summary: best friends turned unstoppable partners finally cross the lineâand in the quiet morning after, they realize nothing between them is broken⊠only deeper, softer, and long overdue.
The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the quiet. Not the usual base quietâmetal bunks creaking, distant chatter bleeding through thin walls, the low, constant hum of aircraft somewhere beyond the horizonâbut something softer, something closer. It was the kind of quiet that didnât feel empty. The kind that felt ⊠full. Then she noticed the warmth.
Joaquin. His arm was draped over her waist like it had always belonged there, solid and steady, his hand resting just beneath her ribs, fingers curled loosely like even in sleep he refused to let go. His chest rose and fell slowly against her back, breath warm against her shoulder.For a long moment, she didnât move, didnât breathe. Because if she stayed still enough, maybe she could sit in this moment just a little longer before realityâbefore everythingâshifted.
Her fingers hovered over his arm, tracing lightly along the familiar lines of muscle and old scars. She knew every one of them: knew where they came from; knew which ones he joked about and which ones he never mentioned. Recalling years of training, deployments, close calls, years of him. Her mind drifted backward like it always did when it came to Joaquin...
In primary school, heâd been the loud kid. The fearless one. The one who didnât think twice about stepping between her and anyone who even looked like they might give her a hard time. Sheâd been quieter then, smaller but not weak. She was never weak, just ⊠selective; and heâd figured that out before anyone else did.
âSay something,â heâd told her once, after sheâd calmly outsmarted a kid twice her size into backing off without lifting a finger.
âI did,â sheâd said simply with a shrug.
Heâd grinned like sheâd just handed him the answer to a question heâd been asking his whole life. From then on, theyâd been inseparable. By the time they were teenagers, the lines had already started to blur. Sleepovers that turned into sharing beds without a second thought. Borrowed hoodies that never quite made it back to their original owner. Late-night conversations that dipped into something softer, something almost dangerousâbefore one of them inevitably cracked a joke and pulled them back. They never talked about it, but they didnât have to.
And then came the Air Force.Same enlistment day. Same bus. Same knowing look when reality hit and neither of them backed out. Training had been where it really solidified in a way theyâd never recover from. Training is where they stopped being just best friends and became something else entirely: a unit. They moved together like they shared a brainâno, like they shared instinct. They covered each other without thinking. They anticipated movements before they happened and adjusted mid-fight without a word.
Their instructors noticed. Their squadmates definitely noticed. It was eerie, the way they worked. Efficient. Precise. Lethal when they needed to be. There were jokes, of course.
âJust kiss already.â
âAre we interrupting something?â
âHow much you wanna bet theyâre together before deployment?â
They always laughed it off because it was easier than answering the question neither of them wanted to risk. Then deployment came ⊠and nothing changed.Or maybe everything didâbut so gradually neither of them could pinpoint when. They still shared space. They still gravitated toward each other in every room, every mission, every quiet moment in between. They still chose each other every time. Nothing ever changed.Â
Until last night.
Her breath caught slightly at the memory, heat rising to her cheeks even now. It hadnât been rushed; it hadnât been messy or uncertain. It had been inevitable, like stepping into something theyâd been orbiting for years. And nowânow she was here in his arms and it was somehow the most natural thing in the world. Behind her, Joaquin stirred. His grip tightened instinctively, pulling her closer like his body had already decided she wasnât going anywhere.
âMm⊠donât move,â he mumbled, voice rough with sleep, face pressing into her shoulder.
A small smile tugged at her lips. There he was: his usual self.
âDidnât realize I needed permission,â she murmured.
âYeah, well,â he muttered, barely awake, âyou do.â
She huffed a quiet laugh. God, nothing about him had changed. But when she shifted slightly to turn toward him, everything had. His eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting, searchingâand then landing on her like they always did. Like they always would. For a moment, neither of them spoke; they simply looked. And in that look was everything: years of history, trust, almosts and almost-didnâts, the weight of last night settling between them without breaking anything.
Joaquin exhaled softly, something easing in his expression.Â
âHey,â he said.
âHey,â she whispered. Her voice was quieter than usual, but steady. Because this was still him. Still them.
âYou okay?â he asked after a beat, studying her face like he was looking for cracks.
She raised an eyebrow, a hint of her usual spark slipping through.
âYou asking as my best friend orââ she gestured faintly between them, ââthis new development?â
His mouth twitched and he slyly replied, âBoth.â
She softened.
âIâm okay,â she said honestly. âAre you?â
Joaquin let out a breath, nodding once.
âYeah. I justââ He shook his head slightly, a small laugh escaping. âDidnât wanna wake up and find out I imagined it.â
Her lips curved. âYou didnât.â
âGood,â he said quickly, like he needed that confirmed.
Silence settled again, but it wasnât awkward. It never was with them. Instead, it was just full, comfortable, and real. Joaquinâs expression shifted then, something more serious threading through his features.
âHey,â he murmured again, causing her to still slightly at the tone.
âBefore you goâŠâ he started, then hesitated.
That alone made her chest tighten. Joaquin didnât hesitate; not like this. He pushed himself up onto one elbow, looking down at her like this matteredâlike she mattered in a way that made him a little unsteady.
âPlease call me,â he said slowly. âOr text. Or send a damn letter via pigeon, justâŠâ His jaw tightened slightly. âDonât give up on us.â
And there it was: not regret, not fear of what theyâd done. Rather it was the fear of losing her. Joaquinâs voice sounded like thisâfinally crossing that lineâmight somehow break the one thing in his life that had never failed him. Her heart ached at that because if there was one thing she was sure of more than anything else it was them. She reached up, her hand resting against his cheek, thumb brushing lightly along his jaw.
âYouâre preaching to the choir,â she said softly, a small, reassuring smile forming. âIâll text you before I get home.â
He searched her face for a second longer, like he needed to be absolutely sure.
âYeah?â he asked quietly, seeking confirmation.
