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ballorawan740 · 5 hours ago

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Sexo Virtual (Miss American - Joaquin Torres)

President's Daughter AU Series | Joaquin Torres x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI, 18+ only, mention of period symptoms (vomiting, nausea, cramps), fluff, yearning and long distance relationship. Word Count: 2.9K Song: Sexo Virtual by Rauw Alejandro A/N: Finally updated Miss Americana! This has been sitting in my drafts for a week now. Reblog, let me know what you think and ENJOY! Masterlist | Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | _

Chief of Shade Podcast DM from Anon says: Any updates on the first daughter? They just announced she's going to be a speaker in one of the biggest tech conventions early next year. Is this her starting her father's re-election campaign? Congrats to Miss Americana for nailing a gig like that! Though, I don't believe this is part of a re-election campaign. But I do have an update on what's going on with her dating life. My sources allegedly say she was seen having a private dinner date at "Emerald" a few months ago. Is the president's daughter dating or was this a casual friend dinner? -

FACETIME CALL May 3rd Duration: 3:42:16 Connected – 6:08 PM EST

“Why are you cubing your chicken so small?” Joaquin scrunches his nose, his face closer on my phone screen as he watches me cube my chicken through his.

“Because I need every piece to be equally small and slightly overcooked so I don’t gag at the thought of eating chicken,” I say, trying to keep my eyes on the cutting board and not on my shirtless more-than-a-friend guy as he rocks his ribbed body for me through the small screen. His sweatpants hang low, his curly hair a little damp from the shower he took before we jumped on the call.

It’s unfair to have him like this, miles away from me.

“What?” he asks, still confused. I watch him toss the whole chicken breast into his pan, and the sound of searing fills the room. He readjusts his phone, setting me behind his kitchen sink. I forget about my knife and rest it on the edge of the board, my eyes following the flex of his biceps as he rinses his dishes.

“If I’m cooking chicken, I need to have it in little pieces because the thought of it being even slightly undercooked I will not eat it,” I try to explain, tossing the tiny pieces into the hot pan. I can barely hear him laughing through my AirPods—the searing from his pan almost mutes him. “Hey, don’t laugh at me. And turn down the heat, you’re going to burn your butter.”

“Yes, chef,” he chuckles, actually turning off the stove. “If our cooking date over FaceTime has you this bossy, I don’t want to imagine our actual cooking date when we see each other.”

“As long as you cube my chicken into small pieces, we’ll be fine.”

“Oh, baby. I’ll cube your chicken however you want if it means I get to see you like this every time,” he says, a low growl. I blush, my hand flying up unconsciously to fix the skinny strap of my crop top.

Did I throw on the tiniest top and shorts on purpose? Yeah. Am I still blushing like a schoolgirl when he notices? Of course.

I let the chicken sizzle on medium heat and turn off the burner under the pot of pasta. “As long as you bring those low-rise sweatpants, we have a deal.” I wink at him, purposely not adjusting the phone’s angle. I walk out of view with the pan of cooked pasta toward the sink behind me.

I look over my shoulder as I drain the pasta water, catching Joaquin’s eyes practically falling out as he gets a full view of my ass. My tiny shorts barely cover my cheeks.

“Fuck,” I hear him mutter under his breath, and I laugh.

God, I love our FaceTime dinner dates—but I’d rather have him here.

FACETIME CALL May 27th Duration: 00:08:34 Connected – 1:45 PM EST

The familiar FaceTime tone rings through my AirPods, letting me know our call has connected.

“Babe, are you still working on that proposal?” Joaquin asks, resting me somewhere on his desk while sitting down in his office chair.

He was coming back from his lunch break—something I didn’t fully take on my part.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “We start pitching this new, amazing tech to our investors in a few days, and I just want it to be perfect.”

“Did you finish your lunch?” Joaquin eyes me, raising a brow. I glance at my half-eaten Caesar wrap salad in its to-go container, long forgotten on the other side of my desk. I don’t even have to answer—he already knows I completely skipped my lunch break.

“You have to eat something. You can't rely just on your coffee to get through the workload.”

“I also have my water,” I try to be cute, showing him the light pink water jug on camera. He tries to be serious for a second, but he breaks easily, his bright smile tugging at my heart.

“But I’m definitely planning on ordering a huge dinner once I get back home.”

“Good girl,” he smirks, typing away on his keyboard. “What are you ordering?”

“Remember the tacos you brought me last month? I’ve been craving them this whole week. Oh! And the ice cream with fresh churros and the Nutella dip.”

My stomach growls just at the thought of dinner.

Joaquin’s moan fills my ear, and I bring my knees together, forcing them shut as I try to act like that didn’t affect me.

“Those were so good. Now I’m hungry again.”

“Me too,” I laugh, trying to hide how turned on I am.

“I have to call you back—Sam’s calling me.” He leans over his desk, grabbing the phone from where he had it.

“Don’t worry, duty calls.” I smile, blowing him a kiss before the call disconnects.

FACETIME CALL June 9th Duration: 01:10:23 Connected – 10:32 PM EST

I grab the beautiful bouquet of white and pink lilies from my bedside table and place them on my lap carefully. I hold my phone high, trying to get the flowers and my body into frame.

Joaquin had sent me the bouquet congratulating me on a successful pitch, and I just wanted to send him something back—even if he’s overseas on a mission. The time difference has been hell. We haven’t had a real FaceTime call in days, just some short texts here and there.

I open my messages and the app opens on Joaquin’s text thread already. I attach the photo I just took and check it before hitting send, making sure it actually looks good.

You can barely see the white, tiny lace bralette and matching bottoms—the bouquet covering most of my body—but it’s enough to tease him before he starts the day.

iMessage 10:56AM Joaquin: Finally have service 10:58AM Joaquin: I can try and call you before you go to bed. I miss you 11:01AM Me: I miss you too 11:03AM Me: I’ll text you when I get out of the shower Be safe 10:31PM Me: *Attached Picture* Thank you for the flowers

I place the bouquet back on the nightstand and jump into bed, waiting to see if he replies. Not even a minute later, my phone starts ringing. I smile, my head sinking into my pillow as I answer.

His face pops up immediately—bare chest in frame, a light glow coming from his bedside table. His hair is messy and his dog tags stick to his skin. Ever since I saw them for the first time, the idea of pulling him down to kiss me by the metal chain haunts me day and night when we talk or when he sends photos.

“Hi baby,”

“You’re going to drive me insane,” He groans, setting his phone on the nightstand. I stare at his naked torso, the rest of his lower body hidden under his bedding. I don’t even try to hide that I’m staring, I let my eyes trail along his body.

“I just wanted to thank you for the flowers.” I say innocently, resting my back against the headboard. I position my phone at the perfect angle, chest in frame just a little to tease. “You didn’t like the photo?”

“Fuck, no. It’s my new favorite photo.” He reassures me, voice low. “Jesus, the things I would do to you if I was there.” He runs a hand down his face, groaning.

“Tell me,” I breathe, my body already reacting. “If you were here, how would you touch me?”

I test the waters, something we’ve been doing back and forth, but in person, we haven’t gone further than makeouts, touching and grinding. But, this is something new. This is untouched territory in our relationship.

“Shit, baby” Joaquin shifts, the hand on his chest disappearing out of frame. “Since you love being a tease, I’d start slow.”

I place my phone on the nightstand, resting it against the flower vase.

“I’d pin you down to that bed, kissing every inch of your neck while my hands cup your breast.” Joaquin’s eyes follow my movements. I copy his instructions, guiding my fingers from my neck to my breast. “And with my teeth, I’d slide that thin lace off your nipples and then swirl my tongue over them.”

I free my breast and cup it with my palm, imagining his mouth in place of my fingers. “Joaquin.” I breathe, pinching my nipple just enough to send my hips jolting up from the contact.

I watch him spit into his palm, his phone at a perfect angle to show me everything. He slides his sweats down, freeing his straining cock, leaving me gawking at his size.

I’ve felt it pressed against me before, but seeing it now? I press my thighs together instinctively.

“No, open those legs for me.” He demands, letting his cock slap against his stomach.

“Still with me?” He asks and I nod, forcing my legs apart.

“I’d slip my fingers down, pull the lace aside, and circle your clit” he continues.

The softest exhale escapes me as I follow his instructions, middle finger grazing and circling, my fingers soaked with my arousal.

“Hey—slow,” he warns. “You follow my orders, or I’ll stop.”

I whine, but nod. “Please,” I beg.

“The way I’d already be lost between your legs,” Joaquin went on. “Kissing your thighs, fingers coated in how wet you are. So wet, I could slide two fingers in and let you suck me deep.”

My eyes flutter shut as I slide two fingers in, the sound of his commanding voice nearly enough to send me over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m so wet, baby.”

Joaquin groans, his jaw tightening. “Don’t rush it. Let yourself feel it—curl those fingers, baby. Tell me what you feel.”

