Reblog If It's OK For Other Artists To Draw Your OCs

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

i want to talk about my ocs but im literally this image. i got nothing

Probably pasta, tomato sauce, and cheese

Hey guys be cool and normal but reblog this with the homemade meal that would get you the most hyped as a child. I need it for reasons.

This is too true!!

Two years?! I’m in!

When I was younger, I obsessed over the idea of being a published writer more than I actually wrote. I wanted to be good at it, and I knew that I wasn’t.

In my imaginings of the future, I pictured myself as a seasoned author with a stack of written works resting on a desk, my hand resting lightly atop the tower, as if to say, “look at the breadth of my skill! I believe I have achieved enough. My work is complete; my hand need never pick up the pen again.”

Looking back, I wonder why I painted that picture in my head, a static image that seldom changed. Never did I imagine myself writing in a busy cafe or scribbling poetry under lamplight. I never saw myself writing the books; they just materialized, in all their hardback, small-font glory under my outstretched hand.

This image perverted my love of well-written stories. Whenever I brought my pen to a blank page, I could only write what I thought “novelists” wrote about. Without any passion or truth behind my words, they felt lifeless and empty. Not content with the idea that something I wrote wouldn’t be consumed by an audience, I often chose to write nothing at all.

I hadn’t yet learned that writing is a process of self-discovery. It is a means of trying to understand a chaotic world. And now, it is not something to accomplish; it is who I am.

I am a writer.

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 ❤️

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.