#Danny Ramirez fanfic

[eternalsams]

Hello I really like your work!

Could I maybe make a request about the reader having anxiety and Fanboy dropping everything to go comfort the reader (who they’ve both secretly had a thing for each other) lots of fluff! Lol

OMG yes this is so cute!! Sorry it took so long, you probably don't even remember sending me this ask, but I have not forgotten!

Call me ⇴ M.Garcia

pairing: Mickey Garcia x gn!reader

summary: when things get rough, you know exactly who you have to call.

content/warnings: anxiety, panic attack, fluff, final exams (that should be a proper warning)

word count: 1.3k

a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration.

masterlist

You smiled at the picture on your phone, Mickey's smile illuminating the screen. He'd sent you a text just before leaving the locker room and joining his friends up in the sky. His goofy face always managed to stretch a smile onto your lips. You sent him an emoji blowing a kiss even though you knew he would only see it in a few hours when he'll be back on the ground. You put down your phone on your desk face down and looked back at your laptop, your smile fading quickly. You needed to study.

You managed to learn a good part of your subject before you heard your phone vibrate. You looked at the window and saw that the sun was now high in the sky. You sighed and answered your best friend. "Hey, Mickey!" You smiled, happy to get this break in your study session. "Hey! Did you see the picture I sent you?" He immediately asked. You chuckled and rubbed your forehead. "Yes, Mickey, I saw it. I even texted you back, didn't you see?" You could hear men voices behind him and figured out he was still in the locker room. The sound of his voice became a bit more distant, surely from the fact he put down his phone to change clothes. "Nah, sorry. I didn't check my messages, I immediately called you when we were dismissed." Wolf whistles were heard on the other end but Mickey was quick to make them stop with an insult.

You could hear him shuffle and then his voice got really close to the phone, as if he removed the speaker. "How's studying?" He asked, his tone way calmer now. You sighed and leaned back in your chair. "Boring." He chuckled and you heard him close his locker. "Yeah, I figured. Do you want me to come over and clear your mind?" You looked back at your laptop and scooted closer to it. "Nah, I'm good. I'm gonna study some more, I'll let you know if I need anything." He didn't say anything but you didn't need him to, you already knew how he felt about how hard you were on yourself about those exams. "I'm fine, Mickey. I hope you had fun today." You told him before he could even scold you. You heard him slightly sigh and could almost hear the smile stretching his lips as he answered you. "Take care, I love you." You smiled and made a kissing sound right to the phone. "Love you too, Fanboy." He groaned at the callsign. "Don't call me that!" You laughed some more before hanging up and turning off the sound on your phone. You put it back down and focused on your laptop.

Reading again and again the same words until they were engraved in your brain. You only took a quick pause to make yourself a tea to drink as you read the same words all over again. You didn't even notice the sun starting to go down until your stomach asked for food. You leaned back in your chair to stretch your muscles and glanced at the window, your eyes widening as you notice how late it must already be. You checked your phone and was horrified to see it was already 5 in the afternoon. You had barely done anything of your day and the final exams were coming soon. "No, no, no..." You closed your lesson and opened another one, if you couldn't learn everything by heart, you at least wanted to know the basics of each of them.

Your heart started beating faster as you read the lesson you wrote months ago in class. Why didn't you study sooner? Breathing through your nose turned out to be quite difficult as your lungs asked for more and more oxygen. Your hands started trembling as you tried to go through your lesson. You shook them firmly to get rid of the tremble but nothing seemed to help you at the moment. Tears blurred your sight and burned your eyes but you couldn't allow yourself to take the time to properly cry when those exams would determine if you can get a job or not. So you simply let the tears roll down your cheeks as you tried to read your lesson, holding your shaking hands and breathing heavily through your mouth. The first sob broke through your focus and you felt your chest clenching, squeezing your heart in your ribcage and feeling like you might die from suffocation. You brought a hand to your chest and whined in pain. You didn't know what was happening but you knew what to do.

You tentatively grabbed your phone and Mickey's warm smile greeted you on your lock screen. You searched for his contact and immediately put on the speaker, not trusting your hand to hold the phone during the call. It rang one. Two. Three times. "Hello?" His voice warmed your heart. You could hear voices behind him and music, sign that he was at the Hard Deck with his friends "Mickey?" Your shaking voice must have alarmed him cause you heard him excuse himself to his friends and the music faded behind him. "What's wrong?" He sounded so serious. "I..I don't know what's happening... I can't... I can't breathe." You quietly sobbed. "I'm on my way, don't move and try to slow your breathing." You tried to protest but he had already hung up on you. Your phone turned off automatically and you were once again alone with the bloody laptop.

Not even twenty minutes later, you heard your front door open after Mickey used the spare key you gave him a few months ago. He ran to you and wrapped you in his arms as you cried some more, feeling safer than ever against him. He rocked you against his chest, stroking comfortably your hair and murmuring sweet nothings to calm you down. You both let yourselves fall on the floor but he never let you go, holding you close to him. "It's okay, you're okay. Breathe with me, Angel." He took a big breath through his nose and waited for you to do the same. He then Breathed out through his mouth, watching attentively as you did the same, your exhale way shakier than his. "You're okay, you're with me." He kept rocking you until you completely calmed down. More tears rolled down your cheeks to soak Mickey's shirt but he really couldn't care less.

It felt like forever until you were both laying on the floor of your apartment, your gaze glued to the ceiling as his eyes couldn't leave your face. "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked, almost in a whisper not to startle you. You swallowed and turned to him completely, resting your weight on your hip. "The exams. I'm so scared I'm gonna fail." Mickey immediately sighed at your answer and new teras threatened to spill but he quickly turned his body to you and gently grabbed your face to wipe your tears. "You're too hard on yourself, Angel." You pursed your lips and looked away as he scooted closer to you, opening his arms for you to snuggle in close. You quietly cried against his chest as he stroked your back soothingly. "Angel?" He called, stopping his movements on your back. "Hmm?" You answer, staying snuggled in his shirt. "Look at me, please." You leaned back and looked up at him, meeting his brown eyes. He softly smiled and closed the distance between you two, pressing a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips. Your eyes widened and you felt your face heat up as he looked back into yours eyes. "You're gonna nail it, I'm sure. You're the smartest person I know, no exam should scare you." He then kissed your forehead and tenderly tucked his chin on top of your head.

[tigerlillyyy]

Imagine being one of the pilots that trained the cast for the F-18

Just Fluff

“What exactly are we doing here? New op meeting?” My wingman, Keller asked from my left as we turned the corner.

“Not sure, I was just told we had to show up.” I walked through the door as Keller held it open for me.

“What the hell is going on?” Keller said as the door closed behind him, taking in the room full of people.

I scanned the room searching for a familiar face and coming up short. Keller lightly hit my shoulder and motioned to a pair of empty chairs. We took our seats and had small talk about weekend plans when I absentmindedly looked across the room only to be met by a pair of brown eyes that quickly looked away, I continued to watch as he shyly smiled.

“Keller.” I smacked his shoulder a bit too hard as I turned to look at him, “Be cool. Be cool.”

“What? What happened?” He looked around quickly.

“You remember last year when Falcon and The Winter Soldier premiered and I said that Torres is So Fine!”

“I do, yeah.” Keller looked at me confused as to why I was bringing this up now “I think your exact words were then “scrump-dilly-icious”, then the lyrics ‘Come a little closer, let me taste your smile’”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I said quickly trying to move past my fangirl moment and looking down at my phone as I spoke to not make it obvious, “is that him at your 1 o’clock?”

——————

The next few weeks where hectic with signing paperwork, meeting the cast, flight training, and underwater training.

“You’re telling me that the next Falcon was afraid of flying?” I asked as I looked up the ladder of my jet as Danny unbuckled his straps after our first flight.

“It was too big of an opportunity.” He said as he climbed out and stepped on the ladder, “I figured I’d just work through it.”

“And I’m not the next Falcon.” He flashed one of his bright smiles at me as he hopped down to stand next to me.

“Sam Wilson told you to keep his wings, that sounds pretty self explanatory.” I smiled as I looked up at him.

“Well I haven’t gotten the call yet.” He accidentally bumped by shoulder with his as we walked back inside the hanger.

—————

Months later.

“Danny!” Glen waved his hand in-front of Danny’s face.

“I’m listening.” Danny ripped his gaze from where I stood across the room talking excitedly on my phone.

“What did I just ask you?” Glen asked.

“Uh what movie we’re watching.” Danny said to him.

“Just ask her out already!” Miles threw a piece of his protein bar at his chest from the couch next to him.

“What? Who?” Danny looked around to his friends.

“Who?” Monica teased him shaking his shoulder, “it’s obvious!”

“I can’t ask out the really pretty, badass fighter pilot. She’ll say no.” Danny looked down.

“Why would she say no?” Keller asked.

“Oooo What do you know?” Monica asked him, everyone’s attention now on Keller.

“I’m just saying sometimes things go differently than you’d expect.” Keller said to Danny as I approached.

“What did I miss?” I said as I plopped down in the middle of the couch next to Monica and Danny.

“Nothing important. Yet.” Miles said, earning laughs from the group.

The night went on as a marvel movie played in the background now muted.

“Hey, y/n.” Keller called me as he looked to the tv screen, “remember what you said when you saw Danny here for the first time on Falcon and the Winter Soldier?”

“Oh my god.” I said as everyone turned to look at me, “yeah yeah. I very clearly remember saying shut the fuck up, Keller.” I laughed in embarrassment as everyone else joined in.

I leaned back on the couch covering my face with my hand, not wanting to look to my left where Danny was doing the exact same thing as everyone continued to laugh.

“I’m leaving.” I went to get up but was quickly pushed down by Monica’s hand on my shoulder.

“No no. We’re leaving.” She said as everyone picked up their drink and walked away, Miles stood up and pointed at Danny mouthing “you’ve got this.”

“Wow they just throw us into the fire don’t they?” I chuckled, looking at him.

“Yeah I think they’ve had enough of me pining over you.” He let out a nervous chuckle.

“You pining over me?” I turned on the couch to face him.

“Since day one, and I saw you walk through the door.” He admitted, smiling at his lap then looking up up to meet my eyes.

“Well as you heard, Keller won’t let me forget my fangirl moment.” I laughed as I looked down.

“Well now I wanna hear this.” He laughed, now turning in his seat on the couch to face me, his knee touching mine.

“I may have,” I looked away from him scanning the room for some courage as I spoke with a big smile, “gone on about how cute I thought you were and how you have a very nice smile.”

Danny let out a shy laugh.

“I may be summarizing here. We’ll never know!” I laughed.

“And Glen kept laughing at me because I’d practically dive to get my phone whenever I got a notification because was hoping it was you.”

“I may have been doing the same thing.” I admitted.

“Yeah they think I should just ask you out already.” He smiled, a bit more confident now after what he had admitted.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 1500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Look, I know this would never happen and the logistics are a nightmare. But this is fic and I do what I want. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for reading this over! And thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for the equipment line. Pure genius, as usual!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia Masterlist

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" I whisper, looking back over my shoulder like I expected someone to be there, following us. 

Mickey shrugs. "Captain Mitchell brings his girlfriend all the time."

"Yeah, but he's Maverick. He can do whatever he wants."

My boyfriend, who thinks he's so funny, chuckles, his fingers laced between my own as he pulls my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "You've been asking me for damn near a year to see the planes I fly. You really gonna back out now?"

"I don't want to be arrested."

Mickey laughs. "You won't be. Kicked off base, maybe."

"Ok, maybe we should go back to the bar, Mick."

He spins me around, pushing my back against the hanger wall, the metal cool on my back as he presses his body to mine, his fingers gently tipping my chin up to face him. His lips are soft on mine, a slight neediness behind them before he pulls back. "Do you trust me?"

I sigh, my fingers trying to grasp the tight fabric of his uniform as I pull him back down towards me. "With my life."

He kisses me softly again before pushing away from the wall, offering me his arm. I take it, my cheeks warming under his smile as he guides me out of the building and onto the tarmac. 

I gasp, fighter jets all in a neat line glisten in the setting sun, each of them just as powerful as the next. They make me feel small but not in a bad way. More like, I'm in awe of their presence and the skill it takes to master one. 

"Which one is yours?" 

"It's not really mine. They belong to the Navy."

I punch his arm lightly. "You know what I mean."

He leads me over to a jet a few down from the front and tells me all about it. What all of the markings mean, what it's made of, how fast it can go. His eyes light up, a proud smile always tugging at the corners of his lips as he continues talking. 

"Hey baby?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Can I see you in it?"

"You wanna see me in the jet?"

"Very much so."

"Alright. Wait here." Mick reaches up and pulls a ladder out from the side of the jet. He gives me a quick kiss and a wink before he ascends the stairs, opening the cockpit and lowering himself inside. He waves a hand to me, beckoning me to him.

"Come on up!"

I take a breath and ascend the narrow stairs, my hands slightly sweaty against the metal handrails. But then I'm at the top, looking down into Mick's upturned face, those espresso eyes waiting expectantly. 

"There's a lot of buttons."

He laughs, shoulders shaking with it as his smile makes me warm. "Yeah there are."

"Do you know what they all do?"

