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bradshawswife · 9 months

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HOTTT

Older bf Bradley picking up young gf from the bar drunk

Ugh omg him pulling up to the bar in his bronco and doing his strutty little slut inside wearing a pair of faded jeans and an old navy t-shirt. You’ve dragged him out of bed to be here, the plan wasn’t for him to see you tonight, but he’s here anyway because you asked him to be.

He squints a little, standing about a head taller than most of the people in this bar already, scanning the crowd for you. Once you clock him, you’re easy to spot. The pretty one in the short skirt, beaming and waving him over.

He walks over to you and kisses the top of your head, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you in against his side with a cool, “Hey, baby.”

He’s relaxed as you giddily introduce him to your friends. Even as they tease him, asking him questions about his career and his muscles — just to embarrass you. He pinches your side playfully, his lips quirking up into an amused smirk as one of them makes a joke about his size.

You stretch up and throw your arms around his neck, whining, “Guys, stop — let him be.”

Once all of the interrogations and goodbyes are finally done, he’s leading you outside with his thick palm holding onto yours. You grin as you press against his side, cuddling up against him.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” You tell him happily, squeezing at his palm. Bradley turns his head, smiling as he looks down at you. He knows from just the look in your eye exactly why you text him asking him to pick you up. “You look so, so handsome tonight.”

“You’re drunk.” He tugs your hand forwards and grabs your hips, making you gasp as he walks you back until you’re bumping into the blue paint of his passenger side door. You grin up at him, letting your teeth drag slowly along your bottom lip, giving him a certain shake of your head.

“Nu-uh.” You smile, mischief embodied as your fingers trail along his torso. He presses his chest into yours and grabs the back of your thigh, pressing himself between your legs and rocking that thick denim against the bare skin under your skirt.

“You’re trouble.” He corrects, a knowing smirk on his lips. Your grin grows as you stretch up quickly and press your mouth to his. He follows you down into the kiss, crowding you against the side of his truck, letting you grind down against his jeans.

“Maybe.” You giggle, breathing excitedly against his lips.

He squeezes hard at your thigh, chuckling softly as he leans in and kisses you once more, more deeply this time.

“You want to stop for food before we go home?” He asks you, giving your thigh one more soft squeeze before he lowers it back down until your feet are both firmly on the ground. You shake your head, reaching up to kiss him again, unable to reach as he straightens up.

“Just want you.” You tell him softly, pushing your fingertips under his shirt to feel the warm ridges of his skin.

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head and pulling you away from the door to open it. “Not tonight, baby girl. Step up for me, watch your head.”

You scowl, settled into your seat as he closes the door and walks around to his side. He plants himself in his seat and looks across at you, amused by the dejected look on your face.

“Got something to say?” He teases you.

You look across at him. He stares at you as you guide your hair back off of your face, twisting in your seat and starting to lean over the centre console, looking up at him through your lashes. “No…”

Bradley watches your fingers work the button on his jeans, brows raised. He cups your wrists in one hand and stops you instantly, turning the keys in the ignition with the other.

“You been thinking about my cock in your mouth, honey?” Bradley asks, his arm stretched along the back of your seat, neck craned as he reverses out of his spot. You swallow, pressing your thighs together as you give him a meek yes. “How about my mouth on that pretty pussy?”

“Bradley…” You whine at him.

He chuckles, reaching across and squeezing your knee. “Come on, you drag me out of bed after midnight and I don’t get to be a little mean?”

Both of you already know that if you’re still as eager for him at home as you are right now, he’ll give in to you. He’s been thinking about it all day. So, leaning back in your seat and parting your legs, you decide to be a little mean yourself.

Bradley’s eyes struggle to stay on the road, glancing across as you shimmy your underwear down your legs. He watches as you trail your fingertips under the cover of your short little skirt.

#this was wooo #bradley bradshaw #dirty man bradley #rooster bradshaw #fic recs #tgm

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bradshawswife · 9 months

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slow ride by foghat is playing at the bar i’m in… hangman are you here???

#hangman #jake seresin #top gun #tgm

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bradshawswife · 9 months

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― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers

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bradshawswife · 9 months

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interesting

color scheme of your tumblr user/your name; here!

I ended up doing both and I think they somehow both fit. It’s interesting they’re similar pallets 🥰

No pressure! tags: @joelsversion @sweetercalypso @sweetly-yours-and-mine @morning-star-joy @honeydjarin

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bradshawswife · 9 months

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RIP Angus Cloud ❤️‍🩹💔

nah man… i can’t fucking believe this shit. my heart is in a million pieces rn.

