#joaquin torres is so done

[heartswarm-void]

“Torres, please tell Birdbrain he forgot to pack the binoculars,” Bucky mutters, clearly annoyed. Joaquín shrugs.

—

“Yo, Torres, tell Robocop the extraction site’s changed. I’ll send the coordinates.” Joaquín sighs, rolling his eyes.

—

“Torres, would you please—”

“Jesus Christ, you guys know we’re all on comms, right? You don’t have to drag me into your lovers’ quarrel, I’m not a hotdog in the middle of your buns!” Joaquín screams, utterly done. There’s a long pause.

“Hotdog? Buns? That’s a strange metaphor, Torres,” Bucky remarks, matter-of-factly.

“I concur. That’s fucking weird,” Sam chimes in.

Joaquín does a facepalm. Kids these days.

[backtothefanfiction]

Sleep Talking | Joaquin Torres

Summary; Joaquin could never keep a secret.

Warnings: none, this is all fluff

A/N: I couldn’t sleep until I’d put something out so yeah, this is just a real quick short before bed kind of story. I’ll get back on my asks/wips/part 2s of stuff tomorrow. For now, enjoy this. Also sorry I haven’t done tags it’s late and I’m tired so hope this finds you fine.

You woke unable to breathe. “Ouch, Joaquin,” you grumbled as your mind and body slowly dragged itself from sleep.

“Huh?” He grumbled sleepily.

“Baby, you’re squishing me.”

“What?” he groaned, but you could tell he was only half awake.

“Roll over. You’re squishing me. And you’re making me feel like I’m sleeping with a freaking radiator. Jeez.” you moaned as he shifted slightly and you truly felt how stifling it had become under the covers.

“It’s not me. It’s you,” he sleepily grumbled. You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he grumbled another response. “No.” he said with a sigh as he rolled back over onto his back on his pillow. “It was you. I know you ate my sandwich.” he mumbled.

Sandwich? What was he- ohhh, he’s sleep talking.

You chuckled to yourself as you rolled over onto your side to watch him sleep. Every now and again his lips would silently move to talk again, but it was mostly silent. You were just about to close your eyes and go back to sleep when you heard the words, “Because I’m going to marry her.”

There was a pause as if he was listening to someone else speak before he said, “What do you mean who? Y/N who else. I’ve already got the ring. I’ve been keeping it in my underwear drawer for weeks now.”

You were suddenly wide awake. You didn’t know if it was just the dream or if there was some actual truth to it and his subconscious was bleeding through. But there was one thing for sure, you weren’t going back to sleep until you knew for sure.

You tried to be as quiet as you possibly could as you crept out of bed, reaching for your phone and turning on the torch. Your feet padded quietly across the floor as Joaquin continued to let out small little murmurs. Every tiny shift you made to open the drawer sounded like thunder in your ears and you desperately hoped he wouldn’t wake up and catch you in the act. You gave one last quick tug on the old dresser drawer and there it was. Barely concealed by a pair of underpants, a square blue box.

You stood frozen in agony as you warred with yourself over what to do. Did you look and ruin the surprise completely or did you pretend you didn’t know it was there and climb back into bed. But you couldn’t help it. Now you knew of its existence, it was going to be burning a hole in the back of your head. You just wanted to be sure he picked a good ring, you tried to reason with yourself. You could be a good actress. You could still look surprised. You tried to rationalise as your fingers pulled out the velvet box. I mean he’s asleep, he’s not gonna know. You thought.

“Baby? What are you doing?” Joaquin asked, his voice hoarse with sleep. You looked at him guiltily. This was no sleep talking, he was well and truly awake now, sitting upright in bed as his eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the light of your torch in the dim room. That’s when he looked at your hands. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed. “Baby, I- wait, how did you-“ he paused as you continued to stand at the end of the bed frozen. Then he realised. “I was sleep talking.”

“Yes.” you finally said softly.

He groaned in frustration. “My mom said I could never keep a secret. I just wished for once I could have kept this one.”

“It’s alright,” you said.

“Did you look?” he asked.

“Not yet.” you replied. Your answer brought a soft smile to his face and he silently beckoned you over to sit with him.

“You know, I was waiting to do this on that trip to New York we were gonna take in a couple of weeks.” he began to explain, “but I guess this is good too.” Although it was dark in the room, you could tell he was beginning to blush as he took the box from your fingers.

“Y/N,” he said as his fingers deftly removed the ring from the box before he set it to one side. He tucked the ring into his fingers so you couldn’t see it just yet before he shuffled closer to you to continue his speech. “I have been in love with you from the minute I laid eyes on you. You can ask any of the boys, the second I saw you I said, that’s her, that’s the girl I’m going to marry. And of course they didn’t believe me, but I knew. You’ve been there with me for everything. Every hard day. Every promotion. You were always there to be my light and cheer me on.” he said, his voice shaking slightly with nerves. “You make every single day of my life, so much brighter and I don’t ever want to think of a day when you don’t wake up by my side. Y/N, will you do me, the greatest honour of my whole life,” he said, finally holding out the ring to you. “Will you marry me?”

It may have been 4am. It may have been in the dark of the night and extremely unconventional, but it was Joaquin. And you were always going to say yes to Joaquin.

[nolita-fairytale]

and for us, it won't be long | joaquin torres x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: after joaquin's accident, you reconnect with your childhood friend

warnings: hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, eventual smut, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, swearing, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers

word count: 2.7k

a/n: so i think this is a small cute mini series of exactly 3 parts. i haven't written a fic in a while so this is wild but i'm happy to be here. the title of this fic is from baynk's song, grin.

read chapter two here

You watch him fall out of the sky on national television, the footage juxtaposed with an exterior shot of the Walter Reed Military Medical Center that’s got been stock footage, resulting in the world’s worst case of emotional whiplash. The news anchor’s voice is clear—reassuring, even—as he explains the situation: 

An accident involving the Falcon. 

In critical condition. 

The new Captain America at his side.

Hopeful. 

It’s the word he keeps repeating. 

The doctors are hopeful. 

But his words are lost on you, traveling in through one ear and out through another. In a state of shock, you’re only able to comprehend bits and pieces because watching the man you’ve known for most of your life soar through the air—not to mention, in flames—and plummet straight into the Indian Ocean, makes you feel like you’re going to pass out. 

It’s not like you expect for him to pick up—but you’re calling Joaquin’s phone, your heart practically beating out of your chest like he could—because there isn’t much else you feel like you can do. Besides, if, when he wakes up, you want him to know that you’ll be there.

You get his voicemail. 

Of course. 

But you can’t sit with this alone.

So you call your mom. And then his. And then three of you hold each other through the phone like he held your father all five years through The Blip. 

And when all is said and done, after days of agonizing nothingness, you get a text from his mother saying: 

He’s going to be okay. 

*

It’s the seventh time in the last ten minutes that Sam sees the screen of Joaquin’s phone flash upwards toward the hospital ceiling, signaling that he’s got yet another notification. 

“You should give ‘em a call,” Sam encourages.

Joaquin shoots a quizzical look to the man he’s looked up to his whole life, as Sam nods towards the cell phone once again, clarifying his previous statement with: “Your family, Torres. And whoever else’s been blowin’ your phone all day.” 

His face falls. 

The doctors had called to let his family know that he had made it through a successful surgery, and that he was going to be okay, but he hadn’t reached out just yet. Hell, he was almost grateful that his phone had been dead for days, crossing his fingers that the hospital wouldn’t find a spare charger. But then Sam came in this morning, brand new phone charger in hand, forcing Joaquin to return to reality: an overwhelm of missed calls and texts.

“I don’t-, I… I don’t want to worry them,” Joaquin hesitates, the disappointment in himself evident in how cautious he is. It’s why he’s been putting it off. He can’t seem to beat the nagging feeling that he should’ve done some differently—something so he didn’t have to make this kind of call. 

But he knows he’ll have to face the music sooner or later. 

“What-? What do I say? What am I supposed to tell them?” he asks earnestly, searching the face of his mentor for any kind of guidance. 

“Tell ‘em you’re gonna be okay,” Sam replies gently, the reassurance in his words allowing the obvious to land a little softer than it would had he chosen a different path. Joaquin nods slowly in response, reaching for the phone on his hospital bedside table. 

With a sigh and a heaviness he can’t yet name, Joaquin begins to scroll through the notifications. While he expects to see calls and texts from his parents, extended family members he hasn’t spoken to in years, he doesn’t expect to see 5 missed calls and 3 texts from you. 

Sam watches carefully as a look of surprise washes over his friend, colleague, and wingman’s face, and there’s something different about his reaction when his thumb hovers over your messages. 

“I’ll give you a few minutes, man,” Sam bows out, respectfully. 

*

When Joaquin finally texts you, it’s just a stupid GIF of a zombie rising from the grave. You’re less than amused by his humor at a time like this, but your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest as you see that the notification is from him. 2:08 pm 

You: Not funny, asshole! We’ve all been worried sick. 2:10 pm 

Joaquin: 😣You talked to my mom?!

2:15 pm 

You: 🖕Fuck off. You know Lydia likes me more than you. 

2:16 pm 

Joaquin: 💔

Savage. 

2:16 pm 

I’m jk. Mom told me how wonderful you’ve been with her and Dad. Thank you. 🙏

2:22 pm 

You: I’m just glad you’re okay. 

2:30 pm 

Joaquin: 😅

2:30 pm 

You: Can I call you later? 

2:31 pm 

Joaquin: Yeah :)

*

You’ve never been this girl: the girl that waits by the phone for some guy to text her.

But in the days following Joaquin’s accident, you have to remind yourself that the fact that you’re practically glued to your phone waiting for updates is just a result of the fact that you could’ve lost him. 

Besides, he’s not just some guy. It’s Joaquin: he’s the neighborhood kid you grew up with, the sweet seventeen year-old boy who took you to your senior prom, and the man that both of your mothers still swear to this day that you’ll marry. 

It’s Captain America—Sam, he insists that you call him—who eventually puts you out of your misery by inviting you to see Joaquin, when he notices his wingman’s recovery is going better and better all thanks to his mysterious pen pal. 

“I know kids these days can’t get off their phones, but something’s telling me there’s a cute girl on the other end, Buck,” Sam mentions over the phone one day, when the latter asks him about Joaquin’s recovery. “Hey, I’m not mad at it! Seems like it’s helping him.”

“Kid’s gotta girl?” Bucky asks from somewhere along the campaign trail, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he inquires further. “There’s only one way to find out,” Sam shrugs with a little mischief in his voice. 

It’s not hard to swipe Joaquin’s phone, considering his recovery still requires lots and lots of rest. The last thing you had expected that day was a call from Captain America himself—from Joaquin’s phone, no less—asking you to come to DC to reunite with your childhood friend. 

What’s even more shocking is the fact that it’s Sam Wilson himself, who’s there to meet you at the hospital. You try to keep your cool as you introduce yourself, but you can’t shake the giddy feeling of excitement that fills you upon meeting the Avenger you and Joaquin used to see on TV. He leads you down the long hospital hallways, warning you quietly that Joaquin was pretty badly injured, and he may have a little more wear and tear than you expected. 

You don’t mean to gasp, but your sharp intake of breath upon seeing him in his hospital bed isn’t exactly subtle. Your eyes trace over him worriedly, as you take in the burn scars on his neck and the still-healing cuts and scrapes on his face. It’s the moment you realize that, since making the choice to join The Avengers, your superhero friend is not so invincible. 

“What’re you-?” Joaquin balks, speechless at the sight of you. He looks from you to Sam, then back to you, before returning to Sam once more, his eyes landing on the man like he’s Benedict Arnold. “Sam, you didn’t-. How did you-? You called her?!” 

“Wasn’t hard to swipe your phone when you need a nap every 2 hours,” Sam replies casually, as if he isn’t acting like the world’s most embarrassing dad right now. “And I got tired of watching you wait by the phone all day for your girl to finally text you.”

“Oh my god!” Joaquin groans, at the very same time you let out a:

“Oh he’s not my-!” 

“Dude, we’re not-,” Joaquin gestures towards you in a panic, as he searches for the right words, saying a silent prayer that he can get out at least one full-finished sentence. “I’m not like, waiting by the phone but It’s not like I can go anywhere right now, man!” Sam chuckles only to be met with a very dramatic eye roll from Joaquin as he tries to defend himself. 

“Listen, we’re old friends. We’ve just been catching up,” he tries to explain again, gesturing towards you once more. 

Sam smirks, uttering an unconvinced, “Sure. Well, whoever she is or isn’t to you… seems like she’s been helping your recovery. Thought it couldn’t hurt.” 

You laugh, exchanging a look with Joaquin. 

“I still can’t believe you called her,” Joaquin shakes his head, still trying his best to process this. 

“Well, of course he called me, Torres, considering you’ve always been shit at asking for help,” you finally chime in, with a ball-busting attitude he’s missed. 

“Oh shit,” Sam says, looking from you back to Joaquin as he waits for a reaction. 

Joaquin grins, gearing up to explain: “When she feels threatened, she has a tendency to lash out.” 

Sam chuckles. 

“Feisty. I like it," he smirks with a nod of approval. And he knows that this that’s his cue. It’s time to give you kids some time alone. “Imma step out for a second. You guys… catch up. Or whatever.” 

You press your lips together, stifling another laugh, and waiting a beat as Sam disappears. 

