#VanFiction

[vanmccannyoudome]

#1

It had been a while. A while since she had been to a gig, strangers swaying against you in the crowd, the air damp. A while since she’d seen him, floppy brown hair and infectious smile. A while since he’d touched her, gentle yet burning as his fingers trailed across her skin. He’d been away, album promo and an arena tour, taking him around the world. Tonight was his first night back in the country in months. Her stomach had erupted in butterflies when the short text came asking her to come to the gig, and when her backstage pass was dropped off to her house by a guy in a beat-up van with an unkempt beard.

There he was on stage, surrounded by his bandmates in front of thousands of people. A sold-out arena. Dressed simply in black jeans, Chelsea boots and a black shirt, with the first few buttons left undone at the top. So completely at home performing. The songs, guitar and drum heavy belted out of the speakers, inciting the crowd to bounce. He crooned the lyrics, his voice lowering intimately and straining to belt out the fast-paced choruses. His voice wove lyrical stories, casting a spell on everyone, but most of all on her. She could swear he was trying to enchant her. His guitar was nestled between his arms and against his hips and she hadn’t realised it was possible to be jealous of an instrument.

The frantic music and flashing lights came to a halt, and the band moved backstage leaving only him and his acoustic guitar. The song was low, slow. His fingers danced across the strings and his voice dipped and curled around the notes. This was her favourite song. Written about another girl, of course, long before they’d ever met. The lyrics were so intimate, so gentle and showed a different side to him than she’d seen before. This showed him completely, irrationally in love with someone. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he sang, soaking up the echo of the fans singing his lyrics back at him. He squinted as he looked off to one side of the front of the crowd. Sure it was a coincidence that it was the side she stood; she didn’t allow herself to hope he was looking for her.

When they had met, it was clear he wanted a good time, some fun and laughs and nothing to stress about while he went off to live his rock and roll lifestyle. They had fun, lots of it. Drinks in quiet, back-alley bars followed by evenings in his place, or hers. A day or two here and there when he had free time or when she did. FaceTime calls late at night full of flirty banter, discussions about life, politics, music. But there had never been any promise of anything more, and she had never asked for anything more. Or rather, had never dared to ask.

Something about their connection, the distance and time apart, and this intimate song made her heart flutter as his eyes kept wandering back to that side of the crowd. If he was trying to catch sight of her, his chances were hindered largely by the bright stage spotlight and her petite frame in the vast crowd. The song came to an end, punctuated by a discreet smile, one familiar to her. She had seen it the night he first asked to take her home, as she sipped on her drink and her heart pounded. She had seen it on FaceTime when their conversation dissolved into comfortable silence laden with tension. She had seen it as they laid tangled up in his sheets, early morning sun spilling over his face as he twirled a strand of her hair around his fingers. This song was now dedicated to her, his smile confirmed it.

The band came bounding back on stage, playing some of their most popular songs, the music crashing and the crowd going crazy. She followed the instructions he had left her in their text conversation. Find this door, see this person, show them your pass. The look she received from the security guard who led her through backstage conveyed his thoughts with abundant clarity. She was one woman in a long line of women led along the same path. How many artists, bands had paraded women through here for a quick shag, a night of fun. She tried to take that look with a pinch of salt knowing full well they were just having fun, yet knowing full well she was not just a quick fuck. Had he brought other women back recently? Since they’d met? She shook that thought off.

The corridors were long, vibrating to the music coming from the stage. The security guard opened a door, and the sound was once again deafening. Surrounded by equipment, wires, people, she stood in a spot in the corner that she was directed to. Her heart pounding, knowing he was coming offstage soon. Nerves, anticipation, excitement flooded through her, causing tremors to run through her. She leaned against a large equipment box, only for it to move under her weight. Several people saw her almost fall and shot her irritated looks. She kept her stare firmly on the ground as her cheeks blazed crimson. A familiar guitar riff rang through the air, signalling the song and the set were almost over. Fuck. The sound of cheers rang through the arena. No drums, no guitars, no beautiful voice. Just the crowd.

Loud laughter and laboured breathing neared. She peeked up through her lashes as she saw a slender figure deposit a guitar in a stand. Goosebumps. Her hair stood on end; her heart was pounding again. She met his eye as he stood in front of her, blue eyes blazing, skin glowing, brown hair soaking wet and flopping over his brows. Stomach flipping, she subconsciously held her hand in front of her, not sure what to do. She was right there in front of him, a sight for sore eyes. Having craved her touch, even just needed to see the contours of her face in person for so long, he didn’t want to wait. And he crashed into her. Hands gripping her hips and lips colliding with hers. He pulled her closer until there was no space between them, kissing her roughly.

She giggled ‘Hey, V- ‘

‘Shh’ He interrupted brusquely, then deepening the kiss.

She melted into his hold, her feet feeling as though they were no longer on the ground. She kissed him back, allowing his tongue to battle with hers. She inhaled his scent of cigarette smoke and musk, feeling intoxicated. And Jesus, he didn’t know if it was just the adrenaline, but he could swear he had never enjoyed holding someone, kissing someone this much before.

‘Van- ‘She began, pulling away as she began to remember her surroundings, the people around her who were strangers.

‘Shh’ He cut in again, mumbling against her lips. His hands ran from her elbows to meet her hands, interlocking tightly. ‘Just kiss me’.

And who was she to argue? That’s all she wanted too in that moment. Then he was pushing her backwards, guiding her with his legs on either side of hers, hands and lips still locked. She giggled against his lips in between kisses. Her back was against a door while he reached around to push the handle. They were plunged into the icy night air, a shock after the hot, damp air inside. His free hand dropped down to her waist, then lower to the hem of her dress. Her spare hand grabbed his soaked, sweaty hair in anticipation. Her thigh burning where his calloused fingers roughly stroked.

They were in a quiet corner outside, lit by a bright white light on the brick wall above them. He backed her against the wall, breaking their kiss to move his lips to her neck. She held her soft groans in, between her legs throbbing almost painfully. He bit the most sensitive spots, the places he had spent a lot of time finding, sucking and then licking to soothe when it smarted. Her breathing grew heavier as his fingers ducked inside her dress and up her thigh. She was hyper aware of him and his presence, only vaguely aware that anybody could come outside and see what they were doing.

The fingers that had tenderly strummed his guitar earlier moved her underwear to the side with such swiftness she wasn’t ready for the contact. She gripped his hand tighter as he stroked her over her most intimate area, nudging her legs apart. He was focused on refamiliarizing himself with her, her sensitive spots. It had been so long since he had seen her, touched her that he was worried he’d forgotten how to make her tick. He needn’t have worried, if her tight grip on his hair and hand, and heavy breathing was any indication. They’d just had so much practice; he’d replayed all those moments over and over in his head until it was impossible to forget. And as he stroked her in all the right places, he could feel himself desperate for more, to be even closer to her. Her perfume, the scent of her shampoo cloaked his senses and made him dizzy with comfort and with desire. His fingers moved in slow, lazy circles at first, gathering her wetness. Gradually his circles grew faster and more concentrated and her legs began to feel weak. Pulling his body closer to hers to pin her to the wall, she got lost in his kisses and what he was doing between her legs. It took an unusually short amount of time before she could feel her orgasm approach. As he kissed just below her ear, she fell apart. He watched her face, so beautiful in agonising pleasure. He watched how he made her feel, how only he could make her feel as he carried on guiding her through the intense fireworks. She stiffened beneath him and then relaxed around him as he milked her orgasm.

Again, she wasn’t even sure if her feet were touching the ground, it all felt like it was spinning around them. She felt his fingers gently cup her chin and lift it up until her eyes met his. As her breathing started to even out, the look in his eyes made her tingle in anticipation of what she knew was to come. Before she had the chance to kiss him again, his lips were already on hers, not wanting to waste another second. Privacy? They didn’t need it. Hotel? Too far away. He knew he’d missed her while he’d been away, but this connection and tension was insane. And well, she’d always been crazy about him. Her hands crept down his shoulders, dragging along his torso, fingers playing with his belt until her palm met the bulge in his trousers.

She began to pull his belt from the belt loops, struggling when she came to the buckle. At her struggle he became frustrated and rushed to get the belt open, quickly followed by his button and zip. Pulling his member from his boxers, he sprang free from the restraint of his jeans, urgent and desperate to just be closer. And fuck if she didn’t want that too. He gripped her shoulders and spun her round quickly, so quickly she stumbled in her heels. Feeling guilty, he steadied her and placed her hands on the wall in front of her. She’d always been clumsy. She held her breath in anticipation, throbbing between her legs as he pulled her dress over her bum and slid himself along her slit.

‘Ahh’ She gasped aloud as he pushed inside her, him groaning into her ear at the feeling of her hot, tight wetness pulling him in. His damp chest and hair felt cold from being in the night air as he pressed himself against her from behind and she just wanted more. He pulled out slowly as she adjusted to the feeling of being full after so long, and began to thrust into her. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t gentle. He pushed into her roughly and quickly, pulling her waist length hair down her back so that her head didn’t hit the wall as he fucked her. She couldn’t hold in her gasps and moans, her whole body felt like it was buzzing but her core was being assaulted with pleasurable strokes over and over again.

He needed to see her face. The one he’d searched for in the crowd while singing his most intimate and heartfelt song. The one he’d longed to see when he was 7 hours behind on tour in the States. The one he was desperate to touch and kiss while he looked at her through FaceTimes. He pulled out of her, taking care to spin her around more slowly this time to avoid a broken ankle in those sexy heels. Pushing her back against the wall, he slid his eager hands down her sides to her thighs and squeezed, gesturing for her to jump. She did, and he lifted her up against the wall, legs around his waist as he pinned her tightly to the cold, rough bricks. She cried out as he slid inside her again. They locked eyes while he fucked her once again, hardly pulling out but rather thrusting in as deep as he could. She could feel the brick wall leaving scratches on her back, but she didn’t care, loving the roughness.

This wasn’t quick and dirty; this was raw and urgent. Their eye contact confirmed that. His eyes told her he needed her. This meant something, but it could not wait. Their unbroken stare was a catalyst, she cried out his name as he furiously chased his peak. The feeling of her soft curves and warm cunt around his member undid him. He groaned as he came, reaching the end. He jerked against her, squeezing her bum.

The silence was only broken by their panting as the leaned against each other for support, feeling spent. Somewhere in the distance, they heard a crowd chanting some of his songs. He chuckled into her hair.

‘M sorry I didn’t last long darlin’; it’s been a while ‘ant it?’ She just shook her head, it didn’t matter. He pulled out of her, as he had softened, and his fluid seeped down her thigh.

Giggling, she stepped out of her underwear, holding onto his hand for balance, and wiped away his cum with them.

‘What the hell do I do with these?’ She wondered aloud, looking around for a bin, or somewhere to dispose of the soiled underwear.

He laughed as he zipped up his jeans and did up his belt again, then held out his hand. Hesitantly she handed them over to him, and he slipped them into his back pocket. ‘Let’s find a bin back inside, yeah?’

She giggled and stepped towards him to follow him back inside the building. He held his arm out behind him for her to grab her hand, but quickly spun around to face her.

‘Oh- hello’ He said, remembering he had interrupted her with kisses when she’d tried to greet him. He blushed slightly, feeling a bit rude.

She looked up at him through her lashes, a smile spread across her face with a hint of adoration in her eyes. ‘Hi.’

‘It’s so good to see ya, thanks for coming tonight babe’ He said, remembering his charm and manners. He had just gone at her like an animal, the least he could do was make up for it now.

‘Thank you for inviting me. You were so good up there.’ She stared up at his face. His eye bags which showed his fatigue, but his eyes shone bright, wide awake. His hair was starting to dry into waves falling over his face. ‘You look good, Van. Tour suits you.’

She wished he didn’t have to be away so much, wished that maybe he didn’t love being away as much as he did. She wanted to say more, but held back, not wanting to make things too heavy. She’d always been too afraid to spook him, scare him off. He saw it in her eyes, the many questions floating around that she was holding back. He wanted to give her answers, he wanted to give her anything she wanted.

‘It’s been great. But you know, it doesn’t have that Mexican bar, so...’ There was more he could have said, more he wanted to say. Like how maybe he loved tour, but this time round he found that he didn’t feel so free when he was away. Like maybe he’d missed her.

She giggled at his reference to their favourite place to go for tequila and margaritas when they hung out. She stared down at his feet, nervous that meeting his eye would give away just how deeply she felt for him in this very moment, his presence overwhelming, the feelings washing over and consuming her. He saw her hide a smile and wished she would look up at him. He’d imagined that smile for so long. He noticed her skin broke out in goosebumps and she began to wrap her arms around herself.

Her slinky black satin mini dress, with its skinny straps did everything to accentuate the softness of her curves, but nothing to protect her from the cold. Even as a feeling of protective tenderness overtook him, he still couldn’t help but notice her hard nipples and wish he was sucking on them. Albeit in a warm room.

He moved behind her and wrapped his hands around her front, cloaking her in his natural warmth.

‘Let’s go inside, yeah?’ He murmured in her ear, and all she could do was nod.

***

The dim light above the door lit up as she turned the key in the cottage door and jiggled it while shoving it open. She knew the little knack to it by now. He followed her through the gate and up the garden path. He was pulling a large suitcase behind him while struggling with two duffle bags slung over his shoulders.

The empty cottage was cold, having been vacant for months. She reached to her left and switched on the hallway lamp, then pushed the front door wide open to make space for him to come in behind her. He pushed the front door shut and dropped the duffels and suitcase on the faded rug.

The house may have been cold, but being back there brought feelings of warmth back to her. The times she had stayed over, listening to music, watching films, fucking.

‘Why don’t you go upstairs while I turn the heating on?’ He suggested, resting a hand on her waist and stooping down to place a soft kiss on her shoulder. The butterflies that had been there since the moment she saw him earlier in the night went crazy. She nodded, and headed up the narrow stairs.

The fourth step creaked loudly, bringing a smile to her face. They would always take care to avoid that step if they came in late at night so as not to wake up his housemate Larry. Larry had chosen to go to a bar with the other guys after the gig, saying he couldn’t wait for a beer. She suspected he really was going to give them some privacy in the cottage. She navigated her way across the landing in the dark, pushing the last door to the right open. She could hear Van downstairs opening and closing cupboards. She moved across the room to turn his bedside lamp on, but tripped over something on the floor, probably a shoe. She cursed as her toe throbbed and hobbled to the bedside table, switching the lamp on. The light revealed a messy floor, clothes and shoes strewn across the carpet. The bed was roughly made, with a couple of records sat on the covers. She smiled as she pictured Van packing last minute before tour, in a rush because he’d spent the night with her.

‘There should be some clothes in the second drawer if you wanna get changed’ He called up the stairs to her. She responded with a thank you and kicked off her strappy heels, placing them under his wooden bed frame.

She opened the top drawer in his dresser, and found a pair of boxers at the back of the drawer which she knew he never wore, and an oversized flannel shirt. As she slid the shirt over her head, inhaled the musky, woody scent of Van, with only a hint of cigarette smoke. Spotting a pair of thick white socks in the drawer, she slipped those on and set about closing the curtains and fixing the bed. Van was bound to crash from the post-gig adrenaline rush and jet lag soon, and she thought he might appreciate if she cleared his floor quickly.

The bedroom door opened, and he appeared with two steaming mugs. ‘Sorry I’ve not got any milk for tea so it’s instant hot chocolate instead’ He smiled and handed her a mug before setting his own down on a bedside table and kicking his boots off. He put on a record- The Kooks- then sat next to her on the bed while she moved underneath the covers.

‘Thanks’ She sighed contentedly as she sipped the hot drink and sank further under the covers. His stomach flipped at seeing her in his home, so comfortable and looking like she belonged in his clothes.

As they drank their hot chocolate, he began to tell her stories from tour. His favourite gigs, his least favourites. The sights he had seen, the laughs with the lads. She stared at him while he talked, loving how animated he became and fascinated by the stories he had to tell.

‘Larry won’t stop goin’ on at me though, cos there was this one night, they swear it was the best night of the year. So we went to this right wicked bar in New York and this girl Emily- someone Bondy met a few years ago- brought her friends over. But I missed a lot of the night. They said they think they broke some world record or summat’ He chuckled, but his face told her there was more to the story.

‘Well, it sounds like you had a really good time while you were away.’ She was equal parts happy for him and jealous of his time that all those other people and places got. She set her mug down onto the floor and rolled over, resting her elbows on his chest and looking up at him through her hair that fell forward on her face. He looked beautiful from any angle, but from here she could see his long, dark eyelashes perfectly. She could see the slight smudge of mascara under his bottom lashes.

Looking down at her, Van thought this might be his favourite view of her. Aside from her being naked underneath him. ‘Yeah, it was great, mind.’ He hesitated, considering his next words carefully. He was usually confident, reckless even, with his words. This though, was new territory. ‘I missed ya, though.’

She looked down at his necklace, began twirling it between her finger, unable to look him in the eye. A hint of a smile that she was trying to fight broke out on her face. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I… missed you, too.’ She had, of course. She was just still so scared to show how she felt about him, not wanting to mess things up and lose him.

‘Yeah?’ Humour coloured his voice, his lips matching hers in a subtle smile.

‘Yeah.’

She huffed a quiet laugh and dipped her head down to try and conceal her blush.

‘How much?’ She was sure he was teasing her now, trying to draw things out of her that she was, rather pathetically, being too shy to reveal. ‘A little, or a lot?’

‘Ahh’ She groaned. ‘A little, tiny bit’. She held her hand up, indicating with her fingers the little bit she was talking about.

‘Oh really?’ He was teasing again, but decided to keep pushing. ‘But see, I missed you more than that. Quite a bit more actually. Thought about you a lot.’

Her stomach fluttered. Was she picking up the right vibe? Or was she overthinking? Fuck it. ‘I missed you. Loads. And I’ve been thinking about you, too.’

This conversation was painfully slow and awkward. But his heartbeat was picking up pace, feeling as though she might feel the same as he did. Grow up, he thought to himself.

He placed his hand under her chin and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear so he could see her face more clearly. Her hazel eyes looked more brown than green in this light, which he knew she would hate but he thought they were perfect. Her top lip had a scar that was only visible in dim lights like this. He wondered how he could have ever had any doubt whether he wanted to commit to a relationship with this woman. The way he saw it now, he didn’t have a choice.

‘Babe, I think this is something more than just fun, for me. Do- I mean, what d’ya think?’ He was twirling a strand of her hair round his fingers, watching her eyes intently.

Her grin made his heart beat faster, but in a good way. She leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. It was cheesy as fuck, but they grinned as they kissed. She ran her hands through his hair, she’d missed that feeling. And fuck, he gripped her waist, hidden beneath his clothes, which hung from her body in the sexiest way possible. She felt him pull her all the way on top of him, deepening their kiss. This time, it was slower than right after the gig. It was lazier- no, not lazy. It was them taking their time, drawing the moment out. Exploring again.

He lifted his shirt higher up her back, running his hands up her spine. Further, around her ribs and up to cup her bare breasts. He began rubbing around her nipples softly, loving the soft moans it elicited. She pushed her chest further into his hands. Breaking their kiss, he lifted her arms in the air. Slowly, teasingly, he ran his hands down her arms, trailing down her ribs until he reached the hem of the shirt. He pulled it over her head and threw it somewhere across the room. Van wasted no time leaning in to suck a nipple, toying the other one with one hand and peeking up at her face, angelic and beautiful.

She placed her knees on either side of him, naturally, instinctively moving her hips to grind against his crotch. She began to unbutton his black shirt, slowly revealing his chest. She pulled back and lifted off of his lap so he could sit up and take the shirt off. She worked on unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. There was no slow and sexy way to take off his skinny jeans, he jumped up and removed one leg first, hopping while pulling them off the other leg. She kicked off her (his) socks and then took off the boxers she wore.

He playfully shoved her back on the bed, making her squeal and laugh. The got tangled in each other, kissing and laughing, feeling each other’s bodies properly for the first time in more than 6 months. They’d both been fantasising about being able to do this for so long. And they were both so ready.

He hooked his arm under her leg and positioned himself at her entrance, marvelling at her naked body, even better than he remembered, even better than the late-night fantasies. As he pushed inside, he realised he’d missed that little gasp she did every time, the way her nose and brow scrunched up. She wrapped her legs around him as he pushed into her, slowly. This time wasn’t like all the other times before, it wasn’t even like the time earlier. It was so much more. This time, all the emotions that had been building up from the last 6 months, even the last year or more. Since the moment they met, this connection and intensity had been building.

She had known he didn’t want to commit to a relationship, and she hadn’t pushed for it because she had been having fun, liking where it was going. He knew he wanted to spend as much time as possible with her but had been so stupid, not wanting to commit to her. It was just he had seen relationships fail because he wasn’t always around, and there were always women and drugs and late nights. None of that mattered. He’d been falling for her before he left for tour. He’d thought it would kill him to leave her that night. Realising that he wasn’t interested in women and late nights the way he was before, he’d rather call her, wait for her call. And this time round it was more than he would have imagined.

He thrusted hard, but slow. Keeping the pace, wanting it to last. The sex was always good, but she could have sworn there was something this time that made it as good as it could get. His stare made her body buzz again, like an out of body feeling.

She gently pushed his chest back, until he was sitting up. She climbed onto his lap and sat down on him, wrapping her hands around his neck. Keeping their stare unbroken, she began to ride him just how she knew drove him crazy, slowly, steady rhythm.

‘Fuck… just like that’ He groaned, gripping her bum as she bounced. His groans spurred her on, wanting to make him feel good. ‘Ohh, that’s it, babe.’

She kept going, feeling him so deep and hitting that angle just right. As he chased his orgasm, he started thrusting up into her. Soon, they were both gripping each other tightly, matching each other’s pace.

‘Ahh, Van’ She moaned into his hair, as their peaks came closer and closer. The sound of skin slapping, the bed frame squeaking and both of them moaning echoed through the room, through the whole cottage.

She exploded first, tightening around him and pushing herself further onto him. He cried out at the sensation of her wrapping around him. Then he cried out as he came undone, tugging on her hair.

They sat like that, her on top of his lap with her legs wrapped round his torso for a moment. He broke the silence first. ‘I love you’.

Her heart skipped a beat. She should probably see a doctor at this point, with how irregular her heartbeat was around him. ‘Pillow talk, Van.’ She teased, not wanting to get her hopes up. She already couldn’t believe her luck at him wanting to be with her- only her- she was afraid he was getting caught up in the moment, the passion and saying things he wouldn’t mean tomorrow.

He gently lifted her up from his lap and laid her back on the bed. Feeling his cum run down her legs again, she asked ‘What did you do with my underwear?’ with a laugh.

He laughed ‘Fucked them in the kitchen bin. Hold on here a second.’ He left the room for a few moments, still naked. He returned with a damp towel and a smile, coming to gently wipe between her legs, then throwing the towel in the laundry basket.

He threw himself back on the bed next to her, holding an arm out until she lifted her head and rested it on his shoulder, nuzzling in.

‘I meant it, ya know.’

‘Will you mean it in the morning?’ She hated how insecure she sounded. She never wanted to be that girl; she wasn’t that girl. She just needed to know it was real.

‘I’ll love you tomorrow, and the day after that, and for as long as you’ll have me. I wouldn’t mess with you about that. I’ve fucking missed you this whole time. I love you.’

She couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. ‘I love you, too.’

‘So, you wanna give this a go then?’ He was stroking her shoulder lazily. And it felt like this was where they were meant to be. ‘Cos I’m all in.’

[vangoddamn]

Bite me

34, 35, 36 - smut september -

The music was loud in your small shared apartment and you could feel the bass coming from the speakers all around you. It was either the music or your intoxicated system but it was as if the vibrations were travelling through your body, keeping your eyes open and making you very alert. All your senses were working overdrive and everything was effervescent and glowing.

It was the type drunk that made you want to do things. Things you maybe wouldn’t usually think of doing or even fathom, but at that moment all you could think about was having your hands on Van. You needed him now and you needed him close.

Now with a mission, you scoped the scene of your living room, panning across each body like they were nothing until you could see your man. He was laughing with some of your friends you had invited, friends you'd probably want to engage in conversation with. But after a long week and your growing need for Van, you ignored the normal social procedures. Walking up to him only offering a smile and reserved nod at the people around you and tightening your grip on Vans arm.

You stood shyly beside him, slightly behind him and resting your head on his back. Your senses immediately picked up on the closeness, his scent filling you making your knees weak. Your slight stumble brought Van to attention and a cute frown to his features.

“You alright babe?” He whispered to you, leaning towards you although he didn’t need to because you were completely drawn into him.

“Hmm.” You hummed trying to push the sordid thoughts out of your head. It was agonising but you didn't want to ruin his fun and drag him away.

“You sure, you seem...odd?” He chose his words carefully but still seemed unsatisfied with the outcome of his dedication. All you did was nod sweetly, returning the smile to him and closing your eyes, your head still resting on his frame.

The conversation returned back to normal, although your desires took over once more. Forcing your hand to slip under his shirt, teasing around the waistband of his jeans, drawing a shiver from him. It satisfied you, the effect you had on him, daring you to roam further, skimming the top of his boxers before dancing up his spine.

With your movements clearly affecting him it didn't surprise you in the slightest when he ended the conversation with his mates, taking your hand and leading you both to your bedroom. His pace was slow and chilled, but his grip around your hand was tight and it sent excited nerves through your body. When you both made it to the solitude of your room he pinned you against the door, looking deep into your eyes.

“You're driving me crazy love,” He sighed, letting out clear frustration that had been pent up.

“Could say the same.” You whispered back, his face was close to yours, nearly touching and the heat was causing your body to crave his touch.

He smiled at your reply, going to your neck, placing dainty kisses up along the skin to your jaw. As he got further up they became rougher and he started sucking until marks were definitely being left. His intent made you more frustrated for his touch, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to your body.

