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Quotes from Authors on Writing

“You can, you should, and if you’re brave enough to start, you will.” — Stephen King

“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.” — Louis L’Amour

“Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very.’ Your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.” — Mark Twain

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” — Anton Chekhov

“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.” — Richard Bach

“You fail only if you stop writing.” — Ray Bradbury

“I hate writing, I love having written.” — Dorothy Parker

“No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.” — Robert Frost

“The purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself.” — Albert Camus

“Write what should not be forgotten.” — Isabel Allende

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” — Ernest Hemingway

“Find a subject you care about and which you in your heart feel others should care about. It is this genuine caring, not your games with language, which will be the most compelling and seductive element in your style.” — Kurt Vonnegut

“The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.” — Gustave Flaubert

“I’m not a very good writer, but I’m an excellent rewriter.” — James Michener

“Write what you know. Write what you want to know more about. Write what makes you feel. Write because you have to. Write because you want to. Just write.” — Cecelia Ahern

“You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.” — Annie Proulx

Masterpost

I do not give permission for my work to be published without my approval. If you see my work published under another name, that means someone stole it. (That should really go without saying, but…)

Please be gentle, I’m pretty new to the whole fanfiction posting game. In other words, if you have something mean to say, don’t say it or I will block you.

Fem!Shy!Reader for Y/N fics unless otherwise specified

I will not write smut, I will mostly write fluff and comedy. You can ask for angst if you want, but I will usually make it pretty mild, and write a happy ending for it.

Sorry to anyone who supports popular ships like Dramione and Hangster, I do not write for those or any other ships, I only write ships that are either established in canon (ones that I like, e.g. I will write for Goose x Carole, but not for Upstead), or are between a canon character and an OC or the reader. (There might be a few exceptions, but the ship will then be listed on the fanfic warnings. I also might write comedy for Wolfstar and Ben Daniels & Yassen if you ask nicely!)

All ages welcome, but I mostly post from a younger person (aka under 30s) point of view.

Pretty much all my fics will have some a lot of self-indulgent fluff in, you have been warned.

The character names I have in the masterlist are the ones I write ReaderxCharacter fics for, I will sometimes write a fanfiction for one of the fandoms listed that does not have the reader as a character.

Characters that have their names in italics are OCs from another fanfic (published or not) of the fandom the character is listed under that I think would be good to write a ReaderxCharacter fic about (if you think an unlisted OC would be good on the list, request by all means). There are some quick character summaries you can read to get a picture of them before you request any fics.

Fandoms and Characters I write for (this is a masterlist, and it will grow, I promise!):

Marvel (MCU):

Peter Parker (Avenger)

Loki (not TVA Loki)

Unintentional (Part 2)

Miles Morales (Spiderverse)

Bruce Banner

Unforeseen Events (Part 2) (Part 3)

Pietro Maximoff (MCU)

Top Gun + Top Gun: Maverick:

Top Gun Guys (as a group, headcanons only):

What the Top Gun guys would be like in the kitchen

Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell

Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw

Bradley 'Rooster’ Bradshaw

It's Funny How Things Can Turn Out

Let Me Help (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Maybe Things Are Looking Up

Jake 'Hangman’ Seresin

Maybe We Can Be Friends (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Robert 'Bob’ Floyd

Lord of the Rings (books and movies only, do NOT mention the atrocity that is Rings of Power, I refuse to acknowledge that show as canon):

Aragorn

Faramir

Boromir

Legolas

Eomer

The Fellowship as a whole unit

Pippin (maybe)

Merry (maybe)

Frodo (maybe)

Sam (maybe)

Elladan and Elrohir (either as a unit or separately)

Mergil

Mardil

Cirion

Alex Rider (books only):

Ben 'Fox’ Daniels

Yassen Gregorovich

Alex 'Cub’ Rider

K Unit (either as a unit or separately)

Tom Harris

Seb Ferguson-Daniels

Archie Ferguson-Daniels

Harry Potter (NOT Cursed Child, movies only):

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle (young obvs)

Ron Weasley (possibly)

Neville Longbottom (possibly)

Pride and Prejudice (1995 version only, the 2005 version is not recognised here):

