Bradley Bradshaw Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts
Danger Meter
▪︎Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader
▪︎Pronouns: She/Her [Fem! Reader]
▪︎Warnings: Language and probably some inaccuracies
▪︎Genre: Soulmate au! Angst and fluff
▪︎Synopsis: Your soulmate rarely seems to be out of the High risk zone according to your mark, which makes you worry. Oh well— you already know the same goes for him.
▪︎Status: Completed
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six
》 Main Masterlist
ATTENTION ROOSTER NATION!!!!!! okay so im looking for this fic about rooster where yn's call sign is rebel and mav's daughter and they were like super close and rooster like ghosted her after mac pulled his paper. flash forward to now they meet again and slowly reconcile and shes super close w coyote. anyway someone please help bc i cant find it
Rooster x reader where hes just absolutely whipped from this woman, completely wrapped around her finger and hangman and stuff finds it fucking hilarious.
Bradley joins his friends barefoot, with a pink purse slung over his shoulder.
"Rooster," Coyote looks him up and down, sees the pom-pom keychain dangling from the bag, "You look.. different."
"It's like you joined a hippie ring and a cheerleading squad all at once," Natasha snorts against the mouth of her beer bottle.
Bob doesn't tease him about the purse that he sets down beside the man on the bench, but he does give it an odd sort of stare-down.
"Bradshaw," Jake drawls, "If you need a bag, next time just ask me. I've got a thousand shitty drawstring ones from the marathons I jog."
Of course, Bradley thinks, Hangman brags. But no matter how many marathons Jake has stormed his way through, he's the real winner.
"This is my girlfriend's," Bradley drawls, taking particular satisfaction in the way that Jake's face pales, "She's taking pictures of the sunset. And her shoes were giving her a blister, so she borrowed mine, thank you very much."
"'Surprised you didn't swap shoes with her," Hangman recovers, sneering at Bradley's bare, sandy feet, "What was she wearing, heels?"
"Wedges," Bradley grunts, "And if you even think about messing with her, I'll wedge one up your ass."
B. Bradshaw | Masterlist
Top Gun - Maverick
Updated: 9/29/2024 [link check]
!!authors!! if u want something removed plz pm me 💕 ily
Hi!!! So? This is it! I've been continuously cringing at myself for even making the first search for this the other day but I did. I ended up falling down a rabbit hole full of incredible fics written by some incredible people so I hope you give it a look. No need to judge me, I'm already judging myself T-T.
peace!
PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well
fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️
Series
☆ ALTITUDE | @tongue-like-a-razor
13 chapters | on hold | 🌧️🤍
Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.
☆ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? | @perpetuallydaydreaming
12 chapters | complete | 🤍🌧️🍋
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and you have been friends since you can remember, just friends (unfortunately) but when you are called back to Top Gun everything changes...
☆ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | @feralforfrank
3 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋
Rooster and you have never liked each other. One night at the Hard Deck is enough to change the dynamic between you.
☆ IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY | @bloatedandalone04
4 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋
The one where you give Bradley your heart and he breaks it.
☆ FAKING IT | @tongue-like-a-razor
8 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍
Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.
☆ AT LEAST I LET THE LIGHT IN | @heartsofminds
1 chapter | on hold (?) | 🌧️‼️
Bradley is on a downward spiral and Natasha doesn't know how much more she can take - unofficial sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you (linked here)
☆ DRUNK IN LOVE / DRUNK IN LOVE | @feralforfrank
2 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍
Rooster brings a drunk!reader to his house. What happens when you wake up in bed with Rooster, your sworn rival?
☆ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME | @beyondthesefourwalls
13 chapters | complete | 🌧️‼️‼️
You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could ever truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him in for a kiss, he thought maybe it was a perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply wanting it.
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE read the warnings carefully before reading this story!!
☆ REMEMBER YOU EVEN WHEN I DON'T | @beyondthesefourwalls
10 chapters | complete | 🤍🍋🌧️
A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting right beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement
☆ HOTTER THAN TEXAS | @tongue-like-a-razor
3 chapters | ongoing | 🤍
Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.
Oneshots
☆ BRAD BRAD | @peterparkersnose
wc: 1.9k | 🤍🌧️
teasing, intimidation, situationship coming to a close, ANGST, mentions of death and dealing with death, rooster is in denial of looove, fluff at the end
Rooster gets upset when a harmless joke crosses the line.
☆ "YOU TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THEM" | @katsu28
wc: 1.3k | request | 🌧️🤍
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x aviator!reader, callsign casper (like the ghost hehe), some swearing
Rooster gets upset when pilot hazing goes too far
☆ LOVE IN THE DARK | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 2.8k | 🌧️
swearing, angst, sad boy bradley, lowkey depressed reader, more angst bc im sick and unhappy about it, new theme
The one where the deployments become too much.
☆ WHEN I PICTURE MYSELF HAPPY, I SEE YOU | @feralforfrank
wc: idk loll | prompt | 🌧️🤍
angst with a happy ending, miscommunication trope (?), nondescriptive reader
Rooster and reader fight, but they make up in their own way.
☆ "THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT" | @katsu28
wc: 1.7k | request | 🌧️
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, some swearing, angst
You miss Bradley so much while he's away, in trying to communicate this to him, lines get crossed and emotions rise.
☆ CRUMBLE | @daddy-bradley
wc: idk | 🌧️🤍
angst, cursing, mentions of parental insecurity, depression, anxiety, has a happy ending
You and Bradley are having your first fight after your baby is born. How will you both come to a solution and learn to cope through this together.
☆ 'CAUSE NO ONE BREAKS MY HEART LIKE YOU | @heartsofminds
wc: 19k | 🌧️‼️
heavy angst, miscommunication, heartbreak, right person wrong universe type shit, slow burn angst, disrespect towards women, drinking, bradley is a dick
Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though its hard to see)
☆ MIDNIGHT RAIN | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 3.6k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️
fluff, smut, angst, oral (f receiving), mentions/descriptions of bad past relationships, mentions of abuse, past abuse, toxic ex, trauma?, bad coping habits, arguments, crying, swearing
The one where Bradley is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, but even he cant fully erase the bad memories of your last relationship.
☆ THINGS UNSEEN AND HEARD | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 4.1k | 🍋🌧️🤍
smut, angst, fluff, obvious bradley insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption, maybe more
The one where you overhear Bradley talk about you to Jake and decide to give him the space he apparently wanted.
☆ THE STACHE INCIDENT | @feralforfrank
wc: no clue | drabble | 🤍
tooth rotting fluff, its honestly tragic
the title says all you need to know
☆ WHO DID THIS TO YOU? | @feralforfrank
wc: i dunno | 🌧️🤍
accidental injury (reader got hit in the face), crying, nondescript reader
It’s a drabble, I cant say much…
☆ THE ZIPPER INCIDENT | @tongue-like-a-razor
wc: i honestly, truly, don’t know | request | 🌧️🤍
fluff, angst, swearing, a pinch of smut, you stand up your date, which is shitty of you, but it’s probably worth it
You’re running late and you need help zipping up your dress. After recovering from the initial shock of seeing you all dolled up, Rooster is more than happy to assist.
☆ SLEEPYHEAD | @roosterbruiser
wc: *shrugs* | blurb | 🤍
tooth-rotting fluff, sleepy bradley
just read it goddamnit 🥹
☆ PERMANENT STATE OF OBLIVION | @topgun-imagines
wc: 3.2k | request | 🌧️🤍
drinking, arguments, angsty feelings
Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the hard deck.
taglist sign up
ⓒ onehopelessromantic, September 2024
the fact that it hasnt even been 24 hours since i created this post and i already added 5 new fics is mildly unhealthy.
you can also tell that i clicked on these authors masterlists, and literally read down the list… whoops?
fics added: midnight rain, things unseen and heard, the stache incident, who did this to you?, drunk in love / drunk in love
B. Bradshaw | Masterlist
Top Gun - Maverick
Updated: 7/29/2024 [masterlist created!]
!!authors!! if u want something removed plz pm me 💕 ily
Hi!!! So? This is it! I've been continuously cringing at myself for even making the first search for this the other day but I did. I ended up falling down a rabbit hole full of incredible fics written by some incredible people so I hope you give it a look. No need to judge me, I'm already judging myself T-T.
peace!
fluff -> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️
Series
☆ ALTITUDE | @tongue-like-a-razor
13 chapters | on hold | 🌧️🤍
Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.
☆ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? | @perpetuallydaydreaming
12 chapters | complete | 🤍🌧️🍋
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and you have been friends since you can remember, just friends (unfortunately) but when you are called back to Top Gun everything changes...
☆ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | @feralforfrank
3 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋
Rooster and you have never liked each other. One night at the Hard Deck is enough to change the dynamic between you.
☆ IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY | @bloatedandalone04
4 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋
The one where you give Bradley your heart and he breaks it.
☆ FAKING IT | @tongue-like-a-razor
8 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍
Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.
☆ AT LEAST I LET THE LIGHT IN | @heartsofminds
1 chapter | on hold (?) | 🌧️‼️
Bradley is on a downward spiral and Natasha doesn't know how much more she can take - unofficial sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you (linked here)
☆ DRUNK IN LOVE / DRUNK IN LOVE | @feralforfrank
2 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍
Rooster brings a drunk!reader to his house. What happens when you wake up in bed with Rooster, your sworn rival?
Oneshots
☆ BRAD BRAD | @peterparkersnose
wc: 1.9k | 🤍🌧️
teasing, intimidation, situationship coming to a close, ANGST, mentions of death and dealing with death, rooster is in denial of looove, fluff at the end
Rooster gets upset when a harmless joke crosses the line.
☆ "YOU TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THEM" | @katsu28
wc: 1.3k | request | 🌧️🤍
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x aviator!reader, callsign casper (like the ghost hehe), some swearing
Rooster gets upset when pilot hazing goes too far
☆ LOVE IN THE DARK | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 2.8k | 🌧️
swearing, angst, sad boy bradley, lowkey depressed reader, more angst bc im sick and unhappy about it, new theme
The one where the deployments become too much.
☆ WHEN I PICTURE MYSELF HAPPY, I SEE YOU | @feralforfrank
wc: idk loll | prompt | 🌧️🤍
angst with a happy ending, miscommunication trope (?), nondescriptive reader
Rooster and reader fight, but they make up in their own way.
☆ "THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT" | @katsu28
wc: 1.7k | request | 🌧️
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, some swearing, angst
You miss Bradley so much while he's away, in trying to communicate this to him, lines get crossed and emotions rise.
☆ CRUMBLE | @daddy-bradley
wc: idk | 🌧️🤍
angst, cursing, mentions of parental insecurity, depression, anxiety, has a happy ending
You and Bradley are having your first fight after your baby is born. How will you both come to a solution and learn to cope through this together.
☆ 'CAUSE NO ONE BREAKS MY HEART LIKE YOU | @heartsofminds
wc: 19k | 🌧️‼️
heavy angst, miscommunication, heartbreak, right person wrong universe type shit, slow burn angst, disrespect towards women, drinking, bradley is a dick
Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though its hard to see)
☆ MIDNIGHT RAIN | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 3.6k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️
fluff, smut, angst, oral (f receiving), mentions/descriptions of bad past relationships, mentions of abuse, past abuse, toxic ex, trauma?, bad coping habits, arguments, crying, swearing
The one where Bradley is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, but even he cant fully erase the bad memories of your last relationship.
☆ THINGS UNSEEN AND HEARD | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 4.1k | 🍋🌧️🤍
smut, angst, fluff, obvious bradley insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption, maybe more
The one where you overhear Bradley talk about you to Jake and decide to give him the space he apparently wanted.
☆ THE STACHE INCIDENT | @feralforfrank
wc: no clue | drabble | 🤍
tooth rotting fluff, its honestly tragic
the title says all you need to know
☆ WHO DID THIS TO YOU? | @feralforfrank
wc: i dunno | 🌧️🤍
accidental injury (reader got hit in the face), crying, nondescript reader
It’s a drabble, I cant say much…
ⓒ onehopelessromantic, July 2024
this has to literally be my favorite bradley bradshaw headcannon ever. i swear i would’ve reacted the same way
the stache deserves a freakin funeral
hey ☺️
the only thing on my mind is rooster shaving his mustache for whatever reason and gf reader is upset ! silly little blurb i luv ur writing muah
the stache incident.
BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW X GN!READER
cw fluffy drabble ig :) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.
a/n ANON!!! ILY THANK YOU FOR READING MY STUFF <3333333 much love to you, MWAH!
masterlist | taglist
You're shocked, heartbroken, in shambles, you name it. The grocery bag almost slips from your fingers when you hear the horrid sound of the electric razor from the bathroom. You place the bags on the counter before practically running inside.
You want to douse your eyes with gasoline when you see the damage. Bradley had been mentioning here and there that he wanted to shave his moustache just to see how he'd look without it. You'd forbade such talk inside the house, and he chuckled before dropping the subject.
But what seemed to be your biggest fear was becoming your new reality. With your keys clutched in one hand, the other holding on for dear life at the door frame, you watch your dear boyfriend shave the last of his moustache over the sink.
He hasn't noticed you yet. Music is playing from his phone, but you can't bring yourself to recognise the tune. This situation is way too tragic. When the buzzing sound stops emanating from the vile machine, Bradley finally turns around, having heard your panting.
"Babe, this isn't what it looks like." He speaks with hesitation and guilt.
"What did you do?" Your every word is punctuated.
Bradley opens his mouth but closes it, and you shake your head expectantly. "Well?"
"I-I was trimming it, and Din here," he looks at your cat, laying on the floor as if he's the criminal here, "came between my legs and scared me, and I moved my hand, and I shaved more than I should. It didn't look good anymore."
You scoff, pushing yourself off the doorway and turning to walk to your bedroom. Not once did you believe Bradley.
"Babe? Baby, c'mon!"
"I am not talking to you, hairless cat."
You hear him chuckle. "Hey, it's not that bad!" Bradley follows you into the bedroom.
"Never said it was." You shrug, taking your shirt off.
He's behind you in seconds, kissing your neck, his hands encircling your waist and pulling you closer. "You called me a hairless cat."
"Don't have a problem with cats. I own one." You pause, looking up. "Now, I got another one! Hm! Look at that!"
"Hey!" Bradley blows a breath where your jawline meets your ear, causing you to shiver.
You spend a few seconds like this, his hands around you, your back pressed against his smooth shirtless chest, face buried in your neck. Feels weird without the stache.
"So, you don't like it?" You realise you've spoken aloud when he questions you.
You shake your head. "I think you look attractive either way." You turn to Bradley, never escaping his grasp.
"I'm only joking. You look like a baby. It's adorable!"
Bradley looks offended. "Well, in that case, I am letting it grow and never shaving it ever again."
You grab the back of his head, kissing where he used to have perfectly trimmed hair. The spot is soft and smooth as a baby's butt.
You can't help but smile.
[ taglist @roosterschanelslut @maverick-wingman @amnmich @mattyskies @wildcole @gretagerwigsmuse @bespinnn @oikawasblueearbud @rip--tide @barryswifey @fanboyluvr @spookys-girl @lonelywitchv2 @j-deimos @heywheresemily @avengersfan25 @piceous21 @sarahjoestewy-blog @n3ssm0nique @mouseymagines @xx-kate-xx13 @vaporub4ever @reading-rosa @marie1115 @dxvanadeline @plaboneruda @awesomebooklover17 @mxlsmith @mak-32 @torresbarnes @depressed-focker @kwanimations @magicstrengthandcourage @graysondanvers @danielmarie @giuliamunson @bordelhoe @studentville-struggles @melody-death @desert-fern @marvelsimps @darling-seraphina @erinnn-brry @mvnsons-slvt @darklordofthesimp @eberles ]
AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH YEESSSSSSSSSSSS
The Younger Kind Part 25 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley doesn't know how he will be able to function if Meredith wins custody. As Noah cries in the courtroom, he whishes he would have done more to ensure this never happened. But when he watches you, terrified but supporting him anyway, he knows what he really needed this whole time was you.
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
The courtroom was freezing cold. Your blazer was scratchy against your arms, and Noah was already crying. As soon as Bradley had to hand his son over to the court appointed counselor, Noah's tears started flowing. And now you were seated in the front row, right behind Bradley, but you couldn't slide down the bench to get to Noah. You couldn't even look at the back of Bradley's head for too long without feeling like it was suspicious.
So you sat there and listened to Noah softly ask for his dad over and over again while Judge Greene listed everyone who was present today. When your name was called, Meredith and her lawyer both turned back to look at you with identical sneers.
Stay strong. Stay strong. You kept telling yourself you would handle this, but you didn't even have to do anything yet, and you already felt ready to fold. But the soft sobbing from Noah and the fact that Meredith hadn't looked at her son once kept you motivated.