“Babe-” He tried for words but gave up when your hips bucked into his involuntarily in pure want for him. With your actions he lifted you up and carried you over to the bed laying you down and looking down at you in awe. He moved to balance on his knees over you, his palms still flat on your torso. You could feel him hardening from beneath you already, turning you on even more.

“Tell me what you want.” He murmured into your ear, the warm air sending you into a frenzy, desperate to feel him everywhere, making your dark side come out. Ready to feel your boyfriend dominate you.

“Bite me.” Your words came out simply as if it was nothing but he saw that behind your eyes was lust and need for it rough.

Without a second glance, he grinned as if he was chuckling to himself “If you insist.” He laughed, digging his teeth into your shoulder, his mouth trailing down, teeth digging into the skin he brushed past until he got to your knees.

He lingered over the fabric of your panties before dragging them down and chucking them behind him. His breath against your core alerted you, making your eyes close and let out a hard sigh. He was just testing the water, however, it wasn’t what you needed. You needed him now, and to take charge.

“Vaan.” You let out, but it was enough for him to understand, making him move up. You were face to face now, except now he had eased a finger into, thumb massaging your clit until your whole body was shaking with pleasure.

“Being a good girl for me baby.” Van sneered unbuttoning his jeans and undressing completely. You could feel the sweat on your forehead and you pushed your hair back, preparing for him. Soon enough he was straddling you pulling your legs around his waist, looking deep in your eyes that had definitely darkened with lust.

That minute of eye contact was enough to tell him you were ready, all the consent he needed to hear was there in that look. He leaned down, positioning himself so that he was just brushing over your heat. His head was buried in your neck, kissing and nibbling, those kisses getting more ragged each time he teased in.

His pace increased when you arms wrapped around him, digging into his back with anticipation. From then he took his control further, pushing your hips down into the bed beneath you both and holding you tight with every thrust in. You could feel him everywhere and it felt like he was touching your soul deep inside in some weird way.

“God, uhh-” You were starting to become undone, quicker than you expected as he carried on pushing into you at a pace that had just been discovered by the two of you. Your legs were still wrapped tightly around him and you were certain you’d leave red scratches along his back.

You knew he was close and with every missed thrust he let out a deep, guttural moan, showing his obvious pleasure. One last push into you brought you to a climax practically screaming out his name when he bit deep into your shoulder, trying to hold back the moans with pleasure.

You both stayed for a second in the same position, savouring the moment together, not wanting to be left without him. “Fuck love that was, wow-“ He sighed, head still on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath back from your activities.

“That was fucking insane,” You exclaimed, relating to his shock. “babe I’m so sorry, your back I-“ You fussed looking at the damage you’d done, red lines marking down his back as if he’d just been attacked.

“Love, look at what I did to you, people will think I’m abusing you!” His face was a mix of amusement and worry. You smiled at his face, reaching out to cup it in your hands, full of love for your boy.

“Aren’t we a pair.”You smiled, happy to have him.

A/n: heyoo, so this is the first of what I hope many, depending on how much my motivation dwindles aha. All the requests that aren’t smut September will be posted on weekends so don’t worry I haven’t forgotten about you xx em

[sounds-like-humpty-dumpty]

The Affair (Part 3)

Summary: who would have guessed, Van and Y/N meet again. Of course, it contains smut.

Smut, Van x Reader 3 of 3

The third time she met Van was at the pub. Sebastian had invited Esther and Y/N, and told them that Johnny Bond and "a couple of his band members" would be there too. Of course, she couldn't be a hundred per cent sure he meant Van but she was assuming it was him, so she accepted the invitation, saying she would come ‘round after work.

When Bondy asked Van if he wanted to hang out with him, Sebastian and "a couple of others" Van's mind instantly went to Y/N. If Sebastian was invited he was sure Y/N would somehow be invited too. So, of course, Van agreed to join them. He was, however, disappointed when he arrived to find only Bondy, Sebastian and Esther sitting around a table, he knew Larry would join them later but it irritated him that Y/N was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't very well ask them where she was or if she was still coming since it would have been a little too obvious in his opinion. For the first time, he wished he had her number so he could ask her directly. He grabbed a beer at the bar and scanned the pub for her face one last time before trudging to his group of friends.

He had been looking forward to seeing Y/N and, most likely, taking her back home. Now that he knew she wasn't there, he felt irrationally disappointed and annoyed. He tried not to show it though as he sat down at the table and greeted Sebastian, Esther and Bondy. Larry joined them half an hour later when Van was already well into his second beer, and Van gave up any hope Y/N would show up that evening.

Y/N could have called Esther to tell her she was arriving later than she planned but the tube was busy and loud and the signal kept giving out.  When she finally made her way through the pub's doors and instantly saw Esther at the bar, she sighed in relief. She wasn't too late. Esther, who saw her too, laughed and opened her arms for a hug "Gosh, you look like shite." Y/N laughed too while she embraced her friend "yeah, today was too long."

Van was already well drunk when Y/N joined them at the table. He didn't recognise her for a second, thinking his drunken mind was playing tricks on him. But when she sat down next to him, he suddenly became hyperaware of her presence. "Hi" she smiled as she sat down next to him on the bench. "Hey" he nodded back.

Y/N could smell the alcohol on him, he was holding a whiskey glass in his hands. The atmosphere between them was awkward. Van who had given up any hope of sex this evening, decided to drown his expectations in alcohol. Now that she was actually sitting beside him, real and smelling like mint, he was just annoyed with himself for throwing in the towel so soon. He was sure that he was too drunk now to be of any appeal for her to go home with him.

Y/N chatted aimlessly with her friends while being aware of how quiet Van was beside her. She was unsure of the reason, even thought it was her fault for a few minutes. But when her knee accidentally bumped into his leg under the table while she was telling a story about one of the costumers in the store last week, she could feel his knee bump back into hers, signalling that he wasn't opposed to her after all. A couple of minutes later she bumped her leg into his again, whilst listening to Sebastian tell a story about a similar irritating situation with a guy at his workplace. But instead of drawing it away again, she kept pressing her leg into Van's trying to spread her legs as wide as she could on the bench they were both sharing. Trying to claim as much space for herself as she could and make Van aware of his massive man-spread. When Van glanced at her, she just smiled at him innocently. He pushed his leg back against her, claiming space back, spreading his legs wider than before. A game began under their table, both of them trying to push and bump the other's leg away while remaining seemingly calm from the torso upwards so none of their friends would notice. But Y/N decided to play dirty, because Van had much stronger legs and made her lose the space she had effortfully claimed, far too easily. So when he had his legs spread way too far into her own leg space, she reached a hand down under the table and pinched his inner thigh, causing Van to instinctively shut is legs instantly, trapping her hand between his legs. She quickly pulled her hand out but couldn't keep her mouth from erupting into a little surprised laugh, directing attention to herself and consequently Van. "You guys need to get a room" Larry muttered and Y/N couldn't help but snort with amusement. Van too was amused, glad Y/N was still up for her little games. It was something he appreciated her for.

The evening came to a close and their friends were ready to leave. Van and Y/N, both intoxicated, decided not to care what their friends thought. It was no secret they hooked up with each before. Although they never admitted it officially. When Van's Uber arrived, Y/N got into the car with him, after saying a quick goodbye to the rest of the group and exchanging knowing grins with Esther.

The car ride was only ten minutes to Van's place and when he opened the door to the familiar flat, Y/N stepped right in, kicked off her shoes and pushed her jacket off her shoulders and went into his bedroom. Van followed her and when they both stood in front of the bed, mustering each other, Y/N took the first step, taking the hem of Van's shirt and pushing it upwards, not even bothering with unbuttoning it. Van obliged and his shirt was off within seconds. The same happened to her jumper. That's when their lips finally met for the first time that night. He tasted like alcohol and the cigarettes he had been smoking while waiting for their ride, and just a tiny bit like him. Her fingers found his belt and he helped her loosen it. She pushed him down on the bed and with a couple of movements, his jeans was off. She quickly removed hers too before climbing on top of him. He sat up and scooted towards the headboard to lean his back against it. She followed him and straddled his hips. He reached behind her to successfully unclasp her bra, while she leant back into him, her lips attacking the skin of his neck. She reached a hand down to feel him hardening already. She slipped it into his boxer and felt Van's hands squeeze her bum and bucking his hips towards hers. She motioned to pull his boxers off and he raised his butt and pulled them off quickly. Her panties quickly following. Once she was positioned on top of him again, one hand steadying herself on his shoulder, she took his penis in her other hand and slowly guided herself onto it. Both of them moaning when he glided into her deeper and deeper.

"Fuck, Van." She moaned and began pulling herself up again before pushing herself down, dictating the speed. One of Van's hand was on her back, the other reached between them and quickly found her clit. She gasped as he started rubbing it and her hips started to buck into his with more erratic movement. He kissed her neck, nipped the skin of her shoulders with his teeth and met the movement of her hips with his. Their breathing began to speed up and synchronise.

Y/N pulled Van's hair to make him stop kissing her neck and instead pressed her lips onto his. "Van," she moaned, "fuck Van I'm gonna cum." He stopped rubbing her clit, eliciting a disapproving sound from Y/N. She tried to buck her hips into his even harder to signal she was close and didn't want him to stop. But Van's hand wouldn't go back. "Vaaaannn," she whined, "please". "Just a little longer, love" he whispered into her ear.

He wasn't quite ready to cum yet. Didn't want their intimacy to end just now. He was sure if she came now, he would have no problem coming too, but he wanted to draw this out, wanted to last longer. And quite frankly he liked how needy she was for him.

She slowly pulled herself up and down on him again. Leisurely moving her hips with his. He groaned and began kissing down her jaw to her neck again. "Vaannn" she breathed into his ear. He grunted at how sexy and lustful she sounded. Her hips began picking up speed again, her breasts were bouncing with the movement. Van could feel himself build up.

"Fuuuck" he breathed "Y/N, slower". But instead of slowing down, she stopped completely. Van, who had his eyes screwed close, opened them in confusion just to be met with a sly smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Not so funny now, is it?" She said and slung her arms around his neck to press herself against his chest. Her nipples were hard and sensitive to the feel of his chest hair. She nipped the skin underneath his ear and slowly started moving again.

Van gripped her hips and groaned as she moved her hips in circles while he was inside her. So deep, so full. She wanted to cum so bad. She started bucking her hips again, slow at first then speeding up.

Van's forehead found hers, they didn't kiss, just breathed onto each other's faces with open mouths. "Please Van," she said and this time Van obliged and brought one hand between them and started circling her clit again. It didn't take long until she was on the edge again "Fuck, Van, I'm gonna cum, you better keep moving". His small chuckle was quickly replaced by a moan as he felt her cum around his cock, her muscles contracting and squeezing around him. He came then and there too.

Y/N woke up to Van lightly snoring, there was light flooding in from the window, indicating it was morning already. She didn't want to get up yet though, didn't want to leave the warm comfort of his bed. She snuggled herself into his blanket and closed her eyes again. The next time she woke up, was because she felt a finger brushing hair away from her face. She was lying on her side and opened one eye to see Van looking at her but quickly closed it again, pretending she was still sleeping. She couldn't help a little smile tugging at her lips however, giving away that she was indeed conscious. Van, of course, saw the action and knew she was just pretending. He decided to take part in her game. He scooted closer to her body and placed a hand on her waist. His touch was light and Y/N had difficulty not to shiver under the movements of his hand. He carefully brushed his fingers up and down her side, tickling her ever so slightly. He could feel her tensing up, but she still wouldn't open her eyes. His hand slowly traced further south until he stopped between her legs. He slowly and carefully stroked over her folds, keeping a close eye on her face. He found her clit and began circling it, eliciting a first reaction from her. She inhaled sharply, her mouth opening just slightly, yet her eyes remained closed. Since her legs were closed, Van had difficulty inserting his fingers so he just kept focusing on her clit, spreading the wetness that began pooling between her legs up onto it. His finger getting faster and faster and then slowing again. She was starting to breath heavier and Van smiled at her determination to keep her eyes shut and pretend she was still sleeping. He kept speeding up and slowing down, at times stopping fully and caressing her bum instead before going back to her clit. She only lasted a couple of minutes until his teasing game became too torturous for her. She was coming so close just for him to slow down again. She opened her eyes and was instantly met with the blue of his. He had this little crooked smile plastered across his face and Y/N wanted to slap it off, but instead, she just scooted closer into his body and kissed it away. She was moaning into Van's mouth when his fingers picked up speed again and lifted her leg to drape it over his hips so he had better access. This time he kept going until she came, her hand clutched his shoulder, her head on the pillow, mouth open, eyes wide open and locked onto Van's.

When the last wave of her orgasm subsided she let her hand travel south towards Van's member who had gotten rock hard during her orgasm. She grasped him in her hand and started pumping him up and down, flicking her thumb over his tip every now and then. Their eyes never left one another. Now it was Van's turn to start breathing heavy. Her leg was still draped around his hip and she scooted closer so she could tease his tip with her warm and wet folds. Van swallowed when he felt her wetness on him. She guided him up and down her folds a couple of times before positioning him onto her entrance. All it needed was a little push of his hips and he would be inside her. Y/N was waiting for him to push in, still stroking him up and down, but Van wasn't moving. "Van," she furrowed her brows into a frown. But Van just kept on looking at her, a challenge in his eyes. And she knew then, that whoever bucked their hips first would lose. But what he didn't calculate into his little game was that she still reigned over his cock. Stroking it up and down, turning his little game from earlier on him, she sped up and then slowed down. But Van wasn't powerless either. His hand found her clit and he knew if he just kept on bring her close and withdrawing again, he would get her to lose within minutes.

What he didn't expect, however, was her distracting him with little dirty whispers. "Van," she gasped into his ear as his fingers picked up speed, "please fuck me, Van." He groaned and almost gave in, but only almost. "Please Van," she whispered again "I want you inside me." Van tried to concentrate on his fingers on her clit, rubbing her faster, but when he felt her hand pumping him up and down and teasing his tip by circling him around her entrance, he lost it and pushed his hip towards her, just closely missing her entrance.

Y/N wasn't in the mood to celebrate her win, she just wanted him inside her, she wasn't lying about that. She quickly guided his penis to her entrance again and Van pushed himself in with one swift move, her wetness making it easy for him to glide in. He pushed her onto her back, hovering above her. She wrapped her other leg around his hip, and Van was able to push even deeper, making both of them groan. "Fuck me, Van." Y/N moaned again and Van was more than happy to oblige. It didn't take long for both of them to come undone; their previous teasing making them both overeager.

After Van dropped onto his back again, out of breath and satisfied, and Y/N had enough time to catch her breath too, she started to collect her clothes from the ground.

In the meantime, Van reached over to grasp her phone that was lying on the bedside table on her side. When he tried to unlock it, it asked for a password. He stretched his arm towards her as if to give her the phone, and she took it from him with a questioning look. "Unlock it" he just said and she took it from him, unlocked it and put it back into his still outstretched hand. She didn't have any secrets from him and she doubted he would do anything with her phone that could harm her.

She went into the bathroom with her clothes and tried to sort herself out as best as she could. When she entered the bedroom, her locked phone was lying on the bedside table again; Van seemingly uninterested in it now. He just smiled at her when she took it and put it into her jacket's pocket. She would have a look later as to find out what he did with it. "Well then," she said. "Well then," Van echoed. "Perhaps I'll see you around." It was a statement she dared to say now, knowing that Van wasn't opposed to fucking her more than just once. "Yeah" Van nodded. She nodded too and made her way to the front door of the flat, she opened it, stepped out and just as she pulled it close she heard him shout: "Just call me!"

She wasn't sure if she heard right but as she made her way down the stairs, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened her contacts. She almost stumbled down the last steps as she saw "Van" was added into it. She opened the contact and saw that he really saved his number into her phone. She couldn't contain her smile all the way back to her own flat.

[greasyvan]

Vanilla [A Van McCann Oneshot]

Rating: M. Actually it might be worse than M. I’m pretty sure this has earned me a one way ticket to hell

Word Count: 5k

Request: Not technically but y’all have been asking for this and you deserve it 

Author’s Note: We’re all goin’ to hell for this

When Van came home from tour, it was habitual for the both of you to stay locked in your bedroom for a few days. You wouldn’t leave the comfort of the sheets, save to do the absolute necessities, like retrieve food or make cups of tea, or shower together. You had to get reacquainted with each other’s bodies, learn about all the new marks that had occurred while you were apart. Van would hold your thighs in his wide, calloused palms and brush his nose against the fading bruise on the inside of your knee. You’d press your fingers into the ridges of his spine and reveal in his skin. New bumps, scratches, marks that had been inflicted while he was away. You relearned the texture of skin so when he left again you could remember the feeling of his body.

It was on the fourth naked day when you decided it was time to rejoin the world. You woke Van with your lips around his shaft and your fingers laced in his. An hour had passed, you’d had your morning romp, and now a naked Van was laying between your legs with his head resting on your thigh. He stroked your skin absentmindedly, staring out the window into the outside world. Memorizing.

The light on his eyelashes were casting shadows on his cheek bones in a way that made your stomach hurt. He was too beautiful, you couldn’t help but want to capture the moment. You reached for your phone on the bedside table and opened up the camera.

“Hey,” You called softly. When his eyes flicked up to you you snapped the picture. “You’re so cute.” He laughed slightly and rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin on your lower belly, his arms around your thighs.

“Ain’t that my line?” You took another picture. Even better. He had a slight smirk, his eyes were dreamy. You hummed as he placed kisses on your stomach and across your hips all while you took pictures. Something in the air changed and the feeling went from sleepy and cozy to electric and needy. You whined as he shifted himself down the bed, keeping his arms around your thighs and licked a wet stripe up your center. You opened your legs wider as his tongue delved into you, Van’s mouth making obscene noises against you. An idea popped into your head and you held the phone up, turning on the video function and recording him.

“Say hi,” You whispered, his eyes opening and looking directly into the camera. He grunted and you could feel him smile against you. Van was never someone who was camera shy, in fact knowing that there was a camera on him made him even more eager to please than he already was. He released one of your thighs and pushed two fingers inside of you, tugging them upwards while his tongue circled your clit. You moaned loudly, never one to necessarily be quiet during sex, and wound your fingers into his hair. He relished in the little noises you were making as you squirmed beneath him, his long fingers pistoning inside you so hard and so fast it almost hurt, but in the best way possible.

“Fuck,” You yelped as he tugged upwards against your walls, a new sensation spreading through your stomach. You pulled at his hair and he hissed against your wetness, pulling away from you to catch a breath but keeping his fingers deep inside you. You let out a long, low groan as white spots spread across your vision and you felt your body go rigid. Your legs felt numb as heat exploded through your being and you dropped your phone on your chest. You shook for a couple of seconds and when you came back down to earth you were acutely aware of an unpleasant wetness against your thighs. When you opened your eyes Van’s chest was wet and he was looking at you, face half bewildered half smug.

“Did you just,” He trailed off, not really sure how to finish that sentence. Your eyes were wide like dinner plates and you nodded. “Have you ever done it before?” Quickly you shook your head and Van sat back on his heels, genuinely smiling. He was so fucking cocky. “That was... Yeah that was hot.” You didn’t know if he was referring to the video you both had just made or the fact that he was able to get you to do something you never thought you were capable of doing but you hummed in agreement. Van flopped down next to you after cleaning himself off as you rewatched the video and you could hear Van mutter something against your skin.

“Send that to me,” He requested, and you craned your neck to look at him. “What? Noises you make are somethin’ else. I’ll need it for when I’m gone again.” He took the phone from you, watching the video again and smirking when he made you come.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus christ do you want a fucking metal.” The video was forgotten temporarily as he dropped your phone and rolled on top of you, pinning your arms to the bed.

“Actually I think I would,” He grinned and placed a kiss on your throat. “‘Van McCann, first lover to make you squi-’” You groaned and shoved him off, sitting up in bed, covers falling to your waist.

“You’re gross, that word is gross.” He reached out for you, pulling you back into his arms, not quite ready to rejoin the world yet.

~

A couple months later you were back on tour with Van and the lads. You and Van were supposed to be meeting Bondy and his new girlfriend, Nina, for dinner but after half an hour of waiting in the lobby they still hadn’t arrived. You suggested going up to their room and checking on them and Van agreed, grumbling about being hungry. Their door was slightly open and before you could tell Van to knock he was barging in, about to call out when he froze on sight. You peeked around his arm to see what was happening, your cheeks immediately heating up. Bondy had his back towards you, muscles taut and jeans around his knees. Nina was bent over the bed, arms pinned behind her back as she moaned in pleasure, back arching as Bondy slammed into her. Before they could notice your presence you wrapped your hand around Van’s bicep and tugged him out of the room, gently shutting the door behind you. You watched Van squirm for a moment, tugging his shirt down over his crotch and clearing his throat.

“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. His cheeks turned pink and he just shrugged. The elevator dinged, the doors opening up and you stepped inside. “Had no idea you were into voyeurism.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, the tips of his ears turning bubble gum pink.

“’m not,” He whined, looking at the buttons as they lit up.

You were having too much fun teasing him though. “All this time I had no idea you were a kinky little shit.”

“I’m not!” He insisted, practically tumbling out of the elevator into the lobby.

“Your crotch begs to differ there mate,” You cackled. “I’d always taken you for this vanilla guy, maybe we should take the time to explore your kinks babe.” You were laughing so hard you hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking and practically ran head first into him. He turned on his heel and smirked down at you.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, love.” Your hands moved to his arms and you squeezed them.

“I have every intention to.” You pecked him on the lips and grinned back. A couple minutes later, after the sexual tension had dissipated a bit, Nina and Bondy emerged from the elevator looking disheveled and a little worse for wear.

“Sorry guys,” Bondy apologized. “This one likes to take her time.” Nina rolled her eyes as you and Van exchanged a knowing look.

“We’ve all been there,” You assured, linking your arm with Nina’s and grinning at Van. “Van and I are just glad you both came.”

Later that night you’d stumbled back to your hotel room a little drunk and immediately began disrobing.

“So what else are you into?” You called from the bathroom as you washed your face. Van’s head peeked around the door frame, eyebrows furrowed.

“Whaddya mean?”

You patted your face dry with a towel and removed your dress, letting it fall to the ground.

“What are your other kinks?” Van sighed and rolled his eyes.

“This again.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and flopped down onto the fluffy bed. “I don’t have any! I’m a regular lad! Your body is more than enough for me.” You leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom in just your underwear and smirked.

“That’s sweet,” You commented. “But you’re full of shit.” He groaned and burrowed himself under the covers, pulling the duvet up over his head. He looked like a child, pouting, face peeking out from the sheets as he frowned at you.

“What about you eh? What do you like?” You waved your hand dismissively at him before hitting the lights and slithering under the sheets next to him.

“Please, I know what I like.” Van raised his eyebrows, urging you to go on. “I’m a verse, which means I like to be the boss and get bossed around, depending on how I’m feeling.” You saw Van take his lip between his crooked teeth.

“Anything else?”

You snorted. “Choking, spanking, bondage, teasing, praise, water sports.” His eyes bulged to the size of saucers at the mention of the last one. You giggled. “That last one was a joke.” Van rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“G’night Y/N.”

“I’ll figure it out,” You insisted, scooching closer to his and wrapping your arms around his middle. “Gotta keep my freaky man happy.” Another groan caused you to laugh and press a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Love you, you kinky bastard.”

~

The discovery of Van’s first perversion was completely accidental.

He wasn’t one to forget things, which is why it made it oh so much worse on the very few occasions that he did. He promised you. He said he’d be home by seven, seven thirty at the absolute latest, so you two could enjoy a delicious meal that you spent hours making and a night home together, which you’ve had few in the last month. You had confirmed with him in the morning before he left and he swore he wouldn’t miss your homemade pasta for the world. It was the first time you were breaking out the pasta maker since Bondy got it for you for Christmas.

You spent the day kneading dough and rolling it thinner and thinner through the machines until it was nearly paper thin and longer than both of your arms. When you had made enough pasta to feed your entire family as well as Van’s you cleaned up and ventured out into the garden to pick some fresh basil and oregano for the sauce. When that was made you cleaned the entire house top to bottom out of sheer boredom and went to the market to buy a fancy bottle of wine. It was shaping up to be a rather lovely night.

When six o’clock rolled around you texted Van for an ETA. When he didn’t respond after twenty minutes you called him and it went straight to voicemail. You frowned at your phone and decided to give him another twenty minutes. When that rolled around you shrugged and started making the garlic bread and boiling the water for the pasta. You set the table, lit the candles, made the plates, and waited.

By the time eight rolled around you were pissed and had already eaten two plates of pasta, half the loaf of bread and were three glasses of wine deep. Everything was delicious but that was beside the point. You glared at your screen and slammed your palms on the table, sick of watching the candles slowly disintegrate into nothing.

You could’ve easily fixed this situation. It’s not like you were worried about him or what he was doing. You knew Van would never cheat. He was just over at Bondy’s with the band and Larry despite having spent the last four months with them. You had Bondy’s number, Larry’s, hell you even had Bondy’s girlfriend’s number. If you wanted to contact him all you had to do was call one of them and ask to speak to Van. But you were in a new mood. You wanted to wait it out, see just how far he would push it.

You didn’t care that he was out, you didn’t care that he was late. The thing that irked you the most was the fact that he promised you he’d be there, and he wasn’t. If he wanted to stay out all night with his friends, you were more than welcome to the thought. Hell, you’d even join them. His fatal mistake were the words “I promise,” and insisting that he wanted to spend time with you. If he’d told you he’d be coming home at midnight you’d welcome the jingling sound of keys and his drunken stumble over the door frame. You would’ve welcomed him into your shared bed you’d been warming up, and you’d be more than happy to ride him to completion if he asked. But he kissed you when you told him to have fun and promised he wouldn’t be late.

Nine thirty rolled around and you had yourself a slice of cake before going up to the bedroom to exact your revenge. You left the table set, the candles burning, even cut him a slice of chocolate cake and set it next to his made up dinner plate. You took the bottle of wine with you though and sipped from it intermittently as you got undressed and redressed. The simple teal cotton dress and tights you’d been wearing getting swapped out for one of your more adventurous outfits.

