codenamefalcon

[codenamefalcon]

Anybody who hates on Sam Wilson is not a true Marvel fan.

[codenamefalcon]

does reposting a fic from my old and deactivated blog count as plagiarism 😭

[codenamefalcon]

ᝰ MAIN MASTERLIST

☆ marvel masterlist

☆ dc masterlist

[codenamefalcon]

Thunderbolts (2025) | dir. Jake Schreier

[codenamefalcon]

⟢ Let this serve as the reminder that I am not responsible for the media you consume! All of my works will be tagged with the proper content warnings, and if you choose to either ignore them or not read them, that’s not on me. However, if you feel as if I haven’t properly tagged something, please let me know!

KEY: ♯ Angst / ⚠︎ Suggestive/18+ / 𝜗𝜚 Fluff

⟢ JOAQUÍN TORRES

Untitled ⚠︎ ⌇Calling him bro after making out. Picture this 𝜗𝜚 [ coming soon ] ⌇ The four times Joaquín knew he could treat you better, and the one time you let him. SPARK TO FLAME ⚠︎ ⌇ You’d been toeing the line between friendship and something more with Joaquín since you’d met him, but neither of you ever acted on it. However, all that tension's gotta come out eventually...

⟢ BUCKY BARNES

[ coming soon… ]

⟢ ROBERT REYNOLDS

[ coming soon… ]

© CODENAMEFALCON you do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work on any other platform. I do not give you permission to use any of my work for anything related to AI.

[codenamefalcon]

⟢ Let this serve as the reminder that I am not responsible for the media you consume! All of my works will be tagged with the proper content warnings, and if you choose to either ignore them or not read them, that’s not on me. However, if you feel as if I haven’t properly tagged something, please let me know!

KEY: ♯ Angst / ⚠︎ Suggestive/18+ / 𝜗𝜚 Fluff

⟢ CLARK KENT

Places We Were Made 𝜗𝜚 ♯ ⚠︎ One | Two | Three ⌇Smallville will always be Clark’s home. It was where he was raised. It was where his parents were. It was where you were. During one week long visit, he finally decides to brave the leap from friendship to something more with you, but something gets in the way. Fortunately for Clark, he’s dedicated to proving just how much you mean to him, and you’re a sucker for a trip down memory lane.

© CODENAMEFALCON you do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work on any other platform. I do not give you permission to use any of my work for anything related to AI.

[codenamefalcon]

danny ramirez , instagram .

[codenamefalcon]

01. PLACES WE WERE MADE

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.6k Chapter Summary: No matter the distance, no matter the amount of time, no matter the stream of connection, you could never forget Clark even if you wanted to. But now he’s back, and he’s picking you up for dinner with his parents. Warnings: a little unedited, I used the Beanery from Smallville the show but in this series it doesn't suck, lmk if I missed anything! Note: I am of the many who saw Superman last week and immediately started writing. this is going to be a mini series of sorts so i hope you like it :)

Most people your age dreamt of getting out of Smallville, of finding their way to a big city where they could live their life to the fullest, but you? You loved it here. It was your home, your safety, the place you’d grown up, the source of all of your happiest memories. While others detested the closeness of the small town, you saw the beauty in how tight-knit everyone was. While they dreamt of skyscrapers and chain coffee shops, you reveled in the open sky and familiarity of the Beanery.

Though if you were being honest, the one downside to staying in the rural town was how limited the dating pool was. Everyone your age was either already married, had dated one of your friends, or was someone you had already gone on a failed date or two with. It didn’t help that any guy you crossed paths with was always unknowingly in competition with someone who had left Smallville years ago, and no one ever came even remotely close to him.

“Mornin’ sweetpea,” Martha sweetly greets you as she hovers near your seat, coffee cup and to-go sack in hand, “You workin’ today?”

“No, ma’am,” You give her a polite and warm smile, “I’m off for the next week.”

“Oh, are you goin’ on a little vacation,” She asks, nothing but sincerity and gentle kindness in her voice, “You deserve one after all those hours you work.”

“No vacation,” You shake your head with an light chuckle, “I’m just going to stay home and relax. Might try and fix up some things around the house that need to be done.”

You watch as something flickers in her eyes, almost like you can see the lightbulb lighting up with an idea so bright it shines throughout the entire shop. The coy smile that tugs at the corners of her lips is enough to tell you that she had thought of something, and whatever it was, you knew you wouldn’t be able to say no. You could never say to the Kent’s, not after everything they’ve done for you.