Both lawyers gave statements which were largely identical, each one claiming their client would be the better option to raise Noah. But you noticed that while Bradley was fighting for zero visitation rights for Meredith, she was doing the opposite. She seemed willing to have Bradley visit with Noah if she won today. And that made you nervous, because even to your untrained ears, it sounded like she was more flexible than him. She also made it clear she was going to fight for financial support.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw, please stand and give your statement," Judge Greene commanded. You had listened last night at Bradley's kitchen table while he read over his personal statement with Tracy, but hearing his deep, raspy voice shake now had you squeezing your hands to keep calm.
"My son turned four on April twelfth. For every single one of his birthdays, I have been the only parent involved in his life. If something needs to be done for him, I do it. I pay for everything. I care for him in every way. He only knows me," Bradley said, taking a deep breath. "His mother abandoned us. Both of us. And I know he's sitting right behind me and listening to everything I'm saying. And I can hear him crying, which is making it really hard to stand here right now. But I also know he has no idea who his biological mom is. I do not think it would be in his best interest to remove him from his home and the parent who loves him."
When Meredith stood to give her statement, you could tell she felt defensive. It was rolling off of her in waves. Her voice was harsh as she tried to make claims that you just couldn't believe. "Bradley has kept my son from me. For years I've tried reaching out to him, and I'm lucky to even get a response. So the idea that I could have abandoned them is preposterous. He never asked me for money, so I never gave it. Had he asked, I would have been more than happy to help provide. But along with that, changes in my lifestyle have meant that I'm ready to take full control of my son's custody. As his mother. And I'm more than willing to work with a court appointed counselor to ensure that visitation rights would be granted. I'm being more than fair. A mother is better equipped to care for her child than a father."
You were shivering in the cold room now, and while Bradley's posture had only incrementally changed, you could tell he was angry. But Tracy looked completely relaxed. How could that be? Meredith was a fucking liar! And Noah was whining for his dad! And nothing that was going on in this room was fair or just.
The lawyers were going back and forth like a verbal wrestling match now. It was impressive. Mesmerizing. When one of them seemed to have the upper hand, the other made a swift comeback. The only problem was, Meredith was being made to sound like a saint. You couldn't understand why Tracy wasn't going for the kill right now. The sooner this was over, the sooner you and Bradley could take Noah back to his house and let things go back to normal. The three of you eating dinner together would help Noah forget about his tears. You wanted your boys to pretend today never happened.
You watched Meredith's profile as she sat there, completely aloof when Judge Greene called the counselor and Noah up toward the bench. Noah pulled his hand away and ran right for Bradley, tears in his eyes again.
"It's okay, Bub," he soothed, dropping down from his chair to kneel in front of his son. "It's okay to go with them. It won't even take long."
"I want to go home," Noah hiccupped, looking between you and Bradley, knowing the comfort that one or both of you usually provided him. But none of that came right now. Bradley picked him up and handed him over with a soft kiss on the cheek. Noah wailed as he was carried off to the judge's chambers for some one on one questions with Judge Greene.
And Meredith sat there like she hadn't a care in the world while Bradley cradled his head in his hands on the table in front of him. Tracy tried to get him to drink some water from her bag, but he wouldn't. You reminded yourself not to look at him too much, and that's when Meredith caught your eye again. She was fighting to try to keep the smirk from her face as she tried to appear serious. You knew what she was probably going to have her lawyer ask you. You knew it was going to be ridiculous. But you didn't like the way she was looking at you like you were the only thing between her and what she wanted.
When Judge Greene returned empty handed, Bradley scrambled to his feet. "Where's Noah?" he asked, and Tracy was immediately trying to get him to sit down.
"In my chambers, coloring. He's just fine. Now, I'd like to call up some character witnesses."
You waited while three separate people spoke about Meredith like she was sunshine incarnate instead of a woman who left her son behind like he was nothing to her. Then your name was called. You made your way up to the seat near the front, and Meredith's lawyer wasted no time in trying to break you.
"You're a character witness for Bradley Bradshaw?"
"Yes," you replied, mortified by the way your voice shook. "I am."
"And how do you know him?"
You swallowed hard. "I babysit Noah on occasion." It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. Saying you were just Noah's occasional babysitter was a wholly inadequate representation of what the two of them meant to you. Of how much you loved them. You had to swallow against the sick feeling in your throat.
"Is that all you do when you're watching Noah? Or do you stay? Earn some money by doing things for Lieutenant Bradshaw?"
Cold sweat broke out along your neck and chest, and your eyes shifted to Bradley without warning. He looked irate and red in the face, and you were already embarrassed after less than a minute of questioning.
"I object!" Tracy called out, waving her hand in the air. "That's hearsay. And irrelevant."
"Sustained," Judge Greene said calmly, as if there was no reason for you to feel like you were going to vomit right now. "Any further questions?"
But of course Meredith's lawyer had more questions for you. And they were all designed to make you look bad.
"How did you pay for nursing school? Did Lieutenant Bradshaw offer to give you an outlandish salary to spend time with him? Do you actually have any experience watching a child that age? How are you qualified to spend time with him? What sorts of questionable things did you find in that house?"
You tried to answer each question with calm composure, but soon you felt like you couldn't breathe. Your eyes were burning. You turned to the judge, but she gave you a bland look. You were on your own. So you took a deep breath, determined to finish this even if your voice was shaking again.
"As a nursing student, you must have access to prescription drugs. Do you use them?"
"No!" you said, having had just about enough of this. Bradley was rubbing his hand along his face, barely keeping it together. Tracy was looking at you, eyes pleading with you to hold it together. "I do not steal or use prescription drugs. I'm studying pediatric nursing. I'm more than qualified to take care of Noah."
"Would you be willing to be drug tested?" the other lawyer asked.
"Absolutely. You want blood? Urine? Hair? Depending on the lab, you could have results by the end of the day." Your jaw was clenched tight.
"One last question," he said with a smile. "Is it true that you seduced Lieutenant Bradshaw? And that you're pregnant with his child?"
The audible gasp that came from you mirrored Tracy's. Bradley was now gripping the edge of the table in front of him. You were shaking as you said, "I'll take a pregnancy test, too."
You would do it if they made you. But it didn't seem fair. Your relationship with Bradley didn't have anything to do with how he cared for Noah. It didn't have anything to do with how qualified you were to babysit. Tears filled your eyes, but you had promised Tracy you wouldn't cry. You watched through blurry vision as she jumped to her feet and approached your seat.
"He's badgering the witness with irrelevant questions!" she said, and Judge Greene told the other lawyer to sit down.
Tracy must have been able to tell you were shaken up, because she asked, "Can we take a short recess?"
"No," Judge Green replied with a sharp shake of her head. "Let's carry on with your questioning."
Tracy took her time walking back to the table and gathering her notes, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Your hands were still shaking when Tracy asked you, "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw ever make you feel uncomfortable?"
"No. Never."
"Did he ever criticize the way you cared for his son?"
"No," you said, your voice sounding stronger now.
Tracy shuffled her papers and asked, "Does Lieutenant Bradshaw seem to be a loving and caring parent to Noah?"
"Yes," you replied with conviction.
"Now, can you tell me a little bit about how you injured your arm in the parking lot at Meyer Park?"
You watched the color drain from Meredith's face as you recounted the way she had scared you, forcing you to run to safety with Noah.
"And was that the only time you saw her prior to this morning?" Tracy asked.
"I saw her yesterday," you replied. "At the grocery store. I thought she was following me."
"Objection!" shouted the other lawyer.
"Sustained," responded Judge Greene. Your head was swimming with what you were supposed to say and what you were supposed to stay away from. You couldn't remember. And you could barely focus on Tracy. But she wanted you to get to the point. You could tell.
So you blurted out, "Meredith asked me if I was sleeping with Bradley to get to his money. She mentioned a life insurance payout and his expensive car."
"It's actually a Bronco," Bradley muttered, raking his fingers through his hair as Meredith slammed her hand down on the notebook in front of her and started whispering to her lawyer.
Tracy asked another question quickly while everyone else was distracted. "And what did you do when you left the grocery store?"
She was giving you an encouraging look, so you said. "I looked some things up online. About how her business filed for bankruptcy. And her home went into foreclosure. And she said in an interview after Noah was born that she doesn't have any kids."
"Objection!" the other lawyer shouted again.
"Overruled," said Judge Greene, and Tracy looked like just won the lottery. "Please continue," she said, brow creased in concern now.
You felt like an idiot as you told Tracy that you used Google to search for information about Meredith, but you just kept going.
"I found articles that suggest that her business went into bankruptcy because of mismanaged funds. And insider trading with her business partner. They were married, but it appears that he left her."
Every single time the other lawyer tried to object to what you were saying, the judge overruled it. And then Tracy urged you to continue. But you were shaking from a combination of anxiety and fear.
"It sounds like she has no money," you said, voice quivering again as you met Bradley's eyes. You'd never seen him look so distraught or so hopeful before. He was silently cheering you on, like he knew how strong you could be. So you kept going.
---------------------------
Bradley was practically ready to crawl out of his own skin. He couldn't stand the way Meredith's lawyer kept yelling at you. He hated that he had to sit here in this horribly uncomfortable seat and just listen as your character got ripped to shreds. He wanted to take you and Noah home, order a pizza and watch a movie. You looked like you wanted to cry, but you didn't. And Bradley was so proud of how strong you were.
When Tracy started asking you questions, you sat up a little taller. You sounded a little bolder. And then Meredith was the one in a state of panic.
"It sounds like she has no money," you said, as you met Bradley's eyes. "That doesn't sound like the right reason to fight for custody of a child."
The room went silent for a second after that. And then Meredith stood up and said, "I've lost everything, okay? Everything! But Noah is my blood, and I have a right to him, too!"
Then chaos broke out. When Bradley stood and said, "Why do you want him now that you're broke, huh?" he felt Tracy's hands on his arm, pulling him back to his chair.
"Let her sink her own ship," she whispered, keeping a firm hand on his forearm. You were still sitting up in the front, perched on the edge of the seat like you wanted to run. He wanted to scoop you up like he always did, for your own comfort, but for his as well.
He listened to Meredith rant and try to blame him for everything as her lawyer begged her to sit. He listened to her call you a slut and claim once again that you were pregnant. She said she knows you bought pregnancy tests at the grocery store. So what if you were pregnant? It didn't have anything to do with Noah or Bradley's ability to take care of him. It didn't have anything to do with that fact that Bradley would never abandon a child like she had.
He watched Judge Greene remain completely calm as Meredith's lawyer finally got her to sit down. Then she stood and said, "Please bring me all written evidence. I'll have my decision shortly." Both lawyers handed her folders before she disappeared into her chambers.
"Where's Noah?" Bradley asked Tracy immediately, accepting a bottle of water from her.
"He's with the counselor. He's fine. And you did great."
"I barely did anything!" he growled, worried he hadn't done enough today. He'd done nothing compared to you. As you stood and made your way to the rows of benches behind him, you never met his eyes. He loved you. All he ever wanted to do was protect you from all of this. You shouldn't be here right now. If he lost Noah today, he didn't know how he was going to continue to exist. And you should have had no part in this nightmare.
He'd forced this on you in a way. Every step he took since he met you led you here. Bradley had tried so hard to cut you out, end things with you, but he was so fucking weak. He should have been more focused on Noah. But he had been. He'd been trying to find someone to date who would make him and Noah complete, or at least better. And despite his initial reservations, that was you.
When he turned to face you, your eyes snapped up to meet his. He'd never be able to thank you enough for everything you'd done for both of them. But he wanted to have the chance. He wanted you to know what you meant to him and to Noah.
"How long is this going to take?" he asked Tracy, wiping his sweaty palms on his suit pants. He could hear Meredith talking, but he kept himself focused on his lawyer.
"Hard to say," she told him calmly. "Just keep breathing. Focus on your breathing."
So he did, and when he started to feel sick again, Tracy talked to him. And then Judge Greene was coming back out, and Bradley could see Noah through the door before it closed. Dread rose inside him as the judge had everyone in the room stand. He felt like his limbs weighed a million pounds as he faced the front of the room.
Every second of silence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He almost had to reach for Tracy when Judge Greene said, "In light of today's testimonies and evidence plus the collection of evidence I reviewed leading up to the trial, I have reached a decision regarding the custody of Noah Bradshaw."
Bradley had to close his eyes. All of his senses were overwhelmed, and he was afraid he was going to breakdown.
"The following decision is a reflection of what is in the best interest of the child. Full custody is to be awarded to Bradley Bradshaw. There will be no visitation privileges. There will be no child support owed. The child's biological father is to be his sole guardian."
Bradley collapsed back down onto the chair as he cried. "Oh my god," he groaned, cradling his face in his hands. He was gasping for air as he felt Tracy's hand on his shoulder. He could see Meredith storm out of the room. He could hear you laughing and crying at the same time behind him as the counselor walked back out of the judge's chambers with Noah.
And then he was out of his chair again, rushing toward his son and scooping him up. "I colored you a monkey," Noah told him as Bradley smothered his whole face in kisses.
"I love it," Bradley promised him without even looking at the coloring sheet. "It's perfect, and I love it so much." He buried his face against Noah's neck and inhaled.
"And I colored a unicorn for Princess."
"Yeah?" Bradley asked, holding him tight. "She's gonna love it, too."
"I know," Noah replied confidently. "I told them about how she brings me coloring books and cooks food like spaghetti. And how she plays blocks and reads and can sing good."
"You told them about Princess?" Bradley asked, turning to the back of the room. You were waiting patiently for them, a huge smile on your face as you bounced a little bit on your feet.
"Yep. I told them that she loves me and that you do too. Can we go home yet?"
As much as Bradley wanted to keep you separate from all of this, he needed you the whole time. And so did Noah. He rushed toward you and took you by the hand. "Now we can go home."
------------------------
You unlocked the front door with your key, and Bradley kissed you again. A huge smile was still plastered all over your face as you watched how much he loved his son. He ended up on his back on the living room floor while Noah sat on top of him and laughed. Bradley's suit was a wrinkly mess now as you knelt down next to them.
"You want spaghetti for dinner, Noah?" Your appetite was back, and you were ravenous. There was no doubt in your mind that Bradley could do with a good meal as well.
"Yeah! And ants on logs!"
You kissed his chubby cheek and said, "Let me check on the raisin situation." Then you leaned down to kiss Bradley's lips, and he pulled you back for a second and a third.
He murmured, "I love you," before briefly swiping your tongue with his. You ran your fingers back through his hair and let your forehead rest on his.
"I love both of you." Then you kissed his nose and went to the kitchen, letting them have a little more time alone as they laughed on the floor.
As you set a pot on the stove to boil some water, your eyes filled with tears. It felt like a combination of stress and relief and happiness. You sank to the floor with your back to the cabinet and cried. When you left the courthouse with Bradley, Meredith was nowhere to be found. Bradley had hugged Tracy with tears in his eyes, and she promised to be in touch with him soon to take some final actions. And then she told you that you had done a great job of staying calm and presenting evidence against Meredith while acting as a character witness. "I wish everyone was as professional as you."
Her words echoed in your head as you remembered that you didn't live here with Bradley and Noah. Not really. You were still going to need to finish writing your final papers for school and start looking for a job to support yourself. Because contrary to what Meredith thought, you hadn't been fucking Bradley to get him to pay your tuition. You had a mountain of loans to pay off now. And really, it would be better if you left after dinner tonight and went home. You'd have to get used to a routine where Bradley was your boyfriend with his own space.
Noah came running in a minute later as you wiped your eyes. "I'm hungry," he informed you, sitting down on your lap. Bradley walked in without his suit coat on. His shirt sleeves were rolled up. His tie was loose, and his top few buttons were undone.
"How about I make dinner and you just supervise?" he asked, pulling you to your feet. "You had a long day, too."
So you nodded at him, and he picked you up and set you on the counter. And then he set Noah on your lap and started the playlist you made. You showed him how to brown the meat and add the sauce. You showed him how to keep the spaghetti noodles from sticking together.
And as he was plating the food, he paused and looked at you. "I forgot. I picked something up at the store the other day for us to celebrate with. Wait here." He dashed out of the room, and you slipped down off of the counter with Noah in your arms. You finished getting the spaghetti onto plates and pulled out the carrots to make him some ants, and then Bradley was back in the kitchen with the biggest bag of Skittles you had ever seen.
Laughter bubbled out of you along with another sob. "I'm happy, but I can't stop crying."
He tossed the Skittles aside and grabbed you by the hips. "That's because you really care about us. You always have. And you saved us today."
