#third son vibes
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rakofelo · 1 year ago
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I saw a post by @constantinnen about how Gale was originally supposed to be a Drow and I was immediately inspired. (Check out their amazing work here)
Here is my take on Gale of the Underdark.
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greasydumbfuck · 9 months ago
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watched the 2004 punisher movie yesterday with pixie and honestly i had fun 👍 some stuff was good some stuff was eh some completely irrelevant stuff made me mildly annoyed. but most of all it was funny and they had frank hang around with his tits out for multiple scenes so i mean how could i not have a great time tbh
#marvel#frank castle#the punisher#its also the movie that has the frame that i found like. on a wiki or something? and that pushed me down the punisher rabbithole#maybe im insane but i REALLY liked how frank looked in that movie. lost. confused. profoundly sad. bare chest glistening with sweat#whats not to like honestly. i also felt incredibly bad for thinking this the entire movie because im actually going. a little insane#like lately i just feel generally bad for liking frank in that way at all. as in both romantic and sexual. just. im sorry frank really#so the entire movie id hide my face in my hands every couple of minutes going 'oh god hes so hot im so sorry hes so hot im sorry'#what the fuck is this kid doing#anyway the thing i also liked on a more serious note was that the death of maria and his son was dragged out#because it like. like it kept going. and going. and with every second we both just felt this sense of like. dread and helplessness yk#like you KNOW theyre going to die anyway. and yet you watch them struggle and. its such a specific emotion#my least favorite horror story from a book i had invoked the same emotion in me but worse#and it was called sth like 'the torture of hope' so like. thats the best description i can give#also the thing that annoyed me for no reason was joan being blonde. why is she BLONDEEEEE#SHE JUST LOOKS LIKE MARIA LIGHT THIS IS SO. STUPID#also poor third neighbour but i assume in this movie he had the same role as in the comic (none) because its the 2004 one#i liked daves vibe. seemed like the type of guy my friend karol would have us smoke weed with on her birthday#and also he was just like me fr
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thelastspeecher · 9 months ago
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I read the latest Percy Jackson books and THEN I reread the Heroes of Olympus series and THEN I read the Kane Chronicles/Percy Jackson crossover short stories
and I have one conclusion
which is that Percy and Annabeth are SO CUTE TOGETHER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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svtskneecaps · 2 years ago
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i'm mourning the loss of purgatory's Government Assigned Team Dynamics (because i'm a sucker for shaking up dynamics and the forced interactions of people who may not otherwise have spoken) so please indulge me with your dream egg parenting group i'll start, bagi tina and rivers [i'm right]
#qsmp#i have REASONS okay it's more than vibes#first of all any good egg polycule needs its touchstone its Daily Logger someone who can be relied on to KEEP THE DAMN THING FROM DYING#(of neglect specifically)#bagi logs in every weekday she's extremely consistent and she's already proven to be smitten with these eggs. bagi's the touchstone#tina's a 'wobbler'; she's consistent but not a daily logger so she can be relied on if bagi's out for a week#between the two of them i have full faith they can keep the kid from neglect and spoil the kid to pieces#but vic you might say what about rivers wouldn't she just be third wheeling on bagina WRONG#well maybe right but WRONG because eggs have personalities of their own!!!! they're little people!!!!#if rivers is third wheeling then SO IS THE EGG THEY'RE IN THIS TOGETHER#anyway rivers at least at the moment is what i like to call a Wildcard#when she does or doesn't log in is pretty random and sporadic and inconsistent#that might change if she had an egg idk i don't know enough about her because she's a WILDCARD 😭#but anyway having bagi and tina as reliably keeping their kid from dying of neglect means she's free to keep her stream schedule#considering bagi interacting with egg trump at dia de muertos i think we can safely say she's not going to let rivers be erased as parent#probably would function like a roier-jaiden situation; bobby wasn't any less jaiden's son even though she didn't log as consistently as roi#AND IT WOULD FORCE RIVERS TO INTERACT WITH THE SERVER. I MISS HER DAMNIT. MY SPANISH ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH AND I MISS HER.#shut up vic#block game brainrot#but yeah rivers can keep her streaming schedule and still come to hang out with her egg kid when she's able#i lost the plot there bc tumblr's glitching on my phone bc it updated ios last night and everything's bugged to hell#i can't see tags after i write them it's wack as fuck#my secret secondary take is tubbo and pol have to be in the same government assigned parent group#tubbo seems to function better as weird uncle / fun godparent so having pol there is him as TUBBO'S touchstone in terms of the mature one#then tubbo and pol as consistent loggers can be the rest of the group's touchstone in terms of the kid not dying to neglect#long tags
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oathtorn · 2 years ago
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// "my friend minthara is the funniest person i know" can totally be an honest compliment if you have a dark enough sense of humor
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woonderfullie · 2 years ago
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Look the thought of nearly every adult that knew the Phantomhive twins pre-terrible month knowing that O!Ciel was an imposter from the beginning but just not saying anything is just a vibe to me.
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fictionalcharacters-mybeloved · 3 months ago
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(Be) Satisfied, Danny.
Danny didn't have a good life, he didn't notice it until he grew up, of course, but he noticed it.
He noticed when Tucker's parents did remember his birthday (while his parents were still in the basement, creating the most important thing in their lives).
He noticed it when it was Jazz who healed his wounds when his bullies were especially cruel (and his parents were still in the basement).
He noticed it when he spent hours lost in one of the most dangerous cities in America and the only one who cared (and noticed his disappearance) was Jazz.
And so many more things, Danny noticed all the time that his life was not good, but he had good things.
He had Jazz, space, Tucker, Sam and, at a time that is now a bittersweet and painful memory, he met Bruce.
He knew that talking to and trusting strangers was bad (after Bruce told him so and Jazz repeated it to him), but it was easy to trust Bruce.
He was someone nice who listened to him prattle on for hours about the stars, planets, Nasa and space in general, listened to him with such attention and interest that he just kept talking until somehow they got to his hotel and Bruce left him with Jazz.
Of course, little Danny wasn't about to let his wonderful audience disappear from his. Life so soon after they met, and after quite a bit of insisting (and some crying), they stayed in contact.
Danny kept growing up, of course, and Phantom happened, because he thought meeting Bruce meant life would get better from there, but no, he only had momentary peace.
Bruce noticed his change in behavior (unlike his parents), Bruce who had a life of his own and several children he obviously loved more than anything (not that Danny is jealous of that, not at all), but he noticed the change in Danny.
"I don't even know why I can't-I just-" Danny doesn't finish speaking, she couldn't, not yet. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me." His voice was tearful and shaky.
There is silence on the other end of the call for a few seconds, until Bruce's voice is heard. "You want to talk to me about constellations?" He asks quietly, non-judgmental, non-pushy.
And of course, Danny talks to him for hours about the stars, the shapes of the constellations, their names and their stories, forgetting for brief, wonderful hours everything else, just like when he was ten, and just like at that time, Bruce listened to him as if it was completely new information, as if he didn't already know all that.
Bruce was like... not a father, but like a male figure in his life whom he valued very much.
Danny was not blind, he knew Bruce was not perfect, even if they could only communicate by phone, they had had little disagreements here and there, but they did not walk away, because Bruce listened to him and did not immediately dismiss his words, because he wanted to improve, because Bruce was trying for Danny, and wasn't that a wonderful thought?
Of course, when he was finally planning to tell Bruce about Phantom is when it all goes to shit.
Losing everyone you love and having to run and hide from a freak so you don't turn into a bloodthirsty monster was, to say the least, fucking horrible.
Danny remembers the pain, the feeling of choking, the lump in his throat that wouldn't let him speak, the disbelief, the agonizing need to just disappear, Danny just wanted to close his eyes and die like his family and friends and-
And then his phone rang.
Bruce always had to show up when Danny was lost, right?
He doesn't even remember what he told him on the call or how he spoke in the first place, only that after four years he had Bruce in front of him, talking and promising that he would help him, that he would take care of everything, that he wasn't alone, not anymore.
Of course living in Gotham was quite an adjustment, the moving process made him cry several times, lately he would cry over anything and it was horrible, however, lately he also had Bruce there with him.
They still talked on the phone quite a bit, but now Bruce could also visit him, hug him, comfort him on a particularly difficult day.
Sometimes Bruce would talk to him about what it was like when he lost his parents, about when he lost one of his sons, sometimes they would both end up crying, but they were together and it eased the pain a little.
Speaking in a soft, gentle voice, Bruce would say that the pain would become more tolerable and that one day it would stop tarnishing the good memories, that someday he could put the pictures back on the shelves, that eating would no longer be horrible because eating meat would no longer feel like betrayal and eating vegetarian food wouldn't hurt, that someday he could open a tech magazine and play video games without feeling like he'd never enjoy anything again, that someday he could stop seeing his sister in every redheaded girl he saw on the streets, and that while that was happening, Bruce would be there for him.
And although the pain remained horrible, it became bearable.
There were good days and bad days, but he enjoyed when Bruce could visit.
Danny knew Bruce kept it from his sons more for what he didn't say than what he did say, but he understood and actually preferred it that way, because when Bruce came to the apartment they could both pretend to be father and son (not that they called each other that), without irreparable mistakes or painful loss, at least on particularly good days.
Danny also felt that he was special, that someone preferred him, that plain, boring Danny Fenton was special (even if he wasn't).
Life, for the first time, wasn't bad, it wasn't good either, the pain sometimes wanted to consume him completely some days, he still cried most nights but also... he felt accompanied, loved.
Obviously he felt loved before, his sister, his friends, he knew they loved him, but with Bruce he also felt understood.
He felt (and knew) that Bruce saw him, that he saw the little, idiotic, pathetic, troubled Danny Fenton and decided he was worth it, that when he found out about 'Phantom' he only talked about helping him hide it and, when some time passed, about how smart and talented he was in learning to handle his powers without guidance, that Danny was special because of who he was even before Phantom, powers were nothing without brain, that Phantom was what he was because of the guy behind it.
In turn, Danny saw (and understood) Bruce, the man was always overly worried about those he loves, every little thing, and he was smart, he worried and his treacherous brain wouldn't leave him alone (and that was painfully similar to Jazz).
How could he ask him not to worry when he already found a thousand ways for everything to go wrong and for him to be the one to ruin it?
How could he judge him now that he also knew how much it hurt to lose the ones you love?
So they would talk, it wasn't always easy because Danny was used to not being given so much attention and Bruce could be too controlling, but... well, talking helped a lot, because because they listened to each other, apologizing was easy after talking.
They almost always ended up watching B movies and judging them after they made up, or watching documentaries, because watching them with Bruce was interesting, he always had things to add, interesting fun facts that Bruce enjoyed saying and Danny enjoyed listening to.
Bruce was trying so hard and always seemed to feel it wasn't enough, that Danny couldn't help but resent his sons (the real ones) a little.
Danny knew they were not bad, Bruce always spoke of them with love and so, so much pride, it was always Bruce who was to blame for everything, the bad guy, the villain of the situation...
To Bruce his sons deserved a better father, but if anyone asked Danny, Bruce deserved a better family.
Say no to this, Bruce.
A few days ago Bruce had a fight with his sons, now he doesn't even remember why, it was probably something stupid that escalated and he didn't know how to stop it, it was probably his fault.
He was alone at the mansion, Damian was at Dick's house, Jason was ignoring him more than usual and Tim was on a case where he didn't want help, not from him at least, even Duke was away, it wasn't a good week for Bruce.
He grabbed a phone he had hidden and only took out before going to sleep alone in his room, hesitated for a few seconds and sent a message to the only number added.
His "thing" with the boy, Danny Fenton, had started four years ago, the boy was lost and Bruce found him when he coincidentally went for a walk as a civilian.
Danny was so charmed by Bruce (for some reason) that he gave him his hotel room number to keep talking about the universe, and later his home number.
Danny was a good, funny and witty kid, a very smart too, with parents who didn't deserve him because they didn't notice their son's brilliance.
Danny was a good boy with a not-so-good life, a strong, independent boy who wasn't always positive but didn't always let himself fall apart.
That's why when Danny answered his message with a call with him crying and asking for help, he could only go to his rescue without looking back, barely remembering to tell Alfred of his departure.
When he arrived he found only tragedy.
His family and friends had died, an explosion at an unfortunate time, Danny had no one in the world besides his godfather and Bruce, and he didn't want to fall into Vlad's clutches, so he was desperate.
He also told him about Phantom, and Bruce could only hug him and promise him that no one was going to find him.
The first thing that came to his mind was to take him to his mansion, Danny was like his son, it was the most logical action... except that Danny still looked up to him and trusted him a lot, and wasn't that a scary thought?
Bringing Danny to the mansion would involve many things, Danny would meet his children, which might make Danny see him differently, goodbye to his admiration and affection, goodbye to spending time "together" watching bad movies to criticize them, goodbye to quiet conversations and asking for advice, goodbye to trust.
Bringing Danny to the mansion would mean having him physically close but keeping him away in every other possible way.
"Danny doesn't want anyone else to know about Phantom." Bruce repeated to himself as he took Danny to a small, hidden apartment in Gotham, a cozy little place where Vlad wouldn't find Danny (and neither would Bruce's family).
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enigmaris · 7 months ago
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Danny Kills the Joker AU
Danny is on the run in gotham, as you do in dpxdc fics. His parents are dead and he is trying to stay out of Vlad's custody. Gotham has plenty of ectoplasm to hide his ecto signature. It also has a high enough population of homeless people that no one would even notice Danny just showing up.
He's been living rough in gotham, mostly sticking to Crime Alley and The Narrows, sleeping in abandoned buildings or in relatively clean parts of the sewer system. He eats what he can find and does his best never to be seen.
Not good enough since he along with like 30 other street kids get picked up by joker goons and tied up. Joker is planning an explosive party for the city to watch and he needed guests. Joker literally set up bombs of joker gas around the city that will go off and send the entire city into pandemonium, killing millions. The only way to stop the bombs is to kill his guests (homeless kids from Crime Alley) which the city can vote on. Kill themselves or kill kids.
Danny is sitting at the edge of the group, listening as Joker televises his new plan to the entire city.
He really, really hates clowns.
He is also not gonna let this guy kill all of these kids. He may not be a hero anymore but those protection instincts didnt die with his parents.
And also fuck that clown.
He phases through his bonds, and then starts asking the various kids to borrow their hat, gloves, and scarf. Gotham street kids take one look at this out of town kid and mentally wish him luck while planning out his funeral. They keep on acting terrified because as stupid as this kid is being, they're not snitches either.
Danny puts on the borrowed clothes to hide his face and hair. He can't be identified, or Vlad is gonna be on his ass tomorrow. Once fully covered he gets up and into view of the camera. The Joker notices him, turns around to laugh and jeer at him. Probably shoot him for being impolite and interrupting him. Danny doesnt even pause just walks right up to the clown and coldcocks him.
Based on the sound of bones snapping Danny admits he might have punched a little too hard. Danny checks the Jokers pulse and immediately panics. Danny has Batman levels of fear around killing and he is panicking about becoming Dan.
"Holy Shit I killed him!" He says, to the entire city because the camera is still rolling.
Cue:
Danny running for his life, trying to hide away from his fear and guilt.
Red Hood becoming like his dad and drawing up mental adoption papers
Harley Quinn also drawing up adoption papers, paper ones, while Poison Ivy changes their home's 'no boys allowed' banner to 'son boy allowed'
Jokers goons trying to find Danny to kill him for killing their boss
City wide pandemonium as the jokers death is confirmed and people are partying in the streets, the mayor is planning on giving the street kid who did it the key to the fucking city
The batfam trying to find Danny to protect him from Jokers Goons (Bruce is third in line for custody not that he knows he is gonna have to fight both Harley and Jason for the honor)
The crime alley kids are still not snitching on the kid who saved them. Anyone who asks them about Danny only respond with 'what are you a cop? Fuck off pig'
Vlad Masters, as someone who has been punched by Danny, immediately recognizes the punch and flies to Gotham to find his wayward 'son'.
Vlad even meets with Brucie Wayne to ask for help in finding Danny. Bruce gets bad vibes from Vlad and is even more invested in finding Danny. The boy has dark hair, blue eyes, and a tragic orphan backstory. Its fate!
Danny meanwhile is hiding in some sewer somewhere breathing into a paper bag as he panics about becoming a world ending threat.
