NASA
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hello vonnie
Jules of Nature
Cosimo Galluzzi
Misplaced Lens Cap
dirt enthusiast
Stranger Things
noise dept.
wallacepolsom
izzy's playlists!
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ojovivo
trying on a metaphor
oozey mess
Three Goblin Art
we're not kids anymore.
Today's Document
seen from United States
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@fishley
╰─ NAVIGATION ˊˎ-
𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙎 ➪ 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙀𝘿 (OPEN ON NEW ACC @wynnerwynner)
after finishing my chapter with this account three years ago, i am now starting a new one! i like to believe my writing has grown over the last three years, though i’d rather not toot my own horn. if you would like to follow my new, active account, follow me @wynnerwynner ! thank you everyone <3
requesting rules. chars i write for. masterlist.
fic recs , s&b | nikolai lantsov !
by @beautysamour
⤷ wrong destination
⤷ your beauty never ever scared me
3 times, 3 words by @bey0nd-1he-stars
i want you, bless my soul by @spencersfish
man of faith by @undiscovered-horizon
love language by @fishley
healer's duties by @fleurspun
by @clairecrive
⤷ young royals
⤷ mr perfectly fine
⤷ giving and receiving
✎ella's note !
hello again! back with more fic recs and this time it's the one and only nikolai mf lantsov, it's not much since im on a reading slump, but anyways hope u guys find these helpful! thx for reading muah<33
𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒
steve rogers x afab!nurse!reader
synopsis: following the fall out of the avengers, steve rogers needs somewhere to stay. knowing it'll only be a night and feeling in debt to sharon carter, you set aside your grievances and agree to have him stay with you.
request: no
warnings: no y/n, i use "she" once otherwise it's completely (correct me if im wrong) nondescript, swearing, mentions of blood and needles, angst, fluff, secret relationship, happy ending
wc: 4.5k
an: playing around with a new theme hehe i hope it looks good! this is also my first time writing in second person. i feel like i used "you" way too much but idk maybe i'm just not used to it 😭
no one asked for this and i rarely see steve imagines anymore but i had an idea while listening to griff back in jan and it just fit steve's character so well so i had to write it.
my requests are open and i am unemployed y'all so puhlease send me something 😩
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Sharon sighed into the phone. “I need a huge favour.”
Your brows furrowed at your wooden coffee table. “Uh, it depends.”
“You seen the news recently?”
So much had happened in US politics in a matter of a week. SHIELD founder Peggy Carter passed away at ninety-five; the UN presented a document that regulates the Avengers and any superhero-related activities; the UN was bombed and the King of Wakanda died in said bombing, including dozens injured if not missing; the Winter Soldier was apparently responsible for the bombing; Captain America and half the Avengers were arrested, and the Avengers Tower was officially on the market.
The first time you saw Steve Rogers get arrested on behalf of his childhood best friend was in a museum when you were twelve. A video interview with one of the Howling Commandos recounted the time Steve offered himself up after he’d ordered them on a rescue mission without higher permission. The second was a year after you’d started seeing him as a patient following coming out of the ice. He was being gunned down on national television for trying to save his best friend. Those in the infirmary took the evident terror on your face as the feeling many of them were experiencing, but they were deeply mistaken. Your coworkers, your patients, didn’t know Steve had become the person you went home to most nights. Your relationship was kept a secret for your safety and for both your sanities, but in that moment, you wondered if the secrecy was a bad decision. The third time was three days ago, when James Barnes’ arrest warrant was publicized after the UN bombing. You hadn’t been surprised when he was apprehended for attempting to reach Barnes before the government could. You worried about him, but you reminded yourself he wasn’t yours to worry about anymore. He hadn’t been for a long time. You had the thought that maybe he’d be safer now, finally stop making risky decisions. There was no coming back from this.
Then Sharon called.
“You still in that flat in Thirsk?” the agent asked.
“Yeah,” you leaned on your knees, anticipation making you anxious, “why?”
“Cap… kind of needs somewhere to hide.”
Your spine straightened like you’d been punched in the back.
“No,” was all you could manage as the memories threw themselves at the locked door in your mind.
Sharon Carter was the closest thing you had to a friend. She’d started as a patient, one of the many agents who often found themselves in SHIELD’s Washington infirmary. She was charismatic but to the point, calculated but emotional, and you found yourself enjoying her presence. Eventually, she’d start calling on you rather than going to the infirmary.
“Look—just hear me out,” she pleaded. “One night, max. He just needs somewhere with Wi-Fi and food to book a hotel. It’s tourist season so it’s not exactly like he can walk in and get a room. Hey, what if I bought you that window AC you’ve been saving up for? I will buy it for you. I’ll even get you one with heating—just because you’re such an amazing friend who does really nice things for me…”
Your fingernail came up to your teeth, but there was nothing left to chew on so you were forced to nibble on the peeling skin around it.
It had been two years since you’d seen Steve. He’d left you broken and confused. Sharon once asked if you’d ever find it in yourself to forgive him, but you weren’t sure how to do such a thing. You weren’t even sure you wanted to. You had ample reason to be angry and it had gotten to the point where you forgot what life was like before you were angry.
“Sharon, this is kind of a lot,” you rubbed the aching muscles in your shoulders.
“I told you it was a big favour,” you could almost see her sheepish grin. “He still thinks about you, you know?”
Your back hit the couch, and you stared at the popcorn ceiling. The red light of the smoke detector blinked mockingly.
“He regrets it,” she added in response to your silence.
You raised a brow, “Oh and he told you this?”
“No, but he asks about you. He wants to know you’re okay. He gets that sad, kicked puppy look in his eye whenever I tell him the same thing.”
She’s fine, is what you instructed Sharon to say. He didn’t need nor deserve anything more.
You looked at the time on the stove. It was almost mid-afternoon. You’d be starting dinner in a few hours.
“One night,” you finally said. “That’s it… and you owe me that HVAC unit plus another favour.”
“Anything for you.”
***
Hot chills ran across your body as someone knocked at your door. You stared at the slab of wood, food half-chewed in your mouth. Maybe if you waited long enough they’d leave. The second rap of knuckles forced a sigh from your nose. Your cutlery clinked against your plate and you swallowed. Your socks padded against the tiles as you headed for the door. Through the peep hole, you saw a man with his hands on his hips, a blue baseball cap concealing the nervous look you knew was on his face.
Your thoughts became rapid fire. Memory after moment replayed all at once in your mind. Years of pent up anger and lack of closure set your skin ablaze, twisted your lungs. You wanted to scream or punch him, but when you opened the door and were met with his familiar eyes, an ache settled in your heart and you felt yourself beginning to cower.
Steve’s eyes roved over you. Not much had changed. You were slightly older and slightly more tired, but he looked at you like you were a whole new person. He couldn’t seem to grasp the fact that you were in front of him. Maybe it was because he was somewhere else entirely.
“Hi,” he breathed.
You held the door with a white-knuckled grip, “Hi.”
After what seemed like years of staring at one another, Steve spoke up. “I’m sorry to just show up like this.”
“I invited you.”
“Right,” he directed his bashful half-smile hidden behind the bill of his cap to the floor.
It was a beautiful smile then and at just the glimpse of it now, you felt yourself melting all over again.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” he said.
“Who am I to denyCaptain America the shelter he so rightfully deserves?” You said the words before they could process in your mind. Whether they were meant as a jab or a joke, you couldn’t decide.
You could tell it had hurt him by the way his brows furrowed, but his lips formed a polite smile.
You opened the door wider for him. Steve took off his shoes, setting them neatly by the entrance, then looked around the small apartment.
“Nice place,” you heard him say as you headed for the table.
You didn’t reply, feeling a little too irritated to trust you’d say something respectful in return. You picked up the dish between the knife and fork you’d already set out for him and began spooning the extras you prepared at the counter. When you turned, he was waiting for you on his feet. You bit back a comment about being ever the polite man as you set his plate back on the table. The moment you pulled out your chair, he did too. You picked at the remains of your meal, face schooled in painful nonchalance at the corn.
“I’ve missed your cooking,” he admitted.
You nodded, brows twitching. Steve quietly shovelled mouthfuls of shepherd’s pie into his mouth. The food turned to sludge in your mouth by the time you remembered to swallow.
“You look good.”
Your eyes finally found his. He was watching you, trying to appear friendly. You looked him over. His white t-shirt was a little too tight and covered in dirty scuffs. There was a new scar peaking out from his brow and a healing cut on his bottom lip. He was slightly more muscular than the last you saw him. He was fitting into the new world nicely.
“You look like shit,” you observed.
Steve sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I’m trying to be nice,” he said softly.
“Sharon got me out of Washington, that’s why I’m doing this. I owed her. You made it clear a long time ago there was nothing I had to offer. You don’t need to try to be nice or anything just…” Your hand waved in dismissal, trying to quell the years of frustration finally getting its chance to strike.
Your chair scraped against the tile. As you rounded the table to take his empty plate, you noticed a red blotch a couple inches from his heart. You pushed aside the thin fabric of his shirt, your fingertips brushing his warm skin making him tense. A small jagged line had been sliced into his chest and someone with precise hands had stitched it back up, but there was fresh blood seeping from one end of the wound.
“Your stitches broke,” you murmured, then finally picked up his plate. “Go to the bathroom in my room. I’ll fix it.”
“You don’t have to,” he said despite rising.
“It’s my job,” you replied with your back to him.
When you finished rinsing the dishes, you found him exactly where you’d instructed him to go. He was sat on the lid of the toilet and had taken off his shirt. You did your best not to stare as flashes of sacred nights rapped on your mental door. You’d locked those memories out a long time ago, but sometimes they managed to slip through the cracks. Ignoring the aching in your heart, you took the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet.
In silence, he watched your concentrated face as you sterilized the wound and instruments. Ever since you met him, he’d pretend like he couldn’t feel the sting of an alcohol wipe. Out of the corner of your vision you noticed his knuckles turn white in his lap as you unlaced the old stitches.
“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence.
“I don’t want an apology,” you responded quietly.
“Then what do you want?”
Your eyes caught his, needle hovering over his open wound. Your gaze strayed to his lips, but only for a moment as you’d caught yourself.
The truth was, you didn’t know what you wanted. You wanted him and you wanted him to never speak to you again. You wanted him to hold you, tell you he was sorry until you forgot the meaning of the word, and you wanted him to leave in tears with regret evident in his posture.
Steve’s tough exterior was broken as you pierced the needle through his skin, his hand shooting out for the sink ledge. His brows lowered, the corners of his eyes creasing.
In a moment of sympathy, you decided to distract him from the pain. “How’s Fury?”
“Dead.”
“That man once walked into the infirmary with almost his entire arm hanging by the muscles of his shoulder,” you mumbled, pulling the string taught. “Dying by bullet wound is not his style. I don’t think he’d trust the Avengers in anyone else’s hands, anyway.”
Steve hung his head, his forehead inches from resting on your shoulder. You had the urge to cup the side of his neck, to press your lips to the thin skin just before his ear.
“He’s been somewhere else,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I haven’t seen him for almost a year.”
“How’s the team?”
A sigh left his lips at that. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news.”
“I did,” you fastened the string, kicking it with the small scissors. “I saw that Panther kicking your ass.”
Steve chuckled to himself, “Yeah, I’m sure you enjoyed that.”
“Is he the one who gave you this?” the pad of your pointer finger traced around the wound.
“Uh,” he looked down at her touch and swallowed. “No… that was Tony.”
“Must’ve been some disagreement.”
He didn’t say anything, but you could tell by the crease in his brow that what happened was eating away at him. You wished you could run your hands through his hair and he’d wrap his hands around the backs of your legs, pulling you in as you told him everything would be all right. By the way his fingers furled and unfurled, you wondered if he wished for that, too.
“I’ve missed you patching me up.”
Your eyes caught his, those blue eyes gazing deeply into yours. You flashed back to sitting on a balcony, smiling lazily as he traced patterns in your thigh; Steve pulling the bedsheets over you as you shivered against his chest, his arms snaking tighter around your middle.
You blinked, coming back to reality, coming back to the bloody needle and fresh stitches, the open medicine box on your counter. Silence ensued again and this time, you didn’t have the awareness to be bothered by it. You couldn’t stop thinking about the amount of times he smiled as you cleaned his wound or handed him a bandaid.
“So…” Steve said against the slow dripping of the tap, “you seeing anyone these days?”
Your tongue darted out to your bottom lip. “I was.”
“Can I ask what happened?”
You shut the lid of the box a little too hard and stared at the blue and white cross. “I kept picturing him as someone else.”
You put the first aid kit back where it was without sparing him a glance.
“You get the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
He said your name, beginning to protest, but you cut him off.
“I’m trying to be a good host, just sleep in the bed for God’s sake. I’ll survive a night on the couch.”
The time on the stove read almost eleven o’clock. With work, you’d usually be in bed earlier than this, so the weight of the day was heavy on you. You’d shut the door to the bedroom on your way out, then shut the lights in the living area. You maneuvered easily through the shadows toward the couch, picking up the mess of the blanket and lying down to close your eyes.
You lay there awake for what felt like hours, in an uncomfortable state of half-sleep. When you finally opened your eyes again, you found you weren’t the only one up.
Steve opened the bedroom door, pausing as the hinges omitted their usual creak, then continued toward the front door. As you watched him slip on his shoes, a familiar ache bloomed in your stomach. The old wound was reopening, the dark hole expanding. The pain scraped against your bones and sent hot shivers across your skin. Your eyes stung and you had to hold your breath to keep from breathing too heavily.
Steve put his hand on the knob, but didn’t twist.
“I’m going for a walk,” he said into the darkness. “You’re welcome to join me, if you’d like.”
You didn’t move for a moment, wondering how the hell he even knew you were watching him, but then you remembered who he was. He could probably hear your heart beating, let alone the unsteady rhythm of your breath. With your throat still constricted, you got up and put on your own shoes.
It was quiet on the darkened street aside from their shoes crunching loose pavement on the sidewalk. Somewhere, a dog barked and drunken teens laughed.
“I heard about Ms Carter,” you nodded, brows furrowed at your wellies. “I’m sorry.”
Steve nodded solemnly at your side. “She’s in a better place now.”
When you first met Steve, when you were just a nurse at SHIELD and he was freshly out of the ice, his mind had been on Peggy Carter. Then you cracked some jokes, distracted him with questions as you poked him with needles, you saw the other in the SHIELD lobby in Washington D.C., and it seemed like he started to find ways for you to cross paths. Peggy Carter had gone to the back of his mind, instead his thoughts being filled with you. With the encouragement of his neighbour, he worked up the strength to ask you out.
Sharon had invited you to drinks with some other SHIELD members and, too many shots in, you had no choice but to go home with her. Steve had caught you leaving her apartment early the next morning. You’d stopped dead in your tracks, hair a mess and jacket slung over your arm. After what felt like minutes of awkward conversation, he abashedly asked if you wanted to try a coffee shop down the block from work sometime. It had become a regular place for you two. It’s where you grew to know him as more than the historical figure. It’s where you grew to love him, deeper than you’d ever loved anyone.
“Do you like it here?”
You almost snapped at him, told him to stop with the niceties, but a part of you ached to tell him. “Yeah,” you replied, sucking in a breath as you mulled over your words. “I do,” was all you offered.
“You still a nurse?”
You nodded, pursing your lips at the pavement. You flinched as a rain drop hit you on the hairline. “Yeah, I work in the, uh, the medical centre just up the road.”
A knot formed between your brows as you debated on giving him more. You had been in Thirsk for several years now and despite that, you found it hard to make friends. A personal problem, rather than cultural. Everyone seemed to know each other and working in a small enough town, it was difficult to feel like it was okay seeing some of your patients outside of working hours. You had gone out with someone who was originally from Thirsk, his family still living here, but he had moved on. You’d caught him during one of his annual visits. It was supposed to be a one night stand but after realizing his family lived only a couple doors down from your apartment, you couldn’t help but bump into him. It felt like history repeating, and you tried to ignore the ache.
You thought you could make it work. Maybe he’d be good for you, but you thought of Steve any time he touched you. Every time he did something, you compared it to what Steve would have done or had already done. It wasn’t fair to him, so you’d called it off. You had been reluctant to let anyone in again after that.
“The town is small and it’s different from Washington,” you found yourself admitting. “It’s not bad. The people are nice and the weather’s an adjustment but…”
“It’s not home.”
You blinked at the streetlight. “Yeah.”
Silence ensued, eating away at your nerves. When Steve finally spoke, you quickly wished he hadn’t.
“You said something earlier…”
There was a steady fall of rain going now. Not the kind to get you soaked immediately, but not the kind where you wouldn’t want to be out in it for long.
“You said that I made it clear you had nothing to offer,” Steve continued.
You averted your gaze to the darkened red brick house, forcing him to look at the back of your head. Your tongue ran across your top teeth as you shook your head.
“It’s not important,” you said.
“It is important,” he emphasized. The way he said your name, like the most sacred thing, like a plea. It crushed your chest.
“No, it’s not,” you shook your head again, attempting to pick up the pace, leaving him a short ways behind in the process.
“I can understand why you feel that way,” he tried to keep up with her. “You deserve to be upset with me.”
You found yourself whipping around, the sudden jerk of your physical movement and exclamation of your words stopping him in his tracks. “You left without saying goodbye. You left like I didn’t mean anythingto you!”
“I left because I didn’t want you to get hurt!” he pleaded. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself knowing I led the bad guys right to you.”
“That’s such bullshit.”
He said your name with such sorrow that it felt like your heart was breaking all over again. You stared at his slumped figure, the wet hair sticking to his forehead, his clothes clinging his skin.
“I waited…” you searched the sky for words, throwing your arms up uselessly, “so long! I waited so long for nothing. I couldn’t even visit you in the hospital. Do you know what that was like? I watched you fall to your death on live TV and then I couldn’t visit you in the hospital. Then you go and leave the god damn country without so much as a goodbye!”
Your voice had grown, echoing off the houses on either side. You heard the slide of a window opening, and you spun around, putting a hand to your mouth as you tried to calm yourself down in a manner of seconds.
Willie’s dark outline, an elderly man who you saw regularly around the neighbourhood and in the medical centre, stuck half-out the window. “For fuck’s sake, it’s half past two in the mornin’! What the bloody hell is goin’ on down there?”
“Sorry, Willie,” you squeezed your eyes shut, fighting the headache that pulsed with every drop of rain. “Go back to sleep.”
“Christ,” he said your name like you scared him half to death. “You sure? Don’t need to me to give the coppers a ring?”
“No, no, good night Willie,” you waved him off. “Sorry to disturb your eight hours.”
“Right, I’ll let Doctor Burke know you’re the cause of my raised blood pressure,” he teased, though his tone was rather exhausted. “Just give a shout if you change your mind. I’m sure I’ll be up for the next hour or so.”
“Yeah, night Willie,” you said again, wishing you could escape this moment.
You had managed to live a quiet life in Thirsk and you wished to keep it that way. There was a sort of loneliness that had grown inside you over the years. It was suffocating, almost debilitating. It had gotten to the point where you were afraid if anyone even mentioned the Avengers around you, that you might explode in a tsunami of recollections and unrequited emotions.
When the window slammed shut again, you still couldn’t bring yourself to face Steve. Your clothes were beginning to stick to your shoulders, your damp hair only adding to the weight of your head.
“I didn’t like leaving the way I did,” Steve said. “I didn’t—That’s not what I wanted but after everything that came out of Hydra, everything that happened, I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure who to trust. I didn’t know if you were one of them or not.”
It was like a slap in the face. The impact of his words landed and they landed hard, almost enough to knock you off your feet. You turned with fisted hands, anger and upset swelling in your chest.
