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#joaquín torres imagine
donottouchredbutton · 8 months
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In a Heartbeat
joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc
4k words
she saves someone, and joaquin saves her.
moodboard
note: i wrote this with my oc in mind that i plan to write more about, but i wanted it to be read as a reader insert as well! let me know what you think :)
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She had been living in Washington DC for a little over a year now. She moved there for grad school, and some of the excitement had yet to wear off still. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, with all of the good schools nearby and all of the things to do and learn in the capital. It seemed like a busy enough place to never be bored, which was exactly what she wanted. It really had seemed like a smart idea, especially since she hadn’t had any problems since moving there.
Until she did.
She was out with her roommate after classes had ended for the day, enjoying the warm spring day and simply happy to be people watching as they hung out. It had quickly become one of her favorite things since moving there, something she shared with her roommate, Jasmine. She was always glad she and Jazzy got along so well and liked spending time together, often spending time just being out and about like today. 
Jazzy was showing her a small outdoor shopping district just outside of a park. It must’ve been really popular because it was packed with people. People were out walking their dogs, parents were out shopping with their kids, couples and friends were on dates and lounging on the grassy areas. Music was coming from the open doors of one of the stores, loud enough to carry even as you walked away from it. Something smelled good, like fresh bread and cinnamon sugar, and she wanted to follow her nose to figure out where it was coming from. There was a warm breeze that made her shiver whenever they walked in the shade, so she pulled Jazzy away to make sure they stayed in the sun. A few kids ran past them playing tag. It made her smile, she hoped they were having fun. 
She was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed a bit of commotion going on. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it was progressively getting louder. From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one who had noticed as many of the people nearby were looking around as well. It continued to grow louder and louder until she spotted a large group of people running in their direction, all shouting and screaming to get away. A ways behind them, she spotted a group of big looking men in scary looking masks carrying scary looking weapons, all running after them with their weapons pointed forward. Before she could think about how cliche that sounded, she knew they had to get away first. Many people around them were coming to the same conclusion as they all began turning tail and running. She and Jazzy shared a look of understanding before following suit.
As everyone kept running away and the noise was getting louder, another noise caught her attention above all the commotion. She could just barely hear a small voice calling for help, but it was loud enough to get her to stop running. Her head whipped around trying to find whoever it was, wherever it was coming from. Her eyes landed on a little girl sitting on the ground holding a little boy, and even from her distance she could see they were crying.
“MOMMY!” the little girl kept shouting, tears running down her face as she tried to pull the little boy up with her. They had to be brother and sister. She sounded terrified.
She took off before she could think about what she was doing. She could vaguely hear Jazzy calling after her, trying to get her to turn around and come back, but she couldn’t. The only thing on her mind was getting to those kids before they could get hurt. She wouldn’t let that happen.
She slid to a stop and knelt down next to the kids when she got to them, unconcerned about the fact that she tore a hole in her jeans by doing so, nor the bruises and scrapes she no doubt would have on her knees either. The little girl, maybe seven or eight, kept pulling on her brother’s arm trying to get him to move, but he was sat on the ground firmly, bawling his eyes out and refusing to move. She knew he couldn’t have been older than three years old. 
She looked around for anyone who could have been their mother, anyone willing to help, but everyone was running in the opposite direction. She turned her head to see the group of men getting closer and closer, and they were gaining fast. She was the only one around.
“I need to get you out of here,” she said, turning back to the two kids, voice urgent. “I’ll get you back to your mom, I promise.”
She tried to pick up the little boy, who immediately started shouting and fighting when she did so. He was on the verge of a full-blown breakdown, determined to stay exactly where he was no matter what she did. 
“He won’t let anyone but mom pick him up,” the little girl cried, “but I don’t know where mommy is!”
Seeing how frightened they were broke her heart. There was no getting them to move if she couldn’t pick the little boy up, but she couldn’t just leave them. She wouldn’t. She didn’t know what to do, and she was struggling to come up with something fast enough. With another glance over her shoulder, she realized she was out of time. They were too close now, seconds away and coming right towards them. 
“Hold onto him, and don’t let go!” she ordered the girl. Once the girl did as she said, she grabbed both of the kids and held them to her chest, making sure neither of them would get hit as she awaited the inevitable first—and what she expected to be the final—blow to hit. 
She felt a strong gust of air rush over her head, and at the sound of a fight right behind her, she held on tighter to the kids in her arms. She knew this was it. In a heartbeat, it’d be finished. She’d be finished. 
“Are you okay?”
The voice was closer than she expected, making her jump, but it sounded genuinely concerned. Chancing a glance behind her, she was met with a pair of soft brown eyes. 
She looked past the man to see what was going on, only just noticing that the commotion had stopped, and she could see that the group of men were all lying on the ground unconscious with a man holding a shield standing above them. Everyone knew who Captain America was, but she never expected to come across him herself. Knowing that the kids would be safe now, she looked back to the man in front of her and was shocked to see he had a pair of wings on his back. The Falcon. They were positioned in a way that was meant to shield them from any danger. 
She finally looked back at the Falcon. His eyes hadn’t left her the entire time, and he stayed put in front of them, as if he wanted to make sure nothing could happen to them even with the threat gone. 
Instead of answering the man, she turned back to the kids in her arms. They were still crying and scared, she knew they would be, but at least she knew they would be safe now. She scanned over them for any injuries, and once she knew they were unharmed, she cupped the little girl’s face to get her attention. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay now. You’re safe,” she assured her, speaking softly to help her calm down a bit. She stroked her cheek to gently wipe away her tears. She felt her own heart beating out of her chest, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. “I’m gonna get you back to your mom now, okay? Let’s go find your mom.” 
She glanced back at the man behind her again, who still hadn’t moved, before she eased the kids up into standing. The weight of the situation was finally catching up to her, her head swimming as she tried her hardest to focus on getting the kids back to their mom before anything else. She kept looking between them and the man who saved them. Stuttering, she said, “I… I need-”
“MOMMY!” the little girl called, grabbing her brother’s hand and running to meet the woman who was running towards them. 
She watched as the older woman dropped to her knees to meet her children in an embrace, her own tears streaming down her face as she held her children to her chest. The woman began kissing all over their faces and on the tops of their heads, and the woman’s voice was just loud enough for her to hear her repeating my babies to the children in her arms.
She was walking towards the family before she knew what she was doing. Her knees were screaming at her causing her to limp slightly, but she didn’t care. She needed to make sure they would be okay. Once she was close enough, the woman looked up at her and a look of gratitude crossed her face. 
“Thank you,” the woman managed to say through her tears. “Thank you for protecting my babies.” For a moment, she thought the woman was talking to the Falcon, the one who actually had saved her kids, but the woman was looking at her. 
“You don’t…” she started, beginning to shake her head, but she knew it would be pointless. Instead, she said, “I’m just glad you and your kids are safe.” 
She watched them a few more moments before the woman gathered her kids up and hurried away from the scene. She couldn’t blame them, she wanted to do the same. 
She suddenly remembered the man who had saved them. The Falcon (she couldn’t get over it). She turned back towards him, and this time she really took him in. His wings had retracted back into his suit, thankfully, as they had been very distracting. He was tall without being towering. His skin looked warm and sun-kissed with sharp cheekbones that made her wonder what he looked like when he smiled. He had a head of short, curly black hair, and those soft brown eyes. Those eyes that were still watching, a strange gleam present that hadn’t been there before. 
She didn’t really know what to say, feeling awkward, but she didn’t need to. Before she could even thank him, he spoke instead.
“Are you okay?” he asked again. Something told her that he wouldn’t leave until he knew she was.
“I’m fine,” she finally answered. She didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not, but she still wasn’t able to focus on how she really felt. The kids were safe, their mother was safe, and as far as she was concerned, that’s all that mattered. And this man made sure of that. “Thank you.”
The man seemed to relax a bit at that, his shoulders losing some of their tension. He opened his mouth to say something else, but another voice cut in. 
“Torres! We gotta go, man!” 
It was Captain America who interrupted (which was something she never thought she’d experience), having just been talking with the police who she hadn’t noticed had arrived. They were hauling the men—masks gone and in handcuffs now—into the backs of the police cars. The hero was inspecting their weapons, clearly waiting for the other man—Torres, apparently—to join back up with him. Torres looked between the two of them, seeming conflicted. Before either of them could say anything, they were once again interrupted. 
The sound of Jazzy calling her name snapped her out of whatever was going on, and she turned to see her roommate running straight towards her. Before she could comprehend what was going on, Jazzy was grabbing her arm and pulling her away, determined to get them away from anything else that might happen. She looked back at the man, Torres, and called out another thank you! before she let her roommate lead her away from the scene. 
In truth, she didn’t think she would ever see him again. Why would she? He was The Falcon, Captain America’s partner and a superhero in his own right. He had to have saved countless people all the time. He probably wasn’t even in DC anymore. There was no way she would see him again. 
But then she did. 
She volunteered at a local elementary school, and today they were taking the fifth graders down to the veterans rehabilitation center. They liked to decorate the walls with pictures and bring flowers for the veterans, wanting to try to brighten their days a bit and thank them for their service while doing so, and she liked being part of it as well. She couldn’t imagine what some of them have gone through, but she would sometimes sit in on the group sessions to try to understand more. It was why she made sure to take the kids there at least once every couple weeks.
“It was so nice seeing you and the kids again, sunshine!” the kind lady at the front desk said as she was getting them ready to leave. It was a nickname she had quickly picked up since they started going there, and it always made her laugh.
“Of course, Laura!” she replied. “I’m just glad they like coming down here as much as I do.”
Laura chuckled lowly. “Your visits always make everyones day. They may not say it often, but they appreciate it. More than you know.”
She smiled softly at that. “We try our best. We just want to show our respect and try to brighten things up for everyone, you know?”
“Don’t sell yourself short, hun. What you do with the kids and for everyone here, not many people would do it. We all appreciate everything you do around here. We appreciate you.”
She looked down bashfully at the older woman’s kind words. She never really knew what to say to that. Her eyes flicked back up to Laura. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small bin. “I know you’ve been wanting to try Jazzy’s brownies.”
The wide grin that appeared on Laura’s face was enough for one to form on her’s as well. She nearly snatched the bin out of her hand, causing her to laugh. “You spoil me, sunshine!”
The two shared a few more words before she checked the time, knowing she needed to leave soon if she didn’t want the bus to leave without her. She said goodbye to Laura with a promise to be back the next week, and the other woman jokingly promised to be ready for more treats. With a wave and another smile to her friend, she began making her way to the front doors. She was in high spirits as she was preparing to leave, paying no mind to the man she passed on her way out until he called out to her. 