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edwardseymour · 1 year ago
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I would say that I probably like Anne Boleyn more than you (in the sense that she interests me more), but I definitely agree with you on a lot of your points you’ve made about her fans and their weird subculture. Like why in every Tudor AU that I read is Anne and Henry in this epic love story that lasts longer than in real life simply because she has sons. I don’t think Anne and Henry would have gotten together under any other circumstances than those of real life (like if he was some random second son and Arthur was King, there is no way she would be in his vicinity), and I don’t think that that’s a happy ending for her. This poor woman was killed on the order of her husband, and now her fans want her to have stayed in that abusive marriage for eternity. The greatest thing Anne Boleyn could do in some of these writer’s eyes is have a son, like that’s her one major accomplishment she needed to fulfill. Ugh.
in all honesty, anne’s subculture fascinates me more than the woman, herself. it’s such a unique phenomenon, i can’t really think of an equivalent — the closest might be marie antoinette or the romanov girls, but the nature of their popularity just isn’t the same, and i don’t think they are commercialised in quite the same way.
and i mean, generally AUs just don’t do anything for me. but i find any AU where the wife is simply made to be a politically inactive broodmare, stripped of personhood so

it’s not a unique thing with regards to anne by any stretch (and i know of other AUs that have her marry the king of france (đŸ„Ž) or become regent after henry dies in the jousting tournament) but it is weird when it happens with her and is juxtaposed with posts gushing about anne’s unique personality/power.
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hello-from-nrc-infirmary · 4 months ago
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*Vern hums as he steps over to the bed and passes Silver a cup of water from the nightstand*
Here... this should help a bit...
*he glances at the time, nerves and panic spiking. He doesn't seem to notice the small growl from his own stomach*
I um.. I'm running late... okay.. umm... do you want to come with? If not, I can um.. have Shirley show you around..?
Pam? Where are the um... mandrake leaves?
(Oh, uh... I think the last of them were used when you were sleeping that illness off the other day)
I'll umm.. go see about getting some extra from the alchemy lab. Remember to um... quite it down next time
(Okay! Take your lunch, too!)
*Vern nods as he leaves the infirmary. He's behind on several tasks today, so perhaps he will stop by Sam's or see if he can grab something light to go in the cafeteria. The sun is warm and welcoming today.*
*his phone rings a familiar tone. Vern's stomach drops as he takes a breath before answering*
Hello...
Hey, Sweetheart. A little birdie came back.. anything you want to tell me?
*Vern visibly pales, unable to make a sound*
Mmm... there will be a meeting tomorrow, mandatory for founders. I'll see you there.
*Vern's stomach churns, even as the call is ended. He... will need some more magic stored up. Taking an unsteady breath, he quickly types, deletes, retypes, and sends a text to Silver*
Text: "Aster... something came up and I won't be around campus tonight or tomorrow"
*it's vague, but he hopes it won't worry Silver too much... Skipping lunch, he sends a crocus back to Pam with some spare mandrake leaves, and hurries of to go pack a few things. He'll have to take Koa*
@aurora-retainer-silver
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emotional-piece-of-meat · 9 months ago
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Idk if there's any canon information about it, but I like to think that Bruce gave his children not only room but the whole floor. 
Dick lived on the seventh floor, because he likes to be on top, and even after he moved out the floor remained his.
Cass took the first floor, because she feels the most comfortable on the ground and she likes the idea of protecting her family, since all intruders have to get through her first. 
Jason was on the fourth floor because Wayne's library is also there, after his death Bruce avoided this floor, after his resurrection Bruce still refuses to change anything there. 
Tim got the fifth floor, he originally planned to take Jason's floor for a reasonℱ, but Bruce truly did not vibe with it, so the fifth was the closest he was allowed to take. 
Damian shares the third floor with Bruce, they told him it was because he was the blood son, but actually it's because Bruce wants to keep an eye on this tiny baby.
Duke kind of had to settle for the sixth, because all others were taken, but he doesn't complain because “holy shit I have my own floor?”
The second floor belongs to Alfred, he used to live on the third when Bruce was little, but later moved on to the second to subtly look after this manchild.
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kxsagi · 28 days ago
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seishu is the best ipad baby confirmed. he's such a fat little duck i want moree
“𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐬𝐡𝐼 đšđ„đšđ§đž 𝐭𝐱𝐩𝐞”
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a/n: i agree, take these drafts
comes with two stories!
you kiss nagi once, then kiss your squishy, sleepy one-year-old son seishu twice, one for each cheek, before grabbing your bag. 
“you’re sure you’ll be fine?” you ask, standing in the doorway. 
“mm. yeah,” nagi mumbles from the couch, already horizontal with seishu chilling on his stomach like a tiny warm rice cooker. “we’ll vibe.” 
you narrow your eyes. “sei. this isn’t ‘vibing.’ this is keeping a human child alive.” 
“same thing,” he replies, eyes barely open. “we’ll be cool. right, little dude?” 
seishu lets out a high-pitched raspberry that lands squarely on nagi’s chin. nagi doesn’t flinch. he just gives you a thumbs up. 
against your better judgment, you leave. 
only two hours later, your phone is blowing up with texts: 
sei đŸ€
um 
what do babies eat again 
is milk too boring 
he looked at my pizza like he wanted it 
i didn’t give it to him 
but he looked really serious 
sei đŸ€
update: gave him a tiny piece 
update 2: he threw it at the tv 
update 3: it’s still stuck there 
you sigh and call him. he picks up on the third ring. 
“hi, babe,” he says, voice a little too calm. 
“how’s it going?” you ask suspiciously. 
“good. great. amazing. our son’s a genius.” 
you hear screaming in the background. 
“why is he screaming?” 
“he figured out how to open the snack drawer and now he won’t stop eating puffs like he’s going to war.” 
“sei!!!” 
“also, uh
 he might have peed on the rug.” 
“what?!” 
“okay, but hear me out: he was crawling fast and i was almost fast enough to catch him with the diaper, but he rolled like five times and then laughed at me.” 
you can hear the existential crisis in his voice. and you’re trying not to laugh. 
“where is he now?” you ask. 
“in a laundry basket.” 
“
 a what.” 
“i panicked. he was trying to climb the coffee table and i thought, ‘what’s the opposite of climbing?’ boom. containment.” 
you rub your temples. “sei, you can’t just put him in a basket like laundry.” 
“he likes it. he’s treating it like a spaceship. he’s not crying or anything. he made a sound like vroooom.” 
“babies don’t say ‘vroom.’” 
“ours does.” 
when you finally get home, the living room looks like a warzone. baby snacks everywhere. the TV is playing something called baby shark extreme metal edition. the pizza is still stuck to the wall. 
nagi is asleep on the floor. seishu is also asleep. inside the laundry basket. clutching your hoodie like a comfort blanket. 
you stare. blink. then sigh, a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. 
nagi cracks one eye open and mutters, “he’s still alive. i think that counts as a win.” 
“you put my son in a basket.” 
“you left me unsupervised.” 
“
 fair.” 
you kneel and pick up your little spaceship captain. he stirs, then settles into your shoulder with a sleepy sigh and a puff of pizza breath. 
“how was it?” you whisper. 
nagi, flat on the floor, raises a weak fist in the air. “ten out of ten. would dad again.” 
you chuckle and shake your head. 
“next time,” you say, “i’m leaving you both with my mom.” 
nagi’s eyes fly open. 
“no,” he whispers in horror. “please. not the boss level.” 
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â€œđ«đąđœđĄ 𝐛𝐹đČ 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 đĄđźđŠđ›đ„đžđâ€
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you’d like to believe you were mentally prepared when reo mikage said he was “dropping by” to meet your baby, but in hindsight, you should’ve known better. the doorbell rings – not chimes, rings, like a baby jazz concert – because reo reprogrammed it last time to “sound more luxury.” nagi’s already holding seishu under one arm like a sack of potatoes and looks you dead in the eye. “if he says the words ‘baby’s first AMEX,’ i’m leaving.” 
you open the door and immediately regret it. reo strolls in wearing designer everything, probably even the socks, and holding a gift bag the size of a microwave. “HELLOOOO!” he announces like he’s entering a stage, “i brought presents for the heir to the nagi empire!” 
“he’s one,” nagi says flatly. “he can’t read. or walk straight. yesterday he drooled on the TV remote and changed the language to portuguese.” 
reo gasps theatrically when he sees the baby. “oh my gosh. he is nagi, just compressed and squishier.” seishu, ever the cautious baby, narrows his eyes at reo like he’s trying to decide if this is a threat or a snack delivery man. reo crouches and pulls out the “gift” – a toddler-sized gucci tracksuit – and seishu, maintaining intense eye contact, slaps it out of his hands like a bouncer denying entry. 
nagi doesn’t even flinch. “yeah. he does that.” 
“he just rejected couture,” reo mutters, stunned. 
“he likes cardboard boxes more than toys. money means nothing to him. he’s an anarchist,” you shrug, watching your son now try to eat a sock he pulled off his own foot. 
reo’s determined though. “let me hold him,” he says, and you pass seishu over. instantly, seishu latches onto reo’s perfectly styled shirt with one hand and shoves two fingers into his mouth with the other. reo blinks. “he’s tasting me.” 
“congratulations,” nagi deadpans. “you’re a snack.” 
reo walks around, baby on one hip like he’s carrying a designer purse that makes noise and smells faintly of milk. seishu’s little legs are dangling. his fingers are wrapped around a button on reo’s shirt, which, fun fact: costs more than your fridge. 
“this is going great,” reo lies, seconds before seishu sneezes directly into his mouth. 
there’s a full five seconds of stunned silence. 
“it’s okay,” reo finally says, eyes glazed. “babies are pure. my mouth is holy now. blessed.” 
nagi tosses him a napkin like he’s throwing scraps to a fallen comrade. “he does that when he trusts you.” 
“i’m honored,” reo says, wiping his mouth while seishu giggles like he just told the funniest joke in the world. 
eventually, they both fall asleep on the couch: reo sprawled dramatically with his head tilted back, seishu starfished across his chest, gripping another one of reo’s buttons like it’s a pacifier. nagi takes a picture with no hesitation. 
“you’re going to let reo see it?” you ask. 
“no,” he says. “but it’s funny.” 
you look at the two of them again – your baby and his very expensive, very emotionally defeated uncle, and grin. 
reo might’ve walked in with gucci and confidence, but he’s leaving with drool on his shirt and a suspicious case of baby fever. 
© đ€đ±đŹđšđ đą
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months ago
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The Neighbor’s Boy is
Odd
A piece from a collection of shorts inspired by Junjo Ito. Enjoy.đŸ–€
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It started when you were welcomed by the Okana family, next door. You had just moved in and the welcome wagon was in full swing. They seemed like a happy bunch, all with blonde hair with brown highlights and wide smiles save for their youngest son. He had red hair
not the orangish kind most would but like a burgundy. He was not that much younger than his brother and had to be in middle school. Which is why you tried to excuse the consistently weird vibe you’d get from him.
“Oi Toichi be respectful to the new neighbor,” his brother scolded him first.
Next, his sister chimed, “Yeah Toichi pass them the cookies we made for them!”
The boy seemed to shuffle anxiously. Blackish brown eyes darting between you and the cookies. When his gaze lingered you smiled and waved. Poor kid was probably frightened by you, reminding you of those nervous kindergartners who are shy in the beginning.
“Hi, are you Toichi? My name is (Y/n) and I’m your new neighbor! So happy to be friends with you!”
The poor kid turned red, bowing his head
.and taking off with the cookies in hand. 
“Toichi! You’re so rude! Get back here!” 
“I’m telling Mom and Dad you took the gift for the neighbors!”
You held back your laughter as the siblings chased one another far from view. Chalking up that encounter to first-meeting jitters felt right. Perhaps your uneasy feeling was unreasonable and Toichi was truly just as pleasant as the rest of your family.
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“Did you hear poor Miss Benson down the street had some cookies with nails in it!”
“Oh, how awful is she alright?”
“She’ll be fine she didn’t bite into any of them, it was the rust that poisoned her.”
“How cruel! That’s just terrible! I bet it was those delinquents, the devils.”
It couldn’t be. 
It had to be a mere coincidence. A small coincidence that the cookies Missus Okana slaved over never did get to you and that
odd little boy seemed so nervous to hand the basket over. You hoped it was, so you couldn’t hold it against him when you found him in your yard. The fence was a little over your second-floor windows, unusually high but you figured your gardens might be the interest for scrounging pests. Which had you questioning how on Earth you came home to Toichi knee-deep in the dirt.
“Uh hi Toichi.”
“Eeek!”
He genuinely seemed surprised that you were home. Still dressed in your work attire, you decided not to startle him anymore. It was oddly relaxing instead of marinating in the silence of your garden to navigate the soft-spoken neighbor kid. 
“Would you like some tea or some snacks?”
The boy once again turned red barely nodding his little head before turning away. You chuckled at his bashful before retreating inside to get said tea and treats. It was nice to host for little Toichi certainly less conversation but you didn’t mind. 
But for good measure, you figured you’d let the family next door know their little one was safe and sound.
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Curse Them!!!
Curse them for that bright smile! Never before have I suffered an active buffer to my curses. Already three of my brilliant curses were thwarted! The first curse was brilliant until their intervention! It was the perfect revenge for frightening me with their
.nice face. A cursed gift is what I left the skull of a pesky mouse on their doorstep a lovely little symbol for this new neighbor. But alas I was thwarted by the stray cat that visits them every night, the pesky creature pulled and scratched at the wrapping before dragging it away. I tried to retrieve it but the feline must have been bakaneko with how painful the scratches they inflicted on me
but I was—am unphased!
My next scheme was even more grand! I snatched the sliced fruit they gifted the family in return. Though I’d endured protection from their smile with shielding glasses, but I neglected to use ear plugs to combat their enchanting voice. Surely they are not at all like the usual malevolent forces but for my third attempt I figured I’d have to try! I consulted with the forces beyond when it came to their frequent visitors who dared to bring attention to my hiding place among their bushes! My spirit contact suggested I directly summon them to deal with this problem, but when the demon was summoned all they did was posses the mailman and get invited inside! I wanted to do that!
Clearly on my own the best I could do was put a cursed object in their garden. The object was an extension of myself, the perfect tool to find their weaknesses and destroy them once and for all. Once the full moon rose it would gain all it’s functions and be the perfect puppet, but for now it’s eyes were all that could be used. And with the perfect timing it would prove to be their demise!
“Hey Toichi you alright with cheese crackers?”
Of course I nodded keeping my eyes far from theirs. My puppet was already in place now all I needed to do was leave and activate the puppet so that I could–
“Here you are! Let me know if you need anything else, huni!”
Oh no! They’re vocal enchantments! The earplugs were taken out to avoid detection and now I’m paying the price! As their hex entails my cheeks are red with the blood boiling it causes forcing my heart to beat so much faster. Along with the sweat induced that allows them to collect my cursed essence to bend me to their will! Though I assume that must be the power of this
new mysterious entity. It draws me in, inviting me to stay with it’s infinite power. Looking out the window at the small pile of raised dirt, I began to envy the puppet. Maybe I can–
“TOICHI! Are you bothering our neighbor!”
Curse this wretch of an older brother! I’ll forever hate all his entire existence! HE’S RUINING EVERYTHING! STUPID OLDER BROTHER! AFTER I VANQUISH THEM I’LL TURN YOU INTO A COCKROACH SO I CAN SQUASH YOU, ROAST YOU AND FEED YOU TO THAT STUPID, MANGY,TWISTED C–
“Oh Toichi before you go! Here’s your doll you buried and the extra cookies. See you later!”





.There truly was no hope with this horror
.
Well if you can’t beat them they say to join.
Perhaps he’d have to rethink his allegiance to the spirits in the attic sometime.
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visenyaism · 4 months ago
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top ten clinically depressed asoiafers
I don’t think anyone ever wrote out the Westerosi DSM but I’ll take a crack at it.
Honorable Mention- Mance Raider and Qhorin Halfhand. We don’t get enough to make a full conclusion because it’s not important to Jon’s story so this is just a vibe but I feel it strongly.
10. Rhaena the Lesbian- like one of two actually great fire and blood characters. Convalescing in Harrenhal for like a decade after her wife left her and her third husband killed all her girlfriends plus she was one dead kid and one dead mother down. Kind of epic. Should have survived long enough to be weird and bitter to Jaehaerys’ insane children.
9. Daemon Targaryen- hey speaking of killing yourself in Harrenhal. Him never being happy with what he had or knowing what he wanted beyond getting his big brother to be proud of him so he just had to constantly chase dopamine in the form of insane levels of violence grooming teenagers and getting his cop frat brother employees to like him for money. Chemical imbalance with a body count in the thousands for his last midlife crisis wife leaving teenager grooming riverlands murder suicide bender alone.
