#godlyvanoriginals

[godlyvan]

02 | OPPORTUNISTIC

summary | friends with benefits ends because y/n can’t do this anymore, and van mccann laughs at her reason why.

warnings | swearing, a little smut, van mccann being a little shit.

a/n | i love hippo campus’ music quite a lot, so i thought i’d attempt a vanfic based on one of their lyrics from opportunistic. i hope you guys like this. enjoy.

lyric line(s) | I’d like you to savor the taste of me on your lips, I swear it's the last time you'll get it

The sounds from the speakers carried throughout the house, and throughout the hearts of its guests. Y/N walked in with a determination nobody could wither. She guided her new-found friend, Talia, through the crowd, weaving in and out of different crowds to reach the kitchen. There sat hundreds of red solo cups, some empty and some filled with an unrecognizable liquid, piled on top of the table in the kitchen. Y/N grabbed the bottle of vodka, the last bit of orange juice from the fridge, a bottle of grenadine syrup and two cups for her and Talia. “What’re you making?”

“Vodka Sunrise. It’s basically a Tequila Sunrise, but with vodka. It’s really good, I promise.” Y/N made the mixed drinks for the two of them, smiling as her friend took her first sip. “Good?”

“Very.” They spent most of their time in the kitchen, only removing themselves when there was a decent song on. They’d sway their hips to the beat, dancing with each other, not caring if anyone joined or not. Beads of sweat would accumulate at their foreheads, making the strands of their hair stick to their faces. Everyone was captivated by them, staring as their hips grinded into each others.

Talia was soon to be whisked away, leaving Y/N all alone in the kitchen, making mixed drinks for herself. That was all until he came in the room, demanding the attention to be turned towards him. He stole the room away from her, everyone’s eyes gliding up and down his body, looking over his all-black attire. “I assume you’re the designated bartender for tonight, then.”

“Can make you anything you want, darling. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’ll take anything you feel up to making.” Y/N smirked, fixing him up her specialty drink. She was truly an amazing bartender, always earning more tips than anyone else in the bar that she worked at. Janice, her boss, always made sure she’d work on Saturdays, reeling in the most money they get throughout the week.

“Here you are,” she smiled, handing him the cup. He wasn’t too sure about the drink. It looked well made, but he had never had it before. “It’s an old fashioned from where I used to live. Always made it at parties ‘cause everyone loved it.”

“It’s actually really good. Where did you learn to make this?” He asked, downing half his cup.

“Madison University in Wisconsin. Big on old fashioneds, especially the professors.. Never got your name. What is it?” She asked, her hand now resting on her hip. He smiled at her, taking a sip from his cup, licking his lips afterwards.

“Name’s Van. I was named after Morrison, y’know.”

“Oh really? Never woulda thought of that. Better not disgrace the name of Sir George Ivan, dude. I’d have to kill you.” Van raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging his shoulders.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love. Now tell me, why’re you at this party by yourself? Surely you’ve got someone who’d be interested in your company.” She went from looking around the room, to looking into his eyes in a split second, trying to decode what he meant by it all.

“I came here with a friend, but she wanted to leave with some fuckboy. Don’t mind being lonely, but I don’t entirely mind the company.” She winked at him, walking away into the living room. The sounds coming from the speakers had changed from some sappy Rihanna song, to an uptempo beat with lots of drums. One could probably headbang to this, but instead, hips were swung from side to side, alluring some of the guests in the crowd, who weren’t dancing, to find themselves someone to dance with.

“I thought you’d want me to follow, was I entirely wrong?”

“You were not wrong at all, darling. If you don’t dance with me, though, I might have to find someone else to.” He jumped at the chance, his hands resting themselves on her hips, her fingers gliding between his. Together their hips rocked and collided, his hands gripping her hips hard, her hands above her head, feeling the music. Something in their movements made them realize they needed to move this somewhere else quickly, knowing it wouldn’t be long until the other was going to need something more than what they were doing. “Bedroom?”

“Yes, please.” He lead her upstairs, walking slowly down the stairs into the basement. It was renovated to be an in home movie theater. There were couches all along the walls, with the movie screen almost as big as the wall. They took one of the far away couches, Y/N’s hands pushing Van down to sit on the couch. She climbed onto his lap, her hands resting on his shoulders as she finally found her spot to sit. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips hovering above his teasingly. Her thumb brushed over his lips, smiling to herself before biting her lip.

“You’re driving me crazy, love.”

“That’s the point, darling.” She moved his head with her hand, her lips dipping down to touch his neck lightly. Y/N dragged her tongue down his neck and back up again, pressing a light kiss behind his ear. A low groan came from his mouth as he laid his head back on the back of the couch. She smirked to herself before she began to leave a trail of kisses from his neck to his lips, making him moan from anticipation. His hands found themselves back at her hips again, some of his fingers tucking under her belt loops. He guided her hips to grind against his, eliciting a moan from the both of them.

The kiss started off soft, small pecks and gentle, little bites on bottom lips, but soon transformed into a hard, passionate one. Hands gripped whatever they could, whether it’d be hair, clothing, hips or shoulders. Tongues rolled against each other, making their moans become louder somehow. They only broke apart for air and to tear at each other’s clothes. Soon, the two would be completely naked, aside from Van’s pants, which was a pain to remove.

