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Jun 26, 2025

be careful what you wish for.

Kyley-B x Reader - trinitrotoluene - chapter 2

Also available on ao3! 𓆩♡𓆪 Link to Chapter 1

Summary: An innocent librarian's whole views on the world - as well as her guts - are rearranged when she takes into the equation South Park's resident New Jersey asshole. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content (everyone involved is above the age of consent), Fem!Reader, Smut, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cunnilingus, Creampie, Arguing, Fighting, Mentions of Alcohol

A/N: the sequel expected by both everyone and no one.

this took me a while to get to due to me really wanting to capture the vibes of the first chapter. i needed it to end with a bang. but it's here now - big as hell and intense. like Kyley-B, i guess?

i'm not afraid of him anymore. we're one now. we're Venom.

(also uni was kicking my ass but the semester's over now so i can work on more things over winter break!)

“Kyley, I don’t know about this… I think I should go back and change.”

My muttered complaint was almost inaudible over the thundering beats of the music inside the nightclub we were standing in line for, the conversations of the fellow partygoers surrounding us and the rustle of the fabric of my own tight-fitting clothing as I once again tried to pull the hem of it further down, to as much success as I had with the previous attempts - which is to say, very little.

Truly, I didn’t know why I still had that garment. It was a memento from my freshman year of university, back when I thought the following semesters would be filled with partying and drinking that required an outfit up to the challenge, leading me to spending more than I should on a strapless tube dress that left very little to the imagination when it came to my curves and kept on trying to show off even more with the way it rode up my thighs with every movement. Alas, the piece itself did not come accompanied by the courage to wear it; and so for the years after purchase it hung, brand-new, depressedly in the back of my closet, waiting until it could be claimed either by moths or by a cardboard box full of other clothes that I might want to donate.

Or until the man standing in line in front of me found out about it during a weekend at my house and decided it needed to be seen under any conditions, thus inviting me to a new nightclub that had just opened up in Main Street, an environment perfect for a fit of that nature. Minus the fact that I’d obviously… blossomed since my higher education years, and the lack of fabric that was already questionable at the time was nowadays borderline dangerous, which I’d pointed out before we’d even left the house.

Not a sentiment my companion shared, though. “You look fantastic, doll. Don’t sweat it.” Kyley-B responded distractedly while craning his neck to see the beginning of the line better, through the mass of people waiting to enter.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not even looking at me!”

“Because you’ve asked me this question four times in the last five minutes so far!” He reached out behind him for my hand to pull me forward as soon as the bouncer began to open the double doors to let in another group of people, before anyone in front of us had dared see that happen, and despite the rough reply, I held his hand and walked the few steps with him. “And I’ve told you every time that you’re gorgeous. What, ya think I’m a liar?”

His tone gave out that it was not a question he wanted answered. So I didn’t.

In reality, no matter how much I fussed about the hangout and how different the whole situation was for me, deep down I was grateful for the invitation and his insistence. For the past few months since the Jersey playboy came barreling down into my life in the loudest, most charged way, this had been the usual for us. Our very first interaction had turned my world inside out - with his cock nearly doing the same to my body - and since then he’d attached himself to me like a tattoo, if tattoos dragged you around to every single thing they wanted to do with little room for questioning. The activities he figured would be most enjoyable in my company tended to be things fully out of my comfort zone, lacking prior warning; a set of circumstances utterly terrifying in any other context, but with him, I came to find them almost… delightful. They opened my eyes to experiences I’d never have had without his hand, which guided me with a gentleness rarely shown anywhere else: he reassured me at every turn while simultaneously keeping me on the figurative edge of my seat, to a point where I was outright expectant of our next meetings, just to find out what else I could learn from him.

And the opposite had been true as well; while he brought excitement and new memories to my life, he was also not averse to stopping and smelling the roses, and this is where I really stood out. When it was my turn to choose something to do and we’d settle for something more peaceful and inside of my little bubble, his very stance would change, turning rather relaxed and centering his focus. Opinions that would normally be handed out abrasively became carefully thought-out and understandable, the intelligence I knew he had inside finally able to shine through. He’d curse less, speak in a lower volume, his mannerisms were more mindful - and what was best, it came naturally, like he just had that inside all along waiting for an opportunity. Although I tried to stay humble about it, I tended to internally brag at the concept that I’d be the one with access to that side of him.

There was only one thing missing in my very own real life retelling of ‘Lady and the Tramp’: our collars. A label.

Months by now we’d spent together, during which we’d done all sorts of activities: I’d been to his house and he’d been to mine, we had visited multiple different places and been seen in public together countless times both at night and during the day, he’d had me naked and bent in various different positions with surprising success, I’d dragged him out of trouble a lot so far, even paid his bail and drove him home once after a bar fight got particularly heated. Our closeness was impossible to deny.

But, like everything else about Kyley-B, it seemed volatile; even after all that, with the praise and the quality time and the intimacy, I was still clueless about what we were, what my place in his life was if I had any. The warmth I felt in my chest whenever he was close, embers of his own fiery personality that he’d shared for me to keep safe, told me constantly I was special - but how many of these did he have to give? Was he such a blazing flame that just one person would never be able to soothe?

Part of me figured it was more efficient to just take what I could get without pondering the specifics too much, and bask in the satisfaction of knowing at least I was a constant in his life, someone he was always searching for and keeping close. It was more than what could be said of the women that usually surround guys like him. But another part, that which saw those one-on-one moments as heartfelt developments of our connection, screamed in desperation to understand what was really going on; and it wouldn’t accept casualness as an answer, wanting to just grab at that goddamned fake gold chain he always wore and yank until he’d claim me as his one and only.

Fear held me back, though. Not of him: Of breaking the stalemate only to find my chances weren’t as high as I thought. If I placed such a heavy question - to which the agreeable answer would come with a fresh set of responsibilities - on the table and received a negative response, it would be devastating. It’d mean no part of what we lived together was as meaningful to Kyley as it had been to me, or as enjoyable, repurposing all those moments as just hangouts without any further sentiment behind them. It would wreck my entire perception of the past months into a fine dust of ‘what might have been’. I’d have to start over from scratch, losing a companion who I’d cared so much for and who had shown me so much I hadn’t seen of the world around me, while at the same time knowing that for him I wasn’t more than another woman who gave him the time of day.

It was with all this in mind that I never asked. I just held his hand and let him carry me, both the few steps as the line diminished and the rest of our time together, hoping that our fields of view were synchronized even through the veil of my meekness and the shades of his reputation.

Faster than expected considering the amount of people in front of us, Kyley and I were at the beginning of the line, and soon enough the flooring under my heels changed from concrete pavers to glossy vinyl while colorful beams of light shone different hues onto my dress, shifting its black color into darker purples or reds or greens. The music, which the nightclub’s walls had done a decent job of protecting my ears from, was now positively booming, some remix of famous recession pop songs and old school hip-hop beats - I’d caught many hints of different conversations in line about how the specific DJ who was playing that night was fantastic and really knew how to get a party going, and maybe it was just a lack of knowledge on the subject, but I didn’t perceive the work as all that extraordinary. The space inside was crammed and the body heat of many different people enveloped me rather uncomfortably, making my short dress feel like appropriate attire if exclusively considering the temperature.

Keeping a tight hold on my hand and not speaking - he wouldn’t be heard anyway - Kyley-B brought me away from the doors and further towards the center, creating a corridor for me to walk through safely at the expense of numerous partygoers that complained when hit by his shoulders or arms when he passed by them. I kept muttering some apologies, but they went unnoticed as we continued weaving through the crowd, stopping only when we reached a spot close to the wall, near the bar.