âYeah,â she nodded. Then, because she couldnât help herself, added, âMight even call if you behave.â
Relief broke across his face in the form of a grin.
âWow,â Joaquin snorted. âIâm honored.â
âDonât be.â
âToo late.â
She rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. They lingered there, close enough to feel each otherâs breath, the space between them charged with something newâbut built on something old and unshakable.
âStill my best friend?â he asked after a moment, softer now.
Her expression melted and she leaned in just slightly, their foreheads brushing.
âAlways,â she assured. Then, quieter, âThat was never up for negotiation.â
Something in him settled completely at that.
âGood,â he murmured.
âAnd you?â she asked, eyes flicking across his face.
Joaquin didnât hesitate this time: âAlways.â
The word sat between them like a promise. Then he leaned in slowly, careful, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. She didnât. Their lips met soft and certain, like everything else between themâlike instinct, like muscle memory, like something that had always been theirs even before they named it. When they pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, a quiet laugh escaping him.
âTook us long enough,â he said.
She giggled lightly. âSpeak for yourself. I was waiting on you.â
âMe?â Joaquin gasped, his eyes widened.
âYeah, you!â
âI was being respectful!â
âYou were being oblivious.â
âUnbelievable!â he huffed
She grinned. âAdmit it.â
âNever.â
They fell into easy laughter, the sound familiar and grounding. It was proof that whatever this was, it hadnât taken anything from them. If anything, it had only added to it. Outside, the world would keep moving. Missions, responsibilities, expectations were waiting for them, but hereâin this quiet, in this momentâthey were still the same two people who had found each other years ago and never let go. Only now, they didnât have to pretend there wasnât something more.
oops! four months of radio silence; sorry yâall.
Iâm popping in to let everyone know Iâm alive and well (all things considered with the state of the world). I didnât mean to take this hiatus at all, but the break was much needed.
Iâm so happy to see all of the likes, comments, etc. on my stories stayed strong while I was on hiatus. It means so much to me that so many of you read my storiesâlet alone enjoy my fics. Thank you for the warm welcome with the flood of notifications when I logged in. đ
Iâm not sure if Iâm planning to stay logged in or write more fics soon, but perhaps I will. I hope all of my mutuals and followers are well. To all of those about to be hit with this winter storm like me, please stay safe xoxo
I thought about this earlier and I wanted to share for a request đ€
Joel Miller and reader have very draining and difficult jobs so at the end of the day, they come home and take care of each other (doesnât havenât to be sexual). Massages, cooking dinner, cuddling etc.
Sorry this took so long, Sid!! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
The door shuts with a weight that rattles the frame, and the sound tells you everything before you even turn around. Heâs exhausted. You hear the thud of boots on the floor, the scrape of keys against the ceramic bowl, the sigh that drags through his chest.
âSmells good,â he murmurs, voice low and rough.
âDonât get too excited, baby,â you answer softly, glancing over your shoulder from the stove. âItâs just spaghetti.â
âAfter today?â His steps are heavy as he moves closer. âYou could burn toast and Iâd still thank you for it.â
His lips brush your temple before he reaches for the plates. You stir the sauce while he sets the table, your hips brushing in that small, familiar way that feels more like a language than an accident. Dinner is quick, simple, but the act of eating together steadies you both.
Later, when the dishes are done and the TV hums low in the background, he lets you tug him onto the couch. You settle behind him, pushing at the solid weight of his shoulders.
âYouâre carrying half the city on your back,â you murmur, kneading the tight knots until he groans and lets his head drop forward.
âNot the whole city,â he corrects quietly. âJust makinâ sure mineâs okay.â
The words catch you off guard. You pause, then press your cheek to his back, listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing. The world can be relentless, but here, in this small space youâve carved out together, you both allow yourselves to stop.
The cabin door groans shut, and the sound is the same kind of heavy, but now for different reasons. There are no keys, no bowlâjust the scrape of a rifle against the floor as he sets it down.
The fire flickers weakly, its smoke curling up into the cracked chimney. Youâre already close to it, trying to draw heat into your bones. He kneels in front of you, silent, pulling your boots off one by one. They land softly near the fire, and then a blanket wraps over your shoulders.
âEat first,â you insist, pushing the dented tin of beans toward him.
His eyes flick to yours. Joel hesitates for a moment as he studies you, but he finally mutters, âWeâll split it.â
So you do, shoulder to shoulder, trading bites in silence while the fire pops and hisses. When itâs gone, you curl into him under the blanket. His arm wraps tight around you, hand moving in slow circles down your arm.
âYouâre shaking,â he murmurs against your hair.
âYouâre not,â you counter.
âIâm workinâ on it,â he admits, a ghost of something like humor in his voice. His fingers thread through your hair, steady and soothing.
Your hand traces lazy patterns along his ribs, grounding yourself in the heat of him. âRemember when the worst thing we complained about was bad takeout?â
He huffs softly. âI remember you makinâ me eat that overcooked pasta.â
âThat was one time.â
âMmm ... two.â
You laugh into his shirt, muffled but real. The sound warms the space more than the fire does. Out here, thereâs no house, no couch, no comfort beyond what you can build out of scraps. But thisâhis hand in your hair, your head against his chest, the quiet rhythm of being alive togetherâis still yours.
The world ended, but some things didnât change. The world demanded everything of them. And yet, at the end of each day, you still found a way to give each other enough.
hiii do u think joaquin would get turned on when ure like ranting and mad HHAHHHHAHA likeee literally has u on his lap and looking up at u and u realize halfway ure feeling something poking uHM âand thenâ this isnt turning you on is it?â đđđ
u could write this as a scene if u want to! đ«¶
omg I looooove this request! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! đ
Hot, Bothered, and Tactical
content warnings: mdni - soft smut with heart; sexual tension turned comedy/fluff; dry humping; making out; praise kink / partner worship vibes; light dom/sub undertones (consensual); post-mission frustration; comfort & emotional reassurance; established relationship
You were halfway through your rant, pacing across the kitchen tiles in a threadbare t-shirt and a pair of his old gym shorts, absolutely fuming. Your hair was still damp from the shower you'd taken to cool off, but it hadnât worked. Not even a little.