"Of course." He starts pointing and explaining each of the buttons, his face lighting up with each explanation. I watch him, the small movements he makes to point to another one of the thousand buttons on the console, a smile stretched across his face as he keeps glancing at me to make sure I'm paying attention. 

As if I could look anywhere else. 

"You look hot as fuck, Mick."

He stops mid sentence, the tips of his ears heating up. "What?" 

"You're so fucking hot." I glance around and see no one. We're completely alone on the strip. "Sit back."

He does as I ask, his eyebrows raised in silent question. But as I lower myself carefully down onto his lap, his eyes darken, hands settling on my hips. 

"What are you doing, babe?" He asks, his eyes darting down to my lips. 

I scratch my nails lightly at the back of his head, loving the feel of his shaved cut under them. I kiss him, slowly moving down his neck, my hips moving of their own accord. 

"I need you, Mick."

He pants in my ear before pushing me a little to get me to sit up, making sure I'm looking at him. "This is a serious piece of equipment, babe."

"You're a serious piece of equipment."

His eyes glance down at my lips and for a moment we don't move, me waiting for him to accept or say no. 

"Fuck it." He grips the back of my head, pulling me to him, the hand that had been on my hip now sliding up my bare thigh. I moan into his mouth when his fingers brush against my wet cunt. 

"Fuck, babe you're so wet."

"Watching my extremely hot boyfriend sit in his fighter jet while he Ted Talks me about it with giddy excitement really turns me on." 

"You're such a slut." He kisses me, sliding his fingers under my panties and I gasp at his touch. 

"Only for you."

He inserts a finger and then another, guiding my hips down on them as I moan. But it's not what I want. I grip his wrist and pull him from me, feeling my wetness on his fingers as they brush past my inner thigh. Sliding my hands down his chest, I kiss him again, my fingers fumbling with his belt, moving his zipper down and cupping him. He gasps into my mouth, hardening even more the longer I hold him. 

I push down the top of his boxers, gently pulling him out as he slaps against me. Our breaths are steaming up the windows, his soft whimpers filling the silence as I push my panties aside and line him up, sinking down onto him, my mouth hanging open as I stretch around him. We waste no time, my hips moving over him as he thrusts up into me, pulling his favorite sounds from me. He wraps his arms around my back, holding onto my shoulders as he thrusts faster, harder, and it's all I can do to hold on, one hand gripping his arm and the other splayed across the window. 

"Oh fuck, Mick! I'm gonna…" my orgasm comes on quick, my body tensing as I chant his name over and over, my hips rocking against his to get as much pleasure as I can. I see he's close, so I look down at him, meeting his dark gaze. 

"Come inside me, Lieutenant Garcia."

"Fuck!" Mick groans, whimpering as he spills inside of me, hips thrusting a few more erratic times, his breaths panting out across my face. Mick looks up at his girl, the last of the days sunlight on her face, sweaty and fucked out and he thinks he's never seen anyone so beautiful before. 

"You ok, Mick?"

"I love you."

"Of course you do. I just fucked you in your jet."

"No. I mean it. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met and you love me for me. I love you."

His eyes are bright and wide as he looks at me and it's then I realize that I love him too. I lean down to him, pressing my lips to his before cupping his cheek, pulling back just enough for him to see me. 

"I love you too, Mickey." 

—----

An hour later, we walk into the bar, Mick's arm around my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my temple as we walk up to his group of friends. They all greet us, shaking hands and cracking jokes. Only Bob seems to notice my slight limp, looking from me to Mick, the way he holds me close, his fingers playing with mine. When I look at Bob he winks, giving me a small smirk before taking a drink. When we pass by him later, Bob grabs Mick's wrist and pulls him closer. 

"I hope you cleaned up the jet when you were done. I don't want to fail inspection." 

My cheeks heat up, but then Mick is speaking quieter. "At least I made sure not to leave her panties behind, Bob."

My mouth falls open as I look at Bob, whose cheeks are warming, his ears turning pink. He just smirks and nods, lifting his glass to us. "Touché." 

-------

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[donottouchredbutton]

In a Heartbeat

joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc

4k words

she saves someone, and joaquin saves her.

moodboard

note: i wrote this with my oc in mind that i plan to write more about, but i wanted it to be read as a reader insert as well! let me know what you think :)

She had been living in Washington DC for a little over a year now. She moved there for grad school, and some of the excitement had yet to wear off still. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, with all of the good schools nearby and all of the things to do and learn in the capital. It seemed like a busy enough place to never be bored, which was exactly what she wanted. It really had seemed like a smart idea, especially since she hadn’t had any problems since moving there.

Until she did.

She was out with her roommate after classes had ended for the day, enjoying the warm spring day and simply happy to be people watching as they hung out. It had quickly become one of her favorite things since moving there, something she shared with her roommate, Jasmine. She was always glad she and Jazzy got along so well and liked spending time together, often spending time just being out and about like today. 

Jazzy was showing her a small outdoor shopping district just outside of a park. It must’ve been really popular because it was packed with people. People were out walking their dogs, parents were out shopping with their kids, couples and friends were on dates and lounging on the grassy areas. Music was coming from the open doors of one of the stores, loud enough to carry even as you walked away from it. Something smelled good, like fresh bread and cinnamon sugar, and she wanted to follow her nose to figure out where it was coming from. There was a warm breeze that made her shiver whenever they walked in the shade, so she pulled Jazzy away to make sure they stayed in the sun. A few kids ran past them playing tag. It made her smile, she hoped they were having fun. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed a bit of commotion going on. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it was progressively getting louder. From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one who had noticed as many of the people nearby were looking around as well. It continued to grow louder and louder until she spotted a large group of people running in their direction, all shouting and screaming to get away. A ways behind them, she spotted a group of big looking men in scary looking masks carrying scary looking weapons, all running after them with their weapons pointed forward. Before she could think about how cliche that sounded, she knew they had to get away first. Many people around them were coming to the same conclusion as they all began turning tail and running. She and Jazzy shared a look of understanding before following suit.

As everyone kept running away and the noise was getting louder, another noise caught her attention above all the commotion. She could just barely hear a small voice calling for help, but it was loud enough to get her to stop running. Her head whipped around trying to find whoever it was, wherever it was coming from. Her eyes landed on a little girl sitting on the ground holding a little boy, and even from her distance she could see they were crying.

“MOMMY!” the little girl kept shouting, tears running down her face as she tried to pull the little boy up with her. They had to be brother and sister. She sounded terrified.

She took off before she could think about what she was doing. She could vaguely hear Jazzy calling after her, trying to get her to turn around and come back, but she couldn’t. The only thing on her mind was getting to those kids before they could get hurt. She wouldn’t let that happen.

She slid to a stop and knelt down next to the kids when she got to them, unconcerned about the fact that she tore a hole in her jeans by doing so, nor the bruises and scrapes she no doubt would have on her knees either. The little girl, maybe seven or eight, kept pulling on her brother’s arm trying to get him to move, but he was sat on the ground firmly, bawling his eyes out and refusing to move. She knew he couldn’t have been older than three years old. 

She looked around for anyone who could have been their mother, anyone willing to help, but everyone was running in the opposite direction. She turned her head to see the group of men getting closer and closer, and they were gaining fast. She was the only one around.

“I need to get you out of here,” she said, turning back to the two kids, voice urgent. “I’ll get you back to your mom, I promise.”

She tried to pick up the little boy, who immediately started shouting and fighting when she did so. He was on the verge of a full-blown breakdown, determined to stay exactly where he was no matter what she did. 

“He won’t let anyone but mom pick him up,” the little girl cried, “but I don’t know where mommy is!”

Seeing how frightened they were broke her heart. There was no getting them to move if she couldn’t pick the little boy up, but she couldn’t just leave them. She wouldn’t. She didn’t know what to do, and she was struggling to come up with something fast enough. With another glance over her shoulder, she realized she was out of time. They were too close now, seconds away and coming right towards them. 

“Hold onto him, and don’t let go!” she ordered the girl. Once the girl did as she said, she grabbed both of the kids and held them to her chest, making sure neither of them would get hit as she awaited the inevitable first—and what she expected to be the final—blow to hit. 

She felt a strong gust of air rush over her head, and at the sound of a fight right behind her, she held on tighter to the kids in her arms. She knew this was it. In a heartbeat, it’d be finished. She’d be finished. 

“Are you okay?”

The voice was closer than she expected, making her jump, but it sounded genuinely concerned. Chancing a glance behind her, she was met with a pair of soft brown eyes. 

She looked past the man to see what was going on, only just noticing that the commotion had stopped, and she could see that the group of men were all lying on the ground unconscious with a man holding a shield standing above them. Everyone knew who Captain America was, but she never expected to come across him herself. Knowing that the kids would be safe now, she looked back to the man in front of her and was shocked to see he had a pair of wings on his back. The Falcon. They were positioned in a way that was meant to shield them from any danger. 

She finally looked back at the Falcon. His eyes hadn’t left her the entire time, and he stayed put in front of them, as if he wanted to make sure nothing could happen to them even with the threat gone. 

Instead of answering the man, she turned back to the kids in her arms. They were still crying and scared, she knew they would be, but at least she knew they would be safe now. She scanned over them for any injuries, and once she knew they were unharmed, she cupped the little girl’s face to get her attention. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay now. You’re safe,” she assured her, speaking softly to help her calm down a bit. She stroked her cheek to gently wipe away her tears. She felt her own heart beating out of her chest, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. “I’m gonna get you back to your mom now, okay? Let’s go find your mom.” 

She glanced back at the man behind her again, who still hadn’t moved, before she eased the kids up into standing. The weight of the situation was finally catching up to her, her head swimming as she tried her hardest to focus on getting the kids back to their mom before anything else. She kept looking between them and the man who saved them. Stuttering, she said, “I… I need-”

“MOMMY!” the little girl called, grabbing her brother’s hand and running to meet the woman who was running towards them. 

She watched as the older woman dropped to her knees to meet her children in an embrace, her own tears streaming down her face as she held her children to her chest. The woman began kissing all over their faces and on the tops of their heads, and the woman’s voice was just loud enough for her to hear her repeating my babies to the children in her arms.

She was walking towards the family before she knew what she was doing. Her knees were screaming at her causing her to limp slightly, but she didn’t care. She needed to make sure they would be okay. Once she was close enough, the woman looked up at her and a look of gratitude crossed her face. 

“Thank you,” the woman managed to say through her tears. “Thank you for protecting my babies.” For a moment, she thought the woman was talking to the Falcon, the one who actually had saved her kids, but the woman was looking at her. 

“You don’t…” she started, beginning to shake her head, but she knew it would be pointless. Instead, she said, “I’m just glad you and your kids are safe.” 

She watched them a few more moments before the woman gathered her kids up and hurried away from the scene. She couldn’t blame them, she wanted to do the same. 

She suddenly remembered the man who had saved them. The Falcon (she couldn’t get over it). She turned back towards him, and this time she really took him in. His wings had retracted back into his suit, thankfully, as they had been very distracting. He was tall without being towering. His skin looked warm and sun-kissed with sharp cheekbones that made her wonder what he looked like when he smiled. He had a head of short, curly black hair, and those soft brown eyes. Those eyes that were still watching, a strange gleam present that hadn’t been there before. 

She didn’t really know what to say, feeling awkward, but she didn’t need to. Before she could even thank him, he spoke instead.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. Something told her that he wouldn’t leave until he knew she was.

“I’m fine,” she finally answered. She didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not, but she still wasn’t able to focus on how she really felt. The kids were safe, their mother was safe, and as far as she was concerned, that’s all that mattered. And this man made sure of that. “Thank you.”

The man seemed to relax a bit at that, his shoulders losing some of their tension. He opened his mouth to say something else, but another voice cut in. 

“Torres! We gotta go, man!” 

It was Captain America who interrupted (which was something she never thought she’d experience), having just been talking with the police who she hadn’t noticed had arrived. They were hauling the men—masks gone and in handcuffs now—into the backs of the police cars. The hero was inspecting their weapons, clearly waiting for the other man—Torres, apparently—to join back up with him. Torres looked between the two of them, seeming conflicted. Before either of them could say anything, they were once again interrupted. 

The sound of Jazzy calling her name snapped her out of whatever was going on, and she turned to see her roommate running straight towards her. Before she could comprehend what was going on, Jazzy was grabbing her arm and pulling her away, determined to get them away from anything else that might happen. She looked back at the man, Torres, and called out another thank you! before she let her roommate lead her away from the scene. 

—

In truth, she didn’t think she would ever see him again. Why would she? He was The Falcon, Captain America’s partner and a superhero in his own right. He had to have saved countless people all the time. He probably wasn’t even in DC anymore. There was no way she would see him again. 

But then she did. 

She volunteered at a local elementary school, and today they were taking the fifth graders down to the veterans rehabilitation center. They liked to decorate the walls with pictures and bring flowers for the veterans, wanting to try to brighten their days a bit and thank them for their service while doing so, and she liked being part of it as well. She couldn’t imagine what some of them have gone through, but she would sometimes sit in on the group sessions to try to understand more. It was why she made sure to take the kids there at least once every couple weeks.

