Hey, Could You Do Me A Favor?

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

Let Me Help (Part 2)

Part 1

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

Summary: You're pretty sure you imagined last night. After all, why would someone like Rooster care about someone like you? (Well, that's what you ask yourself, anyway...)

Warnings/tags: Super soft Bradley, a little bit of angst, mentions of autism, mentions of sensory issues, mentions of social awkwardness (I think?), mentions of injuries, one mention of painkillers (Tylenol), so so self-indulgent

A/N: Sorry, the writing's probably kind of clunky.

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

As you wake up, the memories of the night before come back to you.

It was probably all a dream, you decide. It feels devastating, but it's the only reasonable explanation you can come up with as to why Rooster, of all people, would actually care enough to go knocking on your door to check up on you.

I probably just went straight to bed the minute I got home, and just imagined all that other stuff.

Trying to suppress the sting of disappointment, you carefully lever yourself out of bed, and try to stand on your ankle.

You're unsuccessful, of course, and you have to bite back a yell of pain when it nearly gives way beneath you.

After hopping to the door, and opening it, you take a quick breather, before starting towards the kitchen. Maybe some food will help me feel better.

"Sweetheart?"

You don't quite jump, but you do lose your balance in your shock at hearing Rooster's voice.

Fortunately, he manages to catch you before you can fall.

"Hey, whoa, what are you doing out of bed?"

He looks so worried that you can't help but feel a little guilty, despite the fact that you hadn't even known he was in the house.

"S-sorry…"

"Don't." Rooster takes a good look at you. "Did you put any weight on your ankle?"

Your cheeks burn as you nod. "Just for a second."

"Did you fall?"

You shake your head, staring miserably at the floor.

Rooster sighs softly, before lifting you in his arms. "You shouldn't be trying to walk. You could really hurt yourself."

"I'm sorry," you mumble. "I didn't realise - I thought you would have gone home by now."

"Why would I do that, sweetie?"

"I don't have another bedroom..."

"I slept on the sofa."

"You could have just gone home."

"Yeah, but what if you'd needed something during the night?"

You bite your lip, trying hard to hold back the tears. "Thanks, Rooster."

He smiles. "How about we use first names, sweetheart? Mine's Bradley."

You smile shyly. "Mine's Y/N."

Bradley smiles. "I like that. Now, do you want me to take you to the living room, or your bedroom?"

"Living room, I guess? But I was - um, I was actually going to the kitchen, to make myself some breakfast…"

Bradley shakes his head. "It's okay, I'll take care of that."

You stare at him. "Are you sure?"

Bradley's lips turn up slightly. "Of course. You need to rest, honey. Just leave everything to me."

"It's a lot of work…"

"Hey." Bradley gently sets you down on the sofa, tucking a blanket around you as he talks. "I don't think this is gonna be as hard as the work I'm used to. And - I know this'll sound weird to you, but I really do want to take care of you."

You mumble something in reply, your eyes fixed on a point just over his shoulder.

"What's that, sweetie?"

The whole of your face and neck burns. "It's nothing."

"Y/N." Bradley's voice is still soft, but there's an undercurrent of steel.

There's a long silence. You really, really don't want to repeat what you just said, but judging from the look on his face, he's not going to let this slide.

"I'm-" you take a deep breath. "I'm - autistic."

Bradley's eyebrows pinch together in confusion. "Why would that be an issue, sweetheart?"

You take another deep breath, feeling really stupid. "It's going to be harder than taking care of a neurotypical."

"Well, I know it's going to be different, but - can you give me some examples?"

You pause, trying to gather the courage you need. "Well, there's certain foods I can't eat, because of the texture, or the taste, or even the smell. There's certain clothes I can't wear - although that doesn't really apply to - this."

Bradley listens carefully as you tell him the specifics, never once interrupting, just allowing you to talk until you stop, feeling rather miserable.

"I suppose I've ruined it now," you mumble, staring at the floor once again.

"Ruined what?"

"We were finally getting a rapport, and now I've ruined it."

"Oh, sweetie…" Bradley rests a hand on your shoulder. "You haven't ruined anything. If anything, I'm glad you told me, because now I know how to help you better."

