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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

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Holding Out For A Hero

Pairing(s): Rooster x Wife!Reader, implied Maverick x Penny, and hints of Hangman x Phoenix (pre-official relationship)

Author’s Note: I’ve had the idea for this one rolling around in my head for a while, so I figured being sick at home was as good a time as any to finally sit down and write it!

Bradley convinces Mrs. Bradshaw to perform at Open Mic Night at The Hard Deck. If you’re interested in listening, the song she performs is the Ella Mae Bowen version of Holding Out For A Hero.

Warnings: A little bit of anxiety related to performing in front of a crowd, plus lots and lots of Bradshaw fluff.

Tucking yourself away in the back room of The Hard Deck, you had never been more grateful for your close friendship with Penny. Outside, the bar was getting crowded and noisy, the air thick with excited anticipation. Back here, hidden behind crates of Bud Light and Sam Adams, you were offered a small respite from the clamor and an opportunity to breathe.

Not that you were necessarily doing that so well.

Dragging another shaky breath into your lungs, you rested your trembling hands in your lap and closed your eyes, trying to count backwards from ten in an attempt to calm your fraying nerves.

Were you absolutely insane? How had you allowed Bradley to talk you into doing this?

About a month ago, Penny had gotten the idea that she wanted to host an Open Mic Night at The Hard Deck as a fundraiser for Wounded Warrior Project.

“It’ll be fun,” she told you, Bradley, Mav, and the rest of the Dagger Squad over dinner one night. “Everyone’s always singing every night anyway. Might as well give some people a chance to take center stage, and raise money for a good cause while doing it. Plus, we know we’ll have accompaniment. We can never get Rooster off that piano,” she teased affectionately, throwing a playful wink in your husband’s direction.

“Sounds fun, Penny!” Fanboy nodded enthusiastically, before hungrily shoveling down more of Penny’s chicken pot pie.

“I’m sure lots of people would sign up, especially knowing it’s a fundraiser and all,” Bob chimed in, sliding his glasses up his nose.

“You going to sing something, Bob?” Hangman asked with a teasing smirk, casually stretching his arms out and resting one on the back of Phoenix’s chair.

Bob turned bright red at the prospect, shaking his head. “Me? No, no. I don’t sing. But, uh, I’ll be there for moral support!” he insisted, practically tripping over his own words.

Phoenix was quick to jump in to defend her backseater. “Why don’t you serenade us all with something, Bagman? A classic rendition of Take My Breath Away, perhaps?” she suggested sarcastically, arching an eyebrow as she looked up at him.

Hangman just smirked in response, his eyes lingering on Phoenix’s face a little longer than strictly necessary.

There was definitely something going on between those two, no matter how many times Phoenix had denied it whenever you broached the subject.

“Anyway,” Payback cut in, pointedly looking between Hangman and Phoenix before steering the conversation back towards the event itself. “Sounds like it’ll be a good time, Penny. Maybe The Hard Deck could even host a barbeque on the beach beforehand. Turn it into an all day event, you know?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Penny nodded, pulling out her phone and typing a few notes into it. “Maybe we could even plan some games and activities on the beach.”

“A little dogfight football, anyone?” Coyote asked jokingly, nudging Maverick with a grin.

“Maybe family-friendly activities that involve everyone keeping their shirts on,” Penny laughed, her grin only growing wider as some of the guys groaned in disappointment.

“We’ll help you set everything up, Penny,” Phoenix said, taking a sip of water. “We’ll get flyers out and tell everyone. It’ll be a great time.”

“Think we’ll be able to convince Cyclone to sing a little something?” Fanboy grinned, his expression brimming with mirth at the very idea of their Air Boss performing a karaoke rendition of anything.

“Highly unlikely,” Payback laughed, leaning back in his chair with a contented sigh, his plate completely cleaned off.

“You’ll sing something, won’t you, Rooster?” Penny asked, resting her chin in her hand and smiling at him.

“Me?” Bradley asked with feigned surprise, raising his eyebrows as if shocked by the very notion.