“Party’s pumpin’ tonight,” Kyley said with excitement, leaning towards me to put his mouth as close to my ear as possible - even then, it took some effort from me to make out the actual words. “The guys really weren’t kiddin’. This place’s amazing!”

It would probably take me several more minutes for the word amazing to become one of the possible descriptors for this event in my mind, but I didn’t want to wreck his joy. “I guess it is,” I responded, giving him a smile and hoping it didn’t look as nervous as it felt in my face.

But Kyley knew me, better than any other man could. Not that it was any hard to see in my demeanor how out of my element I was: The way my arms were kept close to my body, making myself smaller to fit in the nonexistent space, the flickers of my eyes here and there as I took in the excessive visual stimuli. “You know what you need? A drink!” He didn’t miss a beat with the offer, which came as high-energy as his previous sentence. “I’ll get one for ya. Don’t go nowhere.”

Just like that, he was turning away from me and trying to make his way closer to the actual bar, one arm lifted to present the wristband placed on him at the entrance for easier ordering. With me being left standing close by, he remained able to see me very clearly, and I noticed him taking full advantage of that by constantly looking over his shoulder to check if I was in place. As for me, well, that red hair would grab my sight anywhere, even with the thick gel on it reflecting the multi-colored lighting.

The music, loud as it was, did a decent job of keeping my insecure thoughts at bay… by substituting it with repetitive beats, but still. I kept my eyes on Kyley from the second he stepped away, begging with them for him to come back quick, but also expressing my gratitude that he was the one going through all this trouble - since I didn’t think I would’ve survived pushing through the wall of people asking for drinks at the bar, which he did with the ease that comes with being someone you don’t wanna mess with. And when he stepped away not long after, one colorful cup with the nightclub’s logo in each hand, I breathed an infinitesimal sigh of relief. I might’ve been tense and uncomfortable without his presence, but I knew he had my best interests in mind - he wouldn’t put me through something he wasn’t sure I could handle, and who knows? Maybe some alcohol in my system was exactly what I needed to let myself loose and enjoy another wonderful night out with him.

Or at least it would’ve been, until she arrived.

I didn’t detect her coming in his direction until she was basically glued arm to arm with him. The first thing that came through my mind was that she reminded me of a walking disco ball; her sequin crop top reflected lights in every which direction, hundreds of her own little shining spots that I had to force myself to look away from considering they spread over just enough area to cover her breasts, and even that coverage was questionable. Between that and the low-rise denim shorts she wore, as much of her skin as legally possible was showing, a slight glisten of sweat on her belly and chest that spoke of how she’d already been heavily partying for a while. Her fit made me look modest, but she displayed none of the discomfort I did, excitedly gesturing at the Jersey playboy to catch his attention - successfully - while making small jumps that made her boobs bounce and the bracelets in her arms shake.

The nightclub went silent. Those light beams still moved, people still danced and their mouths moved while they continued their conversations, like the volume had been dialed down to zero. All my focus was on the pair some feet away from me, on how Kyley-B stayed put while the new girl came closer, turning in her direction and saying something with a smile on his face; his words were unknown to me, but his laugh was something I’d die before forgetting, and it reached my ears better than the music would. The woman stretched her arms wide as if to give him a hug, but he took a step aside last second - God forbid he spill his drinks, my mind concluded with disdain as something unknown dragged down my back. Thousands of knives straight to my spine, tearing through the bone as easily as they would some tapestry, with the blood they’d spill instead making its way up my throat in the shape of a stinging toxin that made me want to vomit my guts out. Yet I didn’t collapse to my knees in utter agony or let out the horrendous shriek this sensation urged me to. That would’ve been less painful.

My legs moved before I’d made the decision to, which I wouldn’t if it was up to me. But everything above my hips was locked onto itself, the remaining energy in my muscles channeling towards making that stride happen, while my brain did the work of figuring out the easiest path to my targets in that crowd. What called me to action wasn’t sense, but some sort of deeply ingrained hunch that whatever was causing me so much grief was related to those two being alone together, and that a maintenance of that condition for any extra seconds would have death as a result. Whether mine or theirs.

It didn’t take long for me to reach both of them, with the noise in the space gradually increasing the closer I got to the destination. By the time I was near their side, it was booming inside of my head again, bass-heavy as the fury it warred with. I didn’t know if my heartbeat had decided to sync up with the music… or if it was the other way around.

Proximity to the woman did nothing to diminish my unsettlement. She was a few inches taller than me, the height of my heels included, and a quick look down told me that her own gladiator sandals had the back of her feet lifted in an angle that I’d only describe as uncomfortable. Her squeaky voice managed to disrupt even more the air around us, and I figured she might be well-beloved by the street dogs in town whenever she spoke - that if the noise of her multiple accessories didn’t scare them off, clashing and clinking with her every movement, which she did a lot of to make sure eyes would be drawn to her at all times. Everything about her screeched in need to be seen, and against my own opinion on her merit to be so, she was.

Before I could announce my own presence, though, Kyley did it for me. “And then I went and- Wait, what?” He interrupted himself mid-sentence, turning to me with a confused look on his face that gradually shifted into pleasant surprise. “Whatcha doin’ here, sweet cheeks? Didn’t I tell ya to wait back there?”

Crash. Awareness suddenly returned to me all at once; where I was, what I had been doing, and the thoughts that I’d had in the span of seconds that led me there. A cocktail of shame, dread and anger stronger than anything Kyley could’ve bought me mixed itself in my stomach as I was now required to both face my own unconscious actions and control my conscious ones. The man’s arched eyebrows and the small smile that spread on his face upon seeing me should’ve filled me with joy, but instead I wanted to punch it right out. For leaving me alone, for talking to this woman, for betraying what we had - but had he? Did we have anything for him to betray? And if we had, would that have been betrayal at all? Picking a fight over something that wasn’t even palpable would dig my own grave of humiliation further, while I already wasn’t at my most comfortable in an unknown environment.

Lying outright would not be an option, as Kyley certainly would call me out, but I also couldn’t turn to him and say ‘Hey, I hate this woman, stop talking to her and any others forever’. So what came out was the softer sliver of the truth, without the blood-curdling details. “I… I didn’t want to be alone anymore,” I muttered with a small shrug, “So I came to see you.”

That’s when a scolding should come into play. The Jersey man detested when his orders were questioned, and so far I’d been obedient enough to not be on the receiving end of one of his thorough lectures, but there’s a first time for everything. However, it did not come to pass; he just tossed his head back in a fit of good-natured laughter. “Impatient little thing, you are,” Kyley teased, giving me one of the cups before throwing the now free arm over my shoulders and pulling me towards his side. “Well, stay here now. You didn’t miss much, we were just talkin’.”

Not that I knew what I would’ve done with myself if he had said anything contrary, but nevertheless it felt good to be so clearly told to stay. Especially when the order was followed by a very obvious display of discomfort on the other woman’s part, her deep pink lipstick nigh disappearing as her lips pressed into a thin line, which made the smallest movements - she was biting on them, munching on her complaints. “And who is this little thing you have with you today, Kyley, dear?” She eventually questioned, her tone high-pitched and filled with fake cuteness, ignoring me completely as if I were a child. Seen, because she had no choice, but not heard. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“Oh, this here’s my (Y/N),” Kyley responded promptly, his hand rubbing up and down my arm. The woman’s long fake lashes batted repeatedly, her teeth dragging onto her bottom lip again, but with the blood that blossomed right in front of my cornea and clouded my focus, I failed to register why. “We both had never been here before, so I said well, here’s a great opportunity to show her off a bit, you know.”

