#joaquin torres drabble

[yourauthorjen]

domestic head cannons w joaquin?

YESSS and when you walk into the kitchen, groggy, in the morning, there’s already two cups of coffee or tea sitting on the counter in some sort of flourish.

and of course there’s joaquin, standing in front of the stove, shirtless and hair an absolute mess, making whatever new dish he conjured up in his head the night before. his muscles are taught, catching the soft glow of the first light that shine through the window as he spins around a wide smile on his face when he sees you.

and as you’re still tiredly trying to process what the hell is going on, he sweeps you into his arms rambling about some crazy idea he had while he was flipping eggs.

weirdly, he’s also really good at folding laundry. it gets to the point where he’ll rearrange your entire closet because he was bored— colour coded and everything.

he does that for your books too.

you once walked in on him ankles deep in your pile of books, alphabetically ordering them onto the bookshelf. he had looked up guiltily, trying to defend himself, but you just kissed his nose and sat down next to him, helping him organize.

other times when your not at home, joaquin likes to drag you to the most random places around town— just because they “look cool online”.

sometimes he’ll take you to the middle of nowhere to have a goddman picnic. other times its a flea markert two towns over where he’ll spend forever trying to stubbornly convince you to buy some hideous porcelain figure because he thinks they’re special.

once he spent twenty minutes listing out reasons why the two of you should’ve bought an ugly frog statue, because joaquin thought it had a personality. you ended up hauling his ass out of the stand before turning back around almost immediately to let him purchase it, because he looked so sad.

when the afterlight rolls around, and the sun fades into the horizon, you always find yourself curled up in joaquin’s arms, legs tangled, blanket half on the floor with the steady sound of his breathing vibrating against your skin.

there are times where he’ll mumble something that sounds suspiciously like your name as he’s dozing off, before his hand finds yours.

it’s always sweet, being with joaquin, and you love it because he’s always there. and no matter the amount of times you’ve tried to convince him to take a break, he always just rolls his eyes and shakes his head saying, “there’s no such thing as doing too much for you.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

Joaquin is trying really hard not to laugh as you lean all your weight into him as he opens your front door.

“You said we were going home Joaquin.”

He chuckles then, “We are home,” he wraps an arm behind him to hold onto your waist as he pushes open the door.

He needs to change that hinge.

“But this is my apartment, I wanted to sleep in your bed.” Your voice catches as you speak. Joaquin can tell tears are near.

He shakes his head, amusement lighting his face as he sets the keys in the dish near the door and sits you on the sofa.

“Amor,” he presses a kiss into your knee, spotting a bruise from the bar that he’s not sure how you got. “We live together.”

Joaquin’s hands are quick as they free your feet from your heels.

A quiet, “Oh,” leaves you at his words.

His hands massage the arches of your feet, chuckling a little when you squirm.

“Want some water?” You shake your head, cheek pressed into the back of the couch as you look down at him.

“Want a kiss,” he sits up and kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. “A real kiss.” You whine and Joaquin laughs now, right in your face.

His forehead touches your chin, “We’re going to bed, nena. Just to bed.” But he lifts his head and gets a glimpse of your puppy dog eyes and he indulges in a quick peck to your lips.

You grumble, “Not being fair.” But Joaquin pretends he doesn’t hear you as he lifts you off the couch.

Joaquin carries you all the way to the bathroom, pushing your hair back with a headband he’s seen you use many times.

He has to remove your hands from neck twice when you pull him flush to your chest, trapping him against you.

“Baby,” he laughs, hugging you back before pulling away a little. You’re pouting at him severely. Joaquin already knows what you want from him.

“Just one.” You plead and he sighs.

He’s not really great at denying you, and presses his lips against yours.

Your lips move lazily and they lack a little coordination, but Joaquin makes it work. One hand cups your cheek, stabilizing you against him.

When he pulls away your lips are a little swollen and glossy.

“Better?” He asks and you nod, a happy smile on your face as you sit still again for him to finish going through your skincare.

His fingers are gentle as they scrub your eyes and face. Circular motions lulling you to sleep.

“You falling asleep on me?” He whispers and you shake your head, all slow and heavy like your head’s weighing your movements down.

“Wanna sleep with you.”

His eyebrows raise, “Oh yeah?”

You open your eyes and Joaquin gets lost in them for a moment. They’re intense pools to stare into and sometimes he wishes he were an artist, so he could render their depth.

“Yeah, we can do it naked.”

He laughs again, kissing your forehead. “As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

Joaquin doesn’t let you sleep naked, instead you’re wearing one of his old Air Force t-shirts and underwear.

You cuddle up next to him, a vice-like grip on him as he lays beside you. You fall asleep before he even says goodnight.

