#falcon

[fireinmoonshot]

patience, baby | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: After escaping the Red Room, Bucky Barnes became a father figure to you. He'd never approve of you dating Joaquín Torres... but you have to come clean to him about it eventually. Warnings: Mentions of the Red Room, brainwashing and killing people. Reader was brainwashed and has killed before. Word Count: 1.7k A/N: Another request from a lovely anon 💗 This was fun to write. I've missed writing Bucky. I will definitely be writing for him again once Thunderbolts comes out and my Bucky Barnes obsession is reborn... Joaquín is extra cheeky in this one as well. I adore him. This is perfectly timed to be in celebration of him being in Avengers: Doomsday!

When Bucky had first introduced you to Joaquin Torres, he hadn’t thought much of it. The kid was the new Falcon, but he was also annoying as hell. It was only because of Sam that he’d bothered to introduce the two of you in the end.

Sam had insisted on it, saying that it would be good for both you and Joaquin to get to know one another. You were similar ages and could learn from each other. “Joaquin could do with some tips from someone like her,” Sam had said, and Bucky had relented eventually. He’d assumed that, since he was like a father figure to you, that Joaquin might be like a brother to you. You never really knew your biological family, so he convinced himself that this might be good for you.

You’d been through a lot in your life, being raised in the Red Room. Once you’d gotten out, Bucky had been there to help you through it. He understood what it was like to be brainwashed, to do things and not realise you were doing them. He’d helped you the best way he knew how. 

It was exactly why he was so protective of you. The second he realised he was wrong about all that, though, he regretted ever introducing you. 

He’d seen you staring across the room at Joaquin while he was training with Sam, trying to learn a barrel kick on solid ground before trying it in the air. After the accident, Joaquin had to take time off to recover, so he’d been hitting the gym pretty regularly to get his strength back now that he was healed.

The look on your face told Bucky everything he needed to know. 

“Stop that,” Bucky had said, placing his hands on your shoulders and spinning you to face him so that you would stop watching Joaquin. “None of that, okay?”

You raised your eyebrows and shook off his grip. “None of what, Bucky?” You said, as if you didn’t know what he was talking about – the fact that you’d been caught staring at Joaquin. And who could blame you? The man was an incredible fighter and it wasn’t your fault that he’d worn a sleeveless shirt to training.

He pointed a finger over towards Sam and Joaquin. “None of that. He’s a kid, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically he is also an Avenger…”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “Don’t even start.”

Luckily, you had dropped it after that – much to Bucky’s glee (if he even had such an emotion, you thought). You’d gone back to training with Bucky and tried your best not to let your eyes wander across the gym to where Joaquin was training.

Behind his back, though… well, what Bucky didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? 

Whenever Bucky wasn’t watching, you and Joaquin would spend time together. The more Bucky trusted you, the more lenient he was with you spending your time outside the Avengers HQ – as if you weren’t a grown adult. If he’d known you were spending that time with Joaquin, you knew he wouldn’t be so calm about it. 

It didn’t take you very long to fall for Joaquin, or for him to fall for you. Even though he knew your past, he knew the rough details about who you were and what you’d done, he didn’t seem to care. All he wanted to do was to sweep you off your feet every single day. Sometimes, quite literally.

For the first time in your life, you felt human. 

It was that fact that made you realise that you needed to tell Bucky. You couldn’t keep a secret like this from him any longer. He’d want you to be happy, you knew that. In time, he’d warm up to Joaquin, you hoped. 

Joaquin meets you in the corridor outside the gym, a cheeky grin on his face as usual. He glances around to make sure no one is watching before he sweeps you into his arms, pulling you to his chest and brushing his lips over yours.

“Be careful, baby,” you murmur against his lips. “This is not the way I want Bucky to find out about us.” 

He pulls away reluctantly, a smile on his face yet again. “Sorry, I just can barely keep my hands off of you. I haven’t seen you in three days since I’ve been away with Sam and I’ve missed the feeling of you in my arms.”

His words set butterflies off in your stomach and you can’t stop yourself from leaning in to peck his lips. His hold tightens on you as you do and he attempts to deepen the kiss into something more but you pull away, leaving him pouting.

“Patience, baby,” you hum. “You’ll get plenty of kisses later when we aren’t right outside the room where Sam and Bucky are, okay? Can you be patient for me?”

Joaquin nods his head without hesitation. It’s taking all his self control not to pull you into the nearest storage closet and show you how unwilling he is to be patient right now. 

You place your hands on his chest and push him away from you gently. “Let’s go and see how this is going to play out…”

He reaches down and takes your hand. Your head snaps towards him. Does he seriously think holding your hand is a good way to break the news to Bucky?

“It’s a compromise,” Joaquin explains. “You won’t let me push you against this wall and kiss you properly, so I’m holding your hand when we walk in there. I’m not accepting any argument you might be thinking up in that gorgeous head of yours.” 

Then he starts leading you into the gym, pulling you along behind him. You laugh to yourself and hurry to catch up with him so that you can walk side by side. 

Bucky and Sam are standing across the gym near the lockers, talking amongst each other. Bucky’s back is to you, meaning he thankfully can’t see the way you and Joaquin are walking towards him, hands entwined.

“So, Bucky,” you start as you reach the two of them.

He spins around, his eyes instantly falling on your hands. He stares at them for a second before his eyes meet yours. “What is this?” He asks, glancing between you and Joaquin.

“Joaquin and I are together,” you state, figuring it’s better to just rip off the bandaid and get everything out in the open straight away. That way, there’s no chance of Bucky butting in and trying to stop you from what you’re about to say.

Sam, standing just to the right of Bucky, stifles a laugh. He’d seen this coming from a mile away, but somehow Bucky hadn’t. He’s almost tempted to walk away and let Bucky handle this alone, but for the sake of Joaquin, he stays.

“You’re what?” Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “I thought I said–”

“I know what you said,” you interrupt. “I’m an Avenger and he’s just a kid. But he’s an Avenger, too. And we’ve been spending time together behind your back – that was my choice, not his – and we really like each other.”

You feel a little silly having to explain all this to Bucky. Is this what it would’ve been like if you’d lived a normal life and had to introduce your boyfriend to your dad as a teenager?

Bucky looks between you and Joaquin, a little lost for words. You’re dating someone. For the first time since Bucky has known you, you’re not entirely his responsibility. You’ve been like a daughter to him for years now… and Joaquin is apparently not like a brother to you like he’d expected.

“I don’t think-”

He’s cut off again by you interrupting him, but he can’t bring himself to be annoyed by it. You’ve learnt this from him. Not only some of your fighting techniques once you’d escaped the Red Room, but apparently some of his personality traits too.

“I’ve never been able to have a personal life, Bucky,” you state. “I’ve spent most of my life killing people without even knowing what I was doing. I’ve spent a lot of my life being brainwashed into someone else. Can’t you just let me have this?”

Your voice is soft and it’s just enough to break through Bucky’s walls. 

“Just… just go and start stretching for training,” he says gruffly. “And don’t hold hands when you’re around me. I don’t wanna see any physical contact, you hear me?”

A smile breaks out on your face and you look up at Joaquin, who is sporting a similar look on his own face. “I’ll take care of her, Bucky, I swear,” he replies.

Bucky waves his hand, dismissing you both and watching as you walk over to the sparring mats on the other side of the room to start stretching. He’s not mad, not really. Just concerned. But everything you said was right – you deserve to be able to have this, this piece of normality, and he can’t find it in himself to not let you, even if it terrifies him. 

“I don’t want him to hurt her, Sam,” Bucky murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Beside him, Sam laughs. “Buck, Joaquin wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“She’s been through enough,” Bucky continues as if he didn’t even hear Sam’s words. “The Red Room, everything that she went through there, learning to get past it all…”

Sam claps a hand onto Bucky’s shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Joaquin isn’t going to hurt her. Couldn’t you tell that just from the way he looks at her? The kid is head over heels. He practically worships the ground she walks on, man. She’s in good hands. Loosen up a little. It wouldn’t hurt you.”

He shoots Sam a look and steps aside, forcing Sam’s hand to drop from his shoulder. He can only hope that Sam is right about that, that you’re in good hands with Joaquin and that he’ll never hurt you.

“Tell him to watch his back if he does,” Bucky calls over his shoulder as he starts to walk towards you where you’re stretching. “Torres, get to your own mat! It does not take two people to stretch out a calf muscle!"

––––

Joaquín Torres Tag List (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@sidkneeeee @dead-inside-but-happy @lay-lay-5 @marchingicenotes7 @phucboy @davinashifts333 @lomlbuckybarnes @laurenjbb @chansburgah @blackwidownat2814 @mischiefmanaged71 @madzlovez @marvelwitchergilmore @brittnicki @rheas-ripley @bcystar @victorsbathroomstall @giona45-5

[eloquentlytired]

this my ride or die for the rest of the month

i think ur oral fixation surprises both you and joaquin when you take his dog tags into ur mouth and suck on them. they're just dangling in your face how could you ever resist

oh my god?? my jaw is on the floor. this is insane. i love it. (18+)

it wasn’t like you could stop yourself.

you were already a little out of it—joaquín had been treating you too good all night. from dinner, where he played footsie with you under the table until your heel slid just a little too high, leaving him red-faced, to the way he kissed you against the door before you could even get your keys out. and now, after everything, after he’s had you gasping and writhing beneath him, you’re both wrecked and breathless, tangled together in the sheets, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his hips roll against yours.

it’s a sweet pace, a little sloppy, his rhythm faltering as his body trembles. he’s close. you can tell by the way his huffs turn into short, needy whines.

joaquín loves missionary, loves looking at you, touching you. but right now, his eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed tight as his fingers tangle in your hair, cupping your jaw like he can’t bear to let go.

every thrust rocks you against the mattress, the old frame creaking beneath you both. the headboard knocks against the wall in time with your moans, the wet, desperate sounds between you filling the room. and over it all, there’s the soft, steady clinking of his dog tags.

your gaze drops from his face to the chain hanging around his neck. the tags sway with every movement, catching the faint light from the window, gleaming silver against the tan of his chest. it’s distracting, the way they dangle just above your lips, taunting you. you don’t think—just act—lifting your head as he drives particularly deep, parting your lips so the tags graze your skin, clinking against your teeth before you take them fully into your mouth.

it takes joaquín exactly two seconds to notice.

the slight tug at his neck drags him forward, and his eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused at first until he sees—

oh.

a shudder wrecks through him, his hips stuttering to a halt as a deep, broken groan spills past his lips. he stares down at you, panting, his dog tags resting on your tongue, your lips wrapped around the cool metal. you stare back, never breaking eye contact as you flatten your tongue against them, tracing over the engraved letters of his name and military rank. captain torres.

the taste is sharp, bitter and metallic, and you moan around it, letting the sound vibrate against the chain. his hand tightens in your hair, fingers flexing.

"qué… qué haces?" joaquín rasps, voice wrecked, thick with something he doesn’t fully understand yet. his brows knit together, but the heat in his gaze betrays him.

you hum around the tags, sucking lightly before letting them drag against your lips as you pull back just enough to murmur, "couldn’t help it. they were just… there."

joaquín lets out a choked noise, somewhere between a curse and a groan, his grip on you tightening. he presses his forehead against yours, exhaling shakily.

"dios mío…"

his breath is hot against your skin, his chest heaving, but you don’t let up. you close your lips around the tags again, sucking, a little filthier this time, pulling him down with you. his chain tugs against the back of his neck, making him swallow hard. his hips jerk forward on instinct, and you sigh through your nose at the way his cock fills you again, deeper than before.

joaquín doesn’t even try to hold back his groan this time. his fingers tighten around your hand beside your head, gripping like it’s the only thing grounding him. then your nails scrape against his scalp, urging him on.

that does it.

he snaps his hips forward, rutting into you with a newfound urgency, his rhythm completely wrecked. the bed creaks louder, his moans slip freer, and you’re right there with him.

he’s never going to be able to wear these without thinking about this moment again.

[backtothefanfiction]

Can I Sleep With You? | Joaquin Torres imagine

Summary: when all else fails, try sleeping next to someone who’ll hold you accountable

Warnings: fluff, funny jokes, miscommunication

Word Count: quick written in app couple hundred words

A/N: just before I go to sleep, you can have this little idea

You couldn’t remember the last time you had a good night sleep. Ever since you took up the offer to move onto the new Avengers campus for training, you just couldn’t seem to switch off. The bed was too new and firm. You felt self conscious knowing the rest of the team were in rooms around you, most of them practically strangers. Your muscles ached from hours of work outs and fight training. Your brain constantly going back over the things you’d done wrong. Your body ached. Your eyes were heavy, yet still you couldn’t sleep.