“Oh, save it, Bradshaw,” Hangman rolled his eyes with a smirk, tossing his napkin at him. “We all know you’ll perform some big number to bring the house down.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, smiling affectionately over at your husband. Whatever Bradley performed, you were already certain it would be your favorite song of the night.

Bradley turned his head and met your gaze, his eyes sparkling as he rested a hand on your thigh, his thumb brushing gently against the skin that was exposed just beneath the hem of your sundress.

“You know, I’m not the only Bradshaw who knows how to sing,” he announced suddenly, winking briefly at you before turning his attention back to the rest of the group.

“Oh, Bradley, no!” you exclaimed, immediately knowing what he was getting at. You swatted at his arm, your cheeks already flushing in embarrassment.

“Oh, you stop it!” Penny jumped in, waving her hands at you with a smile. “You have a beautiful voice, sweetie. You should sing something!”

“Beautiful voice? How come we’ve never heard this beautiful voice, hm? Been hiding it away from us?” Coyote grinned, raising his eyebrows as he leaned forward in his chair to look over at you.

“It’s hardly anything special,” you insisted, waving your hand firmly in the air as if to brush the notion away entirely. “Singing in the shower or while doing the dishes hardly makes you an expert.”

“But you do have a beautiful voice. I’ve heard it,” Phoenix grinned, shooting you a pointed look when you glared at her. “I mean, Rooster did take you to karaoke for your first date and all.”

Before you knew it, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Hangman had taken up a chant of, “Sing for us,” banging their hands on the table and grinning at you expectantly.

You pinched your husband’s leg under the table, prompting a surprised yelp to escape his lips.

“I’ll have you all know that this is bullying and peer pressure and I won’t stand for it,” you told them, trying to bite back the smile that was tugging at the corners of your mouth. They were all so ridiculous, they couldn’t help but make you laugh.

“That’s right. You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to,” Bob came to your defense, smiling at you.

“Watch out, Bob, or we’ll make the two of you sing a duet,” Fanboy laughed, lightly smacking his friend on the back.

“No one has to make any decisions now,” Penny cut in, rising to begin clearing the table so that she could set out dessert. You immediately jumped up to help her. “I’m just glad to know you’re all on board. The sign-up sheet will be posted in The Hard Deck for anyone who decides they want to perform,” she said, nudging you with a little grin.

And somehow, against all odds, your husband had managed to convince you.

“Come on, honey,” he murmured to you as you were both lying in bed later that night. “You really do have such a beautiful voice. And as much as I’m privileged to get those concerts for one in the bathroom, other people should get to hear how talented you are, too.”

Biting your lip, you rolled onto your side and gazed at him in the darkness, your eyes adjusting and making out his silhouetted form beside you. “What would I even sing? People wouldn’t want to listen to me. I’d get such bad stage fright, I’d probably be hiding in the corner.”

Chuckling softly, Bradley wrapped his arms around you and dropped a kiss on your lips. “I’d want to listen to you. Our friends would want to listen to you. Everyone else with half a brain would want to listen to you. And you know lots of songs,” he added, brushing your hair behind your ear with gentle fingers.

You wavered silently, not agreeing, but not disagreeing either.

Bradley seemed to take that as his chance to really drive his argument home. “What if I played for you, hm? Piano or guitar, depending on what song you wanted to sing. Then you wouldn’t have to feel like you were doing it alone. What do you say to that?”

You groaned, knowing how persistent he was going to be about this. He wasn’t going to stop until you said yes. Burying your face in his neck, you mumbled, “I say, why do you have to be so annoyingly talented, huh? Piano and guitar? There’s no escaping you, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

He laughed in response, his chest rumbling as he pulled you in closer. “So is that a yes then?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s more of an I guess so,” you replied, smiling despite yourself as your husband let out an enthusiastic whoop of excitement.

There were a few different songs that you considered performing, going back and forth on a couple of them. In the end, however, you settled on Holding Out For A Hero, a song that you had loved listening to since you were a little girl.

“But not the Bonnie Tyler version,” you told Bradley as he attempted to pluck out a few of the chords on his guitar. “This version, by Ella Mae Bowen,” you explained, showing him a video of her performance. It was slower, softer, sweeter. More romantic.