You're silent for a while, trying to hold back tears. He's being so kind and understanding that all you want to do is collapse against him and cry.

"I've never had that reaction from someone before," you mumble.

"How do you mean?"

"The last time I told someone I was autistic, it was when I was applying to join the Navy. They almost didn't let me in because of it."

"Oh, sweetheart…"

His tone makes you look up suddenly. Your heart jumps when you see that he looks like he's about to cry.

You give his arm a small squeeze. "It's - it's really not that big of a deal. It was years ago."

Bradley shakes his head. "It is a big deal."

You frown. "How?"

Finding your hand, Bradley gently rests his on top. "Because - you've never felt able to tell anyone else, because-" He sighs, shaking his head. "I really wish you had felt able to tell us sooner, sweetie."

"What difference would it make?" you mumble.

"Well-" Bradley gently takes your hand, stroking along the back with his thumb. "I don't know about the others, but I wish I would've known sooner, because then I would've been able to help you better. I mean, I've noticed you don't like crowds, or loud places, that you leave early whenever we're all at the bar…"

For some reason, you suddenly feel a stab of guilt in your stomach. "Sorry," you mumble, staring at the floor. "I guess I am kind of rude…"

"No." Bradley's voice is suddenly stern. "Don't ever talk about yourself that way. Leaving early because you're overwhelmed, tired, or you just don't like crowds is not a bad thing. You were not being rude."

He pauses, taking a breath. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. "Y'know, sometimes I want to leave the bar early, and I kind of feel jealous that you can just - slip out."

"Why don't you just slip out?" you ask. It seems simple enough to you.

Bradley sighs. "I've kind of gained a reputation for being the life of the party. Most people think I'm an extrovert, 'cause I'm pretty outgoing. There's not many people who know that I'm actually an introvert."

He chuckles at your surprised look. "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I like socialising, but - it's pretty tiring. I'm usually ready to go home about halfway through a night out. That's why I usually sit at the piano. It's kind of like a way that I can find my place in a social situation, without actually having to talk all the time. And I also just enjoy singing."

You smile shyly. "I get that. Except for me, it's a bit earlier. I just hang on a bit so I don't seem too rude."

"How much earlier, honey?"

You think for a moment. "About ten, fifteen minutes in. Sometimes twenty, if I'm feeling a bit more energetic."

Feeling like you have to explain a bit better, you add, "It's because the bar's super crowded and things. I can socialise longer in quieter environments."

Bradley smiles. "Good to know."

A silence settles over the room, but it's not awkward. In fact, you quite like it. Normally, when you're socialising, you feel like you have to constantly be chatting, or something's wrong with you, but - this feels much nicer.

It's just unfortunate that your stomach growling is what breaks the silence.

Bradley just smiles. "You hungry, sweetie?"

You nod, wishing your face wouldn't burn so much.

"What do you want to eat?"

"Uh, there should be something in the freezer. I prepped a load of my safe foods, and froze them. There should be one portion per bag, and I think I wrote the cook times on, too. Or they might be on the fridge, I'm not really sure."

"I'm on it." Bradley pats your shoulder before standing up. "I'll get you another ice pack for that ankle, too. Do you want a drink or anything? Maybe some Tylenol?"

"Can I have some water, please?"

He smiles. "Sure."

After he's left the room, you switch on the TV, and turn it back to the show you were watching last night.

Stepping back into the room, Bradley hands you a glass. "Here's your water, sweetie. You need anything else?"

"Do you - um, would you mind getting me my phone, please?"

It seems like the words are barely out of your mouth before he's back with your phone.

"Thanks." You open it to see a message from Bob.

To Y/N: Do you want to meet up today? Bob.

"Oh, um - Bradley?" It's weird how using his name makes your heart jump.

"Yeah?"

"I, um - Bob wants to meet up with me - 'cause, you know - um, anyway, would you mind if I invited him around here?"

Bradley chuckles. "Why would I mind? It's your place."

"Yeah, but - you're taking care of me, so…"

"Hey, I'm fine having him around, if you feel up to it. Like I said, this is your place. Just because I'm taking care of you doesn't suddenly make it my place. What time were you thinking of inviting him?"

