#joaquín torres x y/n

[awkwardgiraffe726]

The ways I absolutely loved this 🥰🫠🥰

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.

[fragileopp]

joaquin torres x reader requests open!

my only rules are no smut or graphic topics/extreme angst. thanks!

[cosmicwavelengths]

staring problem

pairing: avenger! bucky barnes x physical therapist! reader summary: you’ve been working with sam, joaquin, and bucky for the past few months, and you couldn’t help but notice how bucky just… stares. (based off of dialogue from the falcon and the winter soldier: “does he always just stare like that?” “you get used to it.” and “you’re doing the staring thing again.” + more)

a/n: hello and welcome to my first one shot! i saw captain america: brave new world last week and it was tremendous! i went back and watched the falcon and the winter soldier and it inspired me to write this fic. i've been pretty excited to share this, so i hope you enjoy! likes and reblogs are always appreciated forehead kiss

comments/tags: ca:bnw (spoilers!), fluff, bucky barnes is a 106 year old grumpy ass, bucky has a staring problem (quite severely), physical therapist/trainer f! reader, sam wilson, joaquin torres, bucky doesn’t hate joaquin here but he has a youthful energy that old man barnes finds mildly exhausting (sometimes), there’s technically a girthy age gap between bucky and reader (probably 60-80 years) but bucky can’t help that so we will collectively ignore it, strangers-to-lovers except bucky is just Confused, no y/n use

cw: mentions of alcohol (drinking, reader getting drunk), sebastian stan’s intense glare (swoon), kissing, language (bucky has a potty mouth)

wc: 3.9k | masterlist | ao3 ────୨ৎ────

In his 106 or so years, you were the first person who Bucky Barnes met that genuinely perplexed  him. And he couldn’t exactly put his finger on why.

During his over-extended life, he prided himself on his ability to read people and understand their intentions almost immediately. Maybe he’s a cynic, but he finds it to be much easier to organize the recurring figures of his life into different areas of his mind. Of course, there’s the rare individual that Bucky genuinely likes, such as Sam. And with others he tolerates, like Joaquín. But you? He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt. And if Bucky was being honest with himself, it scares him.

Considering he already knows almost everything about you, it’s almost frustrating how little Bucky truly knows you. Sure, Joaquín sat you all down as a group to discuss their new physical therapist. Similar to Joaquín in age, graduated from college not too long ago,, has significant experience with working with service men. You’ve been working with them for nearly six months already, and Bucky has yet to properly assess where you sit in his brain.

Whenever you entered the room -- any room, you had a certain energy. Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself, but you seem to have this natural ability to alter the space around you in some way. Your teeth and eyes seemed to sparkle, the way they open up so wide to greet him and the others at the beginning of each training session.

“Does he always just stare like that?” you inquire quietly, leaning over to Sam as you create a hamstring out of a roll of kinesiology tape. You subtly nudge your arm in the general direction where Bucky stood next to the weight rack.

Sam chuckles, “You get used to it.” You shrug in response, putting your head down and continuing to wrap the tape around his calf. “He might be a bionic staring machine, but he’s been through a lot. It’s just how he is, I wouldn’t take it personally,” he smiles down at you. Making a quick glance in his direction, Bucky continues to stare pointedly, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. Intimidating. You suppose any regular person would be skeeved out under such intense pressure, but it makes you rather demure. Even though you’re looking in his direction, he continues to look at you with his intense eyes. You’d think that most people would stop after being noticed, especially since you’ve caught him staring at you more than twice, but he continues with his piercing gaze anyways. 

Since Sam had decided to rebuild the Avengers, you had been brought in as their physical therapist. If you were honest, you weren’t exactly sure why superheroes of all people needed physical therapy, with what cutting edge technology and medicine they have at their disposal, but it pays well and you can’t complain about that in this economy.. Since starting, you’ve already become relatively close with Sam and Joaquín. But Bucky…

…Well, judging by the way he’s practically staring through you, you’d be safe in assuming that he hates you or something. You’ve not really had a chance to have a full fledged conversation with him. You helped him stretch, applied kinesio tape when asked. Within your first few days here, you surmised that he was just a private person. But, you’ve seen the quick smiles he flashed at Sam and the occasional short conversation with Joaquín. You normally don’t take these things too personally, but the people pleaser side of you tends to rear its ugly head. Aside from that, there was something about Bucky that made you want him to like you at least a little bit. You’ve tried your best to be friendly to him during your brief interactions, but he didn’t seem to have much of an interest in conversing with you past exchanging pleasantries. Even though it hurts a little, it’s just how some of these jobs go, after all, you can’t expect to be friends with all your clients. But his nearly constant staring at you is… menacing.

“I just don’t think he’s taken to me that well,” you breathe, finishing the wrap on his quad and cutting away the excess tape with scissors. “He doesn’t seem to like talking to me… or like me, at all.”

“It’s not you,” Sam reassures gently. “Give him some time to open up.”

--

“Y’know, you probably scare her with how much you stare at her like that.”

Bucky re-racked the weights with much more force than he wanted, causing the weights to make a heavy clunk sound against the metal, making her and Sam’s heads snap over in their direction. Shit.

Bucky looks at Joaquín and frowns. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dude, you have something of a staring problem,” says Joaquín. “Do you know that? It’s important to us that you know that. You have zero tact.”

Bucky grumbles under his breath in response, turning back to the weight rack to select a heavier dumbbell. “At least say something to her when we go out later? You can tell it bothers her,” Joaquín offers with a smile. Bucky steps back from the rack, preparing for his next set. “Stay out of my business, Torres.”

“This seems like a very unnatural problem for someone like you to have. Maybe we should call Wakanda, tell them that our cyborg puppet has stopped working and is in urgent need of recalibration.”

“Fuck off.”

--

The bar is loud. Far too loud for Bucky’s taste as he enters the establishment with Sam. Had it been up to him, he would have picked his usual quiet spot near his apartment. But, it is her six month anniversary of working with the guys, and Bucky wasn’t going to miss a chance to drink for free on Sam’s tab. Bucky stuffs his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket, scanning the many faces around the room. Keep an eye out for any potential threats…

“Well?” Sam asks, turning to Bucky and breaking him out of his concentration. Bucky’s jaw tightens, “Don’t you and Torres know better than to be in my business?” he says, crabbily. Sam shrugs his shoulders, hands out in defense. “Hey! I just want you to be happy, man. Just think about what Torres said, maybe?” He steps back from Bucky with a smile, clapping his hand against Bucky’s shoulder before approaching Joaquín at the bar. And there you are, sitting next to Joaquín, shining like the stars and moon… yet unsteady. Your warm expression grows upon seeing Sam, pulling him into a tight hug. What the hell, sure, Bucky ponders briefly before stalking up to the only open space in the bar and ordering a beer.

“Sam!” you answer excitedly, throwing your arms around him in a warm hug. He reciprocates in kind, saying a quick greeting during the embrace. “Wo-oah there!” Sam teases, “Has Joaquín here been filling you up with drinks here?” He gestures to the glassware that you and Joaquín collected, lightly crowding the bar surface.

“Hey, look, it’s a cheat night for all of us, and more importantly, her six month work anniversary!” Joaquín reminds Sam with a laugh. “Yes, tonight is all about me, guys,” you tease, smiling lazily at them. You generally don’t make it a habit to engage with clients outside of the gym, but Sam and Joaquín had truly welcomed you to the team with open arms these last few months. It was truly kind of Sam to pick up the tab tonight, and you’d feel rude refusing.

You settle back into your barstool as Sam and Joaquín begin a conversation. You scan the many faces around the U-shaped bar until you notice Bucky standing there, waiting on his drink. He’s of average height, about six feet tall or so, yet he stands out among the others around him. He wears his infamous scowl as he toys with his leather gloves. You took care in noticing how the light of the bar catches his upper cheek bone and the top of his jawline by his ear. His brooding blue eyes as they scan the area round him. So intimidating… yet..

He glances up at you quickly, incidentally locking eyes with you across the bar. Your eyes grow wide, feeling smaller than you’ve ever felt before. It’s almost eerie the way he studies you, as if he is trying to memorize every atom and particle of your facial structure. You almost freeze under his watch, sobering up a little as you sit up straighter. Properly. You cast out your usual friendly gestures, an invitation -- a small smile and a shy wave of your finger tips. Maybe it’s your alcohol-muddled brain playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn that the corner of his lips turned ever so slightly upwards.

It felt like time stopped when Bucky noticed you. The small wisps of your hair caught by the lowlights above the bar, reaching to the bow of the lips that once held a grin. Your wide eyes holding a sparkle of light. How he can see the way your skin flushes due to your alcohol consumption. Bucky finds it adorable the way you lightly smile at him, waving your hand gently. He sees the way you’re a bit wobbly, having to lean against the bar to keep things steady. He couldn’t help but be amused. His attention is torn away by the bartender setting down the beer bottle in front of him. Bucky fishes for cash in his pocket, setting it in the man’s hand and finally approaching the group.

He stuffs his beer-less hand deep into his jacket pocket as he stops next to Sam. He claps his hand on Bucky’s shoulder in greeting, Bucky acknowledges him with a slight nod of his head. “Bucky!” Sam exclaims, gesturing to the group. “Welcome. We were wondering when you’d show up!” Bucky looks at him with a tired expression. “Lost track of time at the gym,” he mumbles. “Likely story,” Joaquín laughs, before being cut short by Bucky nudging him sharply with his flesh elbow, using a bit more force than necessary.

--

Minutes pass. Then an hour. Two hours. Rounds of drinks later, you all lapse into steady conversation telling lively stories of the past, previous jobs, missions, interactions with other superheroes. You and Joaquín chortle together loudly at Sam’s seemingly endless stream of stories and jokes, while Bucky resigns himself to polite nods as he sips on his beer. The initial lively crowd of the bar had died down to the regular crowd, who’d delegated themselves to chatting amongst themselves, playing darts and shooting pool.

Several vodka cranberries in, your face and hands feel oddly numb, and the room spins more than usual. Shame on you for thinking you can match Joaquín drink for drink. Sam and Joaquín throw back the last of their drinks before heading off to the pool tables. Bucky stares off at them as they apply blue chalk to the tips of their cue sticks, ready to begin a match.

Turning towards Bucky, you prop yourself up against the bar, cheek in hand. You attempt to mock the way he stares at you, to make him feel how you’ve felt all these months.

“So,” you hiccup, interrupting yourself with a shy giggle. “What’s your deal?” You mockingly raise an eyebrow. “What’s your damage, Bucky? What is it about me you don’t like?” It slips out so easily. You should be embarrassed, but you’re far too gone.

Bucky sits up straight, giving you an unsure glance. That’s new. “I’m not sure what you--.”

“And you’re doing that staring thing again, that thing you do with me,” you comment, words slurring slightly as you gesturing unsteadily in Sam and Joaquín’s direction. “When you look at me like that, I can’t tell if ‘ya like or hate me!”

“Y’know, maybe I’m a people pleaser or sumthin’, but I-I really want you to like me, I think,” you sigh. Shrugging comically, you throw back the rest of your drink sitting on the bar. Leaning over, you clap your hand over his large gloved one. Bucky freezes, suddenly being hyper aware of what you’re doing and how small your hand feels compared to his. “And y’know what else? I don’t even mind when you stare at me like that. It’s almost as hot as it is intimidating.”

Bucky was warm -- not from the alcohol. He knows he can’t really get drunk anymore due to the serum, but he still feels the sweat from his palms against the smooth leather interior of his padded globes. And again, he states. Wide eyed at the flushness that cascaded down her cheeks to her collar bones. She fully lost herself in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, leaning against the bar again, not even knowing what you’re doing to him.

He wants to look everywhere all at once, eyes darting. Your bright, round lips stained with cranberry juice and the remnants of your lip gloss. The small beads of sweat by your temples and the crown of your hair. Your smooth thighs, sparkling in certain spots from the cold  of your glass. Bucky was truly rendered speechless. Not that he usually speaks much. Not that he was able to get much of a word in with you beforehand. But this time, he feels truly stumped. So, naturally, he did what any former brainwashed assassin turned semi-normal guy would do. With every ounce of charisma and bravado that a man like him could gather, he took one last look at her and drank the last bit of his beer. “Excuse me,” he said with a voice he was unfamiliar with, and turned around to walk out of the bar. And kept walking. All the way home.

--

Sleep is elusive to Bucky, who had spent the previous night drifting in and out of light sleep. He usually takes this as a sign to get an early start of the day, maybe go for a long run or walk outside.

He rises, making his way to the bathroom.. Squeezing out toothpaste, Bucky couldn’t help but reflect upon the event of the previous night. The sound of your gleeful, drunken laugh. How the warmth radiated off of your body. He can just barely recall the ghostly weight of your hand on the back of his. Even through his thick gloves, you may as well have burned him.

As Bucky splashes water on his face, he concludes that maybe a run wasn’t what he needed. The subway station was right outside of the bar on East Houston Street, yet he elected to walk two hours back home to his apartment in Brooklyn instead. He’d hoped that walking over the Manhattan Bridge in the middle of the night would turn out to be somewhat therapeutic, yet he was still unable to shake the memory of you at the bar. 

Letting out a deep breath, he takes a moment to sit on the couch and put his boots on. Standing, he shrugs on his leather jacket and reaches for the gloves in his pocket. Gloves you touched, he recalls, feeling uncharacteristically giddy about it. Heading out the door, he hopes that this early morning workout will help him clear his head.

--

It is far too early to wake up today, especially after having a night out like that. You awake with a raging headache, an unsettled stomach, and an aggressive thought of what the fuck did you do. As you lie there, gazing at your slowly spinning ceiling fan, you start to feel each and every one of the drinks. Groaning, you sit up, clutching your stomach in an attempt to settle yourself and you are quickly reminded of the conversation you had with Bucky. At that, you shoot up far quicker than you should, running to the toilet to rid yourself of the contents of your stomach and regrets from last night. Sigh.

You couldn’t believe that you had said that, feeling waves of embarrassment. You normally wouldn’t push yourself that far with the drinks, much less with the boundaries of a client. Grimacing, you reach up to the counter, feeling for a towel to wipe your face of sweat and residual make-up. Turning on the faucet, you cup water into your hands to drink and splash your face with cold water. Approaching your closet, you preemptively mourn one of the best jobs you’ve ever had. Every fiber of your being begs you to return to bed and wallow in self pity, but you think it’s best that you get to the gym early for a quick workout. Sweat out the hangover, you think bitterly. Your head lightly pounds when you make a sudden movement. Bringing your hand to your forehead, you realize this is going to be one long day.

Entering the compound, you hear the sound of a treadmill running and rhythmic steps in accompaniment. It would be good to see Sam or Joaquín, figuring that one of them decided to work off the alcohol consumed last night. But since you are, evidently, not God’s favorite, running on the treadmill is someone you’d rather avoid right now. And there’s Bucky Barnes, shirtless and sweating as he jogs on the machine. Your eyes follow his dog tags dangling from his neck, bouncing rhythmically against his skin. He heaves gently, hair flopping with each step. 

Even though you stopped in your tracks, he had already felt your presence and began slowing down. Bucky steps off the treadmill, collecting his water and patting his forehead with a small towel he brought. You figure it’s best to just talk and not dance around the topic. He didn’t seem like the type to beat around the bush. You breathe shakily before approaching him.

“Hi, Bucky,” you say, tone laced with nerves.. “Look, about last night—”

“Hey, it’s fine.” he interjects accidentally, cutting you off. He raises a gentle hand of reassurance. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

Your shoulders relax a bit, knowing that there was maybe a small chance that he wouldn’t tell Sam or Joaquín about your interaction. “Thank you, it’s just that I rarely go out with clients like that, nor do I drink that heavily.” You shift lightly on your feet, fumbling with your water bottle. “I didn’t mean to be unprofessional or cross any boundaries. I just hope that we could maybe move past this, pretend like it didn’t happen?” Smiling, you look up at the taller man, eyes filled with hope. He himself shifts on his feet, “Oh, I didn’t realize we were just clients to you.” You look down with embarrassment, searching for a response. “Uh, I didn’t mean any offense—”

“I’m just teasin’, sweetheart,” the nickname rolling smoothly off his tongue with a smile. A smile. “Did you really mean what you said, though? About me staring?” Drunk words are sober thoughts, he recalls to himself, having learned the phrase from Torres. You flush, suddenly taking interest in the top of your water bottle rather than the man in front of you. Him speaking with you, much less jokingly is more than foreign territory for you. “I-I mean,” you sputter out, self consciousness taking charge. “I wouldn’t mind being friends with you, of course, I try my best to be friendly with the people I work with.” He takes a step closer. “Now, you and I both know that that’s not the part we are talking about.” Your breath hitches. You take in how you feel crowded by him. He’s not exactly within your personal space. Yet.

