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your-divine-ribs · 2 months

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Pick Him Up From Heathrow (Dad Van)

Words: 1.6k

I didn’t manage to write anything for Mother’s Day (yet) so here’s a little Dad Van fic xxx

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You're tired. And not just a little sleepy. Bone-weary tired. The kind of tiredness that seeps into every fibre of your being and clouds your mind. All you want to do is close your eyes and stretch out your limbs and burrow into the comforting warmth of your bed. The thought of burying your face into the pillow and cocooning yourself in the softest of blankets sounds like the closest thing to heaven right now, but it's not to be. You're at Heathrow airport in the dead of the night, heavily pregnant with a fractious toddler in tow, waiting rather impatiently for the flight from New York to disembark.

"Where's Daddy? He was supposed to be here hours ago! He promised. He said he'd be back in time for dinner and he'd get me ice cream!"

Your little girl's face screws up in frustration, her tiny hands balled into fists in her lap. You reach out a comforting arm around her shoulders and she nestles into your side, pushing her face into the folds of your sweater, sulking.

"It's not his fault sweetie, the flight got delayed. They've had really bad snow in New York so it wasn't safe for the plane to take off. He's here now though. The flight's just landed so we'll see him really soon."

She pushes herself away from you then, stretching up on her tiptoes to see through the crowd, shuffling forwards with an uncertain look on her face. "But I can't see him!"

Her expression is distraught when she turns back to you and you can see the tantrum simmering just below the surface. Like an oncoming storm it roils under her pinched pink cheeks and brews in her tear brimmed eyes. "Come and sit back down Grace, he'll have to wait for his luggage... but it won't be long now, I promise."

"Promise?" She sulks, eyes forlorn.

"I promise," you reply, breathing the vow as you press a sweet kiss to her hair, drawing her to you again. She holds herself taut for a while but eventually you feel her give in, her slight body slumping against yours, head resting on your swollen baby bump.

You always found it hard when Van was away on tour, but now you're not the only one missing him it's even harder. Even though your days are busy and there's a little intruder crawling into your bed most nights to fill the empty space, you sometimes resent the fact that Van's career takes him away from your little family unit.

A soft whimper falls from Grace's lips as she starts to slip into a restless sleep against you. She's worn out, totally exhausted, and you feel a pang of guilt for not being insistent when she'd kicked up a fuss about getting a hotel nearby and waiting for Van there. She could have been tucked up in bed right now, sleeping peacefully whilst you waited, but she'd begged and she'd pleaded and eventually you'd given in, too tired yourself to put up a fight. She was stubborn like that. Just like her dad. And she always won you over. Just like he did.

You smile to yourself, one hand stroking over your belly as you feel the baby stirring, the other pushing back a silky strand of Grace's long hair off her face. Not long now...

And then there he is, all of a sudden, a familiar face in the crowd, his eyes searching the arrivals lounge until they come to rest on you, glowing with that spark you know so well. You feel excitement fizz in your gut as you let out an exhale, breathless as you raise up a hand in a wave. Even though you've been together for many years he still evokes that feeling in you, transporting you back through the years when love gave you that giddy exhilaration, butterflies bursting into flight in your belly as he strides through the terminal towards you.

Your muscles tense, instinctively wanting to rise up out of your seat to go to him and throw yourself into his arms but of course you can't. Grace murmurs in her sleep, little fingers gripping on to your sweater as she shifts where she lays.

"Love, what're you doing here? I thought you'd have got a hotel. It's so late!" Van's eyes are wide with excitement despite the puffy darkness underneath them from his own tiredness and his gaze shifts down to your lap. "Oh, Gracie's asleep. Aww look at her!"

"She's just dropped off. She was so excited to see you she begged for us to wait..." You trail off, suddenly feeling choked now that Van's standing there in front of you, just metres away. "How are you? How was the flight? I've missed you so much. We all have."

"Ughhh, longest flight ever," he complains. "Didn't think we'd ever touch down. God, I've missed you too... you don't know how good it is to see you. My two favourite girls... and of course the little 'un." His eyes linger on the swell of your belly and they look glossy, brimming with love and affection.

And then you feel Grace shift in your arms, her head lifting up as she rubs at her eyes with her hands, slowly at first like she's dreaming but sleep soon falling away when she sees her dad standing before her.

"Daddy... daddy... daddy!" She chants, her voice rising in volume and pitch as she springs on to her feet, arms outstretched as she flings herself into Van's awaiting arms. "You're really here!"

"I'm here angel," he assures her, bending down to scoop her into an embrace, lifting her clear off her feet with ease. "I've missed you so much. Hey... have you grown? I swear you're getting bigger!"

"That's 'cause I've been eating all the Jaffa cakes 'cause you've not been here! Mummy says we should keep it a secret!"

"Are you trying to get me into trouble young lady?" You laugh, rising up on to your feet at last, eager for a proper greeting.

"So you pair have been up to no good, eh?" Van chuckles, arms wrapping around his daughter who's now clinging on to him like a little koala bear, smothering him in kisses.

"Well if you insist on going away all the time we can't promise to behave..." You giggle as you reach for Van, wrapping an arm around his waist, snuggling into the side that Grace isn't attached to, feeling a warm glow of relief flood you when you feel your bodies connecting.

You tilt your head up to him and he dips his down, your lips pressing firmly against each other's. You reach up a hand to tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer, closing your eyes as you press yourself flush against him. You let yourself get lost in the kiss for a moment until a tinkling giggle rings out and you break away, smiling as Grace watches on, peeking through her hands which are raised up to her face.

