#campbell bain fanfic

[kisses-from-crows]

Crossed Wires - Campbell Bain - Ch. 7

Pairing: Radio Host!Campbell Bain/Popstar!femReader

Summary: Campbell and Y/N reach a truce.

Genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, modern au, reader insert, forced proximity, misunderstandings, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 9,179

Warnings: Swearing, Mental Illness, Alcohol Consumption

Chapter 7: For The Record

Beginning | Previous | Next (TBD)

PopCrave: Fans speculate that Campbell Bain might be involved in F/N L/N’s rumored comeback album. Amateur sleuths have begun scouring through his recent broadcast for clues about the upcoming project.

Posted: 3 hours ago

Campbell's foot tapped anxiously as he fidgeted with the glass of whisky in his hand. The liquid swirled around in the glass like the contents of his stomach. Y/N lifted the glass to her lips and suppressed a grimace at the taste. Silence stretched out between them for miles.

Campbell had called a ceasefire after their ‘little’ spat but the urge to lash out crawled beneath his skin like a colony of ants. All desperate to reach the surface. Tempting him to take the pain and urgency he felt and level the earth out in front of him. It mixed with the guilt in his gut about coping with alcohol. He could see Eddie’s disapproving face, now three years sober, in his mind. He wasn’t proud of it.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N broke the silence hesitantly. She paused, as one might while traversing a minefield. When no explosion occurred, she pushed forward. “I shouldn’t have brought it up like that, I wasn’t thinking.” A genuine apology. Twice now. Odd.

Campbell swallowed the urge to tell her to take her apology and shove it. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she meant well. He simply nodded, not trusting his voice to maintain the tentative peace they had created. She began playing with the rings on her fingers, fidgeting with them nervously.

Desperate for an outlet, Campbell plucked one of the rings from the table carefully, her eyes watching him intently as he began to twirl it between his fingers. The sensation of the movement was soothing, there was no denying that.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Y/N’s mouth. Without a word, she handed him another ring, giving them each two. Campbell nodded appreciatively, happy to have a distraction from the thoughts threatening to drag him down to the depths.

His mind went relatively blank as he focused on the small objects in his hands. Without thinking he slipped a ring onto his finger; it slid over his middle knuckle easily. Campbell attempted to pull it off, only to discover it was firmly stuck on his hand. His eyes widened as he frantically attempted to yank the ring from his middle finger. Y/N looked up at his wild movements curiously.

“Stupid bloody thing won’t fucking come off” Campbell was now hopping around the kitchen as if that was going to help the situation. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at his ridiculous motions. He stopped his hopping and shot her a glare. “Yae think this is funny, yae witch?” Though it was hard to look intimidating while trying to pull a much too small ring off his fingers.

“A little bit yeah.” Y/N mused, grateful for a break in the tension. “Here, stop that, just stand still.” She stood up and walked across the room to him, holding out a hand. “Let me help you.” Campbell eyed her with suspicion. But she waited patiently till he willingly placed his hand in hers.

Campbell reluctantly gave her his hand, ignoring the fluttery new feelings that joined the complicated mix of emotions he was trying and failing to manage. Y/N attempted to twist the ring off as gently as possible, but it wouldn’t budge. She frowned as Campbell whined about his finger.

“Campbell,” Y/N gripped his hand a little tighter as she spoke gently, in the same tone the dentist uses when they say something was only going to pinch. Which is almost always a lie.

“Yeah?” Campbell asked softly. She looked up at him, still holding his now slightly red hand.

His eyes got caught in hers and for a moment he forgot where he was. Forgot about the ring, forgot about the fight, forgot about who they were.

“I’ve got some bad news” A sly smile slid into place. Campbell could barely hear a word she said as his mind went wandering off without him. Lost in a little bubble of a universe that only consisted of the two of them. “We’re gonna have to cut your finger off.” Y/N deadpanned. And the bubble popped.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Campbell frowned but didn’t pull his hand back. It sat undisturbed and unacknowledged in her grasp.

“Do you have any lotion? I’ll have the ring off in a second” Campbell’s frown deepened as she dropped his hand in search of something to get the damn ring off. Y/N went wandering off in a direction she assumed led to the bathroom.

“Oi, where are yae going? Have yae no sense of boundaries?” Campbell called after her. Yet, he did nothing to stop her. Y/N scampered back happily with an old bottle of lotion. It was lavender-scented, likely another Christmas gift from Rosalie. One of those box sets that came with a matching antibacterial hand soap. In a minute they managed to wrench the ring from Campbell’s finger.

The anger over their argument that was pounding against his head had mostly subsided now. Maybe, he was ready to talk about it. Silence hung between them once more as they both mulled over what to say next.

“I really want to apologi-“ “Maybe I was a bit hars-“ They both spoke at once, before pausing and laughing awkwardly.

“It wasn’t really my pla-“ “How long were you in-“ They interrupted each other once more.

“You go first.” Y/N smiled nervously, failing to hide the guilty look in her eyes.

“Why don’t we sit on the couch.” Campbell offered.

“Good idea.” They sat as far apart from each other as they possibly could on the old thrifted love seat Campbell had forced Eddie to help him drag up the stairs when he first moved here. He had more than enough money to buy a better one. But Campbell had a hard time letting go of things.

Campbell took a sip of his drink, readying himself to traverse the dangerous territory laid out in front of him. Y/N sat next to him as stiff as a board, looking as uncomfortable as he felt. He opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to find the right words to say.

“How long did they keep you?” Campbell asked suddenly, deciding it was better to bite the bullet and face the consequences later. That philosophy had served him decently well so far.

“Pardon?” Y/N asked, pulling herself out of her spiral of thought.

“How long were you in the hospital for?” Campbell asked, staring at a stain on the carpet that was either spaghetti sauce or blood from one of his several failed handstand attempts.

Y/N sucked in a breath. Seeking to steel her nerves, she attempted to down the entire glass of whisky in one go. Only to gag and come up sputtering.

“Oh, good god, they make it look so much easier in movies.” Y/N lamented, desperate to get the taste of liquor out of her mouth. “That is truly disgusting.”

Campbell couldn’t help but laugh at her plight but sprung up to find a remedy anyway. He snatched the now half-empty bag of marshmallows from the table and tossed it to her without a warning. The bag smacked her upside the head before falling into her lap, a few marshmallows scattering onto the floor. Y/N glared at him as menacingly as she could. But the crooked smile that threatened to take over betrayed the manufactured malice in her eyes.

“You have terrible aim,” Y/N said, shoving an unholy number of marshmallows in her mouth.

“How do yae know what I was aiming for?” Campbell replied cheekily. He launched himself over the back of the couch and landed gracelessly next to her. The springs on the groaned in protest as Y/N shrieked in surprise. She glared at him again, cheeks puffed out angrily.

“I have to say, it’s rather hard to look intimidating with yer cheeks stuffed with marshmallows, but yae are pulling it off beautifully.” Campbell teased as he popped a few in his mouth. Y/N stuck her tongue out as far as she could without spewing half-chewed marshmallows everywhere.

“2 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days.” Y/N said after a few moments of them munching on mallows in a neutral silence.

“What?” Campbell asked.

“That’s how long I was hospitalized for.” She laid out the information between them like a peace offering. An attempt to make the gap in knowledge between them slightly more equal. But even in this small show of bravery, she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

“Ah,” He replied. That was a good long while. She didn’t look any more comfortable than she had been when she first walked in the door. “How about this, for every question I ask yae, yae get to ask me one.” He offered his own little peace offering. “I’m pretty much an open book, ask me anything yae like.”

Y/N fiddled with her fingers for a moment, considering his proposition. Before sticking out her hand to Campbell for him to shake.

“You have a deal.” She said, with an unnecessarily serious look on her face. Campbell shook her hand roughly.

“Do yer worst.” He said with an impish smile. Her eyebrows pinched together as she thought over her question. Best to start simple.

“Why did you move away from Glasgow?”

“Aye, that’s an easy one, yer not even trying! Why no ask about my dark and tortured past, oh wait.” Campbell couldn’t stop himself from taking a small jab at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Just answer the question, Campbell.”

“Fine,” Campbell whined, drawing out the syllables. Of all the fears he had while proposing this game, it being boring was not one of them. “I came to the States to be a DJ. To get a job at a station that reached a lot further than the ones in Glasgow. Just moving on up in my career really.”

“Don’t you ever miss your fam-?” Y/N attempted to follow up before Campbell interjected.

“Ah ah ah, it’s my turn now. Thems the rules we agreed on. Shook on it and everything” Campbell quickly steered away from the topic of his family. He wiggled his fingers to emphasize the significance of their handshake and hoped Y/N couldn’t see how close she had stepped to a land mine.

“Fine, fine, continue the interroga- I mean interview.” Y/N lifted up her hands in mock surrender. Campbell tapped a finger on his chin, pretending to think about what he next question would be. But he already knew. It had been nagging him for almost a year now.

“Why did you and Roger break up?” Campbell asked the question, picking at some marshmallow stuck beneath his nails with feigned disinterest. As though there was no personal stake in it. Which there wasn’t. Obviously.

Y/N let out a humorless laugh. She stood up and walked to the kitchen, refilling her glass with a scrunch of her nose.

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?” She said, sipping from her glass.

“We’ve got the time, haven’t we?” He said, insatiably curious. His mind swirled with every possibility. But the piece that nagged him, pulling at his pant leg like a small child with a burning question. Why did seeing Campbell and Y/N together make Rodger so mad?

“I suppose we do.” Y/N drawled out, stretching her arms above her head with a groan. A clear attempt to stall but Campbell didn’t mind. He liked the view from the couch. The hem of her wool sweater rose up ever so slightly.

It was a dangerous game he was playing, letting his mind wander. But he never did have the common sense to maintain a healthy amount of fear.

“Alright then, you’ll get both.” Y/N perched on top of the kitchen table, crossing one leg over the other. “Short answer: he’s a scumbag.” As Y/N hissed out the words she enunciated her point with a wave of her glass, raising it in the air as a mock toast to his douchebaggery.

“Well, I coulda told yae that ages ago.” Campbell said, hanging over the back of the couch, watching her movements with a level of interest he would never admit out loud.

“Did I ask for your opinion, Bain?” Y/N drew out his last name slowly and deliberately like she was sharpening a knife. Her tone was low and serious, but the twinkle in her eyes and the playful smirk on her face betrayed her. It was all a game.

Campbell hopped over the back of the couch and strode over to her. His heart sped up with each step he took. Just a step too close for comfort, he stopped.

“Nae, but yer in my house, drinking my whiskey so yer going to hear it anyway.” He ducked his head down and spoke close to her ear, voice as low and even as he could manage. If she wanted to play games, that was just fine. Campbell was quite good at playing pretend. Y/N could try to get under his skin all she wanted, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. He heard her breath hitch in her throat, but she said nothing. Good, he’d won this round.

He dropped the serious demeanor and bounced out of her space as quickly as he’d entered it. The old linoleum floor of his kitchen creaked with each step. A shit-eating grin took over most of his face. Y/N's shock at his actions faded, morphing into a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes.

“What?” he asked innocently as she studied him. It was a dangerous game they were playing, dancing around the tension between them like a bonfire. The nature of which, neither of them fully understood. Her eyes darted to the anxious tapping of Campbell’s foot. She grinned like the Cheshire cat.

“Nothing, Campbell, nothing at all.” She said taking a long sip from her glass, hiding her disgust better than she was hiding the flush of her cheeks. “So! Rodger the douche.” Y/N pivoted the conversation quickly. Right. Him.

“Aye, quite possibly the only person in this world I like less than you.” Campbell drawled out. Y/N frowned.

“Really? I’ve been trying so hard too.” She pouted slightly.

“What cannae say? Yer just not on his level of cartoonish evil. Keep trying though I’m sure you’ll get it.” Campbell teased. It felt nice, falling back into their comfortable routine of teasing and goading each other on. The tone was different this time. There was no longer this underlying intention of causing harm, that unhealthy need to win. It was softer, more reverent.  

Y/N worried her bottom lip with her teeth. The bitter taste of shame rising up in her throat. “I really am sorry… for digging into your life like that. I had no business.”

“Eh, it is what is I guess. Did you handle that with all the grace of an orange cat in an art studio? Absolutely! It’s just… hard to talk about I guess.” Campbell dismissed the apology with an unconvincing wave of his hand.

“I get that. Still, thanks for not kicking me out for being an inconsiderate idiot.” Y/N attempted Campbell smile by insulting herself, a formerly favorite pastime of his, but he stayed down. He’d been like this the last few years. Even if she hated him, she could sense the change. Gone was the happy-go-lucky ball of energy. In its place was a melancholy shell of a man, just going through the motions.

“Aye, well, there’s still time. Now answer the question!” Campbell didn’t like the way she looked at him. It was like he was a bug under a microscope. If Y/N registered his deflection, she didn’t let on.

“Right, the long answer. He wasn’t always so-“

“Evil?” Campbell interrupted

“No-“

“Self-centered? Entitled? Narcissist? This a great game, I could do this all day.”

