thought you should know.”

Joel grunted in response, slowly sitting up as he rubbed his shoulder.

“I’ve never been on the other side of the wall.”

Ellie felt like she was talking to a fucking brick wall. She sensed some form of comfort. Anything she could find at that moment.

“You guys go out there a lot?”

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. He had no particular interest in engaging in any sort of conversation with this kid, but he’d do it for you.

“I guess.”

“When was the last time?”

“Maybe a year? What’s it matter to you?”

“But you know where to go. So we’re going to be okay.”

He finally looked up at her then. He could sense her uncertainty just by the way she looked at him. His face softened, just for a moment. “Yeah. We’re gonna be okay.”

“What’s the deal with you anyway? You some bigwig’s daughter or somethin’?” He asked.

“I guess you could say I’m something like that. Sure.”

Silence.

“Oh, the radio came on when you were sleeping.” She casually stated.

This caught his attention immediately.

“What? What was the song?”

“He kept saying something like, “wake me up before you go-go?”

“Shit.” He whispered under his breath, looking down at the floor.

Ellie looked over at him, a smirk spreading across her face. “Gotcha.” she spoke in victory. ‘80’s means trouble, code broken.” She whispered the last bit.

Just as Joel was standing up, clearly not impressed with the kids' antics, and very much annoyed, you emerged from the bedroom, backpack slung on your shoulder, and the front door of the apartment unlocked, revealing Tess.

“Relieved to see you didn’t kill each other.” You mused.

Joel let out a huff as he grabbed his own bag, slinging it over his shoulder as you tossed him his coat. “You’re hilarious, darlin’”

“That’s cute and all guys but we really gotta get goin.’ If this all works out, Bea is gonna meet us at Bill and Franks, three days from now.”

“Anything for love, right?” You spoke, looking at Joel.

“Jesus Christ. I thought by now you guys would surpass the whole honeymoon stage.”

“Shuddup, Tess. I know you agree with me.” You walked over to Ellie. “We gotta take the underground system to avoid FEDRA. You got a coat in your bag kid?”

Ellie nodded.

“Good. Put it on.”

The four of you crept out into the night. The rain had let up some but there were still low rumbles of thunder in the distance.

The tunnel system was dark, and musty, but the three of you had used it many times. You knew it like it was the back of your hand.

Joel was the first to emerge from the ground, helping you out, then Ellie and Tess.

Ellie was shook to her core that she was actually outside for once as she stood up, looking around in childlike amazement. “Holy shit. I’m actually outside.”

In a flash, you grabbed her arm, bringing her back down to the earth. “Hey. Don’t be stupid, alright? You want to get yourself killed?” Ellie shook her head. “That’s what I thought. You stay low, alright. Stay close, and follow my lead.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She spoke apologetically.

You gave her a reassuring nod. “Alright, let’s go. We’re not out of the woods yet. Last thing you want is to get thrown in lock up, kid. Trust me.”

FEDRA was on full patrol tonight. Armored trucks, helicopters whirring above. It would actually be a goddamn miracle if the four of you weren’t caught.

Just when it seemed like you were all safe, you turned a corner, seeing a FEDRA officer urinating on a concrete wall.

Fucking fantastic.

Once the officer turned around, zipped up his pants and pulled his visor up. He was shocked to see you, Joel, and Tess.

“You gotta be fuckin’ shittin’ me.”

“Okay, let’s talk this out. Lower your gun man. Ain’t no need to be pointin’ that at us. We can talk this through.” Joel spoke with his hands raised.

“Turn around. Get on your fuckin’ knees. Get on your fuckin’ knees!” The officer demanded. The brightness of his flashlight shined painfully in your eyes.

“Hold on. Take it easy—”

“What did I fuckin’ tell you, man? I said stay the fuck home. Get on your fuckin’ knees!”

You grabbed the sleeves of Ellie’s jacket, gently pulling her down onto her knees beside you.

“Listen, you let us do this run? We’ll split the cards with you. I swear on it.” You spoke, turning your head to look over your shoulder at the officer.

“Oh, will you? That’s fuckin’ rich comin’ from you Gwen. Shut your fuckin’ mouth and turn around. Put your hands on your head, eyes forward.”

The four of you obeyed, and when you could feel the coolness of the device used to check residents for the cordyceps infection along your neck, you turned around, looking up at the officer. “You fuckin’ serious right now? Is this really necessary?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart. We’re doing this by the book.”

He had scanned the three of your necks, one by one. Just as Joel started trying to reason with the officer again.

Once he got to Ellie, it all went by in a blur. She had stabbed the officer in the knee in one swift movement with her knife.

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

Joel was already standing protectively in front of Ellie, his hands raised as the soldier pointed the barrel of the machine gun at him.

“We can fix this!”

“Get out of the fuckin’ way. Move!” The soldier demanded

Joel could already hear the ringing in his ears, his heart rate quickening. Sarah’s distant screams filled his mind. The bullets, her body tumbling, her blood, the bullets, her body tumbling, her blood, the bullets—the bullets—the bullets—

Suddenly, Joel lunged, tackling the officer to the damp ground with a loud grunt. His fists collided into the soldier's face, over and over again. The bullets, her body tumbling, her blood, the bullets, her body tumbling, her blood, the bullets, Sarah—baby girl, I have to get you up—Tommy, help me!

Joel continued to throw punches, he had completely blacked out from rage. The trauma of the night he lost his baby girl, took over his senses. There was no stopping him. Each time his fist collided with the soldier's face, you could hear the sickening crack of bone, blood spurting, the soldier’s pained grunts.

You knew what your man was capable of. It came as no shock, but you hadn’t seen him this feral before.

Ellie stood behind the scene, watching in disbelief. Her eyes held no fear. Each punch Joel threw, awakened something in her. To see someone go this far in lengths to defend her? It was something she had never experienced before. No one had ever protected her like this before. She loved it.

When Joel finally came to his senses, he was breathing heavily over the deceased soldier. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated. His knuckles were severely bruised and coated in thick crimson. He looked over his shoulder at you, then at Ellie and Tess.

The device on the ground had turned red. Ellie was the last to be checked—no, it couldn’t be. She wasn’t infected. Why the fuck would Marlene entrust you with an infected kid? There must be some mistake.

“No no! I’m not sick! I’m not sick! Please, I’m not sick!”

“JOEL!” Tess yelled, holding up the device.

“I’m not sick! I’m not sick!” Ellie pleaded, pulling the sleeve of her shirt up to reveal her bite mark. Even in the dark, it looked different than the typical bite marks you had seen.

“Look! Look! This is three weeks old! I swear! Nobody lasts more than a day!”

You moved in front of Tess, grabbing the teens arm as you quickly inspected her bite mark in disbelief.

“When did this happen?!” Tess demanded.

“It doesn’t fucking matter! You have to trust me! Please! Please trust me!” Ellie begged.

“That’s enough, Tess! That’s enough! We have to get going, right now! They’re gonna catch us if we don’t run!”

You looked over at Joel, who was observing his bloodied up knuckles, you could see his trembling from where you stood. “Joel? Joel! We have to move, now!” You walked over to him in a haste, placing your hand on his shoulder. “We have to go right fuckin’ now, baby! C’mon!”

He snapped his head up towards you, understanding what you were saying. He stood up, grabbing the deceased soldier's machine gun, and strapped it over his shoulder, using his good hand to urge you forward, towards the opening in the perimeter fence. “Go, baby! I’m right behind you darlin’! Right behind you!”

A loud crack of thunder boomed overhead as the sirens wailed in the distance. The four of you had slipped through the hole in the metal fence, just as the skies opened up once more. Blinding you with a torrential downpour from the heavens.

Radio turns on, static. “Never Let Me Down Again” by Depeche Mode starts playing.

80’s mean trouble; Bill and Frank.

The four of you quickly ran through the fallen city, Joel by your side, and Ellie and Tess in the front. You glanced at each other momentarily as you ran. Even through the pouring rain, and whipping wind, you held eye contact for a fleeting moment.

