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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

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Hello Star!! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you will okay to write a Bradley x reader with the prompt; “please talk to me. i need to know you’re alright.” Thank you so much bby<333

A/N: Pav! Thanks for this amazing ask! You're so lovely and this prompt was dynamite. It was supposed to be a drabble and 2.7K words later, here we are! I hope you love it as much as I love you and this request! More under the cut!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Most people mention their first boyfriend or girlfriend when they talk about falling in love for the first time. You always had a different answer. You fell in love before you even knew what romantic love was. You were nine years old when your parents moved your family across the country to San Diego. As expected of a precocious nine-year-old, you were less than enthused at the thought of leaving everything and everyone you knew what felt like a million miles away. And you’d shown that frustration by causing a fuss through every moment of the moving process, from packing your things to the long flight to San Diego. Your mom had finally had enough of you underfoot when the moving van showed up with boxes of your belongings in front of your new house.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you take your stuffed bear and play outside.” Though she was smiling, you knew the difference between a request and an order, and this was definitely an order. There was a small backyard fenced off behind your house full of long blades of overgrown grass. Curious, you took your bear, named Pooh Bear long ago, after your favorite childhood cartoon, on an exploratory adventure. After hours in a cramped, stuffy plane, the fragrant sun-warmed grass felt like heaven. The backyard was so overgrown that you had soon fashioned yourself and Mr. Pooh, your erstwhile associate, as explorers making your way through an unknown jungle. In the back corner of the yard was a large, beautiful old tree. Throughout your explorations, you soon found yourself babbling away at Pooh and settling down in the shadow of that beautiful tree. You’d talked yourself out and were waiting for the noise of the movers to fade so you could finally beg your mom for a snack when a plane landed in your lap.

“Hello? Hello!” A reedy voice had called over the fence to you. “Is there anybody there?”

“Yes! Are you missing a plane by any chance?” You shouted back.

“I am! I’m in house number 15!” The voice yelled back at you. “Can we meet in the front yard so I can get my plane back?”

“I just have to tell my mom where I’m going, and I’ll meet you right there!” You’d yelled back, excited. A friend! Hopefully, this boy would want to be your friend.

Plane and Pooh Bear in tow, you excitedly scurry back into the house.

“Mom! Mom!” You’re practically shrieking in your excitement.

“What?! What is it, sweetheart?” Your mother had sounded harried, her hair sticking to her forehead in the heat of an early San Diego summer.

“A boy from next door lost his toy plane over the fence! Can I go give it back to him?” You’d wheedled, your voice pleading as you had tried your best to look as innocent as possible. “I promise we’ll be in the front yard and only in the front yard. He said he lived in number 15!”

“Alright, sweetheart. You can go to return the plane. But if you hear me calling for you, you’d better come right back. Ok?” She held your eyes until you’d nodded eagerly, your glasses sliding down your nose with each jolt of your head. Permission gained, you’d rushed out the front door, pausing perfunctorily to shove your feet into a pair of flip-flops, dodging the movers as you’d rushed helter-skelter out of the house. Pooh Bear and plane in hand, you’d skipped out to the sidewalk in front of your house. To your left, the house was obscured by the moving truck in your driveway. The house to the right, however, was labeled number 15. You knew you’d got the right house when the screen door slapped open, and a gangly tow-headed boy strides out. This must be the boy who'd lost the plane. He’s tall with dirty blonde hair and big brown eyes.

“Hi!” You introduce yourself and Mr. Pooh Bear. “I’m nine years old and just moved in next door. Here’s your plane!” You’d been grinning widely, the gaps in your teeth on full display as you peered up at the boy, carefully cradling the plane in his hands.

“I’m Bradley, Bradley Bradshaw.” He’d finally responded. “I’m eleven.”

“So you like planes?”

“Yeah,” He’d finally smiled back at you. “I love them. My dad was in the Navy. He died when I was two years old. He used to fly in one of these every day. My Uncle Mav gave me this toy. Thanks for bringing it back.”

“Can you tell me more about it?” You’d asked carefully.

That had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship with Bradley Bradshaw. He’d been your best friend since that summer day when you were nine and he was eleven. Most of your childhood had been spent running into and out of your houses. Both of your mothers had oft joked that they’d be in-laws as soon as you grew up, as close as you were.

You’d been sixteen, and he’d been eighteen when you’d realized your feelings for Bradley were more than friendly. That summer had been the most taxing on both of you. His mom, Carole, had been increasingly sick, and he hadn’t known how to deal with the possibility of losing her. You’d spent many an afternoon sitting under the tree in your backyard, holding your best friend as he’d sobbed, still gangly but grown into his height. You’d been his support, standing at the cemetery later on that summer, propping him up as he’d laid the only family he had left to rest. You'd been the only person he'd told about Mav pulling his papers to the Naval Academy. You were the only person he’d said goodbye to a few weeks later when he decided to leave everything he'd ever known, including you.