“I was just going to say mean, but I suppose that works too.” Y/N laughed despite herself. “He used to be nice to me you know? Always telling me how talented I was. Just showering me endlessly with gifts.” Her eyes stared off behind him as if the scene was playing out in real time. She gave a small watery smile. “But he would get so jealous. Insanely so. At first, I thought it was cute, how much he cared about me. But it wasn’t caring, not really. It was about control.”

Campbell didn’t say a word.

“I don’t think never expected me to be so successful. He always said it, but he never meant it. Putting me on the radio, booking that interview with you” Y/N looked at Campbell as she spoke. “It was just another one of his elaborate gifts.” A self-satisfied smirk wormed it way onto her face. “If Rodger had it his way, I would’ve been a one-hit wonder spending the rest of my life cleaning up after him and his brood.”

Campbell snorted into his drink upon hearing her say the word brood, whiskey burned the inside of his nostrils. Y/N laughed. He simply held up his middle finger as he hacked up a lung.

Finally gaining his composure, after what felt like minutes of coughing. “So, he wanted you to be a housewife, that’s why you left?”

“Hey, it’s not your turn to ask a question.” Y/N scolded, clearly sick of discussing her ex-fiancé. Campbell held his hands up in mock surrender. “Do you mind turning on some music? I can hear myself think and I don’t like it.” Campbell barked a laugh and nodded.

“Hell yeah, I can play some music, it’s literally all I do all day.” Campbell bounded excitedly, beckoning her to follow him over to his record collection. Two floor-to-ceiling shelves stuffed to the brim with vinyl records from various decades stood on either side of a large state-of-the-art record player with built-in speakers. It was by far the most expensive thing in Campbell’s apartment. Most of his money went to upgrading his sound system and hunting down old records. Not much had changed since he was 19.

Campbell gestured grandly to his prized collection. “Pick anything you like!” He urged gleefully as he launched into a long-winded explanation of his overly complicated filing system, first by color, then by year, and finally by the first letter of the band name. The system created a beautiful rainbow gradient cascading down his shelves. Somehow, he was the only one who could find anything- which he could not for the life of him understand.

If Campbell had taken a moment to breathe between monologues about the development of sound systems over the years, he would have seen Y/N's eyes following him with great interest. Eyes sparkling with thinly veiled adoration. He had such passion. So much love for the subject that it nearly knocked her off her feet. She had never seen him so… happy. Her heart broke. Just a little.

For just a moment, she could see it. See Him. The bright-eyed kid from the photograph. The one she’d caught glimpses of in the early days of their interviews. But those moments grew fewer and farther between. Each year she watched a little more fade away. She couldn’t quite explain how angry it made her. To watch him slip away like that. Like witnessing a supernova slowly die. Even if he was the bane of her existence, he was a worthy foe.

Y/N felt a stab of guilt. It coiled around like a snake and sat like lead in her guts. She had noticed slowly over time, him falling into an intolerably mundane sort of predictability. Just going through the motions. She wanted fire. She wanted him to put up a good fight. So, in that fourth interview… she went too far.

“I’m… sorry… for what I said.” Y/N interrupted Campbell’s rant about modern music productions' inferiority. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. Eyes glued to the floor with guilt. He cocked his head to the side and frowned, looking much like a confused puppy.

“Whaddya mean? I already said yae were fine, yae didn’t think it through and I overreacted. We’re even now, dinnae worry about it.” Campbell's voice soothed as his brows furrowed together. He crouched down, attempting to catch her eye.

“No, not that.” Y/N’s voice trailed off. “It was a while ago.” This shyness wasn’t like her. Campbell shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He preferred it when they spent every second together like two feral cats in an alley. All claws and puffed-up tails. This was… far too intimate.

She sighed and gathered her courage, bolstered by the two glasses of whiskey. Dear lord, this whole apologizing business was much harder than it looked. And Y/N sure wasn’t making it look easy.

“Ugh, turn around,” Y/N demanded, voice laced with irritation. Campbell blanched.

“Oi, why do I have to turn around, what did I do,” Campbell whined indignantly. Was it rather childish? Yes. But when did he ever have the time to care about something as ridiculous as that?

“Can’t you just do what you’re told? This is hard enough for me to admit as it is.” Y/N rolled her eyes. Stomping a foot in an equally childish manner.

“Never.” Campbell narrowed his eyes at her. He absolutely detested being told what to do, but he did it anyway.

“Thank you.” Y/N ground out. She took a deep breath and just let whatever was on her mind spill out onto the carpet in a garbled mess of word salad. “I’m sorry for what I said that interview three years ago. When you weren’t fighting back like you usually did. And it made me so mad. Like I wasn’t even worth insulting properly. You were just phoning in your insults, saying the same tired old thing that every other half-brain critic was saying. I mean come on my lyrics are predictable? You said the same exact thing when you met me!” At this point, Y/N began to flail her arms emphatically. Campbell’s shoulders shook with laughter. She really cared about this, huh?

“Hey! Stop laughing I’m trying to apologize here!” That just made him laugh harder, nearly doubled over.

“Fine, fine” Campbell’s mirthful voice was broken up by laughter. “It’s just, yer so serious” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Yae mean ta tell me this entire time we’ve been tearing each others throats out, yae’ve been enjoying it?” What Campbell wouldn’t admit, is that he enjoyed it too, immensely. “Never woulda taken yae for a masochist. But hey, different strokes and all of that.” Campbell muttered under his breath. With a barely concealed smirk he waited for the remark to get under her skin.

“Wouldn’t it be Sado-masochist if I’m also just as mean to you?” Y/N wondered aloud. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Just shut up and let me apologize to you!” She groaned.

“Yae’re so good at apologizing, not mean or forceful at all.” Sarcasm dripped from Campbell’s voice like sticky sweet honey. He couldn’t see her face, but he could see the image of her eyes rolling as clear as day.

“Our banter just wasn’t flowing like it usually did. You weren’t… you weren’t being you. At least not the you I’d come to know. And even depend on a little bit.” The last bit came out rushed and quiet, swept away by the words that came after it so quickly Campbell could barely comprehend them, much less respond. “You just looked so dead-eyed. It’s like you didn’t even care to be there. That spark, the one that knocked me on my ass just a couple of years before was gone. It just made me angry. So, I pushed. I went too far. Knowing what I know now, I see I went even further over the line than I thought…” He didn’t need her to say anything more to understand what she meant.

“I believe yer words were ‘talentless friendless hack’ if I remember correctly” Campbell repeated her words back to her with only a small amount of bitterness. Y/N grimaced like she had just watched a toddler face plant on concrete.

“Okay so maybe I went overboard. I know you’re not actually a talentless friendless hack.”

“Aye, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Though I have to say friendless was a little harsh.”

“Yeah probably, but hey! To be fair, you gave as much as you got. I definitely got more than I bargained for- Hold on a minute” Y/N interrupted herself and walked over to study one of the vinyls tucked away amongst Campbell's extensive collection. He watched her movement with a raised eyebrow, confused as his eyes trailed down her arm to the album, she was moments away from pulling off the shelf. Oh crap.

“Ha!” Y/N exclaimed with humor and a load of arrogance. Campbell could barely stand to look at her shit-eating grin as she held up the album like a trophy. A copy of her third album. “You are such a liar Campbell Bain.” She teased as she flipped open the album.  The old promo pictures stared back at her like a haunting caricature of what used to be. Those feelings could wait. This was a golden opportunity she just couldn’t waste.

“I am not!” Campbell attempted to defend himself. Jaw dropped in indignant disbelief.

“Youuu,” Y/n pointed an accusatory finger in his face. Campbell went a bit cross-eyed attempting to look at the digit that sat mere centimeters away from his nose. “like my music. Admit it.” She gloated, unable to contain the massive smile on her face.

“It was purely for research, don’t flatter yerself.” Campbell tried to remain calm. This was not good. His cheeks slowly started to heat up. Y/N cocked her head to the side. She had that look in her eye. The dangerous one. The one that usually ended up with Campbell screaming into his pillow and winning arguments in the shower three days later.

“Oh really? Just research?” She stressed the word as she leaned in a fraction of an inch closer. Campbell swallowed loudly. “Then tell me why, you have a special edition, hm?” He had no answer. “Not only that, but a LIMITED RELEASE special edition.”

“Is it really?” Campbell tried to sound surprised but the pitch of his voice being an octave higher than normal might’ve given it away.

“Campbell these sold out in less than two hours.” Y/N bit down on her bottom lip to keep her smirk from morphing into a cheesy smile. Campbell shrugged and made an unconvincing noise. Something between a mumble and a high-pitched whine.

“See, even if I did believe you,” Y/N spoke slowly and intentionally as she pulled the vinyl out of its slip. She placed it gently on the record player, side A up. And let it play. “You’re forgetting the fact that you,” she ennunciated her point by poking a finger into Campbell’s chest. “Played my song on the radio today.” Y/N eyes sparkled with mischief. “From this album.” Her smile grew wider. His heart beat faster. He swore he could feel the blood moving in his veins. “Of your own free will?”

Her last statement sounded like more of a question. Like maybe perhaps some masked gunman had forced his hand. That was a far more likely scenario. Easier to believe than Campbell well and truly enjoying even a small piece of her work.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you, Campbell.” She meant it to sound light-hearted. She really did. But it came out in the same way one might wonder about the light of the stars reaching the earth. Meanwhile, Campbell was half-wondering if the stars had fallen out of the sky right into her eyes.

The light plucky piano melody of the opening track floated through the air. A sweet melancholic ballad that contains more chords than words. A simple lullaby. An insanely bold choice for an album opener. Frankly, the organization of the tracklist was a complete mess. As though someone had dropped each of the songs into a hat and plucked them out at random. And that’s exactly what Campbell loved about it. It was unpredictable and messy. It had soaring highs and crushing lows. A disastrously beautiful kaleidoscope of emotions that he couldn’t help but feel a kinship with.

Neither of them were sure how long they stood there. In silence. Trying in vain to find the depth of the other’s soul through the black hole of their eyes. One could logically argue, less than the length of a traditional pop song. But trapped there, in their own little universe. It felt like hours.

Cymbals crashed through the delicate moment like a runaway train. Ah yes, track two, the percussion-heavy vengeful follow-up to a sleepy little lullaby. The pair quickly stepped apart, suddenly aware of how close they’d gotten. Y/N turned away and pretended to study the vinyl lined up on the shelf.

“Okay, fine.” Campbell conceded, the jig was up. “Maybe, this album isn’t the worst…” He attempted to downplay his fondness.

“Not the worst? Glowing praise coming from you.” She smiled knowingly as she ran her fingers along the tattered edges of the album, well-worn from use.

Y/N pulled the lyric book out and began flipping through the pages. “You know, a lot of magazines said this was the worst album I’ve ever released.” The casual air she attempted to bring to her words fell flat. Pretend as she might, to be this impenetrable fortress of unshakable pride, their words got to her. A tinge of guilt twisted in Campbell’s stomach.

He swallowed thickly. “I think it’s a great album.” Campbell heard the words leave his mouth but didn’t remember saying them. Y/N eyes widened in shock, taken aback at the sudden praise. Her expression fell as she started to recede into her mind.

“This album sold fewer copies than any other album of mine.” Y/N leveled, as if trying to convince him to revoke his endorsement. That wasn’t going to happen. In for a penny, in for a pound as they say.

“Some people wouldn’t know good music if it slapped them across the face.” Campbell shrugged; well aware he was currently contradicting years of stubborn insistence she was bad at what she does. A confused smile tugged at Y/N's mouth.

“The order of the track list is a mess.” She continued to insult her work, not sure why. Simply parroting the same old criticisms she’d been playing over in her mind for years.

“But that’s the best part!” Campbell enthused, beginning to pace the floor as he raved about the organized chaos of the album and how it emphasizes the complicated and conflicting emotions shown throughout the narrative of the album. He went on and on as Y/N watched him with a rather lovesick expression.

“It’s the chaos of the universe trapped inside a bottle!” Campbell explained, finally turning back to face Y/N. Just in time to watch her face morph from unexpected adoration to pure delight. She gasped and sprinted across the room without a warning. He spun around like a top attempt to follow her movement.

“What are yae-?” He wondered aloud as she dug through her unreasonably large tote bag. Y/N pulled out her prize with a small noise of victory. A small notebook and a mechanical pencil. A song journal.

“That’s brilliant, absolutely brilliant” She muttered to herself as she scribbled away in her little notebook. Campbell smiled to himself as he moved closer, attempting to read the writing over her shoulder. But she was far too quick for him. Snatching the notebook to her chest with a scandalized expression. Campbell pouted.

“Hey, why cannae I see it?” He whined.

“Because!” Y/N explained in an equally mature manner.

“Yer a songwriter, sharing yer songs is literally yer job.”

“These ones are different.” She insisted. “These ones are just for me.” Campbell longed to read the contents of the notebook. He had half a mind to snatch it from her and lock himself in his bedroom. But apparently all the lectures from Eddie about ‘Boundaries, Campbell!’ had done something.