“Hey, it’s you!”
She almost didn’t stop, but when she looked around the area and saw it was mostly void of people, she figured it was her he was trying to get the attention of. When she stopped and turned around, her eyes widened when they met the same soft brown ones she first saw just the other day. 
“It’s you,” she repeated, not knowing what to say.
For a moment, she wondered how she could even miss him. Sure, he wasn’t wearing his suit or his wings and seemed, therefore, much less intimidating–not that he seemed intimidating in the first place, but he did save her life, and there’s just something about meeting a superhero face to face that makes a person feel overly self-aware. Without the suit on, you wouldn’t even assume he was a superhero, though in her head she was kicking herself because of course that was the point. He just seemed so normal, and she felt like she could pay more attention now that her life wasn’t on the line. He wore a dark green jacket over a black shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses hanging from one of the pockets. His shoulders filled out his jacket well, subtly showing off his built but lean muscles. Part of her wished she could remember what they looked like in his suit when they were more noticeable, and she mentally kicked herself again for thinking that about a complete stranger. His dark curls were styled simply and looked soft to the touch, and she was sure they were. 
Those eyes, though. Unlike before, his soft eyes were looking at her in pleasant surprise rather than concern, his lips quirking up in what was almost a smile. But that weird gleam she saw before was still there, and if anything, it was much more apparent than before.
It took her a few more seconds to realize neither one of them had said anything, her eyes glancing off to the side as her mind raced for something to say. He must’ve realized the same thing because his eyes widened suddenly, taking a step toward her once he knew he had her attention. 
“Sorry, um,” he began, searching for his words, “I just didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad I did. How are you doing, after what happened?”
Her eyes widened slightly again, surprised by his words. “I-I’m doing fine,” she answered, but she wasn’t sure how much she believed herself. She added, “‘ve just been trying to get back to normal, is all.”
He seemed satisfied enough with her answer and started to nod, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
His words surprised her again. In a burst of confidence, she replied with, “Well, I did have someone to save me.”
His smile grew as he looked down sheepishly, and she thought she heard him say just doing my job under his breath. When he looked back up at her, she thought she liked seeing that gleam in his eyes, especially when he smiled. She thought happiness looked good on him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked gently, suddenly remembering where she still was. 
“Oh, I’m here to meet my partner,” he answered. “He helps out with the counseling sessions when he can. But I’ve got some information I need to discuss with Cap.”
Somehow, it didn’t surprise her to hear that about Captain America. In fact, it made her respect him even more for trying to help people on a more personal level, not just fighting as a superhero. Saving lives on all fronts, she was sure. But the way he talked about why he was there was just vague enough to pique her interest, and just telling enough for her to understand she shouldn’t pry. She was going to find a way to politely remove herself from the conversation, but he spoke again before she could.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, repeating her own question. He cringed at the way it came out, so he quickly added, “I just mean, this is the last place I expected to see you. Are you in the military?”
She shook her head, nearly chuckling. “No, I’m not. The school I volunteer at brings some of the older students down here every few weeks. We like to bring flowers and write cards, you know, to try to show our respect and appreciation. Try to brighten up people’s days where we can.”
“You do all this?” He asked, gesturing toward the decorations on the walls and the flowers here and there. His eyes had widened in surprise again, and it was her turn to look down bashfully this time. 
“Not just me. It’s the kids, mostly, but I like to help out.”
He looked impressed, and something about the look on his face and those damn eyes caused her face to heat up. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention. 
“Well, I can confidently say that I’m not the only one around here who loves seeing all of the notes and decorations,” he said softly, the smile on his face filling her with a sense of warmth she hadn’t felt before. “It’s amazing what you’ve been doing. We all appreciate what you do. And the kids, of course.”
Something told her that he was speaking more for himself than he was for everyone else, and somehow she knew that he meant it toward her directly. The thought made her smile.
His face suddenly got more serious, though, instantly making her feel nervous. “What you did the other day, with those two kids, too. That was amazing.”
That was not something she was expecting, and she definitely didn’t know how to respond to it. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down, suddenly feeling shy. “I did what anyone would do.”
But he was already shaking his head. “No, really. You saved those kids. I may be the one with wings, but you’re the real hero. It was incredible.”
When she glanced back up at him, she saw that a small smile had reappeared on his lips, and somehow, it was enough to ease some of the tension in her shoulders. It was enough to comfort her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it made her feel seen in a way she never had. All with one look, which is what really surprised her. She knew deflecting would be useless, so she settled with telling him, barely loud enough for him to hear, “Thank you.” And she meant it more than he knew.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked one final time.
She wanted to laugh that he wouldn’t let it go so easily. “I am, or I will be. I promise,” she answered, and she knew she was telling the truth this time. “Besides, this wouldn’t be my first time in a situation like that, and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” Now that got a good reaction out of him, even though it was the truth.
“Speaking of the kids, though,” she said before he could think about it too much, checking the time again and realizing she’d officially run out of time, “I have to get going so I don’t get left behind.” She looked him over one more time, trying to memorize as much as she could, before she began to turn away. “It was nice to see you again, and to talk. And thank you, again, for saving me.”
His smile warmed her from the inside out. “If it meant getting to see you again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
She forced herself not to shudder before turning around. She had only made it a few more steps before he suddenly stopped her again. 
“Wait!” he called, almost too loudly for the quiet hallway. “I didn’t ever get your name!”
She wanted to kick herself again. How had they gone this entire conversation without learning each other’s names? She glanced back over her shoulder, seeing that he had barely moved from his spot. With a warm smile directed at him, she told him her name.
Another smile began to form on his face in return, and it looked like he repeated her name under his breath. Their eyes met a final time before he responded with his own. “I’m Joaquin. It was really nice to meet you, too.”
She turned around before he could catch the wide grin that was beginning to form on her face against her will and tried to rush out of there as subtly as she could. As she went, she could just hear him, Joaquin, repeat her name a second time, and even from where she was she could hear a smile in his tone. She left the building with a bounce in her step and a warm feeling in her chest. 
All because of the Falcon who saved her.
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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years
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Blossom
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Pairing: Joaquin Torres x reader (no other specifications or gender)
Word Count: 1050 words
Outline: Having a crush on your boss and coworker clouded your vision from seeing things as they truly were.
Warnings: mutual pining, insecure reader.
Author’s Note: Finally my flower shop au is here! I have been changing this idea and this set a lot but I am satisfied with this so much, please enjoy!
P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics​
Main Masterlist ・❥・Joaquin Torres Masterlist
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“Try doing it a bit to the left.” You obediently follow his instructions and twirl the ribbon a bit to the left. The rose bouquet in your hands felt foreign yet this was your job.
“Yes like that and then carefully pick the thorns,” Joaquin speaks, his voice sweet like butter while brushing his fingers ever so slightly over your hand. The sheer movements cause electricity to vibrate through your skin.
“Wouldn't want anything to hurt you.” He smiles warmly, and it feels brighter than the sun, brighter than the hottest summer day. Illuminating his face in such a way that feels your heart with pure joy.
“Yes, you are doing wonderfully.” He continues as he watches your movements and you are very careful not to allow your emotions rise up to the surface keeping a polite smile on your face and averting his gaze.
“Your instructions are perfect, Joaquin. Thank you. ” You try to clear your throat and speak as unemotionally as you can wrapping the final ribbon together and lifting the bouquet to admire it. This was your boss and coworker, you should be feeling the way you were feeling right now, no matter how similar your ages were. 
“Ten red roses. Someone must be very much in love.” You continue, a fit of very hidden jealousy in your tone. The truth is no one had ever brought you flowers, and your unrequited crush on your coworker and boss really didn’t help your situation today. Looking at the bouquet for a moment or two longer, you place it down and go to the computer to check the next order. 
“Ten is too little,” Joaquin mumbles shrugging his shoulders. “Some people deserve a thousand and more.” There is always a playfulness in the way he spoke, a certain kind of warmth that engulfed your soul and made you genuinely happy just to exist with him in the same lifetime. 
“Some never get any.” You mumble under your teeth and shake your head before beginning to type something on the computer to distract yourself from the conversation. 
Joaquin picks up the bouquet in his hands and taps you on the shoulder ever so slightly with it. “Beautiful people deserve beautiful flowers.” You glance at him from the corner of your eye trying to decipher his meaning, wondering whether he heard you correctly or not. 
“Take it. From me. For your new house.” You take a moment to yourself contemplating, not daring to look at him. This wasn’t anything important, you didn’t have to think about it too much. You nod your head and take a deep breath before turning him towards him to take the bouquet from him, a smile adorning his handsome face. 
“For you.” For once more, your hands touch his, and the butterflies in your stomach attack you. This is going to get really hard for you, real soon enough. You want to stay in the moment and not think too much about the future or decide to run away. So you just whisper a very low ‘thank you and look at the flowers remorsefully. 
“You know I've never really had someone give me a huge bouquet before.” You roll your eyes. “Any kind of bouquet actually. Well or even a single flower.” The words seem to leave your mouth on their own, it’s not like you to open up at all. 
“Well everyone you have dated is an idiot,” Joaquin says with confidence thick in his voice.
“I haven't.” You blurt out, low as a whisper not looking at him, instead of brushing your fingers over the delicate petals.
“Never?” He sounds surprised. 
“No. I mean. No.” You hesitate for a second, there was no reason for him to know this and yet here you were running your mouth. The very next moment his hand is pushing your hair away from your face slowly, softly, and with a precious kind of affection. 
“Mira me.” His voice feels like velvet sheets wrapping around your body. You can’t help but follow his instructions once more, and glance up at him, brown eyes meeting yours. Hopefully, you won't run away now. His other hand is so close to the one caressing the flowers. The close contact freezes you in place. Everything is so new to you. He holds on to your face and maybe now you are watching the future unfold right in front of your eyes.
“May I?” He leans forward and places his hand on your cheek, his fingers caressing your cheek softly like running your fingers over silk. He is coming closer, you'd think your heart would beat out of your chest but instead, you felt calm and serene. You wanted this and it surprised you how much you did. As if you were waiting all your life for a moment like this. This is how things should fall into place. A moment is written in time and space. 
You sigh deeply and let him kiss you, memorizing the way his lips taste like honey and cinnamon against yours and how they feel like velvet on your skin. 
This is where he belongs, this is where you belong. The kiss is sealing your fate, each second a shared lifetime.
Until the distinct sound of the bell ringing when a customer walked in through the door caused you to pull quickly apart. 
Oh right, work, that pesky thing. You jolt back to your place rearranging flowers in the display section while Joaquin is talking animatedly with the customer. A young couple in love. They were interested in a wedding package. Joaquin glanced and smiled at you every chance he got, especially when you accidentally knocked down some flyers. 