âI specifically told them the intel was garbage,â you snapped, waving a spoon you hadn't realized you'd grabbed from the dish rack. âBut did anyone listen to me? No. Because apparently, being the only one with a functioning brain disqualifies you from making decisions!â
Across the room, Joaquin was slouched in one of the kitchen chairs, his arms folded behind his head, lips twitching, just watching you with that same easy smirk he always wore when he was enjoying himself way too much. You paused just long enough to glare at him.
âDonât look at me like that!â you hissed.
âLike what?â he asked, entirely unbothered, eyes glinting. âIâm listening.â
âYouâre smiling!â you accused, pointing the spoon at him. âThis is serious, Joaquin. We couldâve walked right into a trap! Lee pulled some real cowboy shââ
âLanguage,â he teased, grin growing.
You groaned, stomping past him again, too full of adrenaline to sit still.
âAnd then! Then! After everything went sidewaysâguess who they asked to clean it up? Me! Me, Quino! The assholes asked me! The one they ignored in the first place!â
He hummed in mock sympathy, eyes trailing you like you were a tennis match and he was having the time of his life.
âHonestly,â you continued, breathless, âI should just let them eat it next time. See how they like it whenâJoaquin?â
You stopped short because, mid-pace, heâd reached out and caught your wrist. He tugged gently.
âWhat?â you asked, voice low and out of breath.
âCome here,â he said with a small smile.
âIâm not doneââ
âYouâre sexy when youâre mad.â
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out as he guided you between his legs and pulled you down into his lap like you weighed nothing. Your spoon clattered to the floor. He leaned back, looking up at you like you were the most mesmerizing thing in the world. A little dreamy. A little reverent. A little too quiet.
âKeep going,â he said, voice low and smooth as warm honey. âIâm all ears.â
âYouâre insane,â you muttered, flustered now, cheeks hot. âYou are literally turned on right now, arenât you?â
He didnât answer. Just gave a little shrug and tilted his head, as if to say what can I say? â and thatâs when you felt it. Your whole face went red.
âOh my god,â you said slowly. âThis is turning you on?â
Joaquinâs grin stretched even wider.Â
âA little,â he admitted, completely shameless.
âYouâve got a hard-on because I was yelling about Lee and tactical incompetence?â
âMore like because you were waving that spoon around like a dagger and looking like you were about to set the world on fire,â he said, voice thick with amusement and something else entirely. âIâm not made of stone.â
You stared at him in awe. He gave your hips a squeeze and said, very gently, âPlease keep going.â
You narrowed your eyes and mumbled, âYou want me to keep yelling?â
âAbsolutely, mi amor.â
âYouâre a menace, Quino.â
âAnd youâre so hot when youâre furious.â
There was a pause as you contemplated. Something about the way he looked up at youâsmirking but reverent, cocky but needingâflipped a switch. The adrenaline hadnât gone anywhere; it just⊠changed direction.
You gave him a lookâequal parts exasperated and flatteredâbut your weight shifted slightly in his lap, and the unmistakable shape of him pressed hard between your thighs made you falter. Your breath hitched. His fingers gripped a little tighter.Â
â... can I still be mad while I make out with you?â
âDefinitely encouraged,â he said, before pulling you down into a kiss that absolutely made you forget why you were angry in the first place.
Well, almost. Youâd find that spoon later stuck under the fridge and realize you'd never even finished your rant, but you had gotten something better.
You leaned in, lips barely brushing his when you quietly asked, âYou really wanna do this here? In the kitchen?â
Joaquin pulled you down until your chests were flush. His hand was cradling the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair.
âI want youââhe said in between kisses on your neckââwherever youâre gonna take out that righteous fury on me.â
You kissed him hard thenâfast and a little messy, all teeth and heat, fingers tangling in the collar of his shirt. His hands roamed, slipping beneath your t-shirt and skimming the bare skin of your back. You rolled your hips on instinct and he groaned into your mouth, the sound rough and desperate.
âFuck,â he murmured. âKeep doing that.â
You did. Through fervent kisses, you rolled your hips slowly, deliberately, letting the friction build. The fabric between you was a frustrating barrier, but the tension was delicious. You broke the kiss just long enough to yank your shirt over your head and toss it somewhere on the floor. Joaquin's eyes dragged down your body like he was memorizing every inch.
âYouâre unreal,â he said, breathless. âSwear to God.â
You grinned and leaned in to whisper, âStill mad, you know.â
âOh, Iâm counting on it.â
You rocked your hips againâharder this timeâand his head tipped back with a groan. He looked up at you like you were a storm he wanted to be swept away in.
âIâm not gonna last long if you keep doing that.â
You leaned down, lips brushing his ear. âThen shut up and take me to bed.â
Joaquin didnât need to be told twice. He picked you up swiftly and locked you in close to him with another quick kiss. His hands squeezed your ass, and you giggled as he jogged to the bedroom.
A few hours later the bedroom was dim, lit only by the golden spill of light from the hallway. Sheets tangled around your legs, the air heavy with warmth and the kind of slow, buzzing satisfaction that only came after being thoroughly and lovingly wrecked.
Joaquin lay beside you, half on his side, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare shoulder. His hair was a mess. His chest was still rising and falling a little fast. But his smile? That soft, ruined thing? It was all yours. You let out a long sigh and flopped your hand across his chest, eyes closed.