“I waited weeks for you,” you said, throat constricting. “I—I told you things about myself I never told anyone else. I tried new things for you, I gave you parts of myself I didn’t know I had. I had to leave my home because I couldn’t escape you. I can’t go back to Washington, Steve. My dad doesn’t know why I won’t come home. He loved you, they all did.”
You fought the years of emotion threatening to spill, all those tears you’d shoved down because he wasn’t worth it. It was not worth it to cry over a man, but it was Steve. Steve was everything. He still is everything.
Steve watched you, darkened hair sticking to his forehead, rain or maybe tears dripping from his jaw.
“I thought we were okay,” you said. “You told me we were okay.”
You put a couple more inches between you two and hid your face by turning your gaze to the sidewalk that would lead you to the medical centre. Footsteps approached, stopping a few feet from you. You wouldn’t let him see you cry, so you wiped at your cheeks furiously, managing to slow the onslaught of tears, but the anger and hurt hung heavy. It wrapped around you like a wet blanket, silently suffocating you, leaving just enough room to survive the moment.
“I’m sorry,” he said against the sound of raindrops on tiled roofs.
“Let’s just get through the rest of the night.” You swallowed thickly. “You can leave in the morning and we don’t have to see each other again.”
“I don’t have to go.”
When you looked at him he had that sad, kicked puppy look in his eyes. It took everything to not burst into tears. The sadness he felt was the same as yours, you realized. He was feeling your pain just like you’d wished for years, but now that you were witnessing it you wanted to take it away.
“I’m sorry,” he said your name with the same conviction.
Steve’s hand cupped your cheek. Your jaw threatened to tremble as you were reminded of the softness of his touch. He was warm, just like he’d always been. He was the one bit of warmth you lacked in this town.
“I thought you loved me,” you said.
“I did—I, I do,” he stammered. “I do.”
You couldn’t help it when you set your hand on top of his. Your fingers squeezed his and he squeezed back with mirrored fervour. Then he leaned down and kissed you. It was gentle and full of love. Steve held your face with both hands, one of yours still gripping his fingers and the other on his middle. So many things had happened, so many things had changed, but his kiss was still the same. It was like being welcomed home and you stepped through the doors without hesitation.
When you were both out of breath and longed to be closer, you pulled back. Steve’s breath fanned over your face, his shoulders hunched as he gazed into your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I can’t say it enough to make up for what I’ve done, so let me stay. We can try again, if you’ll have me. If not then I’ll leave. You won’t have to—”
You kissed him again, effectively cutting him off as your fingers brushed the hair at the nape of his neck. Your forehead pressed against his and you buried yourself in his embrace, feeling your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.
“I’ve missed you,” you said.
Steve’s head raised to press his lips against your temple. He sighed against your skin and replied, “I’ve missed you, too.”
SPOILERS FOR IRONHEART
All of you that are saying riri is out of pocket, should have known better, is a pos, blah blah blah shut your mouth for a second and consider what I have to say
It is SO CLEAR which of you guys have not experienced trauma, ESPECIALLY the kind that alters your brain chemistry to the point where you don’t recognize yourself anymore. You don’t understand her nor the things she’s going through, that’s why you don’t like her.
She isn’t a badly written character, she isn’t lacking relatability, she isn’t boring, she isn’t one dimensional. She is complex, she is morally grey, she’s an antihero. She is in fucking pain.
At the end of the day if you still don’t get it and complain about the smallest things like someone referring to Tony Stark as “that Tony guy”, maybe (just a wild guess) you’re just racist. Please do some self reflection and come back to reality before you say or do some real dumb shit
𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐉𝐎𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍
uncle!joaquin torres x afab!reader
synopsis: while y/n meets joaquin's family, she wonders if its time to start one their own.
request: yes
wc: 1.4k
a/n: i wrote this while having a migraine and got too excited not to post this immediately LOL this is my first time writing for joaquin so any feedback is appreciated <333
“You’re here!”
Joaquin leapt down the porch steps, landing flat on his feet.
Y/N suppressed a grin, flapping her arms uselessly at her sides, “I thought about bailing but realized that’d probably be ru—”
She yelped as her feet left the sidewalk, holding onto Joaquin’s shoulders as her spun her. His hands rested on her waist when he set her down. Love shone bright in his eyes as he gazed at her.
“I’m nervous,” Y/N admitted.
“What? No, don’t be nervous,” he rubbed her arms reassuringly. “Look, I’ll be there with you the whole time. I won’t leave your side.”
“Do I look all right?” she glanced at her clothes. “Do I look good?”
“Yeah, you look good.” His smile sharpened into a smirk as he eyed her up, “Gimme a spin.”
Joaquin’s hand slid down her arm as she stepped back, taking her fingers.
“Okay, baby!” He cheered as she spun.
Y/N threw her head back as she laughed. “Okay, okay. Your turn. Come on!”
Joaquin held his hands up in surrender as he used his heels to turn himself.
“Okay,” she drawled, encouraging him.
He popped the collar of his button-up and forced his face in an exaggerated look of flirtation.
She erupted in a fit of laughter, “I hate it when you do that.”
“Why?” he fought to hide his smile. “Don’t I look handsome?”
She closed the distance between them, fixing his collar as she giggled, “Yeah, handsome Squidward.”
He put a hand to his heart, the other cupping her neck, “You wound me, mi amor.”
Y/N smiled as she leaned in, kissing him softly. Joaquin leaned in, deepening the kiss and as he went in for more, she pushed away.
“Mi amor,” he drawled, reaching for her.
“Your family could be watching!”
Joaquin’s smile turned soft, the one that always had her melting in his hands, “I don’t care.”
“I do,” she emphasized.
He smiled at her a moment longer before his hand shot out. Y/N yelped as he poked her under the rib. She watched him with her mouth open as he darted for the door like an idiot.
Y/N met Joaquin at the garden centre she worked at. He’d been dragged along by his mother and grandmother. She’d noticed him a couple isles away as she packed flowers into fresh pots, nearly jumping and repeatedly half-twisting at the waist as he anxiously followed behind them. Y/N smiled at his boyish behaviour, Joaquin speaking excitedly in Spanish and clearly bothering his grandmother who smacked him in the arm with a wrinkled hand every now and then. Then he’d stopped to get a proper look at the place as he caught Y/N’s gaze. All the energy had seemingly left his body, a small smile creepy up his lips. He waved at her but she’d only smiled, averting her gaze back to her work.
Joaquin was awkward and dorky but charismatic and funny. The more dates he took her on, the more she fell for him. He was patient and attentive and he held the door for her. He refused to let her pay and brought her flowers on every date. He let her set the tone, not rushing her into anything she wasn’t comfortable with and she appreciated that most. When she said she’d like something more, he nearly leapt into the air with the same energy she saw in the greenhouse.
Y/N raced towards him up the steps and he laughed as she fought to poke him back.
“You’re such a little shit,” she said through her teeth, but a smile threatened to appear.
Joaquin pressed a hard kiss to her cheek before opening the door with his hand in hers. When she stepped inside, her senses were overloaded by voices, music, and the scent of homemade food. Joaquin’s grandmother’s home was small but cozy, more welcoming than she’d anticipated. He pulled her into the living room and it seemed as though the entire house erupted in cheers at the sight of them. She squeezed his hand as his family crowded around them, introducing themselves with cheek kisses and hugs. Joaquin clapped cousins on the shoulder and ruffled the kids sticking to their parents like glue. Y/N was overwhelmed, pleasantries all but a blur as they made their way through the crowd.
“Abu,” Joaquin called into the kitchen. “Abuela.”
“Mm,” the old woman she saw at the greenhouse a year ago turned from the counter, a colourful apron tied around her waist.
Joaquin kissed her on the cheeks before saying in Spanish, “Abu, this is Y/N.”
“Aye, Y/N!” The older woman came toward her with her arms open. She took her face in her wrinkled hands, pressing a kiss to each cheek.
“It is very nice to finally meet you, Abuela,” Y/N smiled.
She turned to her grandson, saying something in Spanish she couldn’t quite catch but it made her pinch Joaquin’s cheek and his ears turn red.
Y/N eyed the kitchen counters covered in colourful foods, the pot nearly boiling over on the stove. “Can I help you with anything?”
“No, no, no, no. You go,” she waved them off. “Go, go.”
Joaquin pulled her out into the backyard where more of his family loitered. The younger children seemed to gravitate to the grass, running and chasing each other as they laughed. Joaquin caught the attention of his brother who stood alongside his wife and when she turned, Y/N’s mouth dropped.
“Oh, my God, Joaquin,” Y/N squeezed his arm.
An infant lay asleep in her arms, no more than a few months old. She said hello to Joaquin’s brother and sister-in-law but couldn’t take her eyes off the baby.
“Give me my nephew,” Joaquin reached out.
“Where are your manners?” she chided, but handed the baby over with a smile.
The baby opened his eyes, fussing for a moment before Joaquin shushed him, bouncing him gently.
“This is Ramón,” he said softly.
“You look good with a baby in your arms, Joaquin,” his sister-in-law teased.
“He’s beautiful, Ana,” said Y/N.
“The baby or your boyfriend?” she joked, making them all laugh.
Y/N hugged Joaquin’s bicep, resting her head on his shoulder as she observed Ramón yawn.
“¡Tio Joaquin!”
His niece and nephew ran up to him, his nephew pulling the bottom of his shirt.
“Come play!” his nephew giggled, stretching the fabric with his small hand.
“We want you to get us!” said his niece.
“Vale, vale,” Joaquin nodded, urging the baby back to Ana.
Joaquin stared at them a moment longer before suddenly lunging forward. They screamed and ran away, Joaquin chasing after them. Y/N watched them from the patio with a smile on her face. Eventually, he fell back on the grass, out of breath, but the kids took it as an invitation to jump on him. They piled on, the adults laughing as they watched.
“How long have you been dating?” asked Ana.
“A little over a year,” answered Joaquin’s brother.
“I didn’t ask you,” Ana scolded, elbowing him.
Y/N had met Joaquin’s brother previously, finding that they were almost the same person. She only laughed when he replied out of excitement rather than disrespect.
“He’s right,” Y/N nodded. “I wanted to take it slow.”
“Ever talk of getting married?”
A small smile formed on her lips. “We’ve talked about it. I think we’re just waiting for the right time. The world’s still healing from the Blip, you know?”
“There’s no rush, hon,” Ana reassured her. “Take your time.”
Joaquin jogged up to them, sweating through his shirt and trying to catch his breath.
“Have fun?” Y/N asked, snaking an arm around his middle.
“I think I’ll need to rest tomorrow,” he breathed, kissing her hairline. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“Ah, old man,” she patted his back, making him smile.
After a moment, she gazed at him, “Ana’s right. You look good with a baby in your arms.”
Joaquin fully turned his body toward her, a smile brightening his face. “Y/N,” he sang.
“Yes, pretty boy?” she teased.
He leaned in close so only she could hear, “I could make you the prettiest babies, mi amor.”
“Hold on,” she said, “I’d be the one doing the making.”
“Yes, you’re right,” he held her face in his hands. “I could help make you the prettiest babies.”
“Not so fast,” Y/N warned. “Marriage first.”
With an entranced look in his eyes, he slowly lowered himself to the ground.
“Oh, stop it!” Before his knee could touch the concrete, she forced him to his feet again.
Joaquin smiled wide and kissed her cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she squeezed his bicep.
I headcanon that, in moments of peace, Bob fidgets with his partner's hair, because he likes the feeling in his fingers😭😭
.- (🦇)
𝐇𝐂: 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑
bob reynolds x nb!reader
warnings: spoiler free :)
a/n: i highkey love writing headcanons bc they're so easy and quick to put together hehe gimme more y'all
Bob is a huge fidgeter
With his attention span being so short and his own thoughts simply being loud in his head, he almost always needs something to occupy him
Before he met you, he’d pick at the skin around his fingers or bite his nails
He wanted to break the habit but he found himself doing it without even realizing
Then when you came along he found himself more at ease
He was able to finally break the habit by touching you instead
It started out when he would read a book and with your head on his lap he’d run his fingers through your hair
As his nails grew back and the biting almost entirely ceased, the feeling of his nails gently scratching your scalp brought you both comfort
His fidgeting with your hair progressed as time went on
Bob never used to attend team meetings because he could never participate in being a superhero but he changed his mind after you showed up
He wanted to stay up to date on what was happening and lend his support to you however he could
When you’d get stressed trying to come up with a plan, his hand would snake up the back of your neck and settle at your hair line, his fingers scratching and massaging your scalp there
Sometimes you’d catch him biting his nails so you’d take his fingers in your own and his free hand would come up to your face
He’d push your hair behind your ear, then pull it loose again just so he could feel the softness as he rid it from your eyes one last time
His favourite thing was when you’d come back from a long mission and lay in bed
Bob would bring you in close to him and stroke your hair until you fell asleep against his chest
On nights he couldn’t sleep he’d turn over and brush the hair from your face so he could see your features properly
When you were out somewhere and he noticed your hair getting tangled, he’d gently run his fingers through, detangling the small or big knots he found
He loved when you let him brush your hair
You even taught him how to braid and sometimes when you were on the couch with the team watching a movie or in bed after a long day, you’d find him absentmindedly braiding it
𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋
bob reynolds x afab!avenger!reader
request: yes, yes
warnings: brief mention of drowning, oblivious idiots, spoiler free :)
wc: 1.9k
a/n: i listened to pushing it down and praying while editing hehe
Y/N’s narrowed eyes searched the common area of the Watchtower. In a corner of the floor-to-ceiling windows, Bob was curled in a chair with a book in his lap. It was one of the ones they’d recommended to her.
“Hey,” she smiled, giving his shoulder a nudge as she approached.
Bob did a double-take, then grinned softly. “Hi. What’s up?”
The ends of his hair curled, getting in his eyes a little, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I found a cool bookstore online and I was thinking of going,” she explained. “Wanna join?”
Bob was one of the first people to truly make Y/N feel welcome. He hadn’t been the first one to introduce himself but he’d stood out. From the get-go, he was kind and careful, the complete opposite of men she’d met in the past. He seemed so normal. It made her heart ache sometimes.
“Uh…” he peered at his book, then as if thinking better of himself, he shook his head and closed it. “Yes—yeah, that’d be… that’d be cool.”
Valentina rarely gave the Avengers a break. It finally took Yelena putting her foot down for them to get a vacation. They had two weeks to themselves and Y/N would finally take the opportunity to visit some places she hadn’t gotten the chance to yet. It was also a good excuse to get Bob out of the Tower.
“When was the last time you left the Tower?” Y/N teased, shoulders rigid and fists deep in her pockets as she fought to block out the bitter wind.
“A long time, I guess,” his lips wobbled into an abashed smile. “Hey, I thought you didn’t get cold.”
“You’d think that,” she muttered indignantly. “I drown in a frozen lake and emerge with cold manipulation but my body doesn’t acclimate.”
“Here,” Bob shrugged off his jacket.
Despite the cold wind, Y/N face burned. “Oh, no, no,” she chuckled sheepishly.
“It’s all right,” he reassured. “I run hot, anyway.”
The brunette held out his jacket, allowing her to slip her arms in. Warmth enveloped her instantly. The smell of laundry detergent and trees filled her nose, bringing a sort of comfort to her.
“How’s that?” half his mouth quirked.
Y/N nodded, ignoring the deep ache in her stomach, “Better. Thank you.”
The walk to the bookstore was anything but quiet. Y/N was one of the few people to know that once you got close with Bob, he was a talker. He could be as excited as a little kid if you brought up the right topic. Books seemed to be one of those things.
A bell dinged as they entered the bookstore. Y/N nearly sighed aloud as the smell of books with glue older than her and yellowing pages filled her nose. To one wall were shelves of instrumental tools with guitars displayed above them. In other sections of long shelves there were action figures, electronics, vinyls and CDs, relatively new books, and old books. Y/N felt herself gravitating to the far right of the store where RARE READS was printed in large, red lettering on the wall.
A smile came over her lips as she noticed different prints of Pride and Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, and Little Women lining the shelves. Y/N’s gaze caught on Bob as he pulled a thin book from the shelf. It was bound in an orangey brown paper with intricate beige designs. The title and author stood out in lanky, black letters on the front.
“Have you read The Yellow Wallpaper?”
Y/N’s tone was so soft that it almost surprised her. She hadn’t wanted to sound so delicate of a question, cringing to herself as he did a double-take and seemingly hid his gaze from her.
“Uh… yeah,” he chuckled. “It was a mandatory read in high school. I dropped out before finishing it but I picked it up again recently and it’s probably one of my top favourites.”
Y/N almost couldn’t believe it. Her stomach twisted and she was overcome with a sense of relief. Oddly, it brought her a new sense of security around him.
Her brain struggled to form words so she opted for a soft, approving smile. Bob shot her a glance before gazing back to the book in his hands and continuing down the aisle. Y/N plucked book after book of the shelves, relishing in the crackling sound the pages made as she opened and closed them.
“Hey, Y/N,” Bob called.
At the end of the aisle, he held up a small box. As she stepped closer, she recognized it as a Winter Soldier action figure. Everything seemed to be accurate, except for his nose. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, taking the plastic from his hand to study it.
“There’s one of you, too,” he said.
“Oh, God,” Y/N groaned, already imagining the worst.
When she looked at it, her face screwed up in embarrassment. Her eyes were a little too tilted and her lips a little too pursed.
“I look drunk,” she covered her mouth with her free hand.
Her action-figure-self was doing her signature move when she attempted to shoot icicles from her hands. They’d painted her fingertips and a dot on her palm blue for effect.
“It’s pretty accurate, actually,” he said.
At Y/N’s gaping mouth, Bob spluttered in apology, “I am so sorry, I—”
Y/N suddenly laughed, whether it was at his embarrassment or her own, she didn’t know. Bob’s face burned red, his chin tucking into his chest as she hid behind his hair.
“I—I didn’t mean it like that,” he spoke quickly. “I meant, like, you always look like that because you look beautiful.”
Bob’s mouth slowly shut as Y/N went quiet, her laughter dying off into a soft stare. She didn’t know what to say. It was so random coming from him. Did he mean it how she thought he meant it? No, that was stupid. He didn’t like her! He’s her teammate, that’d be unprofessional! It was definitely platonic. Bob was just being nice. He was always nice.
“Thank you,” she replied, a little more sheepish than she’d have liked.
Bob nodded, his tongue darting out to his bottom lip. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”
They stayed in the shop another thirty minutes just looking at everything. She found out Bob had a love for classics and thrillers. While she had only read more of the popular classics, her heart warmed in appreciation.
When the Watchtower elevator dinged and the doors dragged open, they were greeted by their entire team in the common area.
“Well, look who’s back,” John’s voice echoed from a velvet chair across the room.
All eyes went to Bob and Y/N, making them stop in their tracks. The plastic bag in Bob’s hand crinkled throughout the quiet room as he gripped it.
“You owe me twenty bucks,” Ava pointed at Alexei.
Y/N eyed her teammates, “Why does it feel like there’s an intervention happening.”
“Not ‘intervention’,” said Yelena from the kitchen island. “More like… a celebration.”
“Is it someone’s birthday?” Bob quirked a bewildered smile.
“We’re celebrating your first date,” Bucky said flatly as he poured a glass of whiskey.
Y/N’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull, her neck pushing forward at the force of her surprise. “Our what?”
“Ha!” Alexei shouted, pointing back at Ava. “You owe me twenty bucks!”
“I’m extremely confused,” Bob chuckled uncomfortably.
“Ava and I make bet on whether you two like each other,” Alexei shrugged. “I win.”
Y/N glanced to Bob, who seemed just as confused as her, if not more.
“She’s wearing his jacket!” Ava exclaimed.
“Friends give each other clothes of their backs!” Alexei argued. “It is perfectly okay!”
“There is literally nothing normal about that, at all,” John agreed.