8. Rhaegar Targaryen- Hey speaking of making your clinical depression everyone else’s problem at Harrenhal leading to the death of thousands. Why do people keep letting them do this is the question. Could estrogen have saved her is the second realer question
7. Lysa Arryn. Free her.
6. Daeron the Drunken- what if you were HAUNTED by PROPHETIC DREAMS that were only BAD and spelled the death and doom of your ENTIRE FAMILY and you COULDNT ESCAPE THEM except through SUBSTANCES and you were also the HEIR and your DAD was so DISAPPOINTED IN YOU and you had to take your RUDE and disrespectful plucky BABY KING ARTHUR brother to the CIRCUS and he was TEN and BALD and picked up by the hedge knight you DREAMED OF because he is going to INSTIGATE TO THE ETERNAL MISERY OF YOUR FAMILY a little bit on accident because you are DRUNK. NO HOPE. also honorable mention to post-fratricide Maekar who just locks himself in summerhall for years and post-treason court hostage Daemon II Blackfyre. I hope he and Daeron got brunch.
5. Ned Stark- classic flavor original variant Father Depression. Things went wrong for him young that he will never explain to anyone ever and they form a veil that serves as a barrier between him and the world and everyone he loves. Poor Ned.
4. Stannis Baratheon. Never let himself enjoy anything ever. Melancholy from birth. Rude and extremely blunt with everyone. Smiles twice both at Davos. Anorexic. Bald. Who among us has not been there.
3. Alannys Harlaw Greyjoy- finding out that Theon and Asha have an alive mom who is a gothic horror attic wife who never recovered from the loss of her family to the point that she’s still asking when all her dead and missing sons are going to come home to her and then Theon comes home and does not visit her. Actually agonizing for me the reader
2. Jon Connington- I’m about to get real sincere with these last two because Dance was a really good book that hit at a pivotal time for me. Everything he is in the world to do is motivated by this deep and profound grief and repression that simultaneously makes him a worse person (hungry to commit war crimes) and his best self (dives into the river to save Tyrion contracting greyscale in the process, being as loving and supportive of a father to Young Griff as anyone really could possibly be in this series.) The fact that he is such a late-game addition but feels like a missing piece as a character because of the emotional weight he carries is really cool. I love all his chapters. Tried to grasp a star overreached and fell is so powerful.
1. Tyrion Lannister- I adore his dance with dragons chapters where after his big moment of patriarchal catharsis he is suicidal and misanthropic and an alcoholic and hurting himself and others. It is really compelling because sometimes people get worse. And yet this is interspersed with moments where he is confronted with real genuine danger or real genuine joy and he consistently chooses to be kind to others for no material gain. Like comforting Penny during the storm or tackling a Stone Man into the Rhoyne to to save Young Griff’s life. Arguably these moments do not outweigh all of the harm he is actively inflicting, but they do show that he is incorrect about his self concept that he’s a monster and is actually just a deeply hurt person who has been traumatized so profoundly and is struggling as a result of it.
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sortagaysortahigh · 1 month ago
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Garden | Joaquin Torres
A/N: Heyyyy yall guess who's finally back because a hispanic man had me barking at my TV again?! That's right, oh so secksi big lexi is here with a novel of a fic. Also big shoutout and thank you to my lover @love-chx for beta-ing this and just being a thirsty freak with me over this man. I wouldn't have finished this fic without u bb <3 Anyways if yall wanna thirst ab this man with me my inbox is always open to fellow whores like myself. Also CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS BOOM SHAKA LAKA YES GOD!!! This is also canon-divergent with a few small CABNW references, also this is named after Garden by SZA tee hee
Summary: Y/n Y/l/n and Joaquin Torres had spent their entire childhood together, but growing up meant growing apart, and when travesty after travesty struck the world, their paths couldn't have been more polarized. But sometimes paths are meant to be crossed again, and there's always a chance for change
Warnings: angst, THIRD PERSON POV, use of Y/N, forced super soldier serum injections (scene not depicted), mentions of murder, mentions of war crimes (not explicitly stated), readers kind of a bitch ngl, cursing, mentions of violence, mentions of burns/Joaquin literally being shot out of the sky, SMUT: hair pulling, minor neck grabbing/choking, spitting, hickies, bruises, kissing (with tongue omg), oral (m receiving + a lil ball worship if you squint), handjobs, unprotected P in V, creampie, swallowing, handj*bs, dirty talk, lowkey sub!joaquin dom!reader vibes
Word Count: 20.8k
Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader (reader has vague descriptions regarding having long-ish hair, but it's typically described to be braided/blown out/wavy post-braids, Joaquin does in fact stare at the reader's ass, but all booties matter purr, reader's great grandparents are also immigrants, non specified)
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(Given the opportunity I'd kiss him on the mouth) AS ALWAYS MINORS DNI!!!
Miami, circa 2005-2006
Summers in Miami were anything but forgiving, filled with the kind of heat that made people question their own sanity, in combination with high levels of humidity that left an almost sticky film on one’s skin. It was like hell sometimes.
Hurricane season was always rough too, storms that would rock through cities and towns along the coast.
The nicer neighborhoods always seemed better off after the Hurricanes, meanwhile smaller, poverty stricken areas were always left in the dust to fend for themselves. Sure the city and counties had done their best, but power outages lasted days, sometimes weeks, and entire businesses would be destroyed, and communities were left to rebuild things together.
That same sense of community is what had brought Y/n Y/l/n and Joaquin Torres together. He moved to Miami from Mexico a little over a year ago, coming to the United States in May of 2005 with his grandmother and mother. They’d left in hopes of finding something better for him, chasing the American Dream like many migrants south of the border often did.
It wasn’t an easy process, but with family and an established sense of structure in Miami, it made the process a bit smoother for the family.
The y/l/n family had been living in Miami for decades, having genuine roots and history in the neighborhood, they had always been strong community leaders. Constantly volunteering to help at the schools, preparing meals for their neighbors, hosting several block parties and barbecues throughout the summers, and most notably, always lending a helping hand when it came to anyone’s children.
They embodied the saying ‘it takes a village’. 
When the Torres family moved to the neighborhood, y/n’s mother was the first to introduce herself to them, offering to send her eldest sons over to help them move in, and even inviting them over for dinner ten minutes into meeting them.
That single action led Joaquin Torres to Y/n Y/l/n two days following his move, and it led to the both of them being inseparable for years, a friendship that started with her shoving him into the asphalt when he’d clearly cheated at street hockey then proceeded to lie about it.
She was the one to knock him down, and she was also the one to help him up and drag him up the street to her house, mumbling about how she was sorry for shoving him, and muttering to herself about him being a ‘wimp’ for ending up with bloody scrapes along his legs.
He also had watched her mother lecture her about how it was wrong of her to push him, and the moment he’d laughed, her mother started lecturing him. The concern laced harsh words easily flowing from the older woman’s mouth had his eyes wide, she’d even managed to throw a few Spanish words in the mix.
Sure he knew that she spoke Spanish, but he didn’t quite understand where her family was from. That was also another conversation her mother had with him a few months later when he’d pestered Y/n about why her family spoke Spanish if they didn’t exactly look hispanic. 
They’d been in Miami for generations, it made perfect sense that they’d known Spanish. 
She had also yelled at him, but to be completely honest, she wasn’t exactly the sweetest girl on the planet.
As a six year old, she was mean. Meaner than most, yet somehow she possessed her mother’s caring spirit, which led to her showing anyone she cared for the epitome of tough love.
The summer of 2006, the both of them had spent most of their time outside together, walking through the neighborhood, talking about anything and everything that would interest two seven year olds. She’d pestered him about his hair, stating that he needed a haircut because he looked like her Tia’s new puppy (the woman had been gifted a white fluffy terrier by her most recent boyfriend), and he’d responded by saying she looked like a tree from ‘Horton Hears a Who’ due to her large frizzy hair. 
Humidity was not a friend to either of them.
They’d also made a friendship pact that summer, they’d seen it in some random movie that his Abuela had rented from the local Blockbuster, and had decided that since they were already good friends, they’d both slice their palms with one of her dad’s razors, then shake.
Except they both ended up with deep cuts and had to be taken to the emergency room, where they had to foolishly explain that they’d not only schemed to steal her father’s razor, but had also gone through the process of cleaning it with a random bottle of isopropyl alcohol before slicing their palms to imitate a blood pact from a movie that they were probably too young to be watching.
Both of their mother’s yelled at them that night, at the same time. Then her father yelled at them both.
When they thought they were done being lectured, his Abuela yelled at them in Spanish.
That Summer they’d also gone to the beach with their families together, and her father had buried them both in the sand, leading to a photo of their heads and portions of their upper bodies sticking out while they both glared at the camera. 
When school had started back up, they were in the same class, which meant they’d caused quite the ruckus together, either laughing too loudly, talking way too much, or throwing things at one another. It was worse when their teacher tried to separate them, leading them to throw crumpled up paper balls at one another followed by miniature paper airplanes.
He’d also gotten into his first real fight with another boy two months into the school year, he’d called her names, pulled on one of her braids, and usually she would’ve responded, but her mother had recently told her that she needed to stop acting out in school.
So, like the good best friend he was, Joaquin didn’t hesitate to punch the other boy in the face at recess when he’d caught the kid pestering her. That decision also led to her high fiving him, and the both of them getting sent home and placed on a two day suspension.
Summer of 2017
The end of high school is a major milestone for many. Getting the opportunity to not only graduate, but graduate with honors was something that Y/n and Joaquin had worked incredibly hard to achieve, sure the both of them did run into several hiccups along the way, mainly surrounding Y/n’s need to get into fights and Joaquin’s need to constantly and consistently defend her. WAIT DONT FOCUS ON THAT HAHA I WASNT SURE IF THE COMMA WENT THERE
Most thought the two would’ve been together by now, having been friends for nearly ten years, not only friends, but the best of friends and practically inseparable, and yet they’d never crossed the line between friendship and something more. It wasn’t something that they’d planned on doing either.
Anytime their parents would talk about it, the both of them would swiftly deny the suggestion, looks of disgust on their faces as they looked at one another, then back at their families. It wasn’t until prom night that they’d both even considered seeing one another romantically.
They hadn’t acted on it, nor had they ever shared the thought with each other.
They’d gone together, mostly because his girlfriend had broken up with him at the last minute, or rather, y/n had forced her to break up with him after finding out that Julia had been cheating on him for a few weeks. She’d also threatened to ‘knock her front teeth in’ if she refused to do so. She’d also made sure that Joaquin knew that his now ex-girlfriend had been cheating on him, showing him a series of screenshots that a mutual friend had sent her.
When he showed up at her house in an all black tux, she’d been caught off guard. It was rare that Joaquin was dressed up, so rare that she almost didn’t recognize him, brows knit together as she stared at him from the front porch of her family’s home. 
She thought that he actually looked handsome. Sure, she’d always known that Joaquin wasn’t ugly, that much was obvious, but she’d never really given it a second thought. Not even when all of her friends would rant and rave about how ‘hot’ he was, or how he was super attractive and she was an idiot for not ‘jumping his bones’. 
He’d been growing his hair out a bit. It was slightly slicked back, but the curls along the back of his head were still defined. He held a corsage in his hand, the vibrant red roses sat in a sealed clear plastic box, and it matched the rose pin to his suit.
He’d been staring at her, his lips slightly parted, brows raised. At that exact moment he finally understood what all of his friends had said about her. The guys had always given him shit, saying that he was an absolute idiot for ignoring what was right in front of him. Some guys on the team had even asked him for his approval to ask her out; he’d always shrugged them off and said something along  the lines of ‘go for it, but good luck’.
She’d never really given anyone a chance, sure there were a few guys here and there, and that douchebag lifeguard last summer, but outside of that, Y/n rejected pretty much everyone.
It got to the point where their mothers had asked if she was gay, which was an incredibly uncomfortable conversation, to say the least.
He was still staring, he knew she’d be wearing black, which had made coordinating with her at the last minute a lot easier since he already had a black suit. But he didn’t know that she’d be wearing a satin black dress with a neckline that plunged enough to make him blush, the fabric itself hugging all of her curves, and her hair that was typically braided, was now blown out and framing her face perfectly.
He dropped the corsage, then scrambled to pick it back up.
Things had gone back to normal the second she’d mocked him for dropping it; they’d both snapped out of their own trances, and had taken a myriad of photos. Then they’d been off.
The dance was fine, it wasn’t spectacular, but it was fun enough. They’d jumped up and down and screamed random party songs together, laughing with one another and their shared friends.
Then the slow songs started, and at first she’d decided to sit things out while he spoke with one of his friends, but after a few minutes, he had asked her to dance.
The moment their eyes met during the slow dance was the moment they’d both been dreading their entire lives. They’d realized that maybe everyone else was right about them, and maybe they’d just been too stupid to notice.
But they’d brushed it off when the song changed, awkwardly laughing together while nodding their heads, ignoring the fact that a few seconds ago they were a little too close with his forehead resting against hers and their lips millimeters apart.
Both of them had internally vowed to never speak of that night again.
Then graduation happened. After getting their diplomas, they’d posed for more photos, laughed with one another, and ended up taking one of their favorite pictures together. Joaquin’s hand was around her waist as they both held up a singular middle finger while making a similar face—one eye shut with their tongue out. 
She’d gotten into Florida State University, and Joaquin decided to go to the Air Force. Of course Joaquin applied to college, but he wasn’t like Y/n, he hadn’t received a multitude of scholarships with different choices and the last thing he wanted to do was take out a series of loans that would leave him in thousands in debt, especially considering he’d wanted to do his best to avoid putting any other financial pressure on his family.
They’d spent most of that summer together, both with the knowledge that it’d truly be their last real summer together, at home, with one another.
He was set to go to basic training the same day that she’d be moving into her dorm.
So the night before they’d gone to the beach together, both sitting side by side on the sand, watching the sunset.
“Quino, things are gonna be different now, aren’t they?” she leaned into him, her head against his shoulder while she gazed forward. Meanwhile he’d gone from looking at the skyline, to looking down at her as he nodded his head.
“We can’t exactly be kids forever, Sunshine.”
he scoffed, lifting her head to look at him, eyes trailing along his features as if she was trying to commit this moment to memory, taking in every single detail as if she’d be able to remember this in fifteen years.
“We’re eighteen, it’s not like we have to have it all figured out y’know. We could pack everything up and run away.” 
He smiled, laughing at her while rolling his eyes slightly.
“Yeah, but we’d have to flee the country. I signed a contract with the Air Force. Maybe we run off to somewhere small, off grid.” 
She nodded along, elbowing him slightly, while holding back her smile. 
They both knew that wasn’t possible. It really was time to grow up, time to part ways, at least temporarily.
“You still gonna write to me?” 
He nodded his head at that. “Why wouldn’t I? Who’s gonna laugh at me suffering through basic training? Besides, y’know I write killer letters.” 
She shook her head at that, shoving some sand in his direction.“You have shit grammar, Quino.” 
He smiled at her, shrugging. “So? You still know what I mean!” 
She laughed again, now standing up and brushing her thighs off before giving him an expectant look. Joaquin nodded along as he got up off the sand, then she kicked off her shoes, and grabbed his hand, already running towards the water.
“Hell no! That water’s freezing!” 
She glanced over her shoulder at him. In that moment, at the sight of the golden hue reflecting against her skin, and the outline of the orange, purple, and pink skyline surrounding her figure like an aura from the heavens, he realized that he might’ve been in love with her. 
It was truly a terrible moment to realize that.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. C’mon, it’s our last real night as teenagers. Embrace it you doofus!”
Then she was pulling him along again, and somewhere along the way, he’d managed to kick his shoes off and toss his phone in a pile with their shared belongings before getting pulled into the water. 
They’d stayed out until two in the morning that night, and on their walk back through the neighborhood together, she wrapped her pinky around his as they moved in sync, trudging through the long sidewalks in their damp clothes together, knowing that in a few hours he’d be setting course to the airport then he’d be en route to San Antonio.
Meanwhile, she’d be starting the seven hour road trip to Florida State University with her parents while her dad towed a mini U-haul trailer on the back of his truck.
He always walked her to her door, even though they only lived a few houses apart and his house was the first they’d passed. She stood on the small front porch, key in the door as she faced away from him. A singular sniffle was what made him realize she’d been crying. 
“Hey, hey, Sunshine look at me.” 
She shook her head, looking down at the dimly lit door knob illuminated by the old porch light. The bulb nearly dead at this rate. Her father always said he’d get around to changing it, but it had been sitting the same way for the entire summer.
