#the falcon x reader

[super-marvel-dc]

Bucky: Who the fuck broke the toaster?

Y/N: It was Sam.

Steve: It was Sam.

Natasha: Sam broke it.

Sam:

Sam: ...yOU PROMISED-

[romanoffshouse]

Steve: You bought a taco?

Sam: Yeah

Steve: From the same truck that hit Bucky?

Sam:

Sam: Well me starving ain’t gonna help him!

[apocalypse-shuffle]

SAM WILSON | CAPTAIN AMERICA/FALCON (the mcu | tfatws | captain america: the winter soldier)

────────────────────

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“Arm Day” (Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader)

| You don’t show up for your running “date” with Sam so he shows up at your place to get a different kind of exercise in.

| SFW, exercising, romantic tension(?)

| Jesus, my summary is very nearly an innuendo. (Pic Source — Captain America: Civil War [peachy-ash icon], Captain America: The Winter Soldier [iconpsds icon], The Falcon & The Winter Soldier [marina-na-na icon])

| Inspo: Instagram

| 1k+ words

It’s the sound of your phone buzzing against your nightstand that wakes you up, and with a groan you lift your head to squint at it.

‘Sam Wilson’ flashes across your screen and you in no way can suppress the eye roll that elicits.

He was your gym buddy more often than not, but this was getting ridiculous.

When y’all ran laps together he’d slow down for you so you could keep one another company. When you were on the treadmill he’d be running in the one right beside you and hold out his arm if you stumbled so you wouldn’t go flying, emergency stopping the machine for you. You would spot each other, go out to eat afterwards, even make meal plans together. Sam was your number one.

He was also more of a pain in your ass than your actual personal trainers had ever been in the past.

You grope around for the phone, lifting it up to your ear once your clumsy fingers stumble across it.

“Yeah?”

Your grunt is met with an honest to god laugh. At this early in the morning?

“Oh my god,” you whine. “Sam, please, what do you want?”

A scoff this time.

“Y/N, it’s Saturday. Get your ass up, we got places to be.”

Still laying on your stomach you flip your head over to press the other side of your face into your pillow and switch your phone to the other ear accordingly, eyes slipping back closed.

“We? I told you I’m not leaving my house today.”

A beat of silence and then: “Okay…”

“Awesome. Have fun sweating by-”

“I’ll see you in five.”

You choke on your spit, words coming out in a whoosh and eyes snapping open.

“Fuck no! Sam!”

The sound of the dial tone reaches your ears and you curse, shooting out of bed, sleep no longer an option.

You drop your phone on your sheets and then scramble around for some shorts. If you could get to Sam before he got all the way to your apartment maybe you’d be able to shove his overactive ass back in his car.

In a frenzy you stuff your phone in your pocket and start towards the front door scratching at your head when it hits you. You’re scratching at your bare head.

“Shit- where in the world…?”

You whip around and start back towards your bedroom to look for where your head wrap had hidden itself during the night. You weren’t going all the way downstairs looking a mess.

Anywhere on your bed was a no show. It wasn’t hanging off your lamp like you’d found it once (who knows how it ended up there in the first place), and it wasn’t under your bed.

You're just about to throw caution to the wind and run out as you are regardless when two things happen at once. You find your wrap sunken into your shoes at the end of your bed and someone knocks at your door.

“Oh come the fuck on.” You grit your teeth, snatch up and firmly situate your traitorous wrap, then stomp over to jerk open the door.

“No.”

In front of you, dressed in a gray pair of sweats, Sam frowns lightly, thick brows raising.

“You made a promise,” he hedges.

You flip off said thick - accusatory - eyebrows.

“Screw my promise. I'm going to stay home and you’re going to leave. Goodbye.”

The door closes right in his face. He doesn’t take the chance not to let it, only to step back so he doesn’t break his nose. You appreciate that.

“Now hold on-! Aw come on, Y/n!” There’s muffled shuffling behind the door, him adjusting his gym bag more than likely, before he knocks again.

While you ignore him to start taking stuff out the freezer for a smoothie - you were already up, you might as well make it worth your while - he knocks three more times.

It’s when your phone starts buzzing on the countertop that you cave, stomping back over to the door and cracking it open just enough for him to see the glower on your face.

“What part of ‘Bye’ isn’t clicking? I’m tired, my muscles ache in places I didn’t even know were possible, and if I have to meal prep anymore I’m going to scream.”

He peeks through the sliver.

“Just one little circuit, alright? I brought everything with me so you won’t have to leave… .” His eyes have taken on a particular brightness that makes you just a little weak in the knees. “I’ll even cook for you after.”

Goddamnit. Your face smooths out from the glare you were rocking and Sam’s lights up.

“See? That sounds nice, now, doesn’t it?”

“Fine. A full meal, not no damn sandwich, and you make my smoothie before we start.”

“Deal. Thought you were gonna break my heart for a minute there, I'm really glad we pulled through though.”

“Yeah yeah,” you grumble and drag him and all his crap in.

_ _ _

“If you’re still aching after two days then we probably have to adjust your routine,” he curls upward and the muscles in his arms flex, stretching the sleeve of his maroon shirt to its limit. “I’ll take a pen and paper to it and we’ll figure it out, that fine by you Queen of Sheba?”

You scoff while going down on your push-ups.

“Yeah, it’s fine Sam,” you make sure to catch his eye as you straighten your arms to come up, “thanks.”

He smiles, switching to do curls with his left arm.

You go down, but end up watching unblinking for a few seconds as the muscles on his bicep become well defined peaks.

Hn.

Sam glances up and you rapidly realize that you’ve been laying on the ground and staring creepily at him for the better part of a minute.

Roughly, you clear your throat; Sam smirks and seems to go deliberately slow on his next curl. The way you gulp hurts a little.

“See something you like?”

Scowling, you roll your eyes and pick back up where you left off on your push-ups. You’re focusing intently on the tile underneath your palms when you answer him.

“No,” you snap to the floor.

Everything about Sam’s laugh says he doesn’t believe you worth a damn.

You don’t particularly care what he thinks though; something that you reiterate over and over in your head as you go on to the next workout.

Where the fuck Sam’s forward ass got off hiking a portable pull-up bar up to your apartment you did not know, but here the thing is, sitting nice and pretty like it belonged to be an absolute eyesore in the middle of your living room.

You sigh and decidedly don’t stare at him too hard as he eases down to the floor to take your previous place and start his own round of push-ups, and probably a few floor presses or something considering he brings the dumbbells down with him.

On your end starting your pull-ups starts off relatively easy. They’ve never been your favorite - and you’re certain they never will be - but at least you could do them now since you started training with Sam almost a year ago now.