"Ughh Daddy... why do you kiss mummy like that?"

"Because I love her very much and that's what grown ups do!"

He grins down at her and you laugh, resting your head on his chest, wrapping your other arm around your daughter, feeling complete at last now you're all together.

"Well I'm never growing up then!" Grace announces, her face scrunching in distaste. "Boys are stinky and I'm never letting anyone kiss me like that!"

"That's absolutely fine by me Princess!" Van chuckles, bending down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. She rests her head on his shoulder and he looks down on her adoringly before he turns to you. "C'mon let's go... don't think we should drive back tonight though babe, we're all so exhausted. Let's get a hotel shall we?"

"Mmm yeah, definitely. Much as I wanna get home I don't think I can face that long drive. I'm dead on my feet."

You're suddenly aware of how much your eyes are stinging with tiredness, your back aching, your muscles sore. The prospect of being able to lie down on a soft warm bed within the next half an hour is tempting beyond belief. That... and the thought of being wrapped up in Van's arms.

As if he's read your thoughts he cranes his neck to whisper quietly in your ear. "Can't wait to show ya how much I missed ya love..."

He presses his lips to the patch of sensitive skin just behind your ear, sending a little shiver through you, quickly breaking away when Grace starts bouncing in his arms.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy, can we go for ice cream first? Please... please? You said so on the phone. You promised!"

Her voice raises up, a pleading whine, fixing Van with big, puppy dog eyes. They're the exact same colour as Van's, pale greeny-blue like the sea. Ocean eyes.

"No ice cream now, it's the middle of the night! Sleep for you little one."

"But I'm not tired!" She protests, and even as she says the words you see her eyelids drooping, fighting the impending slumber that's sure to claim her the minute you get into a cab. "I'm gonna stay up all night!"

"Well... we'll see about that," you smile, reaching out a hand to gently brush her face, her long eyelashes fluttering against her rosy cheeks. You and Van exchange knowing looks, wide grins breaking out as you make for the exit and the night beyond.

#dad van #catb imagines #van mccann #van mccann x reader #au fanfic #vanfic #catfish and the bottlemen

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pacifymebby · 6 months

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born to die // chapter seven

In the dark of Dru's bedroom I lay cradled in Sam's arms, our legs tangled beneath the sheets. He'd propped his head up on the pillow and he reclined a little taller than me, looking down at where I rested against his chest. I couldn't take my eyes off him, looking up at him through my lashes. I was so tired I should have been falling asleep, should have been struggling to stay away but I wasn't. I didn't want to close my eyes for a second, captivated by him as I was.

It was as though some cosmic force had stirred between us, tied us together. Soul and spirit fused. Hearts beating in time from that moment on.

Now when he looked down at me I still felt shy, but I held his gaze. Couldn't hide from him anymore because I'd already given him everything. He'd given that to me too.

"How can you be sure we're safe here?" I murmured breaking the quiet which had settled between us, interrupting the gentle sound of our breaths syncing.

With my head resting on his chest I listened to the steady beat of his heart. His fingers tangled in my hair and twirled a lock absentmindedly as he held me close to him, his eyes on the dark autumnal street outside. In a couple of hours the sun would rise and we would have to say goodbye. That thought was haunting him just as much as it was haunting me but neither of us were brave enough to say it. To suggest that sooner or later we would have to forget all about one another.

"Trust Dru with me life," he said kissing my head, the backs of his fingers skimming my shoulder as he trailed my arm and reached to pull the covers up over our naked bodies.

"And mine?" I asked feeling a little uncertainty, nerves fluttering in my tummy until he chuckled and said aye, and yours.

"Why?"

When I asked that he let out a little sigh. I tilted my head up to catch a glimpse of his expression, to see if I could see the answer there in his blue eyes but I couldn't. He was watching the rain through the window, watching the streetlamp which glowed and lit the edge of Dru's room. The light didn't quite reach us.

"When did you learn the truth about your dad?" he asked me, his voice was low and tender, his eyes flickering over me before he tilted his head back up to the ceiling, memorising the pattern of black mould spreading from the corner above our heads.

"His 'work' or the heroin?" I smirked bitterly, I didn't have many fond memories of my father, only the occasional happy day in childhood when he wasn't preoccupied working with 'the family'.

Sam remained quiet for a moment, stroking my cheek with his thumb as he cupped my face in his hand and raised my gaze back up to his. When he did he leant down and pressed a little kiss to the tip of my nose.

"Aye," he said softly, "am sorry little darlin a heard about that...y'deserved better." He said with a seriousness in his eyes, a certainty which glowed in his irises and made me question what he really meant by that.

Because no one really knew what had happened to my father. The Mccann's had always sworn by the same story. Killed in the line of duty, as they so ironically loved to joke. But we only had Van's word. The coroners report had concluded that he'd been killed by a single bullet to the head, fired from close range. There were rumours about who exactly it was had fired that shot. Because the police had never made any arrests, had hardly even investigated it. And my father hadn't exactly made it easy for the Mccann's to keep him alive in the end.

There'd been a time when my father and Van's had been close, when they'd worked side by side as "brothers" but as they'd aged they'd fallen to different vices. Van's father to his love of power and corruption, his addiction to violence, to wars which can't be won. My fathers had been far more plain, more common place than that.