The pair moaned and whimpered until they rode out their highs, hot, white light blinding the both of them. Hip movement from Y/N became erratic, as well as their breathing. As soon as they came down from their high, they put back on their clothing. “Maybe we could do this again sometime, I had a great time.”

“Me too, hand me your phone.” And he did as he was told. He watched as she punched in her phone number, making her contact name ‘fwb’.

“Why’d you put down FWB?”

“That way you don’t get attached to me. Can’t fall in love if you don’t know my name,” she kissed his cheek, a smile quickly falling on her face. “Call me when you need someone to take away your loneliness, Van. See you ‘round.”

And he did call whenever he was lonely and in town. They’d meet up wherever they could, finding their way back to a hotel or some weird, cheap motel closest to them. He’d ask her questions if they’d be cuddling afterwards, which was very rare for them. “Are you ever gonna tell me your name?”

“Dunno. Maybe if we stop whatever this is between us.”

“Why would we have to stop? Why can’t I know your name now?” He asked, playing with the ends of her hair. She moved away from him, pulling on her underwear and pants before answering him.

“Like I said before, keeps you from falling for me.”

“Can you at least stay the night tonight?” He pleaded with puppy dog eyes. She didn’t realize she’d fallen right into his trap, unfastening her pants before climbing back into bed with him.

“Only this one time, McCann. No cuddling, though.” Van nodded, a smile stuck on his face the size of the moon. Of course, when she would soon drift off to sleep, he’d wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. What he didn’t know was that she was awake the whole time, deep down knowing how fucked she was.

She ended up staying the night on many other occasions. They’d either drink or smoke and then fuck their loneliness away before falling asleep under the white sheets of his hotel bed. He’d always ask why they’d never fucked in her bed, but she’d always dodge this question until it was too late. Until she was already in so deep she would have to dig herself a way out.

“Can we go back to yours? I wanna see what you’ve got hidden away in your room.”

“No, we can’t. We’ve gotta stop doing this, Van.”

“Doing what?” He asked, “Fucking? Why the hell do you wanna stop?”

“I can’t do this anymore.” She didn’t want to tell him that she’d fallen for him. He looked into her eyes, trying to read her motive before she had said anything. “I need to stop this so I can move on. Can’t have some twat following me from place to place all the damn time.”

“Don’t act like I’m the one who’s annoying. You’ve called me more times this month than I ever have. You’re the only one who wants this to end. I’m perfectly fine with fucking you. That’s what this is - just two people fucking. Unless… you’ve got some feelings for me.”

“I don’t,” but he sensed the shakiness in her voice, knowing she was lying right away. “I don’t have feelings for you, and I never will.”

“Tell that to the tears in your eyes, love. You like me, and you know it.”

“I don’t fucking like you!” She yelled, running her fingers through her hair, Van’s smile getting wider by the second.

“You do, and it’s fucking hilarious. You were the one who told me not to fall in love, and here you are, crushing on me like a schoolgirl.” He laughed, his hands falling from behind his head to clutch his stomach.

“You’re a fucking dick, McCann,” she chuckled out, pushing him down onto the bed. She slipped on her shoes, pulling her jacket over her shoulders. “This is the last time you’ll see me for a good while. I hope you remember what I taste like, if not. You know how to reach me.”

And that was it, she disappeared from Van’s life without ever telling him her name. They’d text each other updates, Van telling Y/N all about the cities his in. He’d always ask to call, but she’d deny him the pleasure of hearing her voice again. But he’d be surprised when in the next couple of nights, she’d call him.

“Hello?”

“You’re in London, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“I need a favor.” And that was that, Van McCann would drive forty minutes to pick her up from the airport. They’d stay silent in the car ride back to his hotel room. Her flight had been cancelled, leaving her with nowhere to go. She didn’t want to bother him, but she’d kept up with Catfish and the Bottlemen’s whereabouts and had found he was right where she was. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Only way you’re getting out of this car, love, is if you tell me your name.”

“I’ll give you the first initial, that’s my offer.” He pondered it for a minute, wondering if it was worth it. The idea of car sex had never looked good until now.

“Fine, but only cause I’m tired, and I could really use some sleep.”

“It’s Y/F/I.” He proceeded to ask her over and over if her name was this, that, and more. She’d deny every name, even though he’d say it over and over. But he kept on guessing, having Y/N follow him to his room. She’d put her stuff down on the couch that lay off to the side. He shook his head, making her put her stuff on the bottom of the closet floor. She chuckled to herself, before casually moving her bag. “You’re fucking annoying, you know that?”

“And you are stuck in a hotel room with me until you can schedule a new flight. What do you wanna do to kill time?” He asked, a smirk playing on his lips. He prayed she’d want to have sex again, his body aching for hers.

“I guess we could have fun like old times, but I’d have to tell you my name first, wouldn’t I?” She asked, biting her lip afterwards. He nodded, grabbing the tips of her fingers with his. She walked slowly towards him, regaining that spot on his lap that completely belonged to her. “It’s Y/N.”

“Good, now we can fall in love and have a shit ton of babies. In fact, babymaking starts now!”