Bless the colorful lights in the space, for they hid the undoubtedly reddish hue that spread across my cheeks at the words ‘show her off’. I brought my cup close to my face in an automatic motion, seeking to distract myself God knows how, and inhaled deeply. The sharp scent of lemon and vodka invaded my nostrils, twisting around inside my head and scratching my brain, cleansing it of the gunk the thoughts of that woman had covered it with. Not the same effect it would have when it finally got to my stomach, but I forced myself to have a generous sip, needing the liquid courage and also some way of seeming less troubled by the situation than I was. So I let it burn the inside of my throat, deliberately concentrating on the alcohol - an objectively bad idea, like that whole interaction.

“I see.” The woman gave one short nod that also served as an excuse to eye me up and down, her gaze lingering both on my face - half-hidden by the cup - and on my dress, which suddenly seemed too simple for the event. “You knoooow, for this sort of thing, you really have to consider the company you bring, Kyley,” she added in a drawl, her bracelets jingling again when she gestured with her hand, manipulating in the air around us the best way to speak her mind. “It’s real grown-up stuff, darling. This place’s not for just anyone.”

My fingers tightened around the plastic cup. Real grown-up stuff. I wanted to ask just what the fuck she meant by that, but it would only make me look silly, because we both knew. She didn’t see me as good enough company, for a club like this or for Kyley. And on any other occasion, maybe as soon as earlier that same night, I might’ve been inclined to agree out of self-deprecation, question my own aptitude to be the partner he needed - this would’ve presented the woman in front of me as a more worthy option, though, and that wouldn’t do either. But the man at my side laughed again, impeding me from arguing for myself. “Well, good thing I brought (Y/N) then, because I know she’s up for it,” he asserted, shaking his head. “Don’t take her for no dummy, Kandee. She looks all cute like that, but she can handle the heat.”

Kandee. A sweet name for a sour person. The sound of my snort echoed inside my cup, but if either of them noticed, it wasn’t commented on. Rather, only her disbelief at the Jersey man’s claims was noticeable, searching for an outlet in the form of several taps of her long, shoddily manicured fake nails on her own bare thigh - which didn’t follow the rhythm of the background song, or of anything at all.

“Oh noooo, far from me to wanna do that, Kyley! She seems like such a dear!” She shook her head as well, more emphatically, huge dangling earrings hitting her cheeks with each turn. Such a dear. A delightful compliment, if not for it being completely fake and also unwarranted considering I hadn’t spoken a word to her yet. “What I’m saying is, maybe sometimes you want to vary your company a bit! If you do…”

And then her hand reached out.

The touch was small, tentative, like a shoplifter discreetly looking around before stuffing a small object inside their jacket. Not noticing, or not caring about, the fact that the security guard had been on to them from the start. It landed on his left shoulder, and though it didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme, there was still some relief to be felt at the fact that the man had ditched the usual tank top for the night in favor of a proper form-fitting t-shirt. One extra layer of protection, however thin, between his skin and hers.

Much to my satisfaction, it didn’t linger for too much. One sudden movement of Kyley’s torso as he turned away to look at something else broke contact, leaving her arm lifted in the air awkwardly. Another chuckle shook the drink I was holding onto, and this time Kandee did send a glare my way, making me mask my reaction of amusement with another sip.

“Well, Kandee, some people…” I cleared my throat, alleviating both the burning sensation of the drink and my own nerves at deciding to finally be a part of the conversation. “Some people like to just have the same company all the time, if the company’s… decent enough.”

“That’s right!” Kyley brought his attention to us again and lifted his own cup towards me, mimicking a toast. Kandee’s eyes followed the movement, sharp as a tack. “Smart words, sweets. But don’t drink too fast. Ain’t no one in a hurry.”

Kandee’s hand, the one she had lifted to touch Kyley, briefly balled into a fist in mid-air, now grasping at the points she hoped to make to turn the conversation in her favor. “Yeeeah, (Y/N) dear, be careful,” she cooed wretchedly, having apparently found the line of thought she wished to sew with. Her hand uncurled, and her index moved in my direction now - resting with intent on the rim of my cup and pressing down, as if she wanted to move the whole thing. “The drinks here are strong, you don’t want to… go over the line or anything.”

I quickly pulled my cup back towards my chest, the liquid inside sloshing around in the process. “I think I can handle it.”

“It’s just friendly advice, love…” We’re not friends. “Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

So do I, I thought as the cup found my mouth again, my gaze defiant while I took another sip. “I can imagine.”

Apparently I needed to work either on my sarcasm intonation or my debate skills, because a grin spread across her face and her lashes batted once more. “Oh, I do, honey,” she continued with a small nod, “But it’s better that you don’t think about it too much either way…”

Another attempt at theft.

And this time, she didn’t even hide it.

Because her arm stretched out again, and this time, her palm was flat and splayed on the left side of his chest. Over his heart, which the beating of now thumped in my ears in the shape of a memory, having heard it so many times with my head laid there.

Into a thousand pieces, it shattered. My respect for the environment around me, my interest in remaining polite and demure, and the fucks I had to give for what Kyley would think of me. I was weirdly aware of the position of my elbow and the movement of my shoulder as my arm swayed - backwards, then forth, one simple flick of my wrist finalizing the act of throwing the drink in my cup in Kandee’s direction. The pull of a marionette’s strings, except I knew who held them. Control was there - and it was being used for what I wanted to do all along.

My eyes brought down to a slow-mo the speed of the liquid splashing onto her body, allowing me to see the impact in its full glory. Her hand backed away from Kyley’s body in an attempt to brace herself that came several seconds too late, and the wet spot on her skin reflected the lights like a disgusting and sticky extension of the sequins of her top. Fitting.

The slow-mo broke with an ear-piercing screech, one that brought all of the clubbers right out of their alcohol plus loud music induced zones and made them turn in its direction. I had a measly nanosecond to garner reactions before my rival made contact with me in a lunge, nails getting caught on my hair as boney fingers found purchase on it. The pull had me roaring in response, my cup being thrown and crashing onto the floor so my hands could try to pull her wrists away - the carrier of the fight’s catalyst now discarded and useless.

An admission had to be made that she had much more stability on her too-many-inches-tall heels than I had on my shorter ones, her legs straight and steady while I had to keep mine slightly apart for any sort of balancing base. But what her possible past experience of pulling this kind of stunt before gave her in efficiency, I had in unbridled rage from my desire to protect what I saw as mine.

A dig of my own nails on her arm made her let go of my hair, yet I couldn’t even be proud of causing her torment, as my own scalp stung fiercely where the strands she had pulled were located. I wouldn’t know if what I was feeling was legitimate adrenaline, but it was pretty fucking close to the usual descriptions of it, since the pain dulled almost instantly and this time it was me going after her, raising my hand and lowering my open palm rapidly, striking wherever I was able to without further consideration. She began mimicking that move once I had one of her arms in grasp of my free hand, the accessories in her wrist clanging against each other and also against my body, and I found myself gritting my teeth to minimize the painful annoyance.

The makeshift ring we had in the form of dance floor space began to increase in size as more and more people stepped back to watch the scene, mostly through the screens of their own phone as they recorded the ordeal. External hands attached to some overly courageous faceless watchers kept on reaching out to us, trying to halt our aggression, yet they’d recoil quickly after one or two slaps we’d spare for them before going back to our original targets. People were yelling all over, trying to talk to each other or to us - yet the only things that reached our ears or left our throats were our own screams and animalistic growls, communicating in a language I’d never properly learned but knew by heart. Each snarl a constructed offense to Kandee’s irksome looks and demeanor, every shriek a warning for her to stay the fuck away from Kyley-B, wherever he was. The language of violence.