Chapter 15:

[satocidal]

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞 𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

��� 𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒<3

(factual speed run!): Rome is — 18, South Asian, entp (7w8), favourite colour? Red and Gold but what’ll you do anyways…she/her, a full-time-student—STEM, raging bisexual, bilingual. This is, as per my indecisiveness, a multi fandom blog now hehe

˚ ༘💭⋆｡˚ — (what’s goin’ on in that gorgeous brain of yours?): Rome is thinking — of her husbands and wives<3 especially of Suguru Geto because just about men who hate your guts and will also rearrange them for you makes me horny. In an eternal poly relationship with SatoSugu and honourable mentions to my side bae Shoko.

(music that is blessed!): Rome Listens to — Hozier, Mitski, Cavetown, Artic Monkeys, Lost Stories, Zeph, Nanku, The Yellow Diaries, Neighbourhood, Young The Giants, Catfish and the bottlemen, Hoosiers, pat!d, lumineers, one direction, Lorde, Mother Mother, Wallows, Girl in Red, Marina, Alec Benjamin

— 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠:

—my general likes: coffee and tea, vanilla scented things, sour candies, psychological thriller, mangas, maths and physics and classic literature, drama, random silly little debates on mundane topics, star-gazing, watching sun-rise, organised phones, raspberries, men who are smarter than, women who are stronger than me, late night walks, hot showers, watching people do makeup (because I can’t), doing my hair, dancing, silly little skirts, caramel flavoured things, pasta, baking, a lot- like a lot of academic validation&lt;3

—my general dislikes: conservatives(or that’s still ok but don’t come @ me with your views),furries, chemistry, people who shove their opinions into others, misogynists, rad fems, gabi haters, sadly- eren💀; incels, homophobes and islamophobes; any sort of discrimination

— 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠:-

—What I will write:

most genres at any given time- angst, fluff, smut. I do accept requests and will write anything ranging from drabbles and Headcanons to longer fics (+2k words); I do age up all my characters (given I mostly write for adults anyways) even if there’s no smut; I am fine with most kinks too, just check what I don’t write for a heads up.

It may that you sent a request and I never worked on it or maybe even said I would and then nothing ever happened, I’m sorry but sometimes that’s how it is. Often I don’t have enough motivation and I’m an ask-hoarder so even as I write, I have month old asks stored in—it’s nothing personal at all in fact I may just corporate your ask/request/thirst in a longer fic as I please (sorry not sorry my love)

I’m fine with writing angsty stuff too, blood and gore, character deaths, polyamory, character x reader x character or character x reader; I usually write Fem! Reader unless requested otherwise (I’m not experienced much with Male! Reader though);

my reader inserts are always fem! Bodied and devoid of any other particular physical features (may sometimes be defined as chubby but yes); dub-con; concept of physical/mental abuse (works will be properly tagged or trigger warned)

—What I won’t write: water sports; monster fucking(may hold exceptions); omegaverse; indulgence in bodily fluids (except blood and cum); rape; non-con; pedophilia; incest, any kind of discrimination; scat; lolli-con

—What fandoms I work on: Shinjeki no Kyojin; Boku no hero piko; Jujutsu kaisen; Haikyuu!!; Tokyo Revengers; Bungo Stray Dogs

“Rules”:

i love terms of endearment and use them indiscriminately so if there’s an issue, do lemme know and I do talk a lot in general but don’t barge into my inbox with slurs or “bitch/slut/whore” when and if we don’t know each other)

Do not, I repeat, do NOT bring discourse to my blog <3 about other writers, my mutuals or anything

It may be that I make you uncomfortable or vice versa, in which case I do encourage talking it out and voicing your issue but if you’re not big on that, soft-block and hard-blocks are ok with no hard feelings because I’m huge on curating your own experience

If you wanting to hard-block/soft-block me, it’s ok but please by all accords don’t leave me following you because that’s just weird

don’t send hate because 1. It doesn’t matter to me 2. I’ve better things to deal with and you look stupid

𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒’𝑠 𝐻𝑢𝑠𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠:-

— Geto Suguru, Satoru Gojo, Hanma Shuji, Rindou Haitani, Kokonoi Hajime, Jean Kirsten, Erwin Smith, Nanami Kento, Oikawa, Kuroo, Chuuya and Fukuzawa + I’ll find more <3

[mingi-bubu]

25. Kiss Inspired by a Song

for this one, i just hit shuffle-play on my “Life Influences” playlist which has artists like Catfish and the Bottlemen, COIN, HUNNY, Hippo Campus, All Time Low, etc etc. on it.  The song we’re using today is.... “I Love You So” by The Walters doyoung x reader even though he doesn’t actually show up in this, past taeyong x reader, mark and johnny our fave besties, angst with no happy ending, this really ended up being more a (platonic) mark scenario too which is why i tagged it along w/dy, 2.1k 76 Kisses Masterlist~

Walking back to your apartment after a long shift wasn’t unusual.  He always said he’d pick you up, and about half the time he did.  But more often than not, he was pulled away or distracted by something else.  You let out a sigh, tilting your head up slightly to take in the dark gray clouds above you.  You could feel in your bones that a thunderstorm was about to roll in.  Granted, the meteorologist said as much during the weather segment on your local news channel.  But, you’d prefer to think that your bones hold some ancient, divining power and you aren’t just experiencing the effects of atmospheric pressure changes.  It’s something to keep you somewhat distracted from the hollow disappointment that you were feeling.

You kick a rock, watching as it skitters a few paces ahead of you.  People pass by you, as preoccupied with their own lives as you are with yours, and pay no notice.  You catch up to it, and kick it again, just to have something to do.  You were lucky that it hadn’t started raining yet.  That would definitely put a damper on your already subdued mood.  You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you pull it out to see that your friend was calling you.

“Yo,” Mark says when you pick up, “how was work?”

“Work was fine,” you say, your tone falling flat.  You step off to the side, next to a lamppost, to take your call.  “Pretty much the same as it always is.”

“Ah, dude, that sucks,” Mark says sympathetically.  You like Mark.  He was very good at making you feel less shitty because of his very golden retriever constitution.  “You okay?”

You hesitate, the standard “I’m fine” not being able to pass your lips.  “He didn’t pick me up.  Again.”  Your words come out choppy.

“Do you need me to come get you,” he asks immediately.  You can hear the sound of his old, wood-framed couch creaking as he sits up.

A small smile breaks across your face, touched at how Mark didn’t even have to think about it.  But the smile, as soon as it’s there, it’s gone.  “Nah… I’m walking back.  It’s not raining yet, so it’s fine.”

Mark hums an affirmative.  “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you say.  You take another look at the sky and step into the stream of people.     It’s better to keep moving to be as close to your apartment as you can before the rain starts.  You want to talk to Mark, tell him what’s been bugging you this whole day, but you can’t find the words.  He seems to get it, and stays quiet on the other side of the line, waiting for you to get your thoughts worded out right.

“It’s just,” you start, taking a sharp inhale.  “It’s just that he always does this, you know?  He goes on and on about how he’s sorry for forgetting and that he’ll definitely get me next time, and then I’m left walking back.  Or catching a ride with you, which is unfair to both of us.”  You pause, waiting to see if Mark is going to comment.  When he doesn’t, you continue.

“Like, in everything else about our relationship, he’s perfect!  Or, well, most everything else, I suppose.  Doyoung is good at planning and organizing a calendar.  Which is something I needed after my breakup with Taeyong.  Doyoung’s structured lifestyle gave me an anchor to hold onto when I felt like I was just floating aimlessly through it, you know?”

“I remember,” Mark says.  He sounds sad, and you know he’s thinking about all the times he would crash at your previous apartment just so that he knew you were eating more than Ben and Jerry’s.

You come to a stop with a small group of people at a crosswalk, the light having just turned to a ‘DON’T CROSS’ right as you got there.  You shift your phone to your other ear.  “He was good for me, I think.  At least, he was in the beginning?  You helped me, so much, but he did, too.”  ‘CROSS’ appears, and you hear the steady chirping sound for the visually impaired start up.  “He got me out of that selfish-”

“Not selfish,” Mark interrupts.  You two have had this talk many times.  He maintains that you weren’t being selfish by taking care of yourself after your breakup.  You think that the way you were able to call off work for a week was selfish; in a lot of industries, you wouldn’t be able to.  It helps that your boss was also one of your best friends.  And that the two of you sort of worked for yourselves.  Johnny had come up with the bespoke fashion, but you were in charge of sourcing material.  Luckily, the week that Taeyong broke up with you, you and Johnny were up to your eyeballs in tulle and crinoline for a wedding dress.  The dress had been the only project that you were working on for that month, so a week off wasn’t going to do too much damage to Johnny.  He was probably the better person for the bride to speak to anyway.

