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The Younger Kind Part 61 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The wedding day itself wasn't all that important to Bradley. He just wanted to get to the point where you and he were officially married, and the details didn't much matter. At least that's what he thought before he saw you step out of the house. Then he realized that these were the exact moments he'd never planned for but desperately needed to experience.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley must have been able to tell that you were anxious on Friday evening. It was just a normal day, really. He went to work and dropped Noah off at preschool on the way. You used a vacation day to clean up the house a little bit with the promise that you wouldn't overexert yourself. And you made some snack trays for Saturday afternoon along with a lasagna for dinner.

But to you, it wasn't a normal day at all, because you were getting married tomorrow. Whenever you started thinking about it, you had to stop what you were doing and sit down for a few minutes. When Bradley left with Noah this morning, he kissed you goodbye like he always did, seemingly unfazed by the weekend plans. But now it was hitting you hard. You were getting married.

When the boys got home, they ran inside while Skittles barked at them. "Hi, Mommy! I painted a wedding!"

Bradley scooped Noah up with one arm before he got to you, and Noah brandished a colorful painting that looked absolutely nothing like a wedding, but you took it and exclaimed, 'It's perfect!"

"I know," he replied as you kissed him on the cheek. Then he started to squirm to the floor, and after that, Bradley's lips were on yours.

"It smells good in here," he whispered. Then he really looked at your face and asked, "Everything okay?"

You nodded and kind of half shrugged. "Yeah."

"You and the baby feeling okay?"

"Mmhmm."

He gave you a skeptical look. "We're getting married tomorrow, Baby," he murmured, holding up a cup from the coffee shop. He'd written Princess across it like he always did, and you looked up at his earnest eyes as tears filled yours. "If you've got cold feet, then I-"

"No!" you gasped, reaching for the cup and pressing your body to his. "No," you told him with all of the conviction you had. "I love you." His arm wrapped around your back, and you felt instantly better. You tried not to jostle the coffee too much as you ran your fingers along his cheek and up into his hair. "It's just hard for me to believe I was just your babysitter earlier this year."

Bradley smiled and said, "You were never just my babysitter. God, I wanted you bad. Right from the start. In my bed, and in my life."

You let your cheek rest against his shoulder as you inhaled the scent of French vanilla coffee, and Bradley traced your spine with his fingers until you shivered. "I wanted you just as bad, Daddy."

He kissed the top of your head. "Nothing's changing. You know that, right? We'll just have a little piece of paper saying we're legally married, but nothing is really going to change. We can take a honeymoon next year. We can eventually tell your parents we got married if you feel like it, or not. We can talk about combining the rest of our bank accounts if you want to. But it's still just me and you. Us and Noah and the baby."

"And Skittles."

"Obviously Skittles, too," he said, and of course the dog came running into the room.

As the kitchen timer started going off, you tried to slip out of his grasp, but he held on. "Tell me what's bothering you first."

You buried your face against his neck and inhaled deeply. Bradley smelled like home. "I'm a little nervous. I wrote my vows, and now I think they sound stupid."

"Nothing you say could sound stupid to me."

You groaned and added, "And I'm exhausted by eight o'clock every night now, and we have all these people coming over for the wedding. I look tired all the time."

"You're beautiful all the time. And I'll kick everyone out after dinner. I'm not going to want them here after that anyway."

When you laughed, Bradley started walking with you held against him. The kitchen timer was still beeping, and you didn't want dinner to burn, but you didn't want him to let go of you either. "I just want to adopt Noah and have a million more nights like this one," you whispered, still holding Bradley's hand and the coffee as he pulled the meal out of the oven.

You took a sip of your drink and it was delicious, and so were Bradley's words as he told you, "Then that's what you'll get."

So maybe it was kind of a regular night after all. You cut up Noah's dinner into bite size pieces for him, and Bradley was drawing lazy shapes on your pregnant belly with his knuckles while he ate. Then he cleaned up after he sent you and Noah to the couch to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons.

"Mommy, do you remember when we met Mickey? With Aunt Natasha?"

"I sure do," you said with a yawn. "That was the best day." Then Noah yawned, too, and it didn't take much coaxing to get him into his pajamas and into bed.

"Will you lay with me?" he asked as you tucked him in.

"Just for a minute, because I need to finish a few things for the wedding tomorrow."

You climbed into his bed, and the next thing you knew, Bradley was waking you up with a kiss. "Come on, Baby. Let's get in our bed."

You groaned and let him help you stand, and you ran your fingers through Noah's hair. "What time is it? I still need to vacuum and wash the kitchen floor."

"I already did it," he whispered as he led you out of the room.

You yawned. "I wanted to shower and shave my legs."

"Do it tomorrow. Or don't. I don't care."

"But it's our wedding day."

You let him tuck you into bed, and he slipped in next to you. "It is, Baby. Our almost-Christmas wedding since I couldn't wait until next year. And all I need is my exhausted Princess with her hairy legs for it to be fucking perfect."

You stifled your laughter as he curled up behind you, keeping you warm while you dozed off again with his big hand resting on your belly.

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

When you woke up the next day, Bradley and Noah were already gone. You knew the plan was for them to get ready at Natasha's place while she joined you here to help you with your makeup, but tears stung your eyes as you walked around the empty house. You missed them already, and you wanted them to come back home so you could make Bradley your husband. You decided to take that feeling as a pretty good sign that the wedding was going to be perfect.

The kitchen smelled good, and you found that Bradley left the fancy coffee maker on for you, but you gasped at what else you found. There was a light blue bakery box, and you opened it to find crown shaped donuts with icing that spelled out I LOVE YOU. You moaned softly and picked up the letter I donut and took a bite. You also found the bag from the jewelry shop, and you immediately remembered how sneaky he was the night you picked out the wedding bands.

You shoved the rest of the donut into your mouth and dug inside the bag. Your eyes went wide when you pulled out a tiara. An actual tiara with some purple gemstones adorning it, like an upgraded version of your paper crown. Now you really wanted Bradley to come home so he could see it on. He probably spent a fortune on it, like he did everything else for you, but you were already imagining that it might make its way to bed later.

"It's me!"

Natasha's voice pulled you from your wedding night daydream, and you rushed into the living room where she was already wearing a simple blue dress and holding several bags. "How are my boys?" you asked.

"Great. Excited. Noah already looks adorable. I guess Bradley looks okay."

You were cracking up as she wrapped you in a hug, and that's when you realized you were wearing an old TOP GUN sweatshirt and your underwear. "I need to start getting ready."

"Yes," she replied with a smile and a quick kiss on your cheek.

"And I really need to shave my legs."

"You should do that first."

"Yeah," you replied, laughing as you made your way to the bathroom. "I'll do that first."

Once you were clean from the shower, Natasha helped you into your new set of purple lingerie. You appreciated that she treated it like a business deal, simply saying, "Bradley will lose his mind later," instead of making a big deal about your growing belly. You were sure you'd be marrying him even if you weren't pregnant, but maybe it wouldn't be happening so soon. "Let's get your hair and makeup settled before we get your dress on. Go grab your tiara."

"You know about that?" you gasped, excitement filling you up.

"Please. I know about everything."

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

Perhaps you were a little nervous last night, but now Bradley was the one who could barely handle himself. You were inside the house, but he wasn't even allowed to go in there, and it was killing him. He wanted to see you in the worst way and make sure everything was okay, but instead he and Noah were stuck on the back patio as everyone else started arriving. All he managed to get was a text from Nat with a thumbs up emoji.

"You look adorable!" Bradley turned around to see Penny kneeling in front of Noah, making a fuss over him. "You match with your dad!" It was true, because you had been the one to find the light gray suits and floral purple dress shirts. Bradley simply ordered them and got himself and Noah dressed.

He hated to say it, but the wedding wasn't that important to him. Not really. He would have done a big, overpriced ceremony if that's what you said you wanted. But this was fine as well. All he really wanted was to make it official. The Bradshaws. His family. He didn't need anything else.

As Maverick pulled him in for a hug, Bradley saw some more of his friends from work arrive. Not that he'd ever really consider Jake Seresin a friend, but after he took the seven hundred bucks in tip money, Bradley said it was fine if he wanted to stop by. You were with Bradley now, and you were never going anywhere. He'd see to that. He'd had a lot of time to come to terms with how young you are and how guys were always going to be looking and hoping. If Bradley were less confident in himself or your love, he'd have never made it this far. But here he was, waiting for you to walk outside in your wedding dress so he could take the wedding band out of his pocket and slip it on your finger.