He was quick to move behind her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on her waist as he slowly turned her to face him. She tried to shove him off, but his grip was firm, and he’d managed to spin her toward him despite her resistance
“Things are gonna be fine. I’ll write to you, youïżœïżœïżœll write to me. We’ll still be friends, still get to come home to the same neighborhood with our families, alright? Still gonna be best friends—” He raised his palm, showing the near identical scar that they’d both shared “—see? Friends for life, made a shitty blood pact and everything.”
She nodded at him, sniffling before pulling him into a hug.
“I’m gonna miss you, you idiot.” he laughed at her, easily hugging her back, slightly squeezing as he nodded. 
“I’ll miss you too, Sunshine. Don’t forget about me when you’re over there in enemy territory, got it?” 
She laughed, shoving him away, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes.“I would’ve picked Miami if they’d given me more money. I guess the Seminoles just got better funding, huh?” she teased him, sniffling again as she smiled, the both of them still holding onto each other, as they held eye contact.
Then, they were both leaning in, and slowly but surely, their lips were millimeters apart again—just like prom night.
The door opening had them pulling apart harshly, practically tripping over one another as her father stared at them through the screen door, blinking several times, brows knit together as he unlocked the door.
“I don’t know what the hell you two are doing out here, but finish your goodbyes, and Joaquin, go the hell home. I’ll miss you kid.” 
He nodded at her father, laughing at his somewhat stern tone before facing her again. Then Joaquin raised both brows, tilting his head before lifting up a singular pinky.“Promise me you’ll write?” 
She smiled, nodding at that before locking her pinky with his. “Promise me you’ll respond when you’re not busy getting your ass kicked?” 
He nodded.
Then Joaquin said goodbye to her father and made his way down the porch steps, walking along the sidewalk.Glancing back, he to offer another wave before making his way back to his house.
The next morning, they’d both gone their separate ways, one to college, the other to the Air Force.
Washington D.C. 2027, Six Weeks Prior
The interrogation room was cold, colder than it should’ve been for the middle of the summer in Washington D.C. of all places. Hell, half of the city didn’t have working air conditioners, but it made sense that a police precinct less than twenty minutes from the Capitol building would have an air conditioning system that actually worked.
That’s how it was now;where there was money, there were luxuries.
Y/n sat in the uncomfortable metal chair situated in the middle of the room, hands cuffed to the  large metallic table in front of her with her ankles stuck to the legs of the chair. They’d known she would be able to break free at any second, but she wasn’t an animal, or some monster, and she wouldn’t be portrayed as such.
A criminal? Yes. But a monster? Never.
She was wearing a black leather jacket, and clearly it wasn’t warm enough, because she’d had goosebumps along her skin, and her nose burned at the feeling of the cold air. Then again, anything cold had a tendency to bother her, side effects of the bootleg black market serum that’d been forcefully injected into her somewhere between Europe and Madripoor.
Everything from that period was a bit fuzzy.
They’d had her in this room for nearly two hours. For the first twenty minutes, they’d tried to question her, and she simply ignored them or answered them solely in Spanish. When they’d found someone who did speak Spanish fluently, she started speaking French.
Then everyone had left, leaving her like an animal in a zoo exhibit, the bright fluorescent lights shining down on her while they watched from behind the one-way mirror. Three cameras in the room, all with a flashing red light, letting her know that they’d been recording the entire time. 
She was a few minutes away from breaking out of the cuffs and throwing them at one of the cameras, but then the door opened. She scoffed at the sight of Sam Wilson: the new Captain America.f she was honest, she liked the guy and she hadn’t heard anything negative about him
well,  from anyone who actually had any sense.
The negatives were usually from racist morons, but Sam Wilson was a great Captain America.. He fit the morals and values, and from what she’d heard, he was genuinely a good person, and those were very rare these days.
She would’ve been perfectly fine if it was just Sam, but when his new protege walked in behind him, she couldn’t hold back the scoff of annoyance.
It’d been years since she’d actually seen him in person.
She’d unconsciously squeezed her right hand, the same hand that a thin horizontal scar sat on— the same scar that he had on his right hand.
Sam’s gaze was focused on the file in hand so he’d missed the glare that she was shooting at Joaquin, and his sudden stiff demeanor. They’d both sat across from her, and the sounds of metal scraping against the tiled floors made her cringe. Then, Sam tossed the file on the table, the papers sliding out of the manilla folder and towards her.
Different criminal charges, alleged photographs of her at global crime scenes, a series of witness descriptions—anything and everything that could possibly incriminate her, outside of genuine substantial evidence.
“Didn’t know Captain America did jail calls, thought that was reserved for the Raft.” 
Sam shook his head at that, raising a single brow as he looked at her.
He knew she hadn’t even hit thirty yet. The girl was still young, and from her records, she’d had so much potential, potential to do good. Yet here she was. Not only did she graduate with honors from Florida State University, she was a Stark scholar her freshman year, having interned directly for Tony at one point, president of several campus organizations, had not only a full ride to the university, but was also given several merit based scholarships during her time there, had significant research that was involved in several scientific journal publications, and she had even been an intern for the department of defense.
He also knew that the world wasn’t the best place following the Snap in 2018; it impacted everyone drastically. Some vouched that it was a great time, but a lot of people had suffered, and the world was left to grieve and mourn for five years.
“Well, now you do know that. Care to share how you’re involved with Serpent?” 
She rolled her eyes at that, shaking her head and letting out a sigh. “I’m not.” 
Sam raised a brow, opening the file and pointing at not one, but two images of Y/N very clearly speaking with one of Serpent’s main shot callers, Sidewinder himself. “Then explain your relation to Sidewinder”
“That’s not me in the photo.” She blinked several times, clearly bored of the conversation.
Joaquin just stared in silence, it was probably the most quiet he’d been in years, staring at his childhood best friend turned wanted criminal. He never understood what happened to her. They’d kept in touch when he’d gone to boot camp, and even after that, when she was in college and he was getting his deployment orders, she always wrote to him.
They’d written to one another, even after the Blip.
He knew her family had been blipped away, and he also knew that was a major turning point for her. She’d spent most of her time on her studies, overworking herself to the point of exhaustion, distracting herself from the truth.
Two years into the Blip they lost contact. He knew she was still in school, but he was stationed overseas, and the time zones, plus the stress of life had gotten to them both.
He tried to find her again when he was stateside, tried to got to the neighborhood, only to find new families living in the house that had been in her family for decades. He’d also found out that the county government had forcefully repossessed the house. They’d gone to court over it and she’d lost.
All he’d known was that she did end up graduating, and as a last ditch effort, she invited him to her graduation. She’d written to him a lot, but turns out most of those letters had gotten lost along the way. The Blip had left several economic issues, and had impacted a multitude of different industries, which accounted for the loss of most of her letters. The ones he’d finally gotten from her were all stacked up, scattered thoughts throughout three years—references to things he didn’t really get, random bits and pieces from stories he’d assumed he would never get to read, and most importantly, the invitation to her graduation.
Typically he would’ve been able to request time for that andhe wished he got the letter on time, wished that he would’ve been able to go to Florida State (although begrudgingly) and watch his best friend cross the stage and get her degree, especially considering he’d be one of the few people there for her after what happened to her family.
Seeing her was like seeing a ghost, except now he was seeing the ghost of who she was, of who she could’ve been. The woman across from him wasn’t the same girl that he’d seen all those years ago.
It’d been almost nine years. Nine years since he’d properly gotten to see her. He still remembers the way her voice sounded that night, the last night they were genuinely together. 
“Stop staring, Torres” 
His eyes widened at the sound of her voice, or rather, the sound of his name leaving her lips, because it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t his first name, or one of the several different nicknames she’d granted him over the years; there was no friendly tone, just venom.
He blinked a few times, brows knit together as he glanced at Sam, who was already looking at him with a curious expression.Sam looked between the both of them, glancing between the woman across from them, then back to Joaquin.
“Wait a goddamn minute, you two know each other?!” 
She scoffed at that, shaking her head. 
“Not anymore.” 
It was cold. Deep down, she knew that the response hurt Joaquin, but when she needed him, he wasn’t there. She hadn’t heard back from him in years. All she could do was sit and bury herself into her academics, striving to be the best of the best in hopes of becoming something or make her family proud.
She remembered the heartbreak she’d felt each time she hadn’t gotten a letter back. Then she sent him her graduation date, an invitation, and had even included a ticket.
He didn’t show up. 
She was alone in the world, left with no family, and she was hurt. Her home was gone, her family was missing, disappearing for what could’ve been forever, and she had nothing but a college degree and the few bins of stuff she’d had left.
The Blip had led to several criminal organizations skyrocketing, and it just so happened that Florida was home to a few of them, organizations that were using illegal alien technology to create weapons of destruction, organizations that had focuses in overthrowing minor governments, organizations that went hand in hand with any and all underground and black market affairs. 
So she’d taken advantage of that, used her brains to actually prove herself, and once they’d found a good use for her, she was helping engineer weapons. Thenshe was helping with mass production on a global front and she’d spent time traveling, doing illegal arms deals, and even wooing other crime bosses. 
That’s how she ended up tied in with Serpent, it wasn’t exactly difficult to hack into their secure systems, nor was it hard to convince them that they needed her, villains without real weapons couldn’t actually do much. Things had gone pretty smoothly until she’d been practically kidnapped, taken to a remote space, and used as a test subject for a new brand of super soldier serum following the arrest of the Flag Smashers.
She wasn’t proud of her actions following the injection, she knew she had blood on her hands, but it wasn’t her fault, not when they’d treated her like a lab rat.
“Okay, we’ll talk about whatever history you two have later. Right now, you need to come clean about your involvement with Serpent, or you’re looking at thirty years in the Raft.” 
She simply shrugged again, raising a brow before glancing down at the photos again. It was very apparent that it was her, and she had been mid argument with Sidewinder, who she should’ve just killed—another regret truly.
Then she lifted her wrists, and the cuffs snapped as if they’d been made of paper.
“That answer your question, Cap?” 
His eyes widened t, glancing from her wrists to the broken steel on the table. Sam watched as she pulled the documents closer, raising a single brow at the different photos and angles from the conversation.
“So it’s true then, they’re still experimenting on people?” 
Sshe laughed at that, nodding her head.
“Sure are, now can we get to the Raft already?, Pretty sure I can break out.-Ddefinitely not as secure as some would believe. I’ll take that sentence now.” She looked at the one way mirror, snapping her fingers a few times, as if she was summoning the cops to arrest her yet again.
“You’re not going to the Raft Sun- Uh- Y/l/n.” 
Sshe glanced back at Joaquin now, shaking her head at him. Any semblance of a smirk had left her face, now it was as if she’d been devoid of any emotion.
“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” She clenched her jaw, looking away from him and towards Sam. 
“I can help you. I know you’ve got a plethora of connections in the realm of illegal arms dealing, not to mention you’ve also been the brains behind a lot of the weapons that we’ve found, confiscated, and examined. I like your signature that you leave on them, too.” 
She smirked at that, nodding her head, then sifted through the photos, finding the close up of one of the larger automatic rifles she’d built, except this one relied solely on Chitauri energy-based ammunition. It didn’t need bullets, and she’d engraved the outline of a small bird onto the handle. 
“What can I say? It’s part of the brand. Now, I don’t need help Cap, what I need is to get the hell out of the U.S.” 
He nodded his head at that, pulling some folder papers out of his jacket pocket. Unfolding them, he slid the documents across the table.
“Here are my terms. I can get you a presidential pardon for your crimes, a pardon that would allow you to be back in the states without hiding out. A pardon that would get you a fresh start. But you’re gonna need to start being honest here.” 
Her brows were knit together as she slowly grasped the papers, eyes scanning along the different legal terms as she flipped through the pages.
It was clear that she had to cooperate with Sam if she wanted the pardon. It guaranteed that she’d no longer be deemed as a war criminal ora domestic terrorist. That would also ensure that she’d be able to go back home, to see her family, to be someone else, to be anyone but the person she’d become. 
“If I agree to this, you promise my family’s gonna be alright?” She looked up at Sam. 
 In that moment, he could see through her walls. He could see a scared girl that had lost everyone to the Blip, a girl that had fallen into this lifestyle because it was her only real choice. 
Sam nodded at her, handing her a pen. “If you sign them now, you have my word.” 
She took the pen slowly, jaw clenched as she stared at the pages. It was almost too good to be true. However, a clause that stated any divergence from the very clearly outlined plan, which included court mandated therapy sessions, would result in her imprisonment, bringing her back to reality.
“What the hell do you need from me anyways? I’m not some hero, I don’t even think I count as a good person anymore. Don’t you have more happy and hopeful people like him to recruit?” She motioned towards Joaquin without even looking at him.
Joaquin was dealing with his own inner turmoil, there were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many things that he hadn’t gotten the chance to express. He’d waited years to see her again, and now, even if she was a bit rough around the edges, he felt almost happy to see her and know that she was alright—even if she was a wanted criminal.
But he was disappointed that she’d managed to become what she was now.
“Well, truthfully, you’re smart. Smarter than most. And with your network, we could do a lot of good, starting stateside, and moving from there. Besides, not everyone that does good has to be a hero. Just like not everyone who’s done bad shit, is a bad person.” 
She nodded slowly, then glanced back at the files.
“Sidewinder has a bounty on his head.Some big crime boss in Madripoor is pissed that Serpent didn’t deliver on their end of a large weapons deal a few months back. It was supposed to be some covert scam. They’d get the wired funds, stay stateside, or really anywhere other than Madripoor—y’know places that have real laws, and they’d be able to avoid the consequences.”
She sighed, glancing at the photo. “Tried to get me to speed a few manufacturing processes up.ell, no first he practically threatened me. but y'know the whole serum thing kinda reduces any real threat at this rate. Told me that if I helped him out, I’d get seven million.”
Sam nodded at the information. “Did you take the deal?” 
She simply shrugged then shook her head.“And have a ten million dollar bounty on my head? Hell no. I told him I was out of the business.Besides, can’t really have any high paying deals with shady government officials if I’m legally not supposed to be seen within the United States, or any U.S. territories.” 
Then she signed the contract, putting the pen on top of the indented papers and slide them back to Sam. She still avoided Joaquin’s stare, she had nothing positive to say to him, and the last thing she wanted to hear was a lecture about the person she’d become from the one person that had abandoned her.
Maybe if she wasn’t aware that he didn’t blip, then maybe she wouldn’t have held the grudge. But one of the last letters she’d gotten from him was after the Blip, so she knew he was okay, she knew he was alive.
“Welcome to the team, kid.” Sam placed his right hand out, and she easily grasped it, shaking on the deal.
Baltimore MD, 2027 Five Weeks Prior
If there was a word that could fully describe the relationship between the two former best friends, it would be strained, but that was a severe understatement. Over the past week they’d been staying in the same house in the suburbs of Baltimore county. Sam had stated that Y/n needed to be under constant supervision, mainly because part of him was still a bit weary with her.
He hadn’t given her a reason not to trust her, not yet at least. But with a criminal record as substantial as hers, within the short time span of about four years, she was definitely someone to keep an eye on. 
It wasn’t the first time Sam had opted to help in the rehabilitation of a criminal. To be fair, he’d placed a lot of hope in several different people, and most of the time, they truly did change. There were people like Karli Morgenthau, the former leader of the Flag Smashers that had been victim to the circumstance of the Blip, followed by the reversal of it all.She was willing to do better, willing to change, but it was too late for her.
Sam wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he held a lot of regret whenever he thought of the girl, even if it was several years ago. Some deaths weren’t easily let go of, especially those that could’ve been prevented. 
Maybe that was why he’d had so much faith in Y/n, he knew she wasn’t always the way she is now, that much was confirmed by the long winded rant that Joaquin had gone on the second they were out of the precinct.He’d spoken for what felt like hours about his former childhood best friend, and at some point, Sam had started tuning him out.
Of course Sam was going to be there to support Joaquin, who was clearly in love with his former friend, but at some point in time, he naturally tuned out the constant chatter. 
Things hadn’t gone smoothly whatsoever at the house, mainly because when Joaquin had tried to speak with her, she’d quite literally thrown a pan at him, slammed several doors in his face, sprayed him with a water hose, and had even opted to fully abandon her meals just to get away from him. She did eventually come back and clean up after herself, but at the moment, she wanted nothing to do with him.
When he tried to sit with her in silence, she’d roll her eyes and storm off. 
She hadn’t said a single word to him, and he was still doing his best to make amends with her, even though he really didn’t know what he had to make up for.