So, he sat down crisscrossed in front of her. The words of the notebook safely out of his line of sight. Y/N eyed him suspiciously as she slowly pulled the notebook from her chest. Despite his proximity, she slowly started to write again. Her gaze flitted over the top of the pages to make sure Campbell stayed exactly where he was. Eventually, she fell into the flow of songwriting, forgetting about his presence entirely.

Campbell found himself thoroughly entertained simply watching her work. In the back of his mind, he took note of all her little quirks. The way she worried her bottom lip with her teeth, her tongue poking out every once and a while. The crinkle that formed just between her furrowed eyebrows. It was different from her angry crinkle. Her nose scrunched up with it as she worked. The writing paused for a moment. She chewed absentmindedly on the end of her pencil as she looked up to the ceiling for inspiration.

When Y/N found no divine intervention splashed across the white ceiling her gaze drifted downward. And landed on Campbell. He perked up as her eyes studied him.

“Give me a word that rhymes with candle.”

“Uh… sandal?” Campbell panicked, spewing out the first word that popped into his head. Y/N frowned.

“Handle! Handle rhymes with candle!” He exclaimed.

“Better.” Y/N smiled. Campbell beamed at the praise. She continued to scribble furiously until she was satisfied, shutting the notebook with a sigh. Lost in her own world for a few more moments till she noticed Campbell staring at her expectantly. Y/N blushed and looked away.

“Well?” Campbell asked. He had been more patient in the last ten minutes than he had been for most of his life. He wanted to know what the song was.

“Well, what?” Y/N replied defensively. “I’m still not going to show you the notebook.” He did not like this answer.

“But yer done now! Why no?!” Campbell practically whined. At this point, the whisky had just started to go his head. He didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed about begging.

“These are the songs that are just for me.”

“Well, technically I helped write it so.”

“One word is hardly deserving of a writing credit!”

“Excuse you, I helped you come up with first line. I fully expect royalties from yae.” Campbell gave a crooked smile and held out a hand as if she was going to fork over the cash right then and there.

“Jokes on you, this will never see the light of day.”

“Whaddya mean!?” Campbell pouted, feeling rather put out that his songwriting career had ended as quickly as it started.

“This is my personal songbook. These are just for me. To play when I’m bored or sad.” Y/N explained with a slight redness to her cheeks. “Plus, the studio would never let me record these. They don’t fit ‘my brand’” She emphasized her brand using quotation marks with her fingers. Y/N rolled her eyes, her lips curling with a slight sneer.

“Y/N… you’re the label's biggest name by FAR. I’m sure you could do just about anything you wanted if you threw your weight around a little.” Campbell was confused as to why Y/N was so willing to just roll over and do whatever the label wanted. It was such a stark contrast to everything else he’d come to know about her.

Y/N raised an eyebrow and leveled him a look that plainly said, ‘I know you’re not that stupid’. “Campbell, I’m in my late twenties. I’ve probably got two more albums left in me before they retire me to the elephant graveyard of geriatric pop stars.” He wanted to protest but Campbell knew how this industry worked. If the record company had decided Y/N was past her prime, it was game over. “It’s only a matter of time before they pluck the next pretty young thing out of a thousand girls who are just as worthy and just as hungry.” Her voice had bitter fondness that Campbell could understand. Y/N eyes darkened. “Then they will grind her down, use her up, and throw her out. And the cycle repeats over and over until the fucking sun explodes.”

She tossed her notebook to the side. It smacked against the side of her bag and flopped open. Campbell, in a spectacular show of self-control, fought everything inside of him screaming to look at the words on the page. Y/N held her head in her hands and groaned.

“God, what am I even doing.”

“You’re sitting in my living room.”

“I know that wise ass. What am I going to do with my life once this is over?” Her eyes were wide and pleading. The question echoed somewhere deep in his soul.

“If you could do anything you wanted right now, what would you do?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“I want to eat pizza, get shit-faced, and play video games like I’m back in college.”

“Yer wish is my command,” Campbell replied with a cheeky smile. He leapt to his feet and gave a sweeping bow, before running to grab his phone.

———————————————

By the time the clock struck midnight the pair of them were locked in an epic grudge match, attempting to determine who was better at Mario Kart. An empty pizza box lay strewn open on the floor, a couple of spare pizza crusts and empty ranch cups discarded within it. The bottle of whisky sat half empty on Campbell’s trash-picked end table next to a 2-liter bottle of Coke that was quickly growing flat.

As they entered the final lap on Rainbow Road, Y/N passed Campbell with a rather unsportsmanlike cheer. He frowned; he wasn’t above playing dirty. With a smirk, Campbell hooked his elbow under Y/N’s and lifted quickly. Her remote went sailing across the room as Campbell crossed the finish line in first place.

He launched himself off the couch with a cheer. A wonderful bout of showmanship culminated in a victory dance that looked a lot like a funky chicken with a wedgie and no sense of rhythm.

“YOU FILTHY CHEATER.” Y/N gasped, turning to confront this slight head-on.

“Oi! All’s fair in love and Mario Kart, darlin’.” Campbell slurred slightly, feeling quite satisfied with himself.

“I’m not gonna play with you anymore if you’re gonna play like that!”

“Aww don’t be such a sore loser”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Their standoff lasted just a few seconds. The air held a slight tension before devolving into giggles.

“One of these days I’m going to beat you.”

“One of these days? Already plannin’ on seeing me again?” Campbell tried to fight the smile that was quickly taking over his face. Y/N’s face flushed. She recovered quickly, launching her retort mere moments later. A fraction of a second late. Only someone who knew her well could have noticed the hesitation. And whether he understood it or not, Campbell knew Y/N better than most.

“Well obviously, someone has to take you off your high horse,” she said smugly, lifting her chin in the air.

“My Mariokart high horse?”

“And several other horses, a small stable really. But, yes, that’s the main one. Your tyranny must end.” Y/N put her hand on her hips. An attempt to look like Superman, staring down her foe. Campbell thought she looked like a dork. A cute dork, but a dork nonetheless.

“I think you’re just a sore loser” He was aiming for an eye roll, maybe spring for her foot tapping in irritation. He loved to see what new reactions he could pull from her. He tucked each one away gently in the back of his mind to use later. Campbell’s train of thought, which was about as easy to control as a band of wild horses, was focused on one singular mission. Keep her attention on him.

“What? Can’t think of a better comeback? C’mon, I know you’re smarter than that.” Y/N teased.

“Was that an actual compliment?”

“Just trying to keep you on your toes.”

“Careful there, Y/N, or I might start to suspect that yae might actually like me.”

“See, I always half-wondered if you were crazy.” Y/N poked a finger into Campbell's chest. She toed the line between them. Testing the boundaries of this new dynamic as it shifted around them. While the rapid changes should’ve felt chaotic and uncomfortable, instead it simply felt natural. Like the shifting groan of an old house settling. “Now, I know it’s true.”

Campbell barked a laugh. Thrilled to find their old banter flowing again. But the digs felt more affectionate than malicious this time around. “Yae might be right, but I prefer the term loony!” He stuck out his tongue as he wiggled his fingers around his head. Y/N chuckled inwardly at his antics. “To be fair, by yer own admission, yer just as loony as me.”

The jest slipped out. His mouth moved faster than his brain. Just like always. Campbell’s eyes widened. He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He was unsure how she would take it. To his delight, she laughed.

“I suppose you’re right about that.” Y/N words were slightly slurred. But that was the only thing that betrayed the alcohol’s effect on her. She swayed back and forth, her eyes half closed, as an easy smile took up residence on her face. It was the most relaxed Campbell had ever seen her. Even in his drunken state. he could see the issue with that.

Y/N flopped back onto the couch with exactly zero coordination. Campbell followed suit. Her hand messily reached for the nearly empty bag of mini marshmallows that sat on the Ikea coffee table in front of them. It wasn’t exactly built correctly but it did stand upright. And for that, Campbell was immensely proud.

She shoved a messy handful into her mouth before raising a single mallow. Posed and ready to throw. “Catch” She attempted to say through a mouthful of marshmallows. What came out was “Mmph!”. But Campbell got the gist.

They took turns pelting each other with mini marshmallows till they were surrounded by a disturbing about scattered around them.

“Stop moving!” Y/N scolded, lining up her next shot.

“Am not!” Campbell responded. “It’s not my fault yae can’t throw for shite”

“It‘s not my fault you got me drunk!”

“I did no such thing. And I resent the accusation.”

“I resent you.”

“Naeeee, I think yae like me.”

“They should’ve never let you out of there.”

Campbell stuck out his tongue but said nothing else. Y/N smiled, basking in the pleasantly warm feeling that lingered in her chest. Probably just whiskey. Her eyelids slowly began to close as she leaned her head back on the couch. Consciousness fading in and out, Y/N absently wondered when the last time she felt this comfortable was. Her muscles loosened along with her tongue.

“You want to know something kind of sad?” Y/N asked tiredly. Campbell cocked his head to the side, confused.

“Sure?” He answered unsure where this was going.

“I think you might be my only friend.” She laughed a little as she said it. As though it was funny and not just heartbreaking. Y/N did this a lot, Campbell had realized.

“We’re friends?” he asked genuinely. Y/N cracked open an eye to look at him.

“Well, isn’t this what friends do?” She answered simply, gesturing lazily between them.

“Get drunk and throw marshmallows at each other?” he asked teasingly, ignoring the peculiar tug he felt in his chest. There were a lot of weird feelings in there recently. Maybe he needed to go see a doctor.

“Exactly,” she said sarcastically, feeling too comfortable to bother opening her eyes. “No, I just mean… It’s nice to be able to talk about this stuff with someone.” She paused, considering her own words. “At least someone who’s not on my payroll.”

“Wait I’m not getting paid?” Campbell joked. Y/N leveled a glare at him. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m kidding, I swear.” He considered her words for a moment. “It is nice.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Slumped against the couch as gravity tugged at their eyelids. Campbell didn’t have the presence of mind to fully question the strange position they had found themselves in. But he mulled over her words. He wondered about his own friends, nearly every one of them was an ocean away or six feet under. Maybe having a friend only a few feet away, regardless of how tumultuous their relationship had been, might not be so bad.

---------------------

Time passed in a laminar flow. Rapidly moving but visually still. Till Y/N bolted upright like a fire had been lit underneath her. The movement startled Campbell out of a sleep he hadn’t felt himself fall into.

“Wha- wassit?” He grumbled sleepily.

“Oh god, what time is it?’ Y/N scrambled frantically for her phone. Campbell groaned in protest and refused to open his eyes.

“Just go back to bed” He mumbled unintelligibly as his sleep-addled brain struggled to catch up.

“Oh god, it’s 2 am. Gus will have gone to sleep by now. How am I supposed to get home?” Y/N rambled quickly as her mind spiraled to the worst possible conclusions. “It’s not like I can take an Uber. I’ll get kidnapped or thrown in a ditch or held for ransom or-“

“Shhhhhh” Campbell blindly fumbled, attempting to silence her anxiety spiral with a finger to her lips. He succeeded in aggressively poking her cheek. “Just stay here, it’s not a big deal” The words came out before he recognized what he had said.

“What? Really?” Y/N asked, shocked he would even offer. Campbell finally opened his eyes, blinking up at her as his brain finally processed the situation.

“I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“I can’t take your bed, Campbell.”

“Sure, yae can.”

“It’d be rude to make you sleep on the couch.”

“Eh, I fall asleep here half of the time anyway” That much was true.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure that I would like to go back to sleep now,” Campbell said, stretching out his long limbs with an indignant groan.

“Right…” Y/N played with her hands again. “I don’t have clothes to sleep in.” Campbell froze. It was taking him too long to respond. She would notice the panicked look on his face any second now. Must deflect with humor.

“Oi, yae come to my house, steal my whiskey and my bed. Now yae wanna steal my clothes!? Yae really are a princess.”

“I resent that statement! You offered every single one of those things willingly. And I never technically asked to borrow clothes.” Y/N countered. All qualms about taking Campbell’s bed were suddenly thrown out the window.

“It was heavily implied!” Campbell argued as he tried and failed to lift his tired body off the couch. He groaned and flopped back down against the couch in defeat. “Can’t move… too comfy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and attempted to stand. The world tilted as her equilibrium attempted to maintain a grasp on the situation. It seemed their impromptu nap had not fully sobered her up. She put one foot in front of the other and attempted to take herself to bed. Y/N had taken care of herself plenty of times before. This time was no different. She’d simply let Campbell continue to sleep off their poor decision-making while she eventually stumbled onto some kind of soft surface.

Determined to sort out her dilemma on her own, she marched forward. This determination was short-lived as she realized she had no idea where she was going, or where anything was, and the idea of wandering through Campbell’s apartment without continued express permission to do so made her skin crawl. Y/N attempted to shake Campbell awake. However, he was quite determined to become one with the couch.