“Fuck,” I whimper. “It feels so good—I need more.”

“What do you need?” He says through gritted teeth.

“You. I need your hands holding me open, your cock filling me up. I’d let you take me any way you want.”

“I need your eyes on me,” he adds, breathless. “I need you to see what you do to me, even miles away.”

I force my eyes open and moan at the sight of him. His hand around his cock, biceps and shoulders flexing, dog tags stuck to his skin and glimmering under the light—nearly makes me cum on the spot.

“Fuck, I bet you’d ride my fingers so good.” Joaquin pants. “I can’t wait to taste you. Make you cum with my tongue, fingers and cock until I have your legs shaking.”

I bite my lip, and force myself to choke down my cry as I rock my fingers faster. My other hand reaches for my clit, circling the little nub.

“You sound so pretty like this,” he groans. “Desperate to cum. Aching for my cock to stretch you out.”

I spread wider, pressing deeper, harder—nearly knuckles deep— as my back arches into the pillows.

“Joaquin, I’m close.” My thighs tremble, heat spreads through my body. I squirm, desperate as my hips try to meet with my own thrust.

“I need you,” I gasp. “I need your hands, your mouth—fuck, I need your cock, Joaquin.”

“Fuck, say my name again,” he pants.

“Joaquin. Joaquin—” My voice breaks as I tremble, trying to keep my legs spread. Tears burning the corner of my eyes.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let go for me.”

And I do.

The white-hot wave crashes through me, and I cry out, letting it take over me. “Fuck, fuck.” I keep my eyes on him as his fist tightens around his cock. I whimper, feeling my walls flutter around my fingers.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he groans, breath catching. “So fucking good.”

I watch the twitch of his muscles, his mouth falling open as he spills over, gasping my name, eyes on me.

We stay quiet for a moment, just breathing but never looking away. Not even for a second.

“Are you okay?” he asks, still a little breathless.

I nod. What are words? Cause I don’t know any at the moment.

Shit, that was hot.

“I need to hear you baby, I can’t go on with my day without hearing you say it.”

“Fuck,” I rasp, smiling sleepily. “I’m more than okay.” I rest my hand on my chest, my breath calming down.

He laughs softly, leaning forward to grab his phone. “I miss you. I’m counting down the days until I’m done here.”

“I miss you too,” I sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How much longer are we going to be this far apart?”

“Not much, I promise.” Joaquin gets up from his small bed, dog tags clicking as he moves around the small room. I watch him slide a pair of boxers, then his cargo pants.

I walk to the bathroom, resting my phone on the vanity. “Did you get some sleep at least?”

“Not much. It’s hot and the bed is uncomfortable. My shoulders ache from training and from the bed.” Joaquin rubs his shoulder, trying to get rid of the tension bothering him.

“I’m so–”

“Torres.” A loud bang cuts me off from Joaquin’s side of the line. “We need you out here. Now.”

“I’m coming!” He yells back, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll call you later, get some rest, baby.” He rushes, slipping his boots.

“It’s okay, stay safe.” I managed to say, right before the call disconnected.

FACETIME CALL June 22 Duration: 05:33:45 Connected – 06:04 AM EST

The bathroom tiles feel cold against my hot sweaty skin as I sit in front of the toilet. I’ve been awake since four in the morning—puking, dizzy and struggling with awful period cramps.

I lean my back on the wall, closing my eyes while I try to steady my breathing and push down the nausea. My phone vibrates next to me, Joaquin’s contact picture lighting up the screen. My fingers hover over the phone. Do I really want him to see me like this?

But we haven’t talked in days, he’s been having a hard time with the wifi at the base he’s currently at.

Just as I slide my finger to answer, the awful wave of nausea creeps up from my stomach. I hurl into the toilet, gripping the bowl, leaving my phone unattended.

“Why am I looking at your ceilin—baby, are you sick? What’s going on?” I hear his worried voice through the speaker, but I can’t respond. Not when my gut is twisting inside me as I try to breathe through it.

I wipe my mouth with a towel, then grab the phone off the floor and settle back into my spot.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Do I need to call someone? What’s wrong?” Joaquin’s face is pinched with concern. He looks like he’s ready to jump through the screen. He looks too cute when his worried forehead lines show up.

“I already told Carmen I’m not going into work today,” I say, my voice rough. “Just a bad period episode, that’s all.” I push the sweaty strands of hair from my face, trying to summon the strength to crawl back to bed.

“Does this usually happen?”

“No,” I admit. “But I think it’s the IUD I got earlier this week.”

I’d had the appointment, something I’d been meaning to do since our last FaceTime—but I hadn’t mentioned that it was for an IUD.

“You didn’t tell me you were getting it. I mean, you don’t have to, it’s totally your choice—but are the side effects supposed to be this bad?”

I chuckle as I listen to him ramble over the phone.

“I didn’t tell you because I did it just in case,” I shared. “Especially after our last few FaceTime calls.”

Joaquin blushes, cheeks and even the tips of his ears turn a cute shade of red. He scratches the back of his neck, but he doesn’t look away.

“I’m going to bed,” I sigh. “I already called off work.”

I stand up slowly, my hand braced against the wall for support. The nausea has passed, but my head still feels heavy, and the dizziness lingers.

“I hate not being able to be there,” he murmurs, his voice gentle. “I’d rub your back, grab the heating pad, feed you comfort food, run you a hot bath—whatever would help.”

“Hearing your voice helps.”

I lie down in bed, grabbing the heating pad and pulling the bed sheets over my body. I rest the phone on the nightstand, finally looking at him better.

Joaquin is in bed, shirtless, wearing only his cargo pants. He looks handsome, even with his messy hair, his tired eyes and the small constellation of moles on his face.

“You should go to sleep, handsome.” I yawn, rubbing my eyes.

“I don’t have to hang up. We can sleep together, baby—fall asleep together.” He yawns too, his free hand resting on his chest.

“I miss you so much.” I mumble, sleep already pulling me under.

“Descansa, mi amor. Te extraño mucho más.”

It’s the last thing I hear, his soft voice echoing through the phone, before darkness takes over.

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ballorawan740 · 5 hours ago

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OOOOOH AN IDEA BASED ON YOUR SECRET LOVERS FIC

How about Joaquin Torres x Reader where shes with Bucky's side (not rly but for the plot cuz shes an assassin) because they initially thought that it'll be better for Bucky to "monitor" her since she was a newly trained young assassin or perhaps they have a feud saying its probably better for her to be under Sam's care and her and Joaquin just be getting along while Sam and Bucky are bickering like old married couple

Not So Star Crossed Lovers ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You and Joaquín date despite your mentors fighting over who gets to keep you

tw: fem!reader, Joaquín and reader are both down bad for each other, none?, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi!! I loved this idea!!

➽──────────────❥

It wasn't always that a young assassin was sent to James Buchanan Barnes, really it was never. But when Bucky was told you were a young assassin, he decided that he could take you in. But there was a problem, Sam Wilson firmly believed that you would do better with him. That being around that many antiheroes wouldn't give you the same chance at being what you wanted that you would have with Sam in DC.

Many phone calls between Bucky and Sam happened, at some point between the phone calls, you got Joaquín Torres' number. Bucky would find you giggling and kicking your feet while you laid on your stomach talking to Joaquín over the phone. You would light up when your phone went off only to deflate a little if it wasn't Joaquín.

At some point, you and Joaquín ended up dating. Even if you've only ever seen each other in person the few times Sam would visit New York to argue with Bucky in person. But now you were sitting in a car with Bucky next to you headed to Sam's headquarters. You were practically bouncing in your seat from excitement, and Bucky just shook his head.

You were sitting next to Joaquín, the desk chair that was given to you as close to Joaquín's as you could get it. You two were talking, laughing, and sharing kisses as Sam and Bucky fought a few feet away. Joaquín showed you footage of him fighting alongside Sam and you would smile and enthusiastically tell him that he looked so cool. "I bet you look even better when you fight, hermosa," Joaquín flirted, smiling as you got shy at the nickname.

"Probably not, I don't have cool wings like you do," you said, trying to get even closer to Joaquín.

"Just sit in his lap at this point!" Sam called over as he caught you trying to get closer, you shyly laughed but Joaquín pulled you into his lap anyway. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kept talking, laughing at his stupid jokes and kissing him when you felt like it.

"I guess she can stay with you two," Bucky relented after watching you two. "I still think she'll learn more with us, but I don't think she'll be better without him," Bucky added on, a soft smile on his face as he watched you be yourself without shame.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

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ballorawan740 · 5 hours ago

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Hey

I really like your fanfics! ☺️

Could you write a Joaquin Torres fanfic were reader doesn't like the petname that he gives her. Maybe it's a petname that her ex boyfriend said to her and that's why reader doesn't like it.

Take your time!

Thank you in advance. 🥰

Petnames ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You loved every petname Joaquín gave you, except one

tw: fem!reader, Joaquín being the sweetest, alludes to a shitty ex, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi!! I'm glad you like my fanfics!!

