#i went so out of my comfort zone for this lmao! but its refreshing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imjusttpeachy · 4 years ago

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the early bird gets the panini (c.h.)

well this is quite the change of pace isn’t it. lmao i figured u guys needed a break from the crying so here’s... whatever this is

thank u all new followers!! u jus made a big mistake💞🦋

u guys should search up “my very real collab with 50 cent” by corpse if you haven’t heard it yet, i ascended the first time i listened lmaoooo

playlist

the wombats - greek tragedy

aminé - heebiejeebies

free nationals - beauty and essex

the marías- let my baby stay

summary: Corpse interrupts the reader’s morning livestream after she left him alone in bed that morning. Fluff and fuckery ensues.

word count: 2, 326

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns, coarse language

>>>

“Okay, Tom Nook is the most bitch-ass motherfucker I’ve ever met. I could fold him like a panini with a slap I swear to god.”

Mornings were definitely one of your favourite times to stream. Of course, you loved staying up into the early hours of the morning only kept awake by the energy drinks running through your veins and the screaming of your friends over your headset, but nothing could beat the sweet simplicity of waking up with your watchers. It was always so calm, your anxiety levels at a low with the small audience building up slowly as more of them woke up. Reading those good morning messages saying that you helped to start their day off on a good foot— nothing would beat that.

The only downside to these scheduled morning streams was having to tear yourself away from the cozy warmth of your bed, especially if there was a certain someone blanketed over you silently persuading you to stay there forever. It was always a rare sight, bruised eyes sealed shut, long eyelashes kissing pale cheeks as small snores escaped from slightly parted lips. Glancing down at the messy black mop that rested on top of your chest, you sighed softly. You knew he’d only been asleep for a few hours, if that, thinking back to the night before where you crawled into bed alone after kissing him goodnight before leaving him to finish editing for his latest video. He worked too hard, but despite you reminding him this every single time he stayed up into the dark hours of the night to finish his work, he always never seemed to be satisfied. Most of the time you were able to coax him from the stuffy confines of his gaming office, bribing him with sweet kisses and promises of cuddles; when he was in the zone, though, nothing could steer his sore eyes away from the monitor. So with a sweet kiss goodnight, you’d make your way to the bedroom, falling asleep to the faint click-clacks of his keyboard.

It was funny how different you were in that aspect. You always loved mornings, the sun shining through the blinds always brought a smile to your face holding the promise of a bright day ahead. It felt good to never be in a rush, to enjoy the still air, and watch the world around you wake up as people settled into their daily routines. The day’s chaos always seemed to leak through into the dark of the night, but in the morning everything felt new and refreshed; the perfect new beginning to another chapter in the story of your life. Though, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of staying in bed tangled together with your favourite person every so often wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Okay, maybe it was almost every day.

But who could say no when those strong arms encased you so perfectly, holding you so close you couldn’t figure out where you ended and where he started? Who could say no to his warm skin pressed against your own, the weight of his body grounding you as you pulled yourself from the darkness of sleep? Who could say no to being able to study his face up close, running your fingertip ever so lightly along the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheekbones, watching his eyelids flutter as he stirred softly in his sleep? Who could say no to the pillow talk you shared once those pretty eyes opened, the deep grumble of his morning voice that prickled goosebumps over your skin as he muttered those 3 sweet little words?

Definitely not you.

Well, not often anyway.

Reluctantly pulling your gaze away from the sweet face resting on your chest, you glanced over to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Red numbers reading 9:37 AM that seemed to be glaring back at you pushed any thought of indulging in your morning pleasures straight from your mind. You’d need to be live in 20 minutes. Puffing another sigh from your lips you slowly worked your way out from underneath your personal weighted blanket, trying your best to maneuver him softly onto the pillows to not wake him. Of course, you’d never be that lucky. Hissing through your teeth as your feet hit the icy top of the hardwood floor, you whipped your head around as a warm hand encased your wrist in a loose grip. Beneath messy bed head that could barely be seen from underneath the comforter that you had pulled back on top of him, you see the glimpse of tired eyes clouded with confusion peering out from underneath.

“Angel?” The deep grumble muttered underneath his breath almost made you throw all your plans to the wind and crawl right back into the fluffy clouds you longed to once again get lost in. Huffing out a sigh you slowly turned around, pulling your hand from his grasp only to bury it in the dark locks buried among the pillows. You leaned down softly, pushing your hands through his hair to reveal soft pleading eyes staring back at you, doing nothing but making your heart ache for having to leave so soon. Trancing your thumb along his eyebrow to try and smooth the small furrow that had made its home between them, you sighed softly.

“It’s Thursday, gotta stream puppy.” You watched as a small flash of recognition passed across his bleary eyes, a puff escaping his lips from under the comforter as you watched his chest fall slightly. Pulling his head up from the comforter, you smiled as you felt chapped lips press a small kiss to the inside of your wrist in understanding. Allowing yourself a bit of fun you leaned down pressing your lips to his briefly, giggling softly as a whine escaped his mouth as you pulled away. “Promise I won’t be long, I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

“Too late for that.”

>>>

Smiling as you glanced up at your monitor that held your live chat, you watched as your viewers lost it with your threat to an animated shopkeeper. Times like this are what remind you of how grateful you are to your subscribers, they were practically family at this point and you felt you couldn’t be luckier to have such genuine, warm-hearted people that wanted to watch; even when you were cussing out characters that did nothing to you. You were laughing as you read some of the chat replies out loud when you saw your phone light up with a text from where it was sitting on your desk. Excusing yourself for a moment from the stream you grabbed your phone seeing a message from Corpse.

Corpsie💞💞: did you order coffee? someone knocked on the door and there’s a paper bag on the step

Cursing to yourself quietly for forgetting, you answered him quickly saying that you just needed to cut to a break on stream and you’d be out in a minute to grab it. He was wary of even opening the front door these days, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. The last time you had driven out to pick up whatever was sent into his P.O. Box, there were people waiting outside the building. When you went inside to grab everything, you asked the teller what exactly they were waiting for, to which he told you that they were hoping to catch a glimpse of this faceless internet star as this is where he’d go to get his mail. You don’t think you’ve ever walked faster to your car— trying your best to not grab their attention though your body was shaking with adrenaline, knowing they might’ve seen him while he was waiting there for you. Practically throwing open the driver's door, you tossed everything haphazardly into the back seat, telling Corpse to pull up his hood and mask as you started the car and peeled out of there. That was the last time he left the house.

You sighed, dropping your phone back on your desk as well as the switch that had been sitting in your lap, beginning to explain that you needed a quick break to get your coffee and starting to click through the settings to set up your break screen when you saw your phone light up again.

Corpsie💞💞: nah don’t worry i got it

You barely had time to sit back in your chair as you stared at your phone in disbelief before there was a soft knocking on your office door.

“Just kidding guys, apparently we have a kind guest who’s bringing it to me instead.”

Corpse hearing your voice from behind the door, it swung open to reveal your mop-headed lover sporting his cute plaid pyjama pants and yesterday’s hoodie as he held your coffees and bag in his hand. You grinned to yourself, moving out of the frame of the webcam as you reached out to grab everything, placing it on your desk before turning back to him with a wide smile. Reaching back for his hand, you pulled it down toward you, his body following as your other hand reached up to bury itself in his bedhead. You leaned forward and pressed a small peck onto his lips, mumbling a soft thank you against them as you kissed him once more. While this may have looked like the most simple gesture you knew how difficult it must have been for him, almost wanting to cry at how sweet he was to go to those lengths to do something a little special for you. As you pulled away, you smiled as his face mirrored yours, those soft rosy lips pulled into the sweetest grin you’d ever seen. Resting his forehead against yours, he mumbled back a small “anything for you princess,” the deep rumble of his morning voice sending a chill up your spine as you leaned forward again to steal another sweet kiss. Finally pulling away from you he stood up to his full height, a yawn escaping his mouth; though as he looked back toward the door you could sense his hesitation and grinned widely up at him.

