#Van McCann fluff

[somethinglikethatyeah83]

Another Husband!Van Post: Part 7

#husband!van #catb #part 7 #van mccann #van mccann fluff

[catb-fics]

I’ve not finished my Valentine’s headcanons yet so here’s my previous Valentine’s fics just in case anyone’s not read them yet… (they are both sfw!)

Valentine’s Suprise

Van surprises you with a special gift on Valentine’s Day

Expectations

Spending Valentine’s Day with Van when you’re heavily pregnant

#catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #fanfic #vanfic #fluff

[thousandfourhundreddays]

Just cleared out my inbox because I wanted a totally fresh start requests wise, so here a reminder that my requests are open!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

#matty healy #van mccann #mason mount #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy fanfic #van mccann imagine #van mccann x reader #van mccann fanfic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #catfish and the bottlemen #the 1975 #van mccann smut #matty healy smut

[your-divine-ribs]

The Christmas Wish Part 1

Words: 2k

Single Dad Van’s kids only have one special wish for Christmas // Christmas fluff // a friends to lovers story 🤍

The Christmas Wish Masterlist Main Masterlist

🤍 Sacha's POV 🤍

"Miss Wilson! Miss Wilson! Ryan just said a bad word!"

"Did not!"

"Yes you did! I heard you! If Santa finds out you've been naughty you won't get any presents, that's what my daddy says!"

"Don't be stupid! Santa's not even real! Aghhhhh!"

"Hey, hey! What's going on over there?" I darted across the classroom just as the tears erupted, sinking down on to my knees on the carpet. I wasn't expecting to see Ryan Carter, the class trouble-maker, in tears. He was normally the cause of any upset, yet here he was, face bright red and blotchy whilst he jabbed an accusing finger at one of his class-mates Grace McCann.

"She kicked me!" He sobbed, finger still outstretched whilst the other hand was wrapped around a reddened shin.

"He said Santa wasn't real!" Grace shot back, her face screwed up in defiance, hands folded across her chest as she stared her class-mate down.

In truth I was glad to see someone stand up to Ryan but I couldn't let my true feelings show. As a primary school teacher I had responsibilities. I was a guiding light to a class full of seven year olds so I couldn't just let casual violence slide, even though a well placed kick to the shins of the class bully was wholly well-deserved. The only trouble was it was the second time Grace had lashed out at him this week. Although she'd swore blind that Ryan had accidentally trapped his finger in his desk drawer after he was making mean comments to one of the other children, I hadn't missed the poorly hidden smirk Grace had worn as he'd howled in pain.

"Grace, is this true? Did you kick Ryan?"

"I did but he deserved it!" The little girl pouted, her cheeks flushed and rosy, her tiny brows pulled into a frown. "If you say you don't believe in Santa out loud it ruins the magic and then he won't come. I was trying to shut him up."

I told myself I shouldn't have favourites.  Every teacher did though, it was only natural. Grace was one of mine. Her feisty demeanour and quick-temper was balanced out by a big heart and a natural effervescence that I couldn't help but warm to. She was the first to volunteer for anything, always eager to help, her bright and enquiring nature usually a delight to teach. It was just situations like this that were becoming more commonplace that had me tearing my hair out. I couldn't brush over it with just a simple telling off this time either, it was against the school rules... and as a newly qualified teacher I had to adhere to them.

"Nobody deserves to be physically hurt no matter what they've done. It's not the way to solve a disagreement. Now we had this very same discussion last week didn't we Grace? And what did I tell you then?"

I spoke with an even tone, trying not to react to the way the little girl's lower lip trembled, her eyes becoming glossy as they flooded with unspilt tears.

"You said that if it happened again you'd have to call my parents," she muttered quietly, now subdued.

"That's right... so it looks like Mr and Mrs McCann are going to be getting a phone call from me then doesn't it?"

God, I hated disciplining the kids. It was the worse part of the job. Difficult but necessary. I thought it might be easier if they were my own children, I wouldn't feel so bad then. Then I'd know for sure if they'd truly been naughty or if they were acting up for another reason. I'd done all the mandatory training courses, learnt all about possible reasons that usually well-behaved kids developed an uncharacteristic disruptive streak. I wondered whether something was going on with Grace, some kind of home trouble that had brought on this atypical aggression. She'd always been feisty and stuck up for herself but this was a whole other level.

"Please Miss Wilson, please don't call them. I'm trying to be good, I really am. I really need Santa to come through for me... especially after what happened last year."

"What happened last year?" I probed, shifting into a sitting position on the carpet. I pulled out a small chair opposite me, patting the seat, urging Grace to sit down. A quick glance up had reassured me that Ellie, my class teaching assistant had everything under control. She was currently comforting Ryan, successfully distracting him with some festive crafts.

Grace pulled a face, conflicted as to whether she should confide in me. She sat down nevertheless, leaning in to whisper even though no one could hear over the background babble of twenty-five children.

"I shouldn't talk about Christmas wishes, it's the rules. It's a secret between me and Santa."

I smiled, recalling my own childish wonder at the magic of Christmas all those years ago. It had been so real back then. Sometimes I thought it was a shame that children had to grow up and turn into skeptical, cynical adults.

"Of course," I said in agreement. "You don't actually have to tell me the wish you made, but did anything bad happen?"

Grace's face fell as she focused on an obviously painful memory.

"It was just before last Christmas that mummy and daddy started fighting. I tried... I tried really hard to be good. I asked Santa to make them love each other again but it didn't work." Her eyes widened at once and she slapped a hand over her mouth with a gasp, horrified that she'd just let out the secret wish and broken her own rules. "I shouldn't have said!"

"It's okay," I tried to placate her, placing a reassuring hand on her forearm. "I won't say anything, don't worry. I'm guessing your wish didn't come true?"

It was all starting to fall into place now, the reason for Grace's outbursts, her erratic behaviour... it's just the timing was off. She'd seemed much more carefree at the beginning of the school year and that was September. Maybe something else was the cause.

"Uh-huh," she nodded in dismal confirmation. "I think Santa didn't give me my wish because I was naughty, I just don't know what I did wrong. I thought it might be different this year... if I was really good..."

"You wished for the same thing again?"

My heart ached for the little girl before me. All of a sudden I was twelve years old again, sitting on the floor in my bedroom with my back pressed against the door, my headphones on with the volume turned up as loud as my ears could stand it to drown out the sound of my own parents arguing viciously. I'd been older than Grace but it didn't make it any easier seeing the two people I loved the most in the world falling out of love.

Grace sighed. "No, it's a different wish this year, but I can't say." She mimed pulling a zip across her mouth. "It'd be silly to wish for the same thing again. Mummy and daddy aren't getting back together, I know that now. Mummy's got a new boyfriend, see."

"And what's he like?" I enquired, watching her closely, relieved when she broke into a smile.

"He's nice... but he's not daddy... no one's as nice as daddy."

I smiled back as her grin grew until her whole face lit up, her blue eyes sparkling. "He's a rockstar you know, he's super famous and he plays the guitar and he sings really good. He has loads of fans. Everyone loves him."

"I remember you telling me about him."

I thought back to 'show and tell' at the start of term, Grace proudly bringing in a CD so she could show the class her dad's music. She'd instructed me to play a track called Hourglass because her mum and dad had penned the lyrics together. She'd told me it was a love song so I assumed it'd be safe to play. I sniggered internally when I recalled how I'd had to dive across the classroom to switch the music off after Grace's dad dropped an F bomb exactly 22 seconds into the song. I probably should have checked it out first before playing it to a classroom full of innocent seven year olds really. The fact that the album cover had featured a cartoon drawing of a couple with their hands shoved down each other's trousers should have probably given me cause for concern.

Grace's smile faded fast to be replaced by a glum expression. "He's the best... but I guess mummy doesn't think that anymore. She told him he loved the band more than her. She even said it was more important to him than me and my little brother! I don't think I was supposed to hear that but I did."

I wished I could have said something to make it all better for her but I knew that I couldn't. Not right now when the pain was still raw. It would get better though, I knew from experience that the age-old adage of time being a great healer was actually true. I just hoped that her parents were mindful of their children whilst they navigated the stormy waters of their breakup. Mine hadn't been and the scars still lingered, even all those years later. I made a mental note to discuss Grace's worries with either Mr or Mrs McCann, whichever one I ended up seeing to discuss their daughter's behaviour.

"I'm sure that's not true," I tried to reassure her. "Look Grace, grown ups say things they don't mean all the time, especially when they're mad at each other. I know it's hard to understand but sometimes people fall out of love and it's nobody's fault. Sometimes things just don't feel the same anymore. No one can fix it, not even Santa."

Grace's bottom lip started trembling again, her hands balling into fists in her lap. "But what if mummy and daddy stop loving me and Leo? What are we gonna do then? If they know I've been naughty they'll be so mad at me!"

Oh shit... I'd been trying to reassure her but now she looked even more upset. I floundered for a second but quickly recovered, reaching out for her hands and taking them in mine.

"Your mummy and daddy love you and your brother very much. You're probably the most important things in their lives... in fact scrap probably... you are the most important things. I know you are!"

"Really?"

Grace looked up at me from under her long lashes, eyes wide and hopeful.

I tipped her a little wink. "Yes really... Santa even told me so."

"You... you mean you actually know Santa?" She asked in astonishment, sitting forward on the edge of the seat. I allowed a knowing smirk to curve my lips, secretive.

"Oh yeah, I have a direct line to Santa, all the teachers do. It's not just mummies and daddies that tell Santa who should be on the nice list."

I watched Grace's mouth fall slack as she stared at me for a second, then she was glancing around surreptitiously at her classmates like I'd just entrusted her with the most confidential top secret knowledge. I grinned at her, pressing my index finger against my lips and she nodded quickly before slipping down off the seat and rushing to take a seat at her desk.

A small sigh of relief escaped me as I rose up on to my feet.

"Oh my god Sacha, I can't believe you used the old 'be good, Santa's watching' trick. I thought it was only parents that were allowed to use that one!"

Ellie was beside me, nudging me with an elbow, grinning and shaking her head.

"Don't judge me," I laughed, pleased to see Grace with her head in her reading book, carefully following the text with a finger. She usually didn't have the patience for reading on her own. "I don't think I'll be getting any more trouble from Grace McCann this side of Christmas."

Little did I know, this was only the start of it...

#the christmas wish #dad van #van mccann fanfic #au fanfic #vanfic

[tractorbeamofwoe]

Y/N is also a musician and returns home to Van after months of touring. Pretty fluffy.