Nat came strolling casually through the back door as Bradley hugged Tracy and Noah played with Amelia. Bradley broke away from his lawyer who congratulated him and assured him that all of the paperwork he needed was in perfect order for today and for the adoption. When he pulled Nat aside and asked, "Is she okay?" he got an eye roll in response.

"She's great. She ditched you and ran away with another man and his adorable son not five minutes ago." Nat smirked at his deadpan expression and said, "You need to learn how to relax. I was just coming outside to tell you that we're ready to get started, okay?"

"Yes," he replied, already scrambling to locate Noah and Skittles. "Let's fucking do that."

Bradley knew the ceremony was going to be short; you and he had designed it that way. Ten or fifteen minutes, and you'd have it in the bag. It would be a done deal. But when Natasha screamed at everyone to be quiet and Javy started playing the song Bradley asked him to, it all felt very real. The music was just the right volume, flowing through the speakers as Bradley held Noah and Skittles in his arms, and it washed over him when he finally saw you. His favorite song, the one you knew immediately back in your babysitter days, had him remembering the way he fell for you. How you picked on him in the best way about all the old music he loved. The way this song made him think only of you ever since he heard you singing it in his kitchen.

And now you were stepping out of his house wearing a wedding dress and the tiara he picked out for you. Your glossy lips only made your smile brighter as you walked across the deck, purple shoes peeping out from the bottom of your dress. It wasn't a long walk along the path to where he was standing, and he'd remember every step you took for the rest of his life.

He grunted softly as he noticed the way your dress was snug enough to hug your bump like you were showing it off, allowing everyone to see what he'd done to you. He knew that the bouquet of purple wildflowers you held in one hand smelled as sweet as you always did, and you waved your fingers at him as you got closer.

"Hi, Daddy," you said with a smile just for him, and he rushed forward a few steps, closing the gap to get to you sooner.

"Princess," he whispered, leaning down to kiss you while Nat balked behind him.

"You're already doing everything out of order!" she said. "The kiss is literally supposed to be the last thing!"

You just laughed and kissed him again before also pressing your lips to Noah's cheek and patting Skittles on her purple bow. "It's okay, Natasha," you told her as you wrapped your free hand around Bradley's bicep and guided him to where she was standing. The song faded away, but you remained next to him as you smiled and said, "It doesn't really matter what order we do this in just as long as I end up married to Bradley."

"Okay, fine," Nat said, opening her notebook in a huff as Bradley set his son and his dog down. Skittles ran off toward Amelia, and Noah stood with his arm around your thigh looking up at you. As you ran your fingers through his son's curls, Bradley leaned in to kiss you again. "Stop kissing. Seriously. Or there won't be a big climax at the end."

The guys all hooted with laughter at what Nat said, including Bradley. "I don't think that will be a problem," you said, lacing your fingers with his.

"It certainly won't be," he whispered. "You gonna keep that tiara on all night?"

You looked a little bashful, but you said, "Of course, I'm a Princess."

When he tried to kiss you again, Nat started snapping her fingers in his face. "Enough. I need to read all of this shit that I wrote down so you can get married, okay? Just stand there for a minute, and keep it in your pants."

You were laughing now as you said, "This is already the best wedding I've ever heard of."

Nat cleared her throat and started reading from her notebook. "Hi everyone. You all know me, and you all know these two idiots who decided they wanted to marry each other, so I'll make this quick. Bradley Bradshaw is my very best friend, and I don't even know why. He's not particularly funny, nor is he the wittiest guy around, and he absolutely can't cook anything."

"Jesus," Bradley said. "Why did I ask you to officiate?"

She chuckled and said, "Because I also have a couple nice things to say about you.... Bradley is a lost cause in many ways, but he's loyal, and he has a cute son. Hi, Noah."

"Hi, Aunt Natasha."

Bradley was shaking his head as you squeezed his hand, and he gave Nat the signal to keep going. "Right, well, here's the other thing about Bradley: he's been there for me for a long time, so any time he needs something, I'm always going to help him. It was easy to see that he was lonely and ready to start dating again at the beginning of this year, and when he said he was falling in love with his babysitter instead of the women he was meeting from the dating app, I told him to go for it. I'd never seen him happier than he was on the days when he got to see you," Nat said, smiling at you.

"Really?" you asked, looking at her before looking up at Bradley in wonder.

"Really," he and Nat said at the same time, and he had to fight the urge to kiss you again. Instead, he ran his fingers along your cheek and didn't take his eyes off you as he asked, "Nat, can I say my vows now?"

You kissed Bradley's thumb as Natasha said, "Clearly you're just going to do whatever you want, so go right ahead."

"Great," he whispered. He had everything he wanted to say written down on a note card in his pocket, but he didn't really need it. With Noah standing in between the two of you, he knew he had everything he needed right here with him. "You still never told me how you did it, Princess."

You looked up at him as he held your hand, a puzzled look on your face. "How I did what?"

He ran his thumb in slow circles along the back of your hand and said, "How you walked into my crumbling life and made everything better."

Your lips twitched as tears filled your eyes, but you were smiling as you said, "There was nothing to fix, really. You and Noah just made me fall in love with you."

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Noah whispered, tugging gently on your dress as Bradley tried to contain his own tears.

"I know," you told him with a watery laugh. "I made you a snack tray, but you need to let Daddy finish talking first."

"See, Baby? We are pure chaos," Bradley told you, reaching down to scoop Noah up again. "We were so much worse before you, though. Thank you for falling in love with us. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for being more patient than anyone else I've ever known. Thank you for taking care of us, and for letting us take care of you. All I want is to be with you forever. The four of us," he said, his knuckles grazing your belly. "It's perfect, really. But I can't promise we will ever be less chaotic. All I know for sure is that I'm always going to love and appreciate you. And that it was worth going through all the bad stuff to get to this point. You were the missing piece. You were always the missing piece that we needed."

You nearly dropped your bouquet of flowers as you threw your arm around his neck and snuggled in against Noah. "I love you both so much," you sniffed. "And I don't even think you're chaotic at all. Being around you is the calmest I've ever felt. Like I know you'll protect me and make sure I'm comfortable. I started falling in love as soon as I met you both, and I keep falling in love a little bit more all the time. And I will never take this for granted, because I never expected anything this good to happen to me."

"I'm still hungry," Noah whispered loudly, clearly concerned everyone had forgotten about him.

"I know, sweet Noah," you said as you laughed and cried at the same time. "And I'm going to take care of you forever, okay?"

Bradley watched you kiss his forehead as Noah said, "I got you a coloring book. It's Princesses."

"Of course you did," you told him as your voice cracked. "You're the best." You were crying more now, but you looked so happy.

Even Nat was wiping at her eyes as she said, "Are we ready for the rings then?" When you both nodded at her, she pulled Bradley's wedding band out of her dress pocket and handed it to you. "Just put them on each other. Oh my God, I didn't think I would cry."

Javy handed Nat his handkerchief as you took Bradley's hand in your smaller one and slid the thick band into place. Then he kept his eyes on yours as he and Noah did the same with your diamond wedding band. You let your hand slide up Bradley's arm and settle on his chest. Your eyes were focused on his, and the purple gems in your tiara were catching the sunlight. You were flawless. You were his wife. Almost.

"Nat?" he asked, covering your hand with his own and pressing it against his heart. "Are we married?"

"Oh, right," his best friend replied as you laughed softly and bit your glossy lip. "Yeah, according to me and the state of California, you're married. You already kissed and messed that entire part up, but you can kiss again, I suppose."

He handed Noah to her, and your lips came crashing to his as he wrapped one arm around you. This other hand settled against the side of your belly where the baby was growing, and he heard everyone cheering in the backyard. You were right, this was the best wedding he'd ever heard of as well. "I love you, Princess," he murmured against your lips, the sweet smell of wildflowers everywhere as you deepened the kiss again.

Then you pulled away and whispered, "I'll love you forever, Daddy."

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

With two rings on your finger and your husband standing behind you, kissing your neck to the point of distraction, you tried to pull Noah's tray of ants on logs out of the refrigerator. "Daddy!" you gasped when his hand slid up from your belly to your breasts which did look pretty great in your wedding dress.

"Hmm," he hummed, giving you a little squeeze. When you whimpered softly he made a suggestion that you almost agreed to. "Let's sneak off to our bedroom for a few minutes. I want to play with my wife."

That word made you giddy, and you could feel every inch of Bradley's strong body pressed against yours. When you glanced outside, you saw your handful of wedding guests, dancing and playing with Noah. It was very tempting. Nobody would miss you, but everyone would know where the two of you went and why. "How much longer until you can kick everyone out?" you asked softly.