#angus cloud #so upset rn #rip

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bradshawswife · 9 months

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Leave the Door open | Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader

Bradley Bradshaw Masterlist | Main Masterlist

synopsis: Bradley's world gets tilted off its axis when he meets a certain blonde haired, green eyed female. based off this request

word count: 2.6k

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, mentions of nudity, fear, cursing, mentions of abortion, happy ending:)

His mind was completely blank, and that never happened. Rooster’s mind was always busy, hearing, analyzing, and thinking of everything and anything around him. It took a lot for Rooster to be speechless, but hearing you cry over the phone, begging him to come over right this very moment, had him forgetting everything. The drive to your place, which usually brought a smile to Rooster’s face was filled with eerie silence and dread.

The two of you had been together for just over a year. Rooster could remember the moment he saw you, the girl sitting alone at the bar. The pink sundress you wore stood out against the sea of khaki and green-colored uniforms. Rooster had been eyeing you all night, mustering up the courage to go order you a drink. But all courage was lost when Hangman waltzed up to you and pulled you in for a tight hug. Of course, the pretty girl in the pretty sundress was waiting for the biggest douchebag that Rooster had ever met. And to make matters worse, Jake had sauntered over to the group, his arm around your shoulders and a bright smile on his face.

“Who’s the girl, Bagman?” Phoenix asked.

“This is my sister,” Jake smiled, “My baby sister, so no funny ideas. Even you, Trace.”

And just like that, the courage returned to Rooster’s body. From the moment he introduced himself to you, till Penny called last call, Rooster was by your side. The two of you had hit it off immediately, the sparks flying so bright, you could probably see them from outer space. Hangman tried to do the whole big brother protective bit, but it was no use. If there was one thing that brought him joy, other than flying, it was seeing his sister’s bright smile.

Rooster was so lucky to have you. You understood the world that he lived in. You knew how crazy and unpredictable his career could be. Some nights he’d fall asleep in bed beside you, and some nights he’d fall asleep in a bunk in the middle of the Indian Ocean. You got along with his friends, and could keep up with their ribbing and jokes. You also understood how important his career was to him. You weren’t too crazy about getting married and doing the whole kid thing. You just wanted to relax, see the world, and spend time with the love of your life.

Rooster had basically broken all traffic laws to get to your apartment as fast as he could. When you opened the door, his heart broke in half. Your face was puffy and red, tears still evident in your eyes. Rooster didn’t say anything but pulled you in for a hug. He could hardly make out the words you were saying but his ears caught the words ‘I’m so fucking sorry,’. It felt like hot lava was poured down his back as he stiffened, his mind now caught up with what was going on.

He’d seen this all before. The cryptic texts, the odd behavior, and now you were in front of him crying and apologizing over and over. He had just hoped that this time you hadn’t cheated on him with one of his wingmen.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Rooster asked, rubbing your back slowly. You pulled away wiping your eyes and shook your head, “Y/N, tell me what’s wrong?”

“I-I,” You tried to speak, but your words were falling short. You held your face in your hands as sobs racked your body. Rooster felt nothing but anger as he watched you cry in front of him. He hated when they would cry before breaking his heart. He always thought it was selfish.

“What did you do?” Rooster asked, crossing his arms across his chest. You just shook your head, gasping for air in between cries. Rooster huffed, growing frustrated, “What did you do, Y/N? Just fucking say it!”

“I’m pregnant!”

You could hear a pin drop as soon as you said it. Rooster took a step back from you and you felt like your whole world shattered. You shook your head and turned on your feet to rush down the hall, feeling that all too familiar feeling rises in your throat. You were surprised that you managed to push the nausea away for this long. Rooster was stuck in his spot as he tried to will his brain to function again.

How did this happen? We’ve always been careful. I don’t get it. When did this happen?

Rooster’s jaw dropped as he thought back to that one night six weeks ago, before his last mission. The two of you had been at Mav and Penny’s cookout for way longer than you wanted to be. But between the good conversation and the drinks, time had slipped by you. Rooster could remember stumbling through the front door, hands all over each other’s bodies, lips pressed together. He had taken you right up against the front door, both too eager to make it to the bedroom. The whole night you two spent tangled in between the sheets, both too lost in pleasure to think twice about putting a condom on.

“Rooster.”

He napped back to reality as the sound of his callsign fell from your lips. His honey-brown eyes looked around your living room with wide eyes, noticing the ripped-open box of pregnancy tests on the floor, along with the Target bag and receipts. He also noticed the empty water bottles around the couch and your shoes and coat kicked off haphazardly around the room. If there was one thing about you, you weren’t going to tell him unless you knew for sure, and it was clear what the answer was.

“Bradley,” You called his name again from your spot in the hallway. He lifted his head from the mess in the living room to your small frame. You felt exposed as he stared at you.