After Bradley finished listening to it, he grinned up at you. “I think you’re going to knock it out of the park, honey,” he predicted, pecking your lips softly.

The two of you practiced most nights over the course of the following weeks, in preparation for the big night. Some nights, you got more rehearsal time than others. On more than one occasion, Bradley’s fingers would suddenly stop strumming the guitar and he’d lift his head to look at you, his dark eyes thick with an emotion you recognized all too well.

“Damn, but that voice does things to me, baby,” he’d whisper before setting his guitar to the side and carrying you off to bed.

Still, especially as Open Mic Night got closer, you insisted with all the personal restraint you could muster that he be professional and help you with your lessons.

“What a diva,” Bradley had laughed one night, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before nodding and starting to play the song once more.

You were as ready as you were going to be.

Or so you thought.

But now tonight was the night, and you were hiding out behind crates of beer in the back of The Hard Deck.

The day had been wonderful, which you were thrilled about. You knew how much it meant to Penny. Between the massive barbeque on the beach, and the afternoon full of scheduled games and activities, everyone had been having a great time. You were pretty sure that Penny had already surpassed the fundraising goal she’d set for herself, and the night wasn’t even over yet.

But now, with the sun starting to set on the beach, everyone was beginning to filter back inside for Open Mic Night. The bar was abuzz with eager and excited anticipation, as people in the crowd awaited performances from their friends and loved ones.

And you were panicking.

Palms slick with sweat, you’d evaded the rest of the group and slipped into the back room of the bar, a location you were all too familiar with from your time working as a waitress at The Hard Deck.

Wiping your hands on the front of your simple, navy blue sundress, you took a few more deep breaths, trying to calm your racing nerves.

Were you crazy? How were you seriously going to sing in front of all these people? What if you messed up? What if it was horribly cringey and everybody—

“Honey?”

You could hear your husband’s voice, thick with comfort and tenderness, as he pushed open the door and slid into the room, the noise from the bar fading once more as it swung shut behind him.

“Over here,” you called out in response, knowing he’d be able to find you in no time.

He did. Crouching down in front of you, he rested one large, warm palm over both your hands and looked into your eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “What’s wrong, baby? What are you doing back here?”

“Hiding,” you confessed, a shaky smile gracing your lips. “Kind of hoping that if I stay back here long enough, everyone will forget I signed up to do this.”

“Aw, baby,” Bradley smiled, settling himself down on a crate across from you and reaching out to pull you onto his lap. “Are you really that nervous?” he asked, running his hand up and down your back soothingly.

“I didn’t think I’d be,” you admitted, biting down on your lower lip. “I thought I would be okay. But now that it’s so close, and I see all those people out there, I’m starting to freak out a little bit.”

Bradley nodded in understanding, peppering your shoulder with soft kisses and stroking your arm lightly. “I know it’s scary, honey. Hell, even I get a little nervous when I play in front of a lot of people I don’t know.”

“Really? You do?” you asked, eyes widening in genuine surprise. “I never would have thought that, not in a million years. You always seem so confident.”

“I guess it’s sort of a part of the act, huh?” he replied, wiggling in his eyebrows teasingly. “Everybody gets nervous, baby. I’m sure everyone who signed up to perform tonight is feeling the same way you are. Well, maybe except Hangman,” he grinned, rolling his eyes good-naturedly and earning a laugh from you. “It’s normal to be nervous. It means you care about what you’re doing.”

You sighed softly, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

Bradley rested a gentle hand on your cheek, lifting your head so that you were looking at him. “Listen, honey. If you don’t want to perform tonight, you don’t have to. But I know how hard you worked, and I know how talented you are, and I’d hate for you to miss out on an opportunity to show that off tonight.”

You smiled slightly at that, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You’ll be with me the whole time, right?” you grinned, leaning in to rest your forehead against his.

“The whole time,” Bradley promised, kissing the tip of your nose. “You can keep your eyes on me. Just sing to me, honey.”

“Okay,” you nodded, your voice small, but your smile wide.

