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happypopcornprincess · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 3 || Friends? idfc

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - Feelings take over Joaquin and y/n as Mexico proves to be more dangerous than anticipated... bringing with it both new faces and old enemies.

Word Count - 4.7K

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!, unprotected hate sex, Joaquin and y/n being freaky asf, Language, Angst, Mentions of blood, DV, Abuse

a/n - This chapter's got a lot more intense stuff, probably the longest one yet! About Y/n's suit, I decided to go with the 'Black Widow' movie design, like Natasha's. I was thinking 'Civil War' at first, but the 'Black Widow' one was just better for the... ahem... spicy parts. Also, the POV will be switching a lot between Y/n, Peter, and Joaquin from now on. Hope you like it! This is my first time writing anything this hardcore T~T so please let me know in the comments if I got it right!

<< Chapter 2 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 4

Nothing could have prepared you for how cold the desert gets at night.

When you landed just outside of a small abandoned village in the middle of the mexico desert, the quinjet opened up to a cold gust of wind hitting you on the face. You heard Peter swear and then a loud smack followed just after, you let out a laugh, knowing it was Kate who did that.

Setting camp in an abandoned church was quite odd, but it was also unsuspecting. The roof was gone, what remained were the stone walls and the altar, which was somewhat intact. But the corroded wood on the platform told you one step would send you through the floor.

Sam held up a makeshift meeting place on the altar, and covered the backside of it with tarp as a space to sleep in.

“Team,” Bucky spoke up, “Briefing at 10, set up camp where you can.”

“Is it just me or is this giving major Resident Evil vibes.” Peter spoke to you, and you looked ahead as you walked through the church.

“Well now that you said it…” you huffed out looking at the blown out ceiling, an eerie feeling of being there all on your own creeping up your back.

You tried not to think about it, but the feeling only grew as all of you worked in silence, the only sound being the shuffling of your team with the equipment, “Guys,” Peter smashed a box on the floor, stealing everyone’s attention, “I think we’ve got company.”

You tensed, hand on your utility belt, Peter's senses were rarely wrong.

“Company as in, Kingpin?” Shang Chi asked with caution, the rings around his arms glowing golden.

“No.” Peter took a deep breath, deploying his suit, “something else.”

“Ghosts?” Kate perked up, and you shot her a look, “I mean…” you shook your head at her as she strung her bow, but still, you locked eyes with Peter.

A heavy, brooding voice cut through the eerie silence, “Looks like we’re not the only one hinting kingpin, red.”

The sound of a clocking G36 Rifle made you grab your Glock and point it towards the source; the altar.

Out from the shadows, as though magic, you see a big white skull coming in view, sending shivers down your spine. Everyone suits up, bucky pointing a gun at it, and as the figure stepped out into light, you saw the skull was spray painted onto a bulletproof vest. And the wearer was none other than…

“Punisher?” Sam’s puzzled tone made the grip on your gun stronger, “but-” he couldn’t complete his question, when a flash of red appeared right in front of him.

The figure stood up, and the realization made you drop your jaw on the floor.

Horned helmet, in a suit entirely crimson red, eerily close to the color of blood. It was Daredevil. The devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

Amongst everything unravelling in front of you, all you could mutter out… was…

“What the fuck is going on?”

—/—/—

“We had no idea,” Daredevil said, eyes trained on the ground, “the avengers were onto Kingpin.”

Frank Castle, the punisher, chuckled, “thought we were the only one searching for him, like always.” his tone laced with mockery.

“What’s up with that sarcasm man?” Shang Chi spoke up, making Frank look at him.

“Shouldn’t you be in San Fran?” he asked, his stance relaxed, earning a bewildered look from Shang Chi. He looks at you and you shrug in confusion, but still alert at the man standing in front of you.

“I met you once,” Kate stepped forward, “you told me to stay away from Hell’s Kitchen.”

You remembered that rain-soaked night, the chaotic alleys of Hell's Kitchen, crashing into Kate as she ran towards you. She had gripped your arms, her eyes burning with urgency, and screamed at you to run the other way.

Minutes later, you had witnessed a distant explosion, a building consumed by flames.

“You had no play in that war Kate,” Daredevil spoke, “your mother already paid the price, you should have stayed away from it.”

"After the Blip, Hell's Kitchen was a free-for-all," Daredevil explained, his voice strained with suppressed rage. "I was gone, Frank was gone, the Defenders were gone. Kingpin turned every gang in the city into his pawns." He took a ragged breath. "He's hiding here after Maya killed him… or so we thought."

"Kingpin was in Tamaha," you stated, your mind racing, connecting the dots. "That was the last place we had a solid lead."

"Yeah," Frank growled, "All of Hell's Kitchen is a warzone because of him. Every attack, every explosion, every murder, every act of violence… it's all him."

"But the cartel conflict…" you began, trying to find a thread of reason, but Daredevil cut you off, his voice sharp with anger. "It was his doing. He pitted the cartels and the mafias against each other, keeping the law distracted, preventing any semblance of peace.”

Frank continued, “Guess who’s running for mayor this year?”

You locked eyes with Bucky, finally clicking everything in place, Bucky says, “Kingpin will swoop in as the savior, the hero of the neighborhood who saved them,” you hissed, your breath catching in your throat. "The people don't even know they're being manipulated by the very man who's destroying them."

“Anyways,” Peter exhaled a sharp breath, “what next?”

“The fuck you mean, what next?” Frank glared at Peter. “We find Kingpin and blow him to hell.”

The room erupted in chaos, voices overlapping, arguments flaring.

“You want to blow him up?” Kate shouted, incredulous.

“Yeah, and you don’t?” Frank retorted, his voice a low growl.

“What happened to your no-killing rule, Daredevil?” Peter challenged, stepping closer.

Daredevil retreated, grumbling, “I won’t be the one pulling the trigger, Spider-Man. And don’t pretend you don’t understand. There’s no other way.”

“There might be,” Shang-Chi countered, his voice firm.

“You brought those rings for show, then?” Frank sneered, turning his attention to Shang-Chi. “One punch from you would be enough. No need for us to get involved.”

“I’m not killing anyone!” Shang-Chi bellowed, his voice echoing through the room.

“You’re not getting involved in this, Frank!” Bucky interjected, pointing his vibranium arm at Frank. Frank responded by stepping directly in front of Bucky, his hand hovering near his gun.

“Frank!” Daredevil intervened, his voice strained.

You moved towards Sam, who was preparing to step between Bucky and Frank, the two most volatile members of the group. Before you could speak, Joaquin’s shout cut through them. “HOLD ON!”

Everyone turned to him, Joaquin standing in the center of the room, frustration etched on his face. “Arguing won’t get us anywhere. Let’s just… I don’t know… sit down and talk it out?”

He looked at you, Sam, and Bucky. “We’re here to stop Kingpin, not fight each other. We all know Frank and Daredevil have faced Kingpin before, and if they want him dead… there might be a reason.” He turned to Sam, his mentor. “Please, let’s hear their perspective before we move forward.”

He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, before settling on Punisher and Daredevil. “I understand why you want Kingpin gone, but believe me… killing him won’t solve this. We need him to confess to his plan, or someone else will take his place.”

“So,” he raised his hands, palms open, “can we sit down and talk this through?”

You hastened to Bucky, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Bucky, please,” you murmured. You felt him take a deep breath, and Frank, though his eyes remained fixed on Bucky, stepped back. Their gazes remained locked, charged with unspoken tension.

—/—/—

And what the hell were we?

Tell me we weren't just friends

This doesn't make much sense, no

The cold desert winds have died down to a simmer, the moon above providing light in the empty atmosphere. At Sam and Daredevil's insistence, you, Kate, Shang-Chi, Peter, and Joaquin found yourselves excluded from the building. You didn't like it, but held onto the hope that Sam would manage the situation.

“Can someone please explain to me why we are outside? Shouldn’t our opinion matter too?” Kate asked in frustration.

Leaning on the outside walls, you spoke softly, “Kate…” trying to reason with her.

She didn’t stop, “Why even bring us here if they get to make all the decisions!”

“Kate…” you ask her to stop, a warning in your tone. You could understand why this affected her directly. She was left all alone by the direct involvement of Kingpin and his schemes. She was the victim of his scheming plans.

“No, Y/n, Frank can’t kill Kingpin. He has to go to jail for what he did.” she huffs out.

“And how did that work out the first time?” you ask her a genuine question, “you think he won’t be able to bribe his way out again?”

“Are you agreeing with them? He is a mercenary y/n.” Kate walked up to you.

“I never said that.” you stood straight, watching Shang Chi trying to pull Kate away from you.

"She swats his hand away, looking right at you, “I want him behind bars, dying a slow, agonizing death, suffering for years and years watching how he ruined so many lives for his gain.”

“Kate…”

“He is the reason my mom’s in jail!” she screams.

Joaquin held you back, trying to silently plead with you not to speak further, but the words slipped out, “She is in jail because of her involvement with him. She is responsible for what she did Kate… you can’t change that.”

Anger contorted Kate's face. She shoved you, immediately being restrained by Shang-Chi. “Do you even know what it feels like to lose the only family you ever had? Did you ever lose anything, Y/N?”

The raw hurt that flashed across your face was impossible to hide. You saw the moment Kate realized she’d crossed a line, a flicker of regret in her eyes. Peter held her back as she lunged forward again, and Joaquin rushed to your side, his hand reaching for your arm.

You shrugged him off, the sting of her words still burning. Without a word, you turned and hurried towards the Quinjet, your footsteps echoing on the hard ground.

“Y/N!” Peter called after you, his voice laced with concern, but you didn’t dare look back.

Joaquin, his expression a mixture of worry and understanding, hesitated for a moment, then followed you. He didn't say a word to the others, just gave them a hard look before turning to go.

Inside the Quinjet, the silence was thick with unspoken emotions. You moved to the pilot's seat, running a pre-flight check, your movements sharp and precise.

Joaquin settled into the co-pilot seat, his gaze fixed on you. "Y/N," he began, his voice soft, "are you—"

"Because you started it, Y/N! You brought her mom into this, can't you see you're in the wrong here?" Joaquin's words hung in the air, a final, stinging accusation.

"Wrong?" you spat, the hurt and anger boiling over. "I'm wrong? She pushed me!"

"And you pushed her buttons!" he retorted, his voice rising. "You know her history, you know her triggers, and you still went there!"

"So what? I'm not the one who put her mother in jail!" you demanded, your voice cracking. "She brought my brother into this, Joaquin! She knows what happened, and she used it against me!"

“Your brother?” he asked, his tone laced in confusion, “what brother? Why don’t I know about this?”

“You don’t need to know about him.” you try to turn away from him but he grabs your wrist, forcing you to face him.

"Why not, Y/N? After everything we've been through, why can't you trust me with this?"

Your chest tightened, a knot of fear and frustration. "Because..." you breathed, "I- I don't want to."

“You don’t want to?” Joaquin let out a dry laugh, “are you listening to what you’re saying?”

"You don't need to know about me, Joaquin!” you push him away.

“But I want to!” he shouts back, grabbing your shoulders, his grip tight. “I want to know why you get closed off everytime I bring up your past! Or anyone! I want to know why you can’t talk about it!”

"Why do you want to, Joaquin?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

"Because I love—"

"No!" you cut him off, the word a desperate plea. You knew what he was about to say, and you couldn't bear to hear it. "Don't say it!" You pushed him away, the force of your anger sending him stumbling back.

“You can’t say it, Joaquin.” you pleaded.

His eyes bore into yours, his gaze unwavering, “I want to, and I know that you want to say it too.”

'Cause I have hella feelings for youI act like I don't fucking care'Cause I'm so fucking scared

I'm only a fool for youAnd maybe you're too good for me

I'm only a fool for you

But I don't fucking care at all,

Blinded with rage, you stepped forward and slapped him across his face, and he stood there, silently accepting it.

At that moment, something took over you, and you surged forward, grabbing his neck, your lips crashing against his.

It wasn't a kiss of passion, but a desperate, angry collision. He responded in kind, his hands gripping you tighter, the kiss a raw expression of the frustration and unspoken desire that had been simmering beneath the surface.

He shoved his tongue down your throat, and you pushed him back on the seats of the Quinjet, straddling him, your mouth not leaving his even for a moment.

Joaquin retreated for a second, gasping, “F.R.I.D.A.Y… disengage surveillance, and lock the doors,” before undoing your utility belt. He bit your lip as you got busy undoing his suit, your tongues fought for dominance, the only sound being the mechanical whirl of the closing doors of the quinjet.

You did quick work on his pants, and he left your lips to take off his shirt, and as soon as his shirt was out of the equation, he unzipped the front of your suit, pulling down your bra and releasing your breasts. The cold air hit your skin as Joaquin took your nipple in his mouth, taking turns on them, his fingers rubbing on the other as he licked on one, in response you could only gasp and moan, clawing at his back, biting his neck.

The entire act was raw, primal, a need in your core waiting to be satisfied.

When he looked up at you with hooded eyes, they had turned dark, pupils blown in ecstasy.

Joaquin grabbed the back of your suit, forcing you to remove it completely, leaving you in your panties, as he unclasped his belt to get rid of his pants. His cock was erect, swollen, and already leaking precum, and you wasted no time to sit on his lap and stroke him.

He kissed you again, in an urgent warring way, and lifted you up by your waist just to slam his cock inside you.

A scream left your throat as he stretched you out, your walls pulsating already, and you grabbed his neck and choked him, rocking your hips agonizingly slow.

Joaquin gasped for you, his strong arms hugging you by your waist to bring you closer, which only encouraged you to increase your pace. You moved up and down on his cock and it didn’t take him long to thrust his hips up to meet yours.

You moaned in unison, feeling his cock pulsating inside you as you chased your climax. He buried his face in the valley of your breasts, and you arched your back in response, his hot breath on your skin.

A scream left your throat as you came hard, milking him while he gasped for air, releasing inside you. You felt his juices leak from between your legs, connected so impossibly close to him that you could feel his heartbeat on yourself; inside and out.

You and Joaquin gasped for breath, your bodies still intertwined.

Then, Joaquin pulled away. His movements were abrupt, almost violent, as if he were tearing himself free from you. He refused to meet your gaze. The silence that followed was a stark contrast to the sounds of your breath against each other mere seconds ago.

He dressed quickly, but you, still recovering from the sudden shift, fumbled with your own suit, your fingers clumsy with a mix of confusion and hurt. You stole glances at him, but his face remained devoid of any emotion. He was calculating, debating.

"Y/N," he called, his voice flat.

Your heart leaped, a desperate hope flickering within you. "Yes?"

But I'm not hurt, I'm tense'Cause I'll be fine without you babe

He worked on his utility belt, his back still turned towards you, refusing to acknowledge your presence. "It's over," he stated, his voice as cold as the desert wind. "We're done."

A thousand questions screamed in your mind, but your voice was trapped, lost in the sudden revelation.

He turned then, his eyes finally meeting yours, but there was no tenderness, no regret, only a cold, hard reality.

"This never happens again," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don't mistake this for anything else."

—/—/—

“We will work together.” Sam announced, and while he earned some protests from Kate and Shang Chi, others listened to him in rapt attention, “Kate, Joaquin, Shang Chi, you’re with me and Daredevil. Peter, y/n, you’re with Frank and Bucky. Settle down for the night… we move at dawn.”

Peter took a deep breath, looking at Kate who was still fuming with anger. He was a bit skeptical of Frank, but now looking at him and Bucky who were discussing something in a hushed tone, he realized when it came to having a common enemy; these two were probably the best as a pair.

Daredevil was sitting alone on a beam on top of the altar, looking at the scene below. Peter knew he had to stay away from that man, as his Spidey senses tingle every time daredevil looked at him, like he was staring into your soul. In all honesty, Daredevil scared the shit out of him.

His eyes moved to y/n working alone on the ammo and supplies, and his senses perked up looking at how tense she looked. He then looked at Joaquin talking to Kate while looking at y/n, but then looking away as soon as she looked at him.

Shang-Chi sidled up, his voice low. "Quick question, completely unrelated to tomorrow’s impending doom."

"Go on," Peter said, bracing himself.

"Are they... generating a noticeable amount of static for you?" Shang-Chi asked, gesturing with a subtle tilt of his head.

"Yep, totally," Peter replied, his eyes following the gesture.

"But… why?" Shang-Chi raised an eyebrow.

"No idea," Peter said, with a shrug that was probably a bit too casual.

Shang-Chi hummed thoughtfully. "Is this about Kate?"

"I don’t think so," Peter said, his gaze moving back and forth between his two friends. "This feels... personal."

Shang-Chi's eyes narrowed, "Joaquin would have told us if something was going on with her, you know because she’s…"

"Yeah." Peter said, though he couldn't quite suppress a small grin.

Just then, Y/N’s gaze snapped towards them, making Peter and Shang-Chi deeply engrossed in examining their suits.

“Anyway,” Peter said, changing the subject, “bit bummed we’re not on the same squad.”

Shang Chi swooned, “Aww man, me too.” he pats Peter's back.

—/—/—

You agreed to take the first watch while everyone got some rest. One to give Kate some space at the moment and two, to stay away from that one man.

Frankly, staring at a wall was more appealing than him . The one actively pretending like you don’t exist.

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice made you look up from the sniper rifle you had set up on the nearest intact roof from the church.

“Yep,” you breathed out, going back to looking through the scope at the distance.

Bucky joins you on the ground, lying on his front, “I heard about Kate.”

“I’ll have a chat with her later. Kingpin’s first priority right now.”

“Okay.”

“Can’t sleep.” you ask him.

“No… I had a bad dream.” he breathed out.

That was enough to drop your stance and turn to him.

Bucky and you had made a pact early into your friendship; if any one of your nightmares returned, you would tell each other. No matter how bad or grotesque, the other would listen.

You took a deep breath, holding his hand, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Washington… Steve, Sam and Natasha on the highway…” he let out a shaky breath, “it’s been a while. First one since that flag smashers situation.”

Bucky looked at you with a warm smile, which just made your heart ache even more. This gentle, kind man went through hell and back all to be a pawn in the hands of the devil. The people who stole his life don’t deserve to be called human.

“How are you?” you ask him.

“I’m alright. I should be asking you this question. Are you good?” he says, squeezing your hand.

“I had an episode before coming here.” you gulped, your brother’s cries still ringing in your ears.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Bucky asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Joaquin stayed over.” you blurted it out like it was a fact.

Your heart contracts thinking back to that night, his tender touch, his familiar scent, how his arms cocooned you, how easily you fit right into them; like you belonged right next to him.

You shake yourself out of it, just to find Bucky looking ahead, a smug smirk on his face.

“Well well… you won’t need this old soul to sing you melodies to sleep now that you have a boyfriend-”

“-he’s not my boyfriend!”

“- to cuddle to sleep…”

“-I’m gonna throw up!”

“-Ah, cute couples courting each other… How I miss it.”

You punch his arm with full force, knowing full well he won’t feel it, just to make him stop.

He laughed, a genuine, hearty laugh.

For a moment, you forgot about Joaquin, the impending doom, Kingpin, the whole chaotic mess. It was just you and Bucky.

You look through the scope to check the environment, but what you saw made your heart drop. Amongst the pitch dark desert… a red, fiery dot on the horizon. Your sharp inhale alerts Bucky as he shoves out his firearm, and you scream into the comms, “Mayday! Mayday! Missile approaching 20 seconds out!”

Looking through the scope you come to a horrible realization: it wasn’t going at the church; it was coming right at you.

“Bucky run!” you scream at him, already on your feet with him running down the stairs when a deafening sound pierces through the atmosphere, and you feel the heat of the blast on your skin. You are thrown to the ground, and Bucky grabs your form and shoves you under him to protect you from the debris.

And then, the gunfire started.

