Marvel: Reader Inserts

Mother Doesn't Always Know Best ~ Sam Wilson x Reader

 Word Count: 1,600ish

Request: who has a negative mother? Like her mom calls her and he overhears the mean things being said to her and comforts her?

Notes: I hope this isn't utter crap. It's my first Sam Wilson one shot. So please be kind.

~~~

"I just think that if you dressed nicer, you would already be married," your mother told you over the phone.

You bit down on your lip as you paced in the compound. Your mother's daily calls were never something you looked forward too. Even though you were an Avenger, nothing you did was ever good enough. You weren't exactly getting up there in age, but to her you were getting too old to get married. You didn't dress nice enough to find anyone in her opinion. And you were in a male profession, not one any female should be in.

"Or maybe if you stopped spending your days working out and shooting guns, you'd actually be found attractive," she continued. "You need to be focused on becoming more like a house wife. That will make the men flock to you."

"Mom, I really don't—"

"There's Matthew Brawnson. He owns the bar in town and he's single. I've heard his looking for a wife, that he wants to have children. If you would just come home—"

"I gotta go, mom. Talk to you later."

You quickly hung up. Pinching the bridge of your nose you let out a loud sigh.

"You okay there, Y/N?" Sam wondered as he walked in the room.

"Yeah," you glanced up at him with a fake smile. "Just great."

"Then why the dramatic sigh as I entered the room?"

"It's nothing, just my mother. I'm handling it."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

"Sam. It's fine."

"If you say so." He walked closer to her. He gently put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm here if you need anything, okay?"

"Thanks Sam." You showed a tight-lipped smile. "But I'm fine."

~~~

For some reason, your mother decided to get to get worse after that phone call. She would call whenever she felt like it, even while you were on missions or in the middle of the night. Thankfully, because of FRIDAY, she was not able to get through to you on missions. But you let her come through when she called at night. You learned quickly that it wasn't worth not answering, she would yell at you about it the next time you two spoke.

Sam could see that something was taking a toll on you. Your shoulders were constantly slumped, eyes tired with purple bags lining them. Your smile wasn't as real as he knew it could be and you were shutting everyone out, opting to talk on the phone constantly with someone. He was growing more and more concerned for your wellbeing and safety.

It was the middle of the night and he needed to get something to drink. The compound was dark all but a single lamp in the living room on. He cautiously came closer. As he did, he noticed you hunched over in the corner of a couch, face buried into one of the pillows. Your breaths were hitched as if you were ending a crying spell.

"Y/N?" He whispered, coming around the couch to sit beside you. "Are you alright?"

"What?" You rasped as you lifted your head to confirm his suspicions. "Oh, hi Sam." You quickly began to wipe your face off. "Wha—"

"Stop doing that." Sam gently grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face. "You don't need to hide anything from me."

"I'm fine."