Rooster felt like he couldn’t breathe like the ceiling and walls were caving in. He felt sick to his stomach as you walked out of the bathroom, red tear stains on your cheeks. Your arms were crossed over your belly in a protective manner, as if you were protecting the precious life inside you.

The life he helped create.

“Bradley, can you-”

Rooster shook his head, taking a slow step back from you. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you felt your heartbeat in your ears as you watched the man who you swore wasn’t afraid of anything, turn on his heel and out the front door.

———————————

“What do you mean he just left?” Jake asked you over the phone. You had called him sobbing after Rooster had left, “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Jacob!” You cried as you paced in front of your fireplace. It had been a little over three hours since Bradley left your house without a word. You had followed him out the front door, but he moved as though someone lit a fire under his ass. You yelled his name as he backed the Bronco out of the driveway and took off faster than the speed limit. It took all your power to not collapse to your knees in the driveway, but the moment you made it back inside, you were on the ground in a pile of tears. You had tried calling Bradley’s phone for almost an hour, every single time getting his voicemail box before you gave up and called your brother.

Jake was the second person you had told about the pregnancy. You had been in a toss-up on who to tell first; Jake or Rooster. If you knew that Rooster was going to respond the way he did, you would’ve told Jake first, “He just left! I-I don’t know what to do! Jake, I can’t do this-”

“Okay, you need to take a deep breath,” Jake said, cutting you off. He knew you were scared, it was obvious by the sound of your voice. He knew that kids were never in your future plans, but he also knew the type of person you are. You’d handle this in stride, with or without Bradley. You were raised by a strong single mother. Both you and Jake knew you had the strength and integrity to be a mother. But Jake also knew you wouldn’t want to raise a child alone if you had the option not to do so.

“You’ll pass out from crying,” Jake said, as he drove up and down the streets. He knew there was probably one place that Rooster would always go, “I’m heading to a spot where I think he’ll be, but you need to calm down.”

“Okay,” You sniffled, sitting down on your couch.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jake?”

“Breathe.” You smiled at his words, “It’ll be okay,”

“Thank you, Jake.”

“No problem. Just know I’m going to be the favorite uncle.” Jake smiled. You rolled your eyes and said goodbye to your brother, before hanging up. Jake was right about where he thought Rooster would be.

It was a park bench where his parents had gotten engaged years ago. The old wooden bench was tucked away by overgrown bushes and trees, but the look was still the same some 30 years later. Rooster had a picture, probably the last picture of all three of them, sitting on this exact bench, dated only a day before his father had died. The place had become Rooster’s escape, the quiet place he could go to clear his mind. He had taken you here once, creating a new memory and picture to last a lifetime. Rooster thought as he sat down on the old bench, about recreating that picture with his own child.

“You left my baby sister in tears and in a panic,” Jake said, walking up to his wingman. Jake sat down on the opposite end of the bench with a sigh. They both sat in silence for a moment, looking out at the dark ocean, hearing the waves crash against the white sand. The moon was high in the sky, illuminating the world.

“Thought you quit?”

“I did,” Rooster grumbled, taking a drag of the cigarette in his hand, “Only do it on occasion. Don’t tell her that though.”

Jake just shrugged his shoulders, “I think you smoking is the least of her worries right now.”

“She told you?”

“She told me,” Jake nodded, “She’s pregnant?”

“That’s what she said,” Rooster said, throwing his cigarette bud on the ground and stomping it out, “And I just fucking left! God, I did the thing I promised her I would never do!”

“And that is…”

“Walk out when things get hard,” Rooster said softly, “She said everyone walks out on her, and that’s why it took her so long to say ‘yes’ to dating me… she didn’t want me to be like everyone else, and I did exactly that.”

“The difference though, you have time to fix it,” Jake said, “She’s at home, scared, a mess, and worried about you. She even used the words ‘Jake, what if he wrapped his car around a pole?’ You need to go talk to her. You’re the only one who can make a decision in this scenario. You know what is right.”

Rooster nodded and pushed himself off the bench, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jake said, “Go home and make things right. And don’t make me regret giving you this little pep talk.”

Rooster chuckled and patted Jake on the back before getting into his car. Rooster stopped at a flower shop to get a bouquet of your favorite flowers before heading back to your apartment. He shed off his jacket, hoping that would help with the smoke smell. He took a deep breath as he noticed the only light that was on was in your bathroom.

————————-

You lay motionless in the tub, your head resting on the side of it. You lit some small tea candles to give the bathroom a soft glow. Your body had started to hurt from crying and being sick. Your head was pounding and all you wanted to do was be surrounded by warmth. Usually, you had Rooster to do that, but you had no clue where he was.