War had begun.

—/—/—

You ran out of the debris with help of Bucky, and found mercenaries littering the streets. Bucky shoves you behind a wall, and together you scout the area. There were some 8 people covered in tactical gear and state of the arc weapons surrounding the church.

“Get to the others, I'll handle this.” he told you.

“Stay safe.” you look at him.

“Yeah, I'll join you at the church.” he winks at you, and runs out.

As soon as Bucky headed out, you ran in the opposite direction.

—/—/—

Sam had three people firing at him, redwing shooting lasers at every person entering the Church. Kate was perched up a beam, shooting arrows to injure, Daredevil had num-chuks out and about at the altar, attacking five soldiers at once. Peter swung around the area, shooting webs and hanging them on the ceilings. Joaquin was fighting alongside Sam, taking two soldiers at once.

The Punisher screamed at him and Sam, “I’m heading outside!”

“I’ll cover!” screamed Shang Chi, already blasting a group with his rings.

The two men stepped outside, and what followed was an immediate shower of bullets and blasts outside.

Joaquin shot one, but the other kicked away his gun. He readied his hands to fistfight him, but the soldier had other plans. He fished out two daggers, and began attacking him blindly. Joaquin on instinct picked the nearest object; a knife. He gave it his all, slashing and stabbing at him, but a machete was no match in front of two razor sharp daggers. Soon, the soldier was successful in disarming him, and just as he was about to slash his throat, he shook with bullets flying into him.

Joaquin turned around to look at the attacker; and found you with a semi automatic in your hands.

Sam spoke through the comms, “everyone get out of here it’s an ambush. Fall back!”

It was mere seconds before he saw you fall back, a bullet piercing through your body.

—/—/—

The sting registered in your bones before you opened your eyes.

A blinding light welcomed you back, sunlight falling right on your face. Looking around, you found yourself in an empty room, dust all around, lying on the floor next to a window. When you tried to get up, your abdomen felt like it was on fire. Looking down you found your upper suit gone, your tank top rolled up to your stomach, and bandages covering your lower body. A large patch of blood seeped through from your right side, just below your ribs.

“You got shot.”

You gasped as you heard Frank’s voice from the entrance, he stood on the doorway with a frown, his skull vest covered in blood. Your hands grabbed around the nearest piece of fabric; a familiar shade of green, and you covered your front.

Frank had his eyes on his shoes, he spoke again, “Don’t strain yourself. We’re safe for now. Take some rest.” saying so he went away.

You looked at the jacket on your body and let the realization set in.

It was Joaquin's.

The one he was wearing beneath his suit.

As on cue, you heard shuffling outside, and in came Shang Chi and Joaquin.

Shang Chi ran to you and hugged you fiercely, all while staying careful of your wound.

“That was quite a scare y/n.” he spoke, helping you lean on the wall behind you.

“You should have seen the other guy.” you tried to joke, but he didn’t smile.

“That wasn’t funny, y/n.” Joaquin spoke, his eyes blazing with fury.

Shang Chi gave you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder, “I'll be outside.” he said.

“Go easy on her, please,” he told Joaquin in a hushed tone, and left the room.

Joaquin didn’t come near you, instead opted to stay next to the door, his eyes trained on you.

“I had to fish out a bullet from you under a flashlight. And you think this is funny.”

“Nice to see you too, Joaquin,” you bit back.

Joaquin’s voice was a low growl, his eyes blazing. “You almost died!”

Anger and frustration boiled inside you. He refused to talk to you, and now he’s going to give you a lecture on staying alive. Pushing yourself up against the wall, wincing at the pain, you retorted, “You think I wanted to get shot? I saved your ass back there!”

“I didn’t ask you to save me!” He yelled

“You were one second away from being kebabbed by that guy’s daggers!” You yell back.

“I patched you up!”

“I didn’t ask you to!” You try to throw his jacket at him, but due to your wound, you just drop it on the floor.

He scoffs, “You are going to get yourself killed!”

“Then so be it!” you screamed with all your might.

Just as Joaquin was about to respond, Frank's voice cut through the air, flat and emotionless. "Enough! We have contact."

He stood in the doorway, his expression grim.

You locked eyes with Joaquin. A silent agreement of halting your personal matters until the situation is in control.

—/—/—

“Where are you?” Sam’s voice spoke through the comms that Frank had connected to an outdated radio he had found around the house you were camped in.

“A broken down house in the middle of nowhere.” Frank replied. He was right, this small two bedroom house was in the middle of the desert, with no other thing in sight. You had searched about some during the mission prep, about how people just abandoned their houses to move to cities.

“Peter and Daredevil are on the lookout. I’ve got Kate and Bucky with me. Is anyone injured?”

“Y/n took a bullet through the abdomen. She’s fine now.” Joaquin spoke, his tone monotone.

“Okay, tell her to stand down. We’ll meet near the kingpin's base and infiltrate in. I have contacted tony for more backup.”

“Wait! I have a plan.” you speak up, “after Frank and Daredevil told us of kingpin running for mayor, it got me thinking…”

The comms went silent, and after a while, you heard Sam, “go on y/n.”

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself, “Kingpin is about to run for mayor right? He’s got to have a voter’s base, people who will support him for his kind deeds of giving back to the community after going from rags to riches. But, what if we reveal his true face before he does this?”

“Go on.” this time it was Bucky speaking.

“Every shred of evidence we have, we leak it. Let’s broadcast it to the world who Wilson Fisk truly is. His crimes, his true intention after he becomes the mayor.”

“And how does this happen? No media house will publish anything bad about him. He’s the reason they are afloat right now.” Frank asks you, his gruff voice laced with curiosity.

“Internet.” you breathe out, “Running a crime syndicate on this scale… he’s got to have records. And he won’t be trusting it with anyone, so it’s got to be on a system he’s carrying all the time. His phone, laptop, something personal. I’ll run a cyber attack on their system, take every shred of data from his database and let it go wild on the internet. It will all be anonymous, untraceable.”

Shang Chi looks at you like you just won a marathon, and Frank had a smug smile on their face.

“There’s a catch,” Joaquin said. “A large-scale data exfiltration isn’t going to happen with a simple DDoS or Trojan. You’ll need a more sophisticated approach, likely involving a man-in-the-middle attack against his network.”

“Yes. exactly.” you state.

“Which means,” Joaquin continued, “you need to be within range of his local network.”

“Which means I’m going with you,” you said.

“No you are not!” Joaquin says calmly.

“Y/n,” Bucky’s voice came through the comms, “you have to lay low. I swear if I see you on site I will knock you out.”

“If we leak the evidence of all his crimes, his sentence might increase, and no matter if he bribes his way out… there will never be a chance of him running for mayor. He will lose all credibility.”

“You are injured!” Shang Chi protests.

“I won’t be fighting anyone.”

“And how do you plan on infiltrating his lair without a fight?” Joaquin asked you.

“Leave that to me.” Frank Grumbled.

To Be Continued...

<< Chapter 2 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 4

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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petertingle-yipyip · 24 days ago

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WAITING ROOM - JOAQUIN TORRES

Pairing: Joaquin X Reader // Word Count: 2,282

Summary: It’s not easy to date a superhero, so you stop. But when your biggest fear actually happens, you can’t seem to stay away.

You were sitting in Joaquin’s desk chair, using your toes to spin slightly side to side. You were - again - waiting for him to come back from whatever assignment he had with Sam.

The hard part about dating a superhero-in-training was getting used to the potential life or death situations he put himself in.

Yes, he was capable. Yes, he was strong and brave. Yes, you admired what he did and loved him for it. But it was harder than you thought to make the adjustment.

Sleeping alone because he was out of town, saving someone who needed it. Eating alone because the mission went sideways. Caring for wounds he shouldn’t have gotten, but he couldn’t help the intel was outdated. Putting a smile on your face everytime he left with the promise of coming back in one piece. Those were the cuts that always bled.

How many nights had you stayed awake, waiting for him to walk in? How many nights did you stay awake when he was recovering in case he needed you? How much food had you left out to get cold because you just couldn’t eat? How many messages had you left on his phone when he didn’t come home on time?

How much longer could you do it?

He was back from training exactly when he said he would be. A rare occurrence that you were both glad for and dreading. You spun to face him and smiled.

“Hey.” He grinned and you felt a weight settle in your stomach. This conversation wouldn’t be easy. “Told you I’d be on time today.”

He passed by you to put his stuff away, making sure to stop and kiss the top of your head first.

“Joaquin?” You quietly tried for his attention while your eyes landed on your shoes. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about…”

“I already know.” He answered and your head snapped up. “Date night. We could try that new Mexican place? I’ve heard good things.”

“Oh…” Your gaze fell again. How could you forget date night?

You made your decision then. You could talk about it later. You shook your head and stood, plastering that fake smile again. No one breaks up on date night.

“Hang on.” He stepped in front of you, a hand on either of your shoulders. He scanned your face and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” You tried the smile again.

“It’s not nothing. I know that look. That’s the ‘I have to say something I don’t want to’… Oh, shit. Did someone die?”

If only it was that simple.

“No one’s dead.” You said honestly. “We can talk later, okay? It’s date night.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you talk to me, querida.”

You closed your eyes with a deep sigh.

“I need you to know it’s for the better.” You spoke, still hiding behind closed eyes. “Please know that.”

“You’re scaring me… What’s going on, Y/N?” He said quietly. He gave your shoulders a small squeeze and you had to force yourself to push his hands off. “Y/N?”

“It’s for the better.” You said again, turning away from Joaquin. You’d never be able to say it if you had to look into those damn eyes. “I love you, J. You know that, and I love what you do. I’m so proud of you. You’re a superhero. That’s amazing. But I…”

“Hey…” His hand landed on your arm but you pulled away almost immediately. “Did I do something?”

“No, you… Well, yes, but… I think we should consider taking a step back.” You finally managed. “You know it’s for the better.”

“I…”

“I want to be selfish. I want to ask you to pack it up and just be with me.” You forced yourself to face him despite the tears welling in your eyes. “But who am I to ask you for more? Sam needs you. You need this.” You gestured vaguely towards the door. “I know that, but I need you too.”

“You have me.” He reached for your hand and you let him take it. He placed your hand over his heart and held it there. “You have me.”

“I love you.” You cried.

“I love you, too.” His eyes were welling with tears of his own. “Don’t do this, Y/N.”

“It’s for the be-“

“No, it isn’t!” He cut in. “In what world is this better? You need me, right? That’s what you said. You need me. Well, I need you, too. Just- Just tell me what you need me to do, querida. Tell me, please.”

You shook your head. “I can’t… What I need you to do, I can’t ask you. I can wish all that I want, but I can’t bring us together, Joaquin. I can’t have you.”

“But you do.”

You pulled your hand free. You felt a deep cold settling under your skin, as if breaking up with Joaquin stole all the heat from your body. You watched him nod slightly and wipe his sleeve across his eyes.

“I love you.” You whispered. “You’re going to be the perfect Falcon. I always believed in you. That’ll never change.”

He forced a tight smile and then blew out a sigh. You reached a hand for his cheek and then thought better of it. You patted his chest instead before leaving.

You didn’t talk to Joaquin much after that. There were a few exchanges, sending something the other thought was funny. Joaquin sent a picture of the skyline when you assumed he was flying. You liked that he still thought of you in those moments. He even tried to call you once or twice. You hadn’t answered either attempts, but he did leave a voicemail that you hadn’t listened to.

Something about hearing his voice would leave you missing him all the more.

It was a few weeks after the break up that you got the call.

“Y/N?” Sam spoke quickly, anxiously. The background sounded busy so you assumed he was on mission. But if Sam was calling you during a mission…

“Sam?” You answered with the same urgency. “What’s wrong?”

“He went down.”

“What?”

Everything in your body ran cold. Your worst fear was happening on the other end of the call, taunting you from a distance you just couldn’t reach. Your kind just kept repeating one simple word.

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

“I’ll send you the address. Get there as soon as you can.”

“Wait.” You tried but the call ended.

Your phone buzzed with the address and you were shoving your feet into the closest pair of shoes. Snatching your purse, you stumbled over untied laces on your way out the door.

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

Miraculously, you arrived at the hospital without a speeding ticket. The receptionist directed you to the room and your heart stopped in your chest when you got to the viewing area.

“Dear God…” You whispered.

Sam came to your side and put a gentle hand on your back. You practically threw yourself at him. You hugged your friend tightly and he returned the embrace.

“He’s gotta be okay.” You cried against him. “I need him to be okay.”

“He’s a tough kid.” Sam offered. “He’ll pull through.”

“How do you know?” You leaned away to look at Sam.

“Cause he knows you need him.” Sam gave a strained smile. “And he’s stubborn.”

You chuckled weakly. “I thought it’d be better if we broke up.”

You and Sam went back to the window. Watching the doctors move efficiently, seeing the tubes sticking out of him, glimpsing the numbers for his vitals. It all felt like a sledgehammer in your chest. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were wrong. Wrong to break up with him, wrong to not be stronger, wrong to walk away from him.

He wanted to fight for your relationship. He was willing to do whatever you had asked. He begged you to stay and all you could say was ‘It’s for the better’.

Looking at him in that state, how was anything better?

You curled up in one of the chairs on the other side of the room. You stared at the wall, tears quietly falling in steady streams, until your eyes were so dry and heavy you had to close them. Even in sleep, your mind was on Joaquin.

Sam eventually shook you awake and led you to Joaquin’s new room.

“How’d he do?” You asked quietly.

“Doctors had to restart his heart.” Sam confessed.

You stumbled over your still untied laces.

“Did he tell you the last thing I said to him?” You said weakly, practically clinging to your friend. “That I loved him and I’d always believe in him… Right before I walked away from him. What if he had died, Sam? What if they couldn’t get his heart going again? The last thing I said would’ve been breaking up with him.”

“Y/N…” Sam stopped in front of the door and frowned at you. “Right now, he’s gonna need you. I’m in the middle of some heavy shit, so you need to step up for his sake.”

“He won’t want to see me.”

“Last time he called you, you didn’t answer. He left you a voicemail. You ever listen to it?”

You shook your head.

“Go in there and listen to it. If you can tell me he wouldn’t wanna see you after, then you won’t have to come back.”

You sighed in resignation. Truthfully, you were too mentally drained to argue anymore. You shook your phone in silent confirmation and snuck into the room. The door clicked shut behind you and you settled into one of the chairs.

“If you wanted me to come around, you didn’t have to get shot out the sky, J.” You tried to joke, though you were the only one to hear it. “You always were dramatic though, huh? … You better pull through, or else I’m going to the afterlife and dragging you back by your ear.”

You sunk deeper into the chair and pulled up the voicemail.

‘Hey, Y/N! I guess I didn’t really expect you to answer. Kinda hoped you would, though. Just so I could hear your voice again… Hey! I, uh, I was flying earlier with Sam and I just couldn’t help thinking that you would hate it.’

He laughed a little and your heart ached. You scooted the chair a little closer to prop your feet against the bed frame and keep a gentle hold of his hand.

‘I know you kept saying it was for the better, but not a day has gone by without me thinking of you… I miss you, y’know? I come back from training or something and I- I look for you still. I check my phone for your text. I found your sweatshirt in my car and I almost started crying… Just call me back. Maybe? If you want. Huh?’

There was a bit of background conversation. You could just make out your name and some light teasing. Whatever Sam was saying, you couldn’t quite make out but judging by Joaquin’s embarrassed laugh, it was poking fun at him calling you.

‘I gotta go, but… Call me back? Okay, bye.’

You locked your phone and leaned your head back with a heavy sigh. Your heavy eyes closed again.

“For the better, my ass.” You muttered.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep again. The emotional rollercoaster of the day wore on you more than you had expected. There hadn’t even been time to fight the second nap.

The only thing that drew you out of it was the light squeeze of your hand. Your eyes snapped open and you sat up quickly. The bright sun coming through the windows blinded you momentarily.

A hospital room, the beeping of the heart monitor, the faint smell of sanitizer, a warm hand in yours.

“This is what it takes for you to come by, huh?” He asked playfully, a rasp in his voice that made your heart lurch.

“You idiot!” You scolded quietly. The aforementioned idiot smiled. “You could’ve died, J!”

“But I didn’t.” He offered with that stupid smile on his face still.

“Stop smiling! This is serious! If you had died, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” You admitted quickly. Being in that hospital, seeing the doctors restart his heart, it put everything into a new perspective. “Goddammit, Joaquin. I love your dumbass and you decide to get shot out the sky over the ocean! You’re lucky to have survived!”

“Y/N, I-“

“No, this is where you listen.” You said firmly. Tears were welling in your eyes so you dropped your gaze to the floor. Joaquin squeezed your hand slightly in response. “I thought it was selfish to keep you to myself. And, yeah, maybe it is. But I am selfish. I don’t want to share you with the world… I will, because I have to. Because you’re the Falcon and you’ve earned that.”

You forced your eyes up, ignored the tears down your cheeks, just so you could see Joaquin’s expression. His smile had fallen by then and his eyes were wide and attentive.

“You deserve to live your dream, J.”

“You’re my dream, querida.” He said softly. “I don’t want to do this without you.”

“I need you to live.” You stated plainly. “You’ll get hurt and you’ll be gone late and you’ll be off-grid sometimes. But you have to live.”

“If I’m coming home to you, I’ll live as long as you’ll have me.” He chuckled weakly. “I love you, Y/N.”

“This is for the better.” You nodded. “I love you, J.”

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tom-whore-dleston · 8 months ago

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the three of them

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f. reader, Joaquin Torres x f. reader, Sam Wilson x f. reader

This fic contains: angst, multiple situationships, implied poly!reader, long distance, implied infidelity, poetry format

Notes: This is my submission for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial theme: Great Expectations. The dating life is currently all over the place and I just wanted to dump all my feelings towards the relationships I have in a poetic way.

“What do you want?” They ask.

Isn’t it obvious?

You want Bucky.

But you also want Joaquin.

And then there’s also Sam.

In a perfect world, you would have all three of them.

Maybe even more if you wanted to.

Your heart is big enough to love them all the same.

Bucky feels a strong connection with you, yet he has Natasha.

It’s so confusing to both you and Bucky.

But Bucky makes you feel oh so good.

More than any other man has in your life.

Joaquin also wants you, but the distance between you both is greater than the yearning you have for one another.

Joaquin admires your artistic abilities and your passions.

He sees himself in you, hence why he loves you the way he does.

Someone said they see why you and Joaquin click.

Because you and Joaquin don’t take life so seriously.

You both know how to have fun and be silly.

You met Sam amongst the storm that is Bucky and Joaquin.

He is a safe haven for you.

But this safe haven will be shipped off to the other side of the world before you know it.

You have all this love in your heart that you’re ready to give.

But is now the right time?

Perhaps, there is another man, maybe woman, that is Bucky, Joaquin, and Sam combined.

They could be out there in this world.

It’s up to you if you want to explore that possibility.

But you’re not ready to let go of Bucky, Joaquin or Sam yet.

You suppose that’s okay.

Until those dreams manifest into nightmares.

What do you want?

Who will you choose?

In the end, you must choose yourself, no matter what or who you want.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Joaquin Torres Masterlist | Sam Wilson Masterlist

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blackwidownat2814 · 10 days ago

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Ay! Wake UP Joaquin! I feel like we're blatantly telling you without telling you!!!!

PART 0.5 OF A BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS JOAQUÍN x READER. Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader Warnings: Mentions of food and drinking. Word Count: 994 A/N: Thank you for the response on the first part of this little best friends to lovers series. Here is the second drabble. I hope you guys continue to enjoy it and are looking forward to the third part!

“Joaquin, you’re doing it again,” Isaac nudges Joaquin’s shoulder, breaking him out of the trance he’d been in – staring at you like you were the only person on Earth.

