.The black phone. Oneshots

Tutor - V. Hopper

A/n- short story, just reader flirting with Vance in a way..

Being assigned to younger students after school for tutoring was nothing new, seeing as how your grades were almost (basically) the highest in the entire school, as well as the best "leadership" skills.

You huffed, slinging your backpack over your shoulder before pushing open the library doors. You looked around for a kid, yet there were no middle schoolers in sight. You laid eyes on a blonde, lean kinda muscular guy, his hair to his shoulders. "Yo dipshit lookin' around! Are you Y/N?" He yelled, only to get shushed by a librarian immediately. This is gonna be the longest two hours ever.

"So your the..middle schooler" you asked sarcastically, annunciating the 'middle schooler'. He scoffed before grinning and licking his lips; "that'd be me." He was now visibly pissed, his tone even dropping an octave or two. "Aren't you a little old for the eight grade, hopper?" You smirked, holding eye contact with him as you sat down across from him. "Shut your fucking mouth, arent you here to tutor me nerd?" He began to lean forward, closing the distance between you both. "We're the same age! And your still in eight?!" You yelled, now moving to get in his face. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tounge before grinning.

Before either of you knew it, you were spewing insults back and forth, inching closer..and closer.. until your noses were almost bumping. To be honest, it was just fun poking at him, seeing how far you could go before he tried to physically fight you.

"Your breathe smells nice" you retorted, looking down at his lips then back up into his eyes before licking your own. He immediately jumped back into his seat,  heat creeping up his cheeks. "Wh- what the fuck man!" He yelled, looking away then quickly back to you after regaining his composure .  "What? Can't take a little compliment?" You smirked, looking down at him before taking your seat. He rolled his eyes before pulling out his notebook.

"Alright, let's actually study now. What's your grade for math?" You asked, scanning your own binder for the math tab. "69. Stupid bitch won't round it up to a 70, I even asked for extra credit work." He slammed his worksheet onto the table, looking up at you. You looked up from your paper, into his eyes then down to his worksheet, staring at the big red f on the corner of the paper.

"This is gonna be a longg afternoon" you sighed

word count: 420