Van had spotted it in the lingerie store before you had and held it up, giggling slightly.

You shrugged and said, “Looks like something the fembots from Austin Powers would wear.” His expression went blank and he was dragging you to the cash register so he could buy it for you before you could even think of protesting.

It was baby pink and made of light, gauzy fabric, every hem of the mid thigh length robe covered in a slightly lighter pink shade of faux fur. Van had admitted to you one night when he was drunk in the back seat of Larry’s car that the fembots turned him on. He loved strong women. Bondy and Larry teased him relentlessly about it. You paired it with an almost nonexistent red thong, sat on the loveseat facing the door, turned the lights off, and waited. There was a sheer yellow glow from the fairy lights twisted around your headboard, but other than that the room was mostly dark. You continued to let your rage fill you up, that and red wine.

It was almost eleven when you heard the lock on the front door jingle. You pictured him, unsuspecting as he turned around to lock the door as he called out for you. “Baby?” And then he’d see the made up plate, the dilapidated candles, the slice of cake and you heard him swear under his breath. There were a couple of minutes of silence before you heard clinking and pictured him pouring himself a drink. His boots were heavy as he climbed up the stairs, you could almost envision his pout.

The door cracked open the smallest bit. “Love?” He questioned, having not seen you yet. He fully swung the door open, apologies tumbling from his mouth when he stopped himself, taking the vision of you angry and mostly naked in the loveseat. He dropped his coat on the ground and slowly moved towards you as you watched him through your best seductive put pissed gaze. He fell to his knees in front of you and you uncrossed your legs, letting him get a peek of the fabric- or lack thereof -between your legs.

“Baby,” He practically whined, his palms coming to rest just above your knees. “I’m so sorry I forgot.” You sipped from the bottle, watching him with an almost bored expression. “I lost track of time, John and I were writing and...” He trailed off, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Let me make it up to you, eh?” His hands wrapped around the backs of your calves and he tugged you to the edge of your seat, licking his lips. Before he could descend between your thighs for a proper apology you grabbed a fistful of his hair at the crown of his head, stopping him. His wince made you let go, and you traced your fingers down the side of his skull, across his cheekbone, and along his jaw, tilting his face up so he could look in your eyes.

You leaned forward until your lips were at his ear and spoke, softly. “I don’t need you, Van Mccann.” You could hear him swallow at the brush of your lips. He wanted to look at your face to see if you were being serious or not, the words exceptionally harsh, but you kept your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, locked in place. “I have my own hands.” You let up the pressure just enough so he could see what you were getting up to.

Your hand was slowly rubbing circles on your clit over your underwear, the fabric quickly dampening. He swallowed again, his eyes flitting up to your face though he desperately wanted to watch your ministrations against what he wished he was kissing, what he wished he was buried inside of. Van’s mouth flooded with saliva as you released him and pulled your panties to the side, letting him get a proper view of your increasingly slippery play. You moaned, more for his pain than your pleasure, and slipped a finger inside. It felt nice, but you made sure to be extra vocal just for him.

“Fuck...” He gulped and rolled a fist over the hardness tucked in his jeans. He ran a hand up your freshly moisturized leg but you quickly swatted it away.

“No touching,” You softly commanded. He bit his lower lip so hard he could practically taste the blood and nodded. “You know...” You trailed off, slipping another finger inside with a hitch of your breath. “I was thinking, because you wanted to spend time with me, we could try something new.” Without warning you stood, knocking Van onto his butt before strutting over to your side of the bed and pulling the drawer open.

A few days after your discussion with Van in the hotel room, you were let loose in a big city all by yourself. The boys were doing an interview and acoustic gig, and you decided to do some exploring. In under an hour you found yourself outside of an adult store, smirking at your reflection in the black tinted windows.

After a quick discussion with the very kind woman behind the counter you left the store with a pair of red handcuffs and small pink vibrator. You returned back to your hotel and tucked the items in the bottom of your suitcase and you had all but forgotten about them until that moment.

You hung the handcuffs off your index finger and Van visibly gulped.

“I was gonna let you use these on me but considering your behaviour tonight...” You trailed off. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed.” Your voice was low and firm and Van obeyed almost immediately, hesitating for a split second.

You couldn’t help the butterflies that infiltrated your tummy at the sight of a naked Van resting on top of your clean white sheets. He was breathing heavy and flushed all the way down his chest, his erection standing stiffly upright, prominent and needy. He looked soft, vulnerable, ready. It made your mouth water. A part of you wanted to just get on top of him and ride him until you both came in an explosive crescendo, but a bigger, more sadistic part was going to enjoy what you had planned.

Van’s blue eyes looked practically black as he watched you climb onto the bed and straddle his lower stomach. You shot him a soft, reassuring smile before taking one of his hands and brushing your lips along the inside of his wrist, snapping the cold, red metal around it. His breathing hitched as you lifted both arms over his head and clicked the other cuff around his wrist, effectively restraining him to the metal headboard.

You brushed some hair from his wide blue eyes and ran your fingers over his parted lips. Your forehead pressed against his as you spoke. “If it’s too much, your safeword is grapefruit, okay?” He quickly nodded and you pressed a kiss to his plushy red lips. “Good boy.” He choked on the air in his lungs as you began your descent down his body. It was slow, maddeningly slow, as you stopped at every weak spot you knew Van Mccann possesed. The first spot was the conjunction where his jaw and throat met. You traced your tongue over the spot, reveling in the noises he was making already. You took your time, nipping and suckling and kissing at his soft flesh until he was keening and panting deep in his chest.

“Y/N,” He groaned in a voice you’d never heard from him before. You pulled away from your spot with a satisfied smirk and looked at Van’s face, nearly gasping in surprise. His pupils were blown wide and his forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His lower lip was chewed raw. He looked absolutely ruined. You placed your palm against his cheek.  

“Oh sweetie, if you’re this wrecked already it’s gonna be a long night for you.” He blanched and swallowed thickly as you moved to your next destination, the slight dip in his chest, right beneath his sternum. You repeated your sloppy, teasing process here, as well as at both of his hip bones. By the time you were sitting between his legs Van was a complete mess. For the most part he let you work in silence, save for the occasional groan when you would sink your teeth into his flesh. You had an idea to get him to be more vocal.

At first you started by just tracing your finger up his inner thigh, under his belly button, and back down his other thigh, skipping over the angry red length that was leaking precum like a broken faucet. As you traced, you drew closer to his shaft, eventually gripping it at the base and giving it a solid tug upward. A struggled cry ripped through Van’s lung and you smiled, satisfied.

“There we go Baby,” You gave him another pull. You could feel the warmth and weight of his erection against your palm. “Let me hear you.” Your stroking became more regular, but still just as slow as Van thrashed against his restraints, the metal cuffs cutting into his wrists. “Do you want my mouth Love?”

“P-Please!” His hips bucked into the air, trying to find something more dense than your hand. He was doing so well and you wanted to reward him, but you thought about why you were in this position in the first place, and changed your mind. You leaned up to whisper in his ear, not stopping your manipulations as you spoke.

“Then you should’ve been home on time.” In a second you released him and completely lifted yourself from the bed, standing at the foot. Van looked like he was about to explode and a long deep moan erupted from his throat.

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry.” You placed your hands on your hips.

“I know sweetie. But you look so good like this.” With a swift tug you undid the ribbon holding your robe closed and let it fall off your shoulders, the pink fabric pooling at your feet. You quickly dropped your panties and clambored back onto the bed, sitting yourself right above his member and grabbing the vibrator. Clicking it onto the lowest setting you moved the buzzing head to your clit, a shudder rolling up your spine. Van watched you work with hooded lids as your hips started to jerk around in an attempt to quickly reach your climax. Your other hand, which was previously placed firmly on Van’s chest to balance yourself, moved behind you to grasp his heady length. Van cried out as you slowly jerked him while you ground yourself against his lower abdomen.

You could feel your end approaching quickly and you could tell by the way Van’s back was arching off the sheets that his was too.

“Van,” You breathed, searching for his eyes. When they finally met yours he offered you an exhausted smile. Despite this being a “punishment,” he seemed to be enjoying himself. “You’ve done so well baby.” You removed the vibrator to click it off and shuffled down his body so you were positioned right above his member. “And even though I’m still mad at you, I’m gonna fuck you.” He licked his lip and nodded once.

“Thank you.” With that you sank all the way down onto his cock, both of you hissing as your fingernails dug into the skin of his chest. You could feel his heartbeat through his length, pulsing and warm inside you as you waited for your strength to come back to you. You were both so close to the edge that you were sure it would take only a few minutes to reach the end so you sat, just enjoying him for a moment.

You gave an experimental roll of the hips, preening at the mewl that van emitted, and just like that the flood gates were open. Bracing both of your hands on his chest you ground and rolled and swiveled your hips like there was no tomorrow. Both your bodies were slick with sweat and the sound of your skin meeting and combined moans echoed around the quiet room. You were teetering right there at the abyss, so close your arms gave out and you let yourself drape over Van’s chest, your face buried into the crook of his neck. He took over then, bending himself at the knees to find steady grounding, and thrusted himself up into you until you exploded around him, messy and white hot.

It took a couple seconds for your head to stop throbbing and for you to come back down to earth and when you did you took note of two things: The first being that Van had stopped moving and the second being that your hand was wrapped firmly around his throat. Leaning up a little to see his face you could only describe it as dumbstruck.

“Sorry,” You murmured, pulling your hand away but he quickly began rambling.

“No! No, uhm,” He gulped. “I-I liked it.” You raised an eyebrow at him, a little surprised that he was so open to all the new things you were throwing at him, and then you remembered who you were dealing with. “Can you, uh, can you do it a bit harder?” And if your body hadn’t been completely spent you’d probably come again just from those words. You leaned down and pressed a bruising kiss to his mouth.

“Of course you kinky little freak.”

With both hands wrapped around his throat pressing firmly down you slowly began working your hips over him, his pale face quickly going red from lack of air, making his freckles stand out against the flush. It only took a few solid swivels before his eyes were rolling back into his head, his back was lifting off the bed, and his entire body went rigid as he reached his peak deep, deep inside you. He gulped air in as soon as you released him, panting hard while you cooed at him, kissing his face and chest while you waited for him to calm down. You ran your fingers through his damp hair to get it out of his eyes and when he finally smiled at you sleepily you pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth.

With a silent dismount you went into the ensuite bathroom to clean yourself up, returning with a damp towel for Van. You worked on unhooking the handcuffs and frowned when you saw bruises already forming under his delicate skin.

“Babe you should’ve told me they were too tight.” His head lolled over to look at you and he grunted out a word that sounded almost like ‘Sorry.’ With a shake of your head you wiped his forehead clean of sweat and cleaned up the mess made at his crotch. His entire body jerked when you touched his shaft and you giggled softly. You left the room to get you both some water and some pain killers for Van, pausing to pull his discarded shirt over your head. When you returned you could tell he was just on the edge of passing out.

“Y/N,” He mumbled. “‘M really sorry.” You helped him sit up and handed him the water and painkillers.

“I know.” You kissed him again. “You did very well. And now we know that Van Mccann isn’t just some boring vanilla rockstar.” You both got under the covers, letting Van be the big spoon. You were just about to fall asleep, absolutely spent, when he whispered in your ear.

“Next time you’ll be the one in handcuffs.”

[catfishandthebottlefan]

#13 - Your Room’s on the First Floor

A/N- Hi! I know I haven’t been posting a lot, I’m sorry about that. But here’s a long-ish one for y’all. It’s nearly midnight here so sorry if there’s typos 😂 i love this one, it’s HELLA fluffy :) ~ Anna xxx

You stepped into the warmth of the B&B, quickly removing your sodden coat and hanging it on the free-standing wooden rack in the large hallway. You wiped your black Doc Martens on the doormat before removing them and placing them on the shoe rack to the left of the front door. Mary and Bernie’s B&B felt homely, with family photos hung on the walls, and their own shoes and coats on the racks as well as those of their guests. For example, next to your relatively new black Docs sat an identical (but larger) pair - old and scuffed, but clearly well-loved and worn. You presumed these belonged to the couple’s son, whom you’d never seen or met, but his parents spoke fondly enough of him for you to know he was a nice boy. 

The B&B felt quiet; nobody seemed to be home, which was unusual. However, you had returned at an unusual time compared to most guests, who would usually appear at about 6 or 7pm after having had their dinner, whereas it was only quarter past 2. You were sick of seeing your mum and new step-dad “canoodling” like a pair of sickeningly loved-up teenagers, and were sick of being told to “cheer up, you’re on holiday”. How did they expect you to be full of joy when they’d brought you to the arse-end of Wales? It was nothing like the holidays you went on with your dad, to exotic places like Morocco or Italy. 

“We’ve been through this, Y/N, Steve and I just don’t have money like your dad-” 

“Well if you’d stayed with Dad instead of fucking off with some old git from your shitty job, and somehow dragging me with you, we’d still be able to go on nice holidays!” 

And that was when you’d stormed off back to the B&B, leaving them to hold hands under the sunset, or eat fish and chips on the beach, or buy cheesy fridge magnets for no other reason than to disguise the complete mundaneness of the absolute shit holiday. Well, that’s what you’d presumed they’d end up doing, although you tried to kid yourself that you didn’t care, and that you didn’t cry yourself to sleep at night wishing that you could go back all those years, to when your parents were together and life was less shit. 

In a way, you were glad you’d had the argument, as it meant you had an excuse to go back and have a smoke. Smoking was your guilty pleasure, and, although you didn’t consider yourself addicted, you loved the sense of relief that came with sitting down and having a cigarette, watching the end light up and fall off as you gently sucked on the filter. There was something therapeutic about watching the embers fall off and create ash at your feet, and watch the patterns created in the cloud of smoke that would surround your face. 

Now wearing just your Oasis t-shirt, ripped jeans and fluffy socks, you walked up the carpeted stairs towards your room. However, once you reached the first floor, you stopped in your tracks. Was that a guitar you could hear?

You followed the melody up another flight, and along the second floor landing, until you reached a tiny room right at the very end of the hallway. The door was ever so slightly ajar, and you could now hear the lyrics of the song more clearly - When You Were Young by The Killers. The mystery guitar player clearly had good taste.

You stood outside the door, on the hinge side so the occupants of the room couldn’t see you, listening to the music. However, you decided you had to burst in when the lyric was changed to “he doesn’t look a thing like Larry”, preceded by a crescendo of laughter, part of which was coming from yourself.

“Um, hi,” you said, rather shyly considering the fact that you were the one who’d interrupted them, “I love this song.”

You looked up from your feet to see a long-haired boy sitting cross-legged on the ground, an acoustic guitar in his lap. Like you, he wore ripped jeans and fluffy socks, however he wore a The Streets hoodie. He was accompanied by another equally long-haired boy, however this one’s hair was pushed back by a headband, and he was barefoot, wearing a black Adidas tracksuit. 

“The Killers, absolutely class band, innit.” said Guitar boy, looking up at you, “You look cold.”

After he said that, you realised exactly how drenched you were. As much as you loved your black calf-length trenchcoat, you realised it wasn’t quite waterproof to Welsh standards.

“I did get a bit soaked actually,” you chuckled, “I should go get changed-”

“No, wait, sit down,” Guitar boy instructed, and you did as he said, “What are you doing back so early anyway? Mum said not to expect any guests till 6.”

“Oh, you’re the son, then!” you burst out.

Headband boy laughed. “He’s the son.”

“Sorry, this isn’t the best of introductions is it?” you laughed, aware of your own apparent rudeness, “I’m Y/N, and you are-?”

Both boys spoke up at the same time.

“I’m Van.” said Guitar boy.

“Larry.” said Headband boy.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you stood up, turning to go back to your own room, “But I actually just came back for a ciggie and I..umm... got a bit lost. I thought this was my room. Anyway, I better get back-”

“Hey, don’t leave so soon!” Van said, seemingly offended, “Look, we have plenty of fags under here!” 

He reached under his bed to pull out a packet of Lambert and Butler Blue. He took one out expertly before handing it to you.

“Got a light?” you asked, “Mine’s in my room, I really don’t mind going and getting my own if you don’t want to share-”

“Just shut up and take the free fag,” Larry interrupted, “What do you smoke anyway?”

“Anything I can get my hands on, but Marlboro Silver at the moment-”

“Marlboro? You’re posh!” Larry teased, “They’re well expensive!”

“I’m not posh!” you laughed, going red in the face.

“She is well posh, have you seen her mum and dad?” Van chipped in.

“Not my dad.” you replied, deftly. The phrase had almost become a reflex now.

“Wait, how do you know my parents? I’ve been here three days and I haven’t seen you once!” 

You leant against Van as he explained how he’d been at Larry’s, which was “just down the road there, then the avenue, opposite the chippy”. You shivered as you puffed the cigarette.

Van put his hand on your arm. “Love, you’re fucking freezing!”

Before you even had time to refuse, Van pulled his hoodie off and put it over your head. You wriggled out of your t-shirt from underneath, and pulled your knees under the cosy jumper. It was still warm from when Van had been wearing it.

You noticed more and more about the boys after you’d warmed up a bit. Van was now wearing a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and used his bare arms as an excuse to sit closer to you, “as you’ve nicked my jumper”. He told you about his band, after you asked about the handwritten lyric sheets strewn across the floor of what you presumed was his bedroom, although the room was tiny.

“Bet your band’s shit,” you teased, Larry joining in.

“Yeah it’s well crap, only sold two tickets and that was to my brother and his mate,” Larry laughed, “And their songs are shite.”

“They’re not!” Van protested, his voice going an octave higher, “Look, I’ll play one to you right now!”

“Go on then, Julian Casablancas.” you retorted.

“Fine, okay, this one’s called ASA-”

“Not that one, it’s proper shit!” Larry objected, “It’s about meeting up to have sex with Ab-”

“Shut the fuck up, Larry.” Van almost growled.

“Who’s Abbie?” you asked, curiously, “Friends with benefits?”

“No!” Van confirmed, “An ex-girlfriend.”

“Basically, all the songs he’s ever written are about her.” Larry whispered in your ear.

“Well, I guess he has someone new to write a song about now.” you said, looking Van in the eyes.

“I guess I do.”

--

The next day, you saw Van helping his parents at breakfast, and he handed you a screwed up piece of paper when he served you. You placed it in your pocket, and, after you’d finished, ran straight up to your room to read it.

Beach, 20 mins, the note read, in scrawled handwriting.

You got dressed hastily, throwing on your black denim skirt, with fishnets underneath, and Van’s hoodie. You told your mum you’d made a friend and could you spend the day with them, so she and Steve could have some alone time. Steve almost looked relieved, nodding his head, and your mum seemed too occupied in reading her Facebook messages to acknowledge the information. 

You took it as a yes.

Just as you put your boots on, Mary appeared from the kitchen.

“Hi, love, where are you off to? Ooh, I like your jumper, our Van has one exactly like that, doesn’t he, Bern?” 

“Just the beach, I’m meeting a friend there for some lunch-”

Bernie appeared from behind her, and patted you on the shoulder reassuringly, “Have fun, love.”

You weren’t too sure if you knew the way to the beach, but you followed the family in front of you and, luckily, they were going there too. You found Van, sitting on the wall separating the gift shops from the sand, acoustic guitar on his lap.

“That’s my fuckin’ jumper!” he greeted you enthusiastically, jumping off the wall to hug you. 

You smiled, pulling the note out of your pocket, “So, explain this.”

Van sat himself back down on the wall.

“Well, I needed a new girl to write a song about, and you were a good excuse.” he smiled, cheekily.

He brushed your blonde fringe out of your eyes.

“Your eyes are well-blue y’know,” he said, dreamily, “like, I dunno, they’re quite delicate, but also brave, like the sea or summit-”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, although your heart felt warm.

“And your hair, I love it,” he continued, “it’s just you. Messy, windswept, but warm and kind - I like the colour.” “My hair isn’t naturally blonde, you know.” you replied quietly, staring at his lips.

He leaned in closer, so your foreheads were almost touching.

“And you have freckles-”

“Shut up and kiss me.” you muttered, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss was a million fireworks, tender yet exciting, lighting up a fire inside your chest that you’d forgotten existed.

As you pulled away, you noticed Van smirking, a glint in his eye.

“That was part of the plan, wasn’t it!” You squealed, outraged, “Compliment her till she kisses you!”

“No!” he replied, his voice once again getting higher in volume and pitch, “I was gonna sing to you first.”

He grabbed your hand, helping you up onto the wall. He strummed the first chord of the song.

I can tell by your grin That you're lying through your fringe again This talk is getting us nowhere Let's set sail for nowhere It was just one night And it was just one time And you looked amazing From what I was taking Keep breathing, keep breathing Settle down in your home It's only rainfall Keep breathing, keep breathing Settle down in your home It's only rainfall You know it's only rainfall

As he strummed the last chord of the somewhat short song, you smiled.

“It’s not finished yet-” 

“Shhh, it was perfect.” you whispered.

“But when exactly did I lie?” you asked, more loudly.

Van chuckled.

“When you said you got lost. Your room’s on the first floor.”

[you-andthebottlemen]

58 - Original: Van taking care of you when you’re stressed (platonic)

So after seeing Catfish recently I had a lotttt of emotions and feelings. Also very stressed at the moment so writing this fic sort of felt like therapy. It’s a platonic Van x reader fic but take it how you want. I hope you enjoy it!

Love E x

****************************************************************

Stress was one thing. What you were experiencing right now was something else entirely. The sort of stress and panic that filled your body with an uncomfortable burning feeling which made your appetite disappear and stopped you from being able to do anything at all. Completely paralysing.

You sat on the floor, laptop and notebooks spread out in front of you, just blankly staring at the screen. Your digital calendar with all the different commitments colour coded glowed dauntingly. You wanted to be sick. So much to do, not enough time and you had no idea where to begin. You were absolutely spinning out.

“Y/n. Here, have one of them peach teas you like so much,” Larry insisted as he walked through the door of your bedroom.

He held out a plastic bottle of peach iced tea, your favourite. You just shook your head, not taking your eyes off of the screen. He sighed and placed it down on your desk anyway after clearing a spot amongst all the papers and pens. Bless him. He’d been trying to help any way he could for the last few days. From bringing you your favourite things the way a dog brings their Person a toy as a sign of love, to offering to proof read your work and even attempting to cook you a roast. It meant the world but wasn’t any help once you were in this state.

The draft of your thesis was due in one short week and you were absolutely nowhere near close enough to reaching that deadline. Aside from that you’d been rostered on for extra shifts this week at work too. You just had no time and your brain couldn’t get anything straight. You just couldn’t see how you’d get everything done or how you would get through it all.

“C’mon y/n. You can’t keep going like this. What can I do?”

“Nothing.”

Larry stood leaning against the door frame. You groaned and fell back onto the floor, legs spread out. You drifted into a haze of weirdly calm panic, gazing into the off-white ceiling. You heard Larry sigh, shuffle away and put the kettle on in the kitchen.

Minutes or perhaps hours passed. You were only brought out of your staring match with the ceiling when you heard voices.

“Not even sleeping like, won’t eat. Nothing. ‘Dunno what to do...”

Larry was talking to someone, clearly about you. There was more said but you didn’t catch it. You heard two pairs of footsteps come closer and closer to your room. Staying flat on your back, eyes upwards, you didn’t look to see who Larry had brought over. But you didn’t have to look. Van walked over and wordlessly lay down on the floor beside you. He looked up at the ceiling too and rested his hands on his stomach.

“What’s goin’ on, babe?” he asked quietly, casually.

There was no sound of concern in his voice, no fear of saying the wrong thing like Larry always had when you got like this. You liked that. Sometimes, somehow, Van just seemed to get you more than anyone else and you didn’t know why. It made sense that Larry had called him as a last resort. You’d been mates with the boys for a few years now and house sat for Larry while he was away. Though you’d been staying there for the last few weeks despite him being home, working on your thesis; their wifi was better and ironically, they lived closer to the library than you did.

“Stressed,” you grunted back.

“Yeah. So, what, are you gonna stare at this wall forever?” he asked, teasing you lightly.

It worked, your eyes were pulled away for the off-white and snapped to his face instead.

He was looking at you now, a small smile curling up at the corners of his lips. His eyes glinted and his mouth hung open slightly.

“It’s a ceiling. And I guess not, no,” you replied, your voice weak but your racing thoughts put on hold for a moment.

Van cracked a little grin and sat up. He stood and stepped over you, one foot either side of your legs and held his arms out. As he looked down at you, his fringe flopped forwards over his forehead and his golden necklace fell from between his collar and hung in the air off his neck.

“Up ya get.”

You begrudgingly grabbed onto his hands. They were warm against your cold skin which was somewhat calming, and he pulled you to your feet with surprising strength. You felt like a rag doll being lifted about. Once you were standing, you wrapped your arms around yourself. You’d hardly eaten or slept and the sudden movement made you a little lightheaded. The anxiety was still going full force and your heart rate was so fast it was making you clammy. You glanced at the door; no sign of Larry, he’d left Van to deal with your shit alone.

“Come on. Bath. You look like shit love, sorry. Need to wash your hair and stuff,” Van instructed.

“Like you can talk!” you replied, reaching out to touch his usually greasy as fuck hair that was actually rather soft and shiny today.

Van smirked and guided you to the bathroom. You smelt lavender wafting from the open door; Larry had only gone and run you a bath, probably at Van’s instruction. You could have just melted on the spot. These boys were too, too good to you. It was oddly nice just being told what to do and where to go. Your brain didn’t have to operate for a little while which was a pleasant change to the constant state of overdrive it had been in.

Van left you to shed your clothes and step into the hot bubble bath. The heat warmed your bones and you could feel some of the tension leave your body. The big lights were off, only the dim lights around the mirror were switched on, creating a warm glow. You shut your eyes and breathed slowly. After a while, you dipped your head back into the water and let your hair soak.

