Let Me Help (Part 1)

Let Me Help (Part 1)

A/N: I've been writing a lot of Jake recently, so I figured I'd switch it up a little, and write some Bradley for a change. Hope you enjoy. (Sorry the writing's a little clunky.)

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

Summary: You're injured, but you don't want to be seen as weak or incapable. Well, until you fall into the arms of a certain aviator.

Warnings/tags: Soft Bradley, lots and lots of fluff, some angst, reader is written as a WSO, crying, pining, mention of injuries, insecure reader

Let Me Help (Part 1)

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

You don't see the step until you miss it, falling heavily to the ground.

Groaning softly, you roll over onto your back, trying to collect your thoughts. Your ankle's throbbing, and your hands are grazed, but fortunately, you don't feel any pain or swelling on your head.

Dragging yourself off the ground, you try and put some weight on your ankle. It hurts a lot, but it's not unbearable, and your ankle feels fairly stable, so you decide you'll just try and walk it off for now.

You're not going to tell anyone you're injured, of course.

Sure, the Dagger Squad all seem like nice people, for the most part (apart from Hangman, of course), but you don't know them that well, and you've no idea how they'll react to you being injured. You don't want to know how they'd react.

Especially Rooster.

You've been telling yourself for ages now that you do not have a crush on him. No, you just look up to him. After all, he's handsome, and nice, and you want to be friends with him. Just friends.

And you definitely do not have dreams about him taking care of you in this sort of situation. About him cuddling you while you cry on his shoulder. About him carrying you in his arms…

The thought of him finding you like this is enough to make you shudder.

What would he think of me? What would he say? Would he think I'm a weakling who can't take care of herself? Would he-

"Hey, C/S!"

You jump in fright at the sound of Bob's voice. "Oh! You scared me."

He gives you a funny look. "What are you doing hanging around the stairs? It's almost time for training."

"Oh, I - I must have lost track of time…" It's not a complete lie.

Bob doesn't look convinced. "I heard a crash a few minutes ago. Did you fall down the stairs?"

"No!" Seeing the look on Bob's face, you hastily amend your statement. "Well, yes. But I only grazed my hands. I'll be fine. Look, the skin isn't even broken."

You even hold out your hands for Bob to inspect, which he does with an extremely serious, focused look on his face.

Once he's satisfied that you're telling the truth, he lets your hands go. "Okay. Well, we'd better go to training."

You regretfully pull yourself away from the daydream you were having of Rooster inspecting your hands for grazes. "Oh. Yeah. Training. Right…"

"You sure you're okay?" asks Bob, as you walk down to the briefing room. "Sure you didn't hit your head or anything?"

"No. I - um - I guess falling down the stairs kind of rattled me. You know, it's just been so long since it last happened…"

You're still aimlessly rambling as you both enter the briefing room, but you fall silent the minute you notice Fanboy give you a funny look.

Looking around, you notice that most of the seats are taken.

Except for the one next to Rooster.

When he sees you, he smiles at you, and pats the seat next to him.

Blushing, you take it, sitting rather stiffly, partly because you're in such close proximity to him, and partly because your ankle really is throbbing now.

It seems like no time at all before you have to be back on your feet.

They're mixing things up a little, having the pilots choose different WSOs, presumably as some sort of teambuilding exercise (you weren't really paying attention).

You're disappointed that Rooster didn't pick you, but Payback beat him to it. And it's not as if he flies like Hangman. He's more inclined to go a bit slower, which suits you just fine, especially because you don't want to jar your ankle any more than necessary.

It's difficult to walk out to the hangar with your ankle feeling like it's going to buckle any second, but you somehow manage it, which makes you feel rather pleased with yourself.

You manage to get through training without telling anyone about your ankle. Of course, it helps that you've been sitting down most of the time, which gave you a chance to rest your ankle.

Unfortunately, you didn't realise that means your ankle's gone stiff. You very nearly fall when you get out of the plane, but Payback manages to catch you just in time.

"You okay, C/S?" he asks as he helps you stand.

You nod. "Just a bit stiff."

Payback doesn't look completely convinced, but he doesn't argue, fortunately.

Not that he would, anyway. You two aren't really close enough for that.

Neither are you and Rooster, as a matter of fact.

It's very difficult for you not to limp as you walk back to the building. Your ankle's getting more and more painful with every step, but you're determined to at least get through today.

Once you're in the briefing room, though, it's impossible to not let out a sigh of relief as you sit down, which prompts funny looks from the others, but you pretend not to notice.

"So, we're meeting at The Hard Deck tonight, then?" asks Phoenix.

She's answered by sounds of assent from the others.

You curse silently. You'd forgotten about the meet-up at the bar after work.

And you've already promised Bob that you'll be there tonight.

Wonderful. Just what I wanted.

It's not just because of your sprained ankle, though. You're already tired from work, and the last thing you need is more socialising in a noisy, crowded bar.

"Can't we do something different?" asks Hangman. "We're always at the bar."

Phoenix shrugs. "What were you thinking?"