Your head picked up slightly at the sound of the lock turning and the door opening. You sighed, hoping it wasn’t an intruder, but you knew it was more than likely Rooster, since he was the only one with a key to your apartment. Whoever the stranger was, knocked softly on the closed bathroom door.

“Baby? You in there?” Rooster’s voice sounded out. You stayed quiet, not feeling the strength to face him just yet, “Baby, please respond. Just let me know that you’re in there so I don’t have to go file a missing persons report.”

You huff and sit up a bit in the tub, “I’m in here.”

Rooster sighed and leaned his forehead against the door, “Please. . .” His voice sounded fragile and broken as if he had been crying, “Please, can you open the door?”

“It’s open,” You said softly.

Rooster pushed the door open, leading with the bouquet of flowers. You couldn’t help but chuckle as he walked in with his eye covered, trying to give you some privacy. The tub was large enough that you could have your modesty covered. He placed the flowers down on the counter and then sat by you on the ground outside of the bath. Rooster gently placed his hand on your cheek, and you nestled into the feeling.

“I am so sorry for walking out the door,” Rooster said, looking at your bloodshot eyes, “I don’t even know why I did that. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“It’s okay,” You said softly but Rooster shook his head.

“It’s not, and don’t say it is,” Rooster said, “I was there too, I partook in creating a baby, and I ran like a coward,” Rooster took a shaky breath, “I got scared, I still am scared. I mean, we aren’t married and we haven’t even thought about having kids… I’m terrified I am going to do the wrong thing. I’m absolutely shitting myself right now ‘cause I smell like cigarettes and I don’t want it to harm the baby.” You smiled at Rooster lovingly, “But I am here, for whatever you decided, I will be by your side.”

“You- you mean that?” You asked him honestly. You would be lying if the thought of exercising your right to choose didn’t cross your mind. You didn’t have a job currently, trying to finish your degree online. Rooster was busy with his new role at TopGun and taking every mission that came across his desk. You thought in the back of your mind, there was no way you could have a child right now.

“Yes,” Rooster said and you believed him. Rooster wasn’t going to force you to do something you didn’t want to do, “If having an abortion is what you choose, I will be right next to you holding your hands and fighting off those stupid fucking protestors with my bare hands. If you decide to go through with the pregnancy, I’ll let you curse me out while you’re in labor. I am right here, baby, you’d have to kill me to get rid of me.”

You smiled and leaned in to kiss Rooster. Rooster’s chapped lips met yours and placed a kiss full of love on your lips, “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you,” You spoke, leaning your forehead against his, and pushing a strand of brown hair behind his ear.

“I never, ever want you to know either. Baby, you’ll never be alone,” Rooster whispered, “I’m here.”

“We’re having a baby…”

“We’re having a fucking baby…”

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note: i cleaned up my taglist. this is a reminder, if you’re a blank or ageless blog, you will not be tagged.

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bradshawswife · 9 months

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rereading this again because i absolutely love it — and having a partner that KNOWS you, makes all the difference !!!🥺

ebb and flow.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ description: sex is sometimes confusing for you to navigate, but bob floyd makes it easy.

￫ word count: 3.1K.

￫ c/w: mentions of shit sex, brief smut, p in v, f!oral receiving, f!masturbation, sex toys, daddy kink, swearing, kissing and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: this is a love note from me, to bob, to myself, and is a very real experience of me and my sexuality. i hope you enjoy! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

It’s not that you didn’t enjoy sex, you loved sex. You loved the feeling of having your most intimate places and private thoughts brought to life, in a sheltered and cocooned environment. You longed for the closeness and the touch of bodies, slick with sweat. You craved desperately, that feeling of letting go as you were connected to another person, but that was the catch. You craved it, you longed for it, you loved it, but it didn’t always mean that it happened.

If someone was to ask you if you had a high sex drive, you would say, “oh, yeah! I love sex.” And it’s true. You loved sexuality and you would have sex when you could, but it wouldn’t answer the question. Because truthfully, you didn’t know if you had a high sex drive. There was always something or someone, confusing you and making you doubt your own drive.

You masturbated frequently, but it was always with the help of pornography. At least then you could skip to the good bits that would make you orgasm. You couldn’t really do that in real life.

There was a previous partner who, once they finished, panted down at you, “did you come?”

When you sheepishly admitted that you hadn’t, they would scoff as they rolled off you.

“Sorry, I guess. My last girlfriend always used to come so quick. Just not used to going as long as you.”

On a separate occasion, a girl lifted her face up from between your legs with an irritated frown pinched between her brows.

“Are you close to coming?”

Sure, she was hitting the right spots and yes, it might’ve taken you a little longer than most to orgasm, but you felt that hoping and longing feeling of coming fizzle out entirely.

You gave her a sore smile. “It’s alright, let’s stop.”