“It was so nice seeing you and the kids again, sunshine!” the kind lady at the front desk said as she was getting them ready to leave. It was a nickname she had quickly picked up since they started going there, and it always made her laugh.

“Of course, Laura!” she replied. “I’m just glad they like coming down here as much as I do.”

Laura chuckled lowly. “Your visits always make everyones day. They may not say it often, but they appreciate it. More than you know.”

She smiled softly at that. “We try our best. We just want to show our respect and try to brighten things up for everyone, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, hun. What you do with the kids and for everyone here, not many people would do it. We all appreciate everything you do around here. We appreciate you.”

She looked down bashfully at the older woman’s kind words. She never really knew what to say to that. Her eyes flicked back up to Laura. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small bin. “I know you’ve been wanting to try Jazzy’s brownies.”

The wide grin that appeared on Laura’s face was enough for one to form on her’s as well. She nearly snatched the bin out of her hand, causing her to laugh. “You spoil me, sunshine!”

The two shared a few more words before she checked the time, knowing she needed to leave soon if she didn’t want the bus to leave without her. She said goodbye to Laura with a promise to be back the next week, and the other woman jokingly promised to be ready for more treats. With a wave and another smile to her friend, she began making her way to the front doors. She was in high spirits as she was preparing to leave, paying no mind to the man she passed on her way out until he called out to her. 

“Hey, it’s you!”

She almost didn’t stop, but when she looked around the area and saw it was mostly void of people, she figured it was her he was trying to get the attention of. When she stopped and turned around, her eyes widened when they met the same soft brown ones she first saw just the other day. 

“It’s you,” she repeated, not knowing what to say.

For a moment, she wondered how she could even miss him. Sure, he wasn’t wearing his suit or his wings and seemed, therefore, much less intimidating–not that he seemed intimidating in the first place, but he did save her life, and there’s just something about meeting a superhero face to face that makes a person feel overly self-aware. Without the suit on, you wouldn’t even assume he was a superhero, though in her head she was kicking herself because of course that was the point. He just seemed so normal, and she felt like she could pay more attention now that her life wasn’t on the line. He wore a dark green jacket over a black shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses hanging from one of the pockets. His shoulders filled out his jacket well, subtly showing off his built but lean muscles. Part of her wished she could remember what they looked like in his suit when they were more noticeable, and she mentally kicked herself again for thinking that about a complete stranger. His dark curls were styled simply and looked soft to the touch, and she was sure they were. 

Those eyes, though. Unlike before, his soft eyes were looking at her in pleasant surprise rather than concern, his lips quirking up in what was almost a smile. But that weird gleam she saw before was still there, and if anything, it was much more apparent than before.

It took her a few more seconds to realize neither one of them had said anything, her eyes glancing off to the side as her mind raced for something to say. He must’ve realized the same thing because his eyes widened suddenly, taking a step toward her once he knew he had her attention. 

“Sorry, um,” he began, searching for his words, “I just didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad I did. How are you doing, after what happened?”

Her eyes widened slightly again, surprised by his words. “I-I’m doing fine,” she answered, but she wasn’t sure how much she believed herself. She added, “‘ve just been trying to get back to normal, is all.”

He seemed satisfied enough with her answer and started to nod, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

His words surprised her again. In a burst of confidence, she replied with, “Well, I did have someone to save me.”

His smile grew as he looked down sheepishly, and she thought she heard him say just doing my job under his breath. When he looked back up at her, she thought she liked seeing that gleam in his eyes, especially when he smiled. She thought happiness looked good on him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked gently, suddenly remembering where she still was. 

“Oh, I’m here to meet my partner,” he answered. “He helps out with the counseling sessions when he can. But I’ve got some information I need to discuss with Cap.”

Somehow, it didn’t surprise her to hear that about Captain America. In fact, it made her respect him even more for trying to help people on a more personal level, not just fighting as a superhero. Saving lives on all fronts, she was sure. But the way he talked about why he was there was just vague enough to pique her interest, and just telling enough for her to understand she shouldn’t pry. She was going to find a way to politely remove herself from the conversation, but he spoke again before she could.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, repeating her own question. He cringed at the way it came out, so he quickly added, “I just mean, this is the last place I expected to see you. Are you in the military?”

She shook her head, nearly chuckling. “No, I’m not. The school I volunteer at brings some of the older students down here every few weeks. We like to bring flowers and write cards, you know, to try to show our respect and appreciation. Try to brighten up people’s days where we can.”

“You do all this?” He asked, gesturing toward the decorations on the walls and the flowers here and there. His eyes had widened in surprise again, and it was her turn to look down bashfully this time. 

“Not just me. It’s the kids, mostly, but I like to help out.”

He looked impressed, and something about the look on his face and those damn eyes caused her face to heat up. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention. 

“Well, I can confidently say that I’m not the only one around here who loves seeing all of the notes and decorations,” he said softly, the smile on his face filling her with a sense of warmth she hadn’t felt before. “It’s amazing what you’ve been doing. We all appreciate what you do. And the kids, of course.”

Something told her that he was speaking more for himself than he was for everyone else, and somehow she knew that he meant it toward her directly. The thought made her smile.

His face suddenly got more serious, though, instantly making her feel nervous. “What you did the other day, with those two kids, too. That was amazing.”

That was not something she was expecting, and she definitely didn’t know how to respond to it. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down, suddenly feeling shy. “I did what anyone would do.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, really. You saved those kids. I may be the one with wings, but you’re the real hero. It was incredible.”

When she glanced back up at him, she saw that a small smile had reappeared on his lips, and somehow, it was enough to ease some of the tension in her shoulders. It was enough to comfort her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it made her feel seen in a way she never had. All with one look, which is what really surprised her. She knew deflecting would be useless, so she settled with telling him, barely loud enough for him to hear, “Thank you.” And she meant it more than he knew.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked one final time.

She wanted to laugh that he wouldn’t let it go so easily. “I am, or I will be. I promise,” she answered, and she knew she was telling the truth this time. “Besides, this wouldn’t be my first time in a situation like that, and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” Now that got a good reaction out of him, even though it was the truth.

“Speaking of the kids, though,” she said before he could think about it too much, checking the time again and realizing she’d officially run out of time, “I have to get going so I don’t get left behind.” She looked him over one more time, trying to memorize as much as she could, before she began to turn away. “It was nice to see you again, and to talk. And thank you, again, for saving me.”

His smile warmed her from the inside out. “If it meant getting to see you again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

She forced herself not to shudder before turning around. She had only made it a few more steps before he suddenly stopped her again. 

“Wait!” he called, almost too loudly for the quiet hallway. “I didn’t ever get your name!”

She wanted to kick herself again. How had they gone this entire conversation without learning each other’s names? She glanced back over her shoulder, seeing that he had barely moved from his spot. With a warm smile directed at him, she told him her name.

Another smile began to form on his face in return, and it looked like he repeated her name under his breath. Their eyes met a final time before he responded with his own. “I’m Joaquin. It was really nice to meet you, too.”

She turned around before he could catch the wide grin that was beginning to form on her face against her will and tried to rush out of there as subtly as she could. As she went, she could just hear him, Joaquin, repeat her name a second time, and even from where she was she could hear a smile in his tone. She left the building with a bounce in her step and a warm feeling in her chest. 

All because of the Falcon who saved her.

[tom-whore-dleston]

Home is Wherever I'm With You

Pairing ▹ roommate!Joaquin Torres x f. reader

This fic contains ▹ fluff, some angst, implied smut, idiots in love, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, smoking weed, hospitals, mention of gunshots, a lot of pancakes

Word Count ▹ 2k

Summary ▹ Oh, home, let me come home | Home is wherever I'm with you

Notes ▹ Finally got around to completing my submission for @the-slumberparty’s Across the Universe (week 4) challenge. This fic is inspired by this moodboard from an old sleepover. Feel free to listen to the playlist for extra vibes! This is unbeta'ed so I take full responsibility for all the errors. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊

You didn’t understand the phrase “home is where the heart is'' until you moved in with Joaquin Torres.

This living arrangement happened by chance, a chance that you were grateful to have stumbled upon. After deciding it was time for you to leave the nest, you found a place for rent that also had a few other roommates. One of them being Joaquin.

You met Joaquin and the other roommates before moving in with them. Luckily, you all hit it off right away and settled in fairly quickly. But you found yourself really close to Joaquin. He was the one roommate that had a similar schedule to yours. You both would wake up late in the morning before heading to work, and then come home in the darkest hours of the night. 

The first time you discovered how late Joaquin returned home from work was the night your friendship began. After coming home from a long day, you decided to treat yourself to a batch of pancakes. The rest of your roommates were heavy sleepers so you rarely disturbed them. Since you were occupied with the pancakes, you didn’t hear Joaquin come through the door. He waltzed into the kitchen upon smelling the pancakes and crept up behind you. 

“I bet those would taste amazing with bananas,” Joaquin commented nonchalantly. You whipped your head around, swatting the spatula in his direction and accidentally coating his nose with batter.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” You gasped, attempting to clean the mess from his face. “I thought you were an intruder. I didn’t mean to hurt you…or cover you in pancake batter.”

Joaquin snickered. “Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt me at all. But I admire your self defense skills. I think that will give me motivation to keep the bathroom clean.”

You joined in his laughter. “I think I made enough for you if you’d like some pancakes. You might have to slice your own bananas, though.” 

With that, you and your roommate shared the short stacks while getting to know one another better. This ritual of late night snacks after work persisted until the conversations grew louder to the point of accidentally waking one of your other roommates. Since that incident, you and Joaquin decided it would be best to meet one another at the 24 hour diner down the street. 

Over time, your roommates moved out one by one until you and Joaquin were left to hold down the fort. The two of you living together consisted of movie binges on the weekends, checking out the monthly farmer’s market, dancing while cleaning the perimeter of the house, and taking walks along your street during sunset. Slowly, but surely, you were falling deeply in love with Joaquin. 

You knew you had strong feelings for him when you both decided to buy a bookshelf for your ever growing book collection. While building the bookshelf, you jammed the hammer against your finger, causing you to shriek in pain and the rest of your body to go numb. All you remembered before blacking out was your roommate rushing to your side and carrying you out the house bridal style. A few hours later, you woke up in the hospital with a cast wrapped around your finger and a relieved Joaquin holding a bouquet of roses and baby's breaths. The smell of the flowers and his sweet, handsome face instantly brought you comfort.

“Shouldn’t you be at work right now?” You asked upon noticing the time on your bedside.

“I told Sam what happened and he ordered that I stay here with you.” You gave him a sad look, feeling bad that your clumsiness caused him to miss out at work. Joaquin smiled, patting your hand. “Don’t worry, Sam is understanding.” The softness of his hand against yours sent butterflies to your stomach. Your heart began to swell as if it would explode inside your chest from all the feelings you were experiencing in that moment. His touch, his smile, his affection for you. It was all clear to you then. You were in love with Joaquin Torres. 

After returning home from the hospital, Joaquin spent the entire week by your side, making sure you were taken care of. Sure, you were a grown up and could care for yourself, but you appreciated how your roommate reminded you that you don’t have to be alone in the healing process. He would sing softly while tending to your finger and let you smoke some of his weed to ease the pain. Once you started feeling better, you and Joaquin finished building the bookcase together and he offered to read one of his favorite stories to you.

One day while Joaquin read to you, Sam called him, notifying him of an emergency assignment and was expected to leave right away. The night before he left, you and Joaquin crashed on the couch after getting high and watching an alien documentary on Netflix. You fell asleep before he did, and, naturally, your body curled up next to his as you dozed off. He listened to your snores for a few minutes before planting a tender peck on top of your head. Before he knew it, Joaquin drifted off to sleep.

You woke up alone in the living room, searching for Joaquin. Instead, you were met with a note on the coffee table.

Sorry I couldn’t give a proper goodbye. You looked so peaceful sleeping, I would have been a horrible friend to wake you up. I’ll see you in a month!

-J

While your roommate was away on mission, you spent your days sulking and missing him. You tried to go on with your routine as if he was still there, but things felt empty and meaningless. The pancakes from the diner didn’t taste as fluffy when you ate alone. The music you listened to while cleaning the house didn’t lift your mood the way it did with Joaquin. His favorite stories didn’t sweep you away to another world the way it did when he read them. The flowers around your house died faster, even though you tended to them the same way you always had. You didn’t even bother taking walks or going to the farmer’s market by yourself. It was the longest month you had ever experienced in your life. 

Meanwhile, Joaquin could not wait to fly back home to you. The days were long and draining, and it seemed as if he and Sam were constantly running into dead ends. What kept him motivated during this difficult mission was a photo booth strip he kept of you and him at the summer fair. Even though looking at the pictures made him miss you dearly, he was hopeful of the day he would reunite with him.

“Is that the roommate?” Sam inquired from behind Joaquin’s shoulder. The Falcon’s cheeks warmed up and he began smiling like a smitten school boy. Joaquin didn’t need to say anything for Sam to know what was on his mind.

“So, are you ever going to tell her you love her?” Captain America added with a quirked eyebrow. 

