Kimberly 🫶

After a long day like this, there’s nothing more he wants than to just be close to you. Your cheek rests against his bare chest and the warmth bleeds into him. He leans down to breathe in the scent of your hair. Tilting your head up, you lazily press your lips against his neck and jaw. You make your way up to his lips. He hums and kisses you back slowly. 

“Missed you," you mumble against his lips, shamelessly letting your hand run over his chest and abs.

He lets out a soft sigh at the feeling of your warm hand traveling over him. Usually, he’d be the one to wake up in the middle of the night feeling needy (it’s happened before), but you were especially missing him all day today. You push your tongue past his lips and lazily let it slide against his own. His hand squeezes your waist, but you suddenly pull away, to which he chases your mouth. You sit up against the headboard, definitely awake now. He gazes up at you in confusion, his white brows furrowing and his pink lips, now glistening from saliva, in a slight pout.

“Hey…” he whines, moving to rest his head in your lap.

You chuckle and run your fingers through his hair. “How was today?”

“Tiring, like always," he sighs.

“Do you want to sleep…”

“Of course—" He shudders as he feels your hand trailing down his abs and stopping right at the waistband of his boxers where a sliver of white hair peeks out.

“Or are you up to it?” you whisper, letting your hand graze over his hardening boxer-clad length.

“Missed me that much?” He huffs with a slight grin, ever so arrogant.

“Looks like you are," you crowed, giving his hair a tug with your other hand, to which he promptly let out a whimper. 

Even if he was usually in charge, he always liked it when you got rough, whether it was tugging at his hair while he ate you out or clawing at his back as he thrust deep into you. You tug down his boxers just enough to let his length spring out, and he sighs at the relief of pressure. You wrap your hand around the base, and he leans his head back with a groan.

“Let me do it tonight… I know you’ve had a long day," you coo, stroking his cock with an agonizingly slow pace.

“I didn’t even think you’d be awake—Oh." He groans as your thumb swipes over his leaky, pink tip.

You continue at your slow pace until his hips are bucking up into your hand. Only then do you begin to stroke slightly faster than before, but it still isn’t enough to give him relief. You know he’s especially sensitive since he isn’t wearing his blindfold, letting him experience all of his senses much more intensely.

“C’mon, y-you’re doing that on purpose," he pants, now trying to keep his hips still as if it’d sway you to stop teasing him.

“Doing what?” You feign obliviousness and move your hand to wrap around his tip.

You keep your strokes confined to his leaking tip, smearing the pre over it and your hand. The wet squelches are filthy and amplified in the quietness of the night. Just the sight of him being desperate but trying to act like he’s not is enough to have you feeling that familiar warmth creep up your neck and down in your abdomen.

He moans and buries his face into your chest. “Fuck, baby…”

His groans are muffled into your chest as you continue to focus on his tip before finally moving your hand down to the rest of his neglected length. You set a steady pace now and bite your lip at the moans you’re pulling out of him until he pushes a hand underneath your sleep shirt. You gasp as he pushes your top up to expose your bare chest and nipples. He reaches out and grabs your breast, kneading the soft flesh and letting his thumb brush over your nipple. 

You weren’t expecting him to do this, but then again he always had a thing for tits. He was always fondling them when spooning or pinching your nipples when he was sitting behind you and fingering you while watching a movie or sucking on them when he fucked you in missionary. As if on cue, he circled your other nipple with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it all while you continued to pump your hand around his cock.

“Fuck, look at you. Good boy," you pant as the sounds of the wet squelching of precum around his cock fill the room.

His hips buck up in response, and even more pre leaks out of his pink tip. He whimpers around your nipple, and the vibration goes straight to your pulsing cunt. He always loved getting praised. Sometimes you thought he did certain things just to hear you tell him he did a good job, but he especially loved it during sex. You stroked him faster and let your thumb focus on his leaking tip. Every pass of your thumb had him groaning and whimpering against your nipple and pinching the other one. You were letting out your own whimpers at that.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby.” You nod as you continue to pump his cock.

You could tell he was getting close from the way his hips were bucking into your fist and how his sucking became more like drooling around your nipple. 

“Mm- Fuck— ‘m gonna cum. Please, baby,” he whimpers against your breast.

He couldn’t help the way he was thrusting into your fist now. His hand on your chest left to grip your bicep as he looked up at your face with his mouth still smushed against your tit. 

“Yeah? Cum for me," you say, gazing into his eyes as you squeeze his cock tighter and continue at your pace. 

He groans and his blue eyes slightly roll back as his hips twitch into your hand. Ropes of white spurt out against your hand and against his abs and chest. You slow your strokes to let him ride out his orgasm. He pants as he lets his head fall back into your lap, thinking it’s over. 

Suddenly, your hand begins stroking his sensitive tip again and smearing his cum. 

“W-wait, fuck! I just—hah!" he huffs, gripping the sheets beneath him and your arm.

His hips are squirming from the overwhelming pleasure, nearly ticklish feeling, he’s experiencing at your hands. He lets out a small laugh at the sensation of it all, and his lack of blindfold is making him feel it tenfold. Despite his reactions, you don’t stop. Seeing him flushed all the way from the tips of his ears to his blushing tip sends a thrill through you. The strongest was at your hands, whimpering and letting you fuck him into hypersensitivity. As you continue to torment his oversensitive cock, you can see drool dripping down the side of his face and tears beginning to well up in his eyes. 