He blinks, turning to look at Isaac. “Doing what?”

Isaac only rolls his eyes, claps his hand on Joaquin’s shoulder, and walks away, attempting to catch up to the rest of the group consisting of you, Kira and Eddie. You’re all walking from Joaquin’s apartment, where you’d all met up, to a new bar not too far from it for a night out. Apparentlythe place does really good chips, according to Joaquin’s neighbour.

As Isaac catches up with the rest of you, Joaquin watches as you drop back a little and stop to wait for him. He’s well aware that Isaac had caught him staring at you before. How, he’s not sure, considering he was walking behind you and could only be staring at the back of your head. But somehow, Isaac knew.

“Feeling a little lonely back here, Torres?” You ask, falling into step beside Joaquin as he reaches you. “You’ve been quiet this afternoon. You feeling okay?”

How was he supposed to answer that? Oh, I’m only quiet because just as you arrived at my apartment earlier, I heard you talking to Kira about how the guy you’ve been seeing has been an asshole towards you. That I’m quiet because I’m mad that you keep ending up with punk-ass men that don’t treat you the way you deserve and yet, I’m somehow jealous of the fact that you are going on dates with men that aren’t me. Yeah, that would go down so well.

Instead, Joaquin shrugs his shoulders and tries his best to smile at you. “I’ve just had a busy week, that’s all. Y’know, now that I’m the Falcon and whatever,” he jokes. “There’s a lot of public pressure that I’m not used to.”

He almost stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk as you wrap your arm through his. The feeling of your hands on the bare skin of his forearm and bicep goes straight to his brain like an electric shock. He’s surprised that he manages to continue walking straight.

“Babe,” you frown at him, gripping his arm in what you hope is a comforting way. You’d figured that holding hands might be a little too much for best friends, but you also can’t bring yourself to not touch him in some way. Ever since he’d gotten all weird in the car a few months back, you’d been trying to feel him out and gauge his feelings to suss out why he’d gotten so strange over your date. “You’ll get used to it with time, I’m sure you will. And I bet that Sam Wilson is looking out for you while you do. I’ve only met him once but I could tell he’s a genuine guy.”

Joaquin glances down at you and his breath hitches as he sees you still looking up at him. You obviously trust him enough to keep an eye on the sidewalk for you while you look at him. The thought makes him feel a little warm and fuzzy. Your gazes stay focused on each other for a few moments, a little longer than necessary, until you both look away at the same time.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat. “How have you been?”

You think on his question for a few moments. “I’ve been good. Honestly.”

“That’s all you’re gonna give me?”

“Well, you don’t like hearing about my dating life, and apart from work, that’s all that’s been going on for me right now, Joaquin,” you admit.

Joaquin huffs, pouting a little. “Maybe I’ve changed. Any good dates lately?”

You glance up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “You seriously wanna know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I’ve been on good dates,” you say, keeping an eye on him to gauge his reaction, a little surprised at him actually wanting information on how your dates had been lately. “Have I found the one yet? I don’t think so.”

Joaquin nods, trying not to overthink his words too much even though his head is spinning – both from the way you’re still holding his arm and the fact that he’s desperately wishing that he was one of the men you dated. Well, the man.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that,” he says, as nonchalantly as possible.

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” you laugh. “There’s a reason I haven’t found the one? Like, I’m not ready yet or he’s not ready yet? Or there’s some kind of cosmic timing that isn’t going to happen for another five years? You know something I don’t, Joaquin?”

He’d usually laugh at something like this, but all he can bring himself to do is make a small chuckle and shake his head. Under his breath, he mutters the words “Why don’t you get it?” Thankfully, they’re too quiet for you to hear.

You tug on his arm to get his attention again. “You gonna explain, babe?”

There it is. That nickname again. You’re calling him that more and more often these days and it’s definitely not helping with the matters of his heart. That’s the kind of thing that you call your partner in a couple, not your best friend, right?

“I’m sure that the one is out there somewhere,” Joaquin says, scrunching up his nose a little. He’s glad when you turn the corner and he sets eyes on the bar on the opposite corner of the street. It means he can escape this conversation very soon – before he starts digging himself into a hole he can’t get out of. “I guess you’ve just gotta keep looking.”

He sighs, then, and detaches your arm from his own before jogging ahead to reach the rest of your friends, trying not to let the feelings of sadness and jealousy weigh him down too much. He’s definitely getting drunk tonight…

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

@sidkneeeee @dead-inside-but-happy @lay-lay-5 @marchingicenotes7 @phucboy @davinashifts333 @lomlbuckybarnes @laurenjbb @chansburgah @blackwidownat2814 @mischiefmanaged71 @madzlovez @marvelwitchergilmore @brittnicki @rheas-ripley @bcystar @victorsbathroomstall @giona45-5 @voodoo-tofu @happypopcornprincess @antixsocialx2 @innazra @lllucere @moonxnite @peacefangirl @ahoodgirl @ssinphetel @hiireadstuff @florkt @daisydadestroya @nanni197

#Joaquin Torres #Joaquin Torres x you #Joaquin Torres x reader #Joaquin Torres angst #Joaquin Torres fanfiction

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backtothefanfiction · 2 months ago

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Hiii!! I was wondering if you can write a joaquin torres x reader enemies to lovers? Thank uu

Under Your Skin | Joaquin Torres x Reader

Summary: an afternoon of training takes a turn for the infuriating when you are partnered with Joaquin… but maybe he’s not as bad as you think

Warnings: fighting, angst, nakedness (no smut), kissing

Word Count: don’t know, a couple thousand, I wrote this in app

A/N: this turned into something. Hope people enjoy.

“Kahn you’re with Bishop. Chavez, Williams. Y/L/N, Torres!”

“Uh no! Not happening!” you called out indignantly, refusing to even look at the man Sam had partnered you with for these drills.

“Why? What the problem Y/N worried I’ll beat you?” Joaquin jibed.

“No,” you turned your head to look at him disdainfully as the others left the three of you and began to spar with one another. “I’m worried I’ll kill you?” you gritted.

“Don’t worry,” he grinned playfully, “I won’t let you.” You rolled your eyes as his words worked to irritate you more.

Joaquin was always so peppy and he ALWAYS had something to say and you were so over it.

“Oh I’m gonna try,” you said stepping forward, your fingers curled up into fists ready to lunge just as Sam stepped between you two.

“Alright. ENOUGH!” he stressed and you reluctantly backed down. “Now you’re supposed to be a team. So act like one. You think me and Bucky used to get along?” he asked the two of you, but neither of you would look at him or each other, let alone answer. “NO!” he stressed again. “But did we try to work together because we were on the same team?” There was another painful pause as he waited for either of you to answer. “Yes!” he said, finally answering the question himself. “Now whether you like it or not, you’re teammates, so you better start finding a way to work together. Or else it could be everybody else’s ass that’s on the line,” he affirmed, before he walked away, encouraging you both to work this out between you like adults.

Joaquin folded his arms and swayed back and forth as he watched Sam leave you to it. “Soooo, are we doing this or?”

You let out a deep sigh as you rolled your eyes yet again at your situation, slowly resigning yourself to it, before you stepped forward, reaching for his arm. You seized the opportunity, using his brief moment of unpreparedness to flip him over your shoulder and onto his back.

He let out a grunt as he went down onto the mat with a loud thud, a quick look of confusion washing over his face as he reoriented himself. “Okay, if that’s how it’s gonna be.” he grunted before reaching out for your arm, his ankles tucking behind yours to pull you down to the floor with him before he rolled himself over you to pin you in place.

You sneered as you adjusted your other arm to reach for his wrist, forcing it out the way to alleviate the pressure on your chest and give you enough wiggle room to fight back. You brought your legs up crossing them over his chest, his arms tucked in tight to disarm him and rolled you both so you were back on top and sitting on his chest.

“Ready to submit pretty boy.” you asked him as you used your whole body weight to push him back down into the training mat.

“Nope,” he grunted, “but it’s nice to know you think I’m pretty.” he said, flashing you his signature pearly white grin.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t need to.” he grunted again before he bucked his whole body and you had to do a forward roll over his head so you didn’t smash your face into the floor as the two of you became disconnected.

You both quickly got back to your feet, your chests heaving with the exertion of the tussle. As you took him in, all golden muscles and shiny teeth, you really wanted to smack the smug look off of his face.

“Come on then, Firecracker, that all you got,” he taunted.

“Don’t call me that!” you gritted at him through your teeth before you charged at him. You took a run and jump in order to get some leverage, climbing up his body before swinging your whole weight around the back of his neck and down, forcing him into a roll again, his back slamming down onto the mat as he was laid out. You quickly rolled off of him, reaching for his arm before manipulating him onto his front and pulling his arm up behind him as you pinned his chest to the ground.

“Uhhhgg, seriously,” he grunted into the mat, “what did I do to make you hate me so much.” You didn’t have an answer for him.

Technically Joaquin had never really done anything it was just his energy that tended to rub you up the wrong way. If you were a black cat, he was a golden retriever. He was high energy and happy and in everybody else’s business. You would rather stay in your own energy and keep to yourself and absolutely left alone. He found a way to make a joke out of everything. It never felt like he took anything serious and you always felt like the butt of his jokes. The easy prey. Little nicknames or backwards references to the others about your moody demeanour. And that was all before you added his suck up mentality with Wilson. ‘Mr all oooh I’m the new Falcon. I’m best buds with Captain America.’ Barf.

“No? Not got answer for that?” he grumbled into the mat as you pushed his face further into it, willing him to actually stay quiet for once. But it was no use. “Fine.” he mumbled before he once again rolled his body to buck you off. You both rolled, once- twice- until he had you well and truly pinned to the floor. He was sat so high up on your chest you could neither move your arms or legs. You were completely at his mercy.

“See here’s the thing,” he continued while he had you trapped. His captive audience. “I don’t think you hate me at all. I think, you secretly like me and I’m so far away from everything you expect to like, so you do everything you can to put me down or push me away. It’s easier to pretend you hate me, than to admit to everyone else that I’m under your skin,” he taunted as your wriggled beneath him, trying desperately to get free, but failing miserably.

“You wish. No wonder they made you the Falcon with that bird brain of yours.” you taunted back.

“Go on, keep being mean to me. See what happens.”

“Uhhhgg get off me,” you groaned, his weight pushing into your chest. There were rules about not using your abilities in combat training to make it fair on the opponents who didn’t have abilities, but you were almost at the end of your tether and you weren’t above burning his arrogant ass.

You knew he could feel your skin beginning to heat up beneath his thighs as a warning, but still he didn’t relent.

“Oh come on now. Just admit it. I’m under your skin.” he retorted.

You groaned and struggled again to be free as his thighs began to squeeze the tops of your arms harder.

“Admit it!”

“FINE!” you finally shouted at him. “YOU’RE UNDER MY SKIN! Are you happy now! Now get the fuck off me!”

As you both got up off the floor, you finally noticed all eyes had been on your little scrap. It was the final straw. You felt like something under a fucking microscope. “You know what,” you huffed brushing yourself off. “Fuck this.” you muttered before walk out the training room, wanting to go on a run around the grounds on your own to clear your head.

Who the fuck did he think he was anyway? You had been working with the Avengers longer than all of them. You were friends with Captain America long before Sam took up the mantle. You trained with Natasha. They had never even met her.

Your lungs began to burn as you headed towards the trees, your legs and arms pumping harder, your focus determined as you followed the trail you always ran. The leaves and twigs crunched under your feet with every thundering step you took, but the further you went, the better you felt. You had always worked better alone. There was no one else to second guess you or undermine your decisions or get in your way. No one to talk your ears off and distract you from your mission. No one you felt you had to keep an eye on. You only needed to worry about yourself getting in and out.

You did three laps of the campus before you finally called it a day, figuring it would have been long enough for everyone to have finished their sessions and cleared out so you could hit the showers in peace.

As you made your way through the training gym and back to the locker room, all seemed quiet and you breathed a sigh of relief. Left all alone you wasted no time in stripping off. You grabbed yourself a fresh towel and headed towards the showers in the back. Completely empty, just how you liked it. No chatting. No team bonding. Just you and the calming sounds of the running water.

You always ran hot due to your powers and having a nice cool shower was the best way to regulate you and refresh. You knew that fire that ran through your veins often escalated things for you. Knew it made you a little more hot headed than most. Sure you knew you had made a bit of a scene back there, but that’s just who you were and Joaquin knew that. Which is why he found it so easy to push your buttons.

“Just admit it, you’re just jealous of me.” his voice came out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of you. You quickly pulled part of the shower curtain back to see him stood just outside your cubicle with his back to the wall.

“What the? Where the fuck did you come from?” You spat at him, then a realisation popped into your head. “Were you spying on me? Just waiting for me to walk in here so you could see me naked?!”

“Shit! No- that’s-“ he began to mumble, his eyes growing wide as he realised how this suddenly all looked. “I didn’t mean- but yes I did- but.”

You raised your eyebrows at him incredulously. “Oh my god! You have got to be kidding me.”

“I just. I wanted us to talk. To work this out.” he said.

“So you thought you’d wait until I was naked in the shower to do it!”

“I’m sorry, I just. Sam is right,” he tried to defend himself. “We are on the same team and we need to be able to work together.”

“Oh my god! You’re such a kiss ass Joaquin!”

“Yeah! And you’re a stubborn fucking princess who doesn’t know when to quit the bullshit!” he snapped.

You took a step back. You were stunned silent by his uncharacteristic outburst.

“I’m not taking it back.” he said doubling down.

“I didn’t ask you to.” you snapped back.

There was a pause before he said, “Well what do we do now.”

You thought a moment. This was all getting so out of hand again. Gods, you just wanted to have a moment and cool off, instead you felt hotter than ever. You were so infuriated by him. What made him think this was a clever idea?

“Strip off.” You finally said an idea of your own coming to mind.

“What?” he asked stunned.

“You heard me Torres, strip off. You’ve seen me naked, only fair I get a glance back.”

He paused as he thought a moment, trying to work out if you were serious or trying to psych him out and scare him off. And to be fair, you weren’t sure if you were either. You’d seen him in his gym wear. Felt his muscles when he was fighting. You had a fairly good idea what he was packing under his clothes- but did you really want to pull on this string and have the full package burnt into the recesses of your mind.

“Fine.” he eventually relented, his fingers immediately reaching for the hem of his shirt before either of you could back down. He figured, worst comes to worst, hopefully this would be a good trust/bonding exercise. “But-“ he continued as he began to reach for the waistband of his shorts, “I do this, you have to pull the curtain back so I can look properly too. Deal?” he said, reaching out for one of your hands still clutching desperately to the wet shower curtain.

You paused to rethink this through as you stared at his outstretched hand. It was clear from the look in his eyes he was deadly serious and up for this exchange and you could feel that stubbornness prickling at the back of your neck. You knew you would never be able to live with yourself if you let him psych you out and get the upper hand now. Before you knew it, you were reaching out to shake his hand.

“Alright then,” he relented. His right hand moved back to join his left around his waistband and he dropped his shorts just as you let go of the shower curtain.

Oh shit, you thought to yourself as you finally took him in in all his naked glory. He was gorgeous. Toned all the way from the tops of his shoulders, all the way down to the backs of his calves. As your eyes trailed back up his body and met his, you saw the same look of trepidation reflected back at you. What had you both done? You didn’t know what to do now. You were so in over your head with this guy. But one thing was for sure, you couldn’t deny anymore he was well and truly under your skin in more ways than you’d have originally liked to admit.

He tentatively took a step forward, kicking his feet out of his sliders and discarded shorts. “Woah, what are you doing?” You defensively asked, immediately taking a step further back into the shower.

“Sorry-“ he said quickly coming to a stop. “I just thought. The way you were looking at me. I just-“

“You just what?” you said hesitantly, but although you were still on your guard, your body relaxed to match his cool and calm demeanour.

“I just thought that you wanted… never mind,” he said taking a step back. But as he began to step away from you again, you found yourself stepping forward to chase him. Stop him.

“No,” you said softly, needing to hear what he had to say. “Tell me.”

“I just thought,” he said, rubbing his hand through his hair, “I thought for second you finally wanted me back.”

“What?!” you said stunned. Wanted him back?

“Everything I said earlier…” he said, struggling to meet your eyes and you self consciously began to move your arms of your body to try and cover your modesty a little more while you had this, now, seemingly more serious conversation. He sighed, “Look I was projecting my feelings onto you and I’m sorry, okay? Truth is, you’re the one under my skin. I look for you when I enter every room. I live to see those rare moments when you actually smile. I fucking love it when you toss me around like I’m fucking nothing. Do you know how impressive that is?” he confessed with a half toothy smile.

“I’m the one who’s fucking jealous. You’ve worked with so many of the greats, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton- Rogers, even. I just, I wanted you to at least think I was on your level. I’m sorry if that came off in the wrong way. I never meant to make you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you quickly corrected him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think you’ve got way too much energy and pep for a guy who’s been in the service and seen way too much shit. I think you crack way too many jokes at inappropriate times. And your fangirling…” you let your words trail off as you pulled a face to let him know how awkward you found that at times, but you quickly softened your features again. “But I don’t hate you Joaquin.” You reaffirmed.

“But you don’t like me like that.” he quickly surmised and your bristled. It was subconscious and caught you off guard, your body naturally reacting to the statement before your mind had even processed what it would mean. You had never even allowed yourself to ask the question before. He may have been projecting when he said what he had said before, but you realised he had also been right. And then it hit you. All this time you had been having a crush on him, you just hadn’t realised that that was what you were feeling.

He hesitated as he watched you silently process those thoughts. His eyes watching every move of your face and body with precision. Slowly he stepped forward again to test the waters and this time you didn’t step back.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want me to do this.” he said, but you didn’t tell him to stop.

His hand lifted to reach out to softly cup your cheek. Your eyes searched his, trying to work out if this was really happening. You took a single steadying step back into the shower but you still didn’t tell him to stop and before you knew it, you were both stood under the cooling spray, but neither one of you pulled away.

“Joaquin,” you quietly breathed into his ever nearing lips.

“I know,” is all he said, before his mouth was finally on yours.

It was everything you never knew you needed. His fingers moving from your cheek to behind your head to pull you in closer to him and your hands reached out and instantly melted against his chest. His kiss was both gentle and hungry. Sweet but desperate and everything you had ever wanted. You sighed into him as he deepened the kiss and before you knew it, neither one of you knew why you had been fighting in the first place anymore.

You broke the kiss to take a deep steadying breath and meet his gaze before you could allow yourself to get too lost in it.

“Was that okay?” he quickly asked for reassurance.

“Yes,” you softly replied as you nodded your head.

“Can I do it again?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied once more and as he connected his lips to yours once again, you realised Joaquin Torres was definitely, most well and truly, under your skin.

#joaquin torres x reader #Joaquin Torres #joaquín torres #marvel #falcon #ask #enemies to lovers #angst #mcu #young avengers

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mandoalorian · 15 days ago

Text

trending for you [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader

Synopsis: Bucky’s appearance on The Late Late Show changes everything, with the truth coming to light and his feelings laid bare for the world to see. As the public forms their opinions, Bucky focuses on what matters most—his future with you. But with new dangers ahead, you must navigate a path filled with uncertainty and growing tensions.

Word Count: 7200

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content, employer x employee, male recieving oral, handjobs, sub!Bucky, you love taking care of your Congressman, man has a praise kink too, political discourse, canon-typical tensions and love confessions.

Masterlist

prev chapter <3 | congress & carnality masterlist

Bucky stood in the dimly lit warehouse, arms crossed over his chest as he listened to Sam pace back and forth. Joaquin Torres, the ever-eager and slightly starstruck Falcon, sat at the table between them, eyes darting between the two men as he took in everything they had just laid out. Coffee rings stained the table, thanks to Sam, and the three men’s eyes raked over the intel, piecing it all together one by one.