You felt him shrug behind you as he said, "The caterers will be here shortly, so probably about two hours before I can demand everyone leaves."

"Damn it," you said, pulling the snacks out of the fridge and unwrapping them. "I just want to take you and a slice of wedding cake to bed." You thought back to Noah's birthday party and the horny kitchen sex with the leftover cake.

"I'll feed it to you, and then I'll fuck you so good," he crooned, and you were about to tell him to send everyone home now when dinner and the cake arrived.

"Mommy!" Noah shouted through the back door, apparently no longer worried about his healthy snack since the sweets arrived. "Come look at the cake I picked out!"

You turned around in Bradley's arms, and he looked delighted to be presented with your baby bump. "You let Noah pick out the wedding cake?"

He winced in response as he ran his hand along your belly. "Yeah... about that. I'm really sorry."

You grabbed his left hand, his wedding band smooth against your skin where his fingers were usually a little rough, and you pulled him back outside with Noah's snack. "I don't know if I should be scared or-" You gasped when you saw it. "Oh my god, Bradley. It's perfect!"

The cake had two tiers. The bottom was decorated with white buttercream and a bunch of green and brown dinosaurs. The detail was amazing. There was even a volcano. The top tier was decorated with purple flowers and topped with a knight holding hands with a princess that looked a lot like you. The two layers looked pretty ridiculous together, but it was beautiful.

"I love it!" you squealed, making sure Amelia took some pictures of it for you. Actually, everyone had been doing a pretty great job of capturing the afternoon on camera. After dinner, when you cut into the cake and fed a bit to Bradley, Nat took a video of you smearing some of the purple icing all over his lips and mustache. He looked startled as you started laughing before kissing him.

"You'll pay for that later," he promised, holding you close while someone queued up his favorite song again for you both to dance to. But he wasn't complaining when your mouth was on his for most of the song, tasting all of the sweetness on his lips.

The afternoon was kind of crazy, and Bradley held onto you the whole time, only releasing you so you could dance with Mav and then Javy. And then all it took was one yawn out of you, and your husband was clearing everyone out of the backyard. Noah was all pumped up with too much sugar, but luckily he was going home with Penny and Amelia for the night. And lucky for you, your husband was as sweet as the wedding cake.

"Let me help you out of your dress," he whispered, setting butterflies off in your belly as he carried you inside the kitchen. "And I'll get your tiara out of your hair so you can get some rest."

"But I don't want to rest," you said, licking at a bit of icing that still clung to his mustache. "I want my husband."

He paused in the middle of the kitchen, eyes closed as you dragged your fingers through his hair. "Say it again, Baby."

"Husband," you whispered, kissing the prickly stubble on his jaw. "Please?"

Bradley just grunted in response, slid the door shut with his foot, and carried you all the way to bed. Once he had you spread out, you watched him make quick work of removing his suit coat and purple shirt. "Did you pick out this dress on purpose because of the way it shows off your bump?" he asked, kicking off his shoes. "That sounds like the kind of thing my wife would do to make me go insane for her."

"Maybe." You felt silly there in your tiara and high heels, but oh... the way he was looking at you. Bradley climbed into bed where you were being careful not to put your feet on the bedding, but you didn't need to worry for long. He took your ankles in his hands and placed them over his shoulders, stroking his hands up and down your thighs.

"Tell me what you want to do instead of resting, Princess."

The fabric of your dress was bunching up around your hips, and you knew the moment he saw your purple lingerie, because his knuckles connected with your core through the lace as you moaned, "I want my Daddy."

Bradley kissed the inside of your knee and caressed your thigh until you shivered. "Want me to do what?" he crooned, leaning down to kiss your lips. You could still taste the icing from the wedding cake when you ran your tongue along his mustache, and even though you knew what you wanted, you still felt shy asking for it.

When Bradley reached back to gently take your shoes off and toss them aside, you whimpered his name. He worked the zipper down the side of your dress and helped you shimmy out of it, and then you had your legs spread before him in just your tiara and purple lingerie. He looked sinful in his suit pants with his erection bulging and his wedding band on his finger as he said, "You're my wife. You get anything you want. Especially when you're wearing this."

You coaxed him closer so he was on top of you, and his length was resting on your core as you whispered, "I want you to make me squirt."

He groaned as he got to work like it was absolutely at the top of the list of things he wanted, too. "My pleasure, Mrs. Bradshaw," he murmured against your lips, and you were already clenching as soon as his fingers tucked inside the front of your underwear.

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

Bradley let you be as loud as you wanted. In fact, he was trying his damndest to get you louder and louder. You were his wife now, and Noah was gone for the night. Skittles seemed to have retreated to the kitchen for some solace as Bradley buried his face in your ass and pussy, legs spread open wide and shaking.

You cried out, "Daddy," over and over again as he changed his tempo from luxuriously slow to rough and fast. You wanted to squirt? Well he wanted you to soak the fucking bedding until you were crying. Every time he looked up at your face, he saw the swell of your growing belly, and he couldn't stop himself from grinding his cock against the bedding.

"Fuck," he growled, watching the rings on your fingers as you grasped at the pillow beneath your head. He could tell you were getting close as he brought you to the edge and then let his pace slowly fade away one more time, and when he slipped two gentle fingers inside you while sucking on your clit, you screamed his name. You soaked his face and hand, and he was afraid he was going to cum in his suit pants as your thighs clamped around his head, riding him through your orgasm.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you panted, sitting up in a bit of a daze even as your legs went limp. Your tiara was crooked, and your makeup was smeared, and Bradley couldn't get enough of the sight of his sated, pregnant Princess. Your eyes met his, and you smiled through your daze, sitting there on the wet bedding with your left hand resting on your belly. Meanwhile Bradley was a different kind of mess, trying to get his zipper down and alleviate his aching cock.

"Let me help you," you whispered, putting your hands on his wet ones before taking over for him. "Want me to go down on you?"

Bradley shook his head as you eased his pants and underwear down his legs and took his cock in your hand. "Baby, I want to fuck you. It's our wedding night, and I want to be inside you."

A soft yet determined look settled on your face, and somehow he ended up sitting in the wet spot with you straddling his hips. You didn't seem to care that his forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat and that he wasn't going to last very long. You just sank down around him, rocking gently as he whispered, "I don't want to hurt you. Either of you."

"I know," you replied, kissing him and brushing his hair back from his face. "I know, Daddy." He came with you just like that, your lips and hands gentler on his body than any touch he'd ever known before you. Your voice as soothing as his favorite song. It was no wonder he was so in love with you. It was no wonder he and his son couldn't live without you.

After he got you cleaned up and carefully removed your tiara, you fell asleep in his arms as he reminded you that in a few days, you and he would be finding out the sex of the baby after you adopted Noah.

"You're already the best wife and Mommy. I can't wait for number two."

"I love you."

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

It's official! Bradley married his babysitter! Noah is on his way to officially having Princess as his Mommy, and we will learn more about the baby so soon! Two parts of this series left! Thanks for reading and interacting and making this so much fun to write! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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383 notes · View notes

katieshook02 · 3 days

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BARZY DOUBLE OVERTIME WINNER ?!? WTAF

#isles lb #I STEP AWAY FROM MY PHONE TO GO MAKE SOME FOOD #AND I COME BACK TO THIS?!#do i need to go make food more often when we’re tied or what?

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katieshook02 · 3 days

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ANOTHER OVERTIME ARE YOU KIDDING ME 😭😭

#isles lb

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katieshook02 · 3 days

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why tf haven’t i gotten any updates about this game since the canes tied it 😭😭 what is going on

#isles lb #i’m too scared to turn it back on rn

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katieshook02 · 3 days

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can’t tell if i need a xanax or a gun.

#isles lb #this game has me STRESSED

3 notes · View notes

katieshook02 · 3 days

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PAGER THE SHORT KING THAT YOU ARE

#isles lb

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katieshook02 · 3 days

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MATHEW MICHAEL PAUL BARZAL I LOVE YOU ENDLESSLY

#isles lb

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katieshook02 · 4 days

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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter One

Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.

Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut

1.5K

In her defence, she didn't realise that The Hard Deck was a navy bar. She just wanted a drink, a moment of peace before she got back onto the road.

It was empty as she sipped her very first drink, savouring it. The longer she sat there, the longer she had to spend I'm San Diego, away from her family. But that was entirely intentional.