“Please! I’m sorry— sh-shit!— pleasepleaseplease-” he’s babbling from the overwhelming sensations assaulting his nerves.

He doesn’t even know what he would be sorry for, but he’s trying to appease you to get any sort of relief from your hand, yet at the same time he’s begging and he doesn’t even know whether it’s for you to stop or keep going. Once you see his tears spill over, you decide to relent and slow your hand to a stop. He lays limp in your lap, panting and shuddering.

“You okay, Toru?” you chuckle, feeling no remorse at all. It was payback for all the times he had teased you until you couldn’t take it.

“You’re so mean…” he wheezes. He pouts at the fact you clearly don’t feel bad and a little at the fact you stopped.

Satoru Gojo had never looked prettier than when he was all fucked out: his face flushed, tears streaking his face, drool on his cheek, and lips pouting. You smile and wipe the tears with your thumb before leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose, and then his cheeks, and then finally his lips.

While you're washing the dishes, you don't hear Henry coming out of his office and down to the kitchen. The sound of the water running drowns out his footsteps and he creeps up behind you, but his footsteps were always oddly quiet. You don't realize he's there until he's right behind you with his hands settling on your waist. You gasp and nearly drop the bowl you're washing but relax as soon as you realize it's him.

"I thought I told you to stop sneaking up on me." you said with a chuckle.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Just wanted to see what you're up to." he says with a slightly smug tone, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

"I'm making brownies." you say as you continue to rinse the dishes.

"I know. Smells nice." he says, but it's slightly muffled as he presses a kiss to your temple.

Taking a hand off your waist, he pulls the knot of your apron loose. He gently pulls it off of you and sets it on the counter next to the sink, but then his hands are right back on your waist.

"You look nice in this dress." he says.

"Of course you think that." you say with a smile. He was the one who bought it for you after all.

He hums in acknowledgement and presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck causing you to shiver. He always relished in your reactions. He continued to kiss along your neck, moving up to your cheek. You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder.

"Henry-" he cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours.

It's soft and tentative at first, but once you pull away to turn around and face him, his lips are back on yours with more conviction. Your lower back is pressed against the counter as his hands feel along your back and waist. Your hands move to rest on the side of his neck and run through his blonde hair, tugging the hair at the base of his neck. He lets out a quiet groan and tightens his grip on your waist. You deepen the kiss and slip your tongue into his mouth. Both of you are chest to chest and trying to get impossibly closer. He's tugging you closer by your waist and you're pushing his mouth closer to yours.

Both of you pull away while breathing heavily. You walk him back towards the kitchen island while kissing along his neck which earns a few pleasurable sighs from him. Your hands move to unbutton his shirt and his hands begin to wander. He grips your hips and a hand settles onto your lower back.

"My dress... Unzip it." you say while panting slightly.

"No. Keep it on." he says with a hint of possessiveness.

He suddenly flips you around and hoists you up onto the counter of the island by the backs of your thighs causing you to let out a surprised gasp. He steps between your legs and kisses your jaw while he pushes up your dress. He could already feel his own arousal growing as a bulge started to form under his pants. His hand finds the dampness on your underwear causing you so shudder and let out a small whimper. He cups your mound and presses his fingers against the growing wet spot, gently prodding at your clothed slit.

"Henry, please-" you pant out, canting your hips and chasing the feeling of his palm just shy of giving you the friction you need.

"Shh... just let me take care of you, sweetheart." he shushed you with his voice low in your ear. He presses feather light kissing against your ear making you squirm.

He pulls your panties to the side and swipes his index and middle finger through your folds to gather your slick onto them. He pulls them away causing you to whine at the loss of touch and roll your hips against nothing.

There's a wet sheen over them and he says, "Open your mouth." to which you comply.

Your tongue swirls around his fingers, licking your own essence clean off of them. You stare up at him and a whimper leaves your throat as you see his slightly flushed expression.

"That's it... Good girl." he praises softly as he removes his fingers from your lips.

His expression was level as always, but his eyes were trained on you as if you were all he could see. The slight furrow in his brows and his parted lips gave way to the neediness under his usual composure. Although he craved control, pleasing you overtook that priority. His fingers found their way back to your heat and his thumb started to rub slow circles against your clit. You let out a soft moan and grabbed onto his shoulder. His other hand stayed on the small of your back while his two fingers move to your entrance, slipping in without much resistance from your saliva as well as your arousal. He pushes in until only his knuckles are visible. He looks down at your face to watch your expression.

"You're okay?" he asks with a softness he'd never give to anyone else, keeping his hand still to let you get used to the feeling. He would always check in, even if you had done this countless times before.

"Yeah..." you nod quickly.

His stilled hand began to move, his thumb rubbing slow circles again and his other fingers starting to curl inside of you while lazily thrusting. He kisses and nips at your throat hard enough to leave small marks. You start to roll your hips against his fingers, seeking more friction.

"Henry..." you whine in frustration as his pace stayed the same.

"Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what you want." he says in an encouraging tone but it had mocking undertones. You knew he was doing it on purpose just to tease you.

"Faster, please." you say breathlessly.

"Good girl. Not so hard, is it?" he asks mockingly with a smug chuckle.