“Thank you—Wait, no,” Ava stopped herself, eyes closing. “No, I don’t want to thank you. You don’t deserve it.”
“Excuse me—”
“Guys, I hate to break it to you, but Bob and I are just friends,” Y/N chuckled, her face burning. “There’s nothing going on between us. I don’t even like Bob like that!”
“Yeah, I don’t even like her like that,” Bob scratched the back of his neck, eyes on the floor.
“Then why are you blushing,” said John.
Y/N shot daggers at John, who only smiled mischievously.
“Come on,” Yelena groaned. “Whenever we come back from a mission, you and Bob are the first ones you talk to; Bob reads your favourite books; you help him with the dishes; you sit beside each other on the couch every time—”
“Don’t forget about that time they fell asleep together,” Bucky pointed out from beside her.
Yelena smacked the super soldier’s chest with the back of her hand in agreement. “You fell asleep on each other during a movie and we just left you there!” she echoed.
The room was quiet as Y/N and Bob found themselves at a loss for words.
After an awkward departure to her room, Y/N lay awake on her bed. Car horns and the singing of brakes filtered through her cracked window. The only light in her dark room came from the moon.
There was a part of her that admitted some things about her and Bob’s friendship were bordering on romantic. The only time she’d shared a jacket with someone else was when her they had a crush on her and offered. Bob had called her beautiful in the store and no guy had ever called her beautiful without it being romantic. When a mission ended, all she could think about was getting home to Bob and telling him everything that had happened. He brought her a level of comfort she hadn’t known in a long time. He made her day infinitely better by simply smiling. She couldn’t get enough of his company.
A knock resounded through her door, startling her from her thoughts.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Bob,” he replied. “I—I can come back another time if it’s—”
Y/N scrambled to her door and ripped it open faster than intended. He stood on the other side, arms loose at his sides, hands hidden in his sleeves.
“Hi,” he sighed.
“Hey.”
In the fluorescent hallway lights, she realized that his eyes were a dark blue. As dark as the deepest part of the sea. She felt herself getting lost in them before he quirked a smile.
“Can I come in?”
“Uh,” Y/N scrambled to catch her bearings, “yeah.”
Bob squeezed past her and took a seat at the end of her bed. He’d sat there many times before as she finished getting ready for a mission or for a special event Valentina was ordered them to. She remembered the way he looked at her when she would come out in the fancy outfits. He’d seem to be at a loss for words, but she’d laugh it off as him being socially awkward and being too afraid to say the wrong thing. He was always so respectful.
“I had a lot of fun today,” he broke the silence again.
Y/N nodded, taking a seat beside him. “Me too. I’m glad you came with me.”
“I’m glad I did, too.” He smiled at her, but it faltered as he studied her face.
“What?”
Bob’s brows furrowed. “I’ve been thinking, um, about what everyone said.”
Y/N gazed at the cream carpeted floor, “Me too.”
“Really? Um… actually, I wanted to know if you’d go on a real date. With me. Sometime. You know, only if you’re up to it. It’s okay if you—”
Y/N’s face broke out into a smile and she laid a hand on top of his, effectively silencing his rambling. “I’d love to.”
Bob stared at their fingers, then spluttered a laugh and nodded. “All right. It’s a date.”
𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋
bob reynolds x fem!avenger!reader
request: yes, yes
warnings: brief mention of drowning, oblivious idiots, spoiler free :)
wc: 1.9k
a/n: i listened to pushing it down and praying while editing hehe
Y/N’s narrowed eyes searched the common area of the Watchtower. In a corner of the floor-to-ceiling windows, Bob was curled in a chair with a book in his lap. It was one of the ones they’d recommended to her.
“Hey,” she smiled, giving his shoulder a nudge as she approached.
Bob did a double-take, then grinned softly. “Hi. What’s up?”
The ends of his hair curled, getting in his eyes a little, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I found a cool bookstore online and I was thinking of going,” she explained. “Wanna join?”
Bob was one of the first people to truly make Y/N feel welcome. He hadn’t been the first one to introduce himself but he’d stood out. From the get-go, he was kind and careful, the complete opposite of men she’d met in the past. He seemed so normal. It made her heart ache sometimes.
“Uh…” he peered at his book, then as if thinking better of himself, he shook his head and closed it. “Yes—yeah, that’d be… that’d be cool.”
Valentina rarely gave the Avengers a break. It finally took Yelena putting her foot down for them to get a vacation. They had two weeks to themselves and Y/N would finally take the opportunity to visit some places she hadn’t gotten the chance to yet. It was also a good excuse to get Bob out of the Tower.
“When was the last time you left the Tower?” Y/N teased, shoulders rigid and fists deep in her pockets as she fought to block out the bitter wind.
“A long time, I guess,” his lips wobbled into an abashed smile. “Hey, I thought you didn’t get cold.”
“You’d think that,” she muttered indignantly. “I drown in a frozen lake and emerge with cold manipulation but my body doesn’t acclimate.”
“Here,” Bob shrugged off his jacket.
Despite the cold wind, Y/N face burned. “Oh, no, no,” she chuckled sheepishly.
“It’s all right,” he reassured. “I run hot, anyway.”
The brunette held out his jacket, allowing her to slip her arms in. Warmth enveloped her instantly. The smell of laundry detergent and trees filled her nose, bringing a sort of comfort to her.
“How’s that?” half his mouth quirked.
Y/N nodded, ignoring the deep ache in her stomach, “Better. Thank you.”
The walk to the bookstore was anything but quiet. Y/N was one of the few people to know that once you got close with Bob, he was a talker. He could be as excited as a little kid if you brought up the right topic. Books seemed to be one of those things.
A bell dinged as they entered the bookstore. Y/N nearly sighed aloud as the smell of books with glue older than her and yellowing pages filled her nose. To one wall were shelves of instrumental tools with guitars displayed above them. In other sections of long shelves there were action figures, electronics, vinyls and CDs, relatively new books, and old books. Y/N felt herself gravitating to the far right of the store where RARE READS was printed in large, red lettering on the wall.
A smile came over her lips as she noticed different prints of Pride and Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, and Little Women lining the shelves. Y/N’s gaze caught on Bob as he pulled a thin book from the shelf. It was bound in an orangey brown paper with intricate beige designs. The title and author stood out in lanky, black letters on the front.
“Have you read The Yellow Wallpaper?”
Y/N’s tone was so soft that it almost surprised her. She hadn’t wanted to sound so delicate of a question, cringing to herself as he did a double-take and seemingly hid his gaze from her.
“Uh… yeah,” he chuckled. “It was a mandatory read in high school. I dropped out before finishing it but I picked it up again recently and it’s probably one of my top favourites.”
Y/N almost couldn’t believe it. Her stomach twisted and she was overcome with a sense of relief. Oddly, it brought her a new sense of security around him.
Her brain struggled to form words so she opted for a soft, approving smile. Bob shot her a glance before gazing back to the book in his hands and continuing down the aisle. Y/N plucked book after book of the shelves, relishing in the crackling sound the pages made as she opened and closed them.
“Hey, Y/N,” Bob called.
At the end of the aisle, he held up a small box. As she stepped closer, she recognized it as a Winter Soldier action figure. Everything seemed to be accurate, except for his nose. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, taking the plastic from his hand to study it.
“There’s one of you, too,” he said.
“Oh, God,” Y/N groaned, already imagining the worst.
When she looked at it, her face screwed up in embarrassment. Her eyes were a little too tilted and her lips a little too pursed.
“I look drunk,” she covered her mouth with her free hand.
Her action-figure-self was doing her signature move when she attempted to shoot icicles from her hands. They’d painted her fingertips and a dot on her palm blue for effect.
“It’s pretty accurate, actually,” he said.
At Y/N’s gaping mouth, Bob spluttered in apology, “I am so sorry, I—”
Y/N suddenly laughed, whether it was at his embarrassment or her own, she didn’t know. Bob’s face burned red, his chin tucking into his chest as she hid behind his hair.
“I—I didn’t mean it like that,” he spoke quickly. “I meant, like, you always look like that because you look beautiful.”
Bob’s mouth slowly shut as Y/N went quiet, her laughter dying off into a soft stare. She didn’t know what to say. It was so random coming from him. Did he mean it how she thought he meant it? No, that was stupid. He didn’t like her! He’s her teammate, that’d be unprofessional! It was definitely platonic. Bob was just being nice. He was always nice.
“Thank you,” she replied, a little more sheepish than she’d have liked.
Bob nodded, his tongue darting out to his bottom lip. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”
They stayed in the shop another thirty minutes just looking at everything. She found out Bob had a love for classics and thrillers. While she had only read more of the popular classics, her heart warmed in appreciation.
When the Watchtower elevator dinged and the doors dragged open, they were greeted by their entire team in the common area.
“Well, look who’s back,” John’s voice echoed from a velvet chair across the room.
All eyes went to Bob and Y/N, making them stop in their tracks. The plastic bag in Bob’s hand crinkled throughout the quiet room as he gripped it.
“You owe me twenty bucks,” Ava pointed at Alexei.
Y/N eyed her teammates, “Why does it feel like there’s an intervention happening.”
“Not ‘intervention’,” said Yelena from the kitchen island. “More like… a celebration.”
“Is it someone’s birthday?” Bob quirked a bewildered smile.
“We’re celebrating your first date,” Bucky said flatly as he poured a glass of whiskey.
Y/N’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull, her neck pushing forward at the force of her surprise. “Our what?”
“Ha!” Alexei shouted, pointing back at Ava. “You owe me twenty bucks!”
“I’m extremely confused,” Bob chuckled uncomfortably.
“Ava and I make bet on whether you two like each other,” Alexei shrugged. “I win.”
Y/N glanced to Bob, who seemed just as confused as her, if not more.
“She’s wearing his jacket!” Ava exclaimed.
“Friends give each other clothes of their backs!” Alexei argued. “It is perfectly okay!”
“There is literally nothing normal about that, at all,” John agreed.
“Thank you—Wait, no,” Ava stopped herself, eyes closing. “No, I don’t want to thank you. You don’t deserve it.”
“Excuse me—”
“Guys, I hate to break it to you, but Bob and I are just friends,” Y/N chuckled, her face burning. “There’s nothing going on between us. I don’t even like Bob like that!”
“Yeah, I don’t even like her like that,” Bob scratched the back of his neck, eyes on the floor.
“Then why are you blushing,” said John.
Y/N shot daggers at John, who only smiled mischievously.
“Come on,” Yelena groaned. “Whenever we come back from a mission, you and Bob are the first ones you talk to; Bob reads your favourite books; you help him with the dishes; you sit beside each other on the couch every time—”
“Don’t forget about that time they fell asleep together,” Bucky pointed out from beside her.
Yelena smacked the super soldier’s chest with the back of her hand in agreement. “You fell asleep on each other during a movie and we just left you there!” she echoed.
The room was quiet as Y/N and Bob found themselves at a loss for words.
After an awkward departure to her room, Y/N lay awake on her bed. Car horns and the singing of brakes filtered through her cracked window. The only light in her dark room came from the moon.
There was a part of her that admitted some things about her and Bob’s friendship were bordering on romantic. The only time she’d shared a jacket with someone else was when her they had a crush on her and offered. Bob had called her beautiful in the store and no guy had ever called her beautiful without it being romantic. When a mission ended, all she could think about was getting home to Bob and telling him everything that had happened. He brought her a level of comfort she hadn’t known in a long time. He made her day infinitely better by simply smiling. She couldn’t get enough of his company.
A knock resounded through her door, startling her from her thoughts.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Bob,” he replied. “I—I can come back another time if it’s—”
Y/N scrambled to her door and ripped it open faster than intended. He stood on the other side, arms loose at his sides, hands hidden in his sleeves.
“Hi,” he sighed.
“Hey.”
In the fluorescent hallway lights, she realized that his eyes were a dark blue. As dark as the deepest part of the sea. She felt herself getting lost in them before he quirked a smile.
“Can I come in?”
“Uh,” Y/N scrambled to catch her bearings, “yeah.”
Bob squeezed past her and took a seat at the end of her bed. He’d sat there many times before as she finished getting ready for a mission or for a special event Valentina was ordered them to. She remembered the way he looked at her when she would come out in the fancy outfits. He’d seem to be at a loss for words, but she’d laugh it off as him being socially awkward and being too afraid to say the wrong thing. He was always so respectful.
“I had a lot of fun today,” he broke the silence again.
Y/N nodded, taking a seat beside him. “Me too. I’m glad you came with me.”
“I’m glad I did, too.” He smiled at her, but it faltered as he studied her face.
“What?”
Bob’s brows furrowed. “I’ve been thinking, um, about what everyone said.”
Y/N gazed at the cream carpeted floor, “Me too.”
“Really? Um… actually, I wanted to know if you’d go on a real date. With me. Sometime. You know, only if you’re up to it. It’s okay if you—”
Y/N’s face broke out into a smile and she laid a hand on top of his, effectively silencing his rambling. “I’d love to.”
Bob stared at their fingers, then spluttered a laugh and nodded. “All right. It’s a date.”
I headcanon that, in moments of peace, Bob fidgets with his partner's hair, because he likes the feeling in his fingers😭😭
.- (🦇)
𝐇𝐂: 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑
bob reynolds x nb!reader
warnings: spoiler free :)
a/n: i highkey love writing headcanons bc they're so easy and quick to put together hehe gimme more y'all
Bob is a huge fidgeter
With his attention span being so short and his own thoughts simply being loud in his head, he almost always needs something to occupy him
Before he met you, he’d pick at the skin around his fingers or bite his nails
He wanted to break the habit but he found himself doing it without even realizing
Then when you came along he found himself more at ease
He was able to finally break the habit by touching you instead
It started out when he would read a book and with your head on his lap he’d run his fingers through your hair
As his nails grew back and the biting almost entirely ceased, the feeling of his nails gently scratching your scalp brought you both comfort
His fidgeting with your hair progressed as time went on
Bob never used to attend team meetings because he could never participate in being a superhero but he changed his mind after you showed up
He wanted to stay up to date on what was happening and lend his support to you however he could
When you’d get stressed trying to come up with a plan, his hand would snake up the back of your neck and settle at your hair line, his fingers scratching and massaging your scalp there
Sometimes you’d catch him biting his nails so you’d take his fingers in your own and his free hand would come up to your face
He’d push your hair behind your ear, then pull it loose again just so he could feel the softness as he rid it from your eyes one last time
His favourite thing was when you’d come back from a long mission and lay in bed
Bob would bring you in close to him and stroke your hair until you fell asleep against his chest
On nights he couldn’t sleep he’d turn over and brush the hair from your face so he could see your features properly
When you were out somewhere and he noticed your hair getting tangled, he’d gently run his fingers through, detangling the small or big knots he found
He loved when you let him brush your hair
You even taught him how to braid and sometimes when you were on the couch with the team watching a movie or in bed after a long day, you’d find him absentmindedly braiding it
𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇
avengers au!joaquin torres x female!toxikensis!reader
synopsis: y/n and joaquin have to keep their relationship hidden due to the avenger’s unspoken rule. meanwhile, joaquin shows y/n she is more than her trauma.
request: yes
warnings: hints at murder, trust issues, happy ending
wc: 3.2k
a/n: i never said i was good at endings y'all 😫. also if anyone has any tips for tmj pain let me know bc im bouta go ape shit
There was no written rule for “no sexual relations among teammates”, however, it was heavily implied. After Natasha and Bruce’s relationship crashed and burned, rumours of teammates possibly hooking up or even liking each other seemed to set everyone on edge. It was too much of a risk, one person favouring another’s safety during missions or getting distracted. The only exception was for Vision and Wanda, who the team did not exactly count as committing a crime because Vision lacked human error.
As someone who was closed off, Y/N had never thought much of the rule. She’d conditioned herself to keep a distance from people, even after learning to tame her poison abilities. She was so used to burning someone’s skin by simply touching them or poison someone by sharing a drink that the idea of being able to return to some of her previous indulgences was discomforting. However, with Joaquin’s arrival, that rule suddenly flashed before her eyes like an obnoxious billboard.
Joaquin was speechless when he first met Y/N. He’d seen her in the media but in person, she took his breath away. When he’d tried to shake her hand, she stared at it for a moment before returning the formality. As their skin touched, she looked him in the eye and offered him a small smile. She was quiet, but he could almost see the gears turning as though she had come up with a particularly smart response in her head. He could tell that despite the cold exterior, she was all fire within.
The first time Joaquin went to the gym to train with his new teammates, Y/N was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked Sam.
“She doesn’t like to train with us,” he answered.
“She has her own space down the hall,” Natasha pointed over her shoulder. “Something to do with not wanting to hurt anyone.”
The room Y/N trained in was similar in size to a shipping container. The longest walls were made of glass but the shorter were of cement. He watched her from the other side of the glass, fighting off Tony’s training drones and dummies. As she raised her hands, thick neon-green liquid rose to her fingertips and sprayed out at the training dummy. She took down three others by blowing a cloud of yellow, billowing gas at them. Joaquin clapped, causing her to look around with furrowed brows. She went over to a high-tech panel a few feet from him and when she tapped a few buttons, her eyes widened as they caught his.
He raised a friendly hand with an abashed smile, “Sorry.”
Y/N only assessed him, then turned back to her work.
Joaquin proceeded took the long route to the gym every morning. His new path allowed him to walk past her training room and the more he passed by, the more sure he was sure she’d stopped using the two-way glass feature. One time, he caught her as she was exiting.
“You’re late,” she commented.
It was so rare to hear her speak that he savoured every syllable.
She was right, though. He was very late to training that morning.
“Yeah, I was on the phone with my mom,” he sighed. “I love her but sometimes I feel like she’ll never let me go.”
Y/N cracked an almost imperceptible smile and nodded.
“How come you practice alone?” he asked.
Her eyes roved over him, detailing his appearance for the morning. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news.”
“Don’t believe everything you see online.”
Y/N’s snort brought a smile to his face. It was like an achievement, making her laugh. To others it was nothing, but to him it felt like everything.
“It’s safer this way,” she glanced back at the darkened room.
“But you’ve learned to control your powers, right?”
Her head cocked and she peered at the ground. “I’ve been meaning to tell you…” She hesitated, “Thank you for shaking my hand.”
Joaquin’s brows furrowed. What an odd thing to thank him for.
“It’s only the polite thing,” he replied.
Y/N looked from one of his eyes to the other. He couldn’t tell if she was studying him or judging him. He felt like he was missing something. Without another word, she walked away.
Another morning, Joaquin knocked on the glass and waved her over. She stuck her head out the crystal door, waiting for him to speak.
“Hi,” he smiled with a sigh. “Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to get some food sometime? Not—not as a date, just… just to get to know my teammate. I think you’re really cool and—”
“I don’t eat out,” she interjected his rambling.
“Why not?”
Her lips flattened into a line and she pushed her sweaty baby hairs from her forehead. “It’s not safe. I’m like a virus. I could kill someone by them touching my fork.”
“You touched me and I’m still here. See?” He held up the hand she shook.
Y/N sighed and pulled the door closed. Joaquin jammed his foot between it before it could fully close and grabbed the door.
“Let me cook for you,” he offered.
“That’s—”
“I can buy disposable dishes or you can wash them yourself,” he spoke quickly. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”
The look in his eyes was desperate and she almost felt bad saying no. She looked him over again, then nodded.
That had started it all. Y/N had spoke more than she had in a long time. As time went on, he would catch her in the halls and make conversation. He even managed to make her fully smile.
One late night, Joaquin found her sitting on the edge of the koi pond in the lobby, a ceramic bowl in one hand. He hadn’t seen her in anything other than workout clothing or their suits. A smile graced her lips as she dropped food into the pond. He’d never seen her so relaxed.
“Doesn’t Stark have someone doing that for him?”
Her head whipped to meet his gaze.
