Bradley Bradshaw Fic - Blog Posts

Ever since this man played Rooster, the Hawaiian shirts have become apart of his everyday wardrobe. Honestly, I’m here for it.

It's the gold chain for me 🫠

masterlist

Jake Seresin

easy, girl

the princess and the hangman

the princess and the hangman pt.2

hangman's girl

your world or hangman's

who's dawson and amanda?

earth angel

howdy darlin'.

howdy darlin' pt.2

kissin' strangers.

like I loved you.

somethin' like that.

do you want me to lie, sir?

Bradley Bradshaw

break up in the end

lieutenant bradshaw

but she's my best friend

stand in my way.

stand in my way. pt2

for her

greatest love story.

that damned flight suit.

you don't see it.

be careful with my baby.

be careful with my baby pt 2.

I'm obsessed with you.

needed a little discourse.

Pete Mitchell

captain.

game on.

miss me baby.

let's order Chinese.

Nighttime Comfort

Summary: Bradley wakes up in a sweat after a nightmare about Mav getting shot down and you comfort him

Warnings: nightmares/flashbacks, crying, angst(?), fluff, use of Y/N

Words: 1460

❗️I wrote this all myself please don’t repost❗️

——————————————————————————-

The dagger squad got back from the uranium enrichment mission just over a month ago. Bradley was back at work only a week after he got back home. During these 4 weeks, Bradley has been having dreadful nightmares and flashbacks about the mission. You’ve only woken up to one of them, and he told you everything was okay and it was just a weird dream. You believed him and haven’t noticed anything weird since. Not until the other morning, when you came upstairs with his cup of coffee.

——————————————————————————-

Every Saturday morning since Bradley got back from his mission, you have made breakfast in bed for the two of you. This morning was no different. When you went downstairs to get the mugs of coffee, Bradley was slowly waking up but wasn’t fully awake. You had given him a kiss on the head before heading down. But when you came back up, you found him curled up on his side, wide awake but looking terrified as ever. You quickly put the mugs down on his side table and knelt down on the floor by his side of the bed. His fist was tightly gripping the duvet, and he was very tense.

"Bradley?!" Bradley, are you okay? What's wrong, baby? Talk to me, please." You frantically ask him.

He blinks a few times before loosening his grip on the duvet. You can see his muscles relax as he takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. You sat in silence for a minute. During that time, you reached your hand over to hold his, intertwining your fingers.

"I, uh.." he began, clearing his throat. "I didn’t want to scare you or make you worry. I’m sorry, Y/N." Bradley continued.

He sounded so sad and guilty. You weren’t sure why, though.

“Baby, what do you mean?" You asked.

"Ever since the mission.. I, I’ve been having some, uh, nightmares and flashbacks."

He paused.

"Specifically when Mav got shot down." Looking down at where your hands meet, not wanting to meet your sorrowful eyes.

"So.. when I woke up the other night and you said it was a weird dream.. it was a nightmare?"

You felt a little hurt that he hadn’t told you, but you also fully understood why he wouldn’t want you to know. When you said that, Bradley looked into your eyes, giving you a slight nod.

"Oh Bradley.. baby.. I love you so much. I need to know these things so I can help you. It makes me feel sick that you’ve been trying to deal with this alone.. I.. I want to help Bradley."

——————————————————————————-

Ever since that morning, you’ve been more attentive during the night. Bradley has had nightmares just about every night since, and you’ve woken up to help him every time. You can tell they’re starting to get less intense as well, which is a positive sign that he’s getting better. Bradley has been more open with you, which you really appreciated.

Everything seemed to be getting better until last night. Last night was Bradley’s worst nightmare.

—————————————————————————-

Time, 11:42 PM. Bradley was having trouble falling asleep, and even though you were asleep, you knew he wasn’t. You were trying to be more aware of things like this at night ever since Bradley told you about his nightmares.

Time, 12:31 AM. Bradley had finally fallen asleep.

Time: 2:28 AM. You woke up after hearing some whimpering. As you open your eyes and look around, you see Bradley slightly shaking, his face all scrunched up like he’s stressed out about something. He whimpered more; you were able to make out some words, like "no" and "Mav", You even thought you heard a "help" mumbled in there. You didn’t know what to do or how to help him yet, so you decided to gently place your hand on his. At first he jerked his hand away, but about 30 seconds later he woke up and sat up straight so fast that you thought it would give him whiplash. He starts looking around the room, breathing heavily and eyebrows furrowed. When his eyes finally catch sight of you, he locks eyes with you, and his eyes start to water.