“Really, I’m the one that should be apologizing.” Bucky says, loosening up. With a sigh, he starts: “I’m sorry to have kept you at arms length all this time. It’s rather difficult for ‘someone like me,’” he dramatically emphasizes with air quotes, “to ‘nurture friendships.’” So says my therapist, he thinks with an internal eye roll. “What’s wrong with me isn’t your fault. I’m just old and cynical.” He pats the outside of your arm in reassurance. You smile, feeling the spot grow warm under his touch. “For the record, I don’t exactly mind that you called me hot, either,” he casually notes. “It’s certainly better than the other reactions I tend to get.” You didn’t think it was possible to blush harder, feeling the warmth creep down your chest. Fuck, you were hoping he wouldn’t mention that part specifically, but you can roll with it. “Well, I do pride myself on being honest, I guess,” you chuckle nervously trying to play it off as cool.

“Y’know, since I had met you, I had been so confused on what to think of you. In all my life, I had never met anyone that was able to do that to me.” His voice darkens. “Care to clue me in as to why?” You feel stuck again, just how you felt last night when he was staring you down at the bar. You attempt to nervously mutter out a response, which instead leaves your mouth gaping open. He closes in on your space, you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. He glances down at your curved lips, light pink and glistening, then back into your doe eyes. “Please, sweetheart, it drives me crazy when you look at me like that,” he uses the nickname again, making your mind spin and your knees a bit weak. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

His eyes drop to your lips again as you stand there, stupefied. His eyes drift downwards to your lips and you almost feel like crumbling under the sudden pressure. He closes in again, sneaking his hands around your waist to pull you in closer. You’re both suspended in silence for a beat, and you think your heart would stop until he continues. “I don’t mean to make things weird, but maybe I like the way you fluster when I look at you.  I’ve been alive for a long, long time, and you’re the first person I’ve met that’s made me feel this way.”

Before you were aware of his movements, he closed the distance. Your eyes flutter shut as you take in the softness of Bucky’s lips, moving slowly and calculating over your own. His grip tightens on your waist, and you feel how the tips of his fingers press into your skin, making your mind go white. You press your body closer to him, breathing heavily as you press your lips against his. He pulls away when he feels your knees buckle gently, chuckling. “Careful, doll. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” You shake your head in an effort to come to and give him a response. “N-no, It’s fine, you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.” 

“Good,” he replies, voice darkening. He laughs again, causing you to giggle with him and lean in again.

“You do have a staring problem, though,” Sam chides through the speaker of Red Wing. Thecombat drone floats into your line of sight, hovering menacingly over Bucky’s shoulder. You jump back away from Bucky as if you were burned, feeling embarrassed. Bucky sighs exasperatedly, leaning against the treadmill and shaking his head. “By the way, thanks for finally taking our advice! I have all of that on camera, you know that, right?”

Bucky rolls his eyes with a huff. “Get out of my face, Sam, or I’ll break it.”

[websterss]

AT THE END OF THE DAY — JOAQUÍN TORRES

REQUESTS: Joaquín Torres: the reader is his girlfriend. He is always overprotective of you. One day, you're in great danger, and he has to save you with his falcon title rn. After saving you, he holds you the entire time. @tsunchani

WARNING(S): angst, fluff, slight gunshot wound

WORD COUNT: 3,642

PAIRING: Joaquín Torres x fem!Reader

A/N: I've been having a hard time finding my writer's voice again and Emy told me to just take the leap and post my fics. So I hope you guys enjoy the story.

MASTERLIST

"How'd you even manage to sit us front row?" Sam questioned as he watched Joaquín walk down the white house's halls with ease and familiarity.

"Her..." Joaquín's grin grew as you spotted him coming your way. You dismissed the agent you were discussing a report with and made your way over to him and Sam. Sam was stunned into silence as he watched the interaction between you two fall into place.

"Hermosa." Beautiful. Joaquín muttered softly with a chuckle as he pulled you into a quick kiss. Your faint giggle makes his heart flood with warmth.

Oh. Her.

Sam mouthed as he looked away from the public display of affection.

"Ya mero terminas?" Are you almost finished? Joaquín asks you.

"Yeah, I just need to give a quick debrief then I'm all yours. Oh, which reminds me..." You hold your finger up as you pickpocket two clearance badges. Two red lanyards now dangled before Joaquín as he grabs them from you. "You'll be needing these if you even want to think about sitting in for the president's presentation."

"Sweet!" Joaquín ha-ha's as you place it over his neck and then extended one out to Sam who was waiting to be finally introduced.

Your smile fades as your eyes widen with realization. "Oh my god-"

"Mi amor, you don't need to-" My love.

"Holy shit it's...I mean you're Captain America!" You look over at Joaquín for reassurance. The nod he gives you only further sends you into fangirl mode. "It's Captain America Joaquín..."

"Most people just call me Sam, sweetheart." Sam chuckled as he extended his hand out to shake yours.

"I'm a huge fan. Thank you...for your service I mean, and to this country and saving the world." You cringe at yourself. Joaquín bit back a smile as he looked between you two. “That– sounded a whole lot better in my head.”

"Sam this is my fiancé, Y/n. She has level 10 clearance and the President's not second but most requested personnel. And can kick my ass any given day." You furrow your brows at him, smacking him on the chest with the suck of your teeth.

"Hi..." You grow timid under Sam's gaze. "Y/n." You gesture to yourself.

"You have a fiancé man?" Sam looks over to Joaquín with an incredulous gaze.

Joaquín hums and lifts your hand to display the ring he proposed with. You grin and point with your finger at your ring.

"Look at you, man!" Sam's gaze flickers between your two grinning faces. If golden retriever and innocence were a person the two of you embodied it perfectly. "I can see it." Sam nodded to himself as he walked ahead of you two.

Your brows furrowed in question as you watched him walk off. "See what?"

"I don’t know. I’ll ask him about it later. I’ll see you there okay.” Cupped your face and sighed into the kiss he planted on you again. Your shoulders fell as you melted into the kiss. You raised your hand and gently cupped his cheek's right side. Though any passerby could distinguish the rate at which the kiss was leading, you took the initiative and pushed him away, placing your hand on his chest gently. He huffed with a huge grin as you swiped your thumb gently across his lower lip. Trying to rid him of your lipstick. More so the obvious smeared coat of your lipstick on him. You laughed as you continued to rub it off, even grossing him out by licking your thumb lightly.

“Hold on I missed a spot!”

“Mi amor, esta bien. Just leave it. Let them know who I belong to.” My love, it’s okay. He cheekily bit back a laugh.

“Who is rubbing off on you, trouble? Oh my god. Go get out of here before you're late,” You shake your head in disbelief. "or I'll beat you up."

“Bossy,” Joaquín mutters to himself. You feign a step forward your fist feigned, raised up like you’ll sock his shoulder. He laughs as your imitation tactic, pretending to flinch as he laughs at you, walking then to where Sam is hovering, lingering against the wall as he watches you two. The two idiots, happily in love. He couldn’t fight the grin that made its way onto his face.

“Te quiero!” I love you. Joaquín calls after you. You grin and look back over your shoulder.

“Muchisimo!” So much. You exclaim. The click of your heels fades with that of your turned back. You made a left at the end of the hall and then you were out of his sight. Joaquín couldn’t help the swell of his heart soaring. He grins down at his shoes and then looks up timidly at Sam. He rolls his eyes at the chagrin and cheeky smirk he receives.

“So when you said you weren’t wanting to look for a relationship-“

“-I was referring to no longer needing to look.” Joaquín clarified, pocketing his hands. “Cause I got her…”

“And here I was like a jackass trying to set you up. I’m sorry man.”

“It’s all good. We laughed about it the other day.” Joaquín gestured over his shoulder.

“So it’s that serious huh…you happy?” Sam slapped him across his left shoulder. Still asking even though he had a whole show of your love and affection towards one another.

Joaquín squinted at the question. His grin widened. “Was the ring not enough evidence?” He teases. “I can call her back here if you want. I’ll even dip her this time!”

“No, no need. Damn…I’m happy for you Joaquín.” Sam clasped his shoulder. “You know doing this sort of thing for so long. It gets lonely after a while. Hell, even I’ll admit it. When you’re too far into the job, into the crime-fighting and saving, you forget about the one thing you’re dying to go after…”

“What’s that?”

“Love, my man. And you hit the jackpot. You hold on to her as long as you can alright. I know with the jobs you both do there’s bound to be a few bumps in the road but hold on to that. Cause in the end that’s the only thing that’s gonna matter.”

“She’s my everything. Mi todo.”

“Yeah? Alright kid, hold onto your todo and don’t let go. Come one we gotta go greet Mr. P-R-E-S-I-D-E-N-T.” Sam spelled out with a smirk. A bit of a swagger in his step. Joaquín’s laugh broke out as he fell in step with Sam

-

Sam had clocked all the closest exists as soon as he and Joaquín had sat down with Isaiah. He also had noticed the subtle flickering gazes you spared Joaquín long ways from the other side of the room. Your head slightly tilted to the right to meet his gaze every once and a while. You radiated a sweet grin as you switched your surveillance back onto the President.

Everything had been going great until Isaiah stood up. You watched as he flung one of your agents against the curtains. He pulled out a gun and aimed it at the glass the President was inside.

You hurried forward raising your hand to your ear to call for backup when you clocked another man reach for his belt. "He's got a gun!" You yelled and slammed your weight into his side. A shot rang as soon as your bodies collided. Then panic in the room escalated as everyone began to run and try to leave through the exits. The glass above the President had shattered causing him to duck and shield his head.

Joaquín's fight mode kicked in the second the first shot rang out. He set his eyes out for you, keeping low as he started making his way through the panic of people.

“Y/n!” When he found you, you and the man who shot the gun were staring off, each of your heads turning to the flung weapon on the carpet. You lunged for it first. “Y/n!”

Joaquín had followed after you, but he flinched back when another shot rang out. You and the man both froze. Joaquín stood behind you not knowing whether you had been the one hit. But when the man knelt in front of you toppled over, he felt his shoulders fall in relief.

When the man fell, Joaquín rushed over to you. He pulled you back and wrapped his free arm around your waist as his other hand came up to your face to inspect you.

"You okay? You okay?" He muttered as he gently cupped your chin and turned you so you were facing him. It took you a second to register it was him. You nodded in response. You glanced over his shoulder watching in horror as Isaiah threw another agent.

"I-Isaiah?" You gasped, you looked around watching another one of your men escort the President out of there. It was pure chaos. His heart was still racing. He pressed his head to yours quickly before having you both stand up. He looked around the room, eyes falling to Sam. Their eyes met in a silent conversation.

"Get her out of here!" Sam ordered. "Both of you!"

"Let's go." Joaquín didn't hesitate to grab your hand, pulling you through the sea of people. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, his gaze set on an exit.

When he finally broke free of the throng of people, he stayed low and kept you close. You hadn't seen his counter-surveillance kick in since the Flag Smashers, ensuring your safety and his at all costs. However, your resistance against his grip on your hand made it difficult to keep moving forward. He looked down at your interlocked hands and could register your hesitance to continue with him. "I could see your gears turning, what?"

You looked back from where you came from, then looked back to his gaze. "I'm secret service Joaquín-"

His free hand came up to grasp your chin as he lifted your gaze to his. His jaw was locked as he stared you down, not wanting to hear what you were about to say. "No-"

"I got my orders the same as you do." You defended.

"I don't care about orders." Joaquín shook his head as his grip on your chin tightened. "Your job isn't more important than your safety."

"It's the President of the United States!"

"And it's you. There are a lot more people who can protect the President. He'll be fine. Trust me." The sound of distant gunshots made Joaquín's grip on you tighten.

You closed your eyes. Knowing he'd argue with you until you subjected him to the couch for the night. He never knew when to stop prioritizing you over the world. You loved and hated him for it.

"Just listen to me." His grip on your chin eased as his thumb brushed your cheek. "Por favor, mi amor." Please, my love. He knew he was using the right words that pulled on your heartstrings. "Just think about it but not right now 'cause we got to go-" He had looked up in time to see a geared personnel aim their gun right at the two of you. It unsettled him that he had grabbed your waist, tugging you closer as he dropped and rolled the both of you to the ground. Your scream hit his ears as the shot hit the spot where you were previously standing.

"Oh my god!" You screech as you both scramble up on your feet.

The two of you started booking it when shots were fired in your direction again. You were both running low toward the exit when one last shot hit your arm and stopped you in your tracks. You cried out as you grabbed at your shoulder as you fell, but it was enough for you to be vulnerable. Joaquín turned around when he heard your wince and the sound of you collapsing. His blood ran cold as you fell to your knees. "No! Hey no, you're okay. Come on!"

"S-So that's what that- f-feels like, good to know. What the fuck!" You moaned out in pain as Joaquín helped you to your feet again.

"That's good you're still cracking wise on me. Always a good sign." He tried to keep you calm to keep you focused. His heart rate had spiked and he felt his own blood boiling as he watched your wound bleed. His only thought was getting you as far away from danger as possible so he could tend to your arm as soon as you were safe.

"Shut the hell up, Joaquín." You gritted your teeth. He finally saw the front doors come into view once you rounded another corner.

He knew your tone too well to know not to comment back, but he chuckled to himself as you neared the exit. "Just trying to keep you in good spirits, sweetheart." His grip on your waist tightened protectively as he started pushing you forward faster. "Almost there, I got you-"

"Stop right there! Hands up!" You and Joaquín froze as the S.W.A.T team pointed the ends of their guns at you.

Your heart dropped as the team came into view, and the moment he felt your body stiffen, his jaw clenched. A silent curse passed his mind as his right hand went up slowly and he took a step forward to block you from the threat. "Don't shoot. Captain Joaquín Torres, Sam Wilson's second in command, sir. Y/n Y/l/n, secret service. She needs medical attention." He gestured to himself then at you.

"Joaquín, it's a shoulder wound…" You scoff quietly at him.

"They don't know that," He whispered back to you, his right hand remained raised in the air.

The captain's eyes narrowed as he observed your body language with a hint of suspicion. Then his gaze flickered down lower to your shoulder. There was a growing stain of blood staining the sleeve of your blazer. "We got a medic on site. You can be examined there." The captain informed. "Let them through!"

"Thank you," Joaquín said in passing as he curled your arm around his shoulder once more.

The two of you passed the armed men swiftly. Once you were past them, Joaquín picked up his pace a little more as he hurried you outside. He could see the mentioned medic site and caught the attention of a first responder by raising two fingers in the air swiftly. He walked over to a bed and set you down on it, slowly uncurling your good arm from around him.

"Injury?" The woman came forward, inserting blue gloves over her hands.

"Upper arm. A gunshot wound, she's been hit in the shoulder." Joaquín answered, stepping back as the EMT gently pulled your blazer back to reveal the extent of the gunshot wound. You winced as the fabric was pulled against your wound.

"The bullet will need to be removed. What's your pain like?"

“On a scale of one to ten: like I want to punch him." You groan as you grit your teeth, feeling her poke and prod around the wound.

"That's not rare." She smiled at you trying to ease the tension you were holding. "Most patients in your current situation say they want to strangle someone so I'd say you're gonna be alright."

You hum in response, but you still keep your eyes locked on somewhere else. "Is there any way you can check her head for a concussion-" You both look back to Joaquín. "She's not usually the joke-cracking type." Joaquín teased.

You roll your eyes as you look back to the medical. "Ignore him. He's overprotective of my well-being."

She laughs at the banter between the two of you as she moves to clean up the wound area and apply some numbing solution to the surrounding area. The moment the antiseptic wipe comes into contact with your skin, your shoulders tense from the sting. The medic notices your reaction. She then proceeded to pull out forceps, then turned to you. "I'm sorry, but this is probably going to hurt."

"Well, how much worse can it get?" You wince and turn to look at Joaquín. He walked up to the bed and pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand reaching for your right hand instantly.

He bit back a laugh as he smirked at you, but his concern was obvious. His hand twitched as if it had a subconscious desire to pull you in closer. The medic then began to prod the bullet wound, causing you to gasp and wince.

"I promise it'll be over soon…" She tried to comfort you. "This is the worst part."

"I thought getting shot was the worst part?"

She chuckled, "That's a given." While you focused your mind on something else to try and ease the pain, she continued to poke and prod around the wound. She found her mark and then pulled out the bullet swiftly. The pain lasted for a few more seconds because of her fast work, but after that, you began to feel a numbing tingling sensation. "There we go." She nodded.

"You did good, mi amor," Joaquín reassured you as he gripped your hand again. "That wasn't so bad.”

You took deep breaths as your heart rate calmed back down. You managed a smile as you looked up at him. The medic then started to disinfect the wound and bandage it up to stop it from bleeding.

“Yeah cause a gunshot wound is nothing compared to having your orbital broken.” You lean in his chest.

“Broken orbital.” The medic questions.

“Long story.” You brush it off.

“You’re good to go. Take these,” She hands you some painkillers. “Get some rest, and make sure to keep changing the dressings to reduce the chance of infection.”

“Will do, thanks for everything.” Your face shows your gracious smile.