[jordiemeow]

joaquin torres the kinda guy to help you take your makeup off after an event so it doesn't smudge or smear on your pillowcase when he fucks you

FUCK yeah this is so real thank u... so intimate mmm

the pair of you probably make it through about three hours of 'playing nice' before sneaking out of a gala early, giggling like teenagers. by the time you get to his apartment, your lipstick is smudged from laughing and kissing him in the elevator, glitter shadow halfway to being a mess and heels abandoned down the hall. tipsy but not quite drunk—enough to know you just want dicked down as soon as possible.

but, after peeling off your dress (real slow so he can unveil each inch of your body with rapt attention), he kisses your forehead and leaves you pouting in just your panties on his bed. there's some rustling from his bathroom before he emerges with a cotton pad and some micellar water. what a sweetheart.

"hold still, hermosa," he croons, laughter still injected into his voice.

you're not the most co-operative, laying down and making him brace above you to wipe you down while making comments about him trying to seduce you with skincare. he drags the damp pad gently along your lashes, and you blink at him slowly, caught in the intimacy of it. the way he’s looking at you, how warm his hand feels cupping your jaw for balance, mouth curved up into a smile but with a little pinch of concentration between his brows.

"you're gonna blind me," you mutter, trying to squirm away. a gentle (but firm) hand keeps you in place as he wipes dutifully at your mascara.

"i would never," he replies, eyes twinkling down at you. "then i couldn't make eye contact when you cum."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the way your cheeks burn up and your thighs clench together. when he finishes, he tosses the used cotton into the bin and presses his forehead to yours.

"there. now i can fuck you without worrying about your face melting into my pillow."

"you're a real gentleman, huh?" you laugh, breath hitched with arousal.

"the best kind," he agrees without question, fixing you with a dimpled smile before working his way down your stomach. slow, open-mouthed kisses, one hand toying with a nipple while your spine arches up towards him to chase the sensation of his warm mouth. he kisses your navel, your hipbone, the inside of your thigh. you’re already wet—embarrassingly so—and he hasn’t even touched you where you're craving it most. he noses at your inner thigh, inhaling, humming, just breathing in your scent.

when he pulls your panties down, joaquín dives in with a kind of enthusiasm that should be illegal. tongue flattening against your slit, licking one long stripe up before circling your clit in practiced swirls. he groans shamelessly into you, eyes fluttering shut like you’re the one doing something to him, and that alone nearly tips you over.

he's in no rush. he lingers, letting you grind against his mouth, moaning right back as you lose your rhythm, alternating between soft, slow licks and sharp flicks of his tongue as he holds your thighs open. then he speeds up just enough to push you over, murmuring your name against your clit as you cry out and cum on his tongue. you can barely make out his praises about how good you taste over the ringing in your ears.

when he pulls back, his face is wet, his grin smug, and his voice low and rough. "still glad I took your makeup off first?"

you’re still catching your breath, but you manage a laugh, dazed and glowing. "best skincare routine ever."

you watch him undress before he climbs over you, kissing you slow and filthy, letting you taste yourself on his lips. his cock presses hard and heavy against your thigh, and you whimper into his mouth, already greedy for more.

"turn around," he whispers. "gotta take care of you right."

and god, he does. joaquín fucks you real nice and slow, deep strokes that have his name babbled endlessly into his pillow, your cheek pressed into the satin. you can feel him pressed against your back, brushing your hair to the side so he can watch you come undone around his cock for a second time. his bare-faced beauty girlfriend, face contorted in ecstasy when your body tenses up and your cunt milks him dry.

the pillowcase stays clean. you, on the other hand, are absolutely ruined.

[rhaenyraeri]

getting caught with joaquin torres <3

joaquin torres x fem!new avenger!reader

minors dni, 18+!!!

you’re a new avenger, he’s on sam’s team of avengers. what could go wrong?

he wasn’t supposed to be here; he shouldn’t be.

that’s the thought racing through your mind as joaquin knelt at the end of your bed, pulling your legs to place them over his shoulders, causing you to yelp.

“shhh, baby. quiet,” he murmured, breath hot against your core, “gotta stay quiet for me.”

your fingers tangle into his hair, grabbing at his hair as his tongue slid over you painfully slow, just enough to work you up. joaquin didn’t like to rush, not when it came to you. especially not when you’re laid out before him like this. his tongue felt around you, savoring the taste of his girl. your heart beat faster as the sight of his head between your thighs as he all but buried himself into your pussy, as well as the added secrecy and heightened adrenaline, flooded your mind.

you shouldn’t have let your boyfriend stay, knowing the repercussions of being caught. tensions were high between the teams now— the thunderbolts/new avengers and sam’s avengers team. but that didn’t stop him nor you from seeing each other. but never once did you sneak into the bases of the other, until tonight.

“joaquin,” you moaned, trying to whisper as to not alert anyone, “you.. we can’t..”

he hummed against your clit, licking like a man starved, then pulled away, “i know, cariño, i know.. please let me have this. i’ll be gone before they get back, i promise.”

you nodded, throwing your head back in pleasure as he went back to your pussy. his tongue swept deep motions that sent you arching your back off the bed, using your free hand to clamp over your mouth. keeping this quiet heightened your senses, focusing in on how good he was. too good. your thighs started to tremble around his head, lightly clenching around the dark curls.

