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His Life (Pietro Maximoff x Reader)

Request: Hello love, how are you doing? May I request something with Pietro where the reader is returning from a mission that lasted a couple of months and he is eagerly anticipating for the reader to return. And the day the reader is returning he sets up a romantic date for them and it’s all cute and fluff and just adorable and a lot of hugs and cuddles please!

Requested By: Anonymous

Word Count: 2, 331

Warnings: Slight Swearing, Fluff

A/N: Wow. This is my longest imagine yet, I think. All of my Pietro ones are super long, has anyone else noticed that? I guess I just get swept up in the idea of Pietro. Why can’t I have a Pietro in my life? That would be amazing. Anyways, this one won the vote, so here it is! FYI, ‘printesa’ means ‘princess,’ ‘draga’ means ‘darling,’ and (Y/F/S) means ‘your favorite show. If you would like to be added to my Tag List for all future updates, just let me know! Well, I hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @mp938368 @gcneral-organa @thatgirlsar @jumperswellies @quicksoldier @kitkatgaming @marvelfandom-stuff @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @agentraven007 @marvelgoateecollection

MASTERLIST

Pietro was nervous. Excited. Overjoyed. Practically bouncing off the walls with energy, more so than other days. He could feel his heart soaring. He felt like he had just won the lottery. Why, you may ask?

You were coming home.

You, his Printesa. His Draga. His Love. His Heart. His Life. And you were coming home.

Finally, you were coming home. Pietro had been waiting (somewhat patiently) for this day. The day where he can see you step off that quinjet. The day where he would run up to you, pick you up, and twirl you around as if you were lighter than a feather; because to Pietro, you were. The day where he could finally kiss you, after not being able to for the past four months. Those four, painstakingly agonizing months where he couldn’t feel your skin against his, couldn’t taste your lips, couldn’t smell your sweet scent. But today, today was the day where he could do all of it and more.

And he was beyond ready to have you in his arms once again, safe.

Unfortunately for Pietro, you wouldn’t be arriving until around dinner time. But since his nerves and excitement decided that he wasn’t going to get a good night’s sleep before you got home, they woke him up at six in the morning. A whole twelve hours before he could see you, his ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

Staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, Pietro’s mind was racing. This had to be the best welcome home anyone has ever received, that way you wouldn’t want to leave again. Shutting his eyes, Pietro tried to will his mind to shut off and let him get more sleep. Every time he was close to that blissful rest, he received a flash of your scent, or an image of your lips that he would soon be kissing in eleven hours and fifty-seven minutes; and he would start the vicious cycle all over again.

Sitting up, Pietro checked his phone to see if you had sent him any messages. Not a single one. She probably wants to make me wait, Pietro thought with a small smile. That little minx. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Pietro made his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Grabbing the clothes that he set out the night before, (All your favorites, of course. Especially the tight gray and blue shirt that you loved. He had made sure that they were all washed the day before, courtesy of his wonderful sister, Wanda) Pietro quickly showered and changed. Slipping on his tennis shoes, Pietro sped off to the kitchen where the rest of his teammates sat.

“Whoa,” Tony shouted after nearly being ran over by Pietro. “What’s got you excited, Speedy Gonzales?”

Smiling brightly as he grabbed the cereal box, he placed a kiss on his sister’s forehead. “(Y/N)’s coming home today!”

“Really?” Natasha said, looking up from over her phone. “Hadn’t noticed.”

“Yeah, not like you’ve been telling us every single day for the past month,” Clint grumbled, taking a bite of his cereal. “‘Only twenty-six days until (Y/N) is back!’” Clint said in a horrible Sokovian accent, obviously trying to imitate Pietro.

Eyes turning into slits, Pietro glared at him. “I do not sound like Dracula, old man.” Scooping up a spoonful of cereal, he shoved it into his mouth. “Besides, what’s wrong with me wanting to see my Printesa?”

“Nothing at all,” Vision replied, phasing through the kitchen wall, scaring Scott. “It is perfectly normal for a human to miss their partner and want to be with them.” On the word ‘partner’ Vision had moved next to Wanda, causing her to blush slightly.

Eyes turning into slits once more, Pietro sent daggers towards Vision. “Get away from my baby sister, Android.”

Scoffing, Wanda pushed away from the table. “I’m not your baby sister! We are only twelve minutes apart. And besides, I don’t complain about your relationship with my best friend.”

“(Y/N) isn’t red like a tomato and came from a computer program and a rock!”

“That’s besides the point, and I’m done arguing,” Wanda said, putting her foot down. “Now, do you need help planning her welcome home party?”

“Yes, please,” Pietro said, kissing his sister’s hand.

“Great!” Vision shouted, clasping his hands together. “I’ll help.”

This is going to be a long day, Pietro thought to himself, groaning at the thought of spending the day with Vision.

Placing the last touch on your welcome home party, Pietro stepped back and looked proudly at his work. Wanda and Vision had helped him put together his masterpiece, to which he was beyond thankful.

“She’ll love it,” Wanda breathed out, looking at all the hard work they put in.

“Oh yes,” Vision added, surveying the room. “Knowing (Y/N), there is at least an 85% chance that she will enjoy what you have set up.”

Eyes rolling at Vision’s statistics, Pietro opens the door. “Lets go wait for her. Only one hour left until she is home.” Nodding at his words, they all exited to await your arrival. Some more than others.

“Calm down, will you? You’re driving me insane,” Wanda scolded, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. The quinjet was landing in five minutes, and Pietro was so nervous that he kept tapping his foot. Because of his enhancement, his foot tapping was accelerated so much that his foot was a blur.