The prickle of his mustache against your skin had you parting your lips for him. He held you close, his thumbs stroking you through your pants as you worked your fingers through his hair. "I love you," he rasped, releasing your lips in favor of whispering the sexiest, loveliest things in your ear while Noah made a huge mess of spaghetti at the table.
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Ahhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhh! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !
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life for two
pairings: platonic pete "maverick" mitchell x kazansky!reader, bradley "rooster" bradshaw x kazansky!reader
word count: ~0.6k
warnings: pregnancy, allusions to grief, top gun: maverick spoilers, allusions to anxiety and ptsd
a/n: there is an incredibly detailed collection by @ofstoriesandstardust revolving around a mitchell!reader x rooster where her godfather is iceman, but i have been pondering the idea of if the roles were reversed for a hot minute. i VERY highly recommend reading through the same mistakes-verse if you are a tg:m fan as this collection does an incredible job of expanding upon the characters we love so much from a different perspective. but this is my little self-indulgent spin on things.
song inspo: life for two by brandon jenner
A light knock broke Maverick’s focus on the reports scattered across his desk. The captain peered up to spot his intruder, eyes softening at the figure standing timidly in the doorway.
“Frost,” Maverick chimed. Her presence was always a welcome one, to be sure, but her demeanor was worrying to him. Ice’s daughter had always stood with as much pride as her father did in his earliest days at Top Gun. There was something off about her now, with her shoulders slumped and her fingers fiddling at her sides. Rather than a grown woman, Maverick thought he was looking at a frightened child.
“Uncle Mav,” she tried, voice already shaking. What had happened? How had his goddaughter been reduced to such an open state of fragility? Not even on her father’s funeral day did she let her resilience go. Maverick crossed the room in quick strides before tugging her inside and shutting the door behind them both.
He let her get settled on the small couch before sitting beside her. Maverick’s eyes didn’t budge from their fixation on her worrying expression. Frostbite couldn’t quite meet his gaze. Her hands continued to fidget frantically, wringing back and forth in an attempt to steady herself. Still, not a drop of her nerves relented.
Maverick tried calling out her name. He was now getting scared. Ice reacted similarly when telling him his cancer had come back. Was similar glum news awaiting him at the end of this conversation? “What’s going on, kid? Talk to me.”
At last, Frostbite looked up at her godfather. Tears were beginning to break along her lashline. It sent a cold shock through Maverick. But before he could press further, she spoke. “I’m pregnant.”
Oh. Oh. The news itself wasn’t entirely jarring. His goddaughter and godson had been together for quite some time, happy as can be. What was jarring was the fear that seemed to freeze one of the most fearless people he’d ever seen.
Maverick offered a soft smile in response. “Frost, that’s great. You’ve wanted kiddos for you and Bradley since you were kiddos.” He gently clapped a hand on her shoulder, feeling the muscle tense beneath his touch almost instantly.
“What if he doesn’t want it?” Every word came out shaking. “What if he does, but another deployment comes up? What if he never makes it home?” Some of the tears Frost had been holding back slipped down her paling cheeks. Doubts and worst-case scenarios had been running marathons in her mind ever since that little plastic stick showed two dark lines. Giving voice to these ideas was only making them seem that much more plausible.
Frostbite did not give Pete the time to counter before she went on, her next words chilling him to the bone. “He should be here.”
Maverick knew she did not mean Bradley. Sure, Sarah was still ever-present and well in their lives even in the face of ultimate grief. But what little girl imagined going through a pregnancy without her father there? Walking down the aisle at her wedding without his arm linked through hers? Raising his grandchild who would never know his warm embrace?
A sob brought him back to the moment. Frostbite was bent forward, hands pressed against her head as her body shook with every cry struggling to surface. It broke his heart to see her, even now, trying to hold some composure.
“Come here,” he beckoned. Maverick softly tugged her to lean against his side, arms wrapping around her trembling form. Frost tucked her face against his jacket as she finally let go of all she had been holding back: all of the sadness, anger, denial, and resentment that came with grief.
Pete held her close, letting some tears of his own fall as the pair grieved for the man who tied them together.
-
i might write a part 2 where frostbite actually tells bradley that she is pregnant but this is all my mind will let me get away with for now. i hope someone enjoys >.<
open arms (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x kazansky!reader)
for @roosterforme's 80's "Rocktober" Playlist Fic Challenge!
word count: ~2.6k
warnings: top gun: maverick spoilers, mention of death/funeral, general anxiety
song inspiration: open arms by journey
a/n: thank you so much to emily for this challenge! i truly have not felt so inspired to write in such a long time so this challenge was perfect for me. (my writing’s still a bit rusty, don’t get me wrong, but practice makes perfect eh?) all my love to you always, my favorite FAVORITE tg creator <3
lying beside you, here in the dark, feeling your heart beat with mine.
It was no longer a rarity that you ended up here, nestled beneath gently worn sheets against Bradley's side. Your shared breaths tangled in the air before finding a synchronized rhythm. His steady pulse thrummed against your ear as his hand traced lazily against your side. Silence had never felt so comfortable. And yet, each night you spent in each other's embrace, your mind wrestled with what this all meant.
You couldn't pop that bubble tonight, not when tomorrow meant Bradley would be seabound once again. The reminder of his departure had you nuzzling closer to him. Part of you wished you could sink into his skin somehow; to both stay at his side and shroud yourself from the muddled emotions you kept at bay. Bradley responded to your movement with a soft kiss to the top of your head and a contented sigh slipping past his lips.
How was so relaxed, not knowing what was to come of this deployment? It was equal parts inspiring and horrifying to see the stoicism he held for his work. You knew better than most how much it meant for him to follow in the footsteps of his father. The potential dangers would never outweigh the pride and passion he felt for flying. So instead, you sat to bear the brunt of the worry whenever he was sent off.
Shifting up slightly, you dared to find his face. His eyes sparkled in the streaks of moonlight seeping from the window. They were fixed on the ceiling as if he were deep in thought.
"What's on your mind?" Bradley did not shift his gaze to you just yet. Instead, he took in another deep breath, lifting his head along the way. His exhale was exasperated and furthered your concern. You sat up more, a hand trailing behind to cup his cheek. "Bradley?" you tried again. "You know you can talk to me about anything. I would never judge you."
The eyes Bradley met you with were filled with uncertainty; and hesitation, too. If you had known any better, you would suspect his thoughts were mirroring your own. What are we? What is this? Do you feel the same as I do? What do we do about it? There were too many questions for too few hours left together. There was never enough time.
You had settled with the time you could share, the sunny days filled with laughter and the intimate nights that became second nature to you both. Any question of “more” was pushed further and further off the table with every assignment.
He gave you half a smile as he brushed your hair back from your face. "You're so sincere," he whispered. A light flush danced along your cheeks as you fought a shy smile. "You look out for me more than anyone. You always have."
"And you have for me, too," you reminded him.
we sailed on together, we drifted apart, and here you are by my side.
Naval life brought you and Bradley together. He was the son of the great and ill-fated Nick Bradshaw, while you were the daughter of the highly decorated admiral Tom Kazansky. Virginia was home to you both in the years of your youth and rarely did your mothers keep you apart as you grew. Bradley was your best friend, and him yours.
You supported him on his journey to the Navy: trained alongside him for his physicals and quizzed him on examination materials. It was in those same moments you first felt afraid, both of what could happen to him in service and what you felt blooming in your chest. Half of that fear was suspended when your Uncle Pete pulled Bradley’s papers from the naval academy. The other half buried itself deep down as you acted once again as a shoulder for the frustrations of your best friend.
The decades following saw you both through all the stages of life: college classes, breakups, graduations, careers, apartments. Though your contact waned and waxed along the way, your paths never failed to converge. Like when he was stationed in Connecticut while you were living there, or when you found him vacationing in Key West during a work trip.
Your path led you back to San Diego, once your parents based themselves there. Only weeks ago had you moved across the country to support them both as your father's condition worsened. They pushed you to take some nights for yourself, and the Hard Deck was an easy recommendation.
Despite the many twists of fate that had reunited you for years, nothing could have prepared you for the whirlwind of emotions you felt seeing Bradley there. You were fighting to catch a half-decent breath as your heart beat rapidly in your chest.
It wasn’t long before he spotted you. There was some sort of unspoken second sense you had for one another. After a warm hug and some quips from his squad mates, you two were sharing drinks and laughing together like always. It was as if no time had passed since your last serendipitous meeting. He asked about your life, and you asked about his. Your throat tightened at his reason for returning to TOP GUN, but you shoveled those feelings, like always.
They resurfaced at the closing of your father’s funeral. Your Uncle Pete took to escorting your mother away while you stood still as stone at the gravesite. All of the aviators in attendance had departed from the cemetery. All but one.
It was quiet, apart from the slight whistle of the air. You heard the careful padding of feet behind you but cared not to face the intruder. A hand along the small of your back was all you needed to know who had stayed behind. As your face scrunched up in sorrow, Bradley curled you against himself. He kept you guarded through your tears, murmuring every word of solace he thought of into your ear.
And when you urged you could not face the others in mourning, Bradley brought you to your hotel room. He held you through your grief for Tom, as you had held him through his for Carole. He promised that night to forever hold you in your hardest moments, and you shakily promised the same.
Somehow, everything felt like it would turn out okay: the loss of your father, the mission, and whatever came after. Through every peak and valley, it had always felt like that when Bradley was beside you.
living without you, living alone, this empty house feels so cold. wanting to hold you, wanting you near. how much i want to bring you home.
Housesitting seemed like a good idea in the moment. You had yet to find your own bearings on the West Coast as you kept your mother company in her grief. She was kind to open her home to you, yet you craved to return to the breadth of your independence. Crashing at an empty house gave you a taste of that.
It was a no-brainer to Bradley. By the time he had gotten his papers, you were his home’s most frequent guest. He trusted you more than anyone; though, he would never say as such to Nat. The younger lieutenant had already teased enough about her friend’s recovered friendship.
Pieces of that friendship were dotted around the house, you quickly discovered. You had tried your best to keep your mind away from it. The days not jammed with work assignments and housekeeping drew too long. No hobby or day trip could fill the void caving deep in your chest. Empty notification screens and inboxes tore it further apart.
You caved on the fifth week, finally diving into the details of the quaint beach house. Bradley had kept the memories of almost four decades perfectly preserved in so many ways. Virginia Beach carnival tickets from your teen years in a trinket box, a takeout menu from a diner in Connecticut stuffed into a desk drawer, an incredibly tacky Key West magnet hung on his fridge.
An entire photo album was dedicated to your shared Navy family: your aviator uncles and fathers, your mothers, and the pair of you. Faded tickets and receipts were pasted alongside the pictures of your years together once he had a mind for momentos. You felt your chest grow tighter at the thought that went into each page.
Five weeks had passed without a single word from him or any of the friends you now shared. You knew missions could be like this, your own father having gone AWOL for months on several different top-level occasions. And yet, it never left you feeling so empty before.
Bradley's room had stayed shut since he closed it before leaving. You had not dared to breach his privacy, despite his continual assurances that you could sleep in his bed while he was away.
“It’s practically our bed at this point, isn’t it?”
But the closeness was too much. You had needed to distance yourself from it, desperate to quiet the fright echoing in your mind. Now, you longed to drown yourself in the ghost of his presence.
Bradley had fixed up his things before leaving. Ever the neat freak, his floor was swept clean and his bedding was perfectly tucked. The only difference you spotted was a green woolen blanket peeking above one pillow.
Carole had gifted you that blanket. It had started as you needing it one night at her house and quickly became a regular borrowing occurrence. You only ever returned it when she was at her sickest. The hope was to provide her with the same compassion and encouragement she gave you as you grew up. After she passed, you didn’t think to ask where it ended up.
You clutched onto the material, desperate sobs shaking your body. Bradley had held onto it this whole time. He tucked it in safely where he had wanted you to be, to provide you the comfort you needed while he was preparing for a flight that held no guarantee of a safe return. Bradley Bradshaw was looking out for you again, just like he always had.
The weight of it all dawned on you as you lay cold as ever in that bed. How much you wished he would walk through the door, how much you yearned for the warmth of his body beside yours; how much you wished to tell him everything. In the light of your realization, nothing mattered more than the docking date just over the horizon.
but now that you've come back, turned night into day, i need you to stay.
You had wanted to go to the dock: to be the person Bradley bolted off of the ship to embrace, the one to welcome him home after weeks away. It was the silence that locked you in place. Not a single form of correspondence had reached you since he had departed. Frustration would be an easy crutch to rely on if you weren’t so riddled with fear.
Fear that your last kiss was on the front steps of his porch. Fear that you would never again hear his honeyed voice singing along to your radio. Fear that you had lost your one true companion in this life, past your ups and downs along the way.
Nat was making rounds to grab Jake, Bob, and Javy off of the carrier, anyway. “It’s no problem,” she had said when you called her not half an hour before you had been planning to leave. It was scribbled on your calendar, with a little heart that Bradley added on himself. Your eyes filled with hot tears as you stared at it.
You dreaded a knock on your door, accompanied by an officer wearing a sullen expression and desolate words that would blur in your ears. Or the sorrowful looks worn by his closest squad mates as they found you in the crowd of families and other loved ones awaiting their arrival.
The possibilities plagued any chance of restful sleep, that night above all the nights since his departure. Instead, you curled yourself against Bradley’s beat-up loveseat from college, eyes darting to the front door at every blare of headlights passing by.
The ungodly hour ticked on from the tacky bar clock on the wall: one of Goose’s favorite old house accessories. Draped around your shaky form was the blanket from Carole. Your father’s dog tags hung from your neck. Would you soon need memorabilia to remember Bradley by, too?
A soft creak of wood caught your attention, then another. Keys jingled at the front door as the lock began to turn. Tired from travels and anxious from his own arrival, Bradley trudged through the door with his bag in tow.
You barely contained your gasp, drawing his attention right to you as you lurched up from your seat. The duffel fell from his hand with a light thud on the floor. Not a second was wasted before you ran to embrace him. Bradley caught you instantly as you leaped into his open arms.
The tears you had restrained for hours fell freely into the fabric of his uniform. Your hands clung tightly around his neck, scared to ever let go.
“I’ve got you,” Bradley soothed as he felt the rush of your anxieties manifesting. “I’m right here, darlin’; I’m home.”
“I was s-so worried,” you hiccuped. “I-I didn’t hear anything, a-and I-”
“Shhh, I know. I know; I’m so sorry.” He walked you both back over to the loveseat. Falling against it, Bradley held you closer to him as his wind-chapped lips buried into your hair. A deep inhale drew you closer to his shoulder, the resulting exhale elevating you to the familiar beat of his heart.
Only a few moments passed before you began to push at his chest. He was quick to brace himself for you to sit upright in his lap. Your eyes scanning him were unreadable. Bradley rubbed the tops of your thighs, clad in his old UVA sweatpants, as he waited on you patiently.
The words were right there. They had burdened the tip of your tongue through almost every stage of your intertwined lives. No matter what the outcome would be, no excuse was great enough to keep them caged any longer. You were done keeping this final piece of yourself from the person who had already put together the rest.
“I was looking around here, while you were gone,” you sniffled. Bradley nodded as a gentle encouragement. He could read your apprehension as clear as day. Still, he would never force answers from you that you were not yet ready to give. He gave you soft and composed reassurances instead.
After taking a deep breath, you continued. “We’ve spent so much of our lives dancing around one another; our whole lives, even.” You fought to keep your eyes locked in his, despite the adrenaline beginning to race through your system. “And no matter what’s happened, and what has come between us, we have always found each other again.” Bradley nodded again, his lips curving ever so slightly upwards. His thumbs continued to trace shapes over the decades-old cotton.
“You have made my every victory a celebration, every hurdle a little easier to jump. But I was always scared.” His smile dropped, a slight frown replacing it. “I was scared of how dark it would feel to lose the way your-” You hesitated at the word, debating whether it was too powerful to use. The feel of his hands squeezing tenderly at your hips stirred your voice forward. “The way your care lights up my life.”
You finally let your chin fall, to break his piercing gaze and take a moment to collect yourself. “I have hidden myself in fear for too long. I don’t want to hide anymore.”
“I love you.” The words froze you. Processing them was not an easy feat, even more so when you had not seen him speak them. You flitted your widened eyes back up at Bradley. He was staring at you in a way you never recognized before, though no different from how he’d regarded you all along. It was only now you could put a name to it.
“I love you,” Bradley said again, to prove to you both that he really had. “You have always been my home and my safe haven from everything I've gone through.” He released his soft grip on your hips to caress your face instead, thumbs swiping at the tears still falling from your eyes. “Your love lights up my life, too.”
so now i come to you, with open arms. nothing to hide: believe what i say. so here i am, with open arms, hoping you'll see what your love means to me.