"Dogfight football."

Fortunately, the protests at this shuts him up very quickly.

"Okay, okay!" Jake holds his hands up in surrender. "Geez…"

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

Sighing, you collapse on your sofa almost immediately after entering your house. You're really not looking forward to tonight.

For one thing, you've still got to hide your injury. For another, you just don't like loud, rowdy places - like bars.

What if I just didn't go? you wonder suddenly. What if I stayed home and watched a movie or something?

At first, you try to dismiss the thought, but the more you think about what you'd do if you stayed home, the more you realise that you'd actually prefer to stay home.

So you end up deciding to stay home, and order some food.

Normally, the only time you have is when you're rushing around trying to get ready for work, so it's nice to finally be able to have some quality time with yourself.

By the time you finish dinner, you're pretty tired, and you don't want to risk falling asleep on the sofa, so you decide to skip on the movie, and just go straight to bed.

As you're getting ready for bed, you suddenly remember that you should probably ice your ankle, so after rummaging through the freezer to find something to wrap around your ankle, you go to bed.

But despite your exhaustion, it still takes you ages to fall asleep.

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

The next morning, judging by the way the others are buzzing, it sounds like some crazy stuff went on at the bar yesterday, and you're very, very glad that you didn't go.

Rooster smiles when he sees you, and pats the seat next to him. "Hey, C/S."

As you sit down, you try desperately not to wince. The ice did help some, but your ankle's definitely feeling worse than yesterday.

"Missed you last night," says Rooster. "Were you okay?" Is it your imagination, or is his voice just a little softer than usual?

You nod, wishing your face wouldn't go so red. "Just - just tired."

Rooster doesn't look convinced, but nods.

He looks like he's about to say something else, but just then, Maverick calls for everyone's attention, and you've got no more time to chat.

"Well, as it so happens, Cyclone happened to be in a good mood today," he begins.

Oh no. Chills run over your body. You already know what Maverick's got in mind.

"So, since he's given everyone the afternoon off, I was thinking we play some dogfight football at the beach."

The room erupts into cheers.

Except for you.

You feel sick to your stomach. Sports were never really your thing, although you don't usually mind playing with the squad, but - you can't possibly play with an injury, and if you hide it, you won't be able to duck out of the match.

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

What am I supposed to do? you wonder, as you try not to limp on your way to the beach.

Training's gone pretty badly. You were so distracted by your throbbing ankle, and trying to think of ways to get out of the game this afternoon that you ended up getting 'killed' at least twice (you lost count).

You were flying with Phoenix today, who isn't too impressed with you, but she's not as annoyed as you thought you'd be, although that might be because you didn't get 'killed' by Hangman.

But Phoenix's annoyance at you is the last thing on your mind.

Your ankle's feeling less and less stable the further you walk, and the pain's so bad that you're giving yourself a headache trying to bite back the groans and winces that you'd usually let out.

But you're still determined to not tell anyone.

You're not really sure why you're so bent on being independent. Maybe it stems back to the fact that you're autistic, and you've always felt like you've had to work twice as hard as your neurotypical peers to prove your worth…

Of course, it doesn't help that when you first applied to be a Naval aviator, the military didn't want to let you in, on account of you being autistic, and you had to fight to prove that you were worth taking on.

But your problems didn't end there. No, even while training to become an aviator, there was still the horrible cliquey situation that you thought you'd left behind in high school. All the other women seemed to know each other, and you didn't really feel comfortable trying to make friends with the men.

Except for Bob, of course. But then, you've both been friends since you were in high school. And Bob's always been a very kind, accepting person.

But you're not even going to tell him about your ankle. He's too conscientious to be able to help you hide an injury, and he'd have you in the sickbay in no time, which is the last thing you need when you're with the Dagger Squad

Everyone else seems happy and excited, pretty much the opposite of how you're feeling right now, and you really don't want to put a damper on their afternoon.

I wish I could just go home, you think. It's not like anyone would really miss me. And we'd be an odd number anyway, if Mav wanted to play.

You pause for a moment, turning the idea over in your head.

After all, why not? Why shouldn't I go home? It's my afternoon off. And anyway, what if my ankle played up, and they all noticed? Isn't that what I was worried about in the first place?

But I told Bob I'd be there.

You didn't promise.

Yeah, but bailing on him twice in two days? Isn't that a bit much?

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

Hi, Bob. Sorry for the short notice, but I'm going to have to bail on the football game.

You pause for a moment, before hitting send. Well, no going back now.

Bob's reply comes up almost immediately. To Y/N: Oh, no. Why? Bob.

You manage a small smile as you reply. I'm just feeling kind of tired.

To Y/N: Do you want me to come over? Bob.

No, it's ok. I'll be fine by myself. Maybe tomorrow?

To Y/N: Okay. Hope you feel better soon. Bob.

Sighing, you put your phone aside, before immediately picking it up again so you can order some food. You feel bad bailing on Bob twice in quick succession, but you weren't lying. You are really tired, not least because of this stupid injury.