A/N: my first Van fic in a while and it’s a long one! ❤️❤️

Word count: 1554

~~~ 10 notifications and missed calls from Van and you felt slightly guilty as you sat silently in the back of a taxi. You were getting a ride back home from the airport with your manager, Daisy, who was sat in the passenger seat in front of you. She turned around for a moment and gave you a reassuring smile, which didn't do much to calm your nerves but made you even more excited for what was about to happen.

You'd told her a few days ago about your plan to surprise Van, who was waiting at home for you probably bored out of his mind. He'd specially requested management that the band have a couple months break between their UK tour and their USA tour, so you could go out and do your thing. It was incredibly sweet of him to do, but it meant you hadn't spent much time together since you headed off only a day or two after he had come home.

The last day of tour was always your favourite and when you heard the familiar sound of keys in the door it was like all your christmases had come at once. Every tour you tell yourself to wait for him to come to you, but you always break your promise and drop whatever you're doing to race over to him and give him a hug that he swears gets tighter every year.

This was only your second tour, and it was the first tour you'd been on since you started dating Van. You weren't sure how he was going to react but it still set off those butterflies in your stomach. You found yourself biting your nails and you had to pull your hand away before you made them hurt.

You had a text from Larry at some point, pondering whether to tell him your plans or not but you decided to ignore his message instead because you couldn't trust him to not tell Van. Van, on the other hand, had stopped messaging ages ago and since it was the early hours of the morning you worried he might have fallen asleep and wouldn't notice you walking through the house until you crawled into bed and curled up next to him.

Daisy did the majority of the talking to the driver, managing to convince him to put the radio on. You didn't particularly like any of the songs that were playing, until you heard your own voice and tried to suppress an awkward giggle. Daisy was grinning at you, saying something along the lines of "isn't that mad? After playing those songs live for so long I forget how the actual recording sounds!" Which prompted a snort from the driver before they struck up a conversation again.

You felt your phone buzz once more in your pocket, and this time you shuffled around in your seat to pull your phone out of your pocket and check.

Van

Just heard you on the radio x

Proud of you x

It was then that you suddenly clocked just how close you were to home. You saw the supermarket as you sped past, followed by the annoying roundabout Van always complained about every time he drove somewhere. You knew the bumps and pot holes in the road were coming up and you braced yourself. You'd never been so glad to hit your head on the ceiling of the car. Another roundabout and you could see the local school. You recited the directions in your head. A left turn, down the hill, two right turns, one more left turn and just like that you were pulling into your street.

You'd asked to be dropped a few houses down, so that Van wouldn't hear the car pulling up outside, not that he'd hear anyway over the music he was probably blasting. Daisy helped you manoeuvre your bags to the front door before she got hopped back into the car, her house still another 20 minutes away. You said your goodbyes and then you were on your own.

You slowly pushed the door open, relieved that Van had left it unlocked for you, and you took a deep breath. You could hear the TV was on in the living room and you nearly screamed when you heard Van call out to you.

"Oi Larry, Y/N's not home yet but the kettle's on if you fancy a cuppa."

You shrugged your coat off and hung it up by the door. You heard Van pause the TV when you didn't answer him, revealing yourself a few moments later as you poked your head around the doorframe.

"Shit Y/N, what you doing here! Come on, give me a hug." He exclaimed, voice going all high pitched with excitement as he held his arms out and squeezed you in a bear hug, stepping back and looking you up and down as like he was struggling to process that you were really there in front of him.

"I'm coming home to you, silly! I've missed you." Your voice was muffled as he pulled you back in for another, more gentle hug and your face was squished against his chest.

"Missed me? You were ignoring all my texts! I thought you'd binned me off or something." Van pouted, which prompted you to lean up on your tiptoes and give him a reassuring kiss on the cheek. After that, he put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you down onto the sofa with him. The pair of you were clumsy enough to trip and fall so Van was now on top of you and you were struggling to contain your laughter.

"I wanted to surprise you, that's all. You're so cute when you get excited about stuff, you know that?" You managed to get out in between chuckles. "Careful you don't squeeze me so hard you'll bruise my arms, bloody hell." You then warned, wriggling around trying to get comfortable.

"Stop fidgeting then and let me just cuddle you, love! We haven't seen each other for two months I'm touch starved aren't I?" He grinned, waiting for you to make some remark about him inviting Larry over to keep the bed warm but instead you just whined.

"Yeah but I'm all gross, at least let me have a shower first." You complained. Van took a while to consider whether letting you go was a good idea or not, but eventually he gave in and climbed off you.

"Long as you promise to tell me all your stories afterwards though." He called as you darted up the stairs, knowing the quicker you showered the quicker you could be back in his arms again.

Normally you'd complain about the shower because it turned cold every time someone turned on a tap elsewhere in the house or flushed a toilet, but today it felt like home. The lads had pranked you with it a few times and it usually ended in them getting sprayed with the shower head when they weren't expecting it. You'd been put off using the coffee machine too, since they started adding excessive amounts of salt to your drinks when you weren't looking and then you'd respond by giving them warm beers that had been left out of the fridge for a day or two. Needless to say, there was never a dull moment in your house and you definitely missed that while on tour.

You got out and dried yourself, even savouring the feeling of the shower mat under your feet and the fogged up mirror, half assedly drying your hair with the hair dryer and rushing out of the bathroom. All your good clothes were still in your suitcase but you'd left behind some of your jumpers and jogging bottoms which you pulled on almost effortlessly.

"Feeling better now, love?" Van asked, slightly startled by you practically throwing yourself at him as you reached the bottom of the stairs. It was your turn to pull him back down onto the sofa this time laying with your head on his lap.

"Loads. You're right, touring does kinda suck sometimes." You sighed, eyes closed as you relaxed completely in his presence. This earned a chuckle from Van and he muttered a little 'I know' in response. While it was true you did miss the silly moments, you also missed those small intimate moments.

You heard him turn down the volume on the TV before asking "so do you want a brew? I meant to ask earlier." but you shook your head and looked up at him, a smile creeping onto your face.

"Mmm no, can we just lie here for a bit instead?" It was just now hitting you how tired you were and your voice was almost a whisper. Van was more than happy to oblige, remembering the countless times you'd fallen asleep on him and even though his arms had lost their feeling he refused to move and disturb you.

"We sure can." He whispered back, shuffling to make himself comfortable knowing he'd be there for a while. He had one last thing to do though, and he picked up his phone from the arm of the chair, typing a quick message.

Larry

She's home mate

Try and be quiet when you come over though cos she's asleep...

#Catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #vanfic #Catfish and the bottlemen fluff #Catfish and the bottlemen fic #Van McCann fluff

[lovely-van]

rainy sunday

word count: 1300

notes: just a little fluff i wrote because it’s been raining for like three days straight where i live and i was inspired by that. i’m going to try to work on some requests soon so keep an eye out for those :)

“Baby, wake up.” 

Van groaned loudly, mumbling something incoherent, and buried his head further into your neck. You laughed softly, rubbing up and down his bare back slowly, fingers dipping over his spine. “Vaaan,” you sang, “it’s already noon. We should get up.” 

The window in your bedroom was cracked and soft sounds of the rain pattering outside flowed in and spread throughout the room. Van mumbled something else but didn’t move. You brought your hands to his hair, dragging your fingers through the tangles and scratching his scalp. He sighed softly, clearly asleep still. 

It didn’t surprise you that he was still sleeping - the boy could sleep through an earthquake truthfully. He had a habit of staying up much later than the average person, usually strumming on his guitar in the living room or reading a book while you snoozed next to him in bed. You thought you were a night owl, never going to bed before midnight, until you met Van. Often, if you had an early shift, you’d wake to the sound of your alarm and roll over to see his sleepy eyes staring back at you, a tired smile on his lips. “Did you sleep?” you’d ask and he’d shake his head, setting down his notebook and pull you close to him for a moment, feeling your warmth until you had to get ready for the day. When he eventually did fall asleep, he’d be out like a log, not moving an inch until you woke him up, usually. 

You smoothed his hair back, pushing it off his forehead carefully and looked over his face, cheeks rosy from sleep, purple under eye circles evident on his porcelain skin, pink lips parted as he snored lightly. He was a work of art, a combination of sharp angles and soft curves covered by a landscape of colors. Freckles dusted across his nose like constellations in the sky on a clear night, the curl of his eyelashes shooting out onto his cheeks like a meteor. 

You brought a hand up to his face, dragging your thumb across his chapped bottom lip. “Baby,” you mumbled. “Love.”

Van hummed against your skin, shifting slightly. “What?” he mumbled, his voice muffled. 

“Wake uuup, please,” you whispered, scratching your nails down his back. Van groaned softly. He was such a pain to wake up in the mornings. 

“Have to?”

“It’s late, the day’s wasting away,” you said with a soft laugh, poking his cheek. 

“Fuck the day,” he mumbled. He leaned back a little, just enough so he could look at you with squinty eyes. “Wanna go back to bed.”

You chuckled, bringing your hand up to his face and stroking your thumb across his cheek. “But it’s late and we have stuff to do today.”

Van stretched dramatically, joints popping before rubbing his eyes. “Don’t wanna do stuff,” he muttered, resting his head in your shoulder. 

You moved your hand back to his hair, his eyes fluttering shut when you started scratching his scalp again. “Baby, you’re killing me.”

“Honestly though, think we should just stay in bed all day. It’s fuckin’ raining and shitty outside and I just wanna cuddle you. We can get our shit done tomorrow, yeah?” Van suggested, voice still scratchy as he opened his eyes again to look up at you through those long eyelashes. 

“You’re serious?” you asked softly with a little smile. He nodded, lips curling up to return your smile. 

“Mhm. Just you and me, here, all day.”

You nodded, unable to resist him of course. You leaned down and kissed him softly, all chapped lips and smiles. Van shifted, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you gently so you’d move to straddle him. He sighed into the kiss before pulling away, your foreheads pressed together. His hands lazily moved up and down your body, fingers tracing over every curve and dip. “You’re a bad influence,” you said with a small smile. 

He shook his head, crooked grin painting across his face. “Me? How?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “There were so many errands I wanted to do today and now I’m not gonna do anything.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tight to him, your head resting on his chest. You could feel every beat of his heart as he reached up and stroked your hair softly, smoothing it down and tucking a piece behind your ear. “I think this is better,” he mumbled. 

The rain was coming down even harder, thunder sure to start at any moment. Sure, you had a lot to do for the day - grocery shopping, bills, that kind of thing. But here was Van, begging you to stay cuddled up in bed with him all day? There was no way you could turn that one down. 

“I love you,” you mumbled, tilting your head up to look at him. He smiled lazily, eyes full of sleep still, and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. 

“And I love you,” Van said softly, eyes shining when he pulled away, hands running up and down your back. His hair was a mess, sticking up at every angle, his under eye bags probably getting larger every second, the lack of sleep over the past few months clearly catching up to him. But God, he looked like he belonged in The fucking Louvre. 

“Ooh, we can order takeout later,” you said after a moment, grinning at Van. 