“Dude,” you start, taking a few steps closer to Joaquin, with a look of disbelief.

“Dude,” Joaquin mimics you, unable to hide the smile on his face upon seeing you. 

“That’s like… Captain America,” you nod towards the hallway as you take a few more steps forward. 

“I know,” Joaquin says back, an excitement between the two of you. 

“Captain fucking America,” you emphasize.. 

You’ve really been doing the best to keep your cool, but you’re not sure you can contain it any longer. 

“I know!” he fanboys with you this time, because Joaquin still can’t believe this is real either. 

That he works with Sam Wilson. That he’s Captain America’s wingman. That you’re here, in DC, with him. 

It’s as if a piece of home has joined him for the first time in a long time in this new chapter of his life. 

The two of you exchange another smile and a wave of relief washes over you. 

You take a beat and one step closer to him, sitting down in the chair next to his hospital bed. You shake your head and this time, the expression on your face goes from soft to a much more hardened and worried look. 

“Joaquin,” you start, the tone of your voice a warning enough. 

“Oh God,” he sighs, recognizing that tone. 

“I could kill you,” you threaten, the next part reinforcing his more than accurate evaluation of you from earlier. “But clearly you don’t need my help.” 

“Well, I did technically die,” he parries, light heartedly. 

“Joaquin!” You interject, your voice going up in pitch as you cut him off. 

“What? You scared you’d miss me or something?” he teases, meeting your fire with his. 

“Oh fuck off,” you scoff, with a shake of your head. “It’s not-, don’t joke about that! It’s not funny!” 

“Didn’t you just threaten me with-?” he continues, knowing all the buttons to press. 

“Yeah, but it’s different when I-. Didn’t you just say that I have a tendency of lashing out when I feel threatened?” you snap, the worry in your voice enough to get him to stop. 

You sigh, your eyes scanning him once more, because maybe it would be easier if he really were invincible.

You take a beat, and the two of you share a full silence between you. It’s comfortable, yet filled with ‘what ifs’ neither of you want to acknowledge. 

“I can’t believe Sam stole my phone and called you,” Joaquin shakes his head this time, groaning again because Captain America really should be renamed to America’s Most Embarrassing Dad for this. “How did you get here so fast, anyway? My parents won’t even arrive till tomorrow.” 

“Oh I uh-. Well, you’ve been busy saving the world so I haven’t exactly been able to tell you,” you reply, realizing that it hadn’t even come up in conversation via text yet. “I moved to Philly a few months ago.” 

“Philly?” Joaquin asks, a little surprised, because he’s not sure he could picture you anywhere that has a properly cold Winter season. “Yeah,” you chuckle, immediately recognizing his look. “I had to buy my first Winter coat this year but… the trade off is that I’m only an hour train ride away from you now.”

His face lights up as soon as you spell it out for him. 

“Well, my parents are coming in tomorrow. Are you-, think you’ll be around?” he asks, hopefully. 

“Do you want me to be?” you ask in return. 

He nods, “Yeah. Think they’d like to see you.” “Okay,” you agree softly. “I’ll stay.” 

A beat. 

And another silence between the two of you, one that feels much heavier than the last. 

“You could’ve died, Joaquin,” you state quietly. 

“I know,” he replies, the guilt evident in his voice. 

You could’ve-,” you begin to repeat, your voice breaking this time. 

“I know,” he says again, much firmer as he reassures you. “But I didn’t. And we’re here now.” 

He reaches for your hand, and you’re almost angry with the way your body betrays you. With tears in your eyes you look back at him, shaking your head. 

“Goddamit,” you swear with a small laugh. “You’re the one who gets hurt yet you’re here comforting me.”

He shakes his head this time, squeezing your hand as he smiles, “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.” A beat. “But I’m still gonna kill Sam.”

You laugh, wiping a few tears out of your eyes with your free hand. 

“And yeah. I would,” you finally admit, your voice soft. 

“Hm?” Joaquin asks, his lashes heavy as he blinks, taking you in. 

“I would really, really miss you,” you answer, a vulnerability in your voice this time that you’re quick to put an end to. “So don’t fucking do this shit again!” 

Joaquin laughs as he squeezes your hand once more, knowing it’s not a promise he can make to either of you. 

*

9:45 am 

Joaquin: Mom and Dad left yesterday and Mom told me to tell you that she misses you already. 

10:01 am 

You: You can just admit that you miss me already. 

10:03 am 

Joaquin: 🤐

Thanks though. I think they’re a little less worried now that they know you’re close by. 

10:08 am 

You: How’s it going? 

10:13 am 

Joaquin: Good! I got discharged a few days ago and am heading to Wakanda in a few weeks. 

New suit! 🦸

The last time you see me can’t be in a hospital gown. 

10:15 am 

You: I don’t know why you’d say that! It’s a great look for you. 

10:20 am 

Joaquin: 🙄

Guess I should’ve swiped one from the hospital to wear all the time.

What’re you doing next weekend? 

10:21 am 

You: Nothing. What’s up? 

10:30 am 

Joaquin: What do you think about me coming to Philly? 

10:31 am

You: To visit me? Or just because?

10:32 am Joaquin: Yes to visit you 😆

Thought we could hang out before I go.

10:33 am 

You: Yeah! I know it’s only an hour train ride in and out, but I’ve got a super comfy couch you can crash on if you want. 

So that’s an option. 

The next text you receive is a selfie of him, wearing a plain grey crewneck sweater. 

You laugh. The guy loves a good selfie. 

10:40 am

Joaquin: 1 photo attached

Rocky ain’t ready for this 

10:43 am 

You: LOL 

Please don’t tell me you’re coming to Philly so you can recreate the Rocky training montage.

And if you’re wondering, I will not be partaking. You’re on your own with that one. 

But yeah, I’d be happy to host you! 

10:48 am 

Joaquin: Deal. 

I’ll call you later. We can work out the details :) 

11:00 am 

You: Deal :)

[astraljedi]

He is in love (Joaquin Torres Imagine)

Request: I love angst as much as the next person but I need a Joaquin Torres domestic imagine where he's so in love with reader and they have a healthy relationship

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Female reader

Warnings: Male provider trope, mention of alcohol. This is mostly fluff, just a loving boyfriend who loves spoiling his girlfriend.

Word Count: 3.33K

Song: You Are In Love by Taylor Swift

A/N: Ugh, I love me some sweet requests like this one! Let me know what you guys think 🫶🏻 -

And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

“Breakfast was delicious.” I smile as Joaquin presses a kiss to my cheek. I grab the plate from his hands and place it in the sink with the other dishes I’m currently washing.

“What’s the plan for today?” he asks, nuzzling his face into my neck and leaving soft, wet kisses on my skin. His arms wrap around my waist, holding me close, not wanting to let go even as I move to load the dishwasher.

“First, I have a pilates class at eight, then I need to stop by the supermarket for some groceries.” I turn to face him once I’m done putting away the dishes, looping my arms around his neck.

“Skip the supermarket—we can go together tomorrow after work.”

“Yes sir.” I smile, stepping up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Today’s your brunch date with the girls?” Joaquin pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and hands me his silver credit card.

“Baby, you don’t have to.”

“Don’t start with me, baby.” He pulls me back into his chest. “I want you to indulge and have fun with the girls. Don’t let them split the check.”

“You spoil me so much.”

“And I love spoiling you.” He kisses the back of my hand with a horrible posh accent. “Tell Simone I hope she had a great time on her honeymoon, but I’m stealing her husband next football Sunday.”

“We already know it.” I roll my eyes playfully. You really can’t come between those two and their Sunday football traditions.

Joaquin throws on his army jacket and heads toward the front door. “By the way, I filled your tank yesterday after I finished washing your car.” He grabs his keys from the small bowl by the door like he always does.

“Thank you! I totally forgot I was supposed to get gas on Friday before coming home.”

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I like taking care of you.” He gives me a look, reaching for my hand reassuringly. “What’s the point of being your man if I’m not making your life easier?”

I tug on the ends of my red jacket, already zipped halfway over my matching sports bra. “I don’t know what I did before I met you.”

We walk out the driveway and to his car still holding hands, the morning air still crisp. 

My tiny red shorts don’t do much for warmth—but they do something to Joaquin. He keeps sneaking glances at me from the corner of his eye.

“You’re so bad at being subtle.” I giggle, my cheeks blushing. I can’t even blame him—I’m just as bad. I can’t help staring at him either. He wears the same uniform every day and it still drives me absolutely insane. There’s just something about seeing him in his army getup every morning and evening. It never gets old.

He opens the driver’s side door but doesn’t get in yet. Instead, he turns to me, pulling me in by the waist. “I can’t help it. I gotta get my fill of you for the day to survive my long work hours.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” I look up at him, laughing softly, right before one of his hands slips from my waist to grip my ass.

“Baby, the neighbors,” I warn, trying to hide my smile.

His lips brush mine, and I think it’s going to be a sweet, quick goodbye kiss—until it’s not. Suddenly I’m on my toes, hands in his hair, his mouth moving against mine like we’re teenagers making out in the driveway after curfew. His fingers slip just under the hem of my jacket, warm and gentle on my lower back, and for a second I consider dragging him back inside and making him even more late to work.

When we finally pull away, I’m breathless. He tucks a rogue piece of hair behind my ear and grins, boyish and smug.

“Let me know when you leave to meet up with the girls.”

“I will.” I steal one last kiss before he hops into his car. “I love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” He shoots me a wink before backing out of the driveway. I’m smiling like a complete idiot.

When I turn around to walk back into the house, my eyes meet our grumpy old lady neighbor across the street. Mrs. Riley is standing on her porch, arms crossed, already shaking her head in disapproval at our early morning makeout session.

“Good morning, Mrs. Riley,” I call out sweetly, trying not to laugh as she mutters something under her breath. I walk back inside and shut the door behind me, still grinning, trying to calm my racing heart.

By the time my pilates class wraps up, I already have my outfit picked out in my head for brunch with the girls. Mia—my very pregnant best friend—and I went to the mall last Friday, and I found the perfect dress for our monthly get-together.

I shower quickly to wash off the post-pilates sweaty and sticky feeling off my skin. Once I’m clean and dry, I slip into the buttery yellow sundress and tie the dainty straps into delicate little bows on top of my shoulders. The corseted midi dress fits like a glove and pairs perfectly with my favorite platform sandals. It’s perfect for our late brunch reservation and I can’t wait to wear it more next spring.

I grab my phone and walk out of the walk-in closet, heading over to the big mirror tucked into the corner of our master bedroom. I angle my body just a little, sliding one leg forward to show a peek of skin through the slit in the dress. I snap a quick picture and send it to Joaquin.

Leaving soon, love you 💋

His response comes almost instantly—except it’s not a text. It’s a FaceTime call.

The moment his face pops up on my screen and he gets a good look at me, he lets out a low whistle while I show off my outfit with a spin.

“Te ves hermosa, como siempre,” he murmurs into the phone, clearly hiding somewhere in his shared office.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working, Lieutenant?”

“Yeah, but you decided to send me a picture of you in that dress. You’re killing me, baby,” he says, leaning back dramatically in his chair.

“I think you’ll survive, handsome.” I giggle, grabbing my purse from the bed and adjusting the strap over my shoulder.

“I can’t even begin to say the things running through my head right now.” He groans, running a hand down his face. “But if I want to buy you hundreds of dresses like that, I have to keep working. Have fun, sweetheart.”

“I will! And try not to stare at the picture all day. You actually have to get back to work.”

I hear voices in the background, someone entering the room, and Joaquin glances over his shoulder.

“Now I really have to go,” he sighs. “Call me if you need anything.”

I blow him a kiss through the screen before ending the call, my mood lighter than before.

The girls and I usually have brunch at our favorite spot downtown called Oliver. For a Monday, the front patio is surprisingly full, but I head straight inside and make my way toward the back patio where we always sit—our usual reserved table waiting for us.

Oliver has seen us through every season of our lives. When Tiana passed the bar exam. Mia’s first baby shower, three years ago. The day after Simone got engaged to Marcus, two years ago. So many memories tied to this place. And today, for our monthly catch-up, we’re celebrating Simone’s return from her month-long honeymoon in Europe.

“You’re late,” Mia points out, classic Virgo, she never changes.

“I’m sorry,” I say, pulling out a chair and slipping into it. “I had to stop by the florist to pay the deposit for your baby shower.”

“Girl, is that the dress you bought last Friday?” Tiana whistles, raising her champagne glass to me. I laugh and nod—of course she remembers. I sent them a minute-long video haul in the group chat the second I got home.

“Lucky for us Joaquin’s at work,” she teases. “He wouldn’t let you leave the house for days if he saw you in that dress.”

“I sent him a pic and he didn’t even hesitate to FaceTime me like two seconds later.” I grin as the waiter sets a mimosa down in front of me. “Thanks,” I tell him, then take a quick sip.

“Ugh, you guys are so gross.” Mia rolls her eyes playfully and takes a sip of her orange juice.

“Let her live, Mia,” Simone jumps in. “We had to deal with you and Andrew first and none of us complained.”

Tiana and I laugh with Simone as Mia shrugs, pretending like she has no idea what we’re talking about.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” she says, all innocent.

“Oh, Andrew baby, I miss you already,” I say in my best impression of Mia, dramatically grabbing Tiana’s hands across the table.