“So, let me get this straight,” Joaquin finally said, leaning forward. “Ross is only siding with Hydra because they’re blackmailing him with this… super soldier serum that prevents him from going full Red Hulk mode?”

“Bingo,” Sam muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “And if we can get him a different treatment, something that doesn’t make him their little puppet, then we cut off Hydra’s leverage.”

Joaquin whistled, shaking his head. “Man. I knew politics were shady, but this is some next-level villainy.”

Bucky huffed, still silent, his jaw tense. He was staring at the blueprint of their next steps, but his mind wasn’t all there. Not after everything that had happened, and revisiting it like that proved to be just as challenging. However, it was nothing he had never done before.

“You good, cyborg?” Joaquin teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You look like you’ve been through hell and back.”

Bucky finally exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Yeah. I have.” His voice was gravelly, exhausted, but there was a glint in his eye—determination. “But I’m still here.”

“Damn right you are,” Sam clapped him on the back, grounding him for a second. “And you’re about to go live on national television to expose this whole operation. You ready for that?”

Bucky rolled his shoulders, shrugging. “Yeah. I’ve done worse.”

Joaquin smirked. “Man, you really are old-school cool, huh? Just gonna stroll up in there like, ‘Hey America, guess what? There’s a secret underground Hydra operation happening under your noses and I’m gonna fix it.’”

Sam laughed at that. “That’s exactly what he’s gonna do.”

“Bold move,” Joaquin huffed, grinning.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, it gets bolder. We’re gonna need you to reach out to someone for us.”

Joaquin raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

Sam slid a tablet across the table. The screen displayed a series of medical reports, all linked to a certain Dr. Bruce Banner.

Joaquin let out a low whistle. “You want me to call the Hulk?”

“We don’t need the Hulk,” Bucky said, adjusting the cuffs of his black button-up shirt. “We need Banner’s brain.”

Sam tapped the screen. “Ross is taking some kind of suppressant to keep his Red Hulk side under control. If Banner can decode it, we might be able to cut Ross loose from HYDRA. No more blackmail, no more leverage.”

Silence settled for a moment. The weight of what they were about to do loomed heavy in the air.

Joaquin exhaled, then clapped his hands together. “Alright. Let’s do this. I’ll reach out to Banner, see if he can get us something to counteract Ross’s condition.”

“Good,” Sam nodded. “Meanwhile, Barnes here needs to get suited up for his big debut.”

Joaquin grinned at Bucky. “You gonna wear a tie?”

Bucky scoffed. “I’ll wear a goddamn suit. That’s enough.”

Sam chuckled. “Man, you really don’t do this whole media thing, do you?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t.”

Joaquin smirked. “Well, you’re about to go viral. Again.”

Bucky groaned, running a hand down his face. He didn’t really understand what it meant to be viral but it certainly didn’t sound good. Viral. Like a disease. “Great.”

Sam patted his shoulder, his expression shifting to something softer. “You got this, man. We’ll be watching.”

Bucky met his eyes, nodding once. He knew they had his back. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t doing this alone. He had you, Yelena, Sam, Joaquin, and maybe even Bruce Banner if Sam could make contact. And that was one hell of a team.

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The safehouse was quiet—too quiet. You sat curled up on the couch, one leg bouncing anxiously as you stared at the blank television screen, waiting for the Late Late Show to start.

Bucky didn’t leave until Yelena had arrived, and promised him she’d keep you safe. He was practically pushed out of the door, not wanting to leave your side. You offered a nervous smile to Yelena. She was beautiful, on the shorter side with ragged blonde hair and electric blue eyeliner. She looked unbelievably cool, and you briefly wondered how Bucky had become so close with someone like her. Yelena immediately made you feel safe and at ease, talking to you like she had known you forever. She said something like ‘if Bucky trusts you, then so do I’, and that was enough.

“Relax, котёнок,” Yelena’s voice drawled as she strolled into the room, arms full of snacks. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

You turned to her, blinking. “I— I’m just nervous.”

“For the show?” She plopped down next to you, dumping the snacks onto the coffee table. “Or for your boyfriend?”

Your face heated instantly. “He’s not my—”

Yelena snorted, cutting you off with a dramatic sigh. “Oh please, do not even start. You are so down bad for Barnes. It’s adorable.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” She nudged you with her elbow. “You love me because I bring snacks and wisdom.” She skillfully threw a sourpatch kid into her mouth, squirming at the taste when it landed on her tongue.

You peeked at the snacks—chips, candy, and two bottles of beer. You raised a brow. “Beer?”

She shrugged, popping one open. “Bucky is on TV. We drink.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. Yelena beamed, taking a swig before settling back against the couch.

“Okay, tell me,” she said, kicking her feet up. “How did this whole thing start? You and Barnes?”

You hesitated, chewing your lip. “I met him in Brooklyn… he helped me move into my apartment.”

Yelena’s brows lifted comically. “He helped you?”

You smiled a little. “Yeah. I was struggling, and he just showed up out of nowhere.”

Yelena smirked. “Classic Bucky. That man is helpless when it comes to a damsel in distress.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was not a damsel in distress.”

“Uh-huh. Sure, sure.” She waved a hand. “Go on.”

You sighed. “I thought he looked familiar. I asked him about it, and he just shrugged it off. He was so vague about everything—where he was from, what he did. It amused me.”

Yelena grinned. “Let me guess. You were charmed.”

You hesitated, but your small smile gave you away.

“I knew it.” Yelena cackled. “You’re so soft for him.”

You groaned again, sinking into the couch. “Can you not?”

She patted your knee. “Sorry, sorry. Please continue. I love a good love story.”

You huffed. “The next day, I went to an interview for a job… and he was the one hiring.”

Yelena’s mouth fell open. “Shut up.”

You grinned. “Nope.”

“That’s so corny,” she said, laughing. “Like a rom-com.”

“I know.” You exhaled, shaking your head. “It just… happened. One thing led to another.”

“And now you’re in love with him.”

Your breath hitched. You opened your mouth, but Yelena just gave you a knowing look.

“Admit it,” she teased, wiggling her brows. “Say it out loud.”

You swallowed. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought it. You had felt it for a long time. But saying it out loud…

Your voice was quiet. “I love him.”

Yelena smiled. “Yeah. I know. I have sixth sense for these things,” she said proudly, examining a Twizzler between her fingers.

A comfortable silence settled. You anxiously bit at your nails as you watched the commercials on TV. The interview would be starting any minute now.

“I’m scared, though,” you admitted. “I’m scared of what’s going to happen after tonight. What if—”

“Hey,” Yelena cut you off, her voice softer now. “Barnes will be fine. He’s got Sam, Joaquin, he’s got me, and most importantly—he’s got you.”

You exhaled slowly, nodding.

“Besides,” Yelena smirked. “I need to see how this romance plays out. I’m invested now.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” She took another sip of beer before tilting her head. “You know, I actually met Bucky in a very similar way.”

That caught your attention. “Wait, really?”

Yelena smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Mhm. Back when I was still running around, doing my Black Widow thing, I was sent after him once. Some HYDRA remnants put a hit on him.”

Your stomach twisted. “A hit?”

She waved a hand. “Pfft. Nothing serious. They wanted me to take care of it because I was the best.” She shot you a cocky grin. “Obviously.”

You blinked. “Wait—so they sent you to kill Bucky?”

“Technically.” She eventually took a bite of the Twizzler. “But I was mostly just curious. Everyone said he was the most dangerous assassin ever. So I found him, tracked him down, and tried to fight him.”

Your jaw dropped. “Tried?”

Yelena snorted. “Tried. He won, obviously. But I got a few good hits in.”

You stared at her. “You fought Bucky?”

“Mhm.” She grinned. “And when he realized I wasn’t actually trying to kill him, he took me out for a drink instead.”

Your eyes widened. “He what?”

She nodded. “Yup. Sat me down at some dingy little bar and bought me a beer.” She shrugged. “I guess we bonded over being screwed over by the people who raised us.”

You exhaled. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Yelena smiled. “He’s a good guy. You know that, right?”

Your chest tightened. “I do.”

“Good.” She nudged you. “Because he really likes you, too.”

A small, shy smile tugged at your lips.

“Now,” Yelena clapped her hands together. “Shut up. The show is starting.”

Both of you turned to the screen, your heart pounding as the Late Late Show’s theme music began.

Bucky was about to go live.

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The Late Late Show theme music blared through the speakers as the camera panned across the roaring crowd. Bright lights flashed, illuminating the sleek, modern set where Jimmy Coors, the ever-charismatic host, stood in his navy pinstripe suit, grinning at the camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jimmy said, spreading his arms wide. “Tonight, we have a very special guest. You know him. You love him. Some of you are terrified of him.” A playful chuckle rippled through the audience. “He’s a war hero, a former Avenger, and the most talked-about man in America right now—please welcome Congressman James Buchanan Barnes!”

The crowd erupted. Cheers, whistles, and excited applause filled the room as Bucky strode onto the stage.

You sucked in a breath.

Seeing him on the screen, looking so composed, was surreal.

Bucky wore a sharp, all-black suit, tailored perfectly to his frame. His dark hair was neatly combed back, but a few strands still fell stubbornly over his forehead. His beard was trimmed, and his blue eyes were piercing, even through the screen. He looked so handsome — so Hollywood.

Yelena let out a low whistle. “Damn. No wonder you’re in love with him.”

You shoved her shoulder, but your eyes never left the screen.

Bucky shook Jimmy’s hand before settling into the plush armchair across from him. Despite his usual brooding nature, there was a quiet confidence in his posture.

“So,” Jimmy said, leaning forward with an easy grin. “You’ve been off the grid for a few days now.”

Bucky smirked slightly. “Yeah, needed a break from all the conspiracy theories.”

The crowd laughed.

Jimmy chuckled. “Well, let’s address the elephant in the room, then. You’ve been vocal about your suspicions regarding HYDRA’s resurgence. And now, suddenly, you disappear for almost a week? A lot of people have been speculating about what happened.” He tapped the desk. “Care to clear things up?”

Bucky exhaled. His fingers drummed against his knee—a nervous tick. You recognized it instantly.

Then, he lifted his gaze. “I was attacked.”

The audience fell silent.

Jimmy blinked. “Attacked?” Jimmy glanced over to the cameras, and then the producers, and then back to Bucky.

Bucky nodded, his expression hardening. “HYDRA is not just a ghost from the past. They’re still out there. And they don’t just operate in the shadows anymore. They are inside our government, inside our military, inside everything.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Jimmy’s brows furrowed. “That’s… a bold accusation.”

Bucky tilted his head. “It’s the truth.”

The studio fell dead quiet.

Jimmy hesitated before nodding. “And you have proof?”

Bucky reached into his jacket, pulling out a small USB drive. He placed it on the desk between them.

“This,” Bucky said, voice firm, “contains classified documents, video footage, and intelligence reports—evidence that proves HYDRA is still alive and operating under the protection of certain high-ranking officials. Including President Thaddeus Ross.”

Gasps rang out.

You gripped the couch cushion so hard your knuckles ached.

Jimmy, for once, looked stunned. He picked up the USB drive, turning it over between his fingers. “And you’re showing this now, live on television?”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Figured it’d be harder for them to cover it up this way.”

The audience cheered.

Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I have never seen a politician with balls this big.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and even Bucky cracked a small grin.

Then, Jimmy leaned in. “But listen, Bucky, I gotta ask…” He waved a hand at the screen behind them, where footage from news reports played—clips of Bucky pulling you from the facility, carrying you in his arms, his face twisted with raw desperation.

Your stomach flipped.

Jimmy’s voice softened. “There’s been a lot of speculation about the woman in these videos. You saved her, but no one knows who she is. Some reports claim she’s just your assistant. Some say she’s an informant. Some think she’s a political pawn.” He paused. “But that look on your face?” He pointed at the screen. “That doesn’t look like politics. That looks personal.”

Your breath caught.

Yelena leaned in, eyes wide. “Oh, this is about to get good.”

Bucky’s expression shifted.

The audience hushed.

For the first time since the interview started, he looked almost vulnerable. His fingers flexed against his knee, and he exhaled slowly.

Then, he spoke.

“She’s not my informant,” Bucky said quietly.

Jimmy waited.

“She’s not a political pawn.”

Bucky lifted his head, eyes burning with intensity.

“She’s the woman I love.”

The room exploded.

The audience lost it—cheers, screams, whistles.

Yelena smacked your leg. “Holy shit!”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Jimmy, laughing, threw his hands up. “There it is! I knew it!” He grinned, looking out at the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a romance!”

Bucky huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head.

Jimmy turned back to him. “No, but seriously—tell me about her.”

Bucky hesitated, as if he didn’t know how to put it into words. Then, he simply said—

“She’s everything.”

You swore your heart stopped.

The crowd awed.

Yelena groaned, clutching her chest dramatically. “Ugh. You’re so lucky. Where do I get one?”

Your eyes burned. You covered your mouth, overwhelmed.

Jimmy shook his head, grinning. “Well, you do realize you just sent the internet into a meltdown, right?”

Bucky smirked slightly. “Yeah, I figured.”

Jimmy sighed. “Man, I gotta say… between this and your little crusade against HYDRA, you might as well run for president.”

The crowd cheered again.

Bucky blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jimmy laughed. “No, I’m serious! People love you! You stand up for what’s right, you’re taking down corrupt politicians, you fight for the little guy—and now you’re out here confessing your love like some tragic war hero? You’re America’s golden boy!”

More applause.

Bucky looked bewildered.

You were, too.

Yelena? She just grinned, shaking her head. “Oh, he’s so screwed.”

Jimmy turned back to the camera. “Folks, give it up for Congressman James Buchanan Barnes!”

The audience roared as the camera panned out.

And as the Late Late Show cut to commercial, you let out a shaky breath—because everything had just changed.

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The Late Late Show was a whirlwind, a huge success, and yet, despite the triumph, Bucky felt that gnawing unease in his gut. The world was starting to notice him, sure, but he knew his fight wasn’t over. There was still so much at stake—HYDRA, Ross, and the promises he’d made.

Now, in a sleek, high-rise building on the outskirts of Washington, Bucky stood in front of President Thaddeus Ross, who, despite his imposing figure, looked somehow smaller in the private, dimly lit room. The tall windows framed the night sky, casting long shadows over the two men.

Sam and Joaquin stood nearby, their postures relaxed but tense—watchful, just in case things went south.

Ross was sitting at a large desk, hands clasped together in front of him, his face hard. His normally strict demeanor had softened just a touch, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes as Bucky approached.

“You’ve got guts,” Ross said, his voice low and gravelly. “I’ll give you that.”

Bucky didn’t sit. He wasn’t here for small talk. “I’m here to make sure you understand something,” he said, his tone even but laced with warning. “You stay the hell away from HYDRA. I’m done watching you play the puppet. You’re gonna stop working with them, and if you want to live—if you want to stop your gamma problem from getting worse—I’ll help you. But only if you cut all ties.”

Ross’ jaw tightened. He sat back in his chair. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“No,” Bucky said, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t. You’ve been a pawn for too long, but there’s still a chance for you to do the right thing. You need help, Ross. I know a few people who can help.”

Ross leaned forward, voice shaking with anger and desperation. “HYDRA won’t let me go so easily. They’ve got eyes on me. They’ve been threatening me for years, and this… this is my life now. You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything with some easy solution?”

“I didn’t say it’d be easy,” Bucky replied, his voice colder than before. “But it’s the only way to get you out from under their thumb. You don’t have to be their puppet anymore. And if you want to get control of your condition, I can help you—Bruce Banner can help you decode the anti-red Hulk pills. The cure is out there, Ross, and you don’t have to keep hiding behind their lies.”

Ross stood up suddenly, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think I want this? You think I want to be stuck in this?” He let out a harsh laugh, bitterness spilling from his words. “I’m stuck. Stuck in this cycle of trying to control something I can’t. And HYDRA? They hold the leash. They made sure of that.”

Bucky stepped closer, a grim resolve in his eyes. “I know you’re a victim here, Ross. I know that better than anyone. But you don’t have to let them win. You can fight back. You can get out. We can do this together. But only if you stop playing their game.”

Ross met his eyes. For a moment, the anger in his gaze softened, replaced by something more human—vulnerability, regret, fear. He finally exhaled sharply.

“Do you have any idea how much this will cost me?” Ross asked, voice quieter now. “HYDRA won’t let me walk away without consequences. They have control of so much—my research, my career, my life. If I betray them, they’ll make sure I don’t live to regret it.”

“Then don’t betray them. Just stop working for them.” Bucky’s voice was firm, unyielding. “If you don’t, I’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. No more hiding behind the government or the press. You can start making your own choices, Ross. This is your last chance to do something right.”

Ross stared at him for a long time, and in that moment, Bucky saw it—the small crack in the wall Ross had built around himself. Maybe he wasn’t the villain after all.

Finally, Ross spoke, his voice a low rasp. “I can’t promise it’ll be easy. But I’ll try. I’ll try to get out. For you.”

“No Ross, for you,” Bucky said, his tone softer now. “You’re the Goddman President, you do this for you and the people of America. And when it’s over, you owe them an apology,” Ross swallowed. “We’ll help you get the medication, the real treatment you need. You don’t have to keep going down this path.”

As the two men exchanged one last look, Sam stepped forward, a silent acknowledgment passing between him and Ross. “We’ll be in touch,” Sam said quietly.

With that, Bucky turned, walking towards the door. Joaquin followed closely behind, glancing at Ross one last time.

Before they left the room, Bucky turned to look over his shoulder. “And Ross? Don’t make me regret this.”

Ross gave a stiff nod, and Bucky and the team stepped out of the room, the weight of what was to come settling on their shoulders.

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Back at the safehouse, Yelena had made herself right at home. She’d already raided the fridge for snacks, pulling out a bag of chips, some cheese, and a bottle of soda as she plopped down beside you on the couch.

“So,” Yelena started, winking at you, “how down bad are you for him?”

You choked on your soda, turning to look at her. “What?”

Yelena shrugged innocently, though her grin was anything but. “What? Don’t look at me like I don’t see the way you look at him. The way you always look at him.”

You felt your face flush. “I… It’s not like that.”

“Oh, it’s definitely like that,” Yelena teased, munching on a Cheez-It. “You’re just lucky he’s head over heels for you too. Can’t imagine what it’s like to have that level of devotion.”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch, feeling both embarrassed and warm inside. “I don’t even know how it happened. But it did. And now I…” You trailed off, your voice quieter. “I just want to be there for him. All of this—this war against HYDRA—it feels like it’s mine too. I want to help.”

Yelena’s teasing expression softened slightly, but she didn’t lose her mischievous glint. “You want to help?”

You nodded, looking at her. “I need to learn how to fight. I don’t want to be the person sitting on the sidelines while Bucky risks his life every day. This is our fight now, not just his.”

Yelena studied you for a long moment. Then, she smiled widely. “Alright. I’ll train you. Since you asked so nicely. But just so you know… It’s not gonna be pretty. You might end up on the floor a lot.”

“I literally did not ask you to train me.” You scoffed.

“You didn’t have to,” Yelena winked, bouncing up and stretching her arms. “It makes sense. You want the best in the business to train you. And that would be me. The best,” She thrusted her thumb into her chest. “So I’ll do it. Out of the goodness of my own heart. Because I am good. Sometimes. Most of the time. Hey, do you have any more Cheez-Its?”

“You’re something else Yelena,” you laughed. “But maybe we keep this between you and I? Bucky would just worry.”

“Yeah yeah,” she said with a wink. “Let’s start in the morning.”