“Sorry,” Pietro mumbled, brushing his hand through his silver hair. Eyes trained on the sky, Pietro anxiously looked for the familiar shape of the quinjet. The wind on the roof constantly kept blowing his hair in his face, along with his sister’s long brown hair. Swatting away his hair, Pietro almost screamed when he saw the familiar black shape along the horizon.

“SHE’S HERE!” Pietro yelled, running towards the edge of the roof. As the black mass moved over his head, Pietro ran back to his sister’s side to wait for you to finally step off the platform, reuniting the two of you.

Landing gear deploying, Pietro’s accelerated foot tapping started up once again as the doors opened.

Stepping out of the jet, your eyes adjusted to the light. Looking down, you saw your best friend, Wanda, waiting for you with a smile. Immediately next to her was Pietro, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“(Y/N)!” He shouted, speeding up to you. Smiling brightly, you laughed as he scooped you up into his strong arms and began spinning you around.

Setting you down, you were met with Pietro’s smiling face and bright blue eyes. Tears welling up in your eyes, you placed your hand against his stubbly face. Oh, how you missed that stubble.

“I missed you,” You croaked out, voice laden with tears.

“As did I,” Pietro whispered, pulling you even closer to him. “Four months was way too long.”

Chuckling slightly, you ran your fingers through his thick hair. “Yes. Yes it was.”

Forehead resting against yours, Pietro leaned in slightly, brushing his lips against yours gently, igniting a fire inside of you. Impatient, because dammit, you’ve waited too long, you pulled your boyfriend to you, crashing your lips against his.

Smiling at the contact, Pietro pulled you close to his body by your hips, resting his large hands on your lower back.

“Get a room!” Clint yelled over the dying engine of the quinjet, joining the welcoming group along with the others. Releasing one hand from Pietro’s hair, you flipped off the whistling group, causing laughter to erupt among them. Feeling only one hand on your waist, you opened your eye just a tad bit to find Pietro’s hand right next to yours, flipping them off as well.

Pulling back from lack of oxygen, you turned towards your group of friends, all of which you missed dearly. Hand intertwining with Pietro’s, you walked down the ramp to be swarmed by your friends, each giving you a hug.

“Missed you, kid,” Tony said affectionately, pulling back from the hug.

“Missed you too,” You responded as you felt a tug on your hand. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Pietro motioning towards inside with a smile.

“Sorry, everyone,” You said with a small smile as Pietro pulled you into his side. “I promised I would spend time with him.”

“Aw, can’t you share?” Steve joked. “We missed her too.”

“No. Mine.” Pietro replied as he swung you up into his arms. Knowing what happened next, you placed your arms around his neck.

“Bye,” You said quickly to your friends, knowing that you would catch up with them later. Pietro then speeded into the compound, turning everything into a blur. Stopping abruptly outside of his bedroom, you looked at him suspiciously.

“Why here?” You asked as he set you down. Shrugging, Pietro took your hand once more as he opened the door. Walking in, you laughed as you felt Pietro cover your eyes. “Pietro…”

“Shh,” Pietro whispered, guiding you into the room. “Okay, Draga,” he said, removing his hands. “Surprise!”

Opening your eyes, your breath became caught in your throat at the sight before you. Pietro’s room was covered in candles, casting everything in a warm and comforting glow. On the bedside table were all of your favorite foods, waiting to be eaten. Next to his TV were all of your favorite movies and shows, some of which you only watched with him. What really made your heart stop though was that the room was covered in rose petals, filling it with a sweet scent. Sure, it was cheesy, but it was perfect to you. Because Pietro did it all.

“Pietro…” You breathed out in awe. Arms wrapping around your waist, Pietro hugged you from behind.

“Just wanted to treat you. Welcome home,” Pietro whispered in your ear as he placed a kiss on your neck. Turning in his arms, you smiled up at him as you laced your fingers through his thick locks once again.

“It’s perfect,” You replied as you pecked his lips. Pulling away slightly, he pulled you back to his lips, not quite done kissing you yet. Giggling as he continued to kiss you, your giggles turned into laughter as he kissed all over your face. “Pietro!”

“C'mon,” He said, halting his attack. “Let’s eat.” Dragging you onto his bed, you ate almost all of the food set before you, with the help of Pietro and his fast metabolism. Kicking off your shoes, you laid back onto his bed, completely relaxed.

“What are you doing?” He asked, Sokovian accent prevalent.

“Resting,” You answered, eyes closed.

“Oh no,” He said with a grin, pulling you up by your arms. Laughing, you sat up. “You’re going to spend time with me. I haven’t seen you in four months.”

“Can’t we do that after a nap?” You pleaded, giving your boyfriend the puppy dog eyes.

Shockingly, he resisted. “No. We are going to cuddle while we catch up on (Y/F/S). I haven’t been able to watch it for four months!”

Shaking your head whilst laughing, you look at your boyfriend. “You could’ve watched it without me.”

“It is our show. I couldn’t watch it without you,”

“You’re too sweet,” You blushed, pecking his cheek. “Set it up. I’m going to get into comfy clothes.”

Nodding at your orders, you got up from the bed and grabbed some of Pietro’s sweatpants and one of his shirts. Quickly changing into them, you jumped back onto the bed, with Pietro following suit.

Cuddling up to your boyfriend, you sigh in bliss as the familiar theme song began. Wrapped up in his arms, you smile as you feel him kiss your forehead.

I am never leaving him again, you thought as you breathed in his welcoming scent.

After three episodes, Pietro looked down at you. You had fallen asleep halfway through the second episode, but Pietro didn’t have the heart to wake you up. You looked too cute. Smiling, Pietro turned off the TV. Brushing away a strand of hair that fell into your face, Pietro pulled you closer to him.