From then on, it was him and you, intertwined and entangled in one another forevermore. When he closes the shop early, he takes your hand in his and proudly squeezes you close to him, walking you down the streets back to your place. 
And from then on your fates your sealed and in years down to come, everybody in the city knew of Joaquin’s and Y/N’s great love. 
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moonlight-prose · 2 years
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♱ OVER THE MOON ♱
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a/n: i haven't written for this man in awhile and i really really miss it. so don't be surprised if writing this fic inspires more after kinktober is over. also we'll just all pretend that i actually posted this on the eleventh and i'm not a week behind.
day eleven - praise kink + edging | kinktober 2022
summary: he loved you as if you were all the stars and moon in his sky, because to him…you were.
word count: 956
pairing: joaquín torres x f!reader
warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, fingering, edging, praise, spit kink a bit, fluff.
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Music filtered from the living room to the bedroom—a soft crooning voice singing in Spanish about a love they held for someone wholeheartedly. A love that you understood; one you kept close to your heart like a well guarded secret you didn’t wish to reveal. He seemed to do the same. Always whispering to you his praises, his words of devotion that made your pulse quicken and heart beat solely for him.
A ragged breath was all you could hear as his fingers curled right where you needed them to. His lips formed a smile the second he heard you make a sound—having gone quiet after the fourth time he proceeded with his actions. For an hour you’d been spread out on the bed, your body glistening in sweat while he worked his fingers between your thighs. Bringing you right to where you needed him before pulling away.
After the third time you were begging him to let you cum and by the fourth you’d lost all ability to even form words let alone say them.
He kissed a path up your chest, thumb spreading slick along your clit until you were taking in gasps of shuddered breaths. It was a fight to remain sane—each thrust of his fingers nearly shoving you over the edge. Yet it wasn’t enough to give you that final push, not enough for you to finally feel that blissful release you were throbbing for.
“Joaquín—” His fingers curled again, ripping a moan from you. “Shit,” you sighed, your eyes shutting on their own accord as you felt the familiar tightening in your stomach.
Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips, taking in the sight of you wanton with pleasure. “You’re doing so good for me baby,” he said, each word causing his lips to brush against yours. “So fucking pretty taking my fingers like this.”
You whined, chasing his kiss, the thrusts of fingers, anything you could get to bring you that maddening euphoria you were longing for. It was as if heaven and hell were waging war within your body. One fighting for the damning pleasure that spread through every inch of your being and the other attempting to rein in control just to hear more of his praise.
“I–I can’t—”
Sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, he bit down on it gently—the tangy taste of you on his mouth from earlier now spreading along your own lips. It made your mind reel, your vision blurry with every swipe of his thumb along your clit and fingers plunging into your dripping cunt. Spit trailed down your chin as he pulled away, your lip falling from his mouth with a pop and leaving it swollen. Just the sight of his brown eyes growing even darker at the sight of you completely at his mercy made your walls clench, a pathetic moan being swallowed by his lips.
“I know you can do it querida,” he mumbled, licking up the trail of spit. “You’re so good. One more and I’ll let you cum. Can you do that for me baby?”
You preened underneath his praise, moaning into his mouth as he sped up. Shocks spread up your spine with each stroke of his fingers, the building of pressure in your stomach almost painful. But you fought against the urge to finally give in. Digging your nails into his back, you held onto the last bit of control you had, clutching it so tight you were afraid it would snap in two.
“Yes,” you managed to get out, your thighs shaking from the oversensitivity of holding out for so long. “Yes I’ll—fuck!”
A smile flashed across his face, his thumb pressing down even more on your clit and sending your head back into the pillow. You wondered if your heart actually stopped, if you were even still breathing from how tight each muscle was.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, caressing your cheek as you gasped for air. “My pretty girl. All mine.”
You nodded frantically, head spinning from the pleasure burning its way through your body. “Yours.”
“Alright baby.” Pressing a kiss to your chest, he felt the last strands of your control snap. “Cum for me.”
Crying out his name so loud it bounced off the walls, your back bowed off the bed—head digging into his pillow. He was everywhere. His warmth covering your body, scent filling your senses and words echoing in your mind. You wouldn’t have had it any other way. He was the gravity holding you down to earth and the weightlessness that carried you into the sky. Your own version of equilibrium.
He kissed along your neck, scraping his teeth against the skin as your walls contracted around his fingers that still pumped steadily into you. Words of how pretty you looked while you came, how he couldn’t wait to taste you again, were pressed into each kiss, each brush of his lips against yours. It all blended together until all that you could process, all that you felt was him.
Whimpering, you finally came back down to earth, blindly grasping for his hand to cease his movements altogether. He did so within seconds, knowing the ins and outs of your body better than you did.
“I got you,” he breathed, forehead leaning against yours. “I’ve always got you.”
It was more true than anything you’d heard in your life. More real than the fucking universe. You sunk into it like a pool of water—drowned yourself in him just as he did with you. He loved you as if you were all the stars and moon in his sky, because to him…you were.
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inwhichiramble · 2 years
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Y’all I saw a rumor that Moon Knight would be in Captain America 4 and idk if that has any truth it but let’s make it clear that my weak little fangirl heart would not be able to handle seeing Steven Grant and Bucky Barnes on the same screen 😭😭❤️❤️❤️
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Raza, la neta no sé de dónde me esté saliendo tanta inspiración, pero... Pero... Creo y si las cosas van bien y siguen así, empezaré a subir "incorrect quotes"(¿?) De FATWS / como sería estar en una relación con Sam, Bucky y Joaquin...
So, esperen lo, al igual si tienen ideas o sugerencias, háganmelo saber...
Ya por último, recuerden que si les gusta este tipo de contenido, no sé olviden de compartirlo o comentar!!
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Raza, realmente não sei de onde estou me inspirando tanto, mas... Mas... Penso e se as coisas correrem bem e continuarem assim, vou começar a carregar "avisos incorretos"(¿??) sobre FATWS / como seria estar em uma relação com Sam, Bucky e Joaquin...
Então, espere, e também se você tiver alguma idéia ou sugestão, me avise...
Por último, mas não menos importante, lembre-se que se você gosta deste tipo de conteúdo, não se esqueça de compartilhá-lo ou comentá-lo!!!
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Raza, I really don't know where I'm getting so much inspiration from, but.... But... I think and if things go well and keep going like this, I'll start uploading "incorrect quotes"(¿?) about FATWS / what it would be like to be in a relationship with Sam, Bucky and Joaquin...
So, wait for it, and also if you have any ideas or suggestions, let me know...
...And last but not least, remember that if you like this kind of content, don't forget to share it or comment!!!
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galatially · 2 years
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obviously not today or anytime soon, but i want to write a band au with an OC and Joaco. He seems like a guitarist/vocalist type, no?
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firstelevens · 4 months
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#38 from the TS eras tour prompt list for sambucky, if you feel so inclined ♠️♥️♣️♦️
the BBC Musketeers Sambucky AU LIVES, y'all
38. clandestine meetings and longing stares
Bucky has never much been one for ballrooms. He’s only ever spent time in them in his capacity as a soldier, trotted out with the other Musketeers when the Crown wants to show off their own special regiment to visiting dignitaries. He imagines a ballroom would be stuffy enough without the cape and dress regalia that those appearances demand, and the crowds only make it worse.
He’s never liked this particular ballroom either. All those windows make for beautiful light, and they certainly show off the splendor of the gardens, but all that the sniper in him can see is a hundred thousand sightlines, few of them obscured by anything that would serve as a real obstacle.
He must have gone over his list of complaints a hundred times with Steve, and a hundred times again with Sam, but neither of them seemed to keep it in mind when they decided to pursue a suspected spy during a royal ball. It’s only the three of them, along with Torres, but in an attempt to be less conspicuous, they’ve rid themselves of their pauldrons. They still have their muskets, of course, and no shortage of knives besides, but Bucky worked hard to be able to wear the Musketeer crest on his shoulder, and it feels wrong to be without it.
Out of habit, he scans the room and finds the others again. Joaquín is dancing with a young woman whose mother is the premier source for gossip in the court, but it’s difficult to tell just who is plying the other for information at the moment. He’ll have to trust that Sam was right when he chose to bring Joaquín along.
He finds Sam next, charming the small Ottoman delegation that arrived earlier this week, undoubtedly impressing them with his command of languages. Everything about his posture is relaxed, and the diplomats around him all stand at ease, but Bucky can see the way his eyes cut to the windows and doors every so often, sweeping over the room and landing on the key players they’d identified earlier today.
Sam’s guard isn’t down, and he’s clearly taken to heart Bucky’s warnings about the windows as a vulnerability, and yet Bucky can’t help but watch him just a little bit longer. They’re soldiers and they’ve looked out for each other for years, but he’s not sure where soldiering comes into it when he finds himself glaring just a little bit in the direction of anyone who stops to admire Sam for too long.
“Make that face any longer and you’ll get stuck that way,” quips a voice from beside him, quiet but amused.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rogers,” says Bucky, settling the same glare on his best friend. “This is just my face.”
Steve snorts. “That might work better on someone who hasn’t known you your whole life. I’m not a cadet; you can’t glower me into submission.”
“You’ll forgive me if I try anyway,” Bucky says, his voice flat. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching Her Majesty?”
He furrows his eyebrows. “No, I’m covering the Spanish delegation.”
“I know your assignment,” says Bucky. “I’m just wondering why you aren’t where you usually are when you’re told to be literally anywhere else.”
This time, it’s Steve’s turn to glare. 
Grinning, Bucky pats him on the cheek. “Make that face any longer and you’ll get stuck like that.”
Which is, of course, when those windows that Bucky hates so much get blown in by a musket shot, directly lined up with where the Queen was standing not half a moment ago. Bucky looks up just in time to see Torres push his way through the nearest door, in pursuit of the gunman with a spate of palace guards.
Steve starts to move towards where the Queen was, but Bucky catches his arm and pushes him backwards, widening his eyes in warning. “Go check the other windows and start moving people out of here,” he says. When Steve opens his mouth to argue, he softens his tone and adds, “I have her.”
It still seems to cost Steve something to walk away, but he sets his jaw and does it anyway, calling out orders to the remaining palace guards.
Bucky turns and pushes his way through the crowd that’s formed near the thrones, relieved to see Sam and a lady-in-waiting helping Queen Margaret to her feet. She seems steady, if a little bit shaken, but then the lady-in-waiting gasps, pointing at the Queen’s gown.
“Your Majesty, you’re bleeding!”
