#i'm genuinely not kidding i keep hovering over ask buttons

[mythvoiced]

-. inbox call ♥

*leans back in chair, folds hands over tummy Grandpa Style again* my fingers are itching to bother you folks, but I don't want to jumpscare anyone, so pls leave a like comment & subscribe DROP ME A HEART as a green light to duck waddle into your inbox

[littlelovelunette]

So I just discovered your page and im a sevika simp 😭 you write so well and I'm honestly just shook asf as to HOW YOU WRITE IT SO GOOD??

If it's possible, can you do g!p sevika x pregnant reader or something like that??

Like maybe reader just found out there pregnant with sevikas kid and it's just the whole thing of "while why not make another one >:))"

Sevika's Little One

Thank you so muchhhh anon y'all gonna make me cry with the praises 😭

Contains smut, breeding, pregnancy

It's been a while you have been having unprotected sex with Sevika, mainly because Sevika has been way too drunk to care and let's just say, she always fucked you so hard you barely had any idea whether she finished or not.

That's how you found yourself peeing on a pregnancy test while Sevika was at work. You let the pregnancy stick rest on the bathroom counter as you walked in front of the mirror. You'd been feeling nauseous for quite a bit now.

As you washed your hands off and did your skincare routine, you waited for the results to show not really sure what to expect.

The situation with Piltover and Zaun was at its absolute climax and it was likely the worst time to even think about having children. As you picked the pregnancy stick, you weren't too shocked to see the two lines indicating you were pregnant. Yeah, you saw it coming.

But what now?

Sevika didn't seem like the type to want kids and settle down although you were pretty sure she was amazing with children.

You picked your phone up and contemplated how you were supposed to ask Sevika to come home sober. You needed her to be sober when you said you were pregnant or else you were pretty sure she'd not take you seriously or even remember after the alcohol wore off.

“Sevika, I need you to come home sober, okay?” You typed out in the message bar and your finger hovered over the send button for a while before you forced your finger to click it. “Gosh.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. Now the only thing to worry about was how you were going to bring the subject upto her.

Worry faded into thin air once you got in bed and fell deep asleep, phone in hand. You didn't even realise when Sevika had gotten back.

“Hon, I'm home.” She called and walked into the bedroom, a small smile crossing her face as she saw you passed out on the bed on your stomach, phone in hand and one leg dangling off the bed edge.

“Why's the bathroom's light switch on?” Sevika mumbled under her breath as she walked into the bathroom, turning the lights off and her breath hitched in her throat. Eyes locked onto the pregnancy stick abandoned at the bathroom counter.

With steady steps she walked upto the test, picking it up with her flesh fingers.

Grey eyes widened in shock as she read the positive lining on the stick. Her heart was going a few miles per hour and she was sure of it now.

Sevika walked up to your sleeping form, own body tensed up with the amount of thoughts going through her head at once. As Sevika flipped you onto your back, you woke up, groggy but smiled seeing Sevika.

“Baby.” You cooed in your sleepy voice extending your arms towards Sevika. Seeing your expression, Sevika's anxiety slowly faded. It was still there lingering at the back of her head of course but she couldn't resist your open arms.

Sevika's arms, both flesh and mechanic, locked around your frame and brought you close so you could rest your head against her shoulder.

“I saw the test.” Sevika said in your ear, her voice low.

“I would love to do the ‘do we keep it or get rid of it’ fight but I'm tired.” You said, your voice a mixture of playfulness and genuine sleepiness.

“I get you, baby. And of course, we're keeping it.” Sevika snapped at you with the last words, laying you down slowly, “So now there's a little baby girl or a boy in here.” Sevika placed her flesh arm under your shirt and on your bare stomach.

“Right now it looks just about as good as a bean.” you laughed and sighed a little. Sevika's eyes trailed down on your form. You were wearing a grey T-shirt and shorts underneath.

Sevika smirked, leaning down and pressing her bulge against the curve of your ass “Mmmph…” you said something incoherently against the pillow before turning around, and letting Sevika's clothed cock rest against your heat instead. And that really was enough.

“You did that on purpose.” Sevika grumbled.

“You're hard.” You stated matter-of-factly and then giggled, “What about me being pregnant gets you hard?” You asked as you ground your pussy against her cock, the only thing in between being the clothing.

