you make it easy (b.b)
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader Word count: 2.9k CW: Maybe one swear
Based on this request: "Hi! I really love your writing and I was wondering if you could please do a fic with rooster where the reader about to go on a super high end mission that’s very dangerous and she’s like really scared but she’s bend bottling up her emotions and feelings about it until like the night before the mission she just breaks down in front of Bradley in their shared home and just tells him she super scared and doesn’t want to die and he comforts her and stuff? You obviously don’t have to if you don’t want to!! Thank youuu!!"
In the weeks leading up to what could only be called the most important mission of your career, you’d been doing your best to hide your nerves from your partner. It had been no easy feat, since Bradley Bradshaw was the most attentive man to ever walk the earth. Most of the time, he knew what you were feeling and why before you knew yourself, and since this was one of the reasons you loved him so much, it made no sense for you to hide things from him.
You justified it to yourself by saying you were doing it to protect him. If he didn’t know how stressed and nervous you really were about this mission, then he wouldn’t feel stressed and nervous either. He would be able to let you go with the promise of dinner at your favourite restaurant when you returned home, and hopefully, he wouldn’t spend the following month worrying about you.
You thought you’d been doing a pretty good job so far.
But now, on the night before the mission, you found yourself stuck in the shower waiting for the sobs wracking your body to abate so you could finish washing your hair and get back to Bradley. He had a whole afternoon planned: farewell drinks with the Daggers at The Hard Deck, followed by dinner served picnic-style on the private beach by your home. You were supposed to have been ready half an hour ago, and you knew the longer you spent crying, the harder it was going to be to stop. You had to hurry the hell up and—
‘You okay in there, sweetheart?’ Bradley called from the doorway.
You swallowed another sob before it could hit you. ‘Y-yeah!’ You sputtered. ‘Sorry! I’ll be five minutes.’
‘Okay…’
Bradley didn’t sound convinced, but he closed the door anyway.
About ten minutes later, you were washed and halfway dressed.
Bradley was sprawled out on your bed, watching you pick an outfit with a bemused smile on his face.
‘You don’t have to wear anything fancy,’ he told you. ‘It’s only The Hard Deck.’
You frowned at your wardrobe. ‘I know, but I’m gonna be stuck in flight suits for the next month, so I wanna make the most of it.’
The bed creaked as Bradley got up, and not a second later, his arms slid around your waist and pulled you against his chest. He pressed kisses along your bare shoulders and up the side of your neck.
‘What about that pretty yellow dress you wore on our first date,’ he suggested, voice low and sultry. ‘You always look amazing in it.’
You smiled. ‘I thought you said only you’re allowed to see me in it.’
‘Maybe I was being dramatic,’ he purred.
You laughed. ‘Okay, yellow dress it is. Now shoo,’ you patted his arm, and he pulled away from you. ‘We’re already late.’
‘We could just cancel,’ he suggested hopefully. ‘I’ll tell them I want you all to myself on your last night Stateside.’
Your stomach dropped at the mention of your mission. ‘No, we should go. Who knows when I’ll see them again,’ you mumbled.
As you swiped the dress in question off its hanger, you caught Bradley stiffen in your peripheral.
‘What was that?’ He asked.
You balled up the soft yellow fabric in your fist, willing yourself not to cry. ‘I said we should go.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m not gonna see them again for a while,’ you replied stiffly.
‘It’s only a month, baby,’ he reassured you, taking the dress from your hands and laying it on the bed. ‘It’s gonna go by so fast.’
Oh no. This was exactly what you didn’t want—Bradley making a fuss, reassuring you, telling you everything was going to be okay. It only made you want to cry even more.
‘I know,’ you said quickly, grabbing the dress again. ‘I’m gonna get changed and do my hair. Be ready to leave in ten.’
And with that, you disappeared into the bathroom, leaving a very concerned Bradley to wonder what the hell just happened.
Later, in The Hard Deck, Bradley didn’t leave your side once. If any of the Daggers noticed that you were on edge, they didn’t mention it.
Everyone in your squad had been on their fair share of lengthy, high-profile missions without the security blanket that was the rest of the group to comfort them. It wasn’t as if this was your first rodeo; you just felt worse about it than usual. Maybe it was because you and Bradley had built such a beautiful life together, and you had more to lose if it went wrong.
‘Penny for your thoughts,’ Phoenix said, sliding into the seat beside you.
Bradley squeezed your thigh reassuringly, and you threw on a convincing smile. ‘Just thinking about how much I’m going to miss happy hour,’ you joked.
‘Valid,’ Phoenix laughed. ‘How are you feeling about the mission?’
Terrified, sick to my stomach, ready to disappear into hiding and get dishonourably discharged were all answers that ran through your head.
But you said: ‘I feel great about it. It’s a great career stepping stone.’
Phoenix nodded, but she looked unconvinced. ‘What about you, Bradshaw? You gonna be alright fending for yourself for a month?’
The thought of him doing all your shared rituals by himself made you want to fling yourself into the ocean.
‘I’m not totally helpless, Nat,’ he drawled.
‘That’s yet to be proven,’ she quipped.
You got up and left the table under the guise of getting another round, and ran into Maverick at the bar. He was nursing a cold beer, watching his fiancée work the bar—pretty much his default state these days.