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The limo’s leather seats creaked slightly as Bucky and Sam sat in silence, the only noise coming from the faint hum of the city as they drove toward the safehouse. The flashing lights of the streets outside felt distant, like the world was a little bit quieter now that the chaos of the day was behind them. Bucky was leaning against the window, his gaze lost somewhere in the dark night, while Sam sat across from him, his arms folded, his brow furrowed in thought.

Sam glanced at Bucky, noticing how quiet he had been since the press conference. It wasn’t like him to withdraw like this, even after everything that had happened. Sam could tell something was weighing on him.

“What’s up, man?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. “You’ve been out of it.”

Bucky’s gaze shifted slightly, but he didn’t look fully at Sam, his eyes still distant. “Just... thinking.”

“Yeah?” Sam leaned forward a little. “Thinking about what?”

Bucky took a long breath, his fingers tapping absently on the armrest. “I miss him, man.”

Sam blinked, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in Bucky’s voice. “Steve?”

Bucky nodded, his voice quiet as he continued. “Coors called me America’s Golden Boy and I just… I don’t know. I guess I thought about him. I know it’s been years, but it still feels... wrong. I should’ve been there. He was always there for me, and now... he’s not. I can’t help but feel like I let him down.”

Sam softened, understanding what Bucky was feeling. He had seen how much Steve had meant to him, how deeply their bond went, even after all the pain and time that had passed. “You didn’t let him down, Buck,” Sam said gently. “You did what you could. It’s not your fault that things went the way they did.”

Bucky looked out the window again, his expression unreadable. “I keep wondering if he’d be proud of me now. He always believed in me, but I don’t know if I believe in myself.”

Sam gave him a look, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “Bucky, man... you don’t have to be Steve. You’re not meant to be Steve. You’re your own person. What you’ve done, what you’re doing now—it’s bigger than anything we ever thought possible. And Steve would be damn proud of you. You’re not the guy you were when you were under HYDRA’s control. You’re a different man now.”

Bucky let out a breath, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know, Sam. Sometimes I feel like I’m still that same guy in a way. Like I’m still fighting the same battles, just in a different place.”

Sam shook his head, a smile forming on his lips as he leaned forward slightly. “You’ve fought more than your share of battles, Bucky. You’ve earned this. Steve would tell you the same thing. Hell, if he was here, he’d be giving you one of those damn pep talks he was so good at.”

Bucky chuckled softly, the sound just a bit shaky. “Yeah, he probably would.”

Sam leaned back in his seat, his voice growing softer. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone anymore. You’ve done the work. You’re your own person now, Buck. You’ve got your team here with you. We’ve got your back. Always.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to Sam, his gratitude evident. “Thanks, Sam. For always being here.”

Sam gave him a nod, a warm smile on his face. “That’s what brothers are for.”

They both sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling between them but also bringing a sense of calm. Bucky let the words sink in, allowing himself to feel a little lighter, a little more at peace with where he was. He wasn’t the man Steve had been, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still carry on in his own way.

Eventually, Bucky broke the silence again, his voice low but with a hint of a smile. “I hope he’s watching... wherever he is.”

Sam grinned. “Oh, he’s definitely watching. And probably yelling at you to get your act together.”

Bucky laughed, a genuine sound that warmed the space between them. “Yeah, probably.”

The limo continued its journey through the quiet streets, but for the first time in a while, Bucky felt like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to find his own way—one step at a time.

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The door clicked open softly as Bucky stepped into the safehouse, his posture relaxed but his eyes still holding the weight of the day. He was tired, but the overwhelming feeling of relief flooded him as he stepped inside. The familiar warmth of the space greeted him, and the quiet atmosphere felt like a breath of fresh air after the storm of the last few days.

Yelena was already lounging on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, a bag of chips in one hand. As soon as she saw Bucky walk in, she grinned and gave him a thumbs up, the phone in her other hand still glued to her face.

“You’re trending, big guy,” she announced, her voice filled with a playful edge. “You’ve got the internet wrapped around your finger. Everyone loves you.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. “What are you talking about?”

Yelena turned the phone toward him, showing him the glowing screen. The latest trending hashtags flashed across the screen, including #BuckyForPresident and #BuckyBarnesIsOurHero. The comments were pouring in, from people calling him a hero to those who were moved by his bravery during the interview.

“I think the world is in love with you, Bucky,” Yelena teased, looking up at him with a grin. “You’re making waves, for real.”

Bucky stood there for a moment, processing the words, the notifications flooding the screen. His chest tightened, but in a way that was soft, almost emotional. It was overwhelming—more than anything, it was humbling. But it wasn’t the kind of recognition he had ever sought. He had done all of this for the right reasons, to protect those he loved, and to stop HYDRA once and for all. But seeing the world, his world, reacting this way—it felt different. Like he was finally seen for who he really was.

“Guess I didn’t expect this,” Bucky said, his voice low as he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think people would actually... care about me this way.”

Yelena snorted, her smile widening. “Oh, please. The world’s been waiting for you to come out of hiding. They just needed someone to stand up, and you did. And you did it with style.” She pointed to the screen again, where a fan account had posted a fan art of Bucky holding the world on his shoulders with the words #OurHero written across it. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’re hot.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t do this for the attention, Yelena.”

“I know, I know,” she replied, tossing a chip in her mouth, still amused. “But hey, you got it. And they’re loving it. You’re not the only one trending. Look who else is,” she added, scrolling to another post.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly as Yelena showed him a comment from you. “I’ve always known he was a good man. I’m so proud of him. #MyBucky.”

Bucky swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. His chest swelled with affection for you, mixed with a tenderness he hadn’t expected. His voice softened as he spoke. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Yelena shot him a knowing look, the playful teasing fading for a moment. “She is. You’re lucky, Bucky. Don’t mess it up.”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “I know.” His heart thudded heavily in his chest. “I don’t think I could. I... I’ve never been sure of anything more in my life.”

Yelena’s eyes softened, her usual teasing tone replaced by something warmer. “I’m glad you’re figuring it out. You deserve some happiness.”

The words sat with Bucky for a moment, before he nodded again. He had come so far. He had spent years fighting his own demons, trying to prove he could be good, and now, with you by his side, it felt like everything had finally aligned.

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice quiet, filled with longing.

Yelena smiled knowingly and pointed toward the hallway. “She’s in the bedroom, waiting for you. She’s been so anxious, watching the interview, wondering how it went. But...” Yelena’s voice lowered with a teasing edge again. “You know, she might be more nervous about the kiss you gave the world than anything else.”

Bucky chuckled, his heart pounding in his chest at the thought of you waiting for him. “I don’t know what came over me,” he said quietly, shaking his head as he walked toward the bedroom. “I just had to say it. Had to make it clear.”

“You did good,” Yelena called after him, her voice light and playful. “She’s definitely gonna love hearing that.”

Bucky stepped into the bedroom, his eyes finding you almost instantly. You were sitting up on the bed, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating your face, your eyes flickering with uncertainty as you watched him approach. The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t the kind of tension that felt forced or strained. It was the kind of nervous energy that only comes when two people who’ve been through so much finally come together, knowing there’s something real between them.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, his voice low and filled with affection as he leaned against the doorframe.

You looked up at him, your face lighting up with a soft smile, but there was a nervousness behind your gaze. “So... how’d it go?” Your voice was a little shaky, but there was so much pride in it, too.

Bucky’s gaze softened as he walked toward you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. “It went... better than I could’ve imagined,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I made it clear, I think.”

He paused for a moment, studying your face, seeing the way your eyes glistened with emotion. He felt that familiar pull toward you, like he couldn’t be away from you for even a second longer.

You bit your lip, your heart thumping in your chest as you asked, “What you said on the show… Bucky… I couldn’t believe it.”

“I said...” Bucky’s voice caught in his throat for a moment, before he continued, “What I said was the truth.” He let out a breath, his words raw, vulnerable. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes, and without thinking, you reached up, pulling him toward you. “You’re really going to make me cry, huh?”

Bucky chuckled softly, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “I’m just telling the truth.”

You pulled him down into a kiss, a slow, tender kiss that was full of everything unspoken between you. It wasn’t just passion. It was the love that had been building between you two since the moment you met. It was everything.

As you kissed, you pulled him down onto the bed with you, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. When you pulled away, you looked up at him with a smile.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “Was it okay?” he asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. His blue eyes searched yours, looking for reassurance. “Did I do okay?”

Without answering, you leaned in, kissing his lips again—this time, with a new urgency. Slowly, you kissed down his neck, your lips moving along his skin, igniting the sparks between you. You could feel him tense, his breathing shallow, and it only made you smile more.

You cupped his face and pulled yourself on top of him, straddling his suit clad lap. You started tugging at his tie, slowly undoing it before discarding it haphazardly. You began unbuttoning his shirt but as your fingers fumbled, Bucky helped, popping each button off in one swift motion. The shirt, along the rest of his clothes, formed a pile on the floor by the bed.

"Let me take care of you," you murmured against his lips, your hands sliding down his torso.

Bucky let out a breathless laugh, his grip on your hips tightening. "Sweetheart, I think you already are."

Your lips found his neck, tracing the strong column of his throat. He shuddered when your teeth grazed his skin, his fingers flexing against your waist.

"You looked so good on that stage," you teased, your voice hushed. "So confident, so strong. And the way you spoke about me—" You kissed down his jaw. "You have no idea what that did to me."

"You drive me insane, you know that?" Bucky rasped, tilting his head back as you pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his pulse point.

You grinned against his skin. "Good."

Bucky’s breath came heavier as your fingers traced the hard planes of his stomach. His muscles twitched under your touch. His skin was warm, littered with scars and stories you had yet to hear in full. But right now, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t a politician or a man burdened by the past. He was just Bucky. Your Bucky.

And he was looking at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

"You're staring," you murmured, hands splaying over his chest.

Bucky swallowed thickly, his fingers brushing up your sides. "I still can't believe you're real."

You smiled, brushing your lips over his, teasing, light. "Then maybe I should remind you."

You kissed him again—deeper this time, slow and teasing, tasting him, drinking him in. His hands were everywhere, skimming over your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

"You take such good care of me," he murmured, trailing kisses down your jaw, along the column of your throat. His hands roamed, reverent and careful, as if memorizing every inch of you. "Let me take care of you, too."

His lips found the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and a soft sigh escaped your lips.

"You already do," you breathed.

Bucky’s eyes darkened. "Not enough."

His metal fingers dragged along your skin, cool against your warmth, as he worshipped you with his mouth, his touch, his everything.

“Bucky…” you moaned, closing your eyes as a wave of pleasure washed over you. “You’re too good, let me—“ your hands found his manhood, already hard and pressing against his boxers. You gave it a squeeze and Bucky tensed up, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and biting at the skin. You placed your free hand in his hair, tugging at it and running your fingers through it, and with your other hand, you pulled down his shorts letting his cock spring free.

A string of curses left Bucky’s mouth as you pumped him, your eyes not leaving his. They were so beautiful; ocean blue with very small traces of teal, and his pupils were blown dark and wide with lust. You felt your insides coil with the intensity of the eye contact. “You like that, pretty boy?” You coaxed, your voice laced with feigned innocence.

Bucky swallowed, nodding his head speechless.

“Nuh-uh, use your words baby.” You rolled your finger over his tip, gathering the precum on the digit. You brought it up to his lips. “Tell me.”

“I like it— don’t stop— please,” Bucky choked out. When his lips parted, you gently pushed your finger in his mouth.

Bucky sucked on your finger and pulled off with a pop, cleaning up his mess. You flashed him a wild smile. “Good boy,” you praised, feeling Bucky twitch in your hand with the words. “You’re my favourite taste.”

You kneeled down, lying on your front and crawled between his legs, starting by licking a line up the curve of the Congressman’s cock.

“You’re teasing,” he mumbled, his head falling back as you sucked on his head, gathering his salty precum on your tongue, revelling in the way a groan vibrated through his chest. “I won’t last.” He warned, his metal hand grabbing you by your hair.

“That’s okay,” you giggled. “I can take my time with this some more if you like?”

You cupped his balls and without warning, pushed yourself down his whole length, choking around his size. You blinked away the tears that stung at your eyes as his cock hit the back of your throat.

“I want— fuck— I can’t—“

You pulled off him and looked up with wide doe eyes. “What?”

“I wanna— ngnhh—,” Bucky gasped as you took him again, messy, wet slurping sounds filled your makeshift bedroom. ‘Wanna fuck you.” He gasped out.

“Fuck my mouth then,” you offered breathlessly. “Told you Bucky, tonight I just wanna look after you.”

Bucky looked at you, concern lilting in his wide eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt you baby, don’t wanna be too rough.”

“Shut up and fuck my mouth,” you sighed impatiently, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

“Oh, now who’s being bratty,” Bucky exhaled, shaking his head with a small chuckle. With both of his hands, he placed them on the back of your skull, holding your head in place. Bucky thrusted into your mouth without warning. Immediately you gagged around him, his manhood taking your breath away. You splayed your hands out against his hips as he fucked you like you was his toy, his doll.

He didn’t last long, to no surprise to either of you. Without warning, Bucky spilled his load into your mouth, painting your tongue and the back of your throat. You were totally and completely obsessed with him, the taste of him and every single inch of him. You were so deeply and madly in love with your boss and now, you didn’t care if the whole world knew. You swallowed his cum with a big gulp and flashed him your tongue to prove that you’d done so.

Bucky leaned over and pressed his pink lips to yours, bringing his hands up to your breasts and giving them a tender squeeze. “My girl, my girl, my girl…” he whispered, licking a stripe over your lower lip. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too Bucky.”

And as you both surrendered to each other once again, the world outside faded away. All that mattered was the love you had found, the love that was growing stronger by the day.

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#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #mcu #marvel #smut #james buchanan barnes #angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #congressman bucky #avengers #thunderbolts #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #james bucky barnes #Yelena Belova #joaquin torres #sam wilson #captain america

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dameronspector · 8 days ago

Text

Philophobia

(PART 1)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Stark!Reader

Summary: Devastated by your father’s death and cutting yourself off from everyone, you are on the road of recovery, accompanied by your uncle Rhodey. After Rhodey has finally convinced you, you agree to reunite with Sam Wilson and help him with his tech. He introduces you to another techie nerd, named Joaquin Torres, for the first time. Will you let your phobia get in the way and push away your new found family and this beautiful boy? Or will you get better and let yourself be loved once again?

Warnings: Mentions of Death and Depression/Depressive episodes, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Abuse by a parent (not Tony), Weight loss due to stress, Nightmares, Some cursing, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Rogers Slander- please don’t read this if that’s not something you’re looking for, Reader is sassy and a bit reserved because of The incident and because they’re a Stark, Reader has some phobias, Found family, also there’s a few references and hidden plots in this. 😁 (please keep in mind that I wrote this from my point of view as a south asian.)

Author’s note: I probably went overboard and this is very long + very self indulgent….but tony stark is the father who raised me and joaquin torres is my boyfriend so i Had to do this. ☺️ also lots of found family content with Rhodey, Sam and Bucky. Set around the time of TFATWS. Please let me know if there’s any changes to be made if I have written anything wrong.

Moving back to New York was extremely hard and painful for you ever since your dad passed away. That was the city that you were born and raised in and it had the ghosts of your father’s and family’s moments everywhere. But you told Pepper that you couldn’t handle living in that cabin anymore because 1. you were going stir crazy since you loved the hustle bustle of a city and 2. the depressive episodes were more frequent than ever.

You’d think living in your family cabin that has your father’s memories written across every wall would help you…but you’re a Stark. Ignoring your own problems and running away from emotions is kind of your specialty. Hereditary, even.

Pepper, bless her heart, told you that she’s happy you are trying to get back your life back on track and that she would always be there for you. Even if you called her Pepper, she’s always been your Mother.

Hardest part of it all was saying goodbye to Morgan. Little Morgan who was so attached to you and vice versa. She was too young to even process her father’s death, how was she supposed to understand why her elder sibling was never leaving their room? And now that same sibling was going too far away from their house. It took Pepper, Happy and you to console Morgan and she was finally ready to send you off–only with a (pinky) promise of visiting her during holidays.

Rhodey and Happy helped you settle in your newest house- a penthouse in manhattan that your dad left behind for you. That was 3 months ago. Now, fully settled in your new space, you’ve decided to restart college to finish your degree that was put on pause because of a giant purple psycho. You had decided you will stop the whole Avenger shit the moment you lost your dad. You needed to leave that life behind in order to move on, and what better than being filthy educated and eventually finding a normal job?

Well, let’s just say it didn’t go as planned.

I mean, really, were you expecting to just magically heal from the most traumatic time of your life in three months, with no therapy or contact from your family and friends?

Panic attacks are like your best friends. The other day you had a panic attack because you found a scarf that was gifted to you by your dad. Embarrassing, really.

Nightmares are something you have been walking hand-in-hand with since your dad was kidnapped and you were just a little kid. But now, every night you close your eyes and you see your father’s lifeless eyes staring back into yours.So it’s not surprising that you have become insomniac as well.

Overall, you were continuing the Stark legacy of being severely mentally ill but not doing anything to help it or accepting any help. The only difference was that you chose NOT to drink until you blacked out because after watching your dad do that as a kid, you developed a strong distaste for any type of alcohol. It was so bad, that you got diagnosed with dispophobia– a persistent fear of drinking alcohol. It’s real, look it up.

You chose the other option—pushing everyone around you away until you wallowed in your misery, loneliness and sorrows.

This behaviour of yours was constantly stressing Pepper, Rhodey and Happy out. All three of them did their best to help you and make you socialise, but everytime they approached, you either ignored their calls and messages or told them you were busy (by busy you meant that you were tinkering on your father’s old suits that you moved to your apartment, but you didn’t tell them that.)

Even FRIDAY tried giving them updates on your well-being but you had threatened the AI to not “leak” any of your “information”. This was giving the three of them a major déjà vu. Eventually, they had enough and Rhodey came to your house one day because he knew he’s the only one who can call out your shit. He kinda had a Phd in tackling the Stark family’s issues.

“Look kid, it’s been 3 months. You haven’t bothered to call or text any of us. We didn’t even know if you were alive since you have banned FRIDAY from reporting anything to us as well. Can you please spend one evening with us for a dinner? Hell, if not all of us,then atleast meet up with Morgan?”, Rhodey said firmly with his eyebrows furrowed and arms folded tightly around his chest, leaning on your kitchen island.

You were making your dinner when he decided to come over. Trying your best to be nonchalant, you kept stirring the soup with your back to him, and scoffed, “You sound exactly like dad sometimes.”

Rhodey closed his eyes in frustration. “That’s not important right now. You’re doing the same thing that Tony did when he was feeling all these… emotions. Please, stop this kiddo. You’ve got all of us. Always. Just reach out once and we’ll be there to catch you”, he replied in a soft tone.

You took a deep breath and he saw your shoulders go up and down. You stopped stirring the soup, turned the gas off and turned around to face him.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, making yourself smaller, and intently focused on your shoes to avoid meeting his eyes.

“There’s nothing to ask. I’ve already told you I will be starting college soon. I’ll keep myself productive and occupied. It’ll be alright, don’t worry about me”, you say, your voice scratchy after not using it for a long time.

Rhodey observed you with his sharp gaze. You knew you were screwed the moment you saw Rhodey at the door because he could read you like a book. Honestly, it was extremely intimidating but you will never admit that to his face. He’s been around for your whole life- right from your birth. He knew you like you were his own child.

“FRIDAY, activate babysitter protocol”, he said, his voice stern.

You snapped your gaze up from your shoes to stare at him in confusion.

“On it Mr. Rhodes”, FRIDAY replied.

“What the hell is this?”, you replied narrowing your eyes at him.

“I know you blocked FRIDAY from telling us anything about you. Did you know Tony had an emergency protocol built in so that if there’s anything that went wrong while you were alone, FRIDAY would update him?”, Rhodey replied nonchalantly.

