annab-recs

[annab-recs]

Jealousy, Jealousy | Joaquin Torres

A/N: Heyyyy, finally got that freaked out Joaquin smut for yall, but who would I be if I didn't fill it with plot?!?! I present to you, delulu jealous Joaquin Torres, enemies to lovers(ish), with some freaky deaky smut and my amazing comedic timing (pls laugh or ill cry). Also this is hella fanon but does contain a few minor thunderbolts/cabnw spoilers. And I did in fact make it so the world didn't forget my bby Peter Parker BECAUSE HE DESERVED BETTER GOD DAMNIT! Also thx to the super hot and secksi chicken @love-chx for beta-ing half of this, mwah <3

Summary: It was as if every single thing you did irritated Joaquin Torres, you didn't even have to say anything to him, your presence alone was enough to tick him off. Don't get him started on your relationship with Peter Parker either.

Warnings: spelling and grammar errors, cursing, 2nd person POV, Joaquin's a total dick, Joaquin also has a big dick, mentions of Sam and Buckys divorce </3, the reader is a total flirt, mentions of Tony Stark </3, Smut: hair pulling, fish hooking, finger sucking, spitting, spitting in someones mouth, oral (fem receiving), munch!joaquin, minor male masterbation, ass eating if you squint, fingering, kissing, unprotected p in v, creampies, minor breeding kink (joaquin torres YOU ABSOLUTE FREAK!), panty/pussy sniffing, missionary, doggy style, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, girl i think thats it idk man this was triffling

Word count: 12.7k

Joaquin Torres x Fem!Witch!Reader

Bark bark bark omg ok anyways heres the fic:

Joaquin Torres has always considered himself a pretty good person, his ultimate goal in life has always been to help people and to be a hero. He knows how to use his intelligence and skill set for good, he’s done more than enough to prove himself as the new ‘Falcon’ and from the feedback he’s received, he’d done a damn good job at being a hero, and most importantly, being an Avenger.

Typically, he doesn’t get irritated or angry easily, he’s got a positive mindset and does his best to not let things or people bother him. For a long time he thought it was just genuinely difficult for someone to get under his skin or agitate him, even in the line of combat.

That was until he met you. 

Somehow, every single miniscule thing you did pissed him off. 

It didn’t matter if it was as simple as forgetting to fully shut the office door, he’d get mad over it. If you’d interrupt him in the slightest, even if it wasn’t purposeful, it would tick him off. Anytime you wore heels, the constant clicking of them against the laminated floors had him taking deep breaths, fingers pinching his nose bridge in annoyance.

But nothing compared to the pure irritation that he’d feel whenever he overheard your high-pitched almost wheezy laughter whenever you were with Peter Parker. Now, Joaquin didn’t have anything against Peter per-say, but the fact that you two got along so well was what bothered him the most.

Sure Sam had told him that you’d grown up together, it made sense that you and Peter were close, but that didn’t stop him from being pissed off when he’d see you and Peter sitting close together on a sofa, or you leaning into Peter’s space, or wearing his hoodies, or laughing at his jokes.

It was normal to find your co-workers obnoxious, even if you weren’t exactly in the most normal profession. Being considered a superhero was a dream that most kids had, it was rare that anyone would be able to follow through. 

Maybe that also irritated Joaquin when it came to you, it was as if everything had been handed to you, you hadn’t needed to work hard, you were a witch or a sorcerer or whatever Sam described it as! You’d been born with magical powers straight out of a fantasy novel! You didn’t need to work hard or constantly train or hone in on specific skill sets that would’ve made you better fit to be a hero.

At least that’s what he thought. Then again, Joaquin Torres hardly knew you, all he knew was that every single thing about you bothered him.

Not to mention the grimace that would overtake his features anytime you’d walk past him and the smell of your citrus perfume and shampoo would waft in his direction. You smelled like sweet oranges, sunshine, and the summer.

It made him want to hate the summer.

He didn’t even fully understand what it was about you that he didn’t like. From the outside looking in, you were relatively kind, sure you had a lot of jagged and rough edges but according to Sam you’ve ‘had a hard past few years’. Anytime the both of you had to go on a mission together, you knew exactly what needed to be done and how it needed to be done.

You weren’t exactly a know it all, or a smartass. You were just intelligent, that much was evident, especially after he found out that the entire reason Peter Parker had even had the chance to work with Tony Stark (outside of the whole recruiting two fifteen year olds to fight with the avengers against the avengers thing), was because you were persistent enough to hack into Stark enterprises security system and override parts of the very complex artificial intelligence that Stark had spent years engineering.

At the age of fifteen.

Maybe that also ticked him off, that you were so smart without having to try. 

He was currently seated in his shared office at the Air Force base, one leg rapidly bouncing up and down as he clenched his jaw and stared at the two monitors in front of him. He wasn’t even focused on any of the code, surveillance footage, or data on screen, instead he was busy trying not to glance over his shoulder at you and Peter Parker sitting on the large navy blue sectional.

It wasn’t as if you were all over him, the two of you weren’t even seated directly next to one another, you were on the chase-end of the sofa, feet propped up in front of you as you worked on revisions to a few previous mission reports, adding in newly discovered information pertaining to a few arms deals, extraterrestrial activity, and foreign government involvement.

Meanwhile Peter was focused on repairing his web shooters. He was seated in the middle of the sofa, practically on the edge of one of the cushions while he leaned towards the coffee table where his gadgets sat.

Joaquin didn’t get it, he really truly didn’t get how your presence could bother him so much.

It didn’t help that he could smell you from where he sat. Your perfume had a way of lingering around, the aroma made him light headed and he hated it.

The worst part is that he liked Peter, he found him to be funny and admirable, given everything he’d gone through with losing his Aunt May, and then Stephen Strange nearly ripping a hole into the universe just to prove some point. It was nice to see people that still genuinely cared about the wellbeing of others.

Joaquin just couldn’t stand the sight of you and Peter together. So what if you’d known each other since high school, you were five years older than him now due to the Blip, and somehow, you two were still as close as ever.

He’d been so focused on not looking at you, that he hadn’t heard you say his name, nor had he registered your loud sigh as you got off the couch and approached him. Now you stood right beside him, looking at him while tapping your hand on his desk several times.

“Earth to Torres? I need the satellite scans from three days ago. Sam wants me to finalize the report to send over to the public relations department." You were very clearly annoyed by him, blinking slowly while both of your brows were raised, waiting for his response.

He slowly looked up at you, nodding his head while keeping his jaw clenched.

“Did you check the email I sent?” his condescending tone made you scoff, so instead of arguing with him, you simply shoved him out of the way, now leaning over his desk, his mouse in hand while your eyes trailed along his screens. Opening up the secure records, easily bypassing the password encryption to pull the files you needed.

Then you reached into your back pocket, grabbing a flash drive before connecting it to his computer, downloading each file that you needed while he sat in shock a few feet away.

But the longer you stood there, the more his eyes started to wander. Your back was slightly arched as you focused on the data downloads, your legs were a bit spread, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t immediately notice the way the denim levis hugged your ass perfectly. When his eyes trailed higher he realized your usual braided hair was straightened today, flowing along your back, cascading along your shoulders.

And God did you smell good.

Your shirt was fitted, the cotton of the tanktop hugging all of your soft curves, and maybe that made it worse for him. You weren’t exactly skinny, and he knew for a fact, he didn’t want you to be. 

Sam was right, he needed to get laid.

Then you glanced over at him “what’s your password” he blinked a few times, finally processing what you were talking about, eyes glancing back at the monitors, now seeing his displays completely disorganized as you had several different sized windows up, showing different footage, paused feeds, coded entries, and encryptions. You pointed a singular manicured finger at the smaller black window, waiting on him to provide the necessary password.

“Move outta the way and I’ll type it in princess” you rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“You’re such a child Torres, just tell me the damn password, what you afraid I’m gonna look through your shit? As if we don’t have access to the same things?” he scoffed at that, running a hand along the lower half of his face as he let out a cynical laugh.

“Can’t you just listen and get the hell out of my way?” you shushed him, now typing a random assumption into the password box, waiting on it to load through as the cogwheel showed on screen. Finally after a few tense minutes, it worked and you were into his system fully.

“Seriously? That’s your password? Couldn’t think of anything more creative than Dwayne Wade? I know you’re a Heat fan but damn” 

It took everything in him not to stand up, grab you by the hips, and move you out of his way. His leg was bobbing up and down again and now he was leaning to the right, elbow against the armrest of his chair while his hand covered the top half of his face.

“So uh, is now a bad time to ask if either of you are headed to the gala sponsored by Valentina Allegra De Fontaine this week?” you glanced back at Peter, who looked at both of you with his brows furrowed, eyes wide, and concern evident on his features.

He was sitting up a bit straighter now, as if he was anticipating a larger argument between the two. He wasn’t the best mediator, but he knew when to drag you away, considering you never backed down.

“Yeah, Sam sent us the invite last night. Said it’s mandatory, something about intel and his faux-divorce with Bucky.” you spoke as you glanced back at Joaquin's monitors, now finalizing a few downloads and taking the time to fix two of his encryptions, the codes having very clear errors that you couldn’t resist adjusting.

Then you stood up, taking a second to adjust your jeans, pulling them up slightly, the motion catching Joaquin’s eyes-or rather the sight of your ass slightly jiggling in your jeans caught his attention. Then you were walking away from his desk with the flashdrive in hand.

You initially were going to sit back down and get back to work, it wasn’t exactly easy being an Avenger or whatever the hell Sam called you all, and a lot of it actually required paperwork-something that Tony had never prepared you for. Then your phone started ringing and the sound of Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing started blasting from it.

The ring tone made you burst out in laughter, seeing Sam’s contact name alongside a photo of him giving you the middle finger showing on screen.

“You seriously need to change that Bug!” you scoffed at Peter “No I don’t it’s funny! He’s the one who went on and on about how great Marvin Gaye is. It’s only right that I honor that sentiment”

He shook his head at you, the brunette then glancing towards Joaquin who quickly looked away. Peter could practically feel the laser beams shooting from Joaquin’s glare towards the both of you. 

Then you answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

Another annoying habit of yours that made Joaquin’s jaw clench.

“Hi Father America, how can I help you on this pristine day?” Sam’s sigh was loud over the phone, meanwhile you and Peter looked at each other and shared a muffled laugh.

“Did you finish those reports? Gotta know what we’re fully up against, and the press is on my ass over it. Also have you heard from Kate? She said she’s been trying to reach out to Yelena but y’know they’re always on and off again” you shrugged, then realized he couldn’t actually see you.

The long silence followed by Sam’s “once again, shrugging while we’re on a phone call isn’t helpful for me here kid.” you rolled your eyes at that, elbowing Peter slightly who laughed at you.

“Nope, haven't heard from Kate, she was still wallowing in her relationship sorrow last time we spoke, also did you see that Bob guy? You think Buck will put in a good word for me?”

The comment made Joaquin choke on his coffee, you didn’t register that though as Peter responded “Seriously Bug? Can you not act like yourself for five minutes? Maybe don’t go try jumping someone’s bones who literally turned into like a black mass and overtook Manhattan?” you sighed at that, shaking your head.

“He’s just misunderstood I could fix him, with this pus-” Peter was quick to cut you off, a hand over your mouth as your words were muffled, meanwhile Joaquin scoffed, rolling his eyes again.

“Okay, Sorry about that Sam, Bug’s gonna finish the reports soon, she just got the last few satellite files from Joaquin, we’ll call you back later when she’s in her right mind again!” with that he hung up your phone.

One thing Joaquin clearly didn’t understand was how Peter was alright with you making comments like that. He was under the assumption that the two of you were dating, you spent most of your time together, went out together constantly, it only made sense. Maybe he just wasn’t the jealous type, Joaquin could respect that to a certain extent.

You quickly swatted Peter’s hands away. “You’re really raining on my shine here Parker!” he laughed at that, shaking his head at you.

Sam eventually got back to the office to go over the reports with you, meanwhile Joaquin offered side quips that you easily shut down, rolling your eyes a few times at his antics. Then you were walking everyone through the several different dimensional aspects to the most recent space-level threat and the Avengers response.