“Do you wanna sit with me for a bit? I can just turn off the camera.” Giggling softly, you watched his head practically whip back toward you nodding a yes as he squeezed your hand, still intertwined with his. Reluctantly pulling it from his grasp, you pulled yourself back toward your monitors as you began to click through your stream settings.

“Well, your favourite guest has decided to grace us with his presence for a little so I’m gonna have to turn off face-cam, but I don’t think you guys will have a problem with that.” You laughed out, watching as your chat began to surge with messages about him. Making sure there was no way you could accidentally turn on the webcam again, you gestured him over to you starting to stand from your chair to grab the other one sitting in the corner of the office when a hand grasped yours, a strong tug pulling you completely off it with; a small yelp escaped your lips as you fell clumsily into your boyfriend's chest. You could hear his laugh from above you as he maneuvered you around in his arms before falling back onto your chair and pulling you into his lap, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck where you could feel that smug grin that was surely painted on his face. With his arms wrapped around you completely, holding you securely to his chest you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Looking up at the chat a laugh was pulled from your lips as your watchers conspired against you, message after message accusing you of doing something unspeakable behind the camera as being the reason you turned it off.

“Guys, literally nothing is happening.” You laughed out, watching as the chat passed so fast you couldn’t even read a full sentence. “Corpse just decided he wanted to share a chair instead of getting his own.”

“Yeah, my bad.” With no trace of any remorse in his monotone answer, another laugh escaped from your lips. Leaning forward to grab your switch and actually start playing again, you settled back into Corpse’s lap knowing this is exactly where you wanted to be. You were only a few minutes back into the game, Corpse and you occasionally reading out some live chat comments excited about his surprise appearance as viewers slowly climbed— his own watchers joining to watch the stream, when he inevitably started to fuck with you. A chill snaked up your spine as you began to feel small kisses trailing up your neck, you should’ve known this was one of the reasons he wanted to have you in his lap— it was easier to get your attention this way. You could feel that smug little smile drift back onto his face as he heard your voice start to shake slightly; at those moments he’d pull away and start replying to messages before turning back and starting all over again. It was the fourth time he began to press those soft lips to the base of your throat when you shrugged him off and shoved the breakfast sandwich you were snacking on into his face.

“Okay, if you want to share a chair you’re gonna have to behave.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry baby, sorry.” Corpse laughed out, voice muffled from behind the sandwich; taking a bite of it and placing it back in front of you, his chest still shaking with laughter. Deciding to hook his chin over your shoulder instead, he went back to watching the live chat, chatting and answering questions— that is before he came across a certain comment that had him furrowing his brows in confusion.

“What’s this about you folding Tom Nook like a panini?”

>>>

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse husband x y/n

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steppedoffaflight · 4 years ago

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Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 1

“You know, if they’re really buggin’ you…” Van’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the soft background noise of the street. He gives another one of his shrugs, as if what he’s about to say next isn’t important. “We could head back up to my room,” He finishes.

Your annual birthday trip with your best friend to San Diego ends in a chance encounter with Van McCann.

A/N: Clearly I’ve just created this blog and popped up out of nowhere, but I wanted somewhere separate to post my writing. This is a full length fic that is (almost) finished and I plan to post a new chapter once a week. It’s incredibly long and I’ve been working on this universe forever so if you’d like to come talk about it in my ask please do lmao.

Word count: ~11k

Chapter One

January 2019

Every single year you debate driving down to San Diego for your birthday.

But once you’re there, welcomed into the city by bustling shops and their neon signs, the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the comfort of your usual hotel and the good company you bring with you, you never doubt this tradition.

It started three years ago, making this your fourth trip down here. At first it had been impulsive, a dangerous combination of your desire to run away after dealing with your family for the Christmas holidays and your best friend Mary’s down-for-anything attitude. You two had packed up and made the 3 hour drive from L.A., making a hotel reservation on the fly. After a relaxing weekend shopping, laying out on the beach, and forgetting about all the chaos of the holidays, you two returned back home refreshed, renewed, and determined to make this a usual thing.

And so it became. The next January you two made your return voyage, this time scheduling the trip so it landed on your birthday, which only amplified the excitement and festivities. That’s how the tradition remained; despite internal debates between you and Mary about whether you could afford it, and whether the drive was worth it when you could easily do something fun closer to home, you two faithfully continued to celebrate your birthday in this fashion.

This year is no different from any other, except for the addition of Theo, Mary’s boyfriend. She was dating him on your last birthday, but not long enough for you two to guarantee he wouldn’t spoil your fun. By this year, however, he was practically a second best friend to you, fitting into you and Mary’s clique nicely.

After a long, afternoon car ride in traffic under the blistering California sun and a two-hour debate over the music, the three of you have finally arrived and checked in to your hotel. And once you’re finally out on the hotel room balcony, looking down at the sprawling view of the beach and sparkling ocean, you know that despite your doubts this was so worth it.

After getting settled in and some light shopping, your first order of business is getting some food, preferably something greasy and carb-y. Thankfully, there’s a bar right across the street from the hotel that has excellent reviews and some amazing photos of bar burgers online, so you three decide to have dinner there.

It’s a quaint place, a narrow building fighting for sidewalk space, but considering its positive reputation and its proximity to the hotel it’s packed. It takes a good forty-five minutes to be seated at a small round table near the outer edge of the room, and still some time after that for someone to be available to place your orders, but eventually everyone has hot food and cold drinks.

And even after the food is gone the drinks keep flowing, the three of you ringing in your annual trip by ordering rounds of whatever drink name sounded the most interesting.

“You know,” Mary starts when Theo brings back a tray of mixed drinks that have sliced strawberries laying at the bottom of the glass, “I think that guy’s been staring at you.”

You roll your eyes. “Stop.”

“I’m serious!” Mary insists, her voice raising slightly. “I thought maybe he was into Theo, but he didn’t check him out when he went to get drinks. He’s been glancing at you.”

“Lost another man to Y/N,” Theo shrugs.

“You’ve lost zero men to me,” you correct him sternly, “Because men are not interested in me.”

“Not true!” Mary argues. “I’m literally watching someone be interested in you!”

“Is he a creep?” You lean forward to whisper. Mary keeps glancing over your shoulder, so you know he’s behind you, and you’re absolutely determined not to turn around and make a scene trying to take a peek at him.

“No! He seems normal.”

You sigh. She’ll never get off your case unless you humor her. “What’s he look like?”

Mary narrows her eyes, takes a long sip of her drink, and seems to mull over her next words. “Really… normal. Floppy kinda hair. But not in a Justin-Bieber-swoopy way, ya know? Clean shaven. Simple clothes. Can’t really see if he’s got tattoos or anything.”

You try to piece together a mental image. “What color hair?”

“Eh. It’s hard to see in this light. I think brown. Maybe black?”

“How do you know he’s looking at me?”

“He’s not like, staring at you,” Mary looks down quickly, pretends to be interested in the drink menu. “Oh fuck, I think he saw me looking.” She points to a random picture of a drink, pretending to look interested. “He’s mostly on his phone, but he’ll glance over once in a while.”

“Who’s he with?”

“Nobody. I think.”

“So he’s just sitting at a table alone?”

“He’s not at a table,” Mary chances a glance up. “He’s sitting at the bar. I haven’t seen him talk to anyone so yeah, I think he’s here alone.”