🥺 i’m so glad you enjoyed!
open arms (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x kazansky!reader)
for @roosterforme's 80's "Rocktober" Playlist Fic Challenge!
word count: ~2.6k
warnings: top gun: maverick spoilers, mention of death/funeral, general anxiety
song inspiration: open arms by journey
a/n: thank you so much to emily for this challenge! i truly have not felt so inspired to write in such a long time so this challenge was perfect for me. (my writing’s still a bit rusty, don’t get me wrong, but practice makes perfect eh?) all my love to you always, my favorite FAVORITE tg creator <3
lying beside you, here in the dark, feeling your heart beat with mine.
It was no longer a rarity that you ended up here, nestled beneath gently worn sheets against Bradley's side. Your shared breaths tangled in the air before finding a synchronized rhythm. His steady pulse thrummed against your ear as his hand traced lazily against your side. Silence had never felt so comfortable. And yet, each night you spent in each other's embrace, your mind wrestled with what this all meant.
You couldn't pop that bubble tonight, not when tomorrow meant Bradley would be seabound once again. The reminder of his departure had you nuzzling closer to him. Part of you wished you could sink into his skin somehow; to both stay at his side and shroud yourself from the muddled emotions you kept at bay. Bradley responded to your movement with a soft kiss to the top of your head and a contented sigh slipping past his lips.
How was so relaxed, not knowing what was to come of this deployment? It was equal parts inspiring and horrifying to see the stoicism he held for his work. You knew better than most how much it meant for him to follow in the footsteps of his father. The potential dangers would never outweigh the pride and passion he felt for flying. So instead, you sat to bear the brunt of the worry whenever he was sent off.
Shifting up slightly, you dared to find his face. His eyes sparkled in the streaks of moonlight seeping from the window. They were fixed on the ceiling as if he were deep in thought.
"What's on your mind?" Bradley did not shift his gaze to you just yet. Instead, he took in another deep breath, lifting his head along the way. His exhale was exasperated and furthered your concern. You sat up more, a hand trailing behind to cup his cheek. "Bradley?" you tried again. "You know you can talk to me about anything. I would never judge you."
The eyes Bradley met you with were filled with uncertainty; and hesitation, too. If you had known any better, you would suspect his thoughts were mirroring your own. What are we? What is this? Do you feel the same as I do? What do we do about it? There were too many questions for too few hours left together. There was never enough time.
You had settled with the time you could share, the sunny days filled with laughter and the intimate nights that became second nature to you both. Any question of “more” was pushed further and further off the table with every assignment.
He gave you half a smile as he brushed your hair back from your face. "You're so sincere," he whispered. A light flush danced along your cheeks as you fought a shy smile. "You look out for me more than anyone. You always have."
"And you have for me, too," you reminded him.
we sailed on together, we drifted apart, and here you are by my side.
Naval life brought you and Bradley together. He was the son of the great and ill-fated Nick Bradshaw, while you were the daughter of the highly decorated admiral Tom Kazansky. Virginia was home to you both in the years of your youth and rarely did your mothers keep you apart as you grew. Bradley was your best friend, and him yours.
You supported him on his journey to the Navy: trained alongside him for his physicals and quizzed him on examination materials. It was in those same moments you first felt afraid, both of what could happen to him in service and what you felt blooming in your chest. Half of that fear was suspended when your Uncle Pete pulled Bradley’s papers from the naval academy. The other half buried itself deep down as you acted once again as a shoulder for the frustrations of your best friend.
The decades following saw you both through all the stages of life: college classes, breakups, graduations, careers, apartments. Though your contact waned and waxed along the way, your paths never failed to converge. Like when he was stationed in Connecticut while you were living there, or when you found him vacationing in Key West during a work trip.
Your path led you back to San Diego, once your parents based themselves there. Only weeks ago had you moved across the country to support them both as your father's condition worsened. They pushed you to take some nights for yourself, and the Hard Deck was an easy recommendation.
Despite the many twists of fate that had reunited you for years, nothing could have prepared you for the whirlwind of emotions you felt seeing Bradley there. You were fighting to catch a half-decent breath as your heart beat rapidly in your chest.
It wasn’t long before he spotted you. There was some sort of unspoken second sense you had for one another. After a warm hug and some quips from his squad mates, you two were sharing drinks and laughing together like always. It was as if no time had passed since your last serendipitous meeting. He asked about your life, and you asked about his. Your throat tightened at his reason for returning to TOP GUN, but you shoveled those feelings, like always.
They resurfaced at the closing of your father’s funeral. Your Uncle Pete took to escorting your mother away while you stood still as stone at the gravesite. All of the aviators in attendance had departed from the cemetery. All but one.
It was quiet, apart from the slight whistle of the air. You heard the careful padding of feet behind you but cared not to face the intruder. A hand along the small of your back was all you needed to know who had stayed behind. As your face scrunched up in sorrow, Bradley curled you against himself. He kept you guarded through your tears, murmuring every word of solace he thought of into your ear.
And when you urged you could not face the others in mourning, Bradley brought you to your hotel room. He held you through your grief for Tom, as you had held him through his for Carole. He promised that night to forever hold you in your hardest moments, and you shakily promised the same.
Somehow, everything felt like it would turn out okay: the loss of your father, the mission, and whatever came after. Through every peak and valley, it had always felt like that when Bradley was beside you.
living without you, living alone, this empty house feels so cold. wanting to hold you, wanting you near. how much i want to bring you home.
Housesitting seemed like a good idea in the moment. You had yet to find your own bearings on the West Coast as you kept your mother company in her grief. She was kind to open her home to you, yet you craved to return to the breadth of your independence. Crashing at an empty house gave you a taste of that.
It was a no-brainer to Bradley. By the time he had gotten his papers, you were his home’s most frequent guest. He trusted you more than anyone; though, he would never say as such to Nat. The younger lieutenant had already teased enough about her friend’s recovered friendship.
Pieces of that friendship were dotted around the house, you quickly discovered. You had tried your best to keep your mind away from it. The days not jammed with work assignments and housekeeping drew too long. No hobby or day trip could fill the void caving deep in your chest. Empty notification screens and inboxes tore it further apart.
You caved on the fifth week, finally diving into the details of the quaint beach house. Bradley had kept the memories of almost four decades perfectly preserved in so many ways. Virginia Beach carnival tickets from your teen years in a trinket box, a takeout menu from a diner in Connecticut stuffed into a desk drawer, an incredibly tacky Key West magnet hung on his fridge.
An entire photo album was dedicated to your shared Navy family: your aviator uncles and fathers, your mothers, and the pair of you. Faded tickets and receipts were pasted alongside the pictures of your years together once he had a mind for momentos. You felt your chest grow tighter at the thought that went into each page.
Five weeks had passed without a single word from him or any of the friends you now shared. You knew missions could be like this, your own father having gone AWOL for months on several different top-level occasions. And yet, it never left you feeling so empty before.
Bradley's room had stayed shut since he closed it before leaving. You had not dared to breach his privacy, despite his continual assurances that you could sleep in his bed while he was away.
“It’s practically our bed at this point, isn’t it?”
But the closeness was too much. You had needed to distance yourself from it, desperate to quiet the fright echoing in your mind. Now, you longed to drown yourself in the ghost of his presence.
Bradley had fixed up his things before leaving. Ever the neat freak, his floor was swept clean and his bedding was perfectly tucked. The only difference you spotted was a green woolen blanket peeking above one pillow.
Carole had gifted you that blanket. It had started as you needing it one night at her house and quickly became a regular borrowing occurrence. You only ever returned it when she was at her sickest. The hope was to provide her with the same compassion and encouragement she gave you as you grew up. After she passed, you didn’t think to ask where it ended up.
You clutched onto the material, desperate sobs shaking your body. Bradley had held onto it this whole time. He tucked it in safely where he had wanted you to be, to provide you the comfort you needed while he was preparing for a flight that held no guarantee of a safe return. Bradley Bradshaw was looking out for you again, just like he always had.
The weight of it all dawned on you as you lay cold as ever in that bed. How much you wished he would walk through the door, how much you yearned for the warmth of his body beside yours; how much you wished to tell him everything. In the light of your realization, nothing mattered more than the docking date just over the horizon.
but now that you've come back, turned night into day, i need you to stay.
You had wanted to go to the dock: to be the person Bradley bolted off of the ship to embrace, the one to welcome him home after weeks away. It was the silence that locked you in place. Not a single form of correspondence had reached you since he had departed. Frustration would be an easy crutch to rely on if you weren’t so riddled with fear.
Fear that your last kiss was on the front steps of his porch. Fear that you would never again hear his honeyed voice singing along to your radio. Fear that you had lost your one true companion in this life, past your ups and downs along the way.
Nat was making rounds to grab Jake, Bob, and Javy off of the carrier, anyway. “It’s no problem,” she had said when you called her not half an hour before you had been planning to leave. It was scribbled on your calendar, with a little heart that Bradley added on himself. Your eyes filled with hot tears as you stared at it.
You dreaded a knock on your door, accompanied by an officer wearing a sullen expression and desolate words that would blur in your ears. Or the sorrowful looks worn by his closest squad mates as they found you in the crowd of families and other loved ones awaiting their arrival.
The possibilities plagued any chance of restful sleep, that night above all the nights since his departure. Instead, you curled yourself against Bradley’s beat-up loveseat from college, eyes darting to the front door at every blare of headlights passing by.
The ungodly hour ticked on from the tacky bar clock on the wall: one of Goose’s favorite old house accessories. Draped around your shaky form was the blanket from Carole. Your father’s dog tags hung from your neck. Would you soon need memorabilia to remember Bradley by, too?
A soft creak of wood caught your attention, then another. Keys jingled at the front door as the lock began to turn. Tired from travels and anxious from his own arrival, Bradley trudged through the door with his bag in tow.
You barely contained your gasp, drawing his attention right to you as you lurched up from your seat. The duffel fell from his hand with a light thud on the floor. Not a second was wasted before you ran to embrace him. Bradley caught you instantly as you leaped into his open arms.
The tears you had restrained for hours fell freely into the fabric of his uniform. Your hands clung tightly around his neck, scared to ever let go.
“I’ve got you,” Bradley soothed as he felt the rush of your anxieties manifesting. “I’m right here, darlin’; I’m home.”
“I was s-so worried,” you hiccuped. “I-I didn’t hear anything, a-and I-”
“Shhh, I know. I know; I’m so sorry.” He walked you both back over to the loveseat. Falling against it, Bradley held you closer to him as his wind-chapped lips buried into your hair. A deep inhale drew you closer to his shoulder, the resulting exhale elevating you to the familiar beat of his heart.
Only a few moments passed before you began to push at his chest. He was quick to brace himself for you to sit upright in his lap. Your eyes scanning him were unreadable. Bradley rubbed the tops of your thighs, clad in his old UVA sweatpants, as he waited on you patiently.
The words were right there. They had burdened the tip of your tongue through almost every stage of your intertwined lives. No matter what the outcome would be, no excuse was great enough to keep them caged any longer. You were done keeping this final piece of yourself from the person who had already put together the rest.
“I was looking around here, while you were gone,” you sniffled. Bradley nodded as a gentle encouragement. He could read your apprehension as clear as day. Still, he would never force answers from you that you were not yet ready to give. He gave you soft and composed reassurances instead.
After taking a deep breath, you continued. “We’ve spent so much of our lives dancing around one another; our whole lives, even.” You fought to keep your eyes locked in his, despite the adrenaline beginning to race through your system. “And no matter what’s happened, and what has come between us, we have always found each other again.” Bradley nodded again, his lips curving ever so slightly upwards. His thumbs continued to trace shapes over the decades-old cotton.
“You have made my every victory a celebration, every hurdle a little easier to jump. But I was always scared.” His smile dropped, a slight frown replacing it. “I was scared of how dark it would feel to lose the way your-” You hesitated at the word, debating whether it was too powerful to use. The feel of his hands squeezing tenderly at your hips stirred your voice forward. “The way your care lights up my life.”
You finally let your chin fall, to break his piercing gaze and take a moment to collect yourself. “I have hidden myself in fear for too long. I don’t want to hide anymore.”
“I love you.” The words froze you. Processing them was not an easy feat, even more so when you had not seen him speak them. You flitted your widened eyes back up at Bradley. He was staring at you in a way you never recognized before, though no different from how he’d regarded you all along. It was only now you could put a name to it.
“I love you,” Bradley said again, to prove to you both that he really had. “You have always been my home and my safe haven from everything I've gone through.” He released his soft grip on your hips to caress your face instead, thumbs swiping at the tears still falling from your eyes. “Your love lights up my life, too.”
so now i come to you, with open arms. nothing to hide: believe what i say. so here i am, with open arms, hoping you'll see what your love means to me.
thank you for the love on open arms 🥺 it’s been a long time since i’ve been proud of a piece of writing and it means a lot to have it shared and enjoyed 🫂
🥹🥹 it’s one of my favorite songs ever because of the lyrics and i just felt so inspired by them! thank you again for this emily 🩷
open arms (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x kazansky!reader)
for @roosterforme's 80's "Rocktober" Playlist Fic Challenge!
word count: ~2.6k
warnings: top gun: maverick spoilers, mention of death/funeral, general anxiety
song inspiration: open arms by journey
a/n: thank you so much to emily for this challenge! i truly have not felt so inspired to write in such a long time so this challenge was perfect for me. (my writing’s still a bit rusty, don’t get me wrong, but practice makes perfect eh?) all my love to you always, my favorite FAVORITE tg creator <3
lying beside you, here in the dark, feeling your heart beat with mine.
It was no longer a rarity that you ended up here, nestled beneath gently worn sheets against Bradley's side. Your shared breaths tangled in the air before finding a synchronized rhythm. His steady pulse thrummed against your ear as his hand traced lazily against your side. Silence had never felt so comfortable. And yet, each night you spent in each other's embrace, your mind wrestled with what this all meant.
You couldn't pop that bubble tonight, not when tomorrow meant Bradley would be seabound once again. The reminder of his departure had you nuzzling closer to him. Part of you wished you could sink into his skin somehow; to both stay at his side and shroud yourself from the muddled emotions you kept at bay. Bradley responded to your movement with a soft kiss to the top of your head and a contented sigh slipping past his lips.
How was so relaxed, not knowing what was to come of this deployment? It was equal parts inspiring and horrifying to see the stoicism he held for his work. You knew better than most how much it meant for him to follow in the footsteps of his father. The potential dangers would never outweigh the pride and passion he felt for flying. So instead, you sat to bear the brunt of the worry whenever he was sent off.
Shifting up slightly, you dared to find his face. His eyes sparkled in the streaks of moonlight seeping from the window. They were fixed on the ceiling as if he were deep in thought.
"What's on your mind?" Bradley did not shift his gaze to you just yet. Instead, he took in another deep breath, lifting his head along the way. His exhale was exasperated and furthered your concern. You sat up more, a hand trailing behind to cup his cheek. "Bradley?" you tried again. "You know you can talk to me about anything. I would never judge you."
The eyes Bradley met you with were filled with uncertainty; and hesitation, too. If you had known any better, you would suspect his thoughts were mirroring your own. What are we? What is this? Do you feel the same as I do? What do we do about it? There were too many questions for too few hours left together. There was never enough time.
You had settled with the time you could share, the sunny days filled with laughter and the intimate nights that became second nature to you both. Any question of “more” was pushed further and further off the table with every assignment.
He gave you half a smile as he brushed your hair back from your face. "You're so sincere," he whispered. A light flush danced along your cheeks as you fought a shy smile. "You look out for me more than anyone. You always have."
"And you have for me, too," you reminded him.
we sailed on together, we drifted apart, and here you are by my side.
Naval life brought you and Bradley together. He was the son of the great and ill-fated Nick Bradshaw, while you were the daughter of the highly decorated admiral Tom Kazansky. Virginia was home to you both in the years of your youth and rarely did your mothers keep you apart as you grew. Bradley was your best friend, and him yours.
You supported him on his journey to the Navy: trained alongside him for his physicals and quizzed him on examination materials. It was in those same moments you first felt afraid, both of what could happen to him in service and what you felt blooming in your chest. Half of that fear was suspended when your Uncle Pete pulled Bradley’s papers from the naval academy. The other half buried itself deep down as you acted once again as a shoulder for the frustrations of your best friend.
The decades following saw you both through all the stages of life: college classes, breakups, graduations, careers, apartments. Though your contact waned and waxed along the way, your paths never failed to converge. Like when he was stationed in Connecticut while you were living there, or when you found him vacationing in Key West during a work trip.