“If you aren’t busy this evenin’, you should come to the house for supper,” She starts off, though you can sense the subtle traces of some unspoken agenda, “Clark is in town, and I know he’d like to see ya.”

There it is.

The mention of her son sends an instant wave of warmth to your cheeks, a feeling of familiarity and comfort blossoming in your chest at the idea of seeing Clark again. It’s been so long since the two of you had last spoken, and even longer since you had last seen him, but the way you felt whenever he was brought up never swayed. Ever since the two of you were young, he brought out a feeling that you’d spent the better part of your days chasing after, yet you’ve never been able to replicate it with anyone else.

“I’ll be there,” You nod with finality, hoping she doesn’t notice the way your voice nearly trembles with nerves.

“Oh, good,” She gushes, delicately grasping your hand that’s on the table and giving it a squeeze, “I’ll send one of the boys to come pick ya up at five.”

You knew better than to argue against her, so you nod in agreement before she bids you goodbye and is out the door. The second she leaves, your nerves hit you in full force, and you’re sending panicked texts to your friends that they were having to decode as they fly in. They were trying to calm you down, telling you that you still had an entire day ahead of you to fill with distractions until the time came, but their attempts were practically fruitless. You were freaking out.

When you make it back to your house, you quickly began tearing through your closet in search of the appropriate outfit for dinner at the Kent’s. Of course, you weren’t going to wear anything too over the top, but you didn’t want to dress too plainly, either. Not if Clark was going to be there. With the help of your friends and a two hour long group FaceTime, you finally settled on something that was suitable and checked off your boxes. However, that still left you with nearly five hours to yourself, and a room full of clothes to put back on hangers.

“Are you sure this looks okay,” You ask as you twirl in front of the camera, “It’s not too boring?”

“Girl, you look great,” Mandy, the unfortunate recipient of yet another panicked call, reassures with a playful eye roll, “Those jeans make your ass look phenomenal. I wouldn’t be surprised if Clark took you up to his teenage boy bedroom and fu–”

“Oh my god,” You cut her off with a shriek, “Calm down, Amanda! That’s his parents' house.”

“So, you’re saying if his parents weren’t there,” She trails off into an amused laugh, ignoring the pointed glare you’re throwing her way, “All jokes, all jokes. My point is, you look fuckin’ good, you always do. That farm boy won’t know what hit him.”

“He’s been living in Metropolis for a while now,” You casually remind her, “He’s not really a farm boy anymore, is he?”

“Oh, please,” She lightly scoffs, “Clark Kent will always be a farm boy.”

You were trying to make sure that you had all of your stuff gathered in your bag, and the pie you had made was still warm and ready to take with you. It was nearing five, and you wanted to be sure that you were ready to go out the door the moment you heard the noticeable rumble of their truck. Of course, it was because you wanted to be punctual, and not because you wanted to see the Kent’s only son. That wasn’t it at all…

The sound of your doorbell ringing breaks your string of focus, which was you picking at your fingernails, and it makes your throat dry from nerves. You wipe your shaky hands off on the material of your jeans before you rise to your feet and make your way to the door. You contemplate peeking through the small hole in the door, but ultimately decide not to let yourself have the few extra seconds to stew in your own thoughts before you tug the door open.

“Clark,” You squeakily greet, ears burning and heat crawling up your neck at the sight of him.

Deep down, you knew it was him Martha was going to send to pick you up, but there wasn’t enough mental preparation in the world to ready you for the man in front of you. Clark had always been a taller, muscular boy, even in his youth, but now? Now he was huge. Not even with the large flannel covering his frame could hide how broad his shoulders were, how big his arms had gotten, how toned his chest was. And his hair? His curls were slightly mussed, almost as if he had run his hands through them over and over, but it looked good. He looked good.

If it weren’t for your grip on the frame of the door, you’re certain your knees might have given out.

“Hi,” He calls out, the sound of your name falling from his lips making your head spin, “Long time, no see.”

Deep dimples indented his cheeks in a way that throws you back to senior prom, Clark’s hands covering the expanse of your hips as he carefully sways to the music and listens to you ramble on about your dreams after high school. He didn’t stop smiling at you the entire night, and that was the first time you realized that maybe you felt something stronger for him. Maybe that feeling you’d spent years trying to tell yourself was normal was something much bigger than you thought. 