“He got me out of that slump I was in,” you correct yourself, leaving the crosswalk behind you.  “And for a while, it was good between us.  Doyoung was what I wanted, what I needed, in a partner at the time.  And I was surprised at how well we clicked!”

“Not as surprised as me and Johnny when you told us you were moving in with him just two months into your relationship,” Mark says.

“That’s fair,” you say, “I did kind of just… spring it on you guys.”  You sidestep a pair of moms with one of those strollers for twins.  “But I’m thinking I’m going to start packing up my shit when I get back to my apartment.”

“Oh?”  Mark sounds shocked.  “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” you say, suddenly tired.  “It’s just that, like, recently he’s never not just present with me?  I guess?  He always seems like he’s on the phone with someone else, and I don’t think a Valerie or Jolene work in his office.  I’m almost ninety percent certain that those are two of his exes.”

“What makes you say that?”

You think about it for a few seconds, recalling the look on his face, in his eyes, when you asked who he was talking to.  You were never accusatory when you asked, but the way he reacted told you everything you needed to know.  “He always looked like a startled rabbit when I asked.”

“Fair play,” Mark agrees.

“But also,” you say, going back to the previous topic, “I know what it feels like when it’s time to go.  Someone always leaves first, you know?  I guess this time it’s me.”

“Do you,” Mark starts, then cuts himself off.  “Are you going to be able to pack your things and leave him behind before he gets back from work tonight?”

You wave away his worried question, forgetting for a minute he can’t actually see you.  “It’s chill.  He’s leaving for the weekend on some business trip.”

“Business trip or business trip?”  You know him well enough to know he was waggling his eyebrows at the question.  It cheered you up slightly, knowing that he could tell you were alright enough for him to make that joke.  As soon as you decided you were going to pack your things up, you were already one foot out of the door in your relationship.

“Honestly?  I’m not totally positive,” you reply.  You let out a small, frustrated groan at being stalled by a crosswalk sign again.  “But like I said, it’s chill.  He’s supposed to be coming back tonight and leave in the morning.  And with the way he is, everything he’s bringing with him except his toothbrush and stuff are already packed.  He’s not going to be looking through the drawers and closet for any clothes.  I’m probably not even going to start with clothes anyways.  Those will be the easiest, so I can leave them to be last.”

“You want help,” Mark offers.  “John and I can swing by tomorrow.  We could probably get you all packed up and out of there before Saturday night even begins if Doyoung’s leaving early.”

“His flight is at seven, I think,” you say.  “Thank you.”  You ignore the lump in your throat forming from the care your friends have for you.  Especially with this being the second most messy breakup you’ve had that they’ve helped you through.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you as you continue your walk home.  It isn’t an incredibly long walk, but twenty minutes is twenty minutes, you know?  It’s nice that it’s rather cool out because of the waiting storm.

You break the silence again.  “Sometimes, you know, I feel so… so dumb for getting into this kind of mess.  Like, it feels like I have a flashing, neon sign pointing at me that says “Hi!  Look at me!  World’s Best 21st Century Fool for Your Entertainment Right Here!”  I shouldn’t be getting into these messes constantly.”

Mark scoffs.  “First of all, you do have that sign pointing at you, but not because of your relationship history.  It’s because you almost twisted your ankle, even though you were literally just standing still.  Secondly, it’s not your fault that Doyoung has been cruel to you.”

You interrupt Mark quickly.  “He hasn’t been cruel!”  You defend Doyoung.

“What do you call blatantly talking with one’s exes in front of their current partner with no remorse, then?”  Mark fires back just as fast.

“… shut up.”

“Listen, YN,” Mark says, tone suddenly serious again.  You break off from the crowd again, leaning up on the brick wall of some hotel or restaurant or office building.  With a measured voice, he says, “You are not beholden to the decisions he makes for himself.  You have so many possibilities ahead of you, with or without him.  And you have friends that care about you and want to help.  What he chooses to do in this relationship, the ways he disrespects you, are not a reflection on who you are as a person.  They’re a reflection of him.  You don’t have to put up with this just because you love him.  If someone truly, actually loves you, they wouldn’t put you through this shit.”

You sniff, holding back the tears that started sometime during his speech.  “Mark Lee, when did you get so worldly,” you joke.  Both of you ignore how watery your voice sounds.

As if sensing you needed one last push for a proper emotional breakthrough, he says haughtily, “I feel like the possibility of all those possibilities of being possible is just another possibility that can possibly happen.”

You snort, and the dam breaks.  “Shut up, oh my god,” you say through the mix of laughter and tears.  “I’m banning you and Johnny from hanging out together.”

“You can’t do that!”  Mark protests, and you can hear the relief and smile in his voice.

“I can and I will!”  You drag the end of your jacket against your jeans to create a little sweater paw, so you can wipe your face.  “You’ve been banned!  No more Johnny for you!”

You and Mark joke around like that for those remaining last minutes of your walk to your apartment.  You step out of the elevator and walk up to your apartment.  The bright lemons on the welcome mat feel like such a juxtaposition to what will come to pass in the morning.  “Hey,” you say, fishing your keys out of your pocket and unlocking the door, “thanks for this.”

Mark’s voice softens.  “You know I always have your back, YN.  Me and Johnny both do.”  There’s the sound of a door opening and plastic bags rustling faintly from the other side of the line.  “I gotta go.  Renjun just got back with today’s dinner.  I gotta get my share before the others swarm like locusts.  John and I will see you in the morning!  Bye, YN, love you!”  Mark says.  He waits just long enough for you to reply, “Love you, too, Markily.  See you soon!” before he hangs up.

You kick off your sneakers, and walk into the kitchen.  You pull out your favorite mug from the cabinet next to the fridge and start making hot chocolate.  After adding cinnamon, marshmallows, and some whipped cream, you go to the living room and affix yourself to the corner of the couch.  As soon as you get comfortable, pillows in the right spots and blanket laying nicely over you, the storm starts.  You watch the rain patter against the window as you sip your drink, feeling more settled than you had that morning.

[jamminvroomvroom]

19🫶🏻

7 - catfish and the bottlemen 🫶

throwback to my super cool teen angst years

[heeracha]

13 , 27 , 35 , 49 , 69! LETS GAUR

13. Do you listen to music while you write? if yes, what have you been listening to recently?

i've been listening to indie lately, esp the nbhd, boy pablo, catfish and the bottlemen, if u guys want a playlist i can maybe do it,, but most esp ben&ben's "ilang tulong nalang" and more songs that remind me og jongseong

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

✨self-indulgent✨ uhh, slowburn omg T_T and angst,, idk for some reasons some people say i do good with angst even back then, and now,,, ehehehehe

35. What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

uh,,, this dad!jay scenario T_T idc if i a simp. it's jongseong, ofc im sa simp T_T

49. What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

omg uhhh i asked my friend bcs idk :> so she said, ymtm is the very go to,,, but she also added if u dont want to be traumatiz3d, then go with botm T_T

69. What are your favorite fics at the moment?

this will always be my number one. idc how many blogs i make, how many times i change blogs, this will always be my number one: who you are, who i am by @jeonginks

your scenario of making up with jay after a fight.

um all of @goldenhypen 's works.

@ddeonuism 's deuce! and let my love run wild

just check my fic recs T_T im so slow with thinking when im asked but when i willingly recommend its just,,, there right away T_T

send in fanfic writing asks !!