"Maybe early afternoon?"

He smiles. "That works for me."

After he's left the room, you reply to Bob's text, and then turn up the volume on the TV. As you watch, you can hear Bradley moving about in the kitchen. It feels weirdly familiar. Like something you could get used to.

It feels like home.

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

Part 3

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

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)

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

What the Top Gun guys would be like in the kitchen

My first headcanons! I decided to keep the x reader bit out for now, but I might put some Top Gun guys x reader headcanons up later. These were really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy!

(Let me know if you want me to write a fic with these in!)

Warnings: Mention of fires, possibly a bit OOC for Goose and young Mav

Maverick

If it's young Mav, he'll be pretty bad at cooking

I mean, he can probably heat up a tin of soup or some baked beans (do they have those in America?), but don't trust him with anything else

I can imagine him and Goose trying to bake something (think basic cake mix), and next thing you know, the fire brigade's at the door

If it's older Mav, he'll able to cook some basic things, stuff like pasta, scrambled eggs, and so on

If he does attempt baking, though, it won't be very good

Maybe it's not quite bad enough to cause a fire, but he'll probably have mixed the ingredients wrong or something, or he'll forget to grease the baking tin

Tbh it doesn't taste bad, but it probably has a weird texture or something, and will most definitely not be aesthetically pleasing

But he's so pleased with himself that he's managed to bake something without setting the kitchen on fire that nobody really wants to burst his bubble

Goose

Is a TERRIBLE cook

He would find a way to literally burn a salad

Carole had to ban him and Mav from the kitchen

Like, she loves him, but she doesn't love having to call the fire brigade every single time Goose and Mav decide to try cooking (again)

Goose thinks it's hilarious whenever he and Mav mess up - until Carole makes him and Mav scrub all the charred food out of the pans (and buy her some new ones)

She arranges to go to McDonald's with Bradley if she knows Mav and Goose are cooking that night

They'd try to teach Bradley, but Carole's not having any of it

"Hey, Bradley, want to find out how you can-" "NICK!"

Bob

I feel like Bob would probably be the best cook out of them all

But it's like a hidden talent

It's probably Phoenix who finds out

Bob is not happy at first

For one thing, he's now got to bring all the food to every. single. party

But once Phoenix manages to persuade him and makes the other guys pay for the ingredients, he'll do it

And he loves it when people compliment his food, although it makes him blush a lot

But he won't let Mav, Hangman, or any of the other bad cooks near his kitchen

He probably uses a different pan for everything (think omelette pan, milk pan, etc.)

He's probably really, really cautious about getting burned

Like if he's frying something, he will probably wear full-on oven gloves

And if he does get burned, even just a little bit, he will hold it under cold water for at least half an hour before wrapping his hand firmly in ice, and continuing to cook

That's probably why he hates being distracted while cooking

He also hates when people mess with his cooking, even if it's just giving something a little stir

Or adding some spices into a sauce he spent ages getting just right

That's one of the few times when he gets really angry

People messing up his system will turn him into a rage monster

This guy has a system for everything in the kitchen, and if you mess with it, even once, out you go

Once Hangman made the plate stack top-heavy while drying the dishes, and now he's not allowed near the cupboards

Then he messed up Bob's pans, and Bob kicked him out of the kitchen

But it's just because he loves cooking so much, and he wants everything to be perfect

And it's all worth it in the end, because his food is really delicious

Hangman

I feel like he's a barbecue guy

Like, this guy loves barbecues

In any type of weather

He would probably get the barbecue out in the middle of winter if Rooster hadn't locked it in the shed (and thrown away hidden the key)

He's also good at frying stuff (even though he drives Bob crazy by using the omelette pan to fry everything (Bob was about ready to throw a rolling pin at his head the last time that happened))

When he's not got the barbecue out, he'll fry literally anything in sight

Literally anything

He also likes deep-fried stuff (but will just get the fast food anyway because he's too lazy to set everything up)

But anything else?

NO.