Maybe I'll take a sick day tomorrow, you wonder, before quickly dismissing the idea. You've only got a finite amount of sick leave, and you want to save it for - well, for a very rainy day, i.e. when you're really sick.

Which, if truth be told, hasn't happened this year. And you're past flu season, so…

There's a knock at the door.

You nearly jump out of your skin in fright, before groaning, and dragging yourself up to go and see who it is. It won't be the delivery guy, because you haven't even finished your order yet.

Your heart nearly stops when you open the door.

It's Rooster.

"Hey, C/S," he says. "Just came by to see how you're doing."

Him just being alone with you is enough to render your brain mush, and you have absolutely no idea how to reply, so you try stepping back as a way of inviting him in.

It's just bad luck that you completely forget about your ankle, which gives out beneath you, sending you to the floor.

Rooster catches you just in time.

Lifting you in his arms, he carries you to the living room, where he sets you down on the sofa.

"Where'd you hurt yourself?" he demands.

You stare at the floor. "My ankle," you whisper, wishing your cheeks wouldn't burn so much.

Very gently, Rooster takes your sock off. Judging by his soft gasp, he doesn't even need to touch your ankle to know that it's badly swollen.

"Is it broken or sprained?" he asks at last, his voice surprisingly thick.

"Sprained."

"Okay." Rooster takes a deep breath. "I'm gonna go get some ice for this. I'll only be a minute, so just stay put, okay?"

Once he's left the room, you scrub at your eyes, trying hard to keep the tears away. You expected him to yell at you for hiding an injury, but his quiet concern somehow makes you feel much, much worse.

And it doesn't help that your brain keeps replaying what happened over and over again.

That look on his face when you fell…

You don't even realise that you've started to cry until you feel a pair of strong arms around you, and a large hand cradling your head.

"Oh, sweetheart," murmurs Rooster. "I'm so sorry, I know it hurts…"

Sniffling, you lean into him as he strokes your hair, and murmurs sweet nothings in an attempt to calm you down. Despite how awkward you feel, you'd be lying if you said that a small part of you doesn't enjoy his fussing just a little bit.

It takes you a while to calm down, because every time your crying subsides, you see that look on Rooster's face again, and another wave of guilt washes over you, which makes you cry even more.

But once you're calm, you immediately pull away from him, feeling horribly embarrassed.

"Sorry," you mumble, staring at the floor once again.

"It's okay." Rooster moves to put the now partially melted ice pack on your ankle. "That better?"

You nod, feeling your throat go tight.

"Good."

There's a long, awkward silence. Not that you're complaining. You're still feeling a little fragile, and like you might cry any minute, so you don't really feel much like talking anyway.

"Hey, C/S?"

You look up.

"Do you - uh, need anything?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine. You should go back to the game."

Rooster shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you here."

"You should," you mumble.

"I don't want to leave you like this. You're tired, you're hurt, and you're in pain. Please let me help."

You can feel tears welling up again. "Okay," you whisper. "Thank you. And - I'm sorry about ruining your afternoon off."

"Don't be sorry." Rooster gives you a soft smile, although his eyes look suspiciously glassy. "I was worried about you, and this was the least I could do."

"You were worried?"

Rooster nods. "And it turns out I was right to be worried."

"What do you-"

Rooster suddenly takes your hand in his, holding it so tightly that you're worried he might break it. "You're very lucky that your ankle didn't give out when you were by yourself, and that you weren't more hurt when you fell. Please, never hide an injury like this again."

You nod. "Okay."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Rooster lets go of your hand, although the worried expression doesn't fully leave his face.

You take a deep breath, feeling you should probably turn the conversation in a different direction. "Um, I was just about to order some food. Do you want any?"

Rooster smiles, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Sure. But I'm paying."

You shake your head. "I'll pay. It's the least I can do."

Rooster looks like he's about to argue, but thinks better of it. "You sure you're comfortable?" he asks. "I could go and get you a blanket if you want…"

"A blanket sounds good," you say, smiling shyly. "Oh, and could you hand me the TV remote, please?"

Smiling, Rooster hands you the TV remote, before going upstairs.

You let out a soft sigh of relief as you relax into the sofa cushions, and turn on one of your favourite comfort shows. You're exhausted from today, so you decide to rest your eyes a bit.

Just for a few minutes…

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

It seems like only a few seconds later when you suddenly wake up to feel Rooster tucking you into bed.

You let out a soft grunt. "Mm. What're you doing?"

Rooster smiles softly. "You fell asleep on the couch, sweetie. I figured you'd be more comfortable sleeping in bed. You still up for dinner?"

You shake your head. "Too tired. Can you just stay with me until I sleep?"

"Of course." Rooster's very gentle as he props your ankle up, and carefully wraps it in a fresh ice pack.

The slight shock from the cold wakes you up for a brief moment, but exhaustion soon takes over again, and you have to fight to try and keep your eyes open.

You feel the bed shift, and then Rooster's hand tenderly stroking your hair.