Your path led you back to San Diego, once your parents based themselves there. Only weeks ago had you moved across the country to support them both as your father's condition worsened. They pushed you to take some nights for yourself, and the Hard Deck was an easy recommendation.
Despite the many twists of fate that had reunited you for years, nothing could have prepared you for the whirlwind of emotions you felt seeing Bradley there. You were fighting to catch a half-decent breath as your heart beat rapidly in your chest.
It wasn’t long before he spotted you. There was some sort of unspoken second sense you had for one another. After a warm hug and some quips from his squad mates, you two were sharing drinks and laughing together like always. It was as if no time had passed since your last serendipitous meeting. He asked about your life, and you asked about his. Your throat tightened at his reason for returning to TOP GUN, but you shoveled those feelings, like always.
They resurfaced at the closing of your father’s funeral. Your Uncle Pete took to escorting your mother away while you stood still as stone at the gravesite. All of the aviators in attendance had departed from the cemetery. All but one.
It was quiet, apart from the slight whistle of the air. You heard the careful padding of feet behind you but cared not to face the intruder. A hand along the small of your back was all you needed to know who had stayed behind. As your face scrunched up in sorrow, Bradley curled you against himself. He kept you guarded through your tears, murmuring every word of solace he thought of into your ear.
And when you urged you could not face the others in mourning, Bradley brought you to your hotel room. He held you through your grief for Tom, as you had held him through his for Carole. He promised that night to forever hold you in your hardest moments, and you shakily promised the same.
Somehow, everything felt like it would turn out okay: the loss of your father, the mission, and whatever came after. Through every peak and valley, it had always felt like that when Bradley was beside you.
living without you, living alone, this empty house feels so cold. wanting to hold you, wanting you near. how much i want to bring you home.
Housesitting seemed like a good idea in the moment. You had yet to find your own bearings on the West Coast as you kept your mother company in her grief. She was kind to open her home to you, yet you craved to return to the breadth of your independence. Crashing at an empty house gave you a taste of that.
It was a no-brainer to Bradley. By the time he had gotten his papers, you were his home’s most frequent guest. He trusted you more than anyone; though, he would never say as such to Nat. The younger lieutenant had already teased enough about her friend’s recovered friendship.
Pieces of that friendship were dotted around the house, you quickly discovered. You had tried your best to keep your mind away from it. The days not jammed with work assignments and housekeeping drew too long. No hobby or day trip could fill the void caving deep in your chest. Empty notification screens and inboxes tore it further apart.
You caved on the fifth week, finally diving into the details of the quaint beach house. Bradley had kept the memories of almost four decades perfectly preserved in so many ways. Virginia Beach carnival tickets from your teen years in a trinket box, a takeout menu from a diner in Connecticut stuffed into a desk drawer, an incredibly tacky Key West magnet hung on his fridge.
An entire photo album was dedicated to your shared Navy family: your aviator uncles and fathers, your mothers, and the pair of you. Faded tickets and receipts were pasted alongside the pictures of your years together once he had a mind for momentos. You felt your chest grow tighter at the thought that went into each page.
Five weeks had passed without a single word from him or any of the friends you now shared. You knew missions could be like this, your own father having gone AWOL for months on several different top-level occasions. And yet, it never left you feeling so empty before.
Bradley's room had stayed shut since he closed it before leaving. You had not dared to breach his privacy, despite his continual assurances that you could sleep in his bed while he was away.
“It’s practically our bed at this point, isn’t it?”
But the closeness was too much. You had needed to distance yourself from it, desperate to quiet the fright echoing in your mind. Now, you longed to drown yourself in the ghost of his presence.
Bradley had fixed up his things before leaving. Ever the neat freak, his floor was swept clean and his bedding was perfectly tucked. The only difference you spotted was a green woolen blanket peeking above one pillow.
Carole had gifted you that blanket. It had started as you needing it one night at her house and quickly became a regular borrowing occurrence. You only ever returned it when she was at her sickest. The hope was to provide her with the same compassion and encouragement she gave you as you grew up. After she passed, you didn’t think to ask where it ended up.
You clutched onto the material, desperate sobs shaking your body. Bradley had held onto it this whole time. He tucked it in safely where he had wanted you to be, to provide you the comfort you needed while he was preparing for a flight that held no guarantee of a safe return. Bradley Bradshaw was looking out for you again, just like he always had.
The weight of it all dawned on you as you lay cold as ever in that bed. How much you wished he would walk through the door, how much you yearned for the warmth of his body beside yours; how much you wished to tell him everything. In the light of your realization, nothing mattered more than the docking date just over the horizon.
but now that you've come back, turned night into day, i need you to stay.
You had wanted to go to the dock: to be the person Bradley bolted off of the ship to embrace, the one to welcome him home after weeks away. It was the silence that locked you in place. Not a single form of correspondence had reached you since he had departed. Frustration would be an easy crutch to rely on if you weren’t so riddled with fear.
Fear that your last kiss was on the front steps of his porch. Fear that you would never again hear his honeyed voice singing along to your radio. Fear that you had lost your one true companion in this life, past your ups and downs along the way.
Nat was making rounds to grab Jake, Bob, and Javy off of the carrier, anyway. “It’s no problem,” she had said when you called her not half an hour before you had been planning to leave. It was scribbled on your calendar, with a little heart that Bradley added on himself. Your eyes filled with hot tears as you stared at it.
You dreaded a knock on your door, accompanied by an officer wearing a sullen expression and desolate words that would blur in your ears. Or the sorrowful looks worn by his closest squad mates as they found you in the crowd of families and other loved ones awaiting their arrival.
The possibilities plagued any chance of restful sleep, that night above all the nights since his departure. Instead, you curled yourself against Bradley’s beat-up loveseat from college, eyes darting to the front door at every blare of headlights passing by.
The ungodly hour ticked on from the tacky bar clock on the wall: one of Goose’s favorite old house accessories. Draped around your shaky form was the blanket from Carole. Your father’s dog tags hung from your neck. Would you soon need memorabilia to remember Bradley by, too?
A soft creak of wood caught your attention, then another. Keys jingled at the front door as the lock began to turn. Tired from travels and anxious from his own arrival, Bradley trudged through the door with his bag in tow.
You barely contained your gasp, drawing his attention right to you as you lurched up from your seat. The duffel fell from his hand with a light thud on the floor. Not a second was wasted before you ran to embrace him. Bradley caught you instantly as you leaped into his open arms.
The tears you had restrained for hours fell freely into the fabric of his uniform. Your hands clung tightly around his neck, scared to ever let go.
“I’ve got you,” Bradley soothed as he felt the rush of your anxieties manifesting. “I’m right here, darlin’; I’m home.”
“I was s-so worried,” you hiccuped. “I-I didn’t hear anything, a-and I-”
“Shhh, I know. I know; I’m so sorry.” He walked you both back over to the loveseat. Falling against it, Bradley held you closer to him as his wind-chapped lips buried into your hair. A deep inhale drew you closer to his shoulder, the resulting exhale elevating you to the familiar beat of his heart.
Only a few moments passed before you began to push at his chest. He was quick to brace himself for you to sit upright in his lap. Your eyes scanning him were unreadable. Bradley rubbed the tops of your thighs, clad in his old UVA sweatpants, as he waited on you patiently.
The words were right there. They had burdened the tip of your tongue through almost every stage of your intertwined lives. No matter what the outcome would be, no excuse was great enough to keep them caged any longer. You were done keeping this final piece of yourself from the person who had already put together the rest.
“I was looking around here, while you were gone,” you sniffled. Bradley nodded as a gentle encouragement. He could read your apprehension as clear as day. Still, he would never force answers from you that you were not yet ready to give. He gave you soft and composed reassurances instead.
After taking a deep breath, you continued. “We’ve spent so much of our lives dancing around one another; our whole lives, even.” You fought to keep your eyes locked in his, despite the adrenaline beginning to race through your system. “And no matter what’s happened, and what has come between us, we have always found each other again.” Bradley nodded again, his lips curving ever so slightly upwards. His thumbs continued to trace shapes over the decades-old cotton.
“You have made my every victory a celebration, every hurdle a little easier to jump. But I was always scared.” His smile dropped, a slight frown replacing it. “I was scared of how dark it would feel to lose the way your-” You hesitated at the word, debating whether it was too powerful to use. The feel of his hands squeezing tenderly at your hips stirred your voice forward. “The way your care lights up my life.”
You finally let your chin fall, to break his piercing gaze and take a moment to collect yourself. “I have hidden myself in fear for too long. I don’t want to hide anymore.”
“I love you.” The words froze you. Processing them was not an easy feat, even more so when you had not seen him speak them. You flitted your widened eyes back up at Bradley. He was staring at you in a way you never recognized before, though no different from how he’d regarded you all along. It was only now you could put a name to it.
“I love you,” Bradley said again, to prove to you both that he really had. “You have always been my home and my safe haven from everything I've gone through.” He released his soft grip on your hips to caress your face instead, thumbs swiping at the tears still falling from your eyes. “Your love lights up my life, too.”
so now i come to you, with open arms. nothing to hide: believe what i say. so here i am, with open arms, hoping you'll see what your love means to me.
getting a new bradley idea 🤭 angsty comfort ofc bc that’s almost all i know
but if anyone wants to pop some suggestions or concepts for me to write on in my inbox, i would love to toy around with some ideas!
to be edited and properly written but !!
i have my whole new bradley fic detail outlined. now to actually write it...
mine too emily 😅 i hope you enjoyed! perhaps we could visit bradley and “frost” another time to see how they managed.. with more angst of course.
life for two
pairings: platonic pete "maverick" mitchell x kazansky!reader, bradley "rooster" bradshaw x kazansky!reader
word count: ~0.6k
warnings: pregnancy, allusions to grief, top gun: maverick spoilers, allusions to anxiety and ptsd
a/n: there is an incredibly detailed collection by @ofstoriesandstardust revolving around a mitchell!reader x rooster where her godfather is iceman, but i have been pondering the idea of if the roles were reversed for a hot minute. i VERY highly recommend reading through the same mistakes-verse if you are a tg:m fan as this collection does an incredible job of expanding upon the characters we love so much from a different perspective. but this is my little self-indulgent spin on things.
song inspo: life for two by brandon jenner
A light knock broke Maverick’s focus on the reports scattered across his desk. The captain peered up to spot his intruder, eyes softening at the figure standing timidly in the doorway.
“Frost,” Maverick chimed. Her presence was always a welcome one, to be sure, but her demeanor was worrying to him. Ice’s daughter had always stood with as much pride as her father did in his earliest days at Top Gun. There was something off about her now, with her shoulders slumped and her fingers fiddling at her sides. Rather than a grown woman, Maverick thought he was looking at a frightened child.
“Uncle Mav,” she tried, voice already shaking. What had happened? How had his goddaughter been reduced to such an open state of fragility? Not even on her father’s funeral day did she let her resilience go. Maverick crossed the room in quick strides before tugging her inside and shutting the door behind them both.
He let her get settled on the small couch before sitting beside her. Maverick’s eyes didn’t budge from their fixation on her worrying expression. Frostbite couldn’t quite meet his gaze. Her hands continued to fidget frantically, wringing back and forth in an attempt to steady herself. Still, not a drop of her nerves relented.
Maverick tried calling out her name. He was now getting scared. Ice reacted similarly when telling him his cancer had come back. Was similar glum news awaiting him at the end of this conversation? “What’s going on, kid? Talk to me.”
At last, Frostbite looked up at her godfather. Tears were beginning to break along her lashline. It sent a cold shock through Maverick. But before he could press further, she spoke. “I’m pregnant.”
Oh. Oh. The news itself wasn’t entirely jarring. His goddaughter and godson had been together for quite some time, happy as can be. What was jarring was the fear that seemed to freeze one of the most fearless people he’d ever seen.
Maverick offered a soft smile in response. “Frost, that’s great. You’ve wanted kiddos for you and Bradley since you were kiddos.” He gently clapped a hand on her shoulder, feeling the muscle tense beneath his touch almost instantly.
“What if he doesn’t want it?” Every word came out shaking. “What if he does, but another deployment comes up? What if he never makes it home?” Some of the tears Frost had been holding back slipped down her paling cheeks. Doubts and worst-case scenarios had been running marathons in her mind ever since that little plastic stick showed two dark lines. Giving voice to these ideas was only making them seem that much more plausible.
Frostbite did not give Pete the time to counter before she went on, her next words chilling him to the bone. “He should be here.”
Maverick knew she did not mean Bradley. Sure, Sarah was still ever-present and well in their lives even in the face of ultimate grief. But what little girl imagined going through a pregnancy without her father there? Walking down the aisle at her wedding without his arm linked through hers? Raising his grandchild who would never know his warm embrace?
A sob brought him back to the moment. Frostbite was bent forward, hands pressed against her head as her body shook with every cry struggling to surface. It broke his heart to see her, even now, trying to hold some composure.
“Come here,” he beckoned. Maverick softly tugged her to lean against his side, arms wrapping around her trembling form. Frost tucked her face against his jacket as she finally let go of all she had been holding back: all of the sadness, anger, denial, and resentment that came with grief.
Pete held her close, letting some tears of his own fall as the pair grieved for the man who tied them together.
-
i might write a part 2 where frostbite actually tells bradley that she is pregnant but this is all my mind will let me get away with for now. i hope someone enjoys >.<
as usual (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)
word count: ~3.7k
synposis: the time for you to meet the Hard Deck, and the Daggers frequenting it, has finally come. but some digs on the oldest aviator of the bunch in front of his younger partner leave a tension between you that begs to be broken.
warnings: age gap (unspecified but in my mind was about 10 years), assumed alcohol consumption, allusions to anxiety, use of the pet name "bunny", jake is an instigator
a/n: this was NOT going to be this long in my head but once i got writing i could not stop.. enjoy some more self-indulgent comfort angst from me!
As usual, Bradley pulled up to your apartment complex right after a long day on base. And as usual, you were standing in the window like a pup waiting for its owner to come home. He made the comparison in earnest. It melted him to know someone was that excited to have him near, that you were that excited to have him near.
He could barely make it out of the Bronco before you were bounding out your door and down the stairs. Bradley had just rounded the passenger side when you reached him. The sinking sun somehow made your eyes sparkle brighter. Butterflies flew in his stomach, and a lovestruck grin spread across his face. Gentle hands caressed your hips as his caramel gaze took you in closely.
"Did you manage to lock the door?" Bradley teased. You softly grunted at the dig, feigning annoyance in a half frown. The front door and you were nothing if not eternal foes, and Bradley knew of this conflict too well.
"I resent that, I really do." His responding laugh was all it took to break your weak facade. A smile overtook you as you lit up once again to be in his presence. Your hands found home at the base of his neck as your lips greeted each other. Seconds moved in hours whenever you kissed Bradley Bradshaw. He made the noise of the world lift into a soft hum with every touch.
It was understandable that you whined whenever he pulled away. "We're gonna be late," Bradley bargained. Your mouth fell into a soft pout that he was happy to peck away into a smile, and into giggles once his lips found your cheeks, and nose, and temples.
"I thought you said we'd be late!" you laughed as you batted him away to slip into the passenger side. He held the door open for you, like the gentleman Carole had raised him to be. Then he bent to kiss you more softly, like the gentleman his father was.
"You are always worth it." You couldn't fight the flush that broke onto your cheeks to crowd the makeup already present. Blush served little purpose with Bradley lighting your cheeks aflame every chance he got. Nor highlighter, with the glow you seemed to emanate since the day he walked into your life.
His hand found home on your thigh, yours placed atop it to toy with his calloused fingers. The Bronco drove off to the famed bar where he and his naval companions flocked. Such companions were eager to meet the girl who settled their "Rooster" into domestic life.
"Cupid's sure been hard at work," Phoenix remarked upon catching her best friend cheesing at the texts you sent him. Whatever force in the world brought you to him, be it Cupid or God or Nick and Carole themselves, he was grateful. Never had he felt so complete.
"How was work today, bunny?" Bradley asked. A simple question most would roll their eyes at, you jumped to answer. You were eager to tell him of every detail: the pesky clientele, the interdepartmental dramas, even how poorly the coffee was brewed. Excitement ran through you and, by proxy, to Bradley. "Bunny" was a nod to the energy that filled you and energized others, much like the battery mascot.
Your anecdotes filled the minutes driving through the bustle of San Diego rush hour. Bradley glanced over at you every chance he got, adding in commentary where he saw fit but mostly admiring the expressions taking over your face.
He could listen to you ramble for hours, he was certain, as you did for him in his own moments of boundless vigor. An equal partnership seemed unattainable with the women he'd met through the years yet came easily with you.
What place did age have to stall a feeling like that?
