#van blurb

This was one of those times. She couldn’t stop replaying the way his fingers felt inside of her in her mind. She remembered almost all of the details of those nights, even the way his face looked while he watched her from start to finish, though the ending was a bit fuzzy, the only thing her mind remembered was how intense the orgasm was, not the way his face looked. She went back to the night he first fingered her -- his hands so wonderful against her skin, peeling off clothing from her bottom half until there was nothing left. “Fuck,” she let out a low moan, “Keep going, Van.”

She didn’t know he was home. She didn’t even hear him come in the door, or even lean up against the doorframe of the bathroom. But nonetheless, he didn’t make a sound to let her know that he was here. He was too engrossed in how beautiful she looked, her eyes screwed shut, her body distorted under the water. She wasn’t anywhere near orgasm, her mouth wasn’t opened forming an “o” shape at all yet.

Van inched near the tub, leaning his arms on the edge of it. He rested his head on his arms, watching her up close. He wanted to reach out and touch her, help her, but he didn’t want to ruin her fun. Instead, he just kept watching her, blood rushing to his dick as she kept moaning his name, over and over. “Fuck, Van…”

God, how he loved to hear her moan. He didn’t realized he let out one himself until Y/N gasped, going to cover her body but realizing there was absolutely not point in doing so. “You gonna sit there and watch, or are you gonna touch me yourself?”