Those slaps began alternating with closed fist punches, any bruises or injuries sustained going ignored since we didn’t want to risk missing a chance to land anything else in. My teeth snapped against air in attempts to bite at any inch of her skin that got close enough to my mouth, while her feet turned in awkward directions when she tried to stab my own with her heel. Only much later did I realize the single thing holding me in that fight was that heart-clenching jealousy from earlier, as in any other situation my defeat would’ve been immediate and outright embarrassing. The strength rage brought me was all too appreciated, condensing around my hands in a glove simultaneously agonizing and comforting to wear.

One of her slaps fell weirdly on my exposed collarbone and she huffed following a tiny snapping sound; the fake nails on her middle and ring fingers now dangled precariously from them, broken and lame. Seizing the opportunity, I brought my own hand to her face, my index landing on her right eye in a very happy accident. With a yelp of utter pain, she covered her eye with one hand and pushed me away with the other unceremoniously, using the movement to propel herself back as well, creating a bit of extra distance to recover while I stumbled against an unknown hard surface behind me. Probably one of the onlookers, but I had no interest in apologizing for the impact. They should’ve known better. Looking down at her, I-

Looking down?

Strong, fake-tanned arms had my legs swiftly grabbed in the span of less than a second, throwing me over Kyley-B’s shoulder like I weighed nothing. The rings on his fingers dug slightly onto the back of my thighs in the successful effort of his hands to securely keep me in place, but I still grabbed at his shirt as if it would somehow save me if I were to fall. People around the fighting area all gasped in surprise with their heads tilted up as well, but the Jersey man had his back to most of them and, without as much as a glance or a word, began to carry me away from the scene; this time, he didn’t have to shove anyone away to make way for himself - people were intentionally stepping away from his path, unwilling to get caught in the mess.

The fight I put up to avoid being removed like that was inefficient, but it was there. Despite the fear of falling from the unusual height, my very present anger continued egging me towards bashing Kandee’s face right in, leading me to thrash around in my precarious position, disregarding potential damage trying to get him to drop me so I could go back to my previous task. The other woman clearly had the same idea, attempting to follow us through the corridor, but Kyley’s long stride had her eating dust within moments and she soon gave up, swallowed by the crowd that filled the space he’d gone through. By then my dress had given up on any coverage and was bunched up at my hips, my ass likely on full display to anyone who tried their luck at staring for too long, but the tension in my mind left me oblivious to it.

“Fuck you! Put me down! What are you doing?” I protested between muffled thumps of my fists against Kyley’s shoulder blade, the punches having as much effect as blowing him a kiss when it came to getting him to actually do what I said.

“Takin’ us outta here before the police does,” he grunted simply, turning his head to avoid the backwards kicks of my heels. Even with his eyes not on the target, he knew exactly where to go, able to continue without issue and helped by the voluntary clearing of his personal road.

“I don’t care about the police! Leave me alone!”

He did not.

My exposed skin felt torn through by a sudden gust of cold when the double doors were opened by an unknown entity to let us pass, and my screams of complaint were silenced by a hiss of discomfort. It hadn’t completely missed Kyley, whose shoulder tensed under my body as the difference in temperature caught him too. Getting distance from the club did nothing to dampen my fury and the urge to get back in there, so it was through sustained kicking and punching that the Jersey man power-walked away from the venue and into the young night.

Kyley-B’s sneakers were crunching gravel when he finally slowed down, reaching his car in the parking lot where we’d left it nearly an hour earlier. My throat was rough and tight from yelling, the alcohol not having given me much to fall back on in regards to that - so my complaints were scratchy and punctuated by cough fits, but not any less present.

“Fucking take me back there, you cretin! Put me down!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed noncommittally, the first actual words he’d spoken since we left the bar. But, instead of unlocking the vehicle for either of us to get in, he stopped right in front of it, bending forward slightly and lowering my feet to the ground.

I knew I wasn’t getting out of it that easy, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t make an attempt. As soon as my heels sank between the tiny stones, I was trying to make a run for it towards the exit to the parking lot - without any plan of what I’d do if I succeeded or fear of being tackled by a force much less gentle than the man who held me previously. If I was lucky, I could get back in or catch Kandee outside, rip off a hair extension or two as a prize. Having the scent of trouble as part of his notes and knowing what I was doing, Kyley once more stood ground, his hands drifting with a steady grip up my body as he straightened up in front of me.

“Let! Me! Go!” I insisted, trying to break free from his hold with quick movements of my body, deemed irrelevant in face of his strength.

“Fuckin’ relax already,” he huffed, “You ain’t going nowhere now.”

With just one small step forwards of his, I felt my - bare - ass against the hood of the car, cold from being out in the open at night. That chill spread up through my back, making me shudder; only for Kyley’s intense eyes to heat me up all over again, serious and unyielding gazing down toward me, adding a pinch of lust to the flush of rage on my body.

“Says who?” I questioned in a growl, trying to push away from the car and being pressed towards it further in return.

“You do,” he stated simply. Despite how nonsensical the answer was, it was also serious, as if he was doing nothing but placing a fact.

The scowl of anger I held flashed briefly with confusion, my eyebrows twitching. “The fuck does that even mean?”

This time, what twitched were his fingers on both sides of my hips, pressing down onto the bunched fabric of my dress. A smirk curved his lips, their taunting making me want to claw them right off of him - fuck, maybe Kandee was on to something with the unfashionable long nails. “Well, weren’t ya just yelling and screaming and wanting to be heard? You were saying something. I just listened.”

“I didn’t say anything! I don’t want nothing from you!”

“Oh, but you do.” And I didn’t get the chance to complain about how he was repeating himself - because with his hands still holding me, he began lowering himself to the ground, the crunching noises of the gravel beneath his knees deafening in the empty space. The stab of lust, which I was well-acquainted with, that went right through my womb at the sight of him looking up at me with that devilish smile made me groan in irritation with how I needed to rapidly suppress it.

“Stop talking nonsense!” My hands moved to his shoulders to try and shove him away this time, but all I managed from that contact was feeling the lift of them as Kyley-B shrugged carelessly.

“Alright.” He wiggled his eyebrows twice, his cursed smile not diminishing as he dropped his eyes towards what was right in front of him, level with my abdomen. “You talk then.”

There was no way in hell he’d given up so easily. I knew as much. But I couldn’t let the asinine behavior make me forget just how pissed off I was at this dude - this goddamn sexy, strong dude kneeling in front of me like- Focus!

“I have nothing to talk to you about!” Even in my annoyed tone, there was a shaky background to it now - my affections shining through, unfortunately. One of my feet stomped onto the ground once, commanding his eyes back on mine, to be taken seriously - instead, the hand closest to that leg tightened briefly on my hip before both of them began drifting down. It didn’t take long for those palms to reach bare skin, caressing the sides of my thighs, reminding me of just how uncovered the lower half of me had been since he picked me up back at the bar.

“You do.” Again, he repeated without missing a beat - and, not catching some deep-seated request of the old ‘me’ to be covered again, he brought the bunched dress further up, baring my legs completely; goosebumps all over them both from the slight cold and his touch, though I wouldn’t admit to the latter. “You’ve been yelling so much, it’s fuckin’ obvious. So do tell.” My thighs pressed together when his olive gaze landed on my underwear, the only coverage I had right then - if you could even call that the plain black ensemble I had on. Thin lace, which usually drew from him some sort of husky praise, but all I got was a faint tickle when his fingers began tracing the pattern of it on the waistband.

They hooked onto it after a moment, tugging down with the slowest pace, and the objection that instantly formed in my brain from the anger - telling him to stop, to pay attention to me - failed to make its way to my mouth. How could it? I was there because of him. My body craved Kyley’s touch like the feeling of home. Even those panties had been chosen with him in mind, knowing they’d be taken off later. My muscles were frozen, but my mind ran wild: the result was staying right put while refusing to be his mental peace. “Why don’t you go and ask fucking Kandee if she’s got something to say? Clearly y’all chummy enough for you to wanna know.”