âJust for the record,â you mumbled, âIâm still mad at Lee.â
Joaquin laughed, low and husky.Â
âYou tore my soul out and rode it into the void, and youâre still thinking about Lee?â
You cracked one eye open. âTactical rage doesnât just go away because I got laid.â
âLaid?â he echoed, mock-offended. âBabe, seriously? Thatâthat was a transcendental experience.â
âGod, shut up,â you snorted, turning to bury your face into his chest.Â
He kissed the crown of your head, his hand finding yours beneath the sheets.
âSeriously, though,â Joaquin murmured, âI love how fired up you get. Youâve got a look like youâre ready to fight God and win.â
You went quiet for a beat, fingers curling with his.
âSometimes I donât think they really listen to me,â you admitted finally, voice smaller now. âI can prove them wrong a hundred times ⊠and no matter what ... they still hesitate.â
âI know,â he mumbled, soft and serious now, âbut I donât. Not once. Not ever.â
You looked up at him, and he met your gaze with nothing but truth.
âYouâre not just someone I believe in,â Joaquin said, âyouâre the standard I measure everyone else against. Youâre it.â
You didnât answer right away, didnât need to. You just pulled him closer and let your forehead rest against his. And when he whispered, âStill mad?â with a teasing smile, you hummed.
âA little,â you said, âbut itâs manageable.â
âGuess Iâll have to keep managing it,â he said, voice dipping low again.
You smirked, shifting closer. âBetter keep the kitchen chair ready.â
âShit,â he laughed, tightening his arms around you. âI knew I shouldâve reinforced it.â
You stayed like that for a whileâlimbs tangled, laughter fading into lazy kisses and soft murmurs. Eventually, sleep pulled you both under, wrapped in heat and something gentler, something unspoken but understood.
By the time morning crept in, the chaos of the night had stilled. The kitchen was quietâsunlight slanting in across the counters, soft music playing low from someoneâs forgotten playlist. You padded in barefoot, hair a little wild, one of Joaquinâs shirts hanging off your shoulder. The spoon from last night was under the fridge, just like youâd suspected.
You knelt down to grab it, only for a pair of warm arms to slide around your waist.
âMorning, rage demon,â Joaquin murmured against your neck, stubble scratching gently.
You rolled your eyes, straightened, and turned in his arms.
âYou really wanna start with that before coffee?â you asked, smiling when you kissed him softly.
âJust trying to gauge your moodâŠâ He just grinned at you, unapologetic. âYou know ⊠for tactical purposes.â
You raised an eyebrow. âTactical, huh?â
âAbsolutely. Gotta know if I need protective gear or the chair again.â
That made you laughâreally laughâand the sound echoed warmly in the small space between you. He looked at you like he was memorizing it, just like last night. Just like always.
âAss,â you muttered fondly, kissing his jaw.
âBoss,â he corrected, hands sliding down to your hips. âBattle goddess ⊠authority I fear and adore.â
âYouâre such a dumbass,â you said, but you didnât pull away. You rested your forehead to his chest, breathing him in. He made you feel calm, steady, and safe.
The mission, the frustration, the doubtâyou knew it wasnât overâbut in this moment, tangled up in his arms and that smile that said you are everything, it felt manageable.
He nuzzled your hair and whispered, âStill mad?â
You sighed, letting it all out with one long breath, and then said softly: âOnly at everyone who isnât you.â
Joaquin chuckled, kissed your temple, and murmured, âGood. Let them try you again. Iâll be right here with the fire extinguisher. And maybe a helmet.â
âIdiot,â you laughed. You shook your head, grinning.
âYours,â he said, holding you tighter.
And in the quiet that followed, you believed itâdeep in your bones. Joaquin wasnât just someone to lean on. He was someone who saw you, even when the rest of the world refused to look. And that? That was enough to face anything. Even Lee.
â brushing your thumb over their knuckles while you're both not saying a word, just existing quietly in the same space like it's the most sacred thing.
â them absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve because they want to touch you but arenât ready to say it yet.
â âcan i kiss you?â whispered like theyâre afraid the moment might shatter if they speak too loud.
â their voice cracking just a little when they say your name for the first time in a long time.
â them resting their forehead against yours and just⊠staying there. No words. No movement. Just breath. Just nearness.
â sharing headphones and they keep looking at you during the best part of the song. you donât even know what the song means to them but suddenly it means everything to you.
â "stay the night?"Â said so soft it mightâve been a wish.
â dragging their fingers gently down your back like theyâre trying to memorize the map of your spine.
â tracing your features with their fingertip like you're a sculpture in a museum and they were not supposed to touch you, but god, they canât help it.
â âdonât leave yet.â not because youâre going somewhere. but because being with you is the safest theyâve felt all day.
â their voice in the dark. low. quiet. like the night is just for you two.
â "this reminded me of you" and itâs just a stupid rock or a weird leaf but you hold onto it like it's a diamond because it's you to them.
â laying in bed, face smushed into the pillow, sleep-drunk and murmuring, âyou make me feel like iâm home.â
â them looking at you like you're not just a person, but their favorite story. one theyâve been rereading since forever and still keep finding new parts to fall in love with.
sexy september scribbles' prompt two: "don't hide your face"
note: this is not my best work, but this is for the other two joaquin torres fans out there
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open wide. Every flick, stroke, and swipe of his tongue has you keening for more. The sounds falling from your lips are music to his ears, encouraging him to continue.
Joaquin only pauses when your fingers leave his curls, and his eyes flick open to gaze up at you. And when he finds you, arm slung over your face and fist clenched beside your head, he smirks.
"Oh, no," he coos, thumb digging harder into your thigh to grab your attention again. "Don't hide that pretty face."
A broken whimper escapes your throat, "Quino â"
"No, mi amor," he teases, thumb stroking your skin now. He nips at the crease of your thigh once before soothing it with a gentle kiss. "I want to see how you fall apart for me," he whispers.
And you don't get another chance to reply before he dives back in. He holds your gaze, even as his tongue, thick and slow, laps at your clit. He could come then and there, watching your hooded eyes flutter against your attempt to keep them open with only the taste of you on his lips.