-
Some last-minute Bronco kisses had you and Bradley walking into the Hard Deck five minutes behind schedule. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand tucked into the front pocket of your jeans to keep you snug against his side. Still, he let you lead the way, content to follow you wherever you found your feet.
You gawked at the space already half packed with people in uniform, a few civilians bridging the gaps. Various signs and regalia littered the space between windows. The perfect sunset view of the beach was on every wall. Miniature aircraft figures crowded the ceiling in permanent flight.
"Is this place for real?" you remarked, earning a kiss on your cheek from Bradley.
"That it is, bunny. As far back as my pops and Maverick," he answered, stopping as he caught his first familiar face. Bradley took the moment to lead you, bringing you to an open space at the bar. "And now in the hands of this lovely lady here. You remember-"
"Penny!" The excitement in your voice brightened the owner right up. Bradley's heart performed somersaults at your cheer. "This place is incredible!"
Penny tried to humble herself under your praise. "Hey, it's the nicest Navy daycare I could imagine." You giggled at the quip, making her break a smile. You quizzed her on her run of the bar as she pulled a draft for Bradley and mixed a margarita for you. The two of you initially met when Bradley brought you to Maverick's hangar. She was just as endeared then as she was now by your bright spirit and compassion for others.
Once you were settled with your drinks, you attempted to tip her out. Penny was quick to push the cash back at you with a wink. "On the house for you tonight. Call it my welcome gift." You must have thanked her half a dozen times as you moved across the bar. A small table against the wall was your target; somewhere to ground your drinks for when you inevitably got spotted-
"Bradshaw!" The time came sooner than you predicted. A brunette tagged with a name you'd heard too many times to count found her way to you. A man in true aviator glasses followed closely behind. Part of you tensed in anticipation. Still, your outgoing nature won over any resistance.
"Phoenix? Bradley has told me so much about you!" You reached out a hand to her. Her eyes slowly followed the gesture as if examining it.
Phoenix took her time to speak up. "So you're the one who's got Bradshaw off in la-la land?"
You blinked, trying to read into her tone. "I-I think so?"
"Phoenix, play nice," Bradley warned. She scoffed at him, finally grabbing your hand to shake.
"I haven't seen the old bird this happy in ages," Phoenix said as she met your eyes. A real smile tugged at her mouth. You were quick to mirror it as you relaxed. "Keep him that way; he flies better."
Bob followed up with his own introduction. It was hard for Bradley to contain his joy at the moment, even with the slight brows Phoenix threw his way. He hadn't told her the details of the age difference in passing; he hadn't thought it important. Bob was none the wiser, simply offering a game of darts to share amongst the four of them.
"Oh, I LOVE darts!" you exclaimed. "But be warned, it's rare that I actually hit the board."
Phoenix chuckled. "Your boy's not too good himself. We ought to split you apart so Bob and I are more evenly matched." Bradley rolled his eyes, though the interaction had his heart soaring. You were happy as can be getting to know his closest friends. They seemed happy as can be getting to know you.
Questions were passed between throws, Bob asking about your work and Phoenix asking about your relationship. It was the kindest form of interrogation you could've envisioned. Meanwhile, the empty pool table behind you was beckoning another group of aviators in your direction.
The tallest of the trio, a man with a square jaw and dark eyes, was quick to single you out. "Now, who's this pretty young thing you guys rounded up to play?"
You turned to make his acquaintance briefly, your usual cheery demeanor receding some. No person with words like that would get the better of you. Instead, you drew in a breath as you threw the last dart of your turn, hitting a triple ring in the process.
"Bradley!" you squealed. He drew you in happily as you jumped into his embrace. "Did you see?! Did you see?!"
An answer was pressed to your lips, leaving you breathless in the aftermath. Bradley hummed at your slightly dazed expression. "That's my girl."
He felt the stares of Harvard, Fanboy, and Coyote burning holes into the floral print shirt he adorned. No mind was paid to any of them, though; not until you solicited it yourself. "You must be more of Bradley's.. coworkers?"
The man of middle height held his hand out for you with a charming grin. "Lieutenant Javy Machado, or 'Coyote' if you'd rather." You were introduced to the other two, with Harvard taking some quizzical glances your way.
"I can't help but wonder, how'd you get shacked up with this fossil?" The audience around you laughed, Bradley included. He had mentioned he was a bit older than his team, giving rationale to the jest and the 'old bird' comment Phoenix made earlier. Still, something in these remarks began to itch you. You were quick to table the feeling, certain it was only your misunderstanding among old friends.
You went on to indulge them in the story of your mildly embarrassing meet-cute. A few other aviators popped in to make their introductions, Payback and Omaha namedly. It seemed that each of them, in due time, had to take their shot at ragging on Bradley's age. He brushed each one-liner off in spades, settling any greater debate with an amused chuckle rather than a defense.
The itch in you was replaced by a gnawing in your gut. You worked to suppress it as best as you could, wanting to make a perfect evening for your partner: the one who kissed you when you shot well in darts and pulled you to the piano to serenade you front and center.
But the words echoing in your ears began to shrink you in your bearings. Suddenly, you had little to say in response to any harmless question. You certainly had less to say as Harvard and Hangman were questioning why you were with Bradley "of all people". Bradley himself had gone to the bathroom, trusting you would be safe and at ease in the company of his friends. It was only upon his return that he was made to see how wrong he'd been.
Bob, the perfect wallflower, had noted the shift in your behavior. He stood by and watched as the dazzling person he was first introduced to started to lose their spark. The WSO watched as you tried to fake smiles and laugh along to the jokes cracked. None of it reached your gaze that began to dart around, as if looking for refuge. Bradley was clueless, too caught up in the moment of his worlds merging to notice one was falling back.
He returned from the bathroom and attempted to dart to your side, stopped only by Bob's light grip on his arm. "Rooster, something's up with your girl." Bradley froze. He scanned the bar, locking onto where you sat with a pair of his friends. Confusion filled him. The night had gone so well. You were getting along with everyone, even Hangman. What could possibly be wrong?
"Just trust me," Bob pleaded, practically seeing the calculations Bradley was attempting in his head. It was seeing your hands nervously fiddling together that confirmed to him Bob was right. He clapped his friend's shoulder, uttering a gracious thanks before making his way over to you.
"Mind if I cut in?" It was nothing more than a courtesy. Bradley would not let you stew in your own head a second longer. "I think we ought to be heading out soon, bunny."
Bradley outstretched his hand to you, which you gladly placed yours into. He pulled you up from the booth with ease and waved his goodbyes to the pair left at the table.
Hangman would not settle for courtesies. "Aww, come on, old man; can't you let her stay out past curfew?"
You barely had a breath to react before Bradley did with yet another chuckle. If nothing churned your stomach that night, the sound of his amusement at this running gag did. You managed your goodbyes to everyone in passing well enough as you exited the bar. The Bronco was a relieving and suffocating sight at the same time.
Silence: that was all Bradley had been given as he led you to his car. A frown fixed on his face. You were keeping a firm distance between the two of you where normally there would be none. Your fingers danced with each other in a nervous rhythm where normally they were laced with his own. Something was seriously wrong, but he hadn't the faintest idea as to what.
Bradley held the passenger door open for you, as usual, and had to hold back a gracious sigh as you let him. You would not so much as look at him since leaving his friends, but he held onto the simple gesture as a sign of hope.
He dared to lean in to catch your lips against his, only to be met by the soft skin of your cheek. Bradley stuttered backward. You had turned away from his kiss.
"Take me home, Rooster." An icy cold poured through him. You had met him in uniform, full with his "Rooster" embellishment, but had never once used the name. And he was starting to wish you never had, for the distant feeling it brought chilled him to the bone.
Bradley hopped into his seat and got the Bronco in motion toward your apartment. Maybe you needed the fresh air and the sights of the city to cool off, he thought. However, with each mile, the tension was growing thicker. He felt it in the silence walling you from him. He felt it as your quad contracted under his subconscious grip, so much that he was growing nauseous himself.
Bradley was a worrywort by default. It's why he hesitated in the air. It's why he hesitated with almost everything in his life. You had been the one piece of his existence that brought him such thoughtless bliss. Had he been too thoughtless to not notice where things were souring?
As quickly as you had raced down, you were flying up the stairs to your apartment. The thud of the passenger door slamming startled him. Bradley barely parked by the time you were halfway up the flight. He locked the doors and jogged up in the path you'd made.
His stature made it fairly easy to catch up to you. That, and the fumbling of your fingers with your key in the villainized deadbolt. You were cursing silently to yourself as you tried and failed to get the lock to turn just right. Tears began to blur your vision, making the simple task even more frustrating.
Bradley's voice was gentle, apologetic already. "Here, let me-"
"Just go home, Rooster; I don't need a fucking babysitter!"
Your response comes out sharp and cold. Your use of his callsign half an hour ago might have chilled him, but this sudden outburst froze him from the inside out. It wasn't long until you froze up yourself and realized the words you let fly.
"Whoa.. where did that come from?"
Bradley didn't receive an answer; not verbally, at least. The only response he received from you was the clutter of your keys against the ground as you tucked your chin into your chest. Soft whimpers began to shake your frame. Within seconds, your resolve gave way to desperate cries pouring from your throat. Bradley's heart cracked.
He moved into action, tucking you into his broad chest and letting you lean your weight into him. Light shushes and repetitions of "It's alright" rushed to console you. Bradley held you upright with one arm as he bent over to swipe your keys into his grasp.
"Come on; let's get inside, yeah?" he cooed as he stood back up. You said nothing and continued to cry into his white tank. Mascara stains were sure to form, but he couldn't care less.
Bradley got your door unlocked in a single try. He propped you safely against the wall as he locked the entry behind himself. You felt like you were floating with his help to get to the couch. There was no resistance or fight in you; only fear.
His hands were on your knees, rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin your jeans exposed. Bradley knelt down in front of you. He waited for you, any tell that you were ready to talk, as long as you needed.
You gathered a hiccuped breath as your sobs faded to sniffles. Your trembling hands reached for him, feeling the warmth of his grasp almost instantly. Bradley gingerly kissed your knuckles on each hand. "Talk to me, bunny." Head lifting, you finally met his worried stare. "What's going on?"
It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, as you tried to form the words, you felt a rush of embarrassment. How ridiculous was it to get so worked up over some lighthearted fun? There was no reason for you to have this sick feeling in your stomach over it.
"Hey," Bradley called, moving a hand up to hold your cheek. His thumb swept at the tears still pouring from your lash line. You hadn't noticed your line of sight drifting away from him with your train of thought. As you found his face again, you saw greater desperation. He ached to know, to help. "Talk to me. Please."
And you did. Grabbing onto his hand with both of yours, you released a heavy sigh. "Tonight was great. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. They all seem like really good people, a-and I'm glad you have them in your life to support you."
Bradley managed a sad smile. Even through your own pains, you were searching for the best to make of the situation for him. He squeezed your hands holding his to comfort you in letting the other shoe drop.
"But.. I-I know you're older than them. I'm sure that, that they make those jokes around you a lot, and did way before you met me. It just.." You stopped yourself, shaking your head as if to shake the thought away. "It's probably so stupid-"
"It's not stupid if it's got you this upset."
Oh, Bradley. The only man you'd ever encountered who genuinely yearned to empathize with you at every struggle or hardship. The person who encouraged you to feel things through in a healthy manner instead of immediately pointing blame at yourself for feeling it at all. No person at any age topped the level of emotional care and safety he provided you.
Your words started to flood out, mixing together in disarray. Yet, Bradley listened intently to every fragmented sentence you gave. "I care about you. So much, B; so much it's scary sometimes. And I don't ever think of the years between us because it's all meaningless, you know? The way I feel for you, and how I think you feel for me. We each have our shit sorted, there's no weird power dynamic bullshit going on."
He restrained a laugh at your frank vocabulary. It was one of the things he admired most about you. When your feelings spilled out, there was never a filter. You expressed yourself entirely authentically. That's why your earlier silence frightened him into his own.
That was not to say your troubles were easy for him to hear, because they weren't. Who wanted to hear that the person they loved ever doubted as such?
"All those jokes… I don't want your friends to not take me seriously. That I'm with you for any reason other than you make my life so much better just by being in it, and I hope to god I can do the same for you. I don't need you to take care of me, be my 'sugar daddy' or anything like that. And-" You pursed your lips as another sob caught in your throat.
Bradley leaned in to kiss your forehead, so tenderly it sent chills down your spine. Your lips parted to release that choked cry. "I-I was scared when you just.. just laughed with them, that, that you didn't take me seriously e-either."
The words were a knife in his chest. "Oh, baby, no," he nearly gasped. "No, no; I never have thought like that, bunny."
You began to cry once more; out of the feelings you'd held that evening, out of the faint insecurity you'd held the months you'd spent together, and out of relief to hear him reassure you. The mix of emotions was blowing you over.
"Can I come up there, baby? Can I hold you?" Your answer was in the frantic way you pulled at his hands. Bradley fell into your ragged loveseat in an instant, tugging you into his lap as you wept. He rubbed up and down your back and pressed kisses into your hair to soothe you.
His voice was warped with his own emotion when he spoke next. "I'm so sorry I ever made you doubt how I feel about you. You are worth so much more than your age." He cupped your cheek again to meet your watery gaze with his own.
"You're incredible. The way you navigate life so carefree and full of light, and how you pass that feeling onto everyone you meet. How you care about everyone you meet and effortlessly brighten their day. How you care about me so much that you're this worried that I don't know it."
Your tears rolled freely onto the skin of his fingers, your body jolting with hiccups. And Bradley thought you were every bit as beautiful as you'd ever been.
"But I do. And I will treasure that, I will treasure you, every day of my life." Your responding smile was the most welcome sight. It cleared up the dark clouds that were looming overhead to shine brightly on whatever was to come. As usual.
-
a/n: this was very VERY loosely proofread but i am open to feedback and suggestions! thank you all for reading <3
tags: @roosterforme, @avengersfan25
i’ve been wanting to mess with older men tbh 😅 but yes! i was trying very hard to manage that fine line of acknowledging the difference but ultimately ruling it out as any deciding factor of their relationship. bradley is secure in himself and so is his partner! she just had a moment under all that teasing, but he was more than happy to reassure her.
thank you for the support and i hope you can find a better man like bradley 🫂
as usual (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)
word count: ~3.7k
synposis: the time for you to meet the Hard Deck, and the Daggers frequenting it, has finally come. but some digs on the oldest aviator of the bunch in front of his younger partner leave a tension between you that begs to be broken.
warnings: age gap (unspecified but in my mind was about 10 years), assumed alcohol consumption, allusions to anxiety, use of the pet name "bunny", jake is an instigator
a/n: this was NOT going to be this long in my head but once i got writing i could not stop.. enjoy some more self-indulgent comfort angst from me!
As usual, Bradley pulled up to your apartment complex right after a long day on base. And as usual, you were standing in the window like a pup waiting for its owner to come home. He made the comparison in earnest. It melted him to know someone was that excited to have him near, that you were that excited to have him near.
He could barely make it out of the Bronco before you were bounding out your door and down the stairs. Bradley had just rounded the passenger side when you reached him. The sinking sun somehow made your eyes sparkle brighter. Butterflies flew in his stomach, and a lovestruck grin spread across his face. Gentle hands caressed your hips as his caramel gaze took you in closely.
"Did you manage to lock the door?" Bradley teased. You softly grunted at the dig, feigning annoyance in a half frown. The front door and you were nothing if not eternal foes, and Bradley knew of this conflict too well.
"I resent that, I really do." His responding laugh was all it took to break your weak facade. A smile overtook you as you lit up once again to be in his presence. Your hands found home at the base of his neck as your lips greeted each other. Seconds moved in hours whenever you kissed Bradley Bradshaw. He made the noise of the world lift into a soft hum with every touch.
It was understandable that you whined whenever he pulled away. "We're gonna be late," Bradley bargained. Your mouth fell into a soft pout that he was happy to peck away into a smile, and into giggles once his lips found your cheeks, and nose, and temples.
"I thought you said we'd be late!" you laughed as you batted him away to slip into the passenger side. He held the door open for you, like the gentleman Carole had raised him to be. Then he bent to kiss you more softly, like the gentleman his father was.
"You are always worth it." You couldn't fight the flush that broke onto your cheeks to crowd the makeup already present. Blush served little purpose with Bradley lighting your cheeks aflame every chance he got. Nor highlighter, with the glow you seemed to emanate since the day he walked into your life.
His hand found home on your thigh, yours placed atop it to toy with his calloused fingers. The Bronco drove off to the famed bar where he and his naval companions flocked. Such companions were eager to meet the girl who settled their "Rooster" into domestic life.