Only later, sober, would I have noticed how easily I fell into his trap, the jealous sentence slipping from me in the form of an accusation while I thought it was a genius clapback. In my defense, it was my first time feeling that way.

The Jersey man clicked his tongue once, his eyes following the movement of his own hands. Down, down, those long fingers dragging my panties to my knees. “I don’t wanna know about her, I wanna know about you,” he insisted, his tone firm in its tease - for once in his life, he hadn’t taken to heart a complaint regarding him. “I’m chummy enough with you.”

I don’t wanna know about her - fuck if that sentence didn’t make the monster inside me growl in appreciation. Green-eyed. Like the man who caused it to awaken. This appreciation put a blowtorch to the ice that toughened my muscles, and I shifted my weight uncomfortably on my feet, testing the hint of movement that had been granted me. “Fuck off with that. If you wanted to know about me, you wouldn’t have left me alone back there,” I huffed, turning my face up to the night sky to avoid staring too much at the man down there to avoid further warming my cold shoulder.

“Mmhmm.” Right as I had committed to avoiding laying eyes on Kyley, my balance shifted terribly, a loud sound booming through the parking lot when I slammed my palms on the car hood behind me trying to stay upright. For the second time that night that he’d done something like this without warning, the man had lifted up my right foot, taking my panties off of that side and leaving the left leg ignored. Methodically, deeming irrelevant the noise or my gasp of surprise when I’d almost fallen - as long as he was there, I wouldn’t. “And that makes ya feel some type of way.”

“Of course I feel some type of fucking way!” With me trying to tug my own foot away from his grasp so I could stomp it on the ground again being fruitless, I settled for slapping the hood of the car a second time, figuring damage to the vehicle would startle him out of the nonchalance - yet he simply caressed my ankle with his thumb, the only show of acknowledgement on his part that I’d noticed when looking down being a particularly forceful blink. “I get my ass all dolled up for you, get out of my own fucking house to spend time with you and what do you do? You go talk to some fucking skank instead!”

A reaction. Sneaky, occurring despite himself, Kyley’s usual Jersey sincerity unable to hold back fully no matter how he tried. His bottom lip got caught between his teeth, his shirt shifting minimally with a brief tense of his shoulders, before he relaxed again. Whether it was the unbecoming amount of curse words in my voice or the content of my sentences, he wasn’t unaffected. “I… Fuck. Go on,” he grunted after a deep breath, resuming intentional movement: bringing the foot he held to his shoulder and keeping it there with one hand, placing the other on the inside of my left thigh. The warmth of his palm so intentionally close to my center would’ve been scorching if not for how heated his teasing moves already had me feeling.

The feedback hadn’t been enough, and it was driving me crazy, more than I even had gone during the fight. The walls of my throat burned with an acid sensation, wanting to say everything and nothing at the same time, dissolving me from the inside out. Where was his knowledge of me when I needed it?

“‘Go on!’ I- Look, just take me back home already,” I huffed, trying to ignore the increasingly overwhelming heat inside of me. If I couldn’t have what I wanted, neither would he, regardless of how much I wanted what he did too. ”I don’t wanna talk about this or anything else with you right now.”

With those words, Kyley’s fingers curled more vehemently around my ankle, like he’d been woken up from a state of drowsiness. His eyes snapped up to meet mine, and there he was again - intensity that teetered towards brutality, unwavering, infuriatingly dominant. If not for the things left unsaid, I might’ve been the one dropping to my knees there. “Stay,” he ordered, his tone making up in firmness for the usual anger it was conveniently missing. “Kitty wanted to show claw back there and argue, didn’t cha? Now I wanna fuckin’ hear ya meow.”

My thigh muscles quivered slightly, that being the stupidest last-ditch effort they could make to tell me to close myself off - both physically and emotionally - altogether. I knew his insistence would drop at the faintest hint of legitimate refusal from me: Kyley had never done to me anything I hadn’t wanted, and as much as I wouldn’t have admitted that then, he was just too fucking good a teacher to desires I struggled with understanding. Through that burning in my throat, I still couldn’t draw up any refusal, since there was none inside.

Plus the threat of my absence had made the Jersey man all too aware of the itch under his own skin, I could tell. Because he wasted no more time before putting his face close up to my pussy, startling me slightly and making me back up even more towards the car while he deeply inhaled the scent of me. His hand inched even closer, his intention clear - mine, too, when my hips shifted automatically towards him, my clit brushing against his nose.

And there he stayed.

Sight locked onto my face, wide dark pupils reflecting whatever tiny dots of light they could catch from sources nearby. If I focused, I’d see myself in them.

Waiting.

Kyley wasn’t lying when he said he wanted me to meow; if I wanted to be soothed from the ache his proximity had developed within me, then I’d better start talking. His breath so close to where I was most sensitive felt like a caress, bringing me a strange sense of comfort regardless of the nature of that contact.

“And… And I don’t even know what you see in her!” When I resumed speaking, it was undecided, still reeling from the scolding I’d received - but remembering the subject lit a fire under my ass again, and I was interested in rambling again in the blink of an eye. “Everything about her is fake! Her face, her hair, her goddamn-”

I cut myself off with a cry. Kyley’s soft lips had found my clit and wrapped around it, sucking with gentle steadiness. His tongue flicked over it carefully, unwilling to overwhelm me but certainly demanding attention. Which it got. The fingertip of his index circled my entrance with a feather-light graze, annoying in its taunt - the Jersey playboy couldn’t speak, but he was still telling me to talk. And I had to retract every single time I’d shushed someone into silence in my job at the library, because I found myself to be quite the blabbermouth.

“Ngh… Her- ah- her fucking clothes-” His finger breached my entrance all the way to the first knuckle, and the odd absence of the feeling of hard metal against my walls meant he was either favourably missing one on that particular digit or took it off while I wasn’t looking.” “- They’re so fucking trashy! She dresses like a whole-ass hooker, I don’t know what you see in-” Another interruption as his finger began pumping in and out of me, matching the rhythm his tongue had on my clit. Sure of itself, sure of how needed it was.

Whines began spilling from me, half grateful for the permission of pleasure and half critical of it not being nearly enough. The unshakeable concentration I used to build up my animosity towards Kandee was becoming flimsier, my hands balling into fists over the hood of the car like they wanted to physically hold onto that negativity, while the riveting touches I was receiving begged - not exactly silently, given the wet sounds my cunt was making with the pumps of Kyley’s finger - for me to let go and be free.

“And it’s such bullshit that you listened to her… You just left me there… Aaah…”

Every time I tried to resume stating my grievances, more of the decisiveness was shaved from my tone when Kyley showed that he was, in fact, listening. A second finger found its way deep inside me, then a third after a particularly curse-heavy protest; curling inside of me seductively, massaging my G-spot with the magical precision only someone who knew my body better than I did could gather. Meanwhile, his soft tongue lapped and swirled around my clit in earnest, making me even more delirious with desire.

Closing my eyes in that state brought me right back to the club from earlier: with its colorful lights sparking behind my eyelids, their glow now inviting instead of oppressive. A separate party made specifically for me and under my own terms. Rainbows of neon in the darkness, their hues hitting my skin and healing me with their energy in ways that would make even the highest partygoers back at the real place think maybe they had enough. The thumping in my ears no longer came from mediocre remixes or my heart in the throes of rage - now it matched the tempo of my clenching walls, with the squelching from the thrusts of the Jersey man’s fingers in and out providing a perfect background beat and the less than conscious rolls of my hips towards his mouth being my own way of dancing to it.