Joaquin cringed, “Sorry.”
Y/N returned to her fish, dropping a small piece of orange into the pond. The fish leapt at the food, splashing water on her sweats, but she didn’t seem to mind. “He does,” she replied to his inquiry. “When she’s on vacation I do it for her.”
“At one in the morning?”
She eyed him, “You’re one to talk.”
Joaquin chuckled at her quip. “Do you mind?”
At a shake of her head, he sat himself beside her. He watched her take another piece of orange and hold it out to him. Her fingers brushed his skin as she set the wet fruit in his palm and he wanted to say he was proud of her but was afraid it might scare her off.
“Did you know,” she began, grabbing some orange, “koi can recognize people?”
Joaquin watched her put her hand in the water and four fish fought for the food in her hand. He couldn’t look away from her satisfied smile. It made him feel giddy, like a school boy with a crush again. She made him feel things he hadn’t in a long time.
“Go on.”
Joaquin did a double take as he realized from her words that he had been staring. Instead of her usual blank expression she offered him, a small smile was tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Do I just… drop it in?” he asked, angling his hand over the water.
Y/N nodded encouragingly.
Joaquin let go of the fruit and a laugh left his lips as they dove for it. This time, it was Y/N’s turn to be caught staring. They both couldn’t seem to look away. Caught up in the moment, Joaquin reached for her free hand. His breathing picked up as she didn’t pull away from his touch. Her skin was warm, just as he’d imagined. He ran his thumb gently over her knuckles. A smile twitched across her lips and when it fully appeared, his world felt a little brighter.
“You’re beautiful,” he found himself saying.
Y/N looked to the wall of windows, out to the hanger across the property. The light of the moon and the glow of the lamplights illuminated her face. She came back to him, peering at their hands. Y/N raised her hand and he thought for a moment she was going to push him away, but she didn’t. Joaquin could only watch as she raised his palm to her cheek. His fingers were covered in the juice from the orange but she didn’t seem to care. As he ran his thumb under her eye, she closed her eyes.
“When I first came here,” she began, “no one shook my hand. They weren’t trying to be rude, I know that, but they knew what I was. They were afraid, even if they didn’t want to admit it.”
Joaquin almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he also wasn’t surprised. She’d joined the Avengers years before him and if he guessed correctly, the articles that came out about her accidentally killing people because of her powers were still fresh on people’s minds. The only difference between Joaquin and the rest of the team was that by the time he joined, people with superpowers were normalized and rarely went about the world terrorizing others on purpose. Joaquin knew there was no way Steve Rogers would have agreed to have her on the team if she was a danger.
After that night at the koi pond, things began as innocent brushes, small conversations while their teammates were around, shooting a glance to each other across tables.
Y/N had kissed him first. He wanted to give her the control—only advance things when she was comfortable. The more she’d pull him into empty hallways and kissed him before running off again, the more comfortable he was with waiting for her. Joaquin was addicted to her and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.
After a while, he suggested she try using the same gym as them. The day she’d walked in, almost all eyes were on her. Joaquin had caught her rigid shoulders and took advantage of Sam’s distraction, slamming him to the mat with a loud smack. The entire room looked to Joaquin standing over Sam. Bucky’s laugh echoed from his spot on the bench.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” Sam exclaimed.
“Never let your guard down, Sam,” Natasha smirked. “Good one Joaquin.”
“No, man, get away from me,” Captain America smacked Joaquin’s offered hand.
He laughed, teasing him, “Don’t be such a sore loser, Cap.”
“Listen, I’ll get you back,” he pointed as he went for his water bottle.
Joaquin took the momentary breather to find Y/N again. She was wrapping her hands, preparing to use the punching bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at him and nodded her thanks.
Joaquin made sure to distract them any time she entered the gym and eventually, he didn’t have to anymore. The team could see she was getting more comfortable and yet no one seemed to question her sudden change in attitude. Natasha began to spar with Y/N, helping perfect her moves and teach her new ones. Joaquin was proud as he watched her day after day grow closer with their team. He was happy seeing her be herself, understanding that she wasn’t defined by her past.
After months of hiding their relationship, Joaquin strode into the kitchen late at night. Natasha was leaning back against the counter, spooning yoghurt into her mouth.
“You looking forward to tomorrow?” he asked.
Tony was hosting his annual Stark Expo and the Avengers attendance was mandatory.
“Not really,” she mumbled. “I’ll probably show up an hour before it ends. Then Tony can’t say I didn’t show.”
Joaquin chuckled as he grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl. “That’s smart.”
Natasha watched as he got out a cutting board, knife, and bowl.
“You gonna bring anyone?” she asked.
“Why? Wanna be my date?”
Natasha cringed, but a laugh escaped her. “You’re a little too young for my taste, kid. Besides, I don’t think it’d be appropriate.”
“Because of the no-dating-teammates rule?” he cut the orange into small pieces.
Natasha was quiet as she scraped the last of the yoghurt from the cup. Joaquin glanced up to find a small smile on her lips.
“You going to feed the fish?” she asked.
“Uh…” he looked down at the sticky mess on the counter, “yeah.”
“Sometimes thing echo around here, you know?” Natasha smirked. “Walls are made of glass. Lots of open space in the lobby.”
Joaquin continued to cut up the orange. “Yeah.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody.”
“Won’t tell anyone what?” he chuckled, feigning confusion.
Natasha threw out her yoghurt cup and put the spoon in the dishwasher.
“You’re a good liar, Captain,” she said as she made her way back to the hall. “It takes one to know one.”
Natasha disappeared toward the bedrooms with a wink, leaving him alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.
The next night, Joaquin was dressed in his best suit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Y/N in her outfit. She was the definition of beautiful. There were a few times he was sure his teammates had caught him admiring her.
Thor suddenly clapped a tipsy hand on Joaquin’s shoulder. The Falcon bent slightly at the knees from the weight of his grip.
“You’re a good man, Captain Falcon,” the god slurred a little. “You deserve a good woman. Y/N seems good, too.”
Joaquin had laughed awkwardly, trying his best to come up with a way out of the situation. “Thanks, man.”
“You should ask her out,” Thor encouraged.
“I don’t know…”
“What? Are you scared? Never be afraid, little man,” he squeezed a little harder with a good shake and Joaquin had to fight back a groan from the throbbing of his shoulder blade. “You need not be afraid of women. Or men. Whichever you prefer. You know, my brother is—”
“I don’t think that’d be fair to everyone,” Joaquin quickly replied. “I wouldn’t want to make things awkward.”
“You’re a good man,” Thor tapped him a little too hard on the cheek. “I’m sure no one would mind.”
Joaquin searched for Y/N in the sea of people as Thor walked away. He didn’t care if people noticed him staring. Maybe Thor was right. If they kept it professional around their teammates as they already had, there would be no harm. Besides, if Vision and Wanda could move out and build a family together, why couldn’t he and Y/N have a life of their own, too?
That night, when their formal clothes were on the floor and Y/N lay against his chest, Joaquin spoke into the dark, “I think we should tell them.”
Y/N lifted her head, looking at him through the golden lamp light, “What?”
“Natasha knows,” he admitted. “And Thor—”
“Don’t tell me he does, too,” she sat up. “He can’t keep a secret, Joaquin. If he knows, everyone does.”
“Y/N,” he cradled her face in his hands. “He doesn’t know.”
She sighed, but her lips remained in a flat line.
“Thor suggested I ask you out. I told him it wouldn’t be fair to the team but he said he didn’t think they’d mind.”
“And you agree.”
Joaquin brushed his thumb under her eye, “Y/N, I love you and I want everyone to know. We’ve already done great at hiding it so it shouldn’t be difficult to continue keeping it professional once it’s out there.”
“When we put it out there, they will make assumptions,” she argued. “They will disregard how everything’s been in the past and they’ll think we can’t handle working together.”
He knew her words were coming from a place of anxiety and he didn’t wish to push her, only to reassure. She was good at listening and considering opinions, even if she didn’t agree at the time.
“These people aren’t just our teammates,” he said carefully. “They’re our family. Natasha and Bruce broke up, but they’re still cordial. They don’t make it uncomfortable for us because they are professionals and we are all there for each other. Most of these people don’t have anyone outside the compound they can call family.”
Joaquin never brought it up again after that night. He would let her think about it for as long as she wanted.
After a couple of days, Y/N decided she didn’t want to be cold anymore. She realized that she’d been using her trust issues as an excuse and a deluded explanation for why she didn’t deserve happiness. Joaquin and Thor were right, they wouldn’t care because they trusted each other.
She’d kept herself locked away for too long. She’d been scared of how people would perceive her for too long. Joaquin had proved to her that she was worthy of love; that she was perfect the way she was. It wasn’t fair to him to keep them hiding any longer, but it especially wasn’t fair to herself. She deserved to be something more than the water that had devoured her all those years ago. It may have ate at her blood and altered her brain, but her heart was still hers.
She deserved love.
The team sat in the common area eating take out together. Joaquin stood at the counter with Sam and Bucky when he caught sight of Y/N entering from the hallway. She stopped in the archway and looked at him before eyeing the rest of their teammates. The room went quiet as they took notice of her clear need to say something.
“Joaquin and I are dating.”
The room erupted in voices. Joaquin flinched at the sudden noise, almost choking on a piece of broccoli. Sam looked to him with wide, excited eyes.
“I knew it!” he exclaimed. “I told you!” he looked to Bucky, who smiled into his food with a shake of his head.
“I would like everyone to know this was my doing,” Thor raised a hand. “I set this up.”
“No, you did not,” Pietro laughed.
“I did!” the god insisted. “I suggested he ask her out.”
“How long have you been dating?” Wanda asked the couple over her shoulder.
Joaquin looked to Y/N, who stared at him like a deer in headlights. She couldn’t speak even if she wanted to.
“Almost a year,” Joaquin said.
“Yo, what the hell, man?” Sam back-handed him in the chest.
From the couch, Rhodey whistled.
“I thought we were close,” Sam continued teasingly.
“I can’t believe you two have been doing it under my roof for almost a year and I didn’t know,” Tony quipped, face serious.
“God, Tony,” Natasha chastised.
“Tony, really?” Rhodey reached over to Peter, clamping his hands over his ears. “There are children present.”
“I’m twenty-five!” Peter exclaimed, pushing his hands away.
Joaquin’s smile at Y/N from across the room seemed to shake her from her thoughts. She broke the distance and he slid an arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the excitement of the room.
“I only have one rule,” Tony said, catching everyone’s attention. “No kids under my roof. I don’t need any of those around here, especially ones shooting poison darts at me while I try to enjoy my breakfast.”
Joaquin laughed and gazed down at Y/N who hid against his chest. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she squeezed him reassuringly.
𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑
joaquin torres x fem!military!reader
synposis: y/n and joaquin are reunited years after breaking off their engagement for a mission requiring her set of skills.
request: yes
warnings: brief descriptions of gore, angst (happy ending, dw), use of the word s*icide once
wc: 3k
a/n: was gonna make this into two parts but after editing i decided not to! i apologize if things feel rushed i honestly was fighting for my life trying to come up with a plot 😃 i hope you enjoy jen <3
“What do you got for me, kid?”
“We’re gonna need backup,” Joaquin sighed, pushing the end of his pen into his temple until it clicked.
“What do you mean ‘we’re gonna need backup’?”
Joaquin sat back in his swivel chair, adjusting his phone against his ear. “The base’s security systems are too advanced. I haven’t seen anything like this before. Look, I know someone from high school who could crack this sort of thing.”
“Oh, no,” Sam laughed incredulously. “No, no. We’re not letting any of your buddies in on a top-secret mission,”
“She’s not a buddy!” Joaquin hesitated, eyeing the multitude of screens before him. “She’s, uh…”
“She’s your ex, isn’t she?”
Joaquin shot forward, nearly banging his elbow on the desk, “Maybe, but that’s beside the point.” He heard Sam’s loud laugh on the other end and cringed inwardly. “Look, she’s military. She’s DIA—”
“You’re talking about enemy territory here, Joaquin.”
“I know, I know, just… just trust me, okay? She might work for the government but she’s never really ‘worked for the government’.”
“Yeah, I know those kinds,” said Sam. “So why’d you break up?”
Joaquin searched the small room for some sort of way out.
“She broke up with you, didn’t she?”
“Hey, why do you just assume she broke up with me? Am I not capable of breaking up with someone?”
“You’re getting defensive, Joaquin,” Sam’s loud laugh echoed across the line. “And what makes you think she’d wanna talk to your ass?”
“Well, she won’t but she’d like to talk to Captain America’s.”
“Oh, no, don’t you go dragging me in the middle of whatever happened between you two—”
“I’m not! I’m not. I swear,” he defended. “She always liked Black Widow and—and Anonymous. Natasha Romanoff was basically her idol. She’s likely seen that you have your own agenda despite the shield so she’d listen to you more than me.”
Joaquin bit into his pen as he listened to the silence from Sam’s end.
“Fine. We’re to meet her in person, though. Keep it light.”
“You got it, Cap.”
Joaquin ended the call and pulled up his contacts. He typed in her name and stared at the profile, his thumb hovering over the phone button as anxiety roiled his gut. It had been years since they’d last spoken and the thought of breaking their no-contact felt like breaking a sanctioned rule. If he called her and she picked up, what did that mean?
It meant nothing.
“Hi.”
Y/N said it like a question, but he could hear that she also had an inkling as to who it could be. She deleted his number from her phone, he guessed, or maybe changed his contact name. Joaquin realized he hadn’t said anything when she said his name, this time without assumption in her tone.
“Hi,” he said like the word was beaten out of him. “Uh, hi. Y/N. Um…”
“Are you drunk again?”
“Uh, no,” he scratched the back of his head a little too hard. “No, I am not drunk this time. Uh…”
He heard a creak from her end of the line that he recognized a little too well. She still had her old office chair. Joaquin imagined her sitting back in it, the chair leaning back from her weight.
“I need to ask a favour—”
“Right,” she chuckled incredulously.
He was losing her again.
“No, no. I’m sorry. Look, I’m sorry. God,” he dropped his forehead to the desk with a thump. “Uh, Captain America needs a favour.”
“Captain America?” she said, feigning excitement. “I didn’t know you were a superhero.”
“Yeah, I’m, uh, the new falcon,” he said proudly to the underside of his desk.
“I know, Joaquin.”
“Yes, you do. Right,” he dropped his head against the wood again.
“If Captain America needs my help, why isn’t he contacting me directly?”
“Because,” he drawled, fighting to think of an explanation. “Because I am his guy in the chair and I recommended you to him.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question—”
“Look, Y/N, I know things are… weird between us but I wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t important. Please.”
The chair creaked again and he heard footsteps. She was pacing.
“I can’t talk about it while we’re on record so please, just… whatever works for you, Cap and I will meet you in person.”
He could hear her breathing. He could see her pacing in her room, fingernail between her teeth as she thought. He heard tapping, then his phone vibrated.
“Check your messages.”
The line went quiet and he pulled his phone from his ear to see she’d ended the call.
From a random number, he read: Benjamin Grenup Monument. Tomorrow, 10am.
The next morning, Joaquin and Sam made their way through a cemetery.
“Judging by the fact that we’re fifteen minutes early,” said Sam, “I’d assume you’re a little excited.”
“I’m not excited.”
He was a little excited.
“Then why do you look like you’re about to jump out of your pants?”
Joaquin’s head whipped to him, his eyes narrowed. “Why would you word it like that?”
They stopped before the monument, the graveyard empty save for a young man at a grave a couple yards away.
“Well how else am I meant to word it?” Sam asked, raising his chin. “You look like you have ants in your pants.”
“See, you could have just said that. Instead you had to make it weird—”
“You’re early.”
Y/N walked up to them with her hands in her vest pockets, zipper up to her chin to ward off the cool wind. She exposed a bare hand to rid the hair from her eyes.
“You must be Y/N,” Sam stepped forward.
“And you’re Captain America,” she shook his hand, a small smile on her lips.
Should he shake her hand? No, that’s too formal. Should he wave? No, that’s weird.
“Hi,” he croaked.
Sam’s head slowly spun around, the word “dude” stamped across his expression.
“Is someone gonna tell me why I’m here?” she asked.
It had been almost six years since he last saw her and yet she still looked the same. His heart ached at the sight of her.
“Uh…” he fumbled.
“First,” Sam saved him, “I want to know why this kid thinks so highly of you.”
Y/N glanced at Joaquin, “I’d like to know that, too.”
Joaquin cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N was top of our class in high school. Joined the army right out of graduation, became a sergeant, was then recruited by INSCOM.”
“Why INSCOM?” Sam asked curiously.
“I’m really good at coding,” she answered with a nod, eyes wide in emphasis. “I also solved a couple of cold cases. Turns out recruiters turn a blind eye to legality when it comes to uncovering terrorists.”
“That’s not all,” Joaquin interjected, closing the distance between them.
Y/N stared at him. To Sam, her gaze was blank, but to Joaquin it was a warning.
“What’s…” Sam looked between them, “I feel like I’m interrupting something.”
Y/N’s leg bounced and her eyes narrowed. Joaquin nodded in reassurance.
“When the Blip happened,” she began, “life insurance skyrocketed, payments wouldn’t go out. They said because there was no body, no evidence, they wouldn’t pay. Suicide reached a record-breaking peak around the world in all of recorded history; homelessness, violence, and crime included.”
“So you lended a hand,” said Sam.
Y/N smiled, but there was no joy behind it. “I did.”
“I’m assuming your employers don’t know.”
“No,” she shook her head. “It wasn’t just me, anyway. I know some who made millions, but I didn’t want a pay off. It wasn’t fair that I sat back with my talents and didn’t use them in a time of need. I helped families off the streets, paid for spots in retirement homes…”
“So what have you been doing since everyone came back?”
Y/N looked around, her tongue darting out to her bottom lip. The young man from earlier had left, leaving just them.
“Iron Man did more harm than good when he brought everyone back,” she said. “My parents were on a plane to Hawaii when they were snapped.”
Joaquin’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. He hadn’t known. How could he? Maybe he should’ve reached out when the Blip happened. Another regret to add to the list.
“I went through it all over again,” she continued. “What was left of us were doing triple the work, if not more, for less pay. I lost my apartment; I had to get roommates again. But the insurance companies saved a buck so it really wasn’t all that bad, right?”
“I didn’t know,” Joaquin said.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” said Sam.
She shook her watch out from under her sleeve. “Now that I’ve told you my life story, it’s your turn. You’re running out of time here.”
“There’s this terrorist organization we’ve been tasked of uncovering,” Joaquin explained. “We found their base but it’s protected by some sort of electromagnetic field connected to a coded security system. We need you to come with us to the facility. If you get close enough, you’ll be able to hook up to the servers and find your way through. We’ll provide you with a weapon in case it gets messy.”
Y/N looked back and forth between them. “What do you think I am, some kind of Avenger? I haven’t been out in the field in years. I do everything at a desk.”
Joaquin glanced to Sam. “No?”
“That’s right. Good luck, guys. Bye, Joa—”
“I fucked up.” Joaquin’s words made her freeze. He stared at her back in desperation. “I—I’m aware of that. I don’t deserve your help, but Sam does. Don’t say no just because I’m involved. You do this for Sam and I’ll block your number. I’ll move states, if you want me to. You’ll never have to hear from me again.”
“Damn, Joaquin, what’d you do, man?” Sam whispered.
Y/N turned on her heel. “He wouldn’t stop doing stupid shit,” she answered. “I was tired of fearing for my fiancé’s life.”
Sam stared down Joaquin with wide, shocked eyes.
Joaquin prayed to every god known to man that Y/N would hear him out. She was thinking hard—he could tell by the way she tucked her mouth behind the neck of her vest. Her eyes roved the ground a moment before she looked up again.