“I’ve been wanting to. I just get nervous.” Joaquin peered down at his combat boots. “She’s my best friend, Sam. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Ouch, and after all we’ve been through, I thought I was your best friend.” Sam’s joke led to Joaquin letting out a small chuckle. “No, but seriously, you will feel much more free once you just tell her.” The younger lad nodded, imagining all the best case scenarios of confessing his love for you. His daydreams of you were cut off by the gunshots that echoed in the distance.

The end of the month finally rolled around, yet there was no sign of Joaquin. Anxiety took over your body as you wondered why he hasn’t come home yet. Part of you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but your sadness made your mind wander to anything and everything that could have gone wrong. You dragged yourself to work as you have been doing for the entirety of Joaquin’s absence. While you worked, you stared at the matching photo booth strip pinned to the wall of your office. A hot tear streamed down your cheek, longing to see Joaquin’s face and hear his voice again.

After work, you came home, ready to settle into your comfy bed. You sighed loudly as you hopped out of your car, slamming the driver’s door shut and locking it behind you. All of a sudden, your eyes landed on a motorcycle that you haven’t seen in over a month. Then, you saw light coming from inside the house. Could it be?

You ripped off your work pumps, bolting into the house barefoot in hopes that your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. As you entered through the front door, the delicious scent of bananas and vanilla filled your nostrils. Your heart bursted at the seams upon the sight you found in the kitchen. Joaquin was humming along to your favorite song while drizzling a stack of banana pancakes with syrup. As if sensing your presence, he beamed a sparkling smile while turning to face you. 

“I came home an hour ago to an empty home. Figured you were still at work and you’d probably be hungry when you come back.” He paused, glancing at the plate on the counter. “I made sure to add bananas this time.”

Your lips trembled as you fought the urge to cry. You wanted to run and jump into his arms, feel his warmth bring you back to life, kiss the lips you have been aching to taste for an entire year. All you could do was drop your bag and heels by your side as you succumbed to the tears that fell from your face. Joaquin took that as his signal to step closer to you. He caressed your face, wiping the tears from your eyes. 

“I missed you,” you croaked, finally embracing him tightly. Your hearts beat in sync with one another, as if that was the way the universe wanted it.

“I missed you too.” He stroked the back of your head before making space to gaze into your glossy eyes. “It’s hard to be away from the girl I am madly in love with.” You couldn’t help but let out a tearful giggle at the words that left Joaquin’s mouth. It felt as if all of your wildest dreams were coming true. Yet it was only the beginning.

“Being The Falcon requires me to travel the world so often, and to see places I’ve always wanted to visit. But none of that matters to me because despite where I go, I find myself wanting to be wherever you are instead.”

“I love you, Joaquin.” You started to close the space between you and him. The tips of your noses brushed together, the heat from your breaths mingling like your feelings for one another.

“I love you, too, cariño.” With that, he finally pressed his lips against yours. You kissed one another with a passion that no one could snuff out. His lips were sweeter than the pancakes that were long neglected on the counter. Joaquin lifted you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist as he led you to the couch where you both professed your love throughout the rest of the night.

When you both woke up the next morning, bare bodies intertwined under the thin blanket, you felt a sense of belonging. It was unfamiliar to the two of you, but it was a feeling you accepted with open arms. You and Joaquin were both hopeful of the future that you were ready to build together like the bookcase filled with stories you hoped would become your reality. After locking eyes for what seemed like eternity, Joaquin kissed you with fervor, and you picked up where you left off from last night.

He was home, and so were you.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Joaquin Torres Masterlist

[rqgnarok]

catalogue - sam wilson

fandom: marvel, the falcon & the winter soldier

wc: 4,368

warnings: implied smut, mentions of injuries and scars, blood and bruises. neutral pronouns, no use of (y/n).

summary: you and sam don’t get to see each other often, but when you do, there’s a ritual you insist on going through to deal with your time apart. 

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

You’re a sight for Sam’s sore eyes. 

He hasn’t seen you in over six months. It’s an occupational hazard, he knows, but it’s the worst. Being the Falcon made his personal life take a step back in his list of priorities, and becoming Captain America meant setting the list on fire and declaring Sam Wilson’s downtime practically nonexistent. As far as he’s aware, Sarah and the boys are the only exceptions to the rule.

It’s not all on him. You’re an Avenger, too, even if you’re semi-retired. Semi, because the new kids still look for guidance as much as they can and you still keep a room at the Avengers compound because of it, even if scarcely decorated. 

You make your entrance by scaring the shit out of him because of course, you have to. 

“Is this what you call watching your six?”

Sam puffs out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. It’s always an interesting mix of emotions with you, Sam has never felt so safe and yet unbalanced than when he’s in your presence. It creates a sort of vacuum in his belly that has him feeling like a kid with a crush, but he’ll die before he ever admits that to anyone. Especially you.

“You know you don’t have to sneak up on me every time.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you quip, raising your brows and extending a hand that Sam takes to haul himself back on his feet. You click your tongue. “Gotta say, though, it’s a little less charming now that you’re Captain America. Where does that leave national security?”

Sam rolls his eyes so hard he’s about to give himself a headache, dusting off his ass and giving you a quick once-over, taking advantage of your sudden closeness to do so freely. “Thank Jesus the world still has you, then.”

“Only half time,” you shrug, unaware that Sam knows you’ve spent more time at the Avengers compound than your own apartment lately. If he has a few eyes that check up on you when you’re there, well. It’s only cause he worries. “You and Barnes playing in the Big Leagues leaves a lot of unfinished business for little guys like us.”

“Says the little guy who’s been to space,” Sam uses the same argument he always does when you try to downplay your importance in the job you do. It’s like a script, these meetings of yours, always under the excuse of responsibility until it’s not– until the conversation flows into what Sam has been aching for since the last time he saw you. 

You roll your eyes like he knew you would. You’ve been an Avenger since before they had the name for it, so if anyone deserves the semi-retirement, Sam concedes, it’s gotta be you. He won’t pretend it won’t be a big hit when you choose to walk away completely, though. Whether that’s to the business or Sam’s life, well. That’s another conversation.

He misses you. It’s hardly a crime. 

“And they’ve still got us doing intel like we’re rookies,” you shrug, lessening your significance anyway. As if you weren’t up there in the cosmos chasing after freaking Thanos, but Sam won’t argue with you about this. You already spend so little time together to waste it building conflicts between you.

“Please,” Sam’s a professional, so he doesn’t make a bitchface and say girl with disbelief coating his tone, but judging from the amusement that glints in your eyes, you read through the lines with ease. “Like we’d let the children anywhere near this.”

“Okay, Dad,” you snort. “How are Torres and Barnes anyway?”

“The kid and his grandpa are fine,” he goes for annoyed but his grin is boyish and unrestrained. “Jealous they weren’t authorized to drop by. This is practically a vacation, you know.”

You shake your head, but all in good fun. “If your bosses have you thinking that then you desperately need some real downtime.”

“This is as close as it gets, these days.” 

Torres had flown him all the way to Switzerland just so Sam could go and spend a few weeks in a rustic, semi-abandoned town on the outskirts of the city where an old SHIELD safehouse still stood against all odds. 

Why he had to go to the other side of the world for some intel, he asked and got no answer. Now it comes to mind how he has no idea where you– his contact– have been stationed lately nor what kind of work you’ve been pulling for whoever it is you answer to these days.

You don’t tell him about it, and he’s quit on trying to ask. Whether it’s because you don’t think he’ll approve of what you’re doing or because it’s strictly classified, Sam doesn’t know. 

“Blink twice if they’re holding you hostage,” you say in all seriousness, and he peels his eyes at you without blinking, getting close to your face. You laugh, pushing him away. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re one with the nation. Let me show you these files and see what Mr. America makes of ‘em.”

The physical files you actually bring with you are minimal, and most of the data you’ve been ordered to skim through is kept in a USB you hand to Sam as soon as the coffee has kicked in. Neither of you are exactly sure what it is you’re looking for so you’re stuck in the studio of the tiny, look-at-me-wrong-and-I’ll-crumble safe house for over three whole days before you finally start gathering some worthy intel.

“I was told we’d known when we found it,” you shrug, not visibly bothered by the fact that you’ve most likely been sent on a wild goose chase. “Or if we didn’t. We might go back empty-handed after all.”

It’s not encouraging but it’s what you’ve got, even if Sam isn’t sure he’s able to be out of commission for that long. He’s realized people get antsy when Captain America isn’t seen somewhere in the world after a few days, but despite how hard he tries he’s not able to be in two places at once.

“Yet,” he tells you when you take a food break and you allow him to rant about these troubles. “Haven’t figured it out yet, but Steve kind of managed it after a few years, right?”

“Steve was superhuman,” you remind him helpfully behind your coffee cup. You’d found some old whiskey at the back of a cabinet and doused your drink with it, so you make a face when it goes down. 

“You don’t think I’m super?”

“I think you’re something, alright.”

“Aw. That was almost a compliment.”

“Can’t let it get to your head, hotshot. Ego’s already too big for your body.”

It’s so fucking domestic Sam feels the ache of it in his teeth. You, sitting at the table in your tiny kitchen while he sits on the counter, each drinking your coffee how you like it as the sun sets through the window above the sink. Talking for hours until you realize you’re practically sitting in the dark as the afternoon flew by while you were taken with each other’s company. 

But then you go back to looking at intel until your eyes are burning and you excuse yourself to pass out on the couch. You do it almost half an hour to the dot before Sam gives up himself, and he’s pretty sure you know enough of his tells to know when he’s getting tired and make an early escape so he doesn’t take the couch himself. 

“You take the bed,” he’d offered the first night, having a little trouble not making it sound like an order. By how you’d raised your eyebrow, he’d failed by a mile. “God knows where you’re sleeping these days. It’s the least I can do after dragging you all the way out here.”

“You’re the one who keeps saying he’s on vacation,” you take your bags from his hands and drop them unceremoniously on the coffee table, marking the living room territory as yours. “And I’m sure the US government will kill me if I bring you back with a fucked up back.”

He almost suggested you could share. You have before, both out of necessity and leisure, but Sam’s sure that topic’s on the list of Things Not To Talk To You About. It might be the first one up there, in all caps and underlined with bright red. 

Sam has both held you down to fuck your brains out and held your bleeding body in his hands, pressing against a gunshot wound to keep blood flow to a minimum. It’s a fucked up type of intimacy he doesn’t share with anyone else, but he’s still hesitant to bring it up. Somehow both events keep happening whether he intends for them or not. 

It’s like he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, and it finally does on the fifth day of your assignment. 

You ultimately get a lead from the USB. It guides you to search for a random code you insist it’s on a file you’d read through already. You make a noise of victory under your breath when you spot it across the table and when you shift to reach for it, your breath hitches.

It’s a quiet thing Sam wouldn’t be able to acknowledge if he weren’t good at his job, but he is. 

“What is it?” he asks, suddenly alert, fingers twitching with the urge to hover over you worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. Whatever shadow of hesitance had fallen over you is pulled back into place, tucked away for Sam to blissfully ignore. 

You both know that shit won’t fly, but Sam thinks it’s cute you try anyway.

He stares at you and you avoid his eye long enough, face buried in the file, to know you know he’s noticed. It’s a silent request to let it pass. 

Tough fucking luck. Sam calls your name, admonishing.

“Sam,” you say right back at him in the same tone, still not looking at him. Sam grinds his teeth in annoyance, jaw tight. 

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine. You know how it is.”

It’s not a no. 

“I do know,” Sam agrees, but his mood’s a short fuse. “Are you grounded? Is that why you’re here? Because you’re hurt?”

Fucking jackpot. You exhale through your nose and tighten your jaw at the question but refuse to answer. You’re a couple of feet apart, divided by the desk filled with files and information, but somehow this is the closest he’s felt to you since you got here. 

You’d been hiding something since the beginning; taking the couch when you could’ve been sharing the bed from the start, touching him less than usual so things wouldn’t go further, and moving around the house with rigid, calculated movements.

“Manning the desk,” he says with a little too much bite, and he can physically watch your hackles rise; the annoyance in your eyes when they finally meet his, the biting of your cheek to stop yourself from rising to his sudden passive-aggressive hostility. “Handing me files, giving me intel. You’re flying halfway across the world to keep yourself out of the field.”

“Sam,” you say through gritted teeth. 

“You’re hurt,” he replies, not a question, nodding at your torso. It’s all suddenly painstakingly clear, the past week flashing through his mind like a movie from a different point of view. “And you’re hiding it from me, for some reason.”

“Is that all, Captain?” you ask, creating distance with the use of his new title in a way he despises and you know he does. You’re good at that, finding where it hurts and pressing methodically until the skin gives. Sam’s just not used to the trick being used on him. “Or is there something else about my person that you’ve figured out and have yet to enlighten me about?”

“Let me see,” he ignores you. It's easier than trying to match your level of cruel cleverness.  He stands to cross over to your side of the desk, staring down at you expectantly with arms crossed. “Come on, show me.”

“No,” you deadpan, but the way you wrap your arms carefully around yourself shows the defensiveness underneath your nonchalance. “Sam, come on, what the hell are you doing?”

“If you’re not hurt, then show me,” he insists but doesn’t reach to touch you without your permission. It’s a line he won’t cross. 

“Is that an order, sir?” you snap.