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Charles Bingley

Colonel Fitzwilliam

Lieutenant Denny

Corporal James Ashwood

Pokemon (Gen III HOENN games only right now, maybe more if I ever get my hands on more of the games):

Brendan Birch

Archie

Maxie

House MD (maybe, we'll see):

Gregory House

James Wilson

Robert Chase

Eric Foreman

Chicago PD (again, possibly):

Jay Halstead

Kevin Atwater (possibly)

Chicago Med (maybe)

Ethan Choi

Connor Rhodes

Will Halstead

The Rookie

Tim Bradford

John Nolan

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

how it could grow

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

It's early.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think that's you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd never."

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

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

Hey, could you do me a favor?

Could you just RB this?

The little RB statistics chart is so pleasant and stimmy to look at and I want to see what it looks like when it gets really REALLY huge because it makes me think of some deep sea lifeform

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.

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.

I love it! This reader is just so me!

The Lab Assistant - Banner

Pairing: Eventual Banner x Reader

Warning: Shy Reader

A/N: This will have more parts at some point.

***

You had worked for SHIELD for years. You’d started the day after you graduated from college with your doctorate at 17. You weren’t a field agent. In fact you were pretty sure you would injure yourself if you tried to fire a gun. You were however a brilliant scientist. Your time was spent in a lab surrounded by calculations and beakers. 

Living the life you did, you were also painfully shy. You’d always been younger than your classmates and your job at SHIELD was a fairly isolated one. Currently you were observing a chemical reaction between two formulas you’d created. You peered through your reading glasses to read the temperature and jotted it in your notebook. You heard the door open and held up a finger to let them know you’d be right with them.

You finished recording your observations and turned to your visitor assuming it was one of the lab assistants. To your surprise, none other than Nick Fury himself stood in your lab. Heat flooded your face and you were certain you were as warm as the chemical you’d just been experimenting with. “D-director. What can I do for you?” your voice was soft but the lab was quiet so he heard you.

“I have an assignment for you, Dr. Y/L/N.”

Keep reading

Let Me Help (Part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

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

Summary: Some friends come to visit

Warnings/tags: Bob is a huge nerd, mention of injury, fluff, mention of forgetting to eat, soft Bradley

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There's a knock at the front door.

You're about to get up to go and get it, but then remember your ankle, so you let Bradley go and get it.

"Oh, hey, Bob," he says. "Y/N's in the living-room."

Bob steps in - and stops dead when he sees you.

"I knew it!" he says.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"I knew you were hiding something."

You blush. "Sorry. I shouldn't have hidden it from you."

"It's fine," he says. "But I'm never believing anything you say ever again - about injuries, I mean."

You smile. "I guess I deserve that."

Bob leans forward, lowering his voice. "Uh - I was just wondering - why's Rooster here? And - why does he know your first name?"

"He came to check on me yesterday, my ankle buckled, so he insisted on taking care of me. And - he - asked if we could use first names."

Bob lowers his voice to a whisper. "Phoenix says he likes you."

You stare at him. "He what?"

"He likes you. The others have a bet going to see which of you is going to ask the other out. I - I wasn't really supposed to tell you, but…"

Bradley knocks on the door, and then steps in. "You guys want drinks or anything?"

Oh - yeah, I was supposed to ask Bob that.

"Oh - uh - I'm okay," says Bob. "I already had something to drink."

"How about you, sweetie?" Is it your imagination, or does Bradley's voice go a touch softer when he's speaking to you?

You shake your head. "I'm okay. Thanks."

"Okay. Tell me if you need anything, okay?"

As soon as he's out of the room, Bob turns to you. "Okay - I know I'm not the best at social stuff, but I'm pretty sure he likes you."

"What do you mean?"

Bob stares at you. "Didn't you see the way he looked at you? And the way his voice goes soft when he talks to you?"

You bite your lip. "I thought he was just being nice. Is it - do people know that-" You pause.

"That you like him?" Bob smiles. "Well, Phoenix knows. I don't know about the others, but considering they have a bet going on, I'd say they probably do."

"A bet?" You put your head in your hands. "Oh, wow. How long has this been going on?"

