Barely Even Over. - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x F!Reader
Word Count: I don’t know, I’ll update this when I’m off mobile
Summary: You’ve never been good with complacency. You’ve nearly broken it off four times with Bradley before, feeling trapped and needing to run. You don’t know why it happens, or why you feel so compelled to escape. This time, you can’t get past it. What had always been passing conversation has been a full production. You’re nearly to the curtain close when the entire thing is derailed by a very agitated pilot on your front porch.
Content Warning: lots of cursing, lots of angst, potential trigger for anxiety
Author’s Note: I’ve been obsessed with this song by Drake Milligan and I couldn’t get this out of my brain. Also!! Rooster content? In 2024? Wow. - unedited, unbeta’ed we die like idiots.
God, you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. The fact that it was almost eleven o’clock at night and someone was pounding at your door was one of the countless reasons you’d put in a transfer request.
The main reason you were leaving stood on the other side of your open door.
Bradley stands, dripping wet from the monsoon that’s raging outside (you’d heard it from the wind and the pelting rain on your window), the most vicious look on his face. You spot the equally soggy piece of paper you’d shoved in his mailbox this morning in his hand.
“You really thought you could just drop this off and bolt out of town without a word?” He shakes the wet mangled letter around, a drop of water flinging to the tip of your nose. When he starts into it, you’re pushing the door shut, regretting not checking the peephole before you tugged the door open. Rooster’s hand grabs the edge of the wood before you can get too far, pushing his body weight into it to keep it ajar.
“Or that I had to hear from Hangman of all people that he saw a moving truck taking your shit?” You turn and enter into the empty apartment, trying to avoid this conversation. That was the point of the letter, the point of no contact the last few hours. You were about five hours from departing San Jose and never coming back. Bradley slams the door shut as he follows you inside.
“Jesus, wake all the neighbors while you’re at it Bradshaw.” You groan, stepping into your bathroom to do a mindless check that everything had been packed. That you weren’t forgetting anything.
“Fuck the neighbors, Gemstone! You were going to just fucking ghost me? Ditch me without a goddamn word?” You can hear the pain singe his voice. A normally smooth and entertained gruff is resentful and burned instead when he speaks to you. He follows you as you move to the kitchen to do one last once over, averting this onslaught as much as you could. “Drop a shitty letter in my mailbox to dump my ass, ignore my texts, decline my calls - not a single word from you! What the fuck??”
“I’m being restationed, Rooster, it’s not-“
“Oh bullshit!! Mav told me the truth! You fucking requested the transfer! You thought you could sneak away without witnessing the storm you’re fucking making! Just dropping all your ties and escaping -“ he huffs and the paper in his hand is crumbled into a wet lump, then slammed at a nearby wall. So much for your security deposit. “You are always looking for an out. For a reason to leave California- the navy- me. As if the last three years were so fuckin’ miserable that you needed to just vanish. Like nothing ever happened.” Bradley is seething with each curse and vent that exists his lungs.
You’ve run out of cabinets to check. Out of options to avoid looking at him. So when you finally do, you see the mustached man shaking slightly from the temperature of the cold water clinging to him via a damp Hawaiian shirt. The way his eyes locked to you with seething hurt, a brokenness you couldn’t comprehend.
He wasn’t supposed to get home from his training in Atlanta until tomorrow. You were supposed to disappear. Jake and his big fucking mouth. Before you can say anything, Bradley turns to face you fully, brows pushing downward as if it would expel the anger out.
“Three years. Fucking three years and you think you can step out like this. Without a word, without giving a rhyme or a reason - leaving in the middle of the night - without a clue you were even considering this?? Buying fucking plane tickets behind my back?? Packing your entire god damn life up without a notion of the feelings of people around you - of your fucking boyfriend? You didn’t think to have the decency to break up with me to my face??” His hand points to the slop against the wall that had been your letter. His notice of termination so to speak. “The fact you couldn’t say it out loud- couldn’t face any of this at the face value means you don’t actually want to do it. You don’t want to do it, you’re just scared. You’re scared of the same surroundings, the same job, the same city, the same house, the same person, Gem. That’s what you are. Always leaving so you don’t get hurt when you get freaked out.” The register of his words is loud, but not nearly as loud as the next round of spitfire.
“If we’re gonna break up you’re gonna do it now! You’re gonna say what you put on that god damn piece of paper to my fucking face! That you never loved me, that you’ve been hanging on to a lie! That you can’t stand to stay in this god forsaken city a single second more! You don’t get to just leave and not see this!!” He points to his expression. “The mad! The angry, the rejection and betrayal! If you’re gonna do it you’re gonna do it to my face!” Finally, finally, Bradley takes a shaking breath, turning away to try to collect himself.
“Bradley, I didn’t want to do this like this for a reason-“ he spins. There are tears rolling down his face.
“Fuck, I love you.” The stinging sensation starts. The familiarly ominous feeling that sinks in and starts to eat at you every time you’ve had this conversation. “You loved me. I know you did. At some point you did, I know you did and you can’t lie to me and say you didn’t.” The hot tears are barely breaking surface tension along your lash line. “Don’t leave me like this, Gems. Don’t- cause I won’t-“ he hovers in his words, “I think I deserve at least a bad goodbye. Not some letter full of lies hit you don’t mean. Some pathetic attempt at closure is better than whatever the fuck this is. This, this, sorry excuse for a break up.” His feet come sinking toward you as he reaches out. You don’t back away.
His hand takes your hand, squeezing it tightly, his other hand coming to wipe your own tears in the hollow room. “I can take hellfire. I can take screaming, shouting, shit, you can hate me if you have to, honey.” It’s so fractured, his voice. Strained from shouting, tainted with emotions he clearly hasn’t come to understand yet, “just… don’t leave me like this. Still so in love with you. Still wanting to see your face when I wake up every day, to curl into you and avoid the world a little longer- still wanting to fix that damn car with you,” you stifle a laugh, despite the gravity of everything, “still completely and utterly adoring you. Don’t leave me loving you. Please, Gems, don’t.”
The two of you grow quiet, Rooster’s hand still clutching to yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He pulls you in, lips pressing to your forehead. He stays there as a soft cry that moves through his chest, tears dampening your hair as the two of you stand there in the cruelty of your wake.