“Fine,” she said to Sam. Her eyes caught Joaquin’s, the first time in years she properly looked him in the eye. “You owe me. Big time.”
***
A couple days later, Joaquin, Sam, and Y/N met in the tree line surrounding an abandoned warehouse.
“You should see an energy shield around the building,” Sam said through the coms, circling the perimeter of the tree line in the sky.
“Roger,” Y/N typed away on her computer.
Joaquin watched the warehouse beside her, hands on his hips as he observed any signs of activity.
“They have an alarm system attached to it,” she informed. “You’ll have thirty seconds to get in before it guards all entry again.”
“All right, it’s just a quick in and out, Joaquin,” said Sam. “Incapacitate the soldiers, the authorities will do the rest.”
“Got it,” Joaquin replied. “Go ahead,” he nodded to Y/N.
He watched as she continued working on the computer. It felt like they were back in high school. Whenever he couldn’t find her, he’d go to the library. She was always sat at a table surrounded by books or before a computer, chin in her hand as she focused on the screen.
“Y/N,” he found himself saying.
“What?” she didn’t take her eyes off the device.
“I’m sorry.”
Her head cocked, “I’m sure you are.”
“I mean it, Y/N. I really am sorry.” She glanced at him and he took it as an invitation to continue. “I wish I could have been there for you during the Blip. It wasn’t fair you had to go through that alone. It isn’t fair you’re still going through it alone.”
Y/N looked him up and down, eyeing his Falcon suit. “If you make it out of this alive, there’s this new food truck near my old apartment. We can talk about it all, then.”
A smile brightened Joaquin’s face. “That sounds good.”
“But no stupid shit, Joaquin,” she pointed at him warningly like she had so many times before. “No showing off. I know you’re a superhero now but I will make you move countries if you act like you’re invincible.”
“Yep. Got it. No stupid shit,” he said quickly, clapping his hands together once.
“All right, boys, you’ve got thirty seconds in five… fo—”
Joaquin darted from the trees, staying low as he approached.
Three… two… one.
“Grid is down,” said Y/N.
Silence, then a crash as Sam shattered through the skylight. Joaquin kicked the door in, stepping into the chaos of the armed men inside. Within a couple of minutes, they had them restrained and disarmed. As Joaquin was checking pulses, sirens signalling the arrival of authorities rang out.
“Oh, shit—” From Y/N’s end of the line, two gunshots went off, echoing up the slight slope to the warehouse.
“Y/N, you all right?” Joaquin asked.
A wave of heat came over his limbs as pure adrenaline took over him.
“Sergeant Y/LN, come in,” Sam pressed his finger to his com.
Another round of shots went off and Joaquin booked it. He shoved past men in full armour as they made their way into the building. The grass, still slippery from the morning dew, caused him to slide and he tripped into the trees. A man in a ghillie suit lay dead, half his face blown off and his suit soaked with blood around his throat.
Heavy breathing and a whine of pain caught Joaquin’s attention. Y/N lay beside her dropped laptop, the screen shattered with a bullet hole through the middle. Dark, red blood spilled from her stomach.
“Shit,” Joaquin dropped to his knees hard on the sticks and leaves. He shouted and screamed for help, putting enough pressure on the wound to possibly break a rib.
“I don’t wanna die,” Y/N cried, gripping his suit like he was the only thing anchoring her to the earth. “I don’t wanna die. Don’t let me die, Joaquin.”
“I’ve got you, Y/N, you’re going to be fine,” he said as tears sprung to his eyes.
“I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go.”
For the first time, Joaquin realized exactly how Y/N felt anytime he came home with bruises or scrapes. He used to only be able to imagine what she felt when she got a call he’d been injured on the field. He knew, now, how horrible it felt. It was like ice weaving through his veins yet it made his heart feel on fire. He was sure there was a fire starting in his lungs.
Medics rushed toward them, convincing him to move aside so they could start their work.
“Don’t let me go,” she panicked, gripping his hand.
“I won’t,” he trembled, squeezing her back. “I won’t, I promise.”
The only time Joaquin let go of her hand was so they could put her on the stretcher. In the ambulance, she fought for consciousness. Despite his pleading and coaxing, she closed her eyes. It was hours in the uncomfortable waiting room chair before the surgeon spoke to him. He’d handed over his information and when the receptionist declined his request to cover her expenses because he was merely considered intelligence, not an active-duty Captain, Sam talked his way into covering it.
Joaquin remained by her side in the hospital room until she woke up.
“Hey,” he said softly, reaching for her hand.
Joaquin instinctively reached for her face with his free one. He’d brushed hair out of her eyes so many times that it’d become a habit to just caress the skin at her temple. Years later and it was still with him.
“What happened?” she croaked.
“Um, you had some internal bleeding,” he explained, clearing his throat as tears burned the back of his eyes. “They got the bullet out but you’ve been out a little while. You should be discharged tomorrow.”
“I can’t afford this, Joaquin,” she tried to push herself up. “I can’t pay—”
“No, Y/N—” Joaquin pushed her gently back down. He squeezed her hand, running the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s all right. You don’t have to pay for anything.”
Her eyes bounced back and forth between his. “Don’t tell me you paid.”
“Sam handled it. As you said,” he sniffed, “I owed you.”
She sighed, gazing down at their hands.
“Y/N, you could’ve died,” Joaquin breathed.
“Well, now you know how it felt.”
It was like a knife to the chest.
“I did—I do.” He shook his head, a tear trailing down his cheek. “I can’t say how sorry I am. I… I never wanted to hurt you. I loved you… so much. I still love you.”
Y/N sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand under her eyes.
“I understand if you don’t,” he continued, “but if you’re willing to try again, I’ll put down the wings. I’ll stop. I’ll find a different career. Anything you want.”
“Joaquin.” Y/N lifted her free hand to place it on top of his. “I would never ask you to give up your dreams. I’ve only ever wanted you to remember that I needed you, too. I need you. Do you understand that?”
Joaquin nodded stiffly, bringing her fingers to his lips. She cupped his cheek and his eyes closed as he leaned into her touch. He entwined his fingers with hers over the back of her hand and kissed her palm.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he mumbled against her skin.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she replied through silent tears.
“I’m assuming this means we’re still on for the food truck?”
Y/N laughed and it brought a smile to Joaquin’s face. The air between them felt lighter and it almost made him want to cry more.
“Yes, we’re still on for the food truck.”
𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑
joaquin torres x fem!military!reader
synposis: y/n and joaquin are reunited years after breaking off their engagement for a mission requiring her set of skills.
request: yes
warnings: brief descriptions of gore, angst (happy ending, dw)
wc: 3k
a/n: was gonna make this into two parts but after editing i decided not to! i apologize if things feel rushed i honestly was fighting for my life trying to come up with a plot 😃 i hope you enjoy jen <3
“What do you got for me, kid?”
“We’re gonna need backup,” Joaquin sighed, pushing the end of his pen into his temple until it clicked.
“What do you mean ‘we’re gonna need backup’?”
Joaquin sat back in his swivel chair, adjusting his phone against his ear. “The base’s security systems are too advanced. I haven’t seen anything like this before. Look, I know someone from high school who could crack this sort of thing.”
“Oh, no,” Sam laughed incredulously. “No, no. We’re not letting any of your buddies in on a top-secret mission,”
“She’s not a buddy!” Joaquin hesitated, eyeing the multitude of screens before him. “She’s, uh…”
“She’s your ex, isn’t she?”
Joaquin shot forward, nearly banging his elbow on the desk, “Maybe, but that’s beside the point.” He heard Sam’s loud laugh on the other end and cringed inwardly. “Look, she’s military. She’s DIA—”
“You’re talking about enemy territory here, Joaquin.”
“I know, I know, just… just trust me, okay? She might work for the government but she’s never really ‘worked for the government’.”
“Yeah, I know those kinds,” said Sam. “So why’d you break up?”
Joaquin searched the small room for some sort of way out.
“She broke up with you, didn’t she?”
“Hey, why do you just assume she broke up with me? Am I not capable of breaking up with someone?”
“You’re getting defensive, Joaquin,” Sam’s loud laugh echoed across the line. “And what makes you think she’d wanna talk to your ass?”
“Well, she won’t but she’d like to talk to Captain America’s.”
“Oh, no, don’t you go dragging me in the middle of whatever happened between you two—”
“I’m not! I’m not. I swear,” he defended. “She always liked Black Widow and—and Anonymous. Natasha Romanoff was basically her idol. She’s likely seen that you have your own agenda despite the shield so she’d listen to you more than me.”
Joaquin bit into his pen as he listened to the silence from Sam’s end.
“Fine. We’re to meet her in person, though. Keep it light.”
“You got it, Cap.”
Joaquin ended the call and pulled up his contacts. He typed in her name and stared at the profile, his thumb hovering over the phone button as anxiety roiled his gut. It had been years since they’d last spoken and the thought of breaking their no-contact felt like breaking a sanctioned rule. If he called her and she picked up, what did that mean?
It meant nothing.
“Hi.”
Y/N said it like a question, but he could hear that she also had an inkling as to who it could be. She deleted his number from her phone, he guessed, or maybe changed his contact name. Joaquin realized he hadn’t said anything when she said his name, this time without assumption in her tone.
“Hi,” he said like the word was beaten out of him. “Uh, hi. Y/N. Um…”
“Are you drunk again?”
“Uh, no,” he scratched the back of his head a little too hard. “No, I am not drunk this time. Uh…”
He heard a creak from her end of the line that he recognized a little too well. She still had her old office chair. Joaquin imagined her sitting back in it, the chair leaning back from her weight.
“I need to ask a favour—”
“Right,” she chuckled incredulously.
He was losing her again.
“No, no. I’m sorry. Look, I’m sorry. God,” he dropped his forehead to the desk with a thump. “Uh, Captain America needs a favour.”
“Captain America?” she said, feigning excitement. “I didn’t know you were a superhero.”
“Yeah, I’m, uh, the new falcon,” he said proudly to the underside of his desk.
“I know, Joaquin.”
“Yes, you do. Right,” he dropped his head against the wood again.
“If Captain America needs my help, why isn’t he contacting me directly?”
“Because,” he drawled, fighting to think of an explanation. “Because I am his guy in the chair and I recommended you to him.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question—”
“Look, Y/N, I know things are… weird between us but I wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t important. Please.”
The chair creaked again and he heard footsteps. She was pacing.
“I can’t talk about it while we’re on record so please, just… whatever works for you, Cap and I will meet you in person.”
He could hear her breathing. He could see her pacing in her room, fingernail between her teeth as she thought. He heard tapping, then his phone vibrated.
“Check your messages.”
The line went quiet and he pulled his phone from his ear to see she’d ended the call.
From a random number, he read: Benjamin Grenup Monument. Tomorrow, 10am.
The next morning, Joaquin and Sam made their way through a cemetery.
“Judging by the fact that we’re fifteen minutes early,” said Sam, “I’d assume you’re a little excited.”
“I’m not excited.”
He was a little excited.
“Then why do you look like you’re about to jump out of your pants?”
Joaquin’s head whipped to him, his eyes narrowed. “Why would you word it like that?”
They stopped before the monument, the graveyard empty save for a young man at a grave a couple yards away.
“Well how else am I meant to word it?” Sam asked, raising his chin. “You look like you have ants in your pants.”
“See, you could have just said that. Instead you had to make it weird—”
“You’re early.”
Y/N walked up to them with her hands in her vest pockets, zipper up to her chin to ward off the cool wind. She exposed a bare hand to rid the hair from her eyes.
“You must be Y/N,” Sam stepped forward.
“And you’re Captain America,” she shook his hand, a small smile on her lips.
Should he shake her hand? No, that’s too formal. Should he wave? No, that’s weird.
“Hi,” he croaked.
Sam’s head slowly spun around, the word “dude” stamped across his expression.
“Is someone gonna tell me why I’m here?” she asked.
It had been almost six years since he last saw her and yet she still looked the same. His heart ached at the sight of her.
“Uh…” he fumbled.
“First,” Sam saved him, “I want to know why this kid thinks so highly of you.”
Y/N glanced at Joaquin, “I’d like to know that, too.”
Joaquin cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N was top of our class in high school. Joined the army right out of graduation, became a sergeant, was then recruited by INSCOM.”
“Why INSCOM?” Sam asked curiously.
“I’m really good at coding,” she answered with a nod, eyes wide in emphasis. “I also solved a couple of cold cases. Turns out recruiters turn a blind eye to legality when it comes to uncovering terrorists.”
“That’s not all,” Joaquin interjected, closing the distance between them.
Y/N stared at him. To Sam, her gaze was blank, but to Joaquin it was a warning.
“What’s…” Sam looked between them, “I feel like I’m interrupting something.”
Y/N’s leg bounced and her eyes narrowed. Joaquin nodded in reassurance.
“When the Blip happened,” she began, “life insurance skyrocketed, payments wouldn’t go out. They said because there was no body, no evidence, they wouldn’t pay. Suicide reached a record-breaking peak around the world in all of recorded history; homelessness, violence, and crime included.”
“So you lended a hand,” said Sam.
Y/N smiled, but there was no joy behind it. “I did.”
“I’m assuming your employers don’t know.”
“No,” she shook her head. “It wasn’t just me, anyway. I know some who made millions, but I didn’t want a pay off. It wasn’t fair that I sat back with my talents and didn’t use them in a time of need. I helped families off the streets, paid for spots in retirement homes…”
“So what have you been doing since everyone came back?”
Y/N looked around, her tongue darting out to her bottom lip. The young man from earlier had left, leaving just them.
“Iron Man did more harm than good when he brought everyone back,” she said. “My parents were on a plane to Hawaii when they were snapped.”
Joaquin’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. He hadn’t known. How could he? Maybe he should’ve reached out when the Blip happened. Another regret to add to the list.
“I went through it all over again,” she continued. “What was left of us were doing triple the work, if not more, for less pay. I lost my apartment; I had to get roommates again. But the insurance companies saved a buck so it really wasn’t all that bad, right?”
“I didn’t know,” Joaquin said.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” said Sam.
She shook her watch out from under her sleeve. “Now that I’ve told you my life story, it’s your turn. You’re running out of time here.”
“There’s this terrorist organization we’ve been tasked of uncovering,” Joaquin explained. “We found their base but it’s protected by some sort of electromagnetic field connected to a coded security system. We need you to come with us to the facility. If you get close enough, you’ll be able to hook up to the servers and find your way through. We’ll provide you with a weapon in case it gets messy.”
Y/N looked back and forth between them. “What do you think I am, some kind of Avenger? I haven’t been out in the field in years. I do everything at a desk.”
Joaquin glanced to Sam. “No?”
“That’s right. Good luck, guys. Bye, Joa—”
“I fucked up.” Joaquin’s words made her freeze. He stared at her back in desperation. “I—I’m aware of that. I don’t deserve your help, but Sam does. Don’t say no just because I’m involved. You do this for Sam and I’ll block your number. I’ll move states, if you want me to. You’ll never have to hear from me again.”
“Damn, Joaquin, what’d you do, man?” Sam whispered.
Y/N turned on her heel. “He wouldn’t stop doing stupid shit,” she answered. “I was tired of fearing for my fiancé’s life.”
Sam stared down Joaquin with wide, shocked eyes.
Joaquin prayed to every god known to man that Y/N would hear him out. She was thinking hard—he could tell by the way she tucked her mouth behind the neck of her vest. Her eyes roved the ground a moment before she looked up again.
“Fine,” she said to Sam. Her eyes caught Joaquin’s, the first time in years she properly looked him in the eye. “You owe me. Big time.”
***
A couple days later, Joaquin, Sam, and Y/N met in the tree line surrounding an abandoned warehouse.
“You should see an energy shield around the building,” Sam said through the coms, circling the perimeter of the tree line in the sky.
“Roger,” Y/N typed away on her computer.
Joaquin watched the warehouse beside her, hands on his hips as he observed any signs of activity.
“They have an alarm system attached to it,” she informed. “You’ll have thirty seconds to get in before it guards all entry again.”
“All right, it’s just a quick in and out, Joaquin,” said Sam. “Incapacitate the soldiers, the authorities will do the rest.”
“Got it,” Joaquin replied. “Go ahead,” he nodded to Y/N.
He watched as she continued working on the computer. It felt like they were back in high school. Whenever he couldn’t find her, he’d go to the library. She was always sat at a table surrounded by books or before a computer, chin in her hand as she focused on the screen.
“Y/N,” he found himself saying.
“What?” she didn’t take her eyes off the device.
“I’m sorry.”
Her head cocked, “I’m sure you are.”
“I mean it, Y/N. I really am sorry.” She glanced at him and he took it as an invitation to continue. “I wish I could have been there for you during the Blip. It wasn’t fair you had to go through that alone. It isn’t fair you’re still going through it alone.”
Y/N looked him up and down, eyeing his Falcon suit. “If you make it out of this alive, there’s this new food truck near my old apartment. We can talk about it all, then.”
A smile brightened Joaquin’s face. “That sounds good.”
“But no stupid shit, Joaquin,” she pointed at him warningly like she had so many times before. “No showing off. I know you’re a superhero now but I will make you move countries if you act like you’re invincible.”
“Yep. Got it. No stupid shit,” he said quickly, clapping his hands together once.
“All right, boys, you’ve got thirty seconds in five… fo—”
Joaquin darted from the trees, staying low as he approached.
Three… two… one.
“Grid is down,” said Y/N.
Silence, then a crash as Sam shattered through the skylight. Joaquin kicked the door in, stepping into the chaos of the armed men inside. Within a couple of minutes, they had them restrained and disarmed. As Joaquin was checking pulses, sirens signalling the arrival of authorities rang out.
“Oh, shit—” From Y/N’s end of the line, two gunshots went off, echoing up the slight slope to the warehouse.
“Y/N, you all right?” Joaquin asked.
A wave of heat came over his limbs as pure adrenaline took over him.
“Sergeant Y/LN, come in,” Sam pressed his finger to his com.
Another round of shots went off and Joaquin booked it. He shoved past men in full armour as they made their way into the building. The grass, still slippery from the morning dew, caused him to slide and he tripped into the trees. A man in a ghillie suit lay dead, half his face blown off and his suit soaked with blood around his throat.
Heavy breathing and a whine of pain caught Joaquin’s attention. Y/N lay beside her dropped laptop, the screen shattered with a bullet hole through the middle. Dark, red blood spilled from her stomach.
“Shit,” Joaquin dropped to his knees hard on the sticks and leaves. He shouted and screamed for help, putting enough pressure on the wound to possibly break a rib.
“I don’t wanna die,” Y/N cried, gripping his suit like he was the only thing anchoring her to the earth. “I don’t wanna die. Don’t let me die, Joaquin.”
“I’ve got you, Y/N, you’re going to be fine,” he said as tears sprung to his eyes.
“I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go.”
For the first time, Joaquin realized exactly how Y/N felt anytime he came home with bruises or scrapes. He used to only be able to imagine what she felt when she got a call he’d been injured on the field. He knew, now, how horrible it felt. It was like ice weaving through his veins yet it made his heart feel on fire. He was sure there was a fire starting in his lungs.
Medics rushed toward them, convincing him to move aside so they could start their work.
“Don’t let me go,” she panicked, gripping his hand.
“I won’t,” he trembled, squeezing her back. “I won’t, I promise.”
The only time Joaquin let go of her hand was so they could put her on the stretcher. In the ambulance, she fought for consciousness. Despite his pleading and coaxing, she closed her eyes. It was hours in the uncomfortable waiting room chair before the surgeon spoke to him. He’d handed over his information and when the receptionist declined his request to cover her expenses because he was merely considered intelligence, not an active-duty Captain, Sam talked his way into covering it.
Joaquin remained by her side in the hospital room until she woke up.
“Hey,” he said softly, reaching for her hand.