Joaquin leaned against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest, when he wasn’t looking you were quick to peek at the way his biceps bulged. He was glaring in your direction the entire time you spoke, pulling up the holographic feeds, zooming in and out of different bits and portions, elaborating on the issue and the scope of it all.

You were too smart and that also pissed him off.

By the time you were finished with the long winded explanation, and answering a few of Sam’s questions on the matter, you were tired and ready to head home. Then Sam cleared his throat as you packed your things. 

You didn’t live far off base, and you’d shared a townhouse with Peter, it was a nice place, nothing compared to New York, but you were settling in just fine.

“Actually, none of you are headed home, remember how I said a go bag is a necessity, yeah, well we’re all headed over to the airport, then we’re headed into New York to the backhanded ‘New Avengers’ tower for that big Gala. There are ground rules here, the biggest one is you and you-” he paused to point at you, then at Joaquin “need to get the hell along. We’re walking into a building full of super soldiers, ex-war criminals, and that guy who turned into a black mass-”

You interrupted Sam “so do you think I have a shot with him, these are the important questions-so what if he’s a little evil, I could fix him!” Sam groaned.

“Peter please control your friend” Peter sighed and nodded his head.

“Okay, now back to what's important, actually as a matter of fact, a new rule just for you Bug, you are not allowed to seduce Bob!” you sighed, shoulders dropping and bottom lip pouting “-okay but can I seduce someone?” he shook his head, nostrils flaring slightly while he stared at you.

“No! You can’t seduce any of them, Jesus Christ do I need to put you on a leash?” you were about to make a joke out of that, until Peter quickly pulled you into his side, a hand over your mouth, earning an irritated groan from you.

“We’re headed to the airport, get your go bags, pack your computers and whatnot because our flight is set to take off in two hours. I’ve already got someone up there getting you all something more gala-like. Kate’s also meeting us up there as well.”

By the time that you’d all arrived in New York, you were exhausted. You knew that everyone would be spending the weekend in the New Avengers tower, and you had no expectations of how it would actually look, not when you knew how it originally looked, and when the place held a few memories that you didn’t want to relive.

It was a shell of what it used to be, that was certain. 

The building had been remodeled, there was a lack of character here, everything felt too new, too modern. It didn’t have the same touches that Tony had left, things were different now. 

You hated it.

But you couldn’t complain, not yet at least. Not when everyone was busy greeting you and your eyes were jumping from person to person, studying each of the New Avengers, you’d read about the ones you didn’t know personally, most of them had serious criminal backgrounds.

Then again, if you weren’t technically an Avenger, you would’ve had a serious criminal background as well. 

“Ah, you must be the Bug we have heard much about!” you blinked a few times, a large russian man looking down at you with a wide smile on his face, then he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, lifting you right off of the ground as your eyes widened. It was kind of nice though, the kind of hug that reminded you of Thor. So you smiled and hugged him back.

That action surprised several people in the room.

Then he put you down.

“I have heard much about your battle stories, you are a strong fighter, yes?” you shrugged “something like that” which earned a scoff from Joaquin, and you were quick to glare at him.

“I’m Alexei Shostakov, the Red Guardian.” you nodded at him, introducing yourself, following it with “but everyone calls me Bug” then you shook his hand. 

Clearly he was the nicest out of everyone.

Well that and, everyone had been conversing with Sam, or rather watching Sam and Bucky argue and awkwardly introducing themselves, even though everyone pretty much knew everyone, and then Kate and Yelena were off in a corner whisper shouting at each other yet again.

“So why do they call you Bug?” you shrugged at him, now sitting at the bar with the older man “Honestly, Mr. Stark-uh Tony-used to call me Bug. Said it was because I was always bugging him, and my best friend was a spider, so of course I’d be some kind of bug too” he nodded as you spoke.

Meanwhile Joaquin tried to act as if he wasn’t eavesdropping. He honestly had never thought to ask you why people called you Bug, he just knew he didn’t have that privilege. That also kind of irritated him too.

What was so irritating about you? He didn’t get it.

The next day rolls around faster than you expected, and after waking up in a guest bedroom, halfway off of the king sized bed, you realize that you were tossing and turning all night. Then you glanced around the room, all of the furniture was dark, but it wasn’t dark wood, it was black with silver hardware, and honestly, it reminded you of an upscale hotel in the worst way.

Peter was across the room, sprawled out across the large sofa after having lost the game of rock paper scissors you’d played over who would sleep in the bed. Typically you would’ve had your own room, however Sam labeled you as a ‘flight risk’, and stated that you needed someone to be with you, so of course you were quick to say Peter.

Joaquin was constantly an asshole to you, it made zero sense for you to want to be around him.

It didn’t matter how attractive he was, or how nice his biceps looked, or how kissable his lips were. Nor did it matter that you liked his hair, or his smile, or really anything about him. He was an absolute dick to you, and he’d been that way since the both of you had started working together.

Initially, when you’d met him through Sam and Bucky, he wasn’t that bad, sure he talked a lot, but you hardly saw him. Then, when Sam had asked if you and Peter wanted to come to D.C. to work with him, that’s when things started changing. Slowly but surely, Joaquin was more hostile towards you.

You thought that maybe you’d done something wrong at first, but then after talking to Peter about it, and venting about how annoying he was, you realized that you hadn’t done anything and Joaquin was just being an asshole.

So you kept your distance, and of course, anytime he was rude, you had to be ruder. He brought out the worst in you at times, you weren’t outwardly a mean person, but spending too much time around him brought out that side of you.

“Peter! Wake up! Before Sam kicks our asses!” he groaned, nodding his head as he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes a bit.

It’d taken the both of you about twenty minutes to get up and ready for the day, the gala was tonight and Sam had said they’d already gotten you both your outfits. Peter would be in a black suit with a white shirt, meanwhile you were in a red floor length dress. Why was it crimson? You had no idea, maybe to pay homage to your magic, or to your previous mentor that had flown off her rocker and gone into the deep end of insanity? Who knows.

You were currently seated on the bed, legs crossed in front of you as you rapidly typed. Sam had texted you a screenshot of information that he’d gotten from Bucky. Something about Valentina’s assistant giving him information, you weren’t really awake enough to process where it came from, but you were told to work your magic and get past a few firewalls.

Everything was going fine until your hands started to cramp.

Peter also wasn’t in the room anymore, he was out ‘networking’ as he called it. You groaned, putting your laptop on the bed beside you, taking a minute to clench and unclench your fists, doing your best to relax your hands.

Then you spotted Joaquin in the hallway, and god damnit, he would be your saving grace whether he liked it or not.

“Torres! Come here!” you were loud as you shouted his name, he blinked a few times, walking backwards a few steps, now gazing into your room, rolling his eyes at the sight of you in the middle of the large bed like some kind of princess. 

“What?” you rolled your eyes at his evident attitude.

“Listen, I don’t have time for the sassy man apocalypse today, I need help with something Sam asked me about” you motioned for him to come into the room with your hand, brows raised expectantly as you stared at him. He shook his head before walking into the room, then you waved your hand slightly, the door shutting behind him.

“Like come here, not stand by the door.” you aggressively pat the bed beside you, and he let out a frustrated sigh as he made his way over, now sitting beside you, but also practically halfway off the bed. You rolled your eyes at him, grabbing his forearm and dragging him closer, you tried to ignore how firm his arms were-that was a thought for another day.

“Stop acting like a shy virgin about to hookup for the first time. I don’t have time for this, Sam needs this information asap, so here” you handed him the laptop, now pointing at the screen “I need you to finish bypassing this, my fucking hands are killing me and you’re the best hacker I know-don’t let that inflate your ego either” 

He glanced at you, then at the laptop. Then he started typing, eyes scanning your previous work as he found a few quicker work-arounds.

Meanwhile you watched him, your eyes tracing along the veins in his hands, taking in every small detail. His hands were pretty big, you hadn’t really noticed that before, they looked firm and strong. His forearms were nice too, a bit toned, his skin had a golden tan. 

Then your eyes moved along his figure. His hair was still damp, a few loose curls lightly touching his forehead. His jawline was sharp and defined, part of you wanted to reach out and touch it, but you didn’t want to make things weird.

Although, he was always an asshole to you, so what would making things weird really do?.

You reached over slowly, one finger gently tracing the slope of his jawline, the feeling had him freezing up, eyes widening at the feather-light touch against his face.

“You have a nice jawline Torres.” 

He slowly glanced over at you, now finally processing the smell of citrus in the room, the warmth of the sun's rays against your skin as you looked at him. He noticed how soft your lips looked, and how focused you were on him. 

It didn’t help that you were wearing a pair of black shorts that were riding all the way up your thighs, but the grey Midtown sweatshirt you wore ripped him out of his potential fantasy. His jaw clenched at the sight and he leaned away from your touch before shrugging your hand away from him.

“Thanks, now stop being a creep.” 

You scoffed at that. “Seriously? A creep? Why do you always have to be such an asshole to me!” 

He blinked a few times, rolling his eyes as he continued typing.

“Wow, the silent treatment, well aren’t you fucking mature. Damn, learn how to take a compliment you douchebag." Then you were quick to get off the bed, he watched as you moved away-which probably wasn’t the best idea because as you walked off, his eyes were focused solely on the way your ass moved in your shorts.

The sound of the door slamming practically echoed inside of the room.

Then he was looking around, annoyed at the fact that you were probably lying in this bed last night side by side with Peter Parker of all people. It was irrational for him to be annoyed by the thought, but genuinely, what did you even see in Peter?

Okay, so maybe Peter wasn’t ugly, and he was a good kid, plus he was really smart, and he had the whole ‘Spider-man’ thing going for him- okay maybe Joaquin did understand what you saw in Peter. But that didn’t make it any less annoying.

That’s when it hit him.

“Am I jealous of Peter Parker?” he spoke to himself, brows knit together as he looked down at your laptop, now realizing that he’d gotten into the system, then he noticed the notebook you had on the bed with a jumbled mess of scribbles and notes of things Sam wanted you to figure out.

He knew that this job stressed you out, that much had always been obvious because it stressed him out too. So he decided to actually be a nice guy for once, going through your sloppy checklist and pulling the necessary information on the Sentry project, on the Darkholder Cult, and on a few under the table weapons manufacturing deals. 

Once he finished, he was quick to retrace all of his steps, ensuring nothing could be traced back to you, then he exited out of every tab, only to come face to face with your laptop background, a photo of you, Peter, and an older Brunette woman with large glasses on her face. 

You were younger in the photo, and based on the burnt cupcake in your hand with two small candles showcasing ‘15’ on them, he knew it had to have been your birthday.

He wanted to snoop through your things, but then the door opened, and in walked Peter who looked a bit surprised to see Joaquin there.

“Let me guess, you two got into it again?” 

He nodded his head at the question, watching as Peter walked over to the sofa in the room, sitting down and now digging through one of his bags. 

“Between me and you, I think you really need to stop being a dick to her man, it’s only making things worse on your end.”

Joaquin blinked a few times at the advice, sure it was sound advice, but he didn’t need sound advice from your boyfriend. 

“I just don’t get it, you two would make sense, but you guys are just constantly going head to head. Y’know Mr. Stark always used to tell her she needed to find someone that could out-argue her, I guess that actually might be you.” 

Joaquin blinked a few times, now utterly confused, glancing from the laptop to Peter.

He then grabbed a few things and stood up. “But y’know, what would I know right?” He shrugged, leaving the room.

Then Joaquin was alone again.

By the time that he’d actually left your room and managed to find everyone, he spotted you talking to Bob. That made his blood boil. You were smiling while he said something, Joaquin didn’t give a shit what anyone had to say to you, there was no reason that you should’ve been practically beaming at him. 

He couldn’t have been that funny or entertaining.

So he decided he would make his presence known, waltzing right up to you, then throwing an arm around your shoulders. He smirked at your shocked expression, then he glanced at Bob who just looked confused, glancing between you and Joaquin.

“Uh-I guess we can talk later then?” 

You nodded at Bob, mumbling an apology on Joaquin’s behalf as the brunette awkwardly nodded and walked away. Then you let out a deep sigh, shoving Joaquin off of you. Glancing around the room, you realized that while it was a large space, it was clear that this was the last place to yell at him.

So you grabbed his arm and dragged him off, finding a random quiet hall. 