[hannieween]

HI HI!!!

i'm so happy to see city lights be associated w/ arctic monkeys i always listen to them when i read it 😭😭 i also just looked at the playlist and when i saw a catfish and the bottlemen song on there i FREAKED i think midnight haze would sound so much like them !!!!!! esp the song 7 by them during the angst chapters (>﹏<)

ogdjnfkdng i'm rambling but i also heavily associate the song love is (not) easy by chase atlantic w/ city lights i think that song is so them before they confessed because of the lyric "the type of friends who fuck but when they fall in love they're too afraid to say" _(:3 」∠)_

but yeah anyway i love your works and the worlds that youve created in them your mind is truly amazing and i dont think you get enough praise for being such a consistent updater too. but i hope youre not too busy and taking breaks as well!!!!

– 🧸anon (could i be 🧸 anon if you dont have one already?? ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡）

hi hi hi hun!! 💟

omg you do?!?! ugh i am sending you a big hug, join into our group of crazy people rambling about joshua singing r u mine, pls 🫂

ohh i'm going to listen to your recs!! i'm listening to 7 right as i'm typing this hehe... oh, oh, i like this!! i'm adding it to the playlist rn! IT'S SO JOSHUA AND READER CODED OMG, especially reader? cause her avoidant personality haha i love this sm! thank you nonnie!

now, love is (not) easy... okie i'm listening. oh, this is... sexy. oh i'm reading the lyrics too. it IS so city lights coded too! omg?! i love this so so much!! thank you for you recs!

thank you so much beautiful nonnie! thank you for your beautiful ask, your comments! thank you for reading 🥺🫂💓

i'm taking a break at the moment! don't u worry, hun. stay safe you too! take care!

i love you!! hope to see you around in my little writing corner! <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>♡

honestly the chase atlantic song is making me feel things

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Dom Malin’s new alt-rock anthem ‘Surface’ unites everyone feeling left on the outskirts, determined to finally be seen

With past offerings like the folk, reflective ‘All I Know’, the emerging artist Dom Malin has never been afraid to make his emotions known, let alone share them for the world to hear. With his newer singles ‘Fever’ and ‘The Sea’ continuing to resonate, Dom’s work is always gliding between intimacy and feel-good spirits, never quite sticking to one same genre and yet his work only thrives more for it.

His newest bearing of soul radiates through ‘Surface’, an alternative-rock based anthem that carries through both a warm familiarity and a stark rawness of sound all in one. From an introductory moment that’s lightly reminiscent of Catfish and The Bottlemen, Dom pushes through a slowed tempo with steady drums and relaxed, slightly fuzzy electric guitar strums, setting up the track’s bristly downbeat energy instantly there to connect with. Between the loud volumes and the tenderness of the sound, something about ‘Surface’ feels disjointed from the get-go, a blend of intimacy with angst that leaves you questioning what’s awry while the sound strives on regardless. But if you listen deeper, Dom’s soft, lightly gravelly vocals deliver the missing piece: ‘always on the outside, the outcast looking in.’ The verse also simmers for this emotive halt, flowing through resounding bass twangs, gentle drums and intermittent electric guitar strums, progressively building back up in intensity and self-esteem both through sound and lyricism alike.

Singing of his time kept on the outskirts, Dom’s lyricism slowly begins to reveal a lifetime of trying to belong but always feeling left out, truly just yearning to find the people who understand him as he is. Through the pre-choruses questioning, he asks: ‘what am I, a voice without feeling?’ After so long kept at arms length, it’s no surprise that his words and confidence seem to be slowly fading away, wondering if those around him even view him as human at all. But the sound builds for a moment where he cannot be ignored any longer, a chorus that interrupts anyone and everyone who ever deemed him not enough, paving a way for those who need someone when they’re left just as alone and forgotten.

Through rising crashing drums and more dominant guitar strums and bass, this anthemic, chant-along moment really reaches its most prominent high. Sure to be a real crowd-pleaser in the universally relatable lines and catchy hooks, ‘Surface’ is the embodiment of everything that’s built-up for years without answers or much-needed company. If you want a tune somewhere between bold and personal, then ‘Surface’ and it’s authentic message is one you won’t want to look over.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[tractorbeamofwoe]

A/N: got a request on tumblr to write a hurt/comfort Van fic (although this is more hurt and angst than comfort) and I decided to base it on Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo. Enjoy :)

Word Count: 1277

***

The problems started when Van was spending less and less time with me. Whenever I called him out on it he'd always shrug it off with "she's just a friend" "we're just friends" but it was clear to me that he cared for her much more than a friend.

Sometimes it felt like I was just the friend. The friend who he lived with and shared a bed with. The friend who got up and made him coffee in the mornings and the friend who would pick him up from tour.

"Who are you texting?" I'd ask

And it would always be "Oh just a friend."

And then I'd always point out "But you never text Bondy or Larry that much, they're your friends aren't they?"

And again he'd dismiss it "Yeah, course, she's just talkative that's all."

Then when I'd tell him to pause things, wrap up the conversation to watch TV with me and eat the dinner I'd cooked for him that was already going cold, he'd always sigh and reluctantly shove his phone in his back pocket only to have it back out again two minutes later.

It was infuriating.

So when it came to ending things, I had to take charge and confront him. It was kind of ironic really, because for the last few months things had been awful and we'd be arguing constantly and only when I wanted to break up with him did things start getting better. In a way it was also planned, because I wanted it to be unexpected. I wanted it to hurt him as much as it hurt me to sit there and watch him slowly fall for this other girl while not being able to do a single thing about it.

He'd put in the effort to take me out for dinner, but drove us home early because he didn't like my attitude. Well, I didn't like him texting his "friend" about where we were and what we were doing, but we can't always get our way.

That was when I told him it was over and he was livid. We had possibly the worst screaming match we'd ever had but it was refreshing and I'd needed to get everything off my chest for a long time.

"Goodbye Y/N." He huffed, packing his bags and slamming the front door. I know I shouldn't have, but I began smiling as a wave of relief just washed over me. Like some weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It wasn't meant to be, and while it hurt, it would heal and I'd move on. Right?

The bedroom window was open and I could hear Van on the phone outside, grumbling about needing to be picked up because he'd just been dumped as he scuffed his boots on the tarmac pavement feeling sorry for himself.

"Good riddance." I called, though not directly to him, as a car pulled up and Van got in, greeting the pretty blonde girl in the driver's seat.

For the first time in a while I had a deep sleep, no tossing and turning as I tried to switch off and stop worrying about what tomorrow might bring. Now the main problem was resolved, I finally had the chance to start working on myself. I was going out more and reconnecting with old friends, I was more productive at work and I was cooking different meals for myself every night.

But trouble shortly followed just a fortnight later as I was doing a nightly scroll through my socials before bed in the summer heat, about to brush my teeth and turn out the light when a post caught my eye.

"Van McCann spotted with new girl" was the sentence that stood out to me and I couldn't help but laugh to myself. I considered liking or reposting it, knowing it would become some sort of gossip amongst fans, who had no idea we'd even broken up.

As far as anyone else knew, it was just a polite acknowledgement of the fact that we'd both moved on, but Van didn't see it that way and he started blowing up my phone 20 minutes later with angry texts and missed calls.

Van

"What the fuck"

"Pick up"

"Pick up right now"

"Y/N answer the phone"

"For fucks sake"

There was no avoiding it, and no point riling him up either. I had no choice but to pick up when he called again, his words fuelled with so much hatred I could practically hear the spit flying from his lips as he hissed down the phone.

"You know I'm not calling to make amends so don't try and play innocent cause I've got some fucking words to say to you, alright?" He sounded like he'd had a couple of drinks, the end of his sentence slurred a little. He never loses his cool under stress, which made me a little worried, but he wasn't mine to worry about anymore and right now he couldn't care less how I was doing.

"Why the fuck would you go stirring up rumours and shit with the fans? We're done, we're over now and I'm happy in my relationship. Block my fucking number I don't want anything to do with you, you clearly just want attention."

His words stung, but I wasn't going down without a fight. "Why don't you just block me?" I retorted, raising my voice and waiting for it to echo through before Van argued back.

"Well I don't know Y/N, you tell me. If I block you you might spin it into another one of your stories to make me look bad." He spat, petty as ever and I really didn't see the point in arguing with him when he wasn't even thinking straight. But I guess there was still some bad blood between us that needed to be addressed.

"If you didn't wanna look bad, maybe you should've thought about what you were doing before you started flirting with your new woman in the middle of our relationship!" I screeched, rolling over and getting out of bed to open the window. My room was still too hot and it was getting on my nerves.