“Guess the mere fact that I can put another one in you.” Sevika said, unbuckling her belt and letting her pants fall. Instantly, her length slapped up against her stomach leaking precum. “Oooh…” you grinned.

Sevika pulled your pants down along with your panties. “Want me to pump you full of my seed again?”

“Yes, daddy.” You gasped feeling her shove in her length inside, your cunt was tight around her invading length.

“Still so tight.” Sevika said before leaning down to leave hickeys on your neck. “G-gosh…” Sevika mumbled against your neck before starting to move in slow deep thrusts.

“Daddy, it feels so full.” You said grabbing the sheets tightly and hips raised up to meet her thrusts.

Sevika pushed you back down as she started pounding harder making the bed creak under the pressure. Her hands were holding yours over your head as she bit her bottom lip.

“C'mon, you want my cum in you, don't you, doll?” Sevika said as she continued pounding. Her length felt huge in you, the imprint noticeable from outside as you moaned loudly.

“Daddy, please, yes I do.” You said and Sevika crashed her lips against yours, biting your bottom lip and shoving her tongue inside your mouth.

Her cock was warm in your pussy, your juices mixing with her precum, the tip of her dick hitting your cervix creating a weird sort of sensation that you dearly loved. “I'm cumming, please.” you cried out.

Sevika didn't say anything, her thrusts sloppier than before as she continued thrusting and grunted, shooting her thick ropes of semen deep in your womb.

“Ah!” Your head was thrown back as you squirted on her. “F-fuck…” you watched as Sevika pulled her cock out slowly.

“There, pumped full.” Sevika smirked, staring at your hole from where her semen was dripping out. “Come on, keep it inside.”

“I still can't believe we're gonna be parents.”

“If there wasn't a guarantee before, there is now.” Sevika laughed as did you.

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐒𝟏:𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏𝟒

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

As the day winds down in Nanami's office, Naaila's voice cuts through the hum of printers and shuffling papers, coming from the phone pressed to your cheek by your shoulder. Piles of paper occupy your hands as you teeter from one side of Nanami's office to the other. 

"So, what do you wanna do after work?" Naaila asks.

Pausing, you unload the paperweight onto a nearby surface. Leaning against the expansive window, you look out of the office window wall with a panoramic view of the city skyline.  The sunlight paints the room with a golden hue, causing a wave of sleepiness to slowly start to wash over you.

"Indian food sounds good to me," you suggest, breaking momentarily from the office's cinematic view. Seating yourself on one of the plush leather sofas tucked away in the corners of the office, you let the stress of work fly away, taking a moment to yourself. 

Naaila, being the sociable person she is has very different plans and means for the night. "What if," she starts, leaving a moment of silence to let her suggestion steep in the air, "we maybe went out tonight. You know, you and me, a little girl time." Naaila's liveliness and itch to party all night long heavily contrast with your laid-back nature. Your mind fills with countless instances to which you've been forced to go out just for the sake of her, but you don't mind it too much, it's all to make your best friend happy.

"I don't know, Naaila. I'm not feeling it tonight," you begin, your words met with her forceful interjection. 

"We haven't been out in ages," she whines like a toddler begging for a toy.

"Naaila, I—" She cuts you off again, determined to sway your decision.

"But we really need this, and it's been so long."

"I can't tonight."

"Is it because you're trying to impress your boss, or iare you really tired?" She presses.

"I genuinely can't." The printer, which has started being uncooperative too starts to aggrevate you. Your finger harshly punching the button on the machine. "Well, look at it this way. This is an opportunity for you to get back out there, and go on a date or two. " you suggest in an attempt to keep her happy.

There's a harshness in her voice when she tells you, "I don't want to go on a date."

"Ooh I see."

"See what? What do you see?"

"Ever since you've been hanging around that Gojo guy, you've been different. " you explain, a mischievous tone laced in your voice. 

"What do you mean different? I haven't been anything but the same."

Her defensive tone doesn't stop you from taunting her, "Well, you aren't even trying to go on a date for fun anymore. What happened to all those dating apps on your phone?" 

"They were taking up my storage and besides I told you."

"Hmm, sure," you tease, your persistence unwavering.

"You're insufferable."

"Love you too," You quip, a parting ding echoing through the phone as you end the call between the both of you. You turn around, face to face with the troublesome printer. A couple of beeps and boops before the printer flashes an irritating "ERROR" code, as if your day can't get even more irksome, it doesn't take long before your attention is torn away from it though. 