“Mia, I can’t wait to kiss every freckle on your beautiful face,” Tiana adds, joining in with her own over-the-top impersonation of Mia and Andrew’s honeymoon phase (which, honestly, never ended).

“Oh shut it, people are staring.” Mia throws a piece of bread at us, laughing.

“How’s my baby shower coming along?” she asks, switching topics before we get even more dramatic.

“The flowers and décor are ordered. I’m just waiting on the quote from the company renting the chairs and tables, but mostly everything’s on schedule.” I rattle it off like a checklist, gasping a little once I reach the end. I finish my mimosa and glance at the menu, even though I already know what I’m going to order. I get the same thing every time.

“Andrew and I finished the guest list. Remind me to send it to you later,” Mia says, reaching for her orange juice.

“How do you feel after a month-long honeymoon?” I ask Simone, who’s sitting across from me.

“It was amazing! We went to that restaurant you and Joaquin recommended in Rome—it was so good, we actually went again before leaving for Spain.”

“It’s so good, and the owners are the sweetest,” I add, smiling.

The rest of brunch flows the way it always does with laughter echoing around our table, plates filled with delicious food, and us reminiscing about college and diving into girl talk. Eventually, the waiter sets the bill down, and before anyone can argue, I grab it and slide Joaquin’s card into the little black folder.

“What?” I ask, noticing the three of them smirking at me.

“Oh, nothing,” Simone says, the first to speak. “Just make sure to thank Joaquin for brunch.”

“She didn’t even look at the total,” Tiana points out with a laugh.

“Why would she?” Mia chuckles. “Her man loves spoiling her.”

“As he should,” they all say in unison, like it’s rehearsed. I try to laugh it off, but I can already feel the warmth creeping into my cheeks.

“Our girl is in love,” Tiana sings, just a little too happy from the mimosas.

“You’re the last one of us who hasn’t gotten engaged yet,” Simone says. “What’s he waiting for?”

“We’ve talked about it,” I say, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “But we just want to enjoy the house for a while. Maybe down the line, ring shopping could be on the table.”

Everyone’s always asking when we’re getting married, when we’re having a baby—but honestly, the stress of closing on the house was enough. Joaquin and I just want to enjoy what we’ve built for a little while before the next big thing.

“It’s been more than a year since you guys moved in,” Mia says, more to herself than to anyone.

“Yeah, but it hasn’t been a year since Joaquin fully recovered from his injuries from that assignment,” I begin, my tone softening. “My fear is that he could get shipped out at any time and I need the security of knowing he’s coming home. I don’t think I can go through what happened last time again.”

The lump in my throat is familiar. So is the weight pressing on my chest.

“Honey,” Simone says gently. She and Mia reach out to grab my hands, and Tiana wraps an arm around my shoulder.

“Have you talked to him about this?” Simone asks.

I nod. “He knows he can’t promise me that kind of security. And I don’t want to be the reason he stops doing what he’s been dreaming of for years. He was so excited when he got that ridiculous suit,” I say, smiling through the ache.

“We’re here for you,” Mia adds softly.

“Thank you, guys.” I exhale, offering a small smile. Even though they can’t fully understand what it’s like, just having them by my side means everything.

After brunch, I need to turn off the racing thoughts and anxiety. I send a quick text to Joaquin:

Just got home and the girls say thank you for brunch today. I’m feeling a little off so I’m going to disconnect for a while. Please let me know when you’re on your way home. Love you.

I change into a soft loungewear set—my favorite one—and head toward the sunroom. Even though Joaquin and I share a spacious office down the hall, something about the warm, golden light in this room helps me breathe easier. It’s become my little sanctuary for working, thinking, or just calming down when I feel overwhelmed.

I pull up the guest list Mia sent me on my laptop and dive into the never-ending to-do list for her baby shower. Before I know it, hours slip by. The sun’s dropped lower in the sky, filling the room with orange and pink hues as golden hour settles in. The soft light makes the space glow, and the record player blasts Taylor Swift’s How You Get The Girl at full volume—definitely not Mrs. Riley-approved. 

“Remind her how it used to be, yeahhh…” I sing along, completely off-key, dancing in place as my half-up hair swishes around my shoulders in soft waves. 

I don’t see Joaquin leaning against the doorway in his army uniform, cap tucked under one arm, while he leans on the doorframe. He doesn’t say a word. Admiring the sight in front of him.

I don’t even realize he’s there.

He stays that way for a while, just watching me in my little bubble—shoulders relaxed, focused, lost in creating something for someone I love. He always says how much he loves watching me work.

"The way your eyes shimmer, how you jump with excitement when something turns out just right—or even better. The way you pour your heart into everything you do… it’s something I’ll never stop falling for," he once said, back when I was planning Mia’s first baby shower. His words stuck with me—still do.

Then the next song starts.

You Are In Love.

“You can see it with the lights out, lights out… You are in love, true love…” I hum along, this time quieter, softer.

“And for once, you let go… of your fears and your ghosts…”

He exhales, quietly, still not wanting to interrupt. But he can’t help it. Not when I’m standing there in my soft two-piece set, glowing in the warm light, surrounded by music in my favorite place in the whole house.

He clears his throat, just loud enough for me to hear.

I jump, my hand flying to my chest. “Joaquin!”

He laughs softly, stepping into the room. “Didn’t mean to scare you, baby.”

“What time is it?” I ask, still a little breathless. “Aren’t you home early?”

“I am,” he says. “I got worried after I read your text. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He steps closer, the record still spinning behind me, humming through the speakers. He extends a hand and I take it, letting him gently pull me up from the floor. Without saying anything else, he wraps his arms around me, guiding my hand to his shoulder, his other hand finding the small of my back. He clasps my free hand in his, and I rest my head against his chest as we begin to sway, slow and easy.

And so it goes… You two are dancing in a snow globe, ’round' and ’round…

The song wraps around us, fading into the background as all I can hear is the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. I close my eyes, letting it ground me as we move gently in the same spot just the two of us.

“You’re exactly what I needed,” I say softly, looking up just as the next track begins to play. We stop swaying, but we don’t let go. We stay right there, in each other’s arms.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Maybe later,” I whisper. “I want to stay like this.”

He leans down and kisses me—long, deep, and slow. 

Then he whispers, “Over dinner? I brought dinner.”

I smile, my chest aching in that familiar way. “Sometimes I feel like you’re a dream and I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to get up and realize it was too good to be true.”

He pulls me even closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

A few weeks later

The backyard is filled with the laughter of kids running wild, family and friends catching up, and a very pregnant Mia sitting at a table, eating and looking completely over it. She’s glowing, but definitely tired of being pregnant. Meanwhile, Andrew is chasing after their three-year-old, Lily, who giggles every time she dodges his outstretched arms like it’s the best game in the world.

I sneak inside to grab more of the appetizers everyone’s loving. As I make my way into the kitchen, I glance out the window, watching the scene outside. My heart feels full. The kind of full that makes you pause and take it in, because it’s not always like this. But right now, it’s perfect.

“Finally, a moment alone with the woman I love,” Joaquin says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I smile instantly, resting my hands over his and leaning into his warmth.

“You okay?” he murmurs against my ear.

“Just recharging,” I answer, closing my eyes for a second. The sounds of kids’ laughter floating in from the yard melt away the last bits of stress I didn’t even realize I was still holding onto.

“Mia looks so done at this point with pregnancy,” Joaquin says, and we both laugh quietly.

“She does,” I nod. “But I know she loved everything. She cries every time she notices a new detail.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he chuckles.

I turn in his arms to face him, resting my forehead against his chest, my safe place. “Don’t tell her this, but I’m glad it’s almost over,” I laugh, low and tired. “I’m so tired.”

He kisses the top of my head, then rests his chin there, hugging me tighter. “After everyone leaves, you sit back and relax. Marcus and I are in charge of cleaning duty.”

Then, in a soft voice, he adds, “When we get married and fill this house with kids… I hope it feels exactly like this.”

It takes me a second to register what he just said. My breath catches, and I lift my head to look at him. My eyes search his, and I can already feel them welling up. The thought of him chasing after a mini version of us in this same backyard—it’s dizzying.

A little overwhelming and exciting at the same time.

It feels right. 

He catches the look on my face, his eyes soft as he takes it all in too. 

“I hope so too,” I whisper.

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

i know love // joaquin torres

Summary: Having been raised in the Red Room, people would expect you to be ruthless and cold. Your vulnerability surfaces when a conversation topic is brought up during dinner, and you need to have a difficult conversation with Joaquín.  

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Ex-Widow!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of brainwashing and killing, mentions of reader having an involuntary hysterectomy in the red room, mentions of dreykov, reader doesn't know how to deal with her emotions, mentions of adoption, angst, hurt/comfort, but a happy ending!!

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @heybaynoot for proofreading this!

This is my first time writing for Joaquín, I probably got him OOC a bit, but hope you guys like this one! Oh, and I have more in store for Joaquín & BlackWidow!Reader so stay tuned!

marvel masterlist | main masterlist

It was an offhand comment.

This wasn’t something you should be overthinking.

Any other woman in your situation would have been thrilled. And that was the problem—you weren't like other women. And no, this wasn't meant to be a compliment.

Your childhood and adolescence hadn’t been the most conventional. You knew it hadn’t been your fault; you never had a say in anything, yet it didn’t undo the knot in your stomach nor make the nightmares go away.

It had only been a few years since you'd begun to get your life back on track. Or, well, to build your own. One that actually felt like yours, where you were more than just the prisoner of a rich sadist.

When Yelena found you and freed your mind from their control, you were lost. Waking up was difficult. Facing the reality around you was puzzling, and you struggled with understanding your true identity. 

But that was ages ago. 

You have got your life on track since then.

And everything was going well. You could say you were happy for the first time in a long time. A fundamental pillar of that happiness was thanks to Joaquin.

When Sam introduced you, you never thought he would become such an important part of your life. Falling in love with him wasn't in your plans, but it had happened. And it was quite simple. That was one of the long list of special things about Joaquín—loving him was so easy.

From the first moment, you noticed the brightness he radiated. He was funny, kind, sweet, and smart. He had a charming personality, and it was literally impossible not to smile when he was around—and you weren't someone who was used to smiling, not before him at least.

He knew who you were and what you had done, and it had never been an issue for him. To be honest, his reaction when he met you was something you hadn't expected. He was thrilled and excited to officially meet an ex-widow. And, despite his obvious curiosity, he never asked anything about the Red Room. You assumed it was out of respect; perhaps he did not want you to remember Dreykov, the training, and the brainwashing.

And the killing.

And you had to admit you were delighted that the subject was never brought up.

He still complimented your fighting skills. Like, all the time. Looking like a proud boyfriend every time you kicked someone's ass. 

There was a moment, early in your relationship, when you realized it was him. You had never known love before—not that kind. And Joaquin's was the best first experience you could have asked for. You had been certain that he was going to be your first and last. You didn't want anyone else. Because no one would ever make you feel the way he did.

But now everything has crumbled.

Because of a single comment.

“We're going to have the cutest babies.”

The words had rolled off his tongue so easily.

And they had stabbed your heart in the same way.

Sarah had smiled at his words, Sam had rolled his eyes and made a witty remark, while you pressed your lips into a thin smile, and the conversation at the table just continued on.

But you couldn't shake off the feeling.

In all the time you had been dating Joaquín, the topic of having children had never been brought up. You thought it was because he knew. And he was being the considerate, thoughtful gentleman he was.

But now you were thinking that maybe Joaquín didn't know everything you went through in the Red Room.

You had the image of his happy face burned into your brain when he made the baby comment, and it only intensified the knotting in your stomach.

This happened two weeks ago, and since then, your mind has not stopped spinning in a whirlpool of thoughts and feelings. You didn't know how to deal with the situation. Well, technically, you did; you knew you had to talk to Joaquín. If the future he had planned for himself was to have a family, it was clear he was not going to have that with you.

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a grunt of resignation. You'd tried your best to leave the past behind you, just for it to come back, knocking on your door and hitting you with a harsh reminder that happiness was a luxury you couldn’t yet afford.

Something was going on.

And Joaquin had noticed this. 

You'd been acting odd, distant even, and he couldn't figure out why.

Had he done something that irked you?

Despite living together, over the past two weeks, you’ve been coming up with excuses to avoid spending time together, skipping your regular morning coffee dates, and missing movie nights. Even during your training sessions, your conversations felt minimal and strained.

But what hurt him the most was that whenever he attempted to reach out for you, you recoiled from his touch—something you never did before. 

You had always loved his clinginess. He felt the need to have a hand on you constantly. While other people had considered it annoying in the past, it never seemed to bother you. On the contrary, it seemed like you yearned for his touch just almost as he longed for yours.

When he mentioned the situation to Sam, the reaction he got was that he was reading too much into it and that maybe you just needed to have some space.

“Have you talked to her about it?”

No. He hadn’t. Because he was afraid he would get the answer his brain was already conjuring up. 

And he wasn’t ready for it.

Not that it mattered, because you started the conversation yourself that afternoon.                               

A sense of relief washed over him as he noticed you standing in the living room of your shared apartment.

Everything may be okay after all. 

Perhaps Sam was right, and you just needed space. 

However, the happiness was wiped from his face when he noticed the expression on your face, followed by the dreadful words, “We need to talk.”

Joaquín felt the air escape from his lungs. A lump formed in his throat as your words echoed in his head.  