You had tried everything under the sun; reading, listening to audiobooks, so many different white noise sounds. You had even smothered your body in a lavender moisturiser to try and help you to relax. Still you tossed and turned and ended up staring at the ceiling in frustration.

On night three, you decided you’d had enough.

You checked the time on your phone, 12:15am, before shooting Joaquin a text.

Y/N: Hey, you still up?

Joaquin: Yeah, why?

You didn’t bother to message back and explain. Instead you got up, slipped your feet into your sliders next to the bed and went down the hall to his room; where you knocked and waited patiently.

“Hey,” he whispered into the silent hallway, “what’s up?”

“Can I sleep with you?”

He took a step back, his eyebrows raising as he looked you up and down, his eyes taking in your bedtime look.

“I mean, I’m not opposed, but surely if you were gonna come use me for a late night booty call, you could have at least dressed up a little and treated me to some lingerie.”

“Uh, what? No.” you quickly said, shaking off his comment. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay, then what did you mean?”

“I mean sleep. Like actual sleep. I feel like I’ve had maybe three hours sleep total in the last three days and I’m desperate.”

“And sleeping in bed with me is gonna help?” he fished, looking for your reasoning.

“Look, I’m just weirded out being in a new place on my own okay. I just want to cuddle up in bed with my best friend and feel safe so I can sleep.”

He softened then, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Come on then,” he said, stepping back and ushering you inside.

His bedsheets were all ruffled where he’d been chilling in bed, winding down to go to sleep, the bedside lamp on washing the room in a soft yellow light.

“I didn’t interrupt your late night porn routine did I?” You joked, wanting to diffuse the small amount of tension you’d brought into the room from invading his space.

“Oh no, I finished that about an hour ago,” he teased.

“Good thing this wasn’t an actual booth call then,” you said back, before climbing into the bed and shuffling to the far side that hadn’t been touched.

“Oh don’t worry, I could have gone again,” he teased back, flashing you a playful smile. You rolled your eyes at him before fluffing the pillow and lying down in it comfortably. “You need anything else?” he asked as he prepared to climb in next to you.

“Nah, I think I’m good,” you said.

“Just that cuddle then.” he said with a nod, turning the light off and shuffling close to spoon you. You both shuffled about a little until you were completely comfortable, the dark quiet of the room blanketing you both and making the moment feel far more intimate than you’d originally imagined this being. “You called me your best friend,” he finally said quietly into you ear.

“Yeah, I did.” you said back, in the same hushed tone. “Is that okay?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to say it back.” he joked and his breath tickled the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that relaxed you, your body folding into his and his arm wrapped tighter around you to pull you into his chest.

“Good night, Joaquin.” you finally said into the darkness.

“Good night, Y/N.” he said contently back.

[translatemunson]

falling for you

or 3 times you fell for joaquín + the 1 time he fell for you

joaquín torres x female!reader cw: female!reader, mentions of a dress, no description of reader's feature (tried to keep it as open as possible), faintings, stupid ideas, fluff

The first time it happened, it was a coincidence.

You were watching a debrief standing on your feet — the room was packed, which was a little bit unusual — when your vision started to go black. You tried to hold on into anything, but it was too late to save yourself from a nasty fall.

One minute you’re watching the debrief, the next you have three concerned faces around you from above. You’re definitely on the floor. The lady murmurs a quiet “Thank god.”

“Hey,” Joaquín called your name softly, entering your line of sight, “you alright, chica?”

“Yeah, I just,” you felt a pair of hands supporting your back while you sat up, “low blood pressure.”

“You sure?”

“Afirmative.”

Your answer was enough for the two people to turn their attention back to the presentation. Joaquín watched you closely, helping you to get back on your feet. The debrief was going full force in the background, and while you knew you could pick up the reports and images later, you made the decision to stay until the end. A Lieutenant offered his chair for you, and you’re able to watch everything.

When you were walking back to the Captain America headquarters on the compound, Dana, one of the Senior Intelligence Officers you worked closely with, intercepted you. “Hey, don’t go around skipping lunch anymore.”

“I didn’t, I had a snack between tasks,” you explained yourself.

“I see.” She pointed towards your files and the tablet screen on your hands. “You should’ve seen how Captain Joaquín Torres catched you like, wow, so fast. Like he was paying attention to you, not to the Admiral.”

“You’re crazy,” you scanned your badge on the door. “I promise to have lunch with you tomorrow.”

“I know where you work, girl,” she joked and made her way back to her side of the compound.

You laughed it off. Yeah, no, Dana was definitely crazy. You worked closely with Captain America and the Falcon, but you were just there, in the background, helping with security systems, maps, basically being their eyes and ears when they were on the field.

However, maybe Dana was right: once you reached your table, you found a bottle of Gatorade and a package of salted nuts, with a small note, “Hope this helps” followed by a smiley face and an attempt of drawing a little falcon.

Dana made sure you didn’t skip any meals or anything, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of her words and Joaquín’s action. So you decided it was worth it to test if her observation was right.

On Wednesdays, if they weren’t out of town or the country for a mission, Sam would bring Isaiah to the compound for a challenging training session. Most of the attendees would barely survive it, and it was your perfect excuse to test the theory.

You were just on the outside of the ring, watching Isaiah point out the flaws and, well, mostly the flaws, on each persons’ fighting technique. You stopped just a few feet from Joaquín, checking the corners of your vision to make sure he was still there.

One moment you were fine, the next your body was falling backwards, slowly. And then two arms were locked around your shoulders and you missed hitting the floor — again.

“Shit, are you ok?” Joaquín quickly got you up and led you to a bench.

“Yeah, sorry. I got lightheaded after my round,” you delivered your line like you planned, no more than an hour ago. “Thanks for catching me. Again.”

“Oh, no worries. Do you want to see a doctor or anything? Maybe you should.” He looked quite concerned.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll just get more water and probably tap out my next round.”

“That’s wiser,” he got up and looked over his shoulder, to where Sam looked a little bit suspicious, and added, “you did good today. So pat yourself on the back.”

“Thanks, Joaquín.”

You never got out of the training room so fast in your life. Dana totally skipped the training — her middle forty joints were her excuse —, but was happy to hear all the details over dinner at her place — with her husband spying to understand why you would be so secretive with girls’ talk. Until he caught up and gave his insights: you were either lucky that the lightning struck twice at the same place, or Dana was really right.

“You know I’m right, I was right when I met you,” she pointed out.

“Even if you’re right,” you let your head fall into your hand, “I can’t do this.”

“Why not? You clearly have feelings for him,” her husband added.

“Because I am me. C’mon, guys, the Falcon dating a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, yeah, of course, very likely to happen.” You rolled your eyes. “He just probably has, like, some enhanced senses, I don’t know, anything they are doing to the future Avengers these days is definitely working.”

“You’re so silly, sometimes,” Dana poured more wine into your glasses. “Hear me out, you could try during the upcoming gala. You were invited, right?”

“Oh, I know this look,” he pointed to his wife. “Buckle up, kid.”

The Annual S.H.I.E.L.D. Gala was hosted for the workers, but also for the Senators and politicians to do business with VIP people. A S.H.I.E.L.D. officer would just be another face amongst the crowd, which granted you the free pass to pick something that would steal all the attention from a certain hero. Something breathtaking, but also subtle.

You got your hair and make up done the way you like, all in to complement your green dress, in a shade it would both compliment your skin and send a message. And the dress itself was highlighting your best features, while also showing some skin on the neckline and the back. Thinking backwards, you find this decision kinda stupid, but Dana was convincing enough.

“So, the other day we were at the grocery store and—”, Dana’s husband was talking about their funny encounter when she shushed him.

“Don’t look now, but a birdie is moving towards us,” she whispered, her eyes locked on Joaquín.

“I’ll make a fool of myself!”

“You won’t! And Josh will hold you if anything goes wrong.” She pressed her champagne flute to her lips. “Ok, now.”

You took a step back, just enough to look like you were out of balance, before letting your body fall again. You were prepared for the worst, but magically a pair of hands found their way to your exposed back. You opened your eyes and had an upside down look on Joaquín.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” His smile was playful. He helped you get back on your feet. “Are you alright?”

“Better now,” you batted your eyelashes and smiled. Joaquín looked amazing on the all dark blue suit he picked for the night. His hair was stylised, and he looked like a supermodel.

“Oh, Captain Torres, she is so stubborn. I told her to go see a doctor, but she refused to,” Dana was giving her all for a Best Supporting Actress that night. And her husband was holding his expression as best as he could.

“Funny, I told her myself a few weeks ago,” his eyes narrowed, and you prayed that your cheeks didn’t start burning red.

“You know what? I’m gonna go check if my blood pressure isn’t acting up again,” you went for a not so subtle French exit. “I’ll see you guys later.”

You slipped out of the small circle before your face caught on fire. You found the bathroom, taking slow deep breaths in front of the mirror. No, Dana couldn’t be right. You were in a room full of people, and still Joaquín was the one acting faster enough to prevent a disaster. No, it was just luck, right?

There was no way he was paying that close of an attention to you, to your moves, to how you were standing in the middle of a crowd.

Oh, damn.

Dana was right.

And you weren’t making your life easier when you walked out of the bathroom, going after a drink for you to drown the feelings you tried to keep on the bay.

It was almost two weeks later when you let yourself fall into the couch in a small room you’ve made a base of on the coast of Mexico. You were out there for a mission, and the last fifteen minutes pumped more adrenaline into your bloodstream than your whole life all together. You watched Sam and Joaquín take off and fly back to the base.

And your feelings? Unfortunately you’ve been carrying them around every single day, trying to not show how you’ve fallen for Joaquín faster than you could’ve imagined. And now you were splashed all around the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Hey! Did you see me kick that guy? It was awesome!” You’re not surprised when Joaquín entered the room, helmet in hand. Still high on his own adrenaline, as per usual.

“Yeah, I saw that, Torres.” You agitated your hand, and he noticed you on the couch.

“¿Estás bien, chica?”

“Yup, just tired.”

“I know you’re not really fainting,” he blurted out, not really looking at you anymore. He was more concerned with removing his wings after a long day. “I mean, the first time you did look like a ghost, but after that? You were faking it, right?”

Your heart froze. You would look better if you’d come clean, right?

“First time was real, but the other two were my friend’s idea. She had this stupid theory,” and you shut yourself up before the explanation started to sound cheesy. “Nevermind.”

“No, por favor, enlighten me. What was her theory?”  

“No, it’s so stupid.”

You tried to shake it off, but Joaquín and his amazing agility got him closer to you in no time. His attentive hazel eyes were on you, and your cheeks heated up.

“She said you probably catched me the first time because you were paying attention to me, not to the debrief,” your voice died on your throat at every word, until the silence filled the space between you too. “So the other two times, it was a test.”

Joaquín watched you, expressionless face.

“So you were, let me get this right,” he took two steps back, then moved his body back and forth, and looked at you, “Oh my, Joaquín, please, I’m gonna…”

While you knew you fell like a potato bag every single time it happened in the last few weeks, Joaquín gracefully fell over your body on the couch, his arms catching him and avoiding a nasty collision between you. His face was a few inches from yours, the biggest grin on his lips, and if he got one inch closer, you bet he could’ve heard your heart beat.

“I think I reenacted it perfectly.”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” you tried to avoid his eyes. “I was just…”

“You were…” He was still pushing you to say what has been boiling over for weeks now.

“I told you I was faking it! What else do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. You tell me, cariño.”

You rolled your eyes. Such a tease. And you had to fight back.

“So you were really paying attention to me, hm?”

“What if I was?”

“It means Dana is right,” you rested your hands on his shoulders.

“Yeah, she is,” he looked from your eyes to your lips. “Please don’t do that again.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you wanted me to hold you,” his right hand held your waist, “or kiss you, you just needed to ask.”

You smiled.

Maybe you had fallen for Joaquín more than two times, but he definitely fell harder for you.

a/n: hope you guys liked it! i'm writing a few oneshots and drabbles with joaquín, and i hope to get them posted sometime next week. also huge shout out to @live-love-be-unique for the feedback and encouragement! you're all welcome to send some ideas or requests my way via asks or dm!

