If you think Eddie was being terribly mean to Buck in 8.09 when he said,
“I don’t like it any more than you do. But if you’re going to make this about me having to choose between you and my son, you’re going to lose every time.”
I’m going to assume one of the following things is happening.
—You’re forgot Buck’s an adult who is responsible for his own feelings.
—You forgot that Chris is Eddie’s legal responsibility.
—You forgot Eddie put Buck in his will as Christopher’s ward. And that Buck has cared for this child for the last 7 years and Eddie trusts that Buck would always put Chris first.
—You probably don’t like Eddie, period. And that’s a YOU problem.
i really do hate that any time there's an arc on 911 about a man of colour (eddie, chimney) doing anything that involves emotions and buck is involved in any way that is not overwhelmingly positive it turns into a certain part of the fandom racing to see who can take EVERYTHING eddie or chimney do in the worst faith the quickest
summary: you and joaquin try to reconnect-- it doesn't exactly go as joaquin had hoped, but he hasn't given up just yet.
pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader
wc: 1,727
gif credit: @gaybuckybarnesss
contents: 18+/minors dni, pining, longing, angst, dishonesty (from sma & it his heart is in the best place), KISSING
an: okay we're at it with a part two. i was on the phone with my sister while finishing this and she's convinced me to give yall at least FOUR parts so everyone say thank you j! pls don't ask to be on my taglist if you aren't 18+/have that in your bio <3
vuelve a mí masterlist
You should’ve known better truly. And even though you hadn’t, part of you thinks you should’ve said no. But, when Sam calls begging for your help, insisting that you’re the only person that can get Joaquin to take his meds, you want to help.
Or so you’d thought.
When you make it to Joaquin’s place, it’s a little strange. The last time you’d been to his place was because it was your place. And it wasn’t as nice and polished— you didn’t have a doorman when you lived together. Nevertheless, you sign in and head up to his floor in the elevator.
You’ll get in and get out. Implore him to stop being a brat and take his meds and then get out. The entire drive had been nothing but you hyping yourself up.
How were you supposed to look him in the eye after everything he’d said the last time you saw him? After you’d ignored his desperate pleas for you and answered none of his calls since.
It isn’t lost on you how unfair it is for you to show up now— especially for Sam. But you wanted Joaquin to get better…you needed him to. He had figured out a way to live life in a world without you in it, but you’re sure you couldn’t do the same.
Sam swings the door open before you can knock, his expression a mix of exasperation and relief.
“Thank god you’re here, he’s being a little shit,” He grabs you by your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. You’re about to tell him it’s no problem when he quickly switches your places, leaving you in Joaquin’s apartment and him in the hallway.
“I’ll be back!” He assures you before slamming the door in your face.
That’s when you realize—you’ve been set up. Joaquin is fine, probably training again. It’s been over a month since you last saw him in the hospital.
You’re afraid to turn around and see what’s waiting for you. Instead, stupidly you close your eyes, willing this to go away. You’re not ready to talk through this with him. You weren’t ready in the hospital and you aren’t ready now. When you’re lost to the deep spiral of your thoughts, you wonder if you’ll ever be ready. Somehow, either answer to that question makes your heart race.
“Not excited to see me, I guess?” Joaquin asks wryly.
“You set me up.”
“How else was I gonna get you to talk to me? You won’t answer my calls, which is very rude if you didn’t know.”
Your belly fills with that dreadful guilt and you rest your head against the door, “Joaquin…”
“For once I don’t have any expectations, cross my heart and hope to die. I just wanted to see you. And some part of you…wanted to see me too,” He adds, his voice uncharacteristically shy.
“It’s never been about me wanting to see you. I always want to see you I just—
“Won’t?” He supplies.
“Can’t,” You correct. “I can't, it's too painful.”
“More painful than this? Because I think we both agree—this fucking sucks.”
You aren’t sure why, but what he says gets you to turn around. There before you on his coffee table is an unfinished puzzle— one you thought had been thrown away along with the rest of you. The gesture nearly winds you, tears pooling in your eyes.
“Quino, what kind of life could I possibly give you when I don’t know who I am anymore?”