You were roused from your sleep by pebbles clattering against your window. In the early morning light, you’d cracked open your blinds to see Bradley’s window open across from yours. You’d heaved the blinds open and scribbled on a notebook, “I’ll meet you downstairs!”. You’d snuck downstairs and met Bradley on your front lawn at his nod.

“Hey, Bradshaw. What’s going on?” You’d felt exceedingly ugly in your duck-printed pajamas, especially as Bradley was fully dressed.

“I’m leaving.”

“What?!”

“I enlisted in the Navy yesterday. I’m driving to Pensacola for my basic training, leaving right now.”

"Is this because of Mav? When he pulled your papers?" You'd been in shock, processing the news.

"Yeah. I'm still angry, but I found another way to fly for the Navy. And this time, I will prove that I can do it." You'd seen the anger in his eyes.

When your eyes had teared up at the thought of losing him, he’d crushed you to his chest.

“I know, Sweetheart.” He’d murmured. “I know. I’m going to miss you too.” His eyes are soft and sad in the dimness of the morning light. “I couldn’t leave without telling my best girl goodbye.”

“Bradley!” You’d sobbed in earnest, feeling your heart break for real. “I don’t want you to go!”

“I don’t want to go either. But I have to!” He’d tried so hard to convince you. “It’s the only chance I have to achieve my dreams.”

“But I love you, Bradley!” You’d finally had enough, letting the words slip off your tongue in your grief. “Please don’t go.”

He’d cried before kissing you clumsily. “I love you too, Sweetheart. I wish I’d told you how much before now. I have to go to Florida, but I want you to promise you’ll call.”

And call you had, every night for all the years he’d been in the Navy, continuing until he’d been back in San Diego at Top Gun. That was when you’d finally taken your relationship to the next level and then gotten married a year later, just like Carole and your Mom had hoped over a decade earlier.

Being a Navy wife was the hardest thing you thought your relationship would ever have to overcome. The constant worry for him and the length of his deployments stressed your relationship more than you’d ever seen. Or so you thought. This new mission Bradley had been pulled into as part of a special detachment scared you witless. It scared him too. You’d known him for two decades; the only time you’d seen him this frightened was before Carole died. Add to that the stress of having Maverick in his life again, and you didn’t know when you’d get your happy, sweet, golden retriever of a husband back again.

Three short weeks later, after everything had gone down, you got the bare bones of the mission details from Maverick and knew the healing process for Bradley would not be easy after what he’d been through. At first, Bradley had seemed lighter, more like the boy you’d first fallen in love with. He was reconnecting with his Uncle Mav. His physical wounds had healed in no time at all. And then the nightmares set in. Nearly every night, he’d woken you screaming for Maverick, sweating profusely, shivering, and shaking. On occasion, you’d even woken to hear him retching in the bathroom. No matter what you did, he wouldn’t open up to you. So you’d resolved to keep an eye on him. That’s why you found yourself at the Hard Deck one night with the rest of the newly named permanent Dagger Squadron.

Bradley was his usual cheery self, outwardly, at least. But you knew him well enough to see the differences. He'd joked and bantered, drinking and trash-talking as he played pool. But when the spotlight shone on others, you could see the shadows in his eyes.

“Hey, Missus Bradshaw!” Phoenix is grinning. You smile back at your husband’s closest friend in the Navy.

“Hey, Phe.”

“C’mere.” She tugs you to a less crowded corner where Bob sits. She gestures between them. “We’ve been meaning to talk to you. There’s something up with Rooster. He’s not himself, not since we got back. He’s quieter, and though Bagman seems to make him just as loud as he used to be, he hasn’t roused the bar into song since we returned. The piano’s gathering dust over there. Mav’s noticed, and so has Penny. We’re all getting worried about him. But he won’t talk to us. Maybe you can use your feminine wiles to get him to cough up what’s bothering him?”

They’re both gazing expectantly at you, Bob as always following Phoenix’s lead.

“I’ll see what I can do, Phe. But he doesn’t talk to me either.” You shrug, letting your worry bow your shoulders. “Do you know where he went?”

“I saw him head out onto the beach.” It’s sweet Bob who speaks. You grin in thanks, pressing a kiss to his cheek, adjusting his glasses, then your own, and leave your drink with Phoenix before heading out to find your husband.