➽──────────────❥

You loved Joaquín and his constant stream of nicknames, you loved that they could be sweet or silly. Yet you couldn't handle the new one, you tried at first to ignore it but it still rubbed you the wrong way. You were home late and Joaquín was already finishing dinner. You had been running some errands and had lost track of time.

"Joaquín?" You softly called his attention when you saw him set the steaks to rest.

"Yes, hermosa?" Joaquín looked over his shoulder at you. hermosa = beautiful

"Can I tell you something without you getting mad?"

"I can never be mad at you," he said it so fast yet so assured that it calmed your racing heart.

"The other day you called me sweetie," you started talking, messing with a loose string on your shorts. "And I love that you call me all sorts of petnames, they make me feel all light and fluttery. But sweetie is the only thing my ex would call me and he wasn't the best. It's just the only petname I can't handle," your voice lost it's confidence as you spoke.

"Miel, you could have told me as soon as I said it," Joaquín said, pulling you into a hug. "I wouldn't have said it twice, I wouldn't have even said it once if you had told me beforehand," Joaquín added on and you smiled.

"I love you," you whispered, tightening your hold on him.

"I love you more," Joaquín answered, kissing your head.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

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ballorawan740 · 5 hours ago

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Hiiii

Can you do a fic for Joaquin Torres x Reader where the reader is hurt/injured/didnt sleep and all and doesnt tell anyone and tries to heal herself (doesnt have to be mission related)

And when (or OTW) they're backseat just collapses

Passing Break ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You over work yourself until your body forces you to take a break

tw: fem!reader, reader passes out from dehydration and overexertion, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi!! I'm sorry for this being so short!! I just thought it being short and sweet would be better for this topic.

➽──────────────❥

You were just tired, that's what you told yourself. Sure, you were headed to a fight but you would be fine. And you were, you fought like you were ok, because you were, but when you got back, your body gave in. You collapsed into Joaquín's arms and caused him to freak out.

You woke up in a hospital, Joaquín by your side. "What happened?" You questioned your boyfriend.

"You passed out, dehydration and overexertion," Joaquín explained and you gave him a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry," you told him, feeling guilty.

"Hey, I'm not mad. You just scared me," he reassured you. "Just promise to tell at least me if it gets too much again, ok?"

"I will, I promise," you told him, accepting the kiss he was offering.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

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ballorawan740 · 7 hours ago

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I know I’ve been giving a lot of requests- but recently, your the only writer who seem to answer my requests so thank you (also I love your writing so much, it’s not even funny). But I really hope if you could do husband!joaquin with swimmer!reader? You can free write it but here’s some ideas just in case:

Swimmer!Reader winning a gold medal at some competitions

OR/AND

Joaquin cheering very loudly while watching from the plane after a mission and Sam being very confused and Joaquin hogging the screen

thank you in advance, hugs and kisses, Adria

Cheering From The Sky ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Even when Joaquín wasn't there, he always supported you

tw: fem!reader, swimmer!reader, husband!Joaquín,

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Adria, this is for the second idea you had for this. I hope you like it!!

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín always wanted to be with you for your meets, he knew it made you feel safer. But he was called into a last minute mission that lasted longer than he thought it would, so he was stuck watching your meet on his plane ride home. Sam was just trying to calm down after the mission, but Joaquín kept cheering.

"Joaquín, man, what is going on?" Sam had to ask, rubbing a hand down his face.

"I'm watching my girl's swim competition," Joaquín said, sitting on the edge of his seat while watching you swim your last lap. "That's my girl!" Joaquín shouted as you finished first, you smiled at the camera when you got out of the pool. You gave a small wave, the same one you sent to the camera every time Joaquín couldn't make it to your competition. Joaquín cheered extra loud when you got the gold again, mentally planning on how he's going to show you just how proud of you he is when he gets home.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

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ballorawan740 · 7 hours ago

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ok ok but established relationship joaquin x stark!reader who’s got a sassy little attitude and whenever she’s in a mood (which is often) joaquin always messes with her in a cute and flirty way and sam is always scared like “she’s gonna kill you man”

imagine the little “stooopppp quino”

grumpy x sunshine core i love them

Birds Of A Feather

summary: just a glimpse into the very lovey and chaotic relationship of y/n and joaquin!

pairings: Stark!reader x joaquin torres

warnings: mentions of death sprinkled here and there but nothing serious! y/n constantly threatening joaquin LOL, f!reader, i think that's it!

word count: 3.1k

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Joaquin Torres loves his girlfriend. He’d do anything for her—no hesitation, no questions asked, no matter how dramatic or unreasonable. He’s obsessed. Helpless. Completely whipped.

But with that love comes the deep, primal urge to annoy her to the ends of the world and back.

And lucky for him?

Y/N Stark makes it so, so easy.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/N slid into the passenger seat of Joaquin’s truck with a huff, slamming the door shut and buckling her seatbelt without so much as a glance in his direction.

Joaquin paused, glancing over at her with an amused lift of his brow. “Hello to you too, sunshine.”

He reached over and poked her arm gently, trying to coax even the tiniest smile out of her.

Y/N didn’t move. Just side eyed him and mumbled, “Whatever. Hi.”

Joaquin bit back a grin. Yep. She was in a mood. He’d seen that look before—usually when someone at work had pissed her off, or her tech wasn’t cooperating, or someone had the audacity to ask her a stupid question in the elevator.

Tonight, apparently, he was the one in the line of fire. Unlucky him. Or lucky, depending on how much he wanted to test her.

“You had one of those days, huh?” he asked lightly, starting the engine.

She didn’t answer. Just crossed her arms and turned to face the window with a sigh.

Joaquin glanced over, still smiling. “Aww, come on. Give me some sugar, sugar.”

He leaned over to kiss her, one arm snaking toward her shoulder to pull her in.

Y/N jerked away instantly, twisting her body toward the door like she was about to open it and jump out mid drive. “I’m so overstimulated right now, get away from me, Joaquin Torres.”

He blinked, hand still suspended mid air. “Damn. Full name and everything.”

“Do not touch me. I mean it. If one more person tries to breathe in my direction, I’m gonna explode.”

He bit his lip to hide a laugh. “Okay, okay. Hands to myself. Got it.” He settled back into his seat, throwing her a sideways glance. “But just for the record, you’re still really hot when you’re grumpy.”

She sighed again, dramatic and sharp. “I know. It’s exhausting.”

Joaquin chuckled, putting the car into gear and pulling out of the driveway. “Want me to cancel the dinner res and just drive around until you’re slightly less homicidal?”

Y/N tilted her head, considering it. “Maybe. Only if you promise to shut up for five minutes.”

“Deal. But I reserve the right to poke you again when I feel like it.”

“Try it and I’ll bite your finger off.”

He grinned wide. “You flirt so weird.”

Y/N turned slowly to look at him, unimpressed. “You are so lucky you’re cute, Quino.”

He beamed. “You say that like it’s not my entire strategy.”

They’d been driving for ten minutes now, music low, windows cracked just enough to let the evening breeze in. Y/N hadn’t said much, but the tension in her shoulders was slowly easing. Her head leaned against the window, eyes closed, fingers tapping gently against her thigh to the beat of whatever lo-fi playlist Joaquin had put on as a peace offering.

Joaquin glanced over at her at the next red light, content to let her decompress.

Which is exactly when she spoke.

“Wow,” she muttered, voice thick with fake betrayal. “You’re not even gonna hold my hand?”

He blinked. “What?”

She turned to him slowly, eyes narrowed in mock offense. “Did you stop loving me or something?”

Joaquin snorted. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to touch you, you cannibalist.”

“That was ten minutes ago,” she said, wiggling her fingers toward him like bait. “Things have changed. Keep up, Torres.”

“You’re actually insane.”

“And yet, you’re obsessed with me.”

He rolled his eyes but reached across the console anyway, threading their fingers together. She immediately curled into it, squeezing his hand like it was the only thing tethering her to the planet.

He gave her a sideways glance. “So dramatic.”

“Mm. You like it.”

He kissed the back of her hand at the next red light, then refused to let go for the rest of the drive.

They got back to Joaquin’s place a little later, and by then Y/N’s bad mood had mostly fizzled out, leaving her comfortably tired and… just a little clingy. She kicked off her shoes by the front door and flopped face down onto the couch like she was done existing.

Joaquin laughed as he locked the door behind them. “You okay?”

“No,” came the muffled reply from the cushions. “I want chocolate and a heating pad and maybe to be held like a small, misunderstood Victorian orphan.”

He grinned. “So… a regular night in.”

She lifted one hand and flipped him off without lifting her head.

He crouched down and gently brushed her hair from her face. “You’re gonna knock out here like this?”

“Maybe,” she mumbled. “Couch has less betrayal than the world.”