"I have no idea," admits Bob. "I forgot to ask. They all want to come see you, by the way. Make sure you're doing okay."

You stare at him for the second time today. "Really? They actually care?"

Bob nods. "Looks like it."

"I mean, I expected them to be professional, but to actually care…"

A knock at the front door makes both of you jump.

Bob gets up to answer it.

You can hear him and Phoenix talking, but you can't make out what they're saying.

Bob knocks on the living room door. "It's Phoenix," he says, poking his head in. "She wants to see you."

You nod. "Okay."

Phoenix raises her eyebrows when she sees your ankle. "I thought there was something going on!"

You sigh. "Was it obvious?"

"You looked horrified when Mav said we had the afternoon off. And you weren't paying attention at all during training."

"Does that mean it was?"

"Yes." Phoenix sighs. "I wish you'd have told me, C/S. I wouldn't have been so hard on you if I'd known."

She was hard on me? "I deserved it. It was my own fault for not paying attention."

"No." Phoenix steps forward. "Don't do that to yourself. You're a great WSO. Being injured was not your fault."

"I should've looked where I was going."

"It was an accident," says Bob. "You tripped, and fell down the stairs. It happens to everyone."

"You see?" Phoenix says. "Bob doesn't think it's your fault."

Bob sighs. "If anything, it's my fault. I should've dragged her to med bay the minute I found out she'd fallen over."

Phoenix sits down. "So since you're kind of - not walking right now, do you need help with anything?"

"Rooster's taking care of that," says Bob.

Phoenix raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really?"

He nods. "Yeah."

She grins as she turns back to you. "You know he likes you, right?"

You nod. "Bob told me. But - hang on - if he does, then why-"

There's a knock on the living room door.

Bradley pokes his head in. "Oh, hey, Phoenix. I didn't hear you come in."

"Bob let me in," says Phoenix.

Bradley nods. "Y/N, it's getting pretty close to dinner time. Do you want anything to eat?"

You think for a moment. You are getting hungry, but you don't really want to eat in front of other people without offering them something - and you can't really afford that anyway.

So you shake your head. "It's fine."

Bradley raises his eyebrows. "You sure, sweetie? You haven't eaten since this morning."

Your stomach growls, and your face burns. "I - guess I'll have something to eat."

He gives you a reassuring smile. "It's okay. You don't have to eat right now if you don't want to."

"Yeah - I'd rather wait until later - please."

He nods. "That's fine. Tell me if you need anything, okay, honey?"

You nod. "Okay."

Once he's left the room, Phoenix turns sharply to you. "What the - C/S, are you - I swear - how can you not tell he's in love with you?"

You stare at the floor. "I mean - I…"

"You seriously think he calls every girl he's ever met 'honey' and 'sweetie'? He's not Jake!"

"I've only ever seen him at the piano."

"Well, I've seen him flirt with girls. But I've never seen him once call any of them a pet name. Bob?"

Bob, who's been watching Phoenix with fascination, jumps. "Oh! Uh - I don't think so?"

Phoenix turns back to you, a triumphant look on her face. "See?"

"But then why hasn't he made a move?"

"I don't think he knows that you like him," says Bob. "Or maybe he doesn't want to scare you. I don't know, I'm not very good at - this…"

"Bob's right," says Phoenix softly. "I don't think he knows."

You frown. "How? I thought it was so obvious."

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Upstairs, Bradley's trying to focus on his phone, but he just can't. He's got too much to think about.

For one thing, he has to decide when to leave your place, and let you get on with your life. It's not that he doesn't like taking care of you. He does, but he knows more than you how weird other people are going to think it is that you two are living together when you're not dating. And he knows you're too shy to tell him when to leave.

It doesn't help that he's fully aware of the bet that the others have going on for which of you is going to ask the other out first, and while he doesn't know whether to be annoyed or amused, he knows who's behind it.

Maverick.

Ever since he got with Penny after the mission, he's had a lot of spare time on his hands - time that Bradley thinks could be better used not trying to get him a girlfriend.