"Cupid's sure been hard at work," Phoenix remarked upon catching her best friend cheesing at the texts you sent him. Whatever force in the world brought you to him, be it Cupid or God or Nick and Carole themselves, he was grateful. Never had he felt so complete.
"How was work today, bunny?" Bradley asked. A simple question most would roll their eyes at, you jumped to answer. You were eager to tell him of every detail: the pesky clientele, the interdepartmental dramas, even how poorly the coffee was brewed. Excitement ran through you and, by proxy, to Bradley. "Bunny" was a nod to the energy that filled you and energized others, much like the battery mascot.
Your anecdotes filled the minutes driving through the bustle of San Diego rush hour. Bradley glanced over at you every chance he got, adding in commentary where he saw fit but mostly admiring the expressions taking over your face.
He could listen to you ramble for hours, he was certain, as you did for him in his own moments of boundless vigor. An equal partnership seemed unattainable with the women he'd met through the years yet came easily with you.
What place did age have to stall a feeling like that?
-
Some last-minute Bronco kisses had you and Bradley walking into the Hard Deck five minutes behind schedule. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand tucked into the front pocket of your jeans to keep you snug against his side. Still, he let you lead the way, content to follow you wherever you found your feet.
You gawked at the space already half packed with people in uniform, a few civilians bridging the gaps. Various signs and regalia littered the space between windows. The perfect sunset view of the beach was on every wall. Miniature aircraft figures crowded the ceiling in permanent flight.
"Is this place for real?" you remarked, earning a kiss on your cheek from Bradley.
"That it is, bunny. As far back as my pops and Maverick," he answered, stopping as he caught his first familiar face. Bradley took the moment to lead you, bringing you to an open space at the bar. "And now in the hands of this lovely lady here. You remember-"
"Penny!" The excitement in your voice brightened the owner right up. Bradley's heart performed somersaults at your cheer. "This place is incredible!"
Penny tried to humble herself under your praise. "Hey, it's the nicest Navy daycare I could imagine." You giggled at the quip, making her break a smile. You quizzed her on her run of the bar as she pulled a draft for Bradley and mixed a margarita for you. The two of you initially met when Bradley brought you to Maverick's hangar. She was just as endeared then as she was now by your bright spirit and compassion for others.
Once you were settled with your drinks, you attempted to tip her out. Penny was quick to push the cash back at you with a wink. "On the house for you tonight. Call it my welcome gift." You must have thanked her half a dozen times as you moved across the bar. A small table against the wall was your target; somewhere to ground your drinks for when you inevitably got spotted-
"Bradshaw!" The time came sooner than you predicted. A brunette tagged with a name you'd heard too many times to count found her way to you. A man in true aviator glasses followed closely behind. Part of you tensed in anticipation. Still, your outgoing nature won over any resistance.
"Phoenix? Bradley has told me so much about you!" You reached out a hand to her. Her eyes slowly followed the gesture as if examining it.
Phoenix took her time to speak up. "So you're the one who's got Bradshaw off in la-la land?"
You blinked, trying to read into her tone. "I-I think so?"
"Phoenix, play nice," Bradley warned. She scoffed at him, finally grabbing your hand to shake.
"I haven't seen the old bird this happy in ages," Phoenix said as she met your eyes. A real smile tugged at her mouth. You were quick to mirror it as you relaxed. "Keep him that way; he flies better."
Bob followed up with his own introduction. It was hard for Bradley to contain his joy at the moment, even with the slight brows Phoenix threw his way. He hadn't told her the details of the age difference in passing; he hadn't thought it important. Bob was none the wiser, simply offering a game of darts to share amongst the four of them.
"Oh, I LOVE darts!" you exclaimed. "But be warned, it's rare that I actually hit the board."
Phoenix chuckled. "Your boy's not too good himself. We ought to split you apart so Bob and I are more evenly matched." Bradley rolled his eyes, though the interaction had his heart soaring. You were happy as can be getting to know his closest friends. They seemed happy as can be getting to know you.
Questions were passed between throws, Bob asking about your work and Phoenix asking about your relationship. It was the kindest form of interrogation you could've envisioned. Meanwhile, the empty pool table behind you was beckoning another group of aviators in your direction.
The tallest of the trio, a man with a square jaw and dark eyes, was quick to single you out. "Now, who's this pretty young thing you guys rounded up to play?"
You turned to make his acquaintance briefly, your usual cheery demeanor receding some. No person with words like that would get the better of you. Instead, you drew in a breath as you threw the last dart of your turn, hitting a triple ring in the process.
"Bradley!" you squealed. He drew you in happily as you jumped into his embrace. "Did you see?! Did you see?!"
An answer was pressed to your lips, leaving you breathless in the aftermath. Bradley hummed at your slightly dazed expression. "That's my girl."
He felt the stares of Harvard, Fanboy, and Coyote burning holes into the floral print shirt he adorned. No mind was paid to any of them, though; not until you solicited it yourself. "You must be more of Bradley's.. coworkers?"
The man of middle height held his hand out for you with a charming grin. "Lieutenant Javy Machado, or 'Coyote' if you'd rather." You were introduced to the other two, with Harvard taking some quizzical glances your way.
"I can't help but wonder, how'd you get shacked up with this fossil?" The audience around you laughed, Bradley included. He had mentioned he was a bit older than his team, giving rationale to the jest and the 'old bird' comment Phoenix made earlier. Still, something in these remarks began to itch you. You were quick to table the feeling, certain it was only your misunderstanding among old friends.
You went on to indulge them in the story of your mildly embarrassing meet-cute. A few other aviators popped in to make their introductions, Payback and Omaha namedly. It seemed that each of them, in due time, had to take their shot at ragging on Bradley's age. He brushed each one-liner off in spades, settling any greater debate with an amused chuckle rather than a defense.
The itch in you was replaced by a gnawing in your gut. You worked to suppress it as best as you could, wanting to make a perfect evening for your partner: the one who kissed you when you shot well in darts and pulled you to the piano to serenade you front and center.
But the words echoing in your ears began to shrink you in your bearings. Suddenly, you had little to say in response to any harmless question. You certainly had less to say as Harvard and Hangman were questioning why you were with Bradley "of all people". Bradley himself had gone to the bathroom, trusting you would be safe and at ease in the company of his friends. It was only upon his return that he was made to see how wrong he'd been.
Bob, the perfect wallflower, had noted the shift in your behavior. He stood by and watched as the dazzling person he was first introduced to started to lose their spark. The WSO watched as you tried to fake smiles and laugh along to the jokes cracked. None of it reached your gaze that began to dart around, as if looking for refuge. Bradley was clueless, too caught up in the moment of his worlds merging to notice one was falling back.
He returned from the bathroom and attempted to dart to your side, stopped only by Bob's light grip on his arm. "Rooster, something's up with your girl." Bradley froze. He scanned the bar, locking onto where you sat with a pair of his friends. Confusion filled him. The night had gone so well. You were getting along with everyone, even Hangman. What could possibly be wrong?
"Just trust me," Bob pleaded, practically seeing the calculations Bradley was attempting in his head. It was seeing your hands nervously fiddling together that confirmed to him Bob was right. He clapped his friend's shoulder, uttering a gracious thanks before making his way over to you.
"Mind if I cut in?" It was nothing more than a courtesy. Bradley would not let you stew in your own head a second longer. "I think we ought to be heading out soon, bunny."
Bradley outstretched his hand to you, which you gladly placed yours into. He pulled you up from the booth with ease and waved his goodbyes to the pair left at the table.
Hangman would not settle for courtesies. "Aww, come on, old man; can't you let her stay out past curfew?"
You barely had a breath to react before Bradley did with yet another chuckle. If nothing churned your stomach that night, the sound of his amusement at this running gag did. You managed your goodbyes to everyone in passing well enough as you exited the bar. The Bronco was a relieving and suffocating sight at the same time.
Silence: that was all Bradley had been given as he led you to his car. A frown fixed on his face. You were keeping a firm distance between the two of you where normally there would be none. Your fingers danced with each other in a nervous rhythm where normally they were laced with his own. Something was seriously wrong, but he hadn't the faintest idea as to what.
Bradley held the passenger door open for you, as usual, and had to hold back a gracious sigh as you let him. You would not so much as look at him since leaving his friends, but he held onto the simple gesture as a sign of hope.
He dared to lean in to catch your lips against his, only to be met by the soft skin of your cheek. Bradley stuttered backward. You had turned away from his kiss.
"Take me home, Rooster." An icy cold poured through him. You had met him in uniform, full with his "Rooster" embellishment, but had never once used the name. And he was starting to wish you never had, for the distant feeling it brought chilled him to the bone.
Bradley hopped into his seat and got the Bronco in motion toward your apartment. Maybe you needed the fresh air and the sights of the city to cool off, he thought. However, with each mile, the tension was growing thicker. He felt it in the silence walling you from him. He felt it as your quad contracted under his subconscious grip, so much that he was growing nauseous himself.
Bradley was a worrywort by default. It's why he hesitated in the air. It's why he hesitated with almost everything in his life. You had been the one piece of his existence that brought him such thoughtless bliss. Had he been too thoughtless to not notice where things were souring?
As quickly as you had raced down, you were flying up the stairs to your apartment. The thud of the passenger door slamming startled him. Bradley barely parked by the time you were halfway up the flight. He locked the doors and jogged up in the path you'd made.
His stature made it fairly easy to catch up to you. That, and the fumbling of your fingers with your key in the villainized deadbolt. You were cursing silently to yourself as you tried and failed to get the lock to turn just right. Tears began to blur your vision, making the simple task even more frustrating.
Bradley's voice was gentle, apologetic already. "Here, let me-"
"Just go home, Rooster; I don't need a fucking babysitter!"
Your response comes out sharp and cold. Your use of his callsign half an hour ago might have chilled him, but this sudden outburst froze him from the inside out. It wasn't long until you froze up yourself and realized the words you let fly.
"Whoa.. where did that come from?"
Bradley didn't receive an answer; not verbally, at least. The only response he received from you was the clutter of your keys against the ground as you tucked your chin into your chest. Soft whimpers began to shake your frame. Within seconds, your resolve gave way to desperate cries pouring from your throat. Bradley's heart cracked.
He moved into action, tucking you into his broad chest and letting you lean your weight into him. Light shushes and repetitions of "It's alright" rushed to console you. Bradley held you upright with one arm as he bent over to swipe your keys into his grasp.
"Come on; let's get inside, yeah?" he cooed as he stood back up. You said nothing and continued to cry into his white tank. Mascara stains were sure to form, but he couldn't care less.
Bradley got your door unlocked in a single try. He propped you safely against the wall as he locked the entry behind himself. You felt like you were floating with his help to get to the couch. There was no resistance or fight in you; only fear.
His hands were on your knees, rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin your jeans exposed. Bradley knelt down in front of you. He waited for you, any tell that you were ready to talk, as long as you needed.
You gathered a hiccuped breath as your sobs faded to sniffles. Your trembling hands reached for him, feeling the warmth of his grasp almost instantly. Bradley gingerly kissed your knuckles on each hand. "Talk to me, bunny." Head lifting, you finally met his worried stare. "What's going on?"
It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, as you tried to form the words, you felt a rush of embarrassment. How ridiculous was it to get so worked up over some lighthearted fun? There was no reason for you to have this sick feeling in your stomach over it.
"Hey," Bradley called, moving a hand up to hold your cheek. His thumb swept at the tears still pouring from your lash line. You hadn't noticed your line of sight drifting away from him with your train of thought. As you found his face again, you saw greater desperation. He ached to know, to help. "Talk to me. Please."
And you did. Grabbing onto his hand with both of yours, you released a heavy sigh. "Tonight was great. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. They all seem like really good people, a-and I'm glad you have them in your life to support you."
Bradley managed a sad smile. Even through your own pains, you were searching for the best to make of the situation for him. He squeezed your hands holding his to comfort you in letting the other shoe drop.
"But.. I-I know you're older than them. I'm sure that, that they make those jokes around you a lot, and did way before you met me. It just.." You stopped yourself, shaking your head as if to shake the thought away. "It's probably so stupid-"
"It's not stupid if it's got you this upset."
Oh, Bradley. The only man you'd ever encountered who genuinely yearned to empathize with you at every struggle or hardship. The person who encouraged you to feel things through in a healthy manner instead of immediately pointing blame at yourself for feeling it at all. No person at any age topped the level of emotional care and safety he provided you.
Your words started to flood out, mixing together in disarray. Yet, Bradley listened intently to every fragmented sentence you gave. "I care about you. So much, B; so much it's scary sometimes. And I don't ever think of the years between us because it's all meaningless, you know? The way I feel for you, and how I think you feel for me. We each have our shit sorted, there's no weird power dynamic bullshit going on."
He restrained a laugh at your frank vocabulary. It was one of the things he admired most about you. When your feelings spilled out, there was never a filter. You expressed yourself entirely authentically. That's why your earlier silence frightened him into his own.
That was not to say your troubles were easy for him to hear, because they weren't. Who wanted to hear that the person they loved ever doubted as such?
"All those jokes… I don't want your friends to not take me seriously. That I'm with you for any reason other than you make my life so much better just by being in it, and I hope to god I can do the same for you. I don't need you to take care of me, be my 'sugar daddy' or anything like that. And-" You pursed your lips as another sob caught in your throat.
Bradley leaned in to kiss your forehead, so tenderly it sent chills down your spine. Your lips parted to release that choked cry. "I-I was scared when you just.. just laughed with them, that, that you didn't take me seriously e-either."
The words were a knife in his chest. "Oh, baby, no," he nearly gasped. "No, no; I never have thought like that, bunny."
You began to cry once more; out of the feelings you'd held that evening, out of the faint insecurity you'd held the months you'd spent together, and out of relief to hear him reassure you. The mix of emotions was blowing you over.
"Can I come up there, baby? Can I hold you?" Your answer was in the frantic way you pulled at his hands. Bradley fell into your ragged loveseat in an instant, tugging you into his lap as you wept. He rubbed up and down your back and pressed kisses into your hair to soothe you.
His voice was warped with his own emotion when he spoke next. "I'm so sorry I ever made you doubt how I feel about you. You are worth so much more than your age." He cupped your cheek again to meet your watery gaze with his own.
"You're incredible. The way you navigate life so carefree and full of light, and how you pass that feeling onto everyone you meet. How you care about everyone you meet and effortlessly brighten their day. How you care about me so much that you're this worried that I don't know it."
Your tears rolled freely onto the skin of his fingers, your body jolting with hiccups. And Bradley thought you were every bit as beautiful as you'd ever been.
"But I do. And I will treasure that, I will treasure you, every day of my life." Your responding smile was the most welcome sight. It cleared up the dark clouds that were looming overhead to shine brightly on whatever was to come. As usual.
-
a/n: this was very VERY loosely proofread but i am open to feedback and suggestions! thank you all for reading <3
tags: @roosterforme, @avengersfan25
haha i had a feeling you’d like that line! i’m so glad you enjoyed 🥺 bradley is just too sweet. he’s used to taking all the dagger’s digs in stride but seeing it affect his partner like that put things into perspective. he’ll have some words for them next time they try and play that game!
as usual (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)
word count: ~3.7k
synposis: the time for you to meet the Hard Deck, and the Daggers frequenting it, has finally come. but some digs on the oldest aviator of the bunch in front of his younger partner leave a tension between you that begs to be broken.
warnings: age gap (unspecified but in my mind was about 10 years), assumed alcohol consumption, allusions to anxiety, use of the pet name "bunny", jake is an instigator
a/n: this was NOT going to be this long in my head but once i got writing i could not stop.. enjoy some more self-indulgent comfort angst from me!
As usual, Bradley pulled up to your apartment complex right after a long day on base. And as usual, you were standing in the window like a pup waiting for its owner to come home. He made the comparison in earnest. It melted him to know someone was that excited to have him near, that you were that excited to have him near.
He could barely make it out of the Bronco before you were bounding out your door and down the stairs. Bradley had just rounded the passenger side when you reached him. The sinking sun somehow made your eyes sparkle brighter. Butterflies flew in his stomach, and a lovestruck grin spread across his face. Gentle hands caressed your hips as his caramel gaze took you in closely.
"Did you manage to lock the door?" Bradley teased. You softly grunted at the dig, feigning annoyance in a half frown. The front door and you were nothing if not eternal foes, and Bradley knew of this conflict too well.
"I resent that, I really do." His responding laugh was all it took to break your weak facade. A smile overtook you as you lit up once again to be in his presence. Your hands found home at the base of his neck as your lips greeted each other. Seconds moved in hours whenever you kissed Bradley Bradshaw. He made the noise of the world lift into a soft hum with every touch.
It was understandable that you whined whenever he pulled away. "We're gonna be late," Bradley bargained. Your mouth fell into a soft pout that he was happy to peck away into a smile, and into giggles once his lips found your cheeks, and nose, and temples.