“Psst, Campbell.” A shake. A groan. “Campbell, wake up.” Another shake, this time a much more irritated groan. Y/N wasn’t sure if it came from her this time. “Cam, please, I don’t know where anything is.” She whined, feeling rather exasperated. The nickname caused him to peek open and eyelid. They were on nicknames now. Huh.

“Fine, fine, don’t get all twisted up about it. I’m getting up.” Campbell reluctantly peeled himself from the dent he’d made in the couch cushions. He gestured for her to follow him as he sleepily shuffled down the hall. Y/N followed closely behind, poorly gauging the distance between them as her cognitive function fought both sleep deprivation and whiskey.

They managed to stumble into Campbell's room with little difficulty. Without much forethought, he pulled open the doors to his closet in search of an acceptable hoodie for Y/N. Instead, he triggered an avalanche of clothes to pour out of the closet. Right. He had ‘cleaned’ earlier.

Y/N howled with laughter as Campbell attempted to stop the onslaught with his body. Nearly doubled over as he scowled at her.

“Yae could’ve helped me at least” Campbell mumbled bitterly.

“Nah, I’m good” Y/N managed to say between giggles.

He sighed and plucked a sweatshirt from the top of the pile. His favorite color block hoodie, with only slight apprehension he handed it over to Y/N along with a pair of pajama pants. She took them gratefully and waited. Campbell stared blankly, his mind already half drifted off. Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly.

“I need to change…” She said. Campbell straightened as his cheek flushed. Social cues had never been his strong suit but that was just downright embarrassing.

“Right, sorry.” he said quickly, scrambling out of the room. The door closed a bit too loudly behind him. Campbell busied himself with pouring two glasses of water in an attempt to think of anything else. And judging by the amount of whiskey left in the bottle, they were both going to need it.

Campbell considered forcing them both to grab a midnight snack, he was getting rather responsible in his own right. A yelp followed by a solid thud came from his bedroom. He raced back to the door.

“Are yae okay?” He asked. The groan he heard in response was not promising. “Should I come in?”

“No…” Y/N's voice came pitifully from the other side of the door.

“Did yae fall?” It was quiet for a moment.

“…yes” She finally answered. Sounds of shuffling ensued before the door to the room finally opened. Revealing a disheveled Y/N on the ground wearing his clothes. Campbell stifled a laugh.

“Come on, let’s get yae into bed.” He offered her a hand, which she accepted with a surprising amount of grace for someone who had clearly made out with the floor two seconds earlier.

Y/N drunkenly climbed into Campbell’s bed, stretching out her limbs and letting out a happy sigh. The sight of her burying her face into his pillow made the pit of his stomach turn in the most pleasant way. He set down a glass of water on the messy bedside table and helped her pull the covers up over her shoulders. Such a small, sweet gesture. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve pressed a kiss to her brow before wishing her goodnight.

As he turned to leave, before doing something he would certainly regret, a hand caught his wrist. Y/N’s big wide eyes watched him in the darkness.

“Cam?” Her voice was softened by oncoming sleep and edged with uncertainty. The nickname made his heart flutter.

“Yeah?” His voice cracked slightly. For someone who hated being told what to do, in that moment, Campbell was fairly certain he would’ve done anything she wanted.

The silence between them lasted two beats too long. Y/N eyes trailed from Campbell’s figure in the dark, illuminated by the hall light, to the space in the bed next to her. He gulped. She sucked in a breath.

“Never mind, goodnight,” Y/N said, dropping his hand and pulling the covers up around her chin. Cocooning herself in blankets that Campbell knew damn well smelled like him.

“Goodnight,” He said, fighting the lump in his throat. Campbell retreated, closing the door quickly behind him before she could see the panicked look on his face.

What the hell was that? Campbell felt his heart climb into his throat. It was similar to that time he rode the tilt-a-whorl at the carnival over and over again until he puked. Dizzy spinning sensation in the head and everything. He drank too much. That was all. Starting tomorrow he was following Eddie’s lead and swearing off the stuff forever.

It took the amount of time for Campbell to walk from his bedroom to the couch for him to realize he never changed into his pajamas. Damn it all, he’d rather sleep in the same clothes than go back in there. He shakily laid down on the couch and pulled the throw blanket over himself. The same one Y/N had been hogging all night. A faint scent of perfume still lingered. Campbell’s mind raced, replaying the events of the night over in his mind. The thought alone was enough to give him whiplash.

From laughing to fighting to drinking to becoming friends to whatever the hell just happened. That was a thorn his mind kept snagging on. Y/N had just faceplanted, she wasn’t thinking straight. There was nothing more to it than that. He shoved the thought into the back of his mind, hoping it would take the anxiety with it.

All of the tired energy he’d been lugging around was nowhere to be found as he memorized the details of the ceilings. Friends. They were friends now. How bizarre.

How do you go from hating each other to being friends so quickly? Had they ever really hated each other? The more Campbell thought about it, his feelings towards Y/N resembled more of an affectionate rivalry. If they put the pettiness behind them, what was their dynamic going to look like?

Forget the far future, what was tomorrow morning going to look like? He lost himself in a daydream of burnt pancakes and dancing around the kitchen. Of arguing over who gets to pick the music for far too long before flipping a coin for it. Of giving her the first cup of coffee out of the pot so she doesn’t get any grounds at the bottom of her cup. Of some sappy little love song spilling out of his speakers as he takes her hand and spins her around. The light from the window hitting her crooked smile just so-

Campbell sat up in a panic. The daydream followed his heart down to the pit of his stomach.

Oh. Oh fuck.

A/N: ahhhhh so that break lasted longer than i was expecting. so sorry for disappearing y’all. things have been a little crazy on my end. my boss got fired and we all been working overtime for the last two months cause they still haven’t hired a replacement. plus october/november has two back-to-back death anniversaries for me so i didn’t really have the motivation or the wherewithal to write this in the way i really wanted to. but it’s here now!!! and way longer than i was expecting! it’s cutting it a little close but i’m happy i was able to get this out in time for tota takeover. i hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for waiting this long

(also i’ve always wanted to write one of those “Oh, Oh.” moments hehehe)

[somethinglikethatyeah83]

oh my one of the few people who write for campbell bain do you take requests? cuz if so can you do campbell x reader who spoils him like anything he wants they get for him cuz they kinda suck at verbally expressing their love (totally not calling myself out here)

GIFTS: Campbell Bain

Pairing: Campbell Bain x GN!Reader

Warnings: Long mentions of depression but that's it :)

Summary: The request above :)

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: My first request thank you for sending it in! Yes I do requests, on my masterlist there is a link to a post about who i write for. I hope this was what you were looking for!

Depression was hard. There were so many things that became restricted as a result of it and I thought I had learned to deal with it. I thought that the meds were helping and that I was able to be somewhat normal. Turns out they weren't doing much for my love life, which was the first and main thing that annoyed me. Yes, it meant I couldn’t sleep, and that my appetite went at random times, and that I couldn’t control my smile all the time, but those things had become part of me.

Campbell was also part of me. I loved him so, so much, but just couldn’t show it. Depression just didn’t cater for being in a relationship.

I wasn’t able to be there for him 100% of the time, like he was for me. I wasn’t always available to hang out on the times we got a day pass, and it meant I couldn’t even get out of bed some days. I couldn’t hug him whenever I wanted, even if it was the only thing I could do.

So I had to find a way to show my appreciation for him somehow, because I did appreciate him so much. He was so lovely, and perfect, and exactly what I needed all the time. It took me a while, but I eventually found a way to show this appreciation. Gifts.

Any type of gift. Whether it was handmade, or a little card with a love note in it, or some flowers that magically turned up on his bedside table every few mornings. Giving him something felt like the only way I could show my appreciation for him. Even if he wasn’t the most materialistic person, I could still tell it meant a lot to him, which was the point.

After a few months, I could tell he was getting suspicious. We hadn’t yet breached the topic of what to do when I wasn’t as affectionate as he was, and so he wouldn’t have known that that’s what the gifts were a replacement of, but he was starting to connect the dots. I didn’t really care, to be honest, but it did mean that I would have to talk about why I wasn’t as touchy and affectionate as he was, which I would definitely struggle with.

This morning I had woken up and dragged myself out of bed in the early hours to visit the florists down the road. The nurses had happily let me out since it was the day I got a day pass, and I returned a few minutes later with a fresh bouquet of tulips mixed in with some long-stemmed roses and daisies. It was the usual group I got, but I also managed to get a bar of chocolate and paired it with a card I had written the night before. It was September, nowhere near Valentines day, and yet it was exactly what I saw other people give each other on the 14th of February. I wouldn’t know what to do on actual Valentines day, since it would definitely have to outshine this, but that was a completely different problem.

I was allowed to borrow a vase from the kitchen crew and once the flowers were popped inside it with some water, I snuck into Campbell’s room with a subtle smile curved into my lips. What I didn’t account for was that he was already awake, which never happened, sitting up in bed as if he was waiting for me.

“Ha!”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “Cam, you’re awake.”

He nodded, grinning and sitting up on the mattress. “Yeah, to catch you, silly! I finally did it. I finally caught you.”

“You’re acting as if I’ve committed a crime, it's just some flowers. I do this every week, s’not like it’s anything special.” I tell him, trying to avoid the question of why, which was the main thing I didn’t want him to find out about. He continues talking while I put the vase down on his bedside table, putting the chocolate and card behind it in the hopes he won’t notice until I’ve left.

“Aye, but every week. You spoil me every single week.” He points out, taking my hand and dragging me down onto the bed with him. “Why?”

I shrug my shoulders, not yet defeated. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Well, no, but-”

“So butt out.” I snapped, not realising that I had. “Do I need a reason to spoil my boyfriend because that’s the only way I know how to show that I appreciate and love him? Can’t I just be caring without being questioned about every small thing?”

Campbell had a small, loving smile curved into his lips. “Is that it?”

I blinked at him, shuffling around in my spot on the mattress, swallowing deeply and refusing to make eye contact with him. “Is that what?”

“Is that why you spoil me?” He asks, voice soft and like silk as he took my hands in his. “Because you don’t know how else to show you love me?”

The palm of my hand ran up my arm as I bit the inside of my cheek. All I had to do was admit that, yes, that was the reason, but it was easier said than done. I felt his hand rest atop my knee, soothing me. “Depression doesn’t really accommodate relationships. I’m not good at showing how much I love you but when I give you something it always feels easy.”

“And you were, what? Embarrassed about that?”

“In all these shows we watch each night, all the couples are so affectionate with each other, and I’d love to be like that with you but for some reason… I just can’t seem to be able to.” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders as if I didn’t know what I was talking about when in fact it was the one thing that had plagued my mind since I discovered it myself. “It makes me feel like shit.”

Within a split second, Campbell has his arms around my waist and has lifted me into his lap, my back against his chest. Next I feel his chin rest on my shoulder, and his words vibrating against my skin. “Never feel shit because of that. I don’t care that you can't be affectionate, because I know you love me, and I certainly love you, there’s no changing that. I love the gifts, I really do, and you can continue giving them to me if you really want but don’t think you have to spend money on me if you’re just doing it for that.”

“Yeah.” I sighed, resting my head back on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, though. I never said that.”

My lips curled into a smile. “You're welcome. I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” And I can hear the grin on his lips just for those four words. We spend a few minutes curled up in each other's arms, Cam still slightly sleepy, but I sit up slightly when I feel him move his arm away from me and over to his bedside table. “Hey, what’s this?” And I just about see him pick up the chocolate from my peripheral view. “Did you buy chocolate as well?”

I shrug. “Maybe…”

“Y/N!”

[noirvouzzz]

Sunday Morning

Pairing: Campbell Bain x fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: After spending the weekend outside St. Jude's, you return to the asylum, excited to see Campbell and give him a small present you got him at a record store. However, when you walk into his room, you find him in the middle of masturbating.

Warnings: Caught male masturbation, implied non-virgin!reader, virgin!campbell, making out, (slight) hair pulling, dry humping, boob sucking, handjob, blowjob, mention of rough oral, kind of public? (they're in an asylum so idk), aftercare, fluff.

Word count: 3.7 k

Author's note: Hi there, it's admin Kyra! I wanted to start by letting you know that English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any mistakes. And I haven't written a fic in forever, so bear with me. I tried to make Campbells dialogues sound like his accent, but keep in mind that I'm not Scottish so I don't know if it's right :'). Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!! :D

You waltzed into the asylum door, holding your backpack tightly as you looked around the place. It seemed surreal, but you were kind of happy to be back. After getting a weekend pass, you thought they'd have to drag you back to this place, but living there for the past few months made the asylum feel like home. You skipped through the corridors, excited to find Campbell and tell him about the little record shop that you visited on your free weekend. You had picked up a small gift for him — a simple vinyl record keychain. While it wasn't extravagant, your budget had limited your options, and you couldn't wait to give it to him anyway.  Something that you hadn't expected was missing him so much. Seeing him every day made the absence of his presence over the last two days feel oddly unfamiliar. And, walking to the common room, you couldn't help but wonder whether he missed you too.  You tried to anticipate his reaction to your early return since you were supposed to come back after dinner, yet ended up deciding to do it a few hours before schedule. But, where could he be? He wasn't at the radio station because you could hear Francine's voice announcing the next song, and he definitely wasn't in the common room where you were standing. Maybe he was in his shared room, but that would be out of character for him. He wasn't the type to isolate himself in his bedroom, especially not in the middle of the afternoon. You thought that he could be playing the guitar, or he could have got a day pass and not be in the asylum at all. However, you decided to stop overthinking and just check his room; if he wasn't there, you'd just wait for him to return. Approaching the door, a fluttering sensation started filling your stomach while you held the wrapped keychain in your hand. You caught the sound of distant breathy groans and tried to peek through the small window, but the blinds were pulled down. Perhaps he was sleeping, but you still wanted to surprise him, so you pushed the door open and walked inside. 