“Good to know,” you murmur, taking a long sip of your drink. “Anyway…”

Your efforts to get a new conversation going last for a little while, but Mary stays persistent.

“You should go get us another round,” She suggests.

You narrow your eyes at her, lifting your half-full glass. “We don’t need another round!”

“I do,” She insists, and with an obnoxious slurping noise she gulps up what’s left in her glass through her straw.

“That’s lovely,” You nod, “Enjoy grabbing yourself one.”

Theo snorts at that. Mary is not amused.

“Y/N!” She huffs.

“What?” An edge of irritation has crept into your voice from her persistence. “Why are you always trying to matchmake me? I’m just trying to enjoy my birthday weekend!”

“Hey, you’re the one that told me you wanted this year to be different for you! You know, try new things, put yourself out there, get out of your comfort zone, all that good stuff! What better place to put yourself out there than somewhere away from home?”

You let out a long, agitated sigh. Of course Mary would turn the heart-to-heart you guys had last week into excuses for her meddling.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You huff. “I didn’t mean pick up a random creepy stranger the second I get to San Diego! I more meant, like, I wanted to go on more dates! Have more nights out with you! Get a better job!”

“Plus,” You continue, encouraged by her silence, “I was talking about the year in general. No need to rush into this weekend!”

Mary lets you finish, listening carefully to your rebuttal. But you know better, bracing yourself for her next point after she takes a long sip of her drink.

“Obviously, you have all year.” She states it like it’s an obvious fact, adjusting the hair hanging over her shoulder. “But hear me out, and stay with me here: To set up the rest of the year so that you can enjoy yourself, like freely going on dates, you’re going to have to break your dry spell.” She says the last part with her hands pressed together in prayer position, her fingertips pointing towards you.

Mary lets the first part of her message sink in while it’s your turn to sip your drink. When you’re done you fidget with your straw, eager for something to do while your cheeks heat up in a mild blush. It’s not like it’s any secret that you’ve been busy and haven’t been on a date in a… long time, and as a consequence have not been having sex, but you can’t help but duck your head, feeling called out.

“So to enjoy the rest of the year, you’ve got to do some preparation. Like jumping in a pool, right? If you want to swim, you’ve got to get in the cold water first. So I’m saying have some fun this weekend, and then you’ll be warmed up to do all the crazy, uncomfortable shit you want to this year.”

She was right, but you won’t admit it. And even if she’s right, there’s still no chance, ever, in a million years, that you’re going to go hit on a random guy at the bar.

“Mary,” You say sternly, “I am not hitting on a random ass man in this bar. The end.”

Theo, well-accustomed to the bickering that occasionally happens between you guys, finally clears his throat. Mary doesn’t say anything either. It’s obvious that the conversation is over, and the matchmaking topic is best dropped for the time being.

You take the last sip of your drink, surprised when the straw slurps.

“I’m gonna go get another round,” You tell them, and don’t bother to take their orders. You use the moment to collect yourself, heading for the bathroom first, and that’s when you see him.

He’s just as Mary described; hunched over his phone, thumbing the screen while he takes idle sips from a bottle of beer. He’s in a dark jacket, collar pulled tight to his neck, and dark jeans. You can see his knee bouncing anxiously where it’s bent so that his feet can rest on the bar of the stool. As you pass by him, a necessary evil to get to the bathroom, he looks up. He looks away just as quick, but his eyes flit back to yours, the two of you making awkward eye contact for a millisecond before he’s looked away yet again. He sets his phone down on the bar, his fingers nervously running through his hair as he looks to the bartender as if he’s going to order, but you notice he doesn’t. You’re overly aware of the breeze between your bodies as you awkwardly step behind him, but once you’ve shimmied between him and another table you’re in the clear, ducking your head down and trying to make it to the bathroom a little faster.

When you head back to the table you make sure to walk around the perimeter of the room, avoiding the bar altogether.

The rest of the night is as fun as can be. Matchmaking topics are dropped, Mary is in a better mood when you return, and the drinks keep flowing until suddenly it’s last call.

“Aw,” Mary groans as the bartender makes the announcement a second time. “But I’m still having fun! What sort of bar in a city this busy isn’t open twenty-four hours?”

“That is pretty dumb on their part,” You nod. “They could make a lot of money.”

“Should we grab something? Or call it a night?” Theo asks, gesturing to his empty beer bottle.

“We have been here a while,” You realize when you check the time on your phone, which has been forgotten in the business of today. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

There’s a reluctant agreement to that until you guys stand up, shuffling your chairs back in place.

“Wait!” Mary exclaims, eyes shining as she throws her bag over her shoulder. “The hotel bar is open all night!”

Everyone’s mood seems to perk up at that suggestion, and you chew it over as you flip through your wallet, looking for some cash to pay your tab. You should probably be exhausted by now, considering the day you’ve had, but the hustle and bustle of the city at night makes it hard for you to feel tired.

“We could…” You trail off, glancing at Theo. He seems into the idea too, and by the time the three of you have paid your tabs and merged with the crowd of people heading for the doors, your plans to continue the night are set.

The sun had set when you guys make it outside, the sky blanketing the street in a navy blue, barely any stars visible from the light pollution. The neon light from the bar sign shines over the cement, and for a moment in the quiet air the chime of the door opening and closing is the only sound.

“C’mon,” Mary giggles, and you realize you've been swimming in your own thoughts, drunker than you expected to be. She leads the way, fearlessly dashing onto the street as you and Theo stumble behind. You can see headlights making their way towards you, but they’re far enough away and you cross safely.

As soon as the car passes, and the street is shrouded in darkness again, you see him. The guy in the dark jacket is crossing too, a little ways down the road, hands buried in his pockets, head bowed towards the ground.

Instantly his presence sets you on high alert, your stomach feeling uneasy and heart palpitating. Theo and Mary are already headed through the hotel doors and you follow behind them, praying the guy hasn’t seen you. He was far enough down the street that it didn’t seem like he was coming to the hotel, but you can’t shake the fear that there’s a sinister connection between the way Mary and Theo said he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and the way you were both headed in the same direction.

The hotel lobby is warm and glowing, and despite the late hours there are still people bustling about. You usher Mary and Theo away from the doors under the guise of trying not to block anyone’s way. You check over your shoulder in a fit of paranoia, but there’s no strange man in a dark jacket to be seen through the glass. You breathe a small sigh of relief.

“I need to go back up to the room,” Mary announces, and you see she’s examining herself in the black screen of her phone. “My makeup’s smeared everywhere.”

“I’m sure mine is too,” You agree. “Let’s head up there real quick.”

“I’m gonna go have a smoke, then,” Theo says, “So just come meet me out there when you’re done. Don’t take forever!”

You and Mary promise not to take too long before heading for the elevators, unsteady on your feet and overly giggly.

You realize that Mary was right as one of you finally gets the room key to work, and you both dash to fix yourselves up as quick as you can. You didn’t feel the slightest bit tired, and instead you were actually excited to keep the night going. Maybe it was just the alcohol pumping through your veins, but you felt a sudden surge of gratefulness for her as you dabbed away a bit of smeared mascara from your under eye.

“You were right,” you say out loud.

Mary is leaned over the bathroom sink next to you, and you watch her eyebrows furrow. “About what?”

“Tonight,” You say, grabbing for your hairbrush. San Diego humidity has made your hair resemble a frizzy bird’s nest, and you try to smooth it back out. “It’s just got that kind of vibe, you know? You were right about needing a round two.”

“Right?” Mary gestures with her hands, makeup sponge almost hitting you in the face.

“You’re good at getting me out of my comfort zone,” You admit.

“Exactly!” Mary seems overjoyed at this admission, and she turns to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “That’s what best friends are for! That’s my fucking job! And I’m fucking good at it!”

