Roo - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
hi! would you write rooster giving his shy girl cuddles when she's on her period and feeling lonely? thank you <333
anon how did you know this is me rn? so, for you (but also me): you get your period for the first time since you've started seeing rooster and he is just like, the best ever | fluff, fem!reader, 1.4k
The dull ache in your abdomen wakes you earlier than you'd like for a Saturday. You blindly reach for your phone and check the time and then the date -- ugh. Yeah, it's about time for your period.
Mercifully you have not bled on your sheets so you sort yourself out and change from comfy pjs to comfy clothes and resign yourself to a lonely day on the couch. The first few days are always the hardest on you -- you feel sluggish and bloated and tend not to do anything if you can help it.
But lately, your life has taken on a kind of shine you're still getting used to. The biggest thing is the guy you've been seeing: Bradley. It's been just shy of a month and you see him every few days. You've met his aviator friends and he's stayed over at your place once, you at his a few times. He's funny and kind and so handsome and you hope that it changes from "seeing each other" to something more official soon.
That's what stops you from texting him. Maybe if he was officially your boyfriend you'd ask him to pick up some stuff and come over, but you feel shy about doing it for some reason. So you wrap yourself in the sweatshirt he left at your place and settle on the couch to watch something that'll probably make you cry.
Then your phone chirps.
rooster: are you busy today? do you want to walk the boardwalk? i'll buy ice cream : )
Something in your chest starts to ache. You'd mentioned wanting to take advantage of the weather and try the new ice cream shop that opened up by the water.
you: not feeling great today : ( rain check?
Your screen changes a second later, Bradley's contact photo taking over as he calls you. It's a selfie he took on your phone when you were in the bathroom. Oh, you think. Why is he calling you?
"Hi," you say. It sounds a little pathetic.
"Hey," he replies. You imagine him at his place, maybe fresh from his morning run, brows drawn based on the concern in his voice. "Are you okay?"
He's calling because you said you were sick? You don't really know what to do with that. "Yeah, just woke up feeling off. I'm sorry about not going to the boardwalk today."
He hums down the line. "Don't apologize, silly," he says. "Do you need anything? I can get anything you want from the store and bring it over. Do you have lemons? My mom swore by lemon tea when she wasn't feeling great --"
Bradley goes on about the things he could get you at the pharmacy and you feel like laughing and crying at the same time. He's known you for less than a month and he's calling to see if you're alright. God, you think. I could love him someday.
Maybe that's why you just blurt it out, embarrassment tingling in your cheeks. "Bradley," you say, and he stops talking. "I'm not like, sick sick. I just...have my period and feel blah."
Something rustles like he's shifting the phone from one ear to the other. "Oh, sweetheart," he says. He's never called you that before. Your name, yes, and shortened versions of it, yes, but a pet name? Not really. You love it. "I can still buy you stuff for that. You might have to send me pictures of the brands you use, though, because there are so damn many in the aisle."
You will not cry. That would be very cliche of you, and frankly, this is what every girl deserves. But damn if your heart doesn't feel like it's bursting.
"You don't need to buy me anything," you say, softly. You will your shyness away. "But uh, if you don't mind sitting on the couch with a kind of grumpy girl watching nature documentaries all day, you could come over?"
"I absolutely do not mind doing that," he says and you feel like you can hear his smile. "I'll be over in an hour?"
It feels big, somehow, him coming over because you're on your period and feel like shit. Thus far you've spent time together doing things -- going to the Hard Deck or out to eat and, a few times so far, learning each other in bed. You haven't really had a lazy day.
So when he knocks, you slide in your socks to the door maybe a little too fast for the ache you feel all over. You forget that you're in ratty shorts and his sweatshirt until you open the door and he looks you up and down.
"Hi," he says. "Cute." You tug on the sleeves and scrunch up your nose, moving aside to let him in. It's then that you notice he's carrying a bag from the pharmacy.
"Bradley, I said you didn't have to buy anything." He toes off his shoes and shoots you an incredulous look.
"Well, don't get too excited," he says. "I didn't know what flavor of stuff you like so I went kind of basic. I can go get more if you hate all of it."
He sets the bag on your counter and starts to unpack it. You watch him as he does -- damp hair like he showered before he came, workout shorts and a t-shirt that looks oh-so-soft. The scars on his face stand out with his recent tan and you find one you haven't noticed before on his neck. It's fun, the newness of what you have. You're still learning him.
The counter is now full of various ice creams and sweet snacks, as well as some pain medication and...a lemon. "What is your favorite flavor, anyway?" he says, packing the cartons into your freezer.
You tell him and he taps his temple like he's storing it. "I'll remember next time."
Next time.
"Bradley," you mutter. He hears you, turning his head and shutting the freezer. "Thank you for coming over and bringing this stuff."
His eyes go soft and smiles your favorite Bradley smile so far -- it's soft, tender, pleased. "Of course," he says, reaching for you. You take a step and meet him halfway. One big hand tangles with yours and the other cups your jaw, thumb moving slowly over the skin of your cheek. "Thanks for letting me," he adds. He knows that you get shy, that you're still getting to know the private parts of each other.