You moan at the praise and his hand started to move faster. His thumb started to rub against your clit more firmly and his fingers thrusted into you with purpose. He curled his fingers right to that spot that had you mewling. He could feel you started to clench around him and he knew you were close. His hand on your back moved to the back of your head, gripping the hair at the back of your neck and forcing you to look up at him. You yelp in surprise but meet his gaze.

"I want to see your face when I make you cum. Look at me." he says breathlessly. His ears were flushed and his brows were furrowed is desperation.

He was utterly focused onto you. The look of hunger on his face and the bulge rubbing against your thigh. He looked at your blissed out face: furrowed brows, jaw slack, and eyes meeting his. You could feel the knot in your abdomen getting tighter as you desperately chased after the friction. He was panting and nodding. He lets out small whimpers, just as desparate for your release as you are.

"Yeah, that's it, sweetheart. Cum for me." he says almost with a desperate tone and you can feel his bulge twitch against your thigh.

"Oh, fuck, Henry!" you moan, clenching around his fingers and back arching towards him.

His hand is still gripping your hair, forcing you to look at him while you finish. He lets out a groan just at the sight of you and rubs his bulge against your thigh without even realizing. He could've came just from this but he held back.

"You're so beautiful..." he says while studying your expression, as if he was relishing in the pleasure he brings you.

His hand loosens his grip on your hair but stays there as he helps you ride out your orgasm, ever so slowly curling his fingers. He withdraws his fingers causing you to shudder. The two fingers are connected by a sticky web of your release. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean, groaning at the taste. Before you could even react, leans in to kiss you and pushes your face towards his. The kiss is all tongue and teeth as he nips at your bottom lip. You let out small whimpers into his mouth from the sensitivity you're still experiencing. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

"You taste so good." he groans against your mouth.

Despite your blissed out state, you could feel him pressed up against your inner thigh and move your hand to palm him over his pants. He whimpers your name at the touch and bucks into your hand to chase the friction. As you pull away from the kiss, he chases your lips before resting his forehead against your shoulder. He places his hand over yours causing it to press against him firmly.

He starts to press wet kisses against your neck while mumbling, "Please, I can't wait any longer. I want to feel you."

You respond by hastily unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. You tug down his boxers enough to free his aching cock. The tip was flushed and leaking pre. He pulls away from your neck and sighs at the slight release of pressure. You move your hand to put it out in front of his mouth and look at him expectantly. You smile in satisfaction as he spits into the palm of your hand. You use his saliva and start to slowly pump and coat his length. He shudders and moans your name breathlessly. You guide him to your entrance and he places his hands on your hips.

He rubs his aching length through your wet folds causing his tip to catch against your clit. You shudder and dig your nails into his shoulder. He finally pushes into you slowly but his grip tightens as if he's trying to hold back. He watches himself disappear into your heat. He moans and looks at your face as he bottoms out.

"You feel so good, sweetheart..." he breathes out before starting to slowly roll his hips.

He moves slowly to let you get used to the feeling. His breath hitches as the feeling of your heat wrapped around him. His grip on your waist is almost bruising as he tries not to lose his composure.

"Can I move faster? Please?" he whines while still lazily rolling his hips against yours.

You nod and that was all the confirmation he needed. He starts to rut into you and watches your reactions: the way you gasp and moan, the way your chest heaves in the dress he bought you, the way your hands grasp his shoulders, the way you clench around him.

"You sound so pretty..." he pants out as he moves a hand to your core to rub his thumb against your clit, extracting a louder moan from you.

"Oh, God- please don't stop." you moan as you feel yourself approaching your second orgasm.

"I want to feel you cum on my cock. Cum with me, sweetheart." he says as his thrusts get sloppier. He slams into you as if he can't think of anything else besides the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him and making the filthiest squelches.

He can feel you clenching around him and he knows you won't last much longer. His thumb moves firmer and his thrusts get more aggressive.

"Henry, I'm-" you cry out as you feel the heat growing in your abdomen and wrap your arms around his neck.

"Yeah? I am too, sweetheart!-" he groans in a strained voice as he feels your orgasm crash over you and your legs lock together on his lower back. Your nails dig into his shoulders as your thighs tremble around his waist.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful." he moans as he continues to rut into your overstimulated and pulsing heat. He buries himself fully inside of you before cumming with a groan, dropping his forehead against yours.

Both of you are left breathing heavily with your foreheads pressed together. You can still feel him twitching inside of you with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His face is flushed as he stands over you with your breaths mingling and he presses a soft kiss against your lips.

"Are you okay?" he murmurs against your lips.

"More than okay." you laugh.

He pulls out of you causing you to shudder. He fixes your underwear back into place.

"But you-" you start.

"I know." he replies in a smug tone.

Both of you flinch at the sound of a timer going off. You relax once you realize it's just for the brownies.

"Brownies are done." you say with a tired smile.

He grins slightly as he moved to turn the alarm and the oven off. He quickly turns his attention back to you.

"They can wait. Let's get cleaned up, yeah?" he says while pressing a kiss to your temple before hooking his arm underneath your knees and around your waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the bathroom.

“Do you want to get ready for bed?” he asked, disrupting the silence. You nodded, adjusting the grip on the overnight bag you had stopped by your car to grab on the way upstairs. 