You widened your eyes and immediately teared up on hearing how protective your dad was over you. You were too tired to fight back so you just shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around your body tighter.

“FRIDAY, give me a proper run down of the kid’s activities and schedule in this past month. Including their health”, Rhodey asked the AI while observing you closely.

“OK sir. In this month, they have stepped out of the house only once for buying groceries. The rest of the month they’ve been at home, fixing Mr Stark’s suits”, FRIDAY finished.

At this, Rhodey’s eyes widened. “Tony’s suits? How did you even get these suits?” “They sneaked in the suits 2 months ago, Sir”, Rhodey’s eyes snapped back to yours. 2 months ago- right after you moved in. The suits were at the new compound and they were heavily guarded.

They should’ve known better because did they really expect you, a genius like your father, to not figure out how to hack the systems? It was a cakewalk for you.

You scrunched your eyes in shame and bowed your head. “Kid….”, he sighed.

“Tell me about their health, FRI”, Rhodey asked in a pained voice.

“They’ve had panic attacks almost every week. I suggested taking medication or visiting the therapist, but my requests were ignored. I’ve also observed a spike in their heartbeat everytime a loud noise is heard. They have nightmares regularly due to which they have stopped sleeping altogether. All the stress has made them lose weight, their appetite has lessened and has made them more irritable and unpredictable”, FRIDAY finished (snitched, you think).

Hearing it from someone else made it sound so much worse. You couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down your face.

You were too busy keeping the sobs from coming out of your mouth to notice Rhodey coming closer and wrapping his arms around you. He brought you closer and hugged you tightly and that completely broke you.

You leaned your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso and just sobbed. Rhodey hushed you gently and rubbed your back softly with one of his hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t deal with this, Uncle. Please. I need him back”, you said in between sobs while clutching him tightly and pressing your face into his chest. Rhodey teared up at this and put one of his hands behind your head.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out. I’m so sorry I didn’t visit you sooner. I know what you’re feeling. But I’ve got you now. Please allow me to help you?”, he said weakly.

You let out a shuddering breath and tried to calm yourself down. “Okay. ”, you replied in a weak voice. Rhodey broke the hug before putting his hands on your shoulders and let you wipe your tears. He caressed your head and told you, “We’re gonna get you something to eat first. From tomorrow, we will work on your routine and talk to your therapist about your insomnia and panic attacks. And then, you will be taking lots of rest. No more tinkering on the suits endlessly or skipping meals. We will go on walks and you will have a dinner with us at the cabin soon. That okay?”, he asked gently. You looked up at him and nodded your head yes. “Good. Now, you sit your ass down and Rest. Let me prepare your dinner”, he says while moving around you to get to the stove. “Do you even know how to turn on the stove?”, you say in a stuffy voice while wiping your nose with your sleeve and side eyeing him. He abruptly pauses and turns around. “You’re such a little shit, you know that?”, he says sassily while pointing a finger at you. That brings out a genuine smile from you and you just chuckle before he starts laughing as well. Your smile fades slowly. “Thank you. This means a lot to me,” you reply softly. Both of your eyes start tearing up and he just nods his head before giving you a side hug. “Anything for my favourite Stark”, he says in a shaky voice.

2 Months Later

You and Rhodey fell into a rhythm after that night. He stayed with you for some days and got you checked with your therapist and helped you around the house. He took you out for jogs every morning, made you work out and exercise every day. This made you feel productive and gave you a routine to follow. It also improved your appetite and you started to genuinely enjoy making healthy and filling meals.

You stopped unnecessarily tinkering on the suits and the medicines prescribed by your doctor helped you sleep better. You still had a long way to go but you had finally started stepping out of the house and went to a dinner at the cabin. Happy, Pepper and Morgan were so delighted to see you and they told you how proud they are of you. You just gave all the credit to your uncle Rhodey.

Rhodey had become a major figure in your life lately. He’d always been there for you and your dad but now he was like a teacher and mentor to you. All thanks to him, you could get your life back on track. And he was happy to help you anyways because you were like his own child.

But he’d started to take you to various social events lately and you HATED that. You were always a shy and socially anxious kid (a complete opposite of your father.) So the thought of attending social events where so many people and cameras were present…that was enough to send you into an early grave.

“Rhodey….for the last time. I’m not going with you. What am I even gonna do there? Sit and yawn while all you military and political people make speeches? No thanks”, you said breathlessly and jogged a little ahead of him.

He joined you immediately, huffing and puffing, “First of all.” Huff. “Slow DOWN. Jesus Christ.” Huff. And he stopped while putting his hands on his knees.

“Keep up, lazy! We gotta keep THE War Machine kicking and alive, come on!”, you say while jogging backwards and smiling at him.

When you saw that he was not going to join you, you stopped and jogged over to him. “Lazy, my ass. I’m 60 years old, you little shit”, he said while looking up at you, eyes narrowed and hands still on his knees. Still huffing and puffing.

You chuckled and helped him stand up with your arm around his back and another arm holding his. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You wanna sit down? Might as well drink some water, I’m thirsty.”

He nods his head yes and both of you sit down on a nearby bench and take a breather. You’re quiet for sometime, soaking in the crisp morning air and looking at the water fountain in front of you when Rhodey speaks up.

“I know you hate these events. But, please come to this one. We have a reunion in order, anyways”, he says cheekily while looking at you with that big smile of his plastered on his face.

You turned your head to look at him and raised your eyebrow, “Reunion? With whom?”, you ask skeptically. “Please don’t say Steve Rogers, Rhodey. I swear to god, I will never step foot in this city again”, you say, irritated.

He scoffed, “Nah, don’t worry. That’s never happening. It’s Sam. He’s been telling me that he wants to meet you.”

You observed his face for a second to see if he was being serious. “Sam? Sam Wilson? Why would he want to meet me?”, you asked, confused. Ever since the Sokovia Accords were brought into existence and ever since you sided with your father, Steve and the others didn’t want anything to do with your family. But you didn’t have anything against any of them— well, except for Steve. That was personal.

Even back then, you told your dad that you thought Bucky was innocent and that you want him to forgive Bucky somehow. You never met your grandparents so their accident/murder didn’t affect you. And you especially didn’t give a fuck about your deadbeat grandfather who would abuse your dad, but you felt your dad’s anger was justified as he loved his mom. You didn’t have an issue with Sam either. Not even when Rhodey met with that fatal accident that made him lose his legs. You saw the footage, and Rhodey told you as well, that Sam simply dodged. He didn’t cause the fall, nor did he injure him on purpose. The fall happened because his suit malfunctioned. But since Steve was the glue that was holding them together, they avoided talking to you at all. They were simply being loyal. And we all know how Steve Rogers thanked their loyalty in the end.

You would never forgive him for breaking your dysfunctional-found-family apart by being a selfish asshole and by abandoning your dad when he needed his support the most.

Rhodey shrugged. “Dunno. But he was looking forward to meeting you. He’s the kindest man I know, kid. And I know you don’t hold a grudge against him either. Please, come with me. I promise we will go get some ice cream later”, he said earnestly and smiled.

You let out a deep sigh. “Chocolate chips. Double scoop”, you said and lifted your water bottle to drink to avoid looking at his smug expression.

“Oh, you shall get anything you ask for, your highness”, he said while extravagantly bowing at you.

You just smirked and got back up to jog.

The constant clicking of the cameras was quickly causing a throbbing ache to appear behind your eyes. You were dressed in your formal clothes, presentable as always, and entered the museum arm-in-arm with Rhodey.

After giving a thousand repetitive interviews, half of which Rhodey denied on your behalf, you finally saw the man in question—Sam Wilson. Captain America.

Honestly, you were so proud of and excited for him to take up the mantle. It wasn’t a shock that Steve handed over that shield to Sam. He deserved it.

He saw the two of you and came over to talk. As he came closer, you saw just how shocked he was to see you there.

“Whats up, man? How are you?”, Sam said while shaking hands with Rhodey and bringing him in for a hug, all the while flashing his lovely, tooth-gaped smile.

Rhodey patted his back and broke away from the hug. “The usual. I got a surprise for you”, Rhodey said while putting an arm around your shoulder.

Sam, still surprised, flashed another one of his smiles at you.

“I just can’t believe you’re here. I hope you know how grateful I am”, he said earnestly while putting his hand out to shake yours.

You looked at his hand and shook it. “I’m surprised you wanted to meet me”, you say while smirking at him.

His smile faded after hearing that and he looked at you with a solemn expression.

“Yeah. I’m sorry it took me so long. I-” “Mr. Wilson, it’s your turn to speak.” Sam looked back at the woman and nodded his head at her.

“Uh…I’ll catch up with you after all this is done. Please wait until then?”, Sam turned around and asked you, nervously.

Rhodey looked at you to decipher your reaction. “Okay. I’ll wait. But not for long and not in front of these cameras”, you say coolly.

Sam smiles at you and Rhodey before approaching the stage.

“See? That wasn’t so bad”, Rhodey says while leading you to sit at the front row.

“We’ll see about that— not the front row, Rhodes... It’s like you want me to run away”, you groaned while slowing your pace.

Rhodey just laughs and pats your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll be next to you the whole time. You can even crush my hand if you want to.”

You and Rhodey sat down and watched Sam approach the stage.

Sam looked sharp in his well-fitted suit but something about his expression screamed anxiety.

He began his speech.

“Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically”, everyone chuckled at that. You scoffed.

“The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing...”, he chuckles before picking up the shield and continuing.

“I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up, and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you”, Sam concluded and handed over the shield to the museum security who then put encased it in a glass case. The camera flashes went off.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You knew something was wrong the moment Sam stepped up on the stage. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

You furrowed your eyebrows and turned your head to look at Rhodey.

“Why did he give up the shield?”, you asked confused.

Rhodey solemnly smiled.

“Maybe try talking to Sam about this?”, he explained to you, gently.

You nodded your head in understanding.

Rhodey went over to talk to Sam while you checked out the other exhibits to give them a little privacy.

You ended up looking at Bucky’s exhibit.

They were displaying those clips of him in the 40s, smiling and free of all the pain, and they made your heart clench in sadness and guilt. He deserved better.

“Still can’t believe bionic staring machine was a heartbreaker back then”, you heard Sam’s voice behind you.

You looked at him and smirked.

“As if he’s not a heartbreaker anymore. Those baby blue’s? Could break a grandma’s heart too, which is funny because he would still be older than her”, you joked and looked back at the display.

Sam stood to your right with his hands in his pockets. He laughed at your joke and looked up at the TV displaying Steve and Bucky together.

He let out a sigh and brought his lips together in a thin line.

You looked over to him and studied his profile observed the way he carried tension in his shoulders.

“Penny for your thoughts?”, you asked him gently.

He shut his eyes and looked down, letting out another deep sigh.

“Kid…I’m sorry”, he said, his voice heavy with guilt.

You furrowed your brows.

“For what?”, you asked, genuinely confused.

Sam finally looked up at you with teary eyes. His brows scrunched together.

“Everything. The accords…Rhodey’s acci- injuries. For-for not making an attempt to maintain contact with you, for-”

“Hey. Don’t. I’m not angry about any of that. I never was. And I will never hold a grudge against anyone that wasn’t on my da- on our side”, you cut him off and explained to him firmly. “And if Rhodey isn’t upset about his accident, then who am I to question it? I know you didn’t dodge. It was an accident. I saw the footage way back then, Sam”, you laid your hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

He was overcome with emotion. He deflated as if years’ worth of weight on his shoulders had been lifted off of him. He simply nodded his head.

“If anything, I’m sorry. For everything you had to go through. I hope you’re doing better, now”, you continued.

Sam gave you a half smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. Helpin’ out my sister with the house and my nephews.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. You didn’t know he had a sister or nephews.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah…I got a younger sister and 2 nephews— AJ and Cass.”

You smiled. “I had no idea. I’m glad you guys can live together again”, you replied sincerely.

“Thank you, kid. I had no idea you’re so….nice”, he smirked.

You let out a loud laugh. Contrary to popular belief and rumours, you were a good and polite kid. Your dad, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy made sure of that. It was always funny to find out how people would judge you on the basis of your last name. But, it could also be because of your resting bitch face.

Both of you quieted down and looked at the display once again, when you decided to finally bring it up.

“Sam, why’d you give up the shield?”, you asked curiously.

He pursed his lips.

“That shield is heavy. And I don’t know if this country is ready to see a man like me bear the weight of it. No matter how many times everyone keeps telling me that it was Steve’s choice, they don’t know the consequences of me being Captain America until they wear my shoes. Steve didn’t know it either because at the end of the day, our skin colour doesn’t match and that isn’t suitable for the shield”, he replied heavily.

It felt like someone had put cold water on top of you, his words cutting straight through your ignorance. The pressure that Sam was undergoing would never be understood by anyone who didn’t look like him. That’s why Rhodey was so understanding of his decision.

You straightened up.

“Oh. Sam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”, you paused to gather your thoughts and word them carefully. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I should’ve known better. I understand. And I respect your decision”, you replied, genuine understanding dripping from your words.

Sam looked at you, surprised. He wasn’t expecting you to understand his situation.

“That’s- it’s..alright kid. Thank you for understanding me. It means a lot”, he replied sincerely and patted your shoulder.

You were about to take his leave when he spoke up.

“Listen, I got a proposal for you.”

You quirked an eyebrow.

“Just…hear me out, okay? Rhodey told me to keep an eye out for you whenever he’s busy. Says you do well with discipline in your routine. If you don’t mind, you could join me and help me out with the tech stuff, you know?”, he said hesitantly.

You were about to deny his offer when he put his hands out in a placating gesture.

“I know, it’s been a long time. You’re not interested in this stuff anymore. But I could use some extra hands and who better than a Stark to help out with technology, right? And, who knows, maybe you’ll make a friend”, he tried to convince you.

“A friend? You think I’m some loner or what, Wilson? (You kind of were, a loner, but we will ignore that.) And just who is this friend?”, you asked him with narrowed eyes.

“He’s my new team member. A tech savvy nerd, like you. You’ll get along, trust me. Except I’ll warn you, that boy yaps a Lot”, Sam replied while chuckling.

That sounded way too familiar to you. You immediately froze and just stared at Sam, lost in thought. All those unwanted and painful memories were coming back to you.

Sam put his hand on your shoulder and you snapped out of your stupor.

“You don’t have to answer me immediately. Take your time, the offer is always open for you. Okay?”, he asked hopefully, ever the optimistic counselor.

You let out a big sigh.

“I don’t know. I’ll see”, you murmured. You could feel that uneasy feeling creep up your veins that told you to shut down, keep everyone away and to run somewhere far away where you could be isolated in peace.

You were finally feeling comfortable in your little bubble that consisted of you, Rhodey, Pepper, Happy and Morgan. Now you had to go out and make yourself accommodating and welcoming again. You had to repeat everything and start from scratch. It was a lot. You were not ready for that.

Healing is never linear, you knew that. But you were doing so well for the past two months. You clenched your fists and begged your mind to keep it together. You were pretty good at masking it.

Sam just nodded his head and patted your arm.

“Come on, I’ll walk you and Rhodey off.”

You both returned to Rhodey and said your goodbyes.

“See ya, old man. Take care of yo’self, alright?”, Sam said while hugging Rhodey.

“You too, Wilson”, Rhodey said before breaking the hug and patting Sam’s back.

“I’m proud of you, Sam. Never forget that”, Rhodey said gently.

Sam just smiled weakly and patted Rhodey’s shoulder before turning to look at you.

You looked at him and gave him a barely there smile before surprising him with a hug. You don’t know what came over you but you just wanted him to know that you appreciated his support and the conversation that you two had back there. Your words failed you, so you did the next best thing you knew– a hug.

He looked at Rhodey over your shoulder and patted your back like an older brother.

“Take care, kid. Think about what I said”, he said after breaking off the hug.

You simply nodded your head yes.

“And both of you are invited to the family cookout, alright? Rhodes, make sure you bring them with you. Sarah makes a mean cornbread”, Sam says while pointing at you.

Rhodey chuckles and you grin before departing.

You sat in the car and looked out of the window, deep in thought. You were processing your conversation with Sam and debating whether you should join him, or not. You couldn’t help but keep thinking about this friend that he mentioned and how he reminded you too much of-

“Whatcha thinkin’?”, Rhodey asked lightly, as if to not startle you.

You glanced back at him and turned your attention to the front of the car. You sighed softly.

“Had a good chat with Sam. We apologised to each other and sorted out our misconceptions.”

“That’s good, right?”, Rhodey asked and tilted his head to look at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. It was really nice to clear all of that up. He’s so…lovely to talk to. We also talked about his decision to give up the shield. I felt so stupid when he explained it to me. How could I not understand that beforehand?”, you said while clenching your jaw, feeling guilty for judging his decision.

Rhodey gave you a soft smile.

“Atleast you’re self-aware, sweetheart”, he said lightly.

You finally gave him a smile.

“Yeah. He also gave me an offer. To join him”, you said hesitantly.

Rhodey smirked knowingly. Sam had already discussed this with him.

“And? What’re you thinking?”, Rhodey asked nonchalantly so as to not freak you out.

You let out a deep breath.

“I don’t know. I’ll think over it”, you replied with finality in your tone.

Rhodey felt the walls build up again so he backed off instead of pestering you to talk more.

“That’s okay. You can take all the time you want, kid. There’s no rush”, Rhodey said sincerely.

You looked at him and squeezed his hand.

“Shall we go get that ice-cream now, your highness?”, Rhodey joked.

You finally let out a chuckle and nodded your head yes before turning your attention back towards the window. You let out a sigh.

You were not going to get any sleep tonight.

Part 2

—————————————————————————

AN: Whew. This was so LONG, I’m so sorry. 😭🙏 but I just couldn’t stop writing because I love me a stark!reader as that’s literally me but also I needed some found family content + closure between the stark family and the cap fam, too. Which is why I had to break it in 2 parts. Our lovebirds will meet in the 2nd part. Keep guessing the references and this mystery person until then.😛 thank you for reading!

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lavenderandirises · 1 month ago

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I just saw Captain America: Brave New World so spoilers!!!

When Joaquin went down because of the missile do you think Sam had flashbacks to Riley? because i do

#captain america #sam wilson #joaquin torres #cabnw #cabnw spoilers #riley #angst #ptsd #also #buck saying ‘i love you buddy’#amazing #love it #sambucky

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nathanbatemanfucker · 27 days ago

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Beyond Misconceptions

summary: joaquin is usually the poster child for positivity, but sometimes the doubt creeps in.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

contents: angst, jealous/insecure!joaquin, arguing, depictions of anxiety

wc: 1,675

an: based on this requested concept! it went a bit different than expected but i hope yall still enjoy <3 (and also hope it will hold yall over until vuelve pt. v is done!!!)

danny ramirez characters masterlist

Most of the time, Joaquin loves his job. He loves the brother he’s found in Sam, the tangible way he sees himself helping people day in and day out. The feeling of soaring through the sky, the invincibility that he seems to find in the wind.

But, what Joaquin doesn’t love about the job is the rift that it can sometimes create between you. One could say he’s being dramatic by using the word rift— you have never once complained, never made him feel guilty for the unpredictability of his schedule.

You always tell him that you know what you signed up for when you fell in love with him. And you do.

Joaquin is certainly grateful for your love and understanding, but it’s days like today that make him want to find some 9-5 to nurse.

When he steps into the party you two were meant to attend together an hour and a half late, he’s eager to see you. That eagerness twists into something ugly when he sees you. You, standing in a group, but primarily talking to some guy he doesn’t recognize.

You look…happy. Happy to be talking with a guy who showed up on time. With a guy who doesn’t put his life on the line, and your relationship on hold at the drop of a hat.