Sam was neat like that. Uplifting without slipping into condescension, and being one of the few people who could push you so thoroughly out of your comfort zone.

Certainly the only person you allowed to upheave your more flexible boundaries with so little push back.

Breath huffing out of you you force yourself to rest before starting on your next set, eyes running over your workout partner’s back and the way the muscles there are also incredibly defined as he engages them.

It was a little unfair honestly. Who gave Sam Wilson the right to look so perfect? With a grunt you start working out again.

Eventually you begin waning, you can feel it in the way your arms instantly start to shake as you try to pull your body weight up for your next set, and the excess heat building in your fingers. How even as you attempt to swing your legs to get more momentum to do the pull-up you just barely manage to get one in before your arms give out, straightening back, and you’re left just hanging there.

“Goddamn,” you curse. Today really was just not your day.

Distantly you note the soft thud of weights being set down at your left but you're so focused that you don’t notice Sam move until he’s already in front of you.

He jumps up and you make a startled noise as you come face to face before he does a pull-up as easy as can be. Your lips purse.

He grins, “I got you, come on. One more rep.”

You sigh but he’s looking right into your eyes with that soft grin on his face - and you’re a sucker - so you cave in less than five seconds. Also, you don’t want to keep hanging any longer than necessary.

“I might not have one more in me, period, but I’ll try,” you murmur as you look away. You prep your muscles to move, assuming the right position, when Sam shaking his head in your peripheral catches your attention.

“Didn’t I just say I had you?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s swinging just that much closer on one arm - fucking show off - and grabbing enough of your thigh to nudge you forward so he can get his arm around your upper leg and then pull you in.

“You’re such a show off, you know that?”

You still follow his line of reasoning, though; pulling up enough that you can get both of your legs around his waist.

Sam just laughs, teeth glinting.

“I’m just happy to help.”

“Ha,” you mock, but when he pulls up you do so with him. Your arms bend, but not with nearly as much strain as before with him taking the majority of your weight, and the pressure on your core significantly lessens.

You won’t admit to having to bite back a smile at the feel of him tucked against you.

“You okay now?”

“Yeah,” you pant out, legs tightening absentmindedly around his waist. Sam grunts lowly in the back of his throat. “You in the habit of catching people like this?”

The look that briefly flashes across his face is far more severe than you think your question merits, and when Sam answers he makes sure to look you in the eye.

“I try to be.”

Then the moment’s broken, he’s pulling you both back up into your final exercise of the day and you’re left wondering where the hell Sam Wilson got off making you love him like this.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! If there’s any typos I’ll catch them later.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Marvel Masterlist

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A quick disclaimer: I am writing when I can! Please be patient with me, I work full time and I am also a college student, I have a lot on my plate.

If you find any mistakes in my writing, please call me out on it! I usually don't have the time to proofread my works before publishing and even then I do miss some errors. I want to become a better writer so please tell me!

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Enjoy my works!

not my gifs

Bucky Barnes

Matilda Rainy Days Christmas Movie Night Soulmate Can’t Help Falling in Love Snowed in The Holiday Spirit Snow Days Not Your Fault A Dance in the Snow Age of Machine Makeup Artist

Steve Rogers

Sleepless Nights Burned Cookies Personal Nurse Holiday Blues The New Day

Sam Wilson

I Find Comfort in You Road Tripping

[ichorai]

stitched ; sam wilson.

pairing ; sam wilson x super soldier!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; “I just worry about you—I know you can handle yourself, seeing as you’re all enhanced and whatnot, but… well, super soldiers can still bleed out, too.”

words ; 1.1k

themes ; fluff, very mild angst

warnings / includes ; a bit suggestive by the end, mild cursing, blood/injury/stitches, reader is nearly as old as bucky lol, bucky makes an appearance, sam is just a big old worrywart :(

main masterlist.

“Ow—Sam, that fuckin’ hurts—ow!”

Your boyfriend tore his eyes away from the deep gash in your forearm arm that he was stitching up to give you a mildly stern look. “It won’t hurt if you stop squirming around. In fact, this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t gone on that mission, like Steve warned you not to. You’ve got too much history with these folks—it’s dangerous for both you and everyone else on the team. Sit still for a sec and let me do my job, okay?”

Huffing, you slumped back into the sofa, using your free hand to frustratedly pull at your face, still bloody and caked with grime from the mission. You grimaced. A steaming hot shower sounded more than appealing right about now—along with a nice, long nap right after. Sam went back to sewing you up, grip a little tighter than necessary on your wrist.

“Why are you being so dramatic?” you asked him, shifting so that your free hand would rest against his bicep, patting him gently. “It was just a shard of glass—”

He didn’t spare you a glance, snorting as he shook his head. “A shard of glass from when a super soldier threw you through a skyscraper’s window, sure. You could’ve died.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t—I’m a super soldier too, Sam. And Bucky caught me, remember?” you gently replied. Carefully, you moved your hand upwards to cradle his face, thumb smoothing over his stubbled jaw. Sam paused in his suturing to look at you, his dark eyes wavering for a moment upon seeing your soft smile. “I’m fine, see? This’ll be completely healed over in two days’ time, just watch.”

The man in front of you squared his jaw and went on to finish the last of the stitches, neatly tying it off and placing the needle and thread away to the side. 

“It could’ve been a lot worse,” Sam said, slightly less stiff. His hand came up to lay over yours on his face, pulling your fingers forward to plant a soft kiss against your knuckles, before holding them close to his chest. “I just worry about you—I know you can handle yourself, seeing as you’re all enhanced and whatnot, but… well, super soldiers can still bleed out, too.” 

Chest tightening, you leaned closer to him, pressing a chaste kiss right beside his nose, and rested your forehead over his, noses bumping against one another. He smelled of earthy smoke and that citrus bodywash of yours he always stole, and something else just entirely him. You inhaled deeply, ignoring the burning pain within the side of your ribcage as you did so. “I know,” you whispered. After a brief moment of silence, you told him, “Thank you—for the stitches and the mother henning. Though, I could do with a little bit less of the latter.”

Wary of your freshly-sown injury, he tugged you closer, winding his arms around you in a sweet embrace. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled into your hair, littering feathery kisses along your temple. Even quieter, he tacked on, “I love you. Even though you’re, like, a million years old.”

“I’m only a hundred and five,” you gasped, abruptly pulling away to smack at his chest. “That’s younger than Bucky!” 

“Oh, yeah, because Bucky is so young and spritely,” your boyfriend scoffed in response. 

“Right, and we’re the one who chose to be cryogenically put to sleep and trained to be a killing machine throughout the decades,” you sarcastically bit out, though your tone lacked any real bite to it. 