Your last partner you were with for nearly a year and he was the first person to make you come relativity easily. He knew the sweet spots that were dotted around your body and he listened to what you were asking for, but still came the little complaints. The little comments that made your ribs restrict around your lungs and call it off.

You had both reached your highs and your cunt was still twitching for more. You meekly asked him, “do you think you could make me come again?” And his response made you call it off entirely.

“Again? But you take so long.”

The ache dulled painfully between your thighs.

After that partner, you lost any sort of sex drive for almost a year. But life continued to have an ebb and flow, and it bought you to Bob Floyd.

Bob had you bent over the back of your sofa with your sundress hitched around your waist and his flight suit barely off. He allowed a gap just big enough in between his zipper to free his aching cock and piston his hips against your ass.

He came home later than he had planned, due to running drills for what seemed to go on forever, because someone (Jake), had decided it would be funny to make a passing joke at Cyclone. He was far too exhausted to shower and change on the base, and he was already running late coming home to you. He didn’t want to waste another second. He drove home with his bruised and battered body, covered in a thick and musky scent of sweat underneath his flight suit. He had his hands on your hips and his mouth on your lips the moment you greeted him. Bob’s rough grunts and forceful movements of his body against yours, let you know he needed you, and he needed you now.

With not a second to spare, he was already shuddering behind you and letting out an elongated groan of your name, dowsed in relief. You could feel his heavy cock twitch inside your cunt and you moved with him, aching for your own relief. Your stomach was doing somersaults every time he nudged against the sweet spot inside of you. Bob smoothed his hands along your spine and drew down the hem of your sundress. He gently lifted you up and turned you around to face him, tucking his softening cock back inside of his flight suit. He wore a lopsided smile as he cradled your jaw, pressing his lips to yours and thanking you.

“I needed that. Comin’ home to you dressed like this? Oh, I’m the luckiest, God damn pilot.”

You offered him a reassuring smile and fiddled with the collar of his flight suit, running your fingertips over the stitches and inseams. “Do you think, you could—”

“Oh my darlin’ wife,” you felt Bob’s cool engagement ring press on your hot cheek as he drew you to look up at him. You were yet to be married, but he wasted no time in calling you his wife already. “You don’t even have to ask. It would be my pleasure.”

His pleasure. His pleasure.

It made butterflies swarm in your stomach and your cheeks turn an even rosier shade of pink. Bob always reminded you that it was never an inconvenience to him. He wanted to make you feel good, he wanted to make you come and he would happily stay in between your thighs for as long as you (or he), needed.

“C’ere, sweetheart.” You yelped out a squeal as Bob ran his forearms around your stomach and lifted you up to throw you over his shoulder with such little effort. You were a string of bubbling giggles as he carried you upstairs to your shared bedroom. He could’ve had you right here on the sofa, but he wanted to take you to your bedroom. He knew it was somewhere where you could feel safe being so exposed, feel vulnerable, let out your intimate thoughts.

Between hiccups of laughter, you would cry out, “Robert! Put me down!”

To which he would reply with a firm swat to your ass, and a defiant, “nope! My pretty lil’ bunny deserves princess treatment, do they not?”

He didn’t see how you bit down on your bottom lip, biting back your lovesick smile.

Your hips were hanging off the edge of your mattress, your frame bare and Bob’s hands holding your thighs open as his mouth was planted firmly on your pussy. He was devouring you like a four course meal. His tongue wouldn’t allow a single crease, or fold, to go amiss and he paid intricate detail to your clit. He would wrap his lips firmly around it and let his teeth sink gently in. The harsh suck of his mouth created shock waves, jolting through your abdomen and up your spine.

The pleasure he was providing you felt Heavenly, and you knew your sweet Bobby would never miss how your body reacted to his touch and register what he needed to do next. He was a WSO. Planning, co-ordination and pin point accuracy was his job. Yet, inside your mind, it was as though you were flicking through three hundred television channels at an alarming rate. You couldn’t find that one television show you wanted to watch. You couldn’t find Bob’s touch. And so, as your mind flicked through the channels, your thoughts tailed off with them.

“Fuck, should I of put the vegetables in the fridge? By the time we eat they might’ve gone funny. I must change the bedsheets tomorrow, it’s been… one, two… three weeks. God. I keep loosing track of these things. Maybe I should buy a planner. There was that really nice one you saw the other day. I wonder if Bob would like one too? We could have matching ones. Oh, don’t forget, message—”

“My love?”

The incessant channel flicking came to a stop and you were back to your Bobby in your bedroom. His face was dipped up from between your thighs and a glimmering sheen, mixed with his spit and your arousal, was coating his chin. His eyebrows were turned upwards in loving concern as he repeated his question.

“Are you okay?”