“I’ll wait out here. Take all the time you need, okay?” 

It was silly, but the words made you want to cry. Bradley was the best man you had ever known. He deserved so much better than this. 

You forced another nod and a small quirk of your lips and took a step in the direction of the hallway. You hadn’t gotten far when you stopped, spinning on your heel to go back to him. You could see the question on his face but before he could voice it, you raised on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. You gave him another smile before retreating to his bathroom. 

After you had taken your makeup off and changed your clothes, you stared at yourself in the mirror. There was a bitter taste in your mouth that you couldn’t get to go away. 

The night had started so wonderfully, just like you knew it would. You had been looking forward to seeing Bradley all week after the beach date on Monday. You had been slightly surprised when he asked you to go to the Hard Deck, but hadn’t hesitated in agreeing. Sure, you were anxious to remeet all of his friends, knowing how important they were to him. But he hadn’t been lying when he said none of them held ill will toward you from your breakup. After shaking off the initial nerves, you were having so much fun drinking and hanging out with them with Bradley at your side. You were so happy and you knew the night would only get better when it was just the two of you later on. 

And then Paul had just…appeared. Again. You had told Nat you would wait in line at the bar while she washed her hands in the bathroom, and suddenly there he was, pouncing during the one moment you were alone. His voice rang like an alarm in your head as he talked about buying you a drink and taking you out for dinner, like the events of the week of you throwing his flowers out and reporting him to HR - again - hadn’t even happened. He had grabbed onto your arm so tightly and started pulling you along with him before you could even fathom a response. Then Natasha had showed up and pushed him away, immediately going off about respect and personal space. 

And then Bradley was there, arriving in the midst of your shock, making you feel safe despite it all. 

You had tried so hard not to let it ruin the night. You thought going back to all of Bradley’s friends and pretending that nothing happened would make you feel better, but the interaction stayed there in the back of your mind. 

It was hard for you to really tell what you were feeling now that a few hours had passed. You were upset at the whole situation, certainly. You were angry that he wouldn’t leave you alone and that he had picked you to have this stupid crush on. More than that, though, you were embarrassed, both at the fact that it had happened for everyone to witness and that you were letting it affect you so much. 

Paul was persistent and he was a creep, but did he really pose that much of a threat? When you had met with your manager a few days prior, she had echoed the same sentiment, saying that some men just couldn’t take a hint, and maybe you should be flattered that he’s paying you this much attention.

“It’s certainly not as big of a deal as you’re making it,” she had said with a roll of her eyes.

You tried all week to convince yourself that she was right, but you couldn’t. If you were honest with yourself, you were starting to get scared that this just kept happening. Especially now, when all you wanted was this second chance with Bradley to work out. 

Instead, you felt like a burden. It was why you had suggested you return to your own home tonight. You didn’t want to be too much for him, particularly not this early on, when you were both still figuring out how this was going to work. 

But one look at his expressive dark eyes and you were getting out of the car with him. 

With a shuddering breath, you finished up in the bathroom. You could hear the soft sounds of the tv on in the background from the living room when you stepped out. When you rounded the corner, you could see Bradley sitting on the couch. He had stripped out of the Hawaiian shirt and jeans into a pair of sweatpants and his undershirt. He looked up when you walked into the room, offering you one of those small smiles that made you feel warm inside. Without saying anything, he raised his arm, inviting you to sit with him. 

When you settled into his side, he pulled down the afghan on the back of the couch to drape over both of you. For a few minutes, you watched the cooking competition show that he had turned on. You could almost pretend that it was just a normal night of winding down together. But you could feel how Bradley was sitting stiffer than usual, and how his fingers kept flexing around the remote in his lap. You knew it was inevitable, and in the next commercial break, the need to say something had finally won out. 

“How did he know where we were tonight?” 

Your eyes squeezed shut at the question. He had asked it in a regular tone, if anything quieter than was normal for him, but it might as well have been screamed at you with how loud it rang in your head. You hadn’t let yourself consider that particular question, pushing it as far down as you could. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered in response. You were so quiet that for a second you hoped that whatever ad was playing through the speakers would mask the sound of your voice. But you knew he heard you by how he raised the remote to mute the tv. You sat in silence, and you felt worse with every passing second. 

“I’m sorry if I derailed our night,” you finally said, unable to stand it anymore. Bradley shifted so that you weren’t leaning against him anymore, sitting beside you and turning your face to his with a gentle hand so he could meet your eyes. 

“You didn’t derail anything,” he insisted, and you could tell he meant it. Still, you felt the guilt swelling. He let out a long sigh, the frustration in it evident and painted all over his face. “I just…fuck, Bug. I don’t understand.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip and snapped the hair tie on your wrist as you contemplated your response. You didn’t understand either, and you wished you did. “I’m not sure what else to do,” you admitted quietly. 

“Call off work on Monday,” he said immediately, like it was something he had been thinking about before you posed the question. “Or quit, even.”

You sighed. You wanted to. You did. But you knew you couldn’t - it wasn’t realistic. You had rent and bills and while you had some savings, it wouldn’t sustain you forever. “I can’t do that, B. I can’t let him and his stupid creepy crush start impacting me more than it already has. That’s my job.”

Bradley spoke your name as he shook his head. “This isn’t just a stupid creepy crush anymore.”