“Mhm, great idea,” he replied softly, yawning and running one hand up and down your thigh and the other pushing your hair off your shoulder. “But who’s gonna make the tea?”

You groaned, flopping your head back down on his chest. He chuckled, scratching your back gently, making goosebumps rise up on your skin. “I’d do it but you’re on top of me, love,” he muttered in your ear. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it.” You pulled yourself away from Van, searching for his sweatshirt to throw on so you wouldn’t be walking through the freezing house naked. 

“You look quite beautiful this morning, y’know.” You glanced over at Van still on the bed after pulling the hoodie over your head. He was lying on his back, blankets pulled up to his chin, a tired smile on his lips. 

“So do you,” you replied honestly, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. You slipped out of the bedroom and hurried down the steps to the kitchen. You flipped the kettle on and pulled out both you and Van’s favorite mugs.

A crack of thunder sounded outside and you jumped slightly, nearly dropping the kettle as you poured the water. “Jesus.”

You sped through the house as quickly as you could, careful not to spill any tea as you climbed the stairs. 

When you pushed the door open with your hip, you looked up to see Van curled  up in bed, facing you. He reached his arms out and made small grabby hands at you. “C’mere,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the blankets. 

You set the mugs down, sliding in next to him as he lifted the blankets over you both. You wrapped your arms and legs around him tightly, burying your head into his chest, breathing him in. He held you close, one hand stroking your hair gently as he hummed. “Gone too long,” he whispered. 

You laughed into his chest softly. “Missed me, yeah? In those five minutes?” you asked in a muffled voice. 

Van reached down and kissed the top of your head. “I always miss you, love,” he replied. “Doesn’t matter if it’s only ten seconds. Always miss you because I fucking love you.”

The thunder continued outside and you figured you had a few missed phone calls and emails you could attend to, that there were things to be done before the wedding in a few months. But you didn’t care about any of that because it was Sunday and it was raining and all you cared about was Van. 

#vanfic #van mccann #van mccann fanfic #van mccann fluff #fluff #catb fanfic #my fic #van fluff

[vangoddamn]

Sleepover

Requested staying over at teen van’s house for the first time, nonny ILY <3

Warnings: Pure Cute n’ fluffy Van

You’d been going out officially for a few months, meaning this probably would’ve happened sooner or later anyway. But when your parents announced, in front of Van, they were going away for a couple of days, Van decided you would stay at his. Of course, your heart broke a little when he suggested it and was secretly glad you wouldn’t be home alone all weekend, but you were nervous. 

You’d never really even had a boyfriend before Van, never mind stayed over, so you really didn’t know what to expect or what to compare it too. Should you wear cute pyjamas, or just the usual sleep shirt. Should you take multiple spare clothes depending on if you went on a walk. Should you take a tampon just in case you spontaneously start your period even though you’re on the pill. Your head was spinning with all the possible questions which formed in your overly anxious head. 

After a while of putting things in and out of your bag and a phone call with your best friend, you decided to stop overthinking things (or at least try to) and do what you would if you were going to your mates. You packed your small backpack and got dressed into something a little less ‘sofa chic’ and more ‘meeting the parents’, you’d met Mary and Bernie before but only in passing or for a small chat. At the end of the day you knew Van or his parents wouldn’t care what you did and you knew Van would probably laugh if he knew how much you were overthinking things.

A text from a worried Van and checking the time, realising you should’ve arrived at least 20 minutes ago, rushed you out the house, double-checking the locks and hurrying over to him. He didn’t live far away, then again no-one was ever far away in Llandudno. You passed colourful houses, row after row, through little short cut passages and ally ways where you and Van would steal time. You both had found little ways of escaping friends, being these little nooks where you’d share secret rendezvous.

Before you knew it, you were nervously knocking on the front door of your boyfriends family home. Van opened the door not long after with an excitable and cheeky look about him. You couldn’t help but feel a warm fizzing inside when he took your bag and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“there y’are, mum was gettin well worried” He chuckled, taking your hand and pulling you inside for a warm cosy hug, a contrast to the brisk salty air outside.

“Sorry y/f/n called” You mumbled into his chest, trying to hide the fact you were just having a nervous breakdown, at the same time breathing his familiar scent in.

After a well-needed hug, he turned you to face his house. It was slightly familiar to when you’d both sneak in when it was empty, getting up to no good and hiding from various things you didn’t want to face. But now the familiar corridor leading into the kitchen where his parents inevitably were made your knees wobble in apprehension.

Pushing you forward with a kiss to the cheek and a giggle, Van shuffled you through to the kitchen, arms wrapped around your middle. Maybe it was so you couldn’t run away or faint from nerves but it was comforting none the less.

“Y/n!” Mary cooed, pulling you from your boyfriends' arms into a motherly hug of her own. “Was worried about you weren’t we Bernard” She called out to her husband, who was sitting idly inspecting the cover of some random record, only looking up to give you a knowing smile shaking his head and going back to the cover.

“Sorry my friend called and I lost track of time” You explained, easing into conversation with Mary as if you’d known her forever whilst Van found himself back behind you, arms wrapped tight around your waist.

Mary, like Van, was easy to slip into a comforting schedule, it made you instantly calm whenever you spoke. You helped her fix everyone a tea or at this time in the day dinner. Helping her in the kitchen you realised was one of your favourite things, she’d teach you things you may never have learnt and always spoke in such a calm manner it seeped into you. 

She had decided to cook a proper roast dinner, Roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes, the lot. And soon enough, with your help, it was ready and she was serving it out to you all around the table. The smells were incredible, homely and comforting. You sat next to Van who had his hand on your knee, circling patterns, before having to replace it for his knife. 

“Thanks, Mary” You smiled at her from across the table.

“Thank you y/n for helping me, can never get these two to lift a bloody finger!” She chuckled back giving eyes at Van who was trying to defend himself badly.

Dinner went quickly, you found it easy to talk to Van's parents and the food was incredible! You probably talked about everything under the sun. From if you had plans to do anything tomorrow, to where do you think you’re going to go to Uni.

Ultimately, you all ended up in the lounge. You snuggled into Vans side on one of the sofas as he and Bernie went through a collection of old vinyl. Mary was busy washing up, and so you decided you’d go and help. Leaving your boyfriend with his collection of records.

“Hi Mary, would you like any help?” You wondered out loud as you shuffled into the kitchen. She was by the sink with a soft smile, tilting her head to signal you to come over.

“You can come round more often dear” She smiled before explaining how you could help her with the drying up. It was nice, just talking absentmindedly whilst cleaning the kitchen, almost as if you had always done it together.

It was dark outside now, as Mary drew the curtains closed, the warm lights in the kitchen creating a cosy orange hue. The sudden realisation how late it had gotten made you breathe in a deep yawn, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake them up.

"I'm sure Van wouldn't mind if you went up to bed lovely" Mary softly whispered, a kind smile upon her face.

With that suggestion, you poked your head through to the living room wishing good night to your boyfriend's parents. Van promised he'd be up in a second making you laugh inside knowing he'd probably spend hours playing records with his dad if he could.

The stairs up to Vans creaked slightly, showing the age of the old seafront home. Picture frames lined the walls, photos of Van and his family, warming your heart.

His room was fairly small but definitely recognisable as Vans. Posters lined the white walls, bands you only recognized from Bernie's record cabinet. Records lay in little piles, you could imagine he'd have little mental notes of why they were there. A rather disdained or well-loved looking acoustic guitar sat on his bed next to a leather-bound notebook you knew as his lyric book.

You moved to the corner of the room where his wardrobe was, finding a hoodie you could steal. You got out of your clothes changing into the shorts you'd packed and left your t-shirt for his hoodie instead. Finally, you popped some of your favourite fluffy socks on and sat on the end of his bed.

You didn't quite know what you should've done, you felt odd, alone in his room. Curing your strange feeling by picking up the abandoned guitar, making your way across the strings, creating a soft little tune.

Before you knew it Van was staring at you from his door frame a lazy smile on his face. He looked just as tired as you but you knew he'd never admit it, never really getting sleep and usually giving it up for his guitar. You placed it down, walking towards him and snaking your arms around his waist. Looking up at him you explored the ocean of his blue eyes map of freckles before placing a soft kiss to his lips. You could feel his smile on your lips, pulling him through the door, laughing when he kicked the door closed behind him. You now had your hands holding onto the front of his t-shirt smiling up at him.

"I see you're already for bed" he chuckled noticing his hoody which hung loosely off your body, covering the shorts that had ridden up.

"I'm tired"

"come on then" he smiled taking your hand nodding to his bed you had been sitting on before he'd found you.

"Van" you giggled stopping him from jumping into bed. "You're still in your jeans you idiot"

"pff, wantin me to strip off already" he teased poking your ribs making you bend over in fits of giggles.

"Vannn" you whined prying his fingers from your waste, moving your hands to his chest, palms mapping out his body. You leant in placing a kiss to his neck, feeling him take a breath in. Your hands slowly moved to the hem of his t-shirt lifting it up gradually revealing his skinny frame.

His arms lifted, helping you remove his shirt with ease. His skin was warm and soft against your hands, you couldn't help but smile. Your hands trailed up his arms, palms caressing up his neck.

"you look sleepy" you whispered, fingers tracing the bags under his eyes.

He took your hand, kissing the back of it and placing back by your side. He went to unbuckle his belt removing his tight black jeans, now only in his boxers.

"come on love" he whispered surprising you by lifting you up and placing you carefully down on the bed in the corner of his room. You smiled up at him as he joined you snuggling up under the covers after turning off the dim light. He pulled you into his arms, in the dark, wrapping himself around your body breathing you in.

It was easy to forget about the nerves you had earlier that day in his arms. And even easier to forget why you had been, Van's easy personality seeping into you.

You turned to face him, resting your chin in the nook of his neck and wrapping your arms around him.

"Night Van"

"Sleep tight love" and you had no doubt you would.

A/n- Hi huns, how we all doin then? Quarantines still draggin on and I’ve just got some shifts back at work, who knew it could be so tiring?! eek that’s why I didn’t post on time last week but I promise will be back to weekly Van content soooon! Hope y’all survivng out there xx Em

#catfish and the bottlemen #catfish #van mccann #catb #fluff #van #fanfiction #mccann #vanfic #van mccann x reader #van mccann fanfic #van mccan fic #van McCann x reader #catfish and the bottlemen fanfic #catfish and the bottlemen x reader

[lovely-van2]

white - van mccann

a little wedding fluff for you all :) 

request: you’ve gottttttttaaaa do a wedding van!! maybe just cute little things like pre-wedding nerves/cold feet but he can’t see his fiancé before the ceremony so he calls her or holds her hand through the door to calm him down or like they sneak off during the reception to smoke together etc etc etc

word count: 2k

warnings: language

White was never your color. 

You thought it washed you out and somehow gave you the appearance of being even paler than you already were. You usually stuck to darker colors. You never could go wrong with all black, right?

But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option today. 

“You look beautiful,” your mother said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. All of your bridesmaids murmured their agreements, waving frantically at their eyes so their mascara wouldn’t smear. 