It's not that Bradley doesn't have feelings for you. He does. But he knows how shy you are, and he doesn't want to scare you away. He knows how loud he can be, and that he can sometimes accidentally overpower some of the quieter people in the squad, and he would never want you to force feelings you might not have.

As he turns his attention back to his phone, his eyebrows shoot up when he notices that it's ages past dinner time, and that you still haven't had anything to eat. Jumping up from the bed, he goes downstairs.

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You're still confused about the whole thing, despite Phoenix and Bob explaining it multiple times. It's like your brain's just refusing to process what's happening. "So, Bradley likes me, but he doesn't know I like him, and so we're stuck in this loop of will-they-won't-they kind of thing?"

Phoenix is about to respond when there's a knock at the door.

"Sweetheart?" Bradley pokes his head in.

Your heart leaps into your throat. Did he hear?

"Rooster, why don't you come socialise?" asks Phoenix.

He smiles. "You sure I won't be intruding?"

You blush as you realise that Bradley probably wants to talk to Phoenix and Bob too. Why didn't I tell him he could stay?

"It's okay," says Bradley. "I had some stuff I needed to get done. I just want to make sure you get something to eat, sweetie. It's past dinner, and you haven't eaten since this morning."

You pause for a moment. "Oh. That's why my stomach feels weird." You pause again, thinking. "I - do you guys want anything? M-maybe takeout or something? I don't think I have anything in that you'd want, and I feel like it'd be rude for me to eat and not offer you anything. You'd - have to - pay for your own food, though…"

Bob's face lights up. "Yeah, that sounds great!"

"If you're sure," says Phoenix, but she looks just as pleased as Bob.

"I don't know, maybe we could put a movie on too?" you add, feeling a little braver.

Bob grins. "Can we watch Lord of the Rings?"

You glance at Phoenix, who looks slightly unsure. "Have you ever seen it?"

Phoenix shakes her head. "No."

Bob stares at her like she's crazy. "You've never seen Lord of the Rings? How is that even possible?"

Phoenix laughs, and holds her hands up. "I've seen The Hobbit, okay?"

Bob's not impressed. "Lord of the Rings is way better. You have to watch it."

"It's a trilogy, right?"

Oh, no. You can't stop yourself from grinning as Bob takes a deep breath.

"First of all, it's not a trilogy, it's one continuing story, and it was split into three parts because of printing costs. And technically, there are six books, because each part is split into two. But there are three movies."

Bradley chuckles. "I guess we know what we're watching tonight, then. If it's okay with you, of course," he adds hastily, looking at you.

You smile. "Yeah. It's fine. I was wanting to watch it sometime anyway, and I do owe Bob a Lord of the Rings marathon."

Bob's eyes light up again. "We're doing it tonight?"

You look at Bradley and Phoenix to try and gauge their reactions. "Uh… I mean, I'm up for it."

Phoenix shrugs. "I'm in."

"Same," says Bradley, smiling.

"Yes!" shouts Bob, making everyone jump. He blushes. "I - I'll go set up the - TV."

"I'll order the food," says Phoenix. "Everyone make a list of what they want, and transfer me the money."

Once you've all decided on which place to order from, and made your lists, Phoenix steps out to make the call. Bob's still fiddling with the TV, trying to get the sound and lighting just right.

Bradley tucks a blanket around you, making sure you're comfortable. "You need another blanket or anything, you just tell me, okay, sweetheart?"

You nod, blushing. "Okay."

Phoenix steps back into the room. "Okay. Food is ordered, and it'll be here in a bit. You need any help with the TV, Bob?"

Bob shakes his head. "It's all good. Just don't touch anything."

Phoenix and Bob sit on your other sofa, and Bradley settles himself next to you on the sofa.

"You sure you're comfy?" he asks.

You nod.

"Okay. But if you start getting uncomfortable, or cold, or something during the movie, just tell me, okay?"

You smile, and nod. "Okay."

There's a knock on the door, and Phoenix gets up to answer.

"Hey, Bob?" she calls. "Can I have a little help bringing this in?"

Once they've brought all the food in, and divided it, Bob turns the lights off, and presses play.

Smiling, you snuggle into your blanket. This is going to be great.

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