“I know that!” 

You didn’t mean to snap at him, but the words came out sharp anyway. You felt jittery all of a sudden and so you took a deep breath and threw the blanket off of you, standing from the couch. To his credit, Bradley didn’t try to stop you as you walked the few paces to the kitchen. You poured yourself some water to try and cool yourself down, but when you tried to bring it to your lips to drink it, your hand shook. The glass thudded against the countertop when you set it down with more force than necessary. Frustrated tears filled your eyes and when one escaped, you wiped it away harshly. 

After giving you a moment to breathe, Bradley followed to your side. You were leaning against the counter with your head in your hands when he rested a big hand on your back. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said gently, rubbing his palm up and down your spine. His touch was always so soothing to you and left you feeling warm.

“I know. You didn’t,” you assured him, turning your head to look at him. 

“We promised we’d do better at talking, and being honest with how we were feeling,” he reminded you, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at where he was going with this. “Right now I feel like there’s someone who is unhealthily obsessed with my girl, and she thinks it’s her fault, or that she’s ruining things, but she’s not.”

You wanted to deny it, to tell him he was wrong. But you knew that you couldn’t. He had voiced exactly what was going through your head. 

“I don’t want to be too much for you,” you admitted quietly. Bradley opened his mouth to respond, already shaking his head, but you held up a hand to stop him. You swallowed the lump in your throat and exhaled deeply. “I want this to work. So badly. And it’s not fair that this is something we have to be worried about - that you have to be worried about. Because I am, B. I’m worried. And I’m scared.” 

Your voice cracked as you finally said it out loud, and it seemed that once you started, you couldn’t stop. “I don’t want this attention from him. But until I find another job there’s nothing else that I can do. I’ve done everything I can think of. I’ve told him to stop, I’ve reported him at work. And it’s not like he’s made any real threats, so I can’t even go to the cops. Him showing up at the same bar won't be enough. They’ll mark it off as a coincidence, even if deep down I know it’s not. So I have no choice but to deal with this.”

“I know. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like you aren’t,” he sighed. “I want this to work, too, Bug. And it will. I can’t…I can’t explain how strong my feelings are for you - how I need to protect you. So it’s hard for me, too, that I can’t do anything. I know you’re doing everything you can. But you don’t have to do it alone, okay? I’m here. For whatever you need.”  

His gaze was so full of tenderness and understanding, it made you want to cry for a whole new reason. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes by the time he finished. He wanted this to work, and was so sure that it would. He wanted to protect you - needed to, apparently. And you wanted that too. But god, you wished he didn’t have to. 

“A hug would be a nice start,” you decided, and your boyfriend didn’t hesitate to draw you into his arms. You buried your face in his chest and held onto him as you mumbled into his shirt. “And I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I want to focus on us.” 

He kissed the top of your head, squeezing you tightly. “Okay.” 

____

You spent the next hour or so cuddled up on the couch, just like you wanted. When your eyes started closing longer and longer during blinks, Bradley chuckled softly and clicked the tv off, shuffling you both back to his bedroom. It took your tired, heavy eyes a moment to register what was in front of you but when they did, a quiet gasp escaped.

“You kept it?” you asked softly. You looked across the bed at Bradley to see his face pink as he pulled down the covers. 

“Kept it in with the rest of my spare sheets,” he responded with a shrug, and you knew he was trying to play it off as no big deal, but to you, it meant everything. 

Warmth filled you as your fingertips touched the soft, silk material of your pillowcase. You had made a passing comment once early on in your relationship about how you preferred this material to rest your head on and Bradley had surprised you with an exact match to the one you kept on your bed at home the next time you stayed over. You had never expected him to keep it once you broke up. 

Climbing into the bed, you bypassed your side completely. Bradley huffed out a sound of surprise as you straddled his lower abdomen, but as you leant down to kiss him, it turned into something more pleasant and eager.   

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you murmured against his lips. He squeezed your thighs in his big hands as he kissed you back. 

“Took the words right out of my mouth, baby,” he whispered back. You hummed happily in response, tasting his lips again. It wasn’t long before he was rolling you onto your back so he could hover over you instead, never once breaking the kiss. 

Suddenly, you weren’t feeling all that tired at all. 

_____

You were glad when the weekend passed without further incident. You didn’t talk about Paul again, and you did your very best not to think about how the weekend had started. Instead, you slept in on Saturday morning and woke up in Bradley’s arms, followed by a day of doing little more than just being together before he surprised you by taking you out. You had figured you would be staying inside of his apartment all weekend, and when you voiced as much, he gave you a soft look filled with so much sincerity it nearly took your breath away.

“I want to take you out,” he said as he trailed the back of his finger down your cheek. “Let me?”

He knew how much you didn’t want your relationship to change because of what you were dealing with. So you knew what he was really asking. Let me give this to you. Let me keep you safe - don’t be scared with me. Be with me.

So you spent Saturday night out, first at dinner and then at a karaoke bar, laughing at off key renditions of 90s pop and ballads from the early 2000s. When you got back to his apartment, you sat on the counter as he stood between your legs, sharing a drive thru milkshake that had quickly been abandoned in favor of tasting one another. You went to bed with a smile on your face, his body wrapped around yours, feeling safe and warm. 