“Thank you,” you said, swallowing. Your hands shook as you smoothed down the fabric of the dress. You felt like you hadn’t breathed properly in days, like there was a weight on your chest, pressing you down in a way entirely unfamiliar to you. 

You stepped away from the mirror and grabbed your purse. “Be right back,” you said, forcing a smile. 

You slid out the back door and leaned your head against the brick, trying not to let your veil shift too much. You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes. 

Holy shit. You’re getting fucking married today. 

Your wedding day wasn’t something you’d dreamed of your whole life like a lot of people. You had always been a little bit of a commitment-phobe, honestly. As a little girl, you didn’t spend hours fantasizing about your dress or the flowers or any of that. You weren’t even sure you ever wanted to get married until you met Van. 

Lovely, magnificent, wonderful Van. Van who cried when you said ‘yes’ to his proposal and told you he couldn’t believe he’d gotten this lucky. 

Yeah, like he was the lucky one. 

You knew after your second date that you wanted to marry him. 

When you called your mother after Van had walked you home that night, dropping a quick kiss on your lips at your door - then another, and a few more before he finally dragged himself away, a dopey smile on his face - she couldn’t believe it. 

“You’re in love? You want to get married? To who?” she’d said. You tried to explain your situation, cheeks rosy and a childish grin on your face but you were so fucking giddy you could barely speak. She didn’t understand until she finally met him months later. After that, it seemed like she loved him even more than you did. 

You lasted a whole six months of dating before you brought it up to Van. 

“How do you feel about… marriage?” you asked one rainy day while cuddled up in bed, still naked and covered up with a pile of blankets. 

He pulled you tight to him and dropped a kiss on your forehead, hand rubbing over your back. “Can’t wait to get married. Wanna have a million kids and a dog running around and one of those old houses with a big backyard. And a fireplace, definitely. Y’know, maybe two or three dogs would be even better. Wanna have a cute little fence around the whole thing, nice old neighbors who bring you a dish when you move in, all that.” 

You laughed into his chest. “I see you have your whole life planned out already.”

Van tilted your head back, thumb brushing over your cheek, giving you that little crooked smile. “Well, I was hoping it would be our life.”

He proposed three months after that. 

You dug around in your purse, desperately in need of a cigarette to calm you down. Yeah, you were trying to quit but that didn’t matter at the moment. You found the pack finally and flipped it open only to reveal that it was empty. “Shit,” you muttered. 

You exchanged the empty pack for your phone, pressing it against your ear and letting it ring, tossing your now useless purse to the ground. 

“Hi, love. Everything okay?” You sighed at the sound of his voice, comforting as always. 

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m just kind of freaked out right now,” you said with a laugh. 

He chuckled. “I shouldn’t be worried, right? Not gonna walk out on me, are ya?”

“Y’know, I thought about it for a second but then I remembered how much we paid for this and I thought, eh, better not.”

“Smart with money. Exactly why I’m marrying you,” he said, his grin apparent even through the phone. You were silent, just listening to him breathe for a moment, letting it relax you. “You sure you’re okay, darlin’?”

“Mhm. I just really need a fucking cigarette,” you groaned. “But I don’t have any. Wait… I might be marrying someone in a few hours who could spare me one.” 

“Don’t think I’m allowed to see you before this thing starts, am I?”

“Guess not. But will you at least come outside and bring me one?”

Within a few minutes, you heard the scrape of footsteps around the corner of the building. “You out here, love?”

“Yeah, I’m here, right around the corner.” You could see only his feet, those old dress shoes that you’d begged him not to wear today as he leaned against the brick. You pressed your back against the building, gaze fixed on his feet, just thankful to be near him, even if you couldn’t actually look at his face. 

“Don’t you dare let me see ya. I wanna be surprised,” he said with a laugh. 

“I won’t,” you replied with a sigh.

“Bit nervous, huh?” Van asked quietly, kicking a rock in front of him. 

You closed your eyes, taking a breath. “I don’t even know if it’s nerves or what because I’m so excited, too. I’m fucking marrying you. I’ve been waiting for this day for literally years. But yeah, just been a bit jittery and stuff all day.” 

He was quiet for a moment. “It’s okay, darling. I think it’s normal to feel like this on your wedding day, honestly. But I’m so happy that it’s finally happening. You’re gonna be my fuckin’ wife,” he said, laughing like he couldn’t believe it. “Missed you in bed last night. Couldn’t sleep without ya.”

“God, I love you,” you mumbled, a smile etching its way onto your face.

“You just saying that because I got a ciggy here for you?”

“You know me too well,” you replied with a soft laugh. 

“Speaking of that… gimme your hand.” You reached your hand around the corner and watched as his hand met yours, pressing a cigarette and lighter into your palm and closing your fingers around the small items. You took them from him gratefully, putting the cigarette in your mouth and lighting it quickly, putting your hand out in front of him and wriggling your fingers. He laughed and grabbed your hand again. You took a few long pulls, leaning your head back and exhaling the smoke as you intertwined your fingers with his calloused ones. You wondered if this hand, the same one that had wiped your tears when you were upset and rubbed your stomach when you had cramps countless times, would still feel the same after you were married.

He stroked his thumb across the back of your hand and you figured it would probably feel even better when he was your husband - especially considering there would be a wedding ring on his finger. 

“So you’re really not nervous?” you asked, finishing up the cigarette and dropping it to the ground, smushing it with the toe of your shoe that was probably way too expensive to even be near a cigarette butt. 

“You kidding me? Course I’m nervous. Had this fuckin’ weird feeling in my stomach all day. But every time I start getting a little too panicky, I just keep thinking of the first time you told me you loved me for some reason,” he replied with a chuckle. 

You tilted your head back and laughed, remembering how embarrassed you’d been. 

It was New Years Eve, a few months after you started dating and you were at one of his friend’s houses for a party. It was nearing midnight and you were quite drunk but Van was nowhere to be found. You stumbled through the house, dodging people who were even drunker than you and trying not to get spilled on. You looked down at your watch and saw it was 11:58. Fuck, where is he? Of course you had to kiss him at midnight. It would be your first ever real New Year’s Kiss, after all. 

You blinked a few times, peering around the packed living room. People were starting to congregate with their respective lovers, drunken grins spread across their faces and wandering hands. It was when they started counting down from 10 that you saw him across the room. He was mirroring your actions, searching for you, too. 

“Van!” you’d yelled excitedly, waving at him and weaving through all the people. You nearly fell on top of him when you reached him, his hands grabbing your waist to steady you.

“Thought I’d never find ya,” he said, his eyes shining, smiling bigger than ever. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes, forehead pressed against his. “Three… two… one.” And your lips were on his, smiling so hard against his mouth you could barely kiss and people were cheering around you and goddamn it, you’d never felt happier in your life. Everything around you disappeared and you just couldn’t stop kissing him, even when someone behind you bumped into you and even when someone next to you stepped on your foot. 

You pulled away, breathless, after a few moments. He was saying something about the bathroom but you couldn’t even hear him, light headed and absolutely buzzing. He stroked your arm for a second and moved past you. You turned and watched him step around a few people, patting a few on the back.

“I love you, Van McCann!” you yelled at him, clapping a hand over your mouth after you did it. People turned and looked at you, a little surprised at your rather loud outburst as the music had paused momentarily after midnight struck but none of it mattered when you saw the expression on his face when he turned around to look at you. He walked back to you slowly, lips curled up in a grin.

“You what?” he asked incredulously. 

You took a deep breath and stared at him, right into those eyes that you’d fallen for the moment you first saw him. “I love you,” you said softly. 

He pulled you for a kiss even more dizzying than the one you’d shared at midnight, one that made your knees go weak and your stomach drop. “I love you,” he said against your lips, not caring that you were in the middle of a crowd of people, not caring that it had only been just over two months since your first date. And you didn’t care if maybe it was too soon to say it because you were both a little drunk and it was a new year and you were in love. 

“God, that feels like ages ago,” you said, squeezing Van’s hand. 

“It does, yeah. I still get that same feeling every time you say you love me, y’know, just like it’s the first time,” he said softly. 

You tilted your head back and laughed to yourself in disbelief. What did you do to deserve this man? This man who made you (awful-tasting) soup when you were ill and kissed you only to get sick two days later from it, and who hand wrote you letters when he was off recording, spraying his cologne on the paper so it would smell like him, and who canceled the end of the tour to come be with you when your father got sick. 

God, you loved him. 

“So, what do ya think? Feeling better now?”

“Much better. I love you, so, so much.” 

“And I love you, darling. See you up there, yeah? Gonna bawl my fuckin’ eyes out in front of everyone,” Van said with a chuckle. 

“I can’t wait.”

#vanfic #van mccann #catb fanfic #van fluff #fanfic #my fic #catb #van mccann fanfic #van mccann x reader #van mccann fanfiction #catb fanfiction #this is cute i enjoyed writing it :')

[sounds-like-humpty-dumpty]

Fuck ‘em

Summary: Reader is plagued by self-doubt. Van tries to convince her of the opposite. 

Fluff (?), Van x Reader

One Shot

He came home. Tired. Drained of energy. But happy to spend the rest of the evening with her. 

He had been standing and recording all day. He just wanted to slouch down on their couch, next to her, and relax. But as he opened the front door, something was amiss. She wasn't in the lounge, no sounds from the kitchen either. Van frowned as he hung his jacket on the hook in the hallway and kicked off his boots. Normally she was sitting in the lounge whenever he came home. Watching Netflix, working, or reading a book. The fact that everything lay quiet worried him a little. He could see she was home though. Her coat hung in the hallway, her key was lying in their key bowl.

He made his way upstairs to their bedroom. The door was closed and he opened it carefully in case she was sleeping. The curtains weren't drawn shut but she was lying motionless in the middle of their bed. Blanket drawn up to her chin. Facing the window. Her back towards him.

"Y/N?" Van asked softly. She didn't turn around and he carefully stepped closer and around the bed to see if she was awake. Her eyes met his as soon as he was in front of her. "Hey" he spoke tenderly. Her eyes were red-rimmed and wet. He squatted down in front of the bed so his eyes were level with hers. He placed his arms on the mattress and settled his chin on top of them. "What's going on?" He whispered. She stretched out her arm towards him and Van instantly got up and crawled under the blanket with her. Not caring that he was still in his jeans and probably smelling like cigarette smoke from all the smoking he had done that day. She cuddled herself into him and he held her in his arms. She smelled like her favourite Lush bath bomb. He brushed his hand through her hair. Knowing that she will talk when she is ready to.

She didn't talk for a whole while. Just lay there cuddled into him. Breathing softly. "Van?" She whispered eventually. "Yes, love?" He whispered back. "Are you still going somewhere?" She asked. He was confused "No, why?" "You're still in your jeans." She observed. He almost smiled. "Don't want to let go of you when you're like this." He answered softly. "I'm fine." She mumbled. He frowned. She clearly wasn't. He let go of her anyway and pulled off his jeans. He also pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor together with the pants. When he lay back down, he pressed his body back into hers. Now with more skin on skin contact. Both their legs were bare and she rubbed her cold feet along his calves. "Are you gonna tell me what happened?" He asked softly. She shook her head no. "I'm fine." Van sighed. "Don't lie to me, Y/N. It's fine if you don't wanna tell me, but don't lie to me, saying you're fine." She swallowed audibly. When he looked down at her he could see a fresh tear rolling down her cheek. "Hey. Hey, I'm sorry." He hugged her closer and she pressed her face into his chest.