Your eyes widened, seeing the scene that was unfolding before you.  The room was quite dark, only being illuminated by a little ray of sunlight that peeked through the closed curtains. Campbell was sitting on his bed, his cheeks pink and his mouth slightly open as he let out heavy, sharp breaths. His back was leaning against the headboard, which would make little squeaky sounds whenever he moved. Your eyes travelled down to his hands. His left one resting on his lower stomach, twitching slightly, and his right one moving up and down under his boxers, palming his cock before stroking it in slow and long motions.  Then, Campbell's gaze met yours. He jumped and quickly removed his hand from his underwear, before pulling up his trousers and draping the blanket over his body. 

“Lass!” He exclaimed and took an anxious breath. “ye're early.” Campbell mumbled with a mortified look on his face. His shaky arms tightly held the blanket to his chest. 

“Oh! So-Sorry I'll leave.” You let out, not knowing what else to do in this situation. Your cheeks were also pink now, and, as much as you wanted to turn around and disappear, your body wasn't responding. 

“Fergus sneaked oot… for the day, and I didn't think ye'd be comin' until dinner, so…” His eyes moved to your hand, and he tilted his head. “What's that?”.  You looked at the present and cleared your throat. With all this situation, you almost forgot about it. “What?… Oh… I got you something.” He leaned forward slightly and smiled.

“Aw, really? Yer so lovely.”

This was weird; should you just give it to him? The most normal thing to do would be to come back later, but you had been dying to see his reaction ever since you bought it. You awkwardly approached the bed and sat on the edge, handing him the gift without touching his hands. He eagerly took it and began breaking the wrapping paper with his still shaky fingers. Once the broken pieces of paper were scattered around the bed, he held the little keychain and looked at it with a huge smile on his face. “F-For the radio station keys” you quietly explained, looking at him. “Do you like it?”

“It’s brilliant; I love it! I'd hug ye right noo, but I haven't washed ma hands.” He responded, looking at you with a big happy smile. He loved it, and his excitement made you want to hug him too.

“I don't care, c’mere.” You opened your arms, and he quickly leaned forward and embraced you, holding you tightly while softly shaking you around. 

“Ye're too sweet!” He told you as he nuzzled the crook of your neck. His fingers started tracing circles on your back, which filled your stomach with butterflies. Campbell had always been clingy and touchy, it wasn't unusual for him to hug you or caress you. But you had just caught him jerking off, and you couldn't deny you liked the sight.

“Ye didnae have to get me anything.” He moved his face in front of yours and placed his left hand on your cheek. “I know, but I wanted to.” His thumb started brushing your cheek, and your breath got caught in your throat. Even though he was usually a bundle of nerves and energy, he was trying to be gentle and caring, as if he didn't want to scare you away. 

“Sorry for interrupting you." You joked in an attempt to make the whole situation less weird, but it didn’t help at all, as regret filled your whole body when that sentence came out of your mouth.  You should've shut up and avoided acknowledging what you saw, acting as if it never happened and never mentioned it again — or at least that's what you wished you would've done. But it was hard to avoid talking about the only thing that was on your mind when he hugged you, when he rubbed his hands on your back, and when you could feel his hot breath on your neck. 

“Oh, dinnae remind me,” he chuckled. "Sorry ye had to see that.” “It's fine; it was just kind of... unexpected.” He looked away and smiled.

“It was embarrassin’, ah'm still embarrassed.” “Don't be; you looked kind of hot.”  You let out without thinking and felt your cheeks burning. You didn't know why you said that; maybe you just wanted him to feel better. He obviously did look hot, that was true, but you would've never said it to his face. You usually tried to be more subtle, with some innocent flirting here and there, never like this.  He smiled, lifting his eyebrows. “Ye're sae mean.” His gaze shifted to your lips. “Teasin' me when Ah'm... like this.” He laughed quietly and briefly looked away.  Your lips parted after you licked them, and your heart started thundering in your chest. “I mean, it was a good sight.”  He lightly pressed his thumb against your lower lip, softly playing with it. “Ye didnae even let me finish before breakin' into ma room.” His hand held your chin and brought you closer. “I didn't break into-” You tried to finish your sentence, but the feeling of Campbell's mouth on yours interrupted you. He placed a quick kiss on your lips and moved away instantly.  “Shit— Ah'm sorry.” He said quietly, his voice barely a whisper, “I wasn't thinkin'.”  Campbell looked down awkwardly, he seemed more embarrassed about the sudden kiss than about you catching him in the middle of pleasuring himself.  You let out a chuckle and took his arm, pulling him closer again. “Shut up.” He looked at you with a puzzled expression, and you kissed his lips again, wrapping his arm around your waist and making him press you onto his body. He moved his free hand to the back of your head, his fingers scratching your hair as you intertwined your arms around his neck. 

You kept kissing for longer, lightly brushing your tongue against his lips, feeling his breath getting huskier and his grip squeezing you tighter. His kisses were a bit sloppy, you could tell that he was nervous and that he hadn’t done much kissing before, well, you knew that. He had shamelessly told you plenty of times how he couldn’t wait to get discharged to go to some party and lose his virginity.  He wanted to get drunk with his friends, meet a pretty girl to get her a drink, and take her home. And he was sweet about it, making endless unrealistic plans of spoiling that girl, taking her on holidays to the beach, and making her the happiest woman in the world. You had always fantasized about being that girl, wishing that he would see you the way you did, and getting a bit sad every time he talked about having to find her when you were right there, waiting. But now you were kissing him, and he was kissing you back. Leaning onto the bed, resting his back on the headboard, and pulling you against him.

Campbell hesitantly bit your lower lip, delicately sucking it into his mouth and trying not to hurt you, while you placed your hand on his chest.

“Y'okay?” He whispered after separating for a moment. He was still playing with your hair as he looked at you with his big brown eyes, eyebrows furrowing in worry.  “Mhm.” You licked your lips and gave him a small smile. “Are you?”  “Aye.” He smiled back and leaned in to kiss you again.  Campbell began to feel more confident, moving his hand up and down your waist and giving little caresses with his long fingers. His tongue was exploring your mouth, and his hand started sliding down your side and lingering on your lower half. You knew he craved to touch you, but he was too nervous to make a move. So you took his hand and moved it to your ass, which he instantly squeezed whilst he held your hair tighter.

You moved closer, sitting on his lap and sliding your hands under his striped T-shirt, sensing his skin quivering beneath your fingertips. Campbell pulled your head back by your hair and moved his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking, sending shivers down your spine. A little moan escaped your lips when he started nibbling your skin, which caused him to make his hold tighter. His eager lips released a soft groan as he pushed his hips up unconsciously, his body aching for some kind of friction to relieve the pain between his legs.  Your hand began sliding down his abdomen, resting on his lower stomach while tracing your fingers along his waistband. The more you moved with him and pressed your thighs against his legs, the wetter your soaked panties became.  You couldn't shake the mental image of him touching himself. You wanted to feel him, to get your hand under his pants, and make him squirm to your touch.  But this was his first time, and you were still in an asylum after all; going further was way too risky, but it was also so really tempting. As you kissed passionately, your bodies kept moving in sync, hips pressing firmly and rubbing against each other, making you both struggle to suppress the escalating urge to moan.  “…can I?” you murmured quietly, your fingers playing with the elastic of his pants while he moved to look at you with an amused expression. “Really?” His breath got caught in his throat, and he quickly nodded enthusiastically, “Aye, o' course.” While your gaze remained fixed on his face, your hand made its way to his groin, pausing there for a moment. “You sure?” You asked again.  Campbell tucked your hair behind your ear. “Aye, please,” he responded eagerly, “but ye dinnae have to do anythin' if ye dinnae want to.”  From his nose down to his neck, you planted soft kisses that turned into gentle sucking, causing small moans to escape his kiss-swollen lips. You then moved your hand to his crotch, pressing and palming it in a slow, rhythmic motion. With a long sigh, he squeezed your ass, his fingers sliding under your shirt to caress your skin. Heavy breaths escaped him as his digits toyed with the hem of your bra. “Can I touch ye? Please?” he requested breathlessly. You nodded towards his neck, feeling his hand slip beneath your bra, cupping your boob, and tracing circles with his thumb around your hard nipple. While you continued kissing his neck, you unbuttoned his jeans, and, with a lift of his hips, he helped you slide them down to his knees.  Campbell held the bottom of your shirt and glanced at you, silently seeking your consent to take it off. Once more, you nodded, raising your arms for him to swiftly remove the shirt and admire your body. “Yer so beautiful.” He whispered softly and began gently caressing your sides, his fingertips gliding over your skin as they returned to your bra. You gently stroked him through his boxers, moving slowly, sensing the tension in his muscles building. Gasping in your ear, he fumbled with his hands, the movement becoming sloppier as his fingers trembled slightly. He brushed them under the hook of your bra, locking eyes with you while you nodded once more. Your bra loosened, and he slid it down your arms, pausing to meet your gaze briefly before returning to fondle your breasts whilst planting kisses from your neck down to the curve of your collarbones.  Moving to your cleavage, Campbell's tongue brushed its way to your nipple. He grasped your breast with his big hand and sucked you into his mouth, flicking his tongue and letting out sharp breaths. 

“Is that okay?” he asked gently, looking up at you with a caring expression.  "Yeah,” you whimpered, and he smiled before going back to sucking on your nipples.  He was getting harder under your hand, wet spots forming on his boxers as you slowly palmed him. You were being painfully subtle, moving slowly and teasing him, enjoying the sound of his eager sighs and groans. So, with a tender touch, you slipped your fingers beneath his underwear, gently tracing along his lower abdomen without moving any further.  “God, lass, ye're killin' me,” he whined, breathing heavily against your chest, “please, jist touch me already.”  Amused by his needy attitude, you decided to cease the teasing, planting a sweet kiss on the top of his head and removing his boxers. Looking at his arousal, you nervously bit your lip, your gaze switching between his hard cock and his hungry eyes. You took a deep breath and spat on your palm, and a sharp gasp from Campbell echoed at the sight. Your hand inched towards his erection, fingers brushing the underside of its length, provoking a responsive twitch to your touch. You softly held him, circling around the head, rubbing some spit and precum on it, and gliding your fingers along his sensitive slit.

Campbell quickly turned into a whimpering mess, attempting to stifle his moans while you barely even touched him. As your grip tightened slightly, moving up and down his shaft, his rhythmic breathing hitched, his body melting under your touch when you started going faster.  “Mmm… Jesus,” he whimpered, his hand trembling as it reached for your neck, caressing it lazily. 

“Is that good?” you asked with a cheeky smile.  His glazy eyes fell on yours, his lips parting slightly. “Mhm,” he whined, “it feels so good.” He jerked his hips in a slow rhythm, gently thrusting into your hand and panting with each motion.  “Really?” you responded in a playful tone, spitting on his cock again to keep your movements smooth. “Want it to feel better?”  Campbell’s eyes lit up, and he nodded almost desperately. His words caught in his throat; all he managed to respond was a faint “Please,” uttered almost silently. You scooted down from his lap, now kneeling between his shaky legs while you set your hair behind your ears. His mouth dried when he felt you placing a kiss on his tip. Moving quickly, he brushed your hair away from your face — putting it in a makeshift ponytail — and a low groan escaped him when he felt your breath on his skin, his cock twitching against your tongue as you brushed it up his side. Then, you made contact with his tip, swirling your tongue around the head and dipping it into his slit. You placed your hand on his hip, balancing yourself and finally letting him into your mouth. 

You began slowly, sucking gently and moving your head up and down while glancing up at him. He was admiring you, his slightly open mouth letting out grunts and sharp breaths when he ran his fingers through your hair. After a few minutes, you started bobbing your head in deeper motions, taking most of his length into your mouth and feeling it hitting the back of your throat. The room's silence was broken by Campbell's breathy moans and the wet sounds of your choking and slurping.

At that moment, everything about you appeared beautiful to him — your cheeks softly hollowing around his cock, the saliva running down your chin from your swollen lips, and your pretty watery eyes. With his free hand, he was using his thumb to gently dry your tears while using the other to guide your head, urging it to move faster. He was holding back, resisting the urge to hold your head and start fucking your throat, but he wanted to be gentle with you and let you take the lead, knowing that you had more experience than him and you definitely knew what you were doing. He wasn’t going to last much longer anyway; the feeling of your mouth and tongue all over his cock was too intense for him.

