Kyle Spencer Imagine
(New imagine and tumblr writer here! Enjoy! I’m super proud of this.)(Also fem! reader)
“No, you’re not wearing that, nope. Not on my watch.”
You groaned and tugged down your cropped Led Zeppelin hoodie, eyeing your ripped jeans in the mirror before turning to Kyle, your boyfriend of a year and a half. “Kyle, it’s not even revealing.”
You and Kyle were getting ready to go to a party his frat brothers were hosting, and though you were not really all that of a party animal, you just like the free liquor. Kyle was already in his frat attire and you had to admit looking quite fine.
Your adorable, moppy headed boyfriend stalked over and flipped you around so you were facing him. He pointed to your belly button an then tugged at the waist of your pants.
“Your stomach is showing, and those jeans hug your figure so well I’m getting a little turned on right now myself. You know frat parties, the guys there are ruthless.” He shook his head and walked over to your closet, before he tugged out a gray baseball tee. “This always looks good on you.”
You rolled your eyes before going over and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, setting your cheek on his arm. “Kyle, I’ve worn skimpier outfits out before, what’s up with you?”
You could feel his heartbeat with your palm over his chest and inhaling his scent was like inhaling a sweet poison. Kyle was your drug, and you were in love with him, and more recently he had been acting really protective of you and critiquing ever single item of clothing you wore. It was odd, he never cared what you wore as long as he was the only one who could take the clothes off in the end. You were at level with his shoulders (Yay tall girls! too many imagines w short girls) and gazed at his eyes with expectancy.
“No reason, Y/N, I just don’t want anyone trying to make a move because they see my girlfriend and wanna make her theirs.” He said, but you could feel the skip in his heartbeat through your fingertips.
It’s your turn to spin him around in skepticism as he bites his lip. “Spill. There’s more to it Kyle, I know you, baby.”
You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, a coaxing method to get him to know that he didn’t need to hide from you and should never have anything to hide from you, never. He caved into your touch and sighed heavily while wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.
“You know Klaus?” He asked softly after a few seconds.
You furrowed your eyebrows as the image of his muscular and well looking frat brother popped into your mind. Klaus was a good looking football player, but God was he a jerk to you. Just last week he had started a rumor that you sold weed to undergrads, the cheapest on the market. You were still having to explain to some freshman that you did not, in fact, even smoke weed yourself (which was a little lie). "Yeah, the one that is always starting shit with me?“
Kyle groaned and took one hand off of your waist to massage the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, exactly that one.”
“What about him?” You asked curiously. What did a brick brain have to do with your attire?
“The last frat meeting he ditched on us and when I went to confront him about it, I overheard him telling the boys that he had the ‘hots’ for you. He said the next time he saw a strip of skin that even tempted him, he would take you then and there, not caring that I would be around.” When Kyle finished explaining he groaned and pulled away from you, throwing himself on your bed.
You gaped and were left staring at the rack of clothes in front of you. Klaus had a crush on you? He always insulted and teased you to no extent, pulled pranks that really weren’t nice, and never once apologized when it went too far. It was surprising, but also made you blush. Not that you enjoyed it, it was just really embarrassing that he told you he would ‘take’ you to other guys. Pfft, as if you’d let him. You turned your head around to see Kyle peering at you with a small frown on his face.
You giggled and walked over before climbing on top of him as he watched wearily. “And how does that make you feel?”
Kyle’s eyes weren’t alight as they usually were, full of happiness and sparkling like diamonds; they were dark and dull. And you had expected them to be full of anger and rage, like how he would usually react, you did not expect the look of insecurity he was wearing. Kyle looked vulnerable as if he were experiencing a major crisis (like you during finals).
“Bad, Y/N, that’s how it makes me feel.” He flipped positions so you were underneath him and he was straddling your hips, but he was sitting up straight looking at the wall as he spoke.
“Why, Kyle? Why does it make you feel bad?” You were worried now, and tried to sit up, up he pinned you down with his hand.
He let out a frustrated sigh and you swore you saw a glint in his eyes like he was tearing up. This made you struggle against his palm that was pressing you down by your chest. “It makes me feel bad, Y/N, because he’s so much better than me. He’s got money, looks, and social status. He could buy you a Ferrari as casual as I would buy you a vase of roses, he has a six pack that I know girls drool over, and he gets into the really elite clubs with a simple head nod. I can’t buy you a car, I have rolls, and I can only get into the clubs with a twenty dollar bribe – and those aren’t even the good clubs. The point is why wouldn’t you leave me for someone like him? You deserve someone who can give you the world – you deserve it.”
Kyle was breathing hard and this made your heart clench in your chest. You were frozen and out of words to say as he climbed off of you and sat on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands as his shoulders began to shake. You were stunned, because frankly you couldn’t believe someone as perfect as Kyle ever had room to be insecure. A surge of emotion crashed over you in an almighty wave, and you sprung forward and yanked him by the neck back onto the bed. He yelped but you managed to spread him on his back in the middle of the bed and straddled him before placing your lips on his softly. He failed to respond as you stroked the tears off of his perfect face. Then you pulled back slightly so that your forehead was against his as you spoke strongly, confident in your response.
“Kyle, I could not give two fucks about Klaus, his status, or his money. I want you, and I would never leave you for a narcissistic, rock brained asshole who smells like sweat all the damn time. Kyle, I love you for you, and for the reasons that make you his polar opposite. I love that you buy me roses instead of a car, I mean what sentimental value is in a hunk of metal? Your rolls are extremely sexy, and I have more than you! Social status, I mean, the fact that you think that matters at all to me is surprising. I hate elite clubs. I like being in places where people are real. Not plastic or molded by society. You’re your own planet, Kyle, not all of them are the same and you’re unique and I fucking love planet Kyle. And if you’re worrying that planet Klaus is going to try and touch me at all, you need to relax. I’m your moon, not his.”
Kyle cried even harder than before, pulling you into his lips in a passionate kiss that was wet from tears. Your lips moved in perfect sync with his, and you knew that your speech had worked when he wrapped his legs around your waist to help him flip positions, his hands tangling in your hair. He pulled back and gazed at you a second but before he could kiss you again you tugged him forward and ran your lips all over his face. You placed small pecks on his cheekbones, his temples, his eyebrows, his nose, and his chin. He was stunned, and his breathing had increased tremendously.
“I fucking love YOU, Kyle.” You breathed, putting emphasis on the word.
He rubbed his nose against yours and paused, because he truly believed it now. Then he leaned in slowly while you pushed up forcefully, catching in a heated kiss. One hand cupped your cheek and stroked your face with his thumb and the other hand wandered down and up your cropped hoodie. You wrapped your hands around his neck and arched into him, like a piece of a puzzle fitting into the the uncompleted masterpiece.
And you both showed how much you meant to one another.