‘Hey, Captain,’ you greeted, already exhausted by all the fake smiles but unable to stop. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Pretty good,’ he replied, gesturing to Penny. ‘Just waiting for this one to get off work. How are you, Lieutenant? You’ve got an early start in the morning, so I’d rethink those shots I know Hangman’s making you order.’
You chuckled. ‘No shots. At least not for me. I don’t need my head getting any more messed up than it already is.’
The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you facepalmed internally.
‘What’s up? You getting cold feet about this mission?’ Maverick asked, concern etched into his face.
‘Would it matter if I was?’ You asked. ‘It’s not like I can pull out.’
‘No,’ he relented. ‘But if you wanna go over anything, I’m happy to sit and talk with you as long as you need.’
You knew the mission inside and out. Bradley said you’d been reciting parts of it in your sleep over the past couple of weeks. Talking about the mission parameters was probably the last thing you needed.
‘I’m okay, but thanks, Mav,’ you smiled.
Maverick glanced at Bradley, who was watching your whole interaction knowingly. ‘If you aren’t gonna talk to me, maybe you should talk to Rooster. It’s normal to be anxious, and talking it out really does help. If you bottle everything up, it’s gonna overflow at the most inconvenient time—better it happens in a controlled environment than in the air tomorrow.’
You released a shaky breath, appalled at yourself for not thinking of it that way. What if you had a breakdown mid-flight and got yourself and your unit killed?
‘You know what,’ you sighed. ‘You’re right. Thank you.’
‘Any time,’ he said. ‘Good luck, Y/CS. You’re the best pilot for this mission—don’t let yourself forget it.’
For the rest of the evening, you tried your best to be present in the moment. You laughed at all of Fanboy’s bad jokes, listened to Bob’s clever advice, played pool with Hangman and Coyote, let Payback thrash you at darts one last time, and let Phoenix buy you one cocktail. After that, it was time to head home. You still had to get through dinner with Bradley and make it to bed at a healthy time.
Bradley didn’t speak the whole drive home, which would have been fine, except he didn’t sing along to the shitty 80s pop songs that played on the radio, either. When you arrived home, he went straight to the kitchen and started filling the cool bag with food and drink for your picnic.
It wasn’t until you started the short walk to the private beach in front of your house that he spoke.
‘I spoke to Mav,’ Bradley said, switching the picnic bag to his other hand so he could hold yours. ‘He thinks you’re torn up about the mission.’
Your stomach flip-flopped. ‘Why would he think that?’
‘It’s his job to know how his pilots are feeling,’ Bradley explained. ‘Plus, he’s been flying for a long, long time.’
‘I’m fine,’ you insisted, swallowing thickly. ‘As I said to Mav, it’s not my first rodeo.’
Bradley stopped. He set the bag down on the ground and turned to face you, taking both your hands in his.
‘You don’t need to put on a front for me, sweetheart. It’s normal to be scared. Hell, I’m terrified, and it’s not even me going on the mission.’
Your bottom lip started to wobble, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the facade you’d spent weeks building crumbled around you.
‘I don’t want to go,’ you mumbled. Bradley pulled you close to his chest, and the tears started to flow. ‘It just doesn’t feel like all the other times,’ you said. ‘What if something goes wrong? What if I don’t make it back to you this time? Or what if I make it back and I’m not the same person I was when I left?’
Bradley stroked your hair softly. ‘You’re one of the greatest pilots I’ve ever known,’ he told you earnestly. ‘If anyone can make it through this mission, it’s you. If they didn’t think you have what it takes, they wouldn’t be sending you.’
‘And if it changes me?’ You sniffled.
‘Then I will love that version of you just as much as I love this one. What’s the worst that could happen? You come back even stronger and hotter than when you left?’
You laughed, pulling back so you could see Bradley’s face. ‘You always know just what to say.’
Bradley beamed. ‘What can I say? I’m good at loving you, because you make it so goddamn easy.’
Your whole body softened as you threw your arms around your boyfriend, breathing him in. Suddenly, you felt like a massive idiot.
‘I never should’ve hid my feelings,’ you murmured against his neck.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, somehow pulling you even closer to him. ‘I could’ve made you feel better about this weeks ago if you’d just talked to me, baby.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ he said, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. ‘Just let me support you the way you always support me, okay?’
You nodded, and he swiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb.
‘Do you really think you’re going to be able to fend for yourself?’
Bradley tipped his head back and laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you’d heard all day. ‘What is it with all the women in my life having no faith in me? I know how to make instant noodles!’
‘Bradley!’ You exclaimed, cheeks aching from grinning. ‘This is exactly why I don’t wanna go!’
He smirked, sweeping you off your feet and throwing you over his shoulder. He didn’t put you down when you screeched, just held tighter as he ran down the short path to the sand.
When your feet touched the warm sand, and you looked up at his flushed cheeks and his toothy grin, you were reminded of everything good in your life—everything you would fight like hell to come home to.
‘Bradley—’
‘Instant noodles aren’t that bad,’ he said, cutting you off. ‘And I was only kidding.’
You reached up and brushed a stray curl off his forehead. ‘No, I was just going to say how much I love you. Also, you forgot the picnic.’
Bradley froze, looked down at the sand, and then realised that he had indeed left the food in the dunes.
‘Fuck!’ He yelled. ‘I’ll be back!’
He turned on his heel and ran, but stopped halfway up the path, as though he’d forgotten something important.
He turned around, cupped his hands over his mouth and—loud enough for the whole of San Diego to hear—he yelled: ‘I LOVE YOU TOO!’