By the time she finished her first gin and tonic (something she had gotten a taste for because of her brother). The bar began filling up. She stood up from her seat, fished her keys from her pocket, and moved to leave. But she found herself back in her seat, found herself intrigued.

These navy men weren't like the men she hung around with. They were bigger, much more muscular. She watched from the corner of her eye as a few of them played pool.

"Would you like another?" The bartender asked kindly.

She immediately went to stand. "I can come and get it," she said, but the bartender shook her head, promising to bring another gin and tonic to her. Another gin and tonic and she wouldn't be able to drive.

As she sipped her second gin and tonic, a man walked in. The only similarity he had to the navy men was that he had aviators low on his nose. It didn't matter that it was dark outside, he sill wore them. A hawaiian shirt was on his body, open to reveal the white beneath. She'd seen her share of moustaches on friends, fellow drivers, her heroes growing up, but none of them looked as good with one as he did.

Colour her intruiged. She sat back as she watched him, sipping her drink as he wandered over to the bar and ordered himself a beer. As soon as the beer was in his hands he was walking over to the group playing pool behind her.

She lost sight of him then, but thought nothing of it as she drank. Two drinks and that would be her lot.

The man in the hawaiian shirt walked past her. He sat at the piano and pressed a few of the keys. His aviator friends surrounded him, singing along with joy as she played.

She couldn't look away from any of them. It was quite a sight. She had seen similar celebrations in her own line of work, like when her brother won his first championship.

He finished playing and everybody returned to what they were doing. His aviator friends walked past her in her both as they headed back to their drinks and to play pool. He went to do the same. She watched his watched the way he held his beer in his large hands, the way his hawaiian shirt moved around him.

But, suddenly, he was sliding into the seat opposite her. She couldn't hide her surprise as he sipped his beer and said "Hi."

That was it. Just 'hi'. She'd been chatted up so often in her line of work, she thought she was immune to it. But one little word from the gorgeous man across from her and she was ready to melt.

But she held her composure. The way his dark eyes stared into her own, the way a small smile played beneath his moustache, wasn't making it easy. "Hey," she responded almost nonchalantly as she picked up her drink. She'd been trained by her media team for stuff like this. But, one look at the man in front of her, and she wanted to forget it all.

"I haven't seen you around here," he continued.

She didn't think he knew who she was, but this confirmed it. It sent sparks through her. This was freedom.

"I'm just stopping by," she replied, a smile playing on her lips.

He held his large hand towards her. "I'm Rooster," he said.

She took his hand and shook it. "Well, Rooster. Do you always sit with random girls in bars?" She asked.

For a moment, a very brief moment, panic shot through him. But as soon as he saw the smile playing on her lips, he immediately relaxed. "Only the pretty ones," he replied.

She saw an opportunity. "Well, if I'm so pretty, then you wouldn't mind telling me your real name. Because I'm betting its not Rooster."

He shook his head. "You're right, it's not actually Rooster," he answered. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."

In return, she gave him her first name and her first name only.

"Have you got a last name?" Bradley found himself asking.

The name suited him. Bradley. She hadn't said it outloud yet, but couldn't wait to feel it on her tongue. Even if it was for only one night.

She didn't tell him her last name, instead pulling out her I.D card to get him to read it. He took it, the I.D card looking tiny between his fingers. "Ver... Vershtap..." He tried to say it again, trailing off in a mumble.

"Close," she laughed. "Verstappen."

Bradley continued to blankly stare at her. So she decided to teach him. "Repeat after me. Ver."

"Ver," Bradley repeated. She couldn't help but laugh, it wasn't like it was difficult to pronounce.

"Stap."

"Stap. Verstap," he said nodding.

"Pen. Verstappen."

"Verstappen," he said slowly. But then he said it quicker, surprising himself with just how easy it was. "It's pretty, where is it from?" He asked and took a swig of his beer.

"It's Dutch," she answering, curling her fingers around her glass. "On my dad's side."

Bradley said her name in full. The way it rolled off of his tongue, she could have listened to it forever.

He looked at her I.D again. His face dropped. "You're twenty five?" He asked in surprise.

She nodded her head and sipped her gin.

"I'm thirty six," he replied.

Bradley went to stand up, to take his beer with him, but she shook her head. "It's not a problem with me," she said and he stilled. "You're younger than my brothers girlfriend and that is my threshold."

So, Bradley sat back dow. As they drank, they spoke. Bradley got her another drink when hers ran dry.

"What are you doing here in San Diego?" He asked as he slipped into the seat beside her.

She tapped her nose. "That's for me to know," she said and giggled. But she really wasn't going to tell him. She'd learnt by now that, once somebody knew who she was, they started treating her differently.

She didn't want that with Bradley.

She didn't know when they started kissing. But her hands were in his hair and she could feel his moustache against her lip. Bradley had his hands on her ass, squeezing lightly as he pulled her onto his lap. "You wanna head back to mine, find out why they call me Rooster?" He whispered against her lips.

She pulled away and nodded her head. At that, Bradley squeezed her hip. "I'm gonna need your words, pretty girl," he said and she kissed him again.

"Yes, Bradley," she said, her forehead against his. "I want you to take me back to your place and show me exactly why they call you Rooster."

Bradley grinned. He took her hand and led her out of the hard deck. As he took her past the other daggers, Nat sent a wink his way.

"Which one if yours?" She asked. She wasn't going to point out her car to him, the McLaren she was currently borrowing from the man that had taken her job. But more on that later.

Still holding her hand in his, Bradley took her over to the Ford Bronco.

She let out a whistle. "This is sweet," she muttered as she looked around it.

Bradley beamed. His Bronco was his pride and joy. "You know about cars?" He asked and she nodded her head.

"You could say I'm a car mechanic," she said and giggled.

Bradley opened the car door for her and helped her into the Bronco.

She fiddled with the radio for most of the ride back to his place. Normally Bradley was precious about his radio. He had it set to a station he liked, and nobody was allowed to change it. But he didn't mind when she did it. When she found a station she liked, she settled back in the passenger seat of his Bronco and hummed along.

Bradley was a gentleman. As soon as he pulled the Bronco into the driveway of his house, he opened the door for her and took her hand as she jumped out. He pushed the door shut and immediately pressed his lips against her own, hands cradling her head as he gently pushed her against the Bronco. She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. "Fuck," she whispered against his soft lips. She'd never kissed someone with a moustache before, it was a different sensation, brushing against her lip as she fought for control.

She pulled back, chest heaving as she stared at him. "So, you gonna take me inside or what?"

Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @nurse-sainz

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katieshook02 · 4 days

Text

too sweet, part 11

dark as a lake

series master list

liked by taylorrose and others

yourusername: ✌🏻✌🏻 see ya in the fall ann arbor

rutgermcgroarty: bro did he fuck up? What's with the excessive flowers?

yourusername: I just like flowers rutgermcgroarty: is that why your house always smells like a fucking perfume store? yourusername: my house just doesn't smell like dirty feet and sweat which your nostrils apparently aren't used to rutgermcgroarty: are you saying that my house smells like dirty feet? yourusername: and sweat.

taylorrose: brb while i cry over the loss of my best friend for 3 months

yourusername: why you acting like you won't be coming to visit taylorrose: let me be dramatic yourusername: no.

edwards.73: nice flowers

yourusername: thanks some random guy gave them to me luca.fantilli: some random guy is wild dylanduke25: did you just acquaintance zone the man who bought you flowers? yourusername: woah big word there bud markestapa: did someone add extra sass into your breakfast this morning? yourusername: probably

username24: patiently waiting for the y/n and ethan hard launch

username12: REAL I just want boat and lake content of the two of them

liked by yourusername and others

taylorrose: starting summer off right- thanks for having rich brothers y/n

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: they gotta be useful for something

yourusername: also come back i miss you

taylorrose: please you're too busy being in lala land with a man to notice my absence yourusername: not true taylorrose: i'll be back don't you worry your pretty little head yourusername: counting down the days

jackhughes: you're welcome for being a 'rich brother'

taylorrose: your service is greatly appreciated 🫡

_quinnhughes: you're not allowed to drive that jetski ever again

taylorrose: so dramatic, no one died lhughes_06: speak for yourself I came face to face with god himself taylorrose: drama queen

markestapa: I just know they learned so fast that you can't be trusted to operate any moving vehicle

luca.fantilli: probably regretted even letting her step near that jetski taylorrose: please I'm such a good driver markestapa: and i'm the freaking pope

_______________

Super quick post while I've had to time to get something written

tags: @jdjgasidkgdf@bunbunbl0gs@love4ldr@lilasianmeat

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katieshook02 · 4 days

Note

can we get a barzy smut (ur wearing his cowboy hat, doing it on the kitchen counter)

save a horse, ride a cowboy – mb

wc: 1.9k

cw: SMUT (18+)!!!, dirty talk, cowboys 🤠

note: I knoooooow I’m supposed to be working on other things but at least I’m writing again!!! hopefully more coming soon!!! love you guys & thanks for the support 🫶🏼 reblogs & comments appreciated

“Alright, cowboy. I’m ready. Let’s go.” After over an hour of getting ready you finally stepped out of the bathroom ready for your night out. Mat and your friends were going out tonight to a bull riding event that came to New York only once a year. Your recent obsession with cowboys had you giddy for the night all day long. You had broken in your new cowboy boots for weeks specially for tonight. Your boyfriend had the same idea with his cowboy hat. Which looked absolutely sexy on top of his mess of hair. You’d been fantasizing for a while about riding him with his hat on. But that would wait for after the show.