Eventually there was a gentle knock at the door. You made a humming sound to invite whichever of the boys it was, inside. With a deep breath you brought your knees to your chest and hugged them, letting the bubbles cover you.

Van cautiously walked into the bathroom; probably afraid he’d see more of you than either of you bargained for. You just smiled at him sweetly and he placed a cup of tea down on the tiled corner between the bath and wall for you and your pyjamas on the sink.

“Thank you, Van. I love Larry. But I needed this, thanks for the push.”

“That’s alright, love. Larry’s good, but I’ve got more experience handling girls,” he replied smugly.  

You cringed a little but laughed softly. You loved Van’s easy confidence in himself.

“What! You’ve seen him, he’s a bit clueless…” Van chuckled, defending his cockiness. This just made you giggle more because Van was just as clueless, only in different ways.

“Oh don’t say that…but yeah. He’s been bringing me assorted drinks all day.”

Van joined in your laughter but was still radiating love for his best friend.

“Okay…well I’ll leave you to it,” Van said finally, standing awkwardly and looking down at you.

You felt slow and sleepy, at ease finally.

“No. Play me a song?”

“Yeah?” Van replied, his face perking up.

You nodded and shut your eyes again.

Van disappeared from the bathroom and you used this time to slurp up the tea he’d brought in. When he returned acoustic guitar in hand, Van shut the door behind him and closed the toilet lid before sitting down. You placed the mug back in its spot and lay back against the bath as Van began to softly strum some gentle chords in a melody that was slow and sweet. You had never felt so relaxed. Trying to respect your privacy, he didn’t look up from the strings, but you were too exhausted and drowsy to care anyway. A comfortable silence fell between you both and you let the sounds of the guitar reverberate against the bathroom’s acoustics, lulling you into a state of bliss.

You knew that all this wasn’t going to fix your problems, but it was good to switch off and recharge. You’d gotten yourself so worked up that you just stopped functioning. You were grateful that Larry had staged a Van intervention and forced you to calm the fuck down.

Once the bubbles began to dissolve and you were close to drifting off to sleep to the sound of Van’s guitar, you mumbled to him about getting your towel. Van held up the fluffy white towel and wrapped it around you as you stepped out of the tub. Just as before, he disappeared to give you peace and privacy.

You lazily applied some body butter to all your dry patches, the vanilla scent perking you up a bit. When you were done, you grabbed Larry’s dressing gown that was hung behind the door and put it on over your t-shirt and pyjama pants. You trudged out into the kitchen, expecting to see Van and Larry in there having a smoke, but it was empty.

After a quick glance in the mostly unfilled fridge, you settled on heating up some salty edamame beans. You took the bowl with you through the house and found the boys sat on Larry’s bed playing Fifa. When you walked through the door, Van paused the game and looked over at you with a raised eyebrow, curious about what was in the bowl.

In the bath, you sort of felt like you were on a cloud of lavender and bubbles and calm. Now, you just felt kinda numb and tired. The anxiety was mostly gone for now, and you’d gotten so used to it being there that you felt weird without it.

“Thanks,” you said again to the boys as you climbed over Van and sat between them.

You leaned back against Larry’s bed head and stretched your legs out like the other two.

“Dunno’ how Van got through to you but thank God he did, couldn’t deal with zombie y/n anymore,” Larry admitted, a dumb little smile on his face.

You gave him a look and bumped your shoulder into his.

“I got that magic touch,” Van replied smoothly, proud of himself for essentially bringing you back to the land of the living.

“That sounds wrong, mate…” Larry snorted.

You rolled your eyes at the two of them. Boys.

You sucked and chewed on the edamame beans, enjoying the salt and the satisfaction of popping the beans out of the pod with your teeth.

“Why’re you eatin’ peas y/n?” Van asked, not looking away from the screen as they’d resumed the game.

“Not peas,” you replied.

You explained what they were, and Van wanted to try. Larry had tried edamame a few times and decided he hated them. When the game was next paused, you told him what to do, reinforcing that you don’t eat the pod. This baffled Van a little, but it was cute and entertaining watching him work out the new food.

You and Larry watched carefully as Van’s face slowly transitioned through a range of responses as he put the pod in his mouth, he popped the beans and chewed.

“Don’t like the texture,” he said once he swallowed.

“Of the beans or the pod?”

“Both. Seems like hard work just for a couple peas.”

“Not peas, but yeah.”

Larry was giggling at Van’s response.

“More for me I guess,” you shrugged.

“Oi. Didn’t say I wasn’t having any more!” Van responded, his voice going all high.

With a laugh you placed the bowl down on your legs and let Van take another bean. He had the same confused and slightly disgusted reaction as last time, but you didn’t say anything because you knew he was doing it for your benefit. The laughter and the distraction were good. And so were the two boys sat either side of you.

You’d face the day tomorrow with a fresh start and knowing that if you got snowed under again, Van and even Larry, would be there armed with shovels to help you dig yourself out.

[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.

[timeforaciggy]

looking for fellow catb writers/mutuals!

  I’ve got some ideas I’m working on fic wise (lmao i know it’s hard to imagine) but on the side I’d really really like to find other catb writers, and just anyone who would like to be friends/mutuals!

  This fandom and the amazing writers and blogs are what truly inspire me to try and write at all, and I’d love to be apart of a community thats only limits are tumblr’s censorship, and our imagination lmao

!Also! if you know any writers or have one’s you’d like to recommend, please don’t hesitate to submit their handles through my asks or however you prefer (i’m dying to check out as many as possible!)

[mintyvan]

only ones who know

notes  This is a Van fic by a really good friend of mine who is testing the waters on reactions to her work. If you could message me with any feedback you have, that would be amazing, and I’d relay it back to her. I also wanted to take a second to give my opinion (and I have her permission to do so). 

This fic fucking hurts. It’s real. It’s raw. It gnawed my chest and tightened my heart the whole way through. I’ve never resonated with any fanfic like I’ve resonated with this piece of writing. It split my heart into a million fragments, because it described exactly how I’ve been feeling; with any lack of self control, or any test of temptation, I could very well end up like this girl. I’ve never felt so broken by a piece of literature. Reading this felt as if the author had been spying into my cracked little heart this entire time and wrote a piece to rip me wide open. It’s one of the best things I’ve read in the time I’ve been a part of this CATB fanfic community, genuinely. This is what I want to read... Real, ugly, cutthroat emotions. Pain. Jealousy. Anger. “So much for my happy ending”-s. Despite how it ends in tragedy, it’s refreshingly daring in that it reopens old wounds and reminds me that I’m human. Please enjoy. 

______________

Can I stay with you for a bit?

The question was simple enough. Van turned up on your doorstep after not seeing him in three months with a duffle bag and a large suitcase. He explained over tea that his shared apartment with Larry was being renovated and he’d only gotten the notice when he returned from tour that morning.

“Why not stay with Larry? Or one of the boys?” You asked as you poured milk into your cup. He shrugged with one shoulder and leaned onto your counter.

“You’re cleaner. Smell better. Plus I’ve missed ya.” You smiled slightly into your tea, your heart constricting. “Why do you ask? Are ya sick of me already?” You quickly sputtered in disagreement and he laughed, coming around to your side of the counter and wrapping you up in his arms. “Whaddya say? Will ya put me up?”

You agreed hastily, for which you kicked yourself for not considering the consequences. Before Van started living with you it was easy to hide the feelings you’d been harbouring for him for the last five years. You and Van had been friends since you were fifteen when he and Benji mobbed you in the photo lab and demanded you take pictures of them for their first photoshoot. They offered to repay you in cigarettes and booze. It was Larry’s idea for Van to wear the dress.

It wasn’t until you were twenty that you realized that the love you had for Van was deeper than friendship. You were crammed into the back of a car between Van and Bob. It was after a show that Catfish had absolutely smashed and Van was exhausted from throwing himself around on stage. He’d passed out with his head in your lap, snoring lightly against your thigh and you felt your heart burst with love and adoration for the brunette boy with crooked teeth and questionable hair. Ever since then you followed him around like a lost little puppy. You listened to every song he recommended to you a hundred times and fell in love with them, even the songs that weren’t in your taste.

Controlling your feelings around Van was easy when he wasn’t in your space. You could adore him in secret and then return home and sprawl out on your bed listening to his music and pretend he was singing about you. Having him in your space was dangerous and gut wrenching. You were convinced he was trying his hardest to make you fall deeper in love with him. Van had an innate ability for functioning highly on a limited amount of sleep, so you’d often awake before the sun had risen to the sound of him strumming the guitar and singing softly from the living room. He’d bring you tea in bed and lay next to you on top of the covers and you’d talk about anything and everything. He also had a tendency to walk around with little to no clothing on and brush up against you while he reached for a box of special K on the shelf behind your head. It was maddening. Living with Van was simultaneously a dream come true and self inflicted torture on your poor little heart.

It was a Saturday night and you were out with the boys. It amazed you that they could spend so much time together and not get sick of one another. The bar was crowded and rowdy and everyone was drinking, even Bob. You loved drinking with Van because he got clingy and you were more often than not the object he was clinging to. You spent most of the night tucked under his arm. When you went to order another round of shots he kept his arms around your waist and ghosted his lips against the back of your neck and you felt good. Whole. It was nice to be in his arms, to be wanted. Your body fit up against his like puzzle pieces, and you wondered if he could feel it too. If he could feel how easy it was. Like breathing.

You got your answer the following morning. You’d left the club with Bondy and Bob before the rest of the group to get food and returned back to your house. Drunkenly you ate samosas and paneer on the living room floor with your head resting against Bob’s knee and Bondy’s feet on your lap. They both passed out on your couch and you retreated to your room, passing out on top of your covers. When you woke you emerged from your room, rounding the corner into your kitchen when you collided with a figure and stumbled back. Your lips parted to scream out of shock but the girl was staring back at you with just as much surprise.

“Oh!” She squeaked, shaking her hands. 

“I’m sorry!” You took a step back and looked at the girl. She was... stunning. She had dark, rich skin, huge brown eyes, full lips, and long curly hair that hung in tight rings around her frame.

“Who... What the fuck?” You blinked at her a few times. She was tiny, only up to your shoulder, Van’s The Streets sweatshirt hanging around her petite frame. The sweatshirt that you bought him. She had a pair of leather peep toe heels in her hand and was seemingly sneaking out. The walk of shame had never looked so good.

“Sorry!” She blinked her sparkling eyes at you and shot you a sweet smile.

“I’m Simone. Uhm, sorry, who are you?” You swallowed thickly. Where and when did Van meet this girl? You’d never heard of her before and Van left the club only an hour after you had. Did he really manage to get a gorgeous girl to come home with him in under an hour?

“I’m Y/N. This is my house.”

“Oh. Van didn’t mention he had a roommate.” You swallowed thickly. Van didn’t mention you. A more rational part of you said that Van was just drunk and charming and trying to get a girl in bed with him. 

“Hope we weren’t too loud.” That fucking stung. There wasn’t any undertone of bitchiness, just a genuine concern that she perhaps was being rude. You crossed your arms over your stomach and shrugged, forcing out a smile.

“Not at all. I knocked out as soon as I tucked those two in so,” You chuckled awkwardly, jerking a thumb over your shoulder at Bondy and Bob who’s legs were entangled on the couch. “No worries.”

“Good,” She nodded, and you wondered if her cheeks ever hurt from smiling so much.

“Uhm,” You wiped your palms on your sleep shorts. “Did you want tea? I make the boys breakfast after nights like this, you’re more than welcome to stay.” You figured you’d be nice and invite her banking on the fact that she’d say no. You thought it was a one night stand. You thought she’d politely decline and slip out into the mid morning, never to be seen again.

Instead she graciously accepted your invitation and freely walked into your kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar, her shoes on the counter. You nodded and gathered your hair up in a messy bun before walking into the kitchen behind her and setting the kettle.

Simone was, in essence, the greatest person you’d ever met. Not only was she fucking gorgeous, but she was also going to school to be a pediatric cardiologist. In her very little free time she volunteered at a fucking animal shelter and fostered any dogs that were on the euthanization list. As you talked to her you wanted to hate her, but for one girl hate wasn’t your thing, and two, it was fucking impossible. She was so sweet and kind and generous and bubbly and magnetising, you understood why Van would bring her home. You probably would’ve taken her home yourself if Van didn’t have you so whipped.  

Half an hour later the devil himself emerged from the guest room annoyingly beautiful and distractingly nude. His face lit up when he saw Simone perched in your chair, smiling so wide and slinging his arm around her shoulder, fitting her right up against him like you were last night. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered into her beautiful hair. You swallowed the scene like hot rocks down your throat and focused your attention on the pancakes in front of you.

A few minutes later Bondy and Bob walked in and joined Van and Simone at the counter. They introduced themselves, visibly charmed by Simone’s personality and startling looks.

“For something so little,” Bondy sipped from the mug you’d placed in front of him. “You sure know how to make some noise.” The guys laughed and Simone ducked her head in embarrassment. You wanted nothing more than to escape your home but you offered her a sympathetic grin and slid pancakes onto the plates in front of everybody. Simone’s existence in your life was a sobering slap to the face in regards to your and Van’s relationship. There was no need to wonder now. It was clear that you two were friends, nothing more, nothing less. Van’s hands on her waist made you want to puke, a real, guttural nausea settling over you. After everyone was eating you excused yourself to the bathroom to empty your stomach. You convinced yourself it was just the hangover. It was comforting to see the pain as something that would go away in a couple of hours.

Your run-ins with Simone became annoyingly frequent as time passed. More often than not you’d return home from work to find them on your couch, watching movies on your netflix account, eating your food. It was uncomfortable to you how quickly she’d managed to become a fixture in Van’s life but you knew that was how he rolled. He loved and trusted people so deeply and so quickly. You were sure that Van would’ve told Simone he loved her right there against the kitchen counter if it was more socially acceptable. You didn’t want to admit it but you felt like you were being replaced. Before Simone it was you and Van and the boys against the world and now... you weren’t sure you knew where your place was anymore.

You went out with the lads and her but you could feel yourself retreating. You barely spoke anymore but hey, at least Simone was there to fill the spaces you left.

It’d been two months since that first run in and you were celebrating Bondy’s birthday at his apartment. You were trying your hardest to restore yourself to how you lived pre-Simone but you could feel the jealousy eat it’s way through your body with each passing day. You weren’t taking it out on anyone but yourself. Van and Simone arrived at the party about a half hour after you did. Before they arrived you were able to convince yourself that you were okay. You were doing body shots off of Bondy and posing for Bob as he snapped pictures of you. Then you saw Simone’s mane of curls and it was like someone flipped a switch. Your demeanor went from technicolor to sepia as you excused yourself from the table, but not before swiping the mostly full bottle of tequila and escaping onto the balcony.

You smoked and took swigs from the bottle, allowing the tears to roll down your cheeks as you stared out over the city. Envy burned through your veins like battery acid and you considered your options. The first; Tell Van. That would alleviate the weight that was crushing your existence but he’d be out of your life. He’d laugh in your face, shake his head and tell you “No.” Option two; Keep smiling and pray that you’d miraculously stop loving Van. It was becoming unbearable to hold your love and want in your chest. It was killing you. Option three; Disappear. You could sneak off in the middle of the night with a bag packed and vanish. Go to America. New phone, change your hair, maybe go to California and fall in love with someone attainable. Forget about Van and Simone, leave your unhappy life behind you and get gone. You liked the idea of that.

You’d started to look up flights when the sliding door opened and shut and someone leaned onto the railing next to you.

“How long have you been in love with him?” Simone asked softly, her eyes on you. You sniffed and sucked on your cigarette, flicking the butt onto the street below.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You said, completely unconvincing. She cocked her head to the side with a look that said Bitch, stop acting, we both know the truth. You smiled beneath your mascara streaks and lit up another smoke, looking up at the sky. “Five years.” She let out a long, low whistle. “Is it that obvious?” She lifted her shoulder in a half shrug.

“To me, yeah. The boys, I don’t think so.” She shook her head, laughing lightly. “That first night, at the bar?” She started, leaning her forearms. “I thought you two were together. Van was all wrapped around you and the way you looked at him...” The expression on your face made her stop. The pain she was inflicting on you was excruciating. All want. No possession. “But then I saw you leave without him and, I don’t know, I just gravitated toward him. He’s... incredible.” You nodded in agreement. “You know where he took me on our first date? The aquarium. Spent the whole time talking about how bad he felt for the fish. He’s the best person I’ve met in my life.” You hummed.

Simone sighed and turned towards you. “I love him too. It’s impossible not to I think.”

You finally looked at Simone’s face. Her full lips were smiling softly at you and she looked almost apologetic for being happy. You didn’t want that. “I’m not going to say anything to him. Not my place.” She opened her arms to you and you stepped into them despite having to crouch down to be her height. “He loves you. It might not be the type of love you want but... You’re such a big part of his life. He talks about you all the time. I’d feel threatened if it wasn’t Van.” You wept into the fabric of her peacoat as she rubbed your back. She held you until you were all sobbed out and you stepped out of her arms, sniffing. She held your face and wiped your cheeks with her thumbs. “It’ll be okay.” You nodded, looking into her brown eyes you understood why Van felt the way he felt. “But you can’t keep on repressing these feelings or you’ll just end up miserable.”

The door slid open as you hugged Simone again, Van backlit from the light emanating from the house. “My girls,” He grinned, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around the both of you. His chin rested on your head and you met Simone’s eyes. She nodded and mouthed it’ll be okay.

It fucking wasn’t though. Over the next month you began imploding. Sure Van had girlfriend’s before that he got wrapped up in but this was different. He was consumed with Simone. And if she wasn’t physically at your house she was still there. Van had written nine songs about her and played them constantly on his guitar. You started to change. It was subtle at first. You’d take a couple extra shots when you went out. Let strangers slide their hands up your leg. You avoided being at home as much as possible. You went a week without seeing Van and he lived a hallway away from you. You were sure he didn’t notice.

Then it started to get worse. You were drinking before noon. Thank God you worked for yourself otherwise you’d be fired. You’d black out most nights. You started sleeping with anyone who reminded you of Van. This boy who had Van’s nose. That girl who shared his sharp cheekbones and long eyelashes. It deteriorated into sleeping with anyone who approached you. You were trying to fill the Van shaped hole in your heart with people who didn’t fit. You lost weight. Your eyes got purple circles under them that wouldn’t disappear. You couldn’t look Van in the eye anymore and if Simone was home when you were around you’d lock yourself in the bathroom and attempt to drown out the noise of them together with the shower. You didn’t respond to the texts that the boys would send you asking where you disappeared to.

You overheard Van and Simone talking about you in the kitchen one night.

“It’s like she’s not here anymore,” Van stressed, and you could imagine him tugging at his hair while Simone rubbed his back. “She won’t talk to anyone. She won’t talk to me. I think I need to call her mum cause this is getting out of hand.” Simone was quiet for a moment.

“Just give her some time, Van,” She spoke softly. “She’s going through some things and she needs space.”

“And the fact that you won’t tell me what’s goin’ on drives me up the fuckin’ wall, Sim.”

“It’s not my business to tell.”

After your eavesdropping event you began acting. Plastered smiles on your face, wore extra concealer, responded to text messages with an amount of emoji’s that Bondy deemed “annoyingly excessive.” You convinced the boys that you’d just had a mental health situation, and in some ways, you did. You didn’t want them worrying. They took it at face value because nothing like that had ever happened before with you. But Simone saw right the fuck through you. She’d text you nightly asking if you were alright despite being in the other room. She didn’t bring it up around Van because she’d kept her promise. She wasn’t going to expose your feelings to him. And in your fruitless effort to hate her you didn’t, and that made you want to even more.

You felt a growing ball of resentment begin to swell up in your gut at the sight of Van. It sat hot and heavy inside you to the point where you couldn’t be alone with him in a room anymore. You didn’t recognize yourself. You didn’t recognize him.

Larry texted you and asked if you wanted to get drinks with him and maybe one or two of the boys. No Van. No Simone. He said they were going on some big, fancy date. With that information you grabbed a bottle of wine and started getting ready. You were drunk by the time the uber came to pick you up. You collapsed into Larry and Bondy, giggling and loving. You were happy drunk. In a state of mind that wasn’t dangerous. A state that numbed the anger and sadness into a dull throbbing but didn’t make you sick. It was good. You were feeling good. The three of you made your way into a booth at the bar and you sat next to Bondy. He kept an arm around your waist as you rested your head against his shoulder. From across the bar you locked eyes with a man who’s crystal blue eyes looked just like Van’s. Your eyes flicked to the girl who he had in his arms who had a devilish smile curled across her lips. She was beckoning you over with her eyes.

Bob and Benji arrived at some point between your fifth and sixth shot. You stumbled over to the couple despite the boys protests and they introduced themselves. Mona and Sean. You wouldn’t let Sean look you in the eye. Mona grabbed your hand and pulled you out onto the dancefloor, Sean holding your hips with his palms. You were sandwiched between them, your lips smacking wetly against Mona’s as Sean sucked at your throat. You took the drink from her hand and dumped it down your throat. Between the two you opened your eyes at the exact moment that fucking Van and fucking Simone walked in looking extra fancy. Van had on his thick grey wool coat and a soft white cotton shirt. His hair was beautifully tousled. Simone had half of her hair up in a bun and was wearing a dress that hugged her slim body so perfectly it looked like it was painted on. Your eyes met Simone’s over Mona’s hair and she looked displeased. Good. You pulled the couple back towards an exit that opened into a dark alleyway. You didn’t know what you were doing. Maybe trying to make Van jealous? Evoke some sort of reaction out of him that wasn’t fucking pity. Sean held your face in his hands as Mona sank to her knees in front of you, head disappearing under your skirt as she hitched your leg over her shoulder and started to work her tongue against you. Sean pulled a little plastic baggie of white powder out and dumped some of it onto your collarbone before tucking the baggie into your skirt pocket. The powder was gone with a sniff and then his mouth was back on you, arms looped around your waist keeping you upright as Mona’s fingers plunged inside of you. Your knees were shaking, on the verge, when the exit opened and Simone stepped out into the air. Mona’s head popped out from under your skirt as Simone stormed over and grabbed you by the forearm, wrenching you away from the couple as Mona whined and fell back onto her ass. You went to protest but the look on Simone’s face silenced you.

She shoved you into the bathroom and pointed a finger at you. “What the fuck, Y/N? What are you doing?” You didn’t have an answer. You yourself didn’t know. “You need to go home. You’re an absolute mess.”

“Why do you think that is, Simone?” You sneered, feeling all the repressed emotions bubble up in your chest. “Does it have to do with the fact that the man I’ve loved for five years found the perfect girl for him and it’s not me? Maybe the fact that he loves you more than he’ll ever love me. Maybe it’s the fact that you two are so fucking perfect for one another that I can’t even pretend to hate you and it’s fucking killing me. You don’t even know what it feels like to watch you two parade around my fucking house day and night like some less tragic Romeo and Juliet.” You shook your head and looked at yourself in the cracked mirror. You looked like a ghost. Van was right when he said you weren’t there.

“I’m sorry he doesn’t love you, Y/N.” Simone said, making eye contact through the mirror. “But that’s not my fault or his fault or your fault. It’s no one's. It’s just how it fucking is. I’m sorry that this is affecting you this deeply but I love Van and I’m going to for a very long time so you need to suck it up.” You turned and leaned towards her, your noses inches from each other.

“Go fuck yourself, Simone.” You stormed out of the bathroom and back to the booth where the boys were chatting awkwardly. Van jumped up when he saw you and immediately began scanning the room for his Simone. You fell next to Benji in the booth and pulled out the baggie.

“Jesus,” Larry said, leaning forward. “Is that fucking coke?” You watched in your peripheral vision as Simone approached slowly and shook her head at Van who pulled her under his arm and watched as you cut four lines of powder on the table using your credit card. You pulled a straw from Bob’s drink and sniffed up two lines back to back, tilting your head up and pinching your nose. You felt... surprisingly better. More at ease. Excited. Your stomach didn’t feel like it was trying to eat itself anymore.

“Yeah,” You answered Larry’s question. You bounced in your seat as the boys stared in horror at your actions. “Anyone want a bump?” You asked, holding out the straw. They all quickly shook their heads. Bob looked terrified. You turned towards Van, finally looking at him for the first time in weeks.

 “Van?” Your tone was antagonistic. You were trying to start a fight. He quickly shook his head. “Awh, don’t act all brand new now that your girl is around.” You nudged Benji. “We’re all very familiar with how crazy you get on tour.” Your grin was slightly manic. Larry’s jaw hung open. 

“Fine,” You shrugged. “More for me.” You leaned down to snort up the other two lines but before you could a clear liquid was washing the powder off the table and onto your skirt. You jumped up with an exclamation and scowled at Simone who was now clutching an empty glass.

“Knock it off, Y/N.” She commanded, jerking her chin back towards the booth. “You’re acting like a child, throwing a tantrum ‘cause you aren’t getting the thing you want.” Your eyes momentarily flicked to Van’s face who looked confused. 

“Sit down and act like a fucking adult.”  You stepped up to her, glowering and gritting your teeth. Van squeezed her tighter, the movement a warning for you.

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me,” You growled, your hands turning to fists at your sides. Miraculously no one outside your booth was paying attention to what was going on.

“Y/N, calm down.” Van’s voice was low, and when your eyes met his, you could physically feel your heart snap. You stepped back, eyes still pouring into one another and you could feel the tears start to well up.

“Fuck you both,” You whispered, wiping at your eyes before the tears could slip out.

“Y/N, hey,” Bondy said lowly and got out of the booth, walking towards you with his hands up, trying to show you he wasn’t a threat. “Let’s go outside, yeah?” He went to wrap an arm around your shoulders but you slipped away from his grasp.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” You seethed, teeth grinding together.

“Y/N, stop,” Larry said, sighing. You grabbed a beer bottle off the table and chucked it at the wall, watching the rest of the boys dive out of the way to avoid the shrapnel. You knew what you were doing wasn’t cool and you wanted to apologize but you were drunk and high and heart broken and the way everyone was talking to you made you feel ganged up on so instead you crossed your arms over your chest. They looked at you like you’d gone absolutely insane, and there was a real possibility that you did.