You  shove him, “What the fuck is your problem? You’re constantly such an asshole to me, then you do stupid shit like that!” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.“So sorry I stopped you from throwing yourself at Bob” 

You shove him again.“I wasn’t even throwing myself at him! Sam said to talk to everyone, y’know be social?! He’s working his ass off to try to find some fucking solution to this whole his Avengers vs Valentina’s Avengers fiasco and you’re just being a self centered dick!” you were yelling now.

He shook his head “As if you give a shit about any of that!” 

You scoffed, jaw dropping. “Well excuse the fuck out of me, I didn’t know Joaquin Torres knew a single god damn thing that I gave a shit about! You don’t even know me. You know jack shit about me!” 

He was quiet now, trying to come up with something to say, anything to prove that you weren’t right.

But you were too quick.

“Exactly, silence because even you know it’s true. You don’t know the first fucking thing about me, and yet for the past year and a half, you’ve treated me like the bane of your existence. I get that you’re mister hot shot Falcon now, but for fucks sake, you don’t need to be such a douchebag! You couldn’t even tell me my favorite color. That’s how little you know about me.”

He scoffed. “As if you could tell me mine”

You shook your head. “It’s orange, your favorite fucking color is orange, the bright ass orange that matches the University of Miami’s orange. You jackass.” With that you walked off again, shaking your head, while muttering a series of curse words. Whenhe tried to follow you, you waved a hand in the air, a random vase flying towards him.

Part of you wanted to blow something up, the other part of you wanted to kick Joaquin in the chest. 

There was a sliver that was upset though, upset that he genuinely thought so little of you. 

Before you could storm off to your room like a child throwing a temper tantrum, you stormed right into Bucky, practically falling back after walking right into him, but he easily steadied you.

“Seriously Bug? Still angry walking and not paying attention?” 

You sighed, looking at Bucky and shaking your head. It took him half a second to realize who made you angry.

“Let me guess, you and Joaquin still haven’t kissed and made up?” 

You scoffed at him, shaking your head, then you were walking in sync with him. You honestly had no idea where Bucky was headed, but now you were too busy venting to him about your problems. Besides, you always used to vent to him about anything and everything prior to him going off to pursue being a Congressman.

“No, Buck, you don’t understand. I’ve done nothing to him! Nothing at all! And still no matter what, he’s constantly an asshole to me! It’s like if I even breathe the wrong way he’s just mad about it. Now, we have this stupid gala to be at tonight and I have to wear a stupid dress and I’m already irritated, then, then I’m talking to Bob, y’know being nice like Sam said to be! Sure, I think the guy’s hot-he’s got the whole shy introvert thing going on-but I’m not over here throwing myself at him!”

Bucky nodded as you spoke, humming every so often so you knew he was listening. Meanwhile he was trying to figure out the best way to let you know that Joaquin Torres was obviously in love with you.

“Then-then get this Buck! He’s just mean to be mean! Today I complimented him, sure I was a little too touchy feely, but then he like jerks away from me and acts like I have the damn plague or something! Whatever happened to extending an olive branch and not being a dickhead?!”

Bucky laughed at that, it wasn’t a light laugh either, no it was loud and boisterous and it caught you off guard.

“You probably flustered him. He’s just a guy, don’t get too caught up in him being an asshole, alright? There’s plenty of other fish in the sea that won’t make you so mad you’re about to blow a hole in the tower.” 

You nodded at that.

After your conversation with Bucky, you were quick to make it back to your designated room, finding your laptop and finalizing all of your work related documents, then you knew it was about time to start getting ready for the obnoxious Gala, and of course, that also meant having to mix and mingle with everyone.

So you screamed into a pillow six times, then started getting ready. Showering and doing your best not to wet your hair was the longest part, then you’d gone back over your hair, ensuring that your hair and extensions were blended seamlessly as you sat in front of the floor length mirror curling them.

Makeup was easy, mostly because you didn’t have it in you to do an entire glamorous look, instead you’d opted for something soft and simple with a bold red lip to compliment the obnoxious dress they’d chosen for you.

You still didn’t even know who picked the dress out, but your money was on Kate, considering she’d asked you for your exact measurements three days ago over text. Plus she had an eye for dramatics. 

By the time that Peter had showed up to get dressed and ready, you were sorting through your jewelry, with your ‘I hate men’ playlist on full volume. 

He opted to stay quiet, getting dressed as you angrily applied your makeup and fixed your hair. Once it was time for you to put the dress on, you walked into the ensuite, slamming the door behind you in your own silent rage.

How Joaquin had the nerve to treat you the way he did was just baffling to you? It made no sense!

You were jumping up and down trying to get the zipper to work on the back of your dress, huffing and puffing a few times before yelling out “Can you come help me?!”.

When the bathroom door opened, you expected Peter. When your eyes met Joaquin’s in the reflection, you debated on kicking his ass right then and there, but that wouldn’t be possible, considering one of your hands was on the front of your dress, holding it up against your bare chest, while your other hand was leaning against the countertop.

He stared at you with his lips slightly parted, and if you weren’t so irritated, maybe you would’ve blushed.

“Can you zip my fucking dress up instead of staring at me?” 

He rolled his eyes at that, now standing behind you, holding the top of the dress together, then finding the zipper closer to your lower back. His brows knit together at the sight of the tattoo along your spine, and that knowledge made him a little light headed.

“Didn’t know you had tattoos.” 

You scoffed. “Once again, you don’t know shit about me so that’s not very shocking, Torres”. 

He shook his head at that, grasping the zipper and slowly sliding it up until he hit the top. His hands lingered on your skin for a few seconds after, then you were shoving him away, walking right past him, practically shoulder checking him on the way out of the en suite.

You gave Peter a dirty look while he fumbled with his tie.

“Ugh, c’mere let me fix it.” You were adjusting Peter’s tie, all while Joaquin leaned against the doorframe and watched. The sight had his right eye twitching slightly. 

Once the Gala was in full swing you were mingling with everyone, flashing fake smiles, a few winks, and even a few flirty lines to some of the older more influential politicians and socialites there. It was easy to get information out of them, a handful of giggles and a shy smile was everything they needed from you.

It also helped that your tits were practically out, sitting pretty in your crimson dress, as if you were Jessica Rabbit herself.

Joaquin stayed in the back for the most part, ignoring the pent up aggression in his body while his eyes followed you through the room. Each and every person you spoke to, he made a mental note of, part of his job was to do reconn, the other part was to keep you safe. 

At least that’s what Sam had told him prior to the event. Meanwhile, Peter was nowhere to be found, but that was also most likely because he was touring the research facilities with some of the other influential scientists present. Valentina made sure to dot all of her I’s and cross each and every one of her T’s to make tonight successful.

You didn’t even want to be there, you’d even run into Kate and Yelena, both of them doing exactly what you were doing, which earned a few succinct head nods and winks. 

The music was too loud, the champagne was disgusting, your head was hurting, and you were still a ball of pent up rage.  Across the room, Joaquin was feeling the same exact way.

It wasn’t until some politician’s son had pulled you to the dance floor in a different room for a shitty slow dance that Joaquin had finally snapped. Maybe it was the way you smiled at the man, laughing, getting too close for comfort, pressing your ample chest against his own. Or maybe it was the way that you let the man’s hands roam along your waist, down to the curve of your ass that really got to him.

Joaquin didn’t know, nor did he care.

All he knew was within seconds he was behind you, gently pulling you back and away, offering some half-assed excuse about needing to handle Avengers business, then he was dragging you away from everyone. 

You two stood in silence in the elevator, the air was thick with tension and you wanted nothing more than to rip his head off like a female praying mantis.

Then, the doors dinged and he dragged you down the hall, right to his room and as he kicked the door shut, he stared right at you in the dimly lit room.

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

You scoffed at the question, taken aback, laughing at his outburst.“You dragged me away from our job to ask me what my god damn problem is? Meanwhile, you’ve been nothing but an asshole to me for forever at this point, you don’t know anything about me, and still you constantly judge me, and constantly talk down to me like I’m some little fucking kid. Newsflash Torres, I’m twenty five not six.”

He shook his head at that, taking a deep breath.

“Your favorite color is blue. It’s not sky blue, it’s not navy, no it’s the color of a Robin’s egg, it’s not exactly blue and it’s not exactly green.” 

You stood in silence at that, brows knit together as you looked at him.

“You have a playlist for every bad mood you’ve ever been in, and I’ve probably contributed to more than half of them. Your favorite season is Spring and you hate the winter, you smell like fucking sunshine and oranges and lemons and it drives me insane because you drive me insane.” 

He ran a hand through his hair while he spoke, then he loosened his tie, with one hand, pulling at the collar of his shirt as if he was hot.

Joaquin was absolutely burning up.

“Being around you makes me feel like I’m fucking losing my mind, everything about you pisses me off to no extend, I can’t stand it when you’re around but I hate it when you’re gone-” you cut him off, closing the space between the both of you, pressing your lips against his.

When you tried to pull away he placed a hand on the back of your neck, lightly holding you in place, lips moving against yours. The kiss was anything but sweet, it was all teeth and tongue, pent up anger, jealousy, and downright delusion. Every single aspect of his being was on fire, and you were the only thing that could extinguish it.

He backed you up against the door, the thick mahogany cold against your back was the only thing grounding you. His hand stayed behind your neck, the other on your waist, holding you against him firmly. He’d easily won control of the kiss, it was like he was trying to prove himself.

You were intoxicating and maddening. 

It was sending him deeper and deeper into a hole that he wasn’t sure he’d ever get out of. 

His lower half was pressed directly against you, but the second you bit his bottom lip, one of his legs easily slid between yours, practically pinning you against the door. His grip on your waist bruising while he started trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your throat.

He spoke between kisses “do you know-” kiss “-how crazy you make me-” kiss “every single day of my life”. Then as he met your pulse point, you gasped, earning a smirk from him before he started nipping at the skin there, sucking a harsh mark against you, your hands now in his hair, tugging at the curls as your back arched into him.

“Shit-fuck you Torres” he nodded at that, tongue gliding against the freshly bruised skin.

“Trust me, you’re gonna” you blinked a few times, letting out a raspy laugh, shaking your head at him.

“This why you’re always so mean? Cause you wanna fuck me? Could’ve just asked nicely” he groaned at your flirtatious tone, a short giggle leaving your lips as his tongue moved against your neck, tracing your skin, the saltiness made him moan. He wanted to run his tongue along your entire body.

He shook his head, leaving another bruising kiss to your exposed skin as he started moving lower, then you gasped as the hand that was on the back of your neck slid between your body and the door, easily finding the dress’s zipper, slowly tugging it down.

“Gonna make you mine for tonight” his words were muffled against your skin, lips moving along your exposed shoulders down to the swell of your chest. Then he was pulling the dress down, moaning against your skin. 

“These are so nice-you’re so fuckin pretty” he took his time, kissing along each of your tits, leaving a few marks. Each time you pulled his hair, he’d moan then lightly bite against your supple skin. He took his time trailing his tongue along each of your nipples. Rolling the hardened peaks between his teeth before lightly sucking against them.

Your whimpers and gasps were like music to his ears.

You managed to press yourself closer to him, head leaned against the door behind you as he moved lower and lower, pulling your gown down to the ground as he tried to kiss every single inch of your exposed skin.

His lips were searing, he felt like he was on fire. His ears were practically ringing.

Then he was on his knees, pulling his tie off, tossing it to the side as he helped you step out of the dress. Then you were being pushed further against the door, one of your thighs now resting against his shoulder while he kissed along your lower stomach, moving to your upper thighs, then he bit into your inner thigh, a sharp gasp leaving your lips.

When met with your clothed pussy he moaned, leaning into it, nose practically pressed against the wet patch as he took a deep inhale, biting his bottom lip before licking a flat stripe against the thin lace. 

“Smell so good-fuck can I taste you?” your eyes widened at his needy tone, nodding your head as you looked down at him, he looked absolutely wrecked and he’d barely even touched you.

He used one hand to pull your panties to the side, moaning at the sight of your glistening cunt.

The Joaquin Torres you were seeing now was a completely different man than the one that’d been purposefully being an asshole to you for months. 

He looked desperate as he licked his lips, a breathy laugh slipping past his kiss-swollen lips before he leaned in, tongue flat against your cunt, moving from your weeping entrance to your clit.