Damn, I guess that drink I had was stronger than I thought.

Weaving through the colors and music, there was one other presence. Kyley-B and the reds and oranges that I’ve learned to attach to the memory of him, fiery, burning me up. Because of course - he was the one who brought me all that bliss, who pulled me into that mental space that ressignified all my experiences into something marvelous. Perhaps I wasn’t listening to his grunts of satisfaction at my taste on his tongue, but I could feel them vibrating up my skin, adding to the inevitable climax building up inside me.

“I… I didn’t-… Ngh… Ah-… I didn’t want to… Mmph…”

As the blaze in my lower abdomen roared fiercer and fiercer, the sour coating in my throat had wholly vanished, converted into honey with every whine and cry I let out. Some attempts at speaking were still weakly being made, now more due to Kyley having requested it rather than any remaining outrage, but they got lost almost immediately.

And I only had the vocalizations of ecstasy to give out when the inner inferno hit me like an outside explosion, endorsed to my hazy mind by the bang of metal when my ass hit the car hood - my straightened knee buckling and denying me of balance when my orgasm struck, any leftover stress and tension rippling right out via my quivering muscles. Over Kyley’s shoulder, his hand tightened around my ankle to keep it held while the fingers on the other continued to fuck me through my orgasm without faltering.

Only when my legs started literally shaking from overstimulation and another metallic sound denounced that I’d laid down fully over the car, my eyes wide staring at the moon above without committing the sight to memory, did the man decide he was “done”. Scare quotes needed, as he never seemed to be quite done with me. He let go of me and got up quickly, one hand already moving to his belt - frankly, the fact he’d managed to go all that time teasing and listening without actually giving me dick was commendable in itself for how out of character that restraint was.

“Ya good enough to handle it now, doll face?” He asked roughly, the other hand moving to my knee, which shook under his touch. My eyes were drawn to it, then to his own, my vision still unfocused from pleasure - but taking in his handsome face and the obvious interest in his features had my mouth watering. I nodded automatically, not trusting myself to speak lest I actively drool.

The next seconds were a blur - he might’ve taken his time with me, but now his hunger was back in full force and he was not gonna starve any longer. His pants and underwear were down in one swift movement, and just as swiftly he’d grabbed my hips and pulled me along the hood towards him, both my legs wrapping around his waist like they’d been trained for such. Then all of his length was inside me; one fast, slick thrust making me cry out again with a volume I didn’t know I even had to give anymore as he filled up the emptiness his fingers left.

“Thank fuck,” he panted, the sheer relief in that breath he let out showing just how much being patient had taken out of him. Waiting for something he wanted was physical pain to the Jersey playboy, and my cunt was finally healing that ache.

Taking advantage of how wet and ready I was, he didn’t wait for me to adapt to his girth; the pace he immediately set was quick and rough, slamming into me with the frenzy a man only gets when he’s one moment away from pleading. He didn’t quite get to doing that, probably would’ve died before it happened, but it was obvious. The hold on my hips, possessive as always, continued pulling me towards him so I’d meet those harsh thrusts like the concept of any space between us was inadmissible, a concept corroborated by the dents his fingers created on my flesh where they held my hips.

With his cock knocking the air right out of my lungs every time its head slammed right into my cervix, and the lightning jolts that struck my body in succession, it was outright impossible for me to form any of those complaints he’d demanded from me earlier - but luckily they were no longer necessary, as my companion appeared to have forgotten all about that situation. And so had I, fully now. Kandee who? What club? At that moment, Kyley-B was mine, irrevocably. Those strong arms that held me so tight, those hips that my legs struggled to stay wrapped around with how fast they moved, those groans and huffs of bliss when I clenched even tighter around him… those were mine.

Mind reader that he was - or likely noticing the smile that had grown on my face, the delight in my features that went past just sexual pleasure -, Kyley leaned towards me when that knowledge permeated my hazy brain, his breath warm against my skin as he rested his forehead on my collarbone. “Fucking beautiful thing you are, sweets,” he husked with a grin of his own, “I’m all here f’ya…”

I hummed in agreement at his words, though they’d take two or three more thrusts before I’d actually understand them. “Here for me…” I echoed in hardly a breath, closing my eyes and letting his presence encompass me again.

The top of my dress was hastily tugged down, possibly by his teeth, letting my breasts spill free from it due to the lack of a bra. Those same teeth briefly bit my hardened nipple and the gasp from the minimal pain I felt dissolved into a moan when his lips began suckling on me, instantly soothing and bringing more sparks of delight to my skin with the movement of his mouth.

After years, that fucking garment had finally paid itself via the ease it created for that moment to happen - and if I started wearing it more I might have to give it even more money instead.

“And you’re here f’me too, ain’t ya, pretty…? Soft and wet and ready and all that good stuff that you are… Just for me…” Kyley broke his veneration of my breast temporarily to speak between harsh breaths, his hips starting to stray from the speedy pace they had set as he got lost in the heat and scent of my body, frenzy for frenzy’s sake becoming a chase after his release.

Oh, I was everything for him. Pretty, flexible, ready, soft… and most importantly, close. I almost couldn’t feel the metal under me anymore with how my back arched away from it, pressing my upper body towards his own. With a full-body jerk courtesy of the extra sensitivity from being overstimulated earlier, I shouted his name out into the world as I came again, my legs somehow finding strength to wrap around him more fiercely, trapping his body against mine while my cunt milked his cock for everything that it had. This time, I was taking him out with me. And it worked - his roar sent another shiver through me as his throbbing length, still relentlessly thrusting inside of me, filled me with strong jets of his seed. Leaving me full of him.

With the bliss of climax keeping us together in the beautiful moment that followed, with him laid on top of me and slowing his movements to a stop as we both panted our lungs out, I fleetingly felt an abnormal sense of pride. But as the fog of lust dissipated from over us like dry ice, one specific sentiment I hadn’t had time or need to feel yet ultimately emerged. Embarrassment. Memories of the fight, the punches exchanged, and most of all, the things I’d told Kyley while he was eating me out. Even the pain from the bruises and small injuries I’d sustained from the brawl arose too, having waited specifically for that moment - where I’d be at my lowest, raw enough to feel everything times a hundred. That pride went as it came. Fast and undeserved.

Pretending nothing had happened wasn’t an option. The ordeal was ridiculous, out of character, a severe lapse of judgement; yet it was me regardless. Confessing to all those emotions of jealousy and agony while in one of my most vulnerable moments - with my cunt right on Kyley’s mouth - made it impossible to just ignore. I had done all those things and needed to bear the consequences.

“I… I’m sorry.” I muttered, nearly inaudible, turning my frowning face to the side and closing my eyes. It was too shameful to stare at Kyley in that moment.

A deep breath of his made goosebumps spread on my chest before he placed the softest kiss to the valley between my breasts. “Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” My repetition came louder, more stiff, with my frown intensifying as I decided to get serious. “I don’t know what came over me there, I…”

“I said don’t.” That firmness I held was mirrored by him - but in his voice, it was way more powerful. Enough to make my eyes snap open. “Didn’t ask ya to apologize for nothin’.”

Kyley’s weight left my body and I looked at him to see he had adjusted his posture; standing tall with his cock still inside of me, a smirk twitching one corner of his mouth when he saw me staring. Those large hands began roaming the uncovered parts of my body - which were virtually all of it - distractedly, palm fully open to feel as much of it as possible. A sheen of sweat lingered on his fake-tanned skin and had also dampened his shirt, making it cling to the point where I could discern his actual muscles - or maybe said shirt was just that tight and I was just that used to his body.