Instead, he murmurs a soft, "So good for me, cariño." And when you break away from his gaze â his name, high and breathless, on your lips â he doesn't pull away again. He holds you through it, tongue greedy and hands firm as you shiver.
Johnny in modern day New York after they land in the thunderbolts post credits scene and he meets a waitress at a restaurant and keeps going back and she helps him adjust to a different world. Think the abandoned Steve and the waitress storyline in the first avengers movie
Across the Multiverse
Johnny Storm x fem!reader
Wordcount: ~3.5k
Authors Note: woooahhh there could be a real angsty part two to this but I had a lot of fun writing this so thank you(:
Masterlist PART2! PART3!
The door opened, and the bell above it rang lightly. The place had old, cracked leather booths, a long counter, a jukebox in the corner that probably didnât even work, and people who looked like they came here every day at the same time just for the company. Thatâs why Johnny liked it the first time he came. Everyone called it the âold-fashioned dinerâ on Mott Street, but to him, it was a glimpse of home.
That was what drew him in at first. He was looking for a break from the team and the chaos, but what kept him coming back was the waitress who was always there, every Sunday at 3:00 when he showed up.
It had been three weeks since the Fantastic Four made the journey from Earth-828 to Earth-616. Luckily, the New Avengersâor the Thunderbolts, who still couldnât agree on a nameâhad let the Fantastic Four stay with them while they devised a plan to find Franklin within the multiverse.
The world had been gray since Franklin was taken from the Baxter Building living room by the masked man. Sue had been beating herself up non-stop. All Reed could do was try to find a solutionâhence how they ended up here, in this strange and dirtier version of their city. Neither of them have even slept since Franklin was taken, and Johnny didnât blame them. Ben was doing his best to keep everyone together. Johnny could barely find it in himself to crack a joke, or lighten the mood, everything felt heavy.
That first Sunday here, Bucky saw the look of exhaustion in Johnnyâs eyes amidst everyoneâs bickering and recommended a diner downtown.
âItâs pretty shitty, but the people are kind and itâs quiet, the quietest Iâve been able to find in this decade,â he had saidâand he was right.
Now, it was Johnnyâs third Sunday in a row there, promptly at 3:00. Not because of the quiet or the shitty coffee, but because of you.
âHi Johnny, back again?â you smiled sweetly and slid into the booth across from him.
The reason he came at that time repeatedly was because he learned on his first Sunday there that you got off work at 3:00, and you were more than willing to sit across from him and chat while he sipped on his coffee. You made him feel normal, like his world wasnât constantly collapsing in on itself. You quieted the noise and the voices. With one look into your eyes and that beautiful, genuine smile, the tension in his shoulders would release.
âI canât stay long. Iâve got some errands to run uptown before meeting some friends for dinner,â you said. He nodded, trying not to show his disappointment.
âI donât know what youâre up to today, but Iâd hate to miss our weekly get-together,â you joked. âWanna tag along? I know you said youâre new to the city, and Iâd be lying if I said I wasnât a little bummed I canât stick around todayâŠâ you asked shyly.
Johnnyâs eyes shot up to yours, trying not to look too eager. He nodded. âIâd love that.â
You both smiled.
âAlright, well letâs stop wasting timeâand you can stop pretending to enjoy that coffee,â you teased, sliding out of the booth. He smiled, following you blindly.
Down the subway stairs you went. You tapped your phone to enter the station. Johnny looked perplexed.
âItâs just tap-to-pay, Johnny,â you said casually, but he was still staring at the little box you pressed your phone against.
You reached over the turnstile and tapped your phone again for him. He pushed through and stood beside you to wait for the next 6 train uptown, trying not to show how hard he was thinking about the tap thing you just did with your phone.
âWhere did you say youâre from again?â you asked, trying to figure him out.
âOh, you know... the Midwest,â he said unconvincinglyâbut it was good enough for you to drop it.
You spent the afternoon getting groceries, picking out flowers, and finding a birthday gift for your friend. As the sun began to set, you walked up to your apartment, sad that the day with Johnny was coming to an end.
âThis is me,â you said, taking the bags Johnny had been carrying for you. âThanks for doing all this with me today. It was really nice to have company. Iâm sure it wasnât the most exciting day...â you added shyly, almost embarrassed.
âI really liked today. I havenât laughed like that in⊠well, since I got here. I know our get-togethers are usually reserved for Sunday afternoons, butâif youâll let meâIâd love to take you out on a real date, somewhere with less shitty foodâ he said, avoiding your gaze and rubbing the back of his neck.
You immediately blushed. âGive me your phone. Let me give you my number,â you said, placing your bag on the stoop and holding out your hand.
He pulled out the iPhone Bucky had given him. He barely knew how to do anything besides call, but he was about to learnâfor you.
You typed in your name and number and handed the phone back. His fingers brushed over yours, and goosebumps covered your arms. You still felt the blush from his question before.
âIâll text you,â he said with a boyish grin before turning back toward the tower.
âYou better!â you called out with a laugh. You could see his shoulders shake from the chuckle you caused.
You smiled all the way up to your apartment. At dinner, all you could think about was Johnnyâand the text you hoped would come soon.
Back at the tower, Johnny stepped into the elevator and pressed âPH.â It was nearly 8:30 by the time he returned, but he finally felt like himself.
âWhatâs got you so perky?â Ben asked as Johnny walked in, sucking Johnny out of the daze you had him in, he didnât even realize heâd been smiling.
Bucky shifted, a knowing smirk on his face. Sue and Reed looked up from their tablets, both with dark circles under their eyes.
âI have no idea what youâre talking about,â Johnny said playfully, plopping down next to Bucky and Bob, stretching his arms across the back of the couch and placing his feet on the table in front of them.
Ben shrugged. Sue and Reed returned to their screens. Bob buried his nose in his book. Bucky, though, kept watching Johnny, who was now staring at your contact on his phone in his lap.