Your hands were back in his hair in seconds.

That was all it took for him to absolutely lose himself in your cunt. He focused on lapping his tongue against your clit, swirling around the pearl as if it was his last meal, moaning at your taste. Then he brought it into his mouth, sucking on it as if he was dying of thirst, the motion made your thighs shake slightly.

You tried to push him away-it was too much. 

But he’d just begun. He used one of his hands to pin you in place, fingers digging into your thigh, holding you right against him, the other hand was currently focused on undoing his belt, trying to relieve the pressure on his restrained cock.

You were loud, louder than he expected as you ground yourself against his face, moaning a mixture between half-spoken words and whines.

He didn’t let up, keeping his focus on your clit while you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening. Then he moved away from your clit slightly, licking against it a few more times before trailing down, tongue now prodding at your sopping entrance, the slight intrusion made you light headed.

Joaquin was teasing you now, enjoying the sting from you pulling his hair and your low whines and whimpers. Not to mention the way you tasted, he’d stay between your thighs for days if you’d let him.

“Fuck-please I need more” he smirked, now pulling away to look up at you.

“More what?” you let out a low whimper at that, now looking down at him again, your brows knit together, lips swollen and parted, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin. 

You were glowing, he wanted to be a little mean, but he couldn’t, not when you were looking at him so desperately.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you everything you need” then his tongue was back on your clit, and one of his thick fingers was sliding right into your hole, he was met with a little resistance as you immediately clenched around the digit, your walls fluttering, then practically pulling him in as you ground your hips against his hand and face.

Then he slid a second finger in, and you just about lost it, your back arching even harder, a high pitched moan practically echoing in the room as you were creaming around his fingers, rocking your hips, fucking yourself on them to prolong your own orgasm.

He bit his lip at the sight of you, then he started moving his fingers, thrusting them into you, curling them perfectly, finding the spot that made you see stars. 

It was too much, but you couldn’t push him away, not when he had you pinned between himself and the door. 

He continued to suck on your clit, moaning at the taste of you as his fingers sped up, the sloshing sound of your cunt was almost embarrassing. You were positive you’d never been this wet in your life.

He didn’t care anymore, he didn’t have time to be sweet or gentle with you, his pace was brutal, fingers practically pounding into you while his tongue flicked against your swollen bundle of nerves. Except the faster and harder his fingers fucked into you, the slower his tongue moved against your clit.

He looked up at you, hooded eyes moving from your tits, moaning at the sight of them slightly bouncing as you ground yourself against him, to your pretty face. You were biting your bottom lip, one hand still in his hair, the other moving to your thigh that was propped up on his shoulder. 

Joaquin thought you were going to try to push his hand away, instead you grasped it, yours clutching against the top of his. That made him blush-as if he wasn’t already flushed from tongue fucking you.

You were an absolute wreck above him. He knew you were close, your walls constantly clenching around his fingers.

“You’re so fuckin tight-can’t wait to get my cock in you” you nodded at that, biting your bottom lip and whimpering. “Gonna fuck you so good-make you forget all about anyone else” you were moaning above him, getting closer and closer to your orgasm, chasing your high as you practically bounced against his penetrating digits.

“Yeah, you’d want that huh? Want me to fuck you stupid?” you tugged harshly on his hair, pushing him back into your cunt, the motion earned a throaty laugh from him. Then his tongue was back on your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure as he focused on the rosebud.

Then you were gushing on his fingers and the lower half of his face. It had initially caught him off guard, then he pulled back, watching your cunt squirt for him as he finger fucked you through your orgasm.

He then slowly pulled his fingers out, smirking at you whimpering. Then his fingers were in his mouth as he licked them clean before his tongue was back on you, licking and slurping everything, moaning at the taste of you.

“Fuck Torres-shit stop-” you were now pushing his head away, still out of breath as you looked down at him. He sat back on his haunches, looking right at you, his face still wet, chest rising and falling, and it was then that you noticed his belt was undone, his pants were unzipped, and there was a very large tent emphasizing his hard-on.

Your legs were a bit wobbly as you leaned against the door, then he slowly stood up, tossing his suit jacket to the side. 

Then he stood up, and suddenly you felt too exposed. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes trailed along your nearly-nude figure. Taking in every single detail of your body. 

“You’re beautiful y’know that” you rolled your eyes at him, shoving past him and walking towards the bed, and when he stood in place, just watching you, head tilted to the side as his eyes focused on your ass and thighs you scoffed.

“Are you gonna fuck me or stare me down?” 

He shook his head at your tone. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt as he approached you. “That attitudes gotta go Princessa” you rolled your eyes at the pet name, slowly starting to remember why you didn’t like him in the first place.

Then when you stood at the edge of his bed facing away from him, he smirked, pushing you down, guiding your body onto the mattress. Once you were on it, he was quick to grasp your hips, pulling them up, his strength shocked you. Then again he was an Air Force Captain and the Falcon for a reason. 

His hand was at the small of your back, pushing you down slightly, enjoying the way that you arched for him while your upper body was flat against the bed. He wasn’t going to force you onto your hands and knees-not when he knew you couldn’t take it. 

Then you started moving your hips, swaying them side to side as your legs parted a bit further. But when you were on your forearms, taking a second to look back at him, your hair cascading around your figure while you met his eyes-that was his breaking point.

He didn’t even fully remove his pants, he pulled his cock out as fast as possible, and you moaned at the sight. Joaquin looked directly at you as he slowly stroked his cock, then he was leaning forward, one hand outstretched close to your face.

“Spit” you raised a brow, eyeing his hand, then his dick, then as you made eye contact you moved closer to his hand, slowly spitting into it, letting it glide off of your tongue right into his palm. He bit his lip at the sight, then pulled his hand back, now running it along his cock.

“You gonna let me fuck you just like this? Fuck you raw so you can feel it all?” you nodded at him, ignoring the part of your brain screaming at you that it was a bad idea. This was Joaquin Torres, he was an asshole! But you couldn’t give less of a shit right now.

Then he was closer to you, tapping the head of his cock against your swollen clit a few times, the motion making you whimper. He started running the tip along your cunt, and each time it would catch on your entrance, you’d roll your eyes and whine.

You hadn’t expected him to land a firm slap to your ass-the motion caught you off guard, eyes widening at the feeling. Then he did it again, and on the third time you let out a broken moan.

“I always thought you were wound too tight, guess you just need to be fucked good huh?” his condescending tone made you whimper, your forehead resting against your arms while you clenched around nothing. The sight had him biting his bottom lip, watching as your pussy fluttered over and over again.

He hadn’t stopped jerking himself off as he watched you, then he was lining himself up with your entrance and part of him wanted to go slow, but you were just too fucking agitating. So the second he was able to slide the head of his cock into you, he bottomed out in one harsh thrust, the motion practically knocking the air out of your lungs.

Your back arched even harder-the sight had his brows raised while he took a second to breathe.

“Fuck-you’re so fuckin tight, cunt’s gripping me in a vice” you moaned at his words, taking a few deep breaths as you tried to adjust to him. 

“‘S too big-fuck you’re too deep” your words were slurred together as you tried to move your hips, he was invading each and every one of your senses, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

He shushed you as he slowly pulled out “It’s okay, you can take it-I know you can” you moaned at his words, toes curling slightly, one hand moved back-you tried to push him away, but he grasped it instead, now holding your wrist, pinning your hand in place on your lower back while he started fucking into you.

Joaquin was slow at first, giving you time to adjust to his size, he knew he wasn’t exactly small, but the way you were practically mewling from the stretch was making him feel light headed. 

“Just like that baby, relax into it, taking it so well now-” he spoke as he started building a rhythm, each thrust earning moans and whimpers from you. He bit his lip at the sight of him fucking into you, watching as your pussy swallowed him whole, over and over again. “-just like that baby, fuck, pussy was made f’me”

You were fluttering around him again. He let go of your hand, instead leaning over you more, grasping your hair, pulling you up slightly, your hands catching on the bed, holding yourself in place at the new angle. Then he dropped your hair, one hand on your jaw now, while he leaned into your space.

“Feel that Princessa? Feel how deep I am, fuck, look at you, can’t even talk huh?” you nodded at him, head leaning back now as you tried to look at him, but you couldn’t focus on anything he was saying, not when he started fucking you harder and faster.

Then two of his fingers slid into your mouth, you were quick to start sucking on them, swirling your tongue around them as he muffled your whimpers. 

He bit his bottom lip, now sliding his fingers to the side of your mouth, keeping it open, pulling you back slightly just like that. They were hooked into your cheek and you were leaning into his hand, spit dribbling along his fingers and your jaw while he practically pounded into you.

The mixture of your moans and his were loud, but not as loud as the sound of skin slapping and the wet slosh of your cunt. 

“‘M gonna cum-please-fuck let me cum” you were begging him, words a bit slurred as he was still pulling against the side of your mouth. The sounds of you begging had his hips faltering slightly, but he easily regained his rhythm, now moving his fingers out of your mouth, dragging your spit along your jaw as his hand wrapped around your throat.

Then he was leaning over you, practically caging you in as he kept his relentless pace. You leaned your head back against his shoulder as he lightly tightened his grip on your throat, the added pressure making your head fuzzy.

“You wanna cream all over my cock huh baby?” you nodded, looking to the side slightly, trying your best to look at him. 

You were so fucked out and that only turned him on more. His lips were on yours in an instant. You couldn’t really kiss Joaquin back, you tried, but you were just moaning and whimpering against his lips.

“Fuck-cum for me princessa” you nodded, moaning as you felt yourself tip over the edge into a sea of ecstasy, except it was never ending, he fucked you through your orgasm, moaning against your shoulder as your cunt clenched around him.

He was quick to pull out of you, resting his head on your shoulder for a few seconds before moving back. You were too focused on catching your breath to focus on what he was doing. Then you felt it-his tongue back on your cunt, and you were a mess of whines and whimpers, hands clutching the duvet below at the overstimulation.

“You’re so sensitive, so fuckin reactive all the time-fuck you drive me crazy” he spoke before licking a flat stripe along your used cunt, then his tongue moved further, until it was resting along your other hole, lightly lapping at it, the newfound sensation made your eyes widened. Then he slid two fingers back into you, tongue lapping at your ass while he curled his fingers inside of you.

When he slid in a third finger, you were babbling, begging him for a break. 

He smirked at the sound, pulling his fingers and tongue away from your fucked out pussy.

As he moved back, he watched you practically flop into the bed, biting his lip at the sight of you in his bed. Where you belong. 

Then he was slapping your ass again a few times before helping you roll over.

“We’re not done baby” he stroked his cock as he spoke to you, you nodded your head at him, looking at him, eyes trailing along his bare chest, then down to his big cock, hand curled around it. “Eyes are up here Princess” you blinked a few times, gaze now on his.

You laughed while he kicked off his pants, he rolled his eyes at you for a few seconds, but for the first time in a long time, it was playful.

Then he made his way onto the bed, easily spreading your legs, making room for him between them as he used one arm to hold his weight above you. Now the two of you were face to face again, your eyes trailing his features, while he did the same thing.

“You ready beautiful?” you raised a single brow, wrapping one leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. The motion made the both of you laugh. 

It was nice to laugh with Joaquin.

He lined himself back up with your entrance, and as he slowly rolled his hips into you, you gasped, back arching slightly while one of your hands gripped against his side, nails digging into his tanned skin. 

“Can you go slow?” your voice was breathy, and the question was almost a whisper. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him pulling his hips back.

Your question made his heart race, his eyes practically popping out of his head. It wasn’t that Joaquin had anything against slow sex, but he was already on top of you, and he was about to lose his mind and profess his love to you like an idiot.

It didn’t help that even after a few orgasms, your cunt was still squeezing him in a vice grip.

“You feel so fuckin good baby” you nodded at the praise “and you’re so pretty, fuck just look at you” his free hand was now on your jaw, thumb tugging at your bottom lip slightly while he spoke.

“Fuck-need you to be mine” you nodded at his words, too cockdrunk to care about anything that he was saying. The intimacy of it all was sending you to cloud nine. 

Then he started moving a bit faster, fucking into you a bit harder-the new pace had your eyes opening, looking up at him while you rolled your hips into him, meeting his motions.