‘We need to talk’. 

Those words almost always came before terrible news.

He searched your face for clues, any hint that this time might be different, but the seriousness in your eyes revealed everything he feared. 

“Can we sit down, please?” 

Joaquín nodded, swallowing hard as he followed you to the couch. You sat across from him, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, a subtle sign of your own unease. The cushions felt too soft, and indulgent as if mocking the tension between the two of you.

“I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks…” You began, your voice quivering slightly, and he felt a surge of fear grip his heart. “I know you had noticed that I had pushed you away, and I—”

The words sent a shiver down his spine. A flicker of emotion crossed your eyes—a mix of determination and sadness—that sent a twist through his stomach.

You'd rehearsed this conversation in your head, every word, but now that you had your boyfriend in front of you, your mind had gone completely blank. Your eyes drank in how worried he was; you hated yourself for doing this to him.

You took a deep breath, the kind that tried to draw in all the courage you could muster. “Remember two weeks ago when we had dinner with Sam and Sarah?” 

He furrowed his brow in confusion. Of all the things his mind had conjured up, you mentioning the dinner at Sarah's was not among them. However, he nodded and gestured for you to go on. 

“Sarah said something about AJ and Cass and then you mentioned that we were gonna have the cutest babies, and I—” 

God, this hurt so much.

Each word you spoke felt like a dagger piercing his chest, and made his heart sink further. The lump in his throat seemed to grow even bigger. “Is that what this is about? You don’t want to build a family with me?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks—of course, Joaquín would assume he was the problem. You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “No, it's not that I don't want to.” You exhaled, forcing the words out, your heart racing. “It's just…”

Joaquin leaned forward, squinting in a fervent plea for clarity. The concern on his face was palpable.

“I thought you knew about this, and that’s why you never brought the subject up…” You took a deep breath and finally uttered the words weighing heavily inside you. “I can’t have kids, Joaquin.”

“In the Red Room, they had this graduation ceremony…They sterilized us. One less thing to worry about, I guess.” You grimaced, your hands fidgeting instinctively—a nervous habit you couldn't recall developing. “For Dreykov, that was what mattered even more than a mission. It made everything easier. Even the killing.”

He struggled with the truth of what you said, and the world around him dimmed for a minute. 

“I've fought to put that part of my life behind me, and I don't want to be the burden that holds you back from having the life you want.”

“You're not a burden to me.” He moved closer and took one of your hands in his own, his thumb softly stroking patterns on the back of your hand. “What I want is you—just as you are. A future without you holds no interest for me.”

Emotions you had suppressed for so long started to overwhelm you, and tears filled your eyes. “I don't want to put you in that position. I want you to be happy.”

“But I am happy with you,” he replied, with a resolute tone.

“What if one day you change your mind?”

Joaquín leaned in, his eyes blazing with a sharp intensity that sliced through the fog of doubt that shrouded you. “I swear to you, my mind is made up. And it starts and ends with you.”

He cupped your face gently, wiping away a tear. You closed your eyes in contentment, leaning into his touch. 

You had missed it so much.

You had missed him. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured, gazing into his chocolate-brown eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

For the first time in two weeks, Joaquín found himself smiling—truly smiling. 

He pulled you closer, draping his arms around your shoulders. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling in his familiar scent, while he tightened his embrace around you, afraid that you would slip away.

He had missed you.

“Please, don’t push me away again,” he pleaded softly, his voice muffled as his face rested against your head. “Those were the worst two weeks of my life.”

“I’m sorry.” You pulled back slightly. “I don’t know how to deal with my emotions well, but I’m trying, I promise.”

“I know you are. And I’m here for you if you need me. We’ll work through it together. We’re a team, remember?”

As you listened to him, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. The fear that had gripped you for weeks started to fade.

“And we can always consider adoption,” he suggested, his eyes lighting up at the idea. “There are so many kids out there in need of a caring home. We can give them a shot at a better life.”

“I like that idea,” you said quietly, a timid smile emerging through the lingering traces of your tears.

“Good.” His hand found yours again, his fingers easily interlacing with yours. A wave of tranquility enveloped you, and for the first time in weeks, it felt as though you could breathe. You rested your head against his shoulder, settling into him and finding comfort in the calming thud of his heartbeat.

“Thank you for being so understanding. I don't deserve you.”

“Don't say that,” he said, lifting your chin, making you meet his eyes. “You deserve all the love and happiness in the world. And I'm not going anywhere.”

With that, he leaned into you, his lips softly brushing against yours, and in that instant, everything felt right again. The outside world faded, enveloping you in your warm little cocoon of comfort and understanding.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

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

[wondergotham]

You Look Like You Love Me

Request: “can you make a joaquin torres imagine where sam basically raised you and was your father figure. after some time, you grow up and then joaquin comes into the picture. we meet and fall in love blah blah blah. please!!”

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader

Warning: Mentions of blood & death

Your father’s name was Riley. Riley Y/L/N. He was a pararescue for the Air Force and your Uncle Sam’s best friend.

They were both selected to be test pilots for the EXO-7 Falcon.

Tragically, your father was killed during the mission by an RPG.

Your Uncle Sam ended his Air Force service after this and was left with guilt and turmoil. Even though there was nothing he could've done it still haunted him.

You were 12 years old, left without both of your parents.

Your mom passed away a few days after she gave birth. You never met her, but you had many memories of your father and Uncle Sam.

Sam had known you his whole life.

He was there when your father told him he was going to be an uncle, he was at the hospital after your mother gave birth, when your father asked him to be your godfather…..and so on.

He was there for you both. Even years later.

So when Riley died he knew he couldn't let the government take you away. Not when he knew he could raise you.

He was going to keep his best friend's promise.

Sam knew he would never be able to raise you the way Riley and your mom would have. But he could try. And maybe he would need Sarah’s help…but he knew he could do it.

He had to. For his best friend.

“Sam, you have to promise me, brother, if something happens to me you'll take care of Y/n.”

Not a day goes by that Sam doesn’t think about what his best friend told him.

He remembers it clear as day.

The hand Riley placed on his shoulder and how he stared into his soul. It’s almost as if he knew something would happen to him.

Sam was taken aback. He was going to throw in a joke but his best friend's expression said it all.

He was serious.

It was Sam's turn to place his hand on Riley's shoulder. "Riley. I promise you I will protect and take care of Y/n. She's my goddaughter, my family, you can always count on me."

Riley nodded.

"Thank you Sam. My little girl and I are lucky to have you in our lives."

After that moment everything happened so fast. Riley's funeral, you receiving the burial flag, his will being read.

Riley Y/L/N was known for his infectious laughter and unwavering loyalty to those he loved. He had a vibrant life filled with adventure, but his greatest joy was being a father to you, his spirited daughter.

The bond you shared was unique, filled with bedtime stories, impromptu dance parties, and countless adventures in the backyard.

As you approached your 12th birthday, your father began to ponder about the future. He wanted to ensure that should anything happen to him, you would be safe and cared for.

After much reflection, he decided to draft his will, a task that was daunting but necessary.

"In the event of my death, I designate my best friend, Samuel Thomas Wilson, as the legal guardian of my daughter, Y/n Y/l/n. I trust him to provide her with love, guidance, and the support she deserves."

Riley signed the document with a sense of peace, knowing that Sam would be a steadfast guardian. They had always been there for each other, navigating life's storms side by side.

Sam was a natural choice, someone who understood his values and shared his dreams and love for you.

Sam, standing at the front of the court, felt a ripple of emotions. He had always known how much Riley loved you, and now he was entrusted with your future.

Despite the overwhelming sadness, he felt a sense of purpose ignite within him. He stepped forward, his heart heavy but determined. He looked at the judge.

"I promise to honor Riley's wishes," He affirmed, his voice steady. "Y/n will always have a home with me. I will be there for her, just as Riley would have wanted."

With that promise, Sam embraced his new role as your guardian. He moved you into his and Sarah's home, surrounded by memories that felt both comforting and heart-wrenching.

The first few weeks were challenging; you were still grappling with your grief, and Sam was navigating the complexities of parenthood.

In the months that followed the house was filled with laughter and love. Sam made sure to keep your father's memory alive, sharing stories of their adventures and teaching you the values your father held dear.

You both shared stories of him, laughing and crying as you remembered the man who had brought you two together.

One evening, as you both sat together on the porch, you looked up at Sam, your eyes filled with uncertainty. “Do you think Dad is watching over us?” You asked.

Sam nodded, his heart aching for your loss. “I believe he is. And I think he wants us to be happy, and continue living our lives to the fullest. He loved you so much Y/n. I know I'm not your dad sweetheart but I promise you will always be safe and loved. I will always be here for you, okay?"

"I know Uncle Sam. You know, my dad loved you too. He always said you were the brother he never had. He said something about you and him being the less rich version of Dr. Dre and Eminem."

Sam snorted before throwing his head back with laughter.

"Yeah, that sounds like your father."

As the months turned into years, Sam encouraged you to pursue your interests, from academics to sports, always reminding you that you were capable of achieving your dreams.

Though your father was gone, the love he had instilled in your lives continued to thrive, a testament to friendship, family, and the enduring power of love.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

Now several years later your bond was stronger than ever. After a lot of hesitation and lectures, Sam let you become an Avenger.

He knew your father would have wanted that for you. You both shared the passion to protect and help people.

You joined the Avengers when Tony brought Peter to the airport battle in Germany. (Not that you remember, because you didn't anymore)

Since then you've been helping the world and your Uncle/Godfather as Y/H/N. (Your hero name)

Earlier Sam received a call from President Ross. He was sending the both of you and Joaquin to Oaxaca, Mexico for a mission.

Luckily your uncle had been working with Joaquin for 3 years now so you were able to spend more time on the field kicking ass instead of being behind the computer.

Those days were long gone.

Sam did this because he still was hesitant about you joining on some missions. Despite the fact that Tony, Natasha and Steve continued to train you after Thanos had snapped half of the population away.

Your Uncle was one out of the many gone but you were left untouched. You had to live 5 years without the man that had became a second father to you.

To make a long story short you were a completely different person when Sam came back. You were all grown up.

You were a stronger, quicker, and more skilled fighter. But in the years that Sam was gone you also managed to set up a foundation named after your father.

The Riley Y/L/N Foundation, there was also a scholarship named after him and an award. Sam could not be more prouder. You had done great things in the time that he was gone.

He liked to believe him and Riley raised you well.

Now when it came to boys, Sam was definitely overprotective. He said,"No dating until you're 30." But that obviously wasn't going to happen.

Sure you had a few crushes here and there but they never became anything more.

Sam was certain he wouldn't have to worry about any guy coming into your life until he realized how big of a crush Joaquin had on you.

He did everything he could to delay the moment when you two would meet.

Today, it was out of his control.

Sam walked in first and you followed next to him.

As you step into the room, you feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Your attention is immediately drawn to Joaquin.

You feel a rush of anticipation. He’s cute, you think, noticing the way he fidgets slightly—a sign of his own nerves.

It makes you feel strangely comforted, as if you’re both navigating this moment together.

As Joaquin stands by, he feels a flutter of nerves in his stomach when he first sees you enter the room.

Wow, he thinks, she’s stunning.

You’re wearing a simple but beautiful dress under your white blazer that catches the light just right, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

His heart races as he notices the way your hair falls softly around your shoulders, framing your face.

"Joaquin?" Sam snapping his fingers instantly made the young man to look up at him.

Oh God it's bad, Sam thought.

"Sorry, you were saying?" He shook his head trying to refocus. There's no way he just made a fool of himself in front of you already.

The small giggle that escapes your lips is like music, and Joaquin can’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through him.

"I want you to meet my niece and goddaughter Y/n L/n also known as-"

"Y/H/N." Joaquin finished.

"She's going to be joining us on the mission today."

You caught the way he froze like a deer in headlights but found it adorable.

What if she doesn’t like me? The thought flickers through Joaquin's mind, but it quickly fades as he recalls your smile.

This must be what they mean by love at first sight, he muses, a mix of excitement and disbelief washing over him.

He feels his cheeks heat up, wishing he could muster the confidence to say something without stumbling over his words.

Just be yourself, he reminds himself, taking a deep breath.

As you move closer, he prepares himself, ready to embrace whatever magic might come from this first meeting.

He takes a steadying breath, feeling both excitement and anxiety swirling in his stomach.

Finally, gathering his courage, he steps forward, his heart pounding like a drum. His step feels monumental, he knows he can’t let this chance slip away.

“Hey, I’m Joaquin, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm a huge fan of your work both on and off the field."

He extends his arm waiting for you to shake his hand. You feel a warmth spread through you.

His voice might be a bit shaky, but there’s an earnestness in his words that captivates you.

"Especially with everything you have done to preserve your father's legacy. It's incredible.” He smiles, his voice slightly shaky but warm, hoping to convey his genuine interest.

He’s different, you think, appreciating how he seems genuinely interested in you.

When your hand finally meets his he swears he could have flatlined in that moment. Your hand is small but soft with a gentle yet firm grip.

Your eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Thank you Joaquin that's very sweet of you I really appreciate it. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, I've heard a lot about you.”

The moment your eyes lock, a spark ignites within him. He feels an electric connection, as if the world around you has faded into the background.

You feel a spark—a sense of possibility.

Could this be something special? The thought comes through your mind, making your heart race even faster.