“are you fucking serious right now?”

it was bucky.

his voice bounced off the walls, sounding louder than it actually was due to the silence. you reach out to grab an article of clothing, but in the panic you couldn’t find one, so you pull joaquin’s hair to get him to stop.

but he didn’t stop. he didn’t skip over a swipe of his tongue or a suck to your core. his eyes just flicked up towards your bedroom door, looking at the soldier before him.

“kinda in the middle of something,” he mumbled his answer against your pussy, the feeling of his lips ghosting over you causing you to clench.

“torres,” bucky’s voice roared, growling his name like a command, “off her. now.”

he grunted in disagreement, but unwillingly removed your legs from his shoulders and stood up. his mouth shined with your slick and his own spit combined, “i told you, man. we’re busy.”

“b-bucky, i,” you tried to defuse the tension, but to no avail. he’d already seen way more of you than you ever thought he would. now he’s upset at the sight before him, knowing what would happen if you were caught by literally anyone else.

your eyes took their gaze from joaquin to bucky, who looked like he was holding back from punching the man before you. his jaw clenched, then he sighed. “you’ve got five minutes before the others make their way through the tower. both of you better handle this before it becomes everyone else’s issue too. get straightened up.”

bucky slammed the door, his loud steps trailing off down the hall.

you looked back to joaquin, who was staring at the door. he felt your eyes on him, and he looked down at you, eyes dark and still filled with lust. instead of apologizing for getting the two of you caught or for putting you in that position, he knelt back down between your still-spread legs, kissing up your thigh.

you opened your mouth to stop him, but he cut you off. “he said we got five minutes, baby. but i only need one.”

[bruisedboys]

I just know that Joaquin gives the BEST hugs. Like his arms omg 😩 so perfect for picking you up and twirling you around. Or for burying your face in his chest when ur sad. Idk I just love him and his fucking biceps

yess absolutely!!!! omg the thing about burying ur face in his chest … I’m taking that and running with it thank u lovely anon

joaquín torres who gives the best hugs and always seems to know exactly when you need one, even if you’re too shy or embarrassed or upset to ask. he knows you like the back of his hand, and he won’t ever pass up the opportunity to give you a hug!!

like, maybe you’re at an event that joaquín and sam have been asked to attend, and you’re joaquín’s plus one (as you always are). you’re having a great time, but it’s been a long night and you’re really tired, and sick of talking to anyone who’s not joaquín. your boyfriend notices, of course he does, and pulls you to the side out of the way of the crowd. “hey, are you okay?” he asks, a fond concern etched into his face that makes your chest ache. and you nod, because you really are okay, especially when he’s looking at you like that, you’re just a little drained. joaquín must guess as much, because he rubs your arm, “you want a hug?” he asks. he waits for you to nod again before wrapping you in his strong arms and giving you a good squeeze. “we’ll get out of here soon, okay?” he promises quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair. and you hope he means it, because he’s so warm, and all you want to do now is stay here against his chest all night.

or maybe, you’re feeling stressed or anxious about work or school, but you’re trying not to show it because joaquín’s been so busy lately and you’d hate to burden him. of course, you can’t hide much from him, and as soon as he picks up on your mood he’s on you like a hawk. “hey, baby?” he moves up behind you, big hand spreading over your back, “do you need a hug?” and you really can’t deny him when he asks like that, plus you think a hug from him is exactly what you need. you thread your arms under his, and push your face into his warm, firm chest. joaquín sighs contentedly, curving his arms around your figure. “you wanna tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart?” he murmurs, rubbing your back with one hand, thumbing the base of your neck with the other. you shake your head, “not yet,” you mumble into his chest, “jus’ wanna stay like this for a while.” and joaquín laughs softly, “that’s okay, I can wait.” and he waits until you’re ready to tell him, rubbing your back all the while.

and omg!! if he’s been away for a few days on a mission, of course he’s missed you so much he feels like he’s gonna burst. when joaquín finally gets home, he charges you, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you off the ground, relishing in the sound of your shocked giggling, your pretty smile and how warm you feel in his arms. he lifts you with ease and gives you a spin that makes you giggle some more, your hands braced on the hills of his shoulders, squeezing him. when he puts you down, he’s got the biggest grin on his face, and he can’t let you go. you tilt your head to the side, “missed me?” you wonder aloud, teasing, your voice lilting and your smile smug. joaquín can’t find it in him to care, “are you kidding?” he asks, incredulous, and squeezes you again, so hard you’re lifted off the ground from the force of it <3

[saintbusan]

Not Supposed To

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

🪞Summary:

It started with a kiss in your best friend’s hallway—hot, fast, and cut short.

Now, it’s midnight, and Joaquin is climbing through your window like he hasn’t been able to breathe since.