“I’m not your superior,” he replies, even though he is, technically, but not when you’re alone. Not when you’re hurt. “I’m your friend. And right now my friend is in pain, I’d like to be able to do something about it.”

“Like what?” you ask, and it’s as exhausted as it is conflictive. Thunder rumbles outside the house and inside Sam’s chest, two storms coming in. “Huh, Sam? What are you gonna do? It’s part of the damned job. Don’t tell me you’re injury-free right now.”

Sam isn’t. Both old and newer scars put a heaviness on his body he’s not supposed to carry, but he’s not the one hiding right now. 

“I can hold you,” he offers and watches the way you look away, imagining the sting in your eyes as they glisten with sudden tears. You very visibly refuse to shed them, tightening your jaw and passing saliva like it’s gravel. “If you’d let me. Let’s not pretend we haven’t done it before.”

“It’s different now.”

“Why?” he wonders, brow furrowing. He does his best to relax his stance and reaches to touch your tight fists where they lay on your lap. With his fingertips barely there on your skin, the tension bleeds out of them like magic almost against your will. “Because I’m Captain America? Because you won’t tell me where you’re stationed half the time?”

“It’s–”

“Classified,” he finishes for you, unmoved. “But you’re still you, and I’m still me. As far as I’m aware, that doesn’t change a damned thing.”

You close your eyes like the words pain you, resolve crumbling right before Sam’s eyes. “I don’t wanna fight with you.”

“Then don’t,” from Sam’s perspective, it’s as simple as that. “Let me see. Let me be with you, please. The last week has been torture.”

You let out a breath of a laugh that’s a little too miserable. “You’re telling me,” you say, and the slope of your shoulders falls from its tense, defensive curve. Sam takes it as the green light it is.   

You stand straighter as he kneels in front of you, his hands hovering over the hem of your shirt. He looks to you for permission and you give him a tight nod, staring at the wall instead of him, gulping down your anxieties.

Sam’s breath catches when he lifts your shirt and sees your torso, skin showered in black, blue, purple, and green bruises. “Jesus.”

“It’s worse than it looks,” you say automatically. Sam can’t see how that’s true. It looks like it hurts to even breathe, it’s unbelievable how you were able to hide it from him for so long. “Nothing’s broken, I swear.”

“What the hell happened?” he asks even if he knows you can’t– or won’t– answer. You sigh, and he watches blemished skin shake with the effort it takes. 

“I’m alright,” you say instead of the answer he wants, but your voice has softened and lost all fight response. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve been with him since you arrived and it has nothing to do with showing your skin. “Hey, I’m okay. That assignment’s over for good. I’m not going back there, I promise.”

The sigh of relief Sam lets out is shaky and doesn’t relinquish all the tension he’s been carrying. The possibilities of what must’ve happened are gonna haunt him long after this mission’s over. 

“I hate it,” he says, and he knows you know what he means. Not knowing where you are, spending more than half the year apart with zero contact, this unease between you that doesn’t let you be honest. 

You say, tired. “I know. Sam–”

Sam isn’t touching you– not yet. He’s careful so there’s no skin-to-skin contact, and you look at him with guarded eyes when he lowers your shirt back into place, standing up and towering over you. 

“What?”

You breathe air out of your nose, frustrated. “You know.”

A beat. “You sure?” he says, as plainly as he can with the tension that’s grown between you pulling him forward.

“Yes.”

He hums.

“Oh. You gonna let me touch you now, then?” he asks, still under the excuse of medical purposes only. But Sam can’t help the way his voice deepens, molten like honey. His eyes trail over skin that isn’t blemished: the curve of your neck, the lines of your arms, the slope of your fingers. 

You shiver under the attention, helpless to hide such a reaction to his voice. “Mmm? Honey?”

“Fuck you,” you say automatically, already opening your legs slightly for Sam to slip in between them, reaching for your jaw. You close your eyes at the touch, sighing away whatever tension remained in you. 

You’re too fucking easy, despite the fight you insisted on going through before letting yourself be touched, and something in Sam’s belly tightens at the idea of it being just for him.

Sam’s hands remain on your jaw and throat as he tilts your head up for a kiss, slow and deep, lingering. It’s not long before you open up for him, his tongue sliding into your mouth like it was always meant to be there, coaxing a whine from you while you search for steadiness and settle your hands on his belt. Not pulling, not searching for more– not yet– but keeping him close. 

The storm comes and goes and the files in the studio remain forgotten. Sam finally gets you on the bed and, better yet, with him in it. 

He’s a little too careful, hands cupping your ribs with extreme caution after finally getting rid of your shirt for good and laying you down against the sheets. You roll your eyes fondly and grab onto his wrists to direct him where you want him. 

He doesn’t complain as he takes your directions. The man will greedily take anything you give him in calloused, expert hands as he does his best to pull sounds out of you that are music to his ears. 

After it’s over, you both lay in bed, naked and breathless. You find a new scar on him and trace the ragged line of skin gently with your fingertip, touch featherlight, almost nonexistent. It’s been over half a year since you last did this, but only a couple of months since he got himself injured and stitched up by Bucky in the Brazilian jungle. “This one’s new.”

It had been a quick job, good enough considering the circumstances, which is to say Sam now has an ugly, uneven scar a couple of inches above his hipbone that saved him from bleeding out on his partner.

The memory holds no gentleness, but your fingers do. The haze of his previous orgasm leaves Sam pliant under your touch, melted against the sheets and uncaring of your scrutiny. “Barnes?”

Sam makes an affirmative noise, a valid enough question since sometimes he’s admitted to doing patchwork on himself for the sake of the mission, uncaring of how bad it hurts as long as it’s quick and efficient.

“Did it hurt?”

“Like hell,” he admits, feeling safe enough to do so in the cocoon you’ve built for yourselves. Sam runs a hand up and down your naked back as if trying to soothe the brunt of the memory. “Did the job, though. Got us out alive.”

At that, you lean to kiss the skin, only slipping a bit of tongue into it. Sam sighs, ignoring the prick of discomfort that’s trying to crawl up his spine and leaning towards the softer, more tender sentiment that takes over him whenever you get like this. It’s not easy for him to accept such gentleness, to let himself be cared for and lay there, unable to give something back.

He will, in a minute. But he knows you like him like this, and that alone pins him down in his place to let you work. It’d be hypocritical of him, he thinks as his hips twitch with renowned interest, to not let you fret after him when his own worry is what got you here in the first place.

After you’re satisfied, you trail the path Sam’s grown accustomed to, the very same you follow every time you sleep together after a terribly long amount of time: 

The knife scar under his pec from when they were chasing after Bucky, still the Winter Solider, superficial enough not to have caused concern at the time. The mark from when he got his appendix out, thinking nothing of the stabbing aches to his belly until he was doubling over in his bed and waking up half his platoon as he retched in the bathroom.

The dot on his finger where Riley accidentally stabbed him with a pencil once, sleep deprived and with two shots of whiskey on him. The wound had healed with ease but the mark made a permanent home on his skin, barely visible unless you leaned in close enough to look for it.

The scab on his knee from falling off his bike when he was six. Sarah had screeched bloody murder until their parents came out of the house to see what all the fuss was about. The scar left behind by a bullet on his right shoulder during his second tour in Afghanistan. 

The cut on his lip he got shaving for the first time is always last on your list. Sam has long stopped calling you out on it, how convenient it was that the cataloging of his scars always ended with a thorough, slow kiss to his mouth that usually bloomed into a second round. 

He found that you got skittish when he did so, pulling back into yourself and laying tensely in bed for a couple more minutes before you started looking around for your clothes, called out.

Now Sam only cups your jaw, tugs a little so it opens your mouth and he can slip in his tongue and steal a taste of your sigh. He wants you like this for as long as possible; vulnerable, unguarded, desperate to touch him and be touched back. Safe enough to know that you never have to ask for something he wants to give you so willingly. 

You always forget. The second you meet again, you have to start the whole dance over. Fish for excuses to meet each other in the middle, hoping for new scars to lengthen your time together. 

Sam isn’t a masochist by any means, and he’s not an adrenaline junkie asshat who chases the danger just to have proof on his skin that he can take all the grievances life throws at him.

But. But–

“We’re alright,” you say against his mouth, body warm and seeking on top of his. He’s mindful of your injuries but can’t help himself, the urge to touch you overrules any other instinct he owns. It makes him weak, on the field, but happy off of it. “Aren’t we? We’re gonna be alright.”

“‘Course we are, honey,” his southern charm pops out and you’re both parts equally pleased and unamused, a funny expression on your face that has him laughing as he cups the back of your neck to bring you in for another kiss. “What? What’s with the face?”

“Nothin’, pumpkin,” you imitate his accent and Sam focuses his ministrations on your jaw and neck, trying to get you to break character. “We’re gonna be just fine, sugar plum. You’re sure lookin’ very pretty tonight, peach fuzz.”

Sam splutters out a laugh. “Peach fuzz?”

“That’s what you sound like!”

“See if I ever call you something nice ever again.”

“You can’t resist me,” you say seriously, though a smile keeps trying to break your facade. “You literally lasted five days before taking me to bed. That’s on being weak, Wilson.”

“Some might say it’s a world record for me, baby,” he says, poking at your face until you show teeth, happy and at ease in his arms. “The six months before that were a little bit of a stretch, too.”

Your mood dampens a little but Sam won’t let it, nudging his nose against yours to catch your attention again. “Hey. What did I just say? We’re gonna be alright. Five days, six months, five years, it’s nothing. They mean shit when I get to see you again.”

The mention of the Snap unguards you further. He’d been gone while you tried to keep your life together, ignoring the Sam-shaped void in your surroundings. The first time you got together after he came back had been tainted by the grief of losing three of the best people you’d ever known, and he’d done his own reconnaissance of your skin as he took in new scars, new hurts that had happened and healed while he was gone.

You smile again, but it’s softer, fonder, a tender tilt of the lips for the man you managed to find in this chaotic line of work that became your whole life.

In another five days, you’ll once more be on opposite ends of the world without any idea of when you’ll see each other again or what new marks you’ll have on your skin that describe your time apart. You haven’t even put a name to this– this relationship that both of you are still too hesitant to define as such, but that’s okay. 

It’s okay. It’s more than enough. The path of scars will be there to take when you meet again, permanent proof that you’ve survived to find the way to each other over and over and over again. The map that leads to you, every goddamn time.

___

hi!!!

hope you like this one! i’ve been putting this fic on the back burner for almost a month now, but i’m so glad to finally have finished it! i hope to put out the tommy miller sequel for dial drunk next week before school starts :)

thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, commenting, etc.!

<3

[dearcarmine]

top gun maverick masterlist

jake “hangman” seresin

is it casual now? { light smut } { light angst } { afab reader }

bradley “rooster” bradshaw

n/a

mickey “fanboy” garcia

n/a

pete “maverick” mitchell

n/a

others

twt p!links

[writercole]

It's a Date

Summary: After the doppelganger debate, the squad goes out to The Hard Deck. Words: 480ish Warnings: Fluff. That's about it. Oh, and Penny is the best. A/N: This is a follow up to Falcon? that's been in the works for months. Somehow I'm finally making progress even if it's less than 500 words.

The moment the Dagger Squad walked into the bar, all eyes were on them, including Y/N’s. She was enamored with the WSO they called Fanboy. His warm brown eyes enchanted her when they spoke, his friendly smile sending flutters through her chest. She hadn’t realized that she had been staring until she heard her boss calling from the other side of the bar.

“Hey, where’s my relief?” Penny yelled as she slid drinks and added to tabs in her head until she could get back to her register.

“Sorry,” Y/N replied as she moved to start serving the customers at the bar. 

It didn’t take long before two of the squad members approached, having laid claim to their normal pool tables for the evening. 

“I can’t believe you don’t see the resemblance,” Payback argued. 

“I’m telling you I do not look like this guy,” Fanboy retorted.

“Boys, your usual half dozen beers and a coke?” she asked with a smile, interrupting their conversation.

“Oh, you’re a neutral party,” Payback quipped, “you know that Marvel kid Torres, the one that’s taking over the Falcon’s mantle?”

“Yeah, uh, Danny Ramirez or something like that?”

“Tell me Garcia here doesn’t look like him.”

“Tell him he’s insane,” Fanboy rebutted.

She studied him for a moment, recalling the actor’s face as she did. “I’m sorry, Garcia, but he’s right. You’ve got the same nose and a really, really similar smile.”

“SEE!” Payback exclaimed. Fanboy rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath as Payback walked away, yelling to the group how someone else saw the resemblance.

“You don’t think you look like him?” she asked as she popped the top on a handful of beers.

“No. That guy is like…crazy handsome,” Fanboy scoffed.

“I mean, you’re not wrong there. But don’t you think you’re selling yourself a little short?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re not exactly bad looking, Mickey. In fact, I think I like you better than him,” she admitted, averting her attention to the rest of the order for his group.

“I’m sorry what? I don’t think I heard you right.”

“She said that you’re hot and she’s been drooling over you since you came in here,” Penny added from behind her. “Now please, ask her out so that I can get my relief back.”

“Is that true, carina?” Fanboy asked, his eyes sparkling with hope.