Your chest rose and fell with an exhausted groan. Your hands removed themselves from Bob’s now mused hair, and you ran them down your face. “I’m sorry, honey.” You muttered pathetically against your palms.

Bob now rose completely up from the floor of your bedroom and leant over your frame spread vulnerably on the bedsheets (that you urgently needed to change). He rested one toned forearm onto the mattress to consume your body against his. His other hand let his slender fingers intertwine with the loose strands of your hair that fell against your forehead.

“No, no, my darlin’,” Bob was pleading with you. His tone sounded desperate as he tried to reassure you, but his words were firm. After your multiple confessions of previous partners and their, choice of words, he took the weight of you finding pleasure with him high and mighty on his shoulders. He would never let you fall without him there to catch you gently in his undying arms.

“Please, don’t ever apologise. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m stayin’ right here with you ‘till I hear those pretty noises you make.” His lips curved into a troublesome smirk at the end. He slid his resting forearm under your back to lift you up off the mattress, and steadily sat you upright incase the blood had all but flowed from your head.

“Shall we move ourselves?” He suggested and you agreed, but before you could speak your agreement, he was already way ahead of you and pulling out the wicker chair from the corner of your room and situating it in-front of your long standing mirror.

“I’ve got an idea, one that I know, you’ll like.” The same troublesome smirk was etched onto his face as he guided you over to the chair. “Do you want me to get you one of your toys?”

You hummed in delightful agreement. “Please, get the black one.”

Bob retrieved the slick black vibrator from the bottom drawer of your dresser and sat himself on the chair. He held onto your waist as he maneuvered you to sit on his lap. His broad hands ran along the underside of your thighs to pick them up gingerly, and rest them over the arms of the chair. His forearm, with his muscles bulging and veins protruding, was locked tightly around your torso to keep you firmly pressed up against his bare chest. His other hand that was holding the sleek vibrator, came down to rest haphazardly on your thigh.

You were fully exposed to yourself, Bob and your mirror. With his firm, but gentle hold on your body, you had no real wriggle room and you were to take whatever sensation he was about to provide you. That made your cunt twitch. Perhaps the flicking through the television channels was about to come to a stop. You’d found your Bobby and his pleasurable touch.

Your head was resting on his shoulder and you felt his plush cheek rub against your temple, feeling his baby hairs catch on yours. And then his lips were warm against your ear. A tickling sensation prickling down your earlobe and along your neck as he spoke.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

“Good girl.”

There was a quiet snicker from Bob in your ear as your breath hitched at his words. With his arm wrapped around you, he could feel every intricate detail and twitch of your frame against his. He pressed his thumb down on the top of the vibrator and it whirred to life. A steady and low buzz hummed throughout your bedroom. He placed the tip to your thigh and you involuntarily twitched.

“‘member, I’m stayin’ here with you. I ain’t leavin’ you, my darling.” You locked eyes with him through the reflection of your mirror and you nodded against his shoulder, his movements along your thigh continuing.

“Keep your eyes focused, right here, baby.” His own gaze returned to where his hand was trialing with the vibrations further down your thigh and into the apex of your cunt. With the lightest of touches he pressed the tip to your swollen clit and a sudden gasp escaped your throat without even registering it. He pressed the tip down for five seconds or so, before removing it and letting your pussy become a customized to the feeling.

He repeated this motion several times, as he listened intently to how your little moans and gasps became more frequent. Alongside that, his gaze never left your reflection. He let your own eyes flutter open and shut as your body reeled with the sensations, but he was there to intimately gage what you needed next. He dragged the vibrating tip down through your folds and glided along the other, not so sensitive, but still incredibly important, areas of pleasure. He would draw the vibrator back upwards and let it catch on your clit before pinpointing it firmly on the swollen bundle. Each time he repeated this motion, your body withered continuously under his grasp. You let your skull lull back completely onto his shoulder and you weren’t holding back any longer on your moans.

“Feels s’ good, Bobby.” You croaked out with a moan.

He parted his fixated gaze from your squirming frame for only a moment, to allow his lips to fall underneath your earlobe. He nimbly let his teeth graze over your tender flesh and tug at it, before his tongue would soothe over the spot.

“I know, pretty darlin’, I know.” Bob cooed quietly into your ear. A shudder was jolted down your spine and tickled at your nerve endings. His drawl was getting huskier in your ear and your fingertips were digging so hard into his forearm, you were sure they would leave little crescent marks from your nails.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, Bunny. Do you wanna take a look? Do you wanna see how Daddy is making my pretty little clit jump?”

Your eyes fluttered open to peer at the sight before you. Your hips jolted forward as he pressed the vibrator with pin point accuracy on where you needed it most.