Suddenly, said super soldier strode through the open doorway, crossing his arms as a playful, light smile curled at the corner of his lips. “My ears are burning,” he said, sending you a knowing look as you sheepishly pulled away from Sam. “You guys talkin’ about me?”

“Just about which nursing home we should throw you into,” you snarked, which earned you a guffaw of laughter and a proud high-five from Sam. 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky made his way over, throwing himself onto the couch beside you. “Tell me, what ever happened to respect your elders?” He turned his attention to your wound, features visibly softening. “You okay? Took quite a hit out there.”

“Just fine, Buck,” you reassured him, nudging him with a grateful grin. “I would be a gross sludge of mushy roadkill if it wasn’t for you.”

Sam made a disgruntled noise at your choice of words, but the two of you ignored him.

Your old friend smiled at you, then grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. “You guys down to watch a movie or somethin’? Steve told me that Star Wars was pretty good. Ever watched that, Y/N?”

“Nope,” you quipped, blanching at the memory of your growing list of movies to catch up on. “Sorry, Bucky, I’m completely joed. I gotta hit the showers—get all this crusty blood off of me. I’m down to watch it with you tomorrow, though.” 

Nodding in understanding, Bucky shooed you away when you planted a sloppy kiss to his cheek and cuffed him in the shoulder, sauntering away with a laugh. He wiped your kiss away with the back of his hand, before settling further into the couch and flicking through the channels.

“Alright, man,” said Sam after a moment, dusting his pants off and patting Bucky’s knee. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a rendezvous with a certain super soldier in the shower.”

Absent-mindedly, Bucky waved him away as well, mumbling a goodbye under his breath.

It was only as Sam was heading over to the bathroom, his shirt already in the process of being tugged off, did Bucky register what he was saying.

“Ew! Did you really have to tell me that? You guys are gross!” groaned Bucky, pulling a face at the thought. The rest of his complaints fell beneath his breathy grumbles, too quiet for Sam to pick up on. 

Sam could only snort in amusement at that, before swinging the bathroom door open to see you brushing your teeth by the sink, bits of minty foam gathered by the corners of your lips. He enthusiastically greeted you with an affectionate kiss to your cheek, accompanied by a pair of hands suggestively wandering down to your hips. 

[that-headcanon-girl]

Y/N: can you help me with this?

sam: yeah sure

Y/N: thank you, I love you

sam:

Y/N:

sam:

Y/N: what?

peter: don't worry she says that to everyone

sam: :(

[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

[happypopcornprincess]

Can I request a fic with Joaquin x Reader where it's date night and they are watching a movie and reader gets emotional and cries, but then Joaquin does too just looking at reader crying.

thank you so much for this request!

Writing again for my favorite character in MCU was so thrilling, and that too about this cute fluffy scenario omg! 🥺😭❤️ I hope you like it!

My Dearest

Pairings - Joaquín Torres x Reader

Premise - A movie night turned into something you won't forget.

Words - 500

Spoiler warning for the movie 'Call Me By Your Name'

You won’t say it was a talent, but you predicted what would happen next while watching a movie. It started as a fun pastime with your father when you were young. And right now, snuggling next to Joaquin on the sofa you were having a movie night, watching ‘Call Me By You Name’

During the climax, you wait as Elio spends Hanukkah with his parents alone, and the phone rings. You hold your breath, perking up slightly as he looks at it.

Your brain goes into overdrive, and you hold your breath as it concludes that it’s Oliver on the other side and that they are breaking up.

Joaquin’s hand slid over your waist, and he held you close as you sat up against his chest.

And your vision blurs as you watch him calling out to Oliver by his name.

“Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio.”

There is a pause, and on the other side, he sighs.

“Oliver.”

He says it once, and you sniffle, dreading what’s coming next. The minute he confesses that he’s engaged to a woman and is about to marry, you break down.

You weep throughout the scene until Elio sits down at the fireplace and his mother calls out to him, softly.

But as the credits roll while Timothée Chalamet stares into the camera with tears, you hear a sniffle from behind you.

You freeze and slowly look behind you and straight at Joaquin, whose big brown eyes are overflowing with tears and he grimaced at the laptop placed in front of you.

“babe?” you sniffle, calling him.

“Yeah?” he sniffles, exhaling loudly.

Your voice breaks as you ask him, “Are you crying?”

He locks his eyes on your face and he stares at you innately with a tear rolling down his face.

“No.” He deadpans.

Watching him cry breaks your heart. "It's just a movie. Joaco, why are you crying..." You hiccup, wiping your tears away.

“Because you are crying!” He sobs. “Please don’t cry.” His face contracts, and he wipes his tears silently.

Your big hug engulfs him as soon as you hear that. His racing heartbeat calms down as you hold him tightly, feeling a warm sensation growing inside your chest.

When you wake up, you realize that the two of you fell asleep on the sofa, and it's early morning at the moment. Half-sleeping, you detangle yourself from Joaquin’s arms and look at him as he sleeps soundly. He looked at peace, a faint smile lingering on his lips. You gently kiss his forehead and tuck a stray strand of his long curls behind his ears.

You tuck yourself under the blanket beside him and drift off to sleep, the sound of his steady breathing lulling you to sleep.

---/---/---//---/---/---

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 welcome. Love y'all, Take Care!

Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.

Tag List:

@tuiccim @parkjammys @akinrawsx @asteph22 @iamthebeth @thefandomqueenuno @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron @savedfanfics1992 @amigaytho @samwilson-mylove @jenniweaslee-faves @anna-phora @fluffyprettykitty

[okay-j-hannah]

They’re Jealous Of You

Preference

Characters: Druig, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker

Warnings: Peter’s has a spoiler from No Way Home - but I hope you all have seen that by now 🥰