You found Mat sitting on the couch on his phone with his black cowboy hat on his head. “Finally,” he said, putting his phone away, looking up at you. You could see his breath hitch as his eyes dragged over your body, slowly, up and down, then up again to meet your eyes. They narrowed slightly as he pulled his lower lip between his teeth.

You grinned and spun around in a circle, giving him the full view of the outfit. The white oversized linen blouse that was held together in the front by only two strings, with a red lace bra underneath, the tight black miniskirt with an oversized western belt and the star of the show, your cherry red cowboy boots. “Good?”

“Fuck,” was all he muttered, before lifting his hand to rake his hand through his hair, which knocked the cowboy hat of his head he forgot he was wearing. He was frozen in place so you took to few steps it took to get to him, leaning over a little too closely to give a little peak and picked the hat up, setting it on your intentional wavy mess of hair.

“Now I’m ready.” You stroked his cheek and winked at him before walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Mat immediately jumped up and followed you to the kitchen where he came up to you from behind to pull you into his body by your hips. His lips latched onto your neck, pressing soft wet kisses along it while his big hand slipped underneath your open blouse over your stomach keeping you in place against him.

“We gotta go,” you hummed leaning more into his touch. You really did have to go, but the warmth that spread throughout your body was terribly good at letting you forget that fact.

“I don’t care,” Mat mumbled back, still working your neck and jawline while sliding his hands over your body.

“We’re gonna miss the opening show,” you tried again, but there wasn’t much care behind your words either.

“I’d much rather bend you over the counter and fuck you all night long.” A little gasp escaped you at his words. “And you know what they say, you wear the hat you ride the cowboy.”

You couldn’t argue with that logic and let him spin you around and kiss you breathlessly. The hat was knocked of your head when he pressed you into the fridge kissing you so aggressively that you had to grip his own linen blouse you forced him to wear – a black tshirt just wouldn’t do – strong enough you were scared you were going to rip holes into it.

You didn’t kiss for much longer, both of you already worked up enough, before Mat gripped your hips roughly to flip you and bend you over the kitchen island. You landed on your elbows, palms flat on the marble while Mat kicked your legs apart. He groaned slapping your ass that was already peaking out from under your skirt. He shoved the tiny bit of frantic even higher so it bunched around your waist, only to reveal the matching red lace thong. The growl that came out of him could have brought you over the edge alone. Mat’s calloused hands griped your delicate skin then pressed his erection into you.

“This ass drives me crazy, every fucking day.” He slapped your skin again. “And then this skirt, god.”

Your moan was interrupted by a chuckle. “I’m aware. We never make it out the door without you fucking me against the closest surface any time I wear it.”

One of his hands got ahold of your waves and pulled your upper body up to him. With a touch voice he spoke into your ear sending shiver down your spine, “Is that what you want? For me to fuck you on the counter? Making us late yet again? We’re starting to gain a reputation.”

His grip on your hair was rough but the pleasure trumped the pain. “Yes,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Good girl.” And with that she shoved you back down, pressing you flat against the cold counter. He works his pants, freeing his hard cock desperate to slide right into you. And he doesn’t waste any time pushing your pantries to the side, lining up and running the tip over your folds. You both gasp at contact. “This pussy if soaked for me. You like the hat that much, eh?”

You wiggled your ass in response, widening your stance and pushing back into him to urge him on. He slipped himself through your folds again before slamming into you to the hilt. “Oh god,” you moaned, your finger digging into the marble.

Mat gave you a few more seconds to adjust before gripping your hips and thrusting back into you, hard. “So fucking right.” He switched between hard and fast thrusts then slower and more precise ones, grinding into you making sure to hit every angle. His hands were on you. Your back, pushing you down. Your hair, giving him something to hold onto while slamming into you repeatedly.

You were a whimpering moaning mess underneath him. “That what you wanted? To be fucked by a cowboy?” His words were choppy and breathless as he slammed into you then rolled his hips sliding impossibly deeper.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathed. That got your ass slapped and your hair pulled hard giving you enough momentum to force yourself up onto your hands. Mat’s lips connected with your shoulder, biting down enough to leave marks before soothing the burn with soft kisses.

“You are delicious,” he murmured and suddenly the moment turned soft. Your arm wrapped around his neck pulling him into you for a kiss. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and you both moaned when Mat started slowing moving his hips again.

But then he separated, only enough to spin you around and lift you up onto the counter, capturing your lips immediately after. You kissed, not caring about smearing your red lipstick. He was addicting and even though you absolutely hated being late to events, for this you’d give up everything. But when your body started to scream for his cock filling you again, you slipped your hand between your bodies wrapping your hand around the root of his hard length that juts out above the waistband of his underwear. Around every hot, hard inch covered in your juices. Your finger glides over the tip, smearing the drops of cum beading there.

Finally, you slid closer to the edge of the counter and Mat filled you easily, breaking the kiss to let his head fall back with a groan. Your legs shook in their place around his waist. You felt every inch, every ridge, every vain as he slowly moved inside of you. The please was building and building, turning your brain into mush losing control over your body. But Mat got you, pinning you to him, savoring every moan and sigh.

“Maty. Maty.” You buried your face in the crock of his neck and let him work you, pumping into you slow but deep.

“You’re so good to me,” he whispered, his lips tracing your damp skin. “So good.”

His jaw flexed as he started to pick up his pace again, both of you already close to finding your release. So you lied back on the counter, let your legs fall open, and started to play with yourself while Mat took you in. That expression of passion and love on his face in full blinding force. But then you bit your lip and pinched your clit as his expression turned downright wicked. He pulled out and then slammed in hard. Again. And again. Steady, even, powerful strokes that shook your entire body.

Mat fucked you senseless on the top of the kitchen counter. The cowboy hat, which had gotten you so worked up all afternoon since he refused to wait until tonight to wear it, scattered on the floor. He looked like some sort of avenging god working you into a frenzy. Flushed cheeks, disheveled hair flopped over his forehead, veins bulging on his forearms while his abs flexed with every thrust. You could come just from savoring the view you got by lying with spread legs beneath his hard, heavy body. His hands held you open wide, and his eyes stay locked on yours.

You finally fell apart underneath his touch. Your body tremored, wave after wave as your orgasm dragged on for an eternity. Mat draped himself on top of you, pressing him lips to yours, swallowing every moan you gave him.

You held him close, hugging him to you even closer. Your shudders subsided and you were finally able to focus on him, noticing his lips switch – a tell he was also close. “Come on, cowboy. Come in me.”

Your voice was hoarse against his ear. You reveled in the fact that he shivered in response before his thrust got more and more sloppy, before he finally erupted. Mat groaned loudly, pushing deeper into you, spilling every drop of him cum inside of you. You felt everything. Every pulse. Every kiss. Every touch. You could even feel his heartbeat on your chest and his harsh breath against your neck.

You spent a couple of minutes catching your breath, stroking his hair, waiting for that orgasm cloud over your brain to pass. When you finally did muster up the courage to look over to the oven clock, you pushed Mat away from you. “Fuck! We’re really gonna be late now.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Mat’s hand caught your wrist, spinning you back towards him. “Let’s clean up.”

He grabbed a paper towel, wetting it in the sink, before dropping to his knees. His green eyes were still oozing sex as he slowly wiped his cum from your thigh. “Hurry,” you whined. “I wanna see the cowboys.”

He smirked before reaching back to grab his hat off the floor flopping it on his head. “You’ve got a perfectly good cowboy sitting right here. On his knees ready to worship you, might I add.”