“Robert!” You whined out. “Fuckfuckfuck…”

“Is that it, m’love? Is that the spot?” You pursed your lips together and nodded feverishly. You found his gaze again in the mirror and his cock twitched beneath you at the sight of your pleading eyes, with a glaze of tears brimming in your eyes. He gently pushed his cheek against your temple again to motion at you.

“C’mon, Bunny. Don’t hold back. Let those pretty little sounds out. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

He pressed the vibrator on the same sweet spot and let your hips buck upwards to chase the feeling. Your lips parted and a desperate cry tore from your throat. Your voice wobbled as you begged him.

“Please, please, please. Oh God, Daddy! Don’t fuckin’ stop, right there, ‘lease…” You trailed off with pleas as your mind zoned in on the one television channel that was about to bring you crashing off the edge.

Bob watched you with intent through the reflection of the mirror. His cock was shamelessly getting harder underneath you. Right now, in this very moment, in this captured time within the universe, he wanted nothing more than to watch you fall apart in his lap. It was his pleasure as much as it was yours.

“Oh that’s it,” His voice was guiding you through it, coaxing you closer to the edge that you would inevitably fall off. “Good girl. Daddy’s gon’ stay right here, keep toyin’ with my clit.”

“I’m gon’ come, Bobby! Oh God, I’m gonna—” Your jaw went slack and a silent, wordless cry was all that tore from your throat. You were unable to form anything. Not a single thought or word as pleasure tore through you.

“Go on, my baby. Come for me.” Bob was there to take control of your mercy towards him. As you felt the warm burst of your orgasm strike through your clit and up your abdomen, you followed with a broken whine. Your hips were uncontrollably bucking and squirming against Bob’s grip and against the vibrator, that he kept nestled deep within your soaked folds. Your hands reached upwards and behind to grip tightly onto his neck, finding anything to keep yourself stable against the powerful release that was currently coursing through your veins.

“That’s it, Bunny. Keep goin’ for me, you’re doin’ so, so good. Such a good girl f’ me.”

Your thighs were now thrashing against the wicker and Bob made a mental note to soothe them later with cream. He let you move against him with free will as broken sobs left your lips. He continually moved the vibrator as you flowed through your orgasm, letting you soak up every inch of pleasure that he was providing you. He knew how badly you needed this release, and how his patience towards you was something that you treasured with every squirm of your body against his.

He could feel the tensing of your muscles soothe and slow down with each second that passed. Eventually, he gently trailed the vibrator off your twitching clit and back along your thigh, to continue the dying sensation for just that little bit longer. He pressed down the button on top of the vibrator and the humming sound came to a stop. All that could be heard was your pants of hot air bouncing off the bedroom walls. He let the vibrator fall to the floor so he could bring his hand up to smooth over your flesh. He gently ran his fingertips through your folds and let you twitch a little more in his lap, as he collected your arousal. It was like nectar to Bob. There was no sweeter sensation to him than feeling you pool on his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, Bunny?” He splayed out his hand to cup your pussy and gently squeeze it. It was a comforting warmth under his touch and it pulsated against his calloused palm on its own accord.

You let your hands drop from his neck and rest on his forearms, feeling out the familiar shape of your lover. “Y— yes. I’m your good girl, Daddy.” Your voice was weak, but Bob hummed quietly in your ear as he heard you.

“T— thank you, Bobby.” When you spoke again, he shushed you as to reassure and console you. His fingers were tracing repeated patterns over your thighs.

“You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I do this all for you, ‘cause I love you s’ deeply.” He nuzzled his nose against your frightfully warm cheek and let you contentedly bathe in the swirling feeling of the afterglow.

It was a feeling that you had so rarely experienced before, but Bob was there to always make it feel as though you were swimming in a lake made out of the moon and stars.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloyds @bradshawsbitch @peachystenbrough @lewmagoo @sugarcoated-lame @sushiwriterhere

#robert bob floyd #screaming #the way my boyfriend and bobby are the same person #i got sooo lucky

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bradshawswife · 9 months

Text

I can’t find her blog, so i’m hoping it’s been dealt with. Thanks to everyone who tagged me!

Hey y’all!

@desert-fern reached a few of y’all before she got banned so I am just passing on the message! See below!

Send any questions to @ferns-fics !

Regarding the stolen moodboards/banners/headers posted on Pinterest earlier this week.

Through a lot of digging and searching, I think I have finally found the Tumblr account responsible for the theft. I attempted to notify as many of you as possible before posting this, rather having multiple people post it for me, but Tumblr glitched and fucked up and I’m now shadowbanned for trying to make sure that everyone affected knew . So if I am not replying to your messages, that is why.

I will not link the account here, solely because I do not want them to be made aware of my post until later, but I can’t control y’all, so do whatever you want.