"What, you're saying I'm some sort of cheater? You're the one who broke up with me over a fucking text message with a friend!"

"Well I wouldn't know if you'd slept with her or not, you never fucking told me anything! I think I was right to end things considering how quickly you ran to her afterwards!" I didn't go back to bed then, I wasn't relaxed enough to sleep anymore, instead I slumped down in the chair beside the window and left the phone on speaker on the other side of the room as Van continued to rant and rave.

"Well I don't even feel bad and I would never take you back even if I did!" Was the last sentence he came out with before I couldn't take any more. I darted from my seat and snatched my phone back from where it was laying on the mattress.

"Fuck you Van!" I yelled before hanging up and blocking his number. I huffed as I turned out the light, angrily throwing myself onto the bed and scrunching my eyes shut in an attempt to speed up the process of falling asleep.

That was the last I ever heard from him and sometimes I found myself wondering if things might have been different.

Perhaps if he'd used his head and I'd listened to my heart we could have made a change, worked things out.

Or perhaps we were doomed from the start...

[leatherjacketvan]

Back to You

A/N : This was a request! Thank you for sending it in! I hope you enjoy it! It’s super long but I felt the need to be detailed. Also, it’s poorly edited so I apologize. Enjoy! :)

*** The Past

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!?”

Shocked and confused you both stood in the comforting space of your living room. However, the tensions from the heartbreaks you both were now in the face of made your home feel far from a sanctuary.

“I- I can’t do this! It’s too much. I feel like our relationship is living off of borrowed time!” You replied, trying so hard to gulp all your feelings down. But they were bursting through like a busted water pipe and there was nothing you could do about it. No matter how hard you tried to keep it all in.

“So what? You’re breaking up with me!? Is that what this is!?”

“Van. . . I- I don’t know. I don’t know what this is. I just can’t keep pretending we’re okay. We’re not. . .”

“Everything’s been pretty fucking great for me! Why? Am I not good enough for you now?” He sneered. He was bitter and cold and it hurt to see him that way.

“Van. Calm down! We can’t talk when you’re acting like this.” You replied solemnly but sternly.

“Calm down? Y/N, you’re the one who’s breaking my heart right now! Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!”

“Van. . .” you replied. You sat down on the couch, a wave of emotions hit you like a tsunami. Sobbing into your hands as if you were a child. This was never what you wanted. But it was something that you felt that you needed to do.

Your brain always treated you with logic not with tenderness. You told yourself you couldn’t do this anymore.The constantly being away, the burdensome feeling you had when you weren’t around him, not knowing what the future would even hold for the both of you considering how you couldn’t seem to move past the fact you may never have or even want the time to just settle down. You convinced yourself it was the truth. . . that these were all valid reasons to leave. Maybe it was. . ? It felt like it was. . . You’re brain was all warped over the idea of losing him. You loved him. . . right? Yes- of course you did! How could you not? He was bright and kind. Caring for you and always there when he could be. But that was the thing ‘could be.’

He was constantly gone for long periods of time. You were constantly traveling back and forth for work. You loved him. . . yeah. . . you really did. But it made your brain melt and your heartache whenever you thought about all the times he was never around. Or when you were never around.

You sat quietly after you started to calm down from the wave of panic that had just possessed your body. He walked over to the couch, sat down right next to you and sighed heavily. Letting out a strange whimper as he began to break down too.

“Van, you know I love you. . . right?” you said softly. He pulled you into a tight embrace as your head faced the floorboards. He cried into your shoulder. You couldn’t dare to look him in the eye.

“Yes, Y/N. I know you love me. I love you too. . . I just don’t understand. . . Why are you doing this?” he replied, his voice was melancholy and strained. Both of your emotions were filled with innocence and desperation, which made the situation all the more devastating

“Because, right now. In my life. . . things are changing. I’m gone all the time, and so are you. I miss you constantly. I hate when you leave. Hell! I hate when I leave. . . But I worked so hard to get where I’m at. . . and so have you. Neither of us should have to compromise our careers for each other. It wouldn’t be fair. . .” you began.

“Van. I think you need to let me go. . .” you turned up to look him in the eye. But he was already staring into yours. His had become ghastly pale, his frame was slumped. His cheeks blushed from the sadness.

“I- I. . . can’t, Y/N. I love you. . . I love you so much I can’t-” he broke his words with a soft sob. You held him in your arms this time. The moment was so sappy but it was now a reality. And it was terrifying to think you were just going to leave one of the best things that ever happened to you. And that you were breaking not only yours, but someone else’s heart.

“Van. . . I’m gonna leave. It’s what’s best for the both of us. I know it. I think deep down you know it too.”

“You can’t!” he said, an absolute mess.

“Van. . .” you said sternly. You grabbed his face and intently looked him in the eyes. Your nose was all runny and your face was all red and puffy. You were far from a pretty crier. You knew that. He knew that too.

“Van, ju- just think! For one moment. . . . please. . . just.” you signed heavily. “I love you, I always will. You’re one of the best things to have ever happen in this lifetime of mine. And I say that without a fucking doubt in my mind. But if we keep this up. We’ll never be okay. Things will just get worse.”

He sighed heavily, he pulled your hands away from his face and held them gently in his.

“You’re going to leave me?” he whimpered.

“I think we need some time apart is all. I know this doesn’t feel right now, but Van I know it is. You can focus on yourself now. You can let me go. . . I promise.

I understand if you hate me. I hate me for doing this to us. . . But in the long-run. This is what’s right.”

He looked down at your hands, his thumb rubbed over the ring he got you for your last anniversary. It marked three years of your love for one another.

“You promise?” he mumbled.

“What?” you questioned confused.

“You promise, that no matter what. . . you’ll never take this off? Please. . . promise me.” he said solemnly.

“I promise, Van.”

*** The Present

You sat upon your brand new sofa and took a deep exhale of relief. “Finally!” you exhaled.

You sat in your new apartment. You had just got done decorating. It was finally a home now. All your records were organized by genre, artist and then release date. Your kitchen was now prepped for you to cook actual food, instead of takeout that you’d been eating for the past few weeks as you settled into your new place. Your bed was made up and your bathroom was stocked with all your essentials and favorite things. You had finally moved in.

The past few years had brought a lot of new perspectives into your life. They way you wanted to live it and so on. . . It was no longer a struggle to figure out the next step like it had been for so long. Because you had realized something. . . Life was too unexpected. And to map it out down to the smallest details was only causing you stress and even more stress. You got sick of living like that. So you decided to finally just let live. You weren’t old by any means- but you were getting older. And you were at a point in your life where you had to be a real adult now. Even though you’ve had a continuously climbing career, you decided to settle down for awhile. Maybe you’d change your mind in a few years. . . who knows?

You sat back and relaxed as you opened the bottle of wine that you had been saving for this moment. You filled your glass and slowly sipped on your pricey Rose. The dinging of your phone abruptly came from the coffee table. You slowly leaned over and picked it up to see a text from one of your long time friends, Quinn. You’d been college buddies, and she definitely made your homesickness a lot better whenever she was around.

“You’ll never guess who the FUcK is in town rn!!!” - Quinn.

“Idk is it ur creepy uncle who wears the button downs but without buttoning them? Because if it is. . . I’ll pass :)” - Y/N.

“No! … thank god. . . but Y/N like for real!!” - Quinn.

“Okay Q. . . who is it?” - Y/N.

“Y/N. . .” - Quinn.

“I’M GETTING IMPATIENT NOW! WHO???? Spill it!” - Y/N

“Y/N. . . it’s Van. . . :/” - Quinn.

“. . .” -Y/N.

“Do you want me to come over? I know how much you hate to talk about it. . . He’s only here for a few days anyway.”

“. . . yeah. You can swing on by. . . we’re going to need more wine tho :/” - Y/N

“Of course girly :) I gotchu. . . always. <3 .” - Quinn.

You gulped down your glass and set it to the side as you began to just drink straight from the bottle.