[galaxywannabe]

Munch O'Clock

Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joaquín comes back from his morning run hungry. He really should just let you sleep, but how else is he supposed to make sure his day starts off on the right track?

Warnings: 18+ contains smut mdni. Joaquín being the goofball boyfriend we all deserve. Reader identifies as a woman and has a vagina but there are no other physical descriptors as far as I'm aware!

Word Count: Roughly 2.5k

A/N: Ahhhh okay! So the idea for this came from this post and my addition to it, and then @moonymeloncholymoney suggested someone should write it, so I said fuck it and gave it my best go! And this is that! Constructive criticism is always welcome, and if you have something nice to say about it or you liked it please let me know! It feeds my soul and keeps me writing! Anyways I'm done yammering your ear off, enjoy!

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Joaquín gets up for his daily run stupid early, like, before the sun is even all the way up early, even on his days off. So naturally, when he arrives back at your apartment roughly 45 minutes after he left it, thoroughly sweating through his cutoff t-shirt despite the early spring chill, you're still fast asleep.

You are decidedly not an early riser, even on the days that you really should be, and accordingly your alarm isn't set to go off for another 3 hours - hours you intend to spend blissfully unconscious, dead to the world. That is, until you're startled awake with a yelp as your boyfriend tugs you by the ankles down to the foot of the bed. 

The transition from sleep to wakefulness is an abrupt one, the peace of unconsciousness ripped from your grasp in the span of a single second, and as you lift your head to meet the rich, brown puppy dog eyes of your boyfriend, you know there's only one culprit responsible. 

“Joaquín, I was sleeping,” you grumble, reaching up to rub the grit from your eyes as his expression turns sheepish.

“I know, mi amor, I'm sorry. You just kicked all the covers off yourself, and you looked so pretty laying there, and then before I knew it…” 

He gives you those innocent eyes again, like it was by complete accident that he ended up kneeling at the foot of your bed, your body dragged down the length of the mattress so your pelvis was directly in front of his face. You sigh, already knowing what's about to happen and resigning to your fate - as if it's such a chore being constantly lusted after by your beautiful boyfriend. 

“Was there something you needed at-” you turn your head to the alarm clock on your nightstand, the glaring red numbers a cruel reminder of the sleep you should be getting right now, “-5:56 in the morning?”

He hesitates for a moment, chewing his lip as he flicks his eyes between your face and the space between your legs, obviously conflicted. You can tell that he desperately wants to ask, but he's not sure if he should.

He really does look guilty for waking you up, and you feel bad as you watch him actively consider suppressing his desire so he doesn't inconvenience you. You were only being grouchy in a playful way, not actually trying to dissuade him.

You reach down for his hand resting on the mattress by your hip, taking it and squeezing reassuringly. “If you do need something, you can ask me, angel. I was just teasing, I won't be mad.”

He looks up at you, his gaze holding yours as if he's searching for the truth in your words. When he finds it, he seems to relax. His shoulders loosen a little, and there's a more obvious glint of excitement in his eyes as he looks back down at the part of your anatomy hidden by the gusset of your little sleep shorts.

He looks so gorgeous right now, even moreso than usual despite the high standard he sets. The sun is starting to rise, soft rays of light breaking through the blinds of your window and reflecting off his deep brown irises, highlighting the desperation there. He's still absolutely soaked through with sweat from his morning run, dark patches in the grey fabric around his chest and armpits from the exertion, and you can smell the musky tang of it from here, sharp and masculine in your nostrils, 100% Joaquín.

Setting off the whole image, the perfect cherry on top to his already devastating appearance, is the backwards baseball cap on his head, a few dark, sweaty curls flopping through the opening in the front and touching his forehead.

The slightly shy smirk he gives you as he finally decides to make his request is absolutely panty-melting, one big hand coming up to grip your inner thigh beneath the hem of your shorts, warm and possessive. “Breakfast?”

You almost let out a groan, but you don't want him to misinterpret it as anything other than completely positive, so you suppress it. Instead you just give him an amused little smile, anticipation fluttering in your gut as you raise one brow skeptically.

“That's what you want for breakfast, Joaquín?”

He nods enthusiastically, his eyes dancing with humor as he bows to kiss the exposed skin of your thigh gently. “Absolutely. I wanna start my day off right, angel. Gotta get in my fuckin’ Wheaties or whatever, so I can go crush the rest of my day.”

You laugh, shoulders shaking at the ridiculousness of that entire statement, your gaze fond even as you roll your eyes. “Is that what you're gonna tell Sam later, when you meet him down at the ring for sparring? That you've got an extra spring in your step because you ate your girl's pussy this morning?”

“If it means you'll let me do it right now, then yes, I absolutely will tell him that,” he answers, the look in his eyes completely serious despite his smile.

Horrified at just the mental image of such an exchange, you shudder, wrinkling your nose but still finding your boyfriend's desperation amusing. “Ew, no, please no, do not tell him that. I'll let you have it, just please don't tell Sam anything about our sex life ever.”

Joaquín’s eyes light up, a dog with a bone as his fingers skate up your hips to hook in the waistband of both your shorts and panties, stopping short of removing them until he has explicit permission. “Yeah? Deal.”

You can't help but snort, completely enamored by both the excited glint in his eye and the way he's willing to agree to whatever the hell you want as long as it gets his mouth on you. If you were a more scheming woman, perhaps you'd use that to your advantage, but as it stands you can never deny him anything when he looks at you like this.

Some days it's hard to believe you have a partner who wants you so badly all the time, but then you have a moment like this one, where he's on his knees by the end of the bed, still soaked in sweat from his workout but too desperate to wait another second, and you know it's genuine. He couldn't fake that pussy-drunk look in his eyes if he tried. 

“Alright then, deal. Go ahead, take what you want. It belongs to you anyways, you know that.”

You'd think you just offered him the keys to the city the way he's looking at you right now, a visible shudder wracking down his spine at your dirty words. He tugs your shorts and underwear down your legs like he's worried you'll change your mind, though over the course of your entire relationship you don't think you've ever given him reason to suspect you would.

The room air is a little cold against the heated, damp flesh between your legs, but in an instant he's so close that his warm breath is there on your skin, chasing away any chill. He looks up at you, waiting like he's giving you one more chance to back out. Like you ever would when there's head from Joaquín Torres on the table. 

“Go ahead, amor, have your breakfast. I think we both could call this a great start to our day, yeah?”

It's all the permission he needs, but he doesn't dive in the way he so clearly wants to, the way a person might be expected to given the slightly crazed look in his eyes. Even in a heightened state of arousal, Joaquín is all about savoring things, especially where you're concerned.

He starts with soft kisses on your plush inner thighs, scattering them sweetly on each side, slowly approaching his ultimate goal. Your legs instinctively part further for him, falling open on the mattress in an involuntary reaction to his touch, and he pats the outside of your thigh in approval as he continues to work his way up, his pace unhurried. 

Even when he gets there, he still doesn't partake quite yet, pausing to take in a slow inhale, a satisfied rumble going off in his chest at the scent of you. You can’t help but let out a small, flustered whimper, a blush rising to your cheeks; having a man be so unabashedly enthralled by your body is simultaneously incredibly flattering and a little embarrassing. There’s no shame on Joaquín’s face, though, just his half-lidded, hazy stare as he turns his eyes up to meet yours, dragging out the moment as you wait with anticipation for him to begin. Jesus.

Your boyfriend’s a bit of a hyperactive guy, always jumping around with boundless energy, but nothing shuts off his brain faster than eating your pussy. That’s not to say that he’s thoughtless about it - he’s not - or that he's not incredibly skilled at it - he definitely is. It’s just that when he’s doing this, it’s all he’s thinking about, and something about that sets every inch of your body on fire every time.

Either unwilling or unable to hold himself back anymore, your boyfriend lowers his face carefully to your center and licks a long, hot stripe from your hole to your clit, collecting the ample moisture you’ve already produced along the way, tasting it on his tongue. You know he makes a noise of satisfaction because you can feel the vibrations spread pleasantly through your skin, but you can’t hear it over the loud gasp that tears from your lungs, nor over your heartbeat thudding in your ears.

This burst of pleasure should not come as a surprise to you - Joaquín has probably eaten you out more just over the course of your relationship than most women experience in their entire lives, and it’s always incredible - but somehow despite their familiarity, his ministrations on your swollen flesh feel brand new. Rather than dipping low again for another taste, he lingers at the top of you, his tongue flicking against your clit this way and that, quick but gentle, careful not to overwhelm you. It’s a nice sentiment, but when he’s on you like this, it’s pretty much inevitable.

As he starts to work on you in earnest, suckling gently at your bundle of nerves and then shifting down to probe at your entrance to give you a moment of reprieve, you hit an infuriating conundrum. As is your instinct when in the throes of passion, you reach down to tangle your fingers in your boyfriend's hair, both to ground yourself and as an outlet for the restless energy thrumming through your veins. But just when your fingertips should be making direct contact with the soft, silky curls at the top of his head, you feel fabric beneath them instead, and you frown. 

An indignant whine breaks from your lips and, god help you, your ever-attentive angel of a boyfriend catches it even in the midst of his favorite activity. His eyes flit up to yours, and his face pulls back just a hair so he can speak without muffling his voice against your folds.

“Okay, querida?” he checks, his voice rough as his tongue flicks out subconsciously to gather some of the nectar shining on his lips.

You're about to grouse and tell him that the stupid damn hat needs to come off, to get it out of your way so you can hold on the way you like, but now that you're actually looking at him you feel indecision rising in your chest. Shit. He looks goddamn incredible like this. His lower face is glinting slightly in the early morning light with your arousal, which is obviously a sight to behold all on its own.

But when you take in the rest of him - the residual beads of sweat from his morning run still dripping down the side of his face, the workout clothes that he's too occupied to notice are sticking to his skin - it's even worse. And that damned hat, as inconvenient as its presence might be, is the most important part of this picture. 

It's just some old cap with the air force logo on it, probably pulled from the back of his closet and plopped backwards over his bedhead haphazardly before he left for his run. But goddamn, something about the fact that he's still got it on as he makes out sloppily with your cunt? It's debauched, it's filthy, and it's so incredibly hot.

Your mind spirals over this observation for several long seconds, wheeling between wanting his hair freed and needing the cap to stay on for the rest of his damn life, but to Joaquín it must seem like hesitation because he starts to pull away with concern. You shake your head urgently, reaching out in panic for the back of his head as if to keep his face back where it belongs. 

“Shit, no- I mean yes, everything is great! Sorry, I just looked down and got distracted by how pretty you are for a second. Please keep going.”

It's the truth, but you decide not to mention the hat specifically in case he gets self-conscious about it and tries to take it off. He quirks an amused brow at you like you're the biggest weirdo on the planet - which is rich given he's the one who literally woke you up just to eat you out first thing in the morning - but he seems comforted by your reassurance, and with a huff through his nose he obliges your request, getting back to work without another word.

As you watch him fall back into his rhythm, that damned ballcap perched tauntingly over his sweaty curls, you resign yourself to gripping the sheets instead to keep you grounded through the onslaught of pleasure, just this once. 

Joaquín makes you come hard on his lips and tongue twice before he's satisfied with his “breakfast”, and then he's dashing off to the shower to rinse off his workout, not even asking you to return the favor like the gentleman he is. As you listen to the water running in the other room, along with the muffled sounds of Joaquín singing off key, you reach your trembling fingertips out for your cell phone.

Despite your whole body still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasms, you hastily add about 10 new baseball caps to your shopping cart, making a mental note to order them while he's away on his next mission. Your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend has no idea there's about to be a new staple in his wardrobe, though you have a feeling if he knew the reason, there wouldn't be any complaints.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[nerdgirlbutinpink]

just putting it out there but what if joaquin torres and busy woman. not sure if its a perfect match but maybe an au?

wait i actually love this!!

i offer you this, please let me know if you want a part 2 and i’ll write it *insert mischievous fly rubbing hangs together*

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | 𝗷𝗼𝗮𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝘅 𝗚𝗡!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: cursing, fighting, angst, and angry y/n! and joaquin! not a warning but the song is titled busy woman but i tried my best to make this a gn!reader

𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“you know, if you weren’t so busy, we’d probably be having a great time right now.”

you roll your eyes, shoving your feet into your shoes as you balance your phone between your shoulder and ear. another meeting, another last-minute change of plans. you barely have time to glance at him before you press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“i know, i know. rain check?”

he just hums, watching you rush out the door like you always do. and you know it’s not fair.

it’s not like you don’t want to see him. of course you do. but between work, the endless responsibilities, the constant feeling that if you stop moving everything will fall apart—you just keep pushing him to the side, promising yourself you’ll make it up to him later.

but later keeps getting further away.

missed calls stack up. texts go unanswered for hours. plans get made, then rescheduled, then canceled. and through it all, joaquin stays. he stays with that half-amused, half-exasperated expression, hands in his pockets, waiting.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

until one night, he calls instead of texting.