The last thing you remember before sinking into oblivion is his soft voice.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

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

Part 2

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

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Unforeseen Events (Part 3)

Summary: You move into Stark Tower, and start working with Dr Banner more often, something you would enjoy if you didn't suddenly feel so weird around him.

Warnings/tags: Mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, mentions of stitches, mentions of anaesthetic, inaccurate medical drama, Bruce is a sweetheart, Tony is a bit mean in this one, mentions of chest compressions, Thor is clueless about Midgardian stuff

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

This is a dream.

That was what you thought the first time you looked around your living quarters. Even now, you sometimes still wonder if you're dreaming. This is absolutely crazy, you think. A whole floor on Stark Tower, as well as the hangout floor you share with the Avengers?

The other Avengers have more or less accepted you as one of the team, even though you're not actually an Avenger. They include you in pretty much everything they do, except for missions - although you know about the missions anyway, because Bruce has to be there for the meetings, and he lets you tag along.

On top of moving you to Stark Tower, paying all your bills, and so on, Tony (he insists that you call him that) also insisted on you resting until your injuries were all better.

"No working, at all," he said. "I can't have my best lab assistant not at their best."

You were about to protest, but thought better of it. After all, Bruce was resting too, so it's not like he'd have been stuck with another lab assistant.

It wasn't that you had anything against the other lab assistants, it was just because you didn't want to make Bruce have to get used to a stranger before he had to then get used to you again.

Or so you tell yourself.

It's definitely nothing to do with the fact that your heart jumps whenever he catches your eye. Or the fact that you feel a jolt every time he brushes against you. And it's definitely got nothing to do with Tony's smirking at you every time he sees you together.

Fortunately, Tony hasn't actually said anything to you after the lovebird incident, but you're pretty sure he's up to something. What, you have no idea, but you're pretty sure it's going to happen soon.

Unfortunately, you're starting to suspect that he might be right - at least about you liking Dr Banner. You didn't really want to admit it at first, and put it down to all manner of things: Tony making things awkward with that unfortunate 'lovebird' comment, Hulk making things awkward by beating you up, both of you being shy people…

But it's been several months since you first moved into Stark Tower, and if anything, you've grown even more awkward around Bruce than before. It's not an unpleasant awkward, exactly. You really do enjoy being around him.

Surely it's too early to admit you're in love with him, though? Yes, you like him, but could some of it just be because you're very socially awkward? That doesn't make you in love with him, right?

There's a knock on the door.

"Y/N?" It's Tony. "We need you in the lab!"

You jump up like you've been electrocuted. "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry, I completely forgot! I'll be right down!"

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

You rush into the lab only a few minutes later.

Bruce looks up from his work, smiling when he sees you. "Hey, Y/N."

You manage a small smile. "Hi. Sorry I'm late."

"It's alright. I know it's kind of a weird time to be working."

You step over to take a look at what he's working on. "I kind of feel like I should be used to it by now."

"Are you criticising my routine?"

"I don't think waking up super early, grabbing a coffee, and then working non-stop in the lab until you fall asleep is exactly a routine."

He shrugs. "Technically, it is a routine."

"Technically."

Bruce just chuckles.

You both fall silent as you get to work. Tony's usually the one keeping the conversation going, but he's gone off to do - something, you're not quite sure what.

You've got a nasty feeling that he's trying to get you and Bruce together. Not that you're complaining. You just don't like the way he's trying to orchestrate it.

But you have no idea if Bruce even likes you. You've never been the best at reading social cues, and - well, you get the impression that Bruce isn't really the type to make his feelings obvious.

Crash!

You groan. The beaker that was sitting innocently on the bench just a moment ago is now smashed on the floor, helped along by your elbow.

Of all the-

"Y/N? You okay?"

You nod. "I'm fine. Just clumsy."

Bending down, you start picking up the pieces.

"It's okay, I can clean it up-"

You let out a yelp.

Bruce rushes around, full of concern. "Oh, no. You're bleeding. Here, let me-" He reaches out to take your hand.

Your heart jumps, and you yank your hand away. "No, it's - it's fine. I'll just - put a plaster on it."

Bruce looks a little hurt. "Can I at least take a look?"

The thought of him touching you makes your heart jump again. "It's fine. I need to clean this up."

"I can clean it up. Or Tony can."

"I can clean up what?"

You groan when you hear Tony's voice. Of course he has to come back now!

He comes to a stop when he sees you. "Ooh, you don't look so good, kid."

"Sweetie, I need to take a look at your hand," says Bruce softly. "There might be some glass stuck in there."

Your heart leaps into your throat at the pet name. "Okay," you mutter, feeling like it's probably better to be sensible right now, and just let him take a look at your hand.

"Yeah, you guys go do that," says Tony. "I'll take care of things back here."

"Thanks," says Bruce as he helps you up.

He must have guessed that you're feeling a little dizzy, because he's walking slower than usual, and is keeping a firm hold on one of your arms - not enough to hurt you, but enough so that he can keep you steady.

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

Once you're sat down on the examination table, Bruce goes into full doctor mode. You'd find it adorable if you weren't trying to calm your racing heart every time he does - well, anything. Even him typing something into your chart makes you blush.