Chapter summary: Is this the worst day of your life? It's definitely up there
Chapter trigger warnings: parental funeral, vague description of a religious funeral, googled (probably inaccurate) biker funeral ideas
Ch. 12 "Despite the Toll of the Dead"
You quickly swipe at the tears streaming down your cheeks with the hand not wrapped around your father’s bicep, holding on for dear life. The arm wrapped around your shoulder tightened as you shifted your gaze from the ground to Carole’s face who then gave you a reassuring half smile and a squeeze from her hand on your shoulder, before you went back to staring at the ground.
You’re fortunate enough not to have many days in your life that you’ve called “the worst day of your life”, in fact you can only think of three, but this one takes the cake. Knowing your mother is dead and watching her funeral take place are two very different things.
The funeral itself had been a blur. You could barely recall being at the church not even an hour prior to meeting at your mother’s final resting place. You only remember glimpses of things. Your mother’s casket being carried in by your uncles and Bradley. Uncle Wolfie standing behind you with a hand perpetually on your shoulder. Carole doing a reading at the pulpit. The priest speaking quite highly of your mother, not that you had ever heard anyone speak badly of her. You felt choked the minute you stepped into the church until you stepped back outside afterwards. The air outside felt freeing in a way when you left the doors, however the site waiting for you as you stepped out of the church caught your breath once again. Bikes. Hundreds of them. Filled the entire parking lot. You knew the church was filled but you didn’t realize the amount of people who had come to pay their respects to your mother until you saw the ones who couldn’t fit into the church.
Your father, ever the stoic president, just nodded at the group as he went to his bike to head to the cemetery. You rode over with Carole in the Bronco, bikes and dresses don’t always mix well. Neither you or Carole spoke on the drive over. You were too lost in your thoughts to speak anyway. You were thankful for the time alone with Carole. It was grounding. You know you could have broken down in the car and there wouldn’t have been any judgment. It was a safe space.Your safe space. Carole and your mother had been so entwined together in your mind that your brain sometimes couldn’t tell the difference between them in memories.
All of that brought you here, standing near your mother’s grave, listening to the priest say a few more words. Prayers you assume. You can’t really focus on what he’s saying. Everything just feels….numb. Your mother’s casket is finally lowered into the earth and the tears flow more freely down your cheeks. Everyone is quiet as the reality sets in before loud revving is heard from the small cemetery’s road. All those not surrounding the funeral plot had stayed on their bikes to send your mother off with one last rev. You even see your father wiping away tears at that.
Slider takes point for your father and announces that there would be a celebration of life cookout at the club immediately after this and that everyone was invited if they so wished.
As people dispersed, you stayed staring at the hole in the ground that now housed your mother. What were you supposed to do now? Just go on living when she doesn’t get that same opportunity? It’s not fair.
Carole and your father stayed by your side. When you finally looked up you were sure that the three of you would be the only ones there but as you turned around to head back to the Bronco with Carole your eyes met those same deep brown eyes that haunt your dreams.
Bradley gives you a half smile as he holds his hand out to you. You look up at your father who nods at you as Carole lightly guides you to take a step towards her son. You put your hand in his and he leads you towards his bike. You look back towards your father and Carole as your father throws an arm over Carole’s shoulders. She winks at you before you get to Bradley’s bike.
“But I’m in a dress,” you explain as you look at Bradley funny.
“When has that ever stopped me from putting you on my bike? I distinctly remember senior year homecoming when you refused to let me pick you up in anything but my bike,” he said with a chuckle.
“Yeah,” you start, “But that..that was different. This is a funeral.”
“No this WAS a funeral. Now it’s a celebration of life. A dress wouldn’t have held your mom back from climbing on the back of your dad’s bike. Funeral or not. It’s not about to stop you. Plus we’re going straight to your house so you can change. You won’t be comfortable in that dress during a cookout, I know you. Plus I think your mother liked you better in tie dye,” Bradley says with a grin as he got onto his bike.
You furrowed your brows, “But that shirt’s dirty. I wore it two days ago.”
Bradley looked at you incredulously as he once again held his hand out to you, “You really don’t think my mother found it on my bedroom floor and washed it for you?”
You grumbled as you took his hand and climbed on behind him.
He chuckled, “Probably brought back fond memories for her.”
“Bradley!” you yelled as he laughed and fired up his bike.
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!kazansky!reader (affectionately often called “Baby Ice”)
This is love I just can’t live without masterlist
Top Gun biker!au
Chapter summary: You can't believe you ever left her behind
Chapter trigger warnings: none I don't think?
Ch. 11 “It’s worse when I’m alone”
The next day and a half was spent wrapped up in the safety of Carole Bradshaw. She didn’t want to let you out of her sight in case you left without notice again.
Neither of you spoke about what had happened between you and her son either before or now. It was just simply not brought up in any way shape or form. In fact Bradley didn’t spend much time at his childhood home after he dropped you off, Carole shooed him out of the house while you were crying on her shoulder and told him to make himself scarce. He didn’t put up a fight, knowing not to go against his mother’s request. You didn’t see him again until that evening. In the afternoon while helping her prepare dinner, Carole informed you that Bradley and your father were coming over soon to have a proper family dinner. When you were kids weekly family dinners happened once a week either at your house or Bradley’s, depending on who’s week it was. Oftentimes your uncles were also in attendance when you were younger but that wasn’t the case for your first family dinner in five years.
To say the evening was awkward would have been an understatement. Carole tried to get everyone to talk together while your father just grunted responses. Bradley answering his mother was hit or miss and a couple times when she was waiting for an answer from him you had to kick him to get his attention for her.
Family dinner didn’t last too long after the actual dinner was done. Your father refused to let Carole or you do the dishes since you both cooked so he made Bradley help him while you sat in the living room with Carole. After the dishes were clean your father said he needed to be up early to open the shop so with a kiss to your forehead on his way out the door he informed Bradley he would also be opening the shop so he’d better be there on time. Bradley had never been a morning person so he wanted to get to bed as soon as possible and tried to walk to his bedroom but Carole was having none of that.
“But mom, it's MY room!”
Carole rolled her eyes, “And you have another place to stay so march it, kiddo!"