Do not even let him near the tinned stuff, or you will come back to find the smoke alarm blaring, and a charred, blackened mess (probably in Bob's favourite non-stick pan)

He's also pretty bad at baking (about young Mav level)

Bob despairs of ever getting him to stop messing up the pans, so he simply won't allow Jake into the kitchens anymore

So Jake has to sneak in, make his food, and sneak out again

But Bob always catches him, mostly because Jake's cooking always smells very strongly of barbecue sauce

Rooster's already chased him out several times

Rooster

I think he'd be a pretty decent cook, better than Mav, but maybe not on Bob's level

He probably learned it from his mum

And fortunately, by the time he was old enough to learn, Mav was already banned from the kitchen

He can do most things - fry, heat up tinned stuff, etc.

He's a pretty decent baker, too

Obviously he's not on Bob's level, like I said, but he's good enough that Bob will allow him into the kitchen

He respects Bob's ordered kitchen (and secretly wishes he was that organised)

He'll stand guard outside the kitchen (with a rolling pin) whenever Bob is cooking, and doesn't want to be disturbed

He's chased Hangman out a couple of times (and probably Mav some of the other bad cooks, too)

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

Maybe We Can Be Friends (Part 3)

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Autistic!Fem!Shy!Reader

Summary: You're sick. And a certain aviator is extremely worried...

Warnings/tags: Super super soft Jake, oblivious reader, mentions of being sick, lots of fluff, a bit of angst

A/N: I'm so so sorry it took me so long to write this. I really hope it was worth the wait.

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

Something's wrong. You can feel it even before your head's cleared enough for you to properly start waking up.

Chills are running down your body, your sinuses are burning, your throat feels like sandpaper…

You're sick.

You're still feeling pretty fuzzy-headed, but you know you're definitely too sick to go into uni.

You know you should tell Penny, but you don't even want to lift your head, let alone get out of bed and go downstairs. Your phone's on the bedside table, but with how exhausted you're feeling, it might as well be across the room.

Fortunately, you're spared the trouble of having to do either when Penny knocks on your door.

"Y/N? You going to get up? Sorry to sound like the mom here, but you're going to be late!"

Your throat feels too sore for you to speak properly, so you let out a weak, raspy groan in response.

The door opens, and Penny steps in, looking worried. "Gosh, Y/N," she mutters, looking you up and down, "you really don't look so good." Sitting down, she puts the back of her hand to your forehead. "Oh, honey, you're burning up. You must feel awful."

"Mmm." You just want to go back to sleep.

"No college for you today, of course," remarks Penny as she stands up. "I'll call and let them know. You just get some sleep, okay?"

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

It's mid-morning when you wake up again. Penny's sitting by your bed, scrolling on her phone, but she looks up when she hears you stirring.

"Hey, Y/N. How're you feeling?"

"Still not great," you croak, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

"Well, you're still pretty feverish, so that's to be expected. Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"

You shake your head. "I just feel tired, and achy, and like I never want to move again."

Penny nods. "I wonder if you've got this flu that's going around. Some of the Navy guys had it, and they must have accidentally spread it around town. Quite a lot of the teachers at Amelia's school have got it too."

"Must be making its rounds at uni, then…"

You both fall into silence for a bit, you because you're tired out, and Penny because she's wrapped up in her own thoughts.

"D'you feel like having anything to eat?" asks Penny suddenly. "Or watching some TV?"

"TV sounds good," you say. "I'm not really hungry, though."

Penny nods. "That's okay. By the way, I was going to take Amelia for a trip on the boat today-"

"But because I'm sick, you don't want to leave me alone? I'll be fine, you know…"

Penny bites her lip. "Okay. But just make you have something to eat. You don't have to eat now, but I'd prefer it if you had something to eat before I leave, okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

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

You meant to watch TV, like you'd said, but you end up getting so caught up in your thoughts that you completely forget, simply because there's just been so much happening that you need to process.

It's been kind of a weird time lately, and not just because it's been your first week or so at Penny's place after officially moving in.

Part of it's just because it's felt weird, living with your best friend, and finally getting full nights of sleep, but - well, you just can't really put your finger on it. There's a feeling of apprehension in the air, like something big is going to happen.