“Ahh… Ah'm gonna…” he whimpered, his eyes shut and his hand starting to grip your hair when his whole body tensed up.  You pulled him out of your mouth, still jerking him off. “Are you gonna come?” You teased him and kept stocking him quickly as he moaned, “Mmm… Aye, please… ahh” “Come for me, darling.” You groaned, letting him pound your hand until thick strands of come splattered over your palm and his shirt. Your hand kept moving up and down through his orgasm, slowing down until he collapsed onto the headboard with a little smile on his face, taking a moment to catch his breath and recover. “Ah… thank you” Campbell purred and opened his eyes. He glanced at his clothes, letting out a chuckle. “What a mess.” He murmured under his breath, removing his T-shirt and using it to wipe your chin, hand, and himself before planting a soft kiss on your lips.  “You’re so gross,” you laughed, “could've washed my hands.”  “No,  ye're no goin' anywhere." He threw his T-shirt on the floor and pulled you into a hug, holding you and eagerly placing a bunch of soft kisses over your face. “Yer so perfect.” "Relax, Campbell,” you grinned, and he continued squeezing you into his arms.  “I cannae,” he cheered and kissed you again. “Cannae believe this just happened."  “Okay, let’s calm down." When he loosened his grip, you drew him onto your body, cradling him while he rested his head against your bare chest. His pounding heart began to gradually slow down, and his embrace was no longer crashing you, so you covered yourselves with the blanket and kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling?” you asked, and he looked at you.  “Brilliant, Ah'm gonna remember this day forever,” he grinned and started caressing your arm. “Ah'm gonna remember the keychain, Ah'm gonna remember you coming through the door, Ah'm gonna remember yer pretty face…” 

With a smile, you held onto him, watching as he continued ranting and rubbing your skin with his long fingers. And then, you heard the sound of the radio echoing through the corridor's speakers. 

Up until that point, a stream of uninterrupted music had been playing. However, when Francine announced the final song, Campbell let out a sigh and buried his face against your shoulder.  Despite not wanting to acknowledge it, you knew that as soon as the show ended, the corridors would become crowded with patients and nurses. Dinner was about to start, and Isabel wouldn’t hesitate to walk in the room and drag you both if you weren’t there.  “We should get dressed,” you said, and he whined, squeezing tightly, “Come on, we’ll miss dinner."  “Ah'm really cosy,” he protested, nuzzling your neck. "Dinnae wanna move."  “Wanna get in trouble? You’ll miss your cocoa,” you responded, giggling and nudging his arm. He shook his head without looking up. “Get up then.”  Rising from the bed, Campbell began to get dressed, throwing on his colour-block hoodie and jeans. You, too, put your top back on and retrieved his dirty T-shirt from the floor. “You’re never getting the stains out,” you teased before tossing it into the laundry basket.  “I dinnae care,” he responded and walked to you, placing his hand on your cheek, “it was so worth it."  You smiled, he pecked your lips one last time. He took the keychain, adding it to his key, and placed them in his pocket. Then, he took your hand while opening the door. “Ready?” he asked, as he placed a kiss on your knuckles.  “Yeah, let’s go.”  Campbell gave your hand a squeeze and cheerfully walked you out of the room.  “Ach, I nearly forgot! How'd yer weekend go, then?” He asked, lovingly gazing at you while waiting to hear all of your adventures outside the asylum.  When you decided to return to the asylum before you initially intended to, you could've never expected for any of this to happen. However, as Campbell led you through the corridors with the happiest smile on his face, you realized that you had made the right choice, and you would not change it for anything.

This is the first fic i've written in ages so I hope you liked it. If you have any prompts for Campbell fics x reader fics let me know and ill take a look :). Like, rb, and follow if you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading!

[inezrable]

no but i just think cuddles could fix him

[princeloww]

IS THIS EVERY FANFIC WRITERS DREAM?? BECAUSE ITS MINE. OH MY GOD?? in the WILD

[abstractfanboy]

guess which fic I referenced em from

@princeloww

[topxmenfan]

Considering becoming one of those people that posts on tumblr about their fanfictions so I can feel cool

[ebenelephant]

okay Takin' Over The Asylum peeps, how do we feel about a tota fic written with scots dialect in the prose?

to clarify, this would not be a scots language fic but rather the scots dialectical english which is spoken in the show and by the majority of scots in real life. many of the words would be fairly intelligible to their english counterparts - eg dog vs dug or wis vs was or otherwise easily understood given context. i'm not about to throw a tattiebogle at you apropos of nothing, but campbell might make a joke about somebodies geks in the obvious context of their glasses, yeah?

browsing through the tota tag on ao3, i suddenly became aware that a number of fics have very little scots in them even when they're in campbell's pov, or otherwise have him speaking scots dialect but the prose doesn't support this, and I was thinking a lot about how this in a way alienates the language of the characters in their own stories – especially as I began a wip with this approach. I suppose I was just wondering if non-Scots would persevere?

[modrntravlr]

pre-canon campbell bain headcanons - takin over the asylum (1994)

Warnings: These headcanons are almost entirely based on Campbell's experience with his mental illness, and do discuss his experiences with both depression, mania, insecurities, and health concerns.

wanted to be a pro footballer - campbell, despite not being exceptionally good at it, really liked football. his father had no problem enrolling him in youth leagues when he was a kid, and he never missed a game on the telly. he played well enough, but he was definitely not going pro anytime soon, but he still tried his best to keep getting better.

never had many friends - growing up, campbell was a very likable person. he always had people to talk to in class, and someone to sit with at lunch, but he never had any real friends. plenty of people in his class thought he was funny and appreciated having a good laugh with him, but he never got invited to any birthday parties, or got asked to hang out after school or on the weekends.

was diagnosed at 15 - he had a manic episode for the first time when he was 15 and still in school. he had always been a bit of a class clown, so nobody really thought much of it when he started acting a little more disruptive than usual until one day he had a full on outburst in class, which led to him getting suspended. his parents were upset, but didn't think much of it either until a few days later when his mood drastically dropped out of no where and he had his first depressive episode. it wasn't until the morning he was supposed to go back to school and he refused to get out of bed that they all, including himself realized something was really wrong. his dad assumed he was just being a typical teenager, with typical teenage angst, but his mom was concerned and dragged him to a doctor, which led to a diagnosis after a few weeks of psych evaluations.

insecure about his diagnosis - after he was diagnosed, he had a lot of trouble coming to terms with it. even before his father started voicing his opinions on the matter, campbell himself felt ashamed about being mentally ill and vowed to keep it hidden from the other kids at school. for years he tried to convince himself that if he just ignored it, he could pretend that he wasn't sick at all. at that point, he even tried to act more "normal", making his first real attempts at making friends at school, and learning guitar to try to get a girlfriend just to be more like the other boys at school. he made a couple of friends, none of which he ever got very close with out of fear that they would discover his secret, but had no luck with the girlfriend bit of his plan. obviously, his fathers blunt judgement only intensified his feelings.

stopped planning for the future - early in his treatment, not long after he had been diagnosed, a psychiatrist had told him that manic-depressive people have a shorter life expectancy than those without it. after this, he stopped really putting much thought into his future. he knew for sure then that he'd never be a pro-footballer, but he never really gave much thought about other options for him either. for the most part, he figured he'd end up dying young, and felt that finishing school and having a career would be a waste of the little time he had left.

stable until he was admitted - after his diagnosis, he was placed on a low dosage of lithium that kept him relatively stable for the most part although he tended to lean a little further into the realm of depression rather than mania/hypomania. he had remained stable all the way up until he was 18, going on 19, when he had the episode that landed him at st. jude's. it had been determined that he had gained a resistance to the low dose of lithium and evidently went into a manic episode, which led him straight to the doors of the bbc, swearing he was gonna be the next big thing. once it had been determined that he needed a higher dose of medication as well as more intensive therapy treatments as well, his parents (mainly his father) and doctors decided it would be best for him to be admitted for some time. his mom on the other hand, was convinced that she could continue to care for him at home.

[hawkdisaster]

Me and the urge to write a fanfic when Campbell Bain (played by David Tennant in Takin' Over the Asylum) is a compagnion in the same time with Rose Tyler, who just act like a big sister ready to throw anyone stupid enough to even try to hurt him in the near black hole (and obviously with the full support of the Doctor). And also : can you all imagine THIS trio ?

BECAUSE I CAN !!

[kisses-from-crows]

Crossed Wires - Campbell Bain - Ch. 6

Pairing: Radio Host!Campbell Bain/Popstar!femReader

Summary: Y/N and Campbell agree to meet and discuss a plan to put the pesky dating rumors to rest. Campbell is just hoping to get to the bottom of this mysterious interview.

Genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, modern au, reader insert, forced proximity, misunderstandings, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4,199

Warnings: Swearing, Yelling, Mental Illness, References to Alcohol

Chapter 6: Cocoa and Conversations

Beginning | Previous | Next

TMZ: Breaking News! A source close to Rodger Del Ray Jr. states that he and F/N L/N have amicably called it quits. The couple has ended their three-year engagement over issues with the prenup. Click here to read more about the split!

Posted: 1 year ago

“My place is swarmed with paps right now. Can we meet at yours?” Y/N messaged.

Campbell’s heart dropped to his stomach. Y/N at his apartment? Images of dirty dishes and piles of laundry flashed through his mind. His fingers twitched over the screen as he wracked his brain for excuses. For any single reason to keep her out of his space. Dread filled his whole body at the thought of it.

They had to meet somewhere else, anywhere else. What would they even do at his house? He barely kept any food that wasn’t frozen or microwaveable. What kind of snacks did she eat? What if she didn’t like any of the drinks he had? What if she thought his decorations were dumb? It had to be somewhere else.

Memories of getting swarmed in the restaurant flooded his consciousness. Phantom sensations of running through the streets, gasping for air, and the weight of her hand in his. Campbell flexed his hand unconsciously at the thought. A repeat of that incident would just make everything worse. His apartment was the only option.

“What time?”         

Around 7:15 Campbell was scrambling around his apartment in a feeble attempt to make it presentable. Shoving clothes into closets and frantically washing dishes that had begun to develop their own ecosystem. He may work well under pressure, but it didn’t ease the overwhelming panic that sat on his chest. Once his closets were thoroughly stuffed and his dishes mostly done, Campbell decided the space was as good as it was going to get.

He plopped himself down on his threadbare old couch and waited. And waited. And waited. Feet tapped the floor impatiently as hours ticked by. Unable to stand the rising pressure, he checked his phone. It had only been two minutes.

Nervous energy took hold of his being. Campbell sprung to his feet and began rearranging the furniture in his living room. He took to manic interior decorating like a fish to track and field. In a matter of minutes, the armchair was in front of the window, and he was struggling to push the couch across the room. With an effortful grunt, he pushed against the couch with all his might before collapsing into a heap on the ground. As he began to catch his breath, the buzzer to his apartment rang out. He scrambled to the intercom.

“It’s unlocked.” He rasped out. And fell dramatically to the ground once more. Moments later there was a knock on the door. He miserably crawled over and fumbled with the door handle from the floor. It opened to reveal a pair of fine brown leather boots.

“Hi- why are you on the ground?” Y/N asked puzzled, she crouched low and gave him a once-over.

“Dinnae worry bout’ it,” Campbell said breathlessly. Were the impromptu workouts going to be a more frequent thing? Because that was going to be an issue. Upon discovering he had no immediate injuries requiring medical attention, Y/N stepped over his prone figure and into the apartment.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” she said politely, the pleasant tone a contrast to the rather presumptuous way she had entered the apartment. Campbell pulled himself to his feet, nearly stumbling into an unsuspecting Y/N, but righted himself moments before collision. He let out a breath of relief. The idea of touching her made his skin feel tight and tingly.

“Aye, I’m rather fond of it. Something wonderful about having yer own space.” He followed behind her, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “It’s not much but it’s home.” She must be used to her penthouse on the Upper East Side. A lush life surrounded by doormen in well-pressed uniforms and influencers awash in petty status symbols. The heels on her tall boots clicked across the wooden floor. The sound paused as she stopped to examine a picture frame on the wall.

In it, a younger Eddie gave a crooked smile as a younger Campbell slung an arm around his shoulder with a smile so wide it took up his entire face, eyes disappearing behind his rosy cheeks. It had been taken in the old studio back at St. Jude’s. He had only been 19 at the time. There was something so innocent and unsullied in those scrunched-up eyes.  Something tugged at his heart as he realized just how young he looked. He remembered feeling so much older.

Behind them stood a merry Rosalie, a coy-looking Francine, and… Fergus. His throat felt tight. Fergus was making some ridiculous face, with his brows scrunched together and his teeth protruding over his bottom lip. The corners of Campbell’s mouth tugged upwards despite the way the well-worn cracks in his heart had once again sprung a leak.