Bradley huffed, “It’s not like we couldn’t share a bed. Wouldn’t be the first time. She slept in my bed last night..."
“Bradley, I love you now leave,” Carole said with a sigh as she pointed at the door.
Bradley grumbled as he bent down to kiss his mother on the cheek then walked to you and did the same on his way out the door.
The rest of the evening was spent watching terrible reality tv shows with Carole, as those were her favorite, eating so many snacks with her that when Carole finally let you go to bed, your stomach hurt a little bit.
Sleeping in Bradley’s bed for the second night in a row had been a little surreal to you. You don't even know how many times you've slept in this exact spot before. That's without mentioning all the other times you've been in this bed. With Carole being a single mother and working long hours, Bradley and you had a lot more freedom at his house than at yours. Not that you didn't think your mother was oblivious to what was going on at the Bradshaw household when Carole wasn't home. Your mother always seemed to have an answer for every time your father questioned what you were doing over there without Carole being home.
"Tom, they have a math test tomorrow. Leave them alone."
"Thomas, how could you forget that they have a science project due on Friday?"
"If you don't leave the children alone, I swear to God, Thomas. It's like you don't remember being their age."
Bradley's smell surrounded you as you laid in the bed, especially since you grabbed one of his shirts out of the closet to sleep in. Sure you could have ran home and grabbed something but it was easier to just borrow something of Bradley's. It definitely wasn't because wearing his shirt made you feel calmer, safer even. Definitely not because of that. You'd also definitely never admit that once again sleeping in Bradley's bed ended up being the second best night of sleep you've gotten in quite some time.
The following morning Carole dragged both you and Natasha out to brunch then a nail appointment informing the two of you that it was necessary for all of your mental health. The three of you knew what the next day was bringing and nobody wanted to mention it, almost like speaking it out loud would ruin the bubble you had surrounded yourself in because maybe, just maybe, if you didn't talk about your mother's funeral it wouldn't happen at all.
Part of the Spitfire Universe. Can be read as a stand-alone but best enjoyed if you have some background.
Summary: Unca Wooster is having such a great day, especially since his favorite nephew is having an extended sleepover at his house. His girlfriend is even calling him in the middle of the day which she hardly ever does! Such a great day…… oh no.
Bradley was having such a great day.
He made pancakes for breakfast.
He got Eli to school on time.
He got to see his girlfriend for a minute or two at drop off.
He made it to work on time.
He got to fly.
Just such a great day. He’s been loving all of the extra Unca Wooster time he’s been getting in. Jake and his wife wanted to go away for an extended weekend for their anniversary and Bradley was first in line to watch his favorite nephew. He might have thrown some elbows to beat out Coyote but nobody needs to know that. (He’s not sorry)
Penny, Mav, and Amelia have Ellie for the weekend. Mav made sure to pull Bradley aside and let him know that if he needed help with Eli to just let them know.
Pshaw! Why would he need help with Eli? He’s the best kid ever! Bradley still wonders how Hangman could have made such a great kid. Must have been all his wife’s genes because he definitely doesn’t see Jake in the kiddo at all.
Bradley was on his lunch break when he noticed his phone vibrating in his pocket.
A surprise call from his girlfriend! See?! Best day ever!
“Hey baby, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He says as he answers his phone.
“Bradley, what the f word did you do?!?!” His girlfriend scream-whispers to him on the phone.
Huh. He wasn’t expecting that at all. What could he have done? He’s been having the best day ever so clearly it had to be nothing.
“Ummmmmm nothing? What are you talking about? What’s wrong, honey?”
He hears you sigh, “What did you watch last night with Eli?” He can hear some sort of commotion where you are but can’t quite make heads or tails of it. Probably in your classroom, which you shouldn’t be, you should be on your lunch break right now.
Bradley thinks back, they watched a lot of stuff, “Umm Paw Patrol, we watched some Bluey, threw in some Wild Kratts for educational purposes, and then I think Jaws was on when he was falling asleep. I put him to bed once it was over.”
“You let a baby watch Jaws?!?!” You scream-whisper at him again.
“Hey! He’s not a baby! He’s a big boy. He barely watched it. He fell asleep after like 20 minutes.”
“I’m gonna beat your a word. I really am. Is Phoenix there? Let me talk to her.”
“Why the violence, honey? I’m sure he’s fine,” Bradley assumes.
“Oh my sweet naive and dumb boyfriend. You think he’s okay? That’s cute. That’s really cute. Super cute. He’s definitely not clinging to me right now sobbing and telling me he’s never going in the ocean again because he’s going to get ‘eated by the scary gray shark in the water.’ and he definitely isn’t refusing to lay down because what if a shark gets him in his sleep,” you say exasperatedly.
Ohh. Fuck. Shit.
“I shouldn’t have let him watch Jaws,” Bradley said as he hung his head.
“Ya think?! Oh my God. I can’t believe you let him watch that. You’re never getting him to sleep tonight. It was a miracle the rest of the class went down for naps because when one overtired kid cries then they all cry. And they were all asking me why Eli won’t go in the ocean anymore and why sharks are scary.”
Bradley winces. Maybe he could wear him out a little when he picks him up. Let him play for hours at the playground.
He hears his girlfriend sigh then hears a kissing noise that he assumes went onto his nephew’s head. Poor little guy.
“Before you even ask I already told him I would come over and help protect him. He’s clung to me all morning and if his parents aren’t home and it’s just you then he clearly needs a responsible adult.”
“Hey now, I’m a responsible adult,” Bradley grumbles.
“But are you? Because you let him watch Jaws and I don’t think you’re allowed to be in charge of the tv anymore,” you say. He can hear you mumbling something to Eli.
“That’s….. fair. That’s a fair choice. You are in charge of the tv.”
“Okay I gotta go. I’ll see you in a bit. I’m gonna google some shark week stuff that shows sharks NOT eating people to help this little boy out.”
“Okay I’ll see you in a bit. Bye honey. Tell Eli I love him and that I would never let anything happen to him,” Bradley said with a sigh.
“You got it. Bye Bradley,” you say before the call disconnects.
Bradley runs a hand down his face.
“Why so glum?” A voice asks, walking up from behind him.
“I did something stupid,” Bradley explains while he turns to look at Phoenix.