“Take care you two.” She dips her chin in goodbye before rushing over to another patient.

“Well that was fun.” Joaquín quips as he walk over to stand in front of you. His grin widening as he brushes back some baby hairs.

“Our best date yet.” You chuckle.

"Mm, I think I prefer the one where we skip work tomorrow and lay in bed all day." He wrapped his arms around you gently, pulling you just a little closer to him. "Besides, I thought you loved a bit of adventure in our life," He teased as he ran his nose along the side of your cheek.

"Yes but you know not like this, Joaquín." You sighed into his touch.

He took a few deep breaths to calm his heart, not wanting to admit that seeing you injured had terrified him, and he was trying to play it cool. He just had to keep reminding himself you were alright.

"I can hear you spiraling." You breathe out a faint laugh

"Not spiraling. I'm totally fine, and-" He fumbled over his words as he met your gaze again. He pressed his forehead against yours, taking deep breaths to steady himself. "I'm spiraling cause you scared the hell out of me."

"I never mean to. You know that. It comes with our jobs, Joaquín. Our lives are constantly on the line."

"Yeah, I know that." He sighed as his hands moved to rest on your waist. "Doesn't make it any easier though…"

"I don't think it ever will."

"No, I suppose it won't…" His thumbs idly rubbed back and forth along your waist, and the silence that settled between you grew thick.

"You can't save us from everything…" You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek.

He hummed and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled back. Despite being comforted by your touch, he couldn't shake off the fear that had settled in his chest.

"Can I ask you something?"

He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he wanted to voice his worries. But ultimately, he decided it was better to get it off his chest.

He took a deep breath, "Do you ever consider… quitting? All of it?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to upset you.

"No, though somethings I imagine what a life of peace looks like. Though I wouldn't want to start that reality without you. Until we're both ready for that cliche of white picket fence life. You don't want to give that up right now though, I can see how much you love the thrill and adventure, so neither do I."

His expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew you knew him so well, which made him love you even more.

"You're right, I don't want to give it up right now." He admitted. "But the idea of a quiet life does sound nice, especially if it means spending more time with you without worrying that something could happen to you every second." He murmured as his hands shifted to rest on your hips. "But it is just a job at the end of the day."

"One you love." You teased.

"Oh, I do love it…" Joaquín smirked as he dipped his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of your neck. His gaze shifted to look at your bandaged shoulder, a faint frown appearing on his face just for a moment. He lifted his hand slowly and gently brushed his fingers along the edges of the bandage, careful not to cause any pain to your wound.

"But…" He whispered, his breath hot against your skin, "I love you more, mi amor." He added as he pressed a sweet kiss to your skin once more.

[ijenoyou]

Brave enough.

Joaquín Torres x StarkF!Reader

warnings: injuries !!! angst !!!

note: this is set on CA: new brave world with some slight changes and it’s the same timeline from Ojos lindos !!! so yeahhhh enjoy!!! remember english isn’t my first language so if there’s any mistakes plz ignore them lololol

You didn’t expect to be called on mission so soon. After all, it was only a few weeks ago Sam was asked to form a new team of Avengers. But hearing Sam’s desperate voice made your skin crawl with a funny feeling you couldn’t get rid off.

So, here you were, trying to open a portal right to where Sam is.

You could do a lot with the powers Thanos gave you but one thing is knowing everything you can do and another is having total control of this new gift. Or at least that’s what Thanos himself said after witnessing the way the power of the stones didn’t kill you.

“Come on!” You said with gritted teeth. Your hands kept on trying to open a portal with no success. “Fuck.” You sighed.

You heard steps from behind you making you turn on your feet.

“Why don’t you take your suit?”

“Mr.Bradley, I didn’t know you were here.” You said with a soft voice. “I-I don’t think I’m ready for that.” You explained.

You could feel a drop of sweat coming down your forehead and neck. You felt useless, it’s amazing to have powers unless you actually need them but don’t know how to make them work as you wish.

“I don’t think you’ll ever be ready for it.” Isaiah Bradley spoke after gazing at your form for a few seconds. “Fear makes you believe that, right? Are you afraid you’ll ruin your father’s legacy? Do you feel worthy of such position?”

With furrowed eyebrows you took a step closer to him. “Not trying to be rude here but you don’t know me.” You said while trying to calm yourself.

Sam and Joaquín needed you with them at the Celestial Island and it totally didn’t help your cause that Isaiah Bradley was now pressuring you to take the suit your father built. Too scared to fail him, even after death.

“Then prove it.” He said with a strong voice.

Your chest began rising up and down in a fast pace, anger filling up your veins, you could feel your own body grow hot. You gulped with great difficulty.

“Do you think it’s easy for me? I can’t use the suit! I’m not ready for it! Do you think it’s easy to use this fucking thing I have in my body? I want to help them but I can’t because my stupid body won’t respond to me and I don’t know how to make it work!” Screaming was now the only thing that was being heard at the Avengers base.

Isaiah’s eyes traveled behind you and smirked. “Thank me later.”

“What?”

He pushed your shoulders with force making you take a few steps back from him. Tripping with your own feet, you fell in a huge hole on the floor. Your eyes traveled up from where you fell noticing the hole was shining bright pink. You did that. Your anger made you open a portal.

“Y/N?” Joaquín’s voice brought you back to reality. “How did you get here?” He asked with worry filling his voice.

“Uhh.” You pointed to the ceiling and his eyes followed your hand. He then took that same hand and helped you up to stand. He didn’t let your hand go, he even held it tighter. “Sam called me.” Was the only thing you said while looking at his eyes.

You could tell his face had worry written all over it after you mentioned Sam. He nodded and finally let go of your hand.

“You’re here!” Sam said from behind you and took both your shoulders into his palms. “I need you to stop the american fleet from shooting against the japanese fleet, are you up for it? It might get ugly.”

“If that means I’m staying in ground then it’s fine by me.” After Sam heard those words coming past your lips he smiled. He gave your shoulders a squish for support.

But Joaquín couldn’t let go of the way your whole body tensed up after hearing Sam’s request. It was strange for him since he’s heard a handful of stories from when you used to fly to battle next to your father. He wonders if you’ve become afraid of flying.

“Joaquín, I need you up there with me, they’re already shooting so I need you to help me distract them. We need the missiles to explode while in the air okay? No contact with anyone from the japanese fleet.” Sam explained and began walking towards the exit of the safe bunker.

Joaquín followed him but before he could leave, your hand grabbed his, making him stop right after feeling your flesh on his own.

“Quin.” You called the nickname you gave him. “Please, be careful up there.” You didn’t know why but your heart was beating like crazy and your eyes began stinging with the burn of unshed tears.

His fingers interlocked with yours once again for a brief moment and smiled.

“Of course.” He gave the knuckles of your hand a peck. “Te prometo que regresaré sano y salvo.”

He let your hand go and started walking towards Sam who was waiting for him to suit up. He gave you one last look and winked making you let out a huff with a tiny smile, worry still filling your whole body up.

It’s always been crazy to you how one can use a suit that could make flying possible. You’ve seen Tony Stark suit up multiple times in your whole lifetime and still was something that made your brains turn into a fuss.

It’s incredible.

But it’s also scary.

While Sam and Joaquín were up there saving the other soldiers which had their mind messed up with, you began working your magic.

Pink sparks would take over the missiles and planes, stoping them from hitting their target but it only took one weak mistake from your end for all of it to finally take a turn of events in the worst way possible.

“S-Sam I can’t hold all of them at the same time.” You spoke into your intercom, your hands feeling like they were burning, the feeling of it weighing you down. “I need backup.”

“On it!” Joaquín spoke.

“Stay put! I’ll take care of it.” Sam shouted while reaching one of the planes that was hijacked, he then pulled the pilot out of it and began flying towards another plane. “Y/N, just help me get ahold of one!”

“We don’t have time Sam! She doesn’t have time!” Joaquín screamed trying to get a clear look at you from the sky.

It was all too fast. Your body gave up, you knew you couldn’t overuse your powers, your vision became blurry and you felt like taking a very long nap.

Both Sam and Joaquín saw the way your body fell to the floor, knees first. They noticed that the left over missiles kept on going for their target so that meant they had to do something, and fast.

Joaquín heard Sam yell at him. To leave those to him, but he didn’t listen. His pride and ego too big for his own good.

The last thing you saw was the way his body began falling, a missile had exploded with him on it. You wanted to scream for Sam to reach him but you couldn’t, too tired to even try to use your powers to stop him from reaching the water.

[ ]

“You gave me quite a scare out there.” Sam told you with a serious look making its way onto his face. “The both of you need to listen to me when I give out orders.” You didn’t like the way his voice sounded, he was angry. Angry at you, at Joaquín but he was also angry at himself.

A sigh left your chest, your eyes not wanting to meet Sam’s.

“He’s been asking for you.” That made you look at him.

The now familiar feeling of unshed tears began stretching all over your face. “Is he… Is he okay?” You asked.

It’s been two days since the accident, Sam said you woke up first, the only thing you needed was for your body to create new energy on its own since you used all of it during battle. But Joaquín, was another story.

Sam told you he has major burns all over the right side of his body, and when he told you about his heart stopping you began shutting down. It’s was your fault. Your body and powers weren’t as strong as you needed them to be. You were angry at your own weakness.

“Can you take me to him?”

Sam nodded and helped you out of the hospital bed.

Your palms began sweating. What were you going to say to him?

I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to help so now you’re stuck at a hospital with nothing to do and all because I’m not strong and brave enough?

After all, if you had used your own suit, you had the chance to reach Joaquín before the missile exploded. Sam opened the door to Joaquín’s hospital room after knocking. He took the handle of the wheelchair he put you in before leaving your own hospital room and pushed you inside.

“Look who’s finally here!” Sam said with a smile. He placed you next to Joaquín’s side and left the room to let you have a moment alone with him.

Joaquín slowly turned his head around. His eyes shining like beautiful black pearls and a cold chill went down your spine.

“Pensé que no vendrías.” Was all he said to you.

You bit your lip, trying not to let out the sob your chest had trapped the moment you saw the way his skin looked like.

“I’m so sorry Quin, it’s my fault you’re here, like this.” You whipped the tears that stained your cheeks with the sleeve of your hoodie.

He couldn’t move as much as he wanted to, but he made an effort to move his arm and reach your hand. He interlocked your fingers with his the way he did when you arrived at the safe base on the Celestial Island.

“Come here.” He mumbled.

You stood up slowly, taking your time climbing his bed. Your body still quite tired. You settled next to his side, trying not to bother him too much since it still stung to move the side of his body that got burnt.

“It’s not your fault, I didn’t listened to Sam’s orders.” Joaquín said and turned his head to look at you. “After all, I’m still alive, no tan sano pero si a salvo, just like I promised.” He said with a tiny smile. His fingers began playing with yours and he sighed.

“Your heart stopped.”

“I know.”

“Sam didn’t tell me at first when I woke up, he said it was too risky to mention it.” You explained to him with a low voice, feeling like it was hard to say it out loud.

“Why?”

“Because I care about you Quin.”

A tear fell from Joaquín’s eyes and your free hand reached out to cup his cheek. “And, because if you had died then another part of me would’ve died too.”

“Y/N Stark, eres la mujer más increíble que he conocido.”

———

Te prometo que regresaré sano y salvo. - I promise you I’ll be back safe and sound.

Pensé que no vendrías - I thought you wouldn’t come.

no tan sano pero si a salvo - not so healthy but safe.

eres la mujer más increíble que he conocido - You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.

[halliejaade]

Edelweiss

Joaquín Torres x Female Reader (Chapter One)

Disclaimer: Since there isn't much of a backstory for him, this is kind of setting up a background for both him AND you, plus, I gave him a little sister. I thought the dynamic would be fun to explore and could add to the story in a good way. :)

Synopsis: The seed of love once planted during your childhood with Joaquín never had the chance to bloom due to the weight of circumstance. Years later, you find yourself still totally and completely in love; but perhaps, after all this time, that love will finally be allowed to bloom.

Moving to Miami is as exciting as disorienting.

It had been incredibly hard; leaving all of your friends behind. But your father simply couldn't pass up the job offer that he had been given.

Being only twelve years old meant that you didn't pay any mind to the house your parents had bought. You did pay attention, however, to the fact that this neighborhood actually had other kids. Back home, there were only older folk, who wanted absolutely nothing to do with eager-to-face-the -world children.

It also helped that there was a beach only a few miles from this house.

You stepped onto the front lawn and observed your new home. The possibilities seemed endless; a sprawling front yard, perfect for the game of tag, a sidewalk just waiting to be drawn on with colorful chalk, and a huge tree sat in the backyard, beckoning you to climb it.

You were helping your father unpack boxes from the moving truck, relishing in the pride laced into his tone when you lifted a particular heavy box with ease. You set it on the curb, wobbling slightly as you noticed the neighbors that were chatting away with your mother.

A beautiful woman stood beside a gentle looking man, her hand hooked in the crook of his elbow, a smile splayed across her face. Between them, a young boy and even younger girl stood; the splitting image of both of their parents.

"Honey, introduce yourself," Your mother encourages softly.

You smile bashfully, fingers moving to grasp at your mother's long skirt. Bowing your head, you introduce yourself. When you peek back up, the boy is watching you carefully.

He catches your gaze, and smiles softly, dimpled cheeks becoming an instant comfort for you.

"I'm Joaquín," The boy says proudly, "And this is my little sister, Maria." He swings an arm over her shoulders.

Joaquín grins then, and it's so bright, that it makes you think that maybe he's the sun incarnate. In fact, you're almost positive that he is.

"Would you like to show Y/n around the neighborhood?" Their mother, Esperanza, asked quietly. Joaquín nodded enthusiastically.

You realized rather quickly that Joaquín didn't do anything half-heartedly. He didn't do anything without complete and utter certainty, and that apparently included becoming friends with you.

The little neighborhood you had moved into was safe. Kids could be seen wandering about the streets without supervision, because that's how secure everyone felt in their little community. You could turn a corner and be sure to see a familiar face.

You followed close behind Joaquín and Maria, rolling the sleeves of your shirt up your arms as rays of sunlight bit at your skin.

"We can stop by Max's and get a cold soda, if you'd like one," Joaquín says.

"I don't have any money."

"That's okay. Max always gives us our drinks for free!"

Maria, who had been quiet up until then, laughed loudly. "Yeah, but that's 'coz you annoy him. He doesn't want to deal with you."

In a few years, you'll look back on this moment and only have fond thoughts about it; the moment you met you're two greatest friends. Joaquín, who was always quick to say what was on his mind, always so ready to speak up about the things he believed in. And Maria, who was soft-spoken, always choosing to spill her thoughts on paper rather than from her mouth.

A cluster of businesses stood proudly in your neighborhood, all small, locally owned. In the middle, a group of men were attempting to set up what looked to be a fireworks display. Joaquín looked over his shoulder at you and then pointed toward the square.

"When it gets closer to Christmas, they'll put up a massive tree. It's pretty sweet! But one year, a hawk flew into it and knocked off one of the big bulbs. It hit Gloria in the head. Knocked her out, but it was kind of funny. She was fine, by the way. Well. Not really, 'coz she's kind of crazy, so I think it might have made her crazier-"

You were about to interrupt him and ask who Gloria was, but you didn't have to.

Maria jammed an elbow into her brother's ribcage, "Shut up."

A woman, who could have only been Gloria, based on the fear that emanated from the Torres siblings, was walking across the street. Right at you.

"Oh no, she looks like she's on a mission. Let's make a break for it," Joaquín whispered, beginning to turn in the opposite direction, toward the pharmacy.

"Hey, wait!" Gloria called. "I want to meet the newest addition!"

Joaquín grimaced. "Can you run fast?"

You shrugged. You weren't sure what fast was to him.

"Sorry, Gloria! Maria's real sick, you probably shouldn't get too close." And then he clapped Maria on the back. Maria bent at the waist, coughing loudly. Joaquín turned around and made a show of pointing at his little sister. "See! Nasty cough. Wouldn't want you catching that. We have to get her medicine, anyway."

The three of you took off running then, though Maria was still coughing wildly. "What is the matter with you?!"

Joaquín only giggled.

Even though you didn't really need to go into the pharmacy, you did anyway. The old metal sign hanging from the awning sighed loudly as the wind caught it, and you couldn't help but admire it for a moment. It was old, a testament to how long some of these businesses had stood in this little square for. The bell above the door chimed as the three of you stepped through, the elderly man behind the pharmaceutical desk greeting you all with a friendly smile.

You had only just moved to Miami, and already you felt like you belonged. That's just how it was there. It could get frustrating, not having much privacy, but you always knew you had people in your corner.

A month passes. Friendship festers.

Turns out, Maria did have a bit of a rebellious side to her. Though it only presented itself once she got comfortable with you.

The whole thing had been her idea.