Today was no different, she’d ignored him and acted as if he didn’t exist, any time he’d enter a shared common space, she’d leave. It didn’t matter if she was in the middle of doing something, she’d find a way to leave as swiftly as possible.
Joaquin was over it, completely and utterly over it.
But before he could attempt to be confrontational and most likely get his ass kicked, there were several knocks at the front door, and of course, he was the one to open it.
In the doorway stood Dr. Christina Raynor, the same therapist that had worked with Bucky Barnes following his presidential pardon journey. It had taken several phone calls, and a lot of flaunting the title of Captain America for Sam to actually get her to do house calls for Y/n. It wasn’t exactly easy, and he didn’t trust that she’d be able to go to her appointments on a consistent basis. 
So he brought the appointments to her.
“Ah, Captain Torres. You’re not the person I’m here for, but a lovely surprise nonetheless.” She motioned for him to step aside, and when he did, she entered the home.
She’d taken a few minutes to look around. It wasn’t the fanciest of homes, but it was a nice house to live in, with three bedrooms total, a few bathrooms, and two floors, not including the basement. The place was small, but it didn’t feel small, it was nice, cozy even. 
It made sense why Sam chose a place like this for her. 
“So where is she? I’m sure she’s well aware of our appointment today.” Joaquin’s brows knit together. Truthfully, he wasn’t even aware of the appointment. Then again, it’s not like Y/n had said a single word to him over the past seven days. If her nonverbal communication said anything, it was that she didn’t want a single thing to do with him.
“Uh, upstairs, probably. We don’t really talk much.” 
She slowly nodded her head at him.“And why is that? Sam said the two of you knew each other well.” 
He scratched the back of his neck, glancing towards the staircase, then back at Dr. Raynor.
“Well, we did.We grew up together in Miami, but then she went to college and I enlisted, and then the Blip happened, and it’s been a while. So, we know each other, but I don’t think well would be the right way to describe it.”
She observed him as if she was taking note of everything he’d been saying. It gave Joaquin a minor spark of anxiety, but he chose to ignore it, closing the front door, then proceeding to guide her in the direction of the room that Y/n had occupied.
He knocked on the door several times, and the silence that followed was mildly concerning.
“Hello, it’s Dr. Raynor, here for our three o’ clock appointment.” 
The door opened, and at the sight of Joaquin, she rolled her eyes, but then she glanced at Dr. Raynor.  The older woman stared directly at her, so Y/n stepped to the side, motioning for her to come in before slamming the door in Joaquin’s face. 
“So, Joaquin tells me that you two grew up together. I think for today’s sessions, we should start there.” Y/n blinked a few times, watching as Dr. Raynor moved towards the windows, pulling one of the few chairs in the room with her, leaving it closest to the window, then took another and left it across the room.She took a seat at the one furthest from the window, opting to cross one leg over the other. 
Y/n was hesitant as she sat down, arms crossed in front of her chest, a look of irritation on her features.“We grew up together. A lot of people grow up together, what's the big deal?” The negativity in her tone was unmistakable, that in combination with her clenched jaw, stiff posture, and now shaking leg, emphasized not only the anger in her words, but the stress in her body.
“Well, Sam tells me that you’ve pretty recently started going downhill, sorry, not really a better way to say that. Don’t worry I won’t make you make amends with the people you’ve wronged and go through some long winded process to make things better. Truthfully, most of the time, you can’t make things from the past better, but you can work on the future. But, that does rely on looking back a bit, pinpointing the start of all of this.”
She groaned, shaking her head.“I know how it all started, I don’t need a shrink to psychoanalyze me and tell me when I turned into a shitty person.” 
Dr. Raynor nodded, watching as Y/n glanced outside, her gaze focused on the neighborhood around them.“Okay, so tell me about that then.” 
She thought the girl would fight, but she didn't; she just took a deep breath and nodded her head.
Joaquin stood outside of the room, hesitating as he debated leaving or eavesdropping, he knew it was wrong of him to stay, but he also wanted to know what went wrong, what caused all of this. More importantly, he wanted to know how to fix it. 
But he knew this wasn’t the right way to fix things, so he headed down the hall, opting to go back downstairs and get back to work. He had a few systems that needed some adjustments, so he’d occupy himself with that for now.
Her eyes traced the skyline, taking in the angular tilts of every rooftop against the soft blue hues of the sky. She hated talking about the Blip, she hated even thinking about it. There wasn’t a time that she’d ever felt so lost and so alone.
“After the Blip, I mean, to be fair I was okayish the first year, but my family was blipped away, and with my shit luck, all of my friends were also blipped away. Well, except for Torres, but at that point he’d already been deployed. We still talked for a while at least, he wrote me and I wrote him, then maybe two years in, he uh, he stopped writing Or maybe he didn’t, but I stopped getting them.” 
She blinked a few times, trying to ignore the burn of tears welling in her eyes as she avoided Dr. Raynor’s gaze.
“I dunno, I was just alone. I did keep writing though, and I drowned myself in my academics. I interned for all of the big major hard hitters, I had merit scholarships that I was positive I didn’t really deserve because someone more capable was most likely blipped away. But y’know, it was a good distraction.”
She paused again, this time wiping a few tears away, Dr. Raynor took minimal notes, mostly on her mannerisms rather than her history.
“Then I graduated, and no one was there, and I went back home, and no one was there either, then the county took my family’s house. I went to court, but I was poor and I couldn’t afford a good lawyer, so they won. They won and they took my family’s house.” 
Raynor nodded her head, raising a single brow at the very clear emotion. Prior to this, based on her file, the few interrogation tapes she’d viewed, and what she’d gathered from Sam, the girl in front of her wasn’t very emotional. She was meticulous, logical, and a complete smart ass.
This was a good sign.
“Tell me about the house.” 
She nodded, eyes still focused outside.“My great grandfather had purchased the land when they migrated over, it took him decades to buy it. He’d worked for twenty years before he was able to afford it. Even back then, when inflation wasn’t kicking everyone’s ass, it was still hard for an immigrant to get something as solid as land. Over the years my family has always lived in that house. It’s been passed down through the generations. Or at least, it was until they took it from us.”
She let out a deep breath, wiping away a few more tears.
“I grew up there y’know, my brothers are all older than me by at least eight years, then I met Quino, and we spent years causing a ruckus there. I don’t think I really have a singular bad memory being there, from being home.”
She sighed, running a hand along her face for a moment before turning to face Dr. Raynor.
“My parents got the house back, and this time I had the money, sure it was dirty money, but I got them the lawyer after the blip, I couldn’t even go see them physically, I’d already had too many warrants in the U.S., but I made sure we had what was ours again.”
Dr. Raynor nodded her head, glancing down at her watch for a moment.
“I want you to tell me about your family.” 
The two spent the next thirty minutes speaking about Y/n’s family, starting from her grandparents who were both deceased, to her parents, to her siblings that she hadn’t spoken to in years. She’d even mentioned Joaquin’s family, stating that they weren’t blood relatives, but they were still family nonetheless.
That’s also how Dr. Raynor found out that Joaquin’s mother had been Blipped away.
By the time that the session was over, Y/n had cried more than she’d cried in the past three years, and she actually felt a little better about the world, maybe therapy wasn’t just some ‘mumbo jumbo’ that they tried to force onto people. Then again, it could’ve also been the simple act of having the opportunity to actually speak with someone about her issues that had made her feel better.
She was quick to walk Dr. Raynor out, but when heading downstairs, she realized that Joaquin was no longer alone.Based on the loud voices and laughter, Sam was also present, along with someone else.
Sam rounded the corner, a wide smile on his face as he said his hellos to Dr. Raynor, shaking her hand for a moment before glancing at Y/n, taking in her bloodshot eyes
“Session go well then?”
“As well as pouring my heart and soul out to a complete stranger can go.”
Washington D.C., 2027, Four Weeks Prior
“Sam this is stupid, I’m not gonna waltz into the White House and ask for a damn expedite on a pardon from the Hulk Hunter of all people!” 
He shushed her, making eye contact through the rear view mirror as he drove. She sighed, brows knit together, frustration evident in her features.
It was bad enough he had her wearing business professional attire. There was nothing that she hated more than dressing up, especially in blazers and button ups, not to mention the obnoxious pencil skirt that he insisted she wear. This had to have been her own personal hell.
Maybe that was it, she’d died and was forced to live in this lifetime as a karmic cycle.
Then, to make matters worse, Joaquin was currently sitting in the front seat of the SUV, doing his best not to look back at her, knowing she’d probably find something to throw at him, or worse, she’d curse at him again.
Over the past few days she’d moved on from giving him the complete silent treatment, which might’ve been nice if she wasn’t verbally assaulting him any chance she’d get. It made sense that she would want to push him away, but being cursed out constantly was the last thing he needed.
Joaquin was getting tired of it. 
He was beyond frustrated with her, especially given the fact that Sam had practically dropped him off with her and stated that he was the best bet for ‘fixing her’ as if she needed to be fixed. What she needed was a hug, or maybe a xanax, he had no idea, but Joaquin knew the last thing she needed was him.
Sure they’d grown up together, but they were drastically different at this point.
“Well, you can’t start on a new foot if you’re dragging a ball and chain the size of Australia with you everywhere you go.” 
Y/n knew that Sam had a point, but she didn’t want to accept that.She was looking down at her hands, her left thumb nervously running along the thin scar decorating her right palm.“I didn’t even do anything that bad.” 
Sam laughed at that, shaking his head.“Yes, because contributing to several global wars by distributing biomechanical alien tech based weapons isn’t anything bad. Not to mention working with several major underground crime families.” 
She shushed him, kneeing his chair like an angry little kid on a long car ride.
“To be fair, at least you didn’t really kill anyone.” 
She rolled her eyes at Joaquin’s input, glaring at him from her seat.
“Also, not technically true, Joaquin.” Sam nodded as he spoke, finally making it through the plethora of security gates and guards, being able to actually park the car in the underground garage that was typically utilized for staff-only vehicles. 
Y/n was relatively silent as she got out of the car, adjusting her skirt uncomfortably before following Sam’s lead, rolling her eyes at Joaquin when he walked beside her.
When they were younger, they always walked together, and she remembered the way that she’d gravitate towards Joaquin, linking her pinky with his, especially when she was nervous about something. She felt as if she was fighting that part of herself, doing her best to ignore what was probably her inner child—or at least that’s what Dr. Raynor described it as.
He chose the worst time to extend an olive branch, she flinched the second his hand brushed against hers. At first she assumed it was an accident, but the second time she took a few steps away from him, putting some distance between them both.
She hated being patted down, but , it was part of the process, and as the security did so all she could do was roll her eyes and hold her arms up. 
Sam gave her a pointed look when they stood in front of the oval office doors.
“It’s now or never kid, time to right your wrongs.ell, at least start righting your wrongs.”
She nodded slowly, running her thumb along the scar on her palm again as she followed Sam and Joaquin inside.
Truthfully, the entire time that President Ross spoke, she simply nodded her head, offering faint and forced smiles, doing her best not to have a fully fledged panic attack. She could practically feel the anxiety thrumming through her heart, and it was getting harder to breathe, she needed to relax, needed to calm down.
Then the President shook her hand and she had no idea what he was saying, she just nodded her head at him, eyes a bit glossy as she fought the nervous tears.
Joaquin noticed it first, he could see how stiff she was. It wasn’t normal, or at least, it wasn’t what he was now used to. She looked almost afraid, or maybe it was panic. Then he noticed her rubbing her palm, and he knew it was panic, she’d always done that, it started when they were kids, and now it was resurfacing.
He excused himself, and in the process, also excused her, a single hand on her lower back, guiding her with him as they stepped out of the office, leaving Sam and President Ross to speak with one another. 
She didn’t have the energy to curse at him, she needed some air.
Joaquin guided her movements, taking her to one of the smaller more secluded gardens outside, a place that most of the public wasn’t allowed.
“Sunshine, you need to breathe.” 
She nodded her head at him, vision a bit hazy as she tried to focus on breathing. She hadn’t realized that her panicking had gotten this bad, the anxiety practically surging through her, she was too busy overthinking about everything she’d done over the past four years, trying to piece together the fuzzy pieces, trying to remember who she really was.
It was clear that just talking to her wasn’t helping, so he stepped forward, gently placing one hand on the side of her face, practically caressing her warm skin as he held eye contact with her.
“I need you to breathe. You’re okay, everythings okay. Ross approved the pardon, you just need to follow through with Dr. Raynor. You’ll be alright, Sunshine”. He spoke slowly and quietly, and for the first time in a long time, he felt as if he was really seeing her.“Take a deep breath. Exactly, in and out—just like that.” 
She nodded along, following his lead until she finally felt like her heart wasn’t going to beat out of her own chest. 
There was something calming about Joaquin, and maybe if she’d genuinely let him in again, she would know that it was just his presence overall that calmed her down. 
But it was never that easy.
Then she was shoving him away from her, blinking a few times when she finally realized how close they were.
She let out a cynical laugh, shaking her head at him. “Can’t you just leave me the hell alone?!” He stared for a moment, face void of any emotion for a few seconds.
“What the hell is your problem, Sunshine! I mean come on, I’ve been trying to talk to you for two weeks.I haven’t seen you in almost ten years at this point, and God, I’m so tired of this weird silent treatment, oh lets be mean as hell to Joaquin fiasco. I just want to be there for you!” his voice was getting louder as he ranted to her. 
“Seriously?!” she raised both brows at his outburst, rolling her eyes.
When she tried to walk away, he stepped in front of her, blocking her way, knowing she couldn’t exactly shove him. They were at the White House for her presidential pardon, any and everything that she did could easily get it ripped away from her.
“Stop calling me that! It’s not my freaking name!” Her voice was loud as she yelled at him, swatting his extended arm away from her, he rolled his eyes, letting out a deep sigh, shaking his head.
“I don’t give a shit if it’s your name, I’ve always called you Sunshine! What the hell is so different now?!” 
She let out another cynical laugh at that, fighting the urge to shove him away from her.
“Everything is different Torres! Every single fucking thing is different! You’re arguing with me in a garden outside of the damn White House where I have to get a fucking presidential pardon because I’m a god damn criminal. But you
Torres, you’re a freakin Avenger! We’ve never been more different!” Her voice cracked as she yelled back at him, her eyes burned as she felt them start to water, and she did her best to make sure she wouldn’t shed a single tear around him.
“It doesn’t have to be! You don’t have to be like that anymore! It’s a fresh start for a reason! You’re so god damn stubborn that you refuse to see yourself as anything but what you’ve been over the past few years. Newsflash,Sunshine, the Blip wasn’t good to all of us.It brought out the worst in a lot of people! You don’t have to be that same person anymore!” 
She shook her head at that.“What the hell would you know about what happened to me? You weren’t even there. Do you know how many times I wrote to you?! How many days I stayed up hoping that maybe I’d hear back from the one person I knew was still around?” Her voice cracked again as she spoke, her bottom lip quivering by the time she’d finished shouting at him. Her heart was practically pounding and her ears were ringing, her skin was flushed and all she could focus on was trying not to cry, trying to hold it all in.
She hated crying.
Once the first tear fell, it was as if the floodgates had been unleashed. She couldn’t hold it in, but she wouldn’t allow herself to break down, not like this. So she turned on her heel, hands clenched in fists as she started walking down the stone path, steadying her breath as she shook her head.
But his voice had her stopping in her tracks, still turned away from him. 
“You think I didn’t write you? Do you know the kind of shit I had to see when I was overseas, the shit I wished I had someone to talk to about?! I never stopped writing to you! Then I waited and waited for your letters! They were the only thing that got me through in the beginning, you were the only one.” 
He was exhausted, he’d been exhausted for years. Sure he’d found productive distractions, he’d even found parts of himself he’d thought he lost after the Blip. But there was always something missing, and that something had been her. She’d always been there, she was one of the largest constants in his life, then suddenly, things got hard, and she’d been gone.
She wasn’t the only one who had felt loss, that had felt that sense of loneliness.
But he didn’t know how to say that, he didn’t know how to let her know that he’d been hurting too, that the hurt hadn’t just gone away. But it wasn’t numbing, not like it had been that first year they’d lost contact. He’d managed to stay busy, working his ass off in the Air Force, using his own skill set, and expanding on it. 
He’d spent years drowning himself in work, sure he still had family back home, but it wasn’t easy going home, it wasn’t feasible for the most part. He’d been overseas for years, and in all of that time, he’d hardly gotten to speak to any of his family or friends. But he did his best to not let that loneliness overcome him.
So he’d done his best to show his superiors that he wasn’t just intelligent and athletic, but also diligent, committed, and useful.