—————————————————————————-

ROOSTERS DREAM

There’s a missile coming right for me. I released my flares to stop it. Success. But there’s another one coming for me. I try my flares, but they’re all out. Shit. I’m going to die. What is he doing? Mav was now flying over me and releasing his flares to stop the missile. Holy shit! He did it! He sav- Mav got shot down.

"MAV!" I screamed. “Mav, do you copy?!" I tried over the radio. No response. "We have to help him! Please!"

"Rooster. He’s gone." I heard Bob say to me.

"No.." I mumble to myself.

Then I felt something on my hand.. and I’m awake, back in my bed, in my room, in my house. I look around, and my eyes land on you.

—————————————————————————-

"Bradley? Bradley, look at me. Are you okay, baby?" You ask him as calmly as you could.

Next thing you know, Bradley breaks out into a sob. You felt so sorry for him, immediately wrapping your arms around him and hugging him close to you.

"Oh baby.. shh, it’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here, I’ve got you." You whisper to him as his sobs continue.

Bradley’s arms are curled up in between the two of you, holding onto the collar of the shirt you’re wearing. You rest your cheek on his head, taking one of your hands and slowly rubbing his back.

"I-I’m so sorry." Bradley chokes out in between sobs.

“Baby, it’s not your fault.. it’s okay." You calmly replied.

After a few minutes, Bradley manages to calm down enough that he can now breathe normally. You were still rubbing his back when he spoke up.

"That was the worst one yet." He said softly as another tear rolled down his cheek.

Bradley pulled back to sit and pulled his knees into his arms, dropping his head a little.

"If you think you can.. do you wanna talk about it?" You ask carefully, not wanting to scare him.

"It was just so realistic. It was exactly what happened that day.. I-.." emphasizing the ‘exactly’. He released a big sigh before continuing, "Y/N, he almost died. I almost lost Maverick. I’ve already lost my father and my mother, I don’t know what I would do if I lost Mav too. I mean, I pushed him out of my life for years, and I really regret it. But if I lost him right after we made up.. I don’t think I would ever be able to forgive myself."

At this point, you had a tear rolling down your cheek. When Bradley noticed this, he immediately started apologizing for making you cry, putting his hand on your cheek and wiping your tear away. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch and let out a breathy laugh.

You honestly didn’t know how to reply to such a sad and truthful confession from Bradley. You leaned in closer to rest your head on his shoulder and give him a big hug. Bradley loosely wrapped his arms around your waist, dropping his head onto your shoulder. You could feel the shoulder of your shirt becoming wet from his still-falling tears.

"Bradley I love you so much, I don’t think you even know. I am so grateful that both you and Maverick are back and safe.” Because if you died, I would kill you." You say the last part with a teasing tone.

You feel Bradley’s body shake in your arms as he laughs at your joke. You release Bradley from your hug and give him a sweet kiss on the lips. Your hand softly holds the back of his head as his hands rest gently on the small of your back. You pull back and rest your forehead against his, looking into his eyes.

"So.. you better now, baby?" You ask Bradley.

"Almost.. I think I’ll feel even better if you kiss me again." Bradley says while looking at your lips and back up to your eyes, pouting his lip a little and giving you puppy dog eyes. You lean your head back and laugh at his expression, but ultimately end up giving him another kiss to the lips.

When you both lay down again to go to sleep, Bradley wraps his arms around your waist and nestles his head into your shoulder.

"I love you, Bradley." You say barley above a whisper, not sure if he even heard it.

"I love you too, Y/N, thank you, my love." He replied.

Needless to say, you both ended up falling asleep with a smile on your faces.

Doctor Doctor, Gimme The News

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Doctor!Reader

Summary: You receive a particularly difficult patient by the name of Bradshaw and you try your best to resist his charms.

CW: tall Bradley, Mavdad, it's goofy af you've been warned

WC: 1800+

A/N: I don't know, you guys, I just couldn't get this scene out of my head hahah

Your back is turned when the two men enter the office, so you don’t notice right away that one of them is practically shoving the other inside. You hear the grumbling though.

“I’m fine,” and “Let go,” and “This is a waste of time.”

You glance over your shoulder as one of the nurses places a clipboard outside an exam room and gestures for the men to wait inside. It’s a slow day at the clinic so, after finishing up the notes from your previous appointment, you head over to check the chart before walking in to greet your next patient.

The two men look up when you enter. The younger one is sitting in a chair and the older one has a firm hand on his shoulder as if he’s forcefully trying to keep him there.