"I'm a failure." She whispered. He almost missed it. But only almost. "What? Who said that?" He frowned and tried to pull her face away from his chest so he could look her in the eyes. She wouldn't let him. "Y/N, listen. You are not a failure." When he realised she wouldn't let him look at her, he just hugged her even closer, even tighter. "Jesus. Why would you ever think that?" He whispered, more to himself than to her. "Because I am." She replied quietly. He could feel the warm wetness of her tears on his bare chest and had to remind himself to breath. His heart ached. "You are not. Listen, you are the strongest woman I know. The bravest. The smartest. The most talented. You are so so so much. But a failure is definitely not one of the things you are." He brushed his hands up and down her back, wanting to comfort her, not knowing how. "You have to say that because you are my boyfriend." She muttered against his skin. Her arms were tightly clutched around him. Holding onto him as if he was a safety buoy and she was about to drown. "I am your boyfriend because you are those things." He kissed the crown of her head.

"Why do I get one rejection after the other then?" Her voice broke. Van clenched his jaw. So that was what this was about. He knew the feeling all too well. He hated that she doubted herself. Wanted her to see how great she really was. How he saw her. "Because those people are idiots. If they can't see how great you are then that's on them. Not you." He said and brushed his fingers through her hair. She moved her head from his chest to his neck. Still not letting him see her eyes. "What if it is me, though? What if I'm just not good enough?" She whispered into his neck. He rubbed his cheek along hers. Trying to lean back so he could press his lips against hers. She wouldn't let him though. Remained uncooperative. Her face pressed against his neck. Her lips gracing his weak spot.

"Fuck, Y/N. You are good enough. You are more than good enough. I don't know what to tell you, to make you believe me but I promise you, you are good at what you do, you are brilliant and smart and talented. And I'm not just saying this because I love you. I love you because of it. Because I think you are the greatest person on this planet. And if they can't see that, then fuck 'em, ok? Fuck what they think. There will be people who will recognise your brilliance. And those are the people that count. Fuck the rest of 'em." He decided he was done with letting her hide from him and pulled her face from his neck with a little more effort. He placed both his hands on the sides of her head and made her look at him. Her eyes were wet and red and swollen. Her lips swollen too. There were a few red patches on her skin around the eyes. Evidence that she must have been crying even harder before he came home. The thought almost brought tears to his own eyes. "You are so so so strong." He told her, looking straight into her eyes. "And brave." He brought her head down to his and placed her forehead against his. Their noses squishing each other. "And smart." His hands wandered from the side of her face down to her shoulders. "And talented." His hands found her waist and he pulled her on top of him. She steadied herself. Her arms found a way around his neck. Her hands supporting his head. Her fingers digging into his hair, massaging his scalp. She finally kissed him then. Pressed her lips onto his. It wasn't very gentle. He could feel how much she needed him. He slung his arms around her whole back. Hugged her as tightly as he could. Pressed her body against his. So she would know he had her covered. He wouldn't let go of her. Never. He wanted her to know that she was safe with him. Loved. Adored. Cherished. Worshipped. "You are amazing, ey?" He assured her softly, after she had broken their kiss and buried her face in his neck again. His grip loosened and he caressed her back with his hands. Enjoying her weight on him. "And if they can't see that, then that's their fault. Not yours." He could feel her nodding. He inhaled deeply. Relieved. It made her body rise up with his chest. When he exhaled, she removed her face from his neck and looked at him. "Thank you." She mumbled. He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and smiled. She smiled back. She started tracing a finger over his face. It moved over his forehead and along his eyebrows. He closed his eyes and she caressed his eyelids. Then down his nose. He opened his eyes again. Over his cheek. Along his jawline. Reaching his lips. She brushed over them lightly before leaning down and pressing her own lips onto them. This time her kiss was much more gentle. He knew the worst was over. She was slowly coming back. He wasn't, however, ready to let her go yet. He rolled their bodies over, so that he was on top of her now. She slung both her arms around his shoulder and her legs around his waist. He smiled into their kiss. Exactly knowing how he wanted to spend the rest of the evening with her. Showing her just how much he cherished and adored her.

#van mccann #vanfic #catb fanfic #catb fanfiction #fluff #van mccann fanfic #van mccann fanfiction #van x reader

[timeforaciggy]

Momentary Bliss // Van fluff

Hey friendos, this is a really really rough blurb but I thought it’d be better to try and jump back into writing now rather than never, so please understand that this is not my best work but just a little fluff of a fic. I think the world needs a little fluff right now anyways so please enjoy and let me know how much you hate it lmfao. I’ll be back with more work if this picks up a bit so please do let me know if you’d continue reading my work.

Sincerely, timeforaciggy.

The apartment was freezing, the only warmth was cuddled into van’s chest. He knew you had to get up but there was nothing more that you wanted more than this moment to last forever. You both begin to start to wake up more and more when the sun finally starts to shine just right through the crack in the blinds illuminating the bedroom you shared, or rather the mattress on the floor of your bedroom you shared. You can feel him gently lay his thumb on the side of your cheek and a gentle kiss on your eyelid. How could you open your eyes and start your day when all you ever wanted was these moments of bliss to just last forever?

“Love, you think your boss will seriously really mind if you're late just one more morning?" he asked, genuine desperation in his gravelly voice made your heart almost ache in awe of how precious he sounded. “Yes, Van. I honestly do-” but of course as soon as you started to trail off as to why, you felt his chest rise and fall as he lets out a heavy sigh. He’s been so understanding and thankfully for the time being it’s not like your job is your absolute main priority, it was mostly spending time with Van, before he went off on to start another leg of festival gigs.

Knowing you wouldn't be able to tag along with him on another tour because of school and your other priorities that just can’t be dropped out of nowhere you knew you had to make a judgement call. Either possibly lose your part time job for being late again on account of not wanting to leave your damn bed and more importantly leave your damn man in bed without you, or, have to get up and deal with another day in a world that lacks so much luster these days, go to a job you hate, and then of course regret not being with the person that actually does give your world luster.

In the end, the decision you made was to spend the time you know you could never buy back with the money you made from your shitty job in the first place. And all you had to say was what Van said when they called to tell you not to bother even coming in the next morning, which of course was just two words, “worth it.”

#catb x reader #catb #catb fics #van x reader #van mccann x reader #catfish and the bottlemen imagine #catfish and the bottlemen #vanfic #fluff #archive

[catfishandthebottlefan]

#2 - Seaside

A/N - Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my first fic, I love you all ☺️ Big thank you to my friend Izzy who helped me come up with the idea for this fic - if you’re reading this, Izzy, I love you :) This is lowkey based on the song Seaside by The Kooks (one of my favourite songs 💙) Anyways, enjoy this fic! ~ A x

You roll over onto the other side of your bed, your eyebrows furrowing as you try to figure out why your alarm is sounding when the light is not beginning to spill through your blinds, and even the birds are silent. You reach over for your phone, expecting to see the familiar black screen with the snooze button at the bottom, but you are pleasantly surprised. It’s not your alarm - it’s a phone call, and, as Van’s photo fills the screen, your heart leaps in excitement. Of course he’s calling at 2am - he’s in America and will have forgotten about the different time zones. Bless him.

You swipe the green icon at the bottom of the screen.

“Van?” you croak, “You do know it’s 2am here!”

“Hey, babe!” Van calls, cheerily, “I know it’s pretty early, but I think you should get up and open the front door.”

“Van, what the fuck? Why?” you demand, “Are you okay?”

“Y/N, trust me,” Van says, reassuringly, “Just open the front door, now.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Van.” you mutter, under your breath. You hear Van chuckle on the other end of the phone.

Lazily, you throw on the closest jumper to you, which is, of course, Van’s. You haven’t worn any of your own hoodies since he left two months ago for the tour. You reach for your bedside lamp, squinting as the bright white light illuminates your bedroom, which is, as Van would say, an absolute fucking mess. There’s numerous empty takeaway cartons scattered across the floor, along with your clothes, and the clothes Van decided not to pack last minute. You didn’t plan on telling him you’d been wearing them. Believe it or not, you had planned to tidy up tomorrow (or was it today now?) so Van could come home to a clean house in two days time.

“Van, are you still there?” you ask, hesitantly, “I don’t know why you want me to open the front door right now - can’t you just tell me what the surprise is?”

“Don’t be so silly, Y/N, my love.” he replies, calmingly, “I’d never put you in danger, you know that.”

Reassured, you sigh, and, obliging with Van’s request, you make your way downstairs in order to open the front door. However, you turn on every light in the house on your way down. You weren’t scared of the dark - you just didn’t like being alone in the house at night. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You reach for the latch on the front door, your eyes pointing downwards, expecting some kind of package on the doorstep. You open the door. You jump backwards in fright when you see a pair of boots instead. 

The fear doesn’t last for long when you sense that familiar musky smell and warmth radiating from his body.

“Van!!!” you cry in elation, “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

He pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you off of the ground as he envelopes you in his long arms. The bottom of his long grey coat tickles your ankles, and the side of his face tickles your cheek. You feel a dampness on your cheek.

“Van, are you okay?” you ask, “Are you crying?”

He takes a deep but shaky breath.

“I just missed you so much, Y/N.” he sighs.

You begin to shiver as the cold night air comes between you and Van’s tight embrace. Hastily, Van steps inside, closing the door behind you both, still holding you tight in his arms. 

“Don’t want you catching your death, love.” he smiles.

Carefully, he places you down on the floor of your hallway. You stand on tiptoes, just so you can stare at his face for a little bit longer. FaceTime just isn’t the same, you think.

“Van, what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be back for two days, I haven’t tidied up, I-”

“Shh, babe, don’t worry about that now.”

Van chuckles.

“Is that my jumper?”

You smile and you feel your face turning red as you pull the long sleeves of the hoodie over your hands. 

“Maybe.” you reply, coyly. 

He wriggles his shoulders out of his jacket and hangs it on the free-standing coat hanger in your hallway. He wears a black, long-sleeved t-shirt.

“Go sit down babe, you must be knackered from that flight,” you instruct, “I’ll make us a brew and you can fill me in on everything that happened since we last spoke and-”

“Don’t be so daft, my sweet, I woke you up at 2 o’clock in the morning.” Van smiles.

You gaze into his iridescent turquoise eyes. Without missing a beat, Van picks you up again, but turns on his heel and walks you upstairs to your bedroom. You both grin like children, delighted to be in each other’s arms again.

“Where are you going, Van, no, not the bedroom, it’s really messy and-” you giggle.

Before you know it, Van places you on the bed and kisses your forehead tenderly. Unexpectedly, he then tosses you a pair of leggings he picked up from the floor.

“Put these on.” he commands.

Without thinking, you do as he says, pulling the leggings on. Van goes into your drawer and obtains a pair of fluffy socks, and carefully puts them on your feet.

“What are you doing, you idiot?” you laugh, “You’ve been away for months, and you take me to the bedroom to do what - put clothes on me?”

He pauses for a moment, as if thinking of what next to say. He kneels on the floor in front of the bed, and gazes into your eyes.

“Do you want to go to the seaside?” he sings, softly.

“What?” you laugh, “Van, are you actually okay?”

“I’m not trying to say that everybody wants to go.” he continues.

Fuck it, you think.

“I fell in love on the seaside.” You sing back, as Van lifts you up again, bridal style. 