"I found out about the H when I was a little girl..." I said, "hard to keep that kinda thing hidden from a kid when their dads slumped over the kitchen table like a zombie, needle still in his fuckin arm..." I said with a sorry little smirk, remembering the way I'd cried aged seven, my confusion and my fear leaving tear tracks staining my cheeks. My mother had told me that my dad was just very sick, that I'd need to help her look after him, that I'd need to be brave girl from now on. I'd need to be much more than that.

"Fuck," breathed Sam holding onto me a little tighter, pressing a kiss to my temple as he stroked my hair from my face, every touch he laid upon me careful as though I were the most precious thing in the world to him.

"I was older when I worked the rest out, I got suss in high school but I guess I didn't know for certain until I was about seventeen..."

"Thats still dead young lass," said Sam softly, his sad sigh putting a cynical smirk on my lips because his sympathy seemed silly when I knew he'd been raised in that dark world since day one.

"Not in comparison to you am sure..." I said but he just shook his head.

"Thats different, you're a lass like..."

"Right," I simmered catching my bottom lip between my teeth, closing my eyes a little disappointed to hear him say it despite knowing it was the truth.

"A just mean its different for lads," he added trying to coax me back with a cheeky smile, "me dad wanted his little soldiers didn't he..." when I didn't say anything, just forced a small smile to show him that I really did understand, that any cynicism was lighthearted at best he carried on, his brows knitting a little more seriously as he returned to his friend.

"I divvnt remember findin out about me family like, they always were the way they were reet... so a grew up always knowin em that way, means am good at knowing who a can trust now like, learnt it the hard way trusting the wrong people... a know good people when a see em an av known wor Dru since we were in school..."

"Y'can still threaten good people..." I said, tears pricking my eyes again as the gravity of my situation caught up to me for a second. When just for a moment I remembered who I was in bed with, who had saved my life when his family had attacked my families bar only hours before.

"Ey now little darlin," hushed Sam, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone, catching one of my tears and wiping it away, "divvnt be frightened now alreet, y'safe here an I won't let anything happen to you..."

"You won't have much choice in the morning..." I whispered wishing I could stop my melancholic spiral, knowing that the ache in my chest was there to stay when Sam leant down to brush his lips over mine and hush my worrying.

"Ain't mornin' now sweetheart," he said softly letting his lips drag over mine and then over my cheek, scattering several kisses across my face until he managed to draw a smile and a giggle from me. Until I was wriggling against him trying to escape, his hold only tightening, bundling me up and cradling me against him, his smile contagious as he pulled away.

"Thats better like," he smiled kissing my cheek, cradling my head just beneath his chin as he shifted to lie down on his side, holding me at just enough of a distance for him to look at me, his hand still cupping my cheek as he brushed away the last of my tears. His nose knocked against mine as he closed the gap between us, his lips meeting mine as my eyes fluttered shut. The ache in my chest soothed for as long as our lips moved together, his tongue brushing over mine as he pulled me closer in his arms.

When finally we separated I left a trail of kisses from his jaw down his neck to his collar bones where I nuzzled in against his chest and closed my eyes, drifting off, lulled by the warmth of his body pressed against mine, the sound of his breathing slowing as he drifted off too.

And in the morning when the sun came up I felt his reluctance to stir just as strongly as my own. I could tell he was trying not to wake up. That both of us were in denial as the sunlight crept across the carpet towards the end of Dru's bed. As it finally reached our shoulders and the edge of the quilt. We were both trying to pretend that it wasn't swiftly approaching the early afternoon. Both trying to prolong the inevitable.

But when Sam heard the kettle hissing in the kitchen he knew he couldn't fight off the coming day any longer, running his fingers through my hair as he leant down to wake me with a gentle kiss to my temple and his voice in my ear.

"Meadow," he murmured, "sorry love but we've gotta move..." he said chuckling softly when I let out a sorry little whine. "A know darlin, a know..." he said smiling for the last time that morning.

I knew that he was right though. The moment I pushed myself up and away from his body, the moment I felt the cold as the covers slipped from my shoulders and left me naked, scattered with goosebumps, shivering in the winter chill. I felt the tight knot of anxiety return. Felt that doomed shadow creeping back up on me. When I looked at Sam again it was with worried tears in my eyes. The light caught them and broke Sam's heart.

"Divvn't be scared Meadow," he said his voice thick with determination, with a certainty which shouldn't have been able to comfort me but somehow did. I knew deep down that once I was back on Mccann territory there was nothing Sam could do to save me without putting his own life at risk, without making things worse. I knew I had to face Van alone. But something in the way Sam held my gaze when he spoke, when he said things like, "I won't let anything happen to you Meadow, gan keep you safe," settled the fearful waves rocking my body. Made it a little easier to swallow the thought of returning home. Returning to The Angel later that night to sing again.

I sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped myself in Dru's covers, wearing them around my shoulders as I watched Sam help himself to a pair of black trousers and a t-shirt, watched him pull a jumper over his head and scruff up his curls. When he turned back to me I saw the way his eyes flickered over my body before he turned away again to find the clothes his friend had leant me the night before.

"Arms in the air ducklin'"he said as he held a t-shirt out above me, scrunching it up to place it over my head.

"What?"

"You've got a reet bed head," he shrugged, "all fluffy like a little duckling..." he shrugged his shoulders making me giggle as I poked my head through the ring of Dru's t-shirt and struggled with my hands to find the holes for the sleeves. It was far too big for me and when Sam dropped to his knees to help me into a pair of trousers he had to roll the legs up several times so that they wouldn't be dragging in the dirt and tripping me up.