Once July hit, the temperature spiked, and the days were often scorching. Playing outside was a no-go, with the weatherman warning of too high temperatures. Lazing around the house proved to be a hard task for a couple of twelve-year-olds, so you had to get creative.

It's how you find yourself climbing the tall fence running the perimeter of the Miami Shores Country Club swimming pool with Joaquín and Maria.

Joaquín climbed up with ease, lifting himself up and settling down on the top before reaching down to help you and Maria up.

You spent the day floating around the pool together, rummaging through your pockets once the sun got to be a little too hot for loose change so you could buy ice cream from the little concession stand. By the time you left, (that's how you all chose to tell the story; the real version was that you got caught and were kicked out), there was melted popsicle dripping down your fingers, and your hair smelled like chlorine, but you couldn't have been happier if you tried.

It was getting dark by the time you were finally heading home, so you wouldn't have come across it if it weren't for Joaquín getting distracted and crashing his bike. He had landed in a woody area, the thick grass breaking his fall. You and Maria quickly dismounted your bicycles and hurried after him. He had already gotten up and climbed through the brush. You weren't sure what you were expecting to find on the other side, but it certainly wasn't a massive meadow that you were expecting. It was as if the rows and rows of wildflowers were endless.

Without warning, you took off into the field, causing a swarm of fireflies to burst from the flowers. It looked like the stars were falling from the sky.

You caught one of the fireflies, and gently cupping it in the palms of your hands, you made a wish. You wished to always have these friends, to always have the security of the Torres siblings next door.

Joaquín wanted to keep catching bugs, and had been prepared to set some ground rules for a game (not that he ever really followed the rules back then), when you turned, and said the last thing he had ever expected.

"Come dance with me, guys!"

Heat burned Joaquín's cheeks. "Ah, I don't know...go ahead and dance, Maria. I think I'll just hang back here and look for bugs."

He wasn't sure why he felt so embarassed about it.

"Whatever, boys suck anyway," His sister announced as she brushed past.

The next few minutes were some of the worst that he'd ever endured in his short lifetime. He watched, partially in amusement, but mostly in horror, as Maria stepped all over your toes, as she apologized over and over again every time she did so. Finally, he got frustrated with having to watch you grimace and try to cover it up with a smile every time your toes got stepped on. He shoved off of the tree that he had been leaning on, and told Maria to watch and learn.

"Wait, where did you learn how to dance?" You asked, placing a hand on Joaquín's shoulder.

"Oh, our cousin got married last summer, so our Ma taught us."

There was a moment of silence, of pure joy as Joaquín twirled you slowly, and then...

You were so sure that you were going to have to break up a fight once the look of realization passed across Joaquín's usually passive face. Even more so once Maria laughed smugly at him.

Joaquín swore to never fall for one of his sister's deceptions ever again.

Another month passes, the gravitational pull grows stronger.

Daisy, your younger cousin, flew down with her mother to spend the remainder of the summer with you. It was a tradition you had back home, for your aunt and cousin to come and stay with you for one month out of the summer. You were excited that even though the location was different, that the tradition wasn't ending. You liked Joaquín and Maria, loved them even, but you were happy to have a familiar face around.

Joaquín had recently gotten into heroes, and nearly every day, at the crack of dawn, he'd drag you, Daisy and Maria to the meadow down the street to play a game of heroes with him. Though, on this particular day, only you were able to go.

Thankfully, you had proven to be just about up for anything, so when he asked you the night before if you still wanted to go, you quickly agreed. The next morning, he found you waiting on your front porch steps for him, and then you took off running for that meadow that had become a safe haven for your little trio.

The crack of a broken branch echoed through the muggy August air as you leapt from one tree to the next. Normally you'd be the sidekick in Joaquín's story, but now that Maria and Daisy were both at home, someone had to play the villain.

"That was sick, Y/n!" Joaquín broke character for just a moment, a shocked laugh escaping from his chest. "But please be careful."

You laughed wildly, feeling the freedom of air as you swung yourself from the branch and landed in front of Joaquín.

"This is fun. I want to be the villain every time!"

His mouth twisted down into a little frown, "But I like you being my sidekick."

"I do think we make a good team," You replied thoughtfully.

"Wait, really-"

He was cut off as a raindrop splattered along the ridge of his nose. You looked up, and took note of the angry gray clouds that were rolling in.

There weren't many things that frightened you.

Storms were one of the few things that did.

Not many people would've noticed that it wasn't just concern that danced in your eyes, but a deep-rooted fear as well. But Joaquín did. He always noticed things about you that no one else did.

"Hey, let's get home, yeah?" He commanded quietly, grabbing your hand. You stood in place, like a frightened fawn that hasn't quite learned how to leave its mother's side yet.

He realized then, that he would have to do anything he could to get you to move, that this was his chance to get a jumpstart on being a hero.

"Hey, rainboots," He said playfully, nudging your bright green boot with the toe of his sneaker. "Race you home? Winner gets the loser's dessert for the next week."

Now that caught your attention. Your mothers had grown close quickly and had implemented dinner's together three times a week. They collaborated on both dinner and dessert, but the dessert was always the best part of the meal.

Even though it was technically supposed to be a race, you didn't let go of Joaquín's hand when you took off into the rain.

He was quicker than you, but the both of you knew that he was going to say that you won the race.

You were only halfway home, when a crack of thunder tore through the sky. It wailed deafeningly loud, the ground shaking beneath your feet in response. Dense raindrops smacked at the tops of your heads as you ran down the street. You could barely hear over the roaring thunder, could barely see through the thick curtain of rain, but you weren't scared anymore. You couldn't feel anything but calm.

You just couldn't find it in yourself to be afraid when sunshine was running just a few steps ahead of you.

Summer descends, Autumn howling at its heels.

School was right around the corner, the dread finally settling in at the prospect of (forced) early mornings, homework, and shorter days. Daisy was due to go back home the next day, and then the following week, you'd start school with Joaquín and Maria.

You were spending the day with Joaquín, sipping sweet tea on the front porch as you played a game of cards. Daisy was down on the sidewalk, near the street. She was trying to catch a toad, and splashing around in the puddle's leftover from the rainstorm the previous night. The two of you were hidden from sight, so you didn't know what was about to happen until it was too late.

Joaquín always thought that it would be extremely difficult to envision you as an angry person. You were just so kind to every person you came across. You would sing to honeybees, even as everyone else was running away screaming. If Maria (or Daisy) dropped their ice cream cone on the sidewalk, the first person to offer theirs up would be you. Strangers would gawk at your sometimes unruly behavior, and would sometimes frown upon your boisterous laughter, but you'd just grin at them in response.

He came to a realization that day, though.

There was a boy who lived in your neighborhood. He liked to pick on people, but only if they were smaller than him and couldn't really fight back. He hadn't ever gotten brave enough to try anything with you guys, since he was always outnumbered. But he hadn't seen you or Joaquín up on the porch that day.

Neither of you realized what was happening until Daisy screamed. You watched in horror, as Beau shoved Daisy. She teetered back on her heels before losing her balance completely, her elbows skidding across the pavement as she landed. Her cries sent the both of you to your feet. Joaquín was the first to make it down to the sidewalk, his anger propelling him forward.

Joaquín was only inches from Beau, his hand reaching out to grab at him, when a blur flew past.

He slowed to a stop, watching in utter amazement as you gathered the back of Beau's shirt into your hands and yanked him back as hard as you could. Beau scowled as he turned, ready to strike. But then he saw you standing there, and laughter bubbled up in his chest, up and up, until it burst from his mouth, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He lunged at you, his fist raised as if he was about to hit you. Joaquín took a step forward as you took a step back.

Beau smirked. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He tugged a piece of your hair, before turning on his heel.

You tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned back around, you smiled innocently up at him, and rocked back on your heels.

Your smile dropped.

"You forgot something."

And then you swung your fist into his nose.

It was at that moment that Joaquín realized that, yes, you were kind, and friendly, and often went out of your way to help others, even if it meant you got slighted in the end.

You were also fiercely protective.

A year passes.

Middle school came, and while schools changed and so did the students, you and Joaquín remained the best of friends.

You fell in love with art, and ballet. Joaquín joined various sports, intent on becoming strong so that he could protect and provide for his loved ones.

The two of you were really finding yourselves. It was beautiful.

Two years pass, then three.

The shift happens when your world suddenly turns on its axis.

Everyone called it the Blip. You called it the worst, yet most defining five years of your life.

It was odd, how your parents had been there and then suddenly...they just weren't. Maria, and Joaquín's father were gone too. But both he and his mom were safe, still in that house next door.

His mom had practically begged you to stay with them, but you couldn't bring yourself to. You couldn't bear the thought that your parents might show up again, that they might only appear just long enough that you'd miss them if you were out of the house. So you stayed, even as the echoes of what once was haunted you.

Home went from love and laughter and so much fun with your parents to the kind of quiet that was capable of driving someone mad.

Joaquín, however, was determined to redefine what home meant to you.

Having a bedroom across from yours had its perks, one of them being that he could very easily cross the tree that connected your bedrooms whenever he pleased. He had been doing it before the blip, when the two of you decided one night that it would be fun to have your own way of communicating. One flicker of your bedroom light meant 'lets watch the stars together', two flickers meant 'i'm bored, let's talk', and three meant 'sos come over as quickly as you can'.

So it wasn't necessarily strange for him to come over at all hours of the night, but it was different when the blip happened. It became less fun, and felt more like something you both needed.

It isn't a surprise for you when you hear that familiar knocking on your bedroom window at half past midnight. You call out softly, telling him to come in. What you are surprised about, is the tinge of nervousness you feel when he climbs through the window, moonlight washing over him.

You pull your covers up and around your shoulders, as if that could protect you from the newfound feeling.

"Are you cold?"

No.

"Yes," You reply.

Joaquín nods in understanding, and motions for you to scoot over in your bed. It shouldn't be strange, this had been the routine for a long while. But when he settles in beside you, face set in a peaceful expression, it gives you butterflies so badly that you think you might vomit.

"You okay?" He asks softly.

You only nod, too afraid that if you open your mouth that you'll say something stupid.

Joaquín shifts closer.

You're unsure of how and when this happened. You're unsure of when he became so...handsome. Somehow, it's only now occurring to you how much space he takes up in your bed, how broad his shoulders are when he rolls onto his side to look at you.

"Rain boots," He whispers, "Tell me what's wrong?"

Unable to look him in the eye, you roll over and stare at the blindingly red numbers on your alarm clock. "Just miss my parents."

It's not a lie.

You expect him to do what he always does. You expect him to offer some advice, to tell a joke so that you smile, you expect him to poke at your sides until you have no choice but to erupt with laughter.

You don't expect him to shift closer to you, an arm reaching out to drape over your waist. You don't expect the warmth of his breath against your neck. His chest presses to your back, and you have to stop yourself from dying right then and there. Tentatively, he slides his hand into yours, before he squeezes three times.

"Close your eyes, boots. I'll be right here when you wake up, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

You do as he says, trying to get your breath back to its normal rhythm.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

"Night, Joaquín," You breathe.

The last thing you remember thinking, before sleep finally claims you, is that Joaquín's heart is beating in tandem with yours.

Two more years.

Joaquín always knew that you were destined for things far greater than you could have ever possibly imagined. It was apparent to him from the very beginning.

Growing up next to you had plenty of perks; one of them being that you had the ability to keep Maria entertained unlike anything else ever had. You had always managed to come up with fantastical scenarios, assigning the siblings their roles as you acted them out. From a young age, the world had been your stage.

You never seemed to mind that not everyone wanted to attend the show, you were always so unendingly free.

So it's absolutely no surprise to him that you seem so comfortable on a real stage.

You just...belong there.

The stage lights are bright, but not nearly as much as you are. You're radiant, a cosmic entity.

"This is beautiful," His mom announces quietly as she takes in the venue. After the blip, after everything was said and done, you decided not to waste any more time and accepted your offer into Julliard.

It had been difficult, moving away from home after everyone you loved came back. But if the blip had taught you anything, it was that life was short, and you wanted to make the most of it when you could. And now, here you were.

You'd always dreamt of performing in The Nutcracker. You weren't supposed to tell anyone when you found out, but you couldn't keep it from Joaquín that you'd gotten the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy. And to think, after all your hard work, you were performing with the New York City Ballet!

"She is so beautiful," Joaquín agrees.

"Not to diminish her, because she is very beautiful-but I said the venue was beautiful."

Joaquín looks to the side, at your mother's and at Maria. "That's what I said, too."

Maria snickers, and rolls her program up before smacking her brother with it. "That is definitely not what you just said, you dork."

He hates to admit it, but she's right. She was right all those years ago in that meadow when you were so excited to dance with them. She was right to trick him into dancing with you. Even when Maria was gone, he could almost feel her eyes on him any time he laid with you at night. He could almost feel the way she'd say, "Make a move you big dummy!"

But he was afraid.

He was afraid that he would put his heart on the line for nothing. He was afraid, because he was leaving in less than a week for the Air Force.

But mostly, he was afraid that he would get hurt, or worse, and that he would totally and completely break your heart.

So he kept quiet about it, though it was almost physically painful for him.

During curtain call, you take your final bows, and Joaquín can't help but leap from his seat. The entire audience follows suit, and he sees the way that your eyes light up. He sees the tears (that he knows are happy) that gather on your waterline. He sees, because out of everyone in the audience, you look for him.

And, damn it, if that doesn't make him want to drop to his knees and tell you right then and there how truly and completely he adores you.

But he's leaving, and you'll be here, dancing. He's leaving, and he'll be in dangerous situations that he'll be sure to not divulge with you. He's leaving, and you'll be here, safe and sound. So he keeps his mouth shut for a while longer.

Afterwards, you take them out to your favorite sushi spot. You're ecstatic, practically glowing. You had taken your hair down and taken the makeup off, but you couldn't have been more beautiful if you tried.

"This is insane," You gush, squeezing your mom's hand as you press the button on the crosswalk. "I can't believe this is my life right now!"

"Rain boots."

You glance at your greatest friend, the boy who isn't as much of a boy as he is a man now. "Joaquín."

I love you.

But he can't say it yet.

"I'm so proud of you."

You smile softly, and wrap your hands around one of his biceps before crossing the street as a group. He thinks that's all you're going to answer with, that this is where it ends. But right before you walk into the restaurant, you lean your head against his shoulder, and although you say it quietly, he hears you loud and clear.

"I'm proud of you, too."

Annnnd chapter one finished❤️ I'll get more into the plot of TFAWTS/CABNW, but I wanted to set up the back story and allow you guys to get a feel of the dynamic. (:

[sunflowerlando]

World Saving Deserves A Reward

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x female reader (no use of Y/N) Synopsis: Joaquín is back from another mission, and you want to thank him for always being out there trying to save the world. Word Count: 880 Warnings: smut (seriously this is 18+), little to no plot, just porn, blow job (cause I'm on my knees for him)

Just some Joaquín smut with like 0 plot. I wrote this all on one day entirely on my phone and briefly proofread (sorry if there are mistakes/if it sucks). All the SDCC photos/videos/promos got me back in my feral for Danny era. Legggooooooooo

You card your fingers through his hair as you straddle his lap on the couch. His hands are resting on your hips, and you're happy to have him back home. 

“I missed you so much, amor.” He says, and you lean down to press your lips to his. 

“I missed you, too, Joaquín. It’s not the same when you’re not around.”

“I wish I could be with you all the time, baby… you know I do.”

“I know, I know… you’ve gotta go save the world with Captain America” you say with a laugh, and he smiles up at you.

“Don’t I deserve a reward for that?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know, do you?” You tease before kissing him again. You kiss lazily, your tongues tracing each other as you re-familiarize yourselves with the intimacy you’ve been missing while he was away.

You feel him twitch against your leg, and you grind your hips gently down on him. 

“Hermosa, you’re going to be the death of me.” He says as you part from a kiss.

“Just showing you appreciation for your world saving skills.” You reply with a grin, grinding against him as his head falls back on the couch and he lets out a small groan.

"How do you always manage to get me hard in an absolute instant?" he asks, his brown eyes catching yours, darker now as the lust begins to take hold.

"A talent for sure." you say softly in his ear and then bite gently on the lobe before trailing kisses down his neck.

Your hips continue to move on him, and you feel his hardness pressing tantalizingly against you.  "I wanna suck you off." you whisper in his ear and his entire body shivers. "That okay?" "More than okay, amor." he says as you lean back, tracing your hands over his muscular chest to the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head and tossing it behind you on the living room floor.

He's looking up at you with pure adoration as you pull your top off as well. You know he likes looking at your breasts, and this moment is all about him. Your hands trail over his chest, tracing lightly over his nipples as he sucks in a quick breath.

You slide off his lap, grabbing a pillow for under your knees, and position yourself in front of him. "You're so perfect." he says, running a finger along your lips. You suck his finger into your mouth for a moment as you unzip his jeans. He helps you tug them down his thighs along with his boxers, so you have easy access to him.