Phoenix laughs, “What else is new? So what’d you do?”
“I traumatized Eli.”
Phoenix smacks Bradley’s arm, “Why the hell would you do that?! That poor sweet boy!”
Bradley pulls his arm closer to him then rubs it, “Ow! Don’t hit me!”
Phoenix leers at Bradley, “Don’t do stupid things. What. Did. You. Do?”
Bradley sighs, “I let Eli watch a little bit of Jaws last night and now he’s terrified of the ocean and won’t nap because he’s scared a shark is going to get him in his sleep. Don’t worry, I already got yelled at over it.”
Phoenix gasps, “You should lose custody. Like immediately. No more Eli for you.”
“My girlfriend said she’s coming over tonight because Eli needs a responsible adult,” Bradley explains.
Phoenix laughs, “Only you would get yelled at and then essentially grounded by your girlfriend.”
“Jake’s wife grounds us all, all the time.”
Phoenix shakes her head and points at Bradley, “No, she grounds you all. She’s never grounded me. I don’t do stupid stuff like this.”
Bradley grumbles.
“Well let me know if your girlfriend can’t stay the whole weekend and Eli needs a different responsible adult. I’m happy to help,” Phoenix smirks at Bradley.
“I got him. I won’t do something like this again. Promise.”
“Suuuuuure ya do,” Phoenix says as she shakes her head at Bradley.
When Bradley went to pick Eli up that afternoon Eli raced into Bradley’s arms, scrambling to get picked up.
“Woah buddy! Slow down! I got ya,” Bradley says as he scoops Eli up to gently set him on his hip.
“I can’t be down, Unca Wooster, I can’t!” Eli said as he hid his face against Bradley’s chest.
It was then that it hit Bradley just how bad he messed up. Poor kiddo. He felt so bad.
He watched as you walked over to the two of them holding Eli’s backpack, “He can’t be down, Unca Wooster, he can’t.” You shook your head as you handed Bradley Eli’s backpack.
Bradley holds Eli close as he leans to speak to you, “I’m gonna fix this.”
You shake your head, “No, I AM going to fix this. Don’t worry. I got a plan. You’re taking us to the aquarium tomorrow by the way. I’ll see you in a bit.” You wink at Bradley as you walk back towards the rest of your students.
Bradley sure hopes you have a plan because he sure as hell doesn’t.
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!kazansky!reader (affectionately often called “Baby Ice”)
This is love I just can’t live without masterlist
Top Gun biker!au
Chapter summary: Sometimes memories can make you feel better and sometimes they make you feel guilty
Slight overlap with the new Jake story Take Me With You
Chapter trigger warnings: none I don't think?
Ch. 10 “It’s tearing me apart” Baby Ice
You watch as Bradley’s eyes rake over your hip seeking out his initials. You can tell the second his eyes find what they’re looking for as his face softens a bit, almost in a relieved way. Had he expected you to cover it up or get rid of it? He takes a step closer, placing a hand softly on your hip and brushes his thumb over the letters. His forehead drops to yours and you close your eyes as you both take in the moment.
You both know what this means. In the eyes of the club you still belong to Bradley. He marked you and as long as those letters are on your hip you were his. The thought of covering them had popped up a few times over the past couple of years but every time you thought too hard about it you ended up in your bed sobbing at the thought of losing that piece of Bradley. His initials felt like the one thing you had left of him after you
It was your first tattoo and just like Bradley, the day you turned 18 you were at the tattoo shop bright and early, dragging a half asleep Bradley with you. Waking up before noon was hard on him during the weekend. You made him hold your hand the entire time even though it didn’t take long for the artist to trace Bradley’s “BNB”, written in Bradley’s handwriting of course to match his own tattoo. Bradley had even drawn a heart for you so your tattoos matched. That was the day you found out Bradley can’t draw hearts. The one tattooed on your body looks more like a lung than a heart but you loved it regardless because Bradley drew it for you.
Your parents weren’t thrilled when they found out Bradley officially claimed you but it wasn’t like they hadn’t been expecting this for years, they just wished you had both given them a heads up. Carole however had been over the moon when you both told her. She had burst into tears hugging the both of you while babbling about grandchildren. As soon as she calmed down you both let her know that grandchildren weren’t happening for a while, a looooong while.
You feel Bradley shift then pull his forehead apart from yours gently, “We got some stuff to do today.”
You stare at him confused before asking, “What kind of stuff?”
Bradley shrugs, “You’ll see.”
You looked at him wearily as he grinned and kissed your forehead then walked back to his chest of drawers and grabbed a clean shirt out before pulling it over his head.
You scowl and wipe his kiss off with your hand making Bradley laugh and blow you a kiss. You narrow your eyes at him.
He just shrugs, “I threw a shirt at you earlier. It’s yours. Found it in my room after you left. Kept it hoping I’d have the chance to give it back.”
You grab the shirt off the bed where it fell and hold it up and a soft smile finds its way to your face. You remember this shirt. It’s a Top Gun MC shirt that you tie dyed one summer with Nat and your mom. You tie dyed them in the backyard and then after you tie dyed each of you a shirt, there was still left over dye, so your mom ran into the house and grabbed a set of sheets and you tie dyed those, too. Your dad was not as amused at his bed having tie dyed sheets as your mom and you were but he knew not to question your mom. You hold the shirt tightly against your chest as your eyes water.
“Thank you,” you say softly. “I thought I lost this. Thank you for keeping it safe for me.”
Bradley nods at you and turns his back to you so you could quickly change into the clean shirt and out of your crop top from the night before. You smoothed your hands down your sides over the shirt. Just having the shirt on soothed you in a way you didn’t even know you needed. It gave you a feeling of being close to your mom again that you desperately needed.
“You good?” Bradley asks.
You nod as you continue to smooth down your shirt. It takes you a couple seconds to remember that Bradley wasn’t facing you to see you nod, “Yeah, yeah I’m all good. You can turn around.”
Bradley turns around, a smile on his face, then holds his hand out for you to take, “Let’s go!”
You roll your eyes and walk out of his room with Bradley close on your heels.
You head down the stairs and look around at the mess from the party the night before. A few prospects were walking around collecting trash with a black trash bag each in their hands. You offer them a polite smile as you pass on your way to the door.