He can’t decide what he wants to do more— leave and let you be happy or put himself between you and this mystery guy.

As if you can feel him, you glance over in his direction, lighting up at the sight of him. That restless mix of jealousy and guilt fades a little with you so excited to see him.

“Quino,” You call to him, waving him over. When he makes it to you, you reach for his hand immediately, drawing him so that you can place a kiss on his cheek. “Made in one piece, I see, cariño.”

“Siempre lo hago,” he murmurs, snaking an arm around your waist. “So who’s this?”

You introduce Joaquin to the guy easily, slipping him into the conversation without missing a beat. Paul. Joaquin nods along, lets you pull him closer, listens as you chat, and laughs like nothing is wrong. Like he wasn’t late. Like you weren’t having a perfectly good time without him.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He does. It’s just that tonight feels like a reminder of everything he isn’t—someone who shows up on time, someone whose job doesn’t put you second. And maybe it’s stupid, maybe it doesn’t matter, but it still twists something sharp in his chest.

His grip tightens just slightly on your waist. You glance up at him, brows furrowing in quiet question, but he just shakes his head, forcing a small smile. You don’t push, but something in your gaze lingers. You know him too well. You always do.

You’re driving the two of you home, music spilling softly out of the speaker when you decide to break the tension that’s been building.

“So what was that?”

“What was what?”

“You were being…possessive?” The word comes out of your mouth like a question because you’re not entirely sure. Nothing like this has ever happened with Joaquin— it’s unfamiliar territory.

“Claro que no,” he insists.

You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes. “Yeah, because that wasn’t defensive at all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your eyes flicker over at him momentarily, and you soften at his visible tension. You’re gentler when you speak again, “Soy yo, Quino. We don’t lie to each other, we don’t do this… jealous thing that you did tonight. I don’t know that guy, I probably won’t ever see him again and I’m fine with that.”

“It wasn’t about that.”

“Oh, but it was about something? What could I have possibly done when I hadn’t seen you in days?”

“Querida— you didn’t do anything— it’s not… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You purse your lips, feeling a little frustrated. “I want you to tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. And if you can’t now, then think about it and we’ll talk about it before bed. Deal?”

The silence stretches between you, the music sounding much louder in the wake of your breaths.

Eventually, Joaquin says begrudgingly, “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

“What do you want?”

“You,” He says softly, and nothing more.

—

Once you and Joaquin get home, you don’t push. You refuse to when he’s being so elusive, so guarded in a way he’s never been. You aren’t really sure what to do with it and it makes your stomach churn. You make your way straight to the shower without so much of a glance in his direction.

Joaquin wants to call after you, but can’t find his voice. Not a surprise when he feels his mind is completely scrambled.

All of this has tilted you off your axis. You make sure the water is scalding hot, hoping that the steam will steep out your thoughts of insecurity and unease. By the time you make it out, it just feels like they’ve grown louder, rooting deeper into your brain stem.

You make your way into the kitchen, walking past Joaquin where he’s sat on the couch. He watches you quietly as you make tea, unsure if you still want to talk or if he’s created the catalyst for his worst fear; losing you.

“So are we gonna talk about it or are you gonna keep staring at me?”

“Mi amor—“

You huff as you sit the chair across from him, “No, don’t mi amor me when you won’t even tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s not that I won’t, it’s that—“

“If you say you can’t, Joaquin, te juro por Dios.”

“I was gonna say that I’m struggling to figure out how. There’s too much up here, you know that. Usually, it’s just cheery.”

“I’m not asking you to be cheery, I’m asking you to be honest.”

Joaquin sighs, leaning forward to place his face in his hands. “When I saw you with him, I just— it made me wonder if you deserve better than me.”

Your brow furrows. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re in a relationship with a man you’re going to outlive. I’m never home, I’m always late as hell. Every day I force you to wait— for me or for a call that’ll break your heart. Don’t you think you deserve somebody that can be there for you? Someone, you aren’t afraid of losing every damn day?”

“I knew what I was getting into when I chose to start this with you. I know that you want to be around and be more consistent, but Quino, you’re out there saving the world. I can’t ask you to put down your dreams because you missed the first hour of a party.”

“I‘ve missed more than just an hour of a party. What happens when it’s our wedding? Or if you get sick? What if you need me and I miss something big? That guy, he could give you that.”

You lean forward, reaching across the coffee table to place your hand over his. “Then we’ll reschedule. Or my parents will take care of me. Or I’ll need you and I’ll be really sad that you’re not there but eventually, you will be. I don’t give a fuck about that guy. I don’t even remember his name. What I do remember, is how much I love you and how long it took me to have the courage to tell you that.”

Joaquin looks down at your hands before interlacing your fingers together. Your words soothe him even as he wrestles with the fact that he wants to give you more. He’ll try to give you more— you deserve it and so does the health of your relationship.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you?” you challenge, wanting him to truly think about it.

There are things about your relationship with Joaquin that are less than ideal and certainly compromise but that’s part of love. Compromising and making things work with the people that you love. Joaquin is loyal, loving, and tender; he always makes you laugh and takes your feelings seriously. He just happens to be a superhero, one you have to share with the world.

How selfish would it be to take him away from people that need him?

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “I’m sure. ¿Me dirás si algo cambia?”

“Lo prometo.”

Joaquin leans back into the couch, patting his lap, “Ven.”

You quickly make your way to sit in his lap, wrapping both your arms around his neck as you let your legs dangle across the couch.

“Te amo, princesa.”

“I know, I love you too,” you murmur, running a hand affectionately through his hair.

Joaquin’s eyes fall to your lips, and when he finally leans in, his mouth brushes yours softly, a quiet promise that everything will be okay. His thumb traces your cheek, and it feels like all the unsaid words are finally spoken in the wax and wane of this gentle kiss. You close your eyes, grounding yourself in the feeling of him, of home. As he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath shaky, and you both linger there, knowing that in this moment, everything is enough.

After several moments of silence, Joaquin’s lips find your ear, “Paul.”

You lean away from where you’d gotten comfortable on his chest to look at him quizzically. “What?”

“The guy’s name— fucking Paul.”

You laugh, shaking the both of you. “I’ve already forgotten again. I’m more focused on this marriage you’ve mentioned.”

“I’m thinking under the cherry blossoms.”

“You should think about the blow your bank account is gonna take getting me a ring.”

Joaquin raises a brow at you, “Who says I don’t already have it, hermosa?”

You squint at him— usually, you’re pretty good at telling if he’s bluffing but his features are smoothed into the perfect poker face. “You lying?”

“Guess you’ll just have to find out, baby.”

lmk if you'd like to be on the sfw (or nsfw for 18+) joaquin taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @moonymeloncholymoney

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x fem!reader #joaquin torres x f!reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres #joaquin torres fanfiction #joaquin torres angst #joaquin torres imagine #captain american: bnw fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #x reader #arson writes #al’s mail requests

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fmnxpl · 16 days ago

Text

Hold me, please

Pairing: Joaquin x semi!avenger!reader (not really an avenger but reader does fight and is in a fight scene here)

Warnings: a looooooot of angst, brief fight scenes, some fluff, at the begining, open ending (bc i might make a part 2 if someone is interested), brutal injuries, gore, and also reader is not doing well mentally with Joaquins last mission

Word count: 2k

Summary: You get hurt on a mission that was supposed to be Joaquin‘s. Arguments start, words are said that cannot be taken back. What ever to do now?

A/N: I think my next few posts will be joaquin based but i will def throw in some jason todd fics! Also thank you so much for all the love Forget me Not got! All likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated and i have seen all!:)) As a thank you have a waaaaayyy longer Joaquin Fanfic. I hope you enjoy it<3

You feel him long before you see him.

A small smile grows onto your face as his goatee scratches and tickles your neck while he places kisses along your jaw. You had forced Joaquin a few weeks ago to let his beard grow in because you found him more attractive with it, and although he was reluctant at first—because he didn’t want Sam making fun of him—he very quickly learned that it indeed made you way more attracted to him. You open your eyes and turn around in his arms so that your face is pressed against his chest, one of your hands cradling the back of his neck.

"You smell really good, Joaquin," you murmur, placing a kiss on his Adam’s apple. You feel him shudder around you. “I was wearing that new cologne you got me yesterday,” he replies, his voice still thick with sleep. “Seems like it stuck.“

A low hum leaves you as you feel yourself slipping back into sleep.

"No, baby. We need to get up. It's late, and I gotta go meet Sam and Bucky." "Do you have a new mission? You just got out of the hospital, Joaquin. I don’t want you out there for at least two more weeks.". You sit up in bed, your back meeting the headboard. Joaquin leans on his side, propping himself up with one hand as he looks up at you with a goofy, shit-eating grin, chuckling.

"No, not a mission. Just a quick debrief of their last mission, and they wanted me to surveil an attack. I won’t engage at all, and I will be far, far, far away from any danger. I promise.". Every "far" is followed by a soft kiss on your chest, just above your heart.

You let out a sharp sigh and look away. Ever since his brush with death, you’ve been anxious, doting on him, taking care of him—you don’t want him out there anymore. You knew who he was, and you knew all the dangers that came with his job. You yourself would help them out here and there on their missions, but you would never call yourself an Avenger, a hero, or anything of the sort. And you certainly had never experienced such grave injuries before.

They had to restart his heart. He was gone. His heart—the one that holds so much love and so much joy—had stopped, and—

"Stop that." "I'm not doing anything." "You’re thinking too much about this. I won’t be near any danger, and after this, I won’t be asked to do anything for a month." He pulls himself from under the covers and makes his way to the bathroom, leaving you no room to start an argument.

As you stand up to get yourself something to eat, your phone begins to ring. It’s Sam. You pick up on the third ring.

"Hey, Sam." "Where are you? Is Joaquin with you?" You furrow your brows in worry at his tone. "No, he's in the bathroom. It's just me. What happened, Sam?" "We need you for a mission, but Joaquin can’t know." "Is it the mission that he’s surveilling? How exactly do you want him not to know, Sam?" "It’s a ruse." "A ruse? Am I your jack-in-the-box? Sam, just because Joaquin is on a break doesn’t mean you can go searching for others to just throw themselves headfirst into—" "I’m not asking."

"…Excuse me?"

"It is either you or Joaquin. And I wouldn’t have asked if this wasn’t absolutely necessary. Figure it out." Before you can even formulate a sentence in your head, he has already hung up.

A minute later, you receive a text from Sam—coordinates, most likely where the mission is supposed to take place.

You exhale deeply through your nose before moving to the kitchen. Breakfast is bland, unsatisfying. A little while later, Joaquin steps out of the shower, fresh and clean, already dressed. He grabs some fruit, kisses the top of your head, and bids you goodbye.

For a few minutes after Joaquin‘s departure, you stare at the kitchen wall. No sound, no movement, just the weight of your own heavy breathing. The more you think about Sam and his mission, the more you feel yourself stress. Your left ear starts ringing heavily as your head starta to sway. The harsh ringing of your phone yanks you out, and you quickly pick it up.

"I’ll be there in ten, Sam."

"Does Joaquin know? He just arrived and seems a bit skittish."

"No, I didn’t tell him anything, Sam. Can you keep an eye on him? At least until I’m in?"

"You got it. And thank you, for doing this."

———

It was supposed to be quick.

In and out. Grab the damn papers, throw anybody down who tried to get them, and get out before you get caught. And don’t kill anybody. That was what Sam and Bucky had told you.

Sam had even given you a headset to stay connected to Bucky as he stayed behind with Joaquin to surveil you and keep him off the radar. About five minutes in, your headset was crushed when one of the workers in the facility tried to bash your head into the wall. Small shards and sharp pieces of the headset pierced the side of your head, leaving behind a deep cut just beneath your eye. Your ear was ringing again, and you could practically feel Sam start to panic.

It took you two elongated hours before you finally saw the front door cleared. You had been stabbed in your abdomen, and your hand—although pierced to bits as well—pressed onto your wound as best as you could. The other hand grasped the papers tightly in case anybody tried to rip them out again.

But as you made your way to the door, your legs gave out from just beneath you and— Damn it.

Everything went black.

Damn Sam and this stupid superhero bullshit.

…

You hear frantic voices, someone yelling for help. Two warm hands cradle your face, thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles against your cheeks. "Mi cielo my sky, don’t do this here. Please, please, please. I’m sorry. I know it hurts. Baby, don’t you love me? You can’t leave me alone, please, baby."

That was all you had gotten before your body blacked out again.

---

The next time your body wakes again, your eyes open first. A bright, strong white light almost blinds you with its intensity, and it does nothing to help the blaring headache pounding away at your skull. As you move your head to the side, you spot Joaquin. He looks tired—eyebags under his eyes more prominent, his beard unkempt and grown thicker than the last time you saw him. His hand holds tightly onto yours. You try to speak, to move, to give him any sign that you’re awake, but you’re far too exhausted. Instead, you just hope he realizes it on his own.

The door swings open, and Sam and Bucky enter. Sam holds a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, while Bucky—who doesn’t look much better than you imagine you do—just stands idly by.

"How ya doin’, kid?" Sam places the flowers on the nightstand next to your bed. You let out a sigh and open your mouth to try and speak, but before you get the chance, Joaquin already startled awake.

"How long has she been awake? Why didn’t you wake me? Do you need the doctor? Hold on, let me—". He moves to press the call button, but Sam is quicker.

No one says anything after that. Joaquin simply sits to the side as the doctor checks on you, glaring between you and Sam. You already know—once the doctor, Sam, and Bucky leave—you’re in for a long argument. And it's ironic, considering you had just been in his position less than a week ago. It takes an excruciating hour before Sam and Bucky finally decide to leave.

All the while, Joaquin hasn’t muttered a single word. Sam apologizes, and Bucky tries to start a conversation, but he doesn’t get far once he realizes that nobody is responding to him.

In all honesty, you don’t want them to leave. You don’t want to start an argument with Joaquin when your body is still half-alive, still clawing its way out of the grasp of death. However, much to your surprise, five minutes after Sam and Bucky leave, Joaquin stands up as well.

"Where are you going?" Your voice comes out dull and scratchy from disuse.

"I’m going home. I’ll come back tomorrow."

"Joaquin—". He leaves.

You exhale a deep sigh, turning your head to stare at the wall beside you.

——

It takes you two weeks to be cleared to return home. And in those fourteen days, Joaquin comes to visit you only four times—each visit shorter than the last. You try to talk to him, try to get him to explain why he’s this upset when he himself does this nearly every day, but the only responses you get are a sigh, a roll of his eyes, or a very short, "I have to go." You quickly learn to leave it be. When the time comes, he does come to pick you up, driving you both home in complete silence.

The second you step through your front door, his entire demeanor shifts.

"Was this what you wanted from the start?" His voice is sharp and rough as he whips around to face you. His narrowed eyes glare at you with a pointed stare, his breath coming out heavy.

"What? Joaquin, what are you—"

"Did you want this to happen? Go on a mission, get yourself hurt, just to teach me a lesson? I just got out of the fucking hospital, and not even a week later, you’re in there. Are you out of your mind? Taking on a mission like that all on your own? No backup, nothing, and I wasn’t even informed that you were there! You all lied to me. You can’t even fucking fight. You’re not even a fucking Avenger. What the fuck is wrong with you?", his voice grows significantly louder with every word that tumbles out of his mouth, but all you can focus on is the last sentence.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Is.

Wrong.

With.

You?

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Joaquin? I took care of you for four fucking weeks—day in and day out! I got you food, I got you everything you wanted, and this is what I fucking get? I took the fucking mission so you wouldn’t have gotten hurt again, and you can’t even look at me. Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, you don’t get to—".

You don’t let him finish.

You turn around, storming toward the door, and slam it shut behind you.

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres #joaquin x reader #joaquin x you #angst #argument #marvel x reader #marvel

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happypopcornprincess · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 2 || Illicit Affairs

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - Actions are questioned, and emotions clash admits the arrival of the mission.

Word Count - 4.5K

Warnings: SMUT, Language, Angst, Mentions of blood, DV, Abuse

<< Chapter 1 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 3 >>

Two Days later

“How are you doing y/n?” Bucky spoke up as you entered the briefing room.

You smiled at him as you took your seat in the room, “I’m doing great, how are you?” you take out your essentials and set up your things for the briefing.

“Been a while since you showed up in casuals,” he pointed to the loose white t-shirt and sweats you were wearing.

Oh shit.

You look down at your… well, Joaquin’s clothes, “I was working in the lab last night.” you let out a nervous laugh.

“Nice cologne,” Bucky smirks.

Wait… does he know something?

You narrowed your eyes at him when he looked away. You haven’t told anybody about the… arrangement with Joaquin. But then, he has been your neighbor for as long as you can remember.

Before you could brainstorm further, Sam entered, as well as other members of the team. Shang-Chi, Kate, and surprisingly, Kamala. She waved at you excitedly, and you returned the same. You were not expecting the newest, and the youngest member of your team here. Sam was trying to include her around the campus, let her see how things go around. As Kamala was still figuring out her powers, it will be a while when she will be on a real mission on ground. She had weaseled her way to you, automatically making you her ‘mentor’.

Sam begins, “Good morning team, hope you all are well rested and hydrated, because this may take a while.” Laughs erupted, and eventually settled down as Sam took on the projector.

Pictures you have seen countless times on TV appeared on it, “All thanks to y/n and Kate's months long investigations, We have discovered that after New Year’s Eve… oh, there you are.”

The door opened with a creek, heads turned, and in came Joaquin.

Freshly shaved, hair still wet from the shower, haphazardly put together in a casual outfit, standing in the doorway out of breath and wide eyed looking around the room.

You very well knew why he was late, and avoided his eyes pretending to write in your planner.

“Take a seat Torres.” Sam spoke, and you heard hurried footsteps carrying him right to the seat in front of you.

“Sorry guys…” he apologized as he slid into his seat.

His scent invaded your senses, some dollar store product he uses everyday mixed with a scent so… Joaquin. You couldn’t resist but look up.

His eyes were already on you.

You lock his gaze for a second, Sam’s voice just a murmur in the background as the memories of last night danced in your mind. The loose t-shirt you were wearing felt hot to be in.

You quickly look at the projector, choosing to focus on the mission you will be leaving for soon, because you knew if you looked in his eyes for a second more… you would be in a lot of trouble.

The briefing didn’t last too long; Kingpin, to nobody’s surprise, escaped death on Christmas. All this while you were searching for him in the mainland, he was in mexico… planning something meticulous.

The mission was pretty straightforward; move in with two teams surrounding him from both sides of his hideout, and bring him back to the states alive to face trial.

“We move in 48 hours; there will be two teams; one moving Point A, the outskirts of the hideout, and another moving Point B, led by bucky. Get your gears up. Good luck.”

Sam got out first with Bucky on his heels, talking in hushed tones about the upcoming mission.

You took your time gathering up your things all while having small talk with Kamala. She was new, and you had a thing for guiding the new ones around. She excitedly told you about her latest mission with Maria and Carol in outer space, and you had to ask, “So, you met goose?”

Her eyes blew wide, “Oh my god, yes! He freaked me out a bit at first, but now I always hug him anytime we meet and Mr. Fury looks at me like I raided his house.”

You laughed as you got out of the room with her, but before you could say anything, Joaquin materialized before you, like a particularly handsome, slightly stressed genie.

“Hello y/n.” he smiles.

“Hey Joaquin.” You smile back.

“Hey Joaquin.” Kamala waves at him.

“Hey Kamala.” Joaquin's eyes flickered between you and Kamala, a silent plea for rescue in their depths.

“y/n, I just wanted to talk to you about the thing I told you the other day.” He asks you.

“What thing?” you play dumb.

“Yeah, what thing?” Kamala intervenes.