Request: “I can't see your new character list so tell me if you don't write about someone here, okay? 😁 Druig, Sam Wilson and Peter Parker being jealous of their girlfriends preference, please?” Anon

~~~

Druig

Druig landed in front of her townhouse, knowing full well that she was at work and wouldn’t be home for hours. He knew where the spare key was, hidden in the flowerpot beside the porch swing.

He let himself in, taking a second to lean against the door and take in his surroundings. (Y/N) left the blinds open, warming the place with pretty sunlight. His eyes wandered from the cozy living room to the bookshelf of classics to the dining table bedecked with flowers to the kitchen that still smelled of coffee and buttered toast.

The tinkle of a bell preceded the soft steps of the housecat. Smoky gray and spying with bright blue eyes, the cat went right up to Druig and nudged his leg.

He finally smiled, complying to scratch him behind the ears, “Fancy a day together?”

And for hours Druig lived like those he spent millennia watching over. He feigned a human life.

He went to the bedroom to find the sweats and graphic t shirts that (Y/N) bought and kept for him. He went to the kitchen to make a sandwich, ensuring that the cat got a couple bites of turkey. He stood on the back porch, waving at the neighbors and deciding to water the plants with the hose.

He ended up snuggled on the couch with a thick blanket wrapped around him. The cat curled up in his lap and one of his favorite classics in hand.

He soaked up the feeling of being in a home and doing mundane human things. Because after so long he was ready to admit that he was jealous. He was jealous of his girlfriend and her simple life, void of powers and celestials and eternity.

Time seemed to go by quicker when he just lived the day. He was on the verge of a catnap when there was jangle of keys at the door and (Y/N) came walking in.

“Druig?” she called, “You left the door unlocked – scared me for a second.”

He waited for her to come into the living room as she kicked off her shoes and hung her coat. “I came to check the cat.”

She eyed the breadbasket and empty plate in the kitchen and the book resting on the ottoman – the bookmark was nearly halfway through the novel.

“Right,” she smirked, “Just popped in for a visit.”

He smiled, sweet and simple, “Come here, please.”

She obliged, crawling onto the couch and beneath the blanket he tucked around them. “You look sleepy.”

“I am,” he said gruffly, “It’s exhausting being human.”

“Is that what you’re doing here?” she asked curiously, snuggling into him.

He held her close, nudging her shoulder much like the cat that was trying to get comfortable between them.

“Shh…” he mumbled, nuzzling into her neck, “Just a couple more hours.”

Sam

“What the hell is that?” Sam said to himself, “What in the hell is that?”

He was pressed against the wide glass windows of the Avengers compound, hands cupped above his eyes to keep the sun from blocking his view.

Someone was up in the sky, suited with what looked like his falcon wings. They were doing spectacular aerials, moving the metallic wings as if they’d practiced the flight pattern before.

Anger was bubbling inside him, starting in his core and flooding out to his limbs. They pushed him to move. He darted down the hallway, not bothering with the elevator as he barged into the stairwell.

Who had the balls to steal his flight suit and practice in the backyard?

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he realized that the answer was his girlfriend.

His face was contorted with clear astonishment, watching (Y/N) pull risky moves in the air. She was maneuvering the suit so expertly that even Sam doubted he could match the skill.

He stood beneath her, hands on his hips and feeling that anger ebb away into something more subtle but all the more upsetting.

He was jealous of her skill. Embarrassed of the fact she probably kept it from him to spare his feelings.

It took a minute for her to notice him, but when she did, she cursed under her breath. She had been caught.

She humbly landed on the ground beside him.

Sam raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to get closer, “Damn, (Y/N).” He was trying to stifle the jealous pit in his stomach, “Why didn’t you tell me you were such a good flyer?”

“Well, I didn’t want to bug you with it,” She rested the red tinted glasses on her flyaway hair, “And knowing S.H.I.E.L.D. they would probably try to recruit me into some covert operation.”

“Or the Avengers,” Sam said, an edge to his voice.

She noticed, “Exactly. And you know I’m more of a homebase tech guy.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you couldn’t have told me.”

She shrugged, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s because you know you’re better than me, isn’t it.”

Her eyes flew wide, mouth floundering for a reply, “I… you… well…”

Sam gapped, “Oh my god, you really think you’re better with the suit!”

“I didn’t say that!” she finally gushed, “No, I don’t think that!” She was red-faced but realized what was fueling his outburst, “There’s no need to be jealous of how I fly.”

“I’m not,” Sam retorted, biting his tongue instead of being his usual chatty self.

She gave him a shy look, “There are plenty of things you can do in the suit that I can’t. I’ve been jealous of that before.”

He paused, extinguished by her words, “Really?”

“Maybe I’ve been practicing because I just want to be as good as you.”

He refrained from smiling, “I see what you’re doing.”

“Oh?”

“Thank you for trying to make me feel better.”

She sighed, relieved, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he went to kiss her, “My girlfriend is a badass.”

Peter

Outside the bathroom door he could hear the party raging on. Not the sophisticated college affair he was expecting among biomechanical engineers, but a borderline rave.

He thought this was the opportunity for him to meet (Y/N)’s friends and classmates – wanting to impress them and show that he could be an accepted part of their group.

What he hadn’t expected when entering the apartment was bass music making the floor buzz, UV lights hanging precariously from the ceiling, vibrant glowing paints decorating every surface, and a countertop displaying various punch bowls themed a different alcoholic concoction.

(Y/N) immediately threw her hands in the air, declaring her entrance with a rave worthy shout. Her friends and colleagues welcomed her, grabbing at her with neon colored hands and loose, drunken arms.

Peter was left in the doorway, wide eyed and looking like a pair of headlights were barreling towards him. He knew his girlfriend was more carefree for majoring as a biomechanical engineer – it was one of the things he loved about her – but it would’ve been nice to know that when she said, ‘a college party with her classmates’ she meant ‘a college party where you’re meant to bust an eardrum and forget the whole night to intoxicated bliss.’

He was shuffling out of the bathroom now, dodging a pair of giggling girls. He searched for (Y/N) in the crowd, letting his mind sink further into how disappointed he was. He really wanted to impress her tonight.

And now she was throwing her head around, waving her arms, and letting her friends press against her on the dance floor.

Peter felt that flicker of love trail up his chest at seeing her, but there was something else brewing in his stomach. (Y/N) was dancing to the anthem of the room, not a care in the world and leaning on her friends like they’d done it a thousand times. It was a loyalty that only came from a group of students that shared the struggles of class and then supported one another in safely detoxing over the weekend.

Peter didn’t have that.

How could he be carefree when he’d seen true villainy. How could he be loyal to friends when they’d all forgotten who he was.

He was jealous.

“Peter?”

He looked up to see (Y/N), speckled with paint and holding two drinks. He gave a weak smile.

“Are you okay?”

He shrugged. “Your friends love you.”

Her face dipped, flushed and now ashamed of allowing her friends to drag her away from her boyfriend.

“I probably should’ve warned you,” she said loudly over the music.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not wanting to hurt her feelings, “This just isn’t my scene.”

She nodded, putting the cups on the nearest table, “Well, I’ve said hi to everyone, now we can get out of here.”

Peter immediately fumbled, “No, no – I didn’t mean we had to leave. You should keep…”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him flush to her chest, head pressed against his so she could mumble something quietly in his ear.

“I want to spend the night with you. Just me and you. Let’s get some takeout and take a shower at your apartment.”

Pajamas and snacks and movies and cuddles. It was making Peter smile again, made him feel not so alone anymore, “I love you.”