Joaquin instinctively reached for her face with his free one. He’d brushed hair out of her eyes so many times that it’d become a habit to just caress the skin at her temple. Years later and it was still with him.
“What happened?” she croaked.
“Um, you had some internal bleeding,” he explained, clearing his throat as tears burned the back of his eyes. “They got the bullet out but you’ve been out a little while. You should be discharged tomorrow.”
“I can’t afford this, Joaquin,” she tried to push herself up. “I can’t pay—”
“No, Y/N—” Joaquin pushed her gently back down. He squeezed her hand, running the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s all right. You don’t have to pay for anything.”
Her eyes bounced back and forth between his. “Don’t tell me you paid.”
“Sam handled it. As you said,” he sniffed, “I owed you.”
She sighed, gazing down at their hands.
“Y/N, you could’ve died,” Joaquin breathed.
“Well, now you know how it felt.”
It was like a knife to the chest.
“I did—I do.” He shook his head, a tear trailing down his cheek. “I can’t say how sorry I am. I… I never wanted to hurt you. I loved you… so much. I still love you.”
Y/N sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand under her eyes.
“I understand if you don’t,” he continued, “but if you’re willing to try again, I’ll put down the wings. I’ll stop. I’ll find a different career. Anything you want.”
“Joaquin.” Y/N lifted her free hand to place it on top of his. “I would never ask you to give up your dreams. I’ve only ever wanted you to remember that I needed you, too. I need you. Do you understand that?”
Joaquin nodded stiffly, bringing her fingers to his lips. She cupped his cheek and his eyes closed as he leaned into her touch. He entwined his fingers with hers over the back of her hand and kissed her palm.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he mumbled against her skin.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she replied through silent tears.
“I’m assuming this means we’re still on for the food truck?”
Y/N laughed and it brought a smile to Joaquin’s face. The air between them felt lighter and it almost made him want to cry more.
“Yes, we’re still on for the food truck.”
Pls support my imagine I did actual in-depth research for this 😃😃
𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐉𝐎𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍
uncle!joaquin torres x fem!reader
synopsis: while y/n meets joaquin's family, she wonders if its time to start one their own.
request: yes
wc: 1.4k
a/n: i wrote this while having a migraine and got too excited not to post this immediately LOL this is my first time writing for joaquin so any feedback is appreciated <333
“You’re here!”
Joaquin leapt down the porch steps, landing flat on his feet.
Y/N suppressed a grin, flapping her arms uselessly at her sides, “I thought about bailing but realized that’d probably be ru—”
She yelped as her feet left the sidewalk, holding onto Joaquin’s shoulders as her spun her. His hands rested on her waist when he set her down. Love shone bright in his eyes as he gazed at her.
“I’m nervous,” Y/N admitted.
“What? No, don’t be nervous,” he rubbed her arms reassuringly. “Look, I’ll be there with you the whole time. I won’t leave your side.”
“Do I look all right?” she glanced at her clothes. “Do I look good?”
“Yeah, you look good.” His smile sharpened into a smirk as he eyed her up, “Gimme a spin.”
Joaquin’s hand slid down her arm as she stepped back, taking her fingers.
“Okay, baby!” He cheered as she spun.
Y/N threw her head back as she laughed. “Okay, okay. Your turn. Come on!”
Joaquin held his hands up in surrender as he used his heels to turn himself.
“Okay,” she drawled, encouraging him.
He popped the collar of his button-up and forced his face in an exaggerated look of flirtation.
She erupted in a fit of laughter, “I hate it when you do that.”
“Why?” he fought to hide his smile. “Don’t I look handsome?”
She closed the distance between them, fixing his collar as she giggled, “Yeah, handsome Squidward.”
He put a hand to his heart, the other cupping her neck, “You wound me, mi amor.”
Y/N smiled as she leaned in, kissing him softly. Joaquin leaned in, deepening the kiss and as he went in for more, she pushed away.
“Mi amor,” he drawled, reaching for her.
“Your family could be watching!”
Joaquin’s smile turned soft, the one that always had her melting in his hands, “I don’t care.”
“I do,” she emphasized.
He smiled at her a moment longer before his hand shot out. Y/N yelped as he poked her under the rib. She watched him with her mouth open as he darted for the door like an idiot.
Y/N met Joaquin at the garden centre she worked at. He’d been dragged along by his mother and grandmother. She’d noticed him a couple isles away as she packed flowers into fresh pots, nearly jumping and repeatedly half-twisting at the waist as he anxiously followed behind them. Y/N smiled at his boyish behaviour, Joaquin speaking excitedly in Spanish and clearly bothering his grandmother who smacked him in the arm with a wrinkled hand every now and then. Then he’d stopped to get a proper look at the place as he caught Y/N’s gaze. All the energy had seemingly left his body, a small smile creepy up his lips. He waved at her but she’d only smiled, averting her gaze back to her work.
Joaquin was awkward and dorky but charismatic and funny. The more dates he took her on, the more she fell for him. He was patient and attentive and he held the door for her. He refused to let her pay and brought her flowers on every date. He let her set the tone, not rushing her into anything she wasn’t comfortable with and she appreciated that most. When she said she’d like something more, he nearly leapt into the air with the same energy she saw in the greenhouse.
Y/N raced towards him up the steps and he laughed as she fought to poke him back.
“You’re such a little shit,” she said through her teeth, but a smile threatened to appear.
Joaquin pressed a hard kiss to her cheek before opening the door with his hand in hers. When she stepped inside, her senses were overloaded by voices, music, and the scent of homemade food. Joaquin’s grandmother’s home was small but cozy, more welcoming than she’d anticipated. He pulled her into the living room and it seemed as though the entire house erupted in cheers at the sight of them. She squeezed his hand as his family crowded around them, introducing themselves with cheek kisses and hugs. Joaquin clapped cousins on the shoulder and ruffled the kids sticking to their parents like glue. Y/N was overwhelmed, pleasantries all but a blur as they made their way through the crowd.
“Abu,” Joaquin called into the kitchen. “Abuela.”
“Mm,” the old woman she saw at the greenhouse a year ago turned from the counter, a colourful apron tied around her waist.
Joaquin kissed her on the cheeks before saying in Spanish, “Abu, this is Y/N.”
“Aye, Y/N!” The older woman came toward her with her arms open. She took her face in her wrinkled hands, pressing a kiss to each cheek.
“It is very nice to finally meet you, Abuela,” Y/N smiled.
She turned to her grandson, saying something in Spanish she couldn’t quite catch but it made her pinch Joaquin’s cheek and his ears turn red.
Y/N eyed the kitchen counters covered in colourful foods, the pot nearly boiling over on the stove. “Can I help you with anything?”
“No, no, no, no. You go,” she waved them off. “Go, go.”
Joaquin pulled her out into the backyard where more of his family loitered. The younger children seemed to gravitate to the grass, running and chasing each other as they laughed. Joaquin caught the attention of his brother who stood alongside his wife and when she turned, Y/N’s mouth dropped.
“Oh, my God, Joaquin,” Y/N squeezed his arm.
An infant lay asleep in her arms, no more than a few months old. She said hello to Joaquin’s brother and sister-in-law but couldn’t take her eyes off the baby.
“Give me my nephew,” Joaquin reached out.
“Where are your manners?” she chided, but handed the baby over with a smile.
The baby opened his eyes, fussing for a moment before Joaquin shushed him, bouncing him gently.
“This is Ramón,” he said softly.
“You look good with a baby in your arms, Joaquin,” his sister-in-law teased.
“He’s beautiful, Ana,” said Y/N.
“The baby or your boyfriend?” she joked, making them all laugh.
Y/N hugged Joaquin’s bicep, resting her head on his shoulder as she observed Ramón yawn.
“¡Tio Joaquin!”
His niece and nephew ran up to him, his nephew pulling the bottom of his shirt.
“Come play!” his nephew giggled, stretching the fabric with his small hand.
“We want you to get us!” said his niece.
“Vale, vale,” Joaquin nodded, urging the baby back to Ana.
Joaquin stared at them a moment longer before suddenly lunging forward. They screamed and ran away, Joaquin chasing after them. Y/N watched them from the patio with a smile on her face. Eventually, he fell back on the grass, out of breath, but the kids took it as an invitation to jump on him. They piled on, the adults laughing as they watched.
“How long have you been dating?” asked Ana.
“A little over a year,” answered Joaquin’s brother.
“I didn’t ask you,” Ana scolded, elbowing him.
Y/N had met Joaquin’s brother previously, finding that they were almost the same person. She only laughed when he replied out of excitement rather than disrespect.
“He’s right,” Y/N nodded. “I wanted to take it slow.”
“Ever talk of getting married?”
A small smile formed on her lips. “We’ve talked about it. I think we’re just waiting for the right time. The world’s still healing from the Blip, you know?”
“There’s no rush, hon,” Ana reassured her. “Take your time.”
Joaquin jogged up to them, sweating through his shirt and trying to catch his breath.
“Have fun?” Y/N asked, snaking an arm around his middle.
“I think I’ll need to rest tomorrow,” he breathed, kissing her hairline. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“Ah, old man,” she patted his back, making him smile.
After a moment, she gazed at him, “Ana’s right. You look good with a baby in your arms.”
Joaquin fully turned his body toward her, a smile brightening his face. “Y/N,” he sang.
“Yes, pretty boy?” she teased.
He leaned in close so only she could hear, “I could make you the prettiest babies, mi amor.”
“Hold on,” she said, “I’d be the one doing the making.”
“Yes, you’re right,” he held her face in his hands. “I could help make you the prettiest babies.”
“Not so fast,” Y/N warned. “Marriage first.”
With an entranced look in his eyes, he slowly lowered himself to the ground.
“Oh, stop it!” Before his knee could touch the concrete, she forced him to his feet again.
Joaquin smiled wide and kissed her cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she squeezed his bicep.
𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑
nikolai lantsov x fem!vertov!reader
synopsis: over a twelve-year period, dominik's older sister struggles with her role as a woman, grief, and her feelings towards the prince of ravka.
request: no
warnings: brief mention of sexual assault, brief physical violence, loss of loved one, grief, (happy ending, i promise)
wc: 12.1k
a/n: i listened to a lot of in cold light by vanbur and as if she was still here from one day while writing this so i highly recommend for a spiritual experience. this took me two or three months to write because life has been crazyyy. i fell out of writing this a little bit ago because my hyperfixation switched to the mcu but i heard franklin house by brenn! and remembered what pain felt like so i finally finished editing this
The world outside Y/N’s window was dark, not even the light of the moon shone through the dark clouds. At her desk, the candle light flickered as she wrote on her parchments, her back hunched and hand aching. She was no stranger to staying up past her mother’s strict bedtime and neither was her little brother Dominik. However, her older-sister-duties didn’t hesitate to kick in when she heard a soft rap at her door.
“Go to sleep, Dom,” she whispered.
She lifted her head as the knob twisted. The young boy’s hand and bright smile curved around the wood.
“You’re quite the hypocrite, Y/N,” he replied.
Y/N raised a brow, “I’m older, so I boss you around.”
“That makes no sense.”
“You make no sense.”
His smile only widened, the door creaking as his weight moved it slightly.
“I should like to show you something,” he said.
Dominik’s higher education made him stand out amongst his siblings. Aksel, their eldest brother, would tease him about how complex his sentences sounded at times, but he was the one who wished for Dominik to relay as much as he’d learned. Despite the fact that he was getting some sort of education.
Y/N pointed a finger at Dominik, “If it’s another rabbit, Ma will kill you, so you’d better put it back.”
“It’s a dog.”
Dominik jerked forward slightly, muffling a sound of pain.
“A dog?” she replied skeptically.
From the darkness of the hallway, Dominik yanked in his surprise.
“That doesn’t look like a dog,” Y/N said.
Dominik’s surprise, a Fjerdan boy, smiled at her sheepishly.
Dominik beamed at his sister with the hopes that such a look would ease the onslaught of her anger.
“This is Nikolai.”
Oh.
“Oh,” Y/N mumbled.
The crickets and cicadas of the late Summer chirped and buzzed in the momentary silence.
The small prince held out a hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Dominik talks much of you all.”
With part disrespect and part fear, the farmgirl ignored the Prince’s attempt at peace.
“Yeah,” she replied, “I’m sure.”
With a pleading look, Dominik said, “I’m just going to show him my room and then we’ll go.”
When nine-year-old Dominik first began working at the palace, he’d return home with welts almost everyday. Rather quickly, it died down to a couple times a week and then nearly none at all. Later into his job, he’d come home with the welts and lashes already tended to. It was because of Nikolai, Dominik had said, but it was also because of Nikolai that he needed a whipping boy in the first place. It angered Y/N that he couldn’t just be grateful for the hand he was dealt. Instead, he had to make it everyone else’s problem. A person like him could never understand his own luck nor the luck of others.
The farmgirl locked eyes with her brother, “You never should’ve brought him here.”
“Y/N—”
“He is not some friend of yours, Dominik!” she exclaimed, hand tight around her quill. “He is a prince and we are peasants. If he is found to be missing, found in our house or with you, his people will take away everything.”
“Saints, Y/N would you keep it down?”
Kostya, their second eldest brother, came into the room rubbing a sleepy eye. When he finally noticed Nikolai, he froze. He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands.
“Nikolai is my friend,” Dominik exclaimed.
“He is your prince. It is impossible for him to be your friend,” Y/N roared back.
“Okay, okay …” Kostya got in between the siblings. “Dom, it is time for the Prince to go home. I am sure he must be up early and so will we.”
Dominik stared at his brother before nodding stiffly. Y/N ’s gaze locked on her papers, eyes wide as exhaustion took over her and the aching in her hand throbbed.
“You didn’t need to do that in front of him,” said Kostya.
Y/N began cleaning up her papers. The ink had yet to fully dry so they smudged against each other and on her fingertips.
“Ma and Pap told us not to trust those kinds of people,” she said. “That’s what we’ve been taught. That’s what Dom has been taught and of course he doesn’t listen. He never listens.”
“You can’t be all that surprised,” Kostya replied as she rounded her bed.
Y/N pulled out a basket underneath her bed frame and placed the papers amongst the others, “All that’s ever been expected of me is to do what I am told so why does he not get the same treatment?”
“Because he’s a boy.”
Kostya had always been the type of person to speak plainly but that didn’t keep it from hurting when he was honest. She stared at him from her crouched position on the floor. After a moment, his arms lifted in a matter-of-fact manner.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he began, “I think Ma is a little jealous that you get to do more than just housework.”
She blinked slowly, then replied, “I wonder if they’ll have a medal for ‘Biggest Asshole’ in the army. Now get out.”
With a wheeze of laughter, Kostya left his sister to finally get some rest.
The next time Y/N would see Nikolai Lantsov would be two years later when they were fourteen.
She was in their small barn milking their cow. They’d only been able to afford the rickety shelter, a couple pigs, and one cow with the income from Dominik’s time at the castle. Aksel once pitched in with his personal earnings from the army and bought them a sheep. It turned out to have some sort of disease and died rather quickly.
“Hello?” a voice called from around the house.
Y/N’s brows furrowed as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look. Dominik rounded the dark, wooden building and so did the familiar head of golden hair. Y/N stood up so fast the milk sloshed in the pail and its handle clanged.
Nikolai Lantsov was taller than she remembered. A shameful thought occurred to her. She wondered with the passing years how he evaded the bastard speculations. It seemed to be getting more difficult as time went on. He was taller, but he was built for the winter. He almost looked out of place in a tunic and trousers, pale skin reflecting under the bright sun of summer. His shoulders looked like they were brooding in preparation to carry heavier furs.
“Please don’t be angry,” Dominik pleaded, his hands together in pleading as he strode for her.
Y/N looked between her brother and the Prince, then lifted her two pails. Her muddied skirts swished against the grass as she made for the kitchen screen door.
“Y/N,” her brother called after her.
With the crack of the screen hitting the wall, the pails thunked onto the dining table. The screen banged open and shut as she pulled their biggest pot from the cupboard.
“You must understand I mean no harm.”
The birds chirped as she dumped the milk into the pot.
“Over the years, Dominik has been a great friend to me,” Nikolai said. “He’s the truest one I have if not the only one. I can truly rely on him.”
“Yes because if we were in need of defending, you’d be the one to the rescue.”
Nikolai scoffed. “I moved your brother from the front lines, didn’t I?”
Y/N spun on her heels. “What?”
Nikolai appeared confused. “Did Dominik not tell you?”
“Aksel left Kribirsk because the commander wanted him to protect the border in Sikursk,” she said, her finger moving animatedly.
“At my request,” he clarified.
Y/N gaped at him, wooden spoon in hand. “Now you’re going to tell me Kostya was placed in Balakirev at your doing.”
The Prince shrugged nonchalantly. “It was guarding a governor or my personal guard. I figured you’d had enough of your family looking after me.”
After a moment of silence, she realized she should probably thank him. Instead, she stirred the milk.
“What are you doing?” Nikolai wondered.
Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean, ‘what am I doing’?”
“Don’t be daft.”
“You and your funny words,” she murmured. “I am pasteurizing the milk.”
“And you say I have funny words.”
Words came as easily to her with him as they did with her brothers. Though each time she replied, there was an ache that appeared in her stomach in anticipation of hearing his reaction.
The farmgirl shot him a look over her shoulder. “Before eating or drinking it, you have to heat it to just before a boil.”
Nikolai came up beside her, staring down into the pot, nearly on his toes. “And what if you didn’t?”
She raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure you’d want to know?”
“I am asking, lovely.”
Y/N caught him in the corner of her peripheral and when she turned her head slightly, she realized how close they were. His hair had begun curl, just at the tips. It was flat and short when they were twelve. He also had a scar running through his left brow. She’d never met someone with hazel eyes before.
Y/N sucked in a breath and looked back to the pot, standing on her toes to see inside.
“You’d either be pooping blood, unable to move your body, vomiting, or you’d die. Or, if you’re unlucky enough, all four.”
“I fear I’d be the unlucky bastard to experience all four.”
A laugh escaped her and she slapped a hand over her mouth to halt it. Nikolai beamed.
“Well,” he turned on his heel, walking towards the screen, “I will leave you to it.”
“Nikolai.”
The Prince halted, turning to face her again. She was going to tell him not to break his heart, but she something else came out instead.
“You’re a royal prick.”
After a couple seconds, he curtsied. When he left the house, Y/N stifled a wide smile.
A year later, Dominik was no longer allowed at the castle. Nikolai was sixteen, so he was to join the army. Dominik took up work on the farm to keep himself busy. He’d work until he’d nearly pass out or else he’d sit on the porch and read the last letter Nikolai had written him over and over until the newest reply arrived.
Dominik would lie, claiming each letter was from a friend he’d made around the castle, but their parents knew. There had been whispers that a boy looking like the prince was playing in the woods with their son or a boy looking like the prince was prancing around in peasant clothes. He walked too much like a royal and attracted too much attention from girls to simply be from the next city over.
On Dominik’s sixteenth birthday, he was off to Balakirev to join Kostya. It had been a couple of months of Dominik’s training when he was finally allowed some free time. At the same time, Aksel’s troop was passing through Balakirev. It had been a couple years since she’d seen her older brothers, even more since she’d seen Aksel, so she made the trek on horseback a couple hours to Balakirev. She arrived shortly before sunset, leaving her horse in the stables, and making her way through the bustling camp. It was large with both her bothers’ groups combined and the same tents made everything a maze. She stopped in the middle of it all to look around, hoping to see a familiar head of brown hair. Instead, she froze at the sight of short, curly gold hair. The young man turned around. His eyes caught hers, looked away, then back again as he realized. He froze as if caught in time, his tankard halfway to his mouth.