She smiled and traced a finger along the image of him before remembering herself and withdrawing her hand. Her eyes flashed quickly to the side to see if he noticed. He did.

“Is that you?” She said with a warmth in her voice that he wasn’t quite familiar with.

“Aye,” Campbell said a bit shyly as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He felt rather vulnerable as she absorbed a crumb of that part of his life.

“Who’s this with you?” She asked, squinting her eyes eagerly and leaning closer to the photo. That was a loaded question. Campbell settled on the safe option.

“That’s Eddie McKenna, he’s the reason I’m even a DJ today. I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without him. Though if yae ask him, he’d insist I had enough stubborn will to do it on my own. But I like to think I wouldn’t have enjoyed it half as much” Fondness laced through his words as he recalled the influence the older man had on his life. Eddie was the closest Campbell ever got to a supportive father figure. Eddie believed in Campbell like no one ever had, defended him in his absence, and looked after him to his own detriment. He really needed to call him.

“He seems like a great guy. You think rather highly of him, huh?” Y/N turned to look at him, with a glimmer in her eyes that Campbell knew better than to call longing. And yet. “Must be quite the endeavor to get into your good favor.” The honeyed warmth in her voice soured with a tinge of bitterness. Campbell couldn’t quite wrap his head around where it came from.

Turning on her heel, Y/N took a few steps forward into the kitchen. Awkwardness sat on her tense shoulders like a yoke as she looked around the small space, unsure of what to do with herself. Campbell studied her stiff movements as she navigated the unfamiliar environment. She eyed the chairs to the kitchen table warily, as though picking the wrong one would cause a trap door in the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Based on the grim expression on her face, it seemed she might prefer the trapdoor option. Clearly, he was going to need to take the lead on this.

“Aye, there’s no reason to look so glum. Let me remind yae, yae came here willingly. Just take a seat.” Campbell flashed her his signature disarming grin. “Do yae want anything to drink before we get down to the nitty-gritty?”

Upon hearing a lack of response, he turned to look over his shoulder at Y/N. Meeting her gaze briefly, her eyes betrayed just how uncomfortable she was. Not quite to the same level it was at the restaurant, but that deer-in-the-headlights look was making a strong appearance. Okay, a slow approach would be best then.

“Do yae like cocoa? I make a damn good cup of cocoa.” His gaze didn’t leave hers as she gave a small nod with a rather pathetic attempt at a smile. He grinned in return and gathered the ingredients for the drinks. Campbell bounced happily, remembering that he had snagged more mini marshmallows on the way home. He turned on the stove, electric only of course, and began heating the kettle full of milk.

“I can’t remember the last time I had hot chocolate.” Y/N mused; amusement floated through her voice with a note of something more Campbell couldn’t place.

“Seems yer long overdue then, if yae ask me.”

“I guess so.” Y/N played with rings on her fingers. Twisting the silver bands, pulling them off one by one, and setting them on the table. Before putting the rings back on and repeating the process over in a sort of nervous ritual.

As the milk came to a boil Campbell pulled it from the burner and poured it into the two mugs. He tore open three packets of cocoa mix, stirring one and a half packets into each until he was satisfied with the consistency. Just as he went to pick up the mugs and bring them to the table, a tiny voice shouted out in his mind. Without a second thought, he pulled out a small espresso mug and poured a splash of his cocoa into it for Fergus. It was their ritual, and he wasn’t going to stop it now.

He carried the mugs to the table, shoving down the complicated feelings fighting their way to the surface. The mugs clicked against the table as he set them down haphazardly, a bit of steaming hot cocoa spilling over the side and onto his fingers. He quickly shoved the afflicted knuckle into his mouth to soothe the burn. Y/N sucked in a breath, air hissing between her teeth. Eyes flitting between his knuckles and his furrowed brow, assessing the damage.

“Are you all right?” There was an unusual tenderness in Y/N's voice. Campbell gave a non-committal shrug and removed his fingers from his mouth, shaking them.

“S’alright.” He gave a cheeky smile. “Would take more than that to take me down.”

He sat down and pushed the fuller mug across the table to the not-so-empty seat opposite him. She gave him a grateful smile and picked up the mug. The sight of that second cup of cocoa doing anything other than growing cold and remaining miserably untouched was a little jarring to Campbell. She blew on the liquid to cool it off before bringing it to her lips. Her eyes lit up with delight as she began to down the chocolate beverage. Moments later she yanked the cup from her mouth and let out an undignified wail.

“Oh god, I burnt my tongue!” Y/N whined, panting dramatically in an attempt to cool off her mouth.

“What didya do that for? Yae just watched me burn myself not three seconds ago!” Campbell laughed at her theatrics and took a sip from his own mug.

“God, that is it good.” Y/N practically groaned. Ignoring Campbell’s teasing she went back in for another ill-advised swig of cocoa.

“Oi, I almost forgot!” Campbell exclaimed, leaping from his chair suddenly, nearly knocking it over in the process. Y/N jumped slightly at his sudden movement but kept her composure, staring after him curiously. He bounded across the kitchen to snatch his prize from the cupboard. Treasure in hand, he plopped himself back down into his seat.

He tore a messy hole in the bag of marshmallows and stuffed his fingers in to grab a handful. Campbell plopped them messily into his mug with a proud smile, picking off the rogue mallow stuck to his finger with his teeth. Without asking, he reached in to grab another heaping handful, dropping them into Y/N’s mug with even less ceremony than the first. The sheer number of mallows could not be contained by the measly mug. They toppled over the sides and onto the table.

Y/N let out a loud sudden laugh that staggered out of her like it caught her by surprise. She picked up her mug gingerly to preserve the marshmallow mountain, but to no avail. A few more precious morsels fell into her lap. A lopsided smile slowly took over most of her face, tongue poking out slightly from between her teeth. It was goofy, and adorable, and perfect.

Campbell felt his heart stutter in his chest for just a moment. It was a foreign sight, such a raw genuine smile gracing Y/N’s face. When had he ever seen her smile like that? With the way the emotion shifted in its place like it was unused to being there, he wondered if anyone had ever seen it. He liked it.

“I have to admit, you make a pretty good cup of hot chocolate. This is amazing! Really-” Y/N rattled off praises that made the tips of Campbell’s ears turn pink. A thin hot chocolate mustache lined her top lip. He smirked as he took in the sight. She didn’t have a clue as she continued to take deep gulps of the now cooler cocoa. Her lips probably tasted just like chocolate right now.

Well, that was new. Campbell’s eyes widened at his traitorous thoughts. He scrambled to remember why they were here, drinking together and laughing.

Enemies. They were enemies. Who were using each other to get out of a sticky situation, that’s all. They hated each other. It was nothing more than that.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, desperately trying to urge his mind off its current topic of interest. Y/N bounced slightly in her seat, happily downing the rest of her drink, blissfully unaware of the war happening behind Campbell’s eyes. He wracked his brain for something to say, anything.

“So apparently yae and I are dating.” Brilliant Campbell, just brilliant. Evasive maneuver of the century. Y/N choked on the last of her cocoa. She attempted to compose herself through poorly hidden coughs.

“Are we now? Well, you could’ve at least told me.” She smirked as if she had any dignity left after that coughing fit.

“Well, I’m just as surprised as yae are.” Campbell smiled, leaning back in his chair and locking his hands behind his head. A perfect picture of feigned indifference. His heart, however, beat out a confusing rhythm in his chest. “Yae wanna stage a messy public breakup? Could be fun!” A conniving smile slid across his face as he hatched an overly elaborate scheme that was likely doomed to fail.

“Let’s not reinvent the wheel here, we just need to stick to the original plan. And the rest will work itself out. No reason to give the vultures the false satisfaction of being right.” Y/N said, unable to meet his eyes as she smoothed out invisible wrinkles on her wool sweater. Gone was the carefree Y/N who had been laughing moments before. In her place was the media-trained figurehead he knew and loathed. ‘False’… something about that wording made Campbell’s chest ache a little.

“Aww come on, wouldnae be fun! We could come up with a whole buncha shite about each other. I would say I couldnae handle yer fifteen-step skincare routine and the way yae slept with all the lights on like some sort of serial killer. And yae could say how it would never work because I’m far too handsome and too good of a lover. That the pressure of knowing yae couldnae find better just got to yer head” Campbell teased, wiggling his eyebrows. He longed to get a rise out of her, leaning across the table to see even a glimmer of irritation in Y/N’s eyes. She rolled her eyes, but no wrinkle appeared. Damn, he was losing his touch. He leaned back in his seat and pouted slightly.

Silence stretched out between them as Y/N pretended to sip from a mug that Campbell knew damn well was empty. She was stalling. No more beating around the bush. He had very little to start with, but this game of cat and mouse was wearing on his patience.

“Why did yae choose me for the interview?” Campbell verbally laid his cards out on the table. “Back in the bistro yae said yae didn’t leave by choice. That yae needed MY help. Mine specifically. I wanna know why.”

“Right into it then? Alright.” Y/N said wearily, eyes trained on the table. She rubbed a hand over her face with a sigh, unsure where to start.

“Here’s the truth… a lot happened. I wish I could say it all started with the paps in the park.” Y/N slowly eased into the story as if she were wadding into uncomfortably cold water. Campbell remembers the incident well. Videos of Y/N surrounded by photographers in Central Park, screaming and yelling at them. The clip of her throwing a $12,000 camera to the ground had been inescapable for weeks.

“That thing,” Campbell wasn’t quite sure what the thing she referred to was. “had been building for months… hell years.” Her eyes flicked back and forth as though she was replaying a scene in her mind.

“It’s so exhausting, you know? Living that life. It all seems so exciting at first, all the fancy cars and the famous people and the endless glamour.” She picked at a loose thread on her sweater. “But it wears on you. You begin to realize these people; they all surround themselves with disgusting amounts of wealth to distract from how empty they feel inside.” Y/N’s voice was tinged with a trace of bitterness as she spoke. Her fist tightened around the handle of her empty mug. Campbell wondered if it might crack under her grip.

“Your life just isn’t your own. It becomes its own consumable product. Everything you do is calculated and controlled by people on your own damn payroll.” Should he have started recording before this conversation started? “Where you go, what you do, who you meet, what you eat. All of it, planned down to the last detail. And god forbid you deviate from that plan.” Y/N hissed out the last bit, brows scrunched together, jaw clenched.

At that moment, Campbell felt like he was seeing her for the first time. Not Y/N the popstar, not Y/N the brand, but Y/N the person. She was complicated and messy and bitter. She was utterly human.

Her eyes glazed over as she became aware of just how much she had revealed, just how vulnerable she had been. But that was the point of it all. So why did it bother her so much? Was it that difficult of a story to tell?

“I fell into a really dark place. I felt so out of control, I just lost it. And after everything happened in the park, it just all went to shit. A couple of months later is when…” She paused, eyes tinged with guilt flicking up to meet his. “That was when I started researching you.”

Campbell sucked in a breath. Researching him? What the hell did that mean? Even worse, what did she find?

“What?” He said, unsure of where this was going.

“I don’t know, I was mad at the world. I needed something to latch on to. I was jealous of you. The way you seem to do whatever the hell you like, and everybody loves you!” She spat out the words like they disgusted her. Campbell blinked owlishly at her outburst.

“Well… not everyone.” Campbell attempted to cut the tension, uncomfortable with how deeply serious the conversation had gotten. “There’s always Rodger.”

Y/N leveled a glare at him over the mention of her ex-fiancé. Alright, so maybe there was such a thing as a bad time for humor.

“I don’t know why I thought this was going to work, this was a stupid idea.” Y/N shook her head and started to stand. Surprising them both, Campbell sprung up and grabbed her hand, gripping it tight.

“Dinnae go. It’s not stupid, just sit back down. I’ll be quiet, I promise.” He pleaded with her gently, sinking slowly back into his chair with his hand still wrapped around hers. A silent bid to stay.

Y/N sat back down cautiously. Their hands lingered a beat too long before she pulled hers back into her lap. Campbell’s hand stayed right where it was.

“I thought maybe if I knew more about you, I could figure out… how to be more like you.” Her voice trailed off at the end like she was ashamed of it. Campbell fought the smirk that threatened to take over his features, letting the snide remark die in his throat. He promised to be quiet, and he very much intended to keep that promise.

“There was this article… from a smaller publication in Glasgow. It was from ages ago. But there you were, wearing the goofiest button-up I’d ever seen. You had been DJ-ing at some hospital fair.” Y/N words hung in the air as Campbell’s blood ran cold.

Hardly anyone knew about his past medical history. That part of his life stayed back in Glasgow. His time in St. Jude’s wasn’t something he was ashamed of. Regardless of the potential ramifications it could have on his career. Yet Campbell could never forget the effect that knowledge had on Fergus. What it cost him. What it drove him to do.

“I know about St. Jude’s.” She said finally. Campbell felt his cold blood start to boil. He carried the weight of everything associated with St. Jude’s every day of his life. It was an experience he wasn’t very willing to relive outside of his little family that he found there. The ones that got it.