“Fuck all of you,” You gritted out. You could see two security guards making their way towards you. “I don’t fucking need this, I don’t need any of you.” You made sure to look Van dead in the eye as you said that. You fled before security could get to you, ducking out into the sleazy alley. Exposed in the night, you made yourself walk three blocks before letting yourself cry. With your back against some random deli and your palm pressed to your mouth to muffle your sobs your chest felt like it was caving in. You were giving a new meaning to the word implode. A half an hour later you called an uber and cried on the way home. You smashed two more glasses in your sink, somehow managing to cut a gash into the webbing between your thumb and pointer finger. Not bothering to tend to your injury you locked your bedroom door behind you and collapsed on top of the sheets. You were grateful to have pain in your life that was physical instead of internal for a change.  

The next morning you woke to a silent house. Your hand had scabbed over but your sheets were stained with blood and you knew you weren’t going to be able to get the stain out. Emerging from your room you listened for a sign of life but were met with the buzzing of the fridge. You creeped around your own house like a ghost, cringing if you made a noise above a whisper. Your head ached and your nose was burning. You set the kettle on the stove and turned it on, grabbing your pack of cigarettes off the counter and the red throw from the back of the couch. It was cold outside, the sun had yet to rise over the tall trees in your backyard and burn off the dew. You tried your hardest to keep your mind clear, trying not to think and failing. Your mind wouldn’t fucking shut up. It screamed at you for loving Van, for acting like a child, for saying those mean things to people who didn’t deserve it, for allowing yourself to collapse into a person you didn’t recognize. You were sad, yes, watching Van be with someone else was painful and miserable, but it was even worse knowing that you were hurting Van and the boys. I’m sorry he doesn’t love you. Your eyes welled up and you freely let the tears roll down your cheeks as you chewed your thumbnail and watched a squirrel climb a tree.

You didn’t jump when you heard the front door open and you didn’t turn when the back door slid open and Van sat down next to you. He smoked for a few minutes, not saying anything as you cried silently.

“We need to talk, Y/N.” The concern lacing his voice made your throat feel thick. For a moment you wished that Van wasn’t a good a good person. It would be so, so much easier if he was an asshole. You could move on. You’d done it a hundred times before. But it was Van. Van who cared and loved so deeply and so strongly it was impossible not to love him with the same intensity. “What you’re doing is scaring me, Y/N. It’s fucking scaring all of us. We’re worried about you.” Your stomach wound itself up into knots. “Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on so I can make it better?” His arm curled around your shoulders and no matter how much you wanted to resist you wrapped your arms around his middle and shriveled into him. You sobbed into his chest as he kissed your hair and rubbed your back. He rested his chin on your head as you ruined his shirt. “I miss my best friend.” It made you weep even harder.

“I can’t, Van,” You wailed, gripping his shirt. You wept like the world was coming to an end, harder than you ever had before, harder then when you’d discovered that your grandad died. Your words were garbled and choked and almost impossible to understand but Van did.

“Please, just, tell me.” He was begging. You couldn’t see it but his eyes were welling up too.

“I can’t be your friend anymore.” You choked out. He tensed up beneath you. “I’m in love with you, Van, and it’s killing me.” He inhaled sharply through his nose, you shoving him away like he was a ticking time bomb, which, in essence, he was. You wrapped your arms around your middle in an attempt to keep your body from falling apart. The confession sat, sizzling in the air, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit better. The thing that you had been keeping a secret for so long wasn’t taking up space in your body anymore and you felt like you could breathe easier.

“You love me? You’re in love with me?” His voice was low, shocked. You were bracing yourself for the laughter.

“Yeah, Van.” You lifted your shoulder in a half shrug. “How could I not be?” From the corner of your eye you watched as Van wiped his palms over his face like he did when he tried to sober up. You’d just dropped a bomb on your relationship, something he couldn’t very easily wrap his head around.

“How long?” You don’t respond, just picked at your nails and pretended he didn’t say anything. “Fuck, Y/N how long?” His voice was getting louder, you could feel him staring at you.

You inhaled through your nose and looked up at the blue sky. “Five years.” There was a beat of silence before Van slammed his hand on the railing he was leaning up against.

“What the fuck Y/N!” You jumped at the sudden burst of energy, watching him as he stood and paced back and forth in front of you.

“It doesn’t matter Van, just,” You sighed. “Just forget it. You’ve made your choice.” He stopped moving and looked at you, slightly bewildered.

“Choice.” He repeated the word like it was foreign to him. “I didn’t even know I had a choice!” He put his hands on his face and groaned. “And here I’ve been, parading Simone around like a fuckin’ dick in front of you.” He removed his hands and bit his lower lip, looking tortured. “Why didn’t you fuckin’ tell me?”

You pulled your blanket tighter around you and chewed on the inside of your cheek, your face burning from the salt of your tears. You couldn’t ignore the irony of the situation, that your own secrecy and precautions would be the cause of the fallout. You took a deep breath in. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Bullshit,” He spat. “You tell people you love them, simple as that. It’s not that fuckin’ hard.” You chuckled darkly and shook your head. Of course Van would say that. He wore his heart on his sleeve, he didn’t bottle things up. He made sure everyone knew how he felt, there was no secrecy with Van Mccann.

“I’m not you Van. I was scared.” He kneeled on the step in front of you and held your face in his hands. He was crying too.

“But it’s me, Y/N. We tell each other everything.” You jerked away from him like he’d slapped you and stood.

“Okay Van,” You nodded. “Let’s say I did tell you sooner. Would it have changed anything?”

His blank expression speaks volumes. One question turned the tables as you asked Van to consider something he’d never thought about before. You and him, together, really. It was a foreign and new realm that he’d never entered before. You’d tossed him into water to sink or swim and he tried to come up with a viable answer that would satisfy everyone but couldn’t.

You nodded, the silence ripping through your heart. You had your answer.

“See?” You sniffed. “It wouldn’t of mattered if I told you a month ago or five years ago. You don’t feel the same. And that’s fine. I can’t force you to fall in love with me.” Van’s lips parted to speak but you kept going. “I don’t blame you. My fault for catching feelings.” You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand. “Uhm, I’m gonna go stay with Bob for a bit.” You went back inside the house, Van hot on your heels. Calling your name. You locked yourself in your room and packed a bag. When you opened the door Van grabbed the strap and held you in place.

“Y/N,” It sounded like a beg. He was defeated. “I’ll go. I’m not gonna kick you out of your own home.” You shook your head.

“It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” He held your chin in his hand until you looked him in the eye.

“I’ll see you soon?” He asked, voice hopeful and you closed your eyes.

“Probably not. I can’t be around you two and I’m not gonna force you to pick. That’s not fair of me.” He dropped his hand and took a step back.

“So you’re saying we can’t be friends?” Your bottom lip quivered and you had to bite it to get it to stop.

“Not anytime soon.”

You fled from the house like a bat out of hell and sped over to Bob’s. You’d told him. It was all out on the table. But you didn’t feel strong or confident or powerful. You felt heartbroken and bitter. You banged on Bob’s door until you were greeted with his sleepy eyes and collapsed into his arms, a weeping mess. You told him the whole story and apologized for the previous night but he said he understood. He put you up and followed your instructions of not letting Van in.

Simone had lied. It wasn’t okay. And it wouldn’t be okay.

[godlyvan]

10 | FIRST TIME

summary | y/n’s first time with van.

warnings | this is pure smut, if ya don’t like, don’t read it. don’t say i didn’t warn you.

a/n | hello, lovelies! i hope you all enjoy this as much as @storiesaboutvan did when she read my first draft of it. and a huge thank you to Rhi and @mintyvan for the compliments yesterday. Sure did mean a lot to me. Love you both bunches.

requests | another smut request s/o to whoever requested the last one i feel ya

Her hands shook a little. She didn’t really know what to do. She’d kissed boys before, and been fingered by one, but she’d never really gotten farther than that. She played with the straps of the lingerie set that lay across her stomach gently. She breathed out slowly, taking deep breaths in. She was nervous, to say the very least. Van would be coming home any minute, walking through the door to a sweet surprise. She threw on her robe, heading downstairs to make some tea.

Her mind raced with those kinds of thoughts, the supposed ‘calm before the storm’ type. She thought back to when his hands were all over her, his fingertips grazing over any inch of skin they could find. She remembered the dizzy feeling she had in her head when his hands dipped underneath the waistband of her underwear. Her hands gripped onto his shoulders as she gradually came to her high, riding it out with rapid hips.

She loved how sweet he was in those moments. He always checked to make sure she was okay with everything. His lips constantly gave reassuring kisses to her cheeks and her neck. Y/N was happy that he was okay with the fact that she was a virgin. Usually, boys don’t go for girls who’re inexperienced. Van adored her innocence, wanting to protect it until she was ready. At times, however, he was a bit frustrated that she wouldn’t do anything. Those were the times where he was so hard, it was unbearable for him.

But those times were often followed by jacking off in the shower. One hand would be used to prop himself up against the wall, the other wrapped around his manhood. His eyebrows would furrow as visions of Y/N filled his mind. Her hands wrapped around him, before her mouth would follow. He imagined her body pinned under his as he relentlessly pounded into her, his hands wrapped around her wrists. His breathing slowly became irregular, even more dirty thoughts filled his mind. Eventually his head would fall down, the water still hitting his back, as his vision changed from black to white. His stomach tensed as his high washed over him.

Van wasn’t expecting the sight before him. Y/N’s robe was untied, the sides of the robe parallel to hers. The lingerie was on full display, every strap and inch of lace visible to Van’s eye, he practically melted on sight. His coat fell to the floor with barely any noise. Y/N didn’t even notice he was there. She held her cuppa in one hand, the other hand occupying a book she’d found a few towns over in a bookstore.

There was still silence in the room when Y/N noticed Van sitting on a stool at the bar she had in her apartment. She put down her book and her tea, walking over to Van slowly. His fingertips slid the material of her robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground, right by his coat. She shuddered under his touch, the cool air colliding with her warm skin, goosebumps rising. His hands settled on her waist after the tips of his fingers followed the lace downwards. “Love…”

“What? You don’t like it?” She whispered back, her fingers drawing figure 8’s on his thigh. He looked into her eyes, shaking his head.

“I love them, baby, but you didn’t have to do this. What’re you all dressed up for?” He heard something that sounded like ‘you’ but she whispered it so quietly, one could barely tell. “You don’t need to dress up for me, love. You’ve already got my attention without all this.”

“I wanted our… first — well, my… first time to be special… I wanted to do something for you. You always do… those things for me… I felt like I should do something in return.” She pushed his legs apart farther than they were, walking in between them. Her lips went straight to his neck, leaving delicate kisses at first. When she became more comfortable, her body slouching into his touch, the kisses became more sloppy. All she wanted was to hear those beautiful sounds coming from him. It was somewhere between a squeak and a whine, but it sounded so mesmerizing falling from his lips.

“Love, if we’re gonna do this right, we’re gonna do this in the bedroom,” he grabbed her hands, leading her into the bedroom. He closed the door behind them, walking over to where she was standing by the vanity she had in her room. He pushed her hair away from her shoulder, soon replacing his hands with his lips. He turned her around, bringing their bodies to the edge of her bed. He sat down, waiting for Y/N to climb on.

She sat on his lap, tracing over every inch of his chest lightly. His hand stay placed on her thigh, rubbing it gently with his thumb. He could stare at her forever and not think of it as a waste of time. For she was his muse, the reason his songs usually contained love and happiness in them. He gazed into her eyes like there was nothing else to look at, like there was only her. “You’re so beautiful, baby. Even more than words can describe. I love this, trust me, I really do, but I think - at least for now - it would look better off.”

Strap by strap her clothing was removed. When she was fully naked, she sat on the bed, waiting for Van to finish. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his body. He was absolutely perfect, from the slant of his shoulders, to his hip bones, which stuck out a bit. Y/N didn’t understand how she could be with someone as amazing as him, but maybe she did. She held out her hands, a small, endearing smile on her face. He gladly accepted her hands, kneeling on the bed in front of her.

With their hands still holding one another’s, their lips reconnected. It was slow and wet, which was exactly what was needed. His lips were soft against hers, his tongue gliding against her bottom lip, but soon his lips slipped from hers, travelling towards the curvature of her jaw, following down her neck. He laid her down, his hands removing themselves from hers, finding their spot on her hips.

It felt like his hands were everywhere and they pretty much were. He wanted her to know how much he loved her. He went back to kissing her lips, his tongue running along her bottom lip again. His lips lazily dragged along every inch of her body, moans and soft curses falling from her lips. They slowly made their way down to the lowest part of her stomach, her eyes rolling back into her head out of frustration. She whined, “do something, please.”

“We’re not in any rush, love. Just let me explore you a bit.” His knuckles were grazing the inside of her thigh as he spoke, inching ever-so-slightly towards her heat. He kissed the top of her thigh, making his way towards her hip bones. He kissed the skin right above her core, as the knuckles on his hands grazing over her bare center. She gasped out, her hands finding their way to his hair. He smiled against her skin, teasing her as she tugged at his roots.

“Van, please. Do something.”

“Of course, love.” His face pulled away from her, as his hands replaced his face. Her moans were only loud enough for them to hear. His lips twitched to form a small smirk, before planting kisses on her neck. The pleasure coming from his mouth and his fingers were overwhelming, curse words left her mouth louder than the moans did. But his hands and his mouth detached from her, making Y/N whine.

“Lemme take care of you, okay?” He spoke softly, pushing hair out of her face, and she didn’t object. She nodded, pulling Van down on top of her. They giggled, their lips connecting once more. Van unwrapped the condom and slid it on, looking into her eyes afterwards. “You all good?”

“All good,” she whispered. He smiled at her, pressing his lips to her as he entered her. He wrapped her legs around his waist, waiting until she had given him the okay again. Their bodies molded together, his hands roaming all over her body. They fit together perfectly, the last two pieces of a puzzle falling into place. It was just as slow as their kiss - hips moving in a perfect rhythm, Van moaning into her ear as her nails raked down his back. “Agh fuck,”

They could feel it, they were so close. Beads of sweat littered both of their faces, their hands intertwined once again. Hips rocked into each other’s, hers more rapid. His breathing was irregular, his chest rising and falling quickly, almost as quickly as hers. She was already on her way to release from before, her hips reacting before she even knew what was happening. Her high washed over her like waves from the ocean. Quickly after, Van’s high washed over him as well, his hips still moving until he rode it out.

They laid next to each other, her hand reaching for his. Their fingers interlaced, Van’s hand bringing hers up to his lips. His kiss was soft against her warm skin. She smiled, unlocking their fingers, turning her body towards his. The confidence within herself grew with every touch, she didn’t mind being bare in front of him anymore. All her cares and worries were kissed away. His fingers pushed hair from her face. “You’re honestly so fucking beautiful. In every fucking way.”

“Thank you. For… everything. You’re an absolute dreamboat, McCann.” He kissed her nose, bringing the covers over them.

“Baby, trust me, that’s all you.” He turned on the television, letting the sounds of late night t.v. help guide them to sleep.

[vanmccantfish]

{dad van}

[vangoddamn]

Antheia

Y/n is a florist, van comes in regularly before going home, just randomly cause he fancies you eek🌼

"hey Cas, what you ringin for?" You asked wondering what it was this time and what gossip she was about to spill.

Y/n is a florist, van comes in regularly before going home, just randomly cause he fancies you eek🌼

"hey Cas, what you ringin for?" You asked wondering what it was this time and what gossip she was about to spill.

"woah...so a girl not allowed to call her best friend anymore?!" You could tell by the tone of her voice she was being sarcastic and she definitely would have the face on.

"no, I just know you and you have something to say" you let out a chuckle between the words, knowing her too well.

"well, fine but I guess you'll never know what it is" she sneered, but you didn't even have to try to get her to reveal all.

"Cass..."

"fine, so I was in town and guess who I saw?!" You heard her squeal down the phone, pulling the phone away quickly with shock.

"for god sakes, I'm gonna go deaf. Who did you see?"

"flower boy" the tone of her voice now was a mix between smug and complete amusement. Of course, you were shocked at the least if not from the out of the blue context but because most days you sat around in your little shop wondering if he’d pop in again. He hadn’t been in for months now, and you had been starting to think he’d not come in again.

“I think your visually impaired hun, he’s not been in for ages, he’s probably forgotten about my stupid lil shop anyway,” You tried to defend yourself, you didn’t even know why you needed defending, it wasn't even like you knew him.

He’d started coming in a year ago, just when you had been starting out. You could remember every visit he made to you over the year and had grown quite fond of his visits. He was the type of guy you’d never expect to see in a florist, but my god, you weren’t protesting to the rare event. Your mystery flower boy was tall, kind of lanky and had the sweetest crooked smile you’d. ever laid eyes on. He usually, wore black, but it definitely suited his aesthetic.

You had never learnt his name, although he knew yours, but that had never stopped you both from indulging in sweet conversation. His first visit he was particularly clueless, needing flowers for his mother ‘Mary’. You had guessed then, by the fact he told you all about his mum with no hesitation, that he loved his family. On particularly quiet days you and Cassy would sit coming up with stories for him and make up secret lives you thought he would live.

Sometimes he’d be some kind of James Bond character and whenever he was off duty he’d fly over from wherever fancy country he lived would visit home. And others he was just a humble guy with a soft spot for his mum. You never expected the true reality of this.

 There was a soft ring at the door, indicating a customer had just walked in. Smiling at Cassie's rambling of your flower boy you turned around to be shocked at the truth behind your best friends announcement. At your silence, she started bombarding you with questions before you hurriedly hung her up.

“Hey,” The boy grinned, his lazy smile making your stomach squirm with nerves and anticipation to the word you’d eventually have to use.

“You alright y/n?” He chuckled, walking up to the counter in which you currently stood behind.

“Um..Yeah aha- Haven’t seen you around here in a while that’s all.” You finally released the scramble of words in your head, feeling your cheeks show off your embarrassment.

“Oh yeah, sorry, me band, we were on tour.” He explained sincerely. “Didn't miss me did ya!” His. smile was infectious at the best of times and had now made you bite your lip, suppressing the truth that, yes actually you had missed him. You noted his confession, looking forward to tell Cassie of his profession.

“I don't even know your name, it’d be a bit weird if I missed ya wouldn't it?” You internally cringed at the words, processing how strange it really was that in fact you had missed his charming personality even though all encounters were always very short lived.

“It’s Van love, see now you can miss me.” he was cheeky and although he didn’t even say much, his words still made you fidget with nerves on the spot. 

“Van,” You said deadpan, turning the attention to him and his somewhat questionable name. In the space of what felt two minutes you had learnt more about him than you had over the year he'd kept popping in.

“Well, Ryan but-”

“So, Ryan,” You cut him off hastily, “What can I help you with, more flowers for Mary then?” 

“Actually no, I wanted too take you for dinner tonight.” He grinned with satisfaction, throwing me off once more.

“Oh,” Was the only reaction you could think of, completely flummoxed with his proposal. “Yeah?”

“Here,” He explained taking one of the cards that was on the counter and a pen, scribbling a number out before looking up at you. His eyes were pooling with hopefulness and practically made your heart melt. You were lost for words for a start, you couldn’t really reply unless you wanted to throw up a bunch of incomprehensible nonsense.

“Thanks, I’ll text you then!” You blurted out, watching as he leant forward, touching distance to your body, planting a sweet kiss to your cheek. It was simple and soft but managed to send shivers through every nerve of your body unable to process his actions. 

“See you soon y/n,” He whispered before turning and walking out of the shop, leaving you to slowly slide down the wall behind you as your knees grew weak and unsteady. 

“Shit.” you groaned, realising how awkward you had been, to the possible love of your life. You quickly grabbed the phone from above you, sitting back down and redialing Cassie’s number.

It only took a matter of seconds for her to pick up. Questioning almost every question under the sun, eventually letting explain the conversation you had just been apart of. 

[sounds-like-humpty-dumpty]

The Affair (Part 1)

Summary: y/n and Van meet for the first time at a party. Chemistry is instant and they find themselves spending the night together.

Ya'll this is filthy af, so read at your own risk, k? Smut smut smut. Van x Reader 1 of 3

Note: ok so I wrote this a while ago and wasn’t sure if I should publish this. But then I remebered that I also enjoy a bit of smut every now and then. So i decided I’m just gonna put these three parts out there, inwardly cringe a little and the move forward.

ok, that’s all. enjoy at your own risk.

----

The first time they met:

It was at a party. A friend of a friend of a friend or something. Y/N had no idea whose party it was, but she didn't really care either. All she knew was that Sebastian - Esther's new boyfriend - invited them. Esther was Y/N's flatmate and became one of her closest friends since living together for three years.

But back to how they first met, Van and Y/N. It was at this aforementioned party:

The party was held in a house somewhere in a fancy neighbourhood in North London. One could see it was fancy by the cars that were parked on the streets, everything from Land Rover SUVs to Porsches. But this also meant that whoever hosted the party had money; money that would be well spent on alcohol and snacks, which instantly guaranteed the party to be a full success.

When Y/N first entered the house and saw Van, her heart skipped a beat with excitement. She knew who he was, had heard of Catfish and the Bottlemen, and even went to one of their gigs once. He was standing and talking to a group of people a little aside of what was later to become the dance floor in the lounge. He wore all black and had a beer in his hand, smiling and nodding along to the conversation he held with the people. He didn't look like the rockstar she remembered on stage. He looked like a normal dude at a party and yet there was something mesmerising about his presence.

Y/N didn't arrive with Esther and Sebastian because her workplace had her working late, not that she minded. She loved her job. But it meant that she arrived at the party in a stranger's house without knowing where her friends were. The fact that Van McCann was at the same party didn't make things any easier. She just got more nervous. She tried to find her friends in the kitchen first, and while she was already there, poured herself some of the expensive-looking vodka and mixed it with O. Of course, they weren't in there. She never had been that lucky, so she made her way through the hallway and back towards the open-spaced lounge. The house was massive and she feared she wouldn't be able to find her friends at all.

She sipped on her drink and stepped around people, smiling when her eyes met theirs. She didn't have to search long though. Her eyes -which were automatically glancing in the direction of where they last spotted Van when she first entered the house- suddenly found the messy mop of Sebastian's honey blonde hair right next to the lead singer himself. He definitely hadn't been standing there before.

Y/N's heart began pounding rapidly. This meant Sebastian somehow knew Van. And it meant that if she went towards their group, she would be introduced to him and, maybe, the rest of the band. She gulped down half her cup of vodka and O and made her way to the group. Esther, who was standing next to Sebastian, squealed with joy when she saw Y/N coming their way. "You made it!" she hugged her close and pulled her into the circle of their group. "This is Y/N. The best flatmate anyone could share a flat with, I swear!" It seemed like Esther was already slightly intoxicated because she seemed way more excited about Y/N's arrival than it was necessary, making Y/N blush and take another sip from her cup before awkwardly replying "Hiya". The guys in their circle of conversation introduced themselves as Larry, Johnny Bond ("but Bondy is fine"), Van and Benji. They were discussing something Y/N had no idea about. She didn't mind though. This way she could muster them all a little closer. When her eyes landed on Van and remained on him for a little longer, his eyes met hers. She smiled shyly and he smiled back, instantly causing her smile to become wider. That's how their connection started and as the hours of the night progressed, so did the number of drinks that Y/N and Van were downing together. ...

She somehow managed to end up outside in the back garden, sharing a joint with Van. They had to do it in hiding because Y/N, bolder thanks to the booze in her system, had been pick-pocketing the joint from some drunk German dude who had been boasting about it prior. It was a miracle that no one had found them yet since they were unable to stop themselves from snickering and laughing while smoking some German guy's weed. When they finished their smoke, eyes glassy and slightly red-rimmed, and Y/N was about to make them get up and go back inside, Van decided to make his move: "wanna ditch the party and go back to mine?"

Y/N could feel herself blushing but she smiled knowingly, bit her lip in a flirty attempt and nodded coyly. So an Uber was called and a quick "bye" was exchanged with their friends.

Van's flat wasn't all that far away, it took them about 25 minutes till Van opened the front door to his one-bedroom flat. It was... minimalistic. It had the necessary furniture in it, some black and white prints, a couple of guitars leant against the wall, and a stereo with a turntable plus a tower of records next to it, but other than that it was completely devoid of any decorations. "It's... nice." Y/N grinned at Van, fully knowing he knew she was lying. "Yeah well, I'm gone most of the time anyway, innit? And when I get a coupl'a days off I'd rather spend them with me family up north, so this really is just for when the lads and I 'ave to be in London for work, see." Y/N grinned at his need to justify his crappy flat and instead of replying, placed her arms on his shoulders and around his neck. Van instantly relaxed into her suggestion and placed his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Y/N could have sworn he was able to feel her erratic heartbeat, but if he did, he didn't acknowledge it. He slowly moved his head down to hers and she closed the space by tilting her head up and letting her lips meet his. He had been chewing gum on their drive back and Y/N mentally kicked herself for not asking for one too. He still tasted minty but had spit it out into the bushes before they made their way up to his flat, so that she could taste a bit of him too. Their lips moved together like they were made for each other and when she felt his tongue grace her lips she broke the kiss and whispered "bedroom?" He ushered her into his bedroom which was just as bare as the rest of the flat. Instead of turning the big light on though, he went to the bedside table and turned on the little lamp while Y/N went back into the hallway to turn off the lights there. The bedroom was cast in a warm but dim light and Van began unbuttoning his shirt while kicking off his boots. He made it all the way to the first three buttons when Y/N stilled his hands by grabbing his wrists and pulling them away from his shirt. "Let me," she said and began to slowly unbutton them for him, revealing more and more of his chest hair and necklace, and then the little happy trail vanishing under the band of his boxers that were peaking out of his jeans. When she unbuttoned it all, she pushed the fabric off of his shoulders and marvelled at the sight in front of her. She was really going to have sex with Van fucking McCann. Van, however, wanted to see her out of her clothes too. So he took hold of the hem of her t-shirt and pushed it up, signalling her to lift her arms, which she did. One swift move and she was standing in front of him with her lacy black bra. She was so fucking glad she had shaved and put on her good undies this morning. Hoping something like this would happen, not knowing it would be with a rockstar.