~~~

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[buckys-little-belle]

We all pretty much know that Sam is a more non serious (silly) caregiver and person in general but what would the others reaction be when he gets serious about the reader after they get hurt? Feel free to change it or expand on it

Playground Mishaps (Headcannons)

Sam Wilson x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Mentions of falling/Injury, scrapes on knees, soft and silly sam, but also serious!Sam

Notes - Starting my comeback off small, with some headcannons, thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy <3

+ + + + + +

+ Tony Stark has the best playgrounds at his compound, yes, multiple, one with a lot of climbing gear that Peter and Kate seem to keep to themselves, one with some water features that's great in the summer, and then the huge playground in the back, with tons of slides, and bridges, stairs, binocular posts, and the coolest hiding spots that overlook the whole thing.

+ As much fun as it is to play on them, adult supervision is always required, you and a few littles have snuck out before to play alone, but it never ends up working, Jarvis is a snitch, and Peter can't keep a secret for the life of him.

+ But everyone's caregivers are happy to take turns watching the littles as they play 'the floor is lava' or 'hide and seek, eyes closed edition', though today is a special occasion, everyone, littles and caregivers, are out at the big playground, the barbecue going, half filled lemonade cups scattered across every surface, and you and all the other littles playing together.

+ Quite a few reminders about the rules had been shouted out, 'no running', 'no pushing', 'no powers', and 'no fighting', leaving multiple caregivers mouths, and a few from you and your friends when Loki teleported halfway across the structure.

+ But you were so close to winning, so close to being the last person standing when Peter, who was it, came barreling around a corner, you had to run! You had to win! But sooner than later you found yourself sprawled across the fake, and bouncy, mulch like ground, Peter staring at you from a foot up, a few other littles murmuring amongst each other.

+ "Y/n!" You could hear Sam yell, and it wasn't a happy one, you knew the tone meant he was mad, and he had every right to be mad, and you knew it.

+ "'m sorry Papa!" You whispered as he hovered above you, helping you to your feet as he crouched down to look at your legs, his thumb barely touching your scrape as you pulled your knee back from his grasp.

+ Littles had run to their own Caregivers arms, a few 'This is why you don't run on the playground's being handed out, though everyone's eyes were glued to you and Sam, your hand's resting on his shoulders as he checked for any other injuries.

+ "What did I say about running?" Your Papa asked sternly, his eyes serious, eyebrows furrowed slightly, your thumb itching to run across them.

+ "You say 'Don' run or you'll ge' an owie.'" You said back in a deep voice, those around you laughing, though your Papa stayed unmoving, shocking everyone else, seeing as he was always the fun uncle before you, and seeing as you had him wrapped around your finger.

+ "And what happened?" He asked, still knelling on the ground, allowing you to both feel like, and be, the bigger person.

+ "I was runnin'." You admitted, Sam nodding his head. "'nd I fell." You tried to wrap your arms around his neck, hoping maybe a hug would be what it took to get him to fold, but he placed his hands on your waist and held you in place.

+ "And?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

+ "'nd 'm sorry, 'nd I won' do it again." You assured him, nodding your head for added drama.

+ "Good Baby." He nodded back, and though he didn't smile you could see the stress in his brow relax. "I accept you're apology, but no treats after dinner, okay?"

+ You nodded your head quickly, that 'punishment' was nothing compared to last week when you couldn't go on the playground at all after you pushed Kate off, 'accidentally', so you were just glad he wasn't going to make you sit the rest of the evening out. "Okay Papa." You went to hug him again, this time his arms wrapping around your middle, hugging you back before leading you towards the house, no doubt to clean up your knees.

+ On your way there you heard your Uncle Stevie tell Papa he 'Can't believe you had that in you man.', and Auntie Nat say 'If Wanda had fallen I'd be a mess.' but you knew your Papa wasn't mean, he had rules, and expected you to follow them, and if you didn't then you get punished, Uncle Stevie's just getting soft in his old age, and your Papa had you as a little, and he knew that some scrapes on your knees was nothing compared to what you had in you, so he stayed calm, because you were okay, Auntie Nat is just very careful.

+ In the end you were back on the playground in no time, this time walking, and making sure to stay away from the little drop off, and your Papa was off to the side getting your dinner plate ready for you, because he was wrapped around your finger, and you puppy dog eyed him in waiting in the line for you.

[fluffyprettykitty]

No Room For Worries

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x gn! reader (no other specifications)

Word Count: 563 words

Outline: Filled with worry at Joaquin's absence until he finally texts you.

Author’s Note: Requested by the delightful @happypopcornprincess. She also writes for all Danny Ramirez characters so if you don't know her already you should definitely check her out! Baby, I hope you like this and thank you so much for your kind words!

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics ​//​ banners by @maysdigitalarts​

Main Masterlist ・❥・Joaquin Torres Masterlist

It wasn't easy dating Joaquin Torres. He was gorgeous, the kindest man you ever met, and an absolute sweetheart but his work both in the military and by Captain America's side as the Falcon left you filled with worry every single time he left. 

You had gotten used to him, leaving you in the middle of the night or really in the middle of anything to go and join Sam wherever he needed to, and even though you had met him and all the team involved, you still couldn't help yourself. 

All you do is pace back and forth inside your small apartment dressed in his favorite green hoodie and his grey sweatpants. You got music on and you're trying to calm yourself down even though it's been more than thirty hours since Joaquin has last called you. 

Suddenly a beep is heard. You jump to the couch to grab your phone and excitedly gaze at his name on the screen. A simple "I miss you, I'll be home, soon" followed by a smiley face. You suddenly felt calmer and happily danced around the room on your own. 

Two hours later you were doing laundry. You had just put one wash in and were putting the clothes in the drying rack. The tv was on loud in the other room so you could still hear the re-run of the show you were watching. 

The distinct sound of a motorcycle engine was heard and momentarily you thought how similar to your boyfriend's Harley it sounded. You chuckle at the thought as you place the last shirt on the rack and move to close the door and return to the living room. 

Then the doorbell rang. Confused at how late at night it was, almost 11 pm, you try to quietly go to the door eyehole. Only to be greeted with the sight of your tall boyfriend with his hair all loose and wet, dressed in a black leather jacket and holding his helmet around his elbow. 

Excitedly you open the door and hug him immediately. You are wrapping your hands around his back, not caring at all about getting wet. 

"Carino, tranquilla. I missed you, too. Let's get inside. " You protest, squeezing him tighter. All he can do is laugh at your reaction. "I got food in my backpack. I wanna make sure it hasn't got soaking wet." 

"What happened? Why are you wet?" You stare at him, patting his shoulders and arms with your hands before trying to remove his backpack. 

"Rain caught me about fifty miles from here and then I couldn't do anything else than keep driving. We were in San Francisco and I wanted to get these amazing sandwiches from a local chain." 

“Oh baby, you’re so sweet.”

“And drenching wet.”

