Bradley Simpson Imagines

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"Why are you upset?" Your best friend asks through the phone as you play with the edge of Brad's hoodie you were wearing.

"I... I don't know. I'm probably just overreacting."

"Y/N... what's bothering you?"

"It's just.." You sigh heavily. "We.. we finally got— intimate—" you're cut off when you hear screaming on the other end. "AND,"

"And what!?" She squealed, you could practically hear her bouncing on the other end of the call.

"He got up afterwards, grabbed his phone, and called someone... for like half an hour."

The line goes silent, your friend being speechless, not expecting that answer.

"Y/N—"

"It's fine. I'm.... I'm almost over it, I just.." A sob carries its way through your body, your eyes shutting tightly. "It was my first time and he was so gentle, and caring, and then he just.."

"I'm on my way over, hold on."

————

You were curled up, asleep, on your friends shoulder when Brad made his way into you apartment with the spare key you'd given him.

Walking into the living space he pauses, not expecting the extra body.

"Y/F/N, what're you..—"

"You may as well leave the key you have here." She cuts to the chase, glaring at him, beckoning him to dare step another foot.

"What? I—"

"Really Brad? A phone call?"

His face changes quickly to realization, dropping his head.

"A fucking phone call." She hisses quietly, hoping not to wake you so you don't have to face him. "She literally gave herself to you and the best you can do afterwards is take your phone out and call someone."

"Y/F/N— I have a reason—"

"You'd fucking better." She seethes, pulling you slightly closer to her as you move around a bit. "You do realize how she felt right? How she still feels?"

"We weren't even supposed to have sex!" He throws his hands up. "It was unplanned, that phone call was planned!"

"Brad— shut up, you're going to wake her."

"Y/F/N, I'm planning on taking her to DisneyLand. That was the travel agency calling and letting me know about the flights."

"You're taking her to DisneyLand?" She asks quietly, almost embarrassed that she had flipped out on him.

"Yes. And I was planning on telling her today, after we went out for dinner."

"Fuck, Brad, I—"

"I know how it looked." He cuts her off. "Fuck, I wish I could change that. But I promise you, tonight, everything will be fine. But, we need to get ready for dinner now.."

"I'll go," she hums, getting out from underneath you slowly, watching as your brows scrunch together and your eyes open slightly.

"Y/F/N? Where are you—" your eyes find Brad, looking at you sheepishly.

"Hey Baby," he smiles. "Dinner date?"