“You are never leaving me again, Printesa,” Pietro whispered knowing that you couldn’t hear him. “That was way too hard. Every morning, I found myself walking towards your room to wake you up, since I was your personal alarm clock. But you weren’t there. Every morning I had to go through the realization that you weren’t here, with me. And every morning my heart broke. Because all I wanted to do was wish you good morning, to kiss you. In those four months I not only lost my girlfriend temporarily, I lost my best friend. I missed just talking to you, seeing you smile. I don’t think you realize just how much of a hold you have on me, Printesa,” Pietro smiled. “You are my life, my whole life. You are my love, my heart, my world. Do you realize that, Draga? Because you are. Without you, I am nothing. I love you so much. More than you ever know.”

Kissing your forehead once more, you stirred in your sleep. Freezing, Pietro waited to see if you had heard any part of his confession.

“…Pietro?” You mumbled, blearily blinking away sleep.

“I’m here, Draga,” Pietro whispered, brushing away your hair.

“Good. I missed you,” You sleepily muttered, already drifting back to sleep.

“I missed you too, Printesa. Now, sleep. I’ll be right here,”

“Good,” You replied, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my Life,” Pietro whispered, kissing your forehead one last time. Already feeling your breathing slowing down, Pietro smiled to himself as he too drifted off to sleep.

Those four months were hard, but you made it. The lives the two of you led were difficult, extremely difficult. But you could get through it, as long as you had the other. Because true love endured all.

Maybe Things Are Looking Up

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Shy!Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your friend sets you up on yet another blind date, much to your annoyance.

Warnings/tags: Soft Bradley, age gap (reader is in their 20s), mentions of autism, implied sensory issues, Bradley being an absolute sweetheart, one implication of sex (blink and you miss it), mention of crying, lots of fluff, a bit of angst, implied low self-esteem (I think?), super self-indulgent, mentions of throwing up, mention of injuries (nobody gets hurt), one mention of dieting

A/N: I feel like I'm having way too much fun writing for soft Bradley. (Sorry, the writing's probably kind of clunky.)

***************************************************

A knock on the door makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

He's here.

Your heart is pounding as you take one last look in the mirror. You can't say you're impressed with what you see, but at least you look presentable.

It's very difficult to not trip as you rush down the stairs, already regretting wearing heels. They're very uncomfortable, and your balance isn't the best, so you normally opt for flats, but you want to make a decent impression.

For a moment, you consider hiding, saying you're sick, allowing yourself to break your ankle on these ridiculous heels.

Anything but go on this date.

Why, oh, why did Callie have to set me up with one of her pilot friends? you wonder, as you fumble around for your keys. Why does she even feel the need to set me up at all? I've told her time and time again that I'm resigned to the fact that I will be single for most of my adult life.

It takes you much longer than normal to unlock the door, mainly because your hands are shaking so badly that you can barely get the key in.

But once the door's finally open, you stare in shock at the man before you.

After all, it's not every day you see a guy with an 80s mustache, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and aviator sunglasses at your front door.

He should look absolutely ridiculous.

But he doesn't. Quite the opposite, in fact. He's very, very attractive. Unfairly so, you think.

Especially considering you're suddenly acutely aware that the colour on your dress doesn't really suit you, and neither does the style. You knew it didn't suit you when you picked it out, but you just pulled it on anyway in an act of rebellion, mainly because you didn't want to make a good impression.

Something you're sorely regretting, especially because you now feel extremely unattractive.

"Hey," he says. "Y/N, right?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

He holds out a hand. "I'm Bradley."

Why's he holding his hand out? You take it anyway, forcing a smile.

"You ready?" Bradley asks.

You nod.

He's surprisingly courteous, letting you hold onto his arm as he walks you to his car, and helping you in before getting in the other side.

"So, any ideas where you'd like to go?" he asks.

Oh, no. Your chest clenches with fear, and you shake your head, hoping you're not doing it too vigorously.

"How about the restaurant near the bar?" he suggests. "I've never been there, but I heard it's a nice place."

You nod, desperately hoping that he won't get mad at you for not speaking.

The rest of the drive is silent.

After he's parked the car, he turns to you. "These doors are a little tricky when you're not used to them. I'll get yours for you."

"Okay," you whisper. It's the first thing you've said all evening.

Once Bradley's helped you out, and locked the car, he offers you his arm.

"The restaurant's usually a little busy this time of day," he explains. "Callie'd never forgive me if I lost you on our first date."

You just nod as you take his arm, feeling more and more shy by the minute. You can tell that Bradley's trying to put you at ease, but you've already worked yourself up so much that you don't even know if it's possible for you to calm down.

***************************************************

Fortunately, you're seated very quickly. You have a feeling that it might have something to do with Bradley being so familiar with the staff, but you brush it off. He's probably just a friendly person.

Still, you're not complaining about being off your feet. Those heels were definitely a mistake.

"Do you want a menu, Y/N?" asks Bradley.

You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, and then nod, your face burning.

"Here." His hand brushes yours as he hands you one.

You manage a small smile as you take it.

You're not very hopeful as you read down the menu. While they look nice, none of the main courses sounds like something you'd eat. Normally, if you were out with a friend or your family, and you ran into a situation like this, you'd order off the children's menu, but you're too scared to here, in case Bradley thinks you're weird, or makes fun of you for it.

"So, what are you thinking?" asks Bradley.

You look up, wishing your throat wouldn't clench so. Hoping he won't think you're rude, you show him what you're ordering. Fortunately, some of the sides look okay, so you've decided to order a couple of them in lieu of a main.