You haven't seen Jake since your last encounter at the bar, and - well, you're starting to miss him. Sure, he distracts you from your work, which can get annoying, but - you miss being distracted by him.

You miss him.

And it's not as if the rest of his friends aren't coming to the bar. Quite the contrary, in fact; you see Mav almost every night, the Hawaiian shirt guy is at the piano most evenings, and Jake's best friend is usually beating everyone else at darts.

It makes Jake's absence even more conspicuous, and, to be honest, you're beginning to worry. Is he okay? Did you scare him off? Was it something you said? Something you did?

Whatever the reason is, not knowing is driving you crazy.

Moping and worrying isn't going to get you anywhere, you know that; but it's so hard not to, especially when it's a guy that you like. And you like Jake a lot. More than you should, really.

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

It's mid-afternoon when there's a knock at your bedroom door. "Hey, Y/N. You awake?"

"Yeah." You look up, and smile when you see Penny. "Hi, Penny. How was your trip?"

"Well, the engine failed again, so I think we're either going to need a new engine, or a new boat. But the trip went well until then."

You pull a face. "Oof. That's not good."

Penny grimaces. "Yeah. But anyway, how was your day?"

You shrug. "Kind of boring, to be honest. I wish I'd been able to go with you and Amelia."

"Even though I just told you the boat engine failed?"

"Well, it'd be an adventure, a bit of excitement. I need some excitement, really, to take my mind off-"

"Is this about Jake?"

You nod. "I feel like - I - like I said something wrong, or I offended him… I don't know, I just - I really miss him, and I don't know why."

Penny nods sympathetically. "I feel that way sometimes with Pete, you know. Him and Jake - they're kind of wild cards. You never really know what they're going to do next."

You wish you could inquire further, but the bar's going to open soon, so Penny has to go.

Unfortunately, you're not sleepy like you'd hoped you'd be, which annoys you, because you'd meant to sleep during that time, and now you're flat on your back, bored and miserable, but unable to sleep.

Not for lack of trying, either. You've tried soothing sounds of various types, soft music, and so on, but nothing's working.

Now, you're just trying to somehow slip into sleep by zoning out with your eyes closed. It's not really working, but at least you're resting, if nothing else.

Having your eyes closed makes you more focused on the sounds in the house. There's the pipes, the washing machine, the dishwasher…

And someone unlocking the front door.

Is Penny back already?

Then there's footsteps. Penny's, and what sounds like a man's. Probably Mav's.

But then you hear a soft knock at your bedroom door, and a moment later, Penny pokes her head in.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hi," you mutter. "What's going on?"

Penny sighs, and smiles. "Jake's here, sweetie. He wants to see you."

Your brain's too fuzzy for you to really register what she's saying, but you mumble something along the lines of, "Okay…"

"Do you want to see him?" asks Penny. "You don't have to; I can ask him to come by when you're feeling better."

"I wanna see him."

A moment later, Jake's there, sitting on your bed. "Hey, Y/N. How're you feeling, honey?"

You're not really sure what to answer. You want to tell Jake that you're fine, but the words just won't come.

Jake gently rests the back of his hand on your forehead. "Oh, sweetheart. You're burning up."

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to cry. Not here, Y/N. Not in front of Jake.

Jake's hand moves to start stroking your hair. "My poor baby. Why didn't you tell me you were sick, sweetheart?"

"I wasn't sick yesterday," you whisper, wishing your eyes wouldn't water so much.

"Hey, it's okay." Jake's other hand moves to take yours. "It's not your fault you're sick. I'm just worried about you. Okay, sweets?"

"Okay," you whisper, closing your eyes.

"Oh, sweetie…" Jake wipes away the tears that start rolling down your cheeks. "You're gonna be okay. Please don't cry."

He continues murmuring sweet nothings in an effort to make you feel better, and you sniffle, feeling a bit guilty at the fact that a small part of you is enjoying Jake's fussing. He hasn't been this worried since that time at the bar, and you hadn't realised just how much you'd missed it until now.

"Stay?" you ask. "Please?"

"I'd love to, sweetheart, I don't know if Penny will let me. This is her house too, you know."