"Think you might need a belt darlin what dya reckon?" he asked when he helped me to stand and took a step back, watching as the trousers slipped and I had to rush to snatch the waist back up before they could fall down completely.

"Will Dru mind?" I asked a little worried that after everything Sam's friend had done for me, a total stranger, borrowing a belt might be one step too far.

"Are y'really worried about that?" Sam raised his brow, rolling his eyes at me when I nodded, shaking his head as he began to undo his own belt. "Reet, 'ere y'go love, better like?" he asked as he threaded it through the belt loops around my waist without waiting for a response, "Nee more worries?" he asked, the smirk he offered me nowhere near as bright as the last smile I'd seen on his lips.

Now there was a shadow in his eyes which I recognised. A darkness I understood.

This was it now. We were both dressed. The sun was up.

All that was left was for me to phone a taxi, step out onto that quiet street and disappear behind a black door. Let someone else drive me away from Sam. Accept that whatever flickering romance we'd felt was over now. This wasn't a viable affair. We couldn't just ask the desperate and obvious question.

So we didn't.

Sam scooped me up into his arms and carried me through the hallway to the top of the stairs. Dru was sleeping on the settee in his kitchen, feet kicked up on the arm poking out from beneath a blanket.

"Y'should wake him up," I said quietly, "so he can go sleep in a proper bed..."

"Aye a will lass divvnt worry yourself about him, I'll wake him up just as soon as 'av got you sorted alreet..."

"Alreet," I said softly, not wanting that moment to come. Not wanting him to carry me down those stairs and set me down on the shop floor.

When I stood behind the counter watching as Sam leant against the wall leaning on his elbow, finger spinning the dial on the phone to call for a taxi I felt tears brimming in my eyes once again. An aching in my heart which wouldn't relent. Every time he caught my eyes he tried to offer me a smile, a small reassurance, but the light never reached his eyes and I could tell he didn't feel the comfort he was trying to offer me.

As he spoke into the receiver I fought the urge to rip the phone from the wall and smash it to pieces. Fought the urge to snatch the phone from his hand, slam it down and kiss him once more. But I knew just as well as he did that it was over now. That the night had passed. That what sanctuary we'd found in one another we needed to forget. Needed to leave behind. We couldn't hide in that chippy forever.

He hung up the phone, resigned to say goodbye. When he reached for my cheek his touch was gentle, his fingers brushing over my skin as he held my jaw in his palm and made me look back at him. His eyes locked with mine, made it impossible not to believe him.

"We'll see each other again Meadow," he said firmly.

"Promise?"

"Aye," he nodded, "a promise."

#catb imagines #sam fender imagines #sam fender fanfiction #sam fender x reader

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catb-fics · 1 month

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I reckon Van does yoga or did at some point cuz how tf is he that flexible?

I’m inclined to agree as I can’t see how else his lanky 6 foot ass could scrunch up enough to fit easily in this box, has the man got no bones?

And he is very bendy too, if I did this holding a heavy guitar I’d fall flat on my back!

#catb asks #imagine him in yoga class though 🤭

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providnce · 3 months

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Okay Van McCann, that was cool, but now it’s the perfect time to drop a Calvin Klein campaign

#/j #but imagine #ignore me #catb #showtime lb

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pacifierbby · 5 months

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I may be masons girl, but I'll forever be van mccan slut

#manchester united #imagines #van mcann #catfish and the bottlemen #catb fics #catb fans

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icouldntfindquiet · 1 year

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Black Magic (Part 9) 🌙✨

The last part of Black Magic has been posted! Thanks for putting up with me reading too many Terry Pratchett books and having to get this out of my system. 😂 I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading. ❤️

#black magic #van mccann #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #imagine #wattpad

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theeleventhhour · 2 years

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I spent the whole morning listening all the catb’s unreleased stuff and i just wish that Van in his currently isolation state re-record the old songs in the best Taylor Swift style.

#Can you imagine the impact of him dropping just like that idk an Poetry and Fuel (Van’s version)#*Billy Bibby was found dead*#catb #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann

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vanmccannonlyfans · 2 years

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Yes! If he does bring out new projects he needs a good team around him who know how the industry works. But yeah I do think the timing of what he does going forward is gonna play a big part in how people react and how successful it will be. I do hope it goes well for him with whatever he decides to do because he is very talented.

i totally agree! he needs a good team who has the strategy, messaging, and promo down pat and allows him to shine and feel comfortable being his purest self, because that’s what we all fell in love with him for! but timing and positioning is gonna be so important when people are so salty over how he’s handled all of this thus far, lol. imo it’s gonna be hard to come back from this with long term hardcore fans who are upset but there’s also an entire potential audience he hasn’t reached yet!

#imagine van making a Tiktok #i would d*e #thanks for asking! ❤️‍🔥#you’ve got mail 💌#van mccann #catb #catfish and the bottlemen

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somethinglikethatyeah83 · 2 years

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Another Van imagine posted on my wattpad! Go read if interested!