The account goes by elisestarksblog.

I am tagging just a few of the accounts affected by this person below.

Love,

desert-fern 🌿

@bradshawsbitch

@bradshawsbaby

@teacupsandtopgun

@ereardon

@blue-aconite

@footprintsinthesxnd

@ryebecca

@roosterbruiser

@ohtobeleah

@callsignmeiga

@sebsxphia

@rhettabbotts

@jupitercomet

@mothdruid

@bobfloydsbabe

@cockslutpadalecki

@ayorooster

@seresinhangmanjake

@kryptonitejelly

@bradshawswife

@barbiewritesstuff

@fanboygarcia

@topgun-imagines

@babyrooster

@sweetlittlegingy

@fandomxpreferences

@sunlightmurdock

@roosterscockpit / @milesdickpic

@tongue-like-a-razor

@jakeseresins

@fuckyeahhangman

@seresinsbabe

@roosterscock

@tip-top-cloud-surfer

@hangmanapologist

@biteofcherry

@myfaveficrecs

@wildbornsiren

@discount-shades

@seresinsweetie

@beyondthesefourwalls

@notroosterbradshaw

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bradshawswife · 9 months

Photo

happy Thursday the 20th

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bradshawswife · 9 months

Text

ebb and flow.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ description: sex is sometimes confusing for you to navigate, but bob floyd makes it easy.

￫ word count: 3.1K.

￫ c/w: mentions of shit sex, brief smut, p in v, f!oral receiving, f!masturbation, sex toys, daddy kink, swearing, kissing and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: this is a love note from me, to bob, to myself, and is a very real experience of me and my sexuality. i hope you enjoy! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

You masturbated frequently, but it was always with the help of pornography. At least then you could skip to the good bits that would make you orgasm. You couldn’t really do that in real life.

There was a previous partner who, once they finished, panted down at you, “did you come?”

When you sheepishly admitted that you hadn’t, they would scoff as they rolled off you.

“Sorry, I guess. My last girlfriend always used to come so quick. Just not used to going as long as you.”

On a separate occasion, a girl lifted her face up from between your legs with an irritated frown pinched between her brows.

“Are you close to coming?”

Sure, she was hitting the right spots and yes, it might’ve taken you a little longer than most to orgasm, but you felt that hoping and longing feeling of coming fizzle out entirely.

You gave her a sore smile. “It’s alright, let’s stop.”

You had both reached your highs and your cunt was still twitching for more. You meekly asked him, “do you think you could make me come again?” And his response made you call it off entirely.

“Again? But you take so long.”

The ache dulled painfully between your thighs.

After that partner, you lost any sort of sex drive for almost a year. But life continued to have an ebb and flow, and it bought you to Bob Floyd.

“I needed that. Comin’ home to you dressed like this? Oh, I’m the luckiest, God damn pilot.”

You offered him a reassuring smile and fiddled with the collar of his flight suit, running your fingertips over the stitches and inseams. “Do you think, you could—”

His pleasure. His pleasure.

Between hiccups of laughter, you would cry out, “Robert! Put me down!”

To which he would reply with a firm swat to your ass, and a defiant, “nope! My pretty lil’ bunny deserves princess treatment, do they not?”

He didn’t see how you bit down on your bottom lip, biting back your lovesick smile.

“My love?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve got an idea, one that I know, you’ll like.” The same troublesome smirk was etched onto his face as he guided you over to the chair. “Do you want me to get you one of your toys?”

You hummed in delightful agreement. “Please, get the black one.”

“You comfortable, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

“Good girl.”

“Feels s’ good, Bobby.” You croaked out with a moan.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, Bunny. Do you wanna take a look? Do you wanna see how Daddy is making my pretty little clit jump?”

Your eyes fluttered open to peer at the sight before you. Your hips jolted forward as he pressed the vibrator with pin point accuracy on where you needed it most.

“Robert!” You whined out. “Fuckfuckfuck…”

“C’mon, Bunny. Don’t hold back. Let those pretty little sounds out. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

He pressed the vibrator on the same sweet spot and let your hips buck upwards to chase the feeling. Your lips parted and a desperate cry tore from your throat. Your voice wobbled as you begged him.

“That’s it, Bunny. Keep goin’ for me, you’re doin’ so, so good. Such a good girl f’ me.”

“T— thank you, Bobby.” When you spoke again, he shushed you as to reassure and console you. His fingers were tracing repeated patterns over your thighs.

It was a feeling that you had so rarely experienced before, but Bob was there to always make it feel as though you were swimming in a lake made out of the moon and stars.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloyds @bradshawsbitch @peachystenbrough @lewmagoo @sugarcoated-lame @sushiwriterhere

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