He says he just wants to talk.

But his hands are already on your waist.

💌 Notes:

This was supposed to be nothing. A kiss. A moment.

But he came back.

And you didn’t tell him to leave.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

[first time doing this be gentle with me]

He was back—through your window again, like kissing you earlier hadn’t been nearly enough.

It started that afternoon at your best friend’s house. Just a moment. A heat-of-the-moment kiss in the hallway that should’ve never happened. But it did—Joaquin’s hands pressing you into the wall, your fingers tangled in his curls, his mouth trailing lower, tasting your skin like he’d been dying to.

You were seconds from giving in—right there, in her house, just down the hall—when you both heard her footsteps.

He pulled away with a whispered curse, breathing hard, pupils blown wide. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. He just slipped out like it never happened, like he wasn’t falling apart inside.

But now? Now he was here.

Climbing into your room at nearly midnight, eyes full of all the things he hadn’t said, wearing the same hoodie he left in—his hands already finding your waist the second his feet hit your floor.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he muttered against your throat, his lips brushing skin, warm and desperate. “You don’t get to kiss me like that and leave me hanging.”

You didn’t even pretend to argue.

Because you couldn’t stop thinking about him either. His mouth. His hands. The way his voice cracked when he whispered your name.

You pulled him down with you onto the bed, and he followed like gravity. Like he had to. His body pressed into yours like he belonged there, like the space between you was a mistake he needed to fix.

His kisses were hungry now—messy and fast and so much. You could barely breathe, but you didn’t want to stop. His mouth moved from yours to your jaw to your neck, sucking, licking, biting just hard enough to make you whimper. It lit him up. He groaned, deep in his chest, like he was trying to memorize that sound.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “That’s what I was thinking about. That sound you made when I kissed you right here…”

He dragged his lips lower, toward your collarbone, fingers already toying with your waistband like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to touch or tease.

You squirmed under him, and he just grinned—messy and cocky and entirely gone for you.

Then he paused.

Just for a second.

His breathing was heavy, hair falling over his forehead as he looked at you from beneath thick lashes. His hand still rested low on your stomach, warm and tense.

“You want me to stop?” he asked, voice low and wrecked. “’Cause if I don’t, I’m not gonna be able to walk away again.”

You stared back at him, heart hammering.

Then, without a word, you reached for him—fisted your hand in the front of his hoodie—and pulled him down like gravity had nothing on you.

And Joaquin?

He didn’t stop.

[tea-writes19]

cuddle bug | j.t.

pairing: joaquin torres x reader

summary: joaquin comes home after a long mission...cuddles ensue

w/c: 375

warnings: established relationship, fluff, pet names (baby, love), more fluff

a/n: based on this request!! my first solo joaquin fic and i hope y'all enjoy it :)

Joaquin slid the key into the lock and turned it. A soft click sounding as he opened the door to your shared apartment.

He had just gotten back from a month long mission in the mountains of Bulgaria. He and Sam had tracked a group of flag-smasher sympathisers to a hideout there and managed to stop them before they could find a way to recreate the supersoldier serum.

The fight that ensued had been ugly and Joaquin had more than one bruised rib to show for it. After a long flight home and an even longer debrief all he wanted was to come home and fall into your arms.

Stepping inside the entryway he placed his duffle on the floor and started on untying his boots.

“Baby? i’m home,” he called out, waiting for an answer.

The apartment was eerily quiet and he almost thought you had gone out somewhere until he heard a soft rustle coming from the couch.

He smiled as he walked towards the living room and found your prone form swallowed up by your weighted blanket, your timmy turtle jellycat hugged close to your chest. The grumpy face on the stuffie at odds with your serene one.

Joaquin reached a hand down and gently shook your arm. “Love, time to wake up.”

You groaned and slowly opened your eyes. Your annoyance at being awoken replaced with joy as you found your boyfriend kneeling before you.

“Baby!”

You flung your arms around him. Timmy the turtle falling to the floor as you replaced him with a better cuddle partner.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“I missed you too, love,” Joaquin shifted so he could lay down on the couch with you, arms coming to wrap around your torso. “Wish I never have to leave you alone that long again.”

You hum contently as you snuggle up to his warmth. “You’re here now though.”

He smiled softly at you as you got comfortable, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face.

“Yeah, i’m here now my cuddle bug.”

And there you two stayed for the rest of the day. Wrapped in each other’s arms, content to lay around and soak in the afternoon sun streaming through the window.

© tea-writes19 do not repost, translate, or copy

[gay-dorito-dust]

‘Uh oh, somebody’s in love.’ Sam teased as he nudged Joaquin in the side upon noticing how his eyes never left your back as you walked away from them both, nor did the smile upon his face that told Sam what he already had known for a while.

‘Yeah right, I just think (name)’s cool okay,’ Joaquin deflects, shifting his weight from one foot to another, ‘it’s not like I lay at night thinking about them.’ He adds unconvincingly.