“Hold up a second,” Bradley says walking over to one of the couches.
You turned around and then followed him over to the couch. When you passed the first time you didn't even notice Jake on the couch.
As you stop at the back of the couch with Bradley he leans down to your ear, “I had to wake him up yesterday because he was making all sorts of noises and thrashing around in his bed.”
“What’s that about?” you asked.
Bradley shrugged, “I’m not sure. He wouldn’t say. Said he never dreams.”
You look at him oddly, “But everybody dreams.”
Bradley shrugged again, “I’m just telling you what he told me. I said the same thing but he said he…”
Bradley gets interrupted as Jake starts to whimper. You both stare down at him a moment before he starts shaking his head.
“Should we wake him up?” you ask Bradley.
“I’m not sure,” he says back.
“No, no, no, no, stay with me. Don’t go. Please…..please….please,” Jake whines in his sleep.
You decide to make the executive decision to wake him up. You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but before you touch him he shoots up into a sitting position breathing heavily.
You yelp and pull your hand back while Bradley grabs your shoulders to pull you away from Jake.
“What…what happened?” Jake asks while panting.
“You were whimpering and shaking your head in your sleep. Then you started to talk,” you explain as you take a step back towards Jake.
Jake groans and wipes a hand down his face, “Any clue what I was sayin’?”
Bradley nodded, “You were saying no and please a lot. You also said ‘stay with me’ and ‘don’t go’ , nothing else I don’t think.”
You shook your head agreeing with Bradley that there was nothing else.
Jake takes a deep breath, “Okay, cool. Thanks. Soooooo what’s up with all this?” He points to the two of you.
“We’re heading out. Got some stuff to do,” Bradley says as he waves and grabs your hand to pull you with him towards the door.
“Have fun!” Jake calls from behind you both then chuckles.
You roll your eyes and follow after Bradley as he leads you to his bike. He gets on quickly before holding his hand up to help you on. You use it to climb on behind him then wrap your arms around him after you settle.
He pats your arms before turning the key for the bike and releasing the kickstand. You’re both soon on your way. You lean your head against Bradley’s back. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this, it feels so easy to fall back into everything you and Bradley used to do together. You missed him, you missed this. You used to love riding on the back of Bradley’s bike, it seems you still did.
You didn’t pay close enough attention to where Bradley was taking you, maybe you should have, but soon he was pulling into a very familiar drive. You remember drawing with chalk on the concrete of this driveway. The oil stain from the first time Bradley tried to change the Bronco’s oil is still there off to the side. You remember laughing at him as it spilled out over the oil container that Bradley forgot to open the plug of. You remember your dad strolling his way over after hearing Bradley shouting and laughing along with you as he quickly started to help, telling him he would have come over to help, which just made Bradley grumble about wanting to do it himself.
Bradley stopped the bike next to the Bronco and helped you off before getting off himself, “You knew this was coming.”
You shrug, “I know. I didn’t want to. I still feel bad. Cutting you out of my life meant cutting her out too and that was probably the worst decision I made.”
Bradley nodded, “I think she was more heartbroken than I was.”
You worried your bottom lip as you followed Bradley into the house.
As soon as the two of you were completely in the living room Bradley started yelling for his mother.
“Ma! Hey ma! Got someone here to see you,” Bradley called out.
“Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw! How many times have I told you to stop hollerin’ in the hou…..” Carole trails off as she enters the living room with a hand towel clutched in her hands. “In the hou…” she starts again before she trails off again leaving her mouth open in shock while dropping the towel onto the floor. She stares at you for a moment as you stare back at her.
“Mama…” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
That seems to break her out of her trance as she takes a few apprehensive steps towards you until she’s right in front of you.
“Oh sugar, look at you. You’re all grown up,” Carole says as she reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, you can see her eyes start to water. “I recall tellin’ you that you weren’t allowed to do that but goodness, pretty girl, we were all wonderin’ who you’d take after and there’s no question about it.”
You smile at her as your eyes mist over.
“Well c’mere, sugar,” Carole before pulling you into her arms.
The flood gates open and you’re sobbing by the time you’re completely encased in Carole’s arms, she coos at you rocking you both side to side gently.
You needed this. A mom hug. There’s nothing like it in the world.
“Let it out, baby, let it all out. I gotcha, don’t you worry, your mama’s gotcha,” Carole murmurs into your hair, holding you as tight as can be. “Everything's gonna be okay."
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!Kazansky!reader (affectionately often called “Baby Ice”)
“This is love I just can’t live without” masterlist
Top Gun Biker!au
Chapter summary: You wake up and this is not your bed. What the hell?
Chapter trigger warnings: heart attack mention, parental death mentioned, swearing
Ch 9 “The sharper the teeth” Baby Ice
You snuggle further into the pillow you have clutched to your chest. You don’t feel like getting up. You’re too comfortable. So warm. Cozy. It even smells good. Smells like……
Your eyes shoot open and you pop your head up to take in your surroundings.
This isn’t your house.
This isn’t your room.
This isn’t your bed.
It’s too messy to be your bed. Blankets thrown haphazardly on the mattress. You’re surprised there’s at least a fitted sheet on the mattress. A half attempt at making the bed.
A soft snore off to the side pulls your attention away from the bedding and you lay your head back down.
In quite possibly the most uncomfortable position imaginable, there Bradley is half sitting/half lying in a chair pulled up next to the bed. A flannel shirt is pulled up to his neck laying on top of him like a blanket. Of course he’d refuse to take one of the many blankets off of the bed. Self sacrificing butthead. It’s not like you need ….one ….two …three …four ….five blankets?! Really?! Who needs that many on their bed?
Maybe Bradley’s girlfriend gets cold at night. What was her name again? Misty? Mixie? Something like that. Golly was she a wreck. Thinking she belonged here. In this club. Over you. You were practically born here. Club royalty. You huff and roll your eyes. What a bitch.
Speaking of bitch, has Misty ridden bitch on Bradley’s bike? She better not have. That’s your seat. Technically. Not that you want it. But if you did. That’s yours. You even helped Bradley pick his bike out. And by help you mean you just sat on the back of all the ones he looked at and decided whether it was comfortable or not. You must have sat on 15 bikes until Bradley settled on the one he already had at home.