“That’s my girl,” Bradley said proudly, holding you in his arms as he stood up, and then setting you back down on your own two feet. “Come on, Mrs. Bradshaw. We’ve got a show to put on,” he grinned, taking your hand in his and leading you back into the bar, where Penny had set up a little makeshift stage for Open Mic Night.

“There you are,” Phoenix said, resting a hand on your shoulder. “We were getting worried. You’re up next,” she told you with a supportive grin, squeezing your arm excitedly.

Your stomach did a few little flips as the trio of girls who had been performing stepped down off the stage, and Penny stepped up to introduce you. She smiled brightly as she called you up, beckoning to you encouragingly.

Taking a deep breath, and with the well wishes of your friends in your ear, you moved forward and stepped up onto the stage, Bradley following closely behind you.

“Oh, yes, and we do have our very own Rooster Bradshaw accompanying on guitar tonight,” Penny added with a grin, clapping for the two of you as she stepped down and moved to stand beside Mav behind the bar.

“Hi, everyone,” you greeted the crowd with a smile, adjusting the microphone and swallowing back the nervousness that was threatening to spill over once more.

“HELLOOOOOOOO,” you heard the Dagger Squad screaming from their spot near the bar, which made you laugh despite your nerves.

“Um, I’m going to be singing a song many of you might be familiar with. It’s a little bit of a different arrangement, but I hope you’ll enjoy it,” you explained, doing your best to look over the audience members’ heads, a trick your mom had taught you when you were little and nervous about performing in the school play. You smiled over at Bradley and held out a hand towards him. “I’m very lucky to have my husband accompanying me on the guitar tonight. I know most of you are used to seeing him at the piano, but he is a man of many talents,” you chuckled.

The audience, many of whom were regulars at The Hard Deck, cheered and applauded for Bradley.

“And, well, I’d like to dedicate this song to him,” you went on, your eyes meeting his across the stage. You felt immediately centered and comforted by his warm, loving gaze. “Because I spent my whole life waiting for a hero. And I found him.”

The crowd let out soft little “Awws” at your pronouncement, but you were too focused on your husband to even notice.

“I love you,” he mouthed, shooting you a little wink as he settled his guitar on his lap and raised his fingers to the strings. He lifted his head to look at you, a question in his eyes.

When you nodded, he started strumming the opening chords of the song, the music very familiar to you now after weeks of drilling it into your mind.

“Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods?” you crooned softly into the microphone, holding onto it to steady your trembling hands. “Where’s the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?”

You could sense some people in the crowd smiling and nodding their heads, recognizing the song instantly.

“Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night, I toss and turn and dream of what I need,” you sang, turning your attention to Bradley.

You were singing for him. Just like you’d promised.

“I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero ’til the end of the night. He's gotta be strong, he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be larger than life. Larger than life,” you went on, your voice strong, yet sweet as you imbued each word with meaning.

As the song went on, your confidence grew and you were even able to make eye contact with some people in the audience. You could see Mav and Penny behind the bar, beaming proudly and waving to you as they shot you the thumbs-up sign. Phoenix was recording your performance on her phone, and the rest of the Dagger Squad had their hands up in the air, cheering you on.

And Bradley. Your sweet husband. His calloused fingers strummed the guitar expertly as he watched you perform with love and pride glowing brightly in his warm eyes.

“Through the wind and the chill and the rain, and the storm and the raging flood. Oh, his approach is like the fire in my blood. I'll meet a hero,” your voice lilted as you entered into the final portion of the song. “And then we'll dance ’til the morning light,” you sang intentionally, winking over at Bradley.

If there was one thing your husband loved to do, it was dance with you.

Bradley winked back as you moved into the final chorus, holding out a sustained note as you sang yearningly for your hero to be “larger than life.”

He was. He really was. Your hero was everything you had ever hoped for and more, all wrapped up in the handsome man seated across the stage, guitar in hand as he gave you the confidence you needed to stand in front of this huge crowd of people and sing your heart out.

When the song finally came to an end, your cheeks flushed pleasantly from the heat of the lights and your own endorphins, the audience erupted into applause, cheering and hollering in support. You could hear your friends chanting your name from the bar, whooping loudly as they clapped for you.