“Good afternoon, I’m Doctor Y/L/N,” you say, placing the clipboard on the table as the two men say hello. “What seems to be the problem?”

“He hit his head,” the man who’s standing says.

“I’m fine,” the other assures you.

“Hard,” the first man points out.

The seated man rolls his eyes. “He’s overreacting.”

You narrow your eyes slightly and approach them. “What’s your name?” you ask the man with the apparent head injury, crouching down so that you can look at his face up close.

“Don’t you have my chart?” he asks. He's wearing a cheeky grin and you can tell that he's flirting.

“It’s Bradshaw,” the standing man says. “His name. And I’m Captain Mitchell.”

You glance up at the older man. “If you could refrain from answering for the patient, please, Captain,” you say, slightly annoyed.

“Right,” he nods. “I apologize.”

The seated man raises his eyebrows. “Well, that’s a first.”

You move to grab a chair and position yourself in front of him. “Full name and rank?”

“Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. What’s yours?” the man asks with a bit of a smirk.

You tap on the name tag hanging off your lab coat coolly. You’re not unaccustomed to receiving this kind of attention, however it doesn’t happen too often at work. “What’s the date today, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you ask casually, reaching for your clipboard.

“You don’t have a calendar, Doctor?” Bradley asks.

You glance up at him pointedly. “Are you always this cooperative?”

“This is the kind of shit I have to put up with on a daily basis, Doctor,” Captain Mitchell mutters.

“Well, that’s good news,” you say, smiling up at the man. When he furrows his eyebrows, you clarify, “No noticeable change in personality.”

Captain Mitchell grins wryly. “What a relief.”

Bradley snorts and starts to get up. “We’re done, then?” he asks.

“Not quite,” you say, indicating for him to sit back down.

Bradley sighs wearily but resumes his seated position across from you. He places his hands in his lap and lifts his eyes to meet your gaze with a skeptical expression.

“Are you experiencing any dizziness?” you ask.

“No,” he responds, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You glance down at the clipboard in your hand, slightly unnerved that he’s so boldly watching you. “Headache or nausea?” you ask without looking back up.

“Nope,” he responds.

“Can you count backwards from 100 by seven?”

“Are you serious?” he asks.

You glance up at him sharply. “Would you like to conduct the examination, Lieutenant?”

He sighs and starts counting.

You stop him after several correct numbers and ask, “What is your profession?”

There’s a brief pause during which Bradley lets his head dip to the side to study the contours of your face. You glance up at him expectantly and he looks into your eyes again. “I’m an aviator,” he says nonchalantly, although you notice his chest puff up with pride. As if you don’t regularly meet pilots working at the health clinic on base.

You look down at your clipboard as though you’re reading the questions off the page but, really, you’re just avoiding his gaze because his eyes have a we’re-gonna-fuck look about them and you’re almost starting to fall for it. “Any previous head injuries?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he responds, and you notice the sexy rasp in his voice despite trying very hard to ignore it.

“He crashed his bike into a tree when he was five,” Captain Mitchell chimes in.

Both you and Bradley look up at him with some amusement, having nearly forgotten he was there. You blink at the captain pointedly before returning your attention to the chart in your lap. “I hope he’s better at maneuvering these days,” you comment.

Bradley starts laughing which makes you look up at him in surprise. Captain Mitchell is also chuckling mildly. “He has his moments,” he says.

 You give them a tight smile and rise from your seat, setting your clipboard down. Bradley stands too, towering over you because he’s still so close. You take a step back, nearly stumbling over your chair, and both Bradley and the captain grab your arms to keep you from falling.

“You alright?” Bradley asks.

You nod, straightening out your lab coat and pointing to his chair. “Sit, please,” you say, not meeting his gaze.

“You got it, Doc,” he says, sitting back down. Captain Mitchell smirks in amusement.

“Tell me what happened,” you say, approaching your patient confidently to perform a physical exam.

Both he and the captain start recounting two vastly different versions of the same event while you check Bradley’s vital signs. Once they’ve finished speaking and you’ve located the swelling on Bradley’s head, you glance between the two of them skeptically. Then you pull a penlight out of your lab coat and say, “Follow the light.”

You watch Bradley’s pupils constrict in response to the light but, when you move the penlight to one side, his eyes remain fixed on yours.

“The light, Lieutenant,” you remind him.

Bradley shifts his gaze to the right as instructed, but every time the movement of your penlight crosses the midpoint, he lets his eyes linger on yours for a split second. You flick off the light and observe as Bradley’s pupils return to normal size. His mouth quirks upward slightly but he never breaks eye contact.