“You say that like I don’t know you. But I do. I always have,” He simply gazes at you, studying you for a moment before his lips curve into a small smile.
"You probably don't remember this, but there was this little boy at the park once— he must've been five, maybe six. We were reading on this bench, you were so comfortable with your head in my lap, feet propped up. But the boy, he was struggling to fly this ridiculous, tangled-up kite. His dad kept trying to help, but the poor kid was just about ready to give up. And then…you put your book down."
You tilt your head. "I don't remember that."
"I do. Because I remember you. I could never forget, even if I tried, baby. You walked over to that kid, knelt down next to him, and helped him untangle the strings. You showed him everything; how to hold it, when to run, how to wait for the wind. And when that kite finally lifted off the ground, I swear l've never seen a kid so happy. You just stood there, watching him, smiling like it was the easiest thing in the world to make a stranger's day better."
You exhale, shaking your head. "That doesn't even sound like me anymore."
“That's the thing, querida," he says softly, closing the gap between you so that he can grasp your hand. "It is you. No matter how much you feel like you've lost yourself, I promise you're still that person. The one who stops, who helps, who makes the world.”
You gaze down at your hands, sucked into the warmth of his skin against yours. Still you ask, “That was a long time ago. What if that’s not who I am anymore?”
“You didn’t have to show up to the hospital to make sure I was okay. Or come here to make sure I took my meds. Brillas como la luz, entiendes?”
“I…I don’t know, Quino. We can’t just go back to how things were, we’d be lying to ourselves. I mean, you’ve changed too.”
“People change. They still love each other— I still love you.”
Your eyes go wide at his candor. After all you’ve put him through, all the rejection, he was still brave enough to tell you he loved you. You swallow thickly, throat dry. You aren’t sure what to say, because if you open your mouth, the weight of it all—of him, of this—might crush you.
Joaquin takes in your overwhelmed expression and immediately pulls back, though he doesn’t deny his previous words. “Too fast? Yeah, too fast. Look just…help me do this puzzle? I’ve waited years to finish it with you. Please?”
That’s something you could say yes to, isn’t it?
“Sure, yeah. Let’s do it,” You agree, giving him a small smile.
The sight of your happiness makes his heart soar.
Once the two of you are sat beside each other at the coffee table, Joaquin dives right in. You stay put, simply watching him and after a few minutes he notices your lack of participation.
Gently, he nudges a piece of the puzzle closer to you. “C’mon, you still got it,” He encourages.
It’s enough for you to try, really try and soon the two of you fall into a groove, in your respective corners of the puzzle but always looking out for one another. Always ready to aid if the other is stumped in finding the next piece or where one fits. After working diligently, your corners start to bleed into each other and your fingers brush as you reach for the same piece.
“Oh—sorry— um—“ You stutter softly, unable to move your hand. You feel made of cement and thought you’re frozen on the outside, your mind is moving a mile a minute.
Move your hand. Move your hand first or break the silence or something. Do something—anything—other than sit here, drowning in the weight of his gaze.
Before you can do any of those things, Joaquin is leaning in, his mouth just barely ghosting yours. Familiarity takes over to your surprise, and you press forward, kissing him back.
That confirmation, your unexpected desire for him makes his belly warm. He kisses you more firmly, raising a hand to cup your chin and hold you in place. His mouth is soft— so so painstakingly soft— and for several moments all you can do is give into him— succumbing to his skillful kiss that makes your brain feel melty.
His hand starts to move, thumb tracing the shape of your jaw before his gentle grip lowers to your neck. You shiver against him, moaning which grants him the access to taste you. It’s the sensual brush of his tongue against yours that brings you back to reality.
You jerk back against the couch, eyes down as you wipe your mouth. “Quino,” You murmur breathlessly, unsure of what more to say. Your mouth feels like it’s on fire, the place where he touched you searing with heat.
“I’m sorry, it just sort of— you looked at me like that. No pude evitarlo, preciosa. No con lo hermosa que eres,” He murmurs, hand reflexively raising to cup your cheek.