“Thank you,” you murmured softly into the microphone, figuring it would be best to get off the stage before your legs completely turned to Jell-O.

As you started to turn, however, you were surprised to see Phoenix running towards the stage, a large bouquet of flowers in hand. Instead of passing them to you, however, she quickly turned them over to Bradley, who was carefully setting his guitar off to the side of the stage.

“What’s this?” you asked in surprise as he walked over to hand them to you. They were your favorite, of course—yellow roses. You had no idea when he’d managed to sneak these past you.

“For you, honey,” he said, placing them in your hands. He reached up to cup your cheek, beaming down at you. “I’m so proud of you,” he added softly, leaning in to kiss you soundly, right there on the stage in the middle of The Hard Deck.

The crowd began cheering even louder, which made you laugh and blush, hiding your face in your husband’s neck as the two of you finally broke apart.

“Looks like it was Mrs. Rooster who brought down the house tonight!” someone from the back of the crowd called, which made everyone else laugh.

Taking your hand in his, Bradley guided you off the stage, Penny stopping to give you a big hug on her way back up to announce the next performer.

“Great job, sweetheart,” she said proudly, kissing your cheek before continuing on.

As soon as you got to the bar, your friends swarmed around you, congratulating you and complimenting you on what an amazing job you’d done.

“How did you manage to hide that voice from us all this time?” Coyote demanded, shaking his head in shock.

“She’s modest,” Phoenix laughed, giving you a warm hug.

“What are you going to sing for us next?” Fanboy wanted to know, grinning as he nudged you playfully.

“Alright, alright, give her a chance to breathe,” Bradley chuckled, resting his hands on your shoulders. He leaned in closer, his mouth pressed against your ear as he whispered, “Want to go outside for a little air?”

You nodded immediately, slipping your hand into his as he pulled you towards the side exit, where the deck looked to be empty for the time being.

“You did it, baby,” Bradley murmured once the two of you were outside, the evening air feeling blessedly cool on your flushed skin. “I knew you could do it.”

“Only because of you,” you grinned, setting your flowers down on the deck railing and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Bradley shook his head, smiling as he rested his hands on your hips and gazed down at you. “No, that was all you, honey. You blew them away. You blew me away,” he grinned, nuzzling his nose against yours. “You should be really proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.”

Beaming, you slid your fingers into his hair and pulled him down for a kiss, his hands moving upward to rest on your back as he pulled you closer to his chest. You would never grow tired of his kisses, or of the feel of his strong arms holding you and keeping you safe.

“I love you,” you whispered, pressing soft, gentle pecks to his upper lip, then his lower lip, then the corners of his mouth. “And I meant what I said up there. You’re my hero, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Bradley smiled, reaching up to hold your face delicately between both his hands. “And you’re mine.”

You and your husband stood quietly together on the deck, wrapped in each other’s arms as you watched the waves crash onto the shore and listened to the soft strains of music emanating from the bar.

Suddenly, Phoenix came rushing out, nearly out of breath in her hurry to come find the two of you. “It’s time! Come on! You don’t want to miss this,” she grinned, turning on her heel and practically running back inside.

Laughing, you and Bradley hurried after her. And the performance that awaited you certainly did not disappoint.

For all that you had been proud of your performance, nothing could compare to the sight of Hangman, Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, and a hapless Bob up on stage, belting out what was quite possibly the most painful rendition of Take My Breath Away that you had ever heard.

You loved every second of it.

And so did the crowd apparently, judging by the standing ovation they received.

“And that’s how it’s done,” Hangman smirked as he swaggered back over to the bar, walking straight past the girls who were very clearly making eyes at him and just so happening to land back by Phoenix’s side.

“Very impressive,” you grinned, leaning against Bradley as he sat perched on one of the bar stools.

“Next Open Mic Night, you’ll all have to sing something together!” Penny exclaimed, grinning knowingly.

“Next Open Mic Night?” you asked, shooting her a questioning look.

Penny winked as she cleared a few glasses off the bar. “Better start whipping out your songbook, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

#mr. & mrs. bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #mrs. bradshaw #rooster x wife!reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #miles teller #top gun #top gun: maverick

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