*that very night*

Joaquin lies in his bed, wide awake and staring up at the ceiling as the irony of his current situation sits heavily upon his chest, images of you running rampant within his mind in a way that didn’t leave much room for the poor man to focus on something else. ‘Oh no.’

[bellamyarcade]

C/W: implied (?) smut, bits of fluff, no use of y/n

WORD COUNT: 0.3k

NOTES: nothing to see here, just me getting back on my Marvel bullshit ^^ also, I adore this man all the way to the moon and back.

SEE THE “IMPLICATIONS” COLLECTION

RAVISH — Joaquín Torres x fem!Reader

One hand is clutched tight around the edge of the table, the other grasping onto his for dear life. Your back arches off the surface, whatever little breath leaving your lungs in a sharp gasp. A pleased sound reaches your ears, slightly muffled. 

You close your eyes as if it will somehow ground you, but it only makes everything so much more intense. His name falls from your lips in a whisper—oh god, Joaquín!—and he squeezes your hand in reassurance, his other hand warm and firm on your right thigh. 

Salacious sounds bounce off the apartment walls, and it pulls another moan from the back of your throat. 

The kitchen is a mess. The files you’d been working on and all your precious notebooks have been swept off the table, strewn all over the floor. Your favourite pen in a very specific shade of blue ink slid under the couch somewhere, and you were definitely going to make him reach under there later to retrieve it because you certainly weren’t. 

“Hey—!” You barely had the chance to gasp, because before you knew it he was grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the dining table. 

“Ah ah,” he chided, stepping between your legs and giving you that lopsided smile that was so hard to resist, “it’s time to take a break, cariño.” 

And then he sank to his knees. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Within seconds Joaquín had you laying on your back, all spread out like his own personal feast. Minutes later, his mouth working its magic, you don’t even remember why you were supposed to be mad. 

More muffled sounds come from down below, and only when he stops, lips and tongue retreating from your sensitive bundle of nerves, do you realize he’s asked you something. 

“Huh…?” You manage, eyes glassy and chest heaving when you peer down at him. Joaquín rubs your thigh soothingly, his dark curls dishevelled and messy from you repeatedly running your hand through them. You do it again, full of affection this time. 

“I asked, mi amor,” he chuckles, teasing and a little breathless, “do you want my fingers too?”

[local-crying-boy]

🄹🄾🄰🅀🅄🄸🄽 🅃🄾🅁🅁🄴🅂

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 260

A/N: I have Joaquin Torres brainrot currently and I am (shamelessly) horny asf. Have fun reading

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Joaquin Torres the type of man to go slow while fucking you, hands on your waist groping you, feeling you up.

Joaquin Torres the type of man who eats you out as well, he’s damn good at it and there no denying it.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to go down on you just for his own benefit. Sure it pleasures you, but you have ZERO idea what it does to him

Joaquin Torres the type of man kiss your head in the middle of sex, it lingers too, more like he’s just resting his lips there instead.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to be a little nervous when he has his first time with you. He knows what he’s doing, trust, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing with you.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to map out your entire body, slowly, carefully. He’s getting used to you, getting used to how you react, what makes you tick. Everything and anything.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to talk and laugh during sex, he doesn’t want to take it seriously, not super seriously anyway. He wants you both to have fun, so he jokes and laughs.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to grin against your skin and lips, you can feel the upturn in during the kiss (it’s the same when he’s eating your out)

Joaquin Torres the type of man to get a little bit too turned on when he gets his hair pulled when he’s eating you out, you have to grab something ofc and he just so happens to be the closest thing.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to go slow especially for you, he would drag your orgasm out, take his time, make you cum first before he even thinks about cumming himself.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Masterlist

[yourauthorjen]

|| ALL EYES ON ME (ii) || — joaquin torres

(requests open)

masterlist

| synopsis: | l’appetito vien mangiando— in which apparently appetite comes with eating. yet it also seems to come with your clingy bodyguard who can’t seem to keep his hands off you. or the food.

| includes: | bodyguard!joaquintorres x italianmodel!reader, flirting, some suggestive content, steamy, fluff, clingy joaquin, grumpy reader x sunshine

| word count: | 1.7k

| a/n: | from this lovely request! thank you for this idea! can be read as a part two of all eyes on you or can be read as a standalone. inspired by the song viva la vida by coldplay. to add, i am not italian so if i do portray anything wrong please tell me!

THE SPATULA IN your hand quivered slightly as you watched Joaquin reach for the saucepan for the fifteenth time in a row.

Or was it the sixteenth time?

At this point you weren’t even counting anymore.

“Back off,” you snapped, smacking his hand with your wooden spoon. “If I see you look at that goddamn pot one more time I’m chopping you up into pieces and turning you into meatballs.”

Your bodyguard smiled with an awful lot of pride for someone who had just been threatened to be turned into traditional sicillian meatballs, raising his hands in mock surrender as the grin plastered to his lips widened.