You find yourself leaning in, drawn to his sincerity and charm. It's so easy to talk to him.

For the first time in a while, you feel giddy and hopeful about what might unfold between you both.

"All good things I hope." Joaquin chuckles nervously.

"And nothing but, I promise." You wink.

Dios mío, he thinks.

For a split second one of Joaquin's knees gives in but he quickly recovers by standing back up straight.

It went unnoticed to you as you glanced at your phone but not to Sam.

In that moment, Joaquin feels a rush of hope. Maybe this is the start of something special.

He realizes that this simple conversation is not just a moment; it’s the beginning of a connection he’s been yearning for.

"Okay sweetheart let me show you where you can put your gear. We're gonna be taking off soon." Sam wraps his arm around your shoulder leading you away.

You nodded excitedly looking at Joaquin before following your uncle, "I'll see you later Joaquin."

"Yeah, of course." He smiles.

Sam looks at him mouthing a no and shaking his finger before walking out with you.

Joaquin just chuckles quietly.

He can’t help but feel a sense of excitement about this unexpected connection. He enjoyed the small moment, already imagining the laughter and adventures you might share in the future.

Little did he know, you were doing the same.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

A/N:

If you use the page break above give credits. Thank you.

[fireinmoonshot]

patience, baby | joaquín torres x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Technically he is also an Avenger…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

––––

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

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

[petertingle-yipyip]

15 MINUTES - JOAQUIN TORRES

Pairing: Joaquin x Reader // Word Count: 2,033

Summary: Your usual training with Isaiah is interrupted by Sam’s new protege. As it turns out, Joaquin also knows how to utilize fifteen minutes.

You were sitting on the floor of Isaiah’s gym, using your phone’s camera as a mirror while you were trying to braid your hair back. You had two small rubberbands between your teeth to tie off the small braids before you’d put it into one ponytail that you would also braid.

“What are you doing down there?” Isaiah asked, wearing the same grey sweatsuit you almost always saw him in.

“Do you have several of those or do you just wash the same one everyday?” You looked over with a deadpan expression that almost instantly broke when you saw him scowl at you. “I’m braiding my hair.”

“There’s a mirror in the bathroom.”

“I’m already almost done.” You tied off one small braid before moving to the other side of your head.

“If you don’t get off that floor...” He muttered.

“I need five minutes.” You argued.

“You’re a pain in my ass, kid. You know that?”

“I could say the same about you.” You made a face to yourself.

He muttered more complaints to himself before he walked away. You glanced over to make sure he was gone before you quickly mocked him. By the time your five minutes was up, you finished the second braid and had it all in a ponytail. You were braiding the entirety as you met up with Isaiah again.

“Told you.” You grinned triumphantly, tying off the final rubberband. You turned your head side to side so your fresh braid swung behind you. “All neat and out of the way.”

Isaiah sighed and gestured for you to start with the punching bag.

Your blood was pumping, breaths coming in heavily, and your muscles loose by the time anyone else arrived. You ran the back of your hand across your forehead to collect the sweat before it could get into your eyes while Isaiah went around to greet his guests. You watched the cranky instructor go and saw Sam coming your way with a shadow of his own.

“Good to see you putting in work, Y/N.” Sam smiled as you approached them all.

“Yeah, well.” You shrugged with a grin of your own. “Gotta stay sharp, right? Never know when you’ll need me.”

“Okay.” Sam laughed and crossed his arms. “You think you’re ready?”

“I trained for fights my whole life.” You met his gaze with a challenge in your eyes. “The Chaste trained me basically since I could walk… I may not be a super soldier-” You pointed to Isaiah. “-but I can hold my own, Captain.”

“Alright, alright.” Sam nodded, a sly smile on his face still. It was the look of someone that knew something you didn’t and it made you raise a brow. “You know this guy?” Sam gestured to his friend.

You looked over and hesitated. Dark curls neatly styled out of his face, broad shoulders with solid arms. Your eyes trailed down his figure shamelessly and you watched him shift slightly under your scrutiny. When you finally met his eyes again, he grinned and you cracked half a smile yourself.

“Joaquin Torres.” He extended a hand towards you.

“Y/N.” You shook his hand.

“No last name?”

“Not that you need to know.”

“Damn.” He nodded once as you released his hand.

You turned back to Sam and couldn’t keep the smirk off your face. He tilted his head in amusement almost instantly.

Isaiah tossed a pair of padded gloves and headgear at you.

“Is he breakable?” You asked, lifting your brows with a small smile.

“Excuse me?” Joaquin chimed in as Sam laughed and passed his friend a set of the same gear. The new guy’s tone made it sound like no one had ever made such a suggestion and it made you chuckle to yourself.

“You just might be the one to find out.” Sam joked and turned to his friend, who now had a nervous smile on his face. “What do you say?”

“Wha- You want me to fight her?” Joaquin asked.

“Sparring, technically.” You shook the headgear with your gloved hands before shoving it on your head. “Fancy gear means no one gets hurt.”

“You’ll snap that boy like a twig.” Isaiah commented and you grinned. 

“Come on!” Joaquin complained and then looked to Sam for help.

“My understanding is that she’s on par with Natasha Romanoff in hand to hand.” Sam shrugged, gently pushing his friend forward. “Give it your best shot.”

You took a few steps backwards and gestured to the open space.

“Unless you don’t think you can handle it…” Sam taunted.

Joaquin looked offended and you stifled a laugh.

“I can handle it.” He reasoned

“I’d love to see you try, pretty boy.” You shot him a wink.

“How long you think it’ll take?” Sam looked over your shoulder to Isaiah.

“Fifteen minutes.” Isaiah answered nonchalantly. The man always seemed tired of you and your antics, yet he oddly encouraged them. You didn’t have to see him to imagine how he was standing. Arms crossed, small shrug when he answered, furrowed brows with his permanent scowl.

“I can do a lot with fifteen minutes.” You chimed in. You looked Joaquin up and down once more. “It should only take two for you to finish.”

Joaquin’s eyes went wide and you grinned, a calm shrug as you began to pace around him.

“You talk like that with everyone?” He asked, turning with you.

“Does it bother you?” You flexed your fingers, noting how the padding felt against your knuckles. At least with your fingers exposed, you could still grab him if you needed.

Over his shoulder, you saw Sam move to stand with Isaiah. They whispered amongst themselves then shook hands, seemingly pleased with the arrangement. You squinted in suspicion and when Sam caught you, he pointed to something. Before you could figure out what, Joaquin tackled you to the ground.

You landed with a small ‘oof’ and his bodyweight was keeping you pinned. Your eyes flared wide for a moment but the stupid smirk he wore turned your surprise into annoyance.

“What happened to two minutes?” He taunted.

“I’ve still got time.” You answered.

You locked your knees on either side of his hips and you saw an expression of surprise cross his features. You laughed slightly and jerked your hips to the side to throw him off. You two rolled until you landed on top. Before you could get a solid position, his hands found your waist and pushed you off so he could scramble to his feet. You pushed up to your elbows and laughed again.

“Tick tock, Y/N!” Sam called out and you fipped him off.

“I’m being gentle.” You joked as you got to your own feet.

“That’s why I put you in gear.”

Joaquin turned to say something but you acted quickly. You threw a kick at his head but he lifted both forearms up to block it. Your move, however, was a bluff. You planted your foot against his forearms and jumped over your extended leg to land a kick with your other foot. You both landed on the floor and you pushed yourself forward, reaching to trap him in an arm bar.

Once your hand was on his wrist, his other hand grabbed your upper arm and swung you over him. You let out a small yelp but quickly tucked your knees. When Joaquin tried to pin you, you extended your legs and flipped him over your head.

From the ground, Sam tapped an imaginary watch on his wrist and your groaned slightly.

You craned your neck and found where Joaquin landed. You reached up and caught his wrist, using it pull yourself closer to him. You stood quickly, dragging him to sit up, and twisted his arm outward.

You lifted your other fist and feigned a punch to his temple. Instead of making contact, you tapped his cheek and let him go.

“Wasn’t two minutes.” Isaiah complained.

You shrugged a shoulder and offered Joaquin a hand. “I told you I didn’t wanna break him.”

“You took it easy on me?” Joaquin accepted your help to get to his feet, his expression betraying shock the entire time.

You grinned widely. “I trained my entire life to fight Japanese assassins that had lived several lifetimes, Joaquin. Fighting you was definitely not the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Damn.” He nodded slightly. “Sounds like you’ve got some stories.”

“And the scars to match.”

“Like that one?” The back of his fingers tapped the half exposed scar down your side. Your cropped compression shirt only hid the top portion of it but when his skin touched yours, you flinched.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ He quickly began.

“No, it’s alright.” You answered and put your hand on his arm. “Your hand was just cold.” You laughed.

Shamelessly, he looked you up and down as you were talking. When his eyes met yours again, you raised your brows with a small, knowing smile.

“Just returning the favor.” He said innocently.

“You’re fun.” You grinned. “Let’s go again.”

Joaquin opened his mouth, thought better of his response, then laughed it off.

“Go on.” You laughed as you took up your fighting stance again. “I dare you.”

“I was just gonna say…” He explained. “I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You shook your head with a smile. His hands raised for his fighting stance and you moved quickly. You threw haphazard punches, not putting any of your weight behind them. You threw one punch far too wide and he caught your wrist, spinning you quickly until your back was against his chest.

You let out a breathy laugh as he held your one arm out of the way and the other pinned to your side.

“Hey! Quit with the funny business!” Isaiah scolded and you laughed again, letting your head fall back against Joaquin’s shoulder.

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” He asked, amusement in his words.

“Aren’t you?” You replied.

You dropped your knee and attempted to kick his feet from under him. He avoided your leg sweep and the distance he gained allowed you to get back to your feet. You threw a lazy roundhouse kick that he blocked with his forearms. He pushed your leg away but couldn’t duck the jab.

Thanks to the gloves, the impact hardly fazed him.

You reached for his shoulders, intending to send your knee into his stomach, but he ducked out of your hold and pushed you away.

As you stumbled past him, the man had the audacity to smack your ass.

Your jaw dropped for a moment once you regained your footing and you could hear Joaquin laughing.

You turned to him and he was still grinning. You couldn’t help but laugh slightly.

“What are you doing after this?” He asked.

“When time’s up?” You stalled, walking in a slow, wide circle around him. “Leak some pictures, maybe. Or just do something batshit crazy.”

“Hey, I got money on this, Joaquin. Come on now!” Sam heckled.

“Don’t make me do it!” You called over your shoulder.

“Show him what you got, Y/N!” Isaiah answered.

You faked a sigh and focused on Joaquin again. He looked at you confused but when he opened his mouth to speak, you moved in. You hurried close, putting both hands at the back of his neck. You jumped and tucked both knees, dropping to the floor. Once you hit, your hands closed around the fabric of his muscle tee as you kicked your legs to flip him over. You threw your own body with him and landed on top.

“Pay up, son!” Isaiah celebrated as an alarm sounded.

“They actually set a timer.” Joaquin groaned.

You glanced over at them, caught a fake dirty look from Sam that you shrugged off, then looked back to Joaquin.

“Y/L/N.” You said, patting his chest before standing.

“Huh?” He made no effort to stand.

“My last name.”

“Oh, cool.” He smiled. “So… What would you say if I asked you to dinner?”

“Depends.” You leaned over him. “Are you asking me to dinner?”

“Would you say yes?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then yes, I am asking.”

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Thoughts on...Losing your virginity to Sam, Bucky or Joaquin | Sam Wilson x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Joaquin Torres x Reader | Drabbles 679 words.

Couldn't get these three out of my head last night, so here are my thoughts on...losing your virginity to Sam, Bucky or Joaquin.

Warnings: 18+ obviously for sexual content, implied p in v and somewhat implied creampie.

Masterlist | Sam Wilson | Bucky Barnes | Joaquín Torres

Sam

Sam would spend the entire evening getting you ready, not just flirting and touching, although as usual he can't keep his hands off you. He'd run you a hot bath, so you felt relaxed, gently washing your shoulders and letting you lean back against him as you soak. He'd towel you off slowly, unable to resist paying special attention to your breasts and legs, and then you'd both lie on the bed while he massaged your back, getting you comfortable together.

He'd run his fingers so lightly over your skin, teasing your legs until you were writhing and wanting beneath him. He'd let you feel how much he wants you too, pressing his hardness against you as he bent over to rub oil into your shoulders.

When you were ready he'd lay on his side next to you and wrap his arms around you, kissing you gently on the temple as he eased in for the first time. If you cried out or hurt he'd kiss your cheeks, wipe away your tears and whisper how well you were doing, taking every move slowly and carefully.

Sam would relish every gasp you made and make sure you came, brushing his thumb over your clit in time with his rolling hips.

After, he'd make sure you were comfortable and curl up with you in bed, putting on your favourite movie while stroking your back and telling you how well you'd done.

Bucky

Bucky would want you to be in charge of the pace. He'd kiss you for a while, warming you up without ever taking your clothes off.

Then he'd carry you into the bedroom and sit against the headboard with you in his lap, letting you move against him for a while. He'd worry that you wouldn't be able to take him, so he'd encourage you to grind in his lap against his hard cock until you came at least once.

Then he'd help you out of your clothes, if you felt nervous he'd tuck you into one of his shirts. But he'd let you explore his chest and arm so that you didn't feel vulnerable.

