Passionatefanficgirl - Welcome To My Overactive Imagination

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

Maybe Things Are Looking Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's here.

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

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

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

Anything but go on this date.

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

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

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

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

He should look absolutely ridiculous.

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

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

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

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

You nod, your mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

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

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

"You ready?" Bradley asks.

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

The rest of the drive is silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You manage a small smile as you take it.

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

Not exactly. But you nod anyway.

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

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

Bradley smiles. "It's nothing."

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

"Hi, can I take your order?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But I embarrassed you."

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, here are your meals."

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

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

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

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

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

"How's your dinner?" he asks.

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

He raises his eyebrows. "You sure?"

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

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

Oh, no.

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

"Um, I'm kind of full."

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

You nod.

"Okay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was."

"How?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's good."

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

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

"You think so?"

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

"For a date?"

"Only if you're comfortable with that."

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

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

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

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

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

"You want me to carry you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am never wearing heels again."

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

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

"Yeah. I get that."

You stand up. "Um - Bradley?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being so kind."

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

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

Bradley smiles. "See you around."

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

Can I be bothered to change into my pajamas?

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

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

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

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

Your phone buzzes.

It's a message from Callie.

You home yet?

You type a reply. Yes.

How'd it go?

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

Take him up on it.

I already did.

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

You frown. How old is he?

He's in his thirties, I think.

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

I did.

I didn't see it.

You hastily scroll back through your messages.

Oh, nevermind. You did. Sorry.

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

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

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

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

Tell him what?

That I'm younger than him.

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

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

Yep.

Okay. Bye.

Byee.

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

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

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

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

Another message from Callie pops up.

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

You groan. Callie is enjoying herself way too much.

He said he'd message you tomorrow.

Why tomorrow?

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

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

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

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

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

Close enough.

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

Byee.

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

Maybe things are starting to look up.

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

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

To the fanfiction readers, the late night scrollers, the ones who are trying to escape, to find a moment of peace, to find comfort or a safe place to land.

You're safe here. You are safe, you are loved and you are important. The world needs you and my dear sweet one, I promise you it will get better. Maybe not today or tomorrow but it will get better. People love you and are here for you.

You are valid, you are enough. I promise you that you are enough.

So take a deep breath and relax a little for me. I hope you find the fan art or the fanfiction you need. I hope you find comfort and safety here. I hope you know you're favorite character is waiting for you, they adore you and are so excited to see you.

You can do this sweet one. Life is tough but so are you. Your comfort character believes in you and so do I, the random girl on Tumblr who knows it gets better, because it did for her.

❤️💛True Believer 💛❤️

Hi!! I loved your Jake x autistic!reader fic!! I was wondering if you'd be open to writing a Bradley x autistic!read fic next? Maybe reader goes out with the dagger squad and ends up getting a little overwhelmed/goes nonverbal but Bradley helps calm them down? No pressure if your not into the idea

Stay safe and stay hydrated <3

It's Funny How Things Can Turn Out

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Autistic!Fem!Shy!Reader

Warnings: A bit of angst, lots of fluff at the end, soft Bradley, sensory overload and consequent meltdown, mentions of autism, mild cursing, Naval inaccuracies, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drink spiking

Summary: You decide to break out of your shell for once, and go to the bar with the Dagger Squad. Things don't quite turn out how you expected them to.

"Y/N, please," begs Nat. "It's going to be fun."

You've got a very different idea of fun to her, but you don't really want to say that.

"I know Bob can't go, but Coyote can. You know Coyote."

Yeah, but not well enough to be able to cling to him like a limpet.

For that matter, you don't really know Nat that well, either, but since she's Bob's friend, you feel a bit more comfortable around her than most strangers.

You've known Bob pretty much all your life. Your mums were friends, you two were friends in school, and even though you're not an aviator, you've always tended to stick around Bob.

He's the type who'll let you cling to him like a limpet in a social situation, but unfortunately, he's got a cold tonight, and can't go to the bar. You were fine with that, partly because it would give you an excuse to miss the Friday night torture get-together at The Hard Deck.

Nat means well, of course. She knows you're shy, and that you're pretty introverted, but she just doesn't seem to understand that your social battery isn't up to coping with strangers today, and that you'd rather take care of Bob than socialise with a load of strangers.