You flinch away, nervous about what will happen if he touches you like that again. “Joaquin this is all just…it’s too much. I need time to think, to clear my head.
“It’s not a no.”
“It’s not a yes either,” You remind him gently.
“I know. But I’ll take it for now. Can I walk you out?” He asks hopefully, rising to his feet as you do.
“Just to the door…I need space, Quino.”
“Sure, hermosa. Whatever you say.”
Once you’re standing in the hallway, feeling a little more separated from him you turn around, meeting his intense gaze. “Thank you for tonight. You’re being so kind and patient with me, and I know it’s difficult but you’re doing it anyway.”
His eyes soften, gooey and warm as he looks at you. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I— I’ll call you, okay?”
“Alright,” He agrees.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, querida.”
Joaquin waits until the elevator doors close to shut his own door. He leans against the sturdy wood, a slow smile spreading across his face as he thinks about what just transpired. He got to spend time with you, to touch you and taste you for the first time in 7 years. This is the closest he’s ever been to getting you back and he’ll take it, even if it uses every drop of patience in his body.
He fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials Sam.
“Well?” Sam asks, skipping pleasantries.
The goofy grin on Joaquin’s face has his cheeks aching. “I think…I think it might’ve worked.”
Sam can hear the smile in his voice and wants every detail. “I’m on my way.”
must be 18+ to be added to the joaquin taglist! <3
Hiii!!! Absolutely love your Joaquin fics rn!! Could you write a Joaquin x fem!reader, who has captain marvels powers? Or atleast very similar. Maybe it takes places during the celestial fight during new world order, and maybe also the aftermath?
No Strings Attached | Joaquin Torres x Avenger!reader
Summary; you had an agreement, a simple arrangement, but feelings are always inevitable in these things
Word Count: 2.1k+
Warning: Smut! 18+ Only! PinV, oral (female receiving), a little dirty talk
A/N: So I’m doing the double today. How very efficient of me. Also I recall a wish for the shower scene I wrote the other day to have turned into something spicy so I figured I’d deliver under this ask. Enjoy.
You didn’t have the time or focus for a relationship and neither did Joaquin. You didn’t even live in the same state. But both working with Avengers on Avengers level missions, you often ran into each other and ended up working with one another every few months or so. And on the occasions when that did happen, you both had found a great way to let off a little bit of steam post mission.
The second he found out his latest mission was going to be in your neck of the woods he couldn’t wait. It took all of his concentration to stay focused on the mission at hand and not on finally getting his dick wet later.
He was chasing down the bogey when your voice came through his comms. “Yo Torres, want an assist?”
He shook his head as he smiled to himself. Although it had been his mission, being in your city meant it was only a matter of time before you got involved. “I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.” he said as he looked to his right and you pulled alongside him. Where he needed a whole suit and fancy gear to fly, you had cosmic powers that literally blasted you through the air like a rocket.
“What can I say? I was busy,” you threw back.
“Doing what?” he asked.
“Cancelling my plans for the evening,” you smiled at him with a knowing wink.
“Falcon, we’ve got two more missiles incoming,” a controlled male voice cut through the comm link to you both.
“I’ll get these two,” you said, indicating to the ones you were both currently chasing, “you get the other two.”
“Alright.” he agreed before he began to bank left and turn back toward the direction of the other two missiles.
Chasing down missiles was routine for you at this point. You angled your head forward, your arms pushing back to your sides as you put on another burst of speed to catch up to the missile on the right, coming up beneath it. You quickly began to guide it towards the direction of its companion and the two collided in mid air in a firey blast.
“How you doing back there feathers?” You asked through the comms, coming to a stop and hovering mid air as you sought out the flash of green against the blue sky that would indicate where he was.
“They’re splitting off.” he grunted down the comms as he tried to fight with one of the missiles, willing it to change course and drop down into the sea.
“I’m on it.” you said, spotting the stray missile in the distance. You raced for it but realised you weren’t going to make it in time. Instead you stopped and put all your effort into pushing a photon blast towards it, hoping to detonate it before it got too close to the ground. Your body jerked backwards with the force and you waited with baited breath for it to make contact.