"Safe With Me" -: Another shite day, but luckily Van comes home early and knows exactly how to cheer you up

#van mccann #catb #catfish and the bottlemen #imagines

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doomed-syko · 2 years

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Imagine Van having to sneak from his parents to get fucked up though 💀

PLS that’s hilarious HAHAHAH

#imagine being 28 sneaking away from your parents BYEEE #charlotte answers #van mccann #catb asks

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your-divine-ribs · 2 months

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Good Touch

Words: 4.6k

A very stressed out Van comes into your salon for a massage so you help him to relax in the best possible way… I wrote this just after the Cardiff 2022 gig got cancelled 😭 // Just pure self-indulgent smut because I fancy this man so bad I have no other excuse lol sorry 😂

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"I'm so glad we're nearly done for the day, I can't wait to get home. Thank god I've not got any more clients."

Your colleague and salon receptionist Naomi looks up as you push through the door after heading back from a much needed coffee break. A small frown creases her forehead.

"Actually Y/N, you do have another client. He was a late booker from this morning. Haven't you seen it in the diary?"

"No..." Your heart sinks as she slides the appointment book towards you across the counter, squinting at Naomi's practically indecipherable scrawl. "Mr... what? Mr McCarr? McCaw? Don't recognise the name. He's not a regular then..."

Great, you sigh to yourself. A brand new client last thing on a Friday. These days your diary is full of satisfied repeat bookers and you've got to know all of them well during your time at the salon. It's almost like you can forget you're working at times, you just switch on the relaxing music and chat to them whilst you massage away their tension knots and usually their worries too. It's often soothing even for you, but this week has been long and exhausting and the thought of making polite conversation with a total stranger for a whole session when you're ready to go home is totally draining.

Well... let's just hope he's one of the quiet ones who just wants to lie there and zone out.

"It's actually McCann... excuse my terrible writing!" Naomi laughs. "But yeah he's new. He came in grumbling about his manager ordering him to come for a session. He's had some shit go down at work or something... I don't know. He was pretty vague, mumbling like he really didn't wanna be here."

You look quickly towards the treatment room door which is thankfully shut. "He's already here?"

"Uh-huh," Naomi nods, scrunching up her face. "He looks like shit... really stressed out... like maybe he's not slept for a month." She grins mischievously. "Shame really as I reckon he'd be proper fit normally!"

"Naomi!" You exclaim in a hushed whisper, stepping over in alarm. "For Christ's sake keep your voice down!"

Naomi just shrugs, unfazed, tapping her manicured fingernails on the counter. "He won't hear, the door's shut. Chill out! Anyway, enjoy... he's booked in for a full body massage!"

Her eyebrows shoot up suggestively at the final few words, but you don't partake in her smutty behaviour. You've always prided yourself on your professionalism. You'll just go in and do your job... work your magic... in forty-five minutes you'll have another satisfied customer.

You take a deep breath and open the door...

You should have realised. You should have put two and two together, but why would you? Okay... McCann isn't exactly a common name, but the thought of having a real-life, living, breathing, famous rockstar casually dropping into your salon is the last thing you'd expect on a Friday afternoon.

But sure enough there he is, larger than life and a hundred times more handsome than his videos on YouTube, perched on the edge of the treatment bed wearing nothing but a pair of tight-fitting black boxers. Very tight-fitting actually, you note, quickly wrenching your eyes upwards to meet his sparkling blue gaze and his awkward looking slightly crooked smile.

"Alright love?" He greets you in that familiar tone that you've grown to love by watching every interview of his that you've scoured the internet for.

You're flustered even though you tell yourself that you shouldn't be. In your line of work you deal with clients in various states of undress all day, every day. It's just that they're not normally Van McCann, singer of your favourite band. The very same band who've just brutally broken your heart and put a serious dint in your finances by pulling out of a stadium gig you'd been set to attend only weeks away. You'd been devastated and frustrated, not to mention fuming about the band's lack of communication with their loyal and dedicated fanbase, but all of a sudden those feelings of resentment take a backseat to your utter shock at having this most elusive of your idols sitting there before you, eyes glowing with a subtle kind of amusement at your stunned expression.

"Oh... errr sorry... wasn't I supposed to get my kit off yet?"

"Yes... yes... of course!" You blurt, checking yourself when you realise you sound overly eager, making out you're clearing your throat so you can take a moment to compose yourself, forcing your inner fangirl back into hiding. "I mean, sure. I can't massage you fully dressed now, can I?"

Van nods but his smile slips as you step forward to retrieve a towel off the bale on the wall, and now you're a little closer you can see what Naomi was talking about. The skin under his eyes looks dark-tinged and puffy, his skin sallow under the lighting. He sighs under his breath as he gets to his feet. "Might as well get this over and done with then."

His comment makes you bristle slightly but you recall Naomi's earlier comment and you take the chance to explore his lack of enthusiasm. "Oh, my colleague mentioned something about your manager making you come? You don't sound too thrilled about it. Most people love coming for a treatment. It's therapeutic you know."

"Yeah well... I don't need therapy," he says quickly, his voice tight and defensive. You've obviously hit a nerve. You hadn't realised that you'd stepped back, recoiling, but Van notices. He looks immediately embarrassed, offering an apologetic smile, pushing a hand through his hair as he talks.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to snap... it's just... errr... it's just I've really been going through it at the moment. Things have been... difficult... really difficult." His eyes dart around the room before they meet yours again. "You could say pretty much everything I touch is falling apart these days."

You're full of intrigue, literally bursting with curiosity to find out the reason behind the band's demise, but he's made no reference to show that he knows that you're aware of who he is. In fact you think he probably suspects you don't and he's relieved about that. Despite your desperation to find out the band's fate you really can't probe him. You don't want to scare him off, but you also don't want to treat an unwilling client. It just doesn't feel right.