Okay, maybe I do like him. Just a bit…

"Okay," he says, as he stands up. "It doesn't look like any glass got into the cut, but you are going to need stitches."

You nod. "Okay."

Fortunately, Bruce is pretty good at stitching, so it's over very quickly, although your face has now become a raging inferno. Why, you're not quite sure. He is just doing his job, after all.

"All done," he says softly, patting your arm. "I'll just bandage it up, and then we can finish up."

By the time he's done bandaging your arm, your face feels like the surface - no, the core of the Sun, and your heart feels like it's about to explode out of your chest.

"Thanks," you mumble.

Bruce smiles softly. "It's alright. You don't have to thank me." He reaches out to help you as you stand up. "Are you okay to walk?"

You nod. "I think I'll be fine."

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

As you walk back through the lab, you notice that most of the stuff's already been tidied and put away. That's usually your job, but Tony must have taken pity on you, seeing as you're injured.

The man himself is taking a look at something on the computer. He looks up, smiling when he sees you. "Oh, hey, kid. We were going to put on a movie after we've finished up here. You want to join us?"

You pause for a moment. You're pretty tired, but you don't want to be rude. But on the other hand, watching a movie doesn't really require much energy, so…

"Okay. I'll join you. Can I go and get some stuff first?"

"Sure."

Bruce pokes his head in. "Oh, hey - Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I forgot to tell you - the anaesthetic will probably wear off in about four to six hours."

You nod. "Okay."

"Tell me if you're starting to feel uncomfortable. I don't want you to be in pain, alright?"

You nod again as you feel the heat starting to creep up into your cheeks again.

"Y/N's joining us for the movie tonight," says Tony.

Bruce smiles. "That's nice."

"Yeah - um - see you there!"

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

What on earth is wrong with me? you wonder as you look around your room for - something, you're not quite sure what. Why can't I even stand to be in the same room as Bruce now? What's going on?

And where are my nice pajamas?

What's wrong with you, Y/N? Are you seriously trying to impress Bruce with what pajamas you wear? What kind of-

"A-ha!" You hold up the pajamas triumphantly, even though there's nobody else in the room to see them.

There's a knock on your door. "Y/N?" It's Nat. "Movie's starting in five!"

"Yeah, I know, coming!"

After changing into your pajamas and grabbing your favourite blanket, you rush downstairs.

All the girls are squished up on one sofa, with absolutely no space to spare.

And there's no way you're sitting on the boys' couch. They'll squish you half to death.

So that only leaves one other sofa in the room.

Bruce's sofa.

It's not that the others don't like him sitting with them, or that they're scared he's going to Hulk out mid-movie. He just prefers his personal space.

He must have noticed you hesitating, because he smiles, and pats the spot next to him.

Blushing, you go over, and sit down, curling up as you wrap yourself in the blanket.

Bruce moves over to give you some more space while you get yourself comfortable.

"Comfy?" he asks softly.

You nod. "Yes, thanks."

You're pretty sure Tony's had something to do with this, judging by the smirk on his face, but you ignore him, and turn to face the TV.

The first movie's good, but you'd be enjoying it a lot more if you weren't so hyper-aware of what Bruce is doing. Every time he shifts, every time he gets up to get a snack or a drink, every time he eats or drinks anything…

"Well, that was rather nice," says Thor, when the movie's over.

He starts to get up, but Tony stops him. "Where are you going?"

Thor gives him a funny look. "The movie is over. We are supposed to go to bed now, are we not?"

The room erupts in laughter.

"Thor, do you seriously not know how a movie night works?" asks Jane, wiping tears from her eyes.

He looks confused. "We have watched the movie, so we now go to bed. Is that not how this works?"

"You can watch more than one movie during a movie night."

"Oh." Thor sits back down. "Well, I did wonder what we were going to do with all those snacks."

"What snacks?" says Tony. "You ate them all!"

This results in more laughter.

"We've gotta get you up to speed with this stuff, man!" laughs Clint.

Once you've all calmed down, Nat suggests watching a medical drama.

"It's got good reviews, and it's supposed to be pretty accurate," she says.

"I think we'll let our resident doctor decide on that," says Steve, with a look at Bruce.

He blushes. "I - okay."

The show's about twenty minutes in when you hear Bruce gasp.

"Are you okay?" you whisper.

He turns to you looking absolutely horrified. "That's not how you do chest compressions!"

"What do you mean?"

"Are they compressing the patient's stomach? And their hands are all wrong. You don't put your hands like that. You put them like this-" he shows you.

And that's pretty much how the rest of the movie goes, with Bruce explaining everything they're doing wrong medically.

Not that you mind. You're not finding the movie particularly interesting anyway, and it's nice to hear Bruce talking about something he's so passionate about.

When the movie's over, everyone looks expectantly at Bruce.

"Well?"

He sighs. "Not accurate, at all."

"Really?" The sarcastic inflection in Tony's voice makes you giggle. "I would never have guessed."