As much as you loved the feel of your pussy clenching at the thought, you had plenty of time to do that later. Mat worshipping you could wait. The cowboys couldn’t. And that’s what you told him, before pulling him off the floor, doing the cleaning up yourself to actually get the job done. After a quick trip to the bathroom for some perfume renewal, you finally dragged your cowboy out the door.

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katieshook02 · 5 days

Text

can’t even cry if we lose cause i have lash serum on

#isles lb #we pulled our goalie.. let’s be fr rn

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katieshook02 · 5 days

Text

hands to yourself | dilf bradley bradshaw x nanny!reader (18+)

surprised with an afternoon to himself, bradley takes advantage of the alone-time, thinking about the woman he can’t have.

warnings: shameless pwp, bradley is down bad for his nanny and hasn’t touched himself — or anyone — in a long ass time. masturbation, pining, swearing, fantasising about oral and such. voyeurism, kinda, he gets walked in on. I may write a part two for this but idk yet. I just needed to write a lil smth about him touching himself. Wc: 3k

this is the lingerie set I was thinking of but imagine whatever ya like x

…

Bradley drops his keys into the bowl by the door, they land with a stark rattle. The faint tan-line between his brows disappears into the crease that caused it as he frowns. He looks towards the stairs, and then wanders in the living room. His boots tap softly against the floor.

“Kids?” He calls out into the unfamiliar quiet.

Nothing. His eyes widen in slight panic, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as he looks around him. The floor is spotless — their toys are stored neatly in their bins, there aren’t any new stains on his rug, and there aren’t any cartoons on his television.

The sound of his boots on the ground are unnerving; he can’t bring himself to admit that he misses the sounds of chaos he usually returns to. He wanders through the house, making a beeline for the backyard. Sunny day like this, he figures that’s where he’ll find them.

Nothing. The yard is completely empty beside the laundry hanging out to dry. His mouth feels dry.

Once the mid-day mind fog dissipates, Bradley’s panic starts to, too. That birthday party. You’d mentioned it twice this week already, and once this morning. He’s just forgetful at the minute — — you know how crazy work has been for him.

He pauses, standing in his unusually clean living room, and purses his lips. His hands come to rest on his hips while he looks around him. He isn’t used to this.

Usually, within seconds of him walking through the door, he’s got a kid attached to his leg or a fight to break up or a permission slip to sign.

There’s nothing that he needs to do.

Nothing urgent.

Nobody else home.

Lifting his wrist, he takes a quick glance down at his watch and considers what to do with his sudden freedom. Birthday parties take a couple of hours, right?

He takes one final look around him, his eyes catching on the laundry drying outside. Clipped to the line is a power-blue balconette bra. He’s seen it before. The day he accidentally walked in on you.

Since you moved in four months ago, Bradley has been especially careful about knocking first. He wishes he could say it’s because he’s a gentleman. Really, it’s just because it made it hard enough for him to keep his hands to himself the first time.

There had been a heatwave that week. You had the afternoon off but Bradley hadn’t been able to find the sunscreen, and his kids are damn near impossible to keep out of the sunlight. With them arguing downstairs and trying to figure out the lock to let themselves out, he just wasn’t thinking and he hadn’t knocked.

“Hey, do you know where you put the—“ He’d stopped, frozen, taking in the sight of you sprawled across your bed. His bed. The bed he gave to you when you got the job of living here. A red popsicle between your lips and a book propped open in front of you, wearing nothing but a powder-blue set.

“Oh—“ Your eyes had gone all wide and surprised, too shocked to move, just like him.

The only thing that reminded him that he even had the option to move was the sound of his son running up the stairs to hurry this process along. He had slammed the door shut, blushing furiously, and turned to face his eldest.

“Found it, dad! It was in my backpack.” Grinning, he had held up the bottle of sunscreen and Bradley had just been forced to continue with his afternoon like he hadn’t seen anything at all.

When he finally peels his eyes away from the line of drying clothes outside, his gaze lands on the basket of dried and folded laundry sitting on his kitchen counter ready to be put away. Sitting right on top, is a glossy looking pair of blue panties that match the bra on the line.

Bradley’s already been kicking himself for his behavior since you got here. It’s downright shameful, the things he lets himself think about you. You’re half his age, first off. Second -- he’s your boss. You live in his house. His kids think you’re their best friend.

They think you’re just here because you love hanging out with them so much, not because their mommy and daddy couldn’t get along for the life of them and daddy works too much.

His mouth waters. Staring at some blue lace in a laundry hamper and his mouth’s practically watering. He’s pathetic. His guy friends keep telling him he needs to get back in the game, start moving on — he hadn’t been so sure. But then, he’s never almost popped a hard-on over a thong in a pile before.

He can picture you so perfectly in them. Your round ass barely covered by the material, legs kicked up behind you and your ankles crossed. When he closes his eyes, he can picture you facing the other way. Your face toward the headboard, your ass right in front of him.

His slacks grow tighter as his neglected cock stirs to life. It occurs to him that he can’t remember the last time he jerked off. Maybe sometime before his middle kid got the flu? — Around a month ago, maybe. His nights since then had been primarily spent clearing up puke.

The sad part is, the thought only tends to occur to him when he’s at work. Home is always far too hectic. For a while now, he’s been stuck working late into the night with a boner while he’s flicking through candidate paperwork and flight logs.

Well, he’s thinking about it now, and he’s got the place all to himself. No locking himself in the bathroom and letting the shower run, trying to think of anything but the growing list of chores he has to do to keep this house functioning.

He swallows thickly.

He’ll tell the guys that they’re right. He needs to get back into the game; get his head on right, stop pining over his nanny. Tomorrow. For now, he lifts his hand and takes the underwear, smoothing the sheer mesh between his index and thumb. Closing his eyes, he hopes that you won’t notice they’re gone before he can return them.

He twists the cap off of an ice cold beer, leaves his boots neatly by the door and walks calmly upstairs. From there, he clicks his bedroom door shut and steadily takes himself out of his uniform, dropping it into his laundry hamper.

Finally, he settles down against his headboard with his phone in his hand and your panties in his lap.

Porn will make this better. It’s less weird if he’s not necessarily picturing your face. It’s not — but he might have a better chance at looking you in the eye later if he tells himself that.

Not that any of this feels exactly regular.

He inhales and shifts, and scrolls. Birds are still tweeting outside, singing early afternoon songs. His teeth nip at the inside of his cheek as he scrolls aimlessly until he finds a thumbnail that looks halfway doable.

All alone, the house feels especially quiet when the first moan spills from the speakers. He flinches at the sound and scrambles for the volume button, then hesitates. He doesn’t have to be quiet. He doesn’t even have to be ashamed. Shit, it’s a little late for that.

His brows knit together a bit, cocking his head as he examines the babbling girl on the phone screen. His hand stirs to life from where it had gone limp on his thigh, finding his cock through the grey fabric of his boxers. With one last cautious glance to his closed bedroom door, the silence beyond it confirms to him that he’s okay.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he strokes himself over the material. The video isn’t particularly interesting, not when Bradley’s head can fill itself with far more interesting material at whim. His mind starts to wander back to that dream he’d had of you in the nurses outfit— that one had hit him hard, literally. He could barely look in your direction without getting hard for two days.

Soon enough, he’s hard and straining against the briefs. But that’s thinking about you, and that’s not allowed. He shifts restlessly and goes back to scrolling, palming himself absently. Finally, he comes across a video that sparks something. The thumbnail is of a girl with swollen lips and a cock in her mouth. It’ll do.

There we go. He huffs, that red-hot desperate feeling spreading down his neck and covering his shoulders. Making like it’s going to swallow him whole. Bradley lifts his hips to shuck down his boxers, tucking the waistband under his balls, still prepared for a hasty recovery at the sound of the garage door opening or something. He glances down at himself, remembering the days his thighs were narrower and more taut and he wasn’t noticing grey in his pubes.

If he wanted this done quick and fast, he’d spit hard into the centre of his palm and get to work. It’s been a long time since it hasn’t had to be quick. He thinks he has— he turns a bit and pulls open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging blindly at the back until he comes up with what he’s looking for — lube. It’s practically full, not like he has been using it much.

A drop in the middle of his hand is enough, he figures. Turning his attention back to this new video, he settles, cupping the weight of his shaft in the palm of his hand. He gives it one slow pump, following the length, coating himself a bit. Real slow, his eyes study the screen, working the lubricant against his skin.

The actress bobs her mouth around the on-screen cock enthusiastically, moaning around him, raking her fingertips along his thighs. He locks his fist around himself, warm and tight, wet. It’s not a mouth but it’s the closest he has felt in a long time. If he closes his eyes, it could be your mouth.

