Nice Guy {Kyle Broflovski x Reader}

Part 2

Unlocking the front door of the house and walking in was a breath of fresh air. The warmth of your home drawing you in. Quickly shutting and locking the door before hanging your stuff up. You lazily walk into the kitchen grabbing a cup of water before turning on your phone.

Notifications

Mom- How was the date?

Craiglist- Sorry, Tweek was freaking out and wanted to be alone.

Stan- Riding with Kyle wasn't that bad huh?

It was already 11 at night so you quickly text your mom.

Mom- How was the date?

You- Craig scared them again

Mom- Wasn't meant to be then. Craig has good judgement. You'll find someone. I got to go to bed though. Goodnight

You- Yeah he does have good judgement, luv u. night

With Craig's message you just sent him a middle finger and opened Stan's text.

Stan- Riding with Kyle wasn't that bad huh?

You- He told me guys only wanted me for my body.

Stan- ...Yeah he told me. He feels bad. He knows you're sensitive about that

You- yet he still said that. I don't get why you guys try to get me and him to be friends. Just stop

Stan- Sorry

With that you turned off your phone and opened your fridge. After you moved some things around you found what you were looking for, beer. Perfect thing after a horrible day. Grabbing the beer and popping of the cap. Slowing walking into the living room and plopping down on the couch.

One beer turned into two and then two turned into twenty.

Currently it was 2 in the morning and you were watching your phone in anticipation at the dialing number. A number you only had because of a random groupchat.

A gruff voice picked up and spoke out tiredly, "What?"

"Fuck you."

"Huh? Your the one that called me," he grumbled.

"Fuck you dude," you slurred.

Now seemingly more aware he asked, "Are you fucking drunk?"

"No," you hiccuped, "Why do you ask?"

"You are definitely drunk," hearing shuffling from his side of the phone you let out random murmurs. "Why'd you call and say fuck you?"

"Cause, fuck you," you snickered.

"Y/n."

Sighing you decided to tell the truth, "your an ass. Make me feel bad and shit. j-just tryna be myself and you fuck with the vibe. Everyone! Everyone agrees too. Your supposed to be the sense-able one."

"Dude your wasted."

"A-m not."

"I'm not trying to be an ass, you just poke buttons like Cartman," he sighed.

"I think I poke buttons like you. We have so much in common, but you're just stubborn," you pout.

"Says you. Literally refusing to admit you're drunk. Turn on your camera and prove it."

After hearing his challenge, you looked around your living room. Eyes mainly focusing on the coffee table covered in empty beer bottles. Looking to your side you picked up a random blanket and threw it onto the bottles to 'cover them up' which caused several bottles to fall over. He laughed as you let out random swears and rearranging the blanket to cover them. After covering them fulling you laid back down on the couch and cozied into a blanket before turning your camera on. At the sight of your face the boy turned his camera on as well.