The lady-in-waiting seems hysterical, but the Queen has always been made of sterner stuff. She frowns down at her skirts, where a dark red stain mars the cream and gold fabric. 
“It’s not me,” she says, then immediately turns, wide-eyed, to Sam. “Captain Wilson! You said you were unharmed.”
Bucky turns to look at Sam again and realizes that there’s a singe through his sleeve, the white of his undershirt peeking through but stained with blood.
Before he can say anything, Sam is rushing to reassure the Queen. “It’s just a graze, Your Majesty. Hardly worth thinking about. I’m only sorry that it ruined your gown.”
“I don’t care about the gown, Captain. I care that you’ve been hurt, and in protecting me, no less,” says the Queen. Bucky’s always liked her. She turns to one of the courtiers standing around uselessly. “Fetch the physician, please. Wake him if you have to; I want the Captain’s injury tended to at once.”
If Bucky knows the Queen, she’ll want to keep apprised of how Sam’s injury is, which means she’ll be in and out of her apartments with the shooter still on the loose. “That won’t be necessary, Your Majesty,” he says. “He’ll be in very capable hands at the garrison.”
Sam shoots him a grateful look and Bucky knows he was worried about the same thing.
“Are you certain?” asks the Queen.
“My sister trained to be a seamstress before she took up nursing injured Musketeers,” says Bucky. “The only concern about her stitches is that they won’t leave a big scar for Sam to boast about.”
The Queen smiles a little bit at his words and seems placated. “Then you should escort him back to the garrison so she can see to him as soon as possible.”
“Others can do that, Your Majesty,” says Bucky. “I think the King would much rather see you safely escorted up to your apartments, if you’ll allow the guards and I to do that.”
The Queen only nods. If she’s at all fazed by Bucky’s contradiction, she doesn’t bat an eyelash, motioning for him and the guards to take up their places flanking her. When they pass Steve at the doors, he gives Bucky the slightest nod. Bucky nods back and keeps moving.
He doesn’t relax when the halls of the palace are clear, nor when a sweep of the Queen’s apartments reveals that the Musketeers who stood guard did their jobs and kept the rooms safe. He doesn’t relax once the Queen is safely ensconced inside and the guards downstairs give him word that Torres apprehended the shooter.
He doesn’t relax until he’s stabled his horse at the garrison and hurried up the steps to the Captain’s quarters, bursting through the door without bothering to knock and finding Sam seated by the fire, bare chested as Rebecca finishes dressing the wound on his arm.
Neither one of them seem fazed by Bucky’s admittedly dramatic entrance. His sister doesn’t even spare him a glance until she’s tucked away the end of the bandage, straightening up and leaving her supplies where they are.
“He cut his hand on glass, too,” she says. “I’ve already taken out the shards, but I trust you can clean and dress it.”
Bucky nods, stepping aside so his sister can slip out the door and latching it shut behind her.
Without turning to look at Bucky, Sam asks, “Should I even ask you where Steve is?”
“Considering how little you’d want to hear the answer, I think it would be best if you didn’t,” says Bucky. He crosses over to Sam’s chair, pulling up a nearby stool and moving Sam’s injured hand into his lap.
“Does he realize how dangerous this is?” asks Sam, sounding exhausted. He doesn’t even flinch as Bucky dabs at the cut with a brandy-soaked strip of muslin.
“Of course he does,” Bucky says. “When has that ever stopped him from doing anything?”
“There’s a difference between swinging at the biggest man on the battlefield and sneaking into the Queen’s apartments late at night. The first earns you a Royal commendation. The second gets you executed for treason.”
“The King’s mistresses go in and out of his chambers whenever they want,” says Bucky, just to be contrary. He knows that they’re not even comparable, as expectations go.
Sam sighs. “But she’s alright? The Queen?”
“Shaken but just fine,” says Bucky, as he begins to bandage Sam’s hand. “We did a sweep of her rooms before we took her inside.”
“Good.”
“But we did have to make a detour to bring the prince from his nursery into the Queen’s apartments.”
The curse that Sam lets out would appall both of his churchgoing parents.
“It made sense to have him somewhere safe,” says Bucky. “And I know there are guards at the doors of the nursery, but you know that no one will protect that child the way that Steve will.”
“If anyone finds out what Steve is doing–”
“They won’t.”
“But if they do–”
“Sam,” says Bucky, his voice firm, “the woman he loves almost died today. I’m not sure I can blame him for wanting to be sure that she’s alright.”
“Really?” asks Sam, raising his eyebrows. “Because you’re usually the first to do it.”
“I know,” murmurs Bucky, carefully tying off the dressing on Sam’s hand.
“I mean, I at least expected a plan to tie Steve up and put him on a ship bound for Corsica, or a list of all the ways we could get charged with treason.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
Bucky is pulling his hand away from the dressing when Sam turns his hand over and catches Bucky’s fingers with his own. For a moment, it seems impossible to lift his gaze from where their hands are tangled together.
“Bucky.”
“I can’t, is all,” says Bucky, absently tracing a scar on Sam’s wrist with his free hand. “Not today.”
“Okay,” says Sam, turning his arm so Bucky’s fingers can trail over the rest of the scar. “Not today, then.”
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joaquinwhorres · 2 years
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thorough (fckboy!Joaquin Torres x f!Reader)
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SUMMARY ››››› When Joaquín texts, you know what he wants. And you also know that despite your better judgement and all of the other things you should be doing, you're going to give it to him.
PAIRING ››››› Fuckboy!Joaquín Torres x Female!Reader (written in 3rd person so you can pretend it's an OC like I do) Read the OC version here.
WORD COUNT ››››› 3,928
WARNINGS ››››› Joaquín's pretty out of character because my angel would never. oh yeah, and smut
A/N ››››› This idea has taken over the entirety of my thoughts. It has consumed all of my free time, so I figured I should try to wrangle some of the vibes and vague ideas into an actual story. So, here is this little imagine which is v smut heavy and v plot light. But, I am thinking of turning this into a fake dating/redemption fic, so lemme know what you think! Divider from firefly-graphics (not tagging because this is a work of smut).
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A single notification flashed across her screen. 
U up?
Y/N reached over, clicking the screen dark. She was up. But not for him. Instead, she turned back to her textbook and the packets of printed out notes strewn across the desk in front of her. The only men who would be getting her attention tonight were the esteemed scholars Sedra and Smith. And maybe Dr. Barnaby if she got around to reading her lecture notes over. He would have to find someone else. And there would be someone else. There was always someone else for him. She just had to hold out long enough for him to move on and go find them.
Her screen lit up again. 
Or has circuits put u to sleep? 🥱
This time she rolled her eyes as she dismissed the notification, a small smile playing at her lips despite herself. Of course he knew exactly what she was doing. Even if he never acknowledged her, he still sat in the same lecture hall as her and dealt with the same lectures and exams. 
Y/N returned back to the textbook example problem, fingers sliding under her glasses to rub at her eyes. She withdrew her hands, fixing her glasses before picking up her pen once more. She needed to stay focused. This test was going to be thirty percent of her grade. If she wanted to pass, she needed to learn how to apply input resistance to both Example 6.11 and her own life.
Oh god. She was broken.
Shaking off the thought of her mental deterioration, Y/N pressed her pencil to her notebook paper, copying down the problem in front of her. Just one more section and a skim through of her lecture notes after this. If she powered through, she could probably finish before three and get a solid five and a half hours of sleep before the exam. Yet, as Y/N worked her way through the problem, her eyes continued to slip over to her phone and the dark glass screen that reflected her desk light back up at her. 
Circuits.
Not dick. 
Circuits. 
Not–
Her phone lit up again.
It didn't kill u did it??? 😱🪦 
She snorted a laugh through her nose as she picked up her phone, thumb swiping to unlock it. As she began to type out a reply, the white auto suggestion box popped up. 
Not today Satan.
She exed out of her roommate's attempt at a safeguard, as if on autopilot.
Not yet but I am slowly dying.
The three dots in response were instantaneous. 
Sounds like you need to take a break. 😉
The auto suggestion box popped up once more as she typed, this suggestion an indictment of both her idiocy and predictability. She clicked on it.
Come over.
Very little studying was accomplished in the time between Y/N sending her text off and receiving the text that he'd arrived. The promise of a break seemed too much for her brain to withstand, and she'd only managed to work out an answer for the RIN before she finally gave in and took off her glasses. After that, she'd only had time to shove her dirty clothes in the closet and straighten her sheets up from where they hung  off the bed before her phone buzzed.
Y/N put her phone back down, slipping out of her chair and padding across the still apartment towards the door. Pulling it open revealed Joaquín dressed in a maroon ASU hoodie and dark grey sweatpants. His hair was ruffled, and his own glasses were on. 
 Evidently he'd been studying for Circuits too. 
The corner of his mouth quirked up into a soft smile—the same one that he'd given her last fall when they met eyes across the crowded frat. She had known even then exactly what she'd be getting herself into if she smiled back. But there was something about the genuine delight in his smile–the fact that he looked almost awed–that had her lips curving into a smile almost on their own accord. Much like now. 
"Hey," he whispered. 
Y/N leaned against the partially open door "Hey." 
"Is it cool that I parked in the lot?" he asked with raised eyebrows, and she nodded. 
"Yeah, they don't usually check for tags at 3 am."
Joaquín breathed out a laugh, hanging his head and shaking it as his own stupidity as Y/N smiled at him. "Yeah, I probably should have guessed that." He looked back up at her with a small smirk, and it was Y/Ns turn to shake her own head before motioning with it that he should come in. He obliged, stepping into the small dark apartment and waiting for her to lock up behind him. 
He probably could have made his way back to her room without her, but instead he remained, eyes roaming over the dark living room and kitchenette as if it were his first time there and he was taking it all in. She took this as an act of kindness–a preservation of the little dignity she had left when it came to Joaquín Torres.
So, Y/N quietly led the way back to her room, ushering him in and closing the door as softly as possible behind them to avoid waking her roommate. 
When she turned back to him, she found Joaquín bent over her notes, curls falling into his face. He looked intently at what she had written, his eyes following along each line of her solution before he shook his head. "That problem's been kicking my ass for the last hour," he said, tilting his head to look up at her. "Think you could walk me through it tomorrow?" 
The sheepish grin he gave her made her stomach flip, and she really should have kicked herself for it. Because there was no way he didn't know exactly what he was doing when he looked at her like that. And he knew that she knew what he was doing whenever he flashed his dimples too. And yet she still couldn't find it in herself to tell him to go to hell.
"Depends how much sleep I get," she said with a shrug, attempting to fix her face into something more smirklike than smiley and feeling like an utter failure at it.