âItâs that sweetheart from the diner, isnât it?â Bucky said knowingly.
Johnnyâs head shot up. âHow did you guess that, Barnes?â
Bucky chuckled. âSo Iâm right? I used to go to that diner a lot when I was trying to come to terms with... all this. Sheâs a sweet girl. When I recommended the diner, I thought you might make a friend out of her. I noticed the change in you after your first visit. You seemed lighter.â
Johnny stared in disbelief. Was he really that easy to read?
âWell, since the catâs out of the bag... can you help me text?â Johnny asked, holding out his phone.
âIn just three weeks, you managed to snag her digits?â Bucky shook his head.
âYeah, well, back home Iâm known for my pizzazz and charm. The ladies love me,â Johnny said with a grin. âAnd since weâre sticking around, why not see what the ladies here have to offer?â Reed cringed at his words, and left the room with Sue, making Johnny regret joking about sticking around.
âExcept it seems like youâre only interested in one dameâŠâ Bucky replied. He opened Johnnyâs messages. âStep one: this is how you text. Donât worry, itâs pretty easy. If Yelena can teach me, anyone can learn.â
Just then, Ben stomped over.
âI love where this is going. What the hell will Johnny be emailing to the cute waitress girl?â he said, feigning interest.
âFirst of all, Benjaminâitâs texting, not emailing. Second, what do you know about flirting?â Johnny shot back.
Before Ben could reply, the elevator dinged. Yelena and Alexei entered, bags of fast food in all of their hands.
âHello, my lovely teammates and extended teammates! I bring you cheeseburgers,â she said with a thick accent, plopping the bags onto the table, âhis are not so much to share, but I felt kind today,â she motioned towards Alexie who sat in a big recliner, beginning to work on the food he bought for himself.
Bucky quickly added, âWeâre helping Johnny text his new crush.â
Yelenaâs eyes widened. âOh yes. Hand me the phone, Fire Boy.â
Bucky smirked and tilted the phone toward her, and she took it happily. The men watched her type and heard a faint swoosh indicating the message had been sent.
âWhat did you do??â Johnny said, trying to figure out how to undo the message.
Before anyone could answer, a small ding echoed through the room. He froze.
âShe must like you. That was fast,â Yelena said with her mouth full.
He was pressing the phone with his pointer finger aggressively, when Yelena put her cheeseburger in her mouth, holding it, she motioned how to open and send the text messages to Johnny, who seemingly understood.
He unlocked the phone, now seeing two texts from you and Yelenaâs âheyâ ⊠he definitely didnât need her to come up with that one, but nonetheless he was grateful for the push.
Y: Hi⊠is this my Sunday, 3:00?
As Johnny was staring at his phone perplexed, another ding rang through the air, causing everyone to turn to him. âWooooowww another one Fire boy, you go!â Yelena said with her mouth full. He rolled his eyes and looked at your next text.
Y: Iâm taking the silence as a no... Who is this?
He chuckled and quickly responded.
J: You nailed it. Itâs Johnny. How did your dinner go?
He locked the phone, smilingâand then it dinged again.
Y: Would you believe me if I said Iâm still here ):
J: Well, I hope youâre having fun!
J: You free tomorrow?
Y: Lucky for you, Iâm off tomorrow night.
J: Great, Iâll be by at 7 to pick you up.
Y: Pick me up? You really know how to woo a girl. See you then!
So, it was setâhis first date.
Bucky helped him plan dinner at a small restaurant on the Upper East Side, not far from your apartment. As Johnny was getting ready to leave, he walked over to Bucky.
âBarnes⊠would you tell her?â Johnny asked.
Bucky looked up from his book, brow furrowed.
âWould you tell her the truth about this situationâif you were me?â
He nodded slowly, seemingly understanding what Johnny was really asking.
âListen, Johnny, I canât tell you what to do. Maybe just see how itâs going. The worldâs been crazy for a while, especially here in New York. It might not be as outlandish to her as you think. I mean, considering sheâs witnessed a Norse godâs alien invasion, killer robots, the Hulk, some super soldiersâI donât know, maybe sheâll choose to understand. Bu when you break the news to her, thatâs up to you, my friend.â
He stood up and patted Johnny on the shoulder. âGood luck out there, tiger.â
Johnny smiled and turned to make his way to your apartment.
When he turned the corner, he saw you sitting on the stoopâhair down and curly, lips painted red, wearing a black sweater, jeans, and heeled boots. You looked beautiful.
You stood as you saw him approaching in his maroon jacket and white t-shirt, effortlessly handsome.
âHi,â you said breathlessly, hopping down the steps to meet him on the sidewalk.
âYou look great,â he said, offering you his arm. âThis-a-way,â he said dramatically, gesturing down the street.
You slipped your hand onto his arm, and your first date began.
The restaurant Bucky helped him choose was a small, dimly lit Italian spot. Johnnyâs heart lit up when you said youâd always wanted to try it.
He learned that the diner wasnât your full-time job. You were an aspiring writer, working as a magazine editor during the week. You just worked at the diner because you liked itâand the extra cash didnât hurt in a city like this.
After you told him about your work, you asked about his.
Thatâs when he froze.
He vaguely mentioned being a scientist and coming to New York for researchânot a total lie. He dodged your deeper questions, carefully, without completely lying to you.
The night carried on, filled with laughter, shared stories, stolen glances.
At the end of the date, he walked you home.
âI really enjoyed tonight,â you said, letting go of his hand. âAnd thank you for walking me home. Thatâs definitely not something you get from Hinge these days.â
You laughed, and so did heâeven though he had no idea what kind of hinges you were referring to.
âI had fun tonight too,â he said, leaning in and meeting your lips with a sweet, slow kiss.
You smiled into it before pulling away to look into his deep blue eyes.
âGoodnight, Johnny.â
You turned and walked up the stoop. He watched you until you closed the door behind youâand you nearly squealed with excitement.