“Just like that baby-fuck taking it so good-so fuckin tight” you nodded at his words, pulling his thumb into your mouth, sucking on it briefly before he pressed it against your tongue. 

“Open your mouth, fuck-good girl-just like that” then he leaned over and spit directly on your tongue before pulling you into a sloppy heated kiss. Your lips moved in sync as you both swallowed each other’s moans, your hands were scratching along his back as his thrusts got faster and a bit more sporadic.

He pulled back for air just in time to hear you moan his name. 

“Fuck-say it again baby” you nodded, moaning his name while he trailed open mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulders “-fuck I’m close-where do you want it?” his breathy words were strained and raspy while he moaned against your skin.

You moved one hand, now tugging on his hair again as you moaned out “Inside-fuck inside Joaquin” he let out a deep gutteral moan at that.

Then he started talking, and it was a bit incoherent at first, but you fully understood him the longer he spoke “fuck-feels so fuckin good baby-fuck gonna fill you up-fuck a baby into you- make you mine forever” you couldn’t help the whimper that left your lips following his words.

“Just like that, fuckin little cunt’s squeezing me so well-that’s what you want huh? Want me to fill you up? Want me to make you mine?” you nodded, your eyes watering from the overstimulation.

Then your orgasm hit and it was as if your entire body was levitating, a white heat spread throughout you while you gushed around his cock, practically screaming his name while your nails dug into his back and shoulders.

He was quick to follow, a warmth spreading inside of you as his hips jerked a few times, filling you with everything he had while he moaned against your skin.

Then he pulled out of you, laying right beside you while staring up at the ceiling.

You two sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, you shifted awkwardly at the feeling of his cum running down your cunt and inner thigh, meanwhile he was trying to process what just happened.

“Uh…for the record…I don’t want to get you pregnant. It just kinda came out of me” you slowly nodded your head at his statement. 

“What about the other part?” he blinked a few times before his eyes widened and he registered what he said.

“Which part?” you scoffed, now glancing over at him. “So you’re seriously gonna act stupid as if you didn’t just fuck me, then tell me you wanted to get me pregnant so I could be yours forever.” 

He took a sharp inhale, grimacing slightly at your words before he finally turned to look at you.

“Is now a bad time to tell you that I’ve been a dick to you because I’ve been really jealous of Peter this entire time and was completely under the impression that you two were dating?” you stared at him with a dumbfounded expression, then you scoffed and shook your head, getting up-wincing slightly- and making your way to the en suite.

“You’re such an asshole with shit communication skills!” you shouted as you slammed the door behind you. In this moment he was glad you weren’t some kind of super soldier, otherwise the Avengers tower would’ve been down a door. 

He sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his now messy hair. Then he found his clothes and slid on his briefs, pacing around the room, trying to figure out what to say to you, or how to apologize, or what to do next. It wasn’t like he could just waltz up to you and apologize.

You interrupted his pacing when you stormed out of the bathroom wearing one of his Air Force t-shirts and your panties. When did you manage to find either of those items? He had no idea. All he knew was he really liked the look on you.

Then you were grabbing your dress and heels, and for the first time in a long time, he watched you use your magic, disappearing into a cloud of red dust. 

He was so fucked.

Joaquin didn’t sleep well last night, that was for certain. Half of the night was spent with him reliving the night with you. He couldn’t get his mind to focus on anything but the image of you above him and below him, the way that your hair framed your face, the way that you moaned his name-every single bit and piece of it.

Then he was tossing and turning contemplating on how to actually address the situation properly. It also didn’t help that his bed smelled just like you. It was as if he couldn’t get away from you.

Not that he wanted to ever get away from you.

In the past forty-eight hours he’d managed to realize that the entire reason you irritated every single morsel of his being was because he was jealous of your friendship with Peter Parker, he’d then been able to actually have mind blowing sex with you, then embarrass himself by letting his breeding kink slip out, and finally, get you to hate him even more.

You’ve also been avoiding him.

This was the most he’d seen you use your magic in years at this point. Usually you used it when needed on a mission, or for small miniscule tasks. You never did the whole ‘disappearing in thin air’, not until last night and today that is.

You’d done it twice already today.

He couldn’t even track you down to talk to you, and he was overly frustrated. 

Joaquin found himself sitting in one of the high-tech laboratories in the tower, his arms resting against a random desk as he leaned his forehead on them. Giving himself time to wallow in self pity under the guise that he was actually doing work.

Besides, it was clear hardly anyone used these labs. 

He thought he would just be alone all day, that was until the doors opened and the sound of whistling filled the room. Joaquin knew exactly who it was before even looking up.

Then a chair was pulled out near him, not too close, but not too far. It was a fair distance, and Peter was quick to clear his throat.

Joaquin slowly looked up and over at him, meanwhile Peter had his hands in his hoodie’s pocket while he looked directly at Joaquin with an expression that was the perfect mixture between disappointment and shock.

“So, I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I’ve had a girlfriend for a long time now, her names MJ, uh yeah. Bug told me what happened-well she spared me most of the details. Outside of the whole baby thing. I’m not judging though, just thought I’d come with some helpful advice”

Joaquin sighed, running a hand over his face while he looked at Peter.

“I fucked up didn’t I?” the younger man nodded. “Majorly, listen I’m not mad about the whole jealousy thing, I think I see where you’re coming from but she’s like family to me. Uh but the thing is, she thinks you hate her which is kind of the whole issue here”.

“I’ve never hated her, I think I might actually be in love with her” Peter nodded, shrugging a bit.

“Yeah I’ve been saying that for a while, kinda figured between the lovesick staring and the glaring at me anytime she laughs at anything I say. But between me and you, you still have a chance, she wouldn’t be reacting the way she is if she didn’t like you even a little bit.”

Joaquin slowly nodded, looking down at his hands for a few seconds, running his thumb over the few small scratches you left on one of them.

“Don’t try to do a grand gesture either, she hates that kind of stuff. You just gotta talk to her and actually act like a civilized adult. Don’t worry though, I’ll help you actually get her in a room”

Four hours later, you were sitting in a conference room, on top of the table, swinging your legs back and forth as you looked at the few monitors in front of you. You were focused on taking note of the different feeds, and diagnostic issues with the satellite imaging and reports. 

The sound of the door opening didn’t catch your attention, you just assumed it was Peter coming back with either Yelena and Kate. He said he’d be back in fifteen minutes, it’d been around thirty.

Then again, it’s not like he’d left you with some hard task.

However, at the sight of Joaquin Torres you rolled your eyes. This had to be Peter’s idea. You couldn’t exactly up and disappear when monitoring two live feeds while actively running diagnostic scans that required specific time variations. 

“Can we talk? Please?” you clenched your jaw, putting the notebook down.

“What could you possibly have to say to me? Are you here to tell me you regret fucking me too? Or just that you don’t know how to actually talk about your feelings like a grown adult, and instead opt to treat people like shit for funsies because you can’t control your own jealousy?” 

He rolled his lips in, nodding his head at you. He had to admit, you were right, and there wasn’t exactly much he could do or say that would make up for how he treated you.

“I wanted to apologize, not just for the whole acting weird after we had sex, but for being an asshole to you and constantly pushing you away. I know it was stupid for me to be jealous of you and Parker, and he told me about his girlfriend, and I realized that I don’t know everything about you but I want to, everything I know about you is from eavesdropping on your conversations and based on what everyone tells me.”

He paused, running a hand through his hair “-I just want us to be more than what we were. And I’m genuinely sorry for everything, I just, I guess I thought I’d never have a chance so I pushed you away and then you constantly irritated me. Everything about you pissed me off and I think that’s also because I told myself that I would never be able to have you so it was just easier-”

You cut him off “easier to be a dickhead than to be my friend?” he nodded at that.

“But not because it was easy to be an asshole to you, but because I could never just be your friend. I’d never want to just be your friend. I think I’m in love with you, or I’m falling in love with you”

You slowly nodded your head, unsure of what to say to him. It wasn’t like you would forgive him overnight for the way he’d treated you, and having sex with someone wasn’t exactly a decent apology.

But maybe, maybe you could give him a chance.

“So you’re in love with me?” he slowly blinked, hands now on his hips while he looked at you, then around the room before awkwardly laughing.

“Uh-maybe? I don’t actually know.” your brows knit together at that.

“Okay Joaquin. Tell you what, what if we just try being friends first, and then see where that takes us? I’m not just gonna magically forgive you for being a dickhead to me all the time, but I guess Peter was right about you”

He blinked a few times, head tilted to the side slightly “what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged again “he told me you were like desperately into me which is why you said you’d get me pregnant when we had sex” you said it so casually, and that had him choking on air. He shushed you immediately, looking around the room, making sure no one was outside listening in. After all, the conference room was surrounded by large glass windows.

You looked him up and down.

“Yeah, I could see myself falling for you-the real you. Not the asshole version of you” he smiled at that, biting his bottom lip slightly.

“So friends?” he nodded at you. “Friends”.

[annab-recs]

just wanna lay in joaquin’s lap while he plays with my hair after a long day and tells me what a pretty girl i am. sigh why isn’t he real 💔

ugh yeah need this so bad!!!! thank u for the thought lovely

joaquín torres x fem!reader, 0.5k words

Joaquín’s not paying much attention to the film you’ve put on.

It’s background noise to him — all his attention is on you instead. You’re lying on the couch with your head in his lap, hands criss-crossed over your stomach. Joaquín tried paying attention to the movie, he really did, but then he got distracted by the soft rise and fall of your chest, then by the TV light glowing on the slope of your nose and catching on a cluster of your eyelashes like starlight.

He gazes down at you, feeling fondness in his chest like an ache, while you watch your film, totally oblivious to his ogling. When he pushes a strand of hair from your face with his thumb, careful so as not to disturb you, you sigh a little but don’t say anything.

Joaquín tucks your hair behind your ear for you, intending to return his attention to the TV, only to get distracted again by the feeling of your hair in his fingers. He starts stroking the top of your head, running his hands through your hair, and that’s when you confront him.

“Baby,” you murmur into the quiet. You stir, and then twist so you’re looking up at him. “What’re you doing?”

Joaquín looks at you and suddenly really wants to kiss you. He decides against it, not wanting to show how absolutely smitten he is for you right now.

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

You give him a look, your brow furrowing as you squint at him, and Joaquín knows you don’t believe him without you having to say anything at all.

He folds under your gaze and laughs, a rumble in his chest.

“You look pretty,” he admits, embarrassed and fond at once. “It’s distracting.”

Your turn to laugh. You giggle like he’s said the most romantic thing ever, your shoulders creeping towards your ears.

“Shut up,” you tell him, your tone hushed like he’s embarrassed you. “Watch the movie.”

Joaquín grins so hard it almost hurts, obsessed with the way you chastise him. “Can’t I watch you instead?”

You groan and twist towards him so you can bury your face in his abdomen. You hide in his hoodie, grumbling, and Joaquín’s heart pumps in his chest like it wants out. He loves when you get flustered like this.

“Sorry, amor,” he says, smiling til his cheeks ache, and rubbing your shoulder with a warm hand. “I was only kidding. Come on, you’re missing the best part.”

As if he would know. He doesn’t even know what part the movie’s up to, couldn’t recall what happened in the last forty minutes of it, he’s been too distracted by you and he’s not gonna look away now.

You emerge from his hoodie, glaring at him with less heat than a block of ice. Joaquín rubs your shoulder some more, thumb slipping underneath your collar.

“On second thought, I think we’ll have to rewind,” he says gravely.

“Why’s that?” You ask, sounding and looking like you know what he’s about to do.

Joaquín, sick of restraining himself, curves his hand around your bicep and bends to kiss you, pressing his mouth to your soft lips. You suck a breath in, and then you’re pushing up into the kiss, your hand curving around his forearm.

The film plays on in the background, forgotten for the meantime.