“So what? Yae found out my deep dark secret and decided what? That yae’d throw me a bone because you pitied me?” Campbell broke his oath of silence.

“Campbell, no-“ Y/N interjected.

“Well, I dinnae need yer stupid pity. I’ll have yae know I am doing quite well by myself.” Campbell felt the anger rise in him with each word that he spoke. “So yae can take yer pity and shove it right up yer arse because I AM NOT ILL.” His voice rose as he stood up.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Y/N pleaded with him, crossing the floor into his space. He huffed as he took a step back.

“I know exactly what yae meant, yae spoiled princess.” Campbell spat. “I’m no charity case.”

“I never said that! You’re not listening to me! Please.” She reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled back as though he’d been burned. “What can I say to make you believe me?”

“Yae cannae say a thing because it’s none of yer business.” He waved his arms indignantly, forcing distance between them. “Yae dinnae know what yer talking about so just shut it.” Anxiety took over him. His head pounding as unpleasant memories came flooding back.

“I know more than you think… I know what happened, Campbell.” Y/N’s voice got notably softer as she spoke. “I know what happened to Fergus.”

That was the final straw.

“GET OUT” Campbell lost the last shred of his composure. “YAE DINNAE GET TO TALK ABOUT HIM”

Y/N stepped back in shock; eyes wide. Without another word, Campbell grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him toward the door. His touch was far gentler than his tone.

“Yae need to leave, yer no longer welcome here.” His nostrils flared as he flung open the front door, ushering her to leave.

“Wait Campbell, please, I wasn’t finished” Y/N pushed against the door as he attempted to close it on her.

“Nae, I think yer quite finished all right.” Campbell attempted to close the door again, she was stronger than she looked.

“Campbell listen!” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes tight like the words pained her. “I got hospitalized.”

He paused, limbs going slack as he processed the words.

“After that day in the park, they had me forcibly hospitalized.” She gathered all the courage she had left to look him in the eyes. Hopefully, he could see the truth in them. Maybe they could communicate something that she wasn’t quite ready to put into words. But the look in his eyes froze her to the spot. The anger had melted away to reveal something much softer. Something akin to understanding. A feeling so unfamiliar to her, that it made her weak at the knees. ‘I was hoping you could understand.’ The words died on her tongue before she could speak them.

Time slowed as they stared at each other. Both feel far more exposed than they were comfortable with. Campbell blinked like he was breaking out of a trance. He cleared his throat and turned his back to the door, walking slowly back to the kitchen. He took a deep breath in and out just like Eddie had shown him all those years ago. The voices in his head got quieter but didn’t fully leave.

“Where are you going?” Y/N called after him, voice thick. Campbell rummaged through the cupboard above his fridge and pulled out a bottle of whisky.

“I figured we were gonna need something stronger than cocoa.”

_________________________________________________

A/N: Have you guys ever heard that saying that if your brain tells you take a break and you ignore it, your body will force you to. that essentially happened to me this week. i had the worst cold but i’m on the up and up now! thank you so much for reading this story and i appreciate all your kindness on my other post about needing a break. love you guys!!! have a good week, you deserve it!! <3 -Ducky

[lestatslestits]

Day 3 of TOTA Takeover, dedicated to Eddie McKenna. He’s such a perfect avatar for the overarching theme of the show: the fine line between being seen as “mad” or “sane” by society, and he brilliantly subverts so many uncomfortable tropes in which characters have to spend their whole arcs learning to treat mentally ill people like human beings.

As a note: I am not Scottish, or even British, and my familiarity with Scottish English as a dialect is passing. I’ve tried very hard to do my research regarding word choice and phrasing, as well as trying to synthesize the show’s dialogue style as effectively as possible. I hope it comes across alright.

Warning: this ficlet contains brief references to suicide, as well as ableism/some ableist language.

“You really mean what you said earlier?” Eddie Mckenna asks in the half-second silence where Campbell pauses for breath for the first time in what feels like twenty minutes. He’s expounding on some bizarre theory about musical genres that Eddie doesn’t quite follow, but that’s either brilliance or lunacy. Or maybe it’s both. Probably it’s both.

“Mean what?” The kid looks half-stunned at being interrupted, as if the question has jarred him out of a trance of some kind.

“That I’m not a patient, but I ought to be.” He keeps his tone purposefully light, but it’s hard not to over-analyze the statement. Sure, he likes the occupants of St. Jude’s well enough, but he’s not sure how to take the statement that he ought to be one.

“Oh, aye!” Campbell’s expression changes to a familiar thousand-watt grin, and his head bobs on his slender shoulders.

“Right, thanks for that.”

“I didnae say it was a bad thing. Non-loonies are boring, but not Ready Eddie Mckenna!” He says the name with such a flourish, waving his hands as though conducting a silent orchestra, that it manages to make Eddie crack a grin in spite of himself.

“Still, it’s no what everyone wants to be told, Campbell.”

“And why not? History’s greats were all loonies!”

“Not all—”

“Ernest Hemingway.”

“Aye—”

“Sylvia Plath—”

“Aye, but—“

Warming to his topic now, the lad crows, “Vincent Van Gogh!”

“Campbell, all of those people topped themselves.”

“Well,” he says as if it’s a minor quibble, “alright, but you’ve got to admit they’re remembered.”

“For topping themselves.”

“Look, I’m no saying to top yourself, just saying that loonies have got home team advantage when it comes to self-expression and making ourselves heard.”

“So you’re calling me a loony for wanting to be a DJ?”

“I’m calling you a loony for selling double-glazing when you’ve got what it takes to be a brilliant DJ!”

“What, insanity?”

“Exactly!” Campbell punches the air in triumph.

“Only clearly I’m no a loony, because I’m no a patient.” He knows it is the wrong thing to say as soon as he says it, but at least when Campbell’s eyebrows arch upwards, it’s in amusement and not offense.

“You’ve met Stuart and you still think all loonies are inside?” He asks, giggling at his own joke. “Apparently I was a loony before I got banged up here, and for certain I’ll be one by the time they decide to let me go. You’re just as mad as me, Eddie.” It’s said with genuine appreciation for the craft of being a stark raving lunatic.

“And you told me once that Nana was as sane as you.” Eddie doesn’t like to think of Nana too much. He still sees her about town, huddled under overhangs, drinking vodka or whiskey to keep warm. He always tries to give her whatever extra cash he’s got in his pockets (never much), and he’s tracked down an English to Latvian dictionary, but it’s slow going.

“Well, she is. She’s just as sane as me and you’re just as loony.”

“That disnae make any sense.”

“I haven’t got to make sense, Eddie. I’m off my head.”

On the topic of madness, Campbell’s been wearing a Cheshire Cat grin throughout the whole conversation, and it makes it impossible for Eddie to tell if he’s joking. He has the uncomfortable feeling that he isn’t. He has the uncomfortable feeling that while he may not be right, he isn’t wrong, either. The lad seems to read his thoughts.

“For what it’s worth, Eddie: I like you as a loony.”

And, because it’s one thing he does know for certain: “I like you too, Campbell.”

[aggsh-shs]

you asked for fic requests do those go here?

anyway, can i request campbell bain x g/n or male reader where reader has a panic attack and campbell helps.

OR one where reader is just sitting around while campbell does a show. chill stuff y’know

those might be awful ideas feel free to ignore this if you want

sorry i’ve never done this before hope these are ok requests

HI THIS IS PERFECT!!

I WROTE THIS FIC TODAY WHILE I WAS IN THE CAR/AT AN AMUSEMENT PARK SO IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS

CAMPBELL BAIN X MALE READER (PANIC ATTACK COMFORT)

cw: panic attacks (obvi)

reader gender: male (he/him)

Room 306 in St. Jude’s mental hospital was assigned to two boys, you, and your boyfriend. He was bipolar while you had generalized anxiety disorder. This led to regular panic attacks when unmedicated

Aforementioned boyfriend, Campbell Bain sat next to you, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders.

He was chatting away, some story about Eddie that you couldn’t hear through the pure adrenaline coursing through your body.

Every breath seemed to come and leave without making it any easier to focus. You’d had a rough day, too many loud sounds and people. They’d lowered your meds recently, which meant it took less to make you anxious.

This was definitely a panic attack.

Campbell’s voice faded out, without you noticing, and his hand transitioned from just holding you to rubbing your back.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle, and you turned from staring dead ahead to do your best to focus on him, “you ok? You’re shaking..”

You swallowed thickly, breathing starting to pick up in pace. It felt like someone was choking you. A few tears rolled down your cheeks, and Campbell immediately moved to wipe them away.

He had this soft look of concern written across his face.

“Woah, you’re ok,” He pulled you close, and even in your nonverbal state you managed to pull together enough sense to bury your head in Campbells chest, “You’re safe. I’m right here.”

He moved you to sit on his lap, leaning up against the headboard of the bed you were sitting on. Campbell slowed his breathing, hoping that you’d follow his example.

You drew in gasps of air, trying desperately not to suffocate. Everything was too much. The lights of the hospital felt blinding, and all the overlapping sounds of talking and air conditioning hums and nurses and music and-

Campbells palms came to rest over your ears, and you reached up your own trembling hands to cover his.

In all honesty he was scared they’d sedate you. He hadn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad in a long time. You shook in his arms, letting out a choked cry as you finally managed to pull in a full breath.

“There we go, that’s my boy,” Campbell brushed his fingers through your hair, mumbling soft words of praise to help you calm down, “You’re safe, i’m right here with you.”

You let out a pathetic whine in response, signaling to Campbell that you were conscious enough to hear him. You felt less like you were being choked now, and it was easier to breathe.

“good boy,” You could feel his heartbeat through his tear stained t-shirt, and you weren’t sure how long it had been since this started but you were glad he stayed, “just keep breathing. Nice deep breaths.”

It took a few more agonizing minutes for you to finally come back all the way, and while you were still a bit shaky, it wasn’t as bad as before.

Campbell watched from your shared bed as you pulled away and stood up, pacing with a hand pressed to your chest to try and calm down fully.

It felt too cramped in his arms. You stumbled every other step, but it was nice to keep moving.

after a minute or two you came back to bed, face red and blotchy but no longer crying.

“You feeling better?” He asked as you sat back down, smiling when he was met with a nod in response.

“Mostly.” You never felt too inclined to speak after panic attacks. It all just felt like too much.

“Good,” Campbell reached out for your hand, squeezing it three times before kissing your forehead, “Can’t have my boy out of commission, we still got a show to do.”

You laughed quietly, more a breath out than an actual sound. The positivity in Campbells voice was infectious.

You curled up in Campbells lap, head laying on his thigh while he stroked your hair.

He didn’t mind staying there while you slept. He’d wake you up when it was time, for now he’d let you rest.

[princeloww]

Hi takin over the asylum fandom

I finished this show a few days ago and have been rapidly consuming everything I could fandom-wise. During this, I read most of the TOTA fanfiction I could find on AO3, and noticed a common pattern.

Writers, non-Scottish, tend to use "Aye", like the characters in the show, yet I've never seen a writer use "Nae". Maybe this is because they aren't too sure of it or how to spell it/correctly use, so I thought I'd explain it a bit if anybody is confused!

Disclaimer - I am not Scottish, but I am from Ireland, so I have a vague idea of some IRISH slang, which isn't too far from some Scottish slang. Feel free to correct me!

"Aye" means yes.

Everyone seems to get this one.

"Aye, but" = "Yes, but"

Simple as that. It doesn't necessarily always work with "yes" subbed in, but it's just an affirmative phrase, really.

It is from Gaelic. Gaelic is a Celtic language that dates back years and years ago. There are different branches (Irish and Scottish Gaelic, for example) that were caused by language spreading through things like trade between countries. Although Gaelic is not typically spoken, it still very much exists and is used in slang in both Scotland and Ireland.

On the opposite side, there is "nae", which means no. It is commonly used attached to can, "cannae", which is the equivalent of "cannot", and is very simple. It just goes in place of cannot.

"You cannae do that", for example, is the same as "You cannot do that", or "You can't do that".

If you want to make sure you're extra familiar with the slang before using it in fanfiction, out of fear of getting it wrong, just listen to examples of how it's used in the show (and its very often) until you're comfortable.

There are a lot more interesting slang terms to learn about, if you're interested in learning more about Scottish culture. (Ex. Dinnae - meaning don't, coming from "dae" meaning do.)

This is just for if you want to accurately copy the way the characters speak! I've seen a lot of writers disclaim that they might be out of character, as they themselves are not Scottish. You of course don't have to use the right slang for your fanfiction, it's still just as good without it, but some people prefer accuracy.

Hope this was semi-helpful! Please get writing fanfiction, I crave more content. Again, feel free to correct me - I don't mean to upset anybody, this post is mostly just for fun.

I've added some links below if you're interested on reading some more!

[r0senkranz]

(Not so new) TOTA/Broadchurch crossover fic!!

[topxmenfan]

Almost done with my tota fic!!! I just plan on going over it again and editing a few things while hopefully adding more descriptive language and all that jazz