"Nanamin?" An unfamiliar voice, sounding alarmingly young for anyone in this building. Your head whips around and behind you stands three kids hovering around the door. The boy in front with pale pink hair and two other people peering from behind him. The boy's first words being 'Nanamin' catch you off guard, nearly missing it. 

"Who?" You ask but apparently, your words don't travel far, as they go back to talking amongst themselves.

"I told you he wasn't gonna be here." Another voice adds, a not-so-quiet 'tsk'  is said. 

"Who are you looking for?" You ask again.

"Nanami." Realisation dawns on you, clarifying why the boy mispronounced your boss's last name. 

"He went for a break. He'll be back—," you begin to explain, only to be interrupted by a new wave of confusion. "I'm sorry, how did you guys get in here?" The question lingers, as the puzzle of these three kids infiltrating the office without any challenge baffles you.

"We asked the people at the reception," the pink-haired boy replies nonchalantly.

"See guys, I told you we weren't meant to be here." A new unfamiliar voice adds.  The kids are still looming around the door, and feeling bad for kicking them out is not something you really want to have to deal with.

You motion for them to come into the office, "It's fine, you guys can just wait here till he arrives." The three kids walk further into the room, looking around the spacious place, with gold lining occasionally appearing. They soon find themselves seated on one of the plush couches past the partition in the room. Instead of spreading out, they all sit on the same one, probably not feeling comfortable enough to do so. Then silence.

 The trio venture further into the room, their eyes absorbing the lavish, gold linings which glisten underneath the sun's evening glow. They soon find themselves seated on one of the plush couches in the room. Instead of spreading out, they all sit on the same one, probably not feeling comfortable enough to do so. Then the room descended into silence.

As you resume your battle with the insufferable printer, the kids mirror your silence. As an adult, you should initiate small talk or spark a conversation to life to alleviate the awkwardness. But do you really have to be an adult all the time? Internally sighing, you clear your throat preparing to speak.

"So, like, are you his secretary?" The pink-haired boy breaks the silence, his voice carrying a youthful curiosity.

"Kinda, I'm his personal assistant," you clarify, pausing your task to actively listen to them.

"Ooh," Itadori sighed in understanding.

Curiosity gets the better of you and you blurt out the pressing question in your mind, "How do you guys know Mr. Nanami?" 

"He's friends with our teacher. " The girl present responds, her hand propping up her chin on the armrest and her bob-length brown hair falling in front of her face slightly.

"Is anyone even friends with him?" The last boy retorts, his scepticism echoing through the room. He sits, laid back, looking off distantly, a negative tilt to the corners of his mouth. 

"You guys don't like your teacher huh?" You chuckle a little, remembering the days you were in high school and despised your teachers. They all collectively chime in, a couple of " He's so annoying." or "He's so dumb." being the most distinguishable comments.

"You know what's so crazy, you look like some sort of celebrity." The brunette states, squinting her eyes at you. The pink-haired boy next to her exclaims explaining how he "thought that too." The two go back and forth naming celebrities you could look like. "What about ______ ?" The brunette looks at him dumbfounded.

"No she doesn't she- wait actually, 'cause they kinda have the same lips." she adds, the both of them attentively analysing your facial features, causing

 a warm flush to rise to your face from the unexpected spotlight.

"Kugisaki, Itadori stop suffocating her please." the two teens sit back, in synch, eyes still glued to you. You give a polite smile to the boy who offered to break it up. Before you can ask them another question, the door opens and in walks Mr. Nanami who steps back a little bit from surprise at seeing the teens in his office. 

"You're finally here Nanamin." The pink-haired boy says standing up and walking towards the confused blond, who just hums in response. Nanami looks at you and the two of you lock eyes from across the room.

"I see you've met Itadori and his friends," he remarks, now standing next to the boy.

"Well, yeah," you respond, a hint of hesitance lingering in your voice.

I guess I haven't met them entirely; I don't know their names.

"We totally forgot," the brunette admits. "My name is Kugisaki Nobara, he's Fushiguro Megumi, and he's Itadori Yuuji." You nod slowly

trying your best to keep everyone's names to memory.

"I'm L/N Y/N, pleasure to meet you all."

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[joaquinwhorres]

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.