“do you even wanna see me, or am i just here when you have a free second?”

his voice isn’t sharp, isn’t angry. it’s worse than that—it’s tired. worn down. like he already knows the answer but is asking anyway, just to hear you say it.

you shut your laptop, pressing your fingers to your temple. exhaustion seeps into your bones, but it’s not just from work anymore. it’s from this. from knowing you’re hurting him, knowing you don’t mean to, and knowing that doesn’t make it any better.

“joaquin, you know i do. i just—there’s so much going on.”

a pause. silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, before he exhales a quiet, bitter chuckle. the kind that isn’t really a laugh at all.

“yeah, baby, i know. you’re a busy woman.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, hating the way his words sink into your chest like a weight you can’t shake. because he’s busy too. he’s not just joaquin, the guy who leans against your doorframe with that teasing smirk. he’s the falcon. a superhero. he’s out there saving people, putting his life on the line, yet somehow—somehow—he still makes time for you.

and what do you do? you cancel plans. you leave his texts on read. you tell him next time like that’s a promise instead of another excuse.

he should be the one too busy for you. but he isn’t. he never is.

“joaquin, i—” your voice cracks, and you hate that you don’t even know what you’re about to say.

but what excuse could possibly be enough? what words could make up for the nights he’s spent wondering if he’s just another thing on your to-do list, something to be checked off when it’s convenient?

so when he sighs, low and tired, and says, “get some sleep, alright?” you don’t try to stop him from hanging up.

and when you’re left alone in the quiet, the weight of it all finally sinks in.

maybe the problem isn’t that you’re busy. maybe the problem is that, eventually, he’s going to stop waiting. and if you don’t figure this out soon, you’re going to turn around and realize he’s already gone.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

a/n: i tried to write this as the best i could, hope you like it >u<

[buckyytorres]

DANNY OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCED FOR AVENGERS DOOMSDAY

[marvel-yap-blr-the-cult]

Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan, official cast of Avengers: Doomsday

If Marvel has learned anything, it's not to separate Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie

[vyynn]

Sam: Cap, can I borrow a jacket-

Sam: Why are you standing against the closet awkwardly? Without a shirt?

Steve: Nothing! I was just....just deciding on what shirt to wear!

Sam, pushing Steve away: Alright then, I'll take a jacket. Let's see...shirts and pants. Oh the jackets are here, Bucky too! ....Bucky?

Bucky, sweating: Hey Wilson, this wasn't part of the plan.

[fireinmoonshot]

all this time | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Despite the fact that you're his older sisters best friend, Joaquín has always had a crush on you. Little does he know, you feel the same way. But how can either of you act on it when you can't hurt his sister? Warnings: Reader wears dresses, has hair long enough to at least reach her shoulders. Mentions of food. Joaquín being completely oblivious... other than that I think it's all fine! Word Count: 7.8k A/N: I think this is the longest fic I've ever posted on this blog (not including my multi-parters)... this was requested by a lovely anon and I started brainstorming the idea when I was at work the other day (plenty of time to think when I'm in the walk-in fridge) and then I got so hooked on the idea and it somehow became this almost 8000 word piece. I loved writing this one so much though. In this, I have named Joaquín's sister Catalina, nicknamed Lina – if this happens to be your name, feel free to just pick another name for her. It's just one I liked! I really hope everyone that reads enjoys this. It was a challenge to write but I loved every second of it! 💗

“It’s like the forbidden fruit, huh?” Marcos turns to Joaquin with a grin. He takes a sip of his beer and then points the bottle across the backyard towards where you’re standing by the back door of his parents house.

Joaquin frowns, his eyebrows knotting together and undoubtedly causing an expression to appear on his face that his mother would berate him about making in public. “What?”

Marcos points the bottle towards you again. “Catalina’s friend. She’s like the forbidden fruit. The most gorgeous girl here but the only girl that none of us can have, unless we want to deal with your sisters wrath. And no one wants Catalina’s wrath.” 

For a moment, Joaquin simply stares at his cousin. He can’t say any of the things that are currently swimming through his mind. Though Marcos deserves to hear all of them, none of them are particularly family friendly and there are several people sitting around the two of them that he’d rather not offend. 

“Don’t talk about my sisters friend like that,” is all he can manage before he picks up his own beer from the table and walks away, leaving Marcos staring after him, dumbfounded. 

He shakes his head as he walks over towards the barbecue where his uncle has just started to grill some meat. How his favourite uncle managed to have a son like Marcos, Joaquin will never be able to comprehend.

“What did he say now?” Uncle Jorge says, glancing over at Joaquin as he turns over a piece of meat. “There’s only one reason you would’ve walked over here and it’s not because you want to talk to your favourite tío.”

Joaquin chuckles. “Believe me, you don’t wanna know.”

He looks around the backyard, taking in the scene. His family, neighbours, friends, everyone he really cares about all in the same place, except for Sam – he’d been summoned away to help his sister and his nephews for the weekend. Despite his absence, this is a rare occasion, and one he’s glad to be experiencing.

He can’t help it when his eyes catch on you. You’re still standing over closer to the back door of the house with his sister, a drink in your hand. The sundress you’re wearing suits you a lot. The colour compliments your skin perfectly. The breeze blows some of your hair back off of your shoulders and his breath catches in his throat. He’s well aware the situation is all very similar to a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles. 

Joaquin has barely been able to take his eyes off of you ever since he first saw you arrive, and who can blame him when you look like that? To be fair… you always look gorgeous, but today you look especially gorgeous. 

The words Marcos had said trickle into his mind again and he winces a little. He wishes that people like Marcos didn’t get to enjoy looking at you when you looked so beautiful. 

“Joaquin, are you listening?” 

He blinks, tearing his eyes away from you and back to his uncle. “Sorry, I got distracted. What were you saying?”

His uncle looks over his shoulder, looking exactly where Joaquin had been looking, and chuckles to himself. “Yeah, distracted, sure. Can you pass me the tongs over there?”

Joaquin passes him the tongs, ignoring the comment about him being distracted, and forces himself to look away from you. Even when he hears you laugh and he wants nothing more than to look at you and see the smile on your face. He loves seeing you smile.

Thankfully, his uncle doesn’t say anything more about catching him staring at you. Joaquin helps him with grilling up the rest of the meat, completely unaware that you are now the one staring at him from across the yard.

You can’t help it – Joaquin is and always has been gorgeous.

You watch as a girl around Joaquin’s age, a few years younger than you, walks up to Joaquin where he’s standing near the grill with his uncle and starts making conversation. The feeling that settles in your chest isn’t an unfamiliar one, but it is unwelcome.

“Catalina,” you start, getting the attention of your friend. “Who’s that Joaquin’s with?”

She looks up from her phone at you and then across the backyard to where you’re looking, right at Joaquin. “Oh, I know her but I can’t remember her name,” she says, thinking for a moment to try and remember it but failing. “She’s the daughter of one of the neighbours, I think they live three doors up.”

You make a noise of understanding to let Lina know that you heard her but you can’t manage to tear your eyes away from Joaquin and the young woman. They’re both smiling as they speak. It’s when she reaches out and touches his arm that you force yourself to look away. You take a long sip of your drink to try and push down the feeling in your chest.

Catalina looks at you, amused. “Why are you asking?”

“No reason,” you shake your head, sipping your drink again just for something to do. “I just thought she looked familiar, but obviously not. I wouldn’t have seen her before.”

You can tell that Lina doesn’t believe a single word that you’re saying. She’s been able to read you like a book for over half of your lives at this point. You just hope that she’s not intuitive enough to realise that you have been harbouring a major crush on her little brother for most of that time, despite your exhaustive efforts to stop it.

You’ve known Joaquin for as long as you’ve known Lina. When you’d met her at school, she’d introduced you to her younger brother not long after. He had just been a kid, then – a young boy who wanted to follow his sister around all day. It had been fine as children, Joaquin almost becoming like a little brother to you too, but once you’d become teenagers and you and Lina just wanted to spend girl time together, things had changed.

When you’d sleepover at Lina’s house as children, it was fine. You didn’t care about Joaquin seeing you in your pyjamas or in the morning when you’d just woken up. As a teenager, though, those were things that started to matter to you. For the first time since you’d known Joaquin, you’d started to care about the way he saw you. It had all been downhill from there.

“Yeah, no reason, sure,” Lina huffs from beside you, putting her phone in the pocket of her shorts. She’s heard the exact same question from Joaquin while referring to people who were talking to you more times than she can count. He’d never managed to come up with excuses as to why he’d been asking, though. 

She reaches out and takes your now empty glass from you. You hadn’t even realised that you’d drained it completely while trying to distract from the conversation with her.

“I’m going to get us some refills,” she says, starting to walk back towards the house. “Go and talk to my brother, will you? He looks in need of saving, judging by the look on his face.” 

You watch her, confused, as she retreats inside the house. It’s only when she’s gone that you look back over at Joaquin. His uncle, who was standing beside him, has now disappeared, and the smiles that Joaquin had been giving the young girl have turned to grimaces, despite his best attempts to keep his facial expression neutral.

You don’t waste time, knowing there’s not long until Catalina returns with your new drinks, and start crossing the yard towards Joaquin. He sees you in his peripheral vision not too long before you reach him. He notices instantly that you look even more stunning in this outfit up close.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” you start, sounding not sorry at all. “But your sister is looking for you, Joaquin. She asked me to come and find you.” 

Joaquin looks between you and the girl. He’s so terrible, he can’t even remember the poor girls name. “Ah, duty calls,” he flashes the girl what he hopes is a genuine grin instead of the look that he’s sure was on his face before you arrived. “I’ll see you around.”

Smiling to yourself, you start to walk away, knowing that Joaquin will be following you. He falls into step beside you as you walk away from the grill and back towards the house. You feel his hand brush against your back, hovering behind you as you walk – a feeling you’re used to when you’re around Joaquin. 

“Lina isn’t looking for me, is she?”

“No, but she did sense you were in need of rescue.”

Joaquin laughs softly. “Ah, so she sent you. My knight in shining armour.”

You glance over at him as you stop just outside the back door of the house, not far from where you and Lina had been standing before. “I see a damsel in distress, I don’t hesitate.”

Something passes between the two of you as you look at each other, but as quickly as it came, it disappears. You’re both aware of it, of the spark of energy between the two of you. 

It’s the kind of feeling that you’d chased in several other men during your adulthood. None of your failed relationships had ever been able to create such a feeling, not even the best of them. Not even the one relationship you’d thought might turn into marriage and a future together. The one that Joaquin had seen you crying on Lina’s shoulder over when you’d had your heart smashed into a million tiny pieces.

Joaquin doesn’t like to think about that, though. Or any of your exes.

“So, are you enjoying the barbecue?” Joaquin asks in an attempt to break the silence.

You smooth your palms out on your dress, feeling them start to become sweaty with your nerves. You’re not sure exactly why you’re nervous – it’s just Joaquin, the same Joaquin you’ve known since you can remember. But there are tiny parts of him that are different. He’s an Avenger now. He’s the Falcon. He’d almost died a few months ago. The fact that you’re even here having this conversation still feels a little surreal to you. You remember sitting in the hospital waiting room holding Lina’s hand and trying to keep it together yourself when you were just as terrified as she was. 

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum, meeting his eyes briefly. “It’s good to see everyone.”

Joaquin nods. “Yeah, it’s not often everyone gets together like this. I–uh– I’m really glad you could make it,” he stumbles over his words a little. “Lina said you had to move some things around in your schedule to make it work, but I’m glad you did. It’d be weird without you here.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Weird without me?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, just cause… y’know… you’re practically part of the family.”

“Ah,” you nod, smiling a little. “I guess I am at this point.”

An arm drapes around your shoulder and you’re immediately torn out of the moment with Joaquin by Lina’s return. She hands your drink to you and smiles over at her brother.