Next were the pants, however both Van's and her's were tight so they both got out of them without help from the other, taking off their socks in the same movement, until they stood in front of each other in only their underwear. Van was looking her up and down which made Y/N a bit uncomfortable, so she stepped forward and pulled his head down with one of her hands on the back of his neck to kiss him. This way he wouldn't be able to ogle her and all her imperfections. He obviously took this as a sign to move things along and grabbed her waist to pull her hips flush against his. She could feel the bulge in his boxers and with the other hand, she reached down and stroked him through the fabric making him moan a little into her mouth. He sat down on the bed and took her with him so she was straddling him. She moved her hips into his, causing friction between their sexes, and provoking them both to breath heavily into each other's mouth.

"Fuck" she gasped as Van's hand reached into her panties and began to spread her wetness along her entrance. He hummed in satisfaction. His movements were slow but electrifying and Y/N tried to push herself onto his hand. He withdrew his hand however and moved her fully onto the bed and crawled above her. His golden necklace dangled in front of her face. She slung her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck and pulled him down, on top of her. His lips found her neck and began licking and sucking the skin there, making their way down to her collarbone and then to her breasts which were still covered by her bra. She noticed and arched her back so she could reach and unclasp it. One swift move and her breasts were free and available for Van to explore further. His lips kissed their way to her left nipple and she could feel his teeth scrape her skin. She moaned and arched her back into his touch. She wanted more; more Van, more touch, more of his skin on hers. She bucked her hips into his and tried to free his bum from his boxer. He got the hint and helped her push his underpants off. He leaned above her again then and opened the drawer of his bedside table to grab a condom. No ten seconds later he had opened it and pushed it over his erect penis. All the while Y/N had removed her panties in eagerness. Van positioned himself over her again but before he moved to push himself inside he asked: "are you ok?" Y/N smiled, glad he was making sure she was still on board, and then nodded. He pushed himself inside and she gasped at the sensation. He stayed like this for a couple of seconds, letting her adjust to him and then slowly moved halfway out and then back in. He went slow at first, letting them get a feel for each other.

When their breathing began to synchronise Van bucked his hips into her faster and faster. His pubes rubbed against her clit with every movement and she could feel herself building up. "Van" she moaned simply because she could. She clutched his back and Van's movements became even faster and more erratic, both their breathing picking up speed. "Fuck. Fuck yes, Van." she panted. He reached down and began rubbing her clit with his fingers while drawing in and out of her relentlessly. "Van! Shit, Van, I'm gonna cum" she screwed her eyes shut and moaned as she felt herself falling over the edge of her orgasm and convulse around him. The contracting muscles and moans of her orgasm were bringing him over the edge too. He came, thrusting a couple more times to milk both their orgasms. Stilling his movements and pulling out, he collapsed on the mattress next to her. After a couple of moments of silence in which they both tried to catch their breaths, he removed the condom and carelessly dropped it onto the floor next to bed.

They didn't say anything, the silence continued and she wasn't quite sure what to do. Should she stay or leave? How much longer should she wait till leaving? Did he expect her to leave now? She turned around on her side to face Van, who was still facing the ceiling. When he heard her shifting however, he moved his head to look at her. "I'd better be going, right?" She asked but didn't make any preparations to do so. Van turned his body to fully face her too and brushed a strand of hair from her face behind her ear. "You don't have to, I wouldn't mind if you stay. Maybe have a second and third round later?" Y/N couldn't hide the relieved smile crossing her lips and Van moved to pull the duvet, that was laying crumpled at the end of the bed, over their naked bodies. She snuggled herself into his arm that he had draped behind her head and placed her arm on his stomach and chest, feeling his chest hair between her fingers, ignoring the necklace that sat on his collarbone. It seemed too holy for her to touch.

Her heart was beating faster than ever, every fibre of her skin that was touching Van's seemed to be ten times more sensitive. She draped one leg over his and could feel his leg hair brushing against the skin of her inner thigh. They lay there like that for some time, not moving except Van stroking her back occasionally with the hand that was draped around her, and Y/N drawing patterns into his chest hair.

She must have fallen asleep because the next time she opened her eyes the room was dark and Van was lightly snoring next to her. For a second she thought about grabbing her clothes and leaving, making it less awkward for them in the morning. But the bed was warm and the thought of stumbling around in the dark room and potentially waking Van anyway kept her put. She carefully felt for Van's body. He was sleeping on his side, facing her, as her hand found his waist. She gently moved her hand upwards, feeling his arm, then shoulder until she reached the nape of his neck. That's when she heard him sigh in his sleep. She was careful not to move her hand and wake him, but it was too late as she felt him move beneath her touch. She felt his arm wrap around her torso, pulling her into his body. As he moved his head and nuzzled it into her neck, she could feel his hot breath on her skin. It gave her goosebumps and sparked new lust between her legs. When he lazily began kissing the skin of her neck, she removed the hand that was resting on his neck and moved it southwards. Down his back, over his shoulder blades, along the spine, over his buttocks, and then reached between their bodies to take him into her hand. She could feel him take a sharp inhale when she grabbed him and started to stroke him up and down, teasing his tip with her thumb. He was quickly getting hard and she moved to drape one leg over his hips, guiding his penis over her wetness. All the while Van's head was still nestled on the pillow close to her neck so she could feel his breathing change with pleasure. Needless to say that round two was much more gentle and slow, both of them being slowed down by darkness and their previous exhaustion.

In the morning, Y/N was woken by Van's hand caressing her waist. She was laying on her side, facing away from him and when she turned around to face Van, he was already gently and tiredly smiling at her. His hand found its way between her legs and she gasped when he found her clit with ease and started circling it with his finger. She scooted closer to him, wanting to be as close as possible. She began to move her hand towards his penis just to find it already erect. As soon as she grabbed it, Van slipped a finger inside her and a moan escaped her mouth. She lifted her upper leg to allow Van more access and to wrap it around him, but Van wouldn't have it, he pushed it away and in the same movement manoeuvred her to lie on her back. He climbed on top, ready to push himself inside when he suddenly realised that he was missing a condom, in fact, he remembered he was missing a condom during the second round in the night too. Y/N noticed him halting and looked up at him to find his face contorted with worry. "Everything ok?" she asked. "We didn't use a condom." Van breathed out and let himself fall face first into the mattress next to her (making sure his hips were facing sideways though, because that would have been painful). Y/N observed his discomfort and moved to lie on her side again, head propped up by her arm and elbow. She drew a random pattern on his back with her index finger and said: "I'm on birth control, and last time I went to the gynaecologist I got tested and came out negative. No STD's, no AIDS... If you are worried about that." Van moved his head to look at her. "You are not freaked out then?" He asked and after seeing that Y/N was completely calm, turned his whole body to face her again. She shrugged as good as she could in her position. "If you can promise me you don't have STD's or AIDS either, I'm not freaked out." She replied. Van shook his head, "No STD's that I'm aware off, have never been tested for AIDS though." Y/N trusted that he was telling the truth and leaned forward to press her lips onto his, signalling him that it was ok for them to continue without a condom.

For her, it didn't really feel any different without it, but for Van, it felt way more intense, the awareness of being inside her heightened. When he came and collapsed onto her, panting, he kissed her gently. He didn't pull out right away, instead, he savoured the moment, knowing that this was the last time.

They wouldn't see each other again. This was just a one night stand, although one of the best he ever had.

When he rolled off of her with a satisfied sigh and lay back on the mattress, facing the ceiling, eyes closed, Y/N took that as her cue to get going. She rolled out of bed, collected her clothes from the floor and vanished into the only door she hadn't entered yet in the hope it was the bathroom. She got dressed and tried to comb through her hair with her fingers. When she emerged from the bathroom fully clothed and entered back into the bedroom to get her shoes, Van was still lying in bed, duvet draped over his lower half, giving Y/N one last delicious view of his torso and upper body. He didn't stop her, just watched, as she sat on the edge of the bed to tie her shoes. When she was done and ready to leave, she stood up, faced Van and said: "Well then, was nice meeting you." She smiled slyly, knowing very well that the phrase was a massive understatement. Van's lips twitched into an amused smile as well as he answered "Likewise". Y/N turned around then and left the bedroom and seconds later the flat, as Van heard the front door open and close and steps vanishing down the staircase.

[greasyvan]

Sweets [A Van McCann Oneshot]

Rating: M. This is pretty much just pure smut lol

Word count: 5k

Request: nah

You swore as you crossed the threshold, struggling with the grocery bags you had hanging off your arms. Kicking the door shut behind you and blowing some loose strands of hair from your eyes, you shuffled into the kitchen.

“Jaff?” Van called from the couch, the top of his head peeking over the back. You smiled at each other as you dropped the groceries on the counter and rubbed your arms. They were red and indented from where the straps cut into your skin.

“Larry over at Kai’s?” You asked, unpacking the first bag. Larry and Kai had been dating

for the last eight months and he was smitten to say the least. He spent most of his time over at hers, “making up for lost time,” as he said. Van hummed and hauled himself off the couch, resting his guitar against it and coming over to help you unpack. He yawned, he’d just gotten back from a four month long tour around the world and was understandably exhausted.

“How was class?” Van asked as he pried open the refrigerator door and slid the strawberries into the drawer. You lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“Fine,” You rubbed your eyes and leaned against the counter, watching Van work. He was wearing his old “The Streets” sweatshirt, something he only did when he was at home. It was hard to get used to seeing Van not in a button up and boots. “Same old. What about you, write any new timeless classics today?” Van threw his head back and laughed, a happy sound that you missed when he was gone.

“Nothing yet Jaffa but the night is young,” He met your stare and you quickly looked away. “What?” You blushed, having been caught, and shrugged.

It’d been you, Van, and Larry since reception school. Your mom packed you two Jaffa Cakes for snack time and you offered the extra to Van. He’d called you “Jaffa” ever since and that set the foundations of your friendship. You remember getting carted around in the back of Larry’s mum’s car and holding Van’s hand as he read to you and Larry slept. Van asked you to prom and Larry took two dates. You’d watched Van transform from an awkward gangly weirdo with bad hair into a slightly less awkward filled out weirdo with kind of better hair. You’d been Catfish’s biggest cheerleader since Van formed the band. You made t-shirts with fabric paints and spray on glitter. You nixed more songs and lyrics of Van’s than you could keep track of. You fell in love with each new addition to the band. You cheered the band on from the sidelines while you grinded away at uni. You wished you could go on the road with the lads, mostly because you missed Van and Larry when they were gone but also because you got lonely. You thought that living alone for nine months out of the year in a huge apartment ten minutes from your school that you paid next to nothing for because Van insisted on paying your half of the rent would be fun. You were wrong. It sucked.

“Nothing,” You mumbled after realizing he was waiting for an answer. You fussed with a plastic bag and looked back to Van. “I bought Jaffa Cakes.” You held up the box to show him and he grinned.

“Again.” He scoffed and you rolled your eyes and slapped him in the arm. You eyed him and turned away, gathering your tote bags up and putting them under the sink. “Don’t be like that Jaf,” He pouted, and before you knew it he’d snatched the box from under your arm and was holding it above his head.

“Van!” You protested, getting close to him and reaching for the box. “Give ‘em!” He laughed and stood on his tip toes, keeping them further out of your reach. Your tongue poked out from between your lips and you braced a hand on his chest, jumping for the box. You gritted your teeth but you couldn’t stop a small smile from gracing your lips. He was so annoying.

“Ryan Evan Mccann.” You threatened, knowing how much he detested the use of his full name. His face dropped immediately as he scowled at you. “Give it back.”

His frown deepened. “Just for that, no.” He turned away from you and slid the package onto the highest shelf of the cupboard. You stomped your foot and whined, only serving in making Van laugh at your childish reaction.

You made grabby hands and huffed. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry.” You pouted. “Will you just... pass it back? Please?” You blinked your eyelashes up at him and made a puppy dog face. You could see his resolve crumble right before your eyes as he pretended to think about it.

“Fine,” He lowered the box slightly. “But give us a kiss first.” You knew he was joking but the request... it might’ve made your stomach flutter and you didn’t know why. You’d kissed Van before in primary school during recess and you both immediately jumped back, laughing and scraping at your tongues. You’d agreed to never do it again. You kissed him again a couple of more times as you grew, after prom, when he released his first single, and most recently, when you were both drunk and playing a childish game of truth or dare in the back of the tour bus. You hadn’t thought about kissing Van since then. Okay well maybe the idea passed through your mind a couple of times but you never went in depth with your fantasizing.

Because it was Van, your platonic best friend Van, and maybe you didn’t want things to be so platonic anymore.

You also saw this as a way to fuck with Van a little but that was less important. You stared at each other with stubborn, narrowed eyes and taunting smirks, both playing a game of chicken that neither were prepared to lose. So you took the bait, leaned up, and planted a fat, wet kiss on Van’s chapped lips. But instead of jumping back, or laughing, or any sort of action to lessen the tension, his wide palm found your hip and seemed to be pulling you into him.

And he smelled so good, comforting and warm and spicy. Before you were aware of what you were deepening the kiss, opening your mouth and letting his tongue run over yours. You could feel his eyelashes flutter shut against your cheek, your hand moved to the nape of his neck as you twisted the hair that was there around your fingers. The other hand cupped his jaw, thumb against his cheek as you leaned away just enough to capture his bottom lip between your teeth, pull back, and let it snap back into place. Van blinked at you, slow and heavy, before descending back onto your mouth with a renewed fervor. You pulled away and sponged kisses back along his cheek as he panted, his hand squeezing your hip and the hand that held the Jaffa’s came down to waist level. You licked a stripe along his jaw and he shuddered as you leaned into him, your teeth grazing his earlobe as you spoke.

“I want you to bend me over this counter and fuck me.” You felt Van tense and inhale a

gasp, and you saw your opportunity. You snatched the box from Van’s hand and bounded out of the kitchen with a shriek.

“Hey!” Van called and ran behind you, watching you disappear behind your bedroom door with a devilish grin. You listened to Van groan behind your locked door and you grinned with satisfaction. “C’mon Y/N you gotta be kiddin’ me!”

“That’s what you get Ryan!” You said with satisfaction and tossed the box on your bed and flopping down next to it. You were slightly breathless, mostly from running but also from kissing Van.

Kissing Van. The words felt foreign on your tongue.

It was Van. You rode on the pegs of his bike with your arms around his middle and his guitar strapped to your back. You shared smokes and music and he held your hair out of your eyes when you puked. You cuddled and rubbed his feet and washed his clothes and kept him and Larry fed.

You shouldn’t have liked it but you did. You liked how his lips felt against your lips. You liked the way his breathing sped with just a few pecks to the cheek. You liked the feeling of his pulse hammering under your palm. It was all so...good.

You fell asleep and dreamed of chocolate and oranges and smooth skin and chapped lips.

//

A few days later you were sitting at the bar with a couple of girls from your psych class doing shots of tequila in celebration of completing your exams. You licked the salt off the back of your hand and took the shot, your nose wrinkling in disgust. You hated tequila but this was your fourth shot of it in the last hour. You swayed in your bar stool and grabbed onto your friend Anna’s arm, laughing about nothing and everything. There was a little electric jukebox playing some old R&B that you were bopping along to. Other than your group of five friends there were probably only seven other people in the bar. You were sufficiently drunk and the bartender set a glass of water down in front of you followed by a shot of rum. You drank it. The room started to spin.

“Y/N,” Anna slurred, leaning onto you. “That guy is looking at you.” You followed her finger to where she was pointing. Leaning up against a pillar with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed in front of his chest was Van. You threw your arms in the air and called his name, shimmying out of the bar stool and wobbling as you landed on unstable legs and teetered over to Van. He met you halfway and you collapsed in his arms, trusting he’d catch you. He did. He held you to his chest and brushed some hair from your eyes.

“What’re you doin’ ‘ere?” You asked, blinking up at him blearily and smiling.

“You didn’t come home,” Van softly replied and smiled. At the moment you were more interested in his white cotton shirt and how it felt under your fingers. “Figured you’d be here. You’re usually home at five and we was gonna watch Guardians of The Galaxy.” Through your spinning mind you made sense of the words and cringed internally. You were supposed to pick up thai food and watch movies with Van all night, but you’d blown him off. You felt like a shitty friend.

“You’re not,” Van used his two fingers to angle your face up towards him, not realizing you’d voiced your thoughts. “I’m not bothered.” Your eyes filled with tears at the level of softness Van was treating you with. He usually did act this way when you were drunk but because you were so inebriated it tugged at your heart a little harder.

“Van,” You clutched his shirt in both hands and let your head fall forward into his chest. “You’re so good.” He chuckled and squeezed you a little tighter.

“Let’s get you home, Jaff,” He said and you nodded into his chest. With his arm around

your waist keeping you mostly upright, Van lead you back over to your friends who you said goodbye to and paid your tab despite your protests. When the two of you got outside he wrapped you up in your jacket and carried you bridal style to his car, depositing you in the passenger seat. Your head rolled forward as he buckled you in and he held your face in both hands.

“If you’re gonna throw up tell me, alright?” You nodded in his hands. “Alright.”

//

“Jaff.” You were disoriented and tried your hardest to open your eyes. You felt hands on your body, unbuckling your seatbelt and sliding under your thighs and behind your back, lifting you up into a sturdy chest. Your arms wrapped around a neck and you finally blinked your eyes open to see Van’s sturdy jaw. You moaned and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, trying to curl up into a ball which was impossible in his arms.

“Fuck, Jaff, you may be tiny but you’re heavy.” You giggled as he walked you into the building.

“Not small, you’re huge.” He laughed and readjusted you in his arms as you stepped into the elevator. “Okay Superman put me down.” He complied but kept his arms around you in a hug. You appreciated it. You appreciated everything about him. He walked you into the empty apartment.

“Larry?” You questioned into the quiet of the house.

“Kai’s.” You hummed and let him walk you to the bathroom

“Up,” He commanded, holding onto your hips. You jumped and he lifted you onto the counter next to the sink. His tongue poked out from between his lips as he cleaned your face with makeup wipes. You stared at him as he worked. He was... so beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before.

“Van.” You whispered, his eyes flicking up to your face. “You’re so pretty.” He chuckled and shook his head but you needed him to know just how you saw him. You reached up and held his face in your hands, dead serious now. “No Van, listen.” He licked his lips and nodded, encouraging you to continue. “Your eyelashes are like, super long,” You started to list. “And your eyes are so sparkly. You have such pretty lips and freckles on your nose.” Your thumbs brushed over his cheekbones, touching the little dots on his skin. “And I love you so much.” Van grabbed you by the wrists and pressed a kiss to your palm before dropping to his knees in front of you and untying your converse, tugging them off and dropping them to the tile floor.

“Let’s get you in bed.” You nodded and allowed him to deposit you in bed, on top of the covers. “I’ll be right back.” You whined but allowed him to untangle his limbs from you and disappear. You suddenly felt hot and you needed to not be hot. With a huff you unbuttoned your jeans and kicked them off, tugging your t-shirt and bra off and throwing it across your room. You spread your limbs out wide like a starfish in the middle of the bed with your eyes closed, comfy and cool, and waited for Van’s return.

“Okay painkillers, water, some crisps- Christ Y/N!” Van slapped his palm over his eyes and attempted to juggle the items in his hands. You giggled and sat up on your forearms. “Can you please put a shirt on.”

“Nope!” You chirped, filled with drunken energy suddenly. You sat up on your knees and threw your arms open, bare chested and giggly. Van sighed and moved his hand away from his face, keeping his eyes on his boots. He placed the items on the bedside table and started to move away.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“No!” You fell forward and grabbed Van’s arm, falling into his chest, his arm going to your waist. “Give us a cuddle, Van?” You pouted and blinked up at him. “Please?” You heard him groan and bite his lip.

“Five minutes. And put a shirt on.” You squealed and released him, stumbling out of bed and towards your dresser. You grabbed the first soft thing you touched out and pulled it over your head. Coincidentally it was an old shirt of Van’s that you’d stolen so much he gave up on trying to take it back. You pulled it over your head and turned back to Van. He toed off his boots and slid under the covers, patting the empty space for you. You flopped down next to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, nose brushing against the column of his throat. His body went rigid and you almost pulled back until he turned on his side, deepening the embrace. You inhaled his deep scent and sighed, his hand going from your shoulder to your lower back.

“Van, just, like, cuddle me.” He chuckled and locked his arms around you, becoming more sure of his movements. He was in awe that you could be so drunk and so bossy at the same time. You tightened your hold, your lips brushing against his exposed collarbone. His breathing stuttered and, testing your luck, you pressed a solid kiss against his skin. He made no sound so you continued, just brushing your lips over his expanse of skin, lips touching his jugular. His breathing was becoming ragged but he was holding you tight against him. You twisted the cotton of his shirt and tugged, popping a couple of his buttons open, exposing more skin, becoming more forceful with your kisses. You kissed a trail up his throat, continuing the sweet torture on him. His adam’s apple bobbed when you nipped at the skin of it, feeling his pulse beneath your lips.

And then you reached the junction of where his jaw and throat met, and without warning you puckered your lips, sucking at his skin. Van gasped, his fingers pressing into your back as you continued to suck dark marks into his flesh. Your hand ran down the curve of his spine as Van waited for you to finish, the only noises echoing around your room being his heavy pants and suckling sounds. You pulled back to admire your work and smiled at his skin, shimmering with your saliva and and red spots blossoming against his skin. You hummed with satisfaction and nuzzled back into Van’s neck.

“Mine,” you mumbled into his warm flesh. “Alllllll, mine.”  You felt his chin rest against the top of your head, his chest rising and falling quickly. Sleep took over almost immediately.

//

You stumbled into the kitchen the next morning, your head pounding despite the painkillers. Van was standing in just sweatpants in front of the stove, swearing as he attempted to scrape partially cooked pancakes out of a pan and onto a plate. You were mostly bare, just an old t-shirt of Van’s and some underwear. You didn’t remember getting home. You walked up behind Van and pinched the soft skin of his hip. He physically jumped away from you and cursed, holding his spatula up like a baseball bat.

“Jesus Christ it’s just me,” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up onto the counter, taking the plate of partially cooked pancakes and setting it on your naked thighs. Van mumbled something under his breath and became very interested in his pancakes. “Thanks for getting me home last night,” You said and pulled off a piece of pancake that was more cooked than the rest of it. “And taking my makeup off.” He glanced up at you and shook his head. Weird. Van wasn’t normally this grouchy in the morning. “What’s wrong?” He shot you a look and grabbed the plate off your thighs, sliding more burnt and partially cooked pancakes onto it. “Jeez what’s up your ass this morning?” He looked at you like you grew another head and sighed.

“Nothin’,” He shrugged. “I’m good.” It was your turn to shoot him a look.

“Clearly you’re not or you’d tell me what was wrong.”

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He was using your actual name. That wasn’t good. You must’ve drunkenly said or did something. You sighed and twisted on the counter, reaching into the overhead cabinets behind you and producing the box of Jaffa Cakes. You slid one out.

“Here,” You said, offering it to him. “Consider it a peace offering for whatever I did wrong.” The corners of his mouth twitched up as he stared at the cake between your fingers. He bit into it and allowed you to feed it to him. The tension seemed to be letting up until Van turned his head to the side and you saw a dark purple hickey. The metallic taste of jealousy filled your mouth for a moment until the night came back to you in fragmented shards. Arms carrying you home. Holding Van’s face in your hands. Heat waves and bare chests. Sucking and kissing and lips brushing his skin.

“Oh shit,” You panicked. That’s why he was pissed. “I did that, didn’t I?” His hand flew up to prod at the love bite while you shook your head. “Van I’m -- Fuck --You know what, let’s just, uh, forget this ever happened.” You slid out another cookie into your palm. “Take it, please,” He stared at you. “Fuck Van I’m-”

He lurched forward, cupping your face in both hands and smashing his chapped lips against yours. Your frame went rigid and your eyes flew open as he kissed you, the pancakes and cookies totally forgotten about. You were so stunned you felt like you couldn’t move. Van took your lack of movement as rejection and pulled away, scratching the back of his head.

“I don’t wanna forget about it.” His lips were pink and his pupils were blown wide. He looked, well you were gonna say it, your childhood best friend looked fucking hot. The things running through your head failed to form cohesive thoughts so you just gaped at him. He sighed and turned away, muttering “Nevermind,” under his breath.

“Van,” You called softly, that being the only thought you could fully form. When he didn’t turn around to look at you you called to him again. “Ryan Evan Mccann.” He spun on his heel and glared at you. Good. You jerked your chin up at him. “Do it again.” His brow dropped into a frown.

“Look Y/N if this is some kind of joke to you-” You rolled your eyes as he spoke and tugged your-well his-shirt over your head and dropped it to the ground, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes bulged wide as you took in the expanse of your chest, fully exposed to him.

“Oh so now you’ll look at my tits.” His eyes flicked back up to your grinning face. “Come ‘ere.” He nodded and took a step towards you. You placed the box of Jaffa Cakes on the counter beside you. He took another timid step towards you, inching his way along until he was in front of you. You parted your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth onto yours. Your ankles wrapped around his waist and his fingers held your hips, you pressed your naked chest into him as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Your teeth gnashed together and it was awkward with haste, but at the same time perfect. You didn’t realize how badly you wanted to kiss him, and now the floodgates were open and you didn’t think you could stop. Quickly it became frantic, with lips getting pulled between teeth and Van exacting his revenge onto the skin of your throat, yours hips grinding into his as you moaned. When you pulled away for a gasping breath and Van’s mouth went to your breasts, your fingers threading through his hair, you spoke.