"You should take a shower and put on fresh clothes because I don't want you to catch a cold. " 

You take him by the hand leading him inside the room and carefully help him off his clothes, You took the shower together amongst many giggling and kisses. The worry in your heart had settled now into the rhythm of love.

The sandwiches were thankfully okay, the backpack had many layers so they stayed safe but unfortunately the next morning Joaquin woke up with a cough. 

Not that you minded at all. You would nurse him right back into health. 

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[multific]

Lucky Woman

Sam Wilson x Reader

When facing real danger Captain America was the strongest, and most willing to jump into place and fix the situation.

But this, this challenge was something the great Sam Wilson never wanted to face.

Standing perfectly still, the items in front of him seemed to laugh into his face.

He stared intently as if he looked intimidating, they would give up. But Sam wasn't the kind of man to give up first.

After what felt like an eternity to him, and five long minutes for the shop assistant, she finally gathered her courage to go over to the man.

"Sir? Do you need help?" asked the young woman, who squeaked like a mouse when Sam turned to her, she looked frightened, and Sam softened his expression.

He held a hand out and as if he was saying "DUH" he pointed at the shelf next to him.

The woman looked at his hand and then at the shelf of goods.

"Do you need help choosing pads, Sir?" asked the woman but his expression said it all. 

He needed more than help, he needed a detailed explanation why were there so many options. As a man with a sister, Sam was still not the best knowledgeable on the topic.

Tampons and pads in all sizes.

What did sizes mean anyway? Surely not the lady parts?! 

"What does she usually use?" asked the kind lady but Sam couldn't even make a noise.

To the woman, this was an almost everyday occurrence. 

Men come into the drug store, looking for tampons or pads but having no idea what to get.

But to Sam, he rather face Thanos again if it came down to it. Thanos or an angry wife if he gets the wrong thing.

"Next time, take a picture of the box or call her now? I can help you and give you the normal ones, but I'm not sure if it's what she uses."

Call you?

NO.

Sam was a proud man. And again, Thanos sounded not too bad right about now. He was honestly contemplating making up a story about a robbery or something just to tell you why he couldn't buy you the things you needed.

But no, Sam Wilson was a man. No way a couple of female products can defeat him!

But a picture wasn't such a bad idea.

"What does-Hm. What do women usually get?" he ended up asking.

"Depends."

Great. That wasn't a straight answer.

Why were there so many options?! And why after 5 years of dating from which he spent 3 married is this the first time he has to face the female products aisle in the drug store?

He probably should just accept defeat. He probably should just give up and call you as the lady suggested but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.

The unmistakable purple box. The box he moved out of the way when looking for his shave or hidden condoms at the back of the shelf.

He grabbed it like a man who just found their lost child.

"This is it." he said.

---

As he entered the house with bags in his hands, Sam kicked the door in. He could hear the TV was on. 

"Hey Baby." he said as he entered the room, catching you as you sat with a blanket around you as you watched some random series.

"Hii."

"I got your things and I'm making dinner, how does meatballs sound?"

"Perfect." you followed him to the kitchen as he started to put things away.

You pulled out the purple box, Sam smirked.

"I'm surprised you knew what I use." you said and he laughed a little.

"I'm Captain America, tampons have nothing on me." you laughed as you leaned close to kiss him.

"Tampons and good food? If I didn't know any better I'd say you are trying to get some."

"Oh, later maybe, you do have cramps don't you?" he said, this answer way too serious for you joking tone, but you didn’t mind, he was right, you were having cramps.

"In a couple days, Mr Wilson I'll make you the happiest man alive, I swear." you said as you pointed at him with the box.

He laughed, "I already am, Baby."

"And I'm the luckiest woman." you kissed him again before heading back to the couch, letting him cook, you'd come back a couple minutes later to check on him.

Sam let out a long sigh. Bullet dodged. 

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

[romanoffshouse]

Sam: If you could be a girl for 24 hours what would you do?

Steve: I'll do Bucky.

[marie-swriting]

Your gallery if you're dating...

Sam Wilson

Those pictures aren't mine, credits to owners !!!

Other galleries

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

I Find Comfort in You- S.Wilson

Summary: Sam is away on a 2 month long mission where he can’t contact anyone, Y/N struggles without him and he struggles without her. Everything falls into place once they reunite.

Pairings: Sam x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N, mentions of Hydra, female!reader, Bucky is a mean grump, Sam being a sweetie, Y/N was a brainwashed assassin, nightmares/night terrors, making out, gets a little steamy at the end (if I missed any please let me know)

Author’s note: This is my first Sam fic, he deserves a lot more love. This is also the longest fic I have ever written. If you notice any mistakes please feel free to point them out, I edit my own fics, so there is a chance for mistakes or little plot holes here and there. If you have any suggestions feel free to leave them, my asks are open for any suggestions on my writing or any questions you may have.

My full Masterlist

The Avengers were a semi-normal group of people. Some were super soldiers, some were gods, some were experimented on, some were veterans, one turned into a green giant when angered, one was a guy who made himself a suit of iron, one was a robot, but one thing they all had in common was trauma, some more than others. Each of them had their fair share, whether it was from childhood, from the war, from being captured or from a mission gone wrong. There were quite a few people on the team that struggled with nightmares but they had a healthy means of coping with them. But there were also a few people on the team that still struggled with finding a healthy coping mechanism.

They were encouraged to talk to the rest of the team but they didn’t want to burden others with their problems. One of those people being Y/N, she was the one that had the hardest time trying to find a healthy coping mechanism. She usually would talk to Sam who was always willing to lend an ear and a shoulder to cry on, but he had left for a solo mission 2 months ago. She was always happy with him around, no matter how upset she was previously. Since Sam had left, she was struggling and sinking deeper into herself than she ever was. Steve was pushing her and Bucky into talking but neither of them relented. 

The group all assumed that she was a little more reserved than usual because she was quickly approaching a year of freedom. Although she was free, she didn’t feel free, the longer that Sam was gone, the less she felt free. Hydra still had her in a chokehold, her nightmares flooding back, her brainwashed memories haunting her every single day.

Steve pushed Bucky to talk to her, telling him that Sam wasn’t here so she had nobody to talk to, nobody that she felt comfortable enough to share what was on her mind constantly. “Look Steve, I get that you’re trying to look out for her but she doesn’t know me and I don’t know her. She knows the Winter Soldier, that is all she will ever know,” Bucky snapped at Steve before leaving the gym. She passed by Bucky as she entered the gym, he slammed his vibranium shoulder into her. She glared at the back of his head before finding her way by Steve. She found his presence comforting but she couldn’t get herself to talk to him.

“You can talk to me, you know? I know I’m not Sam but it’s better if you talk to somebody. You’re quieter than usual.” Steve offered her.