Bradley didn’t bring up you calling out of work on Monday again, though you could tell as he bid you goodbye on Sunday night that he was reluctant to let you go for reasons more than just missing you.  

“You can stay another night,” he murmured against your mouth. His body was flush against yours, pressing you into the side of your car in his complex parking lot. He nipped at your bottom lip as you hummed in pleasure. “Or I can come stay with you.”

“Traffic is terrible in the mornings between our places,” you replied distractedly, raking your fingernails down his back as he kissed your jaw. “And work is in the opposite direction for both of us.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he insisted, “I’d do it.” 

You whimpered and drew his lips back to yours, losing yourself for another few minutes in the feel of him, his tongue tangled with yours and his large body surrounding you where you stood. 

The kiss slowed gradually, both of you reluctant for it to end but knowing that it had to. You breathed in deeply once you settled back onto your feet. His dark eyes were almost pleading as they stared into yours.

“I’ll text you when I get home?” you asked quietly. You toyed with the hem of his white t-shirt. 

Bradley sighed, his eyes closing momentarily, and you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. You tightened your arms around him and let your forehead fall to rest on his chest. His chin rested on your head and you stood there for a long moment. When the orange and pinks in the sky started turning more purple and inky blue, you knew you had to pull yourself away, whether you liked it or not. 

Lifting your head, you looked up at him, smiling softly. “I had an amazing weekend, B.” 

He leant down to capture your lips in one more kiss. “Me too, Bug.” 

When you got home nearly thirty minutes later, you wondered why you hadn’t just agreed to stay. You locked your front door and flipped on the light and couldn’t help but sigh as you took in your small living room. It was just as you had left it on Friday morning before you went to work, not that you had expected any different. But looking around, you couldn’t help but admit that it felt…different. Truthfully, it had for a while now. You weren’t sure when it started, but this little house that you loved so much didn’t feel as much like home as it had in the last two years you had lived here. You had tried to push away the feeling, but it gnawed at you now. 

If you were honest with yourself, the most at home you had felt in this space you had crafted so carefully was when Bradley had been here with you. Briefly, you wondered what it would be like if you never had to say goodbye to him like earlier. You only let yourself consider the thought for a second being pushing it away - it was too early to think about that. There was too much going on. 

You groaned out loud, dramatic and drawn out, pushing yourself off the door. You grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen before making your way into your bedroom to start getting ready for bed. It wasn’t late, but your bed was calling your name, and you’d rather curl up underneath the weighted blankets with your tv on as you texted your boyfriend than try and do anything productive tonight. 

Why had you been so insistent on coming home again? 

You jumped when a movement behind you in the bathroom mirror caught your attention while you were brushing your teeth a little bit later. You breathed out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just your gauzy curtains rustling as a breeze floated in the window. But then you cursed when you realized the latch must have shifted sometime during the weekend. It was barely cracked, hardly enough even for the wind to get in, but you still hurried over to slam it down and lock it again. It had been giving you trouble since the moment you moved in and your landlord had been insistent that you just weren’t locking it properly, though you knew he just didn’t want to pay for a replacement. 

“Cheap bastard,” you muttered around your toothbrush. 

You unlocked your phone once you were safely burrowed amongst your pillows, Dateline playing in the background. You smiled when you saw Bradley had texted you already, asking if you had gotten home okay. 

You snapped a quick selfie and sent it back in response. The three dots appeared immediately and it made your heart flutter knowing that he must have been waiting for you to respond, even if he had sent the message five minutes ago. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: Damn. Can’t believe I’m jealous of your pillows right now. 

The bubble popped up again before you had a chance to type out a response, and when you saw the selfie he had sent you back, you squealed in pure delight. He was in his own bed, chest bare with one arm folded under his head. When you looked closely though, it was your pillow he was resting on. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: I’ll keep this warm for you until you come back. Miss you already❤️

---------------

Part Seven :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I just want to give Bug a hug. Girlfriend is so hard on herself. I hope you enjoyed this little bit of fluff! I'd probably not get used to it.

Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement for posting more🖤

Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @bradshawburner @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl

“Oh,” She said softly, “I see…well, maybe it isn’t as bad as you think.”

“Mommy, I think I started to have feelings for him,” You admit, feeling your stomach twist, “And I feel like I’m cheating on Kurtis because I have feelings for another man, his best friend nonetheless and I feel like it just makes me a horrible person.”

“Oh honey, you’re allowed to move on.Kurtis wouldn’t want you to be alone forever. Maybe he would be glad it’s Rooster, out of anyone else, because he’d know him well enough to know that he would take care of you.”

“He made Rooster promise to take care of me,” You informed her, “And I took advantage of how we were feeling, how vulnerable we both were. God, he’ll never forgive me.”

“Maybe he’s just as confused as you are, sweetheart,” She suggests, “Maybe he needs space to figure it out, just like you do.”

It was another week before you got the courage to try to call Rooster. It went right to voicemail, like he declined your call. It makes you cry, thinking that you lost him too. You beg for him to call you back in the voicemail and apologize for ruining everything.

He doesn’t answer your call, or your texts. You go as far as texting one of the other members of the squadron to make sure he’s okay, at the very least. You’re told that he’s fine, just busy with training and to let up on calling and texting all of the time.