"You sure that's all you want?" he asks. "You don't want a main?"

You nod.

Bradley leans forward, lowering his voice. "You know, if there's nothing you like, we can just go to another restaurant."

You shake your head. Tears begin pricking at your eyes as you try to find the words to explain, almost wishing he'd just snap at you. For some reason, his kindness is making you feel much worse than if he got annoyed, or yelled at you.

It takes some time, but you manage to push past the barrier between your brain and vocal cords. "It's - it's not that I don't like anything, I just - I'd prefer to order off the children's menu. It's just - more familiar territory."

"Hey, that's okay," says Bradley gently. "Was that all you were worried about?"

Not exactly. But you nod anyway.

"I don't mind you ordering off the kids' menu, and I'm not gonna make fun of you for it, okay? I just want to make sure you have a good time."

You manage a small smile. "That's - very kind of you."

Bradley smiles. "It's nothing."

As the server comes over to take your order, your nerves suddenly increase tenfold. You've always hated having to speak to order, but you've never really felt comfortable typing an order out and just showing it to the server, either.

"Hi, can I take your order?"

You don't even hear Bradley tell the server his order, because you're trying to plan out what you're going to say - and try and stir up the courage to actually say it.

Then you feel a hand on your arm, and your face burns as you realise that you haven't even acknowledged the server, and have in fact been staring into space for some time.

"Do you want me to order for you?" Bradley's voice is very soft, whether to try and calm you, or to save you from any more embarrassment, you're not quite sure.

You nod, feeling horribly guilty at ignoring the server, but not really knowing what to say.

But you do apologise to Bradley once the server's gone. "Sorry. I didn't mean to - sorry…"

"It's okay." Bradley's voice is still very soft. "You're nervous, I get it. You don't have to be sorry."

"But I embarrassed you."

Bradley shakes his head. "You didn't. And even if you had, I promise you I've been in worse situations."

"Like what?" You regret the words the second they come out of your mouth. Don't ask him about embarrassing situations, you idiot!

But, judging by the grin on his face, Bradley doesn't seem to mind.

"Well, there was this one time at The Hard Deck…"

At first, you're not really listening, mostly because you're still trying to shake off your embarrassment, but you soon get drawn in to the story, and by the time Bradley finishes, you're feeling much more at ease.

"Okay, here are your meals."

You feel yet another stab of fear. What if I make a mess? What if the texture of the food makes me throw up everywhere?

But you manage a small smile as the server hands you your meal.

You're both silent as you eat, you because you're trying not to spill everywhere, and Bradley - well, you're not really sure. Maybe he's not the type to talk while eating.

But then why did he suggest a restaurant for our date?

Fortunately, Bradley seems to understand that you're nervous, and doesn't push you to speak too much. You do notice him glancing at you several times, and you feel guilty for not being more chatty, but it feels like there's a massive barrier between your brain and your vocal cords, one that you just can't face pushing through.

"How's your dinner?" he asks.

You look up. "It's good, I guess."

He raises his eyebrows. "You sure?"

You nod. "Um - how's yours?"

He smiles. "It's good. What're you thinking for dessert?"

Oh, no.

It's not that you don't like sweet things. Or that you're dieting. You just don't want to risk making yet another mess. You've already dropped some food onto the floor, and you only just managed to fight your gag reflex when you accidentally chewed a piece of food too long.

"Um, I'm kind of full."

"Yeah, me too. They're pretty generous with the portions here." He must have noticed that you're feeling uncomfortable, because he adds softly, "Do you want to leave?"

You nod.

"Okay."

After he's signalled to the server that you're ready to pay, Bradley tells you that he's going to pay.

You don't feel entirely comfortable with him paying the entire bill, but before you can protest, he's already paid.

You wobble as you stand up, and Bradley hastily takes hold of your arm before you can fall.

"I'm never wearing heels again," you mumble.

He just smiles. "You're not used to them, I take it?"

You shake your head. "I don't really go out much. In fancy stuff, I mean." Or at all.

Just like on the way there, you're silent on the way back.

You've got a horrible feeling that you messed up, and now Bradley's angry with you. What if he wanted dessert? What if he wanted to stay longer? What if-

Before you know it, Bradley's pulling up outside your house.

"I'll get your door for you," he tells you.

As Bradley goes to get out of the car, you stop him.

"Um - look, I'm sorry I wasn't very chatty this evening. I just - sorry…"

"That's okay," he replies. "It's not your fault for being shy."

You shake your head. "I'm not just shy. I'm - look, I know I've been difficult pretty much the entire evening. And - I wish I could do something about it, but I can't, and-"

"Hey, what's all this about?" Bradley looks genuinely puzzled. "You weren't difficult."

"I was."

"How?"

You feel tears welling up, and you desperately try to force them back. "I didn't talk for most of the evening, I was messy with my food, and I was rude to a server. And now I've ruined your evening. I'm - I'm sorry."

Bradley doesn't reply immediately, and for one horrible moment, you wonder if he's angry with you.

You don't even realise you're picking at your hands, until Bradley takes your hands in his.

"Y/N," he begins softly. "You don't have to look at me, but please hear me out. You were not being difficult. That incident with the server was not your fault. If anything, it's on me. I should've made sure you were ready to order before the server came over."

You feel a couple of tears roll down your cheeks, whether from relief or something else, you're not really sure.

Bradley gently brushes them away. "I know you didn't talk much, but - I don't mind that. I know not everybody's a talker, and I'm fine with you using other ways to communicate if that makes you feel more comfortable. And I certainly don't mind if you're a messy eater. You don't have to look perfect, okay?"