"Look... I'm really sorry to hear that, but I probably shouldn't treat you if you don't want to be here..."

Van cuts you off, looking contrite. "It's not that I don't want to be here, really. Please don't take offence. It's just that I don't know how a bloody massage is supposed to miraculously cure all of my problems, that's all."

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, and you smile back, holding out the towel to him which he accepts.

"I'm sure it won't... but it will relax you, I can promise you that. You can just lie back and close your eyes and check out of real life for a little while. C'mon, why don't you just try it? You might like it. Let me take care of you for a bit."

Oh... you hadn't meant it to come out quite like that, so intimate-sounding. You feel your cheeks begin to warm as his grin widens.

"Well, if ya put it like that how can I resist? I'm sure I'll be in very capable hands! Now... how do you want me... on the bed?"

His last line's said innocently enough but there's an underlying cheekiness simmering just below that gorgeous smile that makes your belly flip. You bite back the smirk that's threatening to surface along with a very inappropriate smutty comment, trying to restore the composed and professional demeanour that you usually display with your clients.

"Yeah, just lie down right here." You look down quickly to hide your flushed cheeks, patting the soft sheet draped over the bed. "If you start off lying on your front then I can do your back, and then you can turn over." You pause, mentally bracing yourself before you say the next line, but ending up blurting it out in a tumble of rushed words. "You can... umm... take everything off if you like... you don't have to but some clients prefer it that way. It's completely up to you though. You can use the towel to cover yourself if you do."

Fuck... your cheeks are on fire now, your pulse starting to race. The room suddenly feels like a furnace as you watch Van quickly hook his fingers under the elastic waistband of his boxers without hesitation, starting to inch them down his slim hips.

"Oh... I'll step out and give you some privacy!" You exclaim, hurriedly whirling around to avert your eyes at the realisation that he means to completely strip off right there and then in front of you.

"Not a problem," comes his relaxed voice from behind you. "I'm not shy."

A giggle of pure embarrassment bubbles up inside and you bite down on your lip to stem it, trying to control your pounding heart. You need to pull yourself together and fast. In a moment you've got to turn around and deliver a relaxing and professional massage but all you can think of is getting your hands on his naked body for all the improper reasons.

"Just let me know when you're ready!" You say brightly, stepping forward to peruse the massage oils, deciding on a blend of patchouli and sandalwood. You tap the small speaker on the shelf and a wave of soft, soothing meditative music fills the small room. Scented candles are already lit to give the room a calming ambience.

"Ready... I'm all yours!" You hear him call back.

Yes... yes you are, you smile to yourself as you move over to dim the lights before finally turning around.

He's laid out on the bed on his front as instructed and for the first time you can get a good look at him uninhibited. His wiry body is lean but taut, his skin pale save for the slight flush where he's obviously caught the sun on the tops of his arms and around his neck. The tiny towel that you gave him is draped temptingly over his pert little ass and you curse yourself for not giving him an even smaller one.

"How are you feeling? Are you comfortable enough?" You ask, tipping some of the oil into the palm of your hand and warming it between your fingers, coating them in the fragrant liquid.

"Uh-huh I'm good... yeah I'm all good," he replies, shifting slightly where he lays and bringing his arms up to fold across the end of the table. He lays his head sideways against his crossed arms. You have a clear view of his face from here and you can see that his eyes are shut. "I've never had a massage before... I don't really know what to expect."

"Just relax," you tell him. "That's all you need to do. Just leave the rest to me."

You step forward until you're inches away from the table, looking down on him. You can hardly believe that this man who's dwelled in your fantasies up until this moment is lying here in front of you, naked as the day he was born, completely at your mercy. Tingles of excitement are sparking through you and again you have to take a moment to compose yourself, surreptitiously shaking out the tension from your fingers which are trembling slightly.

You start by placing your palms on either side of his spine just below his neck, trailing your hands down to his lower back, then up again, this time moving in circles, firmly smoothing his flesh as you go. He lets out a small sigh and you feel him sink down further into the bed.

"That feels nice already," he murmurs. "Think maybe I am gonna enjoy this after all."

Not as much as I'm going to enjoy it, you muse to yourself, smiling as your fingers nudge the towel aside to smooth over the top of the contours of his ass, thumbs pressing into the small of his back.

"I'm only just getting started," you say. "I can feel a lot of tension in your muscles, so I'm going to have to be thorough."

His only reply is a soft "mmmm" which sounds far more sensual to your ears than it probably should. Your mind wanders, imagining him flipping over and pulling you down on top of him, hitching up your dress whilst you straddle him and grind shamelessly against him.

You try to clear your mind, moving upwards again and using your fingers to caress the muscles across the tops of his shoulders, working out the knots of tension as you go. His skin is soft and smooth, more so than you would have imagined, and the way your oil-soaked hands glide across his flesh is arousing you beyond belief. His body glistens in the candlelight. Maybe this was a bad idea. You can feel your professionalism ebbing away as you bring your hands down to focus on his slender waist, not making a move to replace the towel when it slips to the side, exposing his bum.

Van doesn't seem to notice or maybe he does but he just doesn't care. He has a blissed-out expression on his face, his eyes screwed shut and his lips slightly parted, a small crease adorning his brow as he lets out a sound that's halfway between a whimper and a sigh.

"You have no idea how good that feels... really. You're some kind of goddess, I'm sure of it."