“Uh, yeah. Even though that was literally the most embarrassing moment of my life,” she confirmed with a chuckle.

Fanboy grinned a lopsided grin as he straightened up, handing over his phone. “Put your number in here. When’s your next day off?”

“Whenever you want her,” Penny yelled before ringing the bell over another customer’s phone.

“In that case, tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he informed her, the grin on his face widening as she handed his phone back over.

“It’s a date.”

[happypopcornprincess]

Reds and Greens

Pairings - soccer!player Mickey Garcia X fem!Reader (college AU)

Premise - It's the final soccer match at university, the biggest one. You are there to support your team and your best friend Mickey. Will they bring the cup home?

the inspiration behind this post came from this post by @fanboygarcia honestly, watching pictures of Danny playing football gave me this crazy idea, and I hope y'all like it!

My Main Masterlist || Mickey Garcia Masterlist

University, 2018

"...all compounds that contain a benzene ring possess special stability. Certain other compounds lack a benzene ring yet satisfy the criterion of special stability and are classified as non-benzenoid aromatic compounds and…” You loved chemistry, you really did. But right now? You wanted to be anywhere but here.

Your legs bounced subconsciously as you tapped your pen on your notebook, the page empty. Your eyes traveled to the wall clock, 4:16.

The match started an hour ago. Mickey will be playing.

He had been practicing like a madman for this match. Skipping classes, staying up late, and almost ripping his hair out overthinking the outcome was a daily occurrence. But you were there to keep him in check. 

Every day that passed with him crashing into your place after practice, the line of being just friends blurred between the two of you. The hopeless crush that you had on him ever since the two of you met kept on growing. He didn’t make it any easier.

His kind heart, his goofy jokes. And his eyes, oh, his eyes! The way they sparkled as he told you about his day, how they softened every time he petted Reuben’s cat. You could swear you once caught him looking at you in class.

 He fought through the worst in order to be a star on his team and the pride of your university. You need to be there for him.

You look to your right to find Reuben looking in your direction, his brow furrowed in frustration.

And then you hear the bell ring.

What the…

You sat up in shock as the rest of your class, wondering how it rang four minutes early, but you wasted no time. The lecturer looked around in bewilderment as you leapt off your seat, grabbed your bag, and ran out along with everyone else. The hallway was filled with students running towards the exit leading to the soccer ground, Reuben right next to you.

This was the finals, and if your college team wins this match, they will be bringing home the cup after 6 years.

“I’ll save you a seat at the front!” he shouts and sprints ahead. You struggle to keep your bag on your shoulder as you run with the huge notebook Mickey gifted you last week.

“This weighs a literal ton!” you grunted as you picked up the notebook off your bed, as he was splayed on the other side of it.

“Hey! You’ll have all your formulas and notes in one place at least! Remember that one time I had to search your entire dorm room to find your formula book?” He yawns and turns to his side wrapping your blanket around him.

It brings back memories of your first year at uni. You were still new friends and Mickey helped you search your room from top to bottom because you lost your formula book.

“Thanks.” you smiled, looking at him, but he was already asleep. He had been sleeping in your dorm room ever since his team started late-night practices.

"Thanks for everything," you huffed.

You feel a hand that nudges the strap of your backpack up your shoulder, and you turn to see Natasha smirking at you.

“Where were you?” you ask her, as she wasn’t in the class before.

“Electronics operating room.” She smirked, picking up pace as you got out of the building, the crowd moving towards the ground.

“What were you doing there?”

She tilts her head, looking at you as if you knew what she had done.

The realization hits you. “You rang the bell!” you gasp.

She laughed in retaliation and grabbed your hand, practically dragging you through the sea of people.

Your alma mater's flags were displayed all around you, red and white with a lion symbol. The rival team’s green and black could be seen from across the field in the opposite stands. You climb the ramp up to the seats, looking at the first row. You find Reuben standing on three of them, the people around him shouting at him to back off. Upon reaching the spot, Natasha gave everyone around her a death glare and they all settled down.

Reuben squeezes your shoulders, passing you a DIY flag with an ice cream stick as its pole. “I spent three dollars on it, you better not lose it, ” you give him a look and he just shrugs and laughs.

Your eyes instantly searched for the number 11 on the field among the green and red scattered on the ground. 

And there he was.

Red jersey with its back to you, the letters GARCIA written on the back in bold white. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking around at his teammates as the captain shouted to take positions. You pleaded with him to wear a headband, but he refused, and now his hair was a mess.

The whistle blows, and you look at the scoreboard to see you are down 1-3. You squirmed in your seat praying for some miracle. This was terrible.

“It’s still early, there is time.” Reuben squeezed your leg, giving you a brave smile.

Your spirits do not change, despite the fact that you can see all around you people's spirits waning.

“C’mon Mickey,” you whispered under your breath, clutching your hands nervously.

It was a significant match for him. Hell, everyone on the team had been waiting for an opportunity like this for ages. The panelists for the finals included some of the most influential people in football, as well as an ex-coach of an iconic FIFA team. Winning the finals would be a direct hit on his resume for applications to the US Navy.

It terrified you, how he managed to be so calm at this point.

The whistle blows and the ball is passed around, the opponent team trying their hardest to keep it away from the reds. They had every single player playing defense covered while their striker took the ball toward the net like it was nothing.

“Come on Garcia!” a shout erupts from behind you, and your eyes find him running towards the striker at full speed from the other side of the field, the green opposing him any chance they got. But he deflected every single one of them. And as the striker was about to score a goal that would have been a walk in the park, Mickey kicked the ball away, sweeping it under his feet and running the other way.

You stand up along with literally everyone in the stands, the cheerleaders in front of you grabbing their pom-poms, as you witness Mickey score a goal.

The stadium erupts in cheers and the Reds are called in for a talk with the coach.

“Two more points and we win!" Natasha tackles you in a bear hug.

The game resumed, the ball being passed between the greens and the reds for a good twenty minutes, but not a single goal. But then, a green got the ball, and as soon as that happened, their captain nodded to two of his teammates standing next to him. 

Even before it happened, you saw what the greens were about to do. The two defenders stood a few feet in front of Mickey, and one ran to his back. From the ground, Mickey had no idea what was happening but everyone in the stands could clearly see they were surrounding him.

“Mickey run!” Reuben’s voice boomed across the stands, and he turned to see you three standing in the front. Confusion seared on his face but he sensed what was happening as soon as he heard Reuben. He turned away from the green, running towards another teammate - TELLER - and together the two hurdled to the ball, sparring with the green with their feet.

Everyone held their breath as they saw two reds facing off with a green ball somewhere between them.

And then it rolled out from behind him, towards the goal, and Teller kicked it in the air. The ball spun in a curve, passing every green surrounding it, and hitting the goal.

Mickey tackled Teller in a hug as the reds surrounded them. The cheerleaders screamed, running forward and doing their dance.

Your heart raced with adrenaline watching the scoreboard turn 3-3.

One goal and the trophy would be yours.

There were five minutes left.

The game halted as the teams ran to their coaches, forming a circle and discussing the next step.

Natasha and Reuben looked around to see their classmates ready with their flags, some wearing the sigil, and some throwing popcorn around. They were hyped beyond their selves, ready to celebrate if they won.

The game resumed.

For the opponent, the main target was now to block the Reds from scoring no matter what, and that’s what they did most of the time.

But your captain, WOOD, stood his ground as the reds took on the greens. It was a screaming match on the bleachers, a sea of supporters shouting for their teams. Their spirits lifted as Mickey and Teller now led the attack, positioned as strikers.

They weaved through the greens, slipping the ball between them. Reds let them go, preventing greens from reaching the pair. Nearing the goal, the goalkeeper slapped his knees ready to catch the ball. The shouts grew as Teller passed the ball to Mickey as a green tackled him, with 2 minutes left on the clock.

Mickey kicks it with all his might.

The goalkeeper jumps to the right, and the ball curves to the left, hitting the net.

Score: 4-3.

You were deafened by the shouts that erupted the next second. Reds tackle Mickey and Teller in a group hug, jumping around. 

Several people jumped the barricade to enter the field. It was like second nature as you jumped, running towards Mickey with all your might.

He separates himself from his teammates, and runs to you, picking you up and spinning you around, both of you laughing.

And it was as if time had stopped.

Every glance, every accidental touch, every hand holding, and the knowing smile, as well as how your hearts beat a bit faster when the other was near, flashed before your eyes.

Does he…

Mickey didn’t give you a chance to ponder the question brewing in your mind, as he crashed his lips on yours.

His arms wrap around your waist as he puts you down on the ground, your hands grasping the nape of his neck as you steady yourself.

Well, what you have been dreaming about ever since you met this guy was finally happening. Might as well enjoy it.

Shouts and applause erupt all around you. Natasha and Reuben, both the loudest, finally watch their friends confess their feelings.

After a while, he let go of you, caressing your face with a tender touch.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

“Hi,” you reply, your face heating up.

“We won.”

“I know!”

Breathless, he finally says, “I like you. A lot.”

You bit your lip. “I like you too.”

“I know!”

He holds you closer. “Was that cherry chapstick you’re wearing?”

You laughed out loud as you kissed him again, this time holding his face between your palms.

—-- 

Present day

You never lost the stick flag that Reuben bought at the game.

It was taped to the framed photo of the Reds in 2018 holding the winning cup, Mickey and Teller being the ones holding it above their heads.

Next to it was another photo, you both dressed in white, smiling at each other after you read your vows. It was your favorite, along with the one with Nat and Reuben from your college days.

He was on leave today. You sat on a blanket with him.

Laid out in the back of your shared home overlooking the ocean, Mickey ran his fingers through your hair. You looked forward to days like these every week. As you both finished your work, you sat in your backyard watching the California sunset. Your mind drifted back to his last football game, the day everything changed between you.

Mickey nudges your face, “what are you thinking, cariño?”

“Your last game at uni.” you look at him, smiling in the way you could see it in his eyes as he reminisces about the day.

A smile spreads across his face as he kisses your temple. "You were the coolest thing that happened to me that day," he says as he holds you tighter.

You roll your eyes and poke him playfully. “You are a soppy romantic, Mr. Garcia.”

He pinches your cheeks in response, “Only for you, Mrs. Garcia.”

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Any and all requests, headcanons, and drabble requests are most welcome. Love y'all, Take Care!

Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.

@tuiccim @parkjammys @akinrawsx @asteph22 @iamthebeth @thefandomqueenbb @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron @savedfanfics1992 @amigaytho @samwilson-mylove @jenniweaslee @anna-phora @fluffyprettykitty @fanboygarcia @fanboymickey @ladiesluver @bradshawsbaby @bradshaw-fanclub @roostersmustache @bradshawbaby

[shelby-ltd]

Dear all the fanfic writers of Top Gun, please do write fanfics for Mickey Garcia aka Fanboy.

I remember everyone loved him on Falcon & Winter Soldier as Joaquin Torres but when he's in Top Gun people gone to nowhere and simping over Miles Teller as Rooster which i am too but i love Danny Ramirez as Fanboy too 😩

So please do write fanfictions for Fanboy from Top Gun Maverick.

[mercyofmurdock]

POV: You’re camera roll if you were one of the pilots selected to go back to Top Gun

[eternalsams]

Southern Nights ⇴ M.Garcia

pairing: Mickey Garcia x fem!reader

warning/content: protective big bro energy, recomposed family, smitten Fanboy as we love him

summary: your boyfriend is finally meeting your family but it doesn't go as he planned it.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: English isn't my mother tongue, please take that into consideration.

masterlist

"What about you, Fanboy? Doing anything special for the holidays?" Rooster asked the younger man as he took a sip from his beer. Mickey couldn't contain the smile that appeared on his lips and raised his chin, a proud look in his eyes. "I do, actually. Meeting my girl's family for the first time." All his friends howled and cheered him on, making him slightly blush. "This is getting serious, Garcia. Make sure to compliment the mama and stay away from the pop's shotguns." Hangman clapped his hand on Mickey's shoulder with a sneer. "Not everyone keeps shotguns to terrorize their daughter's boyfriend, Bagman." Phoenix slapped the blonde's hand from Fanboy's shoulder before turning to the WSO. "Don't worry, I'm sure they're gonna love you. If your girl's as wonderful as you say, her parents must be amazing people too." She reassured him. "You seem pretty in love, where did you hide the ring?" Payback teased his WSO. "In my gym bag." He admitted, not ashamed of how smitten he is for his girl. "What did you say her name was again?" Hangman's voice teased again. Mickey turned to him with a fake-smile. "Not your business, Bagman."

You were practically jumping at the sight of your childhood house. It's been so long. Your hand holding his, you were pulling him toward the big house. You both walked up the few steps on the porch and before you could knock at the door, Mickey dropped the bags he had in other hand and pulled up against him before kissing you deeply. You were surprised but didn't complain. You pulled away, your cheeks flushed and looked at him. "What was that for, Mister Garcia?" You ran your fingers on his shoulders, inspecting his button-up shirt. "I don't think your parents will allow me to kiss you that way for the next week." He then pecked your lips and smiled down at you when you giggled. "You're a dork..." He bent down to grab the two bags and you went to knock on the front door. An elder woman was quick to open it and you threw yourself in her arms, wrapping your arms around her. Mickey smiled softly and locked eyes with the woman holding you close. Your mom quickly released you from the hug and she looked at you surprised. "Oh My! He's even more handsome than on the pictures you sent me!" Mickey smiled wildly at the compliment and wrap an arm around the woman who hugged him. You watched them with a loving smile and waited for them to separate to go into the house.

