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angelofthenight · 10 months

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“Are We About to Kiss?” Pt.3

(Vance Hopper x gn!Reader)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Vance can barely function on your date

Warnings: Tsundere!Vance, Swearing, Flustering, Mutual Flirting, Kissing, This is just super fluffy okay

Word Count: 4.2k

( I just noticed Vance is literally ‘When He Sees Me’ and YN is ‘Never Ever Getting Rid of Me’ )

Requested by: @idk-callmewhatever @luveslasher @b3taaasquad @lanadelraystan @scarlettisconfused @gleamingpinksnake @aaronackerman @viidemoo @nepttune0 @vanceem @theteabush @kinnievan @onlyheretoreadfanficsstuff @brattzslattz

Vance paced his room like a madman in a padded cell, his closet now empty as his small amount of clothes were sprawled all across his floor. He told himself to stop acting like a chick and just pick something to wear but he couldn’t help but overthink every little option.

Of course he wanted to look good for your date but not too good that it made him look like actually cared, despite it already being obvious to you that he does in fact care. But he also didn’t want to look like a slob! He kicked through his pile of jeans that all looked the same… but they were slightly different shades and some were more rugged than the others!

His mom ironed a few pairs of his jeans which made his decisions harder. Would it be obvious to you that they were ironed? Would you think he ironed his jeans just for this stupid little date? He could perfectly picture your smug grin as you would ask him, “did you iron your jeans just for the movies?” He would probably strangle you out of embarrassment.

He looked over to the pile of his shirts. Should he wear a t-shirt or a muscle shirt to display his biceps to you? He wore muscle shirts practically every day though, so would the change to a t-shirt be obvious to you?! He hated t-shirts, he felt like a priss in them… but they did look nicer… what color would he even wear?! Should he be sneaky and wear your favorite color? Or would you catch on to that? Would it make him a creep that he even knows your favorite color?

Vance growled to himself and ran a hand through his curls. ‘It’s just the movies, we’re gonna be sitting in a dark room anyway.’ He lectured to himself about his paranoid, mad worries. His muscles physically tensed and his blue eyes widened in shape. It’d be just you and him, alone, sitting right next to each other, in the dark. The realization made his mind do flips, face reddening in heat. His hands clapped over his face to rub the heat out, grumbling swear words under his breath.

Through his fingers he noticed the arms of the clock on his wall inch closer and closer to the time you were supposed to meet up at the movies. Which led to a new stress: should he be early, on time, or fashionably late? Did he want to get there before or after you? Would he look desperate if he was early? Would he look like a time freak if he was exactly on time? Would it be cool if he came late so it looked like he didn’t care that much or would you think lowly of him?

God, he absolutely despised you for making him fall apart like this, for making him feel so weak, for making his insides feel like slush, for making his pulse absolutely freak out, for making the veins in his face feel like lava. He cursed this all in your name as he sat on the bench outside the theater a few minutes after the designated time. His arms tightly crossed over his chest to hide his sweat stains from the nerves, his legs manspreading in his ironed jeans as one of his legs vaguely bounced.

He kept checking the time every other second, his jitters getting worse and he nearly considered running out on cold feet. You were late. It was ten minutes past the meeting time and the credits were going to start very soon. Was this all in a jest? Was all your constant flirting and advances just one big joke about him? He was such an idiot to fall for it all, to actually believe that the specimen of his dreams truly liked him in that way; that you even thought of him in that way at all. That you-

“Hey, Vance!” You shouted as you sped walked over to where he was sitting, visibly out of breath. Once you reached him and smiled bright down at him, Vance blinked as his doubt and self-insecurity released him. You came. You were serious about the date. His eyebrows snapped together all of a sudden, “Did you fall in your toilet or something? The fuck took you so long?”

You chuckled bashfully, lacing your fingers together. “Sorry, I couldn’t decide what to wear.” You admitted with an embarrassed flush threatening to crawl up your neck.