His words fan the flames that are already simmering inside of you and you can feel the ache grow between your thighs as you shift your position to move down to his legs.

"Oh, I don't know about that," you reply, laughing softly. "My clients always seem to go away happy though."

"I don't doubt it.... mmmm... god that's so good... ohhh..."

There he goes again. Christ... those little moans that he's making are not helping matters. If he's this expressive just from a basic massage how would he react if you showed him your real talents? You push the thought away, reaching for more oil before you begin on his legs, wrapping your fingers around his calves as you massage your way up, spreading your hands wide as they slide up his thighs.

"F... uck," he groans, low and drawn out and you see him push his pelvis into the bed as your fingers trail dangerously close to the sensitive area between his parted thighs. Now you're certain that you're not the only one getting turned on, but it's hardly surprising, with each stroke you're pushing the boundaries of decency, edging closer and closer to forbidden territory. His arms move from their relaxed position so he can grip the edges of the bed and you smile to yourself as you feel his body stiffen.

There are strict rules of conduct for masseuses in your salon and you're breaking every single one. If your manager could see you now you'd be facing a disciplinary at the very least, or at worst you'd be fired. That doesn't stop you though, your fingers kneading teasingly at a spot that makes him visibly shiver until you feel the muscles in his thighs clench up tight under your touch.

"Are you still feeling okay?" You ask, finally moving your hands away, wiping the excess oil on the towel before you gently drape it back over his bum.

"Yeah... yeah I'm all good," he answers, but his choked up voice would suggest otherwise. Maybe you're going too far. Your salon prides itself on offering the most soothing treatments, leaving clients feeling calm and relaxed, not wound up tight like a spring, gripping the treatment bed like their lives depend on it.

"Are you sure? I know my massages can be pretty... intense."

He lets out a throaty chuckle. "Intense? That's one way to describe it! Think maybe I'm... errr... enjoying it a little too much."

You can't help the grin which stretches wide on your lips at his words which are like music to your ears, a green light to continue in your endeavours to make him feel good. You've never really considered your ability to make a person's body react to your whim a talent before, more like a gift. So what's wrong with bestowing a gift of your own on someone else every once in a while? He so obviously needs it.

"It's time to turn over now," you tell him, grasping the edge of the towel to lift it, allowing it to screen him as he moves.

"Al... already?" He stutters, uncertainty in his voice as he shifts. "I... errr... umm... okay then."

He rolls on to his side and you train your eyes on the far wall as he does to allow him his privacy, only looking back down to replace the towel when he's settled on to his back.

Oh...

All of a sudden the source of his hesitancy is abundantly clear as you see the the towel tenting slightly over his cock. You have to fight hard to suppress the self-satisfied smirk you can feel trying to surface, quickly looking away, your eyes meeting Van's in an awkward moment of understanding.

He smiles sheepishly, his cheeks tinged an adorable shade of rosy pink and you fleetingly consider acknowledging the situation you've both found yourselves in, but you decide against it, opting to just carry on instead.

You can feel his eyes on you as you turn to reach for more oil then you step to the head of the bed, looking down on him. He blinks up at you, stunning pale greeny-blue eyes framed with thick, long lashes. You're certain you're not imagining the wordless exchange that you can feel taking place, a tender kind of lustfulness that his imploring expression conveys. He wants this. You know he does.

You place your hands on either side of his neck, letting them trail down to his collar bones and then outwards across his chest before drawing them back and repeating the movements over and over. You can feel his heartbeat thundering under your fingertips at each pass, his chest rising and falling deeply.

"You okay?" You check in on him and he nods, eyes swirling with intensity.

"Uh-huh..." he breathes out, then he clears his throat. "You're pretty incredible at this, you know that?"

You smile, soaking in the praise, wondering if he thinks every client of yours gets this extra special attention that he's receiving, wondering if he cares?

"It's working then, is it?" You grin.

Van laughs and you can feel it vibrate through his chest under your palms. "Put it this way, I'm not exactly thinking about my problems right now!"

"Good... that's good... that's the aim."

You step back around to the side of the bed so you can reach further, moving your hands down over his abdomen, letting your fingers slip under the edge of the towel and trail down the V of his hips. He lets out a shaky exhale and you glance up to see his eyes fluttering shut, his mouth slightly agape. He looks divine lying there, his oiled skin shimmering in the flicker of the dim candlelight, the temptation to pull away the towel so strong that you find your fingers twitching with longing. That's just a step too far though. Teasing is one thing but giving one of your clients a sneaky hand-job is another entirely. Besides, just because he's turned on it doesn't mean he's giving you consent to relieve his tensions in such a sensual way. He'd definitely have to ask... or maybe even beg...

Fuck... you wonder what that would sound like falling from those full pink lips of his, the same lips that are currently being pulled in between his teeth to stifle a groan. You coax it from him anyway as your hands move down to grip his thighs, pushing them slightly apart as you knead at the sensitive flesh. The towel rises up even further in response and now you know you've really crossed the line. Van's gripping the edges of the bed tightly, his breathing coming heavy and ragged. His hips press upwards as if to chase your touch as your fingers wrap around the top of his thigh under the towel, the backs of them just barely grazing his balls as you move away.

"I think we'd better finish there for today," you say hurriedly, watching carefully for his reaction, pleased when his eyes flick open with a look of dismay. "That's if you've... umm... had enough?"

He pauses for a moment, his brow furrowed in a hopeful kind of eagerness. "You mean there's more... if I want it?"