That’s how he’d ended up meeting Sam that day in Tunisia, after years of climbing the ranks. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much that she wouldn’t hear.
His voice cracked as he spoke “You act like I forgot you, I’ve never forgotten you, Sunshine.” 
She shook her head at that. Looking down at the ground, feeling the tears falling faster.“I don’t wanna hear that from you. Now leave me the hell alone Torres”
Then she walked away, heels clicking against the pavement as she walked through the lush space, shaking her head while wiping away her tears.
Baltimore M.D., Three Weeks Prior
“I’m not avoiding the question!” Y/n shook her head, jaw clenched as she stared at Dr. Raynor. They were currently sitting in the living room of the house that Sam had called her ‘new temporary home’. 
She was seated on the large burnt orange sofa in the middle of the room, one leg crossed on the oversized cushion she sat on, the other extended in front of her, foot resting on the edge of the small glass coffee table in the room. She held a throw pillow in her lap, glaring at Dr. Raynor who sat across from her, except in the room itself, she was technically diagonal as the recliner she sat in was angled away.
Of course the small brown leather bound notebook was still in her hand alongside a black ink pen that she jotted down notes with.
The woman sighed, adjusting her glasses as she glanced back down at the notebook, clearly making a note of Y/n’s defensive behavior.
“Yes, yes you are avoiding the question, It was a simple ask, what do you think your genuine purpose is? I’m not asking for an essay, most people have some kind of answer, some would say to work, others would say to help, I’ve even had clients say their last purpose is to make amends. If you don’t have an answer—then that itself is an answer as well. But you? You’ve completely disregarded the question”.
Y/n sighed, shaking her head again as she glanced down at her hands, the skin around her cuticles were peeling, some of it red, some of it scabbed, from her constant need to pick or fidget. 
The question was simple in thought. Dr. Raynor had asked the question ten minutes ago, and for the past ten minutes, Y/n had done her best to avoid it, opting to bring up random thoughts, extend on previous things, and ask her therapist questions instead. 
She knew for a fact she’d been avoiding the doctor’s question. 
Mainly because she’d always thought her purpose would be to do something good, something great even. To find the next biggest scientific discovery, to use her smarts for the benefit of helpful research, to engineer something substantial, to expand upon biomedical sciences and studies. 
Instead she was technically an ex-arms dealer, the engineer behind a series of potentially country-ending-weapons and machinery, a contributor to several global wars, and a literal felon with a criminal record. Not to mention the fact that she couldn’t leave the jurisdiction of the State of Maryland or Washington D.C. without pre-approved supervision.
She used to believe that maybe, on the simplest level, her purpose was to help those in need. To help those who were sick, those who were wounded, those injured in wars, but instead, she was part of the reason for those injuries in wars.
“Okay, so I don’t have an answer then.” 
Dr. Raynor shook her head “now you’re just lying to me, y’know for a global criminal considered a national threat, you’re a horrible liar” she took a note of that as well.
Y/n sighed, looking up at Dr. Raynor then back down at her hands, specifically at her right palm, running her left thumb over it again. Tracing the scar, back and forth, several times over. 
The only reason they’d had today’s therapy session in the living room was because Joaquin had been called into work late last night, some local mission that Sam needed intelligence backup on. It worked out perfectly, she’d finally gotten a day of peace and quiet.
That and her usual therapy session didn’t need to be in the mess that was her room, and Dr. Raynor wouldn’t be able to jot down any notes about the disastrous state that the bedroom was in.
“Fine. When I was a kid, I wanted to help people. Do something good y’know, my mom always said with as smart as I was, I’d be able to find the cure to the most untreatable diseases. I uh, I remember when Quin—Torres, uh yeah, Torres, would tell me that I’d be able to make a real difference for people like us y’know, people who grew up in poor areas with shit access to things like health care and real genuine medical treatments. But it all seems so far-fetched now.”
She took a deep breath after that, finally looking over at Dr. Raynor, who’s brows were knit together as she listened, then she took another note, it was short, and quick.
“You do know that you still have time to do that, right? In a world like this, where aliens, gods, and superheros are all real, there’s really no such thing as an aspiration that’s far-fetched,”
“That’s what Quino used to say to me, said we could be anything since aliens were real,” she smiled, shaking her head while looking down at her palms again.
“Tell me about your friendship with Joaquin.” 
She coughed at first, slightly taken aback before shaking her head at Dr. Raynor. 
“I’m being serious, I’d like to know more about your past, and he seems to be a consistent figure” 
She sighed, nodding her head “I dunno, like I said before, we grew up together, we were best friends for years, our families are friends, they always told us we’d get married someday, that way our families could just be one big family y’know. We were close for a long time, he was my closest confidant.”
The session ended shortly after that, mainly because time had run out, and Y/n had nothing to really respond with, sure the words of encouragement were nice, and even if they made complete sense from a logical perspective, morally, Y/n didn’t think she really deserved a second chance.
Maybe that was why this entire predicament was so difficult. It was hard to adjust, hard to accept that Sam Wilson had really given her a second chance, that maybe she’d actually be able to do some good and be able to actually help people instead of hurt them.
She’d sat in the living room once Dr. Raynor had left, opting to use one of the large throw blankets on the couch, covering herself to get comfortable, eventually opting to lay down, TV now on as she mindlessly scrolled through the channels, well at least, things were mindless until Y/n caught the local News.
Then her eyes widened as she sat up swiftly, a recorded footage feed showing Captain America and the Falcon mid air, both fighting what looked to be missiles over the Indian Ocean. She wasn’t even sure if they were actually fighting, it looked more like they were trying to lure them away, and at first they’d been doing a great job.
Then Joaquin had been hit, and not only had he been hit, he’d crash landed into the Indian Ocean. Based on the timestamps on the footage, that had happened almost four hours ago.
It was like she was on autopilot, immediately standing up, eyes wide as she rushed to gather her things and put on whatever clothes she could quickly find. Sam had mentioned that if anything ever happened, they’d be rushed to the hospital at the air force base twenty minutes outside of Washington D.C., so what did Y/n decide to do? 
Steal Joaquin’s keys and drive herself to that hospital.
It didn’t help that she’d been questioned at the security gate, and then they’d also tried arresting her, which did lead to a very unnecessary fight, but she defended herself by stating they’d triggered her fight or flight response by putting their hands on her first and practically ripping her out of the car that was registered in Joaquin’s name.
To be fair, she’d even told them that they’d been living together, and that he should’ve been flown in by then, or at the very least, he’d be arriving shortly. She had also tried showing them the paperwork that Sam had provided to her, all of it had been filed electronically, notarized, and in the legal sense, it was concrete proof that she was no longer a wanted criminal.
Technically, she wasn’t exactly a regular civilian either. There was some subclass that she’d fallen under after being experimented on, and then, of course, being a former enemy of the state wasn’t the best title for someone actively trying to get onto a military base, especially when they had zero military clearance or involvement.
It had taken two additional hours for her to actually get to the hospital on base, and the only reason they hadn’t fully arrested her was because Sam had managed to find her. 
The walk to the hospital, and through the halls was quiet. Sure there was the general noise and ambiance of a hospital, plus the stench of alcohol and antiseptics, and the ongoing background chatter between staff and patients, plus the beeping of different machines, but between Y/n and Sam, they were silent.
Sam felt guilty, guilty for it all, as if it was his fault that this had happened.The past twenty four hours had been miserable, everything that could’ve gone wrong, had gone wrong. He’d even gotten guidance from Bucky Barnes of all people, sure he loved Buck, but at the same time, getting guidance from one of the least level-headed people he knew was tragic.
Now he had to deal with Y/n, who he practically ripped away from several military police after she’d taken down two of their guards after claiming that they’d hit her first. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be shocked if they had acted with aggression towards the girl, her record was beyond worrisome and she did have several red flags that equated to violent tendencies.
But he also knew that she was worried, the concern was practically oozing off of her. 
She acted as if she hated Joaquin, but Sam knew that she was just hurt, and it was the kind of hurt that would take time to heal. It wasn’t exactly easy for her to go back to normal, especially when the past five years have been anything but normal.
They walked side by side, neither wanting to be the first to speak, at least until they’d reached the door to the room he was currently admitted into. It was a recovery room, he’d just gotten out of surgery about half an hour ago, his entire right shoulder had been burned and partially broken, not to mention the bits and pieces of metal that had pierced through his skin from his suit, wings, and the shrapnel from the missile. 
With the blinds to Joaquin’s room being open, Y/n could see him lying in the hospital bed, elevated, from where she stood.  His upper body had been bandaged, but she could see bits and pieces of his burnt skin along his jawline and his neck. 
He even had a few cuts and scrapes on his face, but they weren’t major, not like the burns, breaks, and fractures. 
It broke her heart to see him like that.
“Y’know, he really needs you right now. He’s probably needed you for a long time. Same way you’ve needed him.” 
She nodded her head at Sam, jaw clenched and brows knit together, as she blinked rapidly, trying to force the tears away at the sight of Joaquin unconscious in the hospital bed.
“I can’t do this Sam.” With that she’d walked off in the opposite direction, wiping her tears away as fast as possible, but it was no use, they’d kept falling.
Washington D.C. Air Force Base, Two Weeks Prior
To say that it was easy getting Y/n on and off base over the time span of a week would’ve been a bold faced lie, Sam had to pull several strings for it to happen, especially considering her not so subtle fight with several members of their military police unit. It would’ve been easier if she hadn't won the fight by a landslide. He had to pull the Captain America card several times, and even stated that he was taking her under his wing.
Once she was officially allowed on base, and considering that’s also where his main headquarters was based out of, it was much easier for her to have somewhere to be while Joaquin was in the hospital on the opposite end of the Air Force campus. She hadn’t gone to see him again, instead she’d spent her time bothering Sam, hacking into random systems, and going through their records.
She’d even managed to pull the records on the super soldier serum that she’d been injected with, she found out its origins, even found records of illegal tests, experiments, and medical data from overseas that had been discovered through a series of raids and top secret missions.
Every single day Sam would ask if she wanted to go see him, he’d try to convince her, and she’d always decline. He’d even mentioned that Joaquin had asked for her a few times. 
Although he wasn’t fully conscious. 
So she’d decided that maybe it was time to go see him, she couldn’t hide from seeing him forever.Sure she was mean to him, and she did push him away, but she’d never ever wished harm onto him, and she never would. At one point in time he’d meant the world to her, and if Dr. Raynor was right about anything, she was right about the fact that Y/n needed to work on opening up to people again, and letting them in.
So she left Sam’s office space and made her way to the hospital, glaring at a few officers that had given her questioning looks. By the time she’d made it to the hospital she was nervous, so nervous that she couldn’t bring herself to go into his room, she’d managed to get directions to his floor and now she was standing outside of the door, arms crossed as she tried to give herself a mental pep talk.
Then her soul had practically left her body the second an older woman spoke to her.
“Going inside sweetheart? You’ve been out here for about twenty two minutes now.” 
Y/n slowly shook her head at the older nurse, taking note of her badge that read ‘Shirley ICU RN’. Her hair was fully grey and pulled up into a ponytail, she couldn’t have been taller than Joaquin’s abuela—the woman standing at a whopping 5’1—and she was full of life.
“Uh no, I don’t think he’d want me in there with him, not the person I am today at least.” 
She shook her head at that, raising a single brow.“I think it sounds like you don’t want to be in there because of the person you are today, y’know, I saw the way you looked at him when you’d first came last week. I don’t know your history with Captain Torres, but I know he means a lot to you. Remember sweetheart, holding grudges only does harm in the end, it’s easier to forgive and keep moving forward.”
With that she reassuringly patted Y/n’s forearm, offered another smile, then made her way down the hall towards another room.
When Sam had gone looking for Y/n to ask if she was going to come see Joaquin today, she wasn’t there, and naturally he , but after about fifteen minutes he’d found the note that she left on his desk that read ‘Going to go see him’.
That’s how he found her sitting in the uncomfortably stiff cushioned chair beside his hospital bed, tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes, looking right at Joaquin as she held his right hand with her own, or rather she held onto his right hand even though his stayed open.
She hadn’t noticed Sam at first, too busy sniffling as her eyes kept retracing the burns along his shoulder and neck, the previous dressing had been removed, the nurses stating that it would be good for the burn to ‘breathe’—whatever the hell that meant. Sam had also watched as she reached over with her left hand, slightly brushing the loose curls along his hairline back.
He was typically very put together, his hair never really fell out of place, and Y/n knew that, he’d always been particular about how he liked his hair.
She shook her head at him, eyes tracing each and every ridge, line, and curve of his face. 
“You’re such an asshole,” she’d mumbled, looking at him.
“Glad you finally gave him a visit.” 
Her eyes widened as she sat up, left hand instantly moving away from Joaquin, but she’d instinctively squeezed his right/ The moment she was about to respond to Sam with a witty remark, Joaquin had squeezed her hand.
Sam caught the movement too, his eyes widening as he approached the bed, now standing at the foot of it as he glanced at Joaquin, who’s features were slowly but surely moving, brows knit together, his eyes squeezed shut even harder, then he slowly opened them, blinking a few times, struggling to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights in combination with the sun shining in from outside.
“S-sunshine?” his voice was hoarse, throat dry, and he was confused as he started to process everything around him.
“Glad to see you’re finally waking up, kid” 
He slowly nodded his head, easily seeing Sam in front of him, however he didn’t register Y/n next to him, not until he went to move his hand and realized someone was holding it, then he shifted his head a bit, rolling it to the side, a little groggy still as his vision focused on the woman beside him.
He could feel her squeezing his hand, and he let out a slight laugh. Although it didn’t really sound like a laugh, more like a dry breathy cough.
Then one of the nurses walked into the room, she was an older woman who had taken the time to speak with Y/n before she’d gone into the hospital room, giving her a few pieces of helpful advice about actually being there for someone. 
The nurse smiled at the sight of Joaquin waking up, and she approached the bed with a small cup of water, taking the time to raise his bed, letting him sit up a bit more before helping him with the water.
The entire time Y/n didn’t let go of his hand, and he’d made the effort to hold onto hers as well.
“It’s good you’re awake Captain Torres, we were getting a bit worried about our resident hero.” 
He nodded his head groggily, smiling slightly.
Her assessment took about ten minutes, she’d asked him several questions to see what he remembered to judge his cognitive function, and she’d also asked him to move certain body parts of his, which he could mostly do. It was a bit uncomfortable, but it showed that while he was injured, it wasn’t anything debilitating.
Everyone was quiet as she took his vitals, making several notes before letting them know that she’d let his care team know that he was awake.
He finally looked over at Y/n again, a small smile on his face “Sunshine, how long was I out?” His voice was still hoarse, but it sounded a bit better, as if he was getting used to talking again.
“Consistently? A week, but they said you were in and out for the first week.” 
He nodded his head at that before looking over at Sam. “Did I at least look cool in the air?” 
She lightly slapped him on his side, meanwhile Sam shook his head, hands in his pockets with a small smile on his face.
“Yes, you looked cool in the air. Now I’m gonna give you two some time.I’ll be back in a bit, I’m sure you have a lot to talk about." With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Joaquin took a deep breath, now looking over at her again, meanwhile she did her best to avoid his stare, gaze moving around the room, taking in the small details that she truly didn’t care for such as the small crack in the drywall above the door, the several wires behind the bed, all tangled as they connected the medical machinery to the bed, a power source, and most importantly Joaquin.
She’d even realized that the table on the opposite side of him didn’t match the table closest to her, it was clearly the older version of the side table.
“Have you been crying?” 
She rolled her eyes at him, silently nodding her head 
“Why?” 
That had her looking at him as if he had three heads, eyes squinted as she craned her neck back a bit.“Why have I been crying? I dunno because I had to watch you get shot out of the air by a goddamn missile then crash land into the ocean? Plus you’ve been hospitalized for two weeks, one of which involved a medically induced coma?!” 
He slowly nodded his head, squeezing her hand again.
“I thought you hated me.” 
She took a deep breath at that, jaw clenched as she shook her head.“No you moron, I don’t hate you, I just—I dunno okay Dr. Raynor has had me thinking and I guess talking to Nurse Shirley and just—just-fuck shut up!” 
He nodded his head slowly at her frustration, he was still a little groggy, and it was clear that whatever pain medications they had him on were strong.
He looked down at himself, doing his best to see his lower chest and lower body, noticing the few wires and patches under his hospital gown, and he’d even been able to see the burn along his chest, it was clear he’d screwed up going after that missile, he just wanted to impress Sam. Hell, he wanted to impress the entire world.
“I missed you, y’know.”