By the third date in two weeks, not including your Sunday at the diner, you were sitting across from each other at a quaint Mediterranean spot in the West Village.
You looked up at him and said, âJohnny, I feel like I barely know anything about where you come from. I do most of the talking. As much as I love that youâre an attentive listener⊠can you tell me more about you?â
You looked at him eagerly, eyes wide and curious.
He took a long sip of wine and stared at you blankly.
âI didnât mean to upset you,â you added quickly, worried at his reaction. âI just⊠want to get to know you too.â
âNo, no, noâum, thatâs not whatâs happening here.â He cleared his throat and fidgeted with his napkin. âListen⊠can I come clean about something?â
You looked nervous but nodded, encouraging him to continue.
He took a deep breath.
âSo⊠Iâm not actually from the Midwest like I said that day on the subway. Iâm definitely not from here, though, not this New York. I guess... in a sense, I am from New York. But not your version of it.â
You blinked.
âIâm living at the New Avengers Tower right now because, wellââ he glanced up at you to check your reaction. Your eyes were wide, brows furrowed. You reached out and took a long sip of wine.
âJohnny⊠what are you talking about?â
The waiter came by with the check. Johnny paid quickly. âLetâs go back to your place and talk, yeah? This isnât something I want to explain here.â
You looked at him hesitantly but nodded. You wanted to trust him. You hoped you were making the right decisionâand not ending up as the next Dateline special.
The commute back to your apartment felt longâmuch longer than the 30 minutes it actually was.
Once inside, you poured two glasses of wine and sat down beside him on the couch.
This wasnât the first time heâd been thereâyour second date had been a movie night on that very couch, which turned into a long, magnetic make-out session, and not a lot of movie watching.
Now, you curled your feet underneath you and looked at him expectantly.
And Johnny⊠basically word vomited for the next 30 minutes.
He told you everything: about his Earth, Galactus, Franklin, who he truly was back home, how they got here, what they were doing here, and how he didnât know when they were leaving.
By the time he finished, youâd finished your wineâand then some. Your mouth hung slightly open. You stared ahead, deep in thought, trying to process everything.
He watched you, anxious.
âI see your wheels turning,â he said gently. âWould you be willing to come on a little walk with me? Maybe I can show you?â
âHoly shit,â you finally said barely letting him finish his sentence. âAbout a month ago, I was at the diner when that alien spacecraft or whatever it was showed up near New York⊠I remember the panic. Everyone thought it was another invasionâbut then the New Avengers were on TV saying they were âmonitoring the situation,â and the news cycle just⊠moved on.â
Johnny's eyes softened. âYeah. That was us. Iâm assuming.â
You stared at him. âSo⊠youâre telling me you and your family came through a hole in the multiverse and youâve been crashing with the Avengers this whole time?â
âI can take you to the tower. Theyâll vouch for meââ
Before he could finish, you kissed him.
âI believe you,â you said softly. âIâm choosing to believe you. And to accept that youâre not a crazy personâthat youâre here for whatever weird twist of fate brought you here. Maybe⊠maybe we were just meant to meet.â
He smiled, relief flooding his features.
âAnd I donât think Iâm in any shape to meet your superpowered friends tonight, considering Iâve basically had a whole bottle of wine in the last thirty minutes,â you added with a laugh.
He laughed too, pulling you into his chest. You gladly leaned into him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.
âBut⊠if what youâre saying is true,â you said, pulling back just slightly, âwe need to teach you how to survive on this Earth. And I totally need to see this fire thing. And the rock guy?? What about the stretchy dude? The invisible one is your sister? And oh my god I am so sorry about your nephew⊠Okayâmaybe this is a lot to take in.â
You buried your face in his chest, embarrassed by your rambling.
âIn due time,â Johnny whispered. âIâll show you every piece of my lifeâif youâll let me.â
And he did. And you showed him yours.
You taught him how to actually use his phone. How to tap-to-pay. How to use the subway without looking like a time traveler from one of those movies.
You took him to the movies. Showed him how theaters worked here. You brought him to karaoke night in Koreatown with your friends (he was surprisingly good at Queen). You taught him how to use GPS. And every week, you showed him something new.
And Johnny⊠was falling for youâfast.
He could feel it every time you said his name and his stomach flipped. Every time he made you laugh and couldnât stop smiling. When you visited the tower and immediately hugged Sue and Reed, apologizing for everything theyâd gone through.
You were thoughtful. Empathetic. Beautiful. And so smart.
Johnny couldnât help but feel guilty for enjoying himself while everything was still so uncertain. It had been almost three monthsâand they were no closer to finding the man in the green cloak or Franklin, whom he missed dearly.
But at least⊠he had you.
When he wasnât in the lab trying to help, he was with youâbasking in your light. Through all the chaos, you were grounding him, and he was so thankful.
One night you lazily laid in his bed at the tower, luckily it was closer to your office than your apartment, when you interrupted the silence, âJohnny, whatâre we going to do when you have to leave?â The question had been picking at you for a while now, it had been months of going out together and you were blatantly falling just as fast as Johnny. He sighed at your question, knowing there had been some findings on their journey to find Franklin, but not enough to be worried about leaving you. He swallowed the guilt he felt for those thoughts, he missed Franklin more than he thought humanly possible, but he didnât want to leave you either.
âI donât know love,â he shifted and sat up, looking away from the television, âand I don't know whatâs going to happen, but I know no matter what I am so glad I met you,â he spoke barely above a whisper, âand I know that Iâm falling in love with you. So if this is too much if the impending end of this all is too much to carry, I want to give you an out.â
You sat up and looked at him, he was being dead serious.