3…2…1! Your arm came up to shield your face as you were knocked backwards by the blast but you quickly caught yourself again.
“Is that all of them?” you asked?
There was a pause before the other male voice from before came through the comms to tell you both that Cap had got things back under control on the ground and you could both stand down.
“Just another day at the office, huh?” you said to Joaquin as he came up alongside you again.
“Yeah, just another day at the office.” he agreed.
“At least I don’t have to do the paperwork on this one.” you taunted before you shot him a small salute and began to divert your course and head back home.
It was nearly 9pm by the time he arrived. You’d been able to eat, tidy up, shower and even catch a couple episodes of the latest tv show you were binging. The second you opened the door to your appartment and let him in, he was on you.
“Is it weird if I say I missed you,” he panted between kisses and you pulled him inside and he kicked the door closed behind him.
“You mean your dick missed me,” you joked as you ripped the open checked button down off of his shoulders and he quickly slipped his arms out of it, not wanting to waste any time.
“Yeah, that too,” he said as his mouth tried to keep up with you as you guided him down the hallway to the open kitchen living room. “Dios mio eres hemosa,” he muttered to himself as you reached to pull your T-shirt up over your head and threw it across the room.
“Look you want to keep talking or do you want to fuck me? Your call Torres.” you panted as you tried to keep things moving along.
He quickly lifted his white T-shirt off over his head and exposed his golden skin to you.
“Someone’s been working out,” you commented as you took in his abs.
“Now who’s talking,” he grinned as he quickly closed the gap between you again, his hands threading into the hair behind your heads as he smashed his lips back into yours.
You couldn't help but moan against his lips as you felt him push his body up against you, his dick already growing hard and pushing against the zipper of his jeans. You both almost tripped over the arm of the sofa as you blindly tried to move back towards your bedroom, your hands completely lost as they frantically moved across one another’s skin.
“Uhg, fuck this,” he groaned, lifting you by the back of your thighs and slamming your back down into the couch cushions, his fingers scrambling to pull down your sweats and underwear before he dived headfirst between your legs.
You immediately began to whimper as his tongue carded through your folds, flicking hungrily at your sensitive clit. Your fingers tangled into his hair encouragingly as you tipped your head back, your eyes closing as you focused only on the feeling of his tongue against your cunt.
“Oh Joaquin, fuck,” you panted as you felt your muscles already beginning to tingle and grow tight.
He hummed happily into your pussy as he ate you out, your praise and whimpers like music to his ears as you squirmed beneath him. He was leaning over the arm of the chair to be at the right angle and he reached to undo the button and zipper on his jeans to alleviate some of the pressure from his erection, shifting his junk in his pants before he moved that hand back up towards your entrance. His slid two fingers inside you with ease, the tips of them curling in a come hither motion that had you practically writhing beneath him, desperate for release.
“Come on baby, just let go. Vamos bebe, dámelo.” he said huskily and you practically screamed as your climax took over you, soaking his fingers and tongue.
“Ahí está. Esa es mi chica.” His words always made you delirious. Always left you in a haze. And for just a little time you could imagine and play pretend. For those couple hours you were with him, you were his girl. And he was yours.
You quickly pushed him back off you so you could slam your mouth against his again, your tongue lapping your juices from his lips.
“God, you’re a fucking dream,” he praised and once again his words went straight to your head.
“Where do you want to do it? Here, or in the bedroom?” you asked him.
“How about here, then in the bedroom. Then in the shower, on the kitchen counter,” he listed off as your lips began to mark a hungry trail down the side of his neck, your hand moving to palm at his length as he fought to rid himself of his jeans.
“Sounds like a plan,” you panted, wanting to make the most of the limited time you had together, “How long do we have?”
“My flight leaves at 8am.” he said.
“Then, I guess we best get moving then,” you encouraged him.
“You still on the-“
“Yep,” you quickly responded, desperate to finally feel him inside you again after months of just playing with yourself and your magic wand.
“And you haven’t?”