You two realize how drunk you sound and burst out laughing, steadying yourselves on the marble counter.

“Okay, okay,” You say as you start to catch your breath, “C’mon, Theo’s waiting!”

“Ah, fuck him,” Mary jokes, gathering up her things and shoving them back into her purse before following you out into the hall.

“Speaking of,” Mary groans, before bringing her phone up to her ear. “Hi, babe!” She chirps happily, before rolling her eyes at you. You can’t stifle your laughter.

“We’re headed downstairs right now,” Mary confirms as she pushes the call button on the elevator. “Okay, we’ll come to you.”

Down in the lobby, you two navigate your way out of the hotel and around the corner of the building, based on the instructions Theo had given Mary on the phone.

“Hey,” Mary greets Theo when she rounds the corner. You’re right behind her, but when you turn the corner you stop in your tracks.

“Hey, guys,” Theo greets you both easily. Mary is tucking herself under his arm while another figure standing next to him watches. You recognize the dark jacket instantly, and your mouth goes dry.

You realize you’re an awkward distance away from your friends, and force yourself to step closer, watching the other man take a puff of his cigarette.

“This is Van,” Theo tells you both, taking a drag of his cigarette. He exhales before motioning between you two. “Van, this is Mary, my girlfriend, and this is Y/N, her best friend.”

“Ah, Mary, that’s me mum’s name,” the british accent that comes out of the stranger startles you, and you watch as Van reaches his hand out for a handshake with Mary. “Lovely name,” He laughs. Mary takes his hand happily, and they laugh about her name for a brief moment before he’s suddenly turned to you.

“And Y/N, that’s a great name too,” You can see his grin in the darkness. “Don’t know anyone named that, but it’s a lovely name regardless.” He extends his hand to you, and you swallow thickly as you take it. His hand envelops yours, and there’s a warmth that lingers even after the handshake is done.

“So’s Van,” You say after you’ve realized how impolite your silence must seem. “Never met anyone with that name either.”

“Yeah, It’s after Van Morrison,” He quips, “But when I was born my name was Ryan. Bet you’ve met someone with that name.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Mary speaks up suddenly. You smile at the mention of an ex-fling.

“Bad associations, huh?” Van seems to find it funny, beaming at her. “Well everyone calls me Van, so hopefully that’ll be alright.”

“Anyway, before you guys walked out, I was just telling Van that he should join us tonight,” Theo chimes in. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yeah!” Mary, of course, is all for the idea even as your stomach continues to do somersaults. How strange was it that this guy actually was headed for the hotel? And even more strange that he ended up chatting with Theo!

Thankfully nobody notices your silence as Van tries to brush off the invite, Theo and Mary playfully pressuring him into it.

“Please!” Mary begs, “It’ll be so fun. It’s Y/N’s birthday, so the more the merrier!”

Van turns back toward you, face still covered in the grin that hasn’t left from the moment he shook your hand.

“Is it really?” He inquires, cocking his head.

“Tomorrow, technically,” You explain. “As in, it’s past midnight right now, so there’s all of today, and then it’s my birthday.”

“Oh, cheers, happy birthday. How old are ya?”

“Gonna be 24.”

“Ah, I loved 24,” Van lights up, taking a puff of his cigarette before gesturing with his hands. “One of the best years ever. Had the best fucking time.”

“How old are you, then?” You can’t help but ask.

“‘M 26. Gonna be 27 in the summer.”

“Oh. You made it sound like you were way older. Scared me.” The nagging anxiety that he’s some murderer that’s stalking you still tugs at your chest, but something about him keeps the conversation flowing, you volunteering information without thinking about it.

“Nah. Seems like forever ago, though.”

“So you’ll get drinks with us?” Mary cuts in excitedly.

“Well, I guess that’s up to the birthday girl,” Van laughs, gesturing to you. “Am I invited to the party?”

All of the sudden Theo, Mary, and Van are looking at you expectantly, and what were you supposed to do then?

“I mean, why not?” You can’t help but laugh, more in disbelief at how this night is turning out. “Like Mary said, the more the merrier, right?”

“Mary’s are always right,” Van nods in agreement. Him and Theo snuff out their cigarettes on the sidewalk before heading around the corner back towards the main doors.

You and Mary lag behind, Mary silently clapping in encouragement and you widening your eyes in an attempt to portray your anxiety.

“You said I was right about tonight!” She hisses as you two head through the front doors.

“About having more drinks!” You hiss back. “He’s some weirdo that’s been watching me all night and then followed me to the hotel!” You glance around for him, worried he heard, but thankfully you spot him with Theo heading into the hotel bar.

“Because you’re both at the same hotel and went across the street for drinks?” Mary asks, dubious. “He seems super nice!”

Your conversation dies out as you follow the boys to the table. It’s a small four-seater nestled in the corner, and with Mary naturally sitting next to Theo that leaves you next to Van.

In a quick motion Van’s grabbed the back of your chair from where he’s sitting, pulling it out for you.

“Oh, thanks,” You tell him, taken aback as you sit down.

“No problem,” He says casually, turning back towards Theo and continuing their conversation. You and Mary make eye contact, her eyes widening in what you can tell is pure delight.

“Let’s grab drinks,” Mary announces suddenly, hand coming to rest on Theo’s arm. He goes with her easily, leaving you and Van alone for a moment.

“I never get used to this kind of thing,” Van says. He turns toward you, but he’s looking past you at the rest of the bar. “Places being so busy at night.”

“That’s L.A. for you,” You sigh. “I guess technically we aren’t in L.A. right now, though. But still.”

Van nods in understanding. “Are you from L.A?”

“No,” You shake your head. “I’m from the midwest. From a much, much smaller town. But I live in L.A.”

“Ah. I’ve got a place there, too,” He tells you.

“Obviously you’re not from there,” You say, unable to help the smile that makes its way onto your face at the unspoken joke.

Van’s signature grin is back. “Obviously not,” He laughs. “Nah, I’m from somewhere much, much smaller, too. From the U.K., obviously.”

“Obviously,” You echo him, and you two share a smile before drinks are being set on the table, Mary and Theo having returned.

“So, Van,” Mary begins as she hands out everyone’s drinks. Van must’ve told Theo what he wanted, because there’s one for him that he accepts graciously. “What brings you to San Diego?”

“I’m in a band, actually. We’re called Catfish and the Bottlemen,” Van admits, taking a sip of his beer. “We’re on tour right now. Had a show here tonight.”

“No way! Where did you guys play?”

“The House of Blues.”

Mary sputters on her drink. “Holy shit!”

Van laughs, taking another sip. “Yeah, it was fucking incredible.”

“Sounds amazing,” Mary agrees. “We’ll have to check you guys out!”

“Yeah, for sure,” Van nods eagerly. “Y/N was just sayin’ she lives in L.A., next time we’re around there I could get you guys some tickets.”

“That’d be perfect,” Mary beams at him.

“You’re up late!” You can’t help but blurt out. You’d checked your phone while Mary and Van were talking, and it’s closer to morning than you thought.

You realize everyone at the table is looking at you and clear your throat, putting your phone face down back on the table. “I just mean, aren’t you exhausted? After doing a whole show?”

“Nah,” Van shrugs. “It’s such a rush, the adrenaline keeps me going after. I can’t just head back to the hotel and go to sleep. Keeps my heart pumping, you know?”

You nod, even though you can’t personally identify with the experience. Just like that, any awkwardness from your random exclamation is soothed away from Van’s laid-back response, and as conversation continues to flow easily again you can’t help but marvel at his charisma. Maybe Mary was right about him not being a potential murderer.