He smiled, leaned in, and without another word, slid one arm under her legs and the other around her back — lifting her in one smooth, practiced motion.

Y/N blinked, startled. “What are you—?”

“Carrying you to bed, princess-style,” he said matter of factly, already heading down the hall. “Can’t let my misunderstood Victorian orphan sleep in the drawing room.”

She buried her face in his neck with a dramatic sigh. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “here you are. In my arms. As foretold.”

“You’re lucky I’m weak.”

“You’re lucky I’m strong.”

She smiled against his skin. “Shut up and tuck me in.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He returned a few minutes later with a heating pad, and a bar of chocolate he had absolutely bought just in case. He laid everything out beside her, then sat next to her and gently coaxed her to roll onto him.

She crawled into his lap like a sleepy cat, settling against his chest with a little sigh as he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

“See?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “All bark, no bite.”

“I bit you last week,” she mumbled.

“And it was hot.”

She snorted against his chest, letting him stroke her hair as she started to melt into the warmth and quiet.

“…Thanks, Quino,” she said softly after a beat.

He smiled against her forehead. “Always, mi amor.”

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It started innocently. It always started innocently.

They were supposed to be cleaning the kitchen. Keyword: supposed to. Y/N was wiping down the counter. Joaquin was in charge of dishes. Everything was fine. Peaceful, even.

Until he started singing.

Off-key.

Loudly.

And with zero knowledge of the actual lyrics.

“You. Belong. With me—YEAH! You BELONG with meeeeeee,” he howled, doing a little spin with a dirty plate in hand like it was a Grammy.

Y/N froze, rag in hand. “Quino.”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“That’s not even the right melody.”

He grinned. “I’m doing the remix.”

“Please don’t.”

But it was already too late. He launched into the next line, doubling the volume and somehow managing to harmonize with nothing.

“She wears short skirts I WEAR T-SHIRTS—”

“STOPPP,” Y/N shrieked, ducking her head into her hoodie, laughing so hard her stomach hurt. “Quinooo, I swear to god—”

He was cackling, absolutely thriving off her chaos, flicking soap bubbles at her now for extra effect.

“Say you like it,” he teased, chasing her around the island with a sponge. “Say I’m talented. Say I’m the people’s pop star.”

“YOU’RE A MENACE.”

She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, voice cracking as she tried to fight him off with a kitchen towel.

“Stop it,” she gasped, half laughing, half crying now, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m gonna pee. I’m gonna pee my pants. I mean it.”

“Better now than in the truck,” Joaquin said cheerfully, dancing around her like he was in a concert crowd. “This is the exclusive living room performance, babe. Be grateful.”

She collapsed onto the floor, breathless and curled in on herself, still giggling uncontrollably. “I’m going to call Sam and tell him what you’re doing to me.”

“Go ahead. He’ll side with me. He likes my performances.”

“HE DOESN’T.”

He knelt down beside her, smug and glowing with victory. “Admit it. You love me more when I’m annoying.”

“I don’t even like you right now.”

“You’re literally crying from laughter.”

“I’m crying because you’re deranged.”

He beamed. “Same thing.”

She flopped dramatically into his lap. “You’re exhausting. My brain is soup. I am soup now.”

He kissed her forehead like he hadn’t just caused a small emotional breakdown.

“I love you, my little soup.”

“Shut up.”

“Say it back.”

“Not until you promise to never sing Taylor Swift again.”

“...what if I said I have a whole playlist queued?”

“I will commit a crime.”

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Sam stepped into the apartment cautiously, already suspicious.

The music was loud. Like, walls shaking, windows rattling loud. And it wasn’t Joaquin’s usual feel good playlist—it was full on metal. The kind of music that made Sam instinctively squint.

He followed the sound into the living room and found Y/N sitting cross legged on the floor, dressed in sweatpants and an oversized AC/DC shirt, hair wild, eyeliner smudged like she’d either had a long night or a very powerful catnap. She was tinkering with some little device in her lap that looked like an arc reactor, because of course.

Joaquin was in the kitchen, squinting dramatically at the Bluetooth speaker like it had personally offended him.

“She’s been playing this for an hour,” he called out when he noticed Sam.

Y/N didn’t look up. “You can leave. Door’s right there.”

Sam held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just here to borrow the air fryer. Don’t involve me in whatever this is.”

“It’s Iron Maiden,” Y/N said proudly. “It’s culture.”

“It’s a cry for help,” Joaquin muttered, scrolling through his phone. “We could be listening to Bad Bunny right now. We could be thriving.”

Y/N shot him a look over her shoulder. “Touch that speaker and I’ll throw this at you.”

Joaquin grinned. Touched the speaker anyway.

Instantly, the music cut off. Replaced by reggaetón.

Y/N froze. Slowly turned around like a horror movie villain.

“Joaquin.”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“What did I just say?”

“That threats of violence are foreplay?”

Before Sam could even process that, Joaquin darted out of the kitchen, sprinting across the room as Y/N launched a pillow at his head. She stood up in one fluid motion, chasing after him.

“I told you not to!”

He laughed, circling the couch. “I’m enhancing the vibe!”

She chased him halfway around the living room before he doubled back, caught her mid-lunge, and threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.

“Joaquin!” she screeched, fists pounding against his back. “PUT ME DOWN.”

“I will,” he said cheerfully, “once you admit my music taste is superior.”

“Never! I don’t even understand what they’re saying!”

Sam stood there frozen, holding the air fryer under one arm like a shield. “She’s gonna kill you, man. Actually kill you. Like, she’s got the Stark sass in her bloodline. You are so dead.”

Joaquin just danced around with her still on his shoulder, shaking his hips to the beat, grinning big.

“This is a normal Tuesday, relax,” he said, spinning with her as she screamed bloody murder and maybe—just maybe—was starting to laugh a little.

“I hate you,” Y/N gasped between giggles.

He smacked a kiss to her thigh. “You’re obsessed with me.”

Sam backed slowly toward the door, still holding the air fryer like it might explode. “I’m leaving. Y’all are unwell.”

Joaquin winked at him. “Tell the world our love is powerful.”

Y/N elbowed him in the back. “Tell the world he’s getting buried in the backyard if he plays 'Moscow Mule' again.”

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Y/N got in a mood when Joaquin didn’t answer her text right away.

So when he finally walked through the door with groceries like a normal person, Y/N was already curled up on the couch in his hoodie looking emotionally unstable.

“You forgot about me,” she said flatly, not even looking up from the blanket she was swaddled in.

Joaquin blinked. “What?”

“You didn’t respond for forty-three minutes,” she said, holding up her phone like it was evidence in a trial. “I timed it.”

“I was driving. For you. To get your snacks.”

She sniffed. “I thought you were dead. Or worse. Ignoring me.”

He set the bags down and walked toward her slowly. “You good?”

“No. I’m feeling very unloved and neglected and fragile.”

“You FaceTimed me from the bathroom while I was still at the store.”

“I was vulnerable.”

He grinned. Oh. Oh. So that’s the game they were playing.

“Mi vida,” he said, kneeling in front of her like she was on her deathbed. “Are you saying I emotionally wounded you by leaving you here for an hour?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You’re right. I’ve been so cruel.” He took her hand and pressed it to his chest. “But if I leave you again… take me out. I won’t survive the guilt.”

Y/N stared at him. “Don’t. Don’t do the soft voice thing. I’m being dramatic. Let me be dramatic.”

“You want me to be distant to fuel the bit? Okay.” He stood up abruptly. “You’re right. Maybe I have been pulling away.”

Her eyes widened. “What.”

“I just think we’ve gotten too close, you know? Too fast. Maybe we need space.”

“JOAQUIN.”

“I’m worried we’re codependent.”

“STOP. TAKE IT BACK.”

He smirked, circling the couch now, fully committing. “Do you think we lost ourselves in each other?”

She launched a throw pillow at his head. “I will cry on purpose.”

“Good. I like it when you cry. Makes me feel needed.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m yours.”

She screamed into the pillow. “This is NOT how ragebait is supposed to go!”

“You tried to ragebait the ragebait champion. Know your place, princess.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

He flopped down beside her and tugged her into his lap, arms looping around her.

“You’re obsessed with me,” he whispered.

“I am,” she hissed back. “And I hate that for me.”

“Bet you still want forehead kisses.”

“…Shut up and do it already.”

He kissed her forehead three times in a row, obnoxiously loud.

She groaned. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

“And I’m only getting hotter.”

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Y/N had exactly one thing planned for the evening: an uninterrupted candlelit bath. She’d earned it—long day, annoying people. The lights were low, her bath bomb had fizzed and the water was just hot enough to sting a little.

She’d sunk in with a dramatic sigh, bubbles up to her collarbones, a glass of wine perched dangerously close to her phone.

Then, like clockwork, the bathroom door creaked open.