He thought it would be too hard to ride Goose’s bike. Too painful to ride. Not when his father should be the one riding it still. But someone had to carry on his legacy.
You were surprised that Bradley even remembered Goose being on the bike. You were both so little when he passed away but you guessed Bradley’s memory of his father was probably better than yours. You don’t remember a lot about Goose but both Bradley and you were told endless stories about the man. You knew the important things about Goose of course: how funny he was, how he was always singing along to the radio while he worked in the garage, how much he loved being a father and husband, and of course how much he loved riding with the club. He was a founding member just like your dad. He always stayed positive and level headed which was helpful since a lot of the other guys were known to fly off the handle. Everyone was devastated when he passed away unexpectedly due to a heart attack.
After he passed, Goose became the club’s guardian angel of sorts. You remember so many times throughout your childhood hearing one member or another whispering, “Talk to me, Goose” to themselves if they were having an issue. Heck you yourself have said it a few times without realizing it.
There were tons of pictures of Goose all around the Bradshaw household. Heck there were plenty at the clubhouse and your house too. You even have a couple at your apartment.
Seeing Bradley now you can definitely see his resemblance to Goose and even some of Carole. Bradley’s hair is darker than Goose’s and Carole’s. Bradley seems to have taken on the Goose mustache. His eyes have always matched his father’s.
Wait. His eyes weren’t open a second ago…
“Good morning,” Bradley says to you, his voice rough with sleep. He yawns and stretches his body out. Has to be sore from sleeping all scrunched up in that chair.
“Morning,” you say back as you continue to watch him as you sit up on the bed.
Bradley smiles at you, “How’d you sleep?”
You shrug your shoulders, “Good I guess.” And by good you mean better than you have since you got back in town. Bradley doesn’t have to know that though. “How did you sleep? You looked uncomfortable.”
He chuckles, “Surprisingly, that was the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”
Huh. You weren’t expecting that. Maybe Misty is a bed hog or something and that keeps him up. She looked like a bed hog. Or maybe just a hog. You giggle at your thoughts.
“What?”
You wave a hand at him, “Oh, nothing, nothing. Was just thinking about something funny but it was mean so I shouldn’t say it out loud.”
“About me?”
You shake your head, “No, not about you. Someone else. It was nothing. Really. I promise.”
He looks at you like he doesn’t believe you, “Okay, I guess.”
“Soooooo what am I doing here?” You ask. “This is clearly not my house.”
Bradley laughs, “No, it’s not. It’s the clubhouse.”
“I know that. I’m not stupid, Bradley Nicholas.”
“Hey, hey!” Bradley says while holding his hands up. “No need to drop the middle name. I know you’re not stupid. I’m sorry if you thought I was insinuating that. I would never. Hell, you’ve always been smarter than me. Especially now, you got a fancy college degree.”
“It’s just a bachelor’s. It’s nothing special,” you say with a shrug.
Bradley smiles and winks at you, “Pretty damn special. You worked hard for that, I’m sure of it. Got more than I got. I just got a certificate from the community college in town. You dad made me. Said he wouldn’t let me work in the garage without it as if I didn’t grow up in that garage but I guess he wanted to give some reassurance to customers.”
“Makes sense. But what doesn’t make sense is what I’m doing here.”
“You fell asleep in my arms after you cried. Remember me carrying you into the kitchen after your brawl with Missy?” He shoots you a disapproving look you’re sure over you fighting with his girlfriend.
Which you promptly ignore, “Missy! That’s what her name was. I thought your girlfriend’s name was Misty. Or something like that.”
Bradley scrunches his face in disgust, “Girlfriend? The hell? Is that what she told you? She is not my girlfriend.”
“You should probably tell her that,” you say with a small laugh at his face.
Well that answers whether she sits in your seat on the back of his bike. In your seat. Well. Technically your seat. But you don’t want it. Right?
Bradley sighs and wipes a hand down his face, “I’ve tried. She doesn’t listen. I don’t know what to do.”
“Get an actual girlfriend then hopefully she’ll back off.”
Bradley grins at you, “You offering?”
“No,” you say quickly. “You wish.”
“I do wish,” Bradley replies. You can hear the sincerity in his voice but you can’t. Not again. You can’t put yourself through that again. Especially not now.
“Anyways, so I fell asleep here and nobody took me home?” You asked, changing the subject.
“Your dad drove his bike home and I’m pretty sure Natasha is still here with Coyote.”
“You couldn’t have taken me home?”
“And had you fall off the back of my bike because you were asleep? No. Not doing that,” he said as he stood up and stretched.
“The Bronco isn’t here?” you asked. Besides his bike Bradley’s vintage Bronco was his pride and joy. You didn’t think he wouldn’t keep it at the clubhouse if that’s where he’s living now.
Bradley shook his head as he walked over to a chest of drawers against a wall, “Naw, it’s at the house. Ma uses it every once in a while.” He turns and winks at you, “Ya know, when she wants to be cool.”
You roll your eyes, “Uh huh. Cool. That’s the word for it. Okay so why not just put me in an empty room?”
“You know why,” he says as he opens a drawer and pulls something out.
You cross your arms over your chest, “No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”
Bradley rolls his eyes, “Why don’t you take a guess, honey.”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
Bradley walks back over to the bed and squats down so you’re eye to eye with each other, “Because you’re mine and I don’t trust any of those other fucks out there. Your father went home but even if he didn’t you’ve been mine since you were born so the call was mine to make. I wanted you here. In my bed. So that’s where I put you.”
“I’m not a thing, Bradley. I’m a person. You can’t own me,” you huff at him.
“Doesn’t make you any less mine. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been. Doesn’t matter how far away you were. Regardless, I still got mine. You got yours?” He tosses an article of clothing at you then stands all the way up before using one hand to grab the back of his shirt and pulls it off over his head. He looks at you pointedly to make sure you check.
And you do. Your eyes go straight to the left side of his chest, directly over his heart, where your initials sit. Still. You remember the day he got the tattoo. His 18th birthday. You went with him and wrote them out with a heart next to them and not 20 minutes later Bradley had them tattooed on him for forever more. Heart and all.
You quietly push the blankets off you and stand up slowly. You unbutton your jeans and push them down until the middle of your hip bones show. And with them, Bradley’s initials.