“Did she save the day, little brother?” Lina asks, grinning at him.

You’ve always loved the relationship between Lina and Joaquin. They’ve had many an argument in your presence, mostly as teenagers, but as adults it’s fairly civil. Joaquin has always looked up to his older sister and Lina has always wanted to make a good impression on her younger brother. It made for a pretty happy relationship most of the time. It’s part of the reason you’ve never brought up your crush on him to Lina. You never want to come between them.

Joaquin nods. “Yeah, ‘course she did.”

“That’s our girl,” Lina says proudly, removing her arm so she can stand next to you properly. “How was your conversation with our neighbour? She’s cute, no?” 

You look between Joaquin and Lina, a little surprised that she’s bringing up the girl when she couldn’t even remember her name and even more surprised because she’d sent you over there to rescue Joaquin from that girl.

He raises his eyebrows at his sister. “If you like that sort of girl, sure. You asking for my opinion, Catalina? I thought you weren’t interested in dating anyone at the moment.”

Lina scoffs and waves her hand dismissively. “Not for me, you fool. I’m talking about you. I thought you told me that you wanted to start dating again now that you’re all healed up from your accident? Sam told me you have women and men lining up for you now that you’re the Falcon. He was worried it would go to your head.”

Joaquin opens his mouth and tries to come up with something to say but eventually settles on a very weak, “I did not say that!” He looks at you and then at his sister, internally cursing her out for saying that in front of you. Not that Catalina knew any better. Joaquin was very careful about keeping his crush on you a secret. 

“If you say so, little brother,” Lina shrugs her shoulders and then reaches down to take hold of your wrist. “I just saw Uncle Jorge put the burgers out on the table, let’s go and get some before my cousins raid the table and get them all first.”

Before you can say anything else to Joaquin, Lina starts dragging you away. You turn around and catch his eye as you walk away. Joaquin sends you a small wave, smiling at his sister and her ease to exit a conversation without a single thought. They’re more alike than Joaquin realises.

–––––

Later in the evening, after the barbecue is long over and most of the guests have returned to their homes or retired inside for the rest of the evening, you and Catalina are helping to clean up some of the mess that was left in the backyard. All things considered, it’s pretty clean except for a few pieces of rubbish here and there. Lina and Joaquin’s parents had insisted that everyone clean up after themselves and mostly, people had. 

Joaquin had gone home a few hours ago, saying that he still needed plenty of rest after his accident since he was still recovering from it, and none of the family had disagreed with him even though none of them wanted him to leave.

He’d hugged you before he left, like he’d hugged all of the family. You can still feel the small kiss he’d pressed to your cheek out of pure habit after kissing the cheeks of his abuelas and tías. You hadn’t missed the way his cheeks had flushed a little after he realised.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Catalina says as she puts an empty paper plate in the trash bag that she’s holding. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You look up from where you’ve been cleaning a spilled drink off the top of the table. “You wish I’d give you a penny for my thoughts, Catalina,” you chuckle, using her full name just to irritate her a little. 

Lina rolls her eyes at you and then takes a seat at one of the chairs. She motions at you to take the other one and reluctantly, you do. You know that Lina initiating a conversation like this is never going to end well. 

“I’m not going to beat around the bush on this,” she begins, making your stomach start to do backflips with nerves. You’re not sure why – Lina has never given you a reason to be nervous around her in the entire time you’ve known her. But for some reason, this time feels a little different. “I know you have a crush on my brother, querida. I know why you’ve been trying to stop me from finding out, but I know you and I know what I see.”

There’s no point trying to deny it. You know that even if you did try and deny it, Lina wouldn’t believe you for a second. That’s just the kind of person she is and always has been.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter sheepishly. “I won’t lie to you, Lina. I’ve liked him for a while now and I’ve been trying to get over him but I’ve failed a million times. And after his accident a few months back, I can’t seem to get him out of my head.”

Lina reaches across the table and places her hand over the top of yours. “You don’t need to be sorry. I kind of understand. I’ve been worried about him even more than usual since the accident. It’s made me want to spend every second with him that I can. It’s also the whole reason why I’m bringing this up with you now. I tried to start a conversation about it when Quin was there earlier, about him wanting to date again, but obviously he’s not ready for that conversation…”

“What conversation?”

“We almost lost Joaquin a few months ago, querida. Why waste more time? You don’t need it, but I’m giving you my blessing to pursue things with him if that’s what you want. You’re my best friend, have been ever since I can remember. If there’s anyone that I trust with my brother, it’s you,” Lina says. You can hear the honesty in her voice.

There’s still doubt in you, though. 

“Are you sure?” You question, a little hesitant. “I mean… he’s your baby brother.”

Lina smiles. “Yeah, he is. Which means his happiness is one of the most important things in the world to me. And if he likes you back, like I’m pretty sure he does – call it sisterly instinct – then being with you would make him very happy. He’s obviously not going to do anything about it, judging by the way he deflected me earlier, but you just might.” 

You look at her for a few moments before getting up from your chair and walking around to her side of the table, your arms extended. She laughs as she stands up, happily hugging you back. She squeezes you tight. 

“Besides, if you and Joaquin work out, it would make you my actual sister… and I secretly always wished that I could have a sister instead of a brother when I was younger…” Lina mutters in your ear.

You laugh at her as you pull away from the hug. “I basically already am your sister, Lina.”

“I know,” she shrugs, picking up the trash bag again and starting to pick up the last few pieces of rubbish. “But this way, it’d be official. And… y’know, if Joaquin starts dating someone then it might make our parents stop asking me when I’m getting married.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” you pick up the cloth you’d been using before. “This is all just a ploy to make it so that Joaquin and I are the ones being pressured to get married so your parents will get off your back… fair play, Torres. Fair play.”

She flashes you a grin. “Come on, let’s finish cleaning all this up so we can go home.”

–––––

There’s an added pressure the next time you see Joaquin. Even though it’s not the two of you alone and there are other people there, the fact that you know Catalina is silently cheering you on and that she thinks Joaquin likes you back makes it a little more real.

It’s not just a little one-sided crush anymore.

Joaquin throws his hands up in the air and cheers as his bowling ball knocks down all ten pins and scores a strike. “Did you see that!?” He exclaims, walking back towards the rest of you. 

“Well, yeah,” Lina replies, “We are all watching you.”

He gives her a look as he takes his seat beside you and one of your other friends, Jack, goes up for his turn. Joaquin pulls his phone out and takes a picture of his score on the TV screen above your heads.

“First strike of the night,” Joaquin grins, turning to look at you. 

His thigh is pressed against yours, owing to the small benches at the Bowling Alley. You’ve squashed four people onto each bench when they’re really only made to sit three and have split your group into two teams – it’s basically you and Joaquin vs Lina, with your other friends split evenly between the teams. 

“Oh, did you get a strike?” You feign surprise. “I must’ve been looking at my phone when you did it and I definitely didn’t hear you yelling about how excited you were afterwards.”

Joaquin laughs and nudges his shoulder against yours. “Shut up,” he says jokingly. “Have you been spending too much time around my sister? I might have to kidnap you and try and get rid of the mind-wipe she’s obviously done on you.”

“Who said spending time with your sister is a bad thing?” You reply, amused. “I never get to see you anymore since you’re always off saving the world so at least I still have one Torres around.”

It’s the truth. Joaquin is barely around anymore and you have to admit that you miss seeing him. You were surprised when he’d replied to the group text and said that he’d be joining you all at Bowling tonight. 

Joaquin’s face drops ever so slightly at your words but he tries his best to mask it. He didn’t realise that you had noticed his absence so much. “Well, someone’s gotta do it,” he jokes. “And if Lina is such great company, why aren’t you on her team, huh?” 

You look over at Lina, right as she stands up to go and take her turn. You try your best to summon some of her confidence. “Cause I missed you, that’s why,” you say, trying desperately to stop your voice from shaking. Telling Joaquin you miss him should not be this terrifying, yet it somehow is. 

He looks at you for a moment, lips barely parted. You watch as his tongue swipes out, running across his lips, before he closes his mouth and nods at your words. “I, uh, I missed you too.”

You glance up at the scoreboard. There are still a few other people who have to bowl before it’s your turn again and if you’re going to flirt with Joaquin tonight, now is your chance. “You did?” You hum, raising your eyebrows at him. “How much did you miss me?”

Joaquin is pretty sure his brain is short-circuiting. Are you trying to flirt with him? Is that what’s happening right now? He’s no stranger to people flirting with him, especially since becoming the Falcon, but you? The last time you flirted with him was when you were teenagers and you both hadn’t quite figured out what your feelings were yet. 

You can’t be flirting with him, though. You wouldn’t dare – especially since Catalina is your best friend. Joaquin is sure of that. There’s no way you’d even try something with him on the off chance you’d hurt Lina’s feelings. But there’s a look in your eye that Joaquin hasn’t seen there before and if he wasn’t internally panicking so much, he’s pretty sure he’d flirt right back.

“Uh,” he clears his throat. “Yeah, a bit.”

He stands then, taking you off guard, and excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you confused and a little hurt at him brushing you off. Were you that bad at flirting or was he just not interested? 

Lina finishes her turn and comes to take Joaquin’s empty seat beside you. She leans in close so that none of your other friends can hear what she’s saying. “What was that with Joaquin?”

“I tried flirting and he totally shut down,” you admit.

She rests her hand over yours and gives it a reassuring pat. “Remember what I said after the barbecue? About him not being ready for the conversation I wanted to have with him?”

You nod, the night coming back to you as clear as day even though it was a couple of weeks ago now. 

“Give him some time to warm up to the idea,” Lina finishes. 

She stands up and heads back over to her own seat just in time for Joaquin to come back and rejoin the group, sitting beside you again.

There is silence for a few moments as the last member in your team has their go. You’re trying to summon Lina’s confidence again when Alex finishes her turn and tells you that it’s your go again.

You stand, brushing your sweaty palms on the fabric of your jeans as you head to grab your bowling ball. You’re pretty sure it comes across as just trying to dry your hands before bowling, but you know that Joaquin has seen through that when you hear him cheer your name to try and hype you up for your go.

Jack and Alex join in with the cheering and you smile at them all over your shoulder as you walk up to take your turn. You don’t end up hitting a strike like Joaquin, but you do manage to take down a few of the pins and help in getting your team a better score.

As you walk back towards the group once your turn is over, Joaquin is walking towards you to take his own turn. He raises his hand for a high-five, which you give him. 

“Great score,” he grins, grabbing his ball from the machine. “I mean, it’s no strike but it wasn’t terrible.” 

You can’t help but smile at his teasing. Maybe Catalina was right, maybe you did just have to give him time to warm up to it all and you’d just come on too strong earlier. “Are you offering private lessons?” You ask, not intending to flirt but just trying to joke with him. You only realise once the words are out of your mouth that they sound much more like flirting than a joke.

Joaquin looks at you for a moment and then laughs, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it. Your stomach drops. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”

He walks away, heading up to take his turn, and you know that you’ve really put your foot in it this time. He’d basically just rejected you. No, I’m not. His words ring out in your mind. You’ve clearly misread the signals and so has Lina. If Joaquin actually really liked you, he surely wouldn’t have brushed you off so strongly. 

Instead of heading back to your own seat, you head over to Lina. She eyes you, a little concerned just based on the look on your face.

“I’m not feeling too good, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you tell her. “My turns are over anyway, it’s just the rest of the team to go. You can text me and tell me who won.” 

Lina stands up immediately, knowing something is wrong. “You sure? What’s going on? Do you want me to come home with you?” She lowers her voice a little. “What did my brother say?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “I swear. I just feel sick.”

She looks at you for a moment and you can tell that she doesn’t believe a word but thankfully, she agrees to let you go. She walks you to your car and doesn’t leave until you’re in it and out of the parking lot.

–––––

The second Joaquin sits in the passenger seat of Lina’s car, he regrets not driving himself to Ten Pin Bowling. The game is over and your friends have all gone home. Joaquin’s team won, mostly owing to him throwing two strikes in his last two games, but he never really felt up to celebrating the victory once you went home.

It’s silent until Lina pulls the car out onto the road. 

“So, do you think you’re too good for her now that you’re the Falcon or something?” Lina says, completely out of left field. “Cause it’s my job as your sister to humble you and believe me, I will.”

Joaquin’s jaw drops. “What the– Lina, I’m so lost here.”