“I swear to god,” she muttered, not even opening her eyes. “Joaquin—”

“Heyyy,” he said cheerfully, already strolling in. “Just checking on my girl. You know. Make sure you’re alive and not drowning in your own princess foam.”

She cracked one eye open to glare at him. “I locked that door.”

He sat down fully on the closed toilet seat, grinning. “I picked it. Don’t be mad. I missed you.”

“You saw me ten minutes ago.”

“And yet—here I am. Suffering without you.”

Y/N groaned and sank lower into the water. “You’re such a pest.”

He leaned forward dramatically, elbows on knees, chin in hand. “Tell me about your day, babe.”

“No.”

“I’m your boyfriend.”

“I didn’t ask for therapy. I asked for silence.”

He dipped a hand into the water and flicked it gently at her arm.

She didn’t even flinch. “Do it again and I’ll drown you.”

He flicked again. “I like my odds.”

She turned her head, giving him an exasperated look. “Are you seriously just gonna sit there the whole time?”

“I can sit in there, if you want,” he offered innocently.

“You are the worst.”

Another splash.

“I swear—Joaquin, I am so close to—”

She paused mid threat and sighed.

“…Are you gonna get in or what?”

Joaquin lit up. “God, I love you.”

He stood and peeled off his clothes in record time, stepping into the tub behind her like he’d been waiting for that moment all day. He slid into place, wrapping his arms around her waist as she shifted forward to make room.

Now she was sitting between his legs, back against his chest, his stupid heartbeat steady and warm against her spine.

For a long moment, they were both quiet. Then:

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” she muttered. “Annoy me until I invited you in just to shut you up?”

He beamed against the side of her face. “You're so easy to break, princess. I was barely getting started.”

She snorted. “You’re a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

She turned just enough to flick a bubble at his face.

He gasped. “Betrayal. In my bathtub?”

She grabbed the shampoo bottle and shoved it into his hands. “If you’re gonna invade, you’re doing labor. Wash my hair.”

He took it like it was a sacred task. “Gladly. You have the best hair in the world, by the way. It’s so soft and smells so good.”

“Stop talking.”

“But it’s true.”

“Quino.”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“…Scrub.”

He lathered up her hair, fingers surprisingly gentle. Y/N sighed, melting back into him despite herself. He hummed a dumb little tune while massaging her scalp.

Eventually, she opened one eye. “You do know I’m gonna finish this bath alone after this, right?”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, kissing the back of her shoulder. “Just wanted to be annoying enough to get a cuddle in. Mission accomplished.”

She smiled, tiny and smug. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know.”

There was a pause. A long, quiet one.

Then, softly: “You’re so annoying.”

He grinned against her shoulder. “I’m aware.”

“No, like, you drive me insane.”

“Only the best for my princess.”

She groaned, but it was hopeless. Her head tilted slightly, letting it rest against his. “…And I love you so much all the same.”

His arms tightened just a little, his smile stretching even wider. “I know you do.”

“Quino.”

He laughed, kissed the side of her head, then whispered against her temple, voice lower now. “I love you too, cariño. So much.”

She closed her eyes again, finally at peace—surrounded by bubbles, steam, and the most annoyingly perfect human she’d ever known.

And for once, she let him stay in the bath the whole time.

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author's note: my first joaquin imagine ahhhh!! this is so freaking cute i was giggling and kicking my feet writing it. he's so cute i loveee him.

also ugh, when y/n says she doesn't like bad bunny cause she doesn't understand what he's saying hurt my soul cause i'm latina LMAO

i need to write more for him, and lucky for me, i have another quino request that i'll be starting this week!!

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ballorawan740 · 7 hours ago

Note

i've been thinking about jealous!joaquin but like jealous - nick jonas

Jealous and Obsessed ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Joaquín can't handle seeing a stranger flirting with you

tw: fem!reader, jealous!Joaquín, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi!! How I've never written jealous!Joaquín in a Jealous b Nick Jonas way is beyond me, but I'm glad you've been thinking about it!!

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín Torres considered himself lucky, you were everything he never dared to dream about. Never dared to let himself believe that he could have, yet you keep choosing him. You've proven that you would keep choosing him every time, but he couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy. You were just being polite, he told himself. That you're only talking to the man in front of you because you're nice.

He knows what people think when they look at you too long, hell he thinks it too. You're attractive and funny, but you're also so kind and caring and people don't know that. They don't know that looking at you and they don't know that you're his just by looking at you. They don't know that you're going to turn them down the second you could, that you'll get jealous when some girl approaches Joaquín. But Joaquín does, he knows everything there is to know about you.

Joaquín downs the rest of his drink, placing the empty cup down on a passing waiter's tray. He crosses the room, his chin held high and his chest puffed up. He knows you're doing fine on your own, but he couldn't stand it anymore. The longer he watched you talk with the stranger the more the edges of his vision blurred red. "Hey, querida," Joaquín said, planting a kiss to your temple. querida = darling

"Hey, baby," you smiled at him, your red painted lips drawing his attention.

"I'll leave you two alone," the man excused himself and you gave him a smile with a small wave to be polite.

"You're obsessed, you know that?" You turned to fully face Joaquín and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands landed on your waist like they belonged there, mainly because they did.

"Can you blame me?" He smirked down at you.

"I guess not," you sighed, fake annoyed. "Want to get out of here? We can go home and watch that movie you were talking about," you offered, watching him think it over. Joaquín's lips curled into a softer smile before kissing you, it was soft and sweet and over way too soon. You giggled lightly when you saw the red smeared on his lips but he didn't move to wipe it off.

"Yeah, let's go home," Joaquín said, giving you one last kiss.

"If you're nice, I'll even let you remove my dress for me," you whispered against his lips before pulling away. You didn't make it far before Joaquín pulled you back to him and kissing you, just a little deeper and more desperate this time.

"I'll be so nice," he promised before leading you out of the party, not bothering to say a proper bye to Sam on the way out.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

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ballorawan740 · 8 hours ago

Text

Safe (in your arms) | Kraven x Reader | T | 200

Summary: While checking the small game traps with Sergei, a misstep almost results in an accident.

Author's notes: June of Doom, day 23 - Don't move.

Safe (in your arms)

“Don’t move.”

Eyes wide, you freeze. Foot raised, you daren’t move an inch. In all of your time living with Sergei, you have only ever heard him use that tone a handful of times; always at poachers. Not once at you.

He’s at your side before you can utter a word, broad palm wrapping around your knee, keeping your leg firmly elevated. An arm wraps around your waist and he lifts you completely, retreating a handful of steps before placing you down. Against your back, you feel the tension seep out of him.

“Sergei?” Turning your head towards him questioningly, you watch as he bends, selecting a fallen branch. He taps the floor in front of you: one foot, two feet, three—

You scream as the branch snaps in two, splinters flying. Your eyes lock on the bear trap — once fully submerged in fresh autumn leaves — as its jaws close around the thick branch, cutting through it with ease. Heart racing, you wrap trembling arms around Sergei, unable to look away from the trap. A calloused hand cups your jaw, turning you towards him.

“Let me lead. You follow. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know you won’t.”

AO3: Otaku_girl | 30 days, 30 fics | ATJ character masterlist

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ballorawan740 · 8 hours ago

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WHY IS HE LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT?! I somehow fucked up his sim

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ballorawan740 · 8 hours ago

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Nothing horny to say, but if yall keep talking about that one topic on Danny’s hashtag one more time I’m gonna lose it. End that conversation NOW y’all sound like little obsessed fangirls please. It’s annoying and unbelievably unbearable to go through the # to find some content and all I get is that topic as suggestions atp yall made it his personality which btw his acting/ played characters should be the focus but oh what do I know. His private life shouldn’t matter to us move on the fuck.

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ballorawan740 · 8 hours ago

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Joaquín: Nothing feels better than winning Monopoly. Not love, not sex, not free pizza, nothing!

Yelena: Hold on, have you tried pizza?

Joaquín: Yes, and it doesn’t compare to owning half the board and watching the light die from your friend’s eyes as you take their money and feel your friendship slowly deteriorate.

Yelena, turning to Bob who just lost monopoly: I like him

41 notes · View notes

ballorawan740 · 8 hours ago

Note

Can you write for Joaquin Torres as a girl dad and how he would react when shes like a teen/young adult or smth and starts to date and all

I love this idea anon! 😍 Hope you enjoy this story and all its cuteness!

——————————————————————————

Daddy’s Girl

Plot: You and Joaquin have been together for many years and it’s been an adventure! Falling in love, getting married, and starting a family was the most amazing thing you ever did together. But when your daughter grows up it brings new challenges, including dating!

Pairing: Joaquin Torres/Wife!Reader

Requested: yes! (Make a request here)

Warnings: none, just a cute story about Joaquin as a girl dad 🖤

Masterlist

If someone had told you 20 years ago that you’d be married to Joaquin Torres, you would have laughed in their face. You never could have pictured yourself with the high energy, loud mouthed idiot you met through your coworker, Ruth Bat-Seraph. While you worked as Ruth’s assistant she introduced you to Sam and Joaquin, as you’d be working closely with them.