Van’s the first to notice when everyone’s low on drinks, and politely offers to go grab another round. Everyone else had been too preoccupied in their current discussion, which consisted of questioning Van on the different aspects of U.K. culture and stereotypes.

“Y/N, go help him,” Mary tells you, peering at you over the rim of her almost-empty glass. You blush and roll your eyes, but you listen.

Van’s already standing at the bar, so you try to strategize the least awkward way to come up behind him. Thankfully, he sees you out of the corner of his eye, turning towards you and giving you a small smile.

“Hey,” You start nervously, leaning on the countertop next to him. “Just thought you could use some help carrying this stuff back.”

“I could, actually,” Van smiles gratefully. “I ordered it before I realized there were four of us. Was kinda hoping you’d be the one to come help.”

You blush at his words, but try desperately not to read too much into it. “Sorry,” You say suddenly, and Van’s head cocks in confusion.

“About us grilling you back there,” You explain. “I’m sure you get those questions all the time. It’s probably annoying.”

Van’s easy-going shrug makes another appearance while you two watch the bartender mix up your drinks.

“I don’t mind,” He replies. “You guys are proper funny. Anything you wanna know, I’m happy to tell ya.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, another potentially awkward moment dissolving.

Midway through his beer, Van starts shouldering on his coat, which had been hanging on the back of his chair. Your stomach sinks as you realize this is probably his way of saying goodbye.

“Gonna head out for a smoke,” He tells the table, then nods to Theo. “You need one?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Theo declines, but there’s an edge to his voice that sounds like he’s being dishonest. You mull over why he just wouldn’t go have one when Mary pipes up.

“Y/N, you look like you need some air.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

Van hesitates where he’s been pushing his chair back in.

“You’ve been yawning,” Mary explains, and her eyes widen at you for just a quarter of a second, trying to convey an urgent message. “Go get some fresh air.”

You can already feel your stomach tying itself in knots at the idea of being alone with Van. It was one thing to enjoy easy conversation with him in a group setting, never mind how he’s had to iron out your awkwardness more than once. It was a whole other thing to go pester him when you’re sure he wanted a minute alone. You stay frozen in your seat.

“Can’t have you yawning,” Van says from behind you, and you feel the back of his hand brush your shoulder playfully. “C’mon.”

You swallow hard but give in to the peer pressure, slowly rising from your seat. You glare at Mary before you turn to Van, who nods his head towards the door as you two head out together.

It’s a silent walk outside and around the corner, to the same spot you’d first met Van in just a couple hours prior. He fishes a box of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and pops one into his mouth, offering the open box to you.

“You smoke?” He inquires.

“No,” You tell him, and he goes to put the box back. “But gimme one,” You say quickly.

Van doesn’t question it, offering the box to you again. You pick one and Van fishes out a lighter.

“Ladies first,” He hums around his cigarette, and offers the flame of his lighter to you. Once your cigarette is lit he lights his own, and you watch him visibly relax as he takes his first drag.

Off the top of your head, you figure it’s been at least a year since you’ve had a cigarette. You’ve never done it as a habit, but you’re not opposed to having one on occasion, especially on nights like these when your nerves were making you crawl out of your skin. The taste isn’t pleasant, but it’s familiar, and it soothes you.

“I’m sorry about them,” You apologize after you two have had a moment of peace and quiet. “They’re being… obnoxious.”

Van tips his head back, exhaling a puff of smoke and laughing at the same time. “Ah, don’t be. I love ‘em.”

“That makes one of us,” You joke, soliciting another laugh from Van.

Silence lapses over you two, and it leaves too much space for you to realize how attractive he is, sneaking glances at his face the way you have been all night. You catch him looking at you and quickly divert your eyes down to the pavement. But when you look back up, he’s still looking.

Your stomach squeezes, sending any butterflies in there into an absolute frenzy. You stare at him in absolute shock as you try to process what he’s said.

“Or your room, if you prefer,” He tacks on, punctuating his offer with an inhale of his cigarette.

As he smokes you remember your own cigarette and take a puff from it, buying yourself time to try and weigh your options. It was hard to think rationally with your heart about to pound out of your chest, but in general the more the possibility turned over in your mind, the more your mind ticked off reasons it was a good idea; You were attracted to him, and if anything went wrong, you’d be in the safety of the hotel. Plus, besides for the fake-stalking incident you overreacted about, he hasn’t triggered one red flag, which is more than you can say about any date you’ve had in the past year.

“Well, considering we’re sharing a room,” You start, exhaling smoke, “it’s probably best if we go back to yours.”

Van laughs at that, tipping his head back to rest against the brick wall. “My room it is.”

You both finish up your cigarettes with a poignant silence hanging between you. It makes your mouth go dry and your hands shake, nerves getting the best of you, and you conceal it the best you can from Van, who seems cool as a cucumber. He’s looking at you openly now, desire written clearly on his face, and it feels like the temperature outside is rising when you meet his gaze.

“Ready to head back in?” He asks, done with his cigarette first, stomping it out.

You follow suit. “Yeah.”

Van keeps pace with you as you two head back into the hotel walking side-by-side, his hands buried in his pockets. He gets the lobby door for you, gesturing dramatically, and you laugh, feeling some of your anxiety melt away.

“I have to grab my bag,” You tell him as you two head for the elevators, which is past the hotel bar. “And tell them where I’m going.”

“Course,” Van replies, letting you lead the way to the bar.

You turn to him just as you’re about to walk in. “What’s your room number?”

A slight smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “337,” He tells you.

He hangs back as you head to the table, the gravity of what you’re about to tell Mary and Theo finally hitting you.

“Hey guys,” You say nervously as you approach. They’re wide-eyed and silent, obviously curious about how your moment alone with Van had gone.

“So, I’m gonna head up to his room,” You explain slowly, grabbing your bag off of the seat of your chair. “He’s in room 337 in case I go missing.”

“No way!” Mary exclaims, and you see her peering around your body towards where Van is standing. “I can’t fucking believe this!”

“Are you guys gonna be okay without me?” You ask. You’re mostly kidding, but there’s an edge to your voice. “I mean, this is for my birthday and all, so if you wanted me to stick around I-”

“Oh my god,” Mary says, exasperated, but she’s grinning. Theo is too. “Shut up and go! Get on with it!” She makes an exaggerated shooing gesture with her hands, before she mimes pushing you away from the table.

“Remember to use a condom!” Are her parting words as you head back to where Van’s leaned against the wall by the entrance.

“Like I said…” You say as you approach, knowing he’s seen the entire exchange even if he couldn’t hear it. He’s beaming, and when you look over your shoulder you see Theo and Mary giving you both a thumbs up, waving you away. “...Sorry about them.”

Van doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, leading the way to the elevator. It’s pretty late, the amount of people awake at this hour starting to become sparse, so the elevator comes immediately when Van calls it. Predictably, he lets you on first before he trails behind, punching the button for his floor.

The wait for the elevator to make it to the third floor is about as awkward as it usually is, maybe a little less considering there were no strangers in your breathing space. You flip through your phone even though it’s got no service and nothing will load, and Van opts to gaze around, looking lost in thought. When the elevator comes to a halt and the doors slide open, Van presses his hand to the seam of the doors so you can safely exit before he follows.

“Do you always let everyone go first?” You can’t help but ask as he leads you down the hall and around a corner.

“Um,” He seems confused at the question as he pats his pockets, clearly looking for the room key. “I mean, it’s different with my mates, but usually I do. Is that not something you do here?”

“Holding the door? Yeah, sure, but I’ve never met anyone who does it as… consistently as you.”

Van’s found the key card in the inner pocket of his jacket, and he comes to a stop in front of room 337.