He kisses you softly and you sigh into his mouth until a wave of cramps hits and you wince. Bradley pulls away with concern on his face until he puts it together. "Sorry," you say. He hushes you.
"Let me make you some of that lemon tea and then we can sit on the couch? I seem to remember you mentioning nature documentaries?" He taps your chin with a knuckle when you nod.
"I like the sound of that," you say.
You try to stay upright as you wait, you really do. But the cramps are coming in waves and you're tired, so you end up horizontal on the couch by the time Bradley brings over the mug.
"Oh," he says, frowning. "Do you want some meds?"
You shake your head. You already took some before he arrived. He puts the mug on your table and cracks his knuckles. The movement gives you an idea.
"Bradley," you say. "I have an idea." He sits on the edge of the couch and puts his hand on your knee.
"Anything."
"Your hands..." you swallow. The shyness creeps up your throat but you persevere. "If you put them here --" you pat your abdomen -- "they'd be like a heating pad."
"Say no more," he says. "Scoot." Bradley actually does all the arranging, settling himself between you and the back of the couch. Your legs tangle and he hooks his chin over your shoulder. "Here?" he asks, putting his hand over the waistband of your shorts.
"Yeah, almost." You can already feel the heat radiating from him and you move his palm so it's on your bare skin under your top, a few fingers sneaking under the waistband of your shorts. It should be sexy, honestly, and while it is intimate, more than anything it's comfortable. "Perfect," you sigh. It really is. He really is.
Bradley relaxes behind you and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Good," he says. "Now let's watch some badass shit about monkeys or something."
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!
Comfort Back Home, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw
Summary: As strong as Bradley can be, he feels miserable from time to time. This is the first time he crumbles in front of you.
Short (900ws), cute drabble for baby Bradshaw
Being the best upcoming aviator in the Navy has to be stressful, you think, and yet Bradley had handled it like a champ up until recently.
He’s always done everything by himself, and although behind closed doors he would let frustrated tears out, around people he would always show the confident and happy side of himself.
If not, he still kept himself relatively calm for when he was alone, not wanting to come off as vulnerable to others (mostly Hangman).
But, there’s always a breaking point. Since you had been around him during the deployment at Top Gun with Maverick, and you’d seen him react fairly well (apart from some quieter days and a snapping attitude from time to time), you’d think it would take him a bigger obstacle to completely break down.
And yet, all it took was a minimal fuck up in the air during training, and he’s now knocking on your flat looking like a beaten up puppy, blood-red eyes and shuffled hair. You heart tightens in concern gazing up at him, usually big and strong, looking small in an oversized hoodie that was his father’s.
“Baby…”, you whisper, a hand slowly rising for the instinct of giving him a comforting touch, but stopping midway to check if he’s okay with that. He has the strength to smile at your respect for him as he nods.
When your warm hand makes contact with his burning cheek, he takes a few seconds to close his eyes and the moment the irises disappear, a tear runs down his cheek.
You move in a heartbeat and yet somehow still slowly to not startle him from the bliss he’s feeling now. You keep one hand on his face, while curling the other around his waist to move him inside, and then close the door.
“Bradley,” you try, now both hands on his neck, thumbs overlapping a few stressed veins there. He opens his eyes, and you’re met with a thunderstorm of emotions that make you want to cry out in agony.
You recognize all of it. The pain, the worry, the bad thoughts, the lack of strength, the fear of being so lost and powerless all of a sudden. You know because you’ve experienced that as well. And seeing it on him, recognizing how much pain he’s in right now really destroys you. It’s the last thing you want for him. You want him to be the careless side of him all the time, cocky smiles and silly chokes. You try your best to do your side of what you can, and although you knew at one point it had to happen, it still grumbles your grounds.
You try to think fast, and doing that you can feel a hint of panic starting to make its way inside you. Fearing you’re not what he needs right now because you’re incapable of helping him in this situation, when he needs you the most. You can feel all your insecurities trying to take over you, but Bradley is your priority, his desperate eyes begging you to gain the power he's lost right now. All your memories with him calm you down and, at the same time, give you strength, and you know what to do.
You take off of his shoulder the training bag from work, and then slot your fingers in his hand and slowly, carefully, you bring him in front of the couch and staying there as he sits. He goes to drag you down with him but you restrain, silently asking him with your eyes to trust you with your thing.
You nudge his legs open with your knee and slot in between them, standing a few feet taller in front of him, his head leveled with your chest. Smiling reassuringly, you embrace his neck with both arms and lay his head on your chest, right between your breasts, his nose nuzzling on your right one, and eyes closed in bliss.
You whisper sweet nothings to him. Words of affirmation you know he needs. You tell him how much you missed him during the day. How much you thought of him. How needed he is in your life, how essential he is. You lightly sway left and right, in a silent lullaby, while calling him pet names you know he loves. He takes a few minutes to connect fully after a well deserved, love-ignited black out, and moves fast to wrap his arms around the low of your thighs. You feel his gratitude in the kiss he gives your breast followed by a content smile.