His cock bobs up against his stomach, and you reach for him as he moves his hand up into your hair, holding loosely. You lick slowly across the head of him before wrapping your mouth around his girth and start to move your mouth up and down. You take as much of him as you can, enjoying having this control over him.

When he’s in the field and on missions he has to be dialed in constantly. You love being the one that gets him to let go. You feel so lucky to be the only one that gets to see this completely relaxed version of the man you’d do anything for.

“Ángel...” he mutters, gazing down at you with lust hazing his gaze. You start pumping a hand up and down his shaft along with sucking on his tip. His hand snarled in your hair tightens, and his other grabs for your free hand that is resting on this thigh. He slides that hand along his leg, directing you to fondle his balls.

"Yes, like that." he moans. His noises are one of your favorite parts about getting him off. He’s not always overly vocal, but when you go down on him, he turns into a mess.

You run your mouth and tongue down the underside of his cock and back up before enveloping him once again as he groans. You look up at him, meeting his eyes. His pupils are blown in pleasure his hips are rising off the couch now, meeting your fervor as he chases his orgasm. You let him thrust up into your mouth, trusting him to do what feels good for both of you.

"Mierda. Voy a correrme." he utters, and you know he's close. You love when he's so gone to the pleasure that he gets vulgar, no matter what language he's speaking.

"Let go for me, Joaquín." you say, pulling away momentarily before going back to your touching and sucking. 

His salty release bursts on your tongue as he groans and swears above you. You still until he tugs on your hair, letting you know he's all good, before pulling your head free and swallowing what is in your mouth. 

“Thank you, mi sol. Te amo.” He says as you move to sit back on the couch with him. He shifts his pants back up and reaches over to caress your cheek with that blissed out smile you live for plastered on his pretty face.

“I love you too, Joaquín.” You say, snuggling against his bare chest as you both relax into the cushions.

[3vln]

Prologue, Part 1

Words: 5k+

C.W.: missions, galas, Spain, banter, pre-FATWS, no usage of Y/N, tried to keep Reader as vague as possible (might change in the future), Reader is Widow-trained but mostly uses training for combat training and espionage, dives a little into Black Widow plot, somewhat bilingual (2nd half is set in Spain, tw: Spaniards), no smut yet but will have (so MINORS DNI), smidge of exhibitionism (for the mission, right?)

A/N: If fleshed out how I want it to be, this should be a 4-part story: the Prologue I & II (pre-FATWS) and the Epilogue I & II (during FATWS or CA:BNW). Please, please, please, if anyone wants to proofread future stories, please lmk.

Pairings: Lt. Joaquin Torres x WidowTrained!Reader

Joaquín met her when they were both just starting out in the Air Force—young, restless, and burning off the weight of training with cheap drinks and too-loud laughter in some forgettable dive bar. She was adaptable, mostly quiet, and knew when to get rowdy to keep the vibes going. She wasn’t in his cohort, just another face in the sea of military friendships that came and went. He’d be lying if he didn’t try to get to know her a little in the beginning, but something in her eyes or tone said she wasn’t interested - he’s been met with rejection multiple times to know that tone - and left it at that.

Over time, though, their paths kept crossing. Base assignments, joint training sessions, overlapping missions—until familiarity turned into something steadier. As they climbed the ranks in their respective fields, their work intersected often. But while Joaquín’s role was clear, hers always felt… murkier. She never volunteered details, and he never asked. Still, he noticed things—the way she disappeared without explanation, the way her conversations died the second anyone entered a room. Whatever she did, it wasn’t standard military work.

"Remind me what you’re working on these days," he said, securing the wraps around his knuckles as he eyed the punching bag. He had just arrived at the gym as she was gearing up to leave.

She hummed, filling the environment with a light-hearted air. He knew better, she thought, so she shrugged, “Stuff.”

He chuckled back, shaking his head. “Always so secretive, swear to God,” he muttered, and continued wrapping the other hand. He looked up at her for a moment, and found her smiling at him. She shrugged again in an “oh well’ manner, and went for the exit.

Joaquín felt his chest swell after she left, the flirty look she gave him engraved in his brain - and soon doubting himself if it was something he thought he’d imagined. He wished she’d stay a little longer to get to know her more. 

She wasn’t like that. Or at least, had never seen her be flirty. 

Deep down, she had to admit—he was cute. Not in an obvious, heart-stopping way, but in that boy-next-door kind of charm. Annoying at times, sure, but somehow still endearing.  

"Hey!”

They were in the hallway now, the door clicking shut behind them as Joaquín lingered, still gripping the handle. She arched a brow, waiting. Seconds stretched. His lips parted slightly, as if a thought had almost formed, then—nothing. Joaquín, who always had a sharp remark, a clever comeback—something—found himself choking on silence.  

Her brow furrowed. “No, yeah, good talk,” raising her thumb after a few long seconds.

“No wait,” he sighed, jogging toward her. “Listen, listen. This is… weird… to say,” he started, “and I acknowledge that, but I really don’t know anything about you, and…”

“Yeah….”

He sighed, “I’m not trying to come off wrong, but I’d really like to know you more, what you do – here, at least, you know? I’m just generally interested in your… line of work.” He swayed side to side in his words, trying to find the correct wording to things.

She considered his words. Trying to figure him out, understand what he can or can’t keep up with. He was smiling sheepishly, hoping she would open up a little by his nervous smile. But he was just irritating to look at, at this point, and turned away to walk towards her room, ignoring his protests.

Poor Joaquín Torres didn’t know what he was up against if she took up his request.

-

But of course, that wasn’t up to her, because if there’s something he’d do, is find a way.

“I guess I’ll be joining you and the others for this one, huh?” He walked alongside her, too distracted by his own achievement of joining the woman next to him on the mission she’s leading, to notice her fuming. “I mean, it’s nice, and seems pretty straightforward, and–” in an instant of a moment, she grabbed his arm and shoved him in the nearest supply closet and debated locking him in before stepping in herself and setting things straight. 

“Listen to me carefully,” she whispered inches from his face, a finger on his chest keeping him in place. This was the closest in proximity she’s ever been to him, her closeness putting him at unease. “You will hear my orders; you’ll follow my lead. Do I make myself clear?” 

He looked down at her, the proximity intoxicating him, stilling him. Her face was lethally calm, collected, and serious. He wondered how she could express so much in her voice, while remaining cool and in charge. Something about this was new territory for him, but a new high was building; an excitement that was new to him. He wasn’t sure if it was her pointed finger giving this effect, but he felt his chest clench.

“Do I make myself clear?” she repeated, emphasizing each word. She dug deeper into his chest through his uniform, snapping him out from her trance.

He nodded stupidly. “No, yea-yeah, yes ma’am.”

She held his gaze and groaned after a while, resting her hand on her waist while the other ran through her hair, a headache already taking place. “Jesus.” 

She took a moment to think ahead and plan the debriefs, the strategies, the roles her teams were going to have to play in this mission, and how Joaquín could be an active player in all of this…. from a distance.

“I think you should have a little faith in me,” Joaquín said, his voice light but laced with sincerity. She studied him for a moment, taking in the way his expression softened just slightly—earnest, hopeful. He was an eager guy. She’d give him that. “I’m just trying to learn, that’s all. I think it’ll be good to be a sort of jack-of-all-trades type, you know? Kick ass,” a karate chop, “be the ‘computer guy’,” fingers feigning typing; that earned him a scoff, “do spy stuff–”

“‘Computer guy’?”

“Yeah, the-the guy with the comms and stuff in the mission and the-” he snapped his fingers trying to find better words.

“Yeah I don’t know….”

“You do know,” he said, exasperated.

She blew raspberries, “You mean like a Communications Specialist?”

“Well, sure, and–”

She smirked. “Ok well, you have to get better at communicating,” she chuckled 

The corner of his mouth twitched at her teasing, but something about the way she laughed, effortless and a little self-satisfied, made something twist in his chest. He tried to ignore it. Instead, he exhaled sharply and cocked his head. “Oh, you think you’re funny?”

“Yeah, hilarious, actually,” she stated matter-of-factly. She bobbed her head side to side, “It’s a burden, really. A gift and a curse.”

Joaquín let a beat pass before he gave her a lazy, knowing smirk. “Yeah?” His voice was lower this time, something smug and amused settling into the word. Something about that Yeah sent an inexplicable shiver up her spine. “More like a curse, I’d say.”

She clutched her chest, feigning hurt. “Woah, that was almost as sharp as my wit.” 

“Yours is as sharp as a butter knife. Dull and mildly annoying.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh please Joaquín, that’s all you.”

He mirrored her stance, crossing his arms right back, eyes twinkling. “And yet, here you are. Must be captivated,” he grinned.

She rolled her eyes, and started towards the door, “Whatever, more like suffering through it with grace.”

“Ah!” He nodded his head with a gotcha look, “so you admit I have a certain je ne sais quoi.”

“Yeah… ‘je’ no sé why I’m still talking to you,” she waved him off and started walking out of the supply closet. "Just, follow my lead when we get to Spain." Joaquín rocked back on his heels, smiling curiously to himself.

“Wait! So, when do we go into the details?” he called after a distance.

She didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around—just threw up a lazy wave over her shoulder. 

- 

It was during this mission that Joaquín started to understand her a little more. Before, she’d always been a bit of a mystery—never offering much about herself, never filling in the gaps. She never liked talking about herself. Maybe it was habit, maybe it was survival, but letting people in had never been something she did. Information was a liability. It could be twisted, used against her, turned into a weakness. And yet, here she was—sharing pieces of her past over frozen yogurt on a quiet evening in Madrid.

“I’ve heard about the Red Room, thought it was just a conspiracy,” he mused, spooning another bite of frozen yogurt into his mouth.

“Nope, was the real deal,” she nodded.

They had just wrapped up an infiltration, posing as CIA informants to dismantle an underground operation. Joaquín had handled himself well, but tonight, for the first time, he seemed to really see her. Not just as a teammate, or someone filling in the gaps between departments, but as a whole person—one with a history, one with ghosts.

“So why the Air Force?” he asked after a beat. His voice was casual, but there was something beneath it—genuine curiosity. “I mean, with everything you know, why not just—” he gestured vaguely, “S.H.I.E.L.D. or something?”

She considered that, tapping her spoon against the rim of her cup. “Oh, I am,” she admitted with a chuckle. “That’s probably why you barely see me.”

Joaquín blinked, then leaned back in his chair, nodding as realization settled in.

“What Dreykov did, it was rough. All of the Red Room thing in its entirety. But I learned to fly planes, it was my specialty, or trained mostly on. I figured the Air Force was the most straightforward choice. I just needed approval to join since ‘immigration’ and whatnot,” she yawned. 

Joaquín hummed in understanding. He respected that. No probing, no need to drag out things she wasn’t willing to elaborate on.

He scraped the last of his frozen yogurt from the cup and grinned. “Alright, last question.”

She deadpanned. “It’s never the last question with you.”

“Promise, this time it is.” He held up two fingers in mock oath before leaning in slightly, eyes glinting. “Did you ever meet Natasha Romanoff? Like, the Avenger?”

She gave him a long, unimpressed look. 

Joaquín just grinned wider.

She chuckled. “Nah.” She tried recalling back to her time while training, and heard about the infamous redhead that escaped Dreykov’s reach. She was the reason the Widows became chemically rewired to follow his orders–not that she blames her or anything. She mostly remembers the scientist one, Melina; she’d show up on base from time to time. “Anyways, I’m tired, and we have an early plane to catch tomorrow.”

As expected, his “last question” was never really a last. Walking to the hotel, he kept asking about her past, what she remembers about her childhood, questions about the chemical that had the Widows under Dreykov’s spell. A lot of them she didn’t really care to answer, others were just too personal to share. It was getting really exhausting, until she told him to shut up.

“How’d you learn Spanish?” he finally asked. It was like she told him something from one ear and out the other. 

“Huh?”

“Don’t think I heard that little ‘no sé’ lingo in there from last week,” he shimmied. “Even here, hearing you speak Spanish, it’s perfect Spanish.” 

“Honestly Joaquín, you’re like a nonstop yapper, how do you have the energy after all this time?”

“Wha–I’m just curious!” he grinned.

“Yeah good night.” She stepped into her hotel room, adjacent to Joaquin’s own room. The rest of the team had their own rooms as well, sprawled out across the hotel, all possibly in their bed asleep, or working on their briefs or reports. Others probably out partying. Whatever the case, she was just glad to be heading home soon. She sighed. 

There was just one last thing to do before she could call it a night.

The night's mission wasn’t complicated—no intel to extract, no targets to eliminate. A simple side job. Something she could handle in a few hours, then return like nothing had happened.

She slipped into a black cocktail dress, the fabric sleek against her skin, something that would help her effortlessly blending in with the right crowd. She pinned her hair up with a clip-on fringe for a 90s updo, a few strands framing her face just right. The disguise wasn’t elaborate, but it didn’t need to be. The right outfit, the right posture, and people only saw what they wanted to see—a woman heading out for the night, nothing more.

She made her way down, weaving through the soft hum of conversation in the lobby, heels clicking against polished marble. She didn’t notice Joaquín sitting at the bar, sharing drinks and laughter with a few others from earlier.

But he noticed her.

At first, he barely registered her—a pretty stranger dressed to kill, a woman disappearing into the night. But then something tugged at his subconscious. The frame of her shoulders. The way she carried herself, poised yet alert. He frowned, lips parting slightly.

She had told him she was exhausted, ready to crash. But the moment she stepped under the golden glow of the chandeliers, something in the way she moved confirmed it. It’s her.

Joaquín straightened, setting down his glass. She looked different—glamorous, effortless, like a damn movie star. The strapless dress hugged her in a way that made it impossible not to stare. But beyond that, beyond how good she looked, something didn’t sit right.

He excused himself from the group without explanation, watching as she slipped through the lobby doors. His mouth opened to call her name, but he stopped himself. Instead, he followed, keeping his distance.

She didn’t hesitate at the curb, stepping into a black car with the ease of someone who had planned every second of her evening. As the car pulled away, the neon lights from the street flickered across her face, and for the briefest moment, her side profile was unmistakable.

Joaquín’s jaw clenched.

Something in his gut twisted. Whatever she was up to—it wasn’t just a night out.

And he wasn’t about to let it go.

“Follow that car,” he ordered the taxi driver, pointing out to the sleek car ahead of him. It’s not that he didn’t trust her, but he didn’t trust that she’d all of a sudden decided to get up, get pretty, and go clubbing. If she had, then this would be one big misunderstanding, and there was more to her he didn’t know. But what if this version of her is an evil clone and the real one was back at the hotel, injured? Guess he’d have to find out later.

He pulled up to a museum, an event taking place with lots of seemingly important people dressed up to the nines. He looked at his attire after stepping out of the car, and looked like he was ready to wander the wilderness or play pool, not waltz into high society. 

Amongst the crowd, he spotted her messy updo, by some stranger’s arm, laughing. Given the fake bangs, making flirty eyes at this balding guy, and laughing, he deduced she was possibly on a mission. He frowned, something had to give.

He made his way to the back entrance, where the staff was most likely entering from. His palms were sweaty, not sure if this little rendezvous was worth the risk. He never really thought things through, just ran with his first thought, until he realized he needed to think things through more. 

The museum kitchen was a controlled explosive environment. Expletives being yelled out in Spanish. Servers coming in and out of doors with equal enthusiasm with their own expletives. But everyone knew their place, and if he didn’t move past, people would catch on he wasn’t from there. But God the smell of the food getting prepped was incredible. 

He moved past the kitchen towards what he thought were the lockers, and couldn’t believe his luck when he got his hands on an extra all black attire someone had left, likely what the servers were wearing for the evening, and one of someone who was most likely late. It was a little tight, but nothing he didn’t feel uncomfortable with.

“¡Cava! ¡Vamos, vamos chicos! ¡Que no tenemos toda la noche!” someone had started to yell to get the champagne out. 

Joaquin walked out without anything in hand trying to find her-- that was a mistake.

“Oye, ¡tio! Pero que os haces? Aqui, valé. En andar.” The same man gave Joaquin his tray of Spanish champagne flutes to present to the guests and hurried him along. He muttered a quick “valé” to blend and started walking around, looking for his target. 

The museum was grand. Artwork displayed for everyone, the guests looked wealthy - more than he would make in his lifetime. He would stop to occasionally look at a piece, and continue to play his part in pretending to be the flute guy, eyes in search of her. 

He spent a good 10 minutes until he spotted the messy updo walk up a set of stairs with a different guy, smiling and laughing, making conversation and entering a secluded wing of the museum. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to think. This wasn’t his mission, but his gut told him to keep watching. He needed to move without drawing attention, so he grabbed a new tray of champagne flutes from the bar, slipping into the role of an event server. The disguise wasn’t perfect, but in a place like this, people only paid attention if you gave them a reason to.

Balancing the tray in one hand, he made his way toward the wing—only to catch sight of her again, walking in the opposite direction across an overhead walkway, headed for the upstairs terrace. What the hell is she up to? 