"Oh-" Bruce blushes. "Sorry - was I being too loud?"

Steve smiles, and shakes his head. "Don't listen to Tony. You weren't bothering anyone."

You sigh, and slump back, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I think I might turn in now."

Everyone groans.

"Just one more movie!" begs Tony. "Please? For me? For Bruce?"

Your face burns, and you stare at the floor.

"It's okay, Y/N," says Bruce. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

You breathe a sigh of relief. "In that case, I think I will turn in."

And then you're out of the room before anyone can reply.

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

As you get ready for bed, you can't stop thinking about what Tony said. He more or less told all the Avengers that you have a massive crush on Bruce.

Is it really that obvious? you wonder, as you climb into bed. Am I really that unsubtle?

There's a gentle knock on your bedroom door.

"Can I come in?" It's Bruce.

You nod, but then remember he can't see you from the other side of the door. "Yes."

He steps inside. "Are you okay? You left pretty quickly. Did Tony upset you?"

You shake your head. "It's fine. I was just tired."

"Same here. It's been a long day." He pauses for a moment. "You know, we don't have any upcoming projects, so we have some days off."

You nod, wondering where he's going with this. "That's good."

He blushes. "I - I just thought you should know. Goodnight."

You feel a bit disappointed that he didn't ask you out or anything, but he is an introvert, after all. He's going to need to recharge. Fun as he is, Tony Stark is pretty exhausting to be around, and you're feeling pretty drained yourself.

And it's not like he likes you back, right?

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

Part 4 coming soon

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


Tags
7 months ago

ao3 turns 15 today

reblog if youre older than ao3

(there's a lot of people asking about this, but the legal age to use social media is 13, except in few countries. so yes, there are people here under 15)

9 months ago

Oh my gosh I loved this! ❤❤❤

Oh, Honey || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Maybe a Jake x reader where the dagger squad and jake accidentally make her feel insecure? Like Jake and reader have been dating for a couple months so Jake wants to introduce her to them. So Jake throws a little bonfire bbq at his place and the daggers come to meet her... Read Rest Here

A/N: Changed up the ending a smidge. Hope you still love it!! :) My fav trope - angst to fluff, miscommunications galore!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word Count: 2,000k +

Oh, Honey || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Brushing down your dress for probably the fifteenth time you let out a slow sigh while looking over yourself in the mirror. You were nervous, terribly nervous. You’d been dating Jake for four months now. You’d learned all about his friends at work. The people he spent more time with than anybody. The people he’d grown to love and adore after going on life threatening missions. See, they kept the group together as a tactical unit after their surprising success bombing the uranium facility. Even more so of a reason to bond. They were the best of friends now. And you were the girlfriend.

Being so nervous you hadn’t heard Jake walk in and watch you with cautious eyes. He too knew you were nervous. You were gentle. So damn gentle. That’s why he went for you. He was so tired of going after the same type of girl and getting the same results, nothing. He’d tried for years and years without much success. The over bubbly bottle blonde wasn’t what was going to suit his fancy. No. It was you.

He'd run into you in the last of places he really expected at the library. His sister and nephews were in town, and they wanted to go. So, he obliged. And thank goodness he did. He always counted his lucky stars with how fortunate he felt that he’d met you.

“You look beautiful.” He spoke in a softer than usual voice trying not to startle you into oblivion.

You still jumped. A small smile brushed across your lips as you spotted him in the doorway of his bedroom, “You scared me.” You let out a soft laugh not really responding to him.

He walked over to you and brought you in for a warm embrace, “Sorry darlin’.” A light but breathy chuckle came from above you. Closing your eyes, you breathed him in slowly trying to slow you rapidly beating heart, “They’re going to adore you.” He whispered before placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded gently into his chest, “I sure hope so.” Your wanted to curse as you heard your voice waver unfavorably. Surely, that was going to give you away.

He gave you a gentle squeeze, “You have nothing to be worried about darlin’. If you can handle me you can handle them.”

You giggled at his efforts to calm you down, “You’re quite the handful Jake.”

He hummed, “Maybe so.” He had to agree. But before he could really counter he heard the knocks at his front door, “They’re here.” He clicked his tongue gauging your reaction. Had he calmed you down? Were you going to be okay? Was it too soon? He wanted to collapse in on himself. He’d surely has never been so unsure of himself. He knew how much he liked you. Even loved you. He knew he wanted it to be you. He was so sure of that. But he was so unsure of how to make that happen. Love was always so fleeting for him. He wanted to make sure you would stay. You would always want to be around him. He never knew how to act. But he must’ve been doing something right as you stuck right by his side for the better part of the last four months.

“You don’t say.” You grinned up at him as he pulled away.

He rolled his eyes before giving your side a playful pinch, “Smart ass.”

“Come on. Let’s go get your friends.” You nodded towards the door letting him lead the way. You were trying to put on a brave face, but damn were you terribly nervous.