"Ask her."

"Okay. But first, I'm going to stay with you until you're asleep, okay?"

You're too sleepy to respond, so instead, you just allow yourself to enjoy this little moment with Jake.

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

You're barely awake before you realise that someone's stroking your hair.

It's Jake.

"You stayed," you murmur.

"That's right, sweets. I stayed. And I'm staying until you feel better, okay?"

"But what about-"

Your words are cut off by a fit of coughing. Sitting up sharply, you gasp and hack as you desperately try not to throw up everywhere.

Jake thumps you on the back until your coughing dies down. "You okay, sweets?"

"Does it-" gasp - "look like I'm okay?"

Jake chuckles. "Stupid question. Sorry, sweets." His hand resumes stroking your hair. "So, you want me to stay with you for a bit?"

Your heart skips a beat. "Just so long as Penny doesn't mind."

Jake smiles softly. "I don't think she will." He's watching you carefully as he speaks, which makes you feel shy. "Do you need anything, sweets?"

"Can I have some water, please?"

"Sure." Jake stands up. "I'll be back in a minute."

It feels like a lot longer than a minute when Jake finally gets back with a glass of water.

"Sorry that took so long, sweetie," he says gently. "Penny wanted to know how you were doing, and if you needed anything else."

You just nod, and go to take the glass, but Jake puts it on the bedside table.

What's he-

Sitting back on the bed, Jake helps you sit up, making sure to put some pillows behind your back, before holding the glass to your lips, and helping you drink.

After taking a few sips, you're ready to go back to sleep. Even drinking water seems to be tiring you out.

"You should probably take some medicine," remarks Jake. "I'll go see if Penny has any."

Before you can protest, he's sitting by your bed again with some medicine.

"I wanna sleep…" you mumble.

"No, sweets, you gotta take the medicine," says Jake gently. "It'll help you feel better."

You grumble, but take the medicine anyway, before lying back down, and preparing to go to sleep.

"You sure you don't want anything else?" asks Jake softly.

"Mmhm."

"Okay." Jake strokes your cheek gently. "Well, if you need anything, I'm right here."

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

"Hey, Y/N?" It's Penny. "You up?"

"Yeah," you reply.

"I was wondering if you'd like to come to the beach with me."

You smile, even though she can't see you from behind the door. "Of course I would! I've actually been feeling kind of cramped the past day or two. I'll be out in a minute."

It's been a few weeks since Jake's first visit, and while you're feeling much better now, you can tell that he's still worried about you. He's been using a much gentler tone than usual, and he's been much more attentive, making sure you're comfortable whether you're sitting or lying down, getting you stuff (even when you could have easily gotten it yourself), and so on.

It was sweet at first, but you were starting to feel a bit stifled, which is why you're kind of glad that he had to go back to work for a bit, even though you do miss him when he's gone.

Your uni isn't going to let you back in until you're better (Jake made sure of that), and you'd have been pretty bored, just staying at home with nothing to do, if it wasn't for Penny. You've both been able to spend some more time together, but this is the first time in a few days that you've managed to get out of the house.

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

"Seems like Jake's more into you than I thought," remarks Penny, as you both walk down to the beach.

"What do you mean?"

Penny stares at you like you've just gone crazy. "Seriously? You still don't think Jake's into you?"

"Well, no, I know he's into me, but…"

Penny throws her hands up in despair. "Y/N L/N, sometimes I don't know what to do with you! Haven't you even noticed what he's been doing the past few weeks?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Hey, Penny!"

It's Mav, grinning all over his face. "Oh, hey, Y/N. You feeling better?"

Wait, he knows? "Uh… yeah. Yeah, I'm feeling better." How does he know?

"Mav!" yells one of the pilots. "Get back to the game!"

"We're taking a break!" replies Mav.

There's a chorus of 'ooh's from the other pilots.

"Hey, Y/N, Jake's over there," says Penny, like you hadn't already noticed. "Go say hi."

"Penny, I don't know if that's-"

Penny gives you a shove. "Go on."

Nervously, you shuffle towards the beach, half-hoping that nobody sees you.

No such luck.

"Hey. Y/N, right?"