You feel your heart drop a little. He really doesn’t want to talk to you, or even see you. One night ruined everything. You hated it, because it was an amazing night, you didn’t want to regret it. You were tried of regretting things. But if that one amazing night cost you Rooster, how could you not regret it?  

You try to go about your days as normal, working and coming home to an empty house. You even look at dogs, but none of them seem to speak to you. None of them felt right to you, like you didn’t have a connection with them. You feel broken again, like a giant piece of you is missing. 

In a way, a big part of you is missing. Because Rooster became a big part of your life, a very normal part. You got too used to him being around and being in your house. Too used to him always being there with you. Too used to him holding you at night. 

You’re back to having a mountain of pillows again to try to make the bed feel less empty. You went as far as ordering a weighted blanket to try to help. You were willing to try anything, as long as it meant you could sleep again. Because sleep was avoiding you once more. 

You’re in the middle of cleaning a week later when you realized your period was late. Well, even later than it had been in the last few months. Your stomach churned at the thought. There was a whole stockpile of pregnancy tests in the cabinet underneath your sink in the bathroom, but the thought of taking one now….you couldn’t.

You couldn’t possibly be pregnant from one single night with Rooster. The universe couldn’t be that cruel to you, surely. There had to be some other reason that you’re extra late, the stress maybe? The fact you haven’t been eating a lot? 

Your mind is spinning with possibilities. So many of them it makes you dizzy. Surely you aren’t pregnant though, it’s got to be a fluke, some sort of coincidence. 

Your front door opening makes you pause, your body shaking like a leaf. 

“Hey, it’s me,” Rooster calls from the entryway, “Can I come in?”

When you can’t bring yourself to respond you hear the sound of footsteps getting closer. Rooster takes in the way you look, white as a sheet, shaking in the middle of your living room. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that you’d seen a ghost. It worries him. 

He came here to apologize for being so distant and explain himself. He came here to put himself out here, lay everything out on the table. Strip himself bare and let you know how he really felt, but now all he can do is rush forward and wrap you in his arms.

Tears burst from your eyes before you can even catch up with what’s happening. He strokes your back, shushing you gently. You clutch onto him, needing him to keep you grounded. You’re terrified, absolutely terrified. How would he react to what you have to tell him? How would he react to knowing he could be a father?

“What’s wrong,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head, “Talk to me.”

“You left,” You sob, “My period is late.”

He tenses, “How late?”

“Late enough,” Is all you can manage in response.

He swallows thickly, “Have you taken a test?”

You shake your head. You couldn’t take one all alone. The thought of what the results could be….no way you could’ve handled that without anyone here with you. There wasn’t anyone you could call to sit with you either, there was only Rooster. And until this moment, he was awol. 

“Do you have any tests?” He questions, brows furrowed. 

You nod slowly. 

“Okay, c’mon, you need to take one. We can figure out what to do once we know,” He tells you softly, pulling you towards your bedroom. 

“I’m scared,” Your voice is so soft he almost doesn’t hear you, “Will you stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” He doesn’t know if you mean just for this moment, or forever, but either way, he didn’t want to leave you. 

His chest ached during the time he was away from you. He felt like he was missing a part of him. And the thought tore him up, because he felt like he was betraying his best friend. Kurtis made Rooster promise that he would look after you, not that he would fall in love with you. 

“How long do we have to wait?” He asks you softly, scared to speak any higher than a whisper. 

“A few minutes.”

He nods and grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment, “Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay.”

At some point he’s going to have to tell you that he received orders. That’s another reason why he stayed away, because he was going to leave and he didn’t know how to tell you. Just like he didn’t know how he was supposed to leave you behind. It wasn’t like he was staying close either, they were sending him all the way across the country. Back to Virginia Beach.

He wanted to ask you to come with him, and he would. If you were pregnant with his child, there was no way he would leave you behind. Even if the test was negative, he couldn’t stomach being so far away from you. It made him feel physically sick just to think about it. 

Your phone timer goes off a few minutes later. He holds you tightly as you flip over the test, brows knitted together as you struggle to read it. But there’s only one line, not two. Bradley almost lets out a sigh of relief, but your eyes are watering. 

“This is good,” You try to convince yourself, “We couldn’t- I-”

“It’s okay,” He assures you, kissing the top of your head. 

Because he feels the same way, both relieved and somehow disappointed. One day, maybe if you feel the same way, you could have a child together. He could imagine it, and for a moment he let’s himself see it. 

“I should be happy,” You try wiping at the tears, but more just keep coming, “Why aren’t I happy? Where have you been?”

“I needed time to think,” He admits, still holding you tightly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It feels right, having you here. It shouldn’t, but it does,” You tell him, turning in his arms so you can hug him back.

“I know it does, I feel the same way. Felt like I was walking around without a limb,” He laughs softly, “It’s wrong, but it feels so right to be with you.”

“Then stay,” You say simply, “Stay with me, Rooster.”

He swallows, “I got orders, I’m being restationed.”

“What?” Your heart drops, he’s leaving you, “Where?”

“Virginia Beach. I leave in two weeks,” He answers, “They actually gave a good heads up.”

“Oh.”

“Come with me.”

You look up at him, eyes still wet, “You want me to come with you? Are you just saying that because I thought I was pregnant?”

“Baby, I was going to ask you before that,” He promises, “I want you with me. We can start over out there.”