Joaquín hesitated for half a second before following. He had no plan beyond figure out what’s going on, but he’d deal with that part once he got there.

Stepping onto the terrace, he set the tray down, scanning the area. A breeze rustled through the cypress trees lining the edge, their dense branches concealing an exit. He was just about to check when—

A sharp yank at his collar dragged him backward.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Torres.”

Oh she’s pissed.

“Hey! Oh hey, I…” he started. He tapped his thighs, thinking of something to say. There was no use lying, she earlier mentioned she has a good bullshit detector, making him hyper-aware of every nervous tell he might have. He wasn’t a good liar, either way. 

“Torres,” she pressed. “Go back to the hotel.”

“Why are you here? I thought you were too tired to go out,” Joaquín shot back.

“Confidential,” she curtly spit. She didn’t like that he was really prying now. 

He frowned, “I don’t like this, we’re supposed to be a team–all of us. Why are you on a side mission? On your own?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to know the truth, or how much she could tell him before he pressed for more. Or how much he could contribute to the mission now that he was here.

Joaquín took a step back, studying her. His gaze flickered up to her hair, and his expression shifted.

“And what's up with your hair?” He narrowed his eyes, then smirked. “Actually, this Pamela Anderson vibe you got going on? Real sexy, not gonna lie.”

She scoffed, taken aback, “What's up with your wardrobe, why are you dressed as a server? Are you spying on me?”

“No,” he shook his head, his high pitch tone giving him away.

“Santa María, madre de Dios…” she groaned, pacing back and forth. “Listen, I really don’t have time for this, just go back to the hotel, or be my ride for the night but just, keep yourself busy, I’m working here.”

“And another thing! That.” Joaquín pointed at her. “That’s what I mean, how do you know Spanish? That isn’t just textbook level Spanish you learn through fucking–Duolingo!” he gestured wildly. 

Her patience snapped. “Joaquín, por favor, que te parto la madre. Hazte.”

He exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. He knew when to quit—mostly because he was sure she could and would kick his ass if he didn’t. He stepped aside, silently letting her pass. 

On the way towards the entrance, she stopped before going in, he watched as she hovered there, shoulders tense, debating something. Then, finally, she turned back to face him.. “I… I have to do this thing later. If you want to make yourself useful, guard the door when I ask you to. And if you see anything, don’t… question it.” 

He frowned at her curiously, and nodded.

She huffed, like she’d just given something away she hadn’t meant to, then slipped inside. 

-

As if they had rehearsed this numerous times, she found Joaquín to make an excellent improv partner. As he was serving more flutes, and later hors d'oeuvres, she was schmoozing with the elites. He never really understood what she was doing. To him, it looked like she was networking, talking with peers. Flirting with men because she was bored. And damn she’s a natural. He wondered why he never saw this side of her. Whatever the case, she looked good. 

But to her, this was part of the job. She didn’t mind the small talk, the ditzy persona. It was fun to play pretend, and flirt with the men and women available. This would end up leading to the main guy she was in search of. 

“<<Yeah, Ivan and I go way back,>>” one of the drunk men slurred, leaning in close. “<<the guy’s great, I bet he’d like to meet your pretty face.>>”

“Ah, ¿si?” she grinned.

The man nodded eagerly, his eyes a little too glazed to be fully present. “<<He has a weakness for pretty girls, I can’t blame him. The dude can spot dimes from a mile away. You’re his type for sure. Maybe we can have a good evening together? And bring a friend for a good time all four of us.>>”

She bit her lower lip, feigning interest. “<<Don’t tempt me with a good time.>>”

“¿Croquetas de pollo?” Joaquín interjected with a plate of Spanish tapas, his eyebrow quirked in that teasing way he knew would annoy her. 

The male just shook his hand, eyes not paying attention to Joaquín.

She followed his lead, shaking her hand to shoo him off. God, he was so annoying.

“¿Qué te parece si vemos ‘ese tipo Iván, hm?” she purred, letting her voice dip into something more seductive.

The male’s eyes lit, a type of hunger scanning her, thinking of the different ways he’d like to have her in. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but the smile never left her lips. This was the part she hated—this look they gave her—but it was all part of the dance. Keep it light, keep it playful, and lead them exactly where she needed them to go. “Vamos,” he said as he pulled her hand between his, caressing her. 

Just before he strung her along further, she stopped in front of Joaquín to grab a piece of croqueta and held it up to thank him for it, silently telling him to standby. It was communication through the eyes, one where she was actually thanking him for sticking by, and not for the stupid piece of chicken meat he was offering her. He dipped his chin in understanding, barely mouthing a go.

Whatever this thing she was doing, it was one that he knew she could handle by herself, but he figured it was nice to have a partner in this. He watched her go up the stairs into the wing once more, and didn’t see her again. He wondered what she’d be doing, and felt sick if these were the types of missions she’d gone through during her years as a Widow.

He forced himself back into his fake role, serving tapas, keeping his hands busy, trying to anchor himself in the mundane. But his mind wouldn’t stay put. It kept drifting—to the slit of her dress, the way her long legs moved effortlessly through the crowd. The velvety fabric that clung to her, the shimmer at her collarbone catching the soft light.

To him, ella era la luna personificada.

Her lips—shining, plush. How they might feel against his own. How they might taste.

Joaquín exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Focus. He had croquetas de pollo to serve, champagne to pour. Not this.

This was Red Room training, he reasoned. The art of seduction. The carefully crafted illusion of a siren—luring men in with a glance, a smile, a whisper in the dark. And when the time called, strike at a moment’s notice. 

He let out a breath. If she was anything like the person she was during the morning’s mission, he knew she’d be okay. He’d seen how she maneuvered, how she struck with precision. That woman didn’t need saving. She didn’t even need backup. The more he thought about her skill, the sharper his confidence in her became.

As he walked around carrying a round of, now champagne, for the guests, he was met with a hand on his back, making its way down his arm. He felt a chill go down his spine, and saw her, a little frazzled, but composed.

“Me parece que querrán más tapas y cava,” she murmured, smooth, practiced.

Joaquín smirked, inclining his head in mock obedience. “En seguida.”

And then, just like that—a wink. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, and made her way to the women’s bathroom.

Joaquín wasn’t sure what was really going on now, but he was just glad to be a part of it. With a tray of Spanish champagne at hand, he made his way up the stairs with her, into the right wing of the museum. This side of the museum was dimly lit, and he started feeling unsure of himself. But she was leading him to a room, confidently walking with grace, as if she owned the place. He liked this about her. She was confident about everything. Never faltering to new things. She led with caution certain times, but confident nonetheless.

“You look real good,” his words escaped him. He mentally kicked himself.

She looked back, studying him for a moment if the champagne had gotten to him, but no. Figured this was the real Joaquín speaking. A little brash, or with little thought process, but still him. “Thanks,” she chirped over her shoulder. 

“Now,” she began, stopping behind some big doors, “remember what I told you–if you see something, stay quiet.”

He nodded, unsure, “yeah, sure.” 

On the other side of the doors, two bodies were over a couch, one on top of the other, half-naked. Joaquín’s eyes grew, and looked at her incredulously. She was making her way towards a desk, leaning forward to focus on what was on the display screen. He figured he'd ask about that later. “Get on watchdog duty; let me know if you hear steps nearby.”

He fake saluted and made his way out, leaving the flutes near the desk. “So what exactly are you doing?” he asked.

“Joaquín, hush,” she sang absentmindedly, and he closed the door.

The small USB drive she carried in her garter was taken out and inserted into the hard drive.

She thought she wasn’t going to need to extract information or execute anyone for the night. At least one of them is true. She was supposed to be pure arm candy and eavesdrop on a few conversations. But as soon as she got a hold of this Ivan guy, she knew she couldn’t miss out on this opportunity.

This wasn’t an overall SHIELD operation, but it was one she knew the information would be useful to pass along. She’d leave everything untouched after she was done, no proof that she was ever near the computer. As for the men on the couch? They were simply…asleep. Halfway through their ravenous evening, they were met with a strong desire for sleep, and she left them at that. In the morning, or if someone found them, they’d just think they had 1 too many drinks and that things led from one thing to another between them. She’d done her research on them to know it was a possible outcome.  

She looked at the monitor, only 85% of the extraction was downloaded. It was a lot slower than usual, but there were a lot of orgs, addresses, and key clients to take down. 

“Hey,” Joaquín stepped in, nodding towards the hallway, “footsteps.”

Fuck, she saw 87% on the screen. 

She glanced at Joaquín, already knowing what she had to do. If this went sideways, he could not be caught up in it.

“Take the tray of flutes,” she whispered, nodding toward the passed-out men on the couch. “Put it on the side table near them. Then leave through those doors.” She flicked her eyes to the set opposite the main hallway. “They lead to a corridor of lecture rooms. Find the exit.”

Joaquín hesitated, eyes flicking to the doors. He hadn’t expected them to lead anywhere but another room.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

He didn’t trust that she’d get this done in time, the footsteps were fairly close, but he needed to take the plunge. She was capable and he trusted that. He exhaled sharply and slipped through the doors.

Darkness.

Dimly lit artwork lined the corridor. For a split second, he thought he’d made a mistake and doubled back into the main hallway. He needed to find the lecture rooms. The exit. Fast.

Joaquín picked a direction and sprinted left. At the end of the hall, he skidded to a stop, swearing under his breath. No lecture rooms. No exit sign, just more hallways with artwork.

"Fuck… fucking—" He clenched his jaw. Why couldn’t she give clear instructions?

He heard the doors open of the room he’d just left, and quickly pressed himself against the wall, breath held. Heels clicked against the floor—sharp, steady. He risked a glance.

She moved fast, slipping through the opposite direction, already working to kick off her heels. Smart. In a matter of seconds, she was gone—disappearing around the left corner at the far end of the hallway.

The doors opened again, and this time, security. Joaquín stilled. One of them stepped out, scanning for movement. A pause. Then, they retreated back inside.

He figured it was now or never, and sprinted towards the opposite side of the hallway, hoping he wouldn’t get caught, and quickly turned to the left. He stopped to find a big lecture hall in front of him, and cursed her. Now where was that stupid exit?

The doors opened behind him again, “<<Yeah, I’m gonna check it out.>>” the security spoke, alerting their teammates.

Joaquín’s pulse spiked. He scanned his surroundings—options, options— there.

Joaquín spotted an empty conference room near the lecture hall and shoved the door open. Frosted glass walls—semi-private, good enough.

He caught a flash of silver from the corner of his eye, the movement a second too late, barely deflecting the knife with a high kick, twisting just enough to shield his ribs.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” he repeated, incredulous, steadying himself.

“It’s a wonder how you moved in that tight-ass suit.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk about that later—someone’s coming.” He adjusted his pants, glancing toward the door. Heavy footsteps. Too close.

She exhaled sharply, brain working fast. A stupid idea surfaced, ridiculous but effective. Her lips parted in amusement before she said it.

“Kiss me.”

Joaquín blinked. “What?”

She stepped closer, urgency in her gaze. “Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. If we look like drunk guests sneaking away for some ‘alone time,’ they won’t question it.”

Joaquín hesitated, searching her face like he wasn’t sure if this was just part of the job, or if she was messing with him.

Trust me, her eyes seemed to say. And finally, he did.

His hand found her waist, the other tilting her chin up. A split second of hesitation, then—

Her breath hitched as his lips met hers, soft but firm, tasting of heat and something unspoken. It started slow, deliberate, but the second she parted her lips, it shifted into something else. Something dangerous.

Joaquín followed her lead, and she let him. His fingers tightened at her waist, pulling her flush against him, and—fuck—he was a fast learner.

To him, she tasted like something sweet and dangerous, like champagne and trouble, lips parted just enough to draw him in. Her fingers curled into his hair, and just like that, he lost the thread of where performance ended and something real began.

She pulled him in, deeper, fingers threading into his curls. The table pressed against the backs of her thighs, and she let herself be lifted onto it, legs bracketing him.

From the hallway, voices neared. Slowed.

She knew better than to react, but Joaquín turned slightly, just enough to see their shadows lingering. Watching. He tightened his grip, selling the performance. 

For them. For the cover.

That’s what she told herself, at least.

But to him, the way she responded—the way she kissed back—made him forget, just for a second, that this was an act at all.

She made a small sound against his lips—something like a sigh, something like surrender——and any rational thought disappeared. His hand skimmed up her thigh, gripping firm, thumb pressing into soft skin, feeling the heat of her beneath the dress. She leaned into it. Into him. Joaquín deepened the kiss, angling it, molding her closer. 

Was it still an act? Because the way she kissed him back—the way she melted against him—made his chest tighten, his stomach coil.

His thumb dragged across her jaw, slow, almost reverent—possessive—and he felt her shiver.

Fuck.

His hips rocked forward before he could stop himself, chasing some kind of relief from the tension knotting between them. Her breath stuttered, nails digging into his shoulders, and—

A muttered curse. The sound of footsteps retreating.

The second the coast was clear, she pulled back. Blinking. As if shaking off something thick and consuming.

For a beat, neither of them moved. The air between them felt thick. Charged.

Her lips were swollen. So were his.

Joaquín looked at her—really looked at her—like he was trying to untangle something he hadn’t expected to feel.

She cleared her throat, her voice almost steady. “Nice work,” she murmured. She meant it.

But she also meant, we’re not talking about this.

Joaquín didn’t answer right away.

He just looked at her. Like he was trying to solve something he hadn’t expected to want an answer to. And he wasn’t sure if the moment had ended.

And the worst part? She wasn’t sure either.

[magikdarkholme]

— starks daughter and the falcon

pairing — Joaquín Torres x femstark!reader

summary — some random posts and comments to start off my little universe i may be creating… WE SHALL SEE!

notes — fc is Enya umanzor, using her cuz she’s cool and pretty asf but reader doesn’t have to look like that!!!!

masterlist

An - Tony is sooo dad core, like the 👍 …😭😭also some usernames etc might be inconsistent but we move

@y/n

liked by JoaquínTorres, SamWilson, P.Parker2001 and 2,397,403 others

y/n: for once I have no words 🙂‍↔️

SamWilson: Yeah cuz you always yapping.

⤷y/n: Don’t give me attitude boy. I remember what you did…

Avengersfan3000: ooo lol, I wonder what Sam did

⤷y/n: He got caught following ai girls on Instagram… @SamWilson watch your back

Starkgirl: LOL NOT AGAIN SAM

Joaquintorres: wow lol my gf is so pretty lol

⤷Tonystark: Okay bud, calm down

Tonystark: 👍

⤷y/n: Wow... no need for the aggression dad.

CarolDanvers: Is that my shirt?

⤷y/n: Whattttt... lol noooo just.. very similar

@y/n

liked by Kate.bishop, N.romanoff, P.Parker2001 and 1,300,000 others

y/n: #pepperony4eva #myparentsarebetterthanurs

P.parker2001: not pictured - what he did after :/

⤷user234: omg what did he do after?

⤷y/n: He started off by throwing water at me and peter, then he launched FRESH strawberrys at us :/ Tony Stark is not a good person y'all. + pep is allergic too strawberries and he forgot.. AGAIN.

stargirl13: LMAOO are we surprised? did y'all see his expo? this man is so unserious...

Joaquintorres: Awe :) my parents in law are so cute

⤷Tonystark: You are ONE step away from me deleting all of your accounts, snd preventing you from creating new ones.

⤷y/n: If you do that i will tell mom what you did.. she wont be happy. Leave my bf alone damn!!!!

@Joaquintorres

liked by Samwilson, N.romanoff, y/n and 800,000 others

Joaquintorres: i am THE ‘i❤️mygf’ truther … i really do LOVE MY GF!!!!

Tonystark: lol u flopped

⤷y/n: WHO taught you that…

⤷P.parker2001: my bad…

Samwilson: Soon you wont have a ‘gf’. Stop acting lame boy.

User69: He is too hot for her..

⤷y/n: thats not what yo mama said last night

@y/n

[fluffyprettykitty]

Amarillo

Pairing: neighbor! Joaquin Torres x female reader

Word Count: 1714 words

Outline: Your second date with Joaquin goes a little bit different from what you were both expecting.

Warnings: Fluff with smut!, heavy nipple play, hand job, spit as lube, lingerie fetishization, body worship, grammar mistakes, if I missed anything or tagged something wrong please let me know!

Author’s Note: first time writing anything for Joaquin and so far the longest thing I've written, and this is also my submission for the @late-to-the-party-81 and @yarnforbrains all-new challenge, I used these two prompts (I think we found a new kink…, do you like my new...) and I hope I did this story and this character some justice, not beta 'ed, all mistakes are my own!

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics​

🌟 Please reblog and comment, all feedback is appreciated and warmly encouraged and allows me to learn what to work on 🌟

Main Masterlist ・❥・Joaquin Torres Masterlist

NSFW BELOW THE CUT. MINORS PLEASE DNI.