When you were ready he'd help hold you up while you took him inch by inch at your own pace,he'd encourage you to use him as you liked without worrying about him. He'd just be happy to be there with you, knowing there'll be other chances to discover each others pleasure.

He'd hold you to him as you came, letting you pulse around him and cry out while he told you how sexy you looked, how he was proud of you for taking what you needed.

Then he'd make sure you had a drink and a snack to get your energy back while he tucked you into bed.

Joaquín

Joaquín would feel honoured to be your first and excited to share the experience with you for the first time, tamping down his own feelings to make sure you have the best time possible.

He'd make sure the bedroom felt cosy and safe, lots of low lighting and music to distract you from your nerves, making jokes and just the right amount of teasing so that you concentrate on him instead.

He'd whisper in your ear while tickling you gently up your legs and then between your thighs, mixing English and Spanish in his excitement, pouring our pet names and sweet nothings.

While you're kissing you cuddle under the sheets in your own world, and when you're ready Joaquín would slip between your legs, cradling your face and keeping your eyes on him as nudged inside you.

He'd hold himself steady, waiting for you to lift your hips towards him rather than pushing further, watching you for any sign of discomfort, before tucking his face into your neck and rolling against you.

You have all the time you need and there's nothing rushed about the way you move together. He'd cup you cheek with one hand as you came, watching your eyelashes flutter, and afterwards you'd stay under the sheets dozing and cuddling.

[malum-forev]

Never Casual

Part 2

You knew something was very wrong the second you walked out of your apartment building.

For years, your routine always included a morning run. Before the sun came up, before anyone was awake, you’d go out.

Months ago, when the weather was cool, you’d have Bucky by your side, making the outing feel like a warm hug.

“You’re lacking a bit.” He’d give you a dazzling smile, running backwards like it was nothing, while your lungs burned.

“That’s not fair,” you’d huff. “I need motivation.”

“More motivation than this?” He drags his hands up and down his chest playfully.

You loved seeing Bucky like this. Out and about without a care in the world, without his mind telling him that everyone around him is judging him.

Bucky lowers his pace. “If you beat me, I’ll let you braid my hair.”

“But only if you leave the house with whatever style I put you in.” You start running faster.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He follows you.

“I can’t wait to see you in pigtails.” You laugh, running until you couldn’t feel your legs.

But now, the weather is warmer but you’ve never felt as cold. Without him by your side, even the sticky air seems icy.

On every single lamp post all around your route, there was a poster of Bucky.

Vote Bucky for Congress.

You scoff at the fake smile plastered on his face. It must have taken the photographers hours to get that shot. You more than anyone know how hard it is for Bucky to hide what he’s feeling.

For a second, you consider tearing down all the posters but you pick up your run before you can act on the impulse.

——————

“What is he doing here?” You couldn’t mask your disdain this time, as you see Bucky walk into the headquarters.

“C’mon, you’re not excited to see the old team back together?” Joaquin asks, sitting down at the chair next to yours.

“Not keen on having dinosaurs coming to check our work.” Your eyes never leave Bucky’s figure.

He hasn’t looked over at you once, avoiding your stare.

“Hey, could you help me with something inside the conference room?” You ask Torres with a devious smile on your face.

Joaquin eyes you suspiciously but follows you inside, and says nothing as you shut all the blinds.

“This drawer gets stuck sometimes,” you say, turning the hidden lock and pocketing the key. “Could you help me open it?”

“Sure,” he drags out the word.

“Put your weight into it.” You recommend, smiling as the desk starts rattling once Joaquin tries to get the drawer open.

“Yes, yes!” You chant, knowing that with Bucky’s supersoldier hearing, he’d be able to recognize the grinding of the desk and your moans.

He can’t erase from his memories the things the two of you have done in this same conference room.

“There you go.” Joaquin smiles, finally ripping the drawer open.

“Good boy,” you pat his head with a smile.

You barely have time to fluff your hair and make your clothes look a little disheveled when someone slams down the door.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Buck?!” Sam yells, taking in his now open-concept conference room.

“I-I-I just,” Bucky stutters, eyes bouncing from Joaquin back to you.

He must have heard wrong, but he can’t get the sound out of his head. The breathy moan from the back of your throat you used to give out, the rhythmic scraping of the desk, the good boy.

That phrase is what made him go crazy. Your praises used to be reserved for Bucky and only Bucky.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky gulps, cheeks painted red.

“Excuse me, Congressman.” You slip past him, but not fast enough for him not to catch your perfume.

“You changed it.” He calls after you, not caring that anyone heard.

You stop in your tracks. “What?”

“You changed your perfume.” He says so matter of factly.

“I did.”

“Why?” He sounds hurt almost.

Bucky had found that perfume at a shop one time he was away on mission in Berlin. He couldn’t help but stop by. He spent hours there, trying to find something that was as perfect as you.

“I grew out of it.”

You walk back to your desk, ignoring a very confused Sam and Joaquin. You were going to keep acting like nothing happened, even if Bucky’s facade is starting to break. And even if it breaks a piece of your heart to know that Bucky still recognized your perfume.

—————

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You mutter, walking in to Isaiah’s gym.

There, standing in his full glory, was Bucky.

“Oh man isn’t this great!” Joaquin jumps up beside you. “We get to spar with Bucky!”

“Great,” you tighten your jaw.

Bucky and Sam spar in front of you, the blue eyed man having the upper hand, as always.

“Hey, remember what I told you?” You trail the tips of your fingers up Joaquin’s hand, stopping at his pumped biceps. “About us?”

His eyebrows furrow but just for a second before remembering your agreement to act like you’re dating.

“Here too?” Joaquin looks around the almost empty gym.

You nod, noticing that Bucky’s guard lowered the second Joaquin brought you to his side.

With a punch, Sam sends the supersoldier down on his knees.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Sam cheers around the ring, never noticing that Bucky’s eyes are only on you.

“I’m up next.” You call out, slipping your hand out of Torres’.

“Break the old man in half!” Isaiah yells from your corner.

“Congressman.” You address him, trying not to let his stare get to you.

Bucky tries to look menacing but his eyes eventually soften.

“You’ve got this, honey!” Torres calls out.

“I thought you said you never wanted a cheerleader.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

You tried to keep your focus on him but you couldn’t help but think back at the time you’d told him that.

At first, you were the one who wanted to keep things a secret. Saying that exact same thing, I don’t need a cheerleader. I don’t need someone who publicly applauds me. I want someone who treats me right.

“I realized I want someone who doesn’t hide me.” You grit, throwing three punches.

Bucky stops all of them but one.

“Yeah! That’s it!” Joaquin yells as your punch comes in contact with Bucky.

But your punch doesn’t make him want to win the spar, it makes him drop his guard.

“What’s going on?” You push his hands up.

Bucky lets out a soft smile. “You know I could never spar with you.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” you huff. But the Sergeant doesn’t change his stance.

“C’mon sweets,” he whispers just for you, jutting out his jaw. “Give me your best shot. I know you want to do it.”

You roll your eyes, throwing the boxing gloves on the floor of the ring. “I wouldn’t want to give your make up team more work. Covering a bruise would be tough.”

Joaquin is the next one up.

“Don’t go easy on my Sarge,” Torres laughs, but Bucky has no intentions of doing the same.

His blue eyes narrow and before Torres even realizes it, Bucky kicks his legs and drops him to the floor. Joaquin tries to bounce back up but Bucky uses his vibranium arm to slam him on the floor again. Pushing his metal forearm to his chest, making Joaquin start to cough.

“That’s enough!” You yell but Bucky seems to be fixed on the young man.

“Stop it! You’re going to hurt him!” You yell again but nothing gets through to the old man.

Joaquin taps the floor three times but Bucky is restless.

Sam and Isaiah share a look of concern.

“Bucky! It’s fake!” You finally let out. “We’re not dating!”

The second his name leaves your mouth, the trance is broken.

“What?” Bucky looks back at you, letting Joaquin slip from his grasp.

“We were pretending.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Were we believable?” Joaquin croaks out.

“You were faking it?” Sam’s eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

“So you could send me undercover.” Joaquin gives Cap a smile.

“I made it up.” You look down at the floor.

Sam’s eyes widen. “Again, why?”

“To make me jealous.” Bucky drags his hand down his face. “And it worked.”

“You’d be jealous, of me?” Joaquin looks extremely surprised.

“It was a stupid thing and I shouldn’t have done it, I’m sorry.” You wipe the sweat from your face. “Let’s just drop it.”

“No, of course I’m not going to drop it.” Sam throws his hands up.

“We dated.” Bucky gulps, looking back at you.

That’s what you always wanted. Right? For Bucky to admit that what the two of you had was more than casual. But it didn’t feel right.

“W-wait what?!” Joaquin’s eyes bounce from you to Bucky. “You dated the fossil?”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“No.” You finally speak up. “We never dated.”

“Oh c’mon! Stop with the lies and the bullshit!” Bucky yells, stunning everyone in the room. “I’m sick of this war brewing between us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You look down at your feet.

“Tell me it didn’t mean anything,” Bucky comes closer to you. “I’ll leave you be if you look in my eyes and tell me it didn’t mean anything.”

“You were the one who wanted things like this!” You raise your voice. “You were the one who pulled away, you were the one who ended things! You don’t get to come back into my life after you wanted nothing to do with me!”

“That’s not-“

“You left! You destroyed me!” Your voice cracks. “My whole life was turned upside down, all because of your stupid career. You left me behind like I was nothing. Like I was just a casual fling.”

“Well maybe I made a mistake!” Bucky’s nostrils flare. “Maybe I was stupid and clueless and took advice from people who know nothing about me!”

Your chest heaves, his words make your body sting.

“And maybe I’ve regretted that same decision every day!”

“Well it’s too late for regret, Congressman.” You whisper.

His steel blue eyes burn into yours. “Tell me it meant nothing. And I’ll leave, forever.”

“Please, just leave.” Your voice trembles.

Bucky runs his hand through his dark hair. “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you really want.”

“It is.” You gulp, the words leaving a bad taste on your tongue.

Bucky walks out of the gym, but your heartbeat thumps faster the further away he is.

———-

You’d come back from a mission on an incredibly rainy summer day. The weather was hot and suffocating, the worst combination. But at least you were home.

You zipped off your tactical suit, turning on the tv just enough to drown out the rain pattering outside your window as you made a cup of tea.

“Breaking news coming from DC,” you faintly hear the news reporter on your screen. “Voters are now changing views after future congressman James Buchanan Barnes’ speech today.”

“What the fuck-“ you turn up the tv as Bucky’s face takes up the screen.

“I am here because I want to make a change in the world. But with change, comes comprehension. My life has been spent serving the public, but I cannot let that dictate my private life. I am in love with an amazing woman who has also dedicated her life to protecting the people. And if voters cannot comprehend that, then they shouldn’t vote for me. Because I refuse to let the love of my life walk away just because she isn’t what you think-“

Before you know it, tears well in your eyes. It’s been weeks since your heart was ripped out and now, it’s finally feeling like it’s healing. But maybe time wasn’t what you needed, you needed the man you love to tell the world that he loved you too.

Three knocks on your door make you shoot up from your couch.

Slowly, you open the door to reveal Bucky. Standing on your doorstep, drenched by the rain.

“Sam told me you were back.” He mumbles, his eyes grey and cloudy. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to see me but I- I just can’t be away from you.”

“Bucky,” you whisper, your voice trembling from tears. “Why did you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth.” He takes your hand in his. “I love you. And I was stupid to not see it then but I want you to know it.”

“I’m so tired,” tears fall down your cheeks, “tired of acting like I don’t want you. I yearn for you. I ache for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky kisses your temple. “I was scared to admit that I love you. But I do, I love you like nothing else. I should have never said that. Please, I’m begging you. Forgive me.”

You melt into his touch, finally finding what you lost all those weeks ago. “I forgive you.”

Bucky holds your face in his hands. “You were never casual. You’re the love of my life.”

Authors note: hihiiii omg thank you so much for the love on part 2 and 1!!! Alsooo, I’ve just posted new chapters for my book! I’d love if you could give it a look over! Thank you and love you.

Tagged:

@toldyouitwasmelodrama @ellabellabunny123 @cjand10 @oikarma @ironwinnerwonderland @whoreforbarnes @aio-Targaryen @athenabarnes @Natlovesu @bonnyclydecat @shanksstrawhat @yeonjunarchives @sassysteph56 @ordelixx @mostlymarvelgirl @sh1zhu @erinallene @the-bucky-one @unaxv @kodzukenie333 @g1g1l @hanacheryl @ironwinnerwonderland

[backtothefanfiction]

Can I Sleep With You? | Joaquin Torres imagine

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

Warnings: fluff, funny jokes, miscommunication

Word Count: quick written in app couple hundred words

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: Hey, you still up?

Joaquin: Yeah, why?

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

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

“Can I sleep with you?”