“Good,” you say, dropping the penlight back into your pocket. “Now you can stand.”

Bradley gets out of his seat while Captain Mitchell watches on cautiously, as though he expects him to fall over. When the captain steps closer, Bradley holds out his hand.

“I’m fine, dad.” Bradley’s sarcastic tone indicates that the captain is, in fact, not his father, but his companion’s affectionate expression in response probably puts him in the category of loveable uncle who has frequently – albeit unsolicitedly – stepped into the role. Bradley straightens his back and looks over at you calmly, awaiting your instructions.

“Stand on one foot for me,” you say.

Bradley smirks. “Anything for you, Doc,” he says, bending his left leg upwards.

Captain Mitchell lets out a tired sigh, shaking his head, while you attempt to not roll your eyes. “You can put your foot down, Lieutenant,” you say crossly.

“You want me to put my foot down, Doc?” he responds suggestively.

“Rooster!” the captain warns.

“I’m kidding!” Bradley chuckles. “She knows.” He extends an arm out to point at you. “You know, right?” he verifies, glancing over at you.

“I apologise.” Captain Mitchell shakes his head again.

“That’s the second time,” Bradley notes.

You raise your eyebrows at the two of them. “Well,” you say. “That’s another good sign.”

“What?” they both ask.

“His sense of humor is intact,” you say.

Bradley grins at you. “You think I’m funny?”

The captain closes his eyes.

You fight to keep a straight face. “As long as you think you’re funny, Lieutenant.”

“Do you recommend treatment, Doctor?” Captain Mitchell asks.

You look at him with a small grin. “For the humor?”

Bradley snorts but the captain considers your question. “Might come in handy,” he says.

Bradley lets out a sarcastic, “Ha-ha.”

“No,” you say. “He’s fine.”

“Told you,” Bradley mutters to the captain.

“But,” you say, “if you start experiencing any of these symptoms” – you hand him a brochure on concussions – “come back in and we can do a more comprehensive assessment.”

Bradley takes the brochure from your hand. “I’ll do that,” he says with a nod.

…

As you’re heading back to your office, you notice Bradley eyeing you from the front desk. He mutters something to Captain Mitchell, in response to which the latter glances in your direction before looking back at Bradley pointedly. Then, he gives him a couple of claps on the shoulder and heads out the door.

Having arrived at the door to your office, you don’t linger to find out what Bradley is up to. But, just as you’re about to sit down at your desk, Bradley’s head peeks in through the partially open door. He drums on the doorframe with his knuckle despite already having gotten your attention.

“Was there something else, Lieutenant?” you ask, walking back around your desk toward him.

Bradley grins sheepishly. “May I come in?” he asks.

Truthfully, you’re surprised he’s not already inside. You gesture for him to enter.

“I uh,” he starts, hesitating when you meet his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he says, grimacing. “For being an idiot.”

You raise your eyebrows but give him a warm smile. “We can blame the head injury.”

Bradley nods slowly. “Let’s,” he says. “Although, I’m afraid it’s permanent.”

You chuckle. “Well, at least you’re self-aware.”

He cringes slightly but it quickly turns into a grin. He takes a deep breath, holding your gaze. “I like you,” he says bluntly.

You’re slightly taken aback by his directness, so you simply stare at him for a moment.

 “I hope that’s okay,” he adds when you don’t say anything.

“Uh, sure,” you respond awkwardly, panicking slightly because he’s so tall and broad-shouldered and charming.

“I sort of want to take you out,” he says, taking a step forward.

You sort of wonder how often he pulls this kind of thing. You’re nothing if not a veteran skeptic. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

Bradley watches you with a knowing smirk. “But do you want to?” he asks.

You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “Doesn’t matter.”

Bradley sticks his hands into his pockets, his eyes sweeping you up and down. “It matters to me,” he says.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I can’t go out with a patient” –

“I’m not your patient anymore,” he says, the low rasp of his voice even more persuasive than his words.

“You’re a patient of this clinic,” you say.

“I can find another clinic,” he responds.

You lower your gaze, pursing your lips to keep from smiling too widely. “I work long hours, Lieutenant. I don’t exactly have much time to socialize.”

When you glance back up at him, Bradley flashes you a dazzling grin that demonstrates how fantastically unconvinced he is that your busy schedule is truly a reason for concern. “I haven't heard a no, Doctor,” he points out.

“You haven't heard a yes.”

Bradley chuckles. “That’s fine,” he says, taking several steps back toward the door. “I’m not in a hurry.” And with these words, he walks out of your office.

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