She shook her head at his words, bottom lip quivering.“Of course you did” 
He nodded at that, now looking at her again, and this time, she couldn’t help but get closer, leaning into his space as she brushed his curls away from his face, doing her best to fix his hair. He smiled at her look of focus, the same concentrated look that she’d had since they were kids.
Her brows were furrowed and it was clear that she’d been biting her tongue slightly with her teeth, lips barely spread as she focused on what she was doing.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your graduation, I didn’t get the letter on time.”
His voice was quiet, and that was what finally broke her, the tears were flowing along her cheeks while she looked at him, shaking her head as she nodded.
“I’m sorry I held it against you, but Jesus, I’ve never felt more alone, I didn’t have anyone. Then I needed you and you just, you weren’t there—and it hurt so fucking bad.” 
He nodded at that, a singular tear of his own sliding down his face. “It was hard, wasn’t it?” 
She nodded at his question, sniffling, squeezing his hand a little tighter.Harder than anything I’ve ever experienced. I guess that's why it was so easy to fall into shitty habits and routines.” 
He nodded at that, eyes trailing along her figure, taking in her disheveled state. She’d been stressed, that much was obvious.“Yeah, you’ve got quite the rap sheet now.” He was teasing her, and for a second, things felt normal, it felt like they were seventeen in Miami again, going back and forth with each other while sitting outside on the hood of her dad’s truck. 
“What can I say, being a criminal mastermind was quite the regrettable career choice out of college.” 
He raises both brows.“I’d say so, too.” 
And in that moment, they’d both realized that she was still close to him, she could’ve moved at any point in time, but she didn’t. His eyes took in the details of her face, slowly but surely taking note of everything that had changed about her over the years, there wasn’t much, truthfully she looked almost the same, just a little older now.
The same way that he’d grown up, so had she.
Then he was leaning forward, ignoring the radiating pain from his shoulder and his ribcage, slowly lifting his left hand until it was resting against her face.
Neither of them had moved away.
Her gaze had shifted from his eyes to his lips, back and forth, and she wasn’t sure if it was the overwhelming emotions rushing through her, or the close proximity of Joaquin, or maybe even a mixture of both, but she’d been the one to lean closer, connecting their lips.
The kiss was soft and careful, just as it was sweet and gentle. 
He smiled against her lips, they moved slowly in sync with one another, and she squeezed his right hand again, her left hand now finding its way to his jaw as she kissed him.
Once they’d finally pulled apart she rested her forehead against his.“Promise me you won’t get shot out of the fucking sky again” 
He laughed. “Only if you promise me you won’t go back to being a war criminal.” 
She rolled her eyes, giving him one last quick peck before standing up fully. “I mean, I guess I could give Sam’s plan a shot.”
Washington D.C. Air Force Base, Present Day
Joaquin’s major rehabilitation plan involved a multitude of physical therapy, specialist visits, and most importantly, he had to stay on base. Meaning, he couldn’t leave the Air Force base unless it was on a work related trip that didn’t involve being the Falcon.
Even after sustaining his injuries the doctors were a bit shocked that he was up and moving around so quickly, it’d been about two weeks since his accident, and one week since he’d been fully awake and functional. They tried to get him to stay in the hospital, stating that they would be able to move him to a more comfortable room, but he swiftly declined, stating that if he had to be on base, he’d prefer to be in his office space, considering it also had a somewhat private attached living quarters.
It wasn’t the biggest living area, it was practically the size of a studio apartment, but it was enough for him to actually have his own space. Well, almost his own space.
Instead of him being Y/n’s babysitter, she was his. 
Sam had advised her that he trusted her enough at this point to make sure Joaquin was alright, it also helped that the two of them were on a genuine speaking basis again, and following their kiss two weeks ago, they’d been friends again.
They truly were the epitome of old friends that could catch up in the time span of an hour, it was as if nothing had changed, as if they hadn’t gone nine years without seeing one another. 
The day that he’d woken up, following their kiss, they’d talked for hours about anything and everything. She’d told him about the less than legal activities that she’d been involved in, even did her best to describe her stint in Madripoor before and after being injected with the serum. That was something that did worry Joaquin, especially considering she couldn’t really piece those memories all the way together.
But she’d reassured him that there were no lasting harmful side effects of the serum, her body had adjusted to it, and now it was just a part of her whether she liked it or not.
He’d told her about his different missions, even let her know about the day that he’d met Sam, which she did tease him about, knowing that the Falcon was his childhood hero. 
Then he was moved into the lackluster studio space attached to his shared office with Sam, and Y/n had spent two days cleaning and organizing it, the first day was about cleaning, the second she’d been driving to Baltimore to get their things, then she’d practically bullied some of the men that typically worked under Joaquin into helping her move things.
Sure she could’ve done it on her own, but everything was bulky all together and it would’ve taken more than one trip.
Joaquin still hadn’t fully processed that Y/n was fully back in his life again, she’d apologized profusely for the way she’d been treating him, he knew that she was hurting, he also knew that she wasn’t the best when it came to coping with her emotions. 
He’d forgiven her a week into having her back in his life.
But she didn’t need to know that, nor did she need to know that she had him wrapped around her finger. He’d do anything and everything for her. 
He’d always been that way when it came to her.
What he hadn’t expected was the immediate resurgence of the feelings that he’d harbored for her when they were younger, the same feelings that he’d tried to rationalize the day he’d left for bootcamp. He was never able to truly define them, he couldn’t exactly let himself fully accept and acknowledge that he’d been in love with his childhood best friend.
Not now and not then, well maybe now. Things were different, they were adults now, adults who would most likely be spending a lot more time together for a while, plus she wasn’t on the run and he wasn’t somewhere overseas.
They were currently in the main office, Y/n was busy researching super soldier serum, she’d found herself heavily invested in this over the past few weeks, and in her downtime she’d take advantage of the various softwares and technologies they had. 
It was a good distraction.
She was currently reviewing the various interrogation tapes and video diaries from one of the last few hydra bases that had managed to survive well into the blip. It was remote, somewhere in the middle of Russia’s countryside, and the diaries documented failed experiments, potential recreations of the Red Skull, and even notes on how to adjust and ‘train’ soldiers like The Winter Soldier himself.
She stood in front of one of the large table-top touch screen monitors, gaze focused on different feeds, manuscripts, and translations.
Meanwhile Joaquin was seated on the large sectional, his feet propped up on the small coffee table in front of him while his laptop was in his lap where he was supposed to be doing some work and reviewing some encrypted data that Sam had sent over.
However, his gaze was held on Y/n, more specifically, on her lower half. It was hot outside, so she’d been wearing shorts a lot more often, however these shorts-if one could even call them that, were so short that anytime she bent forward he could see the bottom of her ass, and it had him biting his bottom lip while blushing. 
Not to mention they weren’t exactly fitted shorts, but they weren’t overly loose, and he was positive they were made of something soft like cotton based on the way the fabric sat. Then she’d shift and he’d see the way her thighs and ass would slightly jiggle, and at this rate, he was losing his internal battle.
They hadn’t even spoken about the kiss, maybe it was a one time thing, or maybe it was a pity kiss on her behalf. He tried to blame it on the emotions of the moment, but truly, he’d wanted to kiss her for a long time. 
Then she dropped her notebook, mumbling a quick ‘shit’ before stepping to the side, now fully bending over, back arched while she reached to grab the notebook that had slid between the desk itself and one of Sam’s large filing cabinets. 
The entire time she was mumbling curse words and his jaw was practically on the floor. The way he was looking at her was down right perverted, his entire face was on fire at this rate and he was positive he was sweating.
But he couldn’t tear his gaze away as he traced his eyes over the span of her legs, then towards her ass, and now her legs were somewhat spread and the thin little shorts she had on were riding up, meanwhile the more she moved, the more the fat of her ass moved, and the more she spread her legs, the more prevalent the outline of her cunt between her thighs became.
The fact that she had on thin little red panties wasn’t helping either, his brain was short circuiting.
Then she’d grabbed the notebook, standing back up and doing a small victory cheer, except when she turned around to check on Joaquin, his gaze was on the laptop screen in front of him and he would’ve looked normal if he hadn’t been so red and flushed.
It was somewhat concerning, especially because she’d been so involved in her own research and task at hand, that she hadn’t realized he’d been staring at her. So, she placed her notebook on the table in front of her then waltzed right towards him.
He was praying she didn’t catch him staring, and he was also angling his laptop to hide his very evident ‘issue’ that had occurred because of his staring.
“Torres, are you okay?” she blinked a few times, now looking down at him, moving while very clearly examining him. 
He nodded his head and did his best to act nonchalant, pretending to type something, meanwhile he had a small sticky note open on his laptop and was typing random letters into it. 
But then she got closer, shutting his laptop to gather his full attention, her brows were knit together, her eyes quickly scanning his figure over and over again, double checking that she hadn’t missed anything or that something wasn’t wrong. 
Then to make matters worse, she was even closer now, one of her legs brushing against his while she propped herself up with her other knee on the sofa cushion beside him, now leaning into his space, before placing the back of her hand on his forehead, then his cheek.
“Why the hell are you burning up?! Do I need to call one of the nurses?!” 
He shook his head, gently swatting her hands away while avoiding her gaze“I-I’m uh fine. Trust me I’m just a little hot—it’s fine” she squinted her eyes at him, not buying his horrible lie.
“Tell me the truth, are you feeling okay?” Then she grabbed his chin, slowly tilting his head towards her, both of her brows now raised as she looked at him with an expectant look on her face.
The motion shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. It also didn’t help that he was already turned on.
“I’m fine, I promise, just hot ‘s all” 
She nodded.“Okay, you want me to turn the air on?” 
He shook his head at her.
“But you said you’re hot Torres” 
He groaned, nodding his head while grasping her wrist, pulling her hand away from his face slowly and carefully.“I’m fine, it’s probably a side effect from the pain meds or something.” 
She raised a single brow at that, now finally catching him in his lies. “You’re not taking any pain meds, you literally argued with me about it yesterday because you said you’re not gonna risk getting reliant on narcotics, and heat flashes sure as hell are not a side effect of ibuprofen.”
The way that she was concerned about him was also turning him on, it was so nurturing and sweet, but also a little mean, and honestly, this was the worst time for him to be acting like some kind of horny teenager. He’d always known Y/n was attractive, but this was absolutely insane to him.
It could’ve also been the fact that she was so comfortable around him too, prior to this current living arrangement, she’d never worn anything like that in the other house, not for the almost month that they’d lived together. Now she was walking around in little shorts, and he couldn’t even think about the top that she’d worn last night.
She’d been sleeping on the sectional, stating that she wasn’t going to just start sharing a bed with him, and then she’d told him that she’d slept in way worse places than their expensive ‘cloud of a sofa’ when he tried to protest.
But it made sense to go to sleep comfortably, however, he hadn’t expected for her to walk into the room and give him his antibiotics for the shrapnel wounds wearing a little pair of shorts and a fitted, cropped tank top with nothing under. He’d very clearly seen the outline of her breasts, alongside her nipples poking through the thin fabric, and he did his best not to watch the way her chest bounced as she walked. 
Maybe he was acting like this because he hadn’t had sex in a while, but sex wasn’t ever a huge priority for him, sure he slept with people from time to time, but he didn’t go out of his way to seek out people to sleep with.
The last time he’d thought about Y/n like this was when they were nineteen and he’d actually managed to come home to visit for the winter holidays. She’d shown up to his family’s annual christmas party in a fitted off the shoulder red dress with a white faux fur neckline and a similar trim at the bottom of the dress.
Everyone from the neighborhood had been invited, plus his extended family, and their friends. It was always a huge deal for everyone to come together around the holidays, but what he hadn’t expected was for her to show up like a Christmas vixen.
What had gotten to him though, was when she’d bent over to grab something from the oven for his abuela, and he’d been flashed her barely-covered ass, only adorned in what he assumed was a thin black thong.
He’d also made a scene out of it, rushing behind her to pull her dress down some before harshly whispering to her that she needed to ‘put her ass away’, which led to her shooting up, nearly dropping the hot pan in her hands while she whispered that she’d forgotten to put on her shorts because she was rushing out of the house.
After that, he made sure to walk her back to her house so she could change, then they walked back together. But that night, all he could think about was how she looked bent over in her skimpy panties and her little dress, and it was sending his mind into overdrive.
“Hello, earth to Joaquin?!” She snapped her fingers a few times in front of his face, and he’d blinked and finally realized that she’d been talking to him the entire time. But now he was stuck on the sound of his name from her lips.
“What’d you say?” 
She rolled her eyes, arms crossed in front of her chest.“I said earth to Torres, I’ve been talking to you for like five minutes and you’ve been zoned out thinking about whatever the fuck.” 
He slowly nodded, brows now knit together as he stared at her before shaking his head.“No, you didn’t call me Torres.” 
She sighed, hands now on her hips, irritation evident on her features.“Okay, big deal, I called you your name, I’m trying to make sure you’re okay and you’re over here in la la land! I should kick your ass!” 
He shook his head at that, now leaning back into the couch, except usually when he’d relax, he’d move his laptop, but he made no effort to do so, so mindlessly Y/n reached forward to grab it, then he surged forward too, grasping it and holding it in place with a panicked expression.
He’d also lightly shoved her back, making her laugh as she tried to regain her footing, however she hadn’t processed that she’d still been leaning into the sofa, so when he’d pushed her, she’d started falling backwards in a fit of giggles—but instead of catching herself, she simply grasped his left arm and had managed to pull him down with her.
Both of them were now lying on the ground or rather, she was on the ground while he was above her. They were laughing at one another, except Joaquin had barely managed to balance himself on his left arm, and it was a bit wobbly, which had them even closer than before. 
Then they both suddenly got quiet, now realizing how close they’d actually been.
His gaze was glued to her lips, meanwhile her eyes were trailing his features again, then she paused on his lips, and truthfully, neither of them were sure who’d made the first move, but their lips were connected again, except this kiss wasn’t slow, soft, or sweet.
It wasn’t anything like the kiss they’d shared a few days ago.
This kiss was fueled by frustration from both ends, as if they’d been pouring years of emotion back into one another. One of her hands was now in his hair, lightly tugging at the strands while her other hand slowly slid beneath his shirt, fingers gently running along the warm ridges of skin.
They were both fighting for control, it was clear that Joaquin wanted to win, however, the second she pulled his hair with a bit more force, he groaned against her lips, and his arm wobbled.
That had her pulling back, brows knit together as she caught her breath, looking from his kiss swollen lips to his eyes, then towards his left arm. She’d then realized that his right hand had been lightly caressing her jaw, however the position looked uncomfortable for him, and she knew he was straining too hard.
“Get up.” 
He blinked a few times, caught off guard by the sudden demand, then she was shoving him, making sure it wasn’t too hard. He could feel her hesitating when her hand was closer to his right shoulder.
He slowly nodded, listening to her.
“Did I do something wrong?” 
She shook her head, now standing up before giving him an expectant look, so he slowly got off of the ground, and he also made sure to check that his laptop that had hit the floor was alright—it was okay enough.
Then she pushed him back onto the couch.
“Y’know you really shouldn’t be over extending yourself, Torres.” 
He nodded his head, watching as she easily straddled his lap—then both of their eyes widened the second she was properly situated against him. There were a few moments of silence before Y/n started laughing again.
“You’re seriously hard right now? Wait,is that why you were being so weird?!”
He groaned again, this time covering his face with his hands feeling overly embarrassed as if she wasn’t the one on his lap right now. It also didn’t help that with each movement, it was as if she was slowly grinding against him and he wanted nothing more than to moan.
She was still giggling, shaking her head while she gently pried his hands from his face.
“Oh c’mon Torres, it’s only natural, don’t be shy about it,” she smirked, her teasing tone had him nodding his head, then she leaned closer to him, trailing a few open mouthed kisses along his jaw, then moving towards the left side of his neck, lightly nipping at his skin, tongue trailing over the marks she’d left behind.
Meanwhile she slowly moved her hips against him, letting out a few gasps, enjoying the friction against her core. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging into the soft skin while he leaned his head back and a bit to the side, giving her more room. 
Her hands were shifting his shirt up, nails lightly tracing along his abdomen, the feeling making his mind fuzzy.
“Take it off, Torres.” 
He blinked a few times, nodding his head at her words as he scrambled to pull his shirt off, tossing it to the side somewhere, then her lips were back on him, but each time he tried to lean forward-she’d push him back against the cushions. 