“Just trying to help, sweetheart.”

“You can help,” you said, “By not touching that fucking pot every ten seconds.”

“You say that like you don’t want me to die happy.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumbled, sticking your utensil back into the simmering pot of red sauce tomato sauce, a dizzying aroma wafting to your nose in return.

“You like me,” he singsonged.

“You’re delusional.”

“And you’re beautiful when you’re furious.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, mostly because your cheeks betrayed you and went warm as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

It had been two months now, since Joaquin Torres had strolled into your life as your new “babysitter”. Your old bodyguard, Clint, had left you in the hands of this big baby man to take care of his new infant, and now you were stuck with this big doofus who had an unseemingly large appetite for your cooking and had a really bad habit of walking around the house shirtless.

And now that the two of you were a little more closer than your PR team would’ve liked, he had become terrible at boundaries. He clung to you like a sponge, making sad puppy eyes when you so much as walked to the other room without inviting him, or he’d spend an hour lying in your lap without moving an inch, just for you to run your hands through his hair once.

Now he was leaning against your marble counter, watching you cook, eyeing the pan like a starved hyena.

“You know what you look like?” you questioned, turning around to face him properly.

“A hot, charming man, who happens to be your boyfriend?”

“No,” you snorted, “You look like those hyenas from Lion King— what where their names?” You snapped your fingers, trying to recall, “Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed.”

His eyebrows flew to his hairline as his mouth dropped open and his posture straightened. “Seriously? Not even Scar? At least he had some dignity.”

You raised your spatula like a pointer. “Scar didn’t beg for scraps.”

He grumbled underneath his breath, before positioning himself back against the counter, legs crossed and eyes glued back onto the saucepan.

For a moment, it was silent, just the soft sound of the bubbling sauce and the occasional clinks of the wooden spoon hitting the pot.

“Ahem.”

You turned back around eyes flitting towards Joaquin as he stared at the stove, before he inhaled deeply and opened his mouth.

“Absolutely not!”

“What?” he whined, crossing his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say!”

“You were going to ask if you could have a bite.”

“It could’ve been a compliment about you!” he defended.

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Oh yeah? What were you going to say then?”

He blinked, and you could practically see the gears in his head spinning. “That… your pasta smells like heaven and I’d risk my life for a bite of that stuff.”

“Exactly,” you said, stabbing your spoon into the sauce with emphasis.

Joaquin sighed. “I’m hungry.”

“Of course you are,” you snorted, “You’re six feet tall and built like a damn brick wall. You probably burn three thousand calories just existing.”

He smiled smugly, the one where his eyes glinted with mischief and his grin turned crooked— one you despised and loved at the same time. “So what you’re saying is you think I’m hot.”

“Stop twisting my words.”

“I didn’t twist anything,” he said, pushing off the counter and sauntering over to you. “You said I was tall, muscular, and hungry. Sounds like every woman’s dream.”

You raised your spoon threateningly, but he was already in your space, crowding you, forcing you to back you slowly up against the counter. His hands landed on either side of you, caging you in as you shook your head, trying to muster out the words. “You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the point,” he murmured, leaning in, brushing his nose against yours. “I could distract you all day if you’d let me.”

“Joaquin—”

He kissed you before you could finish. Soft at first, just enough to steal your breath. Then deeper, with that usual confidence of his that always left your knees a little wobbly. His hands found your waist, then your thighs, and in one swift motion, he lifted you up and set you on the counter like you weighed nothing at all.

You let out a surprised noise, which he promptly swallowed with another kiss, all heat and teasing tongue and a barely restrained laugh between your lips. And with no place for your legs to go, you had no choice but to wrap them around his waist.

“Joaquin,” you breathed against his mouth, cheeks flushed, “The pasta—”

“Can wait,” he mumbled, lips tracing down your jaw, “This is my appetizer.”

Your brain turned into fudge— like the Italian fudge you used to eat as a kid, as his fingers grazed your thigh, absolutely wrecking your common sense.

He smirked against your mouth, messy and warm, as his fingertips ghosted under your shirt. God—why was he so good at this?

“Joaquin,” you tried again, more desperate this time, even though your fingers curled around his shoulders, “Seriously, the food—”

His eyes darkened as he cupped your chin, thumb brushing softly along your jaw. “Let it burn,” he murmured, voice low and rough with want. “You taste better.”

Your heart did a ridiculous flip as he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper, like he had all the time in the world to savor you. His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him, your legs parting instinctively as he pressed between them. You could feel his smirk widen against your lips when you gasped a little, warmth flooding every inch of your body.

At that point, you’re brain had turned into pure fog as his fingers tucked your hair behind your ear, and his mouth traced your neck. “This isn’t fair,” you grumbled, palms bracing against his chest.

“Of course it’s not fair,” he murmured, “You said I couldn’t have food. You never said anything about you.”