Vance bit the inside of his cheek and faked a scoff and forced an eye roll. “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. It’s just the movies, you’re not getting your picture taken for the paper.” He hissed his self-projection, mentally noting that he still needs to shove the scattered piles of clothes on his floor back into his closet.

“It took forever to get you on this date, might as well make it worth your while.” You remarked with a flirtatious grin sharpening your lips and mischievous eyes that made you look like you were going to eat him alive, which was exactly what he feared; because he knows that you could. You verbally ushered him to his feet as you started toward the ticket stand. Vance scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over them, to follow after you like a clingy cat.

He tightly crossed his arms as he stood beside you while you paid for the tickets at the stand. You thanked the unenthusiastic worker before leading Vance through the doors, the thunder rumbling behind the approaching gray clouds in the sky making Vance slightly gulp as he walked towards his doom.

The two of you had no trouble getting concessions and finding your seats, and you just couldn’t fight off the wide, giddy smile plastered across your face and excitement bubbling in your stomach. Not for the movie, though, of course. In fact, although you’d never speak it aloud, you couldn’t care less for this Mad Max movie. What you were truly looking forward to was getting to sit right next to Vance in this dark room and tease and torment him to watch him unravel over and over again into a blushing mess.

Hm, maybe you were evil.

Vance glanced over to your fixated gaze and his brows scrunched together while he avoided your eyes. “Stop looking at me like that. We’re in public, creep.” Your eyebrows copied his as you quickly glanced around the theater consisting of only three small groups: a small family in the back, a mother and her two sons a few rows to your right, and two middle aged men more near the front row. You didn’t even think the other groups registered your existence. You amusedly rolled your eyes at Vance’s embarrassment.

The theater screen was still blank so the two of you were stuck sitting in silence. Well, it would be silent if Vance wasn’t crunching up popcorn in his open mouth. You slowly turned your head to him with a glare sharpening your eyes. You parted your lips, trying not to make a comment on how he’s already diving into the popcorn before the credits even started and how he should chew with his mouth closed.

In the state of disgust you even caught yourself wondering, this was the guy you were attracted to? You were even about to question what you exactly saw in him but your eyes then landed on how his prettily structured nose wiggled just the slightest as he ate. Your pupils traveled up the bridge of his nose to his eyes. Did his eyes invent a new shade of blue? Because you swore you've never seen that shade before, you’d remember such a pretty shade. But maybe the shade was only pretty because it was in his iris’.

You looked higher till you got to the roots of his hair and traveled down his blond curls. God, his blue eyes and blond hair combination really did make you wonder why you wouldn’t be attracted to him. He physically kind of reminded you of a male version of Cinderella. He really was a pretty guy, probably would be even prettier if he didn’t have the attitude of a hissing wild cat refusing to be pet.

You realized you had been studying his face like it was the first time you were ever seeing it, and the crazy thing was… staring at him made you a little flustered. So flustered you had to force yourself to look away as you felt heat swarm within the apples of your cheeks and your stomach get a little queasy, a feeling you hated to call butterflies.

The second you looked away is when Vance slowly glanced over to you. Both of you not knowing the other was admiring their faces. He nearly sighed at the sight of your pink tinted cheeks, it was as if they were actually glowing. Was that even possible? His enchanted eyes got distracted when you fleetingly bit your bottom lip, his attention now on your mouth. Your teeth had noticeably left your pink lip a shade darker.

Vance pursed his own lips together as he stared at your mouth, trying his hardest to not imagine how your lips would feel against his own… or even taste. Nope, that thought was too overwhelming as he thrashed his gaze off your pretty lips and they landed on your hair. Your… hair.

“You got a haircut.” He subconsciously stated aloud. You hummed as your confused response, looking over to your date. You remembered the haircut you got the same day Vance asked you out. You touched your ends a little. “Oh, I mean, barely. It was just a trim.” You let go of your hair. “Can’t believe you noticed.”