“Nope.” You replied just as quickly. He always asked the same questions just to check in on the off chance anything had changed, but there was no one else other than Joaquin. That’s why you had started sleeping with him in the first place. No strings. No complications. Just really good sex. “What about you? Have you?”
“No.” he quickly said, but there was a flash of something in his eyes that said there was more to that answer than he really wanted you to know. “Okay, enough talking,” he panted as he grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to the end of the sofa, tilting you up at just the right angle and lining himself up, before teasing his way inside. You both let out a deep moan as he began to fill you up, your mouth hanging open as his brow furrowed in concentration, not wanting to blow his load before he had even begun.
You were always so wet for him. So warm and welcoming. Fucking you felt like coming home and that scared Joaquin. No strings, that was what you both agreed, but he knew he was failing. Knew every time he saw you, every time you hooked up, he grew a little more attached to you. He’d wake the next morning and struggle to leave. He’d lay awake after a long day back home, just wondering what you were doing. If you thought of him in the same way. Sometimes he even thought about just buying a plane ticket and showing up on your door. Not even to have sex, but just watch tv and cuddle up on your sofa. To hear you laugh. To be with you when you wanted to cry.
“Oh shit,” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, the realisation hitting him as his eyes locked onto yours, He was completely and utterly in love with you and he knew all it would take would be one more orgasm together and he would be completely and utterly yours.
You saw how the look on his face changed. You knew exactly what it meant too. “Say it,” you said to him as his eyes moved from your face to where your two bodies met, willing himself to make it less personal again. If he just focussed on that angle he could pretend he was watching porn. Detach himself from the act just long enough to get through this.
“Say it,” you demanded, but he shook his head. “Joaquin!” you said firmly, forcing him to look into your eyes again. “Say it,” you said again more softly and that’s when he saw it. The same feeling reflected in your eyes.
“I love you,” he said.
“Fuck,” you squeaked as he hit that sensitive spot inside you just right, “I love you too,” you panted, finally allowing yourself to admit to yourself and him what you’d known for a while now. “I love you too.” You breathed.
He practically growled in hunger at your words, his hips picking up pace as he became desperate to make you cum again. His girl. His only one. His thumb reached to rub circles over your clit. He knew he couldn’t last much longer, especially with the way you were looking at him and he needed you to finish with him. “Vamos baby,” he began to encourage his words husky, “necesito que te corras para mí.”
Your body began to tense under his ministration, your muscles bearing down in anticipation. You could see the concentration on his face, the effort to not blow his load just yet. Not before he had made you cum one more time this round.
You moved your fingers down to circle your clit, replacing his own fingers to speed the process along just that little bit quicker. “That’s it baby, so beautiful. That’s my girl,” he encouraged until you were able to let go.
Your orgasm hit you like a truck, your fingers reaching to grip tightly onto his biceps and ground you as he continued to pump himself into your sensitive cunt once, twice, three times more until he stilled, his chest heaving as his body fell forward. His arms just about caught him, propping himself up before he collapsed on you completely as he filled you up.
You sighed as you breathed heavily and tried to regulate yourself. “Uhhhgg, so much for no strings attached.” you finally said when you didn’t feel like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest anymore.
“Yeah,” he chuckled and agreed, his head turning so he could look you in the eyes once again. “So much for no strings attached.” he repeated, before you both began to laugh.
I love tumblr because humanity could find out that world will end in 2 days and like 4 seconds later someone will post about it in the destiel meme format.
I’m not asking marvel I’m telling marvel, I better get Frank Castle and Karen Page to finally get together in DD:BA!! they teased us so many god damn times with them and I have never left the restaurant, so I’m demanding them to be endgame!!!!
Has anyone just stopped and thought about the three husbands of the Featherington ladies?
Not as individuals, but as a whole.
We see Mr. Finch and Mr. Dankworth spending a lot of time together, because their wives spend a lot of time together. Both of those men are...a bit peculiar in their own ways, but both are really different than most of the men in the ton.
Now, imagine adding Colin to that club.
Instead of talking about conquests in a gentleman's club over drinks, Colin's "bro nights" are probably going to be sitting around a parlor table, talking with his brothers-in-law about how awesome their wives are over cheese.