You’d take him slowly, at first, ease him into it with that taunting nature you’ve let him glimpse at. He wouldn’t close his eyes; wouldn’t take ‘em off you. His hand steadies into a lazy rhythm, picturing the way you’d look up at him through your lashes.

The way you’d suck, and flick your tongue across his swollen tip. He shivers as he swipes his thumb through the precum beading there, stroking it all the way back down, stuck on imagining what it would feel like with your saliva joining the mix.

A pleased, feminine hum of approval comes from his phone and Bradley’s body responds just as eagerly, his hips twitching into the thrust of his palm. Sweat beads at his forehead as he slows to the point of almost stopping, dragging this out — making a point of exploiting his time alone.

He blinks hazily and finds a glimpse of blue, remembering suddenly the souvenir he had taken. The pitiful scrap of fabric he’s so wound up over sits against his thigh, looking suddenly small in comparison to his cock. He lets himself go and grabs hold of the fabric firmly, balling it tightly in his fist.

The soft lace bristles at his palm. Freshly laundered, they don’t smell of anything but detergent. It plays to the weaker side of him, gnawing at him, leaving him desperate to have something beyond what’s in his head. To know your smell, your tastes, your sounds. He shudders as he wraps a hand snugly around himself once more, this time, with an added layer of lace and soft mesh.

His head falls backwards, mouth hanging. Like this, it’s even easier to pretend. The image of you straddling his thighs, rocking your pussy against him while wearing nothing but these has him finally relaxed. Zen, even. A groan dies in his through, coming out more as a deep and baited sigh. He lift his hips, fucking into his fabric tangled fist.

Sometime between picking up your panties and now, the video has moved on without him, the blowjob forgotten. If he was to open his eyes, he would find that she’s on her back, being fucked into a mattress. He doesn’t need to. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he steadies up to the rhythm of her moans, skin hitting skin.

You’ve been living here four months now and you haven’t stayed out once. He wonders if you’re as wound up as he is. If you’ve thought about him the way he thinks of you. How downright desperate you’d sound moaning against his pillows while he finally gets to feel you. His left hand jumps, grabbing a firm fistful of the sheets beside him.

The shame he feels has been checked at the door, he lets himself think that you might have looked at him, that you might want him. He chases the feeling, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Pumping the blue mesh around his cock, imagining you rocking yourself on him. Something gentler, more spry. It feels good. You’d feel good.

His imagination is better than he gave himself credit for.

His wrist twitches and he slows, feeling his thighs tighten as his heels press into his mattress for leverage. He chokes out a sound that he won’t admit is closer to a whimper than anything else, panting hard as he lets the rush ebb a bit. Pursing his lips, he draws out a slow exhale.

His mouth hangs open, eyes dipping to watch himself loosen up with the material, finding himself with just his bare palm once again. He takes the blue fabric in his left, opening it up and examining the dampened marks of his precum and the lube.

Just like that, he’s back in the guest room — your room — and you’re wearing that blue set. It’s dampened like this, but not because he has made a mess of it, not yet. Because you have. You’re soaking through it, looking up at him with that awe-struck look on your face. Your mouth open wide but this time there’s no red popsicle.

“Fuck.”

“Shit.” You whisper, catching the diaper bag that had almost fallen from your shoulder as you cradle the sleeping infant against your chest. Quiet as a mouse, you click open the front door and toe off your shoes.

She’s dead-weight in your arms, probably drooling on your shoulder. Her two older siblings will be causing all kinds of mischief and consuming sugar in all of its forms at their cousin’s birthday party for the next three hours. Given that the party lines up almost exactly with the fifteen-month-old’s nap routine, you figured you would take her home to rest so that you could get around to putting away that laundry you had started.

You’ve got a thousand things on your mind. A million things to do before Bradley gets home that evening. Truthfully, you’re a thousand miles away as you stroll upstairs and walk to the far end of the hall to the nursery. You lay her down and adjust the baby monitor, setting up her white noise machine routinely.

Her bedroom door clicks shut behind you and you take a moment to consider your priorities. Laundry takes precedence, even though you want so desperately to crawl into bed and sleep for an hour. You huff, groaning to yourself as you walk back downstairs to find the basket you had abandoned.

As you round the stairs and walk through the hallway, a choked sound spills from under the wood of Bradley’s door, something deep and breathless. Already halfway to the kitchen, you don’t hear a thing.

The video stopped a while ago but Bradley had stopped watching it even earlier. His head is thrown back and his lips are parted, his features creased in concentration as he chases his high. He thrusts into his fist, white-knuckling your panties with his free hand, his heart thundering in his chest. “God, fuck.”

He doesn’t have a clue that he isn’t alone anymore. He didn’t hear the minivan, he didn’t hear the front door. He doesn’t hear you rush back up the stairs with the hamper hiked against your hip.

He walked in on you. He stopped, and he stared. You were interrupted, so you can’t blame him for slamming the door shut. He’d missed, or ignored the signals since. The looks, the touches, staying up with him until your eyelids are so heavy that they’re barely open because he’s kind of an insomniac. Nothing. You’ve been beyond curious, desperate to know if he has been blowing you off on purpose or if he’s just clueless.

Clueless yourself, armed to put away freshly folded t-shirts, you grab the door handle and push it open. He works late, always. He’s rarely home before bedtime on work days. He told you this morning that he’d try not to wake you when he came in. And yet — there he is.

You get a glimpse of him before he registers the click of the door, before he spots you. Brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, his curls dampened and hugging his forehead. Sunlight catches on the beads of sweat as they trail his glistening middle, spilling across his strong, softened middle. Broad shoulders flexed, the veins in his right arm straining through the skin, fucking his palm.

He reacts quickly, but there’s little that can be done. His eyes spring open and his hand releases himself, his body flushing a deeper shade of red at once. Thighs spread, he doesn’t have much time to cover himself before the door whips shut again.

You press your back to the door, staring at the ceiling. On either sides of it, you each have a moment of silent consideration.

“… are you okay?” He asks weakly.

He gets a soft squeak of acknowledgement as an answer and starts to wonder how you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. God, he hopes you don’t quit. The kids love you, and you’re incredible, you make his life liveable. His mind races, trying to come up with some kind of way to fix what you just saw. Everyone masturbates, it’s normal, it’s healthy—

“Was— Was that my underwear?”

Shit, Bradley thinks, he’s done for. There’s no coming back from this. You’re going to tell every nanny in the state that he’s a creep and work is going to eat him alive while he tries to juggle three kids alone. He curses breathlessly, fixing his underwear to cover himself and pushing himself out of bed.

He’s stuck for a second, considering if it would be better to give you time or to go after you. His eyes widen as the door clicks again, and pushes slowly open.

Your eyes rake over him, standing tall at the foot of his bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs. Still, regrettably, balled into his left hand, is your underwear. Powder-blue. He follows your gaze and looks down at the fabric, cursing his own stupidity, wondering if it’s too late to drop them.

You wet your lips with your tongue as your gaze flickers across. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away — he had just been so close, so caught up in it. It’s still rock hard, straining against the grey fabric, dampened at the tip with a spot of precum.

All of those signals and efforts come to a head. After four months of pining, you can’t just wander downstairs like this never happened. Laundry can wait. “You want a hand?”