His eyes gleamed mischievously as he straightened up and turned to face her. "How much sleep is enough?" 
She shrugged as she walked past him and over to the foot of her bed, setting herself down to sit on the edge and leaning back on her hands. "I don't know, three hours? Four?" 
"What if it's two and a half, but I buy you coffee," he bargained, leaning back against her pushed-in chair with his arms crossed across his chest. 
"It'd need to be really good coffee." 
"Starbucks counts as really good coffee, right?" 
She scoffed, and Joaquín laughed softly, his head tipping back as the amusement lit his face up. When he faced her again, it was with an expression of warm amusement. "What if it's Starbucks, but I make sure you thoroughly enjoy all of the time you're not sleeping tonight?" he asked, eyebrows raising up over his glasses as he took a step towards her. 
A tingle shot through Y/N as she followed his slow, purposeful movements towards her, and she fought the urge to press her legs together. "I guess that would depend on how thorough is 'thoroughly'." Somehow her voice managed to keep its teasing playfulness even as the look in Joaquín's eyes became more focused, more intense, more hungry. 
He stopped in front of her, close enough that the fabric of his sweatpants brushed against her bare knees and she had to tilt her head up just to see his face. She raised an eyebrow at him, and while she had intended for it to be questioning–a prompt for an answer–she couldn't keep the smirk from playing at the corners of her lips, turning the look into almost a challenge.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lifted a hand, brushing her hair back behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her neck and along her shoulder until they reached the strap of her cropped cami. His pointer finger hooked under the strap and he pulled her towards him by the thin piece of silk, until her head was tipped all the way back just to see his face.
Joaquín leaned towards her, his breath warm and promising more than his words could ever deliver on. "Thorough," he murmured, letting the word kiss across her skin, setting her nerves alight with anticipation before he closed the space and kissed her himself.
It was easy to get drunk off of Joaquín's kisses. She wondered if this was simply a paired stimuli given the nature of their first encounters. If the dizzying effects his kisses had on her was her body remembering the weightlessness of too much Jungle Juice and a cute boy's attention. If the way she seemed to melt into him was a conditioned response from him pulling her close to him so easily even when her limbs felt heavy from Jell-O Shots. 
But maybe it wasn't classical conditioning or muscle memory. Maybe it was just the natural biological response to the way his hand took hold of her waist, squeezing at the bare skin there as he deepened the kiss and stepped forward, between her legs. Maybe it was just a natural reaction to feel lightheaded when an attractive boy slid his hand up under your crop top and moved his lips along your collarbone with each kiss like a whispered promise.
Her head lolled to the side, allowing him more room to work, and he took advantage of the newly exposed stretch of skin, placing hot, open mouthed kisses there. Y/N sank her teeth into her lip, biting down into it to keep herself from making any of the embarrassing sounds threatening to spill from her just from a bit of kissing. It was a pointless measure though, for as if inspired by her action, Joaquín's teeth caught at the tender skin on her neck and pulled it into his mouth, sucking harshly. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, dragging him closer to her as he moved up her neck, picking a new spot to nip. A gasping noise escaped her as his tongue swiped over the spot, sounding far too much like a whimper for her own comfort. 
Joaquín dragged his lips further up her neck to just under her ear. "Fuck you make the most beautiful sounds," he praised, pressing a kiss below her ear. "Drives me crazy."  He kissed her again before taking a hold of her ear with his teeth. 
Another noise, much like the first escaped her, and her fingers reached up into the hair at the nape of his neck, threading through the strands and then tugging him backwards and away from her so she could see his face. His glasses had slid down a bit on his nose, and his pupils were blown wide and dark, and she knew, she knew,  that whatever happened next, it would be thorough enough.
"Did you come here to compliment me or to fuck me?" 
He grinned. "Por qué no los dos?" 
She leaned closer so that her lips almost brushed his as she demanded, "Cógeme." 
Joaquín practically tore his sweatshirt and shirt from his body, his glasses catching in the material and flying off somewhere with the clothes to a corner of her room. Her own arms were crossed across her middle to pull off her top, but she didn't get a chance before his hands wrapped under her knees and yanked her forward so her back fell onto the bed.  He knelt before her, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pajama shorts and dragging them down her legs. 
His eyes snapped to hers as he pulled the silky fabric free of her legs. "Impatient, aren't you?" 
Y/N reached down, flicking the side of his head. "It's how I sleep." 
"Mhmm," he hummed, disbelievingly as his eyes focused  back to her parted legs and her center that was completely bare to him, not a scrap of lace or satin or cotton or anything to shield it from his hungry gaze. He lifted her leg over his shoulder, pausing to press a kiss to the inside of her knee and then trailing a line of kisses and nips up to the top of her inner thigh. Y/N squirmed, and he chuckled, moving his other hand to her hip to hold her in place. "I haven't even gotten to the good part." 
"I'm sensitive," Y/N breathed out,
"I know," Joaquín grinned, leaning forward to lick a large stripe through her folds, sending her arching off the bed with a gasping moan. "Qué buena estás." 
And then he dove back in. 
There were a lot of reasons why allowing Joaquín into her bed at three in the morning was a bad idea. 
For one thing, she really should have used the time to study for the test that would make up a solid third of her grade in a class that took many people two tries to pass. There was also the inevitable exhaustion that would probably affect her performance on that test. 
Then there was the fact that if they woke up her roommate, she would have to deal with side eyed glances, reproving sighs, and little comments for at least a week. Not to mention the fact that her roommate would probably tell the rest of their friends, and then she'd be getting it from all angles. 
But the biggest reason this was a bad idea, the reason with the most inevitable consequences, was the fact that he'd leave behind an ache that chased her throughout her morning, reminding her of how stupid she was for doing this. 
But as she gripped onto Joaquín's head like her life depended on it, hips chasing a release on his tongue, it was difficult to really think about any of that. It was difficult to think at all. All she could manage were small bits of breathy praise spurring him on.
"Fuck. Fuck yes, right–ah!" She threw her head back into the bed as he sucked harder around her clit. One hand freed itself from his curls,  clawing at the sheets to give herself more purchase as words left her in favor of high pitched, gasping noises that sounded vaguely like his name. And then, finally,  she could hardly get out any sound as a wave of pleasure coursed through her causing her whole body to go taut as Joaquín replaced  his tongue with his fingers to help her ride out the high.
"I've got you. I got you," he reassured, coming back up her body to place kisses along her jaw as she slowly came down, chest heaving. Y/N pulled in deep breath as his lips continued to rove  around her chest and collarbone, neck and face, always whispering bits of praise before gracing her skin with a kiss. One hand slid across her bare stomach, taking hold of her waist as he gave one last kiss before looking up into her face. 
"And?" he asked with a small smirk.
"And?" she repeated in question, the word coming out more as an exhale.
"How am I doing so far? Thorough enough?" he asked, his hand inching up under her top to take hold of a breast. The pad of his thumb ran over the nipple there, and for a moment, Y/N's mind went hazy. "Or is there something I'm forgetting to pay attention to?"
"I think you already know." Despite the words themselves, her voice came out needy and airy, and it elicited a low chuckle from Joaquín whose hand retreated back to the edge of her top, teasing her with the promise of taking it off. 
"I want you to tell me." 
"Stop teasing me, and put that mouth to better use," Y/N snapped, and he grinned this time. 
"Close enough," he said, pulling her top up and over her head, flinging it away from them.
His mouth was truly a gift from God, but his hands, and the way they massaged her breast, twisted her nipple, worked her in ways that were positively sinful, they could only have been given that skill through a deal with the devil. So, she lay there, fingernails scratching at his shoulder blades as he worshiped her chest, switching between the breasts and from mouth to hands in ways that made her feel holy. Holy but aching. 
"Joaquín," she mumbled, hand sliding from his shoulder to his bicep, pressing her away from him. He lifted himself from her skin, eyes meeting hers. "Flip over," she commanded. His face lit up, and he complied so quickly and eagerly that Y/N laughed. 
Joaquín tucked his hands under his head, watching intently as Y/N moved to straddle him. "We can't be too loud," she whispered, placing a finger against his lips. "Ok?" 
"Got it," he said, biting her finger playfully. She withdrew her finger from between his lips, running her hands down his muscled chest. It was almost criminal, the fact that he always wore loose fitting t-shirts instead of something that showed off the hard work ROTC had him put into his body.
She leaned down, allowing her tongue to explore the planes of his chest, dipping low to swirl around his belly button and lower to the center of his v line. Joaquín groaned, and Y/N hooked her fingers in the waistline of his boxers, dragging both the underwear and sweatpants down his legs and off his body. When she looked up at him, she found Joaquín's gaze fixated on her. There was a quiet desperation to his look, not as needy as she was sure her own faces were, but almost like he was a second away from an answer, and she was the only one who could help him get it. 
Y/N crawled back up his body, taking his cock in her hand and teasing it with long, slow strokes. Under her, Joaquín's eyes had closed, a grunt passing through his lips as he managed to lift a hand to take hold of her hip. Her thumb passed over the head, spreading the precum along his hardened length, her hand twisting around him before she dipped down and kissed the head of his cock. His hips jerked up from the bed, as if chasing her as she pulled away. Joaquín opened his eyes, casting her a look of confused desperation. 
"I'm not the one who made promises," she said with a tilt of her head and a smirk. He let out a gasping laugh, pinching her hip, and she rolled over him leaving the boy groaning underneath her. 
"Hold on," she said, pressing a hand to his chest and leaning up over him to reach into her side table. She fumbled around, fingers slipping over the contents of her drawer until at last the smooth feeling of the condom packet greeted her fingertips. She snatched it up, not even bothering to shove the drawer closed as she withdrew to her position over Joaquín's hips, tearing open the package with her teeth. 
She probably could have been more sensual about it–moved a bit slower with teasing touches and seductive glances–but instead she tossed the empty wrapper and immediately went about rolling the condom over Joaquín's waiting cock. Because while she probably could have withstood a little bit more anticipation, a little bit more build up until this moment why should she have to when she could have him now? 
Y/N raised herself a little higher, Joaquín's hands coming to her hips and slowly guiding her down onto his waiting cock. He hissed as she lowered herself even further until he filled her completely. Y/N paused, hands flat against Joaquín's chest to allow herself a moment to adjust to his size. "You good?" Joaquín asked, gently squeezing her side, and she nodded. 
"Yeah," Y/N breathed. "Yeah, I'm ready." 
There was a reason she always seemed to cave whenever Joaquín texted her. A reason she never told him to go fuck himself or any of the other things her roommate and friends suggested she say. A reason she snuck him in and out of her bedroom late at night or times when most  people were at class.