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x if!Kazansky!reader (affectionately often called “Baby Ice”)
“This is love I just can’t live without” masterlist
Top Gun Biker!au
Chapter summary: Some things you just don't outgrow.
Chapter trigger warnings: Vague threats
Ch. 8 "The softer the skin" Bradley
Bradley felt himself take a deep breath when his girl’s breath evened out. He’s always hated when she cries. God, he wanted to punch something. Anything. He’s never been able to keep himself in check when she’s upset. Even as a child.
He remembers being five years old and trying to kick and punch Ice because he made his daughter cry after telling her she couldn’t have ice cream. His little five year old self lost it when he saw the tears streaming down her face. It didn’t matter that it was before dinner and he knew she couldn’t have ice cream yet, Ice made her cry so Ice had to pay! Of course Ice just picked his little body up but while wrestling to get Bradley in his arms Bradley was able to get one good kick into his balls causing Ice to double over and almost drop him. He quickly recovered and Bradley had to go in time out for a while. It wasn’t so bad though, especially since his girl brought over a chair and sat in the corner with him. They both had worn their little bodies out and Ice found them slumped against each other, asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. It’s how many of their punishments went as children. Not often did one get in trouble without the other but if it did happen the other would be right there in time out too so the other wasn’t lonely.
They couldn’t be kept apart for long. They refused. Bradley can’t count how many times he was woken up by Ice or his wife wondering why Bradley was asleep on their daughter’s floor. Usually he had just missed her in the night so he would climb through her window and sleep on the floor holding her hand. It started when they went to kindergarten. Bradley only lived down the street and it was a pretty quick bike ride to the house. Begrudgingly, Ice ended up buying his daughter a new bed with a trundle underneath so Bradley had somewhere to sleep on nights he snuck in. Carole never worried where Bradley was at night, it’s not like he could get very far without one of the members of Top Gun being alerted, they were always riding around and keeping an eye on things. Plus, Carole knew he would never leave his girl. After the first two times it happened Carole stopped calling over to Ice’s house to check that her son was there, she knew where he was. She just brought clean clothes for him in the morning when she picked the two up to drop them off at school before heading to work.
For the last five years, Bradley’s had trouble sleeping. He had gotten too used to sleeping next to his girl. Almost every night he jolts awake when his hand reaches for her in his sleep. When she first left town he’d drink until he passed out, just to get to sleep longer than two hours, until he realized that getting drunk was exactly what got him into this mess and he stopped. He’s the only one of his friends who doesn't get drunk and party all the time. He’ll have a drink or two but he doesn’t get drunk anymore, just doesn’t want to be the weird guy in the club that doesn’t drink so he has a couple. He didn’t drink much before she left either which he’s still a bit confused about. Why would he have gotten so drunk on a day he needed to pick his girl up? That wasn’t like him. His mother raised him better than that. Even nights when she wanted to go to parties with their friends, he was always sure to keep his wits about him to make sure she was okay. He knew what was expected of him. He knew if anything happened to her it would be his fault. He’d been told many, many, many times. Can’t date the pres’ daughter and not know the expectations. The ones he was told over and over and over again growing up. Even tonight there’s no way he would have drank more than two beers. He still knows that his girl’s safety is his responsibility regardless of her uncles and father being here. He claimed her. She’s his whether she still thinks so or not. It doesn’t even matter to him if she covered his initials up with some other tattoo, her name is tattooed across his heart for forever more.
Bradley felt stirring against his chest and looked down, “You good, honey?”
She shakes her head so Bradley just holds her tighter and gently rocks the two of them from side to side.
Not even five minutes later Bradley feels her body slump against him, just like when they were little it clearly still takes it out of her to cry and get all upset. Bradley chuckles to himself as he runs his hands down her back and takes a step closer to her. He bends down a bit and reaches under her to lift her up into his arms as if she’s a child and stands back up to his full height. He can’t help but grin as he feels her wrap her arms around his neck and nuzzle her face into the area below his chin. He walks gently out of the kitchen and along the wall trying to avoid the party that was still going strong. He gently climbs the stairs hoping not to jostle her too much. Once he gets to his door, it takes a few tries but he’s able to open the door while still holding on to her tightly. He lays her down in his bed which she quickly snuggles up in, grabbing one of his pillows and holding it like a stuffed animal while murmuring to herself in her sleep. Bradley smiles and leans down to brush the hair from her face then kisses her forehead. He heads out of his room but takes one last look at her before shutting the door behind himself. That’s where she should be. Every night. Wrapped up in his blankets. Holding onto his pillows. Making his whole bed smell like her.
He heads downstairs.
“Bradshaw!”
Bradley looks in the direction the shout came from and sees Natasha. He sighs then heads over towards her.
“If you do anything…” she starts but he holds his hands up to stop her.
“I know, I know. I wouldn’t. I promise you. Cross my heart and hope to die,” He says, rolling his eyes.
Natasha scowls at him, “Oh I’ll make you wish for death if you do anything. Remember that.” She walks past him and makes sure to bump her shoulder against him as she passes. Must be taking lessons from Slider.
Bradley shakes his head. The last thing he wants to do is hurt his girl again. He still doesn’t know exactly what happened the time he did hurt his girl but he wishes he did so it never happens again. Not drinking is definitely a good start. Gotta think about his next step to keeping her here forever.
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x if!Kazansky!reader (affectionately often called “Baby Ice”)
“This is love I just can’t live without” masterlist
Biker!au
Chapter summary: Bradley’s tastes have clearly gone downhill…
Chapter trigger warnings: cat fight. Swearing. Sexual relations mentioned.
Chapter 7 “Howl at the moon” Baby Ice
“You know he doesn’t want you here right?” a voice you don’t recognize says as a girl approaches your general area with her arms crossed.
You’re just patiently waiting to get one of the prospect’s attention to get a drink. She can’t be talking to you. You have no idea who she is. Definitely not a face you recognize. You don’t turn towards her assuming whoever she’s actually talking to will acknowledge her.
“I’m talking to you, bitch,” she says taking a step closer to you to get further into your personal bubble.