It’s a beautiful summer night in San Diego. The balmy ocean breeze brushes your hair from your face as you pull your sandals off and walk barefoot through the sand. Bradley’s starfished out in the sand, a little ways off. He’s humming tunelessly under his breath, and you can’t help but smile when he breaks into the chorus, “Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of Fire!”

“Hiya, Handsome,” you murmur tenderly, sitting on the still-warm sand near his head. “This isn’t where I expected to find you.”

He laughs, eyes blearily focused on your face, tone nearly hysterical as he cackles joylessly.

“You nearly didn’t find me here at all, Sweetheart.” His voice is rough. “In another world, if it weren’t for Mav, you’d be a widow with a Military flag in our house.”

“B …” Your chest aches at his words. “I know, baby. Mav told me.”

He sits up carelessly, tugging you under his arm.

“Please talk to me. I need to know you’re alright.” You place your hand over his heart, resting your head against his broad shoulder. “I’m worried sick. You’re not eating. You’re not sleeping. You’re a shadow of yourself. And I don’t know how to help you.” You’re sniffling now, breathing in his cologne as you sit cradled in his arms. “Please, please talk to me, Bradley.”

For a long time, all you can hear is the rush of the ocean and the faint roar of the patrons at the Hard Deck. Bradley’s a line of heat against your side as you sit in the sand.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know how to find the words.” His voice is harsh, throat working furiously as you look at him. “In the middle of that mission, with missiles flying through the air and me as their target, I thought I’d never see you again. I wanted nothing more than to see, hold, and tell you I loved you again.”

Tears are dripping down his face, mirroring the tears leaving your eyes.

“And then I got shot down. And I knew I’d never see you again. Never see our babies be born or teach them everything they need to know. And the worst of it all, I made my peace with that. I asked Jake, Bagman, to take care of you after I was chosen before we launched. He’s exactly the kind of man you’d be happy with if not me.” He’s breathing roughly, on the edge of a panic attack, eyes staring unfocused out over the water. “And then Mav pulled his pilot shit, and I don’t know how to live anymore. I feel like Bradley Bradshaw was left in the snow that day.”

“Bradley, baby. I wouldn’t want to go through this life with anyone but you!” Your voice is thin, reedy, “I love you. And,” Your voice is wry as you continue, “while I’m sure Jake Seresin is a consummate gentleman, I think Phe would have a problem with me spending the rest of my life with him.”

You both chuckle, somewhat hysterically, sitting in the sand.

“So, where do we go from here?" He's quiet as you both sit, staring out at the waves.

"We live, Lieutenant Bradshaw." His mustache quirks at your use of his title. "We live our life together, as we promised in our vows. You're going to get the name of the therapist Mav's been seeing and make an appointment to talk to them."

"And," You murmur as Bradley rises to his feet, drawing you up with him, "you need to kiss me. Now. Kiss me like you wanted to when you weren't sure you would ever see me again."

He's smiling now, like he was at eighteen when he'd kissed you goodbye and like he has every time he'd kissed you since. His mouth against yours is gentle, his mustache brushing softly against your upper lip as you stretch to meet him. His arms wrap around your waist as the kiss deepens. You can finally feel him relax in your arms. This is where his healing begins.

You can't help the grin on your face and voice as you walk back to the Hard Deck, looking at your husband.

"And anyhow, Mr. Bradshaw, you'll kiss me a lot in the coming months."

"Why's that?"

"You're telling me you won't kiss your pregnant wife as she grows your only child?" You're pouting at first, but that transitions to giggles as he comes to a complete stop on the wooden planks that lead from the Hard Deck to the beach.

"You're pregnant?" His voice cracks, wonder in his eyes.

"Yeah. I've been drinking soda with Bob all night. I'm about 12 weeks along. Baby Bradshaw was conceived when I met you in Hawai'i for our anniversary when you were temporarily stationed there."

You're swept into his arms again and kissed until your lips ache with the force of it. He drops you gently back onto your feet before flinging the glass doors leading into the Hard Deck open with a crash. It's late, and only a few stragglers, the Dagger Squad, Mav, and Penny, are left inside. His dramatic attention brings everyone’s eyes to the two of you.

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY!” He roars, all the pain and fears finally off his shoulders now that he’s spoken to you. Now that he’s shared his fears with you. The bar comes back to life in barely a second. The Dagger Squad, save Phoenix, Bob, and Penny, congregates around Bradley while the other three congregate around you. You’re soon squished tight in congratulatory hugs by everyone. You grin when Bradley Bradshaw finally sits at the piano, serenading your heart home. Healing will be challenging, but not so long as your husband tells you he loves you.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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