What really confounded me was how happy he seemed. In that smirk, taunting as usual, there was genuine contentment, which I’d learned to recognize in him from those moments we’d spent just the two of us. That memory made my heart clench; those moments, which had been so important to me and I’d worried so much that he didn’t feel the same about them. The embarrassment had also brought back the insecurity about them, and through all I’d confessed, at no point did I actually find out what I wanted.

“But I have to.” I propped myself on my elbows, attempting to meet his certainty head-on by repositioning my body. “I went all crazy. I picked a whole fight and almost made us get kicked out of the club. I ruined our night.”

“Ruined?” Kyley frowned. “I think it went pretty great.” He glanced down, towards where we were still connected, that smirk never leaving.

For emphasis, he moved his hip the smallest bit towards mine one last time, his softening dick moving inside me and making me bite my lip briefly before he completely pulled out. Smooth son of a bitch. But I needed to face the music.

“You know what I mean,” I insisted, “I know I shouldn’t have done all that, but… It was a lot, okay? I got really nervous because you weren’t there and-”

“That’s not what ya tryna apologize for, though.”

“I am!”

“Nah. You didn’t get nervous.” His hands squeezed my shoulders, where they’d stopped their roaming briefly before returning to that. “You got jealous. There’s a difference.”

Well. with or without taking Merriam-Webster into consideration, he wasn’t wrong - nonetheless, hearing it from his mouth was bothersome. “That- that doesn’t matter. I really was nervous…”

“It matters. One’s hotter.”

I gasped. “Huh?”

My reaction made Kyley’s lips twitch at the corners in genuine amusement while he leaned towards me, placing his palms on the car hood on either side of my thighs now. “You got jealous and it was hot as hell.” In tandem with the teasing edge of his explanation, there was certainty. “My sweet little kitten gettin’ feisty with this chick she didn’t even know just because she got too close to me? Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

The feral part of said kitten wanted to ask why the fuck he hadn’t told me that sooner. But, unfortunately, it was asleep, and what was awake was the one that couldn’t remotely conceive what he was on about due to shame. “It wasn’t gorgeous, it was embarrassing!” I protested, “A scandal, Kyley! I started this fight in front of all those people-”

“Beautiful fight, by the way,” he interjected, his left hand moving to reassuringly rest over my right. “You landed some real nice hits on her there. Should’ve known you had it in ya. Made me hard as fuck.”

“H-hard?”

“Goddamnit, baby, why do you think I took you outta there so fast like that?” He chuckled dryly. “Damn near impossible to stay even a second longer without gettin’ my hands on you, and then you’d have a real fuckin’ scandal.”

My face heated up again, for a different reason. When I thought I’d heard it all from him, he’d come up with stuff like this and make me blush shades of red I didn’t know the human skin could achieve. “What about Kandee, then?” I pushed the words out with a slight struggle, dragging the weight of the matter over my tongue like sandpaper. “I hit her! I hurt her! You care about her, don’t you?”

“FUCK no!”

The scene that unfolded was nearly hilarious. Losing the taunt altogether, Kyley huffed and shook his head fiercely, reminding me in a weird way of a dog that had just been fed medicine - if I pressed the issue, I might’ve witnessed him actively retching to try and spit my words out. “I never wanted nothing to do with her. She’s garbage!”

Not that I didn’t agree - heaven knows I did -, but such a visceral reaction drew shock from me. “But I thought-” I sputtered, coughing to clear my throat while trying not to appear as pleasantly surprised as I was. I still needed an explanation, after all. “- But I thought you were close!”

Another huff. “Don’t bunch me up with that shit.” He rolled his eyes. “That bitch is fucking annoying is what she is. Pisses me the fuck off. Don’t know a single fucker that wants to be near all that bullshit.”

Even though I refrained from full-blown laughing, the smallest snort still went through my nose, and from how Kyley’s smirk returned, safe to say he’d caught on to that. “But why be so nice to her, then? Why talk to her at all?”

“Because you’re always tellin’ me to chill!” He gestured towards me with one hand. “You’re always doing shit for me. Gettin’ dressed up all pretty and goin’ places with me. I didn’t wanna stress you out.”

Any words I’d ever learned were wiped right out of my mind for a moment, leaving only the specific sequence of I didn’t wanna stress you out. Never before had I seen the Kyley-B care about the peace of mind of anyone - not even his own, considering how he tagged along with trouble in a very close friendship. Regardless, here he was, telling me he’d been nice to someone he didn’t even like specifically because he thought it’d humor me.

“So I thought maybe I could play it cool and she would leave, no sweat,” he continued, “But then you came and I had to commit.”

“... Why me?”

Momentarily, Kyley looked as confused as I was. “What?”

The questioning left my vocal chords mechanically. My insecurity had them well-trained for that. “Why me?” I repeated, placing one hand in front of my mouth to hide at least part of the jaw-dropped expression that I couldn’t shake and which showed in my tone regardless of if I’d managed to visually hide all of it. “Why would you do all that for someone like me? I’m just another girl!”

“Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Don’t do this to me now,” I sighed, “You know it, Kyley. You have so many girls that hang out with you all the time. You can do whatever you want… You don’t owe me a single thing.” My voice got thicker with emotion, and I dropped my hand as I lowered my face. “It really is ridiculous. I got jealous around you and we’re not even together.”

“Well, let’s get this show on the road then!”

I didn’t need to look at him to tell that the confusion had vanished. Usual Kyley-B, confident, strong-willed and opinionated, was back. And, much like many times before where he’d done something that came out of nowhere, I was left stunned.

Time spent together had taught him how to work around this, given he didn’t wait for me to talk before continuing. “If the issue is we’re not together, then let’s be together,” he declared, “There ya go. No more issue.”

My heart skipped a beat at those two little sentences, jumping at the opportunity to take them for itself. Yet it didn’t matter what it wanted - my rational mind knew how things actually were with Kyley. “That’s not how it works.”

“And why not?”

I swallowed hard, preparing to say the words that were sure to squeeze my chest into a bloody pulp. “Being ‘together’ is not what you think it is, Kyley,” I told him, and sure enough, each syllable was harder and harder to push out. “Sure, we hang out, we talk, we… fuck… But it’s not just that. It’s a lot of other stuff, it’s more important.”

“I know that,” He groaned, clearly growing frustrated with having to extend a question that to him had a clear-cut answer. “Like bein’ exclusive, right? Goin’ on dates, livin’ together and shit?”

Him saying it with all the words so easily wasn’t on the script, but it did save me the trouble of explaining. “Well… Yes. Mostly that.”

“Then I don’t know what the fuck we’re waitin’ for!”

I lifted my face to look at him. He’d crossed his arms and was shifting his weight between his legs restlessly, looking bigger than usual given how small I felt yet somehow… vulnerable at the same time.

“Look, I don’t… I don’t want to take anything from you,” I admitted gingerly, my throat getting agonizingly tighter as I thought about what the fuck we, or at least I, had been waiting for. “You… You like to party, to be with other girls. You don’t want me to take that away from you.”

“Take what away? What you’re talkin’ about ain’t that much different from what I’ve been doin’ already,” he countered, shrugging with naturality. But then his eyebrows arched, awareness of something crossing his mind - something unknown flashed behind his eyes while his upper body tensed up, hands balling into fists with his arms still crossed. “Unless you…”

“No!” I exclaimed right away, my eyes widening. There was no fear in my face or in my voice - only astonishment that such a concept would even be brought up as an option. “I’m not, at all!”

His guarded posture loosened up immediately at my confirmation, but my astonishment didn’t. The clear upset he had displayed at the assumption of me being with other men besides him had me caught up in it. It was familiar - and suddenly I was all the way back inside the club, cackling with that fury I had roaring inside my chest. Kyley… He’d known what that was before I did. And if it had been so strong within me, who’d never dealt with it before… How painful could it be to someone who was like that by default?