It's one of Mav's pilots. She looks friendly enough, but - well, you're always nervous around strangers.

"Yes. Um - hi…"

"My callsign's Phoenix, but you can call me Nat." She smiles. "Jake's told us a lot about you."

"He has?"

Nat nods. "Yep. Oh, how are you feeling, by the way? Jake told us you got sick."

"Yeah, I'm - I'm okay now. Um… how many people know - that I got sick?"

"Pretty much the whole squad, and probably the whole base, too. Oh, and whoever was at The Hard Deck a few weeks ago."

"Whoever was at the bar a few weeks ago?" you repeat incredulously.

Nat gives you a funny look. "Penny didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Nat grins. "Well, Jake got into the bar, saw that you weren't at the counter, and ran up to Penny, asking her where you were. And when he heard you were sick…"

"What?" Your heart's pounding so hard that your chest's beginning to hurt. "What happened?"

Nat's grin widens. "Well-"

"Oh, hey - um, Y/N, right?" It's the guy with glasses.

You nod. "Hi."

He holds out a hand. "I'm Bob. Nice to meet you."

You shake it rather hesitantly, and give him a smile in return.

"Hi, Y/N," remarks another guy, smiling at you. "Turns out Hangman really does have a girl. I'm Coyote, by the way."

The other pilots, who've all been gathering around, also introduce themselves, some asking how you're doing, others simply stating their name or callsign. It's a little overwhelming at first, but their friendliness soon puts you at ease.

"Guys?" It's Jake, pushing his way through the group. Concern flashes in his eyes when he sees you, and he rushes over, standing protectively in front of you. "Hey, guys, don't crowd her. She gets overwhelmed easily."

"No, no, it's okay," you hastily reply. "They weren't crowding me."

But Jake still looks worried. "Let's get you to a bench, sweets. You'll tire yourself out."

You're about to protest, but when you see the concern in Jake's eyes, you don't have the heart, so you let him take your arm, and lead you over to a bench.

"You sure you're okay?" he asks as he sits you down. "You're not too tired?"

You can feel tears welling up in your eyes at Jake's concern, but you do your best to deflect them with a laugh. "Jake, I'm fine."

Jake doesn't look convinced. He opens his mouth, but just then, you hear Mav.

"Alright, guys, back to the game!"

Jake doesn't run off like the others, instead hovering beside you as Penny comes over.

"Hey, Jake."

Jake manages a small smile. "Hey, Penny."

"Hey, Y/N, I was thinking we maybe go get a few drinks before the bar opens. You don't have to bartend tonight if you don't feel up to it, though."

You smile. "Drinks sound good."

"Hey, Hangman, game's starting!" calls Rooster.

"Just a minute!" Jake turns to you. "You gonna be okay?"

You nod. "I'll be fine."

As you stand up, Jake takes hold of your arm to support you. "You sure you don't want me to drive you home?"

"Jake, I'm getting drinks with Penny. And it's literally a five minute walk from the bar to her place. I'll be fine."

"Okay, well, if you need anything, just call me, okay? Or text me."

You nod. "Okay."

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

"I wish he wouldn't worry so much," you tell Penny, as she pours you a Coke.

Penny nods as she hands you the drink. "I know what you mean. Mav's kind of like that."

You take a sip of your drink. "You know, I never found out what happened that night at the bar."

"How do you mean?"

"When Jake found out I was sick, and then came bursting into my room. You remember?"

Penny smiles. "How could I forget?"

"Well, Nat told me some of what happened…"

"How much?"

"Up until the part where you told him I was sick. But I didn't hear what he did. What did he do?"

Penny's face grows serious. "I've never seen someone more terrified. He looked like he was about to have a breakdown. He literally begged me to let him go and see you. I didn't want to at first, because I thought you wouldn't appreciate having your rest interrupted, but…"

"But what?"

"I didn't really have the heart." She sits down beside you with her own drink. "Look, Y/N, I know you think I'm crazy, but - I think - I know - that Jake's in love with you. Like, head-over-heels. He adores you."