You nestle into his chest. You didn’t care where he was taking you, as long as you were together. As Van continues to sing the lyrics softly, you work out where he’s taking you. 

“Van, I didn’t move to a Welsh seaside town for you to drag me to the sea at 2 o’clock in the morning!” you say, despite secretly loving the moment, desperately trying to prolong the time spent in Van’s arms.

It’s only a three minute walk to the beach from your house, and, as you reach the sand, Van continues to sing.

“But I'm just trying to love you, in any kind of way.” he continues, softly.

In unison, as Van sits on the sand, you still in his lap, you both sing, “But I find it hard to love you girl. When you're far away.”

The waves reach the shore, carefully kissing each grain of sand before retreating back out to sea again. 

You stare up at the ebony sky, millions of bright, twinkling stars staring back down at you both. The sky didn’t look the same when Van was away - the stars were not as bright, the moon was not as large, the clouds not as peaceful. But, now he was back, everything seemed to work together, in harmony.

Van’s face slowly gets closer to yours, and his lips tenderly touch your own. As you kiss under the night sky, the waves gently lapping up at the shore, time pauses for an eternity. 

You break away from the kiss, to whisper the last verse of the song.

“Do you want to go to the seaside? I'm not trying to say that everybody wants to go”

Van whispers the last line as your hands clasp together, and your eyes lock onto his.

“But I fell in love on the seaside.”

Thank you so much for reading, if you liked it then feel free to leave a like or even a reblog :) I’m always open for requests or prompts if you like my work 😌 ~ A x

#catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #fanfic #fluff #seaside #the kooks #love

[leatherjacketvan]

Sleepyhead

A/N!!! Hey guys! I’m currently on my spring break and just got back from vacation. I know I never post, life is too hectic! Sincere apologizes, though. I know some of you have missed my stories. . . Send in request or ideas for me for more! I appreciate it! I’ll try not to neglect my blog but I can’t make any promises until I get my shit together. (which may never happen) Anyways, enough of me being a drag. Here’s a little something I wrote because I was inspired by my severe lack of sleep. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for all the love and support! :) 

Bloodshot eyes and caffeine. Long nights of no sleep. Eyes peeled to your email, even past midnight hours. Praying that your new boss wasn’t sending you another project with an even stricter deadline.

Your insomnia helped you get through the rough nights of studying for exams all throughout your school years. And now it was helping you manage to get through the days of your slightly overwhelming lifestyle. Work was becoming an around the clock ordeal. And keeping up with your busy social life was starting become a task instead of enjoyable. You managed to adjust your sleep schedule down to three to four hours of sleep a night, that was, if you managed to get any sleep at all. Constant cups of coffee made you forget that sleep was a necessity at this point. No one was calling you out on your lack of self help when it came to managing your time. So you continued on with your bad habit. . .

“Drinks tonight?” - Van.

“Again?” - Y/N.

“Yeah, why not? Drinks on me, as always :)” - Van.

The shared texts between you and boyfriend, Van, made you sigh heavily as you stared down at your phone screen. You began to type. . .

“. . . Alright. Meet you at the usual?” - Y/N

“Great! See you later, love.” -Van.

At that point you felt like dramatically shoving all the piles of papers to the side of your desk and taking a well deserved nap. But you decided to keep your cool and take another sip of coffee instead.

- - - - -

You stared down at your bed. Looking intently at the pillows, and how dire the need you felt to just crawl in and fall into a deep sleep. At this point you were living off of exhaustion. You then turned around to look at the full length mirror as you slipped out of your work clothes and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. You reapplied more concealer to the underneath of your eyes to mask the deep sunken bags that had made a home on your face. Your shaky hands from all the caffeine in your system making it hard to apply it smoothly.

You grabbed your bag and headed for the bar sending a text to Van as you locked the front door and strolled off into the night.

When you got to the brewery it wasn’t hard to spot the group of loud, drunk and rowdy guys goofing off in the corner booth over in the back. You walked up to the table and Van scooted over to make room for you.

“Took you long enough!” Bondy snickered, as you took a seat.

“Well. . . Ya know. . . Work stuff, as usual.” You dryly laughed.

Van wrapped his arm around your shoulder and gave you a peck on the cheek.

“How you feeling, love?” He questioned with a grin. You couldn’t help but muster the words “eh, the usual” Back to him, as long as he had that goofy smile on his face that made him all the more infatuating and lovable to you.

You took a sip out of Van’s glass, it wasn’t too bad. So you ordered the special for the night which was some new IPA concoction from the tap. You decided to order another pint seeing as the one on the table was almost empty.

The night went on, a few hours past. The group couldn’t seem to run out of things to talk about. Van brought up his new guitar that he had just got back from the shop and everyone started to ask for pictures. That’s when Van mentioned. “I don’t have any pictures. But how about we go back to my place and I’ll show it to ya. Pictures couldn’t do the beauty justice, anyhow” He said.

Best part about that sentence was that ‘his’ place was also your place. Which meant you would be having an even longer night. You almost became irritated with the idea you’d be lacking even more sleep. But went along with it, because you were never one to tap out on eventful nights. No matter how much you probably needed to. 

They all dropped some money onto the table, making sure to leave a roomy tip for the waitress. You got up and headed back to your shared flat a few blocks away.

The midnight air was cool, and felt refreshing. All your mind would think about was brushing your teeth, slipping out of your skin-tight jeans and heading to bed.

Van walked up to you as you approached your street. The group of six or so people you’d been hanging out with tagged along behind closely.

“You okay, love? You look like you got ya head in the clouds or somethin’” Van spoke, as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder once again.

You let out a dazed giggle. “Yeah, I’m just really tired” you replied.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked. It took you a moment to remember exactly when to pinpoint your last slumber.

“Let’s see. . . today’s Thursday, so. . . Tuesday afternoon?” you admitted shyly. Van stopped in his tracks a little bit.

“Wait, what!? Y/N you need to sleep! That’s no good for you, love.” he said softly.

“Yeah. . . well, tell that to my deadlines.” you replied solemnly.

“We could’ve spent the night in, you’re more important.” he spoke. It made you blush at his thoughtfulness.

“I’ll be alright babe, don’t worry about it.” you said, kissing him softly as you approached your home.

You all walked inside, and you instantly went to the kitchen to grab more drinks for everyone. They all took a place in the living room, as Van shuffled through the spare room to look for his new guitar to show off to everyone.

You stacked glass bottles of various alcohols and solo cups on the table for people to grab. You took your designated spot on the love seat in the corner, and rested your head against the arm of the couch as you took a deep breath. Van came out of the spare room with his shiny guitar that he was so damn proud of. It made you smile as everyone began to look at it in awe. He pulled out a tiny amp that hid beneath the coffee table and plugged it up to play a few riffs for everyone to hear. They clapped and hooted like madmen. And it definitely fed Van’s ego as you saw his face light up a little more. He put his amp and guitar away. Grabbed a drink and took a seat right next to you. You sat slumped and dazed as Van and the others had got into another deep conversation. You hadn’t really paid much attention to the chatter. Whenever Van would mention your name you would reply with a somewhat attentive ‘yeah’ or ‘haha, I do remember that.’ You didn’t even know if you were responding correctly to what he was asking. But at that point in the night, your eyes could barely stay open. The chatter became fainter and fainter. Zoning in and out of your head. Your body began to give out and before you even knew it, you dozed off completely.

A few hours later you woke up. Drool dripping from your lip. You looked around and the house was empty and perked up from slight panic. Van lay back on the love seat, your legs propped up on his knees as he intently played Fifa on mute. You shook your head.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” he chirped quietly.

“I fell asleep!?” You blurted out.

“Yeah, well. . . I don’t blame ya. After we all saw you dead asleep I kicked em’ all out. Thought you could use some rest.” He said stroking your leg.

You sighed “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, love. Your gonna have a heart attack or somethin’ if you don’t get some actual sleep soon.” He said.

“. . .Are you tired?” you asked him.

“A bit. . .” he mumbled as he saved his current game and leaned over to turn off his gaming console.

“Maybe we should both get some rest ya?”

“Yeah. . .” you murmured sleepily in reply.

Van grabbed your hand around helped you up. You were slightly intoxicated and stumbled a bit. Letting out a little snort in embarrassment.

“Your so damn cute!” He chuckled.

He pulled you into a tight embrace as you fell into him as if your legs were jelly. He squeezed you tighter as he pulled you over his shoulder and let out a little groan.

“Let’s get some sleep.” He insisted. 

You let out another drunken giggle as he took you into your bedroom. He plopped you on your side of the bed and ventured off into the bathroom. You leaned over, and grabbed a pair of comfy shorts from your nightstand, peeling off your jeans to change. That was always a feeling of ecstasy after a long day. You wiggled underneath the sheets and almost closed your eyes once again.

“Y/N?” Van said as you felt him crawl into bed next to you. You turned to him as he held a makeup wipe in his hand.

“I know how much you hate sleeping with that stuff on your face, I’ll help ya out.” He chuckled. He gently grabbed you face with his hand and used the other to wipe the makeup off. You giggled a little bit and he just grinned, and he couldn’t stop. You looked so adorable all tired and out of it. He couldn’t help but feel little butterflies when he looked into your sleepy eyes. He swiped the cloth underneath your eyes to reveal the dark circles that had accumulated there. A few more swipes and he threw the cloth on his nightstand and took his turn wiggling underneath the sheets. He faced you as you faced him. He didn’t say anything. Just, pulled you closer and began to gently rub his thumb across your cheek.

“Please don’t pull all nighters for a bit. . . it’s sad to see you so exhausted like this.” He mumbled.

“I’m okay now.” You smiled as you batted your eyes softly.

“I’m gonna have to have a talk with your new boss. . . what’s his name again? Franklin?” he said, defensively.

You let out a tiny sigh. “He goes by Frank.” You replied.

“Frank. Of course he’s a Frank! What kind of name is that?”

“A pretty popular one, I think.” you chuckled in reply.

“No. You know what it is. . . an asshole name. That’s what!” Van replied with a stupid smile. One where he thought he made a good joke. But in this scenario, it was just a bit mean.

“I’ll let him know how you feel.” You replied with a soft chuckle.

You sat in silence for a little while. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft sounds of both of your syncing breath and the rickety air conditioning.

Van pulled you even closer. You cradled you head into the crook of his neck.

“Goodnight, sleepyhead.” he said, softly kissing your head.

But by then you were already softly snoring in his arms. Drifting away into a much needed peaceful sleep. . .

#vanmccann #McCann #catb #Catfish and the Bottlemen #van mccann #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

[catb-fics]

Dad Van Masterlist

💗 Imagines

Expectations

Valentines Day when you’re heavily pregnant

Pick Him Up From Heathrow

Picking Van up from the airport with your kids

Skin to Skin

Feeding your baby daughter for the first time

💗 Headcanons

Halloween 🎃

The Night Before Christmas 🎄

Nativity Play 🌟

Christmas Day 🎅🏻

Snow Day ⛄️

Pancake Day 🥞

Valentine’s Day ❤️

NSFW Alphabet (smut) 💗

Reading Festival 🎸

Bonfire Night 💥

💗 All of Your Children

Chaptered story about you and Van becoming parents

💗 Dad Van talk 💗

#dad van #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #fanfic #vanfic #fluff

[saintmccann]

43

prompt reader meets van while photographing the band in a photoshoot for @i-wanna-bring-you-home-myself. fluffy! word count - 2857. 

notes I’ve never seen people do mood boards for their fics, so I’m going to continue doing it since it was so fun for Red. Let me know what you think!

__________

You slid your thumb across the winder of your 35mm camera, and sighed when you realized you’d used up the last picture on the roll.