"Bob's not that sick, you know. He just doesn't want to spread it on to the rest of us."

"I know," you mutter. "I guess I'd just feel better if-"

Nat shakes her head. "You need to get out of your shell a bit, Y/N. You'll be fine, okay? It'll be fun."

Your brain is screaming at you. Don't do it, Y/N! Don't!

But you don't want to disappoint Nat, so you nod. "I guess so."

Nat smiles. "Great! We'll go to the bar in about forty-five minutes."

Wait, what?

But Nat's already let herself out before you can say anything.

This is not good.

The bar is so crowded that you're convinced there's more carbon dioxide than oxygen in the air - which could explain why you're finding it difficult to breathe.

It's so boiling hot that you're already sweating, and the noise is starting to get to you - already.

Nat doesn't seem to notice as she pulls you through the crowd, towards the pool table.

"Hey, Phoenix!" calls a guy - Coyote, you remember. You've met him a couple of times, and he's always been nice to you.

Coyote smiles when he sees you. "Hey, Y/N. How's it going?"

You want to reply, but your mouth's too dry, so you just nod, force a smile, and hope that he doesn't think you're being rude.

"Who's this?" Another guy's come up to Coyote.

Wait, is he talking to Coyote, or me? you wonder. You don't want to appear rude, but your mouth feels like sandpaper, and it's impossible to even try to form words, let alone say them.

To add to it all, your social battery is on the verge of dying, which has lowered your sensory tolerance considerably.

Fortunately, Nat comes to your rescue. "This is Y/N," she says. "Y/N, this is Bagman."

"Hangman," protests the other guy.

A few other aviators arrive, Nat makes some more introductions - and then abandons you to go and get some drinks for everyone.

Where am I supposed to go? you wonder.

Normally, you and Bob would sit in a little niche near the pool table. As luck would have it, that little niche is empty, but there are people blocking your way, who you'd have to push past to get there.

The bar's getting more and more crowded by the second. People are squeezed so close together that they're touching. You can feel strangers brushing past you as they go to get their drinks.

Normally, it would just annoy you, but tonight, you have to physically force yourself to hold it together every time you feel the light tickling touch of a stranger brushing past you.

Everything's becoming too much to handle. The noise, which bothered you even at first, is now a deafening roar that drowns out individual sounds, the smell of alcohol is giving you a headache, the lights are hurting your eyes…

You need out. Right now.

Somewhere over the roar, you hear a yell. "Bradshaw! Over here!"

In desperation, you clamp your hands over your ears. It helps a little, being able to block out most of the noise, but the light's still hurting your eyes, the smell of alcohol is still giving you a headache, and people are still touching you as they walk past.

Fortunately, you're still in the vicinity of Bob's friends, so you watch them to try and calm yourself.

You should go over and say hi, you know, you tell yourself.

But there are too many people blocking the way, and anyway, you're too shy to go over. The thing is, you can put a name to his face, but you've never actually been introduced.

Another person pushes past you, more roughly than the rest, which makes one of your hands slip off your ear.

All the noise comes pouring back in, and it's all you can do not to make a run for it.

You back into the wall, hands clamped over your ears again, looking desperately for an escape.

But the only way out is the door you came in, and that's blocked by loads of strangers, all so close together that you'd have to push past.

Your heart's pounding in your ears. You can still hear some of the roar, but at least it's somewhat muted now that your hands are blocking it. You shut your eyes, trying desperately to hold it together.

Then you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you open your eyes to see Bradley standing in front of you, looking worried.

You don't hear what he says, but you know it's something along the lines of, "Are you okay?"

You shake your head.

Bradley's face softens. He says something else, and then points to the door.

You nod, hoping he's asking if you want to leave.

Bradley wraps a protective arm around you as he walks you out. Somehow, he manages to shield you from being too jostled as he pushes through the crowd.

Once you're outside, Bradley takes you to a bench a little way outside the bar. Even with your hands over your ears, you notice how nice and quiet it is outside.

Slowly, you take your hands off your ears, before turning to Bradley, who's sitting next to you.

"You okay, sweetie?" he asks softly. "You seemed pretty overwhelmed back there."

You want to give him a rational answer, explain calmly and clearly that you're autistic, that it was sensory overload, and that you just need time to recharge.