The Prince of Ravka had grown much since fourteen. His shoulders were broad with muscle, his nose slightly crooked as if previously broken. He looked less like a prince and more like a seventeen-year-old boy. It was terrifying. Why was she terrified? That familiar ache appeared in her stomach.
“You made it!”
Dominik suddenly gripping her by the shoulders and pulling her into his widened chest shook her from stupor.
In just a matter of months her scrawny little brother was towering over her and he’d gained muscle in his arms.
“You’re choking me,” she wheezed against him.
“Oh, hello.”
A boy looking to be her brother’s age, maybe even younger, came up to them, a smug smile on his lips.
“You never said you had a sister,” the young man said. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Beautiful.”
“Yeah, because you’re a fucking hound,” Dominik retorted. “Get out of here, Kirigin.”
Y/N looked up at her brother, surprised by the word choice. He almost never swore and yet now he said it like it was second nature.
Kirigin barked at Dominik, eliciting a grimace from her.
“And who might you be, Miss?” he asked.
“Y/N,” a man’s voice answered for her.
She turned to be met with Nikolai’s gaze.
His voice had significantly dropped. She almost couldn’t recognize the person he was. Her heart started to race. She was grateful the sky was darkening for she was sure she was red from cheek to ear.
“Hi,” she managed.
Behind her, Dominik and Kirigin began talking animatedly, but she couldn’t hear him over the roaring in her ears.
“You’re here,” he said.
“I am.”
“You know,” Aksel, clearly drunk, suddenly appeared, slinging an arm around Nikolai’s shoulders, “the Princeling isn’t all that bad, Y/N/N. He’s quite fun, really.” Aksel hiccuped. “I think I might be sick. Give me a second.”
As quick as he’d appeared, he’d disappeared behind a tent.
“Where—Where’s Kostya?” Y/N’s head tilted as she searched the camp behind Nikolai.
“I, um…” Nikolai gave his head a shake, as though coming back to himself. “I think he’s, um,” he looked around, “well let’s just say he’s with his friend.”
The corner of her mouth lifted, “Are you drunk?”
He slowly smiled, eliciting a grin of her own. Nikolai laughed softly, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Uh… yeah. Yeah, a little bit. We all are.”
Y/N’s brows furrowed as she suddenly remembered the last years.
“He was really broken, you know? When you left.”
“I know,” Nikolai nodded. “So was I. It was difficult not having him by my side.”
From the moment Dominik got drafted, Y/N had a thought biting at the back of her mind.
“You helped him get into the army,” she spoke aloud.
Dominik had received his letter the morning of his sixteenth birthday. That was much too early.
“I requested him in my battalion,” Nikolai admitted. “It just so happened Kostya was also Lieutenant of said battalion.”
“But you’re the prince so technically you’re still above him.”
“Not here. Rank outside of the military doesn’t matter in the barracks.”
“I’m sure that went well.”
“Well, how do you think I got this?” he pointed to his nose.
She smiled wide in curiosity, standing on her toes to get a better look at the small scar running across his bent bridge. When her feet flattened against the earth again, they gazed at each other. She came to a sudden, terrifying realization.
She was developing feelings for the Prince of Ravka.
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. What a ridiculous idea, to be in love with a prince, of all people. It was impossible. Entirely, completely impossible. Yet there was, staring into his eyes and his charming smile and feeling herself falling into the pit of no return.
“I’d offer you a drink, though I fear the stuff we have is insulting to a lady,” Nikolai said.
Her head tilted, a small smile forming as her eyes squinted, “What do you think we drink on the outskirts of Os Alta?”
He laughed, nodding, “All right.”
Y/N never would have believed it if you’d told her before today that she would be drinking and laughing with Nikolai Lanstov. He didn’t leave her side, not even when Aksel and Dominik were around. He kept the lustful men away and the possibility of forgetting the night even farther. They watched Dominik get up on a table, dancing and shouting and nearly falling off. She was sure she hadn’t laughed this hard in her life.
As the night grew darker and the soldiers grew drunker, many passed out around the fire. After a while, Nikolai had the gaul to stop her tankard from being full.
“If the Major found out I allowed his sister to get piss drunk,” he defended, “he’d make sure I shovelled horse shit for weeks.”
“Did Aksel order you to watch over me?” her eyes narrowed playfully, her body leaning in closer to his.
“No,” he chuckled.
To her surprise, he said nothing more.
“Can you see the Fold at night?” she asked, eyeing the black horizon.
When Y/N turned to him, he was already smiling down at her.
She leaned on Nikolai’s arm as they walked. As they crested the hill, Y/N halted. She hit the ground with a thud, unable to feel the pain that laced through her at the sudden drop. Nikolai lowered himself down next to her like the regal drunk he was.
From the outskirts of Os Alta, the Shadow Fold looked like a giant black wall. From Balakirev, it manifested as a monster. It was made of clouds and ink, thunder and green lighting cracking and booming. She could feel her heart in her throat. It was a new kind of fear seeing such a thing from this distance. She could only imagine it for the soldiers that crossed from Kribirsk.
“One day,” Nikolai began wistfully, “I plan to build a boat and sail across it.”
“Across the Shadow Fold?” her brows furrowed.
“It will fly.”
Y/N sputtered a laugh, a snort coming from her. “You and what Grisha?”
“There are outlaws,” he eyed her playfully. “Many of them from Shu Han or Fjerda. I’ve already met a couple in the Second Army who are indifferent to Aleksander’s ideals.”
“Aleksander?” she began picking blades of grass.
“He is the General of the Second Army—their shadow summoner. There are whispers he seeks a sun summoner to destroy the Fold.”
“Impossible,” she mumbled, watching the wall roil and rumble. “Sun summoners do not exist and if they do, they are in hiding.”
“Rightfully so,” he nodded. “He comes from a line of powerful men. Powerful men are dangerous, as one knows.”
Y/N hesitated, then peered at Nikolai. “Do you really plan to leave Ravka?”
“I hope so,” he gazed at her, nodding once. “I cannot stay here my entire life. My brother is hopeless. Even my father knows this. Someone tolerable, at least, must uphold the monarchy.”
Y/N offered him an earnest smile. “You would make a fine King, Nikolai.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. He looked down at his hands.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he replied softly. “You know … you could come with me, if you’d like. Dominik too, obviously.”
“Oh no,” her head swayed, eyes wide. “I don’t do heights.”
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” he teased, bumping her shoulder with his own. “Don’t be like that.”
“I’m serious! You tell me don’t look down and I will look down. I’d throw up all over you. Or cry. Maybe both.”
Nikolai laughed, his head thrown back. Y/N couldn’t help but smile broadly at the sight.
When his shoulders relaxed and the laughter died down, he found himself looking at her. They stared at each other for a moment.
“You are absolutely beautiful, Y/N.”
Y/N scoffed. “You’re drunk.”
“Not anymore.”
She gaped at him like a fish out of water until he captured her lips in his.
Any time she’d kissed someone, it’d been while drunk and bored. Hungry for someone’s attention. This was different. It was slow and gentle, like they had all the time in the world. As she went to run her fingers in his hair, he pulled back. Their foreheads rested together, his breath on her cheek.
When she leaned in again, he leaned away. She stared at him in a haze, suddenly feeling very sober.
“I can’t,” he whispered. “Not right now.”
“What?” she said, voice edged with irritation.
“You’re drunk, Y/N.”
“So are you.”
“I want to kiss you, Y/N. I really do,” he explained. “If you feel no regret by the morning—or even remember this …”
Y/N peered at the grass, tugging out a few strands.
She nodded, then whispered, “Okay.”
It was silent as she worked through the mud that was her thoughts. While irritated, she wasn’t sure she’d ever been granted the level of respect he was showing her. She needed to kiss him again, but it was a terrifying thought. Was it really worth her while? It wouldn’t go anywhere. She refused to be someone’s mistress. This is also her brother’s best friend and the one man in all her country she was to pretend to like. Actually liking him was impossible.
“I think I should go to bed,” she mumbled.
“I’ll walk you.”
They stood together. Nikolai hovered close, watching her warily. The walk to Kostya’s tent was quiet. Y/N couldn’t let her eyes leave the dirt. She wasn’t sure whether Nikolai was quiet out of respect or if he was beginning to regret his actions. He must know how pointless it would be.
When they got to the tent entrance, Y/N put her hand between the flaps, but half-turned to look at Nikolai.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said. “I had fun.”
He smiled earnestly, dipping his head. “So did I.”
Before she could resume entering the tent, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, his hand brushing her arm.
“Good night, Y/N.”
She tried to respond. She really did, but she ended up chewing the words.
Y/N went to bed that night in an empty tent, alone with her thoughts of Nikolai.
The next morning, they sat across from each other at the picnic table alongside her brothers and their friends. She was proud of Dominik. He was always quiet and reserved, now he was growing into a confident and charming man. To take her mind off the previous night, she admired her brother conversing with people like it was second nature.
The group walked into town for their first day off. Nikolai walked ahead with Dominik. As they got closer to the bustling streets and Dominik became distracted by something Aksel said, the Prince slowed. Discreetly, he took Y/N’s bicep, separating her from Kostya.
“I hope you slept well,” he said, hands clasped behind him.
Under the light of the sun, his hair was a burning gold. His height brought shade over her eyes.
“Like a babe,” she replied easily.
“I must ask …”
He searched for the right words.
“How much do you—”
Y/N raised onto her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.
Nikolai looked at her in shock, up to his friends ahead, then back to her. His hand reached for her arm, cupping the sleeveless skin gently in his rough palm.
Y/N began toward the town again. When he wasn’t following beside her, she walked backwards, a smile lighting up her face.
“Aren’t you coming?”
The Prince chuckled, then jogged to catch up.
The small town of Balakirev was the most loyal to their Saints, hence their church and bell tower in the middle of the square. This made them a popular spot on Saints day for their scenic sleigh rides and riveting festivals. Aside from Saints day, their summers and springs were filled with stalls of all kinds of goods. Being in the middle of farm country and a couple hours ride to the Fold, most of their stands were made up of perishables.
Nikolai stopped at a fruit stall, picking up a perfectly red apple.
At another stall, Y/N touched a soft fabric, admiring the others piled on the crates. She felt a pressure at her bicep and when she looked, Nikolai was holding a piece of apple. She put it in her mouth and her eyes widened.
“This is incredible,” she mumbled around it, a hand covering her lips in politeness.
“Right,” he nodded, eyes wide himself in agreement.
As they walked, he would cut her a slice of apple and fed them both.
Y/N stopped at one of the stalls bustling with people to look at their array of jewelry.
“Are these imported?” she asked the young woman.
“My father and I handcraft them,” the young woman replied, smiling proudly.
“Really?” Y/N picked up an iron ring with a dark blue stone in it.
“Well, mainly he makes them. I just find the stones and crystals, show him a design and he puts it together.”
“He has a gift,” Y/N breathed, eyeing it.
“Whatcha got there?” Nikolai came up beside her.
“Thank you, ma’am. Oh—Your Highness,” she curtsied deep. “It is a pleasure.”
“Please, just call me Nikolai,” he nodded politely. “That is beautiful.”
“How much?” Y/N asked.
When the young woman told her the price, her face fell.
“For the Prince and his friends, anything is free.”
“Saints, no,” Y/N shook her head. “A piece like this deserves to be full price. It’s too gorgeous for anything lower.”
“Thank you, miss,” she lowered her head with a small smile.
“Thank you,” Y/N nodded, continuing on.
“You really liked that,” Nikolai followed her. He gently grabbed her bicep. “Why not buy it?”
“With what money?”
Nikolai seemed to be left speechless. She wasn’t sure why he so often needed to be reminded of her position and why it always left him in disbelief. That ring could have bought her family a couple sheep.
They spent much of the next two days stealing kisses when no one was looking and gentle touches as they brushed past.
Nikolai was a better man than she’d initially thought. He was a prince but he was a boy first. She could understand why her brother cherished him so much. Although she had only met one prince in her life, he defied the ideas that had been placed in her head since childhood regarding the wealthy. He never bragged nor demanded. He only related and inquired. It was difficult to believe he was truly born regal.
On the third night Y/N spent in Kostya’s tent, she found her stomach tightening when her brother said into the dark,
“Dom knows, Y/N.”
She chewed on her lip. “What do you mean?”
“He saw Nikolai kiss your cheek the first night. He’s been paying attention to you two ever since.”
Her breathing picked up. Y/N’s mouth opened, then closed.
“Is he angry?” she mumbled.
“I don’t think so,” Kostya replied. “I would caution you, Y/N … be careful.”
“I do not wish to hurt Dom. I understand the situation.”
“I’m not as worried about Dom as I’m worried about you. You know what he is to us.”
The enemy. The commander. The person who decides whether they eat the next day or what type of roof they have over their heads.
Their parents ingrained it in their minds. They didn’t entirely approve of Dominik’s friendship with Nikolai, but they understood the most they could do to keep their family safe was warn their youngest.
Kostya shifted under the covers. “Do you understand, Y/N?”
“Yes,” she breathed, sending the word into the wind that gently rattled their tent.
Y/N and Nikolai spent the last night under the stars, back atop the hill he’d first kissed her on. He held her in his arms as he said,
“Would you marry me?”
Y/N blinked at the sky. “Pardon?”
“Would you marry me?”
He sat up, pulling something from his pocket. It was the ring she’d seen in town.
“Fuck, Nikolai,” she pushed away from him, eyes wide.
“It is hopeless—my brother being king. My father and mother know it. It is why they have me in the army and studying so often. They plan to name me heir. You are everything Ravka needs in a Queen.”
Y/N shot up, beginning to pace, “Nikolai—”
“Although if you do not wish to have the crown, you may be my Queen Consort. I do not wish to force it upon you.”
“Stop it,” her fingers tangled in her hair, imagining if she tugged on the strands hard enough, her skin would peel away and she’d be born anew.
She needed to escape this.
“Think about it,” he insisted. “You do not owe me an answer right away.”
“I do not owe you an answer at all!” she exclaimed. “Saints … goodnight, Nikolai.”
Y/N speed-walked down the hill. She entered the tent, finding Kostya asleep on the floor. She took off her boots, laid on his cot, and brought the blanket up to her chin.
Her brother turned over. “Have fun?” he mumbled sleepily.
“He asked me to marry him,” she murmured.
“Did you punch him?”
“I wish.”
Y/N sighed.
“Guess what I’m doing,” said Kostya.
“No.”
“Imagining you in a crown with the biggest ball gown.”
Kostya grunted, laughing when his sister hit him hard.
Y/N got to the stables early the next morning with Kostya, readying her horse. The sun was just rising, bathing everything in an orange glow. She stared out at the camp slowly becoming more busy with the rising soldiers as her brother tightened the straps on her saddle.
Aksel came up with his arms outstretched. He engulfed his little sister firmly, rubbing her back with one hand. He’d hugged her the same way in childhood and it brought her back, filling her with a painful, bittersweet feeling.
“You take care of yourself, all right?” he said, voice muffled in her shoulder.
“You too,” she squeezed him.
“Tell Ma and Pap we miss them.”
“I will,” she smiled, pulling away.
She found Dominik’s flat-lipped smile as she searched for her next goodbye. Ready for an awkward interaction, Dominik instead hugged her tightly. He held her as though afraid to let go.
“Write to me, okay?” Y/N whispered.
“Of course,” he replied.
A surge of anxiety came over her as she held her baby brother. “Be safe, okay? Don’t make rash decisions.”
“I know,” he squeezed her.
“I’m serious, Dom,” she held his face in her hands. “I cannot protect you while you are this far from home. You are to take care of yourself now.”
“I was never your burden to bear, Y/N.”
That’s where their lives diverged. She was a woman, born to care for everyone but herself and he was a man, born to misunderstand the lives of others.
Dominik moved aside at her silence, as if unveiling the Prince of Ravka behind him. She stared at him, unsure as to what she should say. She could give him an answer, though she did not want to.
By the look in his eyes, she assumed he understood her decision.
“It was very nice seeing you again, Y/N.”
Her lips remained closed, but then a thought came to her.
“It was a pleasure, Your Highness.” She bowed deeply.
When she came back up, there was a smile on his lips.
Y/N began toward her horse, halting in front of Kostya.
Unlike Aksel, he’d never been one for emotion. He preferred holding his feelings inward, making it difficult to find comfort within him.
“I am going to hug you,” she warned, reaching for him.
“Why do you torture me so?” he replied, wrapping his arms around her.
“Did that friend of yours turn you into a poet?” she said for only him to hear.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Mm,” she pulled away, giving him a pointed look. “Is she nice?”
Kostya visibly withheld a smile, winking in response.
Y/N squeezed his bicep, then grabbed the saddle. Her brother helped her up as she jumped, handing her the reins.
She looked at her brothers, memorizing their grown faces, then looked at Nikolai. She couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye so with a tap of her legs, she was riding hard out of the camp and into the rising sun.
Y/N’s future was different than that of her brothers. They were to have some sort of education and then do as they please. All that mattered was Aksel took over the farm and had a couple children. Y/N was to get married and work until Aksel found a wife. Their father was busy trying to sell the stock from the farm and their mother was busy doing homely duties, just as she would eventually be.
It was a dreadful life but that’s the hand she was given and she would make the most of it.
It was only a month after she’d last seen her brothers that Aksel returned home. He’d found a wife and she was with-child shortly after their small wedding. Y/N continued to write letters to Dominik and Kostya, thinking of them every day. Dominik let her know the letters would stop for a bit as he and Nikolai were stationed on the Fjerdan border. The closest town was far away, so they’d be camping in the harsh winter.
One day, Y/N went to the market for her mother. When she returned from the city, she found Kostya and Nikolai seated at her kitchen table. She stood still, the screen door banging shut behind her. Kostya was staring out the window toward the pasture where the cows huddled in the barn, hiding from the rain. Nikolai’s face was entirely void of emotion as he stared at the table. Terror burned a pit in her stomach.
“Where’s Dom?” she said quietly.
Kostya looked away from the window, sucking in a breath. His face was red, eyes glossed as silent tears streamed down his face. A hand came down his face, fingers wrinkling the skin around his eyes as they unveiled his attempt at composure.
Dominik Vertov was only seventeen years old when he bled out on Fjerdan territory.
Kostya scouted ahead and had turned around at the sound of multiple gun shots. He’d found his little brother’s cold, blood-soaked body clutched against the Prince of Ravka’s chest.
There was a hollowness in her chest as Y/N thought of Dominik. It wasn’t the sort of hollowness one gets when they’re indifferent or when they’re pretending to be apathetic. It was like someone had shoved their fist into her chest with the intent to pull out her heart, then upon realizing she was still alive despite losing a part of herself, they just left the concave area for everyone to see. She was in pain, but the pain was so indescribable even she couldn’t understand what to do. Maybe there was something in that hole forcing her to think of him over and over again and to worsen the pain each time.
She thought of every time she yelled or got angry at him. She thought about the time she’d rolled her eyes when he cried after burning his small hand. She thought about when he nearly fell off the house roof after learning to thatch it and instead of inquiring into his health, she berated him for his recklessness. She thought about Dominik lying in the snow, staring at the sky, hating her for that night in the barracks. He died hating her. If, in his final moments, he’d wished to haunt her for life, he was succeeding.
“I’m going to Ketterdam.”
The Prince had slept on their couch, keeping the family company and lending a hand until Aksel arrived.
He stood behind Y/N on the front porch, gazing out at the rain pouring.
With her arms wrapped around her middle, she dug her fingers hard enough into her forearms that the pain momentarily distracted her from his words.
“I wish for you to come with me,” he explained.
It had rained since the day the Prince and Kostya arrived home and hadn’t stopped since.
“I can’t,” she croaked.
“You can’t,” he challenged gently, “or you won’t?”
Her lips opened as she searched the sky for words.
“I’m married, Nikolai,” she professed.