“Take 5, lads,” you yelled to the four men posted up near the studio backdrop, and walked to your equipment table. To your anger, you realized the side pocket of your camera bag was empty. You’d only packed three rolls of film that day, and you’d just finished all the three on people unwilling to pose. These men took ages to photograph properly, and even so, still made odd “serious” faces that didn’t look natural. Ugh. You had barely used two rolls of film on Rita Ora last week, and her management had asked for a whole lot more final photos than Catfish and the Whatever-they-were-called. You’ve got to be kidding me, you mumbled under your breath, and pushed the palm of your hand against your forehead.

“Problem, love?” a voice piped up from behind you. You swiveled. Standing there was the frontman of the band you were shooting for their upcoming album booklet. He had a hard time with clenching his jaw in photos, and you had to tell him to relax multiple times, but he kept jittering around and making everyone nervous until you had to expel him for a cigarette break about an hour earlier. You weren’t too keen on talking with him; he’d interfered with your work too much by now, and he seemed like he could be a stressful presence on the regular. However, you had to keep it professional. Kelsey, your intern, giggled. Early on, she’d noticed how upset this particular job had made you.

“Ran out of film. Don’t have any more in the kit,” you sighed, talking more into the air than to the man who’d asked. “I might just let you all go today. I think we have the material we need.”

He chuckled, and sat on a nearby pop art yellow chair under a softbox, spindly legs awkwardly bent beneath the metal chair seat. “I doubt that. We lot are terrible at photos.” At that, the corners of your mouth turned upward. At least he knew he couldn’t model. His humility brightened your mood a tad.

“People have told us before, ‘You’re all nice, but you’ve got no good looks and you can’t pose for shit.’ Even when they use the regular cameras they’ve gotta change the SD card or whatever. We’re pros at wasting time. See, me mate Larry and I, he’s over there, we sit up in our kitchen for ---”

The buzzer overhead sounded off that the five minute break was over, and that everyone should return to their places for photos. You smiled and nodded toward the ceiling to dismiss him. Bless. Boy could he run his mouth.

The frontman stood up and stretched his legs a little. Instead of walking to the backdrop, he walked over to his friend, presumably Larry, and whispered in his ear. You shook your head and readied your digital camera. You were so glad you’d grabbed it as you left out the door this morning.

“Y/N, are we moving to digital?” Kelsey asked, ready to take orders.

“Yep, go ahead and dismantle the flashes on stands; we won’t be needing them for this shoot since I have another to attach to my camera. Thank you!” you called as Kelsey scurried about the studio and between Catfish members.

Once the men were back in place -- drummer and bassist in the back, lead guitarist and vocalist up front -- you readied a separate camera.

The band’s manager, Mike, walked in after you’d taken a few test shots. You called over to him.

“Hey Mike, unfortunately the photoshoot has taken up the three rolls of film I had ready for today. I have to use my digital camera to finish the rest.”

Mike walked over, gnawing on a toothpick. “Won’t that interfere with the finished effect of the photos we specifically booked your studio for?” he asked cautiously -- not getting angry yet, but about to be. “We don’t want to pay extra for editing to achieve that film look.”

“It will, but unless we get our hands on some film, I can’t continue. My studio didn’t expect them to be so… uncooperative.”

The mention of the word seemed to evoke whispers from the band members as you spoke, only semi-hushedly, to the manager, who tersely responded.

“My... apologies. We don’t know if we’ll be coming back here another day for the rest of the shoot. We’re on a tight schedule.” His eyebrow furrowed first at you, and then he shot a look over his shoulder at the four men standing awkwardly on the white paper drawn down for the shoot. Kelsey pretended to not be listening.

“And so am I. Today is the only day I blocked out for you lot.” The tension in the room climbed to uncomfortable levels as your voice rose.

The frontman came up from behind and tapped on Mike’s shoulder so he’d let him into the circle of conversation. “If it’s any consolation, I can pay to get you more film,” he said, sympathetic.

“That would be nice of you, but the camera takes only a certain kind,” you shrug. “I don’t think you’d be able to get it today.”

“Give me the details, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Very well,” the manager cut in, and left the circle to attend to other matters, probably to try to book another studio for this afternoon. You guessed you were trusting the frontman now.

“Thank you,” you said to him. You handed him a piece of paper with the film type scrawled onto it, courtesy of Kelsey. He smirked, pivoted on his heel, and walked away.

Stressed and in need of a dose of caffeine, you made your way to the table filled with snacks and drinks provided for your camera crew and the band. Mug in hand, you went to pour the coffee jug and realized there wasn’t any left. You scoffed and picked up a scone instead.

“Sorry,” the person next to you said raspily, clearing his throat before speaking again: “Took the last bit of coffee not more than five minutes ago. It was mostly the dregs though.” His rabbit teeth smiled in consolation, and then he sauntered off in a matching tracksuit. He paused to check his phone, typed out a text, and then kept walking. You took in the sight of the little man in his tracksuit, and chuckled to yourself.

At a table a ways away from the studio setup, you chewed your scone dejectedly. You were supposed to be a professional… but then again, so were they! They came into your studio and wasted your time all day, and you probably only got two good shots from all those rolls you used up. You wouldn’t be able to tell if they were adequate until you developed the film.

You sat there for thirty minutes, waiting for the lanky frontman to return. You’d sent the band members out on lunch break in the meantime. Kelsey entertained you and your lighting crew by setting up her laptop with Shane Dawson’s latest conspiracy videos… needless to say, your mood brightened considerably.  

While you were checking your phone, a small box came down sharply on the table, and then a cup next to it. You looked up in awe. There the frontman was, smiling ear-to-ear.

“Five rolls of state-of-the-art film you asked for, exactly for your camera, and a venti coffee, because the bags under your eyes aren’t becoming you, love.”

“How did you…..?”

“Don’t mention it. I’m sorry to have caused you all this trouble today. I know you can’t complain much ‘cause it’s your job, but if I can make it less hectic, I will.”

“I have no words. That was…. quick.”

“I know,” he winked, and ambled back to where the other band members were camped out against the backdrop.

You stood from your seat and threw the plate with scone crumbs into the wash bin for the caterer, took a long sip of coffee, and started to ready your camera with a little pep in your step.

“Kelsey, would you mind calling Mike to tell him everything’s fine? Van saved the day.”

You listened to the chit-chat as you prepped.

“Van!” the guy in the tracksuit yelled across the room. It echoed against the industrial pipes framing the white brick. “Van!”

“What d’you want Larry?” the frontman, presumably Van, answered sharply before sitting up and catching whatever Larry had thrown at him.

Van. Cute name. It reminded you of a guy you’d met a few years ago at a pub. His name was also Van, and he’d bought you a few drinks before making out with you in the alley behind it. Thinking about that experience made you blush, and chuckle a little to yourself. Oh, the things you did when you were younger. Kelsey noticed you smiling, and air-high-fived you from across the room for getting into a better mood.

“I don’t get this Animal Crossing game, Benji,” the tall one with the hat said to the guy next to him. “Why do I have to give the animals what they want? Why can’t I get off on withholding?”

Bob snickered, and shook his curls out. Benji spoke slower than you’d ever heard anyone speak. “Bondy…. you just collect what they want from the different areas, and come back to them when you have it all,” he said. “It’s the whole premise of the game.”

“I don’t like this fuckin’ app,” Bondy said, laughing, and put his phone back in his shirt pocket.

“You’re going to have to remove that from your shirt pocket,” you told Bondy. “And the pack of ciggies you’ve got lingering in your front jeans pocket. I see you,” you motioned between your eyes and his with two fingers.

“Do what the woman says, Bond,” Van piped up, and smiled softly at you. For once that day, you felt like smiling back. Caffeine works wonders.

Camera in hand, you walked over to them and put your elbow on your hip. “I know you’re all tired, and so am I, so let’s try to get these done as quickly as possible.”

*****

That same night, shortly before closing time, glow from the safelight bulbs washed the studio darkroom in redness. You were dipping photos in solution, and hanging them on the clothespin against the wall to dry.

A knock at the outer door in the hall caused your concentration to break, and you jumped a bit. You were the only one in the office adjoining the studio today.

You pressed the intercom button on the far wall. “I’ll be out in a second!” you called, and removed your gloves.

You made sure the light was turned off in the hall before you opened the door, and then locked the darkroom before opening the hall door into the main studio, where Van himself was stood admiring your past photography framed on the industrial brick walls.

“Hello, love,” Van said, moving to stand closer to your desk. He’d changed clothes since the shoot, into a simple black short sleeve and black denim. You walked behind the desk in the studio and sat in your chair, waiting for him to speak again.

“It’s Van McCann, remember me?”

“How could I forget such a charming and resourceful person. Can I help you tonight, Van?”

“Just checking the status on those photos,” he said, tongue between his teeth.

“Unfortunately, they can only be picked up by the person who booked the shoot… and in your case, that’s Mike. Also, it takes at least a week to process them and log them. You’re a tad bit early, I’m afraid.”

You shook the computer mouse back and forth to revive your sleeping computer, and in your Catfish business folder, you made a note that said Van tried to pick up photos under the “Contact” spreadsheet.

Van leaned his elbows across the high shelf of the desk, and peered down at you, coquettish smile on his face. “Can’t you make an exception for little old me?”

“Are you…. flirting with me?”

“Might be.”

“Well, I have to close up shop in a few, Mr. McCann, so if you’re going to ask me out, make it quick.”

“As quick as the film retrieval, or?” he trailed off, smiling so hard his teeth could bust.

“Quicker than that.”

******

The next day at the studio, Kelsey was talkative.

“So, Y/N, how’d it go?”

“What do you mean, Kels?”

“Last night.”

“Wha ---”

“You wrote a note in the spreadsheet that Van tried to come pick up photos. The spreadsheet was still up on the computer, which you never accidentally leave open, or turned on, meaning something had to have happened to get you distracted. And then, after I’d seen that, I got a call from the band’s manager, Mike, asking to come round to pick up the photos today, meaning Van didn’t retrieve them. So I knew he was up to something. And you can’t wipe the grin off your face today. Which I guess answers the question -- last night went great.”

“I mean, yeah. We went to dinner. He seems traditional but fun. I laughed my ass off. It was…. good.” You tried to brush it off nonchalantly. Kelsey smiled mirthfully.

“Not in that way, Kelsey, he and I just met.”

“I never know with you! Remember the time---”

The banter was interrupted by a ring of the bells over the studio door.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Van sauntered in, carrying a vase overflowing with sunflowers. “These are for you.”

“Holy fuck,” Kelsey whispered, giggling softly to herself.

Your eyes widened as you silently took the vase from him. When you’d caught your breath, blush still fire engine red and evident on your cheeks, you turned to him. “Sunflowers are my favorite.”

He winked, and said, “how about coming out to lunch with me today?”

*****

The chivalry continued throughout the next several weeks, and you and Van saw each other at least every other day. Sometimes he’d pop into your studio with a coffee for you, other times he’d find a way to whisk you away for an afternoon of fun. You two were inseparable. All the original disgruntled feelings you’d felt toward him had vanished the night he came into the office late.

“Van, today’s your lucky day,” you called to him. He was in the main part of the studio, visiting you of course, but also chatting it up with a friend who knew Bob.

He walked over to your desk and leaned over to whisper in your ear. “Am I going to get lucky on this lucky day? After all, I am Irish. The luck abounds.”

“Maybe, if you don’t keep spitting in my ear,” you laughed.

Van glanced at your computer monitor and smiled. “These the photos?”

“Mmhhm! The second set you came back for, after the first press shoot. The ones where you all weren’t being assholes.”