But instead, you start to cry. Today's just been too much for you to handle, and now that you're suddenly in a safe space, you just can't keep it together.

"Hey, it's okay." Bradley puts his hand on your arm, gently stroking up and down. "You're safe."

You want to lean into his touch, and allow yourself to cry, but you suddenly realise just how awkward this situation must be for him. As soon as you realise, you try hard to choke back your sobs.

You idiot! you scream at yourself. You're crying in front of one of Bob's aviator friends. Do you know how humiliating this will be for him if he finds out? And how awkward this is for his other friends?

You're so busy berating yourself, and trying to choke back your sobs that you don't realise you've started picking at your hands. It's a habit you've gotten into, to try and stop yourself from getting emotional in public.

Bradley notices what you're doing. He doesn't say anything about it, but gently takes your hands in his.

"Do you need anything, sweetie?" he asks softly.

You bite your lip. What you really want is a hug, but when you try to speak, nothing comes out.

You've gone nonverbal.

This isn't the first time it's happened, but it's the first time it's happened in public without either your mum or Bob to help you.

You hastily dig in your pocket for your phone, before opening a text app, and typing something out before handing it to Bradley.

Bradley's face softens when he sees what you've typed.

Can I have a hug?

"Oh, sweetheart. Come here."

You shuffle closer to him on the bench, letting him wrap his arms around you, and hold you close.

It's been so long since you've had a proper hug that you've almost forgotten what it feels like. Some more tears trickle down your cheeks, but you let them fall this time.

It takes a while, but you do manage to calm down. Pulling away, you sniffle, wipe your eyes - and then a wave of embarrassment hits you.

I'm sorry that had to be so awkward for you, you type. Dragging you away from your friends and all. Please don't tell Bob - or the others. They'll probably never forgive me.

Bradley frowns, and shakes his head. "It's okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to help. And the others weren't mad at you, you know. They were just worried."

You sit in silence for a bit, wondering whether to go back in or not, before finally saying, "If you, um, if I go back in, can I - um - stay with you? Just, like, while we're in the bar?"

Bradley smiles. "That's fine." He pauses for a moment before adding, "You're Bob's friend, right?"

You nod. "My name's Y/N L/N."

"Mine's Bradley Bradshaw. My callsign's Rooster, but you can call me either."

You smile shyly. "Okay."

"You feel ready to go back in?" asks Bradley.

You nod. "Yeah, I guess…"

Bradley raises an eyebrow. "You sure? I don't want to force you."

"No, it's - it's fine. The 'I guess', is just kind of what I say, if you get what I mean."

"Right." Bradley stands up, and holds out a hand to help you up.

You take it, and stand up.

As you both head back to the bar, you suddenly realise that maybe the Friday night get-together at the bar didn't have to be torture.

After all, Bradley was kind to you, even though he only knew you through Bob, so maybe the others won't be so bad either.

You smile as you glance up at Bradley. You'd have never guessed that this evening, which started so badly, could get better just because of someone's kindness. It looks like being a good night after all.

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

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

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

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."

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

The inconsistency of writing is fucking with me right now.

Sometimes I write for eight hours straight, then I can't type a single word for a month.

Sometimes I write as though I have been possessed by some kind of divine being, sometimes I literally become illiterate and have to look up every second word.

One day I love my characters, the next I decide how to kill them off — which gives my writing motivation only a temporary boost, but I'll take what I can get.

In the distance, my readers sob for updates and my heart bleeds for them... meh, I still can't be bothered to write right now. I'm kinda bored, though.

Maybe We Can Be Friends (Part 2)

Since you all liked the first one so much, I decided I'd write another one! Hope you enjoy this one too.

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

Summary: You thought you'd more or less made your peace with Jake, and you were hoping that there would be no more drama, but it turns out that Fate loves to go against your wishes, which is something Penny and Jimmy won't let you forget in a hurry…

Warnings: Obnoxious roommates, mentions of autism, mentions of sensory overload, a bit of angst, some fluff, soft Jake, Penny and the reader are besties

A/N: Sorry this one's got less Jake in, I promise there will be more of him in future!

"Hey, Y/N!" calls Penny, as you enter the bar. "How was your date?"

You blush. "It went well. And it wasn't a date."