“Raised with good manners, I guess,” Is his explanation as he gets the room unlocked. He turns the knob but still lets you in first, your bodies brushing slightly in the narrow doorway. It gives you goosebumps.

You don’t know what you were expecting to walk into, but you’re pleasantly surprised that his room is just like any other suite. It’s a bit more spacious than yours, but that’s due to the fact he’s only got one bed, a king bed that looks so soft it practically makes your eyes water. It’s still impeccably made, the entire room untouched except for his luggage arranged nicely by the room air conditioning unit.

“This room is nice,” He remarks from behind you after he’s put the chain on the door. “I haven’t been in here yet, not gonna lie, I was a little nervous about what we’d be walking in to.”

“Whose stuff is that?” You ask in confusion, pointing at the suitcases.

“Oh, that’s mine. Someone from the crew brings ‘em up.”

“I see,” You murmur, as Van shrugs his jacket off and slings it over the chair resting at the desk.

“Want something to drink?” He asks, and when you look at him you notice there’s a gift basket resting on the desk, a corked bottle of wine and glasses perfectly arranged inside.

“Yeah, sure,” You agree, setting your purse down on the desk while he procures a corkscrew from the basket.

“I’m gonna freshen up real quick,” You tell him as he goes about trying to open the bottle. You linger for just a moment, watching the way the tip of his tongue sticks out of his mouth in concentration and the fabric of his button up shirt strains over his arms before you walk away.

When you come back into the room Van’s sitting on the bed against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed over each other. He’s messing around on his phone, and on each of the bedside tables there’s a full glass of red wine, Van’s with slightly less than yours.

“Jeez, at least take your shoes off,” You laugh, his black boots looking sorely out of place on the white duvet. He looks up at you, then, his gaze following you while you make your way to the empty side of the bed and take a seat.

“Just my shoes?” He inquires, a mischievous smile appearing. But he sets his phone aside, leaning forward and unzipping his boots, chucking them off.

“And your socks, duh,” You joke, and he obeys, and soon his bare feet are exposed.

“That all?” He asks, the pitch of his voice lower than it’d been a second ago. It makes your heart skip a beat, and you swallow thickly.

In a sudden rush of boldness you reach over, giving the fabric of his button up a quick tug. “This too, maybe.”

“Ah, but it’s got so many buttons,” Van says in faux-concern. It’s so cheesy, and you can tell he knows it from the grin on his face, but you climb up onto your knees on the bed anyway.

“I can help,” You try to keep a straight face while you say it, but a laugh manages to bubble up despite your best efforts. Still, it doesn’t stop you from completing the task, undoing his buttons only to reveal a black t-shirt underneath.

“Sort of anti-climactic,” You tell him.

“S’ exactly why I needed help,” He tells you, leaning forward. “Two is just too much work.”

You slide your palms over his shoulders, easing the button up off of him. The slide of your hands against his arms is the first real skin-on-skin contact you’ve had, and the feeling of his smooth skin and soft hairs is strange and exciting.

“There you go,” You hum, tossing the shirt away from the bed. There’s a moment of panic where you wonder if maybe he’s someone who’s particular about his clothes, and you could’ve just thrown some sort of priceless designer shirt on the floor like it was nothing. But from the way he’s looking at you it’s clear a shirt on the floor is the last thing on his mind, and you exhale in relief.

“Alright, round two,” You say quietly, but Van shakes his head.

“I’ve got this one,” He murmurs. “Just needed help with the buttons.” One of the corners of his mouth quirks up, and suddenly he’s pinched the hem of your shirt between his index finger and his thumb and given it a slight tug. “You worry about yours.”

You oblige, trying to get your top over your head as gracefully as possible. Van’s tugged his t-shirt off in record time, and you jump when you feel his cold hands help you get your shirt the rest of the way off.

Instinctually you go for his belt, starting to get into the rhythm of how these things go. He lays there quietly while you get it unbuckled and tuck your fingers against the warm skin of his stomach to unbutton his jeans, and tilts his hips up obediently so you can shimmy them down his legs.

There’s a heavy moment where you take him in, laying back against the headboard in only his briefs. He’s got a smattering of dark hair no matter where you look; over his thighs, on his chest, in a thin line making its way under the waistband of his underwear.

“No fair.” Van finally interrupts your gazing. “I’m the only one not wearing pants.”

It takes all your willpower to rip your eyes away from his form, but you stand up from the bed, unbuttoning and starting to peel your skin tight jeans off of your legs. He watches you the whole time, and you blame his gaze and your self-consciousness for throwing you off balance as you kick your pants off of your ankles, almost falling over.

Van is sitting up straight in a flash, his hand shooting out to steady you. It lands on your hip, his fingers digging into the skin right above your underwear, and you look up at him, gasping in a mix of mortification and surprise.

“Ya good?” Van asks quietly as you steady yourself.

“Yeah, yeah,” You assure him, although you can feel your face heating up from the blunder. Van withdraws his hand and it feels like the most frustrating thing in the world, your body screaming for more.

“Sorry,” You apologize nervously as you get back on the bed, making your way over Van’s long legs and settling down next to him.

Van seems amused at your apology. “No worries,” He assures you, turning his head so he’s facing you. His face is way too close, self consciousness burning through you as you two examine each other from mere inches away.

His hand comes to rest on your side again, this time landing on the skin right under the band of your bra, and before you can inevitably make the moment awkward by any means necessary he’s leaned in, and your lips melt together.

It’s a bit chaste, but definitely not the worst kiss you’ve ever received. After a few beats Van pulls away.

“Sorry,” He grunts, shifting his body weight. “This is such a weird way to sit. My arm’s getting crushed.” He tries to move himself from where he’s pinned his shoulder against the headboard in order to face you.

You make the snap decision in that moment to slide down from where you’re sitting so that you’re laying down.

“Here,” You tell him, “Let’s try it this way.”

From the way Van’s eyes travel up and down your body, you know he’s caught your drift.

“Yeah,” He smirks, laying down next to you. With a few minor adjustments he’s got most of his body weight pressing you down onto the bed, his nose just barely brushing yours. “This might work a bit better.”

Then he’s kissing you again. You’ve already got the chills from the way his body is pressing tight against yours, but once the kiss deepens, Van’s tongue pressing into your mouth, you can’t help but shiver. Van feels it and must think you’re cold, because a second later his palm is rubbing over your arm like he’s trying to warm you up.

Any trace of chastity or awkwardness from the initial kiss has completely disappeared, revealing Van’s true talents as a kisser, and with every second that passes you feel him climbing up your makeout leaderboard. His mouth is absolutely incredible, and tastes like the glass of red wine he’s got sitting on the nightstand, and you can’t get enough, your hand instinctively coming to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. You don’t expect him to moan, the sound so satisfying your body reacts on it’s own, your back arching as much as it possibly can with him pressing you down. It only encourages Van, who exhales sharply out of his nose, the hot air brushing over your cheek, the kiss becoming more desperate.

You two separate to breathe, every inhale causing Van’s chest to brush against yours.

“Christ,” Van says quietly, and the way his voice is rough around the edges sends another shiver down your spine. He gets off of you, sitting up and reaching over for his glass of wine. You take the opportunity to sit up too, unclipping your bra and sending it over the edge of the bed. You cup your breasts in your hands, not yet ready for Van to see you exposed, but you work up some courage after a few moments, letting them go in favor of using your hands to shimmy out of your underwear.

There’s the soft clink of Van setting his wine glass back down, and when you dare to glance over at him his expression is neutral, his eyes flitting over you.

“No fair,” You start, but have to stop to clear your throat. Van’s eyes dart up to meet yours, listening intently.