“I’m sorry, are you talking to me?” you ask, genuinely confused. Who the hell is this girl? Did you go to high school with her? You don’t remember her face. Maybe she was in a grade or two below you. Or someone’s sibling maybe?
“Of course I am. You see anyone else here that doesn’t belong?” she asks while raising an eyebrow and looking at you with a disgusted look on her face.
“Who said I don’t belong?” you ask furrowing your own eyebrows. Seriously. Who the hell is this girl? Does she even know you? And if anyone doesn’t belong it’s probably her. Does she know this is a biker club and not a dance club? The amount of glittery highlight on her face begs to differ.
She scoffs and rolls her eyes then gestures to the entire room, “Everyone. Duh. Why do you have to try and come back here to ruin his life? You broke up with him. He doesn’t need to be reminded of how cruel you are!”
You stare at the girl like she didn’t just gesture to a room with not only your uncles in it but also your father. Who the fuck does this girl think she is? She clearly has zero idea who you are besides Bradley’s ex girlfriend. If she did she’d watch what she was saying but a part of you really wants to see how this plays out. You’ve been needing an outlet for some of this stress you’ve been dealing with. Maybe she’s your perfect outlet.
“Plus, Rooster has been doing great since you left. He’s my man now so you need to run back to whatever hole you crawled out of if you know what’s good for you,” she says matter of factly and sneers at you while popping her hip out to the side.
You see movement off to your side and notice Nat taking a few steps towards you but you quickly shake your head at her then briefly hold up a hand to stop her. You don’t need help. You got this.
“Rooster?” You ask and tilt your head to the side as if you’re confused. You know Bradley’s road name. You’re not dumb. Just because you weren’t around when he officially patched in doesn’t mean you hadn’t heard it thrown around. Add that to being the son of Goose and there’s really no question who ‘Rooster’ could be in the club.
The girl scoffs again, “Are you really that dumb? Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw. The guy you left behind. Ring any bells? I doubt Rooster would date you if you were actually that stupid but maybe I was just an upgrade.” She pops a shoulder up sassily.
Upgrade? Yeah right. Your lips quirk up into a closed mouth grin and you raise an eyebrow. Fights on, sweetheart.
“Ohhhhh Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw. Mhm yeah I know him. Who are you to him again?” you ask. You swear the girl is close to stamping her foot at you and throwing a temper tantrum. “I’ve never heard anyone from the club mention you before. Is this a new thing?”
She sneers at you again and huffs, “I’m Missy. His girlfriend, you idiot, and you better remember that because he’s mine and there’s nothing you can do about it. Got it?”
You chuckle, “Yeah I got it. Bradley’s yours.” You take a step closer to Missy, crowding into her space. “But since we’re on the subject of ‘things the other can do nothing about’ just wanted to let you know that I have quite a few of those myself. I’ll just go ahead and let you know what those are. I hold all of his firsts. First kiss. First make out session. First fuck. And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Not one thing. I was his first in everything so any time you two might do anything together you should really think to yourself ‘Is he comparing me to her?’ because I would put money down on the fact that he is. Comparing every single second of whatever mediocre sex you’re having with him to every time he and I fucked or made love. Anything he does in the bedroom is because he and I spent hours exploring everything together. Learning exactly how to drive the other crazy. So, why don’t you go ahead and remember that because there’s nothing you can do about it. All his firsts are mine whether you like it or not.”
“You’re such a bitch!” the girl says and brings her hand up to slap you, however, you anticipated it and grab her arm and twist it behind her back as you shove her chest against the bar. Missy winces and cries out.
You push your weight against her, “Don’t start something you can’t handle. You’ll lose every time.” You yank her off the bar and push her away from you. “Also I’m pretty sure you’re the one unwanted by the club.”
You watch the girl look around at everyone staring at her, “They’re only looking at us because you just admitted to being a whore and then assaulted me.”
You laugh, “Oh sweetheart, you really shouldn’t start something against the club president’s daughter. Also, if I wanted to assault you I’d do something like this...” You pull your fist back and punch her directly in the nose, the crunch upon impact undeniable. Poor thing is going to need a hospital trip now. “But technically that’s considered battery but who’s to say?”
Missy’s hands fly up protectively around her nose, “You psycho! You’ll pay for this!”
“Oh will I? I’m not the one bleeding all over,” you go to lunge at her, thinking you might as well take out the ‘threat’ now since she’s down already but two arms snake around your middle to stop you then lift you up as you start to yell and wiggle to get out of the strong arms holding you against a hard chest.
You watch as the girl scurries out of the clubhouse even as you continue to wiggle in the arms holding you, “Yeah, you better run!”
“What did I tell you about fighting, honey?” a deep voice says in your ear as you’re carried into the kitchen.
You huff. Of course he’s the one who pulled you from the fight. He’s always ruining your fun. Has been for five years. You mumble an answer as you’re set on the kitchen counter like a child.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you. Speak up, honey,” Bradley said as he grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and wrapped it in a clean, dry wash rag before walking back over to you, taking your throbbing hand in his carefully, and gently pressing the ice pack against your bruised knuckles.
You watch him closely but don’t reply. You wince when he sets the ice down on your tender hand. He looks older now. Definitely not the same boy you ran from five years ago. Lost the last bit of baby fat he had clinging on. He’s all sharp angles now. Strong. You notice the signature Bradshaw mustache gracing his top lip. Goose would be so happy to see it passed down.
Bradley shakes his head at you and tsks his tongue as if to scold you like you’re a child who just broke a rule, “You gonna answer my question?”
“No,” you mutter and turn your head away from him. You hate this. You hate how easily you could slip right back into how you used to act together. You hate how right this feels. The past five years without him have been some of the hardest of your life. You were so far away from your family. You were so far away from your girl best friend. And you were so far away from him. Your head is screaming at you to leave but your heart won’t let you. Being this close to him feels too much like home in a time where you need that feeling more than anything.
You don’t even notice the tears streaming down your face until calloused hands cup your face and brush the tears from your cheeks.
A sob leaves your mouth and you’re being pulled against that hard chest again immediately following it. Arms wrap around you to hold you steady. You bury your face against him and wrap your arms around his middle holding you tightly against him.
You feel his lips brushing against your hair in what you assume are supposed to be comforting words but you can’t seem to make out any words over the sound of your own sobbing.