âJohnny, I am falling in love with you too. And I donât care about any of that, I just want to enjoy the time I have with you.â
He kissed you then, deeply, and passionately, like you might turn to dust. âI want to just enjoy every moment we have left together,â he said sweetly. You nodded in agreement, âthen thatâs what we will do, Johnny.â
You and Joaquin Torres had known each other your entire lives. From kindergarten scraped knees to shared secrets in high school hallways, youâd grown up side by side. Lately, though, the line between best friends and something more had begun to blur. It was subtle at firstâa lingering glance, a touch that lingered too longâbut now, with the quiet tension in the air every time you were together, it had become impossible to ignore.
Tonight, the training room was empty except for the two of you. The hum of the lights above and the faint squeak of the mats underfoot were the only sounds as you tightened your gloves, squaring off across from him.
âYouâre reckless,â you teased, circling him. âSometimes I feel like you want to get hit.â
âBy you for sure,â Joaquin retorted.
His grin was infuriating, cocky but warm, the kind that made your heart skip a beat even after all these years.
âBy me?â you echoed, raising an eyebrow.
âMost certainly,â he said, taking a step closer, hands up but clearly daring you to do something about it.
You shook your head, laughing despite the tension, and launched a light jab toward his shoulder. He caught it, letting it brush against him with a teasing smirk.
âCareful,â he murmured, stepping in just enough to close the distance. âI might actually enjoy it.â
âEnjoy it?â you repeated, mock-scolding, but your chest was racing, and your eyes followed every movement he made.
âYes,â he said, tone low, eyes glinting with mischief and something softer. âEvery little thing I do around you is intentional.â
You feinted left, then swung right, but he read it instantly, catching your wrist and spinning you just enough that your glove tapped his chest. He grinned, eyes locking on yours.Â
âNot bad, babe,â he says softly, âyouâre improving.â
âIâve had a lifetime of practice,â you shot back, smirking. âAgainst you.â
He laughed, that rich, warm laugh that had always made your knees go weak. âYeah, and yet you still let me get under your skin.â
You paused mid-movement, heart fluttering.
âMaybe I like it,â you admitted quietly, almost to yourself.
âMaybe you do,â he said softly, closing the gap between you until you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His hands hovered near yours, not touching, just daring, teasing. âMaybe youâve wanted this for a while.â
You swallowed, words catching in your throat.
âDonâtâdonât make me hit you,â you said, half-warning, half-laughing, your gloves trembling slightly as your hands hovered near him.
âGo ahead,â he challenged lightheartedly. He tilted his head, grinning, eyes teasing, heart-melting all at once. âI wouldnât mind at all, cariño.â
The tension broke when you finally laughed, a sharp, breathless sound, and lightly tapped him on the chest with your glove. His hand went to your shoulder, steadying you, but he didnât pull back. In fact, he trailed his fingers up and down your arm while his free handled settled on your waist, his thumb sliding through the belt loop.
âYou really are something,â he said softly.
âSomething good or something bad?â you asked, leaning just a little closer.
âBoth,â he said, voice low, warm. âExactly the right amount of both.â
You stared at each other for a long moment, the room quiet except for your ragged breaths. And then, without thinking, you leaned in, letting your foreheads touch. His hands brushed up your arms, gentle, steady, grounding. One hand grazed up the back of your neck, settling in the hair at the nape of your neck. His other hand traced your jaw and his fingers danced across your lips.
âYou know,â he murmured, a teasing smile tugging at his lips, âwe could spar all night, or ⊠we could just ⊠do this.â
You laughed softly, heart racing, closing your eyes as you leaned into him.
âYeah,â you whispered. âI think I like this better.â
His lips brushed yours, tentative at first, then deepening as the rest of the world faded away. The missions, the training, the endless expectationsâall of it disappeared until it was just you two, breathless and laughing quietly against each other, wrapped in the comfort and heat of familiarity turned into something undeniably more.
When you finally pulled back, both of you smiling and catching your breath, he murmured, âBy the way, Iâve wanted this for months.â
You pressed a hand against his chest, grinning as you teased, âYeah, I guessed.â
âAnd now?â he asked, that familiar glint in his eye.
âNow,â you said, tilting your head to rest it on his shoulder, âI think Iâm exactly where I want to be.â
And Joaquin, of course, just grinned, wrapping his arm around you, holding you close, and whispered, âGood. Because Iâm not letting you go anytime soon.â
The training room was quiet now. The mats were still damp from earlier drills, and the hum of the overhead lights seemed softer somehow, almost private. Joaquin leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, that familiar half-smile tugging at his lips. You lingered a few feet away, glancing at him, feeling the weight of all the unspoken months between you.
âYou know,â he said, voice low, teasing but soft, âwe didnât really have to spar to figure out whatâs been happening.â
âOh?â you asked, tilting your head, a smile tugging at yours. âAnd howâs that?â
He stepped closer, eyes locking on yours, serious for a change. âEvery look. Every touch. Every time you laughed at something I saidâeven when you acted like you didnât notice me staringâyouâve been telling me the same thing all along.â
Heat rose to your cheeks as you softly asked, âAnd what exactly am I telling you?â
âThat you want this,â Joaquin whispered. He crouched slightly, coming level with you, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. âThat you want usâas ridiculous as it is.â
âRidiculous?â you echoed, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm on your cheek. You giggled at his choice of words and you loved the way his eyes softened.
âPerfectly ridiculous,â he murmured. âExactly what we are together.â
âSo Quino,â you laughed, quiet and breathless, âdoes this mean weâre ⊠official?â
Joaquin smiled, a little gentler now, and pulled you close into a hug.
âYeah,â he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. âOfficially us.â
You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. âI like that,â you whispered.
âGood,â he said, tilting his head down to meet yours, âbecause I plan on showing you every day how much I do.â
And then, finally, his lips found yoursâsoft at first, then deepening, warm and familiar. You laughed softly against him, heart racing, letting the tension, the teasing, and all the months of unspoken feelings melt away. Here, in this quiet room, it was just the two of youâpartners, teammates, lovers. Officially, undeniably together.