“I’m the only one naked,” You parrot his joke from earlier, and give him a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” Van’s long fingers come up to scratch at his jaw. “I guess that isn’t very fair.” Within a handful of seconds he’s chucked his briefs on the floor.

He changes position then so that he’s resting on his knees, and you hold your breath while you get a proper look at him for the first time.

“Oh-” You start to speak, but you’ve got the common sense to swallow the rest of the sentence.

Van stills, waiting for you to finish.

“You’re… British,” You say sheepishly.

Van chuckles, looking down at himself. “M’ uncut,” He voices your exact thoughts.

You gulp, nodding, hoping you didn’t ruin the moment.

“Same thing underneath,” Van murmurs, wrapping a hand around himself. With the slide of his wrist the foreskin moves back, revealing the flushed head of his dick. “See? Works just the same,” he quips cheerfully, looking up at you.

“Right.” You nod. “Good to know.”

The kissing resumes after you two lay down again and Van can’t keep his hands off of you, stroking at your sides and stomach and eventually your thighs.

“This alright?” He asks, pointedly brushing one of his knuckles against your inner thigh.

“Yeah, yeah” you choke out, spreading your legs so he’s got access to you.

The first press of his soft, tentative fingertips against you makes your eyes squeeze shut, but you can’t hold back your moan when he starts working in tight circles.

He teases his way lower and lower, the only sound in the room your harsh breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. When he starts to feel his way inside, slowly and methodically easing in two fingers, your back arches up off of the mattress.

“Van-” You breathe, and feel his stomach clench from hearing his name.

“You can just-” It’s hard to get the words out with the way he’s pumping. “You should stop,” You manage finally. “We can just get started.”

Van’s fingers still, and you blink your eyes open slowly, greeted to his face mere inches from yours, his hooded eyes watching you.

“Yeah, I…” You breathe out, your face burning in self consciousness at the thought of him watching your face throughout that. “I’m definitely ready.”

“If you’re sure,” Van says slowly, and you feel his fingers slide out of you, leaving an awful empty feeling in their wake.

“Definitely sure,” You tell him, eager to feel full again. “Do you want me to…” You trail off, but Van understands the unspoken rest of your sentence.

“Probably best if you don’t,” He laughs quietly. “It’ll be over before things even get started.”

You nod against the pillows in understanding, and Van rolls over, hanging off of the edge of the bed for a moment until he rights himself, leather wallet in hand.

You watch him procure a condom from one of the folds, and then he’s getting up on his knees, shuffling so he’s in between your legs before ripping the wrapper and sliding it on.

“You settled? You ready?” He asks you, one hand on himself, the other resting on your hip, warm and reassuring.

“Yeah,” You tell him, nervously adjusting the way your knees are bent.

“Alright,” Van says quietly, and it sounds like it’s more meant for himself. There’s a few quiet moments and the sound of the duvet rustling before you feel the head of him press against you, warm and persistent, and your body adjusts for him instinctively, letting him inside.

It’s been a while since the last time you’ve had sex, but thankfully the warm mix of attraction and your drinks from earlier leave your body relaxed. Van looks like he feels the same, any tension in his face dissolving as he eases in, replaced instead by what looks like pure relief. You feel it too, sighing contentedly.

When Van’s done pressing in, the heady feeling making it hard to breathe, you two make eye contact, the spell that had you two so engrossed in yourselves broken.

“Good?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” You affirm. “Now get going.”

You say the last part with a smile that Van returns, and without further ado he starts trying to find the rhythm. He tests a few out while you shift your hips, attempting to find the perfect angle, and after a moment there’s a palpable feeling that you two have gotten it right, punctuated by Van’s sharp intake of breath.

The sound catches you off guard, in sync with another push in, and you gasp in surprise, one of your hands reaching out to grasp at the blankets. It only encourages Van to stay persistent in his thrusts, and you can’t help but groan.

“God,” You croak out. You release your death grip on the blankets, instead putting your hand on his back. You’re careful not to scratch him, but the feeling of him fucking you is amplified with the way you can feel his muscles strain under your hand. “Van,” You breathe.

You kept it quiet, the remnants of your usual self-consciousness still floating around in your head, but you can tell he’s heard.

“Ah, fuck,” Van moans, long and low, and your other hand comes up to grasp at him wherever it can reach as you feel the steady pulse of sparks down your spine.

Your hand lands on his shoulder blade, and it’s as if you’ve given Van some sort of unspoken permission. He leans forward, your lips meeting in a wet and clumsy kiss. It’s more panting in each other’s faces than it is actual making out, but your hand still slides from his shoulder to his jaw, taking care of guiding the kiss while he’s in his distracted state.

You can feel him starting to come apart, missing a beat with his hips every so often and letting out a whine when you take charge of deepening the kiss, tilting his jaw with slightly more force than necessary so you can lick into his parted lips. You’re getting close too, so you decide to let go of his face, instead slipping a hand between your bodies so you can start to rub at yourself.

Van’s head sinks down to your neck, kissing at any skin he can reach while you cry out at all the sensations your body’s trying to take in at once.

There’s a shift of Van’s body weight, his lips leaving your neck. You want to yell at him for taking his lips off of you but you’re too preoccupied with getting your fingers to match the pace he’s set, every moment in sync taking you closer to the edge.

Without any warning there’s the warm brush of the pad of his thumb against your nipple, and your whole body jolts with it.

You’re too distracted to moan but your jaw falls slack. That’s all the approval Van seems to need, starting a very light pace with his thumb, brushing over you back and forth.

“Is it good?” He asks quietly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You can hardly form a proper word with your mouth. “Huh?”

“This bit,” Van clarifies, and his thumb rubs your nipple more insistently. “Do you like that?”

“Yeah,” You manage, your eyes squeezing shut, closer than you thought. You can sense that Van understands the gravity of the moment, his movements all becoming very precise and impeccably consistent.

“Don’t stop,” You can’t help but beg.

“Won’t,” Van assures you quietly, and he holds true to his word, fucking into you and circling your nipple without fail as you feel your orgasm start to crash down upon you, squirming and calling out through the entire thing.

You lay there catching your breath when you’re done, Van free to set his own rhythm to get himself to the finish line. He speeds up, setting a frantic pace that you can hear as your skin slaps together with his.

“What do you need?” You slur, removing your hand from yourself in favor of rubbing over his back again.

“Nothin’,” Van answers, his voice tight and slightly higher-pitched. “Nothin’.”

You stay quiet, leaving him to it, and after a few ragged breaths you can feel the way his whole body goes rigid, thrusting fast but shallow as he rides out his climax, burying his head in your shoulder and biting down hard.

You yelp in surprise from the pinch of his teeth, but let him stay there until he’s done, when he releases you with a long, content sigh.

There’s nothing said as you two catch your breath, your brain attempting and failing to find words for the experience.

“Shit,” Van sighs after your breathing has slowed.

“Holy shit,” You agree. You’ve been looking up at the ceiling, but you turn to look at him. The angry red indent from his teeth against your shoulder catches your peripheral vision, and you crane your neck more fully, examining the crooked lines of his teeth pressed into your skin.

“Sorry,” Van says. “I didn’t mean to hurt ya.”

It’s so refreshingly sincere, so different from the few other apologies you’ve received from men during sex, their smug faces usually indicating their value for their pleasure over yours. You actually laugh.

“Totally fine,” You tell him, and you mean it.

Van heaves himself up from where he’d flopped down, half on top of you and half on the bed, and carefully pulls out, the sensation of the heavy condom sliding out of you making you cringe. You watch his long fingers tie it off before he clamors off of the hotel bed on shaky legs, depositing it in the garbage by the coffee maker before nipping off to the bathroom.

“Ugh,” You sigh, starfishing out your limbs on the empty bed.