My gaze softened towards him, trying to bring him further tranquility. “I’m… Not with anyone.” I repeated, shaking my head slowly. “Are you?”

“Ain’t that what I just said?” The corners of his lips twitched, a pleased smile trying to form. “No, I’m not. Haven’t been since you came into my life.”.

Truth was, I hadn’t been exactly caught up in Kyley-B’s romantic or sexual endeavors - a deliberate decision that had eaten me up inside, but which the absence of would’ve proven even more unhealthy considering what I thought I’d find out. I didn’t want to hear about all the women he was likely getting it on with, women that my mind perceived as being much prettier, much more fun, much better aligned with what he demanded in life. Yes, the fact that he hadn’t brought it up in conversation either had been a little off to me - it wasn’t like he’d made an effort to hide his popularity from what I’d known of him prior to actually getting involved with the guy -, but I’d attributed it to just… basic human decency he wasn’t impervious to. Not to there being literally nothing to bring up.

“I… Didn’t know that.”

“‘Course you didn’t. Wouldn’t be having this talk if ya did.”

“So… Does that mean…” I coughed once, trying to distract myself from how fast my heart was beating. Put myself together. “You’ve just been… Waiting? For me?”

“Sorta, yeah. I was tryna… be better for you, actually.” And for the first time in that conversation, he averted his eyes. His arms uncrossed, lingering at his sides lazily, making him look every bit like an awkward teenager about to confess to his crush. Reticent and so unlike him. “Get my shit together. Put in the work if I wanna be worthy, ya know? Cut back on the bullshit to show I can settle down and-”

My heels were on the ground before I knew it. The scent of sweat and Kyley’s usual cologne invaded my nostrils when my face found his neck, with my arms wrapping around him with all the strength I could muster. I didn’t care about fixing the dress on my body or cutting back on the emotion; I needed him as close as I could, needed him to know exactly how much I’d cared through the past months, all the anguish I’d had in me each day that passed without being his. Not formally, anyway.

And he’d been waiting to be better for me. How the fuck did he not know he was already the best he could ever be, and that I’d been the one thinking I lacked what was necessary to be his partner? Hadn’t he seen all the changes within me, how much more free I acted when he was around, how he brought forth everything my heart desired in the simplest way possible?

“Fuck you,” I muttered against his shirt, my upper body shaking as tears began to stung in my eyes, making my breath catch in my throat. “Fuck you, you dumbass.”

There was absolutely no bite in my curses, but they still startled the man inside my embrace, who quickly wrapped his own arms around me protectively. “Calm down, sweet,” he murmured back, kissing the side of my head and letting his lips linger there. “This ain’t you.”

“No way. Fuck you.” A sob cut my sentence in half, and I had to take a deep breath before resuming it, overpowered by sentiment. “You don’t have to change a thing.”

“You just called me a dumbass. Don’t I have to change that?”

I shook my head, my nose ruffling his shirt. “Not even that. But you should’ve told me.”

Another kiss, his breath ruffling my hair as he chuckled. “I didn’t want ya to feel pressured.” He confessed, losing some of the worry I’d drawn up in him with my sudden actions. “Wanted ya to come to me on your own terms. Not feel forced just because I was doin’ work. If you were happy with how things were, then… I wanted to stick around and be a part of that.”

“Happy with how things were?” I pulled back slightly, finding him already looking down at me. His olive eyes were unusually gentle, a lightness reserved to either post-coital moments or days where we’d dial back and spend quality time together in more peaceful ways than he was accustomed to. Now I’d have to add ‘charged confessions in dark parking lots’ as a third situation. “Kyley, it’s been… Lovely. Every single day we spent together was awesome. I just… didn’t think you cared about anything more… And I didn’t want to be a bother with what I wanted.”

Again, the concept of distance between us became unimaginable to Kyley. One of his hands found the back of my head and pressed it right against his shoulder again, keeping me there gently. “Don’t ever say that shit again.” Yes, there was heftiness to his scolding, but it was tender - maybe he wanted it to come off a lot nicer than it did. “You could never bother me. Goddamn, doll… You’re amazing. You taught me shit I’d never even imagined. You showed me things I didn’t know I needed. You… You’re it for me, (Y/N).”

My tears began freely dampening his shirt, but I didn’t care. Those sentences, that simple declaration Kyley-B style, direct and honest and endearing and perfect. It might not have been as grandiose as the confessions I’d read in the many romance novels I’d consumed, but did it matter? It was all I ever wanted to hear from the man I wanted to hear them from. And that made it the most wonderful moment imaginable.

Through my tears, I started laughing. A soft, light giggle, swaying my heart into relief and calm by shaking away all the leftover pain. “You’re it for me too, Kyley,” I murmured with a choked sob, “I don’t want you to change. I want to be with you, just the way you are.”

“Then ya got me,” he concluded in a whisper. Unnecessary, given how alone we were outside, but it held weight - even if we’d been in the most populated space imaginable, those words were meant for me only. “You’re always gonna have me, baby. I wasn’t ever anywhere else… You’ve been stuck with me since the moment we met.”

Funny he said that. Because I always thought it was the other way around. The tiny wisp of me, following this great thing that was him. Hoping to one day walk together. When we’d been doing so all that time.

A few sniffles helped with slowing down the fall of my tears, along with him caming me down. His fingers scratched the back of my head distractedly, curling into my hair in a cautious caress. In that moment, in his arms, he held the most precious thing he had. And I did too.

“But… If you want to continue trying to get me to stay by startin’ shit in nightclubs, I don’t mind. I told ya, it’s really fucking hot,” he added playfully, tugging at my hair once before petting it again. “Just want ya to know you don’t have to. No one’s gonna steal me.”

“Screw you,” I chuckled, stepping lightly on his shoe in retaliation. “If you’d told me how you felt earlier, I wouldn’t have had to do that.”

“Maybe not.” He took his foot away from under mine, giving it the smallest kick. “But I loved to see it. Shows you care, doll. And that… That makes me happy.”

This realization made my tears stop completely with how impactful it was. I… hadn’t seen it that way. All I latched onto was how awful it felt, how ridiculous, how unlike me it was.Maybe it wasn’t unlike me - it was just the part of me that cared about that Jersey playboy a little too much trying to show that.

Taking that into consideration, perhaps his nice confessions and protective stances were… his way of doing the same.

“Maybe I can do that in other ways,” I squeezed him inside of my arms briefly. “Without… You know… Causing a ruckus.”

“Have you ever seen me give a fuck about ruckus?” Kyley said playfully. “We’ll go at your pace, sweets. Gonna be perfect regardless.”

No doubt it would. Yet, considering he was giving me his ‘permission’... Maybe his inner ruckus and mine could mingle more from then on.

Normalcy returned with our light-hearted banter. Our surroundings became irrelevant. We stayed in that embrace for what felt like an eternity and not long enough, chests rising and falling against each other in peaceful deep breaths while our hearts beat in synchronicity. Not the first time we were like this, and definitely not the last, but special. Like a warm light, one I’d been chasing for so long, had at last wrapped around us, tying us together like never before.

“But look, if I can just say somethin’...”

Heeere we go. That tone of his that drags on, starting unassuming, but promising a Jersey-level rant. I could recognize that from miles away.w

“It’s been fuckin’ hard, ya know? Tryna be nice to so many of these people. This town is filled with so many assholes ya wouldn’t believe this shit. I don’t know how you manage! It’s all…”

Yup, there it is.

I listened to all of it with a smile on my face. Because it was mine to listen to. Kyley-B was mine, he trusted me, he wanted me - prim and proper or starting shit, it didn’t matter. And I’d want him in any way that he came, as long as it was towards me.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

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