Penny just gives you a knowing smile, and slips you a Coke. "Just as a heads-up, it'll probably be busy tonight, so you don't have to stay, okay? Like I said last time, I'll pay you the full amount no matter what time you leave, and I won't be mad if you need to leave early - or if you just want to skip it."

You bite your lip, remembering what happened last night. Although it turned out well, you really don't want to go through another sensory overload. But at the same time, you don't want to leave the bar to just two people, especially if it's busy.

"I'll stay, and just test the waters a bit," you reply. "But if I start looking scared, or agitated, or something…"

Penny nods. "I'll keep an eye on you, just so something like last night doesn't happen again, okay?"

You nod. "Yeah, that's fine."

"And I have a feeling that a certain aviator will be looking out for you, too," she adds, with a teasing smile.

You blush. "It was just the once, Penny. He's probably going to be back to his old self tonight."

"I wouldn't be so sure, hon. He's not exactly the type who'd do that for just anyone, you know."

You blush again, wishing your heart wouldn't jump about whenever you talk or think about him. What's wrong with me? I literally just stopped hating him last night, and now I'm feeling weird about him again?

"Bar's open!" calls Jimmy, as he flips the open/closed sign.

You hastily get behind the counter, and pour yourself another Coke.

Fortunately, while it's busier than usual, it's not as busy as it was last night. And you're getting pretty caffeinated, so things are looking good.

As you start taking orders, you find yourself watching the doorway, wondering if there are going to be any Navy pilots tonight.

Well, until you catch Penny grinning at you.

"Penny!" you groan. Realising how stupid that sounds, you hastily add, "It could be anyone, you know." Why's my voice so high-pitched?

"Right, Y/N. Right."

"Well, it could be-" You hastily try to think of a pilot who you can actually put a name or callsign to.

And then you realise - and grin.

Turning to Penny, you say, "You know, I noticed you fancied one of them - Matthews, was it?"

Penny rolls her eyes. "Mitchell." She chuckles. "Alright, you got me there."

"So you do like him?"

Penny blushes. "I guess. But don't tell him, okay?"

You nod. "Sure. But why?"

Penny smiles. "I guess you don't know what the word 'maverick' means." She's about to explain, but just then, the Dagger Squad walk in.

You stare at them, looking for Jake, and trying to ignore Penny's grinning.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, Penny."

You and Penny both jump, and let out squeaks of fright, before turning around to see Jake and Mav grinning at you.

"Peter Evan Mitchell!" Penny scolds him.

"Hey, I didn't know I was gonna make you jump," protests Mav.

You notice that Penny's blushing, which would normally make you giggle - except for the fact that Jake's standing right in front of you.

"Hey, sweets," he says.

Your face burns as you stare at him, every rational thought immediately leaving your head.

Jake chuckles. "What's the matter? You suddenly bowled over by my good looks?"

You open your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out.

"It's okay, sweets. I'm just teasing. I'll have a Jack and Coke, by the way."

You try not to spill anything as you make his drink, pretending not to notice Jimmy grinning at you.

Jake's fingers brush against yours as you hand him his drink, a small thing that makes your heart jump much higher than it should have.

That, and his soft, "Thanks, hon."

Fortunately, Penny's busy with Mav (something you'll tease her about later), but Jimmy's trying to catch your eye.

Unfortunately, it's not quite time for the evening rush, so you don't have anyone else to get drinks for, which would help you get your mind off Jake - and be a perfect excuse not to chat.

You don't really want to talk about Jake tonight, though, so, for once in your life, you're positively delighted when the evening rush starts, and you don't have any time to chat.

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

You're woken up by your phone buzzing.

Groaning, you reach over, grab it, fumbling the unlock feature a couple of times until you manage to open it.

There's a text from Penny: Hey Y/N, I know you probably won't read this right now, but was wondering if you'd like to have a girls' day out?

That's enough to wake you up immediately. Do I want to go on a day out with Penny? Stupid question - of course I do!

You immediately reply with: Yes! I'll be ready and down to the bar as quick as I can!

Penny's reply comes through a few seconds later: I was actually going to come around to your place with the car. Figured it'd be more convenient.

You smile, type out a thank-you, and then start getting ready.

It's been ages - years, actually - since you and Penny have had a proper day out. Sure, you met at the beach about a week ago, but that wasn't really a designated day out.