You stared into the blankness of your wall. You didn’t understand why you were so caught up about Van still. It had been years, afterall. He’s probably moved on by now. After you split ways with Van you didn’t really keep in contact much longer, afterwards. Their was the occasional ‘I think I left my favorite perfume at your place.’ or ‘ Mind if I drop by? I think I left fifa at your place.’

Your work had you flying around a lot after that. Going from city to city every other day for a few months at a time. That’s when one day you had the enlightening realization that it was all becoming too much and that you should just settle someplace for awhile. Which is exactly what you did. And something about you settling down now, without Van, made you feel a deep guilt that built up in your stomach.

The door opened and Quinn walked in. She sat down next to you and let out a deep sigh. “Men amiright?” she scoffed, taking her own beverage from the bottle too. You both looked at each other. Then at the ground. You just started to laugh. It started off as a small little breathy scoff, and then laughter just erupted from your lungs, and you couldn’t stop. You were practically screaming you head off with laughter like a madman. Quinn just sat confused.

“Quinn.” you paused mid-laughter.

“I’m fucked. . .” you sighed.

“Y/n. . .” Quinn muttered trying to get your attention.

“Yeah?”

“I think you still love him. . .”

“. . . I think so too.” you replied softly.

You both stared at each other once again. Eyes glassy and scared.

“What if he doesn’t love me anymore.” you asked desperately. It felt pathetic to say aloud.

“I think love always finds a way back to you. This just doesn’t happen to be a very convenient coincidence? No I don’t think so. This was meant to happen.” Quinn said.

In college you studied multimedia and she studied psychology. So your more meaningful conversations always ended with Quinn reciting something philosophical and you agreeing to it even if you had no idea what she was even talking about.

“I’m gonna go call him.” you murmured. You got up from the couch and walked into your bedroom. Scrolling through your contacts you found his name. The lame little eggplant emoji that Van forced you to put in his contact name was still there. You took a deep breath as the dial tones began to ring.

“Hello?” he spoke.

“Uh. . . hey.” you replied awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” he asked.

Your heart sunk into your chest, you regretted this. This just felt like a mistake. “Um. I think you might remember me. . . It’s Y/n.” you spoke softly.

“Y/n!?” he replied enthusiastically. It made your stomach fill with butterflies the way he said your name.

“My bad. I just got a new phone, don’t have a lot of contacts in this thing yet,” he laughed.

“Van! Hi, I hope i’m not intruding on anything. . . Uh. . . um- a friend of mine told me you were in town.”

“Me and the lads just landed in Chicago.” he replied a little lost.

“Yeah. . . I -uh. Moved back home.” you said.

You grew up in the States your whole life. But moved to Chicago for University. You first met Van in Chicago and he always thought it was where you grew up. You never bothered to correct him on it.

“You moved back to Chicago?” he said. The tone in his voice had shifted from perky to solemn.

“Uh- yeah. Recently though.” you replied.

“Oh. . . um. . .” he said aimlessly.

“Yeah! Anyways- what a weird coincidence. Ya know. . . the timing and all. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to see each other while you’re here? It’d be nice to see you again.” you said.

“Of course, Y/n! How about tonight? We don’t play a show until tomorrow and it’d be fantastic to see ya.” he said cheerily.

“Yeah of course! Sounds great!” you responded.

“Awesome! I’ll text you a time and place,” he spoke.

“Yeah Van, I’m looking forward to it,” you said. A feeling of sadness had overrun your body at the sound of his sweet voice.

“. . .”

“Yeah. . . me too. Catch you later Y/n,” he said.

The line went dead and you felt colder than normal. You walked out into the living room. Quinn sitting on the couch with a smirk on her face.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

You scoffed, “I don’t know, how do you think it went? I know your nosy ass was listening in on every word.”

“I think it went pretty damn well if you ask me,” she replied.

“. . . Yeah. I hope so. . .”

Later that night you peeled out of your sweatpants and t-shirt and into something more casual. You were meeting him at some bar called ‘Patty’s.’ Van always made poor choices when it came to finding new places. He loved the dive bars. But, in your opinion, they just seemed like every girl’s worst nightmare. Sweaty old dudes checking you out. Mold growing on the walls of the bathrooms. Those sorts of things.

You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse, but really you were just trying to avoid the situation you whole handedly put yourself into.

When you got to the bar you were running late. You took a short walk from the train to the place you were supposed to meet and every now and then you would stall to ‘catch your breath’ or ‘adjust your shoe.’ Anything to postpone that awful feeling in your stomach. It was guilt and you knew it. . . It began to eat you alive ever since your phone call.

You walked up to the bar, took a deep breath, and walked inside. You looked around. It was noisy and old rock music was blaring from blown out speakers in the background. You looked over to your right. There he was. You felt your chest sink into your stomach. A few empty glasses already cascaded the table he was sitting at. You slowly approached him and saw the look on his face brighten when he saw yours. You took a seat across from him and began to prepare for an uncomfortable night.

“Hey” he said. He had a huge grin on his face, like a young kid when they see their crush. It made you crack a sad smile looking at that goofy lovable smile of his. The one you let down all the years ago.

You took a seat across from him. An awkward silence was held between the both of you. You had no idea on where even to start.

“So. . . what’s new with you?” he asked politely.

“Oh. . . a lot currently. I just finished moving in and I start work again at the office in a few days,” you replied. trying to make innocent conversation.

“Chicago, huh? What made you want to move back here?” he said. Only a few words in and it already felt like an interrogation. But you knew you owed him at least an explanation as to where you’d been and what you’d been doing all this time you’ve been apart.

“The past few years I’ve been all over. I just got a little homesick I guess,” you replied.

You could hear a slight breathy scoff come from under his breath. “What happened to not wanting to settle down?” he muttered as he stared at his glass somberly. He was starting to come off a rude and quite judgemental of your decisions, but his eyes were glossy and he looked so lost in thought. You could tell he was still hurt. Even after all this time.

“You’re right. . . I didn’t want to settle down. But, I don’t know maybe now I do,” you replied.

“So. . . Does that mean you’ve been seeing someone?” he questioned. He had the same negativity in his tone, but he spoke calmly.

You sat quietly, feeling the intensity rise “. . . No Van, I haven’t really thought about that part of settling down.” you replied.

“Oh. . .” he said softly circling the top of his whiskey glass with his finger.

“But how have you been?” you interjected into the uncomfortable silence.

“Oh. . . I’ve been great. Yeah,” he bluntly replied. You could tell he didn’t really want to come here for small talk, despite the happiness in his tone when you talked on the phone earlier. You thought he would’ve just loved to tell you what he’s been up to. But deep down, you knew you were foolish to think your guilt wasn’t going to come up to bite you in the ass.

He wanted something more.

“I’m glad to hear that.” you said, nodding your head with a soft smile.

“Yeah. . . Ya know. . a lot of songwriting, we’ve got a new album dropping soon.” he stated.

“That’s awesome Van! I’m happy for you! How are the guys by the way?” you replied.

“They’re all good. Bondy’s laid of drinking a little bit. Larry is. . . well. . . still Larry.” he chuckled awkwardly.

“That’s awesome! It’s good to hear you’re doing good!” you said cheerfully.

“Yeah. . . I mean, why wouldn’t I be?” he retorted.

“I mean- I. . . I don’t know.” you replied nervously.

You both sat silently for a good moment.

“. . . Van. What’s on your mind? You seem a little tense,” you mumbled out.

“. . . Yeah, well, here we are.” he replied coldly.

“Is it because you want to talk. . . like, about us?” you asked. You could almost feel your bones shaking and the goosebumps forming on your skin.

“Yeah. But uh- not here. I don’t want to talk about it here.” he bluntly stated.

“Okay. . . well we could. . . I don’t know maybe go back to my place?” you mentioned.

“. . . yeah, um. . . okay.” He replied.

You looked down at your hands as you fiddled with your fingers. A nervous habit of yours. He slid out from his seat and you followed suit. You slung your bag over your shoulder and the both of you headed out of the front door of the lame dive that you were so glad to finally be leaving. This wasn’t exactly how you planned on leaving it though. But then again, you had no idea what you expected to happen.

You and Van walked side by side, occasionally bumping into each other from the lack of distance between the two of you. You folded your arms in front of one another to make sure your hand wouldn’t accidentally meet his.