Oh, Honey || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

You heard Natasha’s voice from the side of the house, “I’m really surprised you went for her.” Your breath caught in your throat as you failed to listen to the rest of the comment. ‘She’s so sweet and kind!’ But you didn’t hear that as you back up against the door. Well damn. At least you had thought it was going well.

You heard the group laugh and agree in confirmation. Shit. You really had misread the backyard throughout the night. You thought you and Bob were agreeing on so much. You really thought Natasha wanted to go shopping with you after you told her all the good local spots that didn’t include the gross megamall that swam with people you tried to avoid. You and Javier bonded over your love of the San Diego Padres. But maybe you were wrong. Maybe you’d really misread the situation that badly.

“Agreed! She’s not ridiculously tall and blonde and super talkative.” You could’ve sworn that was Bob’s voice speaking up. It seemed out of character for him. But he clearly didn’t like you. You backed yourself right back into the house. You didn’t hear the ‘She’s an actual human being that can have a real conversation. She’s great Jake,’ from him.

Instead, you frantically grabbed your phone from your back pocket. Thinking too fast you shot Jake a text,

Hey, not feeling super great. Crazy nauseous. Think I’m going to head home.

What you weren’t expecting was his insanely fast response. You thought he’d be engrossed in some conversation or agreement about you. Were you really that bad? Was he agreeing with them? It certainly didn’t sound like he was disagreeing with them.

Hold on darlin. Don’t go. I’ll be right in.

Your eyes went wide as you realized you really didn’t have time to slip out the front door like you’d planned. He’d be walking in the side door any second now. Damn you really hadn’t thought this through. You couldn’t lie to the man. No, you were an awful liar. Terrible actually.

You walked away from the door but just a moment later it clicked open. Jake’s big green eyes softening once he spotted you on the other side of the living room looking more frantic than ill. His eyes scanned your figure for any other signs of what was actually going on. He didn’t waste a second once he’d finished his once over. He walked right on up to you.

“What’s the matter love? My cooking isn’t sending you home is it?” He scanned you again with nothing but concern in his eyes. You didn’t really seem sick. You were just skiddish. He was used to this. Earlier on in the relationship he had to dance around you. Let you get used to his presence. He was so careful with you. And you bloomed right under him into something of your own. You got comfortable with him. Opened up like a book to him. Trusted him more than anything in the world.

“I’ve been feeling a little gross all day.” It wasn’t really a lie. You have felt gross all day. You’d been remarkably nervous over the entire thing.

He cocked his head to the side in slight confusion. He read you like a book though, “Honey, they love you!” He gave your arms a squeeze in reassurance. He seemed so adamant. He didn’t seem like he was lying to you. He seemed so confused. Had you missed something?

“It didn’t sound like it.” It slipped so quickly from your mouth you weren’t sure if you said it out loud or in your head. It was a tossup really.

His face dropped immediately, “What’re talking about darlin’?” His face was laced with nothing but confusion. You’d definitely missed something.

You pursed your lips. Oh well, secrets already out, “She said she was surprised you went for somebody like me.” Your eyes dropped in shame. You felt a little guilty for listening In on their conversation meant for their own ears only.

He pulled your eyes up to look at his, “Then what?” He asked.

You shook your head in confusion, “They all agreed.” You sighed. Why was he making you repeat what you heard.

He shook his head slowly, still holding your chin in his hands, “No love. She said you were sweet. That you were kind. She really likes you. Said she can’t wait for you to take her shopping.”

Well shit. How had you missed that? Your stitched your eyebrows together as you looked for any sign that he could’ve been fooling you. You couldn’t find a sign, “But then Bob said I wasn’t a blonde or talkative.” You repeated trying to justify your actions.

“Oh honey.” He laughed at the situation, not at you. He’d never dream about laughing at you, “You don’t know him well enough to know he was being sarcastic. He said that you were so fun to talk to, could hold an actual conversation.” He ran a hand down your arm trying to give you the reassurance you so clearly needed.

Shaking your head, you felt the nerves bubble back up. You definitely missed that, “I must’ve walked back inside.”

He wrapped you in another tight embrace. This one felt more necessary than the rest. He could feel how anxious you were. How saddened you looked at the thought of his friends not liking you. It warmed his heard at how much you wanted to be accepted by them. You knew how much they meant to him.

“Wish you would’ve stuck around.” He mumbled into your hair while rocking you back and forth ever so gently, “Even had Rooster singing your praises.”

You smiled as you finally started to believe him fully. He wouldn’t have lied to you like that, “Really?” You asked softly. You cheek was resting on his chest as he held you in his comfortable embrace.

“Yeah,” He chucked before pulling you closer into him, “I think they may ever like you more than me. I know Bradley does.”

Your heart swelled with all the love you felt for the man. He always knew what to say. He had a way with words that always left you feeling all the love, “Like that’s hard to do.”

He let out a full belly laugh now, “There she is. There’s my smart ass of a girl.”

“You like it.” You countered, pulling away from his strong hold on you.

He nodded, “I love it.”

You couldn’t help but to smile at that comment, “Noted.”