Vance’s eyes widened and he whipped his head away from you. “Don’t get your fuckin’ diaper in a twist over it.” He barked before shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. You smiled at his reaction. “No, I meant thanks for noticing.” You said, a soft fondness resting in your eyes.

Vance grumbled out a tight scoff through his scowling frown. “Whatever…” he paused and your eyebrows slightly raised in anticipation. “Clown cunt.” He finally added which made your smile widen as you sat back in your seat. “There it is.”

The opening credits finally started playing as you verbally stated your opinion on each short movie trailer and whether or not you were going to see it. Vance told you to shut up each time followed by a degrading name that sometimes made your jaw physically drop. You’d rather change your name to ‘Clown Cunt’ than be called a “maggot eating carcass” again.

You swore sometimes that he had a little notebook where he would take hours to think of and write the most creative, insulting names to call you. Yet you’d rather focus on the image of him even owning a little notebook made just for you. Little did you know that Vance would laugh at all the things you said at home, in privacy where he didn’t have to suck in his smile.

When the movie started you both went peacefully silent, focusing on the movie and the introduction of all the characters. You and Vance were all settled in and comfortable when it got to a part where a long conversation between two of the characters began to grow boring to him and when he glimpsed over to you he noticed you were getting bored too. Vance’s heart rate started to pick up over an idea that popped into his head. Would you make a big deal out of it? Would you obnoxiously point it out with that shit eating grin of yours? He tested the waters of your awareness by doing a high elbow stretch. You didn’t seem to care enough to glance at him.

What would happen if he just…

He quietly faked a yawn and pulled out another arm stretch above his head. He glanced over to you to make sure you were still distracted before he slowly brought his arms back down, one arm on the head of the empty seat next to him and the other on the back of your chair. He did it! He actually did it!

You felt Vance’s flexed arm rest on the head of your chair and you were pleasantly very surprised he made such a slick move like that. Your lips widened to a soft smirk as you glanced down at his legs that were spread far apart, one of them invading your personal space. You had a flirty idea for a move a while ago during one of the car chase scenes but you didn’t want to ruin his clear enjoyment of the high tension action scene or distract him from it. Plus you were scared he would literally grab your leg and snap it in half if you disturbed the scene.

But if Vance was going to make such a bold move, then you were too. So you crossed your legs and used your top calf to gently nudge and rub against Vance’s knee, just a harmless little tease.

Vance did not find it harmless.

His shoulders visibly tensed upwards and he sucked in an audible breath. He reacted like someone shot him. Even in the dark room you saw how badly his face flushed red like a sunburn. He snapped his seemingly furious stare at you and thrashed his leg away from you, as well as retreating his arm. “Keep it in your pants, you twat” he grumbled. You wheezed out a chuckle at his reception as scrambled into the empty seat next to him, leaving an open chair between the two of you.

You moved into that chair to be next to him again but as soon as your bottom was seated Vance moved down another seat… as did you. This went on throughout the whole line of seats until Vance reached the very last chair and he would have to stand up and move up or down to a different row. He groaned in defeat as you plopped down beside him, humored grin intact. “I promise I don’t have cooties, Vance.”

“You sure? It’d explain your face.” He replied snarkily as he tightly crossed his arms once again. You tilted your head so you could get a better view of his face as you put on a mischievous smile. “Are you saying I’m ugly, Vance? Is that why you can barely look at me? ‘Cause I’m just sooooo horrid to even look at?” You teased.

Vance looked right at you, glare and furrowed brows and all. “No but it’s why I wouldn’t share a drink with you.” You dramatically gaped at him and made a theatrical offended face. “You’re so mean to me, Vancy Poo~” You pouted with another tease.