Van smiled. “But if the band hadn’t been so uncooperative, we’d have never got on so well.”

You chuckled, “Maybe so.” You shifted your gaze back to the computer, and put on a presenter’s voice. “Fresh off the press, edited by my own hand. Digitized for you and your friends. Want to have a look?”

Van let you scroll past a few before commenting. Mike had given orders that they be transformed from color to black and white. That was easy, but finding a photo where they all looked decent and not like angry Arctic Monkeys fans was a challenge. You were able to find a few for their next press photos.

“Shit, you make me look good,” Van snickered, pointing at his jawline in one photo.

“You already look good.”

“But like… better.”

You scrolled past a few more, enchanting Van with the photos. When he spoke up again, his voice was a bit softer.

“You just make me better.”

You weren’t expecting such sincerity. You leaned up to where he was propped over the desk and kissed him. His plump lips tasted like the cherry chapstick he borrowed from you earlier.

“And I know we’ve only been going out together for two months, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

Your back arched with a tingle and you sat up straight in your chair. Fuck. No. Nope. It was too early for this, wasn’t it? Every nerve in your body was fighting the urge to hyperventilate. There’s no way he could love you this soon. Were you excited? But you were used to being independent. Breathe. He was good for you though. But what if it was a trap? You needed to--

“I’m going on tour.”

“Thank God,” you huffed out, relaxing in your chair.

“What?” Van asked, shocked.

“No! No, I meant... sorry… I didn’t mean that I’m glad you’re leaving. I just thought you were about to tell me you loved me.” You facepalmed. He smiled, and laid his chin to rest on his hand, looking you in the eyes.

“That too.”

#this is purely fluff #fluff #vanfic #van mccann #van fanfiction #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #catb fanfic #catb fic

[storytimecatb]

I started this last week and finally decided to finish it :/ alriggggghty then.. just gonna leave this here lol -- It was after midnight and your phone started ringing, "hello?" It's bob "hey!" "Hi... you know it's late and you woke me up right?" "I'm sorry.." "what do you need that's so urgent you had to call me at 237am?" You say looking at the alarm clock on your nightstand "You" "well it can wait until the morning" "No you need to come over now." "Is everything alright?" "Everything's fine. Just come." He hangs up, you groan and roll out of bed throwing a pair of jeans and a hoodie on. He's lucky the drive was only 15 from yours, you start the car yawning and backing out of the driveway. The streets were empty and cold, you turned on the radio to wake you up a little. Singing along to a song you've heard a thousand times. You pull up into the driveway, and open the door. He's no where in site, you walk into the kitchen and turn on the kettle. "Oh good, you're here!" He must've come from down the hall "Mhm. Well I kind of have to be here right?" Still waking up you sit at the island in his kitchen. He had a nice kitchen, shame he was never around to use the damn thing and when he was he always invited you over to cook for him. You've both been friends for some time now, so walking into each other's homes was normal. "So why am I here?" "I couldn't sleep because I had an idea" "which is?" "I need you to strip and let me take pictures of you" you just about choke on your tea "what?! What the hell for?" "Don't worry I won't see all your...bits" "and you think that makes me more comfortable?" He walks into the spare room and you follow, he hung warm white lights all over and your amazed at how pretty it looks. "Wow, this is cute" the bed looks super fluffy and you wanna jump in "Don't!" He stops you before you ruin it "can you help me then?" "Ugh... fine." You're only interest is being able to lay in the big comfy bed "Great!" He throws you a robe and you go into the bathroom. You take off all your clothes, throw the robe on and wipe the sleep out of your eyes. "Alright...now what?" He's standing in the room setting up a tripod for his camera, "okay now remove the robe and get in the bed" "this isn't porn is it?" You joked, this wasn't the first time he used you as a model. You crawl into the big fluffy bed and he fixes your hair. To him photography was an art, so you didn't mind doing these things for him, he never had you lay naked in a bed but you guys have known each other for so long that you were comfortable enough to do it. The sound of the camera clicking was the only thing you can hear in the room. "Are we going to wrap this up soon or what?" He doesn't answer, he flips through all the pictures he took and throws you a white sheet, "can you lay on your back?" You use the sheet to cover yourself "uhm.." he comes over and adjusts the sheet while still keeping you covered. Your stomach, legs and arms were the only parts of you that were exposed. He stands on the bed towering over you with his camera. "So what's this shoot for now?" "You'll see when I'm done." "Why can't I know now? Or ever? It's always when you're 'done', what are you up to?" He let's the camera hang from his neck and is sat next to you on the bed. "You know, you're really gorgeous right?" "Hmmm I'm about a 6, an 8 on good days" "shut it, anyway when we were 18 you said something about wanting to be a model.." "yeah but that isn't something I can do Bob." "Wanna see?" He gets up and heads down the hall, you throw on the robe and see him sitting in front of laptop. He's never showed you the pictures he took, you just assumed it was for practice or something. "Look at this" he shows you a site with all the pictures he took of you over the years, and the amount of people who commented on how beautiful the pictures were was crazy. "When did you start this?" "The year I got my first camera." You sit on his lap and scroll through the pictures, "I want to help you achieve your dream of being a model, tomorrow I'm going to submit a couple of them to a modelling agency in New York" you sit on him speechless and look back at him "unreal" you say and look back at the screen "are you mad?" "No or.. I'm not sure." You get up off him "this won't work" "sure it will". He stands up in front of you places his hands on your shoulders, "it'll be okay, if it works then congratulations, if not then... they're idiots for not giving you a chance" He moves a strand of hair from your face and puts it behind your ear. You've loved him as a friend for so long, he's been there through it all, and you want to make it more. "Bob?.. have you ever thought of me as anything else but a friend?" "Of course I have, but you're a bit out of my league and I don't think I'm your type" He thinks he knows your type, because all the guys you've dated were big and thought they were hot shit. "Well I mean.. we've gotten along this long, we know every single thing abou-.." he shut you up with a kiss. "Alright, let's do this." He smiles.

#catfish and the bottlemen #johnny bond #benji blakeway #van mccann #short stories #fanfic #fluff #super cute

[tractorbeamofwoe]

Bring You Home Myself | Van McCann

Van holding his baby for the first time in the hospital

A/N: it's been too long!! So glad I finally got this finished. There's 100% gonna be a Part 2 to this where the lads come in and meet her 🥺 I really hope you all enjoy <3

Word Count: 1132

***

"It's too early for this" Van groaned as he rushed to help you stand in your moments of discomfort. It was 8 in the morning but still surprisingly dark outside and your water had just broken.

"You'll be saying that same exact thing in a few years time when she's jumping on the bed to wake you up on Christmas morning." You laughed, relaxing as Van's arms wrapped around you. He didn't find it very funny, though. That was the phrase that nearly brought him to tears  for the first time since he found out you were pregnant.

Van sat you on the sofa and made you a cup of tea, which you sipped gratefully while he rushed around the house packing bags to bring to the hospital. Your pain tolerance was pretty high, so at that point you couldn't feel much except the odd cramp or twinge.

The car journey wasn't too bad either, or at least for you it wasn't. You could see Van was clearly agitated by the way he kept bouncing his leg at red lights or tapping the steering wheel.

"Relax, Van it's gonna be okay." You sighed, wincing as you leant over to pat his shoulder reassuringly. He snorted.

"I'm just as nervous as you are!" He protested, running a hand through his hair before the light turned green and you sped away.

"I'm not nervous, actually." You said matter of factly. You could feel the pain increasing slowly now, your back aching. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper and Van heard it straight away.

"Don't you have some breathing exercises you're meant to do?"

***

Things progressed rapidly after that; it all seemed to blur into one.

Elizabeth ('Lizzie' as you'd already nicknamed her) Mary McCann was born at 12:03pm, right on time. You and Van had had disputes about whether she'd arrive late like him or on her due date the way you never missed a deadline. So of course, she was already taking after you. The moment you first saw her you both cried, although you had a little more composure than Van. Every time she cried after that he got choked up.

At first she had a bit of trouble breathing so they spent an hour checking her over and making sure she was okay.

"You and your bloody cigs. She gets it from you." You joked to Van, but Lizzie was fine and you could finally get some rest. You fed her for the first time, watching in awe as one of her tiny hands wrapped around your thumb. Van sat in a chair beside your bed, bouncing his leg to let off some steam.

"You've been so quiet this afternoon, you okay?" You asked quietly as the baby started dozing off to sleep.

"Yeah I'm just...I dunno a bit overwhelmed. Tryna take it all in." He sighed, then added "What about you, mum, how you holding up?" Kissing your forehead and resting his head on your shoulder.

"Although I'm exhausted, I couldn't be happier." You smiled. "Do you wanna start making a cuppa and then when she wakes up you can hold her for a bit."

Van instantly shot up from his seat then, as if making a cuppa in record speed would make time go any faster.

Rain pattered against the window, the sound nearly drowned out by the kettle boiling and whistling. Van began to hum; songs of his own and songs you'd listened to together. Small melodies and spontaneous lyrics that would go on to be ballads or anthems on the next album. No doubt there would be a song called Lizzie appearing on the track list, sending the fans into a frenzy.

***

A couple hours had passed before Lizzie woke up, wailing and kicking in her cot as babies usually did. Thankfully one of the midwives was coming by to check on you all and she helped you get her settled.

Once she'd stopped crying and had another feed, you looked up at Van who had been taking pictures of you both and texting various different relatives.

"Do you want to hold her now?" You whispered and he grinned, nearly bursting into tears again.

"I thought you'd never ask!" He exclaimed quietly, trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn't disturb Lizzie. You handed her over carefully and Van looked like all his christmases had come at once. It was quiet now the rain had stopped outside, the only sounds were distant cars or the odd murmurs every now and then from the corridor. The three of you were silent, just breathing and watching each other fondly.

He inspected her nose, her hair, her eyes. He took one of her hands between his finger and his thumb, gasping as she made affectionate noises in response.

"Hey Lizzie," he cooed. "I love you, you know. You are my entire world now, right. Nothing else matters to me more than you right now, none of it."  It was a sweet moment and you couldn't help but well up again.

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie." He began to sing to her. She stared up at him in curiosity. "God Y/N you don't understand, I'm so in love right now. We did it, like, this is our actual baby and she's beautiful."

"I reckon she looks like you, you know." You suggested, gesturing to the tuft of hair on her head that was a similar shade to Van's.

"Me? No way. She's way better looking than me." But before you both could argue any further, Van's phone rang. You decided to answer it since it was Mary, leaving Van to continue gushing over his daughter.

"Yeah everything's fine over here. Van's just having a cuddle with her at the moment." You told her.

"Make sure you send us lots of photos then." You heard Mary say  on the other end, to which you jokingly replied "oh you can see it in person if you like, I'm sure he'll still have her when you get here."

She explained that they were only 10 minutes away and congratulated you once again. Those 10 minutes felt like a lifetime as she scrunched her face up and began crying at the top of her lungs. You watched Van try his best to calm his screaming baby. He sang to her, he kissed her, he rocked her and eventually she calmed down when she got your attention.

"Are you getting a bit sick of daddy?" You smiled at her, watching him blow raspberries as he tried to get Lizzie's attention back on him.

"No let me hold her. Just five more minutes. Please?" He pouted. As you rolled your eyes there was a knock at the door.

The new grandparents had arrived.

#Catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #vanfic #van mccann fluff #Catfish and the bottlemen fic #Catfish and the bottlemen fluff