You suddenly feel light, like a heavy weight's just been lifted off your shoulders. He's not mad?

"But it can't have been a fun evening for you."

Bradley's eyebrows pinch together. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I just-" You pause, taking a breath. "I just - I feel like I have this bad effect on people - like I just jinx a night out and make it awkward and horrible when it doesn't have to be, because I'm just so socially inept."

"Oh, sweetheart. How often do you feel like that?"

You hang your head, trying hard to hide your tears. "Every day."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard."

You nod, almost wishing he wouldn't be so nice about it. It's hard enough trying to keep yourself together around people who don't really care, but it's nearly impossible around someone who does.

"Do you ever feel like that with Callie?" asks Bradley.

You shake your head. "She's the exception. We've known each other all our lives, so…"

"That's good."

You're both silent for a while. Bradley's started gently tracing patterns on your hands, which you're actually enjoying the feeling of.

"You know," he says, "tonight wasn't too bad."

"You think so?"

He smiles. "Yeah. I enjoyed your company. If it's okay with you, I'd like us to meet up again some time."

"For a date?"

"Only if you're comfortable with that."

You manage a small smile. "Okay. I - I'd like that. But - can we not do it in public?"

"Of course." Bradley gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "If that's going to make you feel more comfortable, then I'm fine with it."

You nod. "Thanks. You're - you're very kind."

"I try." He goes to open his door, but then stops. "You okay walking in those?"

That's when you suddenly remember you're wearing heels. Blushing, you shake your head. "I'll probably fall over."

"You want me to carry you?"

You shake your head again. "I'll just take them off."

He frowns. "I noticed some broken glass on the ground earlier. I don't want you stepping on it and hurting yourself."

Despite yourself, you giggle. "I guess you'll have to carry me, then." Not that I'm complaining.

Bradley just smiles and pats your arm, before getting out. "I'll get your door for you."

While he's going around the car to open your door, you arrange your handbag in your lap so that you'll be able to reach your keys easily. You haven't been carried in a long time, so you're a little nervous about how it might feel.

Bradley must have noticed that you're nervous, because he's very gentle as he lifts you, and makes sure you're completely comfortable before he starts walking. You're surprised at how easily he carries you, like you weigh nothing - and how safe you feel in his arms.

He doesn't seem to want to let you go. Even once he's right outside your front door, he still doesn't set you down.

"Um - I should be okay from here," you begin, rather nervously.

"I know," says Bradley. "But I was actually thinking it might be safer if I get you settled on your sofa, so you can get those shoes off, before you start walking. I don't have to if you're not comfortable with me being in your house, though."

That actually makes sense. "No, that's - that's fine."

It only seems to take a few seconds before Bradley has you in your house, and settled on the sofa. You take your shoes off with a sigh of relief.

"I am never wearing heels again."

Bradley chuckles. "You really hate those shoes, huh?"

You smile. "I guess so. I would get rid of them, but someone bought them for me, so it just wouldn't feel right to give them away, you know?"

"Yeah. I get that."

You stand up. "Um - Bradley?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being so kind."

He shakes his head. "It's nothing. I'm just glad you had a good time."

You nod, suddenly feeling rather shy. "Yeah. Um - see you."

Bradley smiles. "See you around."

Once he's gone, and you've locked the door, you go upstairs, and collapse on your bed with a sigh.

Can I be bothered to change into my pajamas?

You're replied by the seam digging into your back. Yes, I can.

***************************************************

Once you're back in bed, you curl up, preparing to do some scrolling. It's been a long day, and you need some headspace.

It's a relief to be back in your normal clothes once again. That dress was not very comfortable.

Your phone buzzes.

It's a message from Callie.

You home yet?

You type a reply. Yes.

How'd it go?

You pause, thinking out an answer. Was okay. Bradley was really nice. He offered to take me out again.

Take him up on it.

I already did.

Good. You know, I thought you'd get on well. He's a bit more mature than the guys our age.

You frown. How old is he?

He's in his thirties, I think.

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. Thirties?! Callie! Why didn't you tell me?

I did.

I didn't see it.

You hastily scroll back through your messages.

Oh, nevermind. You did. Sorry.

Told you. And he's not ancient, Y/N. He's in his early thirties.

But - his thirties! I'm practically a kid compared to him!

You're not. I'm the same age as you, I'm friends with him, and you're more mature than me.

I guess we are both adults. But still… Did you tell him?

Tell him what?

That I'm younger than him.

Of course. And he's a good guy, Y/N. He'd have never asked you out on a second date if he wasn't comfortable with the age gap.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Good to know. Oh, we're still meeting up for drinks on Tuesday, right?

Yep.

Okay. Bye.

Byee.

Well, that was unexpected, you think, putting your phone aside.

But you don't really mind the age gap. So long as Bradley's okay with it - which he seems to be - then you are, too.

Plus, it would explain why you actually enjoyed tonight. You've been on dates before with guys your age, but you've never really enjoyed them.

For one thing, none of them have ever been as nice as Bradley, and for another, they've always wanted you to come back to their place…

Another message from Callie pops up.

Oh, hey, forgot to tell you I gave Bradley your number.

You groan. Callie is enjoying herself way too much.

He said he'd message you tomorrow.

Why tomorrow?

There's a bit of a pause before Callie replies.

He says he noticed you were tired out, and he doesn't want to bother you until you've rested.

You feel your throat getting a little tight. That's so sweet.

Told you he was nice. I'm telling you, Y/N, he's a keeper.

Callie, we've only been on one date - and even that wasn't really a date.

Close enough.

You grin. I'm going to bed now. See you Tuesday.

Byee.