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

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

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

“Okay, then what did you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nah, I think I’m good,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

[sunsburns]

honestly i feel like joaquin gives best friends to lovers vibes. and the moment you realize he likes you (meanwhile you've liked him for years) is gonna be in the middle of one of those heated arguments you have with each other bc he's jealous of the new guy you're seeing but one of you is stubborn and doesn't wanna admit it. idk if this counts as a request but if you like the idea i'd love to see you write something abt it!!

yes yes! i feel like it would be even better if the two of you had been working together for soo long too. like you’re in the middle of a stakeout or a mission and he’s suddenly bringing it up for the first time, trying to be all suave and subtle and you’re like ????

the stakeout had been dragging for hours.

the two of you were stationed in an unmarked van on a dimly lit street, watching the back entrance of an old warehouse where your target was supposed to show. you and joaquín torres had done plenty of missions like this before—long hours, bad takeout, and enough banter to keep you both from losing it.

except this time, he wasn’t talking.

not really, anyway. he was pretending to be busy, fiddling with the comms setup even if it had already been working fine since the start of the op.

the van was cramped, parked just far enough from the target building to stay out of sight. the only light inside comes from the dim glow of yours tablet and the occasional flicker of streetlights through the tinted windows.

and then, out of nowhere—

“you never did tell me how your date went last week.”

you barely heard him over the quiet hum of the surveillance feed. your attention is fixed on the warehouse across the street, waiting for movement, but his words pull you out of it.

you glance over, catching him looking away the second you do. subtlety had never been his strong suit.

“i didn’t think you’d want to know,” you said, testing the waters.

“of course i do.”

something in his voice made you pause. it wasn’t the usual teasing or lighthearted prodding—it was earnest. which was odd, considering the first time you brought it up there had been no jokes and joaquín had not been this curious. if anything, he’d gone uncharacteristically quiet, then changed the subject entirely.

but you’d brushed it off at the time.

still, you decide to humour him. “it went well.”

silence. then the soft creak of leather as he shifts in his seat.

“so, is there a second date coming?”

the casual tone didn’t fool you.

you smiled, mostly to yourself. “maybe.”

you expect some kind of quip, a halfhearted joke to brush it off. but you didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened, how his fingers flexed against his knee.

for someone who was an expert at recon, joaquín was terrible at hiding his tells. always had been. every thought he had crossed his face before he could stop it, which is why you’ve never had to second-guess him.

but that? that was weird.

“why? do you care?” you ask, turning slightly toward him.

“i don’t,” he said too quickly. “just wondering if i gotta learn this guy’s name or not.”

your smile grew wider. “oh? so you do care.”

he finally looked at you, “that’s not what i—“ he exhaled sharply. “forget it.”

you couldn’t.

you studied him for a moment, the furrow in his brow, the slight clench of his jaw. this was the longest conversation you’ve had outside of mission chatter in a week. and now he suddenly wanted to know about your love life?

“joaquín,” you started, voice slower now. “if there’s something you wanna say—“

“i only care when it affects our work.”

that made you bristle. “oh. am i too distracted for you?”

“that’s not what i said.”

“it’s exactly what you said.” you turned toward him fully now, forgetting about the stakeout for a second. “you didn’t have a problem last week when i was watching your six, but suddenly i go on a date and now i’m not focused enough for you?”

“that’s not—“ he stopped himself, dragging a hand down his face. “tu—you’re impossible.”

“like you’re any better,” you fired back. “you’ve been acting weird ever since i mentioned this guy, and now you’re bringing it up in the middle of a mission like it’s relevant intel? what’s your deal, torres? what’s going on? what are you trying to say?”

he pressed his lips together, clearly debating something. you knew him well enough to see the war happening behind his eyes, the push and pull of something he'd been trying to keep locked down.

“i’m not—i’m not trying to say anything,” he muttered.

your eyes narrowed. “bullshit.”

his lips curled into something sour, “i don’t get you sometimes.” his voice was lower now, “you’ll pick up on the smallest details in the field, but when it comes to this?” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, frustrated, “it’s like you’re choosing not to see it.”

that stopped you cold.

because for a second—for one stupid, fleeting second—you let yourself think about it. really think about it.

like the way joaquín always made sure you had the last protein bar on long missions, even if it meant going without. or the way he always covered your blind spots in a fight, positioning himself between you and danger without hesitation. the way his voice changed when he spoke to you, softening in a way it never did for anyone else.

the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

god.

your stomach twisted. you had spent so long convincing yourself that none of it meant anything. that it was just who he was—loyal, protective, a damn good partner. that was the only way you had managed to push your feelings down, to keep yourself from ruining what you had with him.

because the truth?

you had been in love with joaquín torres for years.

and it had been eating you alive.

the only reason you had gone out with someone else at all was because you had needed to move on. you couldn’t keep wanting something that wasn’t yours. couldn’t keep looking at him like he hung the damn moon when he was always just out of reach.

but now—now—he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to say something. like he wanted you to see it.

like maybe you hadn’t been crazy all along.

“joaquín.”

he just shook his head, frowning like he was mad at himself for even saying anything. “doesn’t matter.” the frustration drained from his voice, leaving behind something hollow. “forget i said anything.”

then he turned away like the conversation was over.

but it wasn’t.

because now, there was no taking it back.

and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to.

before you could respond, sam’s voice crackled over the comms.

“guys," he said, slow and unimpressed. “you do realize your mic is on, right?”

heat flooded your face.

joaquín scrambled to reach for the radio, red in the face. “sorry. must’ve turned it on by accident.”

“glad we’re getting some entertainment while we wait, sam continued, and you could almost see that grin on his face. “but unless you two wanna keep broadcasting your love confession to the team, maybe save it for after the mission?”

[goosewriting]

I just read all your Joaquin stuff!! You write him perfect so great job! I love it so much ! If possible could you do either your both ditching eachother up after a fight (supper fluffy) or something along the lines of reader not being able to breath (either health issue or injury ) and then having to deal with that. No pressure if you don’t have time !!

(Not) Doctor's Orders

summary: Joaquín and reader tend to each other’s wounds after a mission.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: (18+) mention of blood, description of injuries and treating them, kisses, innuendos

word count: 1.7k

A/N: i’m gonna assume instead of “ditching” you meant “stitching” each other up? why, you’ve read my mind dear anon, for that trope is one of my absolute most favouritetest<33 the “super fluffy” aspect kinda got away from me tho and it ended up way more suggestive than intended :’v hope you’ll like it nonetheless!

[all masterlists] 🪶 [mcu masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

After a mission abroad, you’re sent to a safe house nearby instead of flying back to HQ immediately. All in all, the mission went great, except that you got shot. The bullet didn’t fully hit you, luckily; it just nicked your leg. But it still took off a chunk of flesh, and it hurts.

Your arm is around Joaquín’s shoulders as he holds up part of your weight, helping you walk. When you make it through the door, you let your bags fall in the hallway; you’ll take care of it later. The house is pretty small, and you enter into the main room, serving as both the living and dining area, with a kitchenette on the other side. He crosses the space and brings you to the bathroom, setting you down on the edge of the bathtub.

Joaquín takes out the first aid kit from underneath the sink and you both shrug off your jackets and the bulletproof vests you were wearing underneath, tossing everything to the side. You inspect your leg and hiss when you brush over the wound, going straight across your mid-thigh. He kneels down before you, his hands hovering over it, but he stops, looking up at you.

“Can I take it off?” he asks, the slightest tremble in his voice. Heat spreads on your face, and you mentally curse at yourself for the reaction. You’ve been crushing on Joaquín for a while, and you’re pretty sure he feels the same. This is really not how you pictured how undressing for the first time would go. When you don’t immediately respond, he’s quick to add, “Sorry, no need. I’ll just cut them open.”

But you stop him from getting the scissors from the kit by placing your hand on his, and his movements halt instantly, his eyes shooting up to meet yours.

“No, don’t,” you say, quickly retracting your hand. Another wave of heat prickling on your cheeks. “I– I don’t have a change of pants.”

Lifting yourself off the tub with a hiss, you pull down the garment to your knees, and he helps you get them off completely. There’s a slight dust of dark pink on his cheeks and ears, but he tries to mask it with concern and focus at the sight of your wound. Without wasting a second, he starts cleaning it. When he applies the disinfecting spray, you take a sharp breath through your teeth, your whole body tensing at the sting.

“Sorry,” Joaquín mutters, taking out the sterile needle and thread from its packaging. “Ready?”

You nod, and when he pierces through your skin, the pain makes you slump forward slightly, holding onto his shoulder opposite to the stitching hand for support. He works with his brows slightly furrowed, trying his best to get this done as quickly and painless as possible. To distract yourself from the pain, you study his face, the bridge of his nose, the moles sprinkled on his cheeks and chin, the deep chocolate swirls in his eyes. It dawns on you that Joaquín is kneeling in front of you between your legs, and the thoughts that follow make you quickly look away from him, focusing on the generic brand shampoo bottle in the corner instead.

“Done,” he finally announces, cutting the last bit of thread after tying a knot. After putting one final plaster over it, he straightens up a bit, almost rising to your eye level. You let go of his shoulder, intending to hold onto the edge of the tub. However, he gently takes your arm in his hands, inspecting it further for injuries. Then he does the same to your other arm. Finally, he looks around you to check your back. Once he’s satisfied that there are no other big wounds that need his attention, he grabs a clean rag and fully stands up to turn toward the sink. After drenching it and wringing out the extra water, he turns back to you, gingerly holding your face in his hands as he looks down at you, and you can’t help but melt at his touch. He’s handling you with such care, it makes your whole body buzz with warmth, your heart incessantly thumping against your ribcage. 

You close your eyes so he can wipe over them, getting rid of all the dust and dried blood from the little cut on your forehead. Over that one he places a small band-aid, then his hand rests under your chin again to make you look up.

“There, that’s better,” he says with a small smile, and his voice is so soft, so intimate, you fear you might pass out right there. When he drops his hand, you immediately miss his touch.

“What about you?” you ask.

Joaquín looks down at himself, placing his hands on different parts of his body as if to check if they hurt.

“I got out unscathed, I think,” he says, and you rise a brow at him. You lean forward slightly and snake your arm around him to softly poke him in the back, and he flinches with an ‘ouch!’

“Unscathed, my ass. You got shot,” you remark, remembering all too well how a stray bullet had found him. Luckily, you were both wearing your bulletproof gear. 

Your eyes widen slightly as Joaquín grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and taking it off. You try no to stare too obviously. Really, you try. But then he turns around to look at himself in the mirror, and you spot the dark bruise already forming on his back where the bullet had impacted. Before you can help yourself, your hand reaches out, your fingertips softly tracing over the purplish skin. His eyes meet yours through the mirror.

“Well, my professional medical diagnosis is that you don’t need stitches for that,” you say, and he huffs a laugh. You’re not sure what it is, if it’s the twinkle in Joaquín’s eyes or the amount of exposed skin or the fact that either of you could have died today, but a burst of confidence bubbles up within you, and you intend to take advantage of it. “But you know what they say the best medicine is,” you add as you lean forward, then place a soft kiss to the bruise. You hear him gasp in surprise.

As you lean back again, you don’t dare look at him. Surely by now your whole face is on fire. Your whole body certainly is. In fact, you almost can’t feel your wounds or the ache in your bones, your whole focus on the man in front of you.

For a moment, Joaquín doesn’t move, and the warmth you felt earlier quickly dissipates, replaced by a cold panic that spreads from your gut into your limbs. You’ve overstepped. You’ve ruined everything. He never liked you back, it was all in your head. Your mind reels as you try to find the words to apologise for your actions. But before you can think of anything, he slowly comes back down to his knees in front of you, the deepest and most adorable blush you’ve seen on him yet adorning his cheeks and ears, all the way down to his collarbones. 

“Best medicine, you say,” he repeats your words, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes shyly find their way to yours. “I think I could use some more of that.”

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words. The implication sends a flutter through your gut that spreads into your whole body.

“Where?” you ask, breathless.

Joaquín points to a cut on his shoulder, his eyes never leaving yours, and you lean in again, your lips ghosting over the spot. Then he points to a scratch on his arm, and you place another featherlight kiss. This goes on for a while, where he wordlessly points to different parts of his body, his chest, his arms, and you kiss it better.

Then one of his hands finds your good leg, staying on the outside of your thigh, and you think you’ll combust on the spot. His skin coming in contact with yours sends a series of sparks through your nerves and up your spine, eliciting a small gasp from you. 

“Here,” he whispers, his free hand pointing to his throat, right next to his Adam’s apple. Your own hands come up, a bit shaky, and hold his face as you leave a trail of small kisses from where he pointed, all the way up to his cheekbone. He lets out a shuddering breath, looking at you through half lidded eyes when you pull back. 

“Anywhere else?” you ask, but you can’t even finish your question as his lips finally come crashing onto yours, and once the initial surprise is gone, you tilt your head and sigh into the kiss. His lips move with urgency against yours, the hand on your leg sliding to your waist and pulling you to him, the other cradling the back of your head. You reciprocate as best as you can, given you feel like you’ve entirely lost control of your body. When he breaks for air, both of you panting heavily, it's his turn to leave a trail of kisses on your throat.

“The good thing about this medicine,” you say between breaths as he leaves wet kisses on your pulse point. “Is that it works both ways.”

Joaquín snorts, stopping what he’s doing to pull back and look up at you.

“Yeah?” he says, slightly out of breath, then his gaze darkens a bit. “I can think of another… treatment, too. To make you feel better.” Your heart skips several beats at his words.

“Well, it might be a while until we can see a proper doctor,” you say as you softly rake your fingers through his hair, and he hums at the sensation. “Might as well take every precaution.”