In the quiet of your room listening to some uplifting music while you were dressed up for your second date with the cute guy from across the street. New neighbor Joaquin Torres. He had moved to your neighborhood a couple of weeks back and immediately you caught each other’s eyes. Although dating a neighbor is always awkward at first, you kept your distance.

However, after a night out at the local cinema with your best friend, you happened to run into him as you were getting your snacks from the bar. Nachos with extra cheese just as he liked it, he noted, with a bright smile greatly illuminated by his white t-shirt. As soon as your friend saw you two talking, she faked a sudden illness and left you all alone. Gotta love smart friends.

That night out together transcended pure magic and was like the start of something new. He drove you back home and held your hand till you reached your house and with a soft kiss goodbye, he promised a much better date next time. Even better?

And so that was you today, picking through dresses and tossing around clothes wondering what's his favorite color? What is your best feature to accentuate? You remember him telling you that his favorite color is yellow as you pick your lingerie first. Cotton feels with a pretty overlay lace pattern. Hasn’t been long since you bought them but you haven't worn them more than once.

Over it, you chose to wear a semi-maxi dark green floral dress, a new purchase, and your favorite pair of beige faux leather sandals. 'Perfect' you thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror and then proceeded to fix your hair.

Picking up your bag, you proceed to leave your room with a final text to him, letting him know that you are ready. Only to get greeted by him a minute later standing at your front door with a bouquet of roses in his hands. What a gentleman. You place your bag on the table and you open the door for him.

Greeting him with your best-worn smile, accepting the flowers and asking him to come inside to search for a vase to place them in. As you moved around the living room, bouquet in your arms, you twirled around in your dress and give him a cute pose.

"Do you like my new dress?"

"Is very pretty, you look even prettier in it, you’re beautiful, Y/N."

Joaquin smiled nodding his head, sitting close by to the door. Finding the vase and carefully placing the flowers inside, you shoot him another bright smile. However, you noticed his eyes wandering to the slightly exposed strap of your dress. You felt his gaze fixating on it as you run your fingers through the strap to hide it back.

Yellow. Your bra was yellow. His favorite color. Just like you had planned. Naughty ideas begin to form in your head and you decide to let the strap fall down again over your shoulder.

You notice how his breath hitches, probably thinking about your bra and wondering what else you might be wearing. Letting out a deep chuckle as you notice the first droplets of sweat forming in his forehead. He's unable to speak for a few moments and you're only giggling, shaking your head.

Your plan is very much working, what you didn’t know is how much he actually liked yellow. That's when you finally notice it as he brings his hands to cover his crotch. He's getting hard at just the sight of you. A shock overwhelms him and he profusely apologizes and tries to leave.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, I’m sorry, your strap, the yellow, Dios, is driving me insane, I'm sorry, I should leave, this is not okay"

"No, please stay, Joaquin, is okay, I'm flattered, honestly you don't have to leave. You can…"

A wave of confidence washes over you as you take a step closer to him.

"Would you like to see all of it?"

His face is only a mix of shock and want as he nods his head and parts his lips.

"Please, I, I would love to but I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

With a smirk you slowly take both of your dress straps down, exposing all of your bra and your breasts. You take a look at him as you shift in your movement jiggling them for him. All things are better in motion.

“Holy shit, you’re gorgeous, y/n!”

He says in a hitched breath and you can tell he’s getting harder by the way his face looks concentrated and scrunched together.

“Go ahead, baby, touch yourself for me.”

Your commanding tone and your confidence lead him to palm himself at your sight. Pressing his lips together at his touch, a sense of pride overcomes you. He lets out a very small moan and is enough to make you clench your thighs together.

"Could I please, y/n, could I please touch them?"

His voice is close to a plea as he takes in your beautiful sight. Joaquin is licking his lips together just at the thought of touching them. Oh, you were about to make him a very happy man.

You motion with your two fingers for him to come closer. So he does not let a moment go to waste. Immediately grabbing both of your breasts feeling the weight of them in his hands, his breath hitching again and you look at him with a grin.

"Anything you want, baby boy, you can ask for."

"This color looks divine on you, cariño "

He barely manages to say as your next phrase makes his heart beat faster.

"All yours, baby, all for you, you can have them."

With a puppy look on his face, he leaned forward to kiss all over them tenderly but needily, alternating between softly squeezing them and kissing them. His kisses and his incredibly needy nature increase your desire.

Until he stops for a brief moment and looks up at you asking for permission with his beautiful brown eyes tugging at your bra with a pleading face. With a nod you allow him to push your bra down and so he does, taking a moment to marvel at the sight of them complimenting you.

“You look like a Goddess, Y/N. Real Aphrodite coming to life.”

With his delicate fingers, he begins to circle both of your breasts with large strokes, reaching for the areola and easing into a gentle breast massage. After a few moments, he gives them a little squeeze.

Then he goes on to trace your areola without touching your nipples, the sensation leading you to shut your eyes and your breathing pattern to change.

Joaquin moves his fingers to your nipples which are now very erect and hard, rubbing them slowly, increasing speed and pressure as you are reacting to his touch. You were very hot and bothered, your one hand going to wrap behind his neck for support.

That’s when he pinches your nipples, a rush of sensation flowing through you. He goes soft at first but then he pinches your nipples harder making you moan out his name in pleasure. Oh, you were very foregone now.

Switching his movements again he alternates between pulling your nipples and twisting them with his fingers, a very eager expression on his face as you react positively to all of his micro touches. You’re arching your back as you try to press yourself against the bookcase.

His next move is to take his fingers away and start breathing over them, blowing hot air on your now very sensitive nipples. Your mind goes crazy with all of the stimulation.

With a swift move, he takes a nipple between his lips and hungrily licks it in circles with the tip of his tongue. Shutting his eyes as he moans at the taste. Your own panties are now long drenching in your wetness. Your breasts were always the most sensitive part of your body. How on earth did he know? A very lucky coincidence to share.

Doesn't take him long to start sucking on the nipple, utterly desperate at the feel of your breast squeezing the other with the palm on his hand. Then, your hands are going to unbuckle his pants and palm his clothed cock, making him let go of your nipple for a second.

You reach for his cock, pushing his underwear down which only makes him suck harder on your nipple. Joaquin, then he flicks your nipple with the tip of his tongue moving on to cover it with the flat of his tongue.

You spit on your hand, the pure sound of it making him moan again once he realizes what you are doing. You spread it all over his cock and start pumping him slowly up and down. His pure fixation on your breast, his tongue working his magic on all of your sensitive nerves, is making your insides tighten and you’re finding it hard to sit still.

Going back to sucking on your nipple and squeezing the other breast, Joaquin is grinding his hips and cock to your hand, sounds of pleasure escaping both your mouths. Thankfully the windows are closed.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you and you feel explosions everywhere, the sensation spreading throughout your body as the pleasure has been building slowly and gradually. Your climax is powerful and is coming in waves as you are trying hard to grab on to him when you feel your whole body falling apart on him.

Your loud cry of his name, and the way your body trembles are enough for him to cum all over your hand shooting ropes of cum on you and your new dress. His orgasm was muffled by the way he nibbled on your nipple as he felt the wave of pleasure washing him over.

That's how you both finish in your living room, right behind the main door, his cock in your hands, the nipple overstimulation making you finish, which was never something you expected you could do. Oh, he was way too good with his tongue. Looks like he is a man to keep around.

"Guess what, cariño. ”

His voice was soft echoing through the room, after a few moments when you both caught your breaths.

“ I think we found a new kink for the both of us."

[yangrdn]

hiiii! if you're still taking requests for joaquin, can you do a fluff oneshot of him with a fem!s/o with adhd?

moments

pairing: joaquín torres x fem!reader with adhd

a/n: first joaquín one-shot! now, i had to do research to find symptoms in girls and adults to write this and tried to be as accurate as possible.and if this is inaccurate, i'm ready to take criticism and learn. i hope u enjoy reading this <3

summary: moments with joaqo.

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: none

my m.list

request | my taglist

growing up, you hadn’t had it easy. facing issues kids your age didn’t struggle with made it hard to make friends, focusing in class became a problem, fidgeting became a routine.

when you started school, that was the first time your mom noticed. your teachers had called your parents in, telling them about your different behaviour. at first, it got excused as excitement. you had just started school, being excited was normal. and the fidgeting wasn’t uncommon for children your age, as they also couldn’t sit still. but as you grew older, it got obvious that this wasn’t just you.

not being able to stay on one topic in a conversation and constantly being impulsive made it hard to communicate with others. to some, you were seen as arrogant or mean. to the ones willing to educate themselves and having patience, you were just a normal girl who liked to talk.

due to all the energy inside you, you’re also hyperactive. activities that were physical were the ones being chosen over the typical things girls like, as your teachers liked to call it when they explained it to your mom. calm activities are still having a good effect on you, too.

but still, you didn’t get the diagnosis until you got older. different doctors had told you before that you’re good and don’t need help. a reason for the misdiagnosis was the fact that in girls, symptoms of adhd were seen as a character of your personality. it wasn’t until your mom complained more than once to your doctor and explained to him that not being able to focus in class and getting distracted easily wasn’t normal. after running many tests and being asked questions, they finally had a picture of your symptoms and could give you a reason behind it all.

they also say that adhd in girls is much different than in boys, which is why you didn’t get a diagnosis with it until a couple months after you turned 17. after that, you were happy you had the knowledge of what’s been happening for years, but it still made it hard to communicate and brought its problems into your everyday life.

like right now.

the doodles at the side of your book page long forgotten, you stare at the tv screen. adventure time is playing, yours and joaquín’s favorite show. normally, you’d watch it together. but today you feel like reading instead, so you’re seated next to your boyfriend with his arm draped around you. you hum along to the theme playing, nodding your head slowly. when you look down, you grab the pencil placed next to you on the sofa and start drawing doodles on your book again, still humming along to the theme.

you hear joaquín’s stomach grumble, raising your head to look at him. he’s already looking at you, lips pursed in an attempt to stifle his laugh. you giggle and set your book down next to you, marking the page you’re on with your pencil.

“i’ll go make us something to eat, i’m hungry anyways,” you say, getting up and stretching out your limbs. “do you want muffins? i think there are still some from yesterday.”

“sounds good,” he hums, kissing your hand before letting go of it and letting you leave the living room. you leave him watching tv, walking into the kitchen. once you’re there, you halt in front of the cabinets.

where are the muffins again? you look through the different cabinets, searching through them and moving your hand inside them, in case joaquín put them at the back of them, hiding them from you. nothing.

you sigh and look around you, grabbing a glass and the bottle of water laying on the counter before walking back into the room to your boyfriend.

upon seeing you, joaquín frowns, but still opens his arms and welcomes you back in a warm hug.

“weren’t there any left?” he asks, kissing your temple. you shake your head and give him the water bottle to hold. he takes it.

“no, i didn’t find them,” you state.

“what? but i saw you putting them in the fridge yesterday before we went to sleep,” he notes. you let out a breath and turn your head to him, frown resident on your lips.

“did i?” he nods. you huff and stand up again.

“i think i forgot again,” you whisper and make your way back to the kitchen. there, you open the fridge and feel your eyes widen and a smile creeping up your face as a gasp leaves your mouth. “i found them!” you shout, letting joaquín know. you grab the pack of muffins and walk back to your boyfriend.

“i think i put them there in fear of having them melt overnight,” you remember and take one out, handing the other one to the boy next you. you plop down at his side and start eating, reverting your eyes back to the screen in front of you.

“they taste so good.” joaquín’s voice comes off muffled by the food in his mouth, crumbs of the chocolate muffin falling down his lips and landing on his lap, some on the sofa. you groan and throw your head back.

“amor! you’re leaving everything on the floor and the sofa!” you complain. he only laughs in response, prompting more crumbs to fall down.

“ugh,” you groan and roll your eyes, leaning closer into his arm.

~

“did you find it?” you look over joaquín’s shoulder, glancing at the amount of dvd’s in his hands and biting your lip nervously.

“y/n, i’ll find it, don’t worry,” he assures you and lowers his head back to the dvd’s.

sam and bucky are coming over today for lunch and a movie. they let you decide the movie, so you chose to watch the maze runner and have been searching for the movie inside your house all day long. at some point, you got anxious that you lost it and couldn’t watch it.

“yes but they’re almost here! what if you don’t find it by then!” you sigh and throw your head back.

“i’ll find it! if you want you can go and already take some snacks out,” he offers with a soft smile. you nod hastily and leave him.

there’s chips, popcorn and some cake. you decide to take everything into the living room and place it on the coffee table, letting joaquín know you’re back.

“ok, i think everything’s made. did you find the movie?” you step closer to joaquín, grabbing the dvd’s left on his left side and looking through them. “remind me why we decide to buy movies almost every month.” the boy next to you chuckles, nodding along.

“y/n?” you only hum, staying focused on the movies in your hand. “i- i think you found the movie,” he says. you frown, looking up at him and back down at your hands. shaking your head, you frown again.

“que? no, i didn’t fi-” you stop yourself from talking when you focus on the movies in your hand, giggling when you see it. “i think i didn’t see it.”

~

your leg is shaking, going up and down as you wait for your ice cream with torres sitting next to you. it’s warm outside, so you chose to sit in the shop today, since it’s cooler in there. the lady at the register calling different names, every sound ringing in your ear as you wait for your order to be finished.

“you good?” joaquín asks, glancing at your nervous fingers. you’re picking at your skin, again. you hum, not really listening. he sighs and takes your hand, drawing your focus back to him and making you look up.

“you need the pencil?” he takes out a blue pen, rolling up his sleeves as you nod and take the pen from his hand, starting to draw flowers on his arm and the palm of his hand.

“does this tickle?” you wonder out loud, stopping to glance up at him.

“no tanto, but it feels good, don’t worry.” he pecks your lips.

~

it’s late, the rain outside pouring and the moon casting a glim light in your room. you’re laying in bed with him.

“‘quin?” you whisper into the dark, wanting to know if he’s still up. you hear him shuffle behind you, raising his head from where it was resting in the crock of your neck. he hums in response.

“are you up?” you feel his hot breath hit your neck when he laughs.

“i am, now,” he croaks out. you turn your head a little, staring at his face.

“you know, i was thinking about this dog we saw earlier. can we get one?” you ask. he frowns, coughing.

“uhm, yes if you want. but now we’re going to sleep, i’m tired,” he mumbles and cuddles back closer to you, pulling you into his embrace, pressing your back to his front. you hum, closing your eyes.

“oh and earlier you said you were going to explain to me how that one blue game works. i forgot the name,” you trail off at the end of your sentence and frown, what was it called.

“what blue game?” “the one from earlier.”

“what game from earlier?” you roll your eyes and free yourself from his hug, sitting up.

“the one sam told you about! he showed you a picture, too!” you throw your hands up.

“babe, that was monopoly, the game you’re talking about isn’t even blue. now come back i was about to fall asleep,” he answers and pulls you down. you nuzzle into his chest, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes again.

“ok ok, i think i keep forgetting the games he’s shown us. night,” you whisper and raise your head to kiss his chin, humming in content when he lowers his head for you to kiss his lips instead.

“can we go get more ice cream tomorrow?” you hear him sigh and chuckle, knowing that he’s probably trying his best to ignore you.

translation:

amor - love

que? - what?

no tanto - not much

taglists

permanent

@bi-lmg @aayaissaa @fandomxreaders

joaquín torres

@samscaptain @jades-tea-shop

[moonlight-prose]

JOAQUÍN TORRES

Under no circumstances may you steal my work, say it's yours, or post it somewhere else. The writing I put on here are mine unless stated otherwise.

smut = 🔥 | angst = 💫 | fluff = 🌙

Whispered Words |🌙

Summary: Words meant everything. So why couldn’t you say the most important ones?

Siempre | 18+🔥

Summary: He was leaving for the army and you had yet to say three little words that would change the course of both of your lives. So what happens when you invite him out for a night with friends and things begin to match the hot weather outside.

Three Floors |🌙

Summary: A compliment, a three floor ride in an elevator, and all of ten minutes can change your life for the better.

Over the Moon | 18+🔥| Kinktober 2022

Summary: He loved you as if you were all the stars and moon in his sky, because to him…you were.

Drunk on You | 18+🔥| Kinktober 2023

Summary: “After a long week of stress—your job taking more out of you thank you would have liked—you needed a night out. If only to spend time with him.”

[websterss]

WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO US — JOAQUÍN TORRES

SUMMARY: My spin on Joaquín's mutated comic storyline.

WARNING(S): angst

WORD COUNT: 1,119

PAIRING: mutated!Joaquín Torres x fem!reader

A/N:  I don't know how to feel about this, but I wanted to get this idea out of my head. I could've written more I know. I hope you guys enjoy the story. Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You ran down the dark brown and rusted corridors. Your breath picked up from each turn of your head. Left, right, then left again. Your blood ran cold, just hoping one of these cells held your beloved. Tears began to form over your eyes as each empty cell filled you with fear. Where was he?