"My Baby," you say blissfully and, at one, he lets all loose.
He cries, tears damping your shirt and you couldn’t care less. you're cooing at him in understanding, though you know they’re not sad tears. They are of relief. He feels like all his worries just disappeared under those words, and he can’t believe it happened after a whole day they weighted on his shoulders.
You both don’t make a sign to move.
“Whenever I am sad, feeling you caging me like this brings me back to Earth. Makes me feel safe, knowing there’s someone bigger than my insecurities believing in me, helping me take those away. I wanted to do it for you too, baby. I’m sorry today was stressful, but I’m bigger than the bad things you thought of yourself throughout today. I am here always, at the end, and I’ll remind you of all the good things you’ve done and felt. And I’ll be with you when you feel like crying to fight for you, yeah?”
He nods against your body, arms tightening around you as few more sleepy kisses are left on the valley of your breasts.
You’re Safe Baby
Anonymous asked:
hey can u do a rooster one shot where o/c is having a panic attack because of a mission and rooster helps her and calms her down? they are dating btw. thank u sm
Warnings: PTSD, Panic Attacks, Language
Quick bonus references!
The Song
Masterlist
Bradley being the supportive boyfriend he is helps his girlfriend overcome her panic attack and remind her she is safe.
Hearing the words bird strike over the radio sent her into a panic. She could only think of the mission two years ago, where they lost two good aviators. The room began spinning as she frantically looked for the quickest exit. All she could think of was how she hadn’t been able to help then and couldn’t now. The sounds of panic on the radio were making the situation worse. She was stuck in the past, and it terrified her. She wasn’t sure where Bradley was, but she heard Hangman shout his name.
“Shit…honey, listen to me! Hangman, you stay here. I got her.” He said, scooping her into his arms and sprinting towards the locker room. The sobs reached by the time they reached the hallway, and she could feel herself struggling to breathe.
“Baby, listen to me; it’s alright. I’m here…just listen to my voice, okay?” He quickly opened his locker and pulled out his phone, putting on the playlist he made for her when she had panic attacks. They had learned from a friend that music helped. Hitting play, Sea of Simulation from the Tron Legacy soundtrack began playing as he turned it up.
“Shhh…you’re safe baby, here let’s breathe in together and breathe out…good focus on the music. That’s it, deep breath. That’s my girl. Can you do me a favor, baby? Name three things you see. What can you see, baby?” After his own first panic attack years ago, he learned as many methods as he could, and his go-to was the three threes. She looked around the room and took a deep breath.
“I see you…I see…the lockers…I see the showers.” She whispered, making him smile as he nodded.
“You know what I see? I see you too, baby. I see the bench there and the bulletin board behind you. Now, what are three things you can hear?” She took another breath, whimpering as she briefly had a mental flashback of the mission. “Come on, baby, you got this. You are doing so well. What can you hear?” He asked as he gently wiped away her tears.
“I hear your voice…the music and…and…the clock.” He gave her another smile and nodded.
“You know what I hear? I hear your voice too, baby, and the music too, and I hear that old AC unit. Think it’s older than your Dad?” She gave him an almost smile and laugh as she continued to match his breathing. “Now, can you move three parts of your body for me?” She nodded, and he smiled.
“Make that two parts of your body then, pretty girl.” She wiggled her fingers against his chest and wrapped her arms around him. “There you go, that was three, neck, fingers, and arms. Now my turn, pretty girl.” He shifted his leg from a bent position to straight, then tilted her chin up and kissed her, then rested his forehead against hers.
“Moved my leg, arm, and my lips.” She gave a soft smile as she looked at him with teary eyes. “Shh, I hate when you cry, sweetheart, c’mere you are safe. And I know that Nat and Bob will be safe too.” There was a gentle knock on the door as the two looked up and saw Hangman make his way into the locker room.
“Phoenix and Bob are okay. They have a few bruises, but they are fine. You two good?” The blond said as he took in the sight of them sitting on the floor.
“Yeah, we are good. And see what I tell you. Phoenix and Bob are safe. You know how tough Nat is. And you know she wouldn’t let anything happen to Bob. Do you want to go see for yourself?” He asked as she nodded. What happened two years ago had been a freak accident. Two aviators had been lost, but not today. Today was a different day. Both were fine, accidents happen, but they don’t always end badly.
“Thank you…” She whispered as she held Bradley close, sniffling as he wiped her tears.
“You don’t have to thank me, pretty girl. You’ve done the same for me. But tell you what, you want to make it up to me; gimme one of those smiles I love. Ah, that’s the one.” He said when she smiled up at him.
Happy birthday to our princess Roo!!
Smol moodboard - Pooh Bear Halloween 🎃🐻🍯
Watched Christopher Robin with Mum recently. We both grew up watching Winnie the Pooh so we both loved the movie (Eeyore being our favorite).