Putting your phone on silent, and setting it aside, you roll over, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe things are starting to look up.

************************************************

As always, I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work, repost it elsewhere, etc.

You know when you get one of those readers who comments on every chapter of your fic, pointing out their favorite parts and quoting lines that really resonated with them?

Yeah, as a writer, this is an absolute gift. ❤️

This is an appreciation post for the fanfic authors who aren’t included on rec lists

For the fanfic authors who don’t get art of their fics

For the fanfic authors who can’t get to 1000/500/100 hits

For the fanfic authors who don’t get comments/reviews

For the fanfic authors who write for small fandoms

For the fanfic authors who write rarepairs or gen fics

For the fanfic authors who get hate for the ships/characters/fandoms they write

For the fanfic authors who write in English despite it not being their first language

For the fanfic authors who don’t write in English

For the fanfic authors who don’t think anyone reads or likes their work

For the fanfic authors who aren’t big name fans

For the fanfic authors who don’t get requests in their inboxes

For the fanfic authors who can’t write stories that are more than a thousand words

For the fanfic authors who only write one ship

For the fanfic authors who are just starting

For the fanfic authors who have been writing fic for years

For the fanfic authors who use fanfic to practice writing

For the fanfic authors who write self-insert fics

For the fanfic authors who write about their OCs

For the fanfic authors who write to vent or cope

For the fanfic authors who are just waiting for their big break

Keep creating, I love you ❤️

reblog if you’re a writer who feels guilt whenever they’re not writing and being productive, so I know I’m not the only one lol

Love this!! I'm more of a quiet, grumpy person myself, so this was great reading. ❤️❤️❤️

how it could grow

thank you for voting in this poll! here we have grumpy!reader and sunshine!rooster going to the farmer's market | fluff, 1.7k

It's early.

Bradley gets up early and probably will forever. You've always considered yourself able to get up in the morning, but he's so...cheery. So damn chipper.

Being up early on a Saturday means the local farmer's market. It's so early that it's not even close to crowded, so you and your boyfriend stroll down the rolls of stalls, checking your combined list as you to to make sure you hit the right vendors.

Bradley waves at many of them, dragging you over to get some pickles and compliment Carlota's hat, to the bee farm stand to ask Steve about new candle scents, to get some iced tea and to hear about Lu's new puppy.

"This is delicious, Lu," he says. "What do you think, babe?" He nudges your shoulder with his.

He's not teasing you, not really, but he is trying to make you talk. You're usually very content to let Bradley be the talker, the friendly face. He's like the sun and for a long time you had no idea what he was doing spending his time with you. You're quieter, rougher around the edges. But he's practically drilled it into you by this point: he loves you. So you let him prod you a little because you do like these people and they always have a smile and kind word for you, even if Bradley does all the chatting.

"It's lovely," you tell the vendor, and mean it. It's no surprise Bradley knows him and his dog's name and everything about the business. He beams at you.

"Thank you!" he says. "Bradley's told me you're particular about your tea. Here, you take some of this new blend to try and let me know next week what you think."

So ensues a small battle over paying that ends with Bradley convincing Lu to come to the Hard Deck for a free drink this weekend in exchange for your sample blend.

"That was nice of him," you mumble, tucking into Bradley's side. He holds the iced tea you're sharing between you so you can take sips from the straw, his other arm slung over your shoulder.

"You're his favorite customer," he says. You look at him. Yeah, right, you say with your eyebrows. Seriously, his say back. You roll your eyes.

"I think that's you."

He winks. "Alright, beautiful." You scowl but he ignores it. "I think it's time to divide and conquer. You take fruits, I'll take veggies? And then we can hit the bakery on the way home and eat on the porch."

"Okay," you tell him. He gives you the rest of the tea and you tilt your cheek up. Bradley recognizes what you're asking for immedietly, surging forward to press his lips to your cheek tenderly.

"I'll find you," he says, and heads to the farm stand, whistling as he goes.

You head to the fruit stand. Bradley asked for strawberries, so you'll get some of those. And some apples for snacking on and blackberries, if she has them. When you get there, there's a small child and her mother in front of you. The little girl looks at you and you crack a smile at her and wiggle your fingers in hello. She giggles before burying her face in her mother's leg.

Yeah, okay, so a few things can crack your exterior. Your cheery, handsome aviator boyfriend and cute kids. And dogs, obviously.

The mom and kid leave and it's your turn. "Hi, honey!" the vendor says.

"Hi, Thalia," you say. Bradley comes here almost every week and when you tag along you love to visit this woman especially and her colorful piles of fruit.

"What's it for you today?" she says. Before you can answer, she holds up her hand. "Wait, I forgot!" She bends down under her stall table and reemerges with the most perfect carton of raspberries you've ever seen. You gasp softly. This is the first time she's had them all summer.

"Those are gorgeous," you say. She grins.

"That tall boyfriend of yours came by last week and I didn't have any yet." She chuckles at the memory. "He looked downright heartbroken and asked me to save some for you special once I picked 'em. So here we are! First and only carton before we bring a full load next week."

You gently take the berries from her and find that words won't come. "Oh," you say softly, looking down at them in your hands. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, dear," Thalia says softly. "Anything else for you?" You snap out of it and smile at her, rattling off your list. She bags up your things into your tote after you pay and you carry them over your shoulder while cradling the carton in your hands like precious cargo. Because it is.

The market is a little more crowded as you scan the veg stalls for Bradley. He does things like this -- the berries -- all the time, really. He looks out for you, makes sure your water bottle has ice in it, buys you more shampoo when he notices you're low, resets the car seat when he knows you'll be driving. You know that he likes taking care of you, that it makes him feel useful and like he's loving you properly, but you wonder if maybe you don't show him the same courtesy.