And it wasn't because she was stupid enough to have feelings for him again.
It was because he knew exactly what to do to make her body feel electric. It didn't matter if he was letting her ride him slow, fucking her fast from behind, or clutching her close to him as he stroked hard and deep–he knew exactly what her body craved and he gave it to her. He gave it to her with murmured bits of Spanish and breathless cursing and moans that made her chest constrict. He gave it to her with fingers that circled her clit and twisted her nipples and pulled her hair at all the right times. He gave it to her with hot, hard, and fierce kisses.
And as much as he gave, it was never enough. 
Even after her second orgasm left her feeling close to overstimulated and boneless, she still clutched at him. While she hardly had enough energy to raise her hips to meet his thrust, she locked her legs around him and pulled him closer as he buried his face in her shoulder. She stayed with him as his hips stuttered and strokes got sloppy and it became clear that he was going to come. 
Admittedly, Joaquín's orgasm face was rather dumb, ridiculous even, with his mouth hanging open and only a grunting sound coming out. But she kept her eyes trained on his face, not to remind her that this god in bed was a mere mortal who made stupid faces too, but because after he finished, when his face relaxed, he was nothing short of angelic. The corners of his mouth turned up just barely into a light smile and his eyes fluttered open and looked at her like she really was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. 
Joaquín placed a kiss on her shoulder as he helped to lower her legs back down to the bed, finally withdrawing from her to dispose of the condom in the trash by her bedside. It was all Y/N could do to catch her breath, her body hot and sweaty from the activity. Yet as Joaquín climbed back into the bed, she allowed him to pull her in close to him, arms wrapping around her, and chin resting on her shoulder. Because this was part of the deal with Joaquín and something that had almost made her doubt her initial assessment of him back when his body was brand new and she was still discovering all of the things it could do—after sex, he always stayed. Not necessarily the night, but long enough to hold and cuddle her and talk about things that didn't matter. 
"Better than studying?" he asked, and she let out a snort and nodded. 
"Yeah." 
"Good enough for Starbucks?" he asked, tilting his head to try to look at her face, and this time she gave a full laugh. 
"I'll meet you there at seven." 
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donottouchredbutton · 8 months
Text
Endlessly Falling
joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc
3k words
she was falling, and there was only one person she trusted to catch her.
set in the same universe as this fic
warnings: angst, fear, canon-typical violence but i think it's pretty vague, reader/ofc has a fear of heights, idk let me know if i'm missing anything
note: idk if this is any good, i wrote it in like four hours unedited while i was trying to distract myself from burnout from work. feedback is always welcome :) also let me know if you notice anything familiar about sunshine's backstory... idk maybe there's something there, maybe there's not. let me know what you think!
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She was running for her life. Again. She was really getting tired of this shit. 
She remembered a few weeks ago when the worst thing she had to worry about was getting her essays turned in on time, emailing her professors, and working on her thesis, back when she was just a grad student. Since meeting Joaquin, she found herself in trouble a lot more than she ever expected to be. 
That wasn’t to say this was the first time she’s ever had to run for her life, or that meeting Joaquin was the start of her getting into trouble. Or that meeting Joaquin was her first time helping a superhero. No, she had plenty of experience with this sort of thing. She remembered when she was a teenager the few (multiple) times when her dad’s work followed him home (literally) and having to hide or having to flee her own home just so he could take care of it. Terrifying as it was, she had learned to be good at finding the best hiding spots on the fly. And she still remembered when she was nineteen being trapped in a cage with a monster (who, to be fair, was her dad, but we won’t go into the specifics this time), with the intention of being mauled to death alongside a woman she barely knew. And just a year later, having to travel halfway across the world to help a superhero with identity issues to stop a cult and rescue her dad from said cult (her dad had a bad habit of getting himself into trouble, but he would always tell her that her uncle was even worse). 
Yeah. This wasn’t her first rodeo. And she was positive it wouldn’t be her last, either. 
But she sure as hell didn’t miss having to do this. 
Sam and Joaquin had both understood and agreed initially that they needed her help if they were going to stop this underground terrorist group. Bucky had been on the fence about it at first, thinking her too nice and innocent to get involved, but once she had proved herself in a fight the first time he had realized he had jumped the gun on judging her. She was a formidable opponent while still being able to maintain her happy nature and her positive, love-for-life attitude. 
Which was why she found herself in this position for the first time in years. She hadn’t meant to cause a distraction, she had just been sent by the men on a reconnaissance mission to one of their underground meetings while the three of them tried to take out their base of operations nearby. Even to her, the meeting was much bigger than she had been expecting, and the sound of the men updating her on their progress through her earpiece was only confirmation: they were a much bigger threat than they had initially believed. She had been listening to one of the leaders of the group as he slowly but surely began riling everyone up, his voice raising as he spoke to them about forcing order to the world and subjecting the people who had no care for them. He was nearly shouting at that point, and it was honestly beginning to frighten her. She was so ensnared by his words that the sound of Sam yelling through the earpiece completely threw her off her guard. 
“GET DOWN! IT’S A TRAP!”
The sound of gunshots on the other end of her earpiece caused her to gasp in fear, which caused her to slap her hand over her mouth in dread. She was scared for her friends, but she was also terrified at the sudden silence that happened in the room next to her after she did so. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as what was surely only a few seconds felt like years as she awaited what would happen. She didn’t dare breathe as she waited, her back pressed against the wall to make herself as small as possible. 
“Someone’s here with us. Take care of it.”
The leader’s words were just loud enough for her to hear, but it was more than enough to set her off at a sprint to get out of there. 
She had been running for what had felt like forever when she finally thought to check in with the others to make sure they were okay, and to find out what the hell happened. 
“What the hell happened?” she shouted through the earpiece. 
“They knew we were coming! It was a setup!” Sam shouted back. He and Bucky were fighting off terrorists left and right as they themselves tried to get out of the base. Their initial plan had been to find the leaders at the base and to either a) reason with them and get them to come willingly (Sam’s idea) or b) stop them by any means necessary (Bucky’s idea), but the three men had been met with nearly an entire army once they got there like they knew they were coming. The place had been booby trapped of all things, tipping the group off so that they opened fire seconds later. They all knew that if they were in trouble, she would be too. “Get outta there, now!”
“I’m trying!”
And she was. Unfortunately for her, the place was a maze, and with about ten angry men chasing after her, it was hard for her to focus on where all of the hallways led to rather than just trying to get away from them. Her fear was making it hard to think, and luckily it was making it hard to think about the fear itself. She just needed to get away. 
The sound of Joaquin’s voice in her ear immediately began to uncloud her mind. “Find a way to go up! Stairs, ladder, window, anything! I’ll come find you!”
She wasn’t able to think about how he would be able to do so, but she listened to him anyway. She trusted him enough to believe he was telling the truth. 
Truthfully, Joaquin didn’t know if he was. He had split from Sam and Bucky once they had opened fire, Sam telling him to fly out of there to find their superior and tell them all they had learned about the group. He often thought about what it would be like to jump out as Falcon, but he wasn’t exactly able to reflect on those expectations when he was in the middle of a life or death situation. He thought once he did so that he was in the clear, but there had been a couple of helicopters right outside waiting for him. So, they had air support. Of fucking course they did. 
Joaquin was sure that their superior would get an earful from Sam once they were finally on the clear (if they ever got to that point). He was doing his best to take out the people shooting at him from the helicopters, making sure they stayed focused on him so they wouldn’t start shooting elsewhere, but the entire time his focus was elsewhere. He couldn’t keep his mind off of her, and he was riddled with guilt. 
Joaquin was the one who had fought so hard to convince Sam and Bucky that she could help them on this mission. While they had both known she could handle herself, they were hesitant to let her go into the field with them, especially on a mission like this. She would have to get about as close as she physically could to this terrorist group without them finding out she was there, and they weren’t willing to risk her getting hurt or worse if something went wrong. It was the last thing Joaquin ever wanted, but he saw how hard she fought to convince them. He saw her conviction and determination, and more than anything, he saw that she truly cared. She just wanted to help, and Joaquin knew that. She was running for her life right now because he was the one to convince them to let her help. 
She was in danger because of him. 
He was right about her needing to find a way up. She had found a door that led her to a staircase all the way up to the roof. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see how close the men were, finding them far away enough for her to be able to lock the door behind her. If she wasn’t running for her life, she would’ve thought about how it definitely seemed like a safety issue for the door to even have a lock, but she was more concerned about buying herself at least a minute or two to get to the top. She didn’t look back again after she locked the door and began to race up the stairs, not until she heard the sound of a gunshot blowing the door open. The information that they did have guns with them scared her more than she thought it would. They liked the chase, and they didn’t want the end to be quick if they did catch her. The thought made her blood run cold, and a new wave of adrenaline filled her as she continued to run. 
Once she reached the roof, once again locking the door behind her to buy herself some time, she looked out to try to find Joaquin anywhere nearby, but he was nowhere to be found. She braced herself as she looked over the edge of the building she was on, and the realization of just how far up she was was quick to set in. She hadn’t realized how long the staircase was nor how far up she had run, but the sight of the city what looked like miles beneath her caused her heart to beat faster for a completely different reason. She could handle most things—monsters, cults, running for her life. Heights weren’t one of those things. 
“Joaquin,” she said. She tried to steady the tremble in her voice, trying to control her breathing. 
“I’m on my way!” he shouted back, trying to dodge the helicopter that was currently shooting at him. He was not on his way, but he needed to be soon if he wanted any chance of getting to her in time. 
The sound of the men chasing her banging on the door to the roof made her jolt, dread filling her veins like venom. They were throwing themselves against the door to get it open. Unsuccessfully, sure, but the knowledge that they had the means to get the door open with their weapons made her believe that this was just a sadistic scare tactic. The thought made her sick. 
“Joaquin,” she warned. She was unable to hide the fear she felt from her voice. Even she could hear her voice shake. 
So could Joaquin, and he knew they were both running out of time. Taking out the pilot in the final helicopter, he set the thrusters of his wings to full power before jetting off to where she was. 
“I’m on my way!” he shouted once again, but he knew that he wouldn’t be there in enough time. Thinking fast, he added, “You’re gonna have to jump!”
Her stomach dropped at the thought. “I can’t,” she whispered. But she knew she was running out of options. The men chasing her would get tired of playing with her, and in seconds they would be out there with her. She’d have nowhere else to go. Her hands were already shaking as the reality of what she had to do was setting in. 
And she was right. The sound of the door to the roof being blown open made her jump, and the sight of the men closing in on her filled her with a fear she hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“JOAQUIN!”
“JUMP!”
She didn’t think. She ran to the edge of the building and jumped, right before they could grab her. 