If it hadn’t been for Ruth, you’d probably still be single and living a boring life. Joaquin lit up your world in a way you never imagined possible, but it didn’t happen all at once. At first he annoyed you with his high energy personality and inability to keep his mouth shut. It wasn’t until a mission gone wrong that you finally saw him in a different light.

You had been held captive by the leader of a resistance group who was hell bent on taking down Captain America. You waited day in and day out to find a way to escape, expecting Ruth to bust in any minute, but instead it was Joaquin. He had broken in to get you while Ruth and Sam took down the fugitives.

Every day after that, Joaquin sat by your side at the hospital while you healed. He was your shoulder to cry on and quickly became someone you trusted with everything you had. After that you found yourself falling in love with his soft smile, his dark eyes, and his ability to make you smile no matter what.

You started dating and married two years later. Three years after that you found out you expecting a baby, a little girl you named Lorelei Grace Torres.

Lorelei was now 15 years old and you and Joaquin felt a little out of your element times. There was no handbook for raising a teenage daughter but you tried your best. Having been a teenage girl once you knew what it felt like to feel strange in your own body, to now know who your real friends were, to feel like you didn’t fit or in or weren’t good at anything. You and Joaquin did what you could with what you had and things always seemed to work out smoothly. But one day, you were met with a whole new challenge.

* * * * *

You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables while Joaquin cooked burgers, when Lorelei ran in after her school bus dropped her off. She was grinning ear to ear and her cheeks were a light shade of pink.

“Hey Lori, how was school?” you asked, noticing her excitement.

“Oh my god mom you’re never gonna guess what happened!!!” She said excitedly, practically bouncing on her tiptoes.

You giggled and looked at her as you rinsed off the carrots and celery you had just finished chopping. “Well I’m sure you’re going to tell me” you said, humoring her. She definitely had her father’s high energy personality.

“Asher asked me to the school dance!” She squealed.

You stopped dead in your tracks as Joaquin nearly dropped the burgers on the floor.

“Oh honey, that’s exciting. Are you gonna go with him?” You asked, rubbing Joaquin’s shoulder to keep him calm.

“Yes and I’m so excited! I cant wait to pick out a dress!” she said

“Awe, I’m happy for you Lori” you said as you continued to prepare dinner, now that Joaquin seemed to be out-of-order from the news.

“I’m gonna go call Penny and Amber, I can’t wait to tell them!” She said excitedly as she ran up to her room to FaceTime with her best friends.

You looked over at Joaquin, who seemed to be short circuiting. “You okay babe?” You asked rubbing his shoulder.

“She’s going on her first date, she’s going to the dance with a boy!” He said rubbing his forehead.

“You had to know this day would be coming” you said sitting down in his lap and running your fingers through his dark curls like you always did when he was stressed.

“Yeah but not yet!”

“Babe, she’s 15 years old. She’s old enough to go on dates and she’s a good girl. She knows right from wrong” you said, kissing his cheek.

“I know she does, but I was a 15 year old boy once. Do you know what they’re thinking?!” He asked, his eyes pleading you to understand.

“Yes I do actually” you said giggling “but I’ve met this boy before and he seems like a good kid”

He sighed and nuzzled his face into your neck. “She’s not a little girl anymore” he said softly.

“No, but she’ll be always be our baby girl” you said playing with his hair. “Maybe tonight after dinner you should talk to her” you suggested.

He nodded. This wasn’t going to be easy for him, but you knew in the end that he’d be okay.

* * * * *

After dinner the three of you sat down in the living room to watch TV and spend quality time together.

You looked over at Lori who was smiling at her phone. You nudged Joaquin and he nodded.

“Hey Peanut, can we talk for a minute?” he asked.

“Sure daddy, what’s up?” She asked as she sat up in her spot in the recliner.

“I’m gonna give you two some privacy” you said as you got up, kissing his forehead before you went into the kitchen to eavesdrop.

Lori got up and sat down next to him on the couch. He took in a deep breath. I know you’re excited about the dance and your first date but…”

“But what?” She asked

“I’d like to meet him and his parents before the dance next week” he said.

You could tell it was killing him to finally have this conversation with his daughter. You watched as Lori nodded “okay” she said quietly.

“It’s not that I don’t trust him but…I…don’t trust him, especially with my baby girl” he said looking down at his hands.

“If I thought he was gonna be gross with me I wouldn’t be going with him daddy” she said giggling a bit “trust me, other boys tried. He was the only one I trusted enough”

You watched as he grinned a bit and put his around her “I’m glad to hear it peanut” he said as she snuggled into him “but I still wanna meet him first. We’ll invite him and his parents over for a barbecue” he suggested.

Lori smiled “okay” she said “I think you’ll like him”

“I hope so” he said.

At that point things got quiet and you decided it was time to head back into the living room, pretending you hadn’t been listening, for Lori’s sake anyway.

“Everything okay?” You asked as you sat rack down.

“Yeah” Lori said smiling “just talking about the dance. Daddy wants to meet Asher first”

“I’ll call his mom tomorrow” you said smiling as Lori grabbed her phone.

“I’m gonna go shower then go to bed, I have a biology test tomorrow” Lori said coming over to give you both a hug

“Okay honey, goodnight. Love you” you said.

“Love you!” She said as she skipped up the stairs.

You cuddled into Joaquin’s side “you handled that well babe” you said as you kissed his jawline.

“Thanks” he said, turning his head to catch your lips

“Mmm” you hummed softly as you kissed him softly. You felt like you were in your 20’s again, kissing him for the time, every time his lips touched yours.

You pulled away from his lips “you’re an amazing father” you whispered softly.

* * * * *

That weekend, Ashton and his parents came over for dinner to meet you and Joaquin.

Everything went smoothly and Joaquin seemed more at ease after meeting the boy who had an interest in his daughter, and the people who had had raised him.

You learned that Ashton played on the soccer team, was in robotics club, and took piano lessons. He was very shy, a stark contrast from the other boys who tended to hang around your daughter. You could see why she’d become smitten with this one.

The next day you accompanied Lori to a local boutique to pick out a dress for the dance. She tried on a few different ones but ultimately chose the one you’d both fallen in love with. It was emerald green, strapless, and had a layered ruffled skirt.

When you arrived home, Joaquin was sitting on the couch. He smiled at the two of you. “Did you find a dress peanut?”

“I did, it’s amazing” she said smiling, holding up the garment bag that contained her dress.

“You gonna show me?”

“Nope, not until Friday night!” She said giggling and going up to her room, mostly likely to FaceTime her friends and show them the dress.

You smiled at Joaquin “it’s a really nice dress” you said “she looks cute in it”

“It’s not too short, right?” He asked, being a typical protective dad.

“I wouldn’t have let her get a dress that was too short” you said smiling as you sat down beside him, hearing your daughter squealing and giggling upstairs.

* * * * *

Friday night came quickly and you helped Lori put on her dress and do her hair. You went back downstairs where Joaquin was waiting for Ashton and his dad to arrive to pick her up.

“Lori is finishing up her makeup. She wants to ‘make an entrance’ when Ashton gets here” you said giggling.

“Of course” he said laughing with that cute boyish chuckle that you loved.

A few minutes later the doorbell rang and you went to answer it. Ashton stood nervously on the front porch, wearing navy slacks and a button down shirt cuffed at the elbows. He was holding a bouquet of pink daisies, Lori’s favorite flowers.

“Lori, Ashton is here” you called up to her.

A few seconds later your daughter walked downstairs, blushing as soon as her eyes landed on Ashton. She looked adorable in her green dress. Her long dark curls, that she’d inherited from her father, were pulled up in high ponytail.

“You look adorable peanut” Joaquin said smiling and giving her a gentle hug.

“Thanks daddy” she said before looking over at Ashton again.

“You look…wow…you look beautiful Lori” Ashton said, blushing bright red, causing Lori to blush as well.

“Thank you” she said “you look really cute”

You could feel Joaquin getting a little tense watching his baby girl flirting with a boy. You walked over and wrapped your arms around his bicep to keep him calm.

You watched the two teens as the young boy nervously handed your daughter the flowers he had brought her. Her smile told you everything you needed to know, she was smitten.

“I’ll um, I’ll make sure she’s home by curfew Mr and Mrs Torres” Ashton said smiling.

“We know you will” you said smiling “you two have fun”

“Not too much fun” Joaquin said, eyeing the young boy, who just nodded nervously as he took Lori’s hand as he walked her out to where his dad was waiting in the car.

You stood in the doorway and waved as they drove off.

After you shut the door behind you, you pulled Joaquin in for kiss. “You did so good baby, I’m proud of you” you said running your hands through his hair.

“That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done” he said, letting out a deep breath.