She glances across at him before looking back at the road. If she looks at him too much, she knows she’ll get distracted arguing, and she is driving a car at the moment. That still has to be her main focus, even if she’s busy yelling at her brother.

“Why are you fucking things up with my best friend?” Lina is basically shooting daggers out of her eyes at him. “I’ve known that you’ve had the hots for her since you were like fifteen, Quin! So, why, after she shows an interest in you, are you brushing her off?!”

Joaquin is completely lost for words. His sister knows that he likes you? She’s aware that you were flirting with him tonight? He feels like he’s missing out on a lot of crucial information right now.

“Because she’s your best friend!” Joaquin replies, defensive. “Are you telling me that you want me to get together with her? Did you get hit in the head by a bowling ball tonight?”

Lina lets out a groan as she pulls up at a red light. “Ay dios mío, Joaquin.” 

He stares at her, confused by how annoyed she is. Does she not care that he likes you? But why wouldn’t she – as a teenager she’d told him on more than one occasion that you were her friend and that he wasn’t allowed to even consider stealing you from her. Why, as an adult, would she allow him to basically do that very thing? 

“Lina, would you please tell me what’s going on?”

She turns to look at him and he’s already a little afraid just based off of the look on her face. Catalina never looks at him like that. It’s the exact same look of wrath that Marcos had referenced at the barbecue a few weeks ago, the one he’d said no one wanted to deal with. And here he was, the very subject of it.

“She was flirting with you at the bowling alley tonight, Quin,” Lina sighs, clearly already exhausted from this conversation. “You’re the reason that she left early. You must’ve said or done something that hurt her feelings. She didn’t say anything to me, but she’s my best friend. I can tell when she’s lying to me, and she was.”

Lina looks back at the road as the light goes green and puts her foot down on the accelerator. She doesn’t say anything else after that, deciding to let her words sink into Joaquin’s mind for a bit.

He was the reason you left early? Admittedly, he had been a little confused as to why you were flirting with him tonight. He probably hadn’t dealt with that in the best way. But hearing you say things like ‘How much did you miss me?’ and ‘Are you offering private lessons?’ in the way that you did had left him all hot under the collar. How else was he supposed to deal with that? 

You’re his older sisters best friend. You’ve been in his life ever since he can really remember. He’s been basically in love with you since you were teenagers, but he’s never let himself even consider the possibility that you weren’t the forbidden fruit Marcos had called you. That all along, Lina actually never cared if he liked you. 

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” He looks over at his sister.

Lina nods. “You did, little brother. You really did.”

–––––

Three days have passed since the failed attempt at flirting at Ten Pin Bowling. You’ve seen Lina, going out for coffee with her twice. But Joaquin hasn’t so much as texted you, so you assume that he’s gone back to work with Captain America and try to get back into your daily routine. 

You misread the signs and that was okay. Or so you’re telling yourself anyway. Even though every time you think about the way that Joaquin had shut you down, your stomach ends up in knots.

It’s late at night and you’re just about to get up from the couch and finally go to bed after staring at the crappy TV programmes for way too long when you hear a knock on your door. 

Stifling a yawn, you head over to the door. You’re so exhausted enough from your long day at work that you don’t even think to look through the peephole on your door before you open it. If you had, you probably would have pretended not to be home.

Because Joaquin Torres stands on the other side of your door.

He’s dressed in dark jeans and a white shirt, his hands tucked into the pockets of the jeans. He has a sheepish look on his face, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about him turning up here at this time of night, but all you can think about is the fact that he looks good… too good, really.

“Hi,” Joaquin manages.

He sounds nervous, which is strange. Joaquin Torres doesn’t get nervous, not really. He’s the most overconfident person you’ve ever met and you love that about him. You’ve barely ever heard him stutter or stumble over words.

“Hi,” you mutter. “What are you doing here?”

Joaquin is pretty sure he blacked out on his way to your apartment. He remembers getting out of his car, but the walk into the building and the elevator ride up to your floor is all a blur. He’s not sure what he expected to see when you opened the door, but seeing you standing there in your pyjamas, hair out and face make-up free, is not it. You look even more gorgeous than you did at the barbecue. 

“I’m sorry. It’s late,” Joaquin blinks, the fact that you’re in your pyjamas finally hitting him. He’s hit with a memory, then – you’re sixteen years old, staying over at his house for a sleepover. He’s almost fifteen. He walks into the kitchen as you’re getting a glass of water early in the morning and all of sudden you’re whisper-yelling at him to get out, saying something about him not being able to see you when you’re in your pyjamas. He almost laughs at the memory and then composes himself. “Should I go?”

You shake your head. “No, you can come in.” You’re not sure what you’re doing. You’re letting Joaquin into your apartment at 11 o’clock at night? And you’re letting him see you in your pyjamas. Your sixteen year old self would freak. 

Joaquin hesitantly steps into your apartment and closes the door behind himself, then kicks off his shoes. He notices that all your curtains are drawn and the main lights are off, the room only lit up by a few lamps. The TV is still on but the volume is so low he can’t make out what’s being said. 

“You never answered my question,” you state, walking over and leaning against the arm of your couch. Joaquin tries not to look at the way your pyjama shorts rise a little as you sit. 

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t,” he nods. “I was thinking about that time in my old house where you yelled at me in the kitchen because I wasn’t allowed to see you in pyjamas. And here I am, seeing you in your pyjamas.”

Against your better judgment, a small smile makes its way onto your face. You and him had been thinking about the same thing, then. Funny, how even after all these years, things hadn’t changed in some ways. But in others, everything had. 

“That doesn’t explain your presence today, Joaquin,” you hum, though you’re still smiling a little at the memory. “You said it yourself. It’s late. But you wouldn’t be here without a reason.”

He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am here for a reason,” he confirms. “I wanted to say sorry about the way I acted at Ten Pin Bowling the other night. You were flirting with me and I got freaked out. Catalina was there and I was worried about what she’d say.”

“It’s okay, Joaquin. You don’t have to apologise. I should be the one saying sorry for flirting with you in the first place,” you shrug. “I misread the signs and I was wrong.”

Joaquin shakes his head and takes a step towards you. “No, don’t apologise either. I, uh… I got yelled at by Lina after we left the bowling alley. She was driving me home and she said some things that I didn’t realise I really needed to hear.” 

Lina had filled you in on the conversation that she’d had with Joaquin on their drive home when you’d had coffee with her two days ago, but she hadn’t told you anything that Joaquin had said. She’d only explained to you that she’d tried to knock some sense into him, but that with Joaquin, it could have all gone in one ear and out the other. 

Clearly, some of it hadn’t gone out the other ear.

“I’m listening.”

Joaquin takes another step towards you and then he begins. 

“I started crushing on you not long before that morning in the kitchen when we were teenagers. I didn’t really realise what the feelings were at the time. All I knew is that I loved whenever you came over to hang out with Catalina and I loved when you both let me hang out with you, too. Then, when you were seventeen you started dating Bobby Hernandez and I discovered what it felt like to be jealous. I was so mad when I found out that Bobby had cheated on you with another girl in your grade that I would have beat him up if Lina hadn’t beaten me to the punch, quite literally.”

Your heart starts beating a little faster in your chest at his words. He’d had a crush on you as a teenager and you had no idea? Even when the only reason you’d started dating Bobby Hernandez was because you were so desperately trying to pretend you didn’t like Joaquin?

“When you and my sister went off to college, that was the hardest part,” he continues. “It was the first time in my life that I was really alone. I had friends, but learning to live without seeing you and Catalina every day was tough. Then, that first summer you came home and you brought your boyfriend home to visit. I remember his name was Seth and every time I saw you with him, it was like I was being punched in the stomach. As much as I wish I didn’t, I remember the name of every guy you brought home. I was trying so hard to pretend like I didn’t care. Catalina apparently saw through me every time.

I remember when I came home after being deployed and I met Gabriel. The first thing that my mom said when I saw her after you’d introduced her was ‘That’s the man our girl is going to marry’ and all I could think about was the fact that it was so wrong. He wasn’t the man you should be marrying. I remember coming around to my sisters house a few years later and letting myself in only to see you in tears on her shoulder. I left before either of you could see that I was there. It’s a good thing I never knew much more about the man other than his name and his job otherwise I probably would have done to him what I wanted to do to Bobby Hernandez, and that probably wouldn’t have gone down well as an adult.”

You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe as you listen to Joaquin talk, but every word he says seems to knock the breath out of you. Every word is as unbelievable as the last. His crush hadn’t just been when you were a teenager. It had lasted through your other relationships, through Gabriel. The man you thought you would marry. And all along, Joaquin had been there, knowing that you wouldn’t because he’d been hoping it was him.

“Why– why did you never say anything?” You ask, even though you already know why.

Joaquin smiles, slightly sadly. “You know why, angel. The one person that ties us together is the one reason neither of us said anything. Hurting Catalina was the last thing either of us ever wanted to do. But…”

“But she’s known all along,” you breathe.

“She’s known all along,” he agrees.

You look at him for a moment, then, noticing the way his eyebrows are drawn together, at the small, sad smile on his face. The way his arms look as they’re crossed over his chest, the way his white shirt accentuates everything you’re trying not to notice. The man in front of you, the one you’ve been in love with all this time, feels the same way about you.

“I only dated the men that I did because I was trying to avoid my feelings for you,” you admit, your voice soft. It’s something you’ve never said out loud before, not even to yourself. Before now, it’s only been a thought in your head, admitted to yourself only.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod. “I really did think I was going to marry Gabriel, though. But I think it’s just because I convinced myself he was what I deserved. In the end, he hurt me just like Bobby Hernandez did. He would’ve deserved what he got if you found him.”

The whole time Joaquin has been talking, he’s slowly been walking closer towards you. Now, he’s so close that you could reach out and touch him. That feeling, the energy that runs between the two of you, you can feel it again now. It usually disappears quickly, but today it lingers as you both look in each others eyes. 

“You still have his address?” Joaquin jokes, lips twitching up into a smile.

You huff out a laugh and roll your eyes. “What, now that you’re the Falcon you think you can just swoop in and kick his ass for me? You don’t have vibranium wings yet, honey.”

He shrugs. “I do have wings, though. I’d be gone for a few days at least, though. You’d have to live without me while I was gone. Do you reckon you could manage that?” He teases.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I might miss you when you’re gone.”

Joaquin takes a step towards you. “Oh, yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “How much?”

“As much as any girl misses the man she loves.”

Upon hearing your words, Joaquin can’t hold himself back any longer. He closes the gap between you and cups your jaw in one of his hands before leaning down to press his lips to yours. Kissing you is instantly as easy as breathing, like he’s done it a million times before when in reality, this is one kiss over a decade in the making. He feels your hand on his waist, feels the warmth of it through his thin t-shirt, and the sensation urges him to kiss you deeper. His other hand rests on your back, holding you upright so you don’t tip backwards onto the couch as he kisses you.

The feeling of your lips on his is unlike any feeling he knows. Your lips are sweet, owing to the lip balm you’re wearing, and your skin is soft under his. He never wants this moment to end. He’d kiss you forever if it were possible.

But, eventually the two of you have to break apart to breathe and the moment comes to an end. You rest your foreheads against each others as you attempt to catch your breath. Your hand is fisted in his t-shirt and his thumb is swiping gently back and forth over your cheek. 

“So, do you offer private lessons?” You manage to say.

Joaquin laughs, the sound like music to your ears. “That depends,” he replies. “Am I a better kisser than your exes?” 

“I’m not even going to answer that question… just kiss me again.”

“Whatever you want, angel.” 

His lips meet yours again and the sound you make as they do sets Joaquin’s heart alight. His hand grips your back tighter as he feels your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer. Your legs in those tiny pyjama shorts. The pyjamas he wasn’t allowed to see you wearing as a teenager, the ones he’s kissing you senseless in now.

He’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to leave this apartment.

–––––

“Finally,” Lina exclaims, clapping her hands together as she sees you and Joaquin walking into the diner, your hands entwined. 

You and Joaquin share a look, amused, before sliding into the booth opposite Catalina. She looks at you both, eyebrows raised, pressing you both to explain everything to her. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen her since you and Joaquin had finally gotten together. That night had ended up being a particularly long one and Joaquin hadn’t left until the following morning. You’d had a lot of catching up to do, among other things, after discovering you’d been pining for each other for so many years without really realising it. 

“We talked things out,” you state. “I don’t think you’d wanna hear all the details, Lina.” 