Vance’s eyes embiggened and his upper lip formed a snarl, his blushing nose and ears completely ruining the threatening facade. He jabbed your shoulder with a mild punch to make you sit back into your seat. “Don’t fucking call me that unless you want me to shove your head down the toilet. And I’m not that fucking mean. I’m just honest.” He shoved his fist back under his bicep like a spoiled child. “Now shut up so we can get this movie date over with and I can go home.”

You playfully but annoyedly rolled your eyes as you rubbed your stinging shoulder, noting that he punched less harder than he usually would. “It’s not even close to midnight yet, Cinderella.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear. Vance’s hand flew out again to smack the same shoulder with hardened knuckles, making you gasp in a wince again. “Don’t call me a princess either, you fuck.”

“Why not?” You said through your wince, still rubbing your poor abused shoulder. You looked over to Vance and teasingly smirked with coquettish eyes as you leaned against the armchair closest to him. “Oh because that would make me Prince Charming? I’d say the roles suit us perfectly.” Vance scoffed and looked back at you with a raised cynical brow. “You calling yourself ‘charming’?” He teased back. You smiled foxily and shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”

“You also saying I’m gonna turn into a shit-scrubbing peasant at midnight?” He questioned with the smallest smile creeping up onto his lips at your banter. You shrugged again, “If the shoe fits.” Vance hid his snigger in his throat. “And you call me mean?”

“Hey, calling you a princess is the nicest thing I’ve ever said about anyone.” You defended. “Cinderella only got to be a princess after she married Prince Cuntwad.” Vance corrected with a snarky matter-of-fact tone.

You barely even registered how close both of your faces were together, matching teasing smirks and impish foggy eyes, creating your very own atmosphere. “Hey Vance?” You spoke. “What.” You shifted in your seat to lean more into the armchair, keeping your eyes locked. “Are we about to kiss right now?”

Vance didn’t redden or glare or resort to violence, he just held his smirk and eye contact. “Shut up.” He mumbled, your lips merely inches apart. It was like there was a telepathic mutual agreement as you both leaned closer at the same time, your lips finding each other and clicking together perfectly like two puzzle pieces. You barely even got to feel the heat off his lips or taste the hint of soda past them before Vance abruptly peeled his lips off yours, your head slightly falling forward when he did so.

Your eyes shot open with pure, raw confusion after the literal two second perfect kiss in that perfect moment and caught the sight of Vance running down the stairs of the theater. You practically threw yourself out of your seat and ran down the steps after the blond-haired boy wearing a baby blue muscle shirt and navy blue jeans, him occasionally glimpsing over his shoulder like he was trying to escape you.

You swore you’ve seen this in a movie once.

Vance rushed out the doors into the empty theater lobby with you hot on his trail and calling out his name. “Vance! Vance, wait!” You yelled and he finally stopped, allowing you to catch up to him but leaving about a meter of space between you. You took a few seconds to catch your breath when Vance turned to your flabbergasted expression. “What happened?” You asked in complete dumbfounded bewilderment with your arms slightly out.

Vance’s jawline tightened alongside his fists. He let out some sort of vicious growl as he thrashed his fists down in the air. He pointed an accusing finger at you, his nose scrunched and nostrils flared as he bared his teeth. “You, you bitch! I can’t fucking do this anymore! It’s just, urgh! It’s just getting way too fucking much!” He spat out like a bellicose brute.

You frowned. You were beginning to assume your advances had turned annoying and harassing to him. “Vance…” you started sadly while rubbing your wrist in shame, “if you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word and I’ll leave you alone from here on out. And I’m sorry for everything I did-” Vance cut you off loudly. “What? No! Don’t turn yourself into the fucking victim, you dickhole!”

You blinked at him, now even more confused. “Well… then what’s wrong? I thought everything was going really well back there?” You asked softly with your cute little frown making Vance even more heated. “I know! That’s the fucking point, you stupid little clown cunt!” He snapped viciously, he had never sounded more audibly rogue with you.