“Not as hard as it will be to let her go off to college, move out of the house, or give her away on her wedding day” you said giggling.

“One thing at a time baby” he said pulling you closer.

You giggled and kissed him softly “we have the whole night to ourselves, at least until 10:30” you said smirking at him.

He chuckled and grinned at you mischievously “mm, come here” he said picking you up and carrying you upstairs.

“Just don’t get me pregnant” you said jokingly “we can barely handle one kid”

“No promises” he said as he carried you into your bedroom and shut the door behind him.

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ballorawan740 · 8 hours ago

Text

Our Little Secret

Summary: While baking with your bestfriend, she had to leave to get a few more ingredients. With the house empty, with the exception of her brother, you finally spend time with your boyfriend.

Pairing: bestfriend's brother!Joaquin x reader

Warnings: secret relationship, Joaquin has a sister named Jackie, making out, Joaquin being cocky and flirty, no foreplay, smut, MDNI 18+

A/n: Based on this post

You spotted him at the corner of your eye when you entered the house. He was staring, he always was. When you made eye contact, you almost melted when he winked at you. He smirked at the way your knees just slightly buckled, knowing the effect he has on you. Your gaze lingers on his lips, God you want to feel them on yours so bad. It's been so long since you've kissed him.

You snap out of it when Jackie calls you. "I bought all of the ingredients earlier." She says as she takes out all of the ingredients for the cookies the two of you will be bringing to a birthday party. "Joaquin do you wanna help?"

"By help can I lick the bowl?" He teases. You bite back your smile as Jackie glares at him.

"No! Besides, that's how you get salmonella dumbass." She looks at you and rolls her eyes which makes you laugh. When you look back at Joaquin, he's smiling at you. He loves your smile, especially your laugh. He thinks it's the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Oh! I forgot my apron upstairs, I washed it." She excuses herself and runs up to her room. Joaquin checks the stairs to make sure the coast is clear before turning back and slamming his lips onto yours.

His mouth is needy and frantic as he tries to get just enough to hold him over for next time before Jackie returns. He pins you against the counter, trapping you against him. "God I missed these fucking lips," he groans, grabbing at your ass and causing you to moan.

"Got it!" You hear Jackie's footsteps move down the stairs quickly. Joaquin kisses you one last time before going back to his previous seat. You adjust your shirt and hair just as Jackie enters the kitchen again. She ties her apron around her waist, "Alright, now we can get started!" She places her hands on her hips and nods firmly.

While the two of you wait for the cookies to finish baking, you sit at the table just talking. Joaquin had left not long after the two of you started baking. He said it was boring to watch but he didn't want to help either so he just went up to his room.

Mid-laughter, Jackie checks her phone when she gets a text and her smile drops. "Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me!"

"What? What is it?" You lean over to look at her phone which she tilts towards you.

"Annie says to bring cupcakes too! That fucking bitch always tells me things last minute." She groans with an eye roll. "Ugh! I guess I'll go out to buy the stuff then." She gets up begrudgingly.

"Do you want me to go with you?" You stand up as well, ready to follow her.

"No, you keep an eye on the cookies. Just take them out and let them cool on the counter." You nod and just as she's about to leave she turns back around. "Oh and can you tell Joaquin I'm heading back out?" You nod and she leaves.

You waited for the cookies to finish baking and take them out to cool before heading upstairs. You knock on Joaquin's door and hear his muffled voice. When he opens it, he's wearing gray sweatpants with no shirt on. You can't help but gaze at his abs. You've seen them before but you'll never not gawk at the sight.

"Something you need querida?" His voice snaps you out of your daze and you look back up to meet his smirk.

"Jackie just wanted me to tell you that she's heading back out to get ingredients for cupcakes." You put on an innocent smile as if you weren't just checking him out.

He nods, "is that it?" By his tone and the look on his face, you can tell he's insinuating something else. You decided to tease him. "Yup! That's it!" You move to walk away but you don't get far before his hand grasps your wrists and tugs you back to him.

"C'mere" he mutters before cupping your face and kissing you. You're surprised by how gentle and slow his kisses are. Usually he's much more frantic and rushed. You suppose with the empty house, with the exception of you two, there's no need to rush.

He drags you into his room, lips still on yours, and cages you against the door once he kicks it shut with his foot. "I missed you," he mutters against your lips.

"You literally saw me earlier," you giggle as he leans down to kiss your neck.

"Not long enough. I needed you then and I need you now." He squeezes at your ass, causing you to arch against him.

"Then have me now," you breathe out. He smiles and connects your lips once more, picking you up in the process and bringing you to bed.

You wrap your arms along his lower back and bring him further down on you. He groans when the tip of his bulge nudges you. "Fuck you're so perfect, it's unfair." He practically whines. "I love you so much angel."

"I love you too– oh!" You throw your head back when he grinds down once more. "How much time do we have?" You breathlessly ask against his lips.

"Not enough to do everything I want. We'll have to be fast." You nod and slam your lips on his, your hands shooting to the waistband of his sweatpants. He chuckles at your eagerness but helps you nonetheless. He flings the article of clothing off his feet, leaving him in just his underwear.

Once those are off, he grabs the bottom hem of your shirt, only disconnecting from your lips for a split second to remove it. "Fuck" he leans down to suck on your tits, humming when you tap on his shoulder.

"Hurry up Quino, times ticking." You smile teasingly and he chuckles against your skin. He teasingly bites your nipple, causing you to let out a yelp sound. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties to pull them down while you do the same with his underwear.

Your mouth falls open and you swear you feel drool trickle down your cheek as you stare at his cock. If you had time, you would totally give him head. "Quit staring mi vida, times ticking." He tuts with a disapproving head shake. You roll your eyes and lay back down so your head is resting on his soft pillows.

"I know I'm beautiful but I gotta make you cum before my sister comes home." He smiles when he hears that giggle that makes him weak in the knees escape your pretty lips. You moan against him when you feel him slowly penetrate you.

It doesn't take long for his thrusts to speed up. His tip abuses your g spot over and over again at a rapid pace, trying to bring you to your peak before Jackie returns.

"Come on baby come on! Give it to me!" He groans through gritted teeth. His calloused thumb hastily rubs at your throbbing clit and that just about does it. You feel him cum not long after.

Though the two of you do prefer longer, more passionate sex, quickies feel just as good and are so thrilling. They just add more excitement to your secret relationship.

You whine at the loss of him when he pulls out. He bites back his smile when he sees his cum leaking out of you. He gives you a mischievous look before shoving it back in with his fingers, causing you to moan. "I want you to feel me when you're downstairs."

"Freak" you say with an eye roll.

"You love this freak though." He leans over you with a smile. He slowly lowers down but not yet kissing you, keeping your lips just centimeters apart.

"For some damn reason" you say before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.

You pull apart with a gasp when you hear the front door slam shut. "I'm back!"

"Shit!" Both of your eyes widen and you push Joaquin off as you frantically search for your clothes.

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ballorawan740 · 8 hours ago

Note

Could you do Joaquin Torres x f!reader

You went to gala in White House as secret agent. You walks around that lots of people and acquaintances came. Your dress is so nice in one off shoulder black dress. You walk over as you bump to someone, you’re gonna apologies. He hold your waist to be careful to fall. You two look each other in thirty second. You stand as he may introduced himself so do you. You two seem to have great chemistry. Having great time but Joaquin wanna have a slow dance with you. He just wants to see you again. You literally having good time with him. Sam came to Joaquin that he met someone so wonderful

(Hope you will write it, thanks and have a good day)

The Spy and the Pilot

PAIRING: Joaquin Torres x Reader 💋

WORD COUNT: 1948 ✍️

REQUESTS: Open! 💌 (send yours my way ,I love writing them all!)

🌟 Danny Ramirez Masterlist 🌟

You step from the motorcade onto the polished marble of the North Portico, heart thundering beneath the sleek lines of your one-shoulder black gown. It’s your first assignment of the evening: infiltrate the White House gala, gather intel on a shadowy arms dealer rumored to be attending, and,if necessity dictates,neutralize any threats. All under the cover of a glittering soiree, where diamond tiaras and tuxedos swirl like constellations of power and privilege.

Yet, as a consummate agent, you’ve donned your cover flawlessly. The inky satin of your dress clings to you like a second skin; discreet heels add inches to your height without compromising your foothold. A delicate bracelet hides a slimline comm device; the clutch at your side conceals microgram explosives. As you sweep past a pair of Secret Service agents, they nod curtly,unaware they’re letting in not just a guest, but an operative.

Inside, the East Room is awash in soft amber light. Crystal chandeliers dangle overhead, each prism scattering rainbows across polished mahogany and white-marble columns. Guests murmur in clusters, flute glasses catching the glow. You lift one to your lips, allowing yourself a sip of champagne, scanning for the target. Your eyes flick from senator to tech magnate, from foreign dignitary to socialite, all while your heels click decisively, elegant but purposeful.