You walked down to the train and waited an awkward five minutes in somewhat silence as the Amtrak slowly approached.

When you got back to your building. You fiddled with your keys. Shaking a little bit as you tried hard to hide your nervousness. But when it came to Van, you could never seem to hide your emotions very well.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” he asked concerningly.

“Uh- yeah” you chuckled “New keys, you know how it is. . . that’s all,” you stuttered out. He nodded his head as in ‘yeah. . . alright.’ He could tell you were a nervous wreck. But deep down inside he was too. If it wasn’t for the intense pregaming he probably would’ve been acting the same way.

You finally made your way into your apartment. You tossed your keys into the dish next to the doorway and walked over to the kitchen. He followed behind you as you began to look through the cupboards for some alcohol. Preferably something with high content. The quicker you weren’t sober. The better.

You grabbed a bottle of vodka for you and some whiskey for Van. You didn’t bother with shot glasses. Not that you were sure you had any, anyhow. You grabbed two regular glasses and began to walk out into the living space. You plopped down on your couch like you had earlier that day. But this time in an entirely different situation. With entirely different thoughts running through your head. He sat next to you. And you just sat in silence as you both poured drinks.

“So. . . um. You asked me earlier if I’d been seeing anyone. How about you?” you asked.

“‘Course not,” he replied.

You let out a little laugh, trying to break tension. “How come? You’re a fine lad. I’m sure the ladies are all over you. I know they were when we were-” you stopped mid sentence. Instantly regretting that statement.

“When we were together?” he replied.

“Uh- yeah, I guess,” you mumbled out, embarrassed.

He let out a little laugh. “No. I haven’t really found anyone all that interesting. I haven’t found anyone worthwhile,” he replied.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, taking a long gulp of your strong beverage.

“Not to sound cocky, but you should. You’re amazing Y/n. No one could ever come close to you,” he softly spoke. You looked up at him. You forgot about how much his eyes glimmered in soft light.

“Bullshit! I’ve met plenty of girls who are way cooler than I am,” you replied with a calm laugh.

“Oh, so you’re into girls now I take it?” he snickered.

“Van! You know what I mean,” you replied with more laughter.

“Yeah. . . I suppose so,” he sadly replied.

“But I don’t think there will ever be someone quite like you,” he said. He took a strand of hair from your face and pushed it aside. You awkwardly looked down, not knowing how to respond.

“Y/n- I.” he stopped as he looked down at your hands that had made their way crossed upon a pillow. You looked down too. On your right middle finger sat the ring Van gave you.

“You still wear it?” he asked. He looked shocked, happy, and sad at the same time. An odd expression but one that you instantly detected.

“Yeah. . . of course! We made a promise. But do you know how much of a pain it was to keep track of it with all my travels.” You laughed.

“Y/n- I can’t believe you actually kept it,” he replied with a soft smile as he held his hand in yours.

“It was three years of undying love, remember?” you smirked.

“Yeah, I remember. I remember how you called me corny for saying that. . . but it was the truth,” he smiled.

“And it-” he stopped. Looked down at your hands and then back at you.

“Even after all this time, I still feel like maybe it is,”

You couldn’t detect why, but all of a sudden that guilty feeling rolled all throughout your body. You became a little flustered on how to respond. Before you knew it, you had tears in your eyes.

“What’d I say!?” he interjected; concerned.

“Oh God, I don’t know! It’s not you. . . Well I mean it is but it isn’t,” you began. Van instantly wrapped his arms around you; tightly.

“I know. I know. It’s okay,” he said. Comforting you.

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke. It came out a little bit raspy as you still tried to stop yourself from actually crying.

“No Y/n. Don’t be. . I. . .” he began to speak as he loosened his embrace and his eyes met yours. Your face was all red and your eyes were puffy. You were an ugly crier. You knew that. So did he. . .

“I think you were right. About having distance. Even if it met losing you for awhile. When I first heard your call I about freaked out with happiness. I couldn’t contain it. I couldn’t believe it was you. Y/n I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. When you left. . . I thought maybe I could move on, but you’re the one. You’ve been stuck in my brain for what feels like centuries. And now that we’re here. Together.”

You looked him in the eyes once more as he held your face in his hands. He had a hopeful grin on his face as he looked right back at you. You leaned in closer. His lips caressed yours as he softly kissed your lips. But the intensity was astronomical. He pulled your body closer to his as if you were weightless. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. Returning the gesture. You paused. Looking at him with a flirty smile.

“You know I heard this cheesy thing, but I think maybe it’s true,” you spoke

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Van replied with a cheeky grin.

“It goes like ‘no matter what love always finds a way back to you’ or something,” you said.

Hand held your hand and squeezed it tight. Giving you another passionate kiss on the lips before saying “I guess now both of us are corny lovers” he chuckled.

You leaned once more.

“Yeah. Maybe we are…” you smirked.

[catfishandthebottlefan]

#8 - Kids

A/N - This is my first attempt at writing angst... I thought I’d play on Van’s reaction to finding out you can’t have kids. I wouldn’t recommend reading this if you think it may upset you. ~ A x

“Van.”

“Yeah, babe?”

“We need to talk.”

The time is 8pm, and you’ve been harbouring the dreadful news since 10 o’clock this morning, when you were urgently called into the GP’s surgery. You didn’t know how you could tell Van. He’d had his heart set on having kids and being the best dad to them as possible.

You couldn’t give him that.

The dull ache in your chest becomes even stronger, tightening around your lungs and suffocating you with every breath. As Van walks into the bedroom, your attention is completely focused on breathing deeply enough as not to faint and fall off the edge of bed on which you were balanced precariously.

“Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay?” Van asks, bursting through the door, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, no, no,” you gasp, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” asks Van, his voice becoming more panicked as he sits down next to you, “Do what, Y/N? Are you alright?”

The worry in his voice breaks you once more, a pain searing through your heart like a dagger.

“Van, I can’t be with you anymore,” you sob, “I can’t lie to you all this time, I can’t-”

“Hey, hey,” Van says, attempting to stay calm, “What is it? We can get through it, I’m sure-”

“We can’t, we can’t,” you continue, your head swimming in the pool of emotion inside of you, “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do, I-”

Van gets off the bed and kneels at your feet, looking you straight in the eyes. He takes your hands in his and grips them tightly.

“Y/N, stop.” he says, assertively, “Take a breath and tell me.”

You gasp for air between the sobs.

“You can tell me anything, you know that,” he continues, “But, please, spit it out. We’ll get through it, if you’ve been seeing someone else I get it, I know I’ve been away a lot and I-”

“No, Van, no!” you cut him off, “It’s not that, but, it’s not something we can fix, it’s completely unchangeable, and it’s not fair on you, and I’m sorry.”

Van grips your hands tighter.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Just tell me.”

“I, I can’t,” you stutter, “I can’t have-”

You take a deep breath.

“Van, I can’t have kids.”

You then burst into tears, and Van leaps up beside you, cradling your fragile body as you collapse into him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t give you a family and-”

A tear of both relief and sadness runs down Van’s face, but he wipes it away quickly, before placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you in the eyes.

“Oh, Y/N,” he says with clear sadness in his voice, “It’s okay.”

“But it’s just not though, is it?” you cry, “I can’t give you children, and I know how much you want them. A little boy to play football with in the garden, a little girl to sing with-”

“We can still do it, Y/N,” he reassures you, “We can do IVF, we can do a surrogate, we will find a way, just like my mum and dad did with me-”

“I’m sorry, Van,” you sob, your voice rising with anger. You slap your stomach angrily. “My stupid, infertile, stupid body!” 

“Hey, hey!” Van pulls your hand away, “Don’t do that, it’s not your fault.”

“Whose fault is it then?” you shout in anger.

You stand up in front of Van as he sits on the bed.

“It's my fault! My stupid, fat, ugly body! It can’t even give me what normal women can do, what’s the point in existing if I can’t bring new life into the world, I hate my fucking self, I-”

“Y/N!” Van shouts, “It’s not your fucking fault, alright?!”

“I can’t do this, Van, I just can’t be with you anymore, you need to be with someone who can give you what you want, what you need-”

“You are what I need!” Van shouts, standing up, “You’re only thinking of yourself and how you feel!”