…

tags: @royal-sunflower @redbarn1995 @atarmychick007 @jessicab1991 @seitmai @bellaireland1981 @roosterbruiser @tenderly-hopeful-collection @bradshawsbaddie @tgmavericklover @cevansbaby-dove @lyn-js @mynameismckenziemae @perpetuelledaydreaming @diorrfairy @sparklehippie17 @heatherbabees @prettiewittie @forgiveliv @oleksiak-pettersson @illegalxhood @fantasticpeacestarfish @rockstxr-x @d0main-expansion @diorsmores @mydarlingrose @sticksticklettuxe @alrightyyaphrodite @bowchickawowowww @aquafairy777 @eternallyvenus @maxwell-era @devil-angel-winchester @roosterishot @rosiahills22 @literally-iconic @brinaaa10 @foggyturtleknightangel @a-serene-place-to-be @aragorn-02 @sunflowercharlie13

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katieshook02 · 5 days

Text

casual , part 8

“ so now when we kiss ”

series m. list previous chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, luca.fantilli, and 123,748 others

yourusername who’s gonna be the chandler to my monica (i need someone to marry me when i’m still single at 40) 🤗

view all comments

vivianliu don’t worry bae i’ll hook you up with the hottest 40 year old man when we get there

→ yourusername you’re too sweet 😞😞

→ lhughes_06 no you won’t

→ vivianliu yes i will 😒 lhughes_06

rutgermcgroarty i can’t be chandler but i can be the ullmark to your swayman

→ yourusername STOP YOU KNOW ME SO WELL

→ jswayman1 there’s only room for one pair 🙄

→ rutgermcgroarty …have you just been lurking??? jswayman1

→ yourusername oh my god sway it’s you i love you so much you’re like one of my favorite goalies ‼️

→ yourusername DID YOU JSUT FOLLOW ME IH MY FUCKUGB GODDDDD jswayman1

→ jswayman1 yes i did 🫡

→ jackhughes WHAT this isn’t fair???

username25 THE jeremy swayman just followed you babe how do you feel 🎤

→ yourusername AMAZING

username37 FRIENDS AHHH

trevorzegras i can be the chandler to your monica

→ yourusername yeah.. i’m good 😬

→ trevorzegras HEY THATS MEAN

→ yourusername i’m just kidding z (not really)

→ yourusername i’m sure there’s a ton of girls out there that want you!! it’s just not me 🫶🫶

→ _alexturcotte the public rejection is insane

→ trevorzegras 💔

→ yourusername i still love u tho!

→ trevorzegras ❤️‍🩹

edwards.73 me

→ yourusername we’ll see

→ edwards.73 whats that supposed to mean 🤨

→ yourusername one night in my bed isnt gonna make me forget about everything

→ edwards.73 IM SORRY FOR IGNORING U

→ yourusername prove it

luca.fantilli i’ll be the rachel to your ross!

→ yourusername you wanna be the woman in an on-and-off relationship??? 😭😭

→ luca.fantilli yeah i wanna see what it’s like to be you for once 🤗

→ yourusername hold up

→ lhughes_06 LMAO

→ dylanduke25 THAT WAS SO UNCALLED FOR

→ luca.fantilli oops

→ yourusername 😟😟

username34 the way he looks at her 🥲

username88 I LOVE THEM

markestapa hypothetically what would you do if someone asked you out and asked you to be the monica to their chandler

→ yourusername i would marry them on the spot

→ markestapa moving a little fast there aren’t we?

→ dylanduke25 AHEM edwards.73 AHEM

lhughes_06 ustjay osay ouyay owknay ehay eallyray oesday ikelay ouyay (just so you know he really likes you)

→ yourusername we haven’t used pig latin since like middle school 😭😭

→ _quinnhughes your nerd phases

→ lhughes_06 utshay upyay (shut up)

→ jackhughes IGPAY ATINLAY (PIG LATIN)

→ luca.fantilli oh my god i remember speaking pig latin

→ adamfantilli igpay atinlay asway oatedgay (pig latin was goated)

→ vivianliu is this just a sibling thing 😭

→ dylanduke25 no tyler never learned it for me 😐😐

→ tyler___duke5 no i just never used it with you dylanduke25

→ trevorzegras ancay onfirmcay ityay asway ayay iblingsay ingthay (can confirm it was a sibling thing)

→ griffinzegras please don’t bring it back i was struggling enough back then

→ edwards.73 iyay opehay ouyay owknay iyay understandyay igpay atinlay ootay (i hope you know i understand pig latin too)

username84 who’s gonna translate all that pig latin 🥰🥰

username97 oh my god this is gonna send me back into my friends phase

→ username6 RIGHT

_alexturcotte remember the friends marathons we would have every summer

→ yourusername barely 🙄

→ _alexturcotte WHY ARE U ROLLING UR EYES

→ yourusername YOU WOULD ALWAYS “FORGET” TO TELL ME YOU WERE WATCHING IT

→ trevorzegras he was watching it with me that’s why 😉

→ yourusername ieday trevorzegras (die)

→ trevorzegras you’re no fun rosie

adamfantilli i love gale weathers

→ yourusername completely different franchise but yes she’s toooooo iconic 😈😈

→ vivianliu sidney’s hotter

→ adamfantilli that’s a hot fucking take vivianliu

→ luca.fantilli sidney prescott or sidney crosby??

→ vivianliu both

→ markestapa you’re all forgetting about billy

→ yourusername BILLY

→ lhughes_06 billy 😒

username18 i just finished friends!!

username75 I WILL

mackie.samo I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

→ yourusername i love maddy more

→ mackie.samo YOU MET HER ONCE

→ yourusername i stand by my statement

username71 istg this is directed at ethan

username8 STOP I MISS THEM

username31 i need someone to look at me like that

colecaufield ‘90s shows were my childhood 🙏🙏

→ yourusername ur literally an ‘01 baby???

→ colecaufield BARELY

username66 THEM >>>>

yourusername

liked by edwards.73, trevorzegras, and 111,629 others

yourusername i was fuckin superstars when i was nineteen 🥴

view all comments

jackhughes woah there

→ yourusername it’s just a song ! 😰

→ jackhughes i’m sure that’s all it is 🤨🤨

_quinnhughes YOU’RE STILL A CHILD

→ yourusername IM ALMOST 20??

→ _quinnhughes UR STILL 19

→ yourusername then my caption’s pretty fitting

→ _quinnhughes 😐

username27 IS IT BECAUSE OF WHAT I THINK IT IS

→ yourusername do tell

→ username27 ur 19, u and ethan, ethan’s like an underground superstar

→ yourusername 🙊

edwards.73 the shit we did you won’t believe me

→ dylanduke25 NOW IM AT THE TURN UP

→ mackie.samo LOOKING LONELYYY

→ trevorzegras AND THEY WONDER WHY IM QUIET AT THEM HOUSE PARTIESSSS

→ jackhughes CUZ EVERYBODY SEE ME

→ colecaufield ROLL SOME BLUNTS

→ adamfantilli AND HIT HER ONCE

→ rutgermcgroarty AND NOW SHE NEED ME

→ yourusername brent faiyaz 🙇‍♀️

→ edwards.73 did u put everyone on this song 😕 yourusername

→ yourusername yeah..

→ edwards.73 thought it was just me

→ dylanduke25 dont act all jealous 🙄🙄

username55 you’re. so. pretty.

dylanduke25 creds creds creds creds creds

→ yourusername creds!

→ edwards.73 why’d you take the pics

→ dylanduke25 bc we were hanging out?? 😭

→ edwards.73 oh

username89 omg babe where’s your top from

→ yourusername im gonna be honest i have no idea vivi got it for me as a gift 😔🙏

→ vivianliu i custom made it 🤭

mackie.samo this is so #cottagecore and #aesthetic

→ yourusername who the hell is teaching you this

→ mackie.samo my sisters 😕😕

→ lhughes_06 stop using hashtags good fucking lord

→ markestapa that intervention wasn’t for nothing mack 😒

trevorzegras brent faiyaz our lord and savior

→ yourusername 🛐

rutgermcgroarty HEY why didn’t you post our photos 😞

→ yourusername tis for another time my dear boy

→ rutgermcgroarty shakespeare lookin ass

→ yourusername 🖕

→ adamfantilli guys remember when we were nice to each other

→ yourusername no

→ rutgermcgroarty no

username99 CLOUDED

luca.fantilli is he gonna ask you out or what

→ yourusername luca 😭😭

→ luca.fantilli what?? i’m jus being curious 😔

username35 HELLO????? the fit ate down

vivianliu fuck her on the floor like i don’t give a fuck bout it 🎶🎶🎶🎶

→ yourusername your judgement get clouded when you clouted

→ vivianliu your judgement is clouded as hell

→ yourusername HOW???

→ vivianliu you know 😐😐

→ edwards.73 stop hating lil bro

→ vivianliu i hope you drown

username76 that second pic got me kicking my feet n shit

username21 skincare routine when???

username3 how are you not a model

adamfantilli let me tie your shoes bc i don’t want you falling for anyone else

→ yourusername no

→ adamfantilli did your license get suspended for driving all those guys crazy?

→ yourusername adam babe we talked about this

→ adamfantilli do you play soccer? bc you look like a keeper

_alexturcotte i got you new sneakers 🥰

→ yourusername REALLY??

→ _alexturcotte i figured you’d need them after running through my mind all day

→ yourusername oh god please don’t make this into a habit

→ colecaufield stop harassing her with pickup lines turcs

username69 we all know ethan’s going feral over this one

→ username14 fr i can sense it from here

username5 the hughes genes are godly asf

notes ) this is my way of coping through the pain of being a stars fan anyways should ethan n rosie finally get together 🫢

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat

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