“I meant what I said before,” He grunted as he took a nipple between his teeth, desiring an explanation. You hissed and let your head roll back. “Please fuck me.” He froze and retracted his mouth from your flesh, looking at you. “Yeah, I want that.” You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly and nodded but didn’t move. You rolled your eyes and reached between the two of you and into his sweatpants, gripping his steadily swelling length. He groaned and grabbed the counter in both hands, his forehead pressing against yours as he watched your hand move against his flesh. He bit his lip, your palm rolling over the top of his pink head. Your unoccupied hand went to the back of his neck, keeping him pressed to you.

“F-Fuck,” He stuttered, eyelashes fluttering shut as he bucked into your hand. His fingers went from gripping the granite counter to pulling your panties to the side and slipping knuckle deep into you, thumbing at the bundle of nerves. You moaned his name as he steadily worked his way inside of you, you doing the same to him. The amount of times you’d heard stories about how good he was with his hands were proven as fact. He had your legs shaking in less than a minute with how he manipulated his fingers against you.

“Stop,” You panted, gripping his wrist and releasing his shaft. His eyes were half open as they met yours, he looked completely fucked out, and you were sure you didn’t look any better. “Want you,” You breathed, slotting your lips back against his.

“What are we doin’, Jaff?” He asked into your mouth, not hesitating despite the apprehension in his voice. Your hand that still held his wrist was brought up to your mouth, your tongue tracing over his fingertips before getting taken into your mouth. His eyes bulged out of his skull as you sucked yourself off his fingers. “Fuck me,” He whispered as you released him and slid off the counter. With a shimmy you kicked your panties to the side and turned away from him, arching your back and bracing your hands on the counter.

“If you haven’t noticed Van, that’s what I’ve been tryin’ to do.” He chuckled earnestly and bit at his lip.

“‘M serious. I don’t wanna be just friends with you.” You turned back around to look at Van with a roll of your eyes.

“Yeah, I thought I made it obvious I didn’t want to either?” He smiled, warm and intimate despite the depravity of the situation at hand. “Now will you please, just, fuck me?” Another warm chuckle and he turned you back around,leaning over you and skimming the tip of his nose up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck raised as he planted a kiss on your right shoulder, biting down slightly on your flesh. You moaned. You could feel him fidget with his sweatpants for a moment and listened for the soft sound of them hitting the floor. Then his fingers were back inside you, working you open, his free hand splayed across your lower back. When he withdrew his fingers you whined, but the emptiness was quickly filled with him, pressing into you, stretching you so deliciously, making your knees go weak. He slowly pushed himself all the way in until your ass was pressed back against his hips and you’d draped yourself over the cool stone of the counter, unable to keep yourself upright. The draw back was even slower and you could feel every ridge, muscle, and vein of Van inside you and it was so intimate and felt so unbelievably good that your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Van,” You breathed and he hummed in response. “Harder.” He snapped his hips forward and you could feel him in your stomach. “Faster.” His palms went back to your hips to get a solid grip and he pounded into you so good that it felt like you were choking.

“Love,” He groaned, finding a steady pace that satisfied your needs and was something he could keep up with. “You’re squeezin’ me,” His voice was unlike how you’d ever heard it before and you could come just from that. “Fuck.” He released your hips and snaked one around your front and finding your nub, the other going to to your hair and pulling you up against him. You angled your head away from his face so he could lock his teeth onto your throat, rolling his fingers against your clit and hitting that spot inside you that made your back arch. You moaned his name like it was something holy. “Jaff I’m gonna-,” He grunted, slowing down considerably but rubbing your bundle of nerves faster.

“Yes, Van, fuck,” You turned your head over your shoulder and seeked his lips out with yours, your knees buckling. Van kept you upright as he finished you off, body going slack as his hips began to stutter. You could feel your orgasm shatter through your body, and it was so, so, so good you hardly even noticed Van coming deep inside you. He went to pull out but you wrapped your arm around him from behind, keeping him buried inside.

“Wait,” You gasped, not ready to be empty quite yet. Van nodded and kissed your throat, rubbing your tummy and just feeling you until you were ready to be released. You turned around and rested your back against the counter, watching him as he watched you.

“D’you mean it?” He asked, worrying the skin of his thumbs, a thing he often did when he was nervous. You looked down at the fluids running down the inside of your thighs and back to his face.

“You think I let any guy come in me?” His eyes went wide at your brashness, cheeks pinkened and a wispy chuckle left his throat. You punched his shoulder. “Nuh uh, I love you, Ryan.”

Van grinned at you with his crooked teeth, stepped forward, and planted a wet kiss on your lips. “I love you.”

You bent down and picked up his sweatpants, tossing them at his head. He caught them and you both redressed, just as you heard the front door unlock and Larry call out your names. He stopped when he saw you both in the kitchen exchanging guilty glances. He looked between the two of you for a moment.

“Did you two just fuck?” He didn’t even say it like a question though. Neither of you answered and Larry sighed. “Well it’s about time.” He kept walking into the house before calling over his shoulder, “Please just don’t fuck in the kitchen anymore. Highly unsanitary.”

[catfishandthebottlefan]

#11 - Heathrow

A/N - So I’ve been gone for a few days, because I’ve been writing this long fic! It’s over 5,000 words (sorry😂) I’m super proud of this one though, and I’m sure you’ll love it :) Enjoy reading it, and, if you enjoyed it, please leave a note for me so I know what to write more of or less of! ~ A x

Van had always loved you. Well, it was the first thing he’d said to you when you were in pre-school - despite Van being a few months older than you, at your primary school they mixed the first two classes - and you’d given him your cookie cutter to help him make his sculpture out of play-dough. Through primary school, you’d stayed friends, before drifting apart gradually in secondary school as you began to see him less and less. Everyday chats turned weekly, and you only saw each other when it was organised by your parents, such as at family barbecues or special birthdays. You never forgot about each other, however, and you’d often smile as a surprise “how r u, havent spoke in ages xx” would flash up on your phone when Van was away.

You were 16 when you had to call Van for the first time in a couple of weeks. You were stranded at Heathrow Airport after a terrorist incident, when someone attempted to detonate a bomb in Manchester. Your flight back from Spain (where your family were on holiday - you had to return early to be home in time for GCSE results day) had been diverted to Heathrow.

“Van,” you pleaded, tears falling down your face, “Where are you?”

“Hey, you ok? I’m at home, sleeping like every other sane person on the planet. Why?”

“It’s ok, don’t worry-” you choked back a sob.

“Y/N, Y/N, hey, why are you upset?” the concern in Van’s voice shone through, “Where are you?”

“I’m stranded at Heathrow, someone set off a bomb somewhere, I’m ok, I just don’t have enough money for a taxi home or a hotel room and I, I don’t know what to do-”

You heard a jingle of keys in the background. “Van, it’s too far, it’ll take you 4 hours to drive-”

“I’m not in a rush, are you?” Van replied, jokingly, as you heard the slam of a car door.

“Van, you don’t have to do this, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning-” you choked, as you sat, shivering on a bench outside Heathrow Airport.

“Hang tight, love, I’m coming to pick you up.” Van replied, reassuring you, “It’ll be okay.”

He hung the phone up, and you held it close to your chest, disappearing inside your hoodie. You didn’t know how to feel - happy you were being rescued, or guilty you’d had to ask Van to come pick you up. You didn’t have a lot of choice as none of your other friends could drive yet, but you still allowed a few tears to fall down your face as you thought of Van’s kindness.

It turned out there was no need to feel guilty. At 7:30am, you spotted the white Transit van come round the corner, The Streets blaring from the stereo. Van was, of course, in the driver’s seat, however, you were surprised to spot Larry sleeping in the seat closest to the passenger door. You leapt up off of the bench, wheeling your suitcase over to the van. Van jumped out of the driver’s side and wrapped you in his arms. He threw your suitcase into the back, which was filled with guitars, amps and other music equipment, and hustled you quickly into the middle seat of the van.

“Y/N?” Larry muttered groggily, as you wriggled past him into your seat.

“Thank you guys so much.” you smiled, pulling your knees closer to your chest under your hoodie.

“No need, I know you’d have done the same.” Van placed his left hand on your knee, “You’re freezing, babe!”

“I’m okay,” you smiled, leaning into Larry, “Thank you guys so much.”

“It’s fine!” Van replied, cheerily. Then, more sincerely, he told you, “I’m here, whenever you need me.”

Van gently put his hand on your thigh as he pulled out of the drop-off bay, and you felt a slight shiver travel up your spine. You told yourself not to be ridiculous, he was just a friend. As Van drove you home, you began to fall more and more in love with him - it was like you’d never been apart for all those weeks when life had come between your relationship. No, not a relationship, you told yourself. It was just a friendship.

Little did you know, he was telling himself the same thing.

-

You hadn’t heard from Van for after that summer. Stemming from him driving you home that  August morning, you had begun to meet up more and more. You would sit in the park together for days on end, then, at night, you would get smoke joints in the playground and get drunk by the duck pond. This led to blurred, yet fond memories of Van pushing Larry into the pond, and drunk Bob, who was always a laugh. Yet, once you started sixth form, you studied hard for your A-levels, and life began to push you and Van apart again. He left to tour with the band, who were still relatively unsuccessful, but you always admired his optimism. You kept in contact via calls and texts, always just as friends, but you slowly drifted further and further apart, just like the space between calls. You got into Oxford, to do a degree in Astrophysics, while Van was still living at home, or was on the road with the band, living off a pasty and a joint a day. Your parents - who had now divorced - expected you to have forgotten about him, and your uni mates knew nothing about him, but you still longed for his company, and would sit up late at night, contemplating calling him. Once again, little did you know, he was doing the same thing.

You were twenty-one when your professor broke the news that you were one of the few students he believed was capable of giving a talk to thousands of younger aspiring scientists as part of a education programme.

“Like a TED talk, only for teenagers.” he had told you.

You were eager to take part, until you realised the large scale of the project. You had to speak for half an hour, non-stop, about the same subject you were writing about in your dissertation - yours being a division of Nuclear and Particle Space Physics. Worst of all, it was situated in a theatre in the west end of London - as if you didn’t need to feel even more inferior. You had six months to prepare your speech and background slides, and you threw yourself into it.

The project became a welcome distraction from your life at the moment, as, that December, your mother was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer. You didn’t tell anybody, not even your housemates, instead filling your emptiness inside with uni work, taking on every project or extra credit assignment you could. Your grades prospered, and you quickly became a straight-A student in every assessment. You somehow managed to balance this with the gut-wrenching visits home every weekend, to see your mum. Everyone admired your tenacity and effort with your work, and some people even became jealous of your success, yet they didn’t know the emotional turmoil going on inside your head, as your mother became sicker and sicker.

What you failed to consider was how quickly news spread in Llandudno, and, only minutes after you were told your mum was in the hospice, your phone lit up with a call from Van. You declined the call at first, as you got in your car, ready to make your final 3 and a half hour drive to Llandudno. Once your mother passed away, you had no further plans of returning. There was nothing left for you there.

But, then again, there was Van.

As his call lit up your screen once more, you connected your phone to your car’s Bluetooth system, and answered the phone.

“Y/N!” Van’s voice boomed through your speakers.

Quickly, you turned the volume down, forgetting how loudly you had The National playing on your last journey back to Oxford from seeing your mum. You had taken to turning it up as loudly as you could on your way back from visiting, to drown out your sobs.

“Y/N,” Van almost whispered, “I had no idea, I’m, I’m so sorry-“

“Van.” you said, his name almost croaky in your throat as you say it for the first time in years, “It’s not your fault.” “I should have called earlier, I just, I don’t know, I just didn’t want to think about ya. I’ve been missing you.”

You pulled over into a lay-by. If you were going to have an emotional conversation, you did not want to risk crashing the car over it.

“Van,” you mumbled, “I’ve missed you too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, I just-“ his voice trailed off, “I want to see you.”

You sniff, holding back tears, “Well today might be your lucky day. I’m two hours away.”

“Hardly very lucky though, what with your mum-“ he checked himself, “I wish this wasn’t, I don’t know, I wish the circumstance wasn’t as bad.”

“That’s just life, innit.” you sniffed, trying to force yourself to smile, “How’s things with you?”

You started your car again as Van began to tell you about Catfish, and how they’re on the cusp of getting a deal, and how well they’re getting on.

“People know us, Y/N, it’s mad. They say stuff to us like, put that one on the album, or don’t bother with that one, it’s shit. It’s mental.”

You spoke to Van for most of the drive, until you got to Wrexham.

“My phone’s dying, love, I need to go,” he said, sadly, “Where can I meet you? Mine?”

“What do you mean?” you replied, “You’re home?”

“I am now I know you need me.”

-

You spent two days by your mother’s bedside as she slowly passed away. You had been preparing for this for months, but there was one eventuality that you hadn’t prepared for, and that was a new kind of relationship with Van.

After your mum passed on, you had every intention of returning to Oxford, but Mary and Bernie insisted upon you staying at the B&B. You lived there for two months after obtaining special permission from uni, and you spent nearly every waking hour with Van. It soon became every sleeping hour as well, because it would be nighttime when the grief would suffocate you. Van held you in his arms, and it felt as if he was gently squeezing the broken parts of your heart back together. In the daytime and evenings, you would follow Van around to gigs, and you realised he was right about Catfish - they really were becoming popular, and the band who once played covers in bars were now getting their own following, and recognition for the songs Van spent countless hours writing in his bedroom.

You didn’t know initially, but you became his muse. One day, Van went out to rehearse at Benji’s, and you stayed home, catching up on some lectures you’d asked your friends to video for you. However, after two hours studying, your mind began to wander, and your eyes were drawn to a leather-bound notebook on Van’s dresser. Against your better judgement, you opened the book, to find some half-finished lyrics and songs which Van hadn’t played to you yet. This was unusual; he’d played nearly every song he’d written to you in the time you’d been staying with him. You read the unfinished lyrics carefully.

“Love her from the get-go/pick her up from Heathrow/whenever she needs me” - was this about that time when you were 16 and he drove for hours to come and get you?

“I wanna make it my business, I wanna make you my problem” - was this about how you had told him not to worry about you, and you’d deal with your grief yourself?

You engrossed yourself in the fragments of songs written in the notebook. You knew some, such as Cocoon - which Van had played to you before - were about ex-girlfriends. However, it was the ones you hadn’t heard before which intrigued you the most - a couple of songs called ASA and Collide. You only twigged his romantic feelings for you after you turned the page to see your name written with love hearts around it, paired with doodles of what looked like you. Stood next to doodles of him. Your name and his, written in a heart, then crossed out, then rewritten another ten times.

Your heart plummeted, and then did somersaults. Did Van feel the same way as you did? You traced his handwriting of your name with your index finger, engrossed in the way his pen must’ve danced across the page, broadcasting his thoughts to the outside world. Well, not the outside world, as this notebook was Van’s. Private. You sighed, feeling guilty, and snapped the book shut.

As you turned around to gently place the notebook back where you found it, you noticed a figure out of the corner of your eye. Oh, shit. It was Van.

“Oh my God, Van,” you stuttered, “I’m so sorry, I knew it was private, I shouldn’t have looked, I-“

“Y/N,” Van replied, calmly, “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I promise.”

“Is it true?” you asked, quietly, “The things you write in here, are they true?”

“Depends what things you’re talking about.”

“Love her from the get-go? Pick her up from Heathrow?” you questioned, “Are they about me?”

Van blushed bright red, and took a step towards you.

“It’s true.” he confirmed.

You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his waist, and he pulled your head into his chest. You inhaled deeply - Van always smelled nice.

“I love you too.” you mumbled into his jumper.

He responded simply by stroking the top of your head.

The next few weeks were spent exchanging stolen glances, and secret kisses when nobody was looking. Cuddling him a little closer in bed. A cheeky hand up your top when you lay together. Your hand on his thigh when driving around to gigs.

It wasn’t long before people started noticing, however. Larry was one of the first to twig, when he caught you and Van sharing the same cigarette on the balcony, snuggled under Van’s jacket together as the typically Welsh rain bounced off the pavements. Obviously, he told Benji, Bob, and Billy, and the news then spread like wildfire around the town, despite Van’s quiet threats of “chucking you in that fucking pond again, you little prick”. Van’s parents claimed to have known since you moved in, however you suspected it was old Mrs Perry next door who told them.

You liked being Van’s girl. He would get oddly protective of you, not letting you walk alone at night, making sure you had a jacket if it was raining. He would look you in the eye every once in a while at gigs, and wink at you. Whenever you were feeling down about your mum, he’d hold you in his arms and the world would seem to be a less cold and cruel place. He loved when you wore certain outfits, and he would let you wear his favourite jeans and hoodies that he didn’t even let Larry borrow. He’d learn the guitar chords of your favourite songs, just so he could play them to you.

He was the perfect boyfriend, and you dreaded having to go back to uni and leave him.

-

“So where even is Oxford Uni?” Van asked, getting into the passenger side of your car, “Somewhere down south?”

“Yes, Van, it’s in Oxfordshire. Above London, but below Birmingham.” you repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time.

He reached over to kiss the tear which raced down your cheek as you pulled out of his parents’ driveway. You glanced in your rear-view mirror to see Mary and Bernie waving enthusiastically, looking as proud as your own mother did when you drove off to Oxford for the first time.

“They’re just happy because they can say I went to Oxford.” he chuckled, in an attempt to cheer you up. You didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, baby.” he said, tenderly, “We’ll be okay. I love you.”

“I know, I just feel, I don’t know-“ you sniffed, trying to suppress the lump in your throat, “I feel guilty for taking you away from everything like this.”

“C’mon, Y/N, we talked about this,” Van sighed, “I’m only staying until after your speech thingy, and if I don’t like it, I can go back, and I’ll visit you every weekend and all that jazz. Stop stressing, please, babe.”

You simply nodded your head as you pulled out onto the main road. Van fiddled with the stereo.

“This is a lot newer than the one in my van,” he said, his tongue poking out in concentration, “How do you get the radio?”

You pressed a few buttons on the steering wheel, shaking your head. “You won’t get a signal. Here, try a CD.”

Van put in your Arctic Monkeys Whatever People Say I Am That's What I’m Not CD.

“Still think our demos are better.” he quipped, as The View from the Afternoon began to play.

“You’re gonna struggle being away from the band for all this time.” you sighed, sadly.

“I’ve got me guitar and notebook!” he replied, cheerily enough, “What more could I need?”

“Uh, your bassist, lead guitar and drummer?” you joked back to him.

As you drove back through North Powys, Van fell asleep, and you felt a warm sensation in your heart. Although your world as you knew it had crumbled in the past few months, you had Van. He was all you needed.

-

You were right about Oxford - Van hated it. He hated being away from the band, he hated the lack of underage drinking and antisocial behaviour, he hated the accent. But he loved you, and that was what made him stay. He slept in your bed in halls, much to the disgust of your flatmates, who made it clear that they didn’t consider him good enough for you.

“I mean, him?” Natalie said, her nose wrinkling, “What does he do?”

“What’s his haircut all about?” Molly jeered.

You tried your best to persuade them to be on Van’s side. “I told you, he’s in a band! They’re really good as well! And I love his hair!”

Although they never said anything to his face, Van knew your roommates didn’t like him. He had unspeakable nicknames for them as well, and he’d loudly use them on the phone to Larry every evening. Despite him claiming he was happy here, as long as you were together, you knew he missed being on the road with the band. University life was too structured for Van, too organised. The only part he liked was the student parties which would happen every Friday night, but he even wasn’t the same when drunk, without his buddies. There was no hilarious banter, no casual arson, no recreational drug use. Well, there was weed, but you knew Van and the boys liked something a bit stronger on some of those heavier nights.

However, partying aside, the most important part was the fact that you were prepared for your speech, which took place two weeks after you and Van moved back to Oxford. He sat right at the front of the theatre, looking somewhat out of place next to the clean-cut parents, professors, and other downright nerds that had come along to support the speakers. Despite his clear misplacement amongst the scholars, Van was the best supporter in the whole theatre, and he cheered the loudest for you after your speech, which went perfectly, due to all the hard work and preparation you’d put in. You didn’t bother telling him that it wasn’t a football match or a concert, and it really didn’t matter how loudly you clapped, as you were so grateful for his support.

Van also made an effort with your friends, telling them how good their speeches were. Sophie and Julian quickly made friends with Van after he tried his best to express an interest in their joint speech on Advanced Quantum Mechanics. They seemed slightly surprised that he was in a band.

“So, what do you do?” asked Julian, politely.

“Me? I’m the lead singer of a class band,” he replied, happy someone was finally striking up a conversation with him, “We’re right on the cusp of getting signed, me and me mates can’t believe it, we’ve grafted so long for it.”

“You’re in a band! That’s so cool!” Sophie smiled, “So is that like, your uni hobby? What degree are you doing?”

“Degree?” Van laughed, “I got kicked out of school at 15! I’m in the band, like, that’s me job!”

“Oh, wow!” Julian smiled, “Like Noel Gallagher?”

“Nah, I’m like a shit version of Mike Skinner,” he chuckled, “We’re called Catfish and the Bottlemen. You should check us out, we’re more popular up North than down here though.”

Your friends nodded enthusiastically, and you and Van turned around to head back to halls.

He sighed. “Y/N, I do really miss the band.”

Your heart sunk. You knew Van wouldn’t last long in Oxford, but you didn’t quite want to believe he wasn’t happy here. You loved being with him all the time, but also being at uni. Part of you wanted to ignore the fact he wasn’t happy, and keep him here until your degree was finished, however, you knew that would be like keeping an eagle inside a cage. Van was the type of person to get cabin fever; he liked to be on the road all the time, waking up in a different place every day. He needed to spread his wings and fly - he hated the normality and routine of uni.

“Stay till the holidays?” you pleaded, as you walked back to the flat.

“When’s that?” Van replied, deep in thought.

“Middle of June, just another month? Please, Van?” you almost begged.

“I’ll try my best, it’s just, the band need me and I miss Larry and I hate this tiny flat and doing the same thing every day and the people and-“

“Van, just stop.” you sighed, exasperated, “Before you say something you regret.”

You entered the flat with an atmosphere between you that could be cut with a knife. You headed to bed, and you heard Van going into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. You tried to snuggle under the duvet, but you could never sleep without him by your side, so you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. You knew when you came back that Van would have to go home, but you desperately didn’t want him to.

About 5 minutes later, you saw Van coming into the bedroom, and quickly closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. You sensed him taking off his jeans and shirt, and the bed moved under his weight as he got in beside you. Usually, when he wrapped his arms around your waist, you would wriggle closer to him, but, tonight you rolled over and faced the other way. You heard him sigh, and although your heart was breaking and you longed to be held, your anger and sadness at the fact he was leaving meant that you couldn’t bring yourself to be close to him.

You slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning, having nightmares about Van breaking up with you because you didn’t allow him to go home and do what he loved. The guilt ate you up inside, and you found yourself snuggled into his chest by 3am. He stroked your back and kissed the top of your head, whispering to you that he’d stay if you needed him to. However, you told him he needed to go back - he needed to be happy. You remember falling asleep with tears running down your cheeks and into Van’s chest.

-

The next morning, you woke up to Van sat at the end of your bed, strumming a few chords on the guitar.

“What’re you playing?” you croaked, pulling yourself up.

“Just sorting out the rhythm for one of the new songs.” he replied softy, not looking up from the guitar.

“Van, I was thinking-“

“Yeah?”

“I’m thinking you should go back today.” you said, seriously, “I’ll help you pack your things, and I’ll drive you home this afternoon.”

Van set the guitar down on the carpet, and paused for a moment. “I don’t want you driving me home, love, you’ve got your finals in a few weeks and I don’t want you missing out on study time.”

“I don’t mind, Van, I really don’t-“

“Y/N,” he took your hand, “I love you so much, but, please, I can get the fucking train, okay?”

You nodded, as he disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a cup of tea in your favourite mug. You smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, okay, but I’ll phone you every night, I promise.” he told you.

“Every night, even when you’re playing gigs and touring, like a rockstar?” You meant for this to sound jokey, but it came out as bitter and resentful.

“Y/N, I said I promised, okay?” Van snapped.

You placed the tea down on your bedside table and started taking Van’s clothes out of your wardrobe and putting them in his suitcase.

“Y/N, it doesn’t have to be like this-“

“Like what? We always said you would leave after my speech, it’s the next day, so it’s time for you to go back.”

“I meant, you know, between us,” he continued, his voice getting louder, “I’m not breaking up with you! I’m just going back home, where I belong. I don’t fit in here, not one bit!”

“I know, I know.” you said, softly, “I’m sorry, I know you have to go, I’m being selfish. It’s like when you find a mouse as a kid and you keep it in a box under your bed and your mum tries to tell you to put it back outside, because it’s an animal and it needs to be free, but you don’t want to because you quite liked its company and-“

“Shh,” Van stroked your back as you choked back the tears, “After finals, you can come up and live with us for the summer, you’ll graduate, you can get a job, we’ll get a flat, it’ll be fine.”

“A little cottage by the sea?” you sniffed.

“If that’s what you want,” he replied, “I’ll always be on the end of the phone, whenever you need me.”

-

Van left, and, after you waved until the whole train had disappeared from your sight, you got in your car, turned up The National, and sobbed as hard as you did when your mum passed away. A month passed, during which you called Van every morning and evening, and texted him throughout the day, whenever you weren’t studying. You did manage to get through finals, after having worked your socks off.

Van had informed you on the phone that he’d been touring with Catfish, and they were getting so close to being signed. They had been called a few times by various record labels and were starting to get big, playing proper gigs of their own. You were ecstatic for him, albeit jealous that you were stuck studying while he was on the road. Your mind cast back to fond memories of being 16, driving around with no real destination, although Van assured you that touring at age 21 was very different.

Finally, the 18th of June arrived, and you packed your bags into your car and followed many of the cars, mostly driven by parents, out of Oxford and began your journey back up to Llandudno. You had been stopped at traffic lights for about thirty seconds when you noticed something shiny on your dashboard. It was a CD, and you instantly recognised Van’s scrawled handwriting on the front of the disc.