“My life is here,” You blink. 

“You hate your job, you’re always complaining about it. Your family is on the East Coast,” He explains, “What do you have to keep you here?”

You almost say Kurtis. But then you think about it. You’ve been to his grave only a few times since the funeral. You hate the idea of him being there, in the cold ground. You’ve never been the type to sit and talk to a big slab of stone. Because in your mind, he isn’t there, he’s just everywhere. He’s in the rays of sun that peek through the clouds, and in the cool sea breeze, he’s in the flowers. He’s everywhere, and yet he’s nowhere. 

“Okay,” You breathe out. 

“Yeah?” He questions, bending down so he can look straight in your eyes, “Are you sure?”

“Do you even know where you’re going to live?” You question, a laugh somehow finding its way out. 

“My folks had a house not far from base,” He explains, “I’ve kept it up and rented it out for a couple of years to other military families. The last tenants just got restationed too, so it’s wide open and ready.”

“Your parents' house? Like where you grew up?” You ask, looking up at him. 

“Yeah,” He nods, “I was going to pack up a u-haul and drive it down next week.”

“You really want me to come with you?” You question again, trying to wrap your head around everything that’s happening. 

You went from thinking you were pregnant to suddenly agreeing to move across the country with your husband's best friend. Only, he’s more than that now. Because he means more to you now. He’s someone you’re falling in love with, and someone you never expected to love. It snuck up on you, slowly and steadily, until suddenly it’s all you could think about. 

Until all you wanted was to be held by him all day every day, and to talk to him and to kiss him. All you wanted was to be around him. The thought of him being all the way across the country from you made your chest hurt. You couldn’t imagine being that far away from him. You couldn’t say that you loved him out loud, it still felt too soon for something like that. But you did feel it, like a blanket wrapping around your heart. 

“Baby, I can’t imagine you being anywhere else,” He replies honestly, “I want you with me, everyday.” 

You lean up to kiss him. Softly, slowly, like you have all the time in the world. Because now you really felt like you did. If you were going to go with him, you’d have every single day to do this, for as long as you had him. 

“Okay,” You say again. 

“Yeah?”

You nod and kiss him once more, “Yeah. I’ll come with you. I want to come.”

Two weeks later you climbed the lush green hill towards the spot where Kurtis was buried. You were dressed in comfortable shorts and an old t-shirt that Rooster left behind before driving to Virginia. You take a deep breath and sit down, hand skimming the top of the tombstone.

“I’m not good at saying goodbye,” You sigh, “But I think you already know everything I’m going to say. I like to think that you’ve been keeping an eye on both of us. Maybe you gave him the push he needed to come back to me. Or gave me the push to admit how I felt about him. Either way, I blame all of this on you, Kurt. Playing matchmaker from the beyond.”

You take a deep breath and set flowers down, “I know it hasn’t even been a year yet. But he isn’t replacing you. No one could ever do that. You were my soulmate, I firmly believe that. But I’m not the same person I was when we got married, losing you changed me. It changed him too, and I think it changed us so much that we fit together now. I love him, Kurtis, and I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened.”

You wipe at a few stray tears. You never planned on saying goodbye to him twice. This time feels like closing the chapter on the two of you. A very final goodbye. Your chest felt tight, you wished Rooster was here with you, instead of waiting for you to make the drive across the country in his Bronco. You sold your car last week, with plans to buy something a little better once you got settled in Virginia. 

“I hope you’re happy wherever you are. I wish you were still here…I miss you every day. I’m not trying to replace you, because no one ever could. But I also can’t be alone forever, and I think you understand that. I certainly hope so. I leave for Virginia today. Rooster is letting me drive the Bronco, can you believe that? He didn’t even seem worried when he handed me the keys. I remember you used to joke that you’d know he really loved someone when he let them drive that thing….so, I guess that means he must love me too.”

You take a deep breath and stand up, “Thank you for being my first love, Kurt. I’m sorry you weren’t my last, I wish you could have been. You know I’ll never forget you, and I’ll always love you. But this isn’t home for me anymore, so I have to go.”

You lean down to kiss the tombstone, “Goodbye Kurt, I’ll love you forever.”

You’re in the Bronco, ready to start the vehicle when you pull out your phone and call Rooster. He picks up on the second ring, his voice putting you at ease almost instantly. You relax into the seat, smelling him all around you. 

“Are you on your way?” He questioned. 

“Leaving now,” You tell him, “I’ll call you at every stop, I promise.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you,” His voice sounds so happy, you can almost picture him smiling in the middle of the living room, “I can’t wait for you to get here.”

“Just a couple of days,” You remind him, “And then I’m all yours.”

“Do you have everything?” He asks again, for the millionth time today. 

“I triple checked,” You promise, “I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you,” He says quickly, without even thinking. 

The admission makes you smile. You said it for the first time before he left, unable to stop yourself. You were afraid something might happen to him on his drive and you needed him to know it, just in case. He smiled and kissed you so hard you swore your lips might bruise, then he told you he loved you a million times. 

“I love you,” You laugh, turning the keys in the ignition, “I’ll see you soon, Roos. Stay safe.”

“Drive safe, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you again,” He sighs, “Been too long already.”

You laugh and pull away from the curb, “Soon,” You promise, “I gotta go. I’ll call you later tonight. Fly safe.”