Joaquin looks like he is about to pass out, “You know, the thing.” He repeated, a forced smile appearing on his face.

“I'm afraid I don't follow,” you replied, enjoying his discomfort.

“Just come with me, I need to have a chat.” He practically begs, almost whining.

Kamala chirps up, “can I come with you guys?” blissfully unaware of what was happening.

You look at his face, his pupils blown wide, the outline of his dog tags visible underneath his white shirt, and the way his body was angled towards yours, his self-control clearly stretched thin.

You took pity on his plight, “It’s about the Flag smashers Kamala,” you turned towards Kamala, “I’ll meet you in the common room in an hour.”

“Two hours.” Joaquin ads.

“Okay.” Kamala smiled, blissfully unaware of the situation between you and Joaquin.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Joaquin grabbed your arm, not roughly, but with the urgency of a man trying to defuse a bomb, and dragged you towards the living quarters, pulling you close as if to avoid drawing attention.

As soon as you enter his room, he slams the door shut, and you against it.

“You are in a lot of trouble.” He breaths out, his lips inches away from yours.

His hands grab your shoulders, pressing you tight on the door, his frame caging your body. You jut your chin towards him, looking him right in his pretty brown eyes. “It wasn't my fault you tied yourself to the bed.”

He presses his chest to yours, “It was your fault to leave me there this morning. Took me 20 minutes to get out of them.”

His body heat against yours made your head spin. “What about it then?” your breath quickened.

“You’ll find out.” He practically manhandles you, pushing you on his bed. You do quick work on your t-shirt, his t-shirt, while looking around the bed, still unmade from your activities last night.

He takes off his shirt, and then it’s a blur of clothes being thrown around and your bodies fighting to be on top.

“Easy tiger,” you breathed out as he bit your neck.

“Can’t wait to taste you…” he moaned as he slowly sucked on your skin.

You grab a fistful of his hair, “I think you’re a bit pussy drunk, lieutenant.”

“Ay carino,” he chuckled, closing his eyes, “don’t act like you don’t want me to have my way with you right now.”

“Mmm hmm,” you bite your lip, your legs clenching his waist just by the thought of how you had him handcuffed to the bed, how he withered and moaned beneath your touch all night.

Until you hear a click, and feel cool metal on your wrists.

You look above you, breathless, and see your hands bound together with cuffs on the metal frame of his bed.

“Oh please,” you grumble, your heartbeat doing a summersault inside your chest imagining what’s about to happen next.

Joaquin’s face hovered over yours, his face flushed, “you brought this upon yourself carino,” he breathed out, blowing raspberries on your chest as you laughed, “is this okay?” his big brown eyes find yours, his eyebrows raised in concern. “Yep.” you smile, pecking his lips, “now get to work.” you grind yourself on his already hard cock, which results in him crashing his lips on yours.

----------

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and stolen stares They show their truth one single time But they lie, and they lie, and they lie A million little times

Warm hands running down your waist, he drew feather light circles on your skin. Facing him, you laid your head on the pillow next to him. The floor to ceiling length windows in his room showed the sky outside turning pink from the setting sun.

“What about this?” you trace a scar on his collarbone that’s barely visible. Judging from how it has mended, it looked years old.

He smiles, his hands going up, the skin above your ribs, “Biking accident.”

“Biking?” you raised your eyebrows in shock.

He rolls his eyes, “I used to race with my friends after school. Had to be rushed to the ER after falling down a canal. Got grounded for a month.”

There was something about him looking at peace, smiling, and telling you stories about his past that made a smile etched on your face on its own, imagining him as a kid running around the streets of his small town.

He runs his fingers through the stray strands of your hair. “You must have done something like that with your friends back then. You can tell me, you know”

Your smile fades thinking about the past, the last five years of how you were all alone while your friends and family were…

Sensing that you don’t want to talk about it, he gently closed his fingers around your wrists. He brings them up to his lips and kisses them. Your eyes travel to the red marks on your hands, and then to his eyes.

Those big brown eyes, looking right at you with a level of intensity that made your heart race. It had happened a lot recently, you had seen this before; it increased every time you fell on his bed.

He was your… friend? Lover? You had agreed to not pull any labels between you. But the line between having casual sex to being friends to expecting more has been blurring a lot recently. At Least for you.

You sat upright, gathering the sheets to cover yourself. Joaquin opens his mouth to say something but you blurt out, “Kamala must be waiting for me. Better get to her before she asks around for me.”

Take the words for what they areA dwindling, mercurial highA drug that only workedThe first few hundred times

You throw in a forceful smile, and pretend not to see the hurt that flashed on Joaquin’s face as you dressed up.

“How about dinner tonight?” he asks you, “I can come over…”

“I’m going to Peter’s place.” you cut him off. Looking at him you see him sitting up, leaning back on the headboard. You threw a forceful smile, “It’s been a while since I met aunt may, and I miss her food so,” you huff out, doing quick work on your clothes that you had worn the day before.

You gathered your things and opened the door, getting a last look at him as he sat on the bed, speechless, his eyes begging you to explain your sudden reaction.

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times

“Take care Joaquin.” You manage to speak up, before leaving his room.

His fault. The voice inside your head took the reins. He should have known this was only physical the minute it started.

It's his fault he caught feelings.

What you missed, was another, faint sound somewhere on the back of your head;

Maybe it’s mine too.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as your phone rang, it was Bucky.

“Congratulations kiddo.” he laughed through the call.

“What?” you asked, bewildered.

“Your first mission on the field. You're coming with us to mexico.”

—/—/—

Your apartment felt too small, each step a frantic attempt to outrun the rising panic. You were shaking, a tremor that started deep inside and radiated outwards. That phone call...it had sent you reeling, a need to escape, to be here, in your own space, overwhelming.

Why am I getting nervous? The thought raced through your mind, a desperate plea for logic. Months of training. Years of martial arts. I'm ready. But the words felt hollow, a flimsy shield against the tidal wave of anxiety.

A faint voice echoed in your head, a cruel, familiar sound: You useless little shit! Can you do anything on your own without me nagging you for it?

The floor seemed to tilt, your knees buckling beneath you. Your chest tightened, a burning sensation that spread like wildfire, choking the air from your lungs. The room spun, the walls closing in. You gasped, a desperate attempt to draw a breath, but your lungs refused to cooperate.

Memories, unwanted and vivid, flashed before your eyes, a relentless slideshow of the past. You were trapped, a helpless spectator forced to relive every agonizing moment. The world narrowed, the present fading into the overwhelming weight of the past.

You couldn't stop it; you couldn't escape.

"Cigarette in hand, your father stood mere feet away as your mother struck you, the wooden stick raised for another blow.

“How many was it?” she screamed, her voice a jolt to your already terrified nerves.

“Fi- five…” you managed between sobs.

“Five more,” your father stated in a chilling tone, dragging on his cigarette.

Your wails intensified, tears streaming down your face, but your mother continued, dropping the stick and resorting to her hands.

“How could you break all those glasses while washing, Y/N!” she slapped you again. “You’re seven! When I was your age, I could handle the entire kitchen on my own, and you can’t even wash dishes!”

Amidst your sobs and your mother’s shouts, you heard the front door open and hurried footsteps on the hardwood floor rushing into the kitchen.

“Ma!” your brother, Connor, ran in, throwing his baseball glove to the floor. He positioned himself between you and your mother. “Please, stop.”

“Connor, get away now, or you’ll get a beating from my hands!” she screamed, startling you. Your hands burned, your back ached, and your legs trembled from the pain.

“Ma, I’ll help with the dishes, okay? Just let her go this time,” he pleaded. Then, your father grabbed him by the arm and shook him.

“Listen here, boy,” he growled, “you ain’t doing no dishes in this house, alright? Let your ma handle her, and get out before I get my belt.”

You still don’t know what possessed you, but you ran. You fled the kitchen, the house, your bare feet carrying you at full speed across the front yard and into the vast fields of your family farm.

Your mother screamed for you to stop, your brother close behind, but you didn’t dare look back. You ran.

Ten-year-old Connor found you hours later, passed out in the fields, dehydrated and sunburned. You spent weeks in the hospital, enduring IVs while your parents belittled you for wasting their hard-earned money on a useless kid like you.

Because you overreacted to their discipline.

“Y/N!”

You gasped, jerking awake at the sound of your name. A cough, building in your throat, finally escaped, and Joaquin rubbed your back as you clung to his hand, your grip desperate. You were on the floor, disoriented, sweat slicking your body, and delirious.

“It’s alright,” Joaquin murmured, pulling you into a hug. You realized you were shivering, and you held onto him tighter, his warmth enveloping you.

“I- I don’t know- how-” you gasped, trying to make sense of what had just happened, but a sob escaped, and you began to cry. You cried for reasons unknown to you at that moment, your chest heaving, your breath erratic.

Joaquin said nothing, simply holding you closer. He rubbed your back, brushed your hair away from your face, and wiped your tears, offering silent comfort.

After what felt like hours of sobbing in Joaquin's arms, you finally calmed down. Silence settled in your apartment as your breathing returned to normal and the shaking subsided.

Joaquin didn’t release you.

“Joaquin…” you whispered, turning to him. He gently loosened his hold, his hands still resting on your arms. When you looked at him, your chest tightened with a surge of emotion.

His eyebrows were furrowed in worry, his eyes filled with concern. “Y/N…”

“I don’t know,” you said, with genuine confusion in your voice. “I was… walking, and then I was on the floor, and you…”

“Okay, okay…” he rubbed your arms reassuringly. “Let’s get you up.”

“I haven’t packed… and…”

He cut you off. “It’s fine, it’s fine, we’ll take care of that later.” He looped an arm around your back and another under your knees, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

“Joaquin, I-” you protested, but he simply hugged you closer as he carried you to your bedroom.

He laid you on the bed, quickly clearing away the scattered items, and pulled the covers over you. You curled into yourself, watching as he removed his shoes and jacket and lay down beside you.

You could only look at him as he settled in, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He hadn’t asked any questions, hadn’t questioned the situation, and he refused to leave. His calmness scared you; anyone else would have left you alone.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, unable to stop yourself.

He turned his head to look at you, his gentle gaze soothing you. “Don’t say sorry.”

“I don’t know what happened to me,” you said, your throat tightening at the memory of your panic.

“Hey,” he turned fully towards you, keeping a respectful distance. “Go to sleep, okay? We'l in the morning.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face.

You nodded, exhaling, and gathered the courage to ask, “Can you-” you swallowed, “Can you stay?”

A gentle smile spread across his face. “Of course. Where else would I go?”

He lifted your head to rest it on his shoulder, his familiar scent enveloping you. Your tired eyes began to close, and you buried your face in his neck, his warmth making you even sleepier. You hugged him closer, intertwining your legs with his.

That night, sleep came easier than ever."

—/—/—

You open your eyes, tired and swollen, sunlight hitting your face. You scrunch your eyebrows as you wake up, expecting to find your bedroom with clothes lying everywhere.

Instead, you see a neat pile of all your clothes on the end of the bed, and another pile near the dresser.

Joaquin

You hurriedly went out to the kitchen, and there he was, fussing over a sizzling pan of waffles.

His eyes met yours, the sunlight streaming through the windows highlighting his form. He was fresh out of the shower, damp hair sticking up in disarray, wearing a gym shirt he’d left at your place and a pair of well-worn sweats.

“Hi.” you manage to speak.

“Hey.” he breathed out.

You stood there, unable to decide what to say next, and after what seemed like forever, he looked down at the pan for waffles, flipping them, as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Can you get the honey for me please?” he asked.

Upon his request you turned to look at the cupboards, trying to remember where you kept the honey. Your kitchen was just yours in name, it belonged to Joaquin and Shang Chi.

As you turned back to confess your failure, you found him inches away, his hand reaching for the cabinet above your head, his gaze locked on yours.

His eyes flickered down to your lips and then to your eyes, and you blinked to see if this was real.

“We’re friends, yeah?” you asked, your voice raw with a sincerity you hadn’t intended.

“Friends,” he replied, his gaze returning to your lips.

“Just friends?” you pressed, the memory of last night’s intimacy, the way he held you, replaying in your mind.

“Yeah, just friends,” he huffed, stepping back, the honey bottle now in his hand. You stood frozen, unsure of what to do next.

He turned off the stove, grabbed his jacket from the couch, and headed for the door. “Joaquin…” you called after him, your voice barely a whisper.

“See you at the compound,” he said, slamming the door and leaving without a backward glance.

—/—/—

“Dude! Could you stop!” Kate jumped on the couch to reach Peter, who was sitting upside down on the ceiling, holding her book.

“That's an unfair advantage!” Kamala spoke up, unimpressed, scrolling through her phone sitting next to you and eating chips.

The young avengers were perched around the common room relaxing before facing God knows what awaited them in Mexico. You were busy studying the profile of Maya Lopez, who also disappeared the day Kingpin did.

“Joaquin! A little help?” Kate shouts in his direction.

He was busy playing video games with Shang Chi, focused solely on the screen in front of him.

“I’m busy Kate.” He shouts, aggressively pressing the buttons on his console.

“Y/n!” Kate’s whines, “tell him to help!”

You closed your laptop to give an annoyed look to Kate, and stopped once you traced Joaquin already looking at you.

You haven’t talked since arriving at the compound, and now every time you look at his big brown eyes… This morning’s conversation makes a question linger in your mind; were you truly just friends?

It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s nothing…

“Hell yeah!” Shang-Chi screamed, raising his arms in victory as he won the game while Joaquin was distracted. Laughter sounded all around; you almost missed the ring of your phone.

You picked it up, without looking at who was calling.

“Hello?”

His voice made you freeze. It was jarring trying to be accustomed to listening to him after so long. Anytime you heard his voice through the phone it shocked you, as you had made peace with yourself over the fact that you would never hear his voice again.

Without a word you stood up from your place and went to the hallway, all while he spoke through the phone.

“What?” you exclaimed, trying to keep calm.

“Great way of greeting your older brother y/n.” His playful voice traveled through the call, and you could imagine his soft smile while he said that, always there to calm you through anything.

You sighed, “I’m older now, am I not?”

Connor was twenty and you were eighteen.

And now, you are twenty-three, a ghost of the girl you used to be.

Connor was still twenty.

Your family returning after the blip caused more damage to your life than when they vanished. Your brother and parents stayed the same. Meeting them after they returned turned your life upside down for the second time in five years.

“Mom misses you. Dad too.” He says, sadness laced in his voice.

“Didn’t seem like they missed me much the last time I was there.” You leaned on the wall behind, taking a deep breath as you recalled what had happened mere months ago.

“I know you’re hurting bug-“

“Don’t call me that.” You cut him off, hearing your childhood nickname after so long, “weren’t you going back to Georgetown?”

“I am… just… wanted to meet you before I do.” He says, “I’ll make dinner. Just the four of us.”

“I don’t want to have dinner with mom and dad. Is this their idea? forcing you to call me home and scream at me?” you say, the memories of your family’s last meeting haunting you.

The living room air crackled with a rage you knew too well.

"The hell you mean you won't come back home?" your father bellowed, his southern drawl sharpening with each word, a familiar sign of his disappointment. He watched you, a rigid figure, as you hauled your luggage towards the door.

"Is there anything to come back to?" you asked, your voice flat, the question hanging in the charged atmosphere. Your gaze, heavy with weariness, met his.

The sting of your mother’s slap registered before the sound, a sharp, brutal end to the argument.

"Ma! Don't!" Connor’s voice, raw with alarm, pierced the silence.

You turned, your eyes locking with your mother's, the same eyes reflected back at you in the mirror every morning, now twisted with a venomous anger. "Get out of my house," she hissed, her voice a low, guttural threat. "You ain't no daughter of mine."

A coldness settled over you, "You should check the registry before you say that, Ma," you retorted, the words laced with a bitter edge. You turned on your heel, heading for the rented pickup, refusing to witness their reactions.

The engine roared to life against the silence of the driveway. You slammed the accelerator.

"Bug! Wait!" your brother's desperate cry echoed against the hum of the engine, but you didn't slow down. The road blurred through the tears streaming down your face, the pain a burning ache in your chest, your family farm a blur around you.

You cried harder as you saw him, a small, desperate figure running after the truck, calling you by the name only he used, a name that now felt like a cruel mockery of a bond you could never go back to.

“It was my idea.” Your brother sighed, he sounded tired, “I miss you.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow for a mission. I can’t” you state, waiting for a response. All you got was silence on the other end.

“Okay… Stay safe y/n.” he finally says with sadness laced in his tone

“You too.” You say, your thumb hovering over the end call button. Your throat tightened to say you’d meet him when you’re back.

But he cut the call.

You looked at the empty screen of your phone when it turned black, at the face that resembled so much to your brother. You were inseparable since forever, no fight you had ever lasted this long.

This was the only way you could move on. The only way you both could move on.

You sniffled away the tears and walked to the hanger, just to do a final check of everything before leaving tomorrow.

Too caught up in your head, you missed the sound of footsteps that had followed you there.

--------

It was D-Day.

People around you were running wild. Checking equipment, weapons, and the old unused Quinjet that was the only thing big enough to fit everyone.

“You good?” Bucky’s voice forced you to tear your eyes away from Joaquin talking with Sam.

“Yeah, all good.” You reply too quickly for his liking, trying to look busy with your laptop doing a final check.

"You know," Bucky said in a hushed voice, leaning towards you, "I thought you'd be more into bad boys. Never thought of you with the goody-two-shoes lieutenant."

Your head whipped around so fast, you feared you’d given yourself whiplash. With wide eyes and a racing heart, you fumbled for words, "What—I—Bucky, no, we're friends—there's—"

"I live right across you, Y/N," he interrupted, pointing at you with a knowing smirk. "I've seen him sneak in and out of yours at all hours for you two to be 'just friends.'" to your horror, he did finger quotes at ‘just friends’.

You groan, looking at the skies above.

“Who else knows?” you grit through your teeth.

“Just me for now… but others have suspected.” he had the audacity to giggle after he said that.

You debate if this was too late to drown yourself in the nearby pool.

He claps a hand on your shoulder, “hey, I’m glad. It’s good you found someone in your life.”

“When will you find Sam in your bed?” you tease him, a desperate attempt to change the topic.

It worked because he turned red and walked away, “You are a menace.”

“Why thank you.” You shout back.

<< Chapter 1 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 3 >>

Series Masterlist

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

Taglist

@summersblogsthings @supportourgoddesses @iamthebeth @bvckys-doll @obxfan2854 @sugar-crisps @yikesdameron @rawecreek @fluffyprettykitty @dance-is-life27

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sarahcmarie · 24 days ago

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Just saw captain America brave new world

And during the scene Joaquín was falling I wonder what was going on in Sam’s mind he lost Riley his partner in the military he lost Steve after endgame that must’ve been terrifying

Especially losing Joaquin in such similar way to Riley losing another friend the same way and still not being able to save them even as captain America he almost lost another friend the fear he must’ve felt

#I know the movie came out a month ago let me have my fun #and by fun I mean angst #I was sitting in the theater watching this scene and the angst that I was imagining #sam wilson #captain america #joaquin torres #cabnw

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tom-whore-dleston · 1 year ago

Text

Alma Bella

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x f. reader

Word Count: 1.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Amor, is everything alright?”

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

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

“What? Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please tell me we are getting massages!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you, mi amor?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you have no idea, baby.”

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

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

“Joaquin, we can’t fuck here.”

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

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

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

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header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

#request fulfilled ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ #spotify wrapped 2023 🎵#navy and roo's sleepover #typesoflovesleepover #joaquin torres #the falcon #danny ramirez #tfatws #falcon and the winter soldier #captain america new world order #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #the falcon x reader #joaquin torres fluff #joaquin torres smut #joaquin torres angst #joaquin torres imagine #joaquin torres fanfic #joaquin torres fic

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