Mickey was met by an incredible smell and he already felt like home. "It smells amazing, Mrs Y/L/N." Mickey held onto the bags, not really sure where to put them. "Oh, you can call me Kate, sweetie. And I hope you're hungry!" She reached for your jacket to put it in the closet. "She cooked enough to feed the whole town!" A masculine voice joined the discussion. A wide grin took place on your face and you went to hug an elder man, your father, Mickey guessed. Your dad pulled away from you and straightened up to make himself taller to face Fanboy. Kind as he was, Mickey smiled at the man and extended his hand with genuine interest. "It's very nice to meet you, Sir. Y/N can't stop talking about you, both of you actually." He quickly glanced at your mom who slightly blushed and waved it off. Your father turned towards you as he shook Mickey's hand. "Did you tell him to say that?" You simply shrug and smile at him. "Maybe." Your father laughed a bit and turned back to Mickey. "It's okay, at ease, Lieutenant. And you can call me Jacob." He tapped Mickey's shoulder before taking the bags from his hand and leaving for the rooms to drop them in your room for the holidays. "Did you bring anything else with you, darling?" Your mom asked you. "Yeah, the rest is in the car." You smiled at her and she took Mickey's hand to lead him in the kitchen so he could help her setting the table. Mickey looked back at you and you waved your fingers at him with a soft smile. Your dad came back and walked to the french doors leading to the backyard. "Hey, Junior! Come help me with your sister's bags!" He called loudly to be heard over the children's screams.

"Aunt Y/N is here?" You could hear a little boy's voice ask before you were tackled by your sister's 5 year old son, and your godson. "Hey there..." You crouched down to scoop him in your arms. "I missed you. How is California?" He held you close, tightening his little arms around your shoulders. "It's amazing. It's hot, you'd love the beach. And I brought home someone I'd like for you to meet." You stroked his back and scratched the back of his head to draw his attention. He pulled back from your neck and looked at you with a frown. You said nothing and simply smiled, walking to the kitchen where your mom and Mickey were chatting. When you passed the doors, your boyfriend looked over at you and an excited grin took place on his face when he saw the child in your arms. "Noah... This is Mickey, he's my boyfriend. Mickey, this is my first love, Noah." You kissed your godson's cheek, making him giggle. Mickey walked up to you and shook Noah's hand. "It's really nice to meet you Noah, I've heard a lot about you. Wow, you really got a firm grip!" He exclaimed as he pretended to painfully rub his hand, earning a giggle from the boy. From the corner of your eye, you could see your dad and your brother walk up to your car and get everything out. Noah got shy as Mickey kept softly smiling at him and he buried his nose in your neck. "Are you in love?" He whispered in your ear, but loud enough because you could see Mickey smile even more. "We are." You answered as you rubbed his back. "Are you gonna get married and have kids?" He then asked in your ear. You smiled even more and turned your head so you could whisper back in his ear. "I hope so. I'm just waiting for him to be ready and pop the question down on one knee." The little boy laughed and squirmed in your arms. You crouched down and let him go back outside to play with his sister. The front door opened again and you could see Mickey frown when he heard your dad and your brother talk. He walked out of the kitchen and froze.

"Bagman?!" The latter froze in turn and looked at your boyfriend then looked at you. "You gotta be kidding me..." He sighed before dropping the bags he was holding. Mickey turned to you with a shocked expression and pointed at your brother. "You didn't tell me your brother was Hangman! Why isn't your name Seresin then!" The annoyed expression on Jake's face changed to a protective one when he heard your boyfriend raising his voice while talking to you. You simply chuckled and shrugged. "Because I'm not a Seresin, Jake's dad met my mom after I was born, we don't have the same dad. They got married when I was six and I got used to calling him dad." Mickey turned back to Jake who was looking between you and your boyfriend. "Everything good, Y/N?" The blonde asked. "Everything's good, Jake. Don't worry, I should've told you guys, I knew you worked together for a while and I thought it would be fun to keep this for me until your met. And it was fun." You chuckled and took your boyfriend's hand before leading him to the backyard to greet your niece and your sister and her husband. You heard Jake groaning behind you and turned back to throw him a glare, asking him silently to behave and not cause a scene. You wanted these vacations to be perfect for everyone. Jake sighed and rolled his eyes before grabbing your bags and following his dad to your room. He dropped the bags on your bed and stopped in his track and he saw Fanboy's gym bag. The ring. He quickly checked if anyone was coming in the hallway but he only heard chatting in the backyard. He opened the bag and searched for a little satin bag, a black velvety box, anything. He stopped his research when his hand touched something that had no reason to be in a gym bag. An envelop. He took it out of the bag and read your name in Fanboy's handwriting. He felt the envelop between his fingers and recognized the shape of a ring with a stone one one side. A big one, that is. He decided he knew enough and put the envelop where it was and put everything back how it was before closing the gym bag and leaving the room.

Jake joined everyone outside in the backyard, still deep in his thoughts, and was surprised when his niece threw herself in his arms, screaming and laughing, oh so happy to have her entire family reunited for the holidays. He looked up and saw you perched on Mickey's lap, laughing at something his dad said. He locked eyes with the WSO and walked up to them, dropping off the little girl so she could go play with her brother. "I saw you brought your gym bag." He said directly to Fanboy who froze and widened his eyes. All colors left his face and he realized Jake knew about the ring and that he planned to propose. To Jake's sister. You turned to your boyfriend and furrowed your frows, feeling there was a silent discussion between the two men. "I know a good place for a good run, I'll show you tomorrow morning if you want." The blonde pilot tapped Mickey's shoulder who seemed to breathe for the first time since his colleague opened his mouth. His grip on your hips loosened and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you closer and resting his chin on your shoulder. "Thanks, man." He only said before turning his attention back to the two children trying to show him what they learned in gym class.

[tigerlillyyy]

But but imagine there being a little tension between you and Danny while discussing your friends with benefits terms and conditions

You both like each other and you’re too stubborn to admit it

“Strictly physical.” I looked down at him from where I stood.

“And what if you want more?” He countered, getting to his feet so I had to look up at him.

“It sounds like you want more.”

“I like you and I kinda always get what I want.” Danny chuckled.

“Mira. Yo no me enamoró.” I pushed past him to walk away only for him to catch my wrist, pulling me to his chest and wrapping a strong arm around my waist.

“¿A no?” He smiled, moving a strand of my hair away from my face, his warm hand caressed my cheek before moving to the back of my neck and into my hair.

“¿Y cuánto apuestas?” He flashed his beautiful smile at me.

“Awfully cocky aren’t you?” I found myself smiling back.

“I know you feel something for me too.” He inched closer to my face.

“Ni lo sueñes.” I said before his lips met mine and I found myself unable to keep my hands from sliding up his chest and gripping his shirt.

He pushed me back, not breaking the kiss until my back hit a wall.

“Tu vas a ser mía,” he whispered as he kissed my jaw, down to my neck, “y de nadie más.”

[musings-of-a-rose]

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia Masterlist

*=indicates smut or eventual smut (see fic warnings for details)

One Shots:

The Jet*

[donottouchredbutton]

Endlessly Falling

joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc

3k words

she was falling, and there was only one person she trusted to catch her.

set in the same universe as this fic

warnings: angst, fear, canon-typical violence but i think it's pretty vague, reader/ofc has a fear of heights, idk let me know if i'm missing anything

note: idk if this is any good, i wrote it in like four hours unedited while i was trying to distract myself from burnout from work. feedback is always welcome :) also let me know if you notice anything familiar about sunshine's backstory... idk maybe there's something there, maybe there's not. let me know what you think!

She was running for her life. Again. She was really getting tired of this shit. 

She remembered a few weeks ago when the worst thing she had to worry about was getting her essays turned in on time, emailing her professors, and working on her thesis, back when she was just a grad student. Since meeting Joaquin, she found herself in trouble a lot more than she ever expected to be. 

That wasn’t to say this was the first time she’s ever had to run for her life, or that meeting Joaquin was the start of her getting into trouble. Or that meeting Joaquin was her first time helping a superhero. No, she had plenty of experience with this sort of thing. She remembered when she was a teenager the few (multiple) times when her dad’s work followed him home (literally) and having to hide or having to flee her own home just so he could take care of it. Terrifying as it was, she had learned to be good at finding the best hiding spots on the fly. And she still remembered when she was nineteen being trapped in a cage with a monster (who, to be fair, was her dad, but we won’t go into the specifics this time), with the intention of being mauled to death alongside a woman she barely knew. And just a year later, having to travel halfway across the world to help a superhero with identity issues to stop a cult and rescue her dad from said cult (her dad had a bad habit of getting himself into trouble, but he would always tell her that her uncle was even worse). 

Yeah. This wasn’t her first rodeo. And she was positive it wouldn’t be her last, either. 

But she sure as hell didn’t miss having to do this. 

Sam and Joaquin had both understood and agreed initially that they needed her help if they were going to stop this underground terrorist group. Bucky had been on the fence about it at first, thinking her too nice and innocent to get involved, but once she had proved herself in a fight the first time he had realized he had jumped the gun on judging her. She was a formidable opponent while still being able to maintain her happy nature and her positive, love-for-life attitude. 

Which was why she found herself in this position for the first time in years. She hadn’t meant to cause a distraction, she had just been sent by the men on a reconnaissance mission to one of their underground meetings while the three of them tried to take out their base of operations nearby. Even to her, the meeting was much bigger than she had been expecting, and the sound of the men updating her on their progress through her earpiece was only confirmation: they were a much bigger threat than they had initially believed. She had been listening to one of the leaders of the group as he slowly but surely began riling everyone up, his voice raising as he spoke to them about forcing order to the world and subjecting the people who had no care for them. He was nearly shouting at that point, and it was honestly beginning to frighten her. She was so ensnared by his words that the sound of Sam yelling through the earpiece completely threw her off her guard. 

“GET DOWN! IT’S A TRAP!”

The sound of gunshots on the other end of her earpiece caused her to gasp in fear, which caused her to slap her hand over her mouth in dread. She was scared for her friends, but she was also terrified at the sudden silence that happened in the room next to her after she did so. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as what was surely only a few seconds felt like years as she awaited what would happen. She didn’t dare breathe as she waited, her back pressed against the wall to make herself as small as possible. 

“Someone’s here with us. Take care of it.”

The leader’s words were just loud enough for her to hear, but it was more than enough to set her off at a sprint to get out of there. 

She had been running for what had felt like forever when she finally thought to check in with the others to make sure they were okay, and to find out what the hell happened. 

“What the hell happened?” she shouted through the earpiece. 

“They knew we were coming! It was a setup!” Sam shouted back. He and Bucky were fighting off terrorists left and right as they themselves tried to get out of the base. Their initial plan had been to find the leaders at the base and to either a) reason with them and get them to come willingly (Sam’s idea) or b) stop them by any means necessary (Bucky’s idea), but the three men had been met with nearly an entire army once they got there like they knew they were coming. The place had been booby trapped of all things, tipping the group off so that they opened fire seconds later. They all knew that if they were in trouble, she would be too. “Get outta there, now!”

“I’m trying!”

And she was. Unfortunately for her, the place was a maze, and with about ten angry men chasing after her, it was hard for her to focus on where all of the hallways led to rather than just trying to get away from them. Her fear was making it hard to think, and luckily it was making it hard to think about the fear itself. She just needed to get away. 

The sound of Joaquin’s voice in her ear immediately began to uncloud her mind. “Find a way to go up! Stairs, ladder, window, anything! I’ll come find you!”

She wasn’t able to think about how he would be able to do so, but she listened to him anyway. She trusted him enough to believe he was telling the truth. 

Truthfully, Joaquin didn’t know if he was. He had split from Sam and Bucky once they had opened fire, Sam telling him to fly out of there to find their superior and tell them all they had learned about the group. He often thought about what it would be like to jump out as Falcon, but he wasn’t exactly able to reflect on those expectations when he was in the middle of a life or death situation. He thought once he did so that he was in the clear, but there had been a couple of helicopters right outside waiting for him. So, they had air support. Of fucking course they did. 

Joaquin was sure that their superior would get an earful from Sam once they were finally on the clear (if they ever got to that point). He was doing his best to take out the people shooting at him from the helicopters, making sure they stayed focused on him so they wouldn’t start shooting elsewhere, but the entire time his focus was elsewhere. He couldn’t keep his mind off of her, and he was riddled with guilt. 

Joaquin was the one who had fought so hard to convince Sam and Bucky that she could help them on this mission. While they had both known she could handle herself, they were hesitant to let her go into the field with them, especially on a mission like this. She would have to get about as close as she physically could to this terrorist group without them finding out she was there, and they weren’t willing to risk her getting hurt or worse if something went wrong. It was the last thing Joaquin ever wanted, but he saw how hard she fought to convince them. He saw her conviction and determination, and more than anything, he saw that she truly cared. She just wanted to help, and Joaquin knew that. She was running for her life right now because he was the one to convince them to let her help. 