“I’m fine but thank you anyway.” She replied with a smile, of course it was a fake smile but it seemed to relax the blond slightly. With that Steve walked away reluctantly. He knew that she wasn’t fine but he wasn’t going to force anything out of her. 

She decided to just run on the treadmill for an hour before making her way to her bedroom. Once she walked in she was immediately overwhelmed. Her room was a disaster, all of the books that were on her bookshelf were scattered all over the room, her bed was unmade, she had dirty clothes all over the floor, her clean clothes piled on a chair in the corner of her room and the only mirror in her bedroom smashed to a million pieces. Instead of staying in her room, she grabbed something to keep her busy and made her way to Sam’s room. He always had his room organized and neat. It was a lot calmer than her room to say the least. 

She had hesitated slightly before going in but remembered that Sam was more than okay with her being in his room. She entered the room, immediately getting enveloped with Sam’s comforting scent, and made her way to his bed. She lifted the blanket and got under the covers, snuggling into his warm, soft blankets. She had put on the show New Girl as background noise and pulled out the blanket she was crocheting, she needed to keep her hands busy and her mind stimulated. Crocheting was the one thing that she could do for hours with not a single thought in mind. Eventually she grew tired and dozed off in the middle of a row, her arms falling limp at her sides, her head lulling back onto the headboard. She made a mental note to tend to her room after a quick nap. The fact that Sam was set to return that day completely slipping her mind.

As she peacefully slept in his bed, Sam was finally returning from his 2 month long undercover mission. He couldn’t contact anyone on the team, only Fury, meaning he hadn’t been able to talk to Y/N in 2 months. He was worried about her and that worry only grew when he saw only Steve and Bucky on the roof to greet him. Bucky simply patted Sam on the back and then walked away, leaving just him and Steve. 

“Where’s Y/N? Is she doing okay?” Sam asked, he had grown used to seeing her whenever he would return from missions so he was nervous when he hadn’t seen her.

“She hasn’t been doing well since you left,” Steve replied.

“Do you know where she is?”

“I saw her go into her room after working out.”  With that, Sam walked off towards her bedroom, thinking that she might be there. Not only was he met with an empty room but a disaster splayed out in front of him. That’s when his worry spiked to an all time high, the last time she did this was when she first got to the compound. “Friday, where’s Y/N?” Sam asked the AI.

“She’s in your bedroom.” With his answer, he practically sprinted to his room, throwing open the door only to find her fast asleep in his bed, her latest crocheting project laying on her lap. He let out an audible sigh of relief when he saw her.

He decided to let her sleep and to get himself cleaned up. While he was in the shower, Y/N had woken up with a start, an old Hydra memory plaguing her mind. When she recognized her surroundings, she relaxed back into Sam’s bed. This time she laid herself down so her head was resting on the pillows, her crochet hook and yarn ball clattering against the hardwood as it fell. That’s when she heard the shower running and Sam’s humming. She perked up a bit, sitting up in the bed and anxiously waited for Sam to get out of the shower. 10 minutes had gone by, the shower finally turning off, then the bathroom door opened a minute later revealing a freshly showered Sam in just his boxers.

“Sammy!” He had turned away from his dresser towards her and opened his arms for a hug, knowing she needed one. She scrambled out of bed and ran straight into his open arms. Y/N was genuinely happy for the first time in two months. “I missed you so much, honey.”

“I missed you too, sugar. So much.” Sam was peppering light kisses wherever he could reach. He didn’t stop until he heard her giggling. He gently grabbed her face and made her look in his eyes, “Steve said you weren’t doing well, you wanna talk?” she knew he was concerned so she nodded.

“Can we cuddle while we talk?”

“Of course we can, let me just put on some clothes.”

Sam had quickly gotten dressed, throwing on a random pair of sweatpants and an Airforce t-shirt before getting into bed next to Y/N. The two of them laid on their sides, facing each other. They talked for literal hours, about anything and everything. She told him how her nightmares were worse than before, that she had a hard time sleeping a full night because of her memories of Hydra. She told him that she didn’t feel free anymore, that she felt like Hydra was still breathing down her neck. He had told her that he felt isolated and incredibly lonely on his mission. That he was physically hurting because he couldn’t contact her or anyone else on the team. He told her that his nightmares about Riley had come back, that he had a hard time sleeping on the bed in the safe house and resorted to the floor again.

They both helped each other through some intense emotions, validated each other’s emotions and feelings, laughed at each other’s jokes and then just enjoyed each other’s company. Sam’s large warm hand found its way to rest on her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her cheekbone, looking right in her eyes, nothing but admiration and adoration for her.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” She asked with a nervous giggle.

“No, there’s nothing on your face. I was just admiring what was in front of me,” Sam said, “Can I not admire you?” Her face flushed, pushing her face into his chest.

“You are so annoying,” She whined.

“What? You’ve never admired me before?” He teased her. She lifted her head back up to look at his face again, her head slightly tilted.

“I’ve admired your ass,” She teased back. Sam started to hysterically laugh.

“Wow, I was not expecting that to come out of your mouth. Sugar, you dirty girl!”

“What? You have a nice ass! what do you call it again? The round brown?”

“And I’m the annoying one?” They joked and laughed for a bit longer before finally settling down and relaxing once more. “I’m serious though, I wanted to admire you. I missed you and your beautiful self, it was a long two months.”

She let out a hum of agreement, “I find comfort in you,” she admitted, “So please stop me if I’m reading this situation wrong,” she whispered. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. She leaned up, glancing at his lips then back in his eyes. The furrow in Sam’s brow softened, instead of her kissing him, Sam was the one that connected their lips. It was gentle, sleepy and slightly sloppy but neither of them cared. He slowly pulled away causing her to chase his lips. “Why’d you pull away?” She whined.

“I need air, sugar. If you want me to keep kissing you I need to be breathing,” Sam was breathless but he still managed to chuckle. He sat up in the bed, Y/N following him. He pulled her onto his lap, their chests touching, barely any distance between them. She pressed their lips together once again, this time the kiss was much more heated. Teeth clashing, tongues colliding, hands wandering and grabbing whatever they could. The two had their shirts pulled off within minutes, flinging them across the room. As Sam’s hands went for her bra, his door swung open, causing the two to yell out, Sam wrapping a blanket around her to cover her top half.

“Oh God, I am so sorry! I couldn’t find either of you so I came in here. I was not expecting that to happen,” Steve rambled, his face bright red, his hands over his eyes.

“What’s with all the yell-holy shit! Bird brain is getting some!” Tony laughed as he peaked over Steve’s shoulder.