"I thought you said we'd be late!" you laughed as you batted him away to slip into the passenger side. He held the door open for you, like the gentleman Carole had raised him to be. Then he bent to kiss you more softly, like the gentleman his father was.
"You are always worth it." You couldn't fight the flush that broke onto your cheeks to crowd the makeup already present. Blush served little purpose with Bradley lighting your cheeks aflame every chance he got. Nor highlighter, with the glow you seemed to emanate since the day he walked into your life.
His hand found home on your thigh, yours placed atop it to toy with his calloused fingers. The Bronco drove off to the famed bar where he and his naval companions flocked. Such companions were eager to meet the girl who settled their "Rooster" into domestic life.
"Cupid's sure been hard at work," Phoenix remarked upon catching her best friend cheesing at the texts you sent him. Whatever force in the world brought you to him, be it Cupid or God or Nick and Carole themselves, he was grateful. Never had he felt so complete.
"How was work today, bunny?" Bradley asked. A simple question most would roll their eyes at, you jumped to answer. You were eager to tell him of every detail: the pesky clientele, the interdepartmental dramas, even how poorly the coffee was brewed. Excitement ran through you and, by proxy, to Bradley. "Bunny" was a nod to the energy that filled you and energized others, much like the battery mascot.
Your anecdotes filled the minutes driving through the bustle of San Diego rush hour. Bradley glanced over at you every chance he got, adding in commentary where he saw fit but mostly admiring the expressions taking over your face.
He could listen to you ramble for hours, he was certain, as you did for him in his own moments of boundless vigor. An equal partnership seemed unattainable with the women he'd met through the years yet came easily with you.
What place did age have to stall a feeling like that?
-
Some last-minute Bronco kisses had you and Bradley walking into the Hard Deck five minutes behind schedule. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand tucked into the front pocket of your jeans to keep you snug against his side. Still, he let you lead the way, content to follow you wherever you found your feet.
You gawked at the space already half packed with people in uniform, a few civilians bridging the gaps. Various signs and regalia littered the space between windows. The perfect sunset view of the beach was on every wall. Miniature aircraft figures crowded the ceiling in permanent flight.
"Is this place for real?" you remarked, earning a kiss on your cheek from Bradley.
"That it is, bunny. As far back as my pops and Maverick," he answered, stopping as he caught his first familiar face. Bradley took the moment to lead you, bringing you to an open space at the bar. "And now in the hands of this lovely lady here. You remember-"
"Penny!" The excitement in your voice brightened the owner right up. Bradley's heart performed somersaults at your cheer. "This place is incredible!"
Penny tried to humble herself under your praise. "Hey, it's the nicest Navy daycare I could imagine." You giggled at the quip, making her break a smile. You quizzed her on her run of the bar as she pulled a draft for Bradley and mixed a margarita for you. The two of you initially met when Bradley brought you to Maverick's hangar. She was just as endeared then as she was now by your bright spirit and compassion for others.
Once you were settled with your drinks, you attempted to tip her out. Penny was quick to push the cash back at you with a wink. "On the house for you tonight. Call it my welcome gift." You must have thanked her half a dozen times as you moved across the bar. A small table against the wall was your target; somewhere to ground your drinks for when you inevitably got spotted-
"Bradshaw!" The time came sooner than you predicted. A brunette tagged with a name you'd heard too many times to count found her way to you. A man in true aviator glasses followed closely behind. Part of you tensed in anticipation. Still, your outgoing nature won over any resistance.
"Phoenix? Bradley has told me so much about you!" You reached out a hand to her. Her eyes slowly followed the gesture as if examining it.
Phoenix took her time to speak up. "So you're the one who's got Bradshaw off in la-la land?"
You blinked, trying to read into her tone. "I-I think so?"
"Phoenix, play nice," Bradley warned. She scoffed at him, finally grabbing your hand to shake.
"I haven't seen the old bird this happy in ages," Phoenix said as she met your eyes. A real smile tugged at her mouth. You were quick to mirror it as you relaxed. "Keep him that way; he flies better."
Bob followed up with his own introduction. It was hard for Bradley to contain his joy at the moment, even with the slight brows Phoenix threw his way. He hadn't told her the details of the age difference in passing; he hadn't thought it important. Bob was none the wiser, simply offering a game of darts to share amongst the four of them.
"Oh, I LOVE darts!" you exclaimed. "But be warned, it's rare that I actually hit the board."
Phoenix chuckled. "Your boy's not too good himself. We ought to split you apart so Bob and I are more evenly matched." Bradley rolled his eyes, though the interaction had his heart soaring. You were happy as can be getting to know his closest friends. They seemed happy as can be getting to know you.
Questions were passed between throws, Bob asking about your work and Phoenix asking about your relationship. It was the kindest form of interrogation you could've envisioned. Meanwhile, the empty pool table behind you was beckoning another group of aviators in your direction.
The tallest of the trio, a man with a square jaw and dark eyes, was quick to single you out. "Now, who's this pretty young thing you guys rounded up to play?"
You turned to make his acquaintance briefly, your usual cheery demeanor receding some. No person with words like that would get the better of you. Instead, you drew in a breath as you threw the last dart of your turn, hitting a triple ring in the process.
"Bradley!" you squealed. He drew you in happily as you jumped into his embrace. "Did you see?! Did you see?!"
An answer was pressed to your lips, leaving you breathless in the aftermath. Bradley hummed at your slightly dazed expression. "That's my girl."
He felt the stares of Harvard, Fanboy, and Coyote burning holes into the floral print shirt he adorned. No mind was paid to any of them, though; not until you solicited it yourself. "You must be more of Bradley's.. coworkers?"
The man of middle height held his hand out for you with a charming grin. "Lieutenant Javy Machado, or 'Coyote' if you'd rather." You were introduced to the other two, with Harvard taking some quizzical glances your way.
"I can't help but wonder, how'd you get shacked up with this fossil?" The audience around you laughed, Bradley included. He had mentioned he was a bit older than his team, giving rationale to the jest and the 'old bird' comment Phoenix made earlier. Still, something in these remarks began to itch you. You were quick to table the feeling, certain it was only your misunderstanding among old friends.
You went on to indulge them in the story of your mildly embarrassing meet-cute. A few other aviators popped in to make their introductions, Payback and Omaha namedly. It seemed that each of them, in due time, had to take their shot at ragging on Bradley's age. He brushed each one-liner off in spades, settling any greater debate with an amused chuckle rather than a defense.
The itch in you was replaced by a gnawing in your gut. You worked to suppress it as best as you could, wanting to make a perfect evening for your partner: the one who kissed you when you shot well in darts and pulled you to the piano to serenade you front and center.
But the words echoing in your ears began to shrink you in your bearings. Suddenly, you had little to say in response to any harmless question. You certainly had less to say as Harvard and Hangman were questioning why you were with Bradley "of all people". Bradley himself had gone to the bathroom, trusting you would be safe and at ease in the company of his friends. It was only upon his return that he was made to see how wrong he'd been.
Bob, the perfect wallflower, had noted the shift in your behavior. He stood by and watched as the dazzling person he was first introduced to started to lose their spark. The WSO watched as you tried to fake smiles and laugh along to the jokes cracked. None of it reached your gaze that began to dart around, as if looking for refuge. Bradley was clueless, too caught up in the moment of his worlds merging to notice one was falling back.
He returned from the bathroom and attempted to dart to your side, stopped only by Bob's light grip on his arm. "Rooster, something's up with your girl." Bradley froze. He scanned the bar, locking onto where you sat with a pair of his friends. Confusion filled him. The night had gone so well. You were getting along with everyone, even Hangman. What could possibly be wrong?
"Just trust me," Bob pleaded, practically seeing the calculations Bradley was attempting in his head. It was seeing your hands nervously fiddling together that confirmed to him Bob was right. He clapped his friend's shoulder, uttering a gracious thanks before making his way over to you.
"Mind if I cut in?" It was nothing more than a courtesy. Bradley would not let you stew in your own head a second longer. "I think we ought to be heading out soon, bunny."
Bradley outstretched his hand to you, which you gladly placed yours into. He pulled you up from the booth with ease and waved his goodbyes to the pair left at the table.
Hangman would not settle for courtesies. "Aww, come on, old man; can't you let her stay out past curfew?"
You barely had a breath to react before Bradley did with yet another chuckle. If nothing churned your stomach that night, the sound of his amusement at this running gag did. You managed your goodbyes to everyone in passing well enough as you exited the bar. The Bronco was a relieving and suffocating sight at the same time.
Silence: that was all Bradley had been given as he led you to his car. A frown fixed on his face. You were keeping a firm distance between the two of you where normally there would be none. Your fingers danced with each other in a nervous rhythm where normally they were laced with his own. Something was seriously wrong, but he hadn't the faintest idea as to what.
Bradley held the passenger door open for you, as usual, and had to hold back a gracious sigh as you let him. You would not so much as look at him since leaving his friends, but he held onto the simple gesture as a sign of hope.
He dared to lean in to catch your lips against his, only to be met by the soft skin of your cheek. Bradley stuttered backward. You had turned away from his kiss.
"Take me home, Rooster." An icy cold poured through him. You had met him in uniform, full with his "Rooster" embellishment, but had never once used the name. And he was starting to wish you never had, for the distant feeling it brought chilled him to the bone.
Bradley hopped into his seat and got the Bronco in motion toward your apartment. Maybe you needed the fresh air and the sights of the city to cool off, he thought. However, with each mile, the tension was growing thicker. He felt it in the silence walling you from him. He felt it as your quad contracted under his subconscious grip, so much that he was growing nauseous himself.
Bradley was a worrywort by default. It's why he hesitated in the air. It's why he hesitated with almost everything in his life. You had been the one piece of his existence that brought him such thoughtless bliss. Had he been too thoughtless to not notice where things were souring?
As quickly as you had raced down, you were flying up the stairs to your apartment. The thud of the passenger door slamming startled him. Bradley barely parked by the time you were halfway up the flight. He locked the doors and jogged up in the path you'd made.
His stature made it fairly easy to catch up to you. That, and the fumbling of your fingers with your key in the villainized deadbolt. You were cursing silently to yourself as you tried and failed to get the lock to turn just right. Tears began to blur your vision, making the simple task even more frustrating.
Bradley's voice was gentle, apologetic already. "Here, let me-"
"Just go home, Rooster; I don't need a fucking babysitter!"
Your response comes out sharp and cold. Your use of his callsign half an hour ago might have chilled him, but this sudden outburst froze him from the inside out. It wasn't long until you froze up yourself and realized the words you let fly.
"Whoa.. where did that come from?"
Bradley didn't receive an answer; not verbally, at least. The only response he received from you was the clutter of your keys against the ground as you tucked your chin into your chest. Soft whimpers began to shake your frame. Within seconds, your resolve gave way to desperate cries pouring from your throat. Bradley's heart cracked.
He moved into action, tucking you into his broad chest and letting you lean your weight into him. Light shushes and repetitions of "It's alright" rushed to console you. Bradley held you upright with one arm as he bent over to swipe your keys into his grasp.
"Come on; let's get inside, yeah?" he cooed as he stood back up. You said nothing and continued to cry into his white tank. Mascara stains were sure to form, but he couldn't care less.
Bradley got your door unlocked in a single try. He propped you safely against the wall as he locked the entry behind himself. You felt like you were floating with his help to get to the couch. There was no resistance or fight in you; only fear.
His hands were on your knees, rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin your jeans exposed. Bradley knelt down in front of you. He waited for you, any tell that you were ready to talk, as long as you needed.
You gathered a hiccuped breath as your sobs faded to sniffles. Your trembling hands reached for him, feeling the warmth of his grasp almost instantly. Bradley gingerly kissed your knuckles on each hand. "Talk to me, bunny." Head lifting, you finally met his worried stare. "What's going on?"
It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, as you tried to form the words, you felt a rush of embarrassment. How ridiculous was it to get so worked up over some lighthearted fun? There was no reason for you to have this sick feeling in your stomach over it.
"Hey," Bradley called, moving a hand up to hold your cheek. His thumb swept at the tears still pouring from your lash line. You hadn't noticed your line of sight drifting away from him with your train of thought. As you found his face again, you saw greater desperation. He ached to know, to help. "Talk to me. Please."
And you did. Grabbing onto his hand with both of yours, you released a heavy sigh. "Tonight was great. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. They all seem like really good people, a-and I'm glad you have them in your life to support you."
Bradley managed a sad smile. Even through your own pains, you were searching for the best to make of the situation for him. He squeezed your hands holding his to comfort you in letting the other shoe drop.
"But.. I-I know you're older than them. I'm sure that, that they make those jokes around you a lot, and did way before you met me. It just.." You stopped yourself, shaking your head as if to shake the thought away. "It's probably so stupid-"
"It's not stupid if it's got you this upset."
Oh, Bradley. The only man you'd ever encountered who genuinely yearned to empathize with you at every struggle or hardship. The person who encouraged you to feel things through in a healthy manner instead of immediately pointing blame at yourself for feeling it at all. No person at any age topped the level of emotional care and safety he provided you.
Your words started to flood out, mixing together in disarray. Yet, Bradley listened intently to every fragmented sentence you gave. "I care about you. So much, B; so much it's scary sometimes. And I don't ever think of the years between us because it's all meaningless, you know? The way I feel for you, and how I think you feel for me. We each have our shit sorted, there's no weird power dynamic bullshit going on."
He restrained a laugh at your frank vocabulary. It was one of the things he admired most about you. When your feelings spilled out, there was never a filter. You expressed yourself entirely authentically. That's why your earlier silence frightened him into his own.
That was not to say your troubles were easy for him to hear, because they weren't. Who wanted to hear that the person they loved ever doubted as such?
"All those jokes… I don't want your friends to not take me seriously. That I'm with you for any reason other than you make my life so much better just by being in it, and I hope to god I can do the same for you. I don't need you to take care of me, be my 'sugar daddy' or anything like that. And-" You pursed your lips as another sob caught in your throat.
Bradley leaned in to kiss your forehead, so tenderly it sent chills down your spine. Your lips parted to release that choked cry. "I-I was scared when you just.. just laughed with them, that, that you didn't take me seriously e-either."
The words were a knife in his chest. "Oh, baby, no," he nearly gasped. "No, no; I never have thought like that, bunny."
You began to cry once more; out of the feelings you'd held that evening, out of the faint insecurity you'd held the months you'd spent together, and out of relief to hear him reassure you. The mix of emotions was blowing you over.
"Can I come up there, baby? Can I hold you?" Your answer was in the frantic way you pulled at his hands. Bradley fell into your ragged loveseat in an instant, tugging you into his lap as you wept. He rubbed up and down your back and pressed kisses into your hair to soothe you.
His voice was warped with his own emotion when he spoke next. "I'm so sorry I ever made you doubt how I feel about you. You are worth so much more than your age." He cupped your cheek again to meet your watery gaze with his own.
"You're incredible. The way you navigate life so carefree and full of light, and how you pass that feeling onto everyone you meet. How you care about everyone you meet and effortlessly brighten their day. How you care about me so much that you're this worried that I don't know it."
Your tears rolled freely onto the skin of his fingers, your body jolting with hiccups. And Bradley thought you were every bit as beautiful as you'd ever been.
"But I do. And I will treasure that, I will treasure you, every day of my life." Your responding smile was the most welcome sight. It cleared up the dark clouds that were looming overhead to shine brightly on whatever was to come. As usual.
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a/n: this was very VERY loosely proofread but i am open to feedback and suggestions! thank you all for reading <3
tags: @roosterforme, @avengersfan25
🥺 you are too kind! i will have to check these other fics out later!!
𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑤 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑠 𝑣𝑖.
thats what friends are for by @beccaanne814
lost in the fire by @zstrn
bumping beach bikini
if you met me first
by @tip-top-cloud-surfer
flash me by @wannabeschyulersister
leave a light on
bedside manner
by @sometimesanalice
ill guide you by @bradshawsbitch
why do you care? by @whatsmymeme
oral fixations by @foreverrandomwritings
bradley and the bump by @justmyheart#
THE STACHE IN(AC)CIDENT by @feralforfrank
another bad date by @accioprocrastination
oh no, theres an arm around my waist by @sehnsuchts-trunken
merrier the more by @sylviebell
do you wanna touch me? by @roosterforme
love in the dark
if it makes you happy
by @bloatedandalone04
waves by @its-the-pilot
as usual by @inmyloveworld
i can fix that by @ccbb2222
and you will find me by @beyondthesefourwalls
because i'm trying to clear my wip's before i start on the bob idea..
another self-indulgent angsty bradley fic coming tomorrow?