[annab-recs]

jake sully tags

all jake recs are at #p: jake sully

by genre

none at the moment

by length/type

#js: blurb

by trope

none at the moment

by au

#js: navi reader

by author

#js: hanasnx

[annab-recs]

sometimes you and JAKE SULLY bond just because you can. laying together, tangled limbs, breathing together. he picks up the end of his braid to offer it to you, and you do the same. watching the tendrils intertwine and fasten into a comfortable embrace. your breath is now one. you lay in each other’s atmospheres to bask in what it’s like to share this bond. thoughts are passed between you like vague emotions that bloom in your chest, the ghost of an idea you can just barely capture the smoke of. yet you can feel his heartbeat as if it’s in your own chest. he can feel the prickle of the hairs at the back of your neck where they lay on his bicep. you’ve mated before and completed tsaheylu, now you’re just experiencing it in love’s name for hours at a time. a connectedness you can’t share with anyone else.

[annab-recs]

Joaquin’s Dog-tags live rent free in my mind! Like sure I’ve seen Bucky’s before and Sam probably wears his too but seeing Joaquin’s tags bouncing around his chest instantly knocks the wind outta me!

good god imagine them when he's on a run or something. maybe the two of you are at the gym and he's on the treadmill. and the gym is quiet except for the occasional clatter of weights and the low hum of a playlist running through the speakers. you had been minding your own business, seriously! just grabbing your water bottle and cooling down—until you heard it.

that soft, rhythmic clink of metal.

your eyes flicker toward the treadmill, almost on instinct.

joaquín is mid-run, wearing one of his miami hurricanes shirts with the sleeves cut off, the kind that’s cut just right, showing off the sharp lines of his shoulders and the sculpted muscle of his arms. his tan, sun-kissed skin glistens under the fluorescent lights, sweat trailing down his collarbone before disappearing beneath the fabric of his shirt.

but it’s the dog tags that have you hooked.

the way they bounce against his chest, catching the light at just the right angles, clicking against each other in a steady rhythm—shit. you don’t even realize you’re staring until you’re tracing the path from his arms to his shoulders, then down, down, down, and suddenly you’re thinking about other ways you’d like to hear those tags click.

like maybe above you. maybe dangling just over your face while he—

"you good?"

joaquín’s voice pulls you back to earth so fast it almost gives you whiplash. you blink, barely registering that he’s slowed the treadmill down to a steady walk, now turned just enough to glance at you with furrowed brows and that soft, easy concern he always carries.

you nod. too fast. too stiff. because there is absolutely no way you can trust yourself to form actual words right now.

instead, you take the safest possible escape route—tilting your head back, chugging your water, and turning away before he can see the thoughts running through your head.

flustered doesn’t even begin to cover it.

[annab-recs]

— february ‘25 —

reminder to read the warnings before a fic & to support writers & reblog :)

organized alphabetically by fandom, then by pairing, then by author

marvel

— joaquin torres —

first impressions - @backtothefanfiction

type: oneshot, genre: fluff

summary: the first time sam introduces you to joaquin

commentary: THE BANTER!! also living for danvers!reader

sleep talking - @backtothefanfiction

type: oneshot, genre: fluff

summary: joaquin could never keep a secret

commentary: a-freaking-dorable 🥰

the aftermath - @goosewriting

type: oneshot, established relationship, genre: fluff, angst

summary: reader visits joaquín at the hospital as he wakes up from surgery

commentary: sooooooo stinkin cute omg i love 😍😍

star wars

— tech —

gravity - @umbramoons

type: oneshot, established relationship, genre: fluff

summary: reader is really tense at the shoulders and overall just kinda tired/stressed, so tech offers giving her a quick massage

commentary: soooo good! i need more soft tech in my life

[annab-recs]

tech tags

all tech recs are at #p: tech

by genre

#bbt: fluff

by length/type

#bbt: oneshot

by trope

#bbt: established relationship

by au

none at the moment

by author

#bbt: umbramoons

[annab-recs]

Sleep Talking | Joaquin Torres

Summary; Joaquin could never keep a secret.

Warnings: none, this is all fluff

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

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

“Huh?” He grumbled sleepily.

“Baby, you’re squishing me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” you finally said softly.

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

“It’s alright,” you said.

“Did you look?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

[annab-recs]

helloo!

This is the first time I make a request so sorry if it's a little unclear.

Could you write a Tech x femreader where after a mission or something else (you can decide), reader is really tense at the shoulders and overall just kinda tired/stressed, so Tech offers giving her a quick massage. Maybe stablished relationship ? Better if it isn’t suggestive and just fluff.

thanks in advance if you choose to write this <3

I love this request so much, and I sincerely apologize that it took me this long to get to it. What I wouldn't give to relax with Tech. Thank you for the request, anon. (And requests are still open to all, BTW.)

Reblogs and comments mean the world! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Gravity

Tech x F!Reader

Warnings: Kisses, but that's basically it

Word Count: 1,035

All was quiet in the Marauder as you made your way up to the cockpit. Your ears were still ringing from the firefight your squad had barely escaped from just a few minutes ago. One of these days, you were really going to give Cid a piece of your mind… just once your head wasn’t pounding.

The consistent hum of hyperspace became louder inside the cockpit, and you slumped into the co-pilot’s seat. It was no feather mattress, but it was more comfortable than most other places on this ship. That, and the company found there could soothe you better than anyone else.

Tech took a second to adjust the controls one last time before swiveling his seat to face you. The blue glow emanating from the viewport made the lenses of his goggles almost opaque at this angle, but it couldn’t hide the way his brow furrowed as he looked you over. “Mesh’la… you look unwell.”

A heavy sigh left your chest as you brought a hand up to rub your eyes. “I’m okay. Just tired.” 

He nodded as he pulled out his datapad, dropping his eyes to the screen for the moment. “That is understandable. Cid seems to have a habit of sending us on missions that are… far from relaxing.”

All you offered in response was a hum, your eyes closed as you tried to calm yourself. Maybe some of those breathing exercises you’d been learning would help. You took a deep breath, but that breath caught as your lungs expanded, exposing a pinched nerve toward the top of your spine. It took everything in you not to grumble as you rolled your shoulders carefully, trying to work at the sore spot without aggravating it too much.

There was silence beside you until you heard Tech sigh heavily. When you opened your eyes to look at him, he was putting the datapad down, a question in his gaze. Your sigh echoed his as you nodded, shifting in the seat so your back was facing him. It wasn’t often that he offered something as intimate as a massage, and you normally had to fight not to appear too eager when he did. Tonight, however, you were too exhausted to feel much about it other than relief. 

Your hair was carefully swept over your left shoulder, and Tech rested his hands on your shoulders. “Where does it hurt?”

“Between my shoulders… mostly.”

His hands slid to the indicated spot, and you tried not to gasp as his fingertips gently rubbed at your skin. He had removed his gloves - you could feel it in the warmth of his touch.

“How are you holding up?” he whispered softly. “I want to know everything.”

You leaned your head back, keeping your shrug slight as not to impede his progress down your back. “It’s just… not easy. I love running around with you guys, seeing new places and helping people where we can. But every once in a while, I wish things were different.”

Tech hummed, letting his hands move up to the back of your neck. “In what way?”

“Well, for one, we wouldn’t be working for some self-obsessed sleemo who hardly pays us enough to cover one meal, let alone six.”

He laughed, but there was a resigned tone to it. “You’re not alone in that sentiment.” Tech rested his chin on your shoulder, his cheek against the side of your neck as his fingers ran up and down the opposite side. “What else?”

You opened your eyes, shifting so your cheek lightly rubbed against his hair. “I wouldn’t say no to more of this. We don’t spend enough time together where it’s just us.”

“Now that is a fact.” Tech’s breath warmed your face as he leaned around to kiss your cheek. “I will admit, there are times when we’re on a mission, and I look at you and I just…” He paused as another quiet sigh escaped him. “It’s almost impossible to describe. There’s this magnetism, this… gravity to you. If I allowed myself, I’m certain I would crash into you and never separate from you.” Tech reached around to take the armrests of your chair and turn you to face him. “Am I making any sense?”

You smiled affectionately. “Just a little.”

To your surprise, Tech’s hand slid up to your cheek, cupping your face gently. “I can offer more of an explanation, if you’d permit me.”

“It’s okay. I think I understand.”

“Do you?” He tilted his head with a small smile as his thumb traced over your cheekbone. “Enlighten me, mesh’la.”

You leaned into his touch, sighing for what had to be the hundredth time. “It’s simple. It only makes sense that you would be drawn to someone you love.”

His touch stilled, and then his hand shifted slowly, coming to rest beneath your chin and lift your face tenderly. “Cyar’ika, you truly are brilliant.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t make that connection.”

“I did, but there’s a beauty in the simplicity of your explanation.” His lips quirked into a bigger smile, a twinkle visible in his eyes through the lenses of his goggles. “As well as other aspects about you, obviously.”

You wrinkled your nose playfully. “Obviously.”

“Hush.” Tech’s fingers tightened around your chin as he pulled you closer, allowing his lips to hover over yours for a moment before fully committing to the kiss. And the sigh that escaped you this time wasn’t long-suffering or weary. It was nothing short of blissful.

After a moment, Tech pulled away just enough to whisper. “Now, my darling. You need to rest.” He smiled at your almost comically disappointed expression. “We can continue this at another time.”

“Promise?”

He placed a kiss on your left cheek. “I swear on your heart.” And then your right. “And on mine.”

You tried to pull him into another kiss, but you leaned back with a laugh when you saw his firm expression. “Fine, fine, I’m going. But I’m holding you to that promise.”

“I expect nothing less from you.” His expression softened as he watched you leave the cockpit, glad to see you leaving in better spirits than you had arrived. “Sleep well, my darling.”

[annab-recs]

joaquin torres tags

all joaquin recs are at #p: joaquin torres

by genre

#jt: angst

#jt: fluff

#jt: smut

by length

#jt: blurb

#jt: oneshot

by trope

#jt: enemies to lovers

#jt: established relationship

by au

#jt: avenger reader

by author

#jt: backtothefanfiction

#jt: bruisedboys

#jt: goosewriting

#jt: sortagaysortahigh

#jt: sunsburns

[annab-recs]

First Impressions | Joaquin Torres

Summary: the first time Sam introduces you to Joaquin

Warnings: flirting, fluff, playful banter

A/N: I fell in love with this man during Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Completely forgot about him until I watched the new Cap the other night. So here’s this little before going to sleep drabble. As you will quickly be able to tell I love the idea of a Carol Danvers niece reader given the whole air force thing. Hope people enjoy. May write some more in the future.

Joaquin was smitten the second you walked into his house. When Sam said he was headed over with “some new recruit” he hadn’t expected you. A roughed up baseball cap on top of your head, faded baseball jersey, baggy oversized jeans and sneakers, dripping from head to toe and almost shivering.

“What happened?” Joaquin asked Sam as you tentatively stepped through the sliding door, not wanting to drip too much on this strangers carpet.

“He dropped me in the lake.” Your voice blurted out, completely unamused, shooting daggers at the still newly appointed Captain America.

“Yeah, well, still better that than a 40ft drop onto hard ground.” Sam retorted.

“Or you could have just not dropped me at all?!” You stressed, hands raised in the air, still in complete disbelief over this turn of events. “That’s the last time I’m ever flying with you.” You muttered and you saw Joaquin let out a little chuckle over the situation.

That’s when you really took him in. The guy who Sam sung the praises of. His supposedly best recruit, not that he would actually tell him that.

“Come on, I’ll get you a towel.” Joaquin said, leading you upstairs and to the bathroom.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, do you?” You asked him, as he handed you a couple towels.

“Umm, yeah, of course, I’ll just go find you something.”

You didn’t wait for him to return before you whipped off your clothes and immediately jumped in the shower to wash the murky lake water off of you. You were grateful that it was an old tub and shower curtain situation and not one of those see through glass cabinet shower situations, not that it didn’t stop Joaquin from blushing when he came back into the bathroom a few minutes later with some clothes in hand.

“Oh, sorry- I didn’t realise you were- I’ll just leave these- uh- yeah.” He rushed out before quickly shutting the door again.

He hesitated a moment as he stood with his back to the door, his brain fixated on the small glimpse he got of your naked back from behind the shower curtain. He could feel the flush in his cheeks. The smile that threatened his lips. He fought to hide it as he went back down to Sam in the kitchen.

“So who is she?” Joaquin asked as he grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and passed it to Sam before picking up his own previously discarded mug to finish.