She was in danger because of him. 

He was right about her needing to find a way up. She had found a door that led her to a staircase all the way up to the roof. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see how close the men were, finding them far away enough for her to be able to lock the door behind her. If she wasn’t running for her life, she would’ve thought about how it definitely seemed like a safety issue for the door to even have a lock, but she was more concerned about buying herself at least a minute or two to get to the top. She didn’t look back again after she locked the door and began to race up the stairs, not until she heard the sound of a gunshot blowing the door open. The information that they did have guns with them scared her more than she thought it would. They liked the chase, and they didn’t want the end to be quick if they did catch her. The thought made her blood run cold, and a new wave of adrenaline filled her as she continued to run. 

Once she reached the roof, once again locking the door behind her to buy herself some time, she looked out to try to find Joaquin anywhere nearby, but he was nowhere to be found. She braced herself as she looked over the edge of the building she was on, and the realization of just how far up she was was quick to set in. She hadn’t realized how long the staircase was nor how far up she had run, but the sight of the city what looked like miles beneath her caused her heart to beat faster for a completely different reason. She could handle most things—monsters, cults, running for her life. Heights weren’t one of those things. 

“Joaquin,” she said. She tried to steady the tremble in her voice, trying to control her breathing. 

“I’m on my way!” he shouted back, trying to dodge the helicopter that was currently shooting at him. He was not on his way, but he needed to be soon if he wanted any chance of getting to her in time. 

The sound of the men chasing her banging on the door to the roof made her jolt, dread filling her veins like venom. They were throwing themselves against the door to get it open. Unsuccessfully, sure, but the knowledge that they had the means to get the door open with their weapons made her believe that this was just a sadistic scare tactic. The thought made her sick. 

“Joaquin,” she warned. She was unable to hide the fear she felt from her voice. Even she could hear her voice shake. 

So could Joaquin, and he knew they were both running out of time. Taking out the pilot in the final helicopter, he set the thrusters of his wings to full power before jetting off to where she was. 

“I’m on my way!” he shouted once again, but he knew that he wouldn’t be there in enough time. Thinking fast, he added, “You’re gonna have to jump!”

Her stomach dropped at the thought. “I can’t,” she whispered. But she knew she was running out of options. The men chasing her would get tired of playing with her, and in seconds they would be out there with her. She’d have nowhere else to go. Her hands were already shaking as the reality of what she had to do was setting in. 

And she was right. The sound of the door to the roof being blown open made her jump, and the sight of the men closing in on her filled her with a fear she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“JOAQUIN!”

“JUMP!”

She didn’t think. She ran to the edge of the building and jumped, right before they could grab her. 

She’s fallen before. She’s fallen out of tall trees when she was little, her dad constantly scolding her for climbing trees when she knew she might fall, but that’s why she always did it—to get better at climbing without falling. She’s jumped off of high platforms, trying to get down from where she was to try to help someone who needed it. She’s been thrown off of the side of a building before, but even then that was done when she was unconscious. This was something different. Being in free fall for so long, that sinking feeling in her gut never leaving but slowly getting worse as she seemed to fall closer to the ground in slow motion. The air whipped at her as if punishing her for jumping, her fear only growing as it felt like she would be endlessly falling. 

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think to breathe. She couldn’t think, her mind somewhere up in the clouds that she seemed to remember falling through when she jumped. Her eyes were dripping with tears she couldn’t stop as the cool air burned them as she went. Another punishment, she thought. The air was thin, too, choking her up even more. She couldn’t find her voice, though if she did, she wouldn’t have been able to think about calling for Joaquin again. She couldn’t think about whether he would catch her in time. She just had to continue falling. 

Joaquin’s heart raced as he did, his sights set on her as he flew to catch her. He could hear the fear in her voice when she said she couldn’t jump, it had been clear as day to him that she was afraid to. He hadn’t wanted to make her do it, but he knew she had to. And he knew he would rather die than let her hit the ground. He wouldn’t let her get hurt again. He would make sure of it. 

When he was finally close enough, his arms reaching for her, Joaquin felt time stop. He couldn’t think. The only thing he could focus on as he reached for her was her eyes. Those eyes he had seen could hold such light and happiness as he had come to know her, those same eyes that were squeezed shut from fear and wet with tears he knew she couldn’t stop. Once he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, never daring to let go. 

Once she felt him surrounding her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, aware enough to not choke him but clutching onto him like her life depended on it, because it did. There was nothing that would get her to let go. And now that he was holding her, she could finally feel herself breathe again. 

They were both silent as he flew them away from the building, away from all of the bad men who wished them harm, away from where she felt for a moment she was falling to her death. The pit in her stomach from falling was gone, replaced with something else she couldn’t place. She still felt sick feeling her insides shaken so much, but it wasn’t just that. She felt a pull inside her, not in her stomach but maybe in her chest. She couldn’t know for sure, still barely able to think or process what was going on. The only thing she knew for sure at that moment was that she felt well and truly safe wrapped up in Joaquin’s arms. 

Joaquin finally landed them on the roof of another building, much much shorter than the one she had jumped from and miles away. With the way she was clutching onto his back, he knew she could use a moment to stand on her own two legs and catch her breath. Once his feet touched the ground, he slowly eased her down as well, taking care to handle her gently for fear of causing her any more grief. His arms didn’t leave her even as she got her footing, nor did they when she leaned heavily against him once she was standing. She was still gripping him for dear life, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He was sure he was holding her in a similar way. 

“Are you okay?” he asked after a few minutes. He always made sure that she was, and if she wasn’t, he always did what he could to help. 

“…Yeah,” she answered slowly, barely audible if it weren’t for her mouth being so close to his ear. “Just… need a minute.” 

Joaquin knew that they didn’t have a minute. He should’ve already been with his superior by now, finishing up with the debrief as they waited for Sam and Bucky to return as well. But he wasn’t concerned with any of that right now. The only thing he cared about was the woman in his arms, shaking like a leaf as she tried to calm down. For her, he would make the time. 

He readjusted his arms around her so that he was hugging her instead, one arm around her waist while the other came up to her shoulders, his hand holding her head against him and stroking her hair. He tried to steady his breathing in a way that she could follow, willing his own heart rate to slow down as he tried to help her calm down. 

She wasn’t the only one who had felt like they were endlessly falling. The only difference was, his had been slow and steady, hardly noticing it was happening until it hit him all at once. And he knew he would fall again and again if it meant getting to hold her like this. 

[tom-whore-dleston]

Alma Bella

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x f. reader

Word Count: 1.3k

This fic contains: angst, fluff, implied smut, hurt/comfort, massages, crying, reader has low self esteem, Joaquin is a loving bf, unbeta’ed writing

Summary: Joaquin helps cheer you up after getting laid off.

Notes: This piece is for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love challenge. In addition, this is a late request from the Spotify Wrapped 2023 challenge.

prompt: Philautia (love of the self) - Spa Day

request: Hello ❤️ For your event, can I choose <Beautiful Soul> by Jesse McCartney and Joaquin Torres? I was thinking a hurt/comfort/fluff fic? I don’t want to add too many ideas but if I can add, Soldier Joaquin x Teacher Reader? Thank you!!! - @blackbat05

You poked at the rice on your plate, watching the way each grain smashed under your spoon. If you weren’t careful, you could have snapped at any moment, aggressively smashing the salmon you spent the last hour preparing for your partner and then throwing it on the ground. So, you settled for meticulously squishing each item on your plate, until Joaquin’s voice pulled you out of your trance.

“Amor, is everything alright?”

When you finally glanced into his loving brown eyes, you sighed loudly, fighting back the tears burning your own eyes. You had been anxious to the point of throwing up over sharing the news to Joaquin. He had been working so hard for both of you, and you didn’t want to let him down. The logical side of you knew he would never be disappointed in you, yet the fear of any conflict with the man you loved scared you to your core. Yet, you needed to tell him before you were consumed by it.

“I’m so sorry, Joaquin,” you mumbled, staring back down at your barely eaten dinner.

“What? Why?”

“I got laid off,” you finally revealed. Your heart sank to your stomach as the words left your mouth, and you already felt the bile traveling to the back of your throat. “I should have seen it coming with the way the economy is now. Plus, schools are more focused on STEM classes than fine arts. You sipped on your glass of water before continuing. “I really thought I could make a difference with art. I thought I could inspire kids to create with their hands and get messy, but…forget it. My family was right about me becoming an artist. I’d never make it so I should be an art teacher for more stability. Well, look where that got me.” 

The tears that brewed in your eyes disappeared. Your heart was breaking into atomic pieces yet you couldn’t allow yourself to cry. What was the point of crying if the only thing to grieve was your hope of making a difference?

Joaquin stood from his chair and joined you on the opposite side of the dining table. He knelt down to hug you tightly against him. The moment he started rubbing your back and kissed the crown of your head, the water works began flooding over his white shirt. Your lover hushed you, but still allowed you to sob into his shoulder. 

“I am hurting with you, amor. But everything you said about yourself is not true. You can make a difference with your art. Maybe this just wasn’t the right time or moment to do that.”

You pulled away to meet his eyes again. They were still beautiful and brown, even behind your watery gaze.

“When will be the right time?” You sniffled, wiping the tears away with the back of your hands.

Joaquin looked down at the ground solemnly. “I wish I knew the answer to that. But I promise it’ll come. You just gotta light that passion again, amor.” A strong hand grabbed yours tenderly. “I know you still have fight in you. Even if you feel discouraged.” 

You pulled Joaquin into another hug warm enough to light that fire inside you. He always knew how to comfort you. You didn’t deserve this, especially after the way you talked so poorly of yourself. But, it was what you needed to crawl out of your hopeless state.

“I think I know another way to cheer you up,” Joaquin said, sweeping the hair out of your face.

“Please tell me we are getting massages!”

Joaquin’s eyes widened, a smile painting his face. “How do you manage to guess what I’m thinking so easily?”

You bit your lip. “Because you and I are connected by the soul.”

He stared down at your lips, releasing a faint chuckle before kissing your lips.

The next day, Joaquin drove you to the massage parlor in your town, holding your hand while he sang ballads of his affection to you. At each stop light, he would lift your hand to his lips before lightly pecking them before driving away. By the time you arrived at your destination, Joaquin spoke with the receptionist, reserving your massage time and paying the service. Before you could protest, he reminded you that this day was for you and you shouldn’t have to do so much as lift a finger. Normally, you would attempt to fight him back, but for now, you agreed to let him treat you.

The next 90 minutes were the most blissful ones you have experienced in a long while. The woman massaging you may have been way past 60 years old, but her hands were strong enough to knead out the weight you carried since getting laid off. Yet, her touch was still soft and gentle, a kind reminder that even amongst the roughness, you deserve sensitivity and love.

You peered over to Joaquin, who laid with his cheek on the table, facing you. He grinned with his eyelids half open as his taut muscles turned to putty. 

“How are you, mi amor?” 

As the little old woman squeezed a pressure point on your calf, you winced in pain and pleasure. Joaquin laughed at your response, sticking his head back down the cushioned hole of the table, succumbing to the classical music and warmth of the massager’s hands.

Once your massage was over, you and Joaquin moaned in elation, but still yearned for more of the comforting yet aggressive touch of the massagers. You both laid in silence, battling the urge to fall asleep on the tables. After what felt like eternity, you finally stood from the table, moving sluggishly to dress yourself. Joaquin sensed your movement, turning to admire your naked form. 

“Hey, you,” your boyfriend murmured in a seductive tone.

“Hey, to you, too.” You snickered, rolling your eyes when Joaquin just stared at you in awe. He rolled onto his side as you slid your underwear back on.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He licked his lips as you bent over to pick up your sundress. A smirk was plastered on his face, and you already predicted where this would lead you. You decided to play dumb to test your hypothesis.

“I should say the same about you, handsome.” Your eyebrows suggested towards his semi hard length pointing in your direction. Then, you met him with sincerity and affection. “Thank you for this, amor. It really means a lot that you are taking this whole day to make me feel better after yesterday.”

“Anything for the woman I love. Don’t ever forget that you deserve the best and more.” You nodded before pressing your lips to his. Then, Joaquin added, “I take it that the massage helped relieve some of your stress?” 

“Oh, you have no idea, baby.”

“I think I do have an idea actually.” You faced him, fully dressed, as he finally managed to hop off the table. Your eyes steered away from his bare figure, warmth flooding your cheeks and chest. “Your pretty moans told me all I needed to know about how good you were feeling.”

You gulped, that sly smirk never leaving his face. “I felt really good, too. The thing is, I think they missed a spot. You and I both know you’re the only one to give me a real happy ending. Ain’t that right, amor?” By then, you choked on a gasp that almost came out as a whimper. 

“Joaquin, we can’t fuck here.”

“I know, I know.” He paused while putting on his jeans. “How about this? I drive us home, we get undressed again and I help you relax a little more and you help me get a happy ending.” 

You pretended to consider his proposition with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. The day had just begun for you two and you were already looking forward to more of whatever special treatment he had in store for you.

“Well, you did want to treat me the whole day so let’s not waste anymore time.”

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