She’s fallen before. She’s fallen out of tall trees when she was little, her dad constantly scolding her for climbing trees when she knew she might fall, but that’s why she always did it—to get better at climbing without falling. She’s jumped off of high platforms, trying to get down from where she was to try to help someone who needed it. She’s been thrown off of the side of a building before, but even then that was done when she was unconscious. This was something different. Being in free fall for so long, that sinking feeling in her gut never leaving but slowly getting worse as she seemed to fall closer to the ground in slow motion. The air whipped at her as if punishing her for jumping, her fear only growing as it felt like she would be endlessly falling. 
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think to breathe. She couldn’t think, her mind somewhere up in the clouds that she seemed to remember falling through when she jumped. Her eyes were dripping with tears she couldn’t stop as the cool air burned them as she went. Another punishment, she thought. The air was thin, too, choking her up even more. She couldn’t find her voice, though if she did, she wouldn’t have been able to think about calling for Joaquin again. She couldn’t think about whether he would catch her in time. She just had to continue falling. 
Joaquin’s heart raced as he did, his sights set on her as he flew to catch her. He could hear the fear in her voice when she said she couldn’t jump, it had been clear as day to him that she was afraid to. He hadn’t wanted to make her do it, but he knew she had to. And he knew he would rather die than let her hit the ground. He wouldn’t let her get hurt again. He would make sure of it. 
When he was finally close enough, his arms reaching for her, Joaquin felt time stop. He couldn’t think. The only thing he could focus on as he reached for her was her eyes. Those eyes he had seen could hold such light and happiness as he had come to know her, those same eyes that were squeezed shut from fear and wet with tears he knew she couldn’t stop. Once he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, never daring to let go. 
Once she felt him surrounding her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, aware enough to not choke him but clutching onto him like her life depended on it, because it did. There was nothing that would get her to let go. And now that he was holding her, she could finally feel herself breathe again. 
They were both silent as he flew them away from the building, away from all of the bad men who wished them harm, away from where she felt for a moment she was falling to her death. The pit in her stomach from falling was gone, replaced with something else she couldn’t place. She still felt sick feeling her insides shaken so much, but it wasn’t just that. She felt a pull inside her, not in her stomach but maybe in her chest. She couldn’t know for sure, still barely able to think or process what was going on. The only thing she knew for sure at that moment was that she felt well and truly safe wrapped up in Joaquin’s arms. 
Joaquin finally landed them on the roof of another building, much much shorter than the one she had jumped from and miles away. With the way she was clutching onto his back, he knew she could use a moment to stand on her own two legs and catch her breath. Once his feet touched the ground, he slowly eased her down as well, taking care to handle her gently for fear of causing her any more grief. His arms didn’t leave her even as she got her footing, nor did they when she leaned heavily against him once she was standing. She was still gripping him for dear life, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He was sure he was holding her in a similar way. 
“Are you okay?” he asked after a few minutes. He always made sure that she was, and if she wasn’t, he always did what he could to help. 
“…Yeah,” she answered slowly, barely audible if it weren’t for her mouth being so close to his ear. “Just… need a minute.” 
Joaquin knew that they didn’t have a minute. He should’ve already been with his superior by now, finishing up with the debrief as they waited for Sam and Bucky to return as well. But he wasn’t concerned with any of that right now. The only thing he cared about was the woman in his arms, shaking like a leaf as she tried to calm down. For her, he would make the time. 
He readjusted his arms around her so that he was hugging her instead, one arm around her waist while the other came up to her shoulders, his hand holding her head against him and stroking her hair. He tried to steady his breathing in a way that she could follow, willing his own heart rate to slow down as he tried to help her calm down. 
She wasn’t the only one who had felt like they were endlessly falling. The only difference was, his had been slow and steady, hardly noticing it was happening until it hit him all at once. And he knew he would fall again and again if it meant getting to hold her like this. 
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ao3feed-sambucky · 11 months
Text
Together, Again, For the First Time
read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47758393
by starcat1701
Sam has thought about what it would be like to see Bucky again, of course he has. Scenarios and outcomes have popped into his head over the years, often at the most inopportune times. He thought he’d imagined all the possibilities, but somehow ‘sitting across the table from Bucky listening to Scott Lang and Stephen Strange argue about the fate of the multiverse’ failed to make it on to his bingo card.
Words: 3379, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Joaquín Torres, Yelena Belova, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, Stephen Strange, Bruce Banner, Loki (Marvel), Mobius M. Mobius, Wong (Marvel), Other Marvel Characters
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson
Additional Tags: Multiverse, Post-Movie: Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (2023), Speculation for Avengers: The Kang Dynasty (Marvel Cinematic Universe), The Next Generation of Avengers, Speculation for Thunderbolts (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Captain America Sam Wilson, Speculation for Captain America: Brave New World (Marvel Cinematic Universe), POV Sam Wilson, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Pining, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Bickering
read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47758393
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fluffyprettykitty · 8 months
Note
For your summer sleepover 🩵 neighbour!Joaquin + saying goodbye at the door
pairing: neighbor!joaquin torres x female reader
words: ~500
a/n: thank you bb for this ask! <;3 I decided to go with the fluffy/funny route with this
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You linger a little watching your new neighbor carrying your big pot from your car to your door. His muscular arms peeking under his black t-shirt, a glimpse of a golden chain shining at the back of his neck and the way he just seemed to want to help, it all made you incredibly attracted to you.
"Is this spot alright?" He asks as he turns around with a big smile on his face. God you could get lost inside it, it felt like he could power through the whole world with the warm energy he emitted.
"Yes." You stammer a little, you have no idea where you want your pot anyway, it's not like you can remember.
"I can place it anywhere you like." You chuckle as you come close to him.
"I think my mom wants it next to the door, she'll move it when she comes back from work."
"I can come by later, we'll be at the house shaping it, it's no problem for me." God, his friendly nature made you want to jump right into his arms.
"Oh, we wouldn't want to impose ourselves too much, honestly if I dragged it a little, I'd make it."
Joaquin smiled and pointed at the big heavy pot. "Well, no reason for you to break your back when I'm around."
You tried very hard to control yourself and not say something completely unhinged. Joaquin shrugged at your silence and awkwardly gestured to leave.
"Wait." You shook your head." You gotta let me make it up to you, somehow."
"Hmm." Joaquin mused and pointed at the lemon tree right next to your porch. "If you got any homemade lemonade that's my favourite."
You widened your eyes and looked between him and the tree and almost panicked because you can't remember if you got any.
"You know what." You smiled, "What about I collect some and I make you some freshly squeezed this afternoon?"
Joaquin nodded his head and beamed. Thank God your brain worked only momentarily.
"Tonight then."
"Tonight." You nodded and looked at him. You both spent a few moments looking at each other not really wanting to leave even though you had already made plans for tonight. You both stayed there smiling at each other until a honk was heard pulling you back to reality.
"Oh, shit, I gotta get to work." Your friend frantically waved from the driver's window. Joaquin chuckled bid you goodbye and headed down the street.
"New piece huh." Your friend giggled as you got inside the car. "Oh, shut up." You turned the volume up and pulled your phone up googling how to make lemonade.
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cobrafantasies · 1 year
Text
Living the (Wet) Dream
Sam, Bucky, Joaquín | Rated M | 2,174 words | Complete | AO3
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Written to fulfill square S3 - AU: Pornstar - Round 2 of WinterFalcon Bingo from @winterfalconevents
Summary: Joaquín Torres is living the (wet) dream when he moves next door to two famous pornstars and never imagines the day they'll invite him over.
Excerpt:
It's happening again.
It always starts with the low creaking, the soft thumping. Joaquín knows every sound so well at this point, the bed frame doesn't even need to hit the wall in the apartment next door. Joaquín can imagine it himself.
The tempo always starts easy and then it increases bit by bit and that's when the moaning start, the cursing, the hisses. Just thinking about what's to come makes Joaquín's skin burn hot all over. This happens every single night, multiple times a night.
A long moan sounds through the wall behind him. This is only the start, Joaquín braces himself as he unintentionally bites down on his lip and palms the front of his shorts.
His friends don't believe him. Honestly, the day Joaquín moved into this apartment and found out his next-door neighbors were the famous Sammy Wilson and Bucky Barnes, two of the hottest pornstars in the industry who also happen to be endearingly dating and living together in real life, he could barely digest it was real either.
He ran into them the first day he was moving in. Being young and basically broke, Joaquín was mainly moving himself. Lugging boxes after boxes of all his stuff left him a sweaty mess when he suddenly turned around to find the two well-known men standing in the hall.
Joaquín instantly recognized them and christ, they're even more attractive in person, Joaquín remembers thinking.
"Hey," Sammy Wilson breathed with a kind smile. 
His partner, Bucky Barnes, was standing next to him and his eyes raked down Joaquin's embarrassing outfit of old high school track shorts, high socks, worn down sneakers and a baggy, plain t-shirt that was drenched in sweat.
Joaquín tried to will his face into anything other than an expression that screamed: I know who you are, holy fuck, I've jerked off to you guys so many times! Why are you standing in the hallway of my new apartment complex?
"Um, hi," Joaquín choked out, recalling a very not cool squeak that accompanied the lame greeting.
Read on AO3
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bobfloydsbabe · 2 years
Text
kiss me | joaquín torres x oc
Rating: Teen and up Word count: 600+ Warning(s): Kissing (?) Summary: On a casual night out, Isra Atkins has finally had enough of holding back.
A/N: A birthday gift for my darling friend @anna-phora who's the entire reason that Isra exists and that my obsession with Joaquín Torres has gone as far as it has. I know I said this wouldn't happen until tomorrow, but I couldn't wait. Enjoy!
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“Oh, for god’s sake, Torres, just kiss me.”
It seemed they’d been doing this back and forth game for hours, and though Isra considered herself a patient woman, this was bordering on ridiculous.
Joaquin swallowed hard. “What?” He croaked.
“You’re going to sit there,” she said, gesturing vaguely at his position next to her, “and tell me you haven’t been thinking about it.”
He looked around him as if not entirely sure she was actually talking to him though he was the only person anywhere near them in the entire bar. He turned his dark eyes back to her. “I… I wasn’t… I… No.”
“No, as in you haven’t thought about it, or you don’t want to?”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He closed it again and gave her an unsure look, trying to figure out how he got himself into this mess.
Isra knew she hadn’t misinterpreted the situation, but she had clearly caught him off guard. She scooted a bit away from him in the booth, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than he already was.
He didn’t let her.
One of his hands grasped her arm while the other took hold of her hip, and he pulled her close to him. The booth made their position a little awkward, but Isra didn’t have it in her to care. He smelled like sunshine.