Despite your indecisiveness over what to wear, you're ready in record time, and actually have time to do a bit of scrolling before you hear Penny's car pull up outside.

"Hi, Penny," you say, as you get in.

"Hey," she replies. "Figured I'd take advantage of Amelia being away this Saturday."

"How is she?" you ask. You've met Amelia a few times over the years, and you've always liked her.

"Pretty good. She's settled in well at school, made some friends, and she's getting pretty good grades, too."

"That's good. She's a nice girl."

"Of course you'd say that to me!" laughs Penny. "I'm her mother!"

You blush. "But I do genuinely think that."

"I know you do, hon. You two always got on well."

You both fall into silence after that, just taking time to enjoy each other's company.

After a while, Penny says, "You know, for our day out, I was thinking we go shopping, get some clothes, skincare stuff, maybe some lunch…"

You smile. "Sounds good." Penny mentioning skincare stuff has put an idea into your head. "You know, I was thinking…"

"Yes?"

"What if - you don't have to agree, of course - but what if we bought skincare stuff - like spa kind of stuff, and had a girls' spa night?"

Penny's face lights up. "Now that's an idea!"

Then you remember. "Oh, but - what about Amelia? Will she mind?"

"She's having a sleepover tonight. And even if she wasn't, I'm pretty sure she'd be happy to join in."

"She wouldn't think it's a bit weird or cringe? You know, because I'm friends with you, and you're her mother?"

"You're closer to her age than I am, and anyway, she loves you, hon. She'd do anything for you."

You're not used to getting compliments like that, and now you're blushing. You try to think of something else to talk about, but just then, your stomach growls.

You blush again. "Sorry."

Penny chuckles. "It's fine, hon. Looks like our first stop'll be breakfast, then."

You start to protest. "Oh, no, Penny, you don't have t-"

Penny cuts you off with another laugh. "I'm not dragging a hungry, grumpy Y/N around the shops, okay? You're getting breakfast, whether you like it or not."

"Okay, but just a sandwich or something. I want to save my appetite for lunch."

"Sure thing. We'll stop in at the convenience store on the way."

You do feel better after you've had a sandwich and a drink. Penny ends up getting something to eat as well, even though she's had breakfast.

After you've finished your sandwiches, Penny says, "Should we go look at some clothes, or go get the skincare stuff?"

"I don't mind," you reply, truthfully, since you really don't mind.

But Penny's having none of it. "That's not an answer, hon."

You groan. "Okay, how about we explore the secondhand shop, see if we can find anything nice?"

Penny smiles. "Sounds good to me!"

Unfortunately, despite looking around for quite some time, you don't find anything really good in the secondhand shop. There are a few items that are decent, but you don't really feel like spending that much money on something you could get new at the same price.

Penny does find a nice-looking vase, but it's a bit too pricey, so she decides to leave it.

Soon after that, you both decide to go and get some lunch at a cafe.

Over lunch, Penny asks you how uni's going.

You sigh. "Well, I like my classes, and I like what I'm studying - and I'm managing to keep on top of deadlines - sort of…"

"How about the other stuff?" asks Penny. "I remember you saying that your roommates weren't exactly - understanding."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "You'd be right."

Penny leans slightly forward, a worried look on her face. "What's going on, exactly?"

"Well, they're forever hosting parties. Loud ones, too. Seriously, like, the neighbours threatened to file a noise complaint. And this is when I'm supposed to be sleeping! Then, because I'm so tired from uni and socialising, and then losing sleep because of their obnoxious partying, I legitimately can't do stuff like my laundry, or the washing-up, so the apartment's now littered with dirty laundry and dishes. Then they have the nerve to tell me to pull my own weight! I literally warned them before we all moved in together that I was autistic, and so I might need help with that sort of thing if I start to burn out, you know?"

"Gosh," mutters Penny, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I had no idea. I should've thought to ask earlier."

"You don't have to be sorry," you reply, suddenly realising what an awkward position you've accidentally put Penny into. "I shouldn't have ranted so much. And I mean, it's not all bad-"

"Hey." Penny cuts you off. "Look at me. It's not your fault, okay? If anything, it's mine, for not giving you a chance to speak up earlier. You shouldn't have to deal with that sort of stuff, especially when you need to rest."