“She’s a Danvers.” Sam said, as if the surname alone held a lot of weight, but Joaquin still didn’t bite. “As in Carol Danvers… Captain Marvel.” Sam said, walking him through it slowly until Joaquin’s face began to flicker with recognition. “Carol’s her aunt. Before she became Captain Marvel she was one heck of an Air Force Pilot. Kid saw what her aunt did and decided to pick up the mantle.”

“And she’s good?” Joaquin fished, a flame for the woman upstairs really taking hold as Sam kept adding more fuel to the fire.

“Yeah, she’s fucking great. Best female pilot I’ve ever seen.”

“So you looking to set her up with a pair of wings?” Joaquin asked, even though he had a hint of jealousy to his tone. He enjoyed being the only person other than Sam who had access to the now not so secret military wings, but he also couldn’t deny the new found need to go flying with you on a sunny afternoon and treat you to a picnic on the top of a mountain or something.

“We’ll see.” Sam said sceptically, but Joaquin knew from the way Sam had even brought you to meet him he thought you had what it takes.

“What are you two girls talking about?” You asked as you came striding back into the kitchen in a pair of Joaquin’s joggers and his old air force T-shirt. You were using a towel to squeeze out your hair and Joaquin couldn’t deny you looked right at home in his house, wearing his clothes.

“Lover boy here was grilling me about you.” Sam joked, taking in the way Joaquin looked at you.

“Was he now?” You asked feigning interest and playing up to the little bit in order to embarrass him, but as you sat across from him at the table and really took him in for the first time, you couldn’t deny he was handsome- and if the T-shirt he gave you had anything to say, you definitely had a lot in common to bond over.

“Uh- um- no- I-“ Joaquin began to stutter bashfully.

“It’s all cool dude,” you reassured. “I know he’s just messing. You really shouldn’t let him rile you up like that.”

Joaquin sighed before he leaned in closer to you, “How do you stay so calm around him?” He asked as if Sam wasn’t there and you had all the secrets.

“Eh, when you grew up being told about your badass aunt with actual super powers, some guy in a read white and blue bird costume is nothing.” You joked.

“Hey!” Sam pointed at you, “don’t you dare turn him against me or I’ll drop your ass in the lake again.”

“So you admit it! You did it on purpose.” You said, slamming your hand on the table animatedly.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. What are you gonna do about it?” He asked back, but you didn’t say anything more. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You rolled your eyes at him before fixing them on Joaquin instead as Sam’s phone began to ring. You both turned your eyes on him as he checked the caller ID. “I need to take this.” He said, before getting up and dismissing himself, stepping out the back door to take the call outside.

“Would you like coffee?” Joaquin asked to break up the silence the two of you were left in.

“Umm, yes, that would be great.” You said with a smile and he got up to pour you a cup full from the pot.

“It looks good on you.” He said as he came back over a moment later and handed you the mug.

“What, now?” You said confused.

“Uh, my shirt,” he said with a shrug, as he committed to the statement. “It looks good on you.”

You couldn’t help but blush slightly under his gaze. He was cute and confident and oddly endearing. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he sat himself back down. “I guess I’ll keep it then.” You joked.

“The only way you’re keeping that thing is if you were my girlfriend.” He replied, half as a joke, half as a way of informing you just how much that shirt meant to him.

“Well I guess you better ask me on a date then.” You smirked playfully as he took a sip of his coffee and he almost choked as he spat it back into his cup. But before he could say anymore, Sam came back through the sliding door.

“Alright lovebirds, you can stop having your meet cute moment now, we gotta go,” he said to Joaquin.

“And what about me?” You said indignantly, feeling a little put out.

“He’ll be back in time to take you out on a proper date later.” Sam retorted, marching back through the house to get his shit from where he’d left it by the front door.

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” You asked, completely brushing over the rest of what he’d said. “I don’t even live anywhere near here!” You stressed. “You just brought me here and now you’re gonna up and leave me here!” You said indignantly.

Joaquin froze in the middle of the hallway next to you, looking from his mentor and back to you as he tried to keep up with what’s going on. He felt conflicted. “I mean, can’t she just come with us.” He offered. “I mean, you brought her out here because you wanted to see what she could do. So I say let her.”

Sam looked between the two of you slowly, before he conceded. “Uh, fine. But if anything happens with her it’s on your head.” He warned but you were both smiling.

“So, is this technically our first date?” You ribbed him as he began to usher you out the door so he could lock up.

“We’ll see. Depends if you like it or not.” He mused and you had to admit, his cheeky smile did make you swoon.

“And if I don’t?” You asked with a playful twinkle in your eye.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you with just as equal playfulness and innuendo, “you will.”

[annab-recs]

The Aftermath

summary: reader visits Joaquín at the hospital as he wakes up from surgery.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, mention and description of injuries and medical procedures, mention of accident and explosions, brief mentions of PTSD from events in Infinity War/Endgame, self-doubts and guilt

word count: 2.2k

A/N: i started writing this the moment i came home from watching BNW. can't believe it took me this long to write for him,, he's been rotating in my mind ever since tfantws <3 we really need more fics for joaquín, he’s so blorbo coded like cmon!! 🥹🥹 if you have any recs pls send them my way!

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

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

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

Sitting by Joaquín’s hospital bed, you bring your hands to your face as you remember his accident on the Indian Ocean. You had watched the broadcast in horror, your heart in your throat as his figure fell from the sky into the open water. 

At that moment, you couldn’t help but remember the video from all those years ago, where you saw how Rhodey had fallen as well, like a rock, everyone watching, unable to do anything to stop him. Just like War Machine, Joaquín had turned uncontrollably on his descent, one of his wings ripped from the suit by the missile exploding right in his face.

You’ve been in the Avengers’ orbit since a little before the battle against Thanos on Wakanda, where you had also fought with everyone, but then got blipped. The transition back to society with a gap of 5 years had been very hard on you, and while you stayed in contact with everyone who remained, helping out whenever you could, you didn’t really have it in you to go back out to the battlefield. Even after all this time, you still have nightmares about the snap and the Battle for Earth. 

Bringing your hands back into your lap, you let out a trembling breath, clinging onto the constant soft beeping of the machinery to tether yourself to reality and not fall down a spiral of despair. Every time your eyes roam over Joaquín’s injuries, you close your eyes, pressing the base of your hands over them, then open them again. Your sight is momentarily sprinkled with dots, and as it clears, you hope for everything to have been a horrible nightmare. But once your view clears up, he’s still there. Unconscious. Hurt.

The surgery he’d been in last night had felt like it was never going to end. Still, you had stayed the whole time, and once he got out, you stayed at his side. 

It’s been several hours since Joaquín got wheeled into his room, the head medic saying he was still unconscious but stable. You shift in the armchair by the bed where you sit. One of the nurses brought you something to eat earlier since you refused to leave, the wrapper of your sandwich still in your hands as your eyes start feeling heavier and heavier, and you can’t find it in yourself to fight the welcome embrace of sleep, slowly spreading through your limbs. You’ve almost completely dozed off when you hear a groan, and immediately your grogginess dissipates. You straighten up in your seat, the wrapper falling to the floor as you scoot closer to the bed, tears stinging behind your eyes. How you still have tears left, you have no idea, given how much you’ve cried in the past hours, terrified of losing the love of your life. 

Joaquín blinks several times, scrunching his face, eyes trying to adapt to the light. He lifts his good arm, looking at the tubes attached to it, and his gaze roams the room and down his body, face contorting in pain lightly. Then his eyes land on you, and his face immediately softens.

“Hey, there,” he croaks out. 

“You’re awake,” you whisper, holding his hand in your trembling ones. “I was scared you wouldn’t.”

“Pfft, it’ll take more than a meagre explosion to defeat the Falcon,” he retorts with a pained smile.

Normally you’d laugh at his jokes, enjoying his silly side, but right now you have no humour left in you. Another wave of tears rolls down your cheeks, and his smile vanishes.

“Please don’t joke about that,” you plead, giving his hand a squeeze. “You were hit by a freaking missile. From a fighter jet. While up in the air between two armies about to start a war with each other.”

“Well, if you put it like that…” He sighs. 

There’s a moment of silence where you again study his bruised face, your gaze landing on the massive burn covering his whole shoulder, streaks of red raw skin visible on his jaw and throat. Your brows furrow in frustration.

“I should have been there,” you mumble, angry at yourself for letting this happen.

“What?” he asks, craning his neck to fully look at you.

“I should have gone with you,” you say, bringing your eyes to look up at him. “Then I could have helped and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Joaquín exhales through his nose in disbelief.

“We were in the air, and I went head to head with the missile even after Sam told me to back off,” he retorts, shaking his head. “There was nothing you could have done.”

His tone isn’t scolding; he’s telling the truth and you know it. Still, you can’t help but feel like the outcome could have been different, if you had just been better, braver. You try to choke back a sob, unsuccessful, and his hold tightens around your hand.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” He speaks your name softly. “This isn’t on you. Please don’t cry.”

You grimace, biting the inside of your cheek.

“For a moment I thought you died, Joaquín. I was so scared,” you say with a shaky breath, bringing his hand to your face, and he cups your cheek. You place your hand over his, holding onto it and leaning into his touch like it was the last time you could hold him like this.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

Your heart shatters at the thought that even after getting hurt, after getting blown up, he’s the one apologising to you. He’s about to add something when the door opens and a nurse comes in. You back off a bit and hastily wipe your face with the back of your sleeves as she does some check-ups, both on Joaquín and the machines, taking some notes on her clipboard. She then takes one of the tubes attached to his arm, and places a syringe at the other end.

“What’s that?” you ask, suspicious. She gives you a quick look with a raised brow, but when she sees the state you’re in, her face relaxes again.

“Painkillers and antibiotics. He’ll need both of them,” she explains.

It doesn’t take long for the fluids to reach Joaquín’s blood system, and he visibly relaxes against the pillows and closes his eyes.

“Oh, hell yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he sighs, and the nurse chuckles softly. You still can’t get yourself to let go of your worry. Once she’s done with everything, she leaves the way she came, exiting the room. As the door closes behind her, your eyes land on the wrapper on the floor, and you pick it up with a sniffle, crumpling it up further.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you anything?” you ask as you throw the trash into the bin from where you sit, to your surprise making the shot. He doesn't answer, eyes still closed.

“Joaquín?” you ask softly, not wanting to wake him in case he fell asleep again.

“Huh? Wha?” His eyes open and he turns to look at you, his face visibly relaxed now.

“You okay?” You take his hand again, and he gives you a squeeze.

“Hmm-mm,” he hums with a nod, blinking slowly as he tries to focus on your face. “I just think I’m… kinda high right now.”

That’s when you finally break, unable to hold back an endeared chuckle, shaking your head. Joaquín’s eyes are filled with warmth and then concern as they land on your face, brows furrowing as if he just noticed something. His hand comes up to wipe away the remaining streak of tears. He also playfully pinches your cheek for good measure, eliciting another smile of yours.

“That’s better,” he concludes, a smile spreading on his face as well. The smile that could light up any room he’s in, in your humble opinion. 

You prop your elbow onto the edge of the bed, head in your hands as you look at him, and he looks back at you with a silly grin. The beeps on the machine speed up a bit, and you look up at the screen, then back at him with a brow raised in amusement.

“Usually you can’t tell because I’m smooth as hell, but it’s true,” he notes, like a huge secret was just uncovered. “You still make my heart race.”

Heat prickles on your cheeks at his words and you avert your gaze with a snort. As long as your heart is still beating, you think, remembering that they had to resuscitate him after the accident, but you shake those thoughts away, preferring to focus on the fact that he’s still here, alive.

“I know that the moment you’re back on your feet, you’ll be out there again, suited up,” you start after a moment, shooting him a serious look. “So I won’t ask you to stop. But promise me to be more careful next time?”

“Pinky promise.” Joaquín lifts his hand, fingers curled except for his pinky, and you can’t help but chuckle as you mirror his gesture, curling your finger around his. He shakes your hand like that side to side for a bit, then drops it back down onto the bed. A strand of hair falls into his face as he leans back, and you brush it back, caressing over his bruised cheekbone gingerly. 

“When was the last time you slept?” he asks suddenly.

“Hmm.” You look at the timestamp on the muted TV in the corner, currently playing some movie or other. It’s only then that you realise you’ve been intermittently awake for almost two full days now. “Can’t really remember,” you lie.