Yet before you can triangulate your mark, a ripple of movement catches your eye. A man in a tailored charcoal suit sidesteps toward the bar, his dark hair falling in unruly waves over a thoughtful brow. A pair of deep-set brown eyes flick up to meet yours. Your breath catches,shoot, not now.

You pivot on a heel to give way to a cluster of debutantes in ivory gowns. But in that split second, you misjudge the clearance, and your elbow collides with someone’s shoulder. Glasses tinkle. A collective gasp and you spin to apologize, ready with a smile as practiced as any spy craft.

“Excuse me,I’m so sorry,” you murmur, voice calm.

“Careful,” a warm voice says, low and amused. You look up to find the man in charcoal bending to steady you by the waist, his hand firm against your hip. The heat of his palm radiates through the satin of your dress. Time pauses.

His eyes are curious, amused, perhaps concerned. You realize too late that your legs had nearly given out; without his steadying hand, you would’ve stumbled into the crowd.

“I…thank you.” You let your hand linger on his wrist for a heartbeat before releasing it. “I should watch where I’m going.”

He straightens, sliding his hand off as though aware of propriety. “Only if you intend to keep that dress flawless tonight,” he says, a playful lilt in his voice.

All at once you recognize him: Joaquin Torres, decorated Air Force pilot-turned-Avenger liaison. You’ve heard about him,his unwavering resolve, his fierce loyalty, his quick wit. But you’ve never met him in person. Let alone had him catch you mid-stumble.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a rescue from Señor Torres,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to keep your tone light.

“Just doing my civic duty,” he replies, tipping an imaginary hat. “But once you join the heroes’ club, you can call me Joaquin.”

Your pulse flutters. “Call you…Joaquin. I may still owe you an apology. May I buy you a drink in compensation?”

A slow smile curves his lips. “I’d like that.”

He offers his arm and you link yours through his. The crowd parts as you move toward the bar together. Conversation flows as smoothly as the champagne:

“So what brings you to the White House gala, Señorita,?”

“(Y/N),” you supply, glancing at your name badge. “(Y/N) [Last Name]. I work in the Department of International Relations.”

“And what sort of mischief does the Department of International Relations get into at a gala?” he teases.

“Only the most diplomatic,” you quip. “And you? I hear you’re working security detail with SHIELD tonight.”

He shrugs modestly. “Calling it detail seems grand. I’m just here to keep an eye on anyone who might blow up the place.”

You both chuckle, the easy camaraderie loosening your professional reserve. He orders a round of champagne, and you raise your glass in toast.

“To new acquaintances,” he says. “And to not falling flat on your face in front of the nation’s leaders.”

You clink glasses, the bubbles tickling your throat. The air between you hums.

Over the next hour, you duck into alcoves to share whispered confidences. You learn he’s been in country on reconnaissance missions; you spin tales of diplomatic negotiations in far-off capitals. Laughter springs freely when he recounts riding camels in the desert; you smile at his teasing when you confess you once tripped over your own suitcase on assignment in Tokyo.

At one point, he glances at the ballroom floor, where a slow, swelling melody has begun. A dance number. The orchestra’s violins beckon.

“May I have this dance?” he asks, stepping closer, eyes alight.

Your breath catches. “I,yes.”

He slips an arm around your waist; you rest your hand on his shoulder. He guides you to the dance floor. The lights dim slightly, turning the room into a swirl of silver and gold. Other couples drift around you like glowing boats on a dark sea.

As the first notes drift from the orchestra pit, Joaquin draws you close enough that you can feel the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. The world contracts until it’s just the two of you, swaying gently.

“You’re a surprisingly good dancer,” he murmurs.

“I had a great teacher,” you reply, the warmth of his arm around you making your conversation intimate. “You?”

“First time I’ve asked someone to dance at a White House gala,” he confesses, voice low.

You look up at him. The candlelight on his cheekbones. The earnest tilt of his head. “I’m honored to be your first,” you say softly.

He smiles, that brilliant, boyish grin. “Then I must be very lucky.”

They say slow dances are meant for whispered fantasies and passing touches, and in that moment, you understand. The soft brushing of his hand against yours. The careful way he guides you. The gentle rhythm of your breath. Always, he keeps one protective arm around you, as if to ensure nothing shatters this fragile bubble.

When the song ends, you both linger, toes still pointed in the center of the floor. Applause breaks out. Joaquin bows with mock flourish.

“I think we just stole the show,” he jokes.

“I’d watch your back more carefully,” you warn with a grin. “You never know which agent is truly on duty.”

He lifts a brow, then winks. “I’d hope I could count on you to cover mine.”

Your chest warms. “I might just surprise you.”

The evening flows on: you slip away to dart down a service corridor, checking the hidden doorway where your contact awaits. She hands you a dossier on a certain attendee rumored to be exchanging illicit weapons blueprints. You tuck it into your clutch, promising a later rendezvous. Then, duty calls again,a suspicious cell phone signal, an overheard threat. On your way back, you round a corner and nearly collide with someone.

It’s Joaquin.

“Everything all right?” he asks instantly, eyebrows knitting.

“Fine,” you say, blinking as you stash the dossier. “Just…caught up in a moment.”

He frowns. “If you need backup,”

“I’ve got it,” you insist. “But thank you.”

He nods, concern lingering in his eyes. “I’ll be around. Just…call if you need me.”

Something in that promise makes your heart flutter again.

Later, as the gala winds down, the president’s speech crescendos. Crystal glasses and orchids litter banquet tables. Guests mill for final farewells.

In a quieter chamber, near the grand staircase, Joaquin awaits you. His posture is casual, one foot on a low step, hands tucked in his pockets. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the room.

“You came,” you say, half-relieved, half-thrilled.

“I never miss the chance,” he says, offering a hand. “May I steal one more dance before it’s truly over?”

You smile and take it. Leading you down to a reprise of the earlier waltz theme, he murmurs, “I’ve been looking forward to this all night.”

Your head tilts on his chest. “I thought I might never see you again.”

“Not a chance,” he replies, twirling you beneath the grand chandelier. “I want to see you again.”

Your pulse spikes. “Then shall we set a date?”

“Dinner tomorrow?” He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “I know a little bistro that serves the best pasta.”

You laugh softly. “It’s a date.”

He brushes a stray curl from your forehead. “(Y/N), I,”

“Joaquin,” you prompt, voice tender.

He nods. “Joaquin. (Y/N). I’m glad we met tonight.”

“So am I.” You lift onto tiptoe, your lips brushing his. The moment is electric. Then he deepens it, drawing you close. The taste of champagne on his lips mingles with cologne and unspoken possibility.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless.

The next evening, under a canopy of twinkling lights in Joaquin’s little favorite trattoria, you sit across from each other, plates of steaming pasta between you. No espionage tonight,just laughter, stories, shared secrets. You learn he grew up in San Juan, Puerto Rico, and that he inherited his love of cuisine from his abuela. You confess your fondness for early-morning runs, the thrill of codes and ciphers.

Over tiramisu, he reaches for your hand. “I want more nights like this,” he says, sincerity warming his gaze. “Not just at work, not just at missions.”

You squeeze his hand. “I’d like that too.”

He grins, leaning in. “Good.”

In the weeks that follow, your worlds intertwine. Late-night stakeouts morph into moonlit strolls. Briefings with SHIELD civilian liaisons become dinner reservations at new restaurants. In the field, you fight side by side; off-duty, you coax each other’s smiles.

Once, during a critical extraction, he covers your retreat with precise suppressor shots. Once more, you hack security cameras to secure his escape. And each time, the trust deepens.

Between missions, stolen moments,whispers in darkened safehouses, shared coffees on rooftop terraces. He teaches you salsa steps beneath strings of patio lights. You reveal to him the intricate lock-picking set hidden in your heel.

Slowly, you shed your professional armor, revealing the person beneath the agent’s mask. He tells you about nights spent staring at the Puerto Rican stars. You confess childhood dreams of becoming a diplomat.

One evening, as you rest your head on his shoulder in the cockpit of a Quinjet, he murmurs, “I love you.”

You lift your head to him, surprised but certain. “I love you too.”

His face breaks into that radiant smile you first saw at the gala. “Good,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You trace his cheek. “Very good.”

Months later, you stand again on the White House lawn,not as spy and pilot, but as something more. The cherry blossoms bloom, and Joaquin stands before you, hand outstretched. In it, he holds a small black box.

“With everything we’ve been through,” he says softly, “I couldn’t imagine doing this life,adventures, missions, and all,without you by my side. Will you marry me?”

Tears spring to your eyes,joy, relief, love. You nod, voice trembling. “Yes.”

He slips the ring onto your finger, then lifts you into a tight embrace. Guests,friends, colleagues, and even a few stunned dignitaries,applaud. And in that moment, you know that your greatest mission yet is just beginning.

And it all started with a stumble in a black dress, a steadying hand…and a dance that changed your world.

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