"I guess it is kind of my fault," you admit. "I didn't want to tell the uni that I'm autistic. I felt like it would - I - I don't know. I guess I just didn't want to be seen as different, you know? Like I was in school."

"You felt like the other kids treated you different?" asks Penny.

You nod. "Yeah. And I didn't want that to happen again."

Penny doesn't reply. She seems to be wrapped up in her own thoughts, so you try to wrap yourself in yours, too.

"Careful you don't pull our dishes off the table," says Penny suddenly.

You're so surprised by this that you start giggling - and then blush when you realise that you've been pulling at the tablecloth. Penny's laughter breaks the awkward silence, which makes you feel a bit better.

"You sound like such a mum, you know," you tease.

"I am a mom," replies Penny, chuckling. Then, looking over, she adds, "I think they're going to want us out of here, now."

"Wha-" Then you realise that you've both finished eating. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, we should probably get going."

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

"Right, Y/N, you're the skincare expert," Penny says, as you pull up.

"I'm not that good," you protest. "I mean, I know the basics, but I have no idea how to set up a spa night."

Penny chuckles. "Then let's call it our own take. Now, what are the basics?"

"Er, if I remember right, it's exfoliant, moisturiser, primer, cleanser - not in that order, of course…"

Penny holds up a bottle. "Serum?"

You shrug. "I guess." Then you have a brainwave. "Oh! Face masks, of course."

Penny laughs when she sees all the different types of face mask there are. "How do you know which one to go for?"

"I was thinking the exact same thing!"

You and Penny don't talk about the roommate situation while shopping for skincare, and while you appreciate that Penny probably wants to keep the rest of this day out a light-hearted one, you can't help feeling like you overshared a bit too much.

While you're driving home, after paying for your stuff, however, Penny turns to you, and says: "You know, I've been thinking about the roommate situation, and - you don't have to agree, of course, but I was wondering if you'd maybe like to move in with me and Amelia. We've got a spare room, the house isn't too far from your college, and I promise the neighbourhood is a lot quieter than what you're putting up with right now."

Your heart immediately jumps into your throat, which consequently tightens. Penny's prepared to have me move in with her?

"I'd love to," you reply, your voice a little thick. But then you realise. "But - surely - will Amelia mind?"

"I don't think she'd mind," replies Penny. "Anyway, she isn't really in the house much now. But you can talk with her, if you want."

"And what about things like laundry, and cooking, and stuff? I'm not very good at remembering those…"

Penny laughs. "You seriously think that'd be a dealbreaker?"

You're surprised at this reaction. "My roommates get super mad at me whenever I don't clean up their mess."

"Well, I'm not your roommates, and I'm fine with helping you remember to do your laundry - and doing it for you if you forget. For dinner, Amelia and I don't really eat together, so you're pretty much fine to just eat when you get hungry."

"Well - I really don't know what to say," you remark. "You're sure, though? About me living with you?"

Penny just smiles. "If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have offered, sweetie."

"Well, in that case, I just want to make sure Amelia's fine with it. If she is, I guess I move in."

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

To both yours and Penny's surprise, Amelia's waiting for you at the house.

"Amelia?" Penny goes over to her. "Is everything okay?"

Amelia sighs. "Riley got sick, so the sleepover was cancelled. And I couldn't find the spare key."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie. You should've called. I'd have come home sooner if I'd known. Have you had dinner?"

Amelia nods. "Yeah. At the diner."

"Well, Y/N and I haven't had dinner yet, so we're going to get some now. I know you just ate, but do you want anything?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

Once you're all inside the house, Amelia turns to you. "Hi, Y/N. You staying to dinner?"

You nod, smiling shyly. "Yeah. If that's okay with you, I mean."

Amelia nods. "It's fine by me." Then she spots the shopping bags. "What did you buy?"

You let out a nervous giggle. "Er, it's skincare. Penny and I were planning to - er, have a spa night. If-"

Amelia giggles. "It's fine by me." Then she turns back to Penny. "I'm gonna go do my homework now. I got a lot of it, and it's all in for tomorrow."

"Looks like schools haven't changed much," you remark, which makes Penny laugh.

"They sure haven't."

But then you remember, and hastily call, "Hey, Amelia, could you wait a minute?"

"Yeah, sure."