He began pacing a short distance in front of you while he was going berserk. “God I hate you so much! I hate how you make me feel! You make me feel like a weak little sap! I feel like I can barely stand around you!” He looked over to you then hastily looked away with a growl. “I can’t even, fuck, I can’t even keep eye contact with you! Especially with how you look at me!”

He continued to complain and pace. “I hate that you make me feel pathetic and stupid! I feel like I have no dignity when I’m even near you!” He finally halted his movements. “I-I like you, alright?!”

Your amusement formed a smile. “Vance, I know.” You said, wondering if he honestly thought you still didn’t know even though that was the sole reason why you felt confident enough in pursuing him in the first place. “I know!” Vance snapped again. “And I hate that you know! I can’t fucking hide behind a secret anymore, goddamnit! And with what you make me feel, I can’t even try to be in denial! Do you even know how long it took me to decide what to wear to this stupid fucking date! Did you even notice I’m wearing ironed fucking jeans for you?!”

Vance growled out again with a homicidal-like scowl in his face and raised his curled fingers like he was getting ready to strangle you. “I hate you so fucking much! Stop giving me those eyes! You always know exactly what you’re doing, you fucking shithole bitch!”

You laughed aloud over how he was acting before slamming a hand over your mouth to cut it short. He was so dramatic. “Vance, that’s just how crushes feel. Everyone gets those weak feelings, even me. It’s completely normal and common.” You explained with a fond smile nestled in your lips. “No, it’s bad with me! You don’t get it!” Vance argued.

You laughed again at him, choosing to not be cruel and tease him about how he basically admitted that he has it bad for you. “Meow.” You chuckled out, pretending your hand was a cat clawed paw. He truly was a pussycat. “You’re such a dramatic baby.” You said as you took the steps needed to get closer to him as he huffed down at you. “Don’t forget that technically you made the first move when you went out of your entire way to find me and give me the drink I dropped when you tried to kill me.”

Vance slightly rolled his eyes and pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He murmured. Your smile enlarged with genuine infatuation. “So just… let your guard down for me. Face your fear.” You stepped closer so that you were toe to toe.

“I’m not scared of you.” Vance defended with an annoyed glare, that redness you always work towards blooming into his cheeks. “And I’ll fucking prove it.” He added before aggressively grabbing your head and dipping his lips down into yours. And just like Cinderella reuniting with her glass slipper, you and Vance’s lips were a perfect fit. You hummed happily into the kiss, one hand gently resting on one of his wrists and your other hand gently resting on his toned bicep. Your hand softly squeezed his bicep when Vance’s lips parted to overlap with yours from a different angle.

Getting caught up in the moment, your hand on his wrist moved to his other bicep while your other hand glided upwards. Your hand slowly moved up his neck to nestle your fingers into his curls by the roots. Vance hummed and pulled away from the kiss, snatching your wrist that was nearly buried in his hair.

“Don’t do that!” He barked with rosy hued cheeks that basically told you that did in fact like it. Vance didn’t bother to continue to argue or deny his weak feelings as he sloppily pushed your hand back in his hair to pounce his lips back into yours again, except this time with one hand around your waist and the other at the back of your head.

The sweet tasting kiss lasted only a couple more seconds before Vance parted again, still leaving mere centimeters between your mouths. You almost wanted to snap at him to stop talking.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this.” Vance grumbled with a fiery glare. You rolled your eyes. “I can try… Pussycat.”

“Clown Cunt.”

“Princess.”

“Shut up.”

You both pulled the other closer to reunite your lips to melt into each other, a moment you’ve both been waiting oh so long for. And Vance thanked the world for your clumsiness as it was the thing that finally brought you back into his life when you messed up his pinball score.

He just hoped he would get used to these weakening feelings.

#vance hopper x reader #vance hopper #brady hepner #the black phone #the black phone x reader #reader insert #Vance hopper imagine #the black phone imagine

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