You groaned, half in protest, half in delight, tilting your head as he nipped at that spot just below your ear that made your knees tremble.

“Okay,” you panted, shoving him away. “No more of that, not until I make sure my food’s not burnt.”

He pouted, his lips tugged downwards. “You care more about your food than me.”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed, “I’m just trying to feed your grumpy ass so you stop staring at the food and me, like a crazy hyena.”

“Too late,” Joaquin muttered, following you like a lost dog as you returned to the stove. His chin landed on your shoulder like dead weight, arms snaking around your waist as he swayed you side to side. “You’re all five courses and dessert.”

“Don’t you have security cams to monitor? Maybe a rooftop to patrol?” you said, dishing the chicken you had made for the secondo. “Or I don’t know—an actual job?”

“This is my job,” he argued, as you turned to the cupboard. “To make sure you’re not… doing anything dangerous in the kitchen.”

Rolling your eyes you turned and reached out to grab a cup, but by the time you had faced Joaquin again his mouth was chewing and his eyes were blinking too innocently. Beside him, a corner of your grilled chicken had dissapeared and when your brain finally clicked he had already swallowed.

“Che Dio ti fulmini!” you seethed, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Stop that!”

His eyes met yours, tawny coloured and wide as your brows narrowed.

“I have no idea what you just said,” Joaquin smirked, “But whatever you put in that chicken is really good.”

You whacked him with the nearest thing you could find— an oven mitt.

“Ouch,” he said dryly, rubbing his shoulder like you’d just hurled a brick at him. But his lips quickly formed into a delighted grin again.

"No dinner for you," you scowled, "Keep doing this I'll feed you solo pane secco for the rest of the week.”

"What's that?" he asked smugly, grabbing your waist to spin you into a kiss.

You rapped your knuckles onto his temple before your hands found his shoulder again. "It means if you keep touching my food like that I'll feed you dry bread. Now, go set the table before I make you eat outside with the pigeons."

He groaned, burying his nose into the crook of his neck. "You're so bossy."

You smirked, mimicking his forever cocky smile. "Yet you still love me."

[inkdrinkerworld]

Ooooo this sounds fun! For evil gnomes, can I request a prompt with Joaquin Torres and balcony views? ☺️

Thank you for requesting🫶🏼

"Joaquín look!" you're leaning over the balcony railing, and pointing to the sea.

You're only in Florida, but in all the years of travelling there, you've never seen any dolphins. They're majestic, even if they're a little scary. Watching them from a safe distance like this, is just enough for you.

Joaquín comes up behind you, chin on your shoulder, looking out where you're pointing. "What am I looking at, amor?"

You turn so your cheek is pressed against his shoulder, cool against his sun kissed skin. "Look at the dolphins!"

Joaquín chuckles, kissing your shoulder as he spots the dolphins jumping in the water.

It warms his heart seeing you so excited about the sea animals, but it's adorable and he loves it.

Joaquín presses his nose against your shoulder when you squeal again, goosebumps erupting along your arms as two more join the first pair that you were looking at.

"They're so pretty," you sigh wistfully, leaning over the railing a little further making Joaquín hold onto your hip.

"Mhm," he watches how your hair blows in the breeze, the faint taste of salt in the air. "Breathtaking."

[jordiemeow]

warnings: 18+ mdni, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

the thing about joaquín is that he doesn't have to try to ruin you. it's just who he is.

sweet, reckless, all that boyish charm—and none of it prepares you for the way he fucks. he's fast. too fast. not in the clumsy, overeager way of someone inexperienced, but in the way of someone built to move like air itself. and when he's buried balls deep inside you, he moves just like that: relentless. inescapable. thighs shaking, overstimulated and soaked, breath punched from your lungs every time he pistons in deep and sharp. his wings aren't the only thing engineered for precision. it feels like he's zeroing in on your g-spot every time he moves.

he talks through it, too. not to tease—though god knows he enjoys that—but because he genuinely can't help it. every time you clench around him, he whimpers. tells you how good you feel, how tight, how perfect your pussy is. calls you hermosa between ragged gasps of exertion, hands shaking from the effort of holding back.

most of the time said effort fails. he never really holds back. not when he’s already got you two orgasms past when you should’ve collapsed. not when his cock is still hard and twitching inside you, when your warm walls keep convulsing and he's chasing depth like it's oxygen. he fucks like he flies—lightning-quick, no hesitation. you swear half the time you feel him, it's after he's already thrust, his cock snapping into you so fast your brain struggles to keep up. one second you're empty, the next you're full, pussy stretching around that perfect, slick length—and joaquín's already pulling back for the next thrust.

and when he's got you crying, legs trembling, so fucked out you can hardly see straight, he says:

"qué pasa, cariño? giving up already?"

as if you ever had a chance.

[lives-in-midgard]

Soft Kisses

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x reader

Summary: When you feel insecure about your moles, Joaquin tells you how beautiful you are.