You don’t feel angry at Van, only yourself, yet your rage boils up to your mouth until you are spewing indescribable insults and hollering threats at him. 

“I only think of myself?” you bellow, “I don’t even want fucking children, Van, it’s you that bangs on about it all the fucking time, it does my head in!”

“I fucking don’t!” Van shouts back, “I don’t go on about it all the time! Am I not allowed to talk about things that make me happy?”

“So I’m not enough for you, is that what you’re saying?” you continue, “I’m worthless to you if I can’t give you children?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, you never listen to me!” he almost screams.

“You don’t get it at all, do you?” you holler back, “All I fucking do is listen to you! Talking about music, FIFA, Larry, stupid fucking kids, what’s for dinner, your family! When do you ever let me talk? Listen to me?!”

“Stop it, Y/N! Just fucking stop!” Van shouts.

His tone becomes quieter and calm. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

Your fists clench in anger that he’s backed down, but more so in anger at yourself for shouting at Van. As he slumps against the bedroom door, you notice his tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. 

You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise.” Van says softly.

“I’m not angry at you, I’m angry at myself, for not being able to give you a family.”

You slide down the wall until you are sitting next to him. He takes your hand in his.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you.” he says, his voice wavering, “I’m so sorry.”

You look into his deep blue eyes, which are once again filling up with tears. 

“It’s okay,” you say, then try to lighten the mood, “I started it.”

“Y/N,” Van says, sincerely, “If we want to start a family, we will go through other avenues, okay? We can do IVF, hell, we can even adopt.”

You sigh.

“You see I, I was a test tube baby,” Van sings softly.

“That’s why nobody gets me.” you whisper, “But I get you, Van.”

Van pulls the sleeve of his button-up shirt over his hand and dabs gently at your face, drying any tears.

“It’s all gonna be okay.” he says, reassuringly.

“I love you,” you sniff, “I’m sorry for shouting at you-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Van interrupts, “for going on about having babies and a family. I didn’t stop to think about what you wanted.”

“I was angry, Van,” you reply, “All you do is think of me. All those songs you’ve written about me, all the albums you’ve dedicate to me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Van replies, “It’s only because I love you so much. It means too much when you get angry at me.”

“Can we,” you sniff, hiccuping, “Can we just, can we just pretend this didn’t happen? This whole argument. It was silly.”

Van nods.

“Tea?”

“Tea.”

[catb-fics]

could you do any sort of hurt/comfort fic with Van? you have a fight, he cheats, etc? anything??? i am desperate!

You want me to write cheating Van? I can do - I’m just surprised as everyone normally wants a shiny angelic version ha ha!!! (Although I much prefer writing people with flaws because, let’s face it, that’s life!)

I’m currently writing a story where the relationship is quite jealous/obsessive and leads to a break-up… let me know what you have in mind if you want something different! Been writing this today but think it’s gonna end up a long one and it’ll prob take a while…

* * * * *

"I'm not lying! I didn't sleep with her!" Van shouted back, pushing back against your efforts to propel him away. "You've got to stop this bullshit Y/N! Every time. Every fucking time! I can't cope with it anymore!"

Your eyes met his, holding him in a challenge whilst he was still at arm's length. "Well, maybe you won't have to anymore!"

He went slack then, the pressure gone as he stepped back, his face stony, his jaw set. When he spoke his voice was quiet, muted, wary sounding. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

And what did it mean, really? It wasn't the first time you'd given each other ultimatums. It was almost like second nature to hurl out threats at each other during an argument.

I'm leaving you...

It's over...

I never want to see you again...

The same old lines, recycled over and over like a broken record. Of course in the heat of the moment it was raw, you both meant it, but you never stuck to it. The attraction you both felt for one another was too strong and before long you'd be back together, lips scorching skin, Van's hips thrusting against yours, sweat-soaked and needy.

I need you baby...

I love you so much...

I'd never leave you...

This time however was different. You felt tired, worn down, just so fucking exhausted. Of course you knew that with Van's level of fame there were bound to be girls. They stalked him, often incessantly. And he was so goddamn nice, he'd never say no. He'd always be there, a hand around their waist, a sweet smile for a photo, a hug and a kiss. And you hated it.

[nancys4gf]

shaking from the rain | steve harrington

summary: — stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain, she'll open up the door and say are you insane. Taylor Swift, How You Get The Girl. + cause i'd rather go blind than let you down. Catfish and the Bottlemen, Cocoon.

pairing: steve harrington x gender neutral reader

warnings: a lil angst

note: i'm definitely projecting on this one. this exact scenario happened to me not long ago except the person i was waiting for never showed up lmao. enjoy!!! (also, does it make sense that the reader forgave him so fast? honestly if steve harrington cared enough to show up that would be enough for me lol)

̟ ̇.˚︵‿୨♡୧‿︵˚.✩

“where’s steve?” robin asked, looking around the bar. you shrugged, gaze fixed on the drink on your hands.

“he’s not coming.”

“what?” nancy blurted out. “why?”

“he’s busy. he had to work.”

“at nine pm on a friday?” 

“he took an extra shift.”

“on your birthday?”

you didn’t respond, ignoring the way your friends shared a worried look. robin placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping it softly.

“is that why you were so upset today?”

“i guess.” you sighed, looking up at the girls sitting next to you. “i just wanted him here, you know.”

“i’m going to kill him.” robin stated, and nancy nodded fervently. you forced a smile, playing with the lemon slice in your drink.

“we’ll have a great time, okay?” nancy reassured. “this is your special day. everything’s going to be alright.”

your friends started talking again, doing their best to cheer you up, but you weren’t paying attention. your gaze was fixed on the bar’s open door, watching as people hurried through the streets, seeking shelter from the pouring rain. 

it wasn’t fair. your closest friends were there, taking you out for a nice night, celebrating you, showing you how much they loved you. and yet it was not enough.

you felt terrible, wanting more, asking for more. but you couldn’t help it. he wasn’t there. the person you wanted the most in the world was the same person who hadn’t shown up.

robin called out your name, waving a hand in front of you, but you saw right through her. everything around you seemed to suddenly blur. the crowd froze, the music turned into a faint echo, and you could see nothing as clear as you could see the figure standing outside the bar.

steve, shaking from the rain, his hair and clothes completely soaked, desperately looking inside the room. looking for something. looking for you. 

before you realized, you were standing up and running towards him. his face lightened up as soon as he caught your gaze, a grin making its way towards his face.

“steve?”

now, you both stood under the rain. only when you got close enough did you notice that he was holding a bouquet of rumpled flowers. shyly, he handed it to you.

“they weren’t supposed to look like that.”

you recognized all your favorite flowers, and hid your smile behind the pretense of smelling the bouquet.

“what are you doing here?”

the raindrops streamed down his face as he took a deep breath. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

“steve…” you whispered, all the grievance fading away as soon as his apologetic brown eyes looked into yours. “it’s okay. you need the extra money.”

he shook his head. “no, no. i don’t.”

he cupped your face with his wet, cold hands, and pressed a kiss on your forehead. the sudden change of temperature made you shiver, causing him to hold you even closer.

“everything i need is right here. i don’t need anything else. i’m so sorry. i should’ve been here.”

you nuzzled up closer against his hand, giving in to his touch and everything he had to offer. 

he had shown up. he had ran through the streets while it poured, bringing you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, as if he was straight out of a movie. and he had done it all for you. he cared. that fact alone made you feel even more special than the fact it was your birthday.

you gazed up at him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“well, you’re here now.”

“am i still welcome?” he smirked, leaning in.

“mhm.” you giggled, getting flustered by the feeling of his breath against your face. “robin and nancy aren’t too happy with you, though.”

“will you help me win them over?”

“that depends.”

“on?” he leaned in even more.

“on what you do next.”

steve’s eyes dazzled under the streetlights as he moved closer to you. your heartbeat pounded loudly against your chest, beating as the same rhythm of the rain.

brushing his lips over yours, but still not completely breaking the distance, steve whispered,

“happy birthday.”

[goldustwomun]

❥ = smut

✦ = angst

❋ = fluff

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he doesn’t even fit in with the decor.

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