She looked up and met his dark eyes, filled with something primal and needy, and no one’s touch had ever set her on fire quite like his.
He opened his mouth again, and this time the words did come. “I haven’t thought about anything else for weeks.”
“I know,” she whispered, face so close to his that she could feel his hot breath.
His brows drew together. “You know?”
“You’re not exactly subtle,” she muttered, eyes flickering down to his lips. That and she’d overheard Sam and Bucky tease him about it before they left, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, the corners of his lips turned up in a teasing grin. 
Fed up and desperate, Isra grabbed his face between her hands and brought his lips to hers. He responded right away as his arms snaked around her waist, bringing their bodies together, and Isra swore she could feel his heart beat in time with hers.
She wouldn’t say she had imagined kissing him many times, but the thought had crossed her mind once or twice. When he discussed the Falcon wings with the kind of excitement and childlike wonder she imagined kids felt on Christmas morning. When he kept making her tea until he eventually got it right. On nights like this, when she’d looked at his mouth more than she’d listened to him speak.
He sighed into her mouth, or maybe she sighed into his, she didn’t quite know. All her senses were filled with him. One of his hands had moved from her hip to the back of her neck, the way she was practically sitting in his lap now, and how it still wasn’t close enough.
She had kissed plenty of people, but none of them had ever felt like this, like him. A small part of her thought that he had ruined everyone else for her, and maybe someday, she would tell him that. For now, she pulled away from him but kept their foreheads pressed together.
Their breathing was heavy, and his thumb brushed against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. Isra opened her eyes and met his brown ones, pupils blown with lust and need.
When she spoke, her voice was nothing but a whisper. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
His nod was almost imperceptible, but his eyes spoke volumes.
❋❋❋
all or nothing tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @jvstjewels, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @waterloou, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @lukespatterson
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Do y'all want a sneak peek on a Joaquin x Reader AU I've been working on for a while? It's loosely inspired by "The Hating Game". It was requested anonymously a while ago I just completed the first draft :)
There is a movie based on the book, you can watch the trailer here.
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(Sorry I have been inactive lately, I have semester finals till 5 June, it's horrible.)🥲
Regular Taglist
@tuiccim  @parkjammys  @akinrawsx  @asteph22  @iamthebeth @cristinatheloser  @thefandomqueenuno  @onlyhereforthefics  @yikesdameron  @hoennsficrecs  @savedfanfics1992  @amigaytho  @samwilson-mylove  @xbuchananbarnes  @jenniweaslee
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Text
Anti-Military MCU AU
After I posted this rant, I decided to actually make a coherent list for a non-military-based MCU AU, because I honestly refuse to ever put the military in a good light in my fics ever again just because my favorite characters tend to be part of it. Not everything will be relevant for every fic, I’ll just use this as a general outline to link back to for the readers. Each point might be expanded in the future if something becomes more important some time and needs more detailing, but I don’t actually plan to dwell on details, I only want to use those points for background info. Does everything really work out with canon? No. Do I care? Also no. I simply do what I want :)
Steve Rogers never joins the army, he subjects himself to the experiments of Dr. Erskine, Howard Stark and Peggy Carter who work on their own to bring down HYDRA, and not with the military. He becomes the first and only Super Human and rescues Bucky and the Howlies who then leave the army (which they never wanted to join anyway, but got drafted) and join him in his quest to defeat HYDRA. They become famous that way and Steve gets the hero name Captain Amazing (if anyone has a better idea, I’m begging you tell me, but I refuse to continue with the Captain America bullshit). You can imagine his suit and shield to look like whatever you want, as long as it’s not the American flag. The USO tour doesn’t happen obviously but who cares anyway.
Howard and Peggy found S.H.I.E.L.D. whose fundamentals are anti-military and anti-government right from the beginning and solely there to help people. (In a world where a dude turns into a giant green monster when he’s angry there can also be an American ABC agency that is actually good. No, good military fuckshit is still not allowed.)
Or S.H.I.E.L.D. turns out to be corrupt even without the HYDRA parasite in its midst and our heroes don’t work with them anymore, which I’m also fine with. Depends on the fic, I guess.
Carol Danvers and Maria Rambeau work at NASA as aspiring astronauts where then during a test flight Carol still crashes her plane and becomes Captain Marvel.
Tony Stark and Stark Industries in general never sold weapons but always focused on new advanced technology, especially AI’s and Green Energy ever since Tony became CEO. Somehow, Obadiah develops weapons behind Tony’s back and sells them on the black market for more money. (Look, if “Somehow, Palpatine returned” can be an actual line in Star Wars, then I can do that shit too.) Tony gets kidnapped from home by the Ten Rings who want him to make even better weapons than Stane, but instead he makes the Iron Man armor and fucks off the same way. This all gets dramatically revealed at the press conference later. (Yes, I am aware that the important enlightenment and character arc don’t happen that way, but let’s just imagine that Tony used to be a rich piece of shit until after the kidnapping and meeting Yinsen which changes him. I do what I want.)
James Rhodes used to be an aerospace engineer at NASA (I have no idea if those learn to fly as well, but in this AU they do), and later turns to politics. Maybe I’ll make him even President in some fics. He owns his own small plane which Tony bought him and searches for Tony in Afghanistan that way himself without any military support shit. Obviously, he still becomes Iron Patriot War Machine. Not everyone likes to see a politician in a superhero role, but most love him.
Sam Wilson used to be either an engineer or aspiring astronaut at NASA as well, the falcon suit was brought to them for testing out by SI (I don’t care how little sense that makes, I do what I want), so he still got his flying wings and all, but after Riley’s death, he leaves and becomes a counselor. He’s still first the Falcon but later takes on the mantle as Captain Amazing. (The whole TFATWS plot happens too, but different.)
Joaquín Torres is a vigilante who meets Sam while trying to hunt down the Flag Smashers and then later gets the Falcon wings from Sam. He learns to use them by trial and error because I don’t believe you need to be a pilot to understand how they work.
Other small side characters like Nick Fury or Maria Hill were simply never in the military.
S.H.I.E.L.D. and The Avengers don’t just barge into other countries whenever the fuck they feel like it in typical American Imperialism Fashion but actually seek permission first unless there’s a literal apocalypse going on. Because this is a world where a dude can turn into a green monster when he’s angry, the other countries tend to trust them even though they’re Americans lol.
Everyone is anti-military unless they’re a villain.
I do what I want.
Hope this helps <3
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3thurs · 4 months
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Third Thursday events and exhibitions for January 18
The next Third Thursday — the monthly evening of art in Athens, Georgia — is scheduled for Thursday, January 18, from 6 to 9 p.m. All exhibitions are free and open to the public. This schedule and each venue’s location and hours of operation are available at 3thurs.org.
Georgia Museum of Art, University of Georgia
Yoga in the Galleries, 6 p.m. — This free yoga class surrounded by works of art in the galleries is led by instructors from Five Points Yoga and open to both beginner and experienced yogis. Sanitized mats are provided. Space is limited and spots are available on a first-come, first-served basis; tickets are available at the front desk starting at 5:15 p.m.
On view:
“Nancy Baker Cahill: Through Lines” — Baker Cahill’s first solo museum show expands upon her background in traditional media and redefines the possibilities of drawing in contemporary art through augmented reality.
“In Dialogue: Power Couple: Pierre and Louise Daura in Paris” — Portraits of Joaquín Torres-García’s daughters by Pierre Daura and Louise Heron Blair.
“Decade of Tradition: Highlights from the Larry D. and Brenda A. Thompson Collection” — Selections from Larry and Brenda Thompson’s gift of works by African American artists.
“Power and Piety in 17th-Century Spanish Art” — Works by premiere Spanish baroque painters such as Francisco de Zurbarán, Bartolomé Murillo, Pedro Orrente and others, on loan from Bob Jones University Museum & Gallery.
Permanent Collection: A wide range of the museum’s permanent collection is always on view, featuring painting, sculpture, works on paper and decorative arts from the Renaissance to contemporary periods.
The museum’s days of operation are Tuesday – Sunday. Reserve a free ticket and see our policies at https://georgiamuseum.org/visit/.
ATHICA: Athens Institute for Contemporary Art
ATHICA@675 Pulaski St., Suite 1200:
“Onodera & Pearse: Contrasts & Correlations” — Sculptural applications of metal, paper, gravity, motion and more.
ATHICA@CINÉ Gallery:
“Skitterings: New Works by Don Chambers” — Collage, drawing and painting techniques variously incorporating colored pencil, graphite, watercolor, acrylic and rust.
Lyndon House Arts Center
The Arts Center will be hosting the Georgia Association of Museums conference dinner on Third Thursday.
On view:
“Memory Worker: Kelly Taylor Mitchell” — Mitchell’s multidisciplinary practice centers oral history and ancestral memory, real and imagined, woven into the fabric of the African Diaspora. Her work is deeply invested in labor-intensive making, slowness and homespun passed-down processes resulting in works of printmaking, papermaking, performance, book arts and textiles.
“Tell Me A Story: Works by Jasmine Best” — Best, a current master of fine arts candidate at UGA’s Lamar Dodd School of Art, uses her memories and manipulations of them to create dialogues about the Black female identity. She explores the folk story traditions of the Black South through tangible and traditional mediums such as fabric and yarn combined with digital sewing.
The Athenaeum
Closed on this Third Thursday.
The Classic Center
Classic Gallery I: “Wild Thing” — Featuring works by Amanda Jane Burk, Shelby Little, Margo Newmark Rosenbaum and Carolyn Suzanne Schew.
Classic Gallery II: “Love.Craft Athens: Include :: Empower :: Educate” — Love.Craft Athens makes and sells art by differently abled adults. This show includes works by Hannah Jo, Norman Austin Junior, Melanie Jackson and Brittany Wortham.
tiny ATH gallery
“3rd Annual Clean Your Closet” — This exhibition will feature multiple pieces of work from many local artists in a pop-up show with everything priced at $200 or less. C’mon out and take some new art home with you. 
ACE/FRANCISCO Gallery
“Kashi Washi” — Photographs by Jason Thrasher. In November 2023, photographer Jason Thrasher embarked on a journey to Benares, India, to revisit a specific street corner where he had spent two weeks in 1998. Like any community, people had relocated, passed away and aged, but a notable number of shop owners and boatmen were still actively working and living there. The term "Kashi Washi” refers to the individuals who live and work along the riverbank in this sacred city.
Third Thursday was established in 2012 to encourage attendance at Athens’ established art venues through coordination and co-promotion by the organizing entities. 
Contact: Michael Lachowski, Georgia Museum of Art, [email protected].
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