Word Count: 555

Masterlist

Divider made by @saradika-graphics

You and Joaquin woke up a while ago and were still lying in bed. He was checking something on his phone, while he had his arm around you and you were cuddled up to his side.

Suddenly you noticed a mole on your arm, and it reminded you of something that a coworker said to you a few days ago. She told you that she thinks that it’s weird that you have so many moles and since then you have felt a bit insecure about it. When she told you that, you wanted to tell Joaquin but he was so busy because of a mission, and you didn’t want to bother him with that. You know that Joaquin always knows how to make you feel better, so you decided to tell him now.

“Joaquin?” You whispered and he immediately looked at you with a smile. He laid his phone on the bedside table and then placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Yes, angel?” He asked softly.

“Lately I’ve been feeling a bit insecure about my moles. I just don’t think that I look pretty with them especially because I have so many.” You confessed and looked away for a moment.

“Babe, please look at me.” Joaquin said and smiled at you when you looked back at him.

“Please, don’t say that.” He softly said and cupped your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful mi amor.”

“Even with my moles?” You asked and he nodded.

“Especially with your moles.” Joaquin whispered and moved closer to you. He gently kissed you. When he broke the kiss, he started to kiss your neck and then placed a kiss on your arm. When you looked at him you noticed that he was kissing your moles.

“Honey, what are you doing?” You asked and he looked up at you with a smile.

“I’m kissing your moles to show you how beautiful you are and how much I love you.” He said and continued to kiss you. Joaquin started to kiss every single one that he could see. With every soft kiss that he placed on your body, your smile began to grow. Now and then, Joaquin looked up at you with a smile. When you smiled back at him, Joaquin’s smile grew, and he continued what he was doing. Sometimes you had to giggle because it tickled you, which made him chuckle.

After a while Joaquin moved back to sit down next to you. He moved closer to you and laid his hand on your cheek. Then he gently kissed you. The kiss started soft but then got more passionate. When you broke the kiss, you smiled at each other.

“You are so incredibly beautiful, mi amor and I will always remind you of that.” He said and kissed your cheek.

“I love you.” You said and felt so happy with him by your side.

“I love you more, angel.” Joaquin whispered, which made you giggle. Then you snuggled closer to him and Joaquin wrapped his arms around you, moving you even more closer to him than you already were. Joaquin started to play with your hair and mumbled a quiet “I love you” into your ear before kissing your forehead. This morning you stayed in bed a bit longer, cuddling and enjoying the loving embrace of your boyfriend.

[racketelio]

hear me out... fluffy joaquin torres... + morning wood...

18+, duh, but it's mostly allusions

joaquin torres. the falcon. the newest avenger. he's a superhero, an air force pilot, one of the smartest people in the world - and the stupidest, to be fair.

but he's not hard, not like his peers.

he doesn't talk himself up or lean into the machoism.

he's just joaquin.

soft, sweet, tender, gentle.

he talks in his sleep.

you noticed it when you first got together, waking up the first night you stayed at his miami apartment (while he was on leave from his duties) only to hear him having a conversation with someone in his mind. something about a stolen shoe, whatever that means.

sometimes, it's flight routines.

sometimes, it's mission plans.

most of the time, it's you, his attentive, soft-eyed lover. almost every morning, while he's starting to wake up, he'll roll over and groan and start mumbling about how much he loves you, cherishes you, wants you.

normally, it starts the morning's conversation.

"quino..." you prompt softly, pushing his shoulder as he slurs a word that could be your name in his sleep. "wake up, baby."

a long pause, and then a huff, and then; "'m awake."

he giggles with you when you giggle, rolling over and nuzzling his nose into your neck. he's mindless, sleepy and affectionate. "love you," he mumbles, pressing kisses over your skin.

"you were telling me."

"was sleeptalking again?"

"mhm."

you feel his lips curve into a lazy smile against your shoulder. you push a hand through his curls, soft and slightly overgrown and unbound by the gel that normally holds it neat as per military restrictions. god, he's so warm.

and... hard.

"quino, you're poking me," you tell him, trying not to giggle. joaquin doesn't try and contain it, chuckling and shifting his hips to press the line of him harder against your side. "gross!"

"it wasn't gross before!"

"i haven't even brushed my teeth!"

"i don't care," joaquin mumbles, and you know it's genuine. little chaste pecks are peppered over your skin, each one a little prayer to the altar he worships every chance he gets. he hums, resting his cheek on your shoulder and huffing, before pausing.

"...you gonna do something about it?"

[saintbusan]

Since I found out how hard Danny worked out to be snatched for the cabnw movie, and we didn’t see him shirtless. I was mad but now looking at his suit closely, you can see HOW tiny his waist is and how snatched he was THROUGH the FUCKIn g suit. Mental note for me, not showing skin is okay the costume is doing justice fucking relax.

Also the scene with this black tanktop arms and biceps showing was a big bonus