You know you can be sullen, you can be quiet, you can be prickly. It's not proved too much for him thus far and you're sure it won't drive him away, but you worry that he just doesn't know that he deserves to be loved with the same care and concern that he loves you. He deserves someone who makes sure he has the very first carton of the season of his favorite fruit.

You spot him standing by the kombucha stand and admire him as you walk over, tossing out the empty iced tea cup as you go. Highlighted hair, golden skin, tote bag of veg over his broad shoulders. He's so beautiful and he's yours. You love him, you really do. Right before you call his name he looks up and finds you, almost as if he felt you coming. He breaks into a smile so genuine you can't help but return it.

"Hi, gorgeous," he says, loudly. Beautiful, gorgeous. Bradley is always calling you something that makes your cheeks heat and your stomach swoop. You duck your head and step close to him. "Oh, hell yeah, the raspberries! Are they alright?"

"They're perfect," you tell him. You're perfect. "Thank you."

"Good," he says, like you being pleased by some raspberries is the best thing he's heard today. "Ready for breakfast?" You nod and he grabs your free hand and you head out of the market and down the street.

"Bradley," you say quietly, once you're clear of the stands. It's your serious tone and he picks up on it right away, giving your hand a squeeze.

"You okay?"

You hum. You are, but you need to get this out. "It was really nice of you to ask Thalia for these," you say, looking at your raspberries. "And I...I feel like I don't do things for you like that. And I wanted to say I'm sorry and that I'm going to try to do more because --"

"Woah, woah, woah," Bradley says, tugging you to a stop and making sure you're facing each other. "What's all this?" His brows are creased in concern, the furrow between them annoyingly adorable.

You take a deep breath and keep your eyes on his, determined. You want to be sure he hears this because you mean it.

"I know that I'm...prickly. And you're like the sun, Bradley." He looks like he wants to say something but you keep going before he can interrupt. "And you do nice things for me all the time and I know it's because you love me but also because it's just how you love, and because you're good. And I just want to do more to make sure you know that I love you and that you deserve to be treated like you're...like you're the best person in the world because you are."

His eyes get wider and wider as you speak, his lips parting. Yeah, maybe this is a little intense for like, 8:30 in the morning, but you two are honest with each other. It's how you got this far.

"Sweetheart," he says. "Baby, god, I--" He cups your face with one hand, eyes darting back and forth between yours. "But you do."

It's your turn to furrow your brows. What does he mean?

"You iron my uniform and you make sure I get dinner with Maverick every few weeks and you put gas in the Bronco and you stay up late to call me when I'm halfway across the world and you never let me forget my watch and you tell me you love me and that I'm brave and..." Bradley trails off and his thumb gently strokes your cheek. He starts again, quieter this time. "You're quiet in the mornings but you don't mind when I whistle and you're grumpy when it's too hot but you go outside with me anyway and you let me do the talking because I can't shut up and you only smile when you mean it and you're you. You do love me like that. You do."

Good god, you're blinking away tears at his words. "Okay," you say. "I guess we...I guess we love each other alright." Maybe it's just hard to see yourself the way he sees you. Maybe he finds it hard to see himself the way you see him. Maybe this is just how it is -- you have to remind each other you're doing your best.

Bradley leans in and presses his lips to your forehead. "You fucking bet we do," he whispers.

"Don't crush my berries," you say, eyes fluttering closed. He shifts and you feel his breath on your lips.

"I'd never."

And then he kisses you on the empty boardwalk on another gorgeous morning in your lovely, wonderful life.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here! (also did anyone catch the easter egg in this fic :))

There’s no such thing as work-life balance for neurodivergent & chronically ill people.

This is because everything in my life requires work:

maintaining friendships

keeping up with my hygiene

managing bills

making money

remembering my basic needs

sleeping regularly

outputting creatively

All requires some aspect of work for me.

And when everything in your life requires work, your balance goes out the window.

If you're neurodivergent and overwhelmed — I see you.

If you're chronically ill and overwhelmed — I see you.

You're not dysfunctional.

You're not incapable.

You're doing your best.

By far my fave comfort fic!!❤️❤️❤️

Stay?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word Count: 1356

Warnings: sooo self indulgent, soft Bradley, best friends to lovers, falling asleep on each other. I'm a bit touch starved. Can you tell? Should I write a fic specifically with a touch-starved reader?

A/N: Ok, I had this thought and I had to make it a reality. I also just closed on a condo, so there probably won't be another fic this weekend because I have to move all my stuff and unpack and I don't have wifi set up at my new place yet. Anyways, I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all enjoy!!

“Wait, hey, you can’t take an entire pizza!” you cried foul, smacking Bradley’s hand in rebuke. 

“I can order more if there isn’t enough,” Javy offered, already picking up his phone.

“There’s plenty! I was picking it up for us to share,” Bradley defended himself, reaching for the box again. This time you let him grab it. “This is the type you want, right?”

‘I-- yeah?” In your shock, it came out as more of a question. 

He knew, somehow, just flashing you a crooked smile and a wink before turning to claim your spot on the couch. You could vaguely hear the bickering over what movie to watch going on behind you, but you couldn’t focus on anything other than that little upturn of Bradley’s lips. You would be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter.

Reuben grinned, nudging you with his elbow as he got his own pizza. He was well aware of your crush on your best friend. In fact, he’d recently started pushing you to tell Bradley. You weren’t about to, but you suspected he would soon move on to intentionally putting you in positions that could force you to reveal your feelings. 

Perhaps he already had started to.