“Oooh, who is it?! Is it that agent that was eyeing him last week?” Natasha’s voice sounded from the hall. Her head soon appeared in the doorway, her face bright red from the hysterical laughter that spilled from her lips. “Y/L/N? I called it months ago!”

“Get out! All of you, get out!” Sam shouted at all of them. “Friday, shut the door and lock it!” The AI did as she was told, the door slamming shut and the lock clicking.

“That was so embarrassing! Why didn’t you lock the door before?” She whined, hiding her face in his shoulder.

“I didn’t think this would happen. The woman of my dreams, half naked in my lap, willingly making out with me? Never expected that one, sugar,” Sam replied, humor laced in his voice. 

“The man of my dreams, half naked under me, willingly making out with me? Never expected that one, honey,” She mocked. She slowly trailed kisses from his shoulder, up his neck, across his jaw and back to his lips.

“Now, where were we?” Sam asked against her lips.

“I don’t quite remember, maybe you can jog my memory?” She retorted, planting chaste kisses on his lips between every few words. His hands slid up from her waist to the band of her bra, finally unclasping it and pulling it off.

“It would be my pleasure.”

[ichorai]

red dress ; sam wilson.

track seven of DEAR SCIENCE.

pairing ; sam wilson x enhanced!gn!reader

synopsis ; there’s no better time to flirt with your partner than while running for your life, was there?

words ; 1.1k

themes ; fluff, mild action/comedy

warnings / includes ; cursing, guns/mild violence, chemical smoke bombs, reader is an enhanced avenger woohoo, reader is also super flirty in this one and sam has just about had it !

main masterlist.

Sam was sick of you. 

Sick of you and your flirtatious comments, your infuriating ability to be so nonchalant while on the very precipice of getting shot to death, and, most of all, he was sick of the fact that you could run faster than him. Damn you and your enhanced abilities.

“Pity you had to ditch your wings back there. Guess you’re stuck running with me, huh?” you easily said while sprinting beside him, expertly dodging a round of bullets fired by the HYDRA agents chasing after you. “Oh, and can I just say that you look really good today? Did you get a haircut?”

Sam didn’t ever think that somebody could be more ridiculously difficult during his mission than Bucky. Well, it seemed like he proved himself wrong on that one.

“ARE YOU SERIOUSLY FLIRTING WITH ME RIGHT NOW?” he all but screamed, clearly out of breath and quite salty at the fact that you seemed perfectly fine. “SHIT!” 

A round of bullets embedded itself into the cement walls just behind him as he skirted to the side, and you yanked him along with a derisive snort. He swore his heart was just about to explode through his chest—whether it was from the overexertion of running for so long or from your hands on his shirt collar, he couldn’t tell.

“If not now, when else?” you said, rifling through your pockets to whip out your homemade smoke bombs. “Don’t breathe this shit in, it’ll make you go all loopy.” With that, you pivoted and chucked the small smoke black spheres into the gaggle of HYDRA agents chasing after you, grabbing back onto Sam’s forearm to make a dash for it. 

From the corner of his vision, he could see a plume of cloudy white ash explode all over the corridor, followed by the severely dry coughs of your pursuers. It nearly horrified him to hear you start laughing, chest heaving with comical chuckles, hair streaking away from your face as you darted out the building.

“Do you ever take anything seriously?” he asked incredulously, hot on your heels. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, we almost died!”

The wide smile you sent him made his breath falter in his throat—or maybe that was just because he was drop-dead exhausted now. 

“Key word is almost, Sam!” you bumped your hip against his when he slowed down, leaning against a street lamp in a desperately futile effort to catch his breath. “You never answered my question.”

Your mission partner sent you a withering stink eye. Here he was, almost wheezing his lungs out, and you were still prancing around as if you hadn’t just sprinted for an hour straight. It bothered him that you were just so unfazed by it all. Sam was beginning to wonder if you were some sort of artificial intelligence experiment gone wrong. That would certainly explain your inhumane enhanced abilities. “What question?”

“Did you get a haircut?”

Much to his own dismay, he coughed out something akin to a laugh. “I can’t believe you. Yes, I got a haircut. Happy?”

You beamed brightly. “Very. You look good.”

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, righting himself back to his full height. “Thanks. For the smoke bombs. Didn’t know you had those on you.”

“Would’ve pulled them out sooner, but I liked running with you. That, and I didn’t want you to accidentally get hit with the chemicals—got some powerful stuff in there that slows your inhibitions down until you’re passed out. Harmless long term, though—I’m sure those fuckers will be up and running no problem in a day or two.” You nodded once, before sparing him another glance. “I guess that's the mission accomplished for us. So, you ready to head back or are you still catching your breath? Steve and Bucky are probably waiting for us at the compound now.”

The glare he fixed you with made a smile crook at the corner of your lips. “Not everyone’s enhanced like you, you know. I feel like I’ve just been set on fire.”

“Mmh, explains why you’re smokin’ hot.”

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed in exasperation, throwing his hands up into the air. “Do you flirt with all your mission partners like this?”

Firmly, you shook your head, a lighthearted grin still etched into your mouth. “Only the insanely attractive ones.”

“Color me flattered,” he said dryly, before rolling his shoulders back. “Alright, let’s go.”

As the two of you began walking in tandem, you queried, “You telling me you’re not interested? I’ll stop if you tell me to.”

Almost on reflex, Sam was about to tell you that no, he wasn’t interested in the slightest. But when he spared you a glance, taking sight of your windswept hair, your curiously excited eyes, the slight pucker to your wolfish grin, the way the sun kissed itself golden over your skin… he found his words lodged uncomfortably in his throat. And, he begrudgingly admitted to himself, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your flirtatious little remarks every once in a while. 

“Never said I wanted you to stop,” he muttered, so quietly he briefly wondered if you’d heard him at all. The wide smile you wore told him that you did—but then again, you were always smiling around him. There was no telling with you, honestly.

You bumped your shoulder against his. “You like me,” you said, more of a statement than anything, a teasing lilt to your words.

“Don’t push it,” he warned, all bite and no bark. 

“Alright,” you whistled, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I’m thinking we should go to that new vegan restaurant like three blocks away from the compound for dinner. I heard they make a mean pad thai.”

Leave it to you to casually talk about vegan cuisine when a dozen armed HYDRA agents were ready to blow your heads off. Sam sighed. Pad thai did sound good right about now. “Fine. But it’s not a date.”

“Oh, it’ll so be a date.”

“It’s not a date,” he repeated, but could feel the beginnings of a weary chuckle bubbling up his throat.

You hummed. “Mmkay, whatever you say, handsome. Let’s just get back to the compound. I’m in dire need of a shower.”

Sam didn’t want to admit it, but he was very much looking forward to your ‘most-definitely-not-a-date’ date.