But then you can't find the words to ask her. Fortunately, after you give her a look, Penny understands, and adds, "Y/N and I have something we'd like to talk to you about."

"What's it about?"

Again, you can't find the words to say it, so you leave it to Penny.

"Would you mind if Y/N moved in with us? She's been having a hard time where she's staying, roommates partying late at night, and all sorts, and so she hasn't really been able to get a break."

Amelia doesn't even hesitate. "Yeah, sure. That's fine by me." Then she goes upstairs.

You stare at Penny in surprise. "She didn't even bat an eye!"

Penny just smiles. "So, are you going to move in?"

You nod. "Yes, absolutely. - Oh, but - when would I pack up and move? I don't have that many things, but I will have to notify uni, get the paperwork done, arrange transportation…"

"We'll sort that out tomorrow," replies Penny. "For now, let's just have our dinner, and then enjoy our spa night."

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

Penny's better than her word. The next day, after you've had breakfast (Penny insisted that you stay the night), Penny takes you back to the uni accommodation.

You're kind of nervous on the drive yet, even though you know that your roommates will probably be out shopping or something. You're not even sure why your nervous. After all, it's not like you have to be in class, either. It is a Sunday, after all.

It's only when you open your apartment door, that you realise why you were nervous.

The place is a tip.

And a lot of it's your mess. Your mess, that you were supposed to be cleaning up, on Saturday.

"I'm so, so sorry," you gasp, your cheeks burning. "I'd completely forgotten - I was supposed to clean it up yesterday - my roommates are going to be livid when they see this…"

Penny just chuckles. "It's not that bad, hon. Let's just pack an overnight bag plus a few extra bits of stuff for now, and move the bulk of your stuff next week, when I can get some help from Pete."

You breathe a sigh of relief - before remembering your roommates. "Oh - but what about my roommates?"

Penny takes a quick look around. "Well, I don't see any food here, so I think you can just bundle your stuff into some carrier bags, and we'll deal with it at my place."

"Ok." You're pretty happy with that idea, mostly because it means you won't have to deal with your roommates for a while longer. "Actually, I was wondering if we could, you know, pack the light stuff, like clothes and toiletries, and move it out over the next week or so? I'm just a bit worried that the others might accidentally take my stuff, 'cause I forgot to label it."

"That's a good idea," replies Penny. "It also means that we might not need Pete's help next week," she adds, under her breath. You have to hide your smile at the disappointment in her tone.

"Of course," continues Penny, this time more audibly, "we could have asked Jake to help. I'm sure he'd be very happy to."

Now it's her turn to hide a smile at your blushing.

"Shut up," you mumble, trying to hide the grin that's somehow appeared on your face. "I'll - er - just - grab a few things for now, and come back for anything else later."

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

"Hey, pretty girl!"

Smiling as you recognise Jake's voice, you turn around to face him. "Hi."

He returns your smile. "How was your week, honey?"

Your heart jumps into your throat at his question. "Oh, uh… it was good, I guess? Uh - how was yours?"

"It was okay," replies Jake, leaning a little further forward, "but I missed you, darlin'."

You turn away so he doesn't see you blush. "No, you didn't."

"Oh, but I did."

Normally, with your poor social skills, you'd pass it off as flirting. It wouldn't be exactly out character for him, after all.

But something in his tone makes you turn around, and look at him in surprise. It sounds like he actually means what he's saying. That he missed you.

"Uh-"

Jake cuts you off before you can finish. "I'll have a Jack and Coke, by the way."

"Oh - uh, sure…" You turn to get it for him, secretly feeling a bit hurt at his sudden abruptness. Maybe you misread.

But he still manages a small smile as you hand him his drink. "Thanks, hon. See you around."

And then he's gone, before you can reply.

As the evening wears on, your eyes keep turning in Jake's direction, so much so that you accidentally forget to give someone their drink - twice.

And then you see Jimmy grinning at you. "He likes you, you know," he says suddenly.

You blush. "Shush! He'll hear you."

Jimmy shrugs. "So? It's pretty obvious. Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?"

"It's your imagination," you reply, rather shortly. "I'm not pretty enough to attract attention, especially from him."

Jimmy just smiles. "Oh, you'd be surprised."

You shake your head, trying to brush it off, but deep down, you have a feeling that he's right. And you're not really sure how to feel about that.

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Part 3

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

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something