Catalina screws her nose up. “Oh, please no. Gross. Don’t even plant images like that in my mind,” she shakes her head. 

Joaquin laughs and strokes his thumb over your hand from where he’s still holding it. “You walked right into that one, Lina.” 

She makes another look of disgust and takes a sip of her drink. “Anyway, moving swiftly on from that… when’s the wedding?”

It’s your turn to laugh, this time, but Lina stays deadly serious as she looks between you both. It’s only when you stop laughing that you realise that she wasn’t asking it as a joke.

“We’ve been officially dating for like four days.”

“Yeah, and you’ve been in love for what, fifteen years? Let’s go, chop chop,” she claps her hands in time with her words. “I want to officially be able to call you my sister.” 

Joaquin chuckles. “You’re part of the reason we’ve wasted those years not being together, Lina. Forgive us if we want to actually date for the first time before the whole marriage thing.”

You squeeze his hand under the table and he turns to look at you, a smile on his face. He leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, ignoring the sound that Lina makes at the public display of affection. 

He’d almost died a few months ago without knowing your true feelings. You’d both wasted so much time trying to get over the other without knowing. 

Joaquin is going to make sure he never wastes another second with you.

–––––

Joaquín Torres Tag List (Please ask if you'd like to be added!)

@sidkneeeee @dead-inside-but-happy @lay-lay-5 @marchingicenotes7 @phucboy @davinashifts333 @lomlbuckybarnes @laurenjbb @chansburgah @blackwidownat2814 @mischiefmanaged71 @madzlovez @marvelwitchergilmore @brittnicki @rheas-ripley @bcystar @victorsbathroomstall @giona45-5

[emeraldrush]

the way we won cuz

THIS IS OUR REED RICHARDS

THIS IS OUR NAMOR

AND THIS IS OUR FALCON

MARVEL KNOW WHAT THEY'RE DOING GIVING THE GIRLIES ALL WE WANT, LATINOS WITH PRETTY SMILES AND DREAMY EYES 😭❤️

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

The way I just sucked all the air out of the room!!!!

Bob and Fanboy together again in the MCU!!??

YAAAAAASSSSSS

[rowinablx]

My Top Gun Maverick heart when they panned from Lewis to Danny 🥹

[swan-of-sunrise]

Heaven-Sent

Summary: The morning after Steve and (Y/N)’s much-anticipated first time together, as shown through the eyes of a romantic and love-struck super-soldier.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for implied sexy times

A/N: Hi there! Since the last couple of Superhero Snapshots were on the angsty side, I figured that you guys deserved some fluff and a hint of spice, so here it is! Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Heaven-Sent November 2015 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Sam Wilson, Washington D.C. (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

Ignoring the super-soldier serum flowing through his veins and putting aside his role as the leader of the Avengers, Steve Rogers’ morning routine was remarkably ordinary. He was roused from his slumber by the shrill sound of his alarm clock at five-thirty and was out the door by five-forty-five, embarking on his early morning run; the others found it challenging to keep pace with him, so he often only had his battered MP3 player and its many energizing playlists for company. When he promptly returned to the Avengers Facility at seven o’clock, he took a shower and headed to their shared kitchen to whip up some breakfast just as his sleep-riddled teammates began to emerge from their suites. During missions, his morning run became his morning push-ups-and-sit-ups regiment and his breakfast usually consisted of instant coffee and granola bars, but the routine remained regardless.

That particular morning, however, Steve was slowly roused from his deep slumber by the warm rays of sunlight streaming in through the bedroom windows and the chirping of birds in the trees outside. With a content hum, he unfurled his arms from around his pillow and rolled over onto his back, bringing a hand up to rub at his sleep-filled eyes and stifle his exhausted yawn; he blinked his eyes open, momentarily surprised to find himself lounging in (Y/N)’s bed, but memories of the night before flooded his mind when he spotted some of their clothing strewn across the floor and a familiar black lace bra dangling off of the bedside lamp’s shade, prompting a love-struck grin to slowly spread across his face as he replayed the beginning of their perfect evening together…

“So…” (Y/N) slowly began, a bashful grin spreading across her face as she turned to face him and held her hands behind her back. Her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled under the dim glow of the overhead porch light, and Steve found himself stunned by her beauty for the umpteenth time that evening; he’d done everything he could not to ogle her all throughout dinner, but the off-the-shoulder black cocktail dress hugged her curves in the most scintillating way and its daring neckline nearly brought him to his knees in the middle of the restaurant.

Steve chuckled and mirrored his girlfriend’s stance with a playful smile. “So…?”

The historical-fiction novelist took a step forward, and the look of desire in her intense gaze forced him to swallow thickly and hold his breath in anticipation. “We’ve had a wonderful evening together and I really don’t want it to end just yet, so would you like to come inside for a cup of coffee?”

“Coffee, huh?” Steve moved closer and pretended to ponder her question. “Well, it all depends, sunshine.”

(Y/N) softly bit her crimson-hued bottom lip and tilted her head to the side in faux inquisitiveness. “On?”

“Whether you’re inviting me inside for a cup of coffee…” One of Steve’s hands moved to rest on her waist while the other cupped the warm skin of her cheek, the both of them leaning in towards one another. “Or if you’ve got something else in mind.”

“You’re a very, very intelligent man, sweetheart.” The historical-fiction novelist’s breath fanned over Steve’s lips but before they could connect with hers, she flashed him a mischievous smile and slipped out of his embrace to stand at the porch railing; he grinned at her unabashed teasing and followed after her, standing behind her and wrapping his hands around the railing to cage her in between his arms “As a matter of fact, there is something else I had in mind.”

Bending down, Steve nuzzled his nose against her neck and breathed in the sweet scent of her perfume, her breath hitching when his lips purposefully brushed against her pulse point. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” (Y/N) hummed as she turned to face him, leaning back against the railing and looking up at him through her long lashes while a seductive smile played on her lips. “And I’ve got a feeling that you’re thinking of the same thing that I am. Would you like to know how I know?” Steve, entranced by how beautiful she looked in the pale moonlight, wet his dry lips and mutely nodded. “Because you’re looking at me like I’m the most profound revelation of your life.”

“You are…” Steve slid his arms around his girlfriend’s waist and pulled her against his chest, all too aware of her elevated heartbeat and the lustful gleam in her eyes as he met her heavy gaze. “You’re my everything, baby. My Tiny Dancer, remember?”

Bashfully smiling at his use of his special nickname for her, (Y/N) slung her arms around his neck and dreamily sighed. “Just when I think I couldn’t possibly fall any deeper in love with you, you go and say the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard and I go weak at the knees.”

“And I’ll gladly catch you each and every time, sunshine; if I could, I’d hold you in my arms forever, just like this.” Steve’s gaze flicked down to focus on her purple garnet pendant, a wave of insecurity suddenly taking hold and causing his heart to race. “For full transparency, though, I…um, I haven’t really done this since before I went into the ice. I’ve been on dates, of course, and I’ve gotten a couple of bases in but…well, no home-run this century.”

“Sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to-”

“I do!” He hastily interrupted and blushed at his over-eagerness. “Believe me, I can’t think of anything I wanna do more than to take you inside and make love to you, but…” Taking a deep breath, Steve glanced up to meet the historical-fiction novelist’s understanding gaze. “I just want tonight to be perfect for you, and I’m afraid that it won’t be.”

(Y/N)’s eyes softened as she cupped his face between her hands and gently stroked his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. “But don’t you see, sweetheart? It’ll be perfect because I’ll be with you.” Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest as he stared at her in silent admiration. “Oh God, was that too cheesy? I’m-”

Steve’s lips descended onto (Y/N)’s and interrupted her rambling apology; he poured all of his love and lust for her into his kiss, holding her even tighter and reveling in the feeling of her body pressed against his. (Y/N) recovered from her surprise and eagerly reciprocated, deepening their kiss and drawing a breathy moan from him when her fingernails scraped along his scalp as her fingers carded through his hair. When they finally broke apart for some much-needed air, Steve trailed kisses along her cheek and jawline, whispering against her flushed skin, “I want this, (Y/N). I want you.”

“I want you too, Steve,” (Y/N) breathed, tilting her head to the side and drawing him closer as he pressed kisses onto the soft skin of her neck. “I think…oh, sweetheart…I-I think it’s time to take this inside before we traumatize the neighbors.”

With great reluctance, Steve pulled himself away and offered her his hand with a smile. “Lead the way, baby.”

The historical-fiction novelist latched onto his hand and practically dragged him over to the front door; when she dropped his hand to rummage through her purse for her keys, he stood behind her and rested his hands on her waist, biting his lip in amusement when she struggled to unlock the door and cursed under her breath. “You’d better not be laughing at me back there,” She warned without any real anger in her voice as she turned the key in the deadbolt. “Otherwise, this night’ll end before it’s even begun.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior…” The moment the front door swung open, Steve scooped (Y/N) up into his arms with ease, grinning mischievously as she burst into a flurry of surprised giggles. “Mostly.”

“Mmm, I’m counting on it.” Smirking, (Y/N) looped her arms around his neck and kissed him, and Steve lost himself in the blissful feeling of her lips on his as he carried her into the house and kicked the front door closed behind him…

With a satisfied smile on his face, Steve crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, happiness blooming in his chest as he let out a content sigh. It had been the single most enjoyable night of his life – their movements fervent yet oh so gentle as they drew both sinful sounds of pleasure and bursts of shy giggles from one another, their joined hands pressed against the soft sheets as they surrendered themselves over to their desires, their shared passion finally reaching its highest crescendo as a galaxy of stars exploded in Steve’s line of vision and (Y/N) buried her face in his neck to muffle her beautiful gasps – and he couldn’t think of any other way to describe it other than divine. He hadn’t been drunk since 1942 but that night, he was intoxicated by her; her warmth, her softness, her scent, her unconditional love…everything about her drove him beyond madness, clouded his mind in the best way imaginable until only thoughts of her remained. Being with (Y/N) was the closest he’d ever felt to anyone before or after emerging from the ice, the closest he’d ever felt to heaven itself, and the culmination of their most carnal passions only confirmed what he’d known to be true for months: (Y/N) (Y/L/N), his beautiful, intelligent and courageous sunshine, was the love of his life.

Steve glanced over at (Y/N)’s vacant side of the bed and was starting to wonder where she’d gone when he heard the faint sound of his girlfriend singing along to a cheerful ‘60’s Motown song in the kitchen; the smell of maple syrup and pancakes drove any lingering immodest thoughts from his mind as his stomach growled, and he huffed out a quiet laugh before getting up to slip his boxers on and quietly padding down the hallway. When he reached the kitchen, he leaned a shoulder against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest, a familiar warmth blooming in his chest as he studied his girlfriend from afar.

The historical-fiction novelist hadn’t noticed his presence, too engrossed in flipping pancakes on the griddle and singing along to the lively song that was playing from Sam’s stereo system; she was wrapped in a satin cherry blossom-patterned robe and a cheery smile illuminated her features as she sang, a smile that adorably widened when she flipped a pancake high into the air and successfully caught it on its descent with a plate while she swayed to the upbeat tempo. With the ongoing editing of her second soon-to-be released novel and the added stress of balancing their blossoming relationship with his unpredictable mission schedule, it was good to see her so relaxed and carefree for a change, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a surge of masculine pride for the part he played in her cheerful mood.

“Now this funny feeling has me amazed, don’t know what to do, my head’s in a haze, it’s like a heat wave! Yeah yeah, yeah-” (Y/N) twirled around in a circle and yelped in surprise when she finally noticed Steve, almost dropping the heaping plate of pancakes but quickly stopping herself as she flashed him a sheepish smile. “Um…surprise! It’s no secret that I’m not the best cook in the world, but I do know how to read the instructions on the back of the Krusteaz bag and I figured your super-soldier stomach was in need of sustenance, so I hope that you like pancakes.”

Steve hadn’t woken up with the expectation of getting emotional over a plate of slightly-overdone pancakes but there he was, standing in the messy kitchen with his eyes stinging and a lump forming in his throat as his kindhearted girlfriend beamed at him. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had made him breakfast – or any meal, for that matter – and while he’d always thrived as a caretaker to others and valued his independence, a part of him always wondered what it would feel like to be the one being taken care of for a change. I don’t think I’ll ever have to wonder again, he thought to himself as his smile slowly widened. He crossed the kitchen, his hands gently cupping her cheeks and angling her face upwards to give her a tender kiss, pulling away with great reluctance and finally finding his voice. “I love pancakes. Thank you, sunshine.”