Then her lips were back on him, except now she was slowly moving lower and lower, leaving a trail of minor bite marks and bruises along his skin before she was situated between his legs, now on her knees looking up at him. He hadn’t even realized that she’d been on the ground, his eyes had been shut while he leaned back, enjoying the feeling of her lips and teeth against his skin.
He’d been dreaming about this moment for years.
Seeing her looking up at him from between his legs had his mind short circuiting, then she started undoing his belt while still holding eye contact with him.
Truthfully, it was a feat in and of itself, she’d been nervous, but she was doing her best to play it off. Once she managed to undo his belt, she raised a single brow at him, as if asking for his permission, which had him practically whimpering as he nodded his head.
His eyes were slightly hooded, lips parted while he tried to steady his breathing, and he’d kept running his left hand through his hair. 
By the time that she’d undid his jeans and slid her hand into his pants, he was already biting down on his lip, chest rapidly rising and falling at the feeling of her hand against him, the only thing stopping her from actually touching him had been the thin layer of fabric separating the both of them.
She’d been palming him over his briefs, a smirk on her face at his quiet moans.
Then she tugged on his jeans a bit more and pulled his cock out, her eyes widening at the size of it, he was bigger than she’d expected, and he was certainly thicker than she’d thought. But it almost made sense, Joaquin had never really been scrawny, he’d always been broad, but now he’d filled out a lot more, the years in the Air Force had been good to his physique.
“Shit you don’t have to—” 
She cut him off, shushing him as she scooted a bit closer, now leaning over him as she slowly spit onto the tip of his cock before spreading it around with her thumb. “Let me take care of you Joaquin.” 
He nodded his head, her voice so soft and sweet, his heart was practically hammering out of his chest. 
“O-okay—” then he moaned, it wasn’t a quiet moan either, it was loud and throaty. She’d wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock, tongue swirling around the thick mushroom tip, then she pulled back, tracing her tongue along the weeping slit, the pleasure made him shudder.
She wrapped her right hand around his thick shaft, slowly raising it up and down, spitting on his cock again, using it as a lubricant to keep her motions fluid. 
“You’re always saving everyone, always being the hero, taking care of everything else. Can I take care of you this time?” 
He nodded his head, his entire body was on fire, it was as if he’d been possessed, maybe she was possessing him, maybe she was actually a witch and this is how’d she’d kill him.
Or maybe, just maybe, the love that he’d thought he’d been over, the love that he’d felt for her was making things one hundred times more intense.
“I wanna hear you say it, baby.” 
He whimpered, brows knit together as he looked down at her.“Yes-please-do it-do anything you want to me-fuck ‘m all yours, promise” 
That made her heart flutter.
Then she was taking him into her mouth again, inch by inch, and when she’d finally gagged on him, he let out another guttural moan, struggling to keep his hands still, then she’d looked back up at him and he felt like he was about to pass out.
She took her time with him, slowly bobbing her head along his cock, letting her spit trail along his thick shaft, some of it even dribbling down her chin while she used her right hand on what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. 
He finally placed his hand in her hair, it was a bit frizzy and wavy from being in braids and he’d gathered what he could, holding it in a ponytail, keeping it out of her face while she focused on sucking his cock. She’d even hollowed her cheeks, moving herself a bit faster, taking a little more of him down her throat.
This was downright sinful.
His ears were practically ringing as he fought the urge to buck his hips into her mouth, but the faster she moved her head, the closer he was to cumming.
Then she pulled back, a string of spit connecting her lips to the tip of his cock, he blinked a few times, heavy breaths leaving his lips when he watched her smirk, then she was leaning down, her tongue tracing the veins on the underside of his cock for a few seconds before she’d moved lower-that has his eyes widening.
She didn’t hesitate to trail her tongue along his balls, then she’d taken them in her mouth and he’d pulled her hair so hard it stung, but she’d just moaned, moving back up to his dick again, tongue back along the shaft before she wrapped her lips around the tip, tongue swirling around it again.
Meanwhile both of her hands were pumping and slightly twisting along his shaft, he’d bucked his hips a few times but she’d ignored it, watching as he writhed above her.
“Fuck-baby I’m gonna cum-fuck-you gotta stop before I cum-” he was borderline whining, voice a bit higher as he tried to catch his breath and tried to hold back, then she moved again.
“I want you to cum, so cum Joaquin” she’d practically demanded it, and that sent him over the edge, as her hands moved, he was cumming, thick spurts of cum shooting from his cock, trailing along her fingers, then she’d pulled the head back into her mouth, swallowing the rest of it before moving back, licking along her fingers before using her thumb to slowly drag the mixture of spit and cum along her chin into her mouth, dragging it against her bottom lip.
He thought she was done, he was already getting soft, but clearly she was a fan of torturing him.
She’d brought the sensitive tip of his cock back into her mouth, sucking on it as she stared at him, moaning around it for a few seconds, as if she was milking him dry.
The overstimulation made his eyes water as he shook his head at her.
“Baby, fuck-give me a minute-please-oh-” he whimpered when she took more of him into her mouth, lightly running her teeth along the sides of his cock before pulling away, letting him go with a ‘pop’. Then she kissed his tip, and out of everything she’d just done to him, that was downright filthy.
“You gonna let me keep goin’ Quino?” his jaw dropped at the nickname, watching as she stood up, easily slipping her shorts off, then straddled his lap again, leaving just enough room between them for her to spit on his cock and go back to fisting it. 
To say he was overly sensitive was an understatement, however that hadn’t stopped him from getting hard, not when she was on his lap making him pant like a dog. 
“Don’t call me that right now.” 
She laughed at his strained voice, leaning a little closer to him, resting her forehead against his as she kept her motions up.“Why not, Quino?” 
He moaned, shaking his head.“F-fuck, you know why.” 
She shrugged at that, moving back a little bit, she looked at him as if she was on death row and he was her last meal. “No I don’t Quino, you gonna tell me why I can’t call you that?, I’ve always called you that.” Her tone was mocking and degrading, he shook his head again, now bucking his hips into her hand, watching her bite her bottom lip, he was hard again, his head was spinning, his heart was racing, and he was five second away from telling her he’d been in love with her his entire life.
He moaned, using his left hand to grab her neck, pulling her into a kiss, practically slamming his lips into hers. 
She was surprised by the motion, especially considering she could still taste him on her tongue. 
Joaquin didn’t care about that, he was practically drowning in her. The kiss was rough, it was all teeth and tongue, the both of them swallowing one another’s moans as she ground herself against one of his thighs while slowly and lazily playing with his cock.
He pulled away first “I need to be inside of you-” and as he tried to push her off, attempting to switch positions, she used her enhanced strength to push him back into his spot while shaking her head.
“You're still hurt, or did cumming make you forget that?” 
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sunshine” 
She shushed him again, giving him a pointed look.“No, your shoulders still hurt, you have a long recovery, no way in hell you’re about to make things worse because you want to have sex.” 
He groaned, nose scrunched with his eyebrows furrowed.“So we’re not having sex anymore?” he sounded unsure of himself, and that made her laugh again, shaking her head, their previously heated exchange now filled with a combination of their laughter. She smiled at him, rolling her eyes playfully.
“Do you trust me, Quino?” 
He groaned at the nickname, nodding his head, trying to ignore the butterflies he was feeling in his abdomen. He felt like he did the last night they’d spent together after high school, he was undoubtedly in love with her, and that love was all consuming. 
“That’s not my name.” 
She shushed him, moving her body forward now, easily sliding her panties to the side before slowly gliding his cock against her sopping cunt, practically coating him in her essence, teasing him.
“Yes it is, or would you prefer Joaquin?” She leaned closer to him, lips brushing against the shell of his ear “You want me to call you Joaquin when you’re inside of me? Tell you how good you feel against my tight little cunt, huh Joaquin?” 
He moaned again, eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of her lining his tip up with her entrance, then she was sliding down,taking all of him.
She moaned at the stretch, resting her head against his shoulder as she took him inch by inch until she was stuffed to the hilt, clenching around his thick cock,whimpering at the burning stretch.
“‘S so fuckin big-feels so fuckin good” 
He nodded at that, his hands now holding onto her waist, fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise trying to keep his composure. Then she’d fluttered around him over and over again while slowly grinding herself against him-enjoying the feeling of being so full.
“Should’ve done this a long time ago-shouldn’t have let you go so easy.” Her words were quiet as she finally started moving, bringing her body upwards, then slowly back down, setting a slow pace-rambling against the crook of his neck. 
“Missed you so much, Quino” 
He moaned, nodding his head as she moved against him, hands now moving, pulling her even closer to him.“I-oh shit-missed you too-S-sunshine.” He was stuttering at this point, head thrown back as she bounced on his cock, she was gradually building her pace, doing her best to keep things gentle, to make sure he’d be okay.
She kissed along his throat again, except this time, she moved, shifting towards his right side, peppering soft open mouthed kisses along his scarred skin, the doctors had said the burns were pretty superficial around his neck and shoulders, he’d scar, but it wasn’t as major as his other injuries.
If this wasn’t genuine love, he had no idea what love was supposed to feel like.
She was moving faster now, her moans a little louder against his skin, it was as if the only sounds in the room were their shared breathy moans, the sloshing sound of her cunt, and the sound of their skin. 
Then she reached between her thighs, fingers easily finding her clit as she kissed him again, it was difficult to focus on kissing him, their lips were moving, but it was sloppy, they’d been moaning against one another while she bounced a bit faster.
He used his left hand to move hers out of the way, two fingers now focused on rubbing fast half-circles against her swollen bud-earning several high pitched whimpers as she kept her movements up, cunt clenching around his cock as she lost her rhythm.
“I’m gonna cum-fuck Quino I’m gonna cum.” She was whimpering, her forehead resting against one of his shoulders again as she grasped onto his forearms.
“Just like that, you’re doing so good-so good for me baby.”
She nodded her head, feeling herself getting closer and closer to the edge.
Meanwhile he was doing everything in his power not to cum again, his mind was hazy and his only real goal was to make her cum first, he knew she was close, so he started bucking his hips up into her-knowing she wouldn’t argue with him right now-not when she was like this.
That sent her over the edge, moaning out a string of expletives and his name, alongside a few jumbled words, begging him to cum again.
“W-where?” 
She whimpered again, hips still moving slowly, “Inside-fuck need it inside, Quino.”
That pushed him over, and in his own orgasmic haze he hadn’t realized what he’d been moaning.
“Fuck-fuck-so perfect-shit I love you-oh god love you so much” 
The both of them sat in a comfortable silence as they came down from their highs, then she slowly started sliding off of him, wincing at the soreness of her cunt, followed by the feeling of his cum leaking out of her.
She slowly stood up, and instead of saying anything, she simply gave him an expectant look, that look resulted in the both of them being in the shower together, she was washing his hair for him, the intimacy of it all made her heart flutter even if he was complaining that she was doing it wrong.
“How the hell do you wash hair wrong, Quino? I have more hair than you, I think I know what I’m doing” her response was a bit snappy, however the few giggles that left her lips after reassured him that she wasn’t mad at him, besides he wasn’t even supposed to be lifting his shoulders too much, she was doing him a favor.
“Okay, there, now rinse it pretty boy.”He nodded at that, looking back over his shoulder, smiling at her.
When he was done rinsing his hair, he’d volunteered to wash her back, it made both of them laugh, however as she stood in front of him, he took the time to glide his fingers along the deep indented scars in her skin, brows furrowed as he realized this was what she had left to show fro everything she’d been put through for years.
“I’m sorry this happened to you.” 
She shook her head at that. “Don’t be, you should see the other guys,” she laughed softly, rolling her shoulders back when his touch tickled her, a smile on her face.
She turned to face him now, and they held eye contact for a few moments, as if they’d been taking one another in for the first time in a long time.“Is what you said true?” 
He blinked a few times, caught off guard by the question—trying to rack his brain to figure out what she was referring to. 
Then she raised a single brow “You don’t remember do you? Y’know it’s very in character for you to confess your love to me while literally cumming inside of me, then forgetting that you said something so major.”
His eyes widened, practically popping out of his skull.“Well- I uh, y’know we’ve known each other for a long time, and uh-well I guess old feelings uh y’know resurfaced when we were, well doing that-” 
She cut him off with a smile “Doing that huh? We’re literally butt ass naked in a shower together and you can’t say having sex? Really Quino?” 
He scoffed.“Stop making fun of me when I’m trying to explain myself to you!” 
She laughed at him, a little louder than she meant to, then she tried to hold it in, biting her bottom lip, the same way she always had when they were younger.“Okay-sheesh-sorry lover boy-go on and tell me how much you love me.” She was teasing him now, and he couldn’t help but shake his head at that, droplets of water splashing her from the motion.
Then he got closer, wrapping his arms around her waist as he looked at her, their faces only a few inches apart at this rate, the water bouncing against their skin as he pulled them closer to the shower head.“You got me okay, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, you totally broke my heart when you were all cold to me for a month even if we hadn’t seen each other in years, you’ve always been the one for me, Sunshine, even if you are a reformed war criminal.” 
Her jaw dropped at his jokes, shoving him.“You asshole!” she couldn’t hold in her fit of giggles. “Is now a bad time to say that I wanted to kiss you on prom night?” he shook his head.
“No, because I wanted to kiss you too—but we can make up for lost time. Besides Sam said I need a long term babysitter. Okay, now it’s your turn to say you love me, too.” 
She laughed again, smiling at him as she held eye contact, then she kissed him, it was practically a peck.“I guess I love you too, you loser. Although it did take you crash landing into the ocean for me to realize that. Now can we please get out of the shower before I prune up like a raisin?” 
He raised a brow before reaching back to turn off the showerhead. “You do know that prunes and raisins are two different dried fruits right?”
-
Thanks for reading secksies <3
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dclovesdanny · 3 months ago
Text
Version two
Jazz Smith has made Lex Luther cry on three separate occasions, though she will remain adamant that the first and third time weren’t her fault. The first time, he cried because she thought he was an old man who was lost and he had to explain in detail who he was. The third time was firmly on Bruce Wayne’s shoulders. He was the one who had bumped into him, spilling his drink on his suit. Jazz was just trying to clean up the mess. How was she supposed to react when she saw the bomb strapped to his chest? Panic?
No, she simply made a fuss and used her minor tech abilities to make it look like the juice had turned off the bomb, leading to her loudly wondering why he was stupid enough to strap a fragile bomb to his chest. She just wanted to shake him, not make him cry.
(After that day, Oliver Queen hired her to work for him. Dinah quickly adopts Jazz emotionally, with Roy acting as a big brother. Lian adores her auntie Jazz)
Samantha Drake was a problem child, according to almost everyone who met her. She was a goth child who hated acting prim and proper like their parents wanted. Tim was the only one who understood her, supporting her veganism and later helping her prank Batman. (She and Bruce were rough and angry with each other in the beginning, but they still stayed in contact. Bruce grew to admire her stubbornness and conviction, while Sam could begrudgingly admit Bruce was a good man when he wanted to be.)
(She and Bruce never spoke about the night where they sat side by side on the clock tower. It was Jason’s death date, the first one since she and Tim had debuted as Robin and Crow. They never talked about how Sam admitted she knew grief, and she let herself tell Bruce a little about Danny. Only Alfred knew that the two spent the night reminiscing, sharing stories and anecdotes, until they arrived in the cave. None of them talked about the brief hug, the first hug Bruce had ever given her. They never acknowledged that night again.)
Tucker Thomas never left the Narrows, forging a birth certificate that labeled him as 19, even though he was barely 15. Duke didn’t call him on it. He visited often though, always keeping a suspicious eye on Bruce. He didn’t trust the man.
(Damian was the only one who bluntly asked him why he glared at Bruce. Tucker couldn’t figure out how to explain it at first, so he channeled his inner Danny. “He gives off fruitloop vibes. Gotta make sure he doesn’t start going all crazy with things like cloning or becoming obsessed with green goo.” Tucker immediately noticed how much Damian stiffened at that, but he didn’t say anything.)
Dante Constantine was only a child in demon years, though he looked like he was a teenager. He was doing home schooling for the time being as John worked with the bats to get papers made. He was a social and happy kid, smiling and chaotic but nothing cruel or barbed.
(John noticed how his son stared at the stars with a longing nothing seemed to satisfy. He noticed how warily Dante stared at the toaster, and how the terrible nightmares that caused his son to sob for hours often involved names like “Jazz” “Sam” “Tucker”. Most of all, he never forgot how his ex mentioned that Dante’s soul had been older, much older than it should be. John saw it too. He was more concerned in the slowly healing cracks in his son’s soul.)
Tonight, all four of them would be attending a party thrown by an old friend of Constantine’s.
Let the fun begin
.
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