"Yes," you say with no absolutely hesitance, boldly meeting his needy gaze, gauging his reaction whilst you try to formulate your next words in your head. "I mean I think we both know that there's more than one way to relax somebody... a more unconventional way to relieve that obvious tension if you like."

You try not to think of Naomi innocently sitting outside at the reception desk filing her nails whilst you're in here propositioning a client in the most sordid kind of way. Despite her earlier teasing you just know that she'd be horrified by your actions. You start to fret that maybe you've made a mistake, but then Van speaks, and your worries melt away in an instant.

"I want it... I really want it... please."

In a deft motion he tugs at the towel and it falls away on to the bed, exposing him completely. As expected he's gloriously hard, his cock just as delectable as the rest of him, thick and rigid with a flushed tip, just begging for your attention. You waste no time in wrapping your fingers hungrily around his girth, swiping your thumb over the sensitive head.

"Shit," he mutters. "I can't believe this is happening."

He hoists his body upwards, propping himself on his elbows, craning his neck to watch as you begin to caress him, taking your time, sliding your oil-slicked fingers slowly and deliberately up and down his length.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," you murmur, the shock and excitement of what you're doing hitting you as he lets out a throaty groan and you worry that Naomi might hear.

"No... don't stop," he gasps breathlessly. "Please don't ever stop. It's so good... mmm."

His eyes flick between yours and his cock, dark and heavy-lidded, strands of his hair fallen forward on to his face which is creased in pleasure. You don't think you've ever witnessed a sexier sight, the obvious enjoyment etched on his face, his hips pistoning upwards needily as he fucks himself into your hand.

You pick up your pace, gripping him firmly, flicking your wrist over the head at each stroke, loving the way he writhes under your touch. His jagged panted breaths mingling with his choked groans and the obscenely wet sounds of your slick hand moving over his length seem to bounce off the walls of the small room making everything seem more intense.

"Keep going," he groans pleadingly. "Please... just like that... ahh fuck."

You're torn between wanting to stretch this out and wanting to drive him to his peak, the sinful noises he's making travelling down to your own core, soaking your panties through. You move to cup his balls with your free hand, gently massaging them, satisfied when he grits his teeth and lets out a particularly primal sounding groan.

"I can't hold on... I'm gonna come... fuck, fuck... FU-CK..." he hisses, thrusting into your hand, his whole body spasming. You watch him, transfixed as his jaw falls slack and his eyes glaze over as the swells of his climax peak and he comes, hard, milky splatters of cum painting his belly and spilling out over your knuckles.

You tug him a few more times until you've milked every last drop out of his orgasm and he's shuddering under your touch, his head hanging forward, muttering incoherently under his breath.

You release your grip on him, reaching for the towel and perching on the side of the bed, waiting for his reaction as you clean off your fingers, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Holy fucking shit," he finally murmurs, raising his head, his blue eyes meeting yours, full of wonder and shock and an awe-like reverence that makes your breath catch in your throat. "I know I'm brand new to this whole massage thing but I'm guessing that's not how it usually goes down?"

He accepts the towel from your outstretched hand as you offer him an awkward smile, the enormity of what you've just done hitting you now. "I can promise you I've never done that before. I... I don't know what came over me... sorry."

"Sorry?" He echoes quickly, his eyes bulging in disbelief. "Please don't apologise! That was..." he pauses, shaking his head, searching for the right words. "That was probably one of the hottest experiences of my life! Really... I mean it!"

A deep scarlet flush washes over you. "I hardly think so..."

"Trust me, it was," he cuts in, his eyes bright, a kind of youthful sparkle in them that looks good on him. "My only regret is I didn't even ask you your name... you know... before..."

He stops, chucking warmly, dabbing at the sticky mess on his belly before he drapes the towel over his lap and swings his legs around so he's sitting next to you on the bed.

"It's Y/N," you say, quietly.

"Van," he offers, holding out a hand to you in a greeting gesture, laughing when you accept it. Then you're laughing too at the absurdity of the belated formalities now when you've already shared an intimate moment together.

"Note to self," he grins up at you as you break away and get to your feet. "Make sure you're on first-name terms with a girl before you accept her offer of a hand-job!"

"Oh my god!" You giggle, cheeks glowing, huge grin splitting your face in two as you raise up a hand to your face, embarrassment flooding you now.

"I... errr... suppose I'd... errr... better give you some privacy now... you know, to get dressed." You start to back away, glancing down as you start to turn, feeling awkward now the heat of the moment has dissipated and it's painfully obvious the two of you are nothing more than strangers thrown together under a happy coincidence.

"Hold up... wait... Y/N..."

Van's voice comes urgently, stopping you in your tracks. You spin around, coming to face him, looking at him expectantly, surprised to see an awkward hesitance about him. He's still naked save for the small towel he's holding which is barely covering his modesty and you battle with yourself to keep a straight face.

"On my way in I saw this little coffee shop just across the road. I don't suppose you'd like to go and grab a drink with me would ya... if ya not busy that is? I figured you probably got off work soon?"

His voice rises up hopefully and your stomach flips with excitement but you try not to let it show, keeping your inner fangirl in check who's bursting to start doing a celebration dance at this dazzling turn of events.

"Yeah," you nod, returning Van's warm grin with one of your own. "Yeah... I'd really like that."

#good touch #catb imagines #van mccann x reader #fanfic #vanfic #smut

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