(Y/N)’s eyes softened as she smiled back, and it was clear to see that she understood the implications behind his appreciation. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She handed him the plate and nodded towards the stools at the kitchen counter. “Now, dig in before they get cold while I finish making mine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chuckling, Steve took a seat and began pouring a liberal amount of maple syrup over his pancakes while (Y/N) dolloped more thick batter onto the hot griddle. “So, did you…um, did you have a good night?”

Steve mentally kicked himself for sounding so awkward but his girlfriend thankfully took his discomfort in stride. “I had a fantastic night, actually.” She tipped some coffee into her ‘Professional Bookworm’ mug and slid it across the counter towards him, and Steve caught the apprehension that quickly flashed across her face when her eyes timidly met his. “And you?”

“It was perfect, sunshine. You were perfect,” Steve assured her, his hand reaching across the counter to rest atop hers as he continued. “Trust me, I’m not exaggerating when I say that last night was the best night of my life.”

(Y/N) self-consciously ducked her head at his earnest words and affectionate tone and Steve’s heart swelled at the sight. He started on his breakfast while she finished preparing hers, unable to keep the content smile off his face and unwilling to take his eyes off the historical-fiction novelist as she worked; she seemed to be having a similar dilemma herself, nearly dropping the bottle of orange juice at one point and being forced to rescue a pancake from a charred fate not too long after, all because she’d been distracted by his smiles and heated gaze. When she took a seat beside him at the counter, her bare knee brushed against his and sent a pleasant jolt up his spine, the pleased smirk playing on her lips confirming that she knew exactly what sort of affect she had on him; It took me ninety-seven years, but I finally understand what it means to see heaven on earth, he thought as he smiled contentedly into his coffee mug.

“Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?”

Steve looked up from his pancakes to see an endearingly inquisitive expression gracing his girlfriend’s features. “Of course.”

“When did you finally…seal the deal?” (Y/N) inquired; there was no trace of jealousy in her tone or resentment in her eyes, only innocent curiosity. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I was just wondering whether it happened before or after Project Rebirth.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind answering, sunshine.” Shrugging his shoulders, Steve took another bite of food and downed it with another sip of coffee before answering. “It was after; I’m pretty sure my asthma alone would’ve killed me if I tried doin’ anything like what we did last night before the serum.” She giggled a little at that and he felt himself starting to blush as he continued. “Yeah, it happened while I was on that damn USO tour of America in the summer of ‘43. We’d just finished up a show in Buffalo when one of the chorus girls found me hiding out backstage and asked me if I wanted a drink; from there, one thing led to another and then…” He chuckled to himself. “It was okay, I guess, and Joanie was nice enough but after a few weeks of sneakin’ around with her, I decided that I’d rather just wait for the right partner and we decided to break it off. Besides Joanie, you’re the only other woman I’ve ever gone all the way with.” (Y/N) nodded in understanding and Steve was suddenly filled with a little curiosity himself. “Is it okay to ask about your-?”

“Of course it is, Steve!” The historical-fiction novelist quickly reassured him, resting her hand on his forearm and giving him an encouraging smile. “Two of the best things about the twenty-first century is the rejection of purity culture and the encouragement of open communication within relationships. My first time was during my freshman year of college, with my boyfriend Travis; just as we were getting into it, he smacked his head on the corner of my dresser and had to get four stitches at the E.R., so I suppose you could say that it was a night to remember.”

Steve winced. “Please tell me it got better from there.”

“With Travis? Nope, that asshat dumped me a week later with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, but there were a couple of other guys after him. I dated Kenneth throughout my first year of grad school – he was sweet, but our masters degrees took us in two different directions and we decided to call it quits – and I went on a couple of dates with Marc, a Marine between deployments I met when I went out for drinks with Sam at Barracks Row; we both knew it wasn’t anything serious and while he was a perfect gentleman, I could tell that he was struggling with some personal issues and wasn’t really in the right mindset for a relationship. A couple of months after Marc and I went our separate ways, my dumb-ass roommate decided to try and race Captain America around the National Mall and…” She took another bite of her pancakes and gave him a flirtatious wink. “Well, here we are.”

“Here we are,” Steve repeated with a bashful grin that widened as his super-soldier hearing picked up her elevated heartbeat and warming skin.

The two of them enjoyed the rest of their breakfast together, listening to Sam’s Motown CD and chatting about anything and everything that came to their minds. When they finished eating, Steve offered to clean the whole kitchen himself but after a lighthearted debate regarding the unspoken rules of hospitality, he reluctantly agreed to wash the dishes while (Y/N) dried and put them away. The historical-fiction novelist sang along to each song that played without missing a single lyric and Steve even found himself humming along while they worked, smiling to himself as he reveled in the charming domesticity of it all; for the briefest of moments, he allowed his eyes to drift closed and he worked to commit their perfect morning to memory, not wanting to forget a single moment of it. I’d give everything I have if it meant I could spend every morning of the rest of my life like this, he silently admitted to himself, opening his eyes to steal another glance at (Y/N) and finding himself admiring the way she practically glowed under the morning sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window.

After rinsing the last of the soap suds down the drain, Steve switched the faucet off and turned away from the sink. “There, all done. You know, we make a pretty good dishwashing duo-”

Steve’s words were abruptly cut off when (Y/N)’s hands cradled his face and she pulled him close before crashing her lips against his, causing him to grunt in surprise as his hands landed on her waist to stabilize her. The softness of her lips on his coupled with the taste of maple syrup caused Steve’s mind to go blank, and his eyes slid closed in bliss while he returned her tender kiss; his arms wrapped around her waist and when he tugged her closer, she gasped against his lips and he chuckled before kissing her with renewed passion. While one of his arms held her securely against him, his other hand slid up her satin-covered curves and caressed her cheek, her flushed skin nearly scorching the pad of his thumb as it skimmed the length of her cheekbone. With a pleased hum, the historical-fiction novelist buried a hand into his mussed hair, the feel of her nails scratching along his scalp forcing him to suppress his desperate moan; his efforts were immediately dashed when her other hand sneakily found a home at the back of his boxers and playfully squeezed.

“Christ, baby,” Steve groaned against her smiling lips as a spark of desire igniting within him. In an instant, he lifted her up with ease and set her down onto the kitchen island before trailing kisses along the exposed column of her throat, murmuring against her heated skin, “You’re kind of a tease, you know that?”

(Y/N) giggled as his lips latched onto the delicate patch of skin just below her jawline. “It’s not my fault that you’ve got one fine ass, sweetheart. I was simply admiring a masterpiece.”

Reluctantly drawing away from her neck, Steve’s head tilted to the side as he studied his breathless girlfriend, a loving smile spreading across his face that was accompanied by the smallest of head-shakes. “The only masterpiece I see is sittin’ right in front of me, sunshine.” (Y/N) beamed and her eyes shone with tender affection as she leaned forward and kissed the bridge of his nose; Steve’s hands firmly grasped her waist, fingers flexing along the soft satin of her robe when she initiated another passionate kiss and his need for her growing stronger with every caress of her lips.

Before either of them could deepen their kiss, the buzzing of Steve’s cell phone filled the kitchen and abruptly brought them back to reality. (Y/N), nearly panting as she rested her forehead against his and unwound her arms from around his neck, flashed him a dazed sort of smile and nodded. “Go ahead and get that, I’ll just sit here and catch my breath.”

Steve chuckled, giving her another kiss before crossing into the living room to retrieve his crumpled slacks he’d discarded on the floor the night before; fishing his cell phone out of his pocket, his brow furrowed when he saw Natasha’s name appear on the screen and he quickly answered the call. “Nat?”

“Wow, someone sounds a little crabby this morning. Sleepless night?”

Steve’s eyes flicked over to (Y/N), who’d hopped down from the counter and was going along scooping up the trail of clothes that led to her bedroom, and he smiled to himself before answering, “Yeah, something like that. What’s up?”

“We’ve got a lead on Adrien Pullman, one of Rumlow’s mercenary friends; our intel puts him and his crew in a safe house about five miles outside of San Juan.”

“How fresh is this intel?”

“Farm-fresh. It’s your call, Steve, but I don’t know when we’re gonna get another chance like this.”

Leaning against the back of the couch, Steve ran his free hand through his hair as he weighed the situation, ultimately coming to the conclusion that the spy was correct. “All right, we’ll go. Get Sam and Wanda up to speed on Pullman and his crew, and I’ll meet you guys at JBA in an hour.”

“Will-do. Oh, and tell (Y/N) I said hi!”

“I-wait, how’d you know I was with…?”

“I’m a trained spy, Steve; you’ve got that ‘I got laid last night and I’m wasting the morning away basking in the glory of my smoking-hot author girlfriend’ lilt in your voice.” Natasha’s blunt explanation caused Steve to blush and she snickered. “And I’ll bet you anything that you look like an heirloom tomato right now. See you in an hour, and don’t forget to wear protection!”

Steve’s blush darkened as the spy abruptly ended the call, and he tossed his cell phone onto the couch before chuckling at himself; ninety-seven years old and I’m blushing like a goddamn teenager, he silently observed, a smile reluctantly forming on his lips at the absurdity of his circumstances. “Steve?” He glanced up to see (Y/N) standing in front of him, their clothes slung over her arm and a concerned frown on her face. “Everything okay?”

“A last-minute mission to Puerto Rico just came up, and I’ve gotta be at Joint Base Andrews in an hour.” He offered her an apologetic look and reached out to take her free hand. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I was really looking forward to spending the day with you.”

With an understanding smile, the historical-fiction novelist leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss onto his forehead, waiting until his gaze met hers to speak. “Sweetheart, I’m dating Captain America; last-minute missions and cancelled plans are pretty much a given in your profession, and I’d be naïve not to understand that by now. All that matters to me is that after Cap gives ‘em hell out there, Steve Rogers comes home safe to me.”

If Steve hadn’t been leaning against the back of the couch, his girlfriend’s sweet sincerity and the kindhearted gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes would’ve instantly made him go weak at the knees; instead, he brought their joined hands up to his lips and pressed a reverent kiss onto her knuckles before breaking out into a dopey smile. “You’re heaven-sent, you know that?”

“Funny, that’s exactly what I was thinking about you,” (Y/N) softly replied, kissing the bridge of his nose and giggling when his face scrunched up at the ticklish sensation. “C’mon, super-soldier, I’ll drive you to Joint Base Andrews after we take a shower.”

Steve’s brow shot up in surprise. “We?”

“I, um…well, yes? Y-You know, you’re right, that was a little presumptuous of me, just forget I said anything-”

(Y/N)’s anxious rambling was cut off when Steve surged forward and captured her lips in a searing kiss; the pile of clothes were unceremoniously dropped onto the ground and her arms wrapped around his neck as she returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm. When a lack of air forced them apart, Steve smirked roguishly at (Y/N) as she worked on catching her breath. “I’ve never showered with a beautiful dame before, but I’ve always wanted to.”

The historical-fiction novelist hummed in playful interest. “Is that so? Well, we should really remedy that, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve agreed and with a teasing grin, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bathroom while their lips pressing together in a ravenous kiss.

Arriving at Joint Base Andrews over fifteen minutes late, Steve said his goodbyes to (Y/N) at the main gate and jogged across the tarmac to the Quinjet, where Natasha and Sam were impatiently waiting on the aircraft’s extended ramp and a bored Wanda was levitating his vibranium shield into the air with her powers. Sam ribbed him for his uncharacteristic tardiness, eying the fading love bite on his neck with a mixture of pride and apprehension, his sibling-like relationship with (Y/N) no doubt conflicting with his happiness for him, and Wanda handed over his shield before reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a ten dollar bill, which Natasha smugly accepted as they trooped up the ramp. Steve was unfazed by his teammates’ behavior, entirely consumed with thoughts of (Y/N) and the passion-filled morning they’d shared; it looks like we’ve created a much more pleasurable morning routine to stick to, he smiled to himself, changing into his uniform and whistling a light-hearted tune all the while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I've tried writing smut several times over the years, and I've pretty much accepted that this is as close as I'll ever get to giving you guys spice lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Stumblin’ In Book VI: “Endgame” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @fanficfandomlove @momc95 @savedbystyle @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @crowleysqueenofhell @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @toostrangerkid @prettysbliss

[bussyandbingus4life]

RIP Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, you would have loved anonymously bullying children on roblox