When you turned around from getting a drink for you and one for Bradley, there was only one spot left. It happened to be right next to him, but with the way everyone had crowded in, there was just enough space for you to sit pressed up against him. 

He accommodated you easily, shifting an arm around your shoulders so you fit together more comfortably. You felt your face heat up even as you leaned into him. Bradley set the pizza across both your laps and took his drink from you, seemingly unaffected.

You could have sworn Natasha winked at you before starting the movie. For now, you dismissed the thought and settled into Bradley’s side.

One and a half movies later, you were intensely cozy and full of pizza. With the warmth radiating from the aviator next to you, it was a dangerous combination. And oh it worked.

You were so sleepy, and the movie was one of your favorite comfort movies. Slowly but surely you were falling asleep. Bradley seemed unfazed by the whole thing. If anything, he was pulling you closer every time you dozed off.

The first couple of times your eyes drifted shut, you jerked back awake.

“Sorry,” you mumbled when you realized you were leaning more heavily against him.

“S’ok. Go back to sleep,” he encouraged quietly. 

If you were more awake, you might have registered the way his nose pressed into your hair. Even without really processing it, you tilted into the touch. Bradley’s mouth turned up in a gentle smile you couldn’t see as you relaxed against him again.

By the end of the movie, you were fully asleep and fully curled into his side. The other aviators gradually made their way out of his place, though Jake and Natasha handled the leftovers quietly before leaving too.

“Quit waiting around, Bradshaw,” Jake teased, standing in the doorway. “For real though, tell her and spare us all the pining.”

Bradley used the hand not passing up and down your back to flip Hangman off. Jake just chuckled and closed the door behind himself.

You were still sleeping peacefully, and Bradley debated the best way to move you to his bed. The couch was comfortable, but no couch was that comfortable. 

He shifted you carefully into his lap, then into his arms. You stirred just a little when he started walking, grumbling and pressing your face into his shirt.

“You’re ok. It’s just me, sweet girl,” he soothed.

You settled at the sound of his voice, and he swore his heart melted. If it hadn’t melted then, it certainly did when he set you on the bed and your fingers gripped his shirt, unwilling to let go. He didn’t want to release you either, but he still reached up to unclench your fingers gently. You held onto his hand instead.

“Stay?” you asked quietly. Still mostly asleep, you didn’t have the filter that normally kept you from speaking your desires.

“I have to lock up and turn the lights off.” He was trying to convince himself to pry his hand away.

“Then come back after. Please?”

“Honey, I…” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “Are you sure?” he asked at last.

You hummed an affirmative, twisting your face into the pillows that smelled like him. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles.

“Ok, I’ll be back in just a minute.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

True to his word, he was back before you had fallen completely asleep. You felt the bed dip as he slid under the covers behind you and rolled over to face him. He tugged you into his arms and you fit like you were meant to be there.

When he chuckled, the sound reverberated through you where you lay on his chest. You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into him.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You mumbled the words softly, so softly he almost couldn’t hear you. But he did.

“You mean that?”

You hesitated, looking up at him to find his eyes trained on you. “Yes,” you said at last.

Something flickered to life in his eyes at your confirmation, something eager, something longing. Suddenly, you weren’t so sleepy. “I want that too.”

“Kiss me?”

“Your wish is my command, honey.” 

You couldn’t help the faint gasp that escaped you when his lips met yours. You had been waiting for this for far too long, imagined it too many times. It was better than any dream you had ever had. He kissed you gently at first, but you reciprocated like he was the air you needed to breathe. 

And he kind of was. Some small part of you was afraid that if you let go, if you let him stop kissing you, if you even breathed, Bradley might vanish in front of you like it was all a dream.

Eventually, of course, you were forced to part from him. Reluctantly, you acquiesced to your lungs’ demand for air. Despite your momentary fear, he didn’t disappear. He watched you with bright eyes and traced his fingers across your face lightly.

“Why haven’t we done that before?” you asked rhetorically as a grin spread across your face.

Bradley returned your smile, tilting your chin so he could kiss you again briefly. “Dunno,” he mumbled against your lips. “But now I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

You grinned into yet another kiss. “Good. Think I might be addicted to you.”

He tilted your lips together again, though this was more of a soft touch than a kiss. Your sleepiness was catching up to you again, and you could feel your eyelids starting to droop. Bradley noticed it too, nudging your nose with his.

“Go to sleep,” he said softly, shifting so you could nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

“You’ll stay?” you slurred the words, very quickly drifting toward sleep.

He hummed, brushing his fingers across your skin. “Course I’ll stay. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

That was enough to settle you the rest of the way to sleep.

Tomorrow, you would both wake to find your phones spammed by naval aviators with pictures of you asleep on Bradley’s shoulder, demanding to know what happened after they left. You would have a new contact photo in Bradley’s phone, and he would have a new lock screen. He would admire how soft and relaxed you were and you would marvel at the way he looked at you. Even in the picture, you would feel the love in his gaze, so you would print a copy to keep in the chest pocket of your flight suit to keep him close to you.

For tonight, however, there was just the two of you in each other’s arms, and that was all you needed.

Top Gun Taglist:

@malindacath @army24--7 @mads-weasley

This is so beautiful! I'm super shy even around friends, so I loved reading this!❤❤❤

Quiet

Angst + Fluff

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Insecure!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

TW: Swearing, One lewd commment from some drunk asshole

Summary: You get insulted for being shy- Bradley comforts you.

Authors note: This is 1,000% how I picture Bradley reacting to having a shy girlfriend. *Cue protective Bradley*. 

Normally Oneshots aren’t my thing but I had fun with this one!

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