“Do you care if I don’t go back to my room right this second?” You ask Van as soon as he emerges from the bathroom.

“Whatever you wanna do,” Van shrugs. As he approaches his side of the bed he starts to tug the duvet down. “At least get under the sheets with me.”

You shimmy your way under the sheets, your body melting with the heavenly feeling.

“Mind if I shut the lamp off? It’s starting to give me a headache shining in my eyes.” He asks.

You dismiss his concerns with a wave of your hand. “Go ahead.”

With a click the room is shrouded in darkness, the only exception being the blue glow of Van’s phone.

You yawn. “What time is it?”

“Five.”

“Are you not tired?” You ask him around another yawn. “Even after your show and everything?”

His smile looks tired. “My body’s on a different time.”

“Oh.” You curl up under the covers. “I’ll go in a second, I promise. I’m just fucking exhausted. Unlike you.”

Van snorts in amusement, but you miss his facial expression, your heavy eyelids falling shut.

You wake up to the echo of running water and the glow of the lamp painting your eyelids red.

You squirm, tugging the blanket around your head so you can peacefully return to sleep, but as you start to doze off the water abruptly stops, and you can hear the clatter of Van getting out of the shower.

Soon he comes out of the bathroom, singing softly under his breath as you hear the rip of different zippers through the air.

You kick your legs out, shuffling around sleepily. “What time is it?”

“Seven thirty. Sorry if I woke you. I was trying to let you get a couple hours of sleep in.”

“Did you sleep at all?” You ask him, concerned, as you peer over where he’s bent in front of a suitcase, hair dripping wet and a white hotel towel wrapped around his waist.

“I slept for a good hour,” He shrugs, before he’s gotten what he needs and heads back into the bathroom. “Probably steal a couple more on the bus.”

“Where are you headed next?” You can’t help but ask, raising your voice so he can hear you from the other room.

“Got no idea, to be honest,” Van tells you. He stands in the bathroom doorway, in the process of running a brush through his hair. “That’s a good question for Steve, actually.”

“Our tour manager,” He’s quick to tack on after he notices your blank stare. “He keeps track of our schedule.”

“Oh.” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“I guess I should get going,” You say awkwardly after a moment of silence. “I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, sorry. I haven’t stayed up that late in forever.”

Van seems to think that’s funny, giving a quick laugh as he goes for something else in his bag.

“God, my contacts are so dry,” You complain, rubbing at your eyelids in hopes of clearing the foggy film clinging to your vision. It doesn’t work, and you flop back down onto the hotel bed, sighing as you try to gather the willpower to get up and get your things.

“What shirt size do you wear?” Van asks.

You tell him, and after a moment feel a soft thud of something landing on the bed. You sit up to see a rumpled lump of fabric.

“One of our shirts,” Van explains.

You grab the gift, holding it up to examine it. “Um… What is it?”

Van lets out a belly laugh at that. “It’s our next album cover.”

“Oh, alright. Thanks,” You tell him, sliding it on immediately. It feels weird to still be naked, and you’re grateful you don’t have to get into the tight top you were wearing last night.

You go through the process of retrieving all your scattered clothes from the night before, made less awkward by the fact Van is preoccupied with getting himself ready. You cram your bra and top into your purse before shimmying back into your skintight jeans and getting your shoes on.

You do a quick once-over, making sure you’ve grabbed everything as Van pulls a fresh button up over his shoulders.

“You, uh,” He starts hesitantly. When you look over, he wipes underneath one of his eyes with the tip of his finger. “You look like you’ve got a black eye.”

You realize in that moment you’d rubbed at your contacts while you were still wearing makeup. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, heading into the bathroom and trying to clean up the mess. “Thanks for letting me know. Mary probably would’ve been worried.”

“Wouldn’t want Theo catching me in the lobby,” Van jokes, and you two laugh for longer than what was probably warranted.

“I was wonderin’, before you go, if I could get your number. For those tickets the next time we’re playing in L.A..”

“Oh, definitely,” You say, extra enthusiastic to assure him of your interest.

There’s a knock at the door, and you hear Van answer it, talking to someone for a moment.

“Got interrupted for a second,” Van tells you, and when you come into the room you see he’s loading his luggage onto a bellman cart. “But perfect. Lemme grab my phone.”

He retrieves his phone off of the bed, typing into it for a moment before he offers you a screen to enter your contact information.

“And y’know, the next time I’m staying in L.A. I’d love to have dinner.”

He says it so casually, no trace of nerves even as the question hangs in silence.

“Me too,” You offer him a smile as you hand his phone back, a satisfied look spreading over his face. “I’d love that.”

“It’s settled, then,” Van punctuates the deal with a nod, walking you to the room’s door and undoing the deadbolt for you.

“Alright. Well, see ya?” You offer as a goodbye, internally cringing.

“See ya,” Van echoes, swinging open the heavy wooden door for you. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

With that you step out into the hallway, Van shutting the door softly behind you. You hadn’t realized how awake the outside world was while you were safely cocooned in Van’s quiet room; There are a few doors open, the smell of hotel room service wafting around. There’s a luggage cart supporting a mismatched stack of suitcases that’s haphazardly rolled so it’s blocking a doorway, and you startle when the door behind the cart swings open.

There’s a deer-caught-in-headlights moment between you and the man in the room, before he examines the obstacle.

“Jesus Christ, Bond,” The man groans, struggling to roll the cart out of his way. “It’s too early for this!”

You hear a deep chuckle come from one of the open doorways, before a man in a newscap sticks his head out into the hall. “C’mon, Blakes, food’s here! I got you your ice cold oatmeal and raw eggs in a cup, just as requested.”

The man in the hat notices you standing here, and you watch the way his eyes latch onto the t-shirt Van’s given you. But he’s gone just as soon as he appeared, and you head for the elevators despite the nagging feeling you should’ve helped the guy that was barricaded.

Once you’re on the elevator, you realize with a start that you’d just unknowingly met two of Van’s bandmates.

As quiet as you try to be, of course Mary wakes up as soon as you slip into your shared room.

“How did it go?” She stage whispers, and you notice Theo’s still asleep.

“It was…” You take a deep breath. You knew these questions were coming, and had tried to properly prepare for them, but you still couldn’t comprehend last night.

“Incredible,” You eventually settle on.

Mary’s face lights up at that. “What’d you guys do?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your smile.

“Did you fuck him?” She asks. “Please tell me you fucked him.”

As hard as you try to conceal it, your smile widens.

Mary gasps. “You did, didn’t you?”

When you nod, Mary leaps off of her and Theo’s bed, sitting cross legged in her sleep shirt on yours.

“Tell me everything!” She begs.

“Hold on,” You shush her. “Let me get out of these damn jeans. And take my contacts out.”

“I can’t believe it,” Mary muses to herself as you peel the denim back off of your skin. “I can’t believe you’ve finally had your first one night stand.”

“Me either,” You admit, screwing the lid on your contact case closed.

“How was he?”

“Amazing. So nice,” You gush, sitting down on the bed with her. “It’s like, no matter how awkward I was, he just thought it was funny! It was the weirdest thing ever!”

You recount most of last night’s details back to Mary, making sure to include the part where you almost fell over, awkwardly called out the fact he was uncircumcised, and almost left his room with racoon eyes before meeting two of his bandmates in the strangest circumstance. You talk until your throat is dry and you’re exhausted, climbing under the covers to resume the peaceful sleep you’d been in the process of getting in Van’s bed.

The next day you get a text from a phone number you don’t recognize while you’re out shopping.

Happy birthday. Van x

Thank you, you send back, but there’s no reply.

Read Chapter 2 here

#van mccann #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #van fic #van mccann fic #catb fic #van #mccann #summer's a knife

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