“Yeah, it has been a while,” You let out an airy chuckle, briefly glancing to the side to collect yourself, “Downsides of living in two completely different cities, you know?”

You don't miss the subtle downward twitch on his lips, or the way his shoulders fall just enough to be noticeable to you. No amount of separation would rid you of the ability to read Clark like you were always able to when you were in school. It was like second nature to you at this point. However, just because you could read him doesn’t mean you understood him, and you considered that to be one of your biggest faults.

“Yeah, I guess I should come back home more,” He sheepishly mumbles, his hand anxiously rubbing at the back of his neck as his ears turned a deep shade of red.

“Hey,” You instinctively reach out to take his hand in your own, sending a warm jolt from your fingertips to your toes, “The Daily Planet needs their best journalist, and Lord knows there's enough to cover up there. We’ll all be here waiting for you whenever you can make it back.”

The way Clark’s gaze softens as it slides between your eyes and your hands makes your stomach flip and your heart slam into your ribs. For as long as you can remember, he’s looked at you like that; Like you were the moon and he was the tide, ebbing and flowing at your will and call. For as long as you can remember, it confused you. It confused you because he’s always been the one to draw the line, to remind you how you were one of his most cherished friends, but friends don’t look at friends that way, do they?

“Ready to head to dinner?”

[codenamefalcon]

There is no stronger force than that of a girl’s desperation to write about her male hyperfixation.

[codenamefalcon]

[codenamefalcon]

Two stunning winners ✨️

[codenamefalcon]

im basically normal if you really dont think about it

[codenamefalcon]

welcome to my blog im annoying

[codenamefalcon]

UNTITLED / JOAQUÍN TORRES

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Word count: 498 Warnings: Kissing and NSFW insinuations ahead!! Note: enjoy this random blurb i wrote inspired by several of those ‘incorrect quote’ pages lol.

Joaquin’s hands were splayed across your hips, fingertips pressing into the skin as he drags you against him, his groans vibrating against your mouth. Your arms were looped behind his neck, your lips moving in tandem with his in a way that was making you dizzy and breathless, but you weren’t ready to pull away for a breath just yet. Not when you could feel him beneath you, could feel the pressure on the inside of your thigh. However, the two of you had gotten so wrapped up in the feeling of each other that you had forgotten you ordered food until you could hear the sound of someone knocking on the door.

At first, Joaquin doesn’t let you pull away. He slides his hand to the middle of your lower back and keeps you in his hold. You let him, for a few moments, but you didn’t want to keep the poor delivery guy waiting, and you definitely didn’t want your food to get cold. When you feel him relax underneath you, that's when you made your move to slip off of him. His protests echo around the room as you walk towards the door, quietly chuckling at him as you tug the door open.

Once you exchanged the food he had in his hand with the ten dollar bill in yours, you let the door shut behind you before eyeing Joaquin. He was still on the couch, the back of his bicep pressed against the cushion as he used his hand to prop up his head, and he had an overemphasized pout on his face. You shook your head in amusement while you walked right past him and into the kitchen. 

“Bro, come get your food,” You called out over your shoulder, pulling the boxes out of the paper bag while he forced himself off the couch.

“Don’t call me ‘bro’ after you had my tongue down your throat,” He playfully scoffs before he’s caging your body against the counter, his chin settling on your shoulder and his body flush against your own, “Take it back.”

Joaquin’s hand finds its way to your hip, his fingers slipping under the material of your shirt and toying with the waistband of your shorts. Your body shudders against his, soft breaths passing through your lips as goosebumps begin to rise on your skin. If it were any other time, you’d let yourself succumb to your desires, but the smell of your takeout was clouding your judgment. 

“Joaquin,” You whine, pressing your cheek against his as you shove his hand away, “Can we please eat first?”

In one swift movement, he turns you around so your back is pressed against the counter, and he’s grasping at your waist. A startled yelp bounces off the tiled floor, your eyes wide and pliant as he looks down at you with a look so intense it makes any coherent thought in your mind fly out the window.

“Oh, trust me. I plan to.”

[codenamefalcon]

who hasn’t this man hung out with 😭

[codenamefalcon]

Glen Powell and Danny Ramirez at the Wimbledon Tennis Championships - 07.05.25 - 📸 Karwai Tang

[codenamefalcon]

ROBERT 'BOB' REYNOLDS THUNDERBOLTS (2025)