Listen to this and think of me, Van xxx

You smiled as you put the disc into your car’s stereo, and ASA - a song Van would play to you on many evenings when you were studying - started playing through the speakers. What made it extra special was the fact that he’d written it about you.

The four hours and eighteen minutes it took to get to Abbey House B&B were the longest of your life. You cursed every red light and traffic jam, and drove at the speed limit wherever you could. You just wanted to be in Van’s arms.

You didn’t even bother to park your car straight in the B&B’s carpark, just dumping it between two spaces. You grabbed the flowers you’d brought for Mary and the beers for Bernie, and inhaled sharply, bracing yourself for seeing Van. Your heart both fluttered and pounded at the same time as you marched towards the front door, your black Vans (you hadn’t put them on because they were Van’s namesake - they were your favourite shoes to drive in) pounding the tarmac. No sooner had you rung the bell than you were enveloped in Van’s arms - he lifted you up and held you close into his chest. The second he put you down, he kissed your lips passionately.

“Van, stop, you’re crushing the stuff-“ you giggled, between kisses.

“Where’s my present?” he complained, childishly.

You pointed to your handbag.

“Later.” you whispered, and he grinned. That would shut him up for a while.

“Y/N, love, it’s so good to see you!” Mary greeted you enthusiastically from behind Van in the doorway.

You handed her the flowers and her face lit up, as she handed them to Bernie to put in a vase. She hugged you almost as tightly as Van, and you breathed in the soft scent of her washing powder. Bernie greeted you with a firm handshake and a smile, and you handed him the beers, much to his approval. Van and his family felt like home.

Many hugs were exchanged that evening - between you and Van, you and Mary, you and Bernie, or Van and his parents. You initially sat having a beer with Van while his parents attended to the guests, however they later joined you for a glass of wine and a catch-up.

Mary and Bernie went up to bed at about half ten, so you and Van made the kitchen your zone, where you set up some music from your phone. You put your favourite Spotify playlist on shuffle as Van backed you up against a cabinet and kissed you with an undying passion. His hand up your top, your hand around his waist, lost in the moment. That was until Lemonworld by The National began to play. You went to hit skip, as this song reminded you of coming home from visiting your mum, and then all the feelings hit at once. What were you doing back in Llandudno, the town in which your mother died, drinking, snogging your childhood best friend, having fun? You shouldn’t be here.

You pulled away from the kiss.

“What’s up, baby?” Van whispered huskily.

“I can’t, this song-“

“Shhh.” he put a finger to your lips, and pulled you up so you were stood upright. He tipped your head up with his index finger, so you were looking him in the eye.

“Can I have this dance?” he asked, sincerely.

You nodded, as you followed his step around the large kitchen, being careful not to knock over any utensils or ornaments, in order not to wake the guests. The dance ended with sloppy kisses down your neck, and a heart full of love rather than sadness.

At around midnight, the lads joined you, Larry, of course, bringing the weed. He was accompanied by Benji and Bob.

“Where’s Billy?” you asked, concerned.

“Oh, he left the band for ‘personal reasons’ a few weeks back,” Van said between taking drags of the joint, “I didn’t tell you because I thought he was talking shite, but he’s gone.”

“Oh.” you replied, quite shocked.

“But we’re getting a new guitarist!” Benji announced.

“His name’s John and he’s a Geordie,” Bob told you, “A class guitarist, and a great lad, according to me cousin that is.”

You nodded in approval, as you settled into Van’s lap. As you smoked and drank, you felt yourself and Van rising higher and higher within your own, untouchable bubble. This was what you’d been waiting for all these months.

You don’t quite remember the boys going home, but they must have, as you and Van woke up in his bed in a quiet house. You went downstairs to read a note left by Mary.

Gone to IKEA with Dad for some new furniture for room 3, back at about 4pm xxx

“Looks like we’ve got the house to ourselves for a couple of hours, McCann.” you called, seductively.

“Sounds good,” Van appeared behind you wearing nothing but his jeans, “But there’s something I have to show you first.”

You followed him back into the bedroom, and climbed back into the warm bed. Van sat on the end of the bed, and picked up the acoustic guitar which often laid strewn on his bedroom floor.

“This song’s called Heathrow.”

He strummed the guitar gently a few times before singing the first lyric.

Love her from the get-go

Pick her up from Heathrow

Whenever she needs me

Watch her on the West End

Pepper up her best friends

Whenever she needs me

She was a different league

When I was nothing much

Meet her when the tour's up

Hug her like her Mother would

Whenever she needs me

Snog her in the kitchen

Dance with her to Lemonworld

Whenever she needs me

She was a different league

When I was nothing much

You found yourself in tears by the end of the song. You threw your arms around Van’s shoulders, and kissed his bare neck.

“You like it?” he asked.

“I love it. And you.”

[you-andthebottlemen]

53 - Request: OVERLAP song fic

So to celebrate the fact I am seeing Catfish tomorrow ahhhhhhhh!!!!! An Overlap fic!!!!!!!

Based on these requests:

From @chestinfect-me

YES! AN OVERLAP FIC PLEASE😭😭😭❤❤❤❤

From @cinnamonmouse8

Idk if you've already done this but maybe a cute little fic where the reader is at home just chilling, maybe like washing up or something and she's blasting Catfish's new album and singing along very offkey and muddling up words but then Van walks in and he thinks it's the cutest, maybe? Such a fan of ur fics either way ❤️

Thank you so much @chestinfect-me for your support! I recognise your URL from waaaay back. Thanks so much for sticking around. I love you and also your icon. Also a big thank you to @cinnamonmouse8 who has been a massive supporter of my writing recently and really inspired me to get back into it! I hope you both like this fic and how I have incorporated/interpreted the requests! Also hope it’s not too confusing lol. It’s a looong one and I’m not really sure how I feel about it.....Aaaanyway. Enjoy!!!!

E x 

***************************

Your relationship with Van was brief in the scheme of things but that didn’t make it any less serious. You fell fast and hard and your heart broke in two when you had to go your separate ways. You were in love, but things just weren’t working with his lifestyle and yours combined. Same old story really. It was devastating for you both, but you knew that at the time it was the right thing to part ways. You just weren’t meant to be. Time passed and things managed to heal. You dated other people and so did he, your time together started to become history. Neither of you harboured resentment, it was mutual. You stayed in touch here and there but nothing serious. You moved on.

Though as if you were two magnets with the widest of electromagnetic fields, you and Van always managed to find your way back to each other in the end. Every time you thought it was going to be a goodbye, it never was. Your paths crossed and your lives overlapped in more ways than one.

First time since the breakup –

A chance happening, a string pulled by the universe. The odds that you and Van were walking down the same street, at the same time in opposite directions were next to none. But it happened anyway. The look of recognition dawning on both your faces after a few seconds as your eyes met when you passed each other by. Awkward hugs and smiles of disbelief.

“How’ve you been?”

“Yeah good, you?”

“Yeah, fine thanks. How’s the band going?”

And a promise to call that was never fulfilled.

Your cousin’s engagement party –

Van McCann and Larry Lau; the guests no one thought would show. Old school friends of your cousin, they were invited out of chance. But they were there. They bounced through the door, life of the party anywhere they went. People enveloped them into hugs and burst into smiles like nothing you’d ever seen. They were hardly ever home these days; had to sell their cottage in Chester and everything you’d been told. Van made his way to you of course, having no trouble at all pulling you away from the rigmarole of such events. The rest of the party disappeared and so did the time that had escaped between you. You and he caught up like old friends and it was good, warm and right. You lingered at the back of the party in the shadows under the glowing fairy lights, talking and sharing stories of how life had been. You had time to take each other in and evaluate how time had changed you both; it hadn’t much. You thought about bringing up the past, talking about where it went wrong. But you and Van laughed as if nothing bad had ever happened between you and you didn’t want to ruin that. The party went on, you caught up with Larry too. You ate, danced, drank and all the while Van made sure to keep your champagne glass topped up, then got you back home safely in a taxi when the night came to a close.

The wedding –

You somehow ended up bridesmaid, your dress was far too pink for your liking and with too many frills. When you walked up the aisle, bouquet in hand, you couldn’t help but picture your own wedding; if you’d ever have one. As you did so, your eyes fell on Van who was sat in the middle with his mother. You could see even from there that his suit wasn’t pressed, and his tie was a little skew-whiff. Your stomach rippled with a feeling you weren’t sure of and he smiled as you passed him. You looked away. At the reception, once again, Van found you and things began to pick up where they’d left off. It all came easily. Van complemented your dress, you spoke with Mary and you introduced Van to your new boyfriend. Both of you acted like none of this was weird at all. It was just life. Your life.

…………..

One meeting in particular changed things. You had found yourself back home in the small town you wanted nothing more to do with. Reasons for being there aside, the universe wanted you there and wanted Van there too.

You’d escaped your dreary house for some air and were sat inside a shelter similar to that at a bus stop. It stood right on the edge of the beach where the pebbles started and led down to the water. From here you had a view out across the whole straight, flat shoreline. It was windy as hell; your hair blew around your face and you were too zoned out to hold it down or fix it. The sky was grey and so was the water, mirroring how you felt. Down and out. Life was taking its toll.

Staring out into the choppy, angry ocean, you hardly noticed as a figure sat beside you. People walked their dogs along the promenade here all the time, so company wasn’t unusual. But when the person reached a long arm out around your shoulders, you turned and saw that it was Van McCann, of all people. You leant into his touch without a thought and he pulled you close.

You didn’t have the mental capacity to wonder or ask why he was there or how he’d found you.

“You alright, love?” he asked, you didn’t reply.

You didn’t want to tell him about your sick aunt or your job that was desperately close to falling apart or the end to yet another relationship and he didn’t make you. He just took your cold, shaking hands in his own to warm them up and told you ridiculous stories from tour until you cracked a smile. Once he’d cheered you up a little, you both walked along the promenade past all the beach front hotels that were shut up for the winter. You shared memories from growing up and agreed that it was strange to be back there together.

Van walked you home and hugged you tight at the door.

“Are we like, friends now?” you asked softly as you pulled away.

All your run in’s with Van over the last year had left you at somewhat of a no man’s land. You weren’t sure if you were friends yet, but you weren’t just acquaintances either. You didn’t know what to make of it.

You reached out to smooth the thin gold necklace against his chest that had become wonky after your embrace.

“Yeah, y/n. We’re friends,” he replied. Then kissed you on the forehead and guided you inside with an arm around your waist.

…………

Eventually Van was settled, he seemed to have found a place. Maybe an Airbnb you weren’t sure. But he was near enough to you that you could meet up for drinks and whatever else. You grew closer, seeing each other a couple of times when he was off tour and things worked out with both your schedules.

The local pub was buzzing with energy. You could hear all the noise from your small flat above. When you came down, people were sat in crowded groups for a quiz, other’s more low-key up at the bar, some were huddled playing pool. You sat in a corner on a small, sticky sofa waiting for Van. You alternated between scrolling through pointless apps on your phone, sipping your drink and glancing at the door for the tall, skinny legged boy you were waiting for.

Finally, he moseyed through the door and plonked himself down beside you.

“Sorry I’m late,” Van said as he leant to kiss your cheek hello. “Phone’s fucked again too.”

“It’s fine, here. You’re gonna have to catch me up I’ve gotten through two of these,” you said as you pushed him a beer bottle across the coffee table. Beer table? He grinned, up for the challenge.

A night of thoughtless drinking ensued. Quickly, you and Van were slurring your words and getting a little closer than friends should. You sat tucked beside Van on the grimy sofa with your bare legs stretched out across his lap and his hands draped over them, rubbing soft circles on your skin with his thumb.

“Do you ever think about like, us?” he asked nonchalantly. He tipped his head back a little and the sharp line of his jaw became more pronounced.

“You mean when we dated?”

Van nodded. You rested your head down on his shoulder with a sigh. Your brain was too fuzzy to be talking about this.

“Why?”

“Did we fuck up by ending it?” he questioned.

His voice sounded strange and cloudy. You could feel his body tense beneath you and you knew he meant this more as a statement, despite putting it out there as a question.

“Don’t know. But hey, we’re here now,” you tried to sooth and steer the topic away from something so serious. You were friend’s now; you didn’t want to ruin that.  You didn’t want to lose him again.

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving in his seat and bundling you tighter in his lap.

“And we are drunk as all fuck,” you laughed.

“It’s pretty sound hey?” he smiled, giving in to your attempt at lightening the mood. You nodded happily, scrunching up your face at him a little.

Van suddenly stood, lifting you up like a bride and you squealed and threw your arms around his neck.

“I’m not gonna drop ya’ love,” he chuckled, sensing your fear

“Are you sure?” you whispered into his neck.

“I’ve got you y/n, always.”

………..

Going out and getting drunk with Van became somewhat of a routine when he was home. Same place, same time, same amount of fucked. He’d go from his place, to work, to yours almost on a loop. ‘Yours’ being the pub. Another thing that became a habit, was Van bringing up your past. You were both intoxicated every time and you’d almost always end up just laughing about it. Though you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something serious behind his words. You never talked about it sober; that topic was strictly reserved for drunk Van and drunk y/n.

A few months since the last time, you found yourself once again in the local with Van. The only thing different this time, was that Larry and Bondy had joined you.

“So, what’s happening up in The Toon?” you asked Bondy, mocking his Geordie accent.

“Nothing much,” he shrugged, sipping his lager and ignoring your bait. “Went to a good gig at The Cluny the other week though.” he added, referring to a small gig venue he was always at when back home in Newcastle.

“Anything new with you?” Bondy asked. You crinkled your eyebrows to think, then shook your head no in response.

“You sure?” he questioned, nodding his head towards Van’s arm that hung over your shoulders.

“We’re just friends,” you answered quickly.

“Riiiight,” Larry chimed in sarcastically as he came over with a tray of drinks.

You and Van shifted together uncomfortably. He removed his arm and this small act made your stomach twist. Bondy and Larry exchanged a look.

Later on in the night, Van escaped outside for a smoke while the other two played pool. Having no interest in the game, you took Larry’s jacket and followed him out into the cold night. He was stood outside the pub just by the door, his back leant against the bricks.

“You’ll dirty your coat,” you told him, as you leant beside him.

“You’ll dirty Larry’s,” he countered.

“Touché.”

Van smoked in silence, the noise from inside the pub was muffled and the only other sound was the occasional car driving past. You weren’t really sure what was going on. Neither of you were as drunk as usual and things didn’t feel as fun, alcohol aside.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, crossing your arms and turning to face him.

Van dropped his cigarette and squished it under his boot with a sigh. He swatted a moth out of his face, and you let out an exhale in place of a laugh.

“Yeah. I mean…I dunno’ I just have stuff on my mind.”

Van ran a hand through his hair then shoved it into his pocket. Seeing him like this made you uneasy. You didn’t like being serious with Van. Deciding against questioning him further, you stayed quiet and gave him space to think and continue when he was ready.

“I know we talk about it and joke about it when we’re fucked. But I just can’t get it out my head,” he began, pulling away from the wall and sounding frustrated with himself.

Your heart lurched. No, Van, stop. Please.

“Have you really not thought about it? Trying again?” he questioned, his eyes snapping to yours pleadingly.

You had thought about it, but not seriously. You’d tried once and it didn’t work; you’d accepted that. You were friend’s now and that was going just fine. The idea of being in a relationship with Van again, unearthing all the things you once felt, seemed like the scariest thing in the world.

Van’s eyes stared intensely into your own, waiting for a response of some sort. You didn’t know what to say. He looked anxious. When you didn’t reply his eyes began to dart around your face desperately trying to read your blank expression.

“Do you want to be with me y/n?”

The words fell from his mouth quietly and you reeled.

“I- I can’t decide all this now. Not in one night,” you replied, leaning further back into the wall and shutting your eyes to calm yourself. Your mind was racing a million miles an hour.

Van sighed and moved closer to place a warm hand on your cheek.

“Take all the time you need y/n, you know I’ll follow your lead.”

Van led you back inside without another world, telling himself that you’d be together eventually if your path’s kept crossing like they had been. He had no doubt about it.

………

You hadn’t spoken to Van much after the conversation outside the pub. He’d left for tour once again and you’d gotten a new job that kept you busy. You were happier in this one too and the pay was better. This meant that in the three months Van had spent away, he returned home to find you in the midst of moving.

He’d called you just before his flight, saying he needed to talk once he was back. He sounded serious, like he had that night he asked you to be with him. You knew he wanted to work it out once and for all. Your body filled with anxiety yet again, but you agreed to meet in the pub downstairs at lunch time two days after he got back.

You were sweaty haired and stressed out by the time it was midday and you had to go see Van. There were boxes littered around the tiny flat, your possessions spread out across the floor and some boxes in the stair well that you’d managed to drag out. You honestly didn’t know how you’d accumulated so much stuff. After taking a final glance at your not so pleasant reflection in the mirror, you thought fuck it. Van wouldn’t care how you looked anyway.

He was sitting on the sofa in the back corner, your usual spot. Dressed in his usual black skinny jeans and black denim jacket. God, you really were both such creatures of habit. His mouth twisted into a smile when he saw you and he stood to hug you hello. He pulled away leaving his hands rested on your shoulders.

“You alright?” he asked, confused at the state of you.

“Yeah, packing. Moving,” you shrugged as he looked you up and down. “Gotta be out tomorrow morning.”

Van nodded and let his arms drop.

“I can help, if you want?” he offered.

“Sure. Thanks,” you smiled. “But first, what did you wanna talk about?” You knew full well what he wanted to talk about, but you acted ignorant in hopes of putting it off for as long as possible.

“Oh, yeah,” he shook his head as if he’d forgotten. “You know what? Doesn’t matter, just wanted to see ya. How about we go get on with those boxes?”

Van followed you up the stairs to your place. It was strange that he’d somehow never been up there before after the countless nights you’d spent together downstairs. Would the pub still be your meeting place once you moved?

He glanced around the room curiously, eyeing the boxes already packed and the possessions that still lay strewn about the place.

“You weren’t kiddin’ when you said small,” he commented.

The ‘flat’ you rented was a single room with a small kitchen, dining table, bed and shelves all in the one space with a tiny bathroom set off to the side in what may as well have been a cupboard. It was simple but it had worked.

“Yeah, well not all of us have rock star pay checks,” you teased, and Van stared back at you unamused.

“Right. Well I’m currently packing all my books, clothes, whatever. If you could like, pull apart the table and chairs that would be incredible.”

Van nodded and slid out of his jacket. He threw it down on top of a box and pushed up his sleeves before turning to the dining table. You could tell he was a little confused about where to start and what to do but you just watched as he pottered about. It was cute. His face quickly turned to a look of concentration as he sorted through the tool box you had beside it. He began to take out the screws in a chair bit by bit. It was only Ikea stuff so not too difficult.

Something about seeing him be so...domestic…caused memories of your relationship to resurface. Things that you’d not thought about in a long time, that were as good as buried in your mind, suddenly floated to the top.

Stunned at your own thoughts, you quickly shook yourself and moved to the corner where you had your phone plugged into the speakers on the floor. You clicked play on your spotify and looked over to Van who smiled once he heard the music start.

You and Van spent the next couple of hours singing and dancing while loading up boxes with possessions and bits of disassembled furniture. Goofing around together was fun and your worries seemed to fade away. And it was good to hear his singing voice again. Something you used to love was how he’d sing around the house or in the shower, or just specially to you. It was something that always made you felt comforted.

The packing was almost done and you both began to drag boxes outside and downstairs ready to be packed into your car. God knows how that was going to work either. You and Van were absolutely exhausted.

“How about I get us some drinks?” Van offered, leaning down with his hands on his knees to get his breath back.

“I love that idea. Bring them upstairs?”

Van nodded and you turned to go back up. You still had to pack the kitchen crockery in bubble wrap. You laughed to yourself as you heard Homesick playing from the speaker as you walked back through your door. Spotify must have gotten to the Catfish section of your songs list. You’d not listened to Catfish in ages; you had no reason to. It was kind of weird to listen to your ex’s band? But you’d forgotten how good they were and how catchy the songs were too. You began to throw yourself around not dissimilarly to how Van would, singing along to his lyrics as well.  

By the time Van came back carrying a tray of cold, icy ciders you were swaying your hips to the beat of Cocoon and singing along loudly as you rolled a mug up in bubble wrap, unaware that he had returned and was staring at you from the doorway.

“Well, that’s the cutest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen,” Van grinned once the song had finished, making you jump with fright.

“Jesus…lucky I didn’t drop that,” you hissed and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

He looked at the mug and cringed before mouthing ‘sorry’. Van placed the tray down on the kitchen bench then handed you a cider.

“And not to be ‘that guy’ but you were singin’ the words wrong,” he laughed, his voice laced with smugness.

“Well sorrrryyy, bit out of practice. Been a while since I’ve been to a show, see,” you teased with an eye roll.

“You should come to the next one we have around here, I’ll put you on the list.”

Silence fell between you and Van as you gulped down your drinks, refreshed by the coldness of the liquid after your hard work. You met Van’s gaze and he held eye contact for a little too long. He placed his drink down and leant against the counter.

“Look y/n, I was goin’ to say it before but chickened out. I know I said I’ll wait, but it’s killin’ me. I need to know. Will you be with me?”

Van’s sudden admission floored you. Your eyes opened wide and your jaw dropped slightly. You must have looked as though you’d just seen a ghost.

“I don’t know Van,” you whispered. His face fell.

He took the cider glass from your hand putting it with his and stood close to you, placing a hand on your waist. You wriggled out of his grip and crumpled down to the floor with your back against the cupboard beneath the sink. You sat with your knees to your chest, like a child.

You knew, deep down, that your feelings for Van were there. That they’d laid dormant for a long time. If you’d never seen him again after your breakup, you could have gone your whole life without ever thinking of them. But you hadn’t; yours and Van’s lives kept overlapping and you were brought together again and again. Apart from that having to mean something, it awoke the feelings for him that you’d forgotten and then desperately tried to ignore.

“I don’t know,” you repeated.

Van fell to his knees in front of you and placed both hands on your legs.

“What do I do, y/n?” he pleaded, looking broken.

You wanted to be with Van, you did. In that moment you decided you did, theoretically. But this was not a fantasy. This was real life. The life that had driven you apart before. The life that had become so hard to deal with apart from each other for months on end. How could it work when you’d tried before and knew you were doomed to fail? You didn’t want to be heartbroken over Van McCann yet again.

You didn’t altogether understand his feelings for you either. Why and how had he so suddenly gone from being your friend, to wanting you back so desperately he’d beg? All of these thoughts and questions scared you.

“You need to leave Van,” you said suddenly, pushing him away.

Van’s face contorted into an expression of pain and confusion. He tried to pull you close again but when you wouldn’t budge, he stood up and went to take his coat. You felt sick to the stomach and couldn’t look at him, you knew you were being cruel.

“Call me if you change your mind,” he said solemnly before disappearing out your door, letting it slam behind him.

You threw yourself down on your bed that was now a mattress on the floor and let out an ocean of tears. What the fuck were you doing. You were so angry with yourself and you genuinely didn’t know what to do. Torn between hiding from potential heartbreak or just saying ‘fuck it’ and giving in.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you finished off the last bits of packing. You were staying with a friend for a few days until you could move into the new place. At least that was one thing sorted. Next, you returned the glasses and half-drunk ciders to the pub, sticking around to chat with the bartenders for a bit.

But of course, the distractions weren’t working. Back in your room, you sat down on your bed legs crossed and lip nervously bitten between your teeth. Your phone lay on the duvet at your feet and you stared at it for a long time. You weren’t sure how long; could have been minutes, could have been hours. ‘Call me if you change your mind’, Van had said. The problem was that you couldn’t make it up in the first place. With a rough groan, you pushed the phone away and flopped down onto your back, throwing your hands over your face.

After a moment, you picked up your phone and clicked back into spotify. Van’s voice echoed out of the speakers once again, hitting you right in the chest. What if he had been right when he’d said that maybe you’d fucked up by ending things? What if it worked this time? You had a home and a stable job now. He was used to his lifestyle, he’d grown up. Things were different, as much as you tried to tell yourself they weren’t.

Your mind tracked over the last year, to all the moments where you and Van had been pulled back together. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt right and you’d always known it. No matter where you were or who you were with, Van was what lay at the bottom of it all. Whether that was getting you home safely after one too many, shaking hands with your shitty ex-boyfriend when he shouldn’t have had to, or being your rock in a time of need. Not to mention all the drinks and laughs in between.

You loved Van. You didn’t want to be without him.

In a blind panic and rush of urgency, you grabbed your phone once again and shakily stopped the music before finding Van’s contact and pressing ‘call’. Your heart was beating rapidly and your skin began to turn clammy. Your breath caught in your throat more and more with each passing dial tone.

“Y/n?”

You froze. This should have been the simplest of calls, but you had no idea where to begin.

“I…”

“I know,” he said softly. You let out a deep breath and rested your forehead in your hand. Tears began to spill from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry Van,” you cried into the phone. “I want you. And I need you, I wish I hadn’t ruined things.”

“You haven’t y/n. You haven’t at all,” he soothed.

Your heart rate began to slow at his words and Van let you calm down before he said anything else.

“I’m so fucking glad you called,” he admitted once you’d stopped crying. He sounded as relieved as you felt.  

“Me too,” you whispered. You wish you could hold him right now, bury your face in his chest. Kiss him.

There were a few moments of silence between you. Neither of you were ever that good at talking on the phone anyway.

“God, it really does take us to the eleventh hour doesn’t it?” Van laughed in a tone of frustrated disbelief.

“Are you quoting the Bible?!”

“What? Just mean last minute…somethin’ Dad says.”

You chuckled and nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see. Your mind was in a dizzy haze from feeling too many different things at once. After listening to each other’s breath down the phone for a few seconds, Van spoke, his tone back to its usual bounce.

“Well shall I come over then? Get them boxes in the car?”