He hummed before dropping his arms from his hold on you, finally letting you squirm away, “Know what else I love?” He asked. He had a mischievous smirk dancing across his face.

Not having a clue what was coming next you innocently answered his question, “What’s that Jake?”

“You.”

A small gasp escaped your throat. Eyes widening and pupils surly dilated, you gave him nothing but a shocked stare, “What?” Finally squeaked out of your mouth after a few long moments.

“I love you.”

You gaped at him. Now of all times? Now?

“Jake! You dropped that bomb right now?” Your head was dizzy with thoughts. How could you face them again after he just did this to you.

He shrugged, “I think I’ve known for a while. They just helped me realize it.” One of the things you loved about him was the complete lack of pressure to respond to it. He didn’t expect it. He knew you took things slow. He was hardly offended. But he knew he loved you and he needed you to know it.

That was when it all clicked for you too. You loved him too. You loved him beyond your wildest measures. You don’t think you’d be able to live a life without him anymore. He’d changed you completely. Changed you whole.

Your eyes found his again. Yours scanned his pretty tanned face. He was smiling. Patient face on as he waited for your response. Your legs felt like jelly when your eyes finally locked with his, “I love you too.”

The smile that lit his face could make you happy for the rest of your life. God, you couldn’t wait to keep making him smile like that. You knew you were in trouble when he picked you right up in his arms kissing any part of you that he could get his mouth on and whispering sweet ‘I love you’s’ in between. The group be dammed.

Oh, Honey || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

OC Summaries

OC Summaries:

Spoilers up ahead

Mergil:

Personality type: ISTJ-T

Age: 19

Oldest adoptive son of Boromir.

He is fairly stern and grumpy on the outside, and is difficult to get to know

But the effort's worth it once you do get to know him, because he's an extremely loyal friend, and is really a big softie at heart

He is fiercely and protective of those he loves, and completely unafraid to get physical whenever he needs to

Mardil :

Personality type: INFP-T

Age: 17

Younger adoptive son of Boromir

He is shy, and very gentle, but can be very stubborn, and is extremely loyal

He shows his caring, compassionate side more than most boys, but he can be very stern when he needs to be

Although he's a little more reluctant to get physical, he will if he feels the situation calls for it

Cirion:

Personality type: ESTP-A

Adoptive son of Faramir

Age: 18

He has a reputation as a prankster and comedian, but will never, ever make jokes at someone's expense

He is very loving and affectionate, although it takes a while for him to show that side of himself

Like his cousins, he is very loyal and protective of those he loves, and can get very angry when someone he loves is hurt

Seb Ferguson-Daniels:

Personality type: INTJ-T

Age: 17

Nephew of Ben Daniels, twin brother of Archie

He is pretty artsy, and is good at drawing

He can be a bit goofy at times, but he is more serious than his brother Archie

He also likes country dancing, and is surprisingly good at it.

Archie Ferguson-Daniels

Personality type: ESFP-A

Age: 17

Nephew of Ben Daniels, twin brother of Seb

He is a lot goofier than his brother, and is good at music

He especially likes country music, and will happily play guitar for hours if left to himself

He is clumsier than his brother, but still enjoys country dancing, even if he is forever going the wrong way.

Both he and his brother are very protective of those they love, and are completely unafraid to get physical, even though neither are particularly strong, and will often end up getting the worst of the fight

Macie Ferguson-Daniels:

Sister of Seb and Archie

Age: 16

Personality type: INFP-T

She is very shy, but is slowly growing in confidence

She loves acting and singing, especially musical theatre

She is very supportive of her brothers, and very protective of them, despite being the youngest

She is very gentle, but if you make her angry - beware!

The twins have had to physically hold her back on several occasions

Corporal James Ashwood

He is in Colonel Forster’s regiment, and is a good friend of Denny’s. He is an amiable enough boy, but does not like to dance, and can often be seen playing cards instead. He also likes to play cricket and football, and is one of the best in the regiment. He is also very protective of any young lady he meets, even if he does not particularly like them, and he dislikes Wickham’s smooth ways and happy manners intensely, and does not trust him.


Tags
5 months ago
A Comic About Fix-it Fanfics
A Comic About Fix-it Fanfics
A Comic About Fix-it Fanfics
A Comic About Fix-it Fanfics
A Comic About Fix-it Fanfics
A Comic About Fix-it Fanfics

a comic about fix-it fanfics

8 months ago

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

2 months ago

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

4 months ago

please PLEASE learn how to tag your fanfics. Don’t tag fluff when it’s angst, don’t tag smut when it’s fluff and please don’t tag characters that ARENT EVEN MENTIONED IN THE FIC!!!!

Please PLEASE Learn How To Tag Your Fanfics. Don’t Tag Fluff When It’s Angst, Don’t Tag Smut When
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passionatefanficgirl - Welcome to My Overactive Imagination
Welcome to My Overactive Imagination

You can call me ElizabethINTPBritish girl who loves to writeAll AgesSmut FreeNeurodivergent Reader (I mostly write for autistic/ADHD reader or both)Requests now open!

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