“Sam-“

“Nothing here, keep looking. He’s got to be here!” He spoke over the comms.

“But where?” You exclaim. "This is the only place where he could b-“ Your breath hitches, your fingertips falling from your ear.

A noise was heard from the end of the hall. You felt frozen as you heard a faint voice. Your hands shook as you slowly grew closer.

“W-Who’s there?” The voice croaked. That faint flicker of light you thought died alongside your lover, was ignited once more as you stepped in front of the cell. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping you as you peered at the figure who cowered in the corner.

“J-Joaquín?” You reached out, your hands gripped the bars. You slid down until your knees buckled under you. Your caps pressed harshly against the floor. “Joaquín? Oh my god!”

“S-Sam, Sam I found him! I found him!” You said a little more clearer, more louder. Sam’s head turned to the end of the corridor he ran down, his hand up to his ear, taking off in the directing he came from to get to you.

You had hoped he’d turn his head. You could never misplace those curls anywhere. His worn-out tattered jeans were still on him, the same ones he had worn when they took him. His dog tags were luckily still on his person. Glad they hadn’t taken them from him. Even covered in the shadows you could make him out. The distinguished rasp of his voice never fell past you. It was his eyes though, that you dreamt of seeing again. You wanted more than anything to have him turn to face you. Look at you with the eyes that only seemed to haunt you in your sleep. It felt like looking back at a ghost. The moment was surreal. How fortunate were you to be able to see him alive. How fortunate for you and Sam to get him back after months of struggling and striking down anyone who knew even a sliver of information about his whereabouts.

“Baby?” You pressed your face between the bars. “J-Joaquín. Joaquín it’s me. It’s Y/n. We came to rescue you mi amor. Sam and I. He’s here, he’s here too!” You breathed out a laugh. “He’s coming, he’s on his way to us. We’re gonna get you home okay? I’m gonna get you out of here…I just gotta figure out how to break the lock.” You pushed against your heels. Standing to your full height, you observed the bar door to your left. You went to pull on it when his voice shot out.

“Y/n-“ His head slowly turned. His body shifted as he unfurled himself from the corner he cowered in. He let out a shaky breath as he pushed himself on his hands. His stance was unbalanced as he used the wall to support his weight.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.” You nodded gripping the bars again, your heart skipping as he used his strength to get to you. “Te dije, qué no te recuerdas? Un mundo sin tí, es un mundo qué no quiero vivir.” I told you, don't you remember? A world without you is a world I don't want to live in.

Your smile widened and relieved as you had been, began to fade as his figure appeared moreover the provided light in the corridor. There wasn’t much to it but even then, when he stepped up to the bars, his fingers wrapping around the poles. The oddity of his hands was what unsettled you first immediately; talons where his fingernails should’ve been. Then as you followed the path of the length of his arm, is when you noticed it. The rugged texture that dawned his skin and upper arms; added texture, almost bird-like. The way he was hunched forward as if he had to take on a new unfamiliar added weight to his physique, it’s because he did have to. Your breath hitched as your eyes lowered and lowered until they landed on the ground…you could cry, you did cry as you took in his appearance. His torture, the trauma that was inflicted upon him against his own will. The way they mutilated him, mutated his physical form into something completely cruel. Their intentions were cruel. They had taken his beloved hero name and used it against him. Making him, against his will, take on a name he used figuratively that represented the way he soared and flew with the help of metal wings. Now in a literal fucked up sense, had made it so he’d be haunted by the impact he left behind alongside what he’d never know as a normal life again.

“I-I knew you’d come.” He choked, his voice cracking from the lack of dehydration and food he possibly hadn’t received. You pressed your lips together to keep a sob from escaping you. You glanced up at his face. The cover tied around the back of his head covered the eyes you so desperately hoped they hadn’t messed with. You prayed you’d have him back in some familiarity. If anything; his eyes were all you asked for. You hesitatingly placed your hands over his own. Provided him with the longevity of a gentle touch that wasn’t out to hurt him.

“Qué te hicieron?” What have they done to you? You drag your hands up to his chest, up to his neck, before you hold your breath. Your fingertips fell just beneath where the cloth started above the bridge of his nose. Please, please. You didn’t breathe until you pushed it up and off of him. Your hands stilled, flat against his cheeks as an unfamiliar hue stared back at you. They hadn’t messed with his face, untouched…but a tear spilled down your cheek onto your suit as amber eyes met yours, filled with guilt. “I’m sorry, mi amor. Lo siento!” You cry even more as he leans in and kisses the inside of your wrist gently.

"You found me..." He reassured you. "I'm okay now."

"Y/n, Sam, how he is, is he okay?" You hear in your comm, but Sam's voice is miles away. Drowned out by the harsh reality that Joaquin was safe and alive, different, but yours still. "Y/n, it's Sam, do you read me? Y/n?"

You shakingly raise a finger to your right ear. "Y-Yeah...I–I copy."

[syven-siren]

“They’re approaching the border fast. You think he’s gonna make it?” Your inquiry is made to hide your nerves. Watching through the binoculars as Sam grapples with enemies, you silently fret over being unable to do more. There is not much you or the rest of your convoy can do but relay information to the lone soldier in the sky. It would be an incredible feat for the man to pull off this mission with his only backup being miles below him on the ground.

“All we got is hope. If anyone can do it, it’s Sam.” Joaquín’s conviction is infectious. Not one for unrealistic doubt or misplaced worry, his sense of enthusiasm seems to brighten even the most drastic of circumstances.

The corners of your mouth quirk upward as your eyes scan the sky, looking for enemy combatants, “Ya know, Torres. That cheery optimism of yours always makes me smile.”

“I’ll...” He clears his throat once. Then twice, “I’ll take that. You’ve got a nice…really nice smile.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

His eyes dart between you and tracking Sam’s movements as he fumbles over his response. Half of it gets jumbled on the path from his brain to his tongue and you can’t be certain any of what he is saying are actual words. You cough in a failed attempt to hide the breathy chuckles that are a result of his sudden shyness.

“Hey, you two think you hold off on the dating plans until we finish this?” Sam’s voice is stern but cuts with an edge of playfulness.

“Sorry, Sam.”

“Thanks. Oh and Torres, make sure you take her to someplace nice. She deserves it after listening to all that rambling.”

A wide toothy grin envelopes Torres’s face, and you can’t help but mirror it with one of your own. Torres’s eyes connect with yours before he answers, “Yes, sir.”

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed it. It would really mean a lot! Feedback is always appreciated.

Avengers Masterlist

Buy me a coffee?

[halliejaade]

Here's a little one shot from my upcoming Joaquín Torres x Female Reader fic, Edelweiss. It's a childhood friend's to lovers fic and I am so excited to share it with you all!

Tick...

Your knee bounces rhythmically.

Once. Up. Down.

Twice. Down. Up.

You pause. Once, and then twice again. You're not sure what it is about the combination that calms you, but you've always done things in pairs. The clock in the corner ticks loudly, reminding you that in only an hour you'll have to say goodbye.

You never quite mastered that; not when your childhood dog, Lucy, passed away. Not when the blip happened and everyone you loved just... disappeared. And certainly, most definitely, you didn't think you could bear this.

Joaquín grins nervously at his mother, who smooths out the wrinkles that apparently only she can see on his tan T-shirt. You weren't sure how he was able to make the uniform look so good, but somehow he pulled it off. He ran a hand over his cropped hair, before turning to you.

"Don't look so sad, rain boots," He says, attempting a bright smile. The nickname makes you laugh somberly.

You had only been twelve when you moved into the house next door to his. For whatever reason, for an entire year, no matter the occasion, you refused to wear any shoes other than your bright green rain boots. Joaquín had adopted the nickname for you after you became friends, and had never stopped calling you it.

Tick tick...

You blink owlishly, willing the tears to dry before they can spill over your lash line.

His mother glances between the two of you. "I'll just be over there for a moment."

She joins your mom at the cafe which is probably too expensive for their tastes, but is a good reason to allow the two of you this last moment together in the busy airport.

"Do you have to go?" You ask quietly, fiddling with your favorite bracelet.

He steps into your space, his boots coming toe to toe with your dirty sneakers. The sight causes a tear to finally spill down your cheek.

"I'll visit when I can, okay? I swear to you." He whispers, placing his hands on your shoulders. The look you give him after makes his heart squeeze painfully.

He hates seeing you so sad. Hates the fact that he's the reason you're crying.

"Please-" You hiccup, "Please be safe, Joaquín."

Tick tick tick...

One moment, you're standing toe to toe with him, and in the next, you're pressed close to his chest. You turn your face into his neck, his arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.

"You remember when we were little and we always played heroes?"

You nod, before sniffling. You had never cared much about the Avengers, hadn't cared much about paying attention to things like that, but Joaquín was always so excited that you couldn't help but fall in love with the concept of the superheroes.

"I'm finally making that dream come true," He says into your hair. "I'm gonna make little me proud."

You tighten your arms around his torso. "I'll be the first to buy your figurine when you inevitably save the world some day."

He pulls back, and looks into your eyes. "I'll miss you so very much, Y/n. But I'll write to you, and I'll come home whenever I can. I'll be safe. I swear."

The prospect that he'll write you letters makes you giggle. "You remember the letters?"

He nods, his own laugh escaping his lips as he recalls how twelve year old you thought it was so romantic that soldiers sent letters home to their loved ones. "I'll do anything to make you smile."

Tick tick tick tick...

An announcement screeches over the speakers.

Joaquín frowns slightly, before letting go of you. Both his mother and yours abandon their coffees, and join you back near the gate.

"I have to go now," He says, as if the announcement didn't tell you that already.

Boom.

Another quick round of hugs goes around before Joaquín grabs his bags and leaves.

"Do you think he'll turn around?" Your mom asks.

Joaquín's mom nods, "Y/n is here. Of course he will."

As if on cue, he turns, right before he's out of sight. He waves to your mother's before his eyes land on you. He sends a wink your way, and mouths, "I'll see you before you know it, rain boots."

You only hope that he's right, and that he'll come home safe and sound.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 24

Request: Yes or No

Lil short

~

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, call Bucky." You gripped the steering wheel, driving back to the city. You definitely couldn't leave Bucky alone. He'd either have a breakdown or burn the city to the ground.

"Calling Bucky... Call failed. Should I call Sam Wilson?"

"Oh, fuck, Sam.. Uhm, try Bucky again and then Sam. If Sam doesn't answer, call Sarah." You replied, swallowing as the city came into view. You hoped Monica would be able to handle whatever Wanda did. She was powerful but easy to talk to.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, could you make the car go faster? My boyfriend might go on a killing spree and I don't have money to bail him out." You felt the car speed up, breathing out a thanks. The car slowed down upon entering the city, maneuvering through traffic before parking outside of the apartment building. You quickly got out of the car and entered, heading up to your shared apartment. You entered the apartment, hearing the tv echoing through the apartment.

"Babe? Baby?" You called out, checking the kitchen, bedroom, and livingroom. All the rooms were empty. You ran a hand through your hair, standing infront of the tv as John Walker, the new Captain America, spoke about being Captain America. You sighed, taking a seat on the couch. You rubbed your forehead, closing your eyes. You opened them when you heard the sound of paper crumbling, lifting your foot and seeing a sticky note. You picked it up, reading the writing on it.

'Meet me at this address -Bucky'

You frowned, standing up and typing in the address into your phone. You left the apartment, heading to your car. You got in, having F.R.I.D.A.Y drive to the location.

"Why would Bucky go there?"

"I believe Sam Wilson is working with the military there." You sighed softly at F.R.I.D.A.Ys' words. You hadn't seen Sam since Wanda had disappeared. You arrived at the airport, getting out and seeing Bucky.

"When I call you, answer it." You walked towards him. Bucky gave a small smile, extending his arms and wrapping them around you.

"Sorry, tiger. I need to have some words with Sam."

"About?"

"The Captain America wannabe." Bucky muttered bitterly, frowning as his gaze hardened. You placed a hand on his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Bucky.. Don't blame Sam for this. He probably didn't even know." You pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Bucky sighed, shoulders slumping slightly.

"I know.. But, he gave up the shield. Steve gave it to him and now some guy who never even met Steve is calling himself Captain America." Bucky shook his head, fist clenching. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, leaning in and planting a kiss on his neck.

"We can talk to him together but I can't stay around. If you need me, I can stay but-"

"No, no." Bucky offered a small smile. "Wanda needs you."

"Seems like everyone needs me." You smiled gently, taking his hand. Bucky returned the smile before turning and entering the building. You looked over the airplanes, humming softly. Your gaze landed on Sam, a smile appearing on your face.

"You shouldn't have given up the shield."

"Babe." You breathed out, looking at Bucky. He walked forward, approaching Sam. Sam shook his head.

"It's nice to see you too, Buck. How you been, (Y/N)?" Sam looked at him, ignoring the small irritated look Bucky kept giving him. You smiled, hugging him.

"Decent.. I've missed you and Sarah." You replied softly, stepping back. Sam nodded, walking forward. You looked at the young man following Sam.

"Joaquín Torres." He gave a small shy smile, extending his hand. You shook it, chuckling at the soft blush that spread across his cheeks. A slight look of panic crossed over his features. You turned to look at Bucky who gave him a death stare.

"He's in a mood, ignore him." You patted Joaquíns' arm.

"This outrage is gonna have to wait, Buck." Sam said, glancing at his friend. Bucky looked at him in disbelief.

"You didn't know this was gonna happen?"

"No, of course I didn't! You think it didn't break my heart to see them march him out there and declare him as the new Captain America?" Sam questioned. You walked faster, falling into step with them.

"This isn't what Steve wanted." Bucky told him, frowning. Sam sighed heavily, rolling his eyes.

"What do you want me to do? Call America and tell them I changed my mind?" Sam looked at Bucky with raised brows. He patted Buckys' back.

"Great reunion, buddy. (Y/N), visit whenever you want, don't wait for me." Sam said, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"You had no right to give up that shield."

"This is what you're not gonna do. You're not gonna come here in your over-extended life and tell me about my rights. It's over, Bucky. Besides, I have bigger things to deal with." Sam faced Bucky. Bucky scoffed, brows furrowing slightly.

"What could be bigger than this?" He asked softly. Sam sighed, taking out his phone and clicking on a photo. He showed it to you and Bucky.

"This guy. He's leading rebel organizations all over the eastern Europe and he's strong... Too strong." Sam stared at you and Bucky, frowning. Bucky tore his gaze away from the photo to glance at you.

"Like.. Inhuman strong?" You asked.

"Yeah."

"And?" Bucky tilted his head as he watched Sam. Sam put his phone back in his pocket.

"He's been connected to this online group called The Flag-Smashers." Sam explained.

"Shitty name." You mumbled, earning a nod of agreement from Bucky. Sam cracked an amused smile.

"Redwing found him in a building so that's where I'm going." Sam shrugged lightly, going to step away.

"Well, I don't trust Redwing." Bucky called, following him. Sam stopped and looked at him again with slightly raised brows.

"You don't have to trust Redwing but I'm gonna go see if he's right cause I wanna find out if he's part of the big three." Sam replied. You furrowed your brows, tilting your head.

"Big three?" You repeated. Sam nodded, glancing between you and Bucky.

"What big three?"

"The big three. Androids, aliens, and wizards."

"That's not a thing." Bucky pointed out, staring at Sam in confusion. Sam scoffed.

"It most definitely is."

"No, it's not."

"Everytime we fight, we fight one of the three." You hummed in agreement, nodding.

"Who we fighting now? Gandalf?" Bucky asked, earning a surprised look from Sam.

"How do you know about Gandalf? How does he know about Gandalf?" Sam looked at you. You licked your lips, giving a slow shrug.

"I have no idea what you two are talking about." You replied. You couldn't help.but smile at their bickering. It was nice to have them back together. You knew Bucky hadn't responded to Sams' texts for multiple reasons but the main one was because he didn't know what to say to him.

"I read The Hobbit... In 1937 when it first came out." Bucky answered Sams question, a bit of smugness in his voice.

"So, you get my point."

"No, I don't. There are no wizards!"

"Doctor Strange? Wanda?" Sam raised his brows as he stared at Bucky.

"Sorcerers."

"A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat." Sam grinned, looking proud of himself. You chuckled softly.

"That's not the point. These guys aren't magical. They use brute force just like you, the incredibly annoying guy with a staring problem."

"That staring problem was what caught this guys' attention." Bucky motioned towards you. You bit back a smile, nodding.

"Yeah, kind of true." You giggled. You looked at Bucky, licking your lips.

"I should go. Please, don't get into trouble! I don't want a phone call from your therapist telling me you got arrested, alright?" You raised your brows at Bucky. Bucky nodded, leaning and kissing your temple.

"I promise I won't get arrested.."

"That's a goddamn lie." Sam muttered, walking towards a plane with Bucky following. You watched them walk away, hearing them faintly continue to bicker. You let out a deep sigh, turning around.

"And now onto Wanda."