Tears rush to your eyes. "I knew he liked me," you mumble, "but I had no idea…" You put your head in our hands, trying hard not to hyperventilate. "Oh, my gosh. And I just - ohh…" You turn back to Penny. "I - What am I supposed to do? He'll probably hate me now."

"Y/N, honey, he's not going to hate you. And this isn't your fault. You had no idea. Just - talk to him, the next time you see him. I'm sure he'll understand."

You nod. "Okay. I'll do that."

Penny smiles. "Good. Now, how about-"

"Hey, Penny?"

It's Jake.

"Yeah?"

"Mav said he left something here, a watch or something?"

Penny gets up. "It's in the back room. I'll go get it for you."

Your heart jumps as she leaves the room, and you turn nervously to Jake.

He smiles at you. "Hey, sweets. You okay? Not too tired or anything?"

You shake your head, wishing you could find your words.

Jake moves to sit next to you. "You sure you don't want me to drive you home?"

You bite your lip, staring into the distance as you piece together what you're going to say.

"Y/N?"

You jump when you feel his hand on your shoulder. "Sorry. Just - thinking."

"You look tired," he says gently. "You sure you don't want to go home?"

You take a deep breath. "I - um - look, Jake, I - I'm really sorry for how I acted today - and the past couple of weeks. I - I didn't realise-"

"Woah, woah, what's all this, baby?"

"Penny told me what happened that night in the bar. I - I had no idea you were so worried, and I've just been acting like an ungrateful - brat."

Jake looks genuinely confused. "Since when did you act like a brat? The first night I came to visit? You were sick, sweetie. I didn't expect you to-"

"No, no, it's not that. It's how - how I - batted your help away."

"Batted my help away?"

"You know, snapping at you today - um, deliberately doing things myself…"

"Oh, sweetheart. You weren't being a brat." He sighs. "I guess I was a little too overprotective, and I'm sorry about that."

"You're sorry?" You can feel a lump forming in your throat. "You've got it all backwards. I'm the one who's supposed to be apologising; I'm the one who-"

"Y/N." Jake takes your hand. "Hey, Y/N, look at me." When you do, he continues, "You haven't been well, okay? And I can tell that you're still not back to your full strength. Please don't upset yourself over this, sweets. I'm not mad, okay?"

You nod. "Okay," you whisper.

"That's my girl." Jake smiles at you.

You're both silent for a bit. Jake's started unconsciously stroking your hand, which you're really enjoying.

"Jake?"

He looks up. "Yeah?"

You're suddenly nervous again. "Um, I - I just wanted to say that I like you. A lot. I - I think I - love you, actually…"

Jake's silent, and for a moment, you're scared that you overstepped.

But then he smiles, and you're surprised to see tears in his eyes. "I love you too, sweets."

There's a long silence as you both look at each other. Jake's resumed stroking your hand, and you don't want to speak in case he stops, or you say something wrong.

Then you both hear cheers, and turn to see Jake's fellow pilots grinning at you.

"Guys!" protests Jake, and you're amused to see that he's embarrassed. You've never seen him embarrassed before in your life; you didn't even know it was an emotion he was capable of.

"So, um," you move closer, trying to ignore the pilots, "does this mean we're dating now?"

Jake chuckles. "Are you asking me out?"

You blush. "No! Well - I just don't really know where to go…"

"We could go to that fast food place," he suggests.

"It's not very romantic-" you begin.

"I can find another place," Jake says quickly.

"No, no, the fast food place is fine. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, sweets. I know what you meant. But are you sure you're not too tired?"

You nod. "I'm okay. Just - maybe if we make it a short one..."

Jake smiles. "Of course."

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

As you walk to Jake's truck, a realisation suddenly hits you.

Jake turns around at the sound of your laughter. "What's so funny, sweetheart?"

You smile. "There never was a watch, was there?"

"A watch?"

"Mav sent you in to find his watch, and Penny said it was in the back room."

Jake laughs. "Those little-"

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

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

Some idiot: "Why are you reading your own fic, that's shallow and stupid"

All fanfic writers and writers everywhere: "Who the fuck do you think I wrote it for?!"

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

despite what canon says, if a fanfic writer’s in love with a blorbo, they can never die

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.