“You need to rest. You look exhausted,” he remarks, gesturing to himself. “I’m taken care of.”

“No, I’m not leaving you,” you say, putting as much finality into your voice as you can in your state.

He says your name softly. You look away. He sighs.

“Well, if you insist on staying, then at least I can get pampered a bit, yeah?” he starts, and you narrow your eyes at him in feigned suspicion. He asks with a playful pout, “You know what would make me feel better?”

“Hmm?” 

Joaquín turns his head, offering you his cheek. You can’t help but laugh. 

“I thought you were high on painkillers already?”

“Even the best medicine holds nothing against your kisses.”

“Pfft, is that so.” Now it’s your heart’s turn to speed up. You two have been together for a while now, but he still makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and gives you butterflies in your stomach, when he isn’t on the brink of death, at least. “Well, in that case, I better get started on your dose.”

You lean forward, placing a kiss on his cheek, and he hums pleasedly. He doesn’t move, though, clearly waiting for more. You’re more than happy to oblige, placing kiss after kiss on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, being especially careful around his injuries. Finally, you hold his chin to turn his face towards you, and kiss the corner of his mouth, then his lips. It's chaste but sweet, and he smiles into it. When you lean back, his eyes are filled with love, slightly unfocused because of the meds, a goofy grin on his face. As you hold his face, you consider saying something cheesy, hoping he won’t remember it. But before you can speak, there’s a knock at the door, and someone steps in. It’s Sam. He looks surprised to see you.  

“Damn, you’re still here?” he asks with concern, then turns to Joaquín. “How’re you feeling?”

“Splendid, really,” he replies, leaning into your hand still cupping his face.

“He got a decent shot of painkillers,” you explain, looking up at Sam with a tired smile. “He’s high as a kite.”

Sam chuckles, then looks at you worriedly. 

“You need to rest. Both of you.” He places a hand on your shoulder. “Go home, I’ll take it from here.”

You hesitate, looking between the two, and Joaquín nods, his eyes pleading for you to also take care of yourself. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Joaquín says, taking your hand from his face and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here when you come back.”

“Right,” you sigh and rise to your feet with wobbly legs now that the exhaustion is finally kicking in full force, and Sam holds you up when your knees threaten to give in. 

“Whoa there. You need a nap, ASAP.” 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” you say with a sigh, steadying yourself as he lets you go, his hands still hovering over your arms for a moment in case he has to grab you again, but you manage to stand straight. You grab your jacket from the back of the chair, and turn to Joaquín. “I’ll come back this evening, okay? I’ll bring your favourite snacks too. Don’t tell the nurse, though.” You wink at him with a knowing smile.

“You’re the best.”

“No, you are.” You lean over him to kiss him goodbye, whispering ‘I love you’ against his lips, and pecking him once more for good measure. The machine’s beeps speed up again.

“Love you too. See you later.” Joaquín brings his hand up to caress over your cheek one last time, then you leave the room.

Sam is still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking down at his friend as the beeps slowly start decreasing back to normal.

“Very cute,” he remarks, unable to bite back a teasing smile. 

“Don’t even,” Joaquín says and rolls his eyes playfully, knowing perfectly well that Sam will never let him live that down.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!]

[annab-recs]

POOKIE I MISS YOU

HI ANGEL!!! 🥰

[annab-recs]

hi! saw requests were open so just HAD to ask for a peter fic. preferably mcu!peter where avenger!reader gets hurt from a mission and peter gets so upset abt it. maybe add angst between reader and peter ???? fluffy end pls :')

summary: After you get injured on a mission your best friend comes to visit you in the infirmary, you start to realize that your feelings towards him might be more than friendly.

pairings: peter parker/reader

warnings: mentions of injuries and blood (not graphic), friends to lovers, a bit of angst, fluff at the end, no use of y/n

word count: 0.8k

a/n: this is such a good prompt. i haven't written any actual fics in like a year so this was fun to do. i just love peter so much. (also i'm so sorry this took so long)

You open your eyes, the fluorescent overhead light burns your eyes. You attempt to sit up but you can feel a sharp pain in your chest. Tears begin to form in your eyes, the pain is nauseating. You try to piece together how you got here. You remember the mission, you remember the dagger that was lodged in your chest what felt like inches away from your heart. You remember blood everywhere. And you remember hearing Peter's screams before everything went dark.

You thought that you were dying. It still feels like you're dying. You look around the room you're in. Your view isn't very good but you recognize the room as the infirmary in Avengers Compound. You try and fail to sit up again. The door slips open. Peter walks over to your bed.

"Thank god you're awake." His voice is shaky and his eyes are red rimmed. He takes a seat in the chair at your bed side. When you joined the Avengers, Peter was the one to show you around and help you adjust to everything. Peter has been your closest friend ever since.

"I thought that you were going to die. I was terrified. I would have stayed and waited here but Mr. Stark made me clean up and change before I could come back." Peter's eyes begin to water. It hurts to see him like this.

"It's okay, Peter. I'm okay. It's going to be alright." You try to reach out to him but the small movement causes another surge of pain. You wince, Peter puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"Don't move. I know you want to but it's just going to hurt more if you do." Peter is clearly trying to steady his voice and put on a brave face for you but it isn't working.

He updates you on everything that's happened in the two days that you were unconscious, including what happened after you blacked out. Just talking to you seems to calm him down. It calms you down too. You can see just how much he cares.

"Are you okay, Peter?" You finally ask. Peter seems different than he normally is, he's just off in a way that you can't explain. His expression changes at your question, as if he's trying to hide whatever raised your concern in the first place.

"I'm fine. I just..." He trails off. His expression becomes wistful, then reluctant, then it snaps back to normal. "I just missed you. You're my best friend. I love the other Avengers but it's different without you." Your heart flutters when you hear these words.

"I should have done more to keep you safe. Mr. Stark told me to watch over you, I'm supposed to protect you but I didn't. This is all my fault." He adds. You see the desperation and guilt in his eyes. In this moment, you can only see Peter. The boy who puts too much pressure on himself because he cares about everyone and everything around him. The feeling you've been suppressing are beginning to surface. There's a deep level of devotion you feel towards each other. You would do anything for him and he would do anything for you.

"Peter, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault." Tears begin to roll down Peter's cheeks. You feel yourself begin to tear up as well. Looking at him now makes you feel something that you've never felt before. You realize that you want to be there with him through everything, maybe not just as a best friend. Peter looks back at you, his eyes are glassy. There's something so endearing about him. You fight the urge to look away. You try to push the thoughts out of your mind, now is definitely not the time. Peter immediately senses that something is wrong.

"What's wrong?" He looks concerned again. "I can get you whatever you need to feel better." He grabs your hand and begins to brush your hand with his thumb. Peter looks into your eyes, he seems to have calmed down a bit after your reassurances. Peter glances down at your lips briefly, before bringing his gaze back up to your eyes. Your breath catches as he leans a bit closer to you.

"I was so worried that I would never get to see you again. All I could think about were all the things I never got to tell you." Peter leans in even closer.

"Can I?" He whispers. His mouth is centimeters away from yours. Peter looks more shy and nervous as he waits for your answer. But you don't hesitate.

"Yes." The word comes out lightly. The world seems to stop as his lips meet yours. Everything that's happened seems to wash away as the kiss clouds your mind. Eventually, Peter pulls back. His cheeks are slightly pink and he looks a little embarrassed. All you do is pull him back in.

taglist: @doyouknowwhoyouare13, @shefollowedthestars, @diorgirl444

[annab-recs]

AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely

Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love

ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do. 

He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding. 

You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault. 

The “because you’re here” is typically implied. 

Not so much now.

You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.

“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”

Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.

You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.

Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion. 

For the first time ever, you’re not helping.

“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”

“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.

Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”

“…What?” you squeak.

Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though. 

“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.

You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”

He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.

“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”

Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.

You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest. 

The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.

But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.

“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.

Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy. 

“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”

There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy. 

He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.

After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”

You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it. 

He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”

He leaves little room for argument.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.

—————

Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store. 

Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.

Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.

“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.

The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence. 

Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”

“What do you mean she’s upset?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”

Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”

“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”

Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”

“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane. 

He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.

He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.

“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.

Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”

Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”

He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.

He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.

His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”

Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”

“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”

“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”

You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.

Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.

With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”

You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are. 

You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?

“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”

“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had. 

He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.

He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t. 

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”

“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”

Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself. 

“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.

He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”

“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness. 

You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”

“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile. 

You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see. 

“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.

“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”

Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”

“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.

Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”

You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.

“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.

You look at him with it, anyway. 

Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey. 

Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently. 

His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.

“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.

“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”

“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!”

“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”

[annab-recs]

late.

synopsis: your boyfriend’s superhero antics give you a fright, and it’s up to him to reassure you of his well-being when he returns home from the fight. 

author’s note: i’ll admit, this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time… likely since no way home came out! but i’ve been trying to get back into the swing of writing, and i figured it was a good idea to start with finishing up some works in progress before diving into anything new. so here’s some peter angst and fluff, just like the good ol’ days. enjoy!! 

wordcount: 1,613 

18. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 25. “What the hell were you thinking?!” 48. “Why are you crying?”

Peter Parker x Reader

      The window to the bedroom slides open, a figure in blue and red quietly stepping through the frame and carefully sliding the window shut behind him, all the while listening intently for any signs of life in the apartment beyond. Satisfied that he hasn’t woken his aunt, Peter turns around only to be startled by a figure sat in the darkness of the room, criss-cross on his bed. 

      “Shit.” He curses, huffing out a laugh when he realizes it’s only you. “It’s late,” Peter starts, tugging his mask off and tossing it onto his desk as he turns towards his closet to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

Keep reading

[annab-recs]

Hi there! Can I request something where MCU!Peter and the reader find out their baby has powers like Peter when the baby starts crawling, Peter is giddy and all but the reader is freaking out because now she has to take care of two spiders.

i really didn’t know what to name her 😭

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader.

masterlist

“okay, don’t freak out.” your husband put his hands up in front of his chest as he entered the bedroom.

“...what did you do?”

“oh, not me. annie.”

you put down your book finally and got out of bed, “okay. what’s happening?”

“she... you better see this.” peter wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled you along, “she started crawling.”

“peter, she started that weeks ago...” you looked at your husband in confusion. when you reached the room, you found it empty. peter let you go around, looking every corner of the room. you checked under the little crib and the box of toys, even the cupboards and the drawers– she was peter’s daughter and anything was possible.

peter just stood there with pursed lips and you looked at him, your brows pulled together, “um... don’t look up.”

you looked up and there your baby was, crawling around the ceiling like gravity was nothing to her. you gasped, “peter, what the-”

“i know, i know!” he held your hands, “i know it’s scary, babe. but look at her go.” peter smiled proudly as her daughter’s soft brown hair stuck up in all directions.

“i can’t even hear you! peter, get my baby down from the ceiling!” you sighed, tension rising up within your body as you stared at her too, “what if she falls down?”

“she wouldn’t i was right here!” peter claimed. you gave him a look and his smile turned nervous, “e-except for when i was not... sorry.”

you sighed, “you need to get her.”

“she looks like she’s having fun.” peter pointed out and you looked at the little girl crawling around in circles until she reached the fan, making your eyes widen further.

“peter!”

peter sensed your panic and quickly jumped up, clinging to the ceiling with one hand while he grabbed anne in his arms. she immediately went over his shoulder and tried to crawl back to the ceiling. all you could do was watch the scene unfold, your arms crossed over your chest.

“come here.” peter grabbed the little baby and hopped back onto the floor. you sighed in relief when she was back in your arms.

“hey, sweetie.” you cooed as you hugged her to your chest, “don’t do that... your father is scary enough like that.” you brushed her soft, chestnut hair back.

“hey-” peter protested but stopped when he looked at your worried expression, “hey...” he said again, softer. your husband walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you carefully, “it’s okay.”

“annie...”

“she’s gonna be fine. you think i’d let something happen to her?” peter placed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

you sighed, “i know. that’s why i’m worried about both of you.”

“you better be worried about your hair, babe.” peter mumbleb, again making you look at him in confusion. peter pointed to the way anne’s little fist was around a lock of your hair.

“oh, crap-”