Joaquín gets back up to his feet, carefully picking you up under your legs and around your back from the tub, and you hold onto his shoulders. As he brings you to the bedroom, you don’t even look back at the mess you left in the bathroom, completely lost in his eyes. You’ll take care of that tomorrow.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @f1-tennisgirlie @magikdarkholme @tsunchani @Chuchu8923 @bitchy-bi-trash @guynamedaurel @crumbledcastle28 @sarahskywalker-amidala

[blackbat05]

Fateful Encounters

Joaquin Torres x Reader

Plot: After a hard week at the library, you meet an enigmatic stranger with the help of your beloved dog. During TFATWS timeline.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: And I’m going to watch him on big screen today?!!!?Was in a funk so really glad I got this out! This is a complete rewrite to (Mixup) So excited to see him on Big Screen too after writing for him for so long! Enjoy!!! Tag: @the-slumberparty for 2025 challenge!

“Thanks for today!” You call out to Sophie who urges you to get out of the library and enjoy the weekend.

“Hey! Thanks for bringing Bubbles! They really loved her at the session today.” Sophie bends down to give my lovely Goldie, Bubbles a head pat. “You did such a good job!” She addresses the joyful pooch who gives a bark of acknowledgement.

You bid Sophie goodbye and lead Bubbles out into the cold evening of New York for a hearty dinner and another job well done for the week at the library.

“Well done girl! Where shall we go?” You ask Bubbles who gives a tug on her leash, leading you down the familiar path to both your favourite cafe near the library. “Of course, why did I even ask.” You smiled.

The cafe that you frequented when you first arrived in the bustling city was starting to become crowded on a Friday evening. Family and friends gathered to enjoy the start of a weekend. Bubbles obediently waits in line as you ordered a chicken rice bowl for yourself and a specially curated shredded chicken and pepperoni pizza for Bubbles who is almost pulling you the other direction the moment you finished payment.

“Girl! Slow down. There’s still seats.” You were confused at her sudden excitement at something. You follow her line of sight only to see a lone man gazing out of the window, lost in thought. Bubbles continues to drag you towards the said man, much to your horror.

“Bubbles! No! There’s other seats! We’re not disturbing the poor man!” You hissed under your breath. Unfortunately, it falls on deaf ears as Bubbles only becomes stronger. “Bubbles! Oh- hi!”

You quickly revert to what you assume is a calm and composed version of yourself when internally, you’re freaking out. For a very good reason.

The man was gorgeous. As in, breathtakingly gorgeous. Donning a black leather jacket, you were mesmerized by his hazel coloured eyes that just sucked you in with each passing minute. It felt like it was just the two of you in the room, his soft lips catching your attention…

Bubbles nudges you hardly on the shin and you snap out of your lovesick induced haze. It is then that you notice that the man’s right eye is recovering from a bad bruise. You’re left to wonder what was the story behind that but you quickly pull yourself together because this is not the time to be ogling at the man like he’s an animal at the zoo. You certainly didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not sure why Bubbles is acting this way.” You apologized. “We’ll just find a seat and be on our way.” You try to tug on Bubble’s leash without much success. Bless the man, he doesn’t seem bothered at all by your sudden appearance. In fact, he offers you the seat across from him. “It’s getting crowded, please.”

You thank him and quickly settle down across him. Bubbles takes no time in trotting over to her new found friend, resting her snout on his lap. “She likes you.” You observed. The man gives Bubbles a rub, much to her delight. “She never warms up to anyone that quickly before.”

“Well then, I must be a very lucky person.” He cracks a small smile before introducing himself. “Where are my manners? My name is Joaquin Torres.” Joaquin offers a handshake.

“Y/N L/N. We just came from the public library down the street.”

For the next few minutes, you fall into easy conversation about your job as a library assistant at the children’s section. You were absolutely out of luck when you were trying to search for a job fresh out of university. Although you could have gone into the corporate world and land a cushy job, you never felt that it was right for you to begin with. Your true passion lied with books and connecting with people about them. So one day, when you were absolutely tired of having to spend the whole day in front of a computer sending out resumes after resumes, you decided to head to the public library for a much needed escape.

“And lucky me, I saw the advert for the job. So here I am.” You beam inwardly at the memory. It was incredible really, how far you’ve come since then. “That’s enough about me, I would like to know more about you.” You say sincerely.

Joaquin fiddles with his teaspoon and you wonder if you’ve crossed the line. You start to open your mouth to apologize but it’s as if he can read your mind. “It’s only fair.” He brushes away your apology reassures that you’re not forcing him.

“I used to be in the military, Air Force.” Joaquin tells you. “It was the best time of my life. But seeing people die, that chipped away at my soul.” A moment of silence passes, perhaps for the lives that were lost.

“This?” He points to his bruise. “I got it while on a mission in Europe. I was there for surveillance, but innocent civilians died on my watch by a group of terrorists claiming that they were making the world better.” Joaquin tells me bitterly. Bubbles gets up and presses her body against Joaquin’s legs, as if she could sense the agitation radiating from him. He looks down and gives her another rub of thanks.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to go through something so horrific. Thank you for telling me.”

“It was actually something that I needed to do actually.” Joaquin confesses. “My Captain encouraged me to get therapy but it didn’t sit right with me.” He laughs at the thought. “I should thank you for sharing as well. It mustn’t have been easy, how you got here today.”

You were oddly pleased at Joaquin’s compliment. You knew that already, but having someone like Joaquin to acknowledge your struggles made you feel a connection with him.

As the customers continued to stream in and out of the cafe, you sat across the charming stranger-now-turned friend, sharing experiences living in the bustling Big Apple.

Bubbles whine, signaling that she was started to feel cooped out under the table. “Oh, I think that’s my signal.” You carefully eased the dog under the table. “Thank you for the company and conversation. I really needed that.”

“Same here. Take care.”

You stepped out into the chilly evening, heading back in the direction of your apartment. As you arrived back home, you let out a gasp of realization, causing Bubbles to be alarmed.

“Oh no! I forgot to ask him his number!” You groaned. Joaquin was a genuinely nice guy - a rare one these days. A rare one that you carelessly let out of your grasp like a slippery fish.

Hitting your head on the back of the sofa, you turned to Bubbles. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be huh girl?”

Bubbles let’s out a bark, bringing your backpack that you take to work everyday. Confused, you open up the bag, figuring that Bubbles wants to play with her blue plastic ball. Not that you were in a mood to play anyways. But dogs didn’t know that.

As you were about to throw the ball for Bubbles to fetch, she let’s out another bark. It is then you realized that there’s a white piece of paper sticking out of the ball’s cap. Unscrewing it open, a piece of paper that was ripped out from the order sheet at the cafe falls out. Opening it, you find a signature with a couple of words inside:

“Hey Y/N, I had a really great time talking to you. I know it sounds bonkers but I think I’ve hit it off with you and I don’t want this to be our only time. I don’t want to be a weirdo (or stalker) so this is my number. Call me when you’re ready.”

You hold the piece of paper in your hands, smiling from ear to ear. Perhaps you look a little deranged but the idea of Joaquin feeling the same way that you did was a god send. It really was a no brainer as to what you were going to do next.

Taking a deep breath, you dial his number that was given and hit the camera function while praying for the best.

After three rings, Joaquin picks up, his boyish features lighting up at the sight of you. Needless to say, it made you feel incredible. “I was praying that it wasn’t an unsuspecting old lady.” You crack a joke that earns a hearty laughter from the man.

“I’m glad you called.”

“So did I.”

Joaquin grins at your confession. “So… are you doing anything next weekend? I was thinking I could take you and Bubbles to this famous steak place.” It was adorable to see Joaquin nervous as he waits for your response. Joaquin must have sensed the cogs in your brain turning so he quickly adds, “I swear I’m not weird or anything. It’s just that I really liked talking to you that day and Bubbles! But if you don’t want to, I understand.”

“Joaquin!” You get his attention to stop him from rambling further.

“Yeah?”

“I was going to say yes either way.”

Joaquin blinks, slowly registering your words. “Great! That’s great! Um, bring Bubbles too! I want to see her again.”

You glance down at your beloved pooch who is wagging her tail at Joaquin’s voice.

“Oh she will. She’s definitely excited to see you too.” You laugh and pause for a moment, unsure if it’s too fast to say this. But hey, life is fleeting as it comes. So screw it.

“I’m excited to see you as well.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Joaquin Torres is def the kind of bf to poke and pout at you if he’s not getting any attention. Golden retriever if you will. Like reader would be on her phone or something and then he just slowly moves his head in the way and starts whining lol

If you could write a little blurb about this w girlfriend!reader or partner!reader that would be nice thank youuuu!

Joaquin would also be the type who’d get offend when you wipe off his kisses, dodge his hugs, stop using the cute but cringy nicknames you made up for him.

You were just trying to watch a video that your friend had sent you, which would’ve been a simple task that’s easily done without issue, however you had an issue of your own in the form of your sweet and affectionate Joaquin.

The man currently has his head rested against your shoulder, his legs were tangled with yours as he poked and prodded at your arms and back of your hands that held your phone, as though it was the only form of entertainment he could come up with in his moment of boredom. And while some part of you wanted to be annoyed at the constant feeling of his finger poking you somewhere, you also couldn’t help but smile when you heard him huff and puff when your eyes didn’t once move away from the phone screen.

‘Can I help you mr Torres?’ You asked, amused.

‘Yeah, can you help me figure out why my perfect partner is ignoring me for their phone?’ Joaquin began, playing along. ‘Ive been calling for their attention for the past five minutes but I’ve been neglected for something apparently far more important.’ He then weakly pokes your thigh as a pout came across his lips at the idea of being ignored by you, especially when it’s was on his rare days where he got to actually be with you, and for your phone no less.

You smiled but your eyes still had yet to move away from the phone screen, where the video had finally came to a close, but you weren’t going to let him know that just yet as seeing him this desperate to get your attention. If anything this only made you want to drag this out a little while longer just to see what he would do just to have your eyes on him and only him, and your mind could only compare Joaquin’s need for your attention, need for your affection to that of a puppy dog; needy and wanting.

‘Have you told your partner about how you feel about this?’ You asked, biting back a laugh when you felt Joaquin lean even more against you, latching himself onto your arm as his thumb caressed the pulse point of your wrist, tracing words of love into your skin that only made your heart melt for him.

‘I’ve tried-‘ he starts.

‘With words mr Torres,’ you were quick to cut him off as you pretended to text your friend, all the while biting back a smile. ‘Not prodding them and nudging your head into their neck and whining like an adorable little puppy, use your words.’ You felt the pout upon his lips come back once more against the area where your neck and shoulder met, feeling his nose the skin there as well as his hair tickling you lightly that has you stifling back a laugh, however you failed and something close to a snort left you in that moment.

You knew Joaquin heard it and soon enough his body pulled away from left your side, making you mourn for his warmth to come back, only for his hand to come into view and push your hands holding your phone down to your lap. His beautiful brown eyes quickly filled your vision as they sparkled and glimmered as he looked at you pleadingly, knowing you could never say no whenever he looked at you as though your answer would make or break his heart.

‘You finally going to stop paying that phone so much attention and look at me now?’ He asks. ‘It’s been half a day that you’ve been on that thing and do you know how that makes me feel?’ He adds on.

‘How does it make you feel my heart.’ You replied, looking at Joaquin with a tender smile as your hand grasped his, intertwining your fingers.

‘Like you don’t love me anymore, it’s rare that I get days like these and you go on your phone? Over kissing me? I can’t help but feel betrayed.’ Joaquin says as he leaned his forehead against yours so that you couldn’t look anywhere but him, not that you would ever think about looking elsewhere other than the gorgeous man in front of you ever. You could admire him forever if you wanted to, but again it’s not something you’d ever admit to him as he’d only tease you by doing exactly this, pressing his forehead to yours so that you can only see him no matter where your eyes would look.

You let out a little chuckle as the giddy feelings that Joaquin easily made you feel began to spread throughout your body, making your every caress of his hand feel as though you were more alive then you’ve ever felt, making you feel as though you were on cloud nine and you never wanted to come back down if it meant never getting to feel like this again. ‘What can I do to make up for my dastardly betrayal of my beloved Joaquin?’

The man made a face of thought, making a show of looking anywhere and everywhere but you, before his eyes looked back at you warmly. ‘Just pay attention to me. Cuddle me, kiss me, keep holding my hand like you are right now.’ Joaquin admits as he pulled back just enough to kiss your forehead before resting it back there again. ‘Just don’t let this day go to waste by looking at anywhere where I’m not when I’m here, right here in front of you.’ He adds.

‘Consider it done then pretty boy, my pretty boy.’ You kiss his nose before pecking him on the lip, smiling against him when you feel him sigh and smile against your lips, happy to finally get what he had been wanted the entire day.

‘Your pretty boy i am.’ Joaquin hummed as he pulls back, still smiling as he moved so with the blink of an eye you were cradled within his arms as he laid with his back against the sofa, his hands splayed across your back as they rubbed up and down soothingly. ‘Now I believe a much needed cuddling session is in order. So I hope you’re ready to not move for a couple of hours because we’ve not going anywhere my heart.’

You didn’t even bother to fight your predicament, if anything you made yourself comfortable against his chest, nuzzling his collar bone and giving it a quick kiss before resting your head over his heart as it beats within your ear. ‘Why would I complain when I’m where I always need to be, with you.’ You murmured softly to Joaquin as you both then soon drifted into a comfortable sleep.