Y/N faced his broken expression. While the sentence pained her to speak aloud, it seemed to cause him the same to hear it.
“I cannot leave.”
Nikolai looked her over.
“Is he kind to you?” he said, voice hoarse and eyes glassing over.
Y/N’s bottom lip tugged. “Kind enough.”
It took him a moment, but Nikolai reached for her face. He gazed at her the same way he did over a year ago, but he leaned their foreheads together. She rubbed the skin of his wrist with the pad of her thumb.
Nikolai sucked in a shaky breath. “You must come with me, Y/N. Please.”
Y/N squeezed his wrists. She pulled away, her face cringing in pain, “I was never yours, Nikolai.”
Nikolai had left that night without so much as a goodbye. Y/N had cried into her blankets.
The Prince of Ravka was never spoken of again amongst the Vertov siblings again. Though, Y/N did think of him often. While her husband squeezed her as he fought through his efforts, she remembered Nikolai’s gentleness. She remembered his gentle smile and his cold, sensitive touch. She found herself forgetting his laugh and even the colour of his eyes. When her mother died of sickness and her father of a broken heart, she had no choice but to move in with her husband. She used the opportunity to begin a new chapter.
When Y/N turned twenty, the Darkling reemerged. His reappearance and whispers of the Kings dwindling health put the country on edge. She found herself wondering where Nikolai was, hoping he was at his father’s bedside.
Even from miles away you could hear the screams. The earth shook as the palaces fell and caved in on themselves. Y/N stood at her bedroom window, watching the darkening sky glow in oranges and yellows. It had been on fire for hours and the screams had finally stopped.
A knock at her door made her jump.
“What is this?” she heard her husband say.
Y/N left the bedroom, beginning down the hall when her husband fell hard on his back. She froze, watching with wild eyes as he clutched at his heart. A man in a crimson coat came into view and it didn’t take long for him to notice her.
“What’s your name?”
She couldn’t move. She was sure her feet were nailed to the wooden floor for her brain was not communicating with her body.
“We’re looking for someone of great importance,” he explained, stepping closer to the hallway. “The King himself has called them and their family to Os Alta. They are most trusted by the Prince of Ravka. What is your name?”
She stuttered, “Y/N.”
When the corner of his mouth curled, she found herself spinning for the bedroom. Her feet made it to the doorway before it felt like her chest was caving in. As the world faded in and out, she fell to the floor, unable to feel the impact of the wood against her skull. His momentary loss of hold on her heart as he charged for her allowed her to begin screaming. The crimson man grappled for her as she kicked and punched, her voice piercing the night air. He took her by the hair and slammed her head hard against the floor. As he lifted her head to repeat the assault, a dull thunk came from behind him. He stared at her a moment before being kicked to the side. The man above her breathed heavily, hair hanging in his eyes.
As he kneeled for her, she began kicking again. As she screamed and cried and pleaded for her life, the man’s cold fingers held her wrists gently, but enough to keep her from lashing out.
“Y/N! Y/N, it’s me! Darling, it’s me,” he begged.
Y/N stopped fighting him off and finally got a good look at the man. Nikolai’s wide, concerned eyes stared back at her. He reached for her face, cradling it carefully and brushing hair from her face.
“I want to go home,” she whimpered.
Nikolai helped her up, protecting her against his chest. She wrapped her arms tight around his middle. He held her close as they left the house, leaving her husband and pretend life behind. As she walked in Nikolai’s arms, she was reminded of what security felt like.
“Let me help you, Kapitan,” someone reached toward her shaking frame.
Nikolai shrugged off his coat, wrapping it around her shoulders, then brought her back into his chest. After stepping aboard a small ship with white sails, he had her sit with her back against the railing.
He crouched, his fingers touching her ankle as he said, “I will be right back.”
“Nikolai—” her hands gripped his shirt.
“It is only for a moment,” he reassured. “I have to get us out of here.”
Distantly, she nodded.
As Nikolai began shouting commands, Y/N touched the back of her head. Thankfully, her fingers came back with only a couple drops of blood. She pulled the coat tighter around her, taking in the smell of stone mixed with pine. The white sails opened and she saw a couple arms rise, pushing them forward. Y/N’s eyes widened as she felt them gain toward the clouds. She looked around the boat, finding Grisha and soldiers, thankfully none in crimson. A man and woman in regal attire sat together, the woman holding a small dog that looked like a panting cotton ball. As the woman stared back at her, she realized they were the King and Queen. From head to toe they were covered in dust, a few scratches scattered across their faces and hands. If she weren’t still in shock, she’d have gotten angry at them. She’d probably have said things that would’ve gotten her killed. Instead, Y/N buried herself deeper in Nikolai’s coat, pressing the fabric of the lapel to her lips.
Nikolai returned, kneeling before her.
“You’re here,” she said.
“I am.”
He took her fingers in his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
“How is your head?” he brushed a thumb down her cheek.
“It hurts,” she whispered.
He looked her over, “Are you bleeding?”
“A little. I’ll be all right.”
Nikolai’s palm engulfed her cheek while the other held her hand. From afar, the Queen of Ravka watched them.
“How did you know I was in danger? How did you know where to find me?”
“I’m the future King of Ravka,” he quipped, “I must know the whereabouts of all important peoples.”
She cracked a smile, squeezing his fingers. “When did you become such a jester?”
“I’ve always been this way, lovely,” he flashed a charming smile.
“Not with me.”
Nikolai’s smile softened, the pad of his thumb brushing under her eye, “No, not with you.”
“Is the Sun Summoner here?” she asked, not taking her eyes off him.
His face turned grim. “No,” he replied softly. “I’m sure she made it out. She’s resilient.”
“I—”
The words dyed on her tongue, then reformed as she looked at his hand clutching her fingers.
Y/N stared at his thumb grazing her knuckles, “I heard of you and the Sun Summoner.”
“Yes… yes, she is…”
Y/N gazed at him.
“She is not a Saint,” he continued. “Like many others, I believed it too but… she’s her. She is Grisha, but she was raised in an orphanage as an otkazat’sya.”
“I do not care for who she is, Nikolai. I care for what she is to you.”
He nodded in understanding. “I believe Ravka needs a Grisha on the throne. A political statement. That is all it is.”
“You kissed her, Nikolai.”
“Yet I did not enjoy it,” he said it as if it were obvious. “I told you, it is all a matter of politics.”
“Do not lie to me, Nikolai,” she pleaded.
“I would never lie to you, Y/N,” he grasped her hand, looking at her through earnest eyelashes. “I have never and I would never. Not about this. It is true, it is merely a farce. If we marry, it is only for political purposes.”
“It is always politics,” she said to herself.
“Alina loves her Tracker, a boy she grew up with in the orphanage. I see it in his eyes, he is weak for her. Just as I am weak for you.”
“You are not weak, Nikolai. Do not say such things.”
“It is true,” he stated. “It is why I’ve kept track of you all these years. Why I knew where to find you.”
Y/N thought of the things she’d heard from her window—the horror that happened on his birthday, of all days.
“We could hear the screaming,” she swallowed. “Did everyone make it out all right?”
His face turned haunted.
Y/N got onto her knees. She kissed his cheek before pulling him into a crushing hug. Nikolai buried his face in her neck, his lips against her shoulder. Her hands rubbed his back soothingly.
“Happy birthday, Nikolai.”
His muscled arms tightened around her waist.
From over his shoulder, she connected eyes with the Queen again. This time, she looked sorrowful, like she was grieving. It made Y/N’s own heart ache, thinking back to the first time she met Nikolai when she had mistaken him for a Fjerdan boy. Hope swelled low in her belly, but was put out again when she realized how things turned out for the Queen. Y/N’s hand came up to cradle the back of Nikolai’s neck, as if to protect him from her own fear.
Nikolai had taken them to to a hideout called the Spinning Wheel. It was cold and damp, but the Darkling would never suspect them.
Come evening, Y/N stood alone in her bedchamber. It was lavish and uncomfortable. The bed had four posts with the option of a canopy. There was a fireplace and a couch with two velvet chairs. It was a bedroom fit for a royal.
Y/N padded over to the bed, pushing down on the mattress with her fingers. She grimaced, the padding softer than she was used to. She looked about the room. Her body wouldn’t allow her to lay in the bed nor would it allow her to sit on the chaise. Her feet yearned for home, so it took her there.
She found herself leaving her room, traversing down the cold hallway barefoot, and to Nikolai’s bedchamber. She entered without knocking, finding him sleeping soundly in his bed. When she pulled back his covers, he woke, but didn’t protest when she climbed under the sheets with him. He welcomed her into his warm embrace, his chilled hands snaking up her back as she curled into his chest.
As she laid in his arms, she wondered if this was what it was supposed to feel like. Maybe that slight discomfort she felt when she and her husband had triedto love one another at the beginning of their courtship was not normal. There were nights she’d lay awake, wondering if there was something wrong with her. She would pick at their days, trying to understand if something he did had turned her off of him. When she looked at Nikolai, she was excited and did not want to look away. When she was in Nikolai’s arms, she felt safe. She could confidently say if the Darkling came for them, Nikolai would fight for her. He would sacrifice himself to keep her alive.
There was nothing wrong with her husband. He was a good man who only did his duty. She mourned him, or maybe she mourned because that was what she was supposed to do. If she was honest to herself—and Saints be damned what they thought—she did not have trouble falling asleep nor did his death haunt her dreams. She thought about visiting his family once everything was over, but she almost couldn’t face them. She did not wish to. She barely knew them nor cared to know them. Y/N had not wanted any of this, most of all him.
The moment Nikolai heard of the target on Y/N, he’d gathered her brothers and their families and flown them to a secret vacation home. Aksel refused to get on before his little sister, but when Nikolai pointed out she’d kill him if he didn’t prioritize her family, he reluctantly climbed aboard. The vacation home Nikolai had bought merely for himself had enough bedrooms and bathrooms to comfortably house nine people. It was on a small lake that connected to a valley stream with a dock and a canoe for fishing. You’d only find them if you were in the air.
With the promise that they’d receive inventory every couple of weeks and the Prince would return once he was officially King, he set off.
Weeks later, Y/N stood at the water’s edge, waves lapping at the shore. She watched her nieces and nephews from the other side of the lake, their laughs and whines of irritation echoing across the water. A loud flap of wings had her spinning, the dagger leaving its sheath on her arm. She pointed the polished metal at the demon-like figure. To her astonishment it was Nikolai, but a corrupted version of him. His golden hair still glimmered in the sun, but his once beautiful blue eyes were swallowed by darkness. Nikolai stayed perched atop a group of rocks, crouching like a bird watching its prey. His shirt had disappeared, black veins standing out against his pale skin, tangling up his wrists and neck. His trousers were in tatters and his boots gone. His nails were now black talons and like the corners of his mouth, they were stained red.
“Nikolai,” she gasped out, dagger shaky in her tense grip.
His head cocked as tears fell down her cheeks in terror.
“What has he done to you?”
“Y/N!” she heard her brother call from across the lake.
“I’m sorry,” her face screwed up. “I’m so sorry.”
Nikolai jumped down from the rocks and reached into his pocket. His marred hand stretched towards her. In his palm was the ring she’d eyed at the market all those years ago.
When he opened his blood-slicked mouth, only clicking came out and tendrils of shadows. Her eyes went wide and he quickly turned his head the other way, the ring still in his palm.
“Y/N, don’t move!” Kostya shouted, sprinting his way around the lake’s edge.
Nikolai was still in there.
She stepped forward, taking the ring carefully from his cold palm.
“Y/N!”
Nikolai looked back at her slowly. His nose twitched. His mouth opened, but as he seemed to be about to lash out, he screeched, rearing away. His hands came up to his head as he seemed to fight himself, then he shot into the sun.
Kostya pulled her behind him, pointing his pistol up in the air.
“Don’t!” she pushed the barrel down.
He spun on her, “I told you don’t move.”
“What did they do to him?” she cried. “Did you see? What have they done to him?”
Her world was crashing down on her.
Kostya pulled his sister into a bone-crushing hug.
Time passed and Y/N didn’t stop thinking about Nikolai. Violent ideas of what the Darkling had put him through haunted her sleep, forcing her night after night to sit on her balcony, staring at the star-speckled sky for any sign of him. She wore the ring on a string around her neck, only taking it off to bathe.
One day, while she sat in a velvet armchair facing a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the lake, a knock came at the conservatory door.
Aksel entered, sweat soaking his clothes from cutting wood. Behind him, a Shu woman entered wearing what she assumed to be traditional Shu Han male clothing. An axe was strapped to each hip, among other small weapons. Her bare arms were covered in intricate tattoos, specifically surrounding that of suns.
“Y/N, this is Tamar Kir-Bataar. She is a friend of Nikolai’s.”
Y/N leapt from her seat, stealing herself at the idea of his death.
“It is very nice to meet you, Y/N.”
“Can I get you anything?” Aksel inquired. “Coffee? Tea?”
“No, thank you,” she smiled politely. “I appreciate your hospitality, Kapitan.”
“Why are you here?”
“Y/N,” Aksel reprimanded through gritted teeth, the same way he did to his own children.
Tamar only smirked but her face went back to a polite soldier-like expression. “Before I explain why I am here, you should know the Darkling was defeated and the Shadow Fold fell.”
A pit formed in her stomach.
“When?” Y/N asked.
“Almost two months ago.”
“And Nikolai?” her voice trembled.
“He is why I am here,” Tamar clasped her hands in front of her. “The King is still fighting his own internal war. He informed me that he visited you whilst infected with the Darkling’s nichevo’ya.”
Y/N’s lips parted, her fingers going to her necklace. Tamar’s eyes caught the movement, glancing to the ring, then back to her eyes.
“Before he was my King, he was my Kapitan. We experienced many things while sailing the True Sea and he always managed to bounce back.”
“But he hasn’t this time,” she whispered to herself.
Tamar nodded once. “He needs hope, Y/N. It is why I am here without his knowledge. After hearing the care he has for you… I feel you can best remind him of who he is.”
“It would be good for him to see you, Y/N,” Aksel chimed in.
Y/N looked from her brother, to Tamar.
“How do I know I can trust you to take me to him?”
“The first time you didn’t argue was when you told him about pasteurizing milk.”
A laugh escaped her at that. Y/N put a hand over her mouth. She looked to her brother, who smiled encouragingly at her.
Y/N made her way to the Grand Palace on the back of Tamar’s horse. She learned that Tamar was originally from Shu Han. She and her Grisha twin brother wished to join the Priestguard, but due to women not being allowed, her brother sacrificed his own dreams for her. After their mother died, they and their father moved to Novyi Zem to avoid the Second Army, where they were raised by the church until their father died. Y/N found herself easily sympathizing with Tamar and her anger toward the Priestguard. If men could do it, why couldn’t she?
Upon arriving at palace grounds, she wondered if she was experiencing the same anxiety Dominik felt everyday. She looked up at the tall buildings, squinting at the golden onion domes, and wondered if Dominik, too, felt small despite being surrounded by common servants.
When she entered the Grand Palace, her eyes widened down at the floor. The marble was so polished she feared she may slip.
“We will get you into more fitting clothes,” Tamar explained, “that way there are less eyes on you.”
For the first time in a long time, Y/N was dressed in trousers and a shirt. Her duties had changed since marrying so she was expected to abandon the farming lifestyle, including the accessories she’d grown so accustomed to. The new boots she donned clicked against the marble as they walked down corridor after corridor, her fear of slipping left with her old shoes in a random guest room of the Grand Palace.
Upon turning a corner, a very tall, muscular man came bounding toward them.
“You have returned!” he exclaimed, swinging Tamar around.
Y/N found herself smiling at the twins.
When he put his sister down, he smiled at her.
“Tolya, this is Y/N.”
Tolya bowed at the waist. “It is very good to meet you, Y/N.”
She could only manage a small smile, the nerves taking over in full-force once again.
Tamar sucked in a breath. “How is he doing?”
“All right,” Tolya sighed. “He didn’t seem to believe me. He said he’d have to have a word with you about treating your King with decency.”
Tamar rolled her eyes. “You were always a terrible liar.”
“You know I do not enjoy it and yet you continue to put me in positions that require it,” he argued.
Tamar ignored him, steering Y/N around him to direct her toward the door he’d previously been guarding. “We will be right outside.”
Y/N stared at the wood, unsure whether to knock or not. Impulsion took over her and she pushed it open. The room was large, about the size of their small farmhouse. In the middle of the room was a long wooden table with over a dozen chairs seated around it. Papers and maps were strewn across it. Nikolai sat with his head in his hand, face buried in paperwork at a desk just behind the table. His pale fingers where talons once protruded were masked by white gloves. His golden hair was mussed, curls hanging limp over his forehead.
Y/N found herself unable to speak. All words died as they came to her throat.
Nikolai looked up at her, then he leapt from his seat. His chair fell backwards, ink and water spilling all over his desk, but he didn’t pay any mind. His wide, ocean eyes bore into hers.
She was transported back to a time before fate was ever a thought in her mind.
“You’re here?”
She sighed, “Of course I am.”
“How are you here?”
Y/N had imagined this moment over and over again, ran through every sentence she could say, but now that she was confronting the question, no words in the Ravkan language fit the longing that burned in her chest.
Y/N crossed the room, their bodies colliding as she to wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms snaked around her middle, his nose hiding in her neck.
They stood there for a bit just holding each other. Eventually, Nikolai allowed himself to relax within the restraints of his terror. He squeezed her a little tighter, holding her a little closer, surrendering himself to her.
Later, Nikolai had food and drink brought to his solar where they ate dinner under the stars.
Y/N looked around the table at the silver cutlery, the crystal cups. Her eyes snagged on the moon beaming through the glass ceiling, the stars peaking out from the clouds.
“What is it?” Nikolai said. “What’s wrong?”
Her brows knitted together before registering the underlying panic in his tone. She offered him a soft, reassuring smile.
“The last time we ate under the stars was at the Barracks.”
Nikolai’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “That was an age ago.”
“It sure feels like it,” she looked down at her food, picking at the buttered peas.
She always hated peas, but she ate them because she respected Nikolai and his hospitality. She also felt bad not eating something people worked so hard to cook for her.
“I remember the Fold. What…” Y/N thought over her words very carefully, “What does it look like now?”
Nikolai cleared his throat, his fingers rubbing uncomfortably against the handle of his fork. “There are mixed opinions. It appears to be sand, though it is unusually coloured. It is grey. There’s a lifelessness to it. Locals and priests believe it to be magical. I say it’s a nightmare,” he said the last sentence with an air of incredulousness.
As she was about to ask what was to be done, he answered, “We attempted to excavate it but it runs too deep into the earth. The people of Ravka believe it is tainted by demons more and more every day, so they aren’t open to building atop it.”
Y/N leaned forward, “So we’re just supposed to use it as a tourist attraction?”
“We’ve thought about putting plaques to commemorate Alina and the other lives lost,” his head leaned thoughtfully. “There’s only so much people are willing to do at the moment. I’m more worried about rebuilding homes and returning what was lost.”
“I am sorry about Alina,” Y/N said, sitting back against the chair. “Truly. I know what she meant to you.”
Nikolai forced a smile, “She meant a lot to Ravka.”
“But she meant a lot to you.”
At his lack of eye contact, she asked, “What happened to her?”
“Hm?” Nikolai looked her in the eye, eyebrows raised.
“Alina. What happened to her, Nikolai? And her friend.”
“Oh,” he smiled, all regality and no Nikolai, waving a hand in dismissal. “A hero’s tale.”
She stared at him, waiting for something. Nothing came.
Nikolai resumed eating and Y/N resumed thinking.
“Do you remember when you visited me?” Y/N asked.
Nikolai nodded. “I remember seeing what seemed like a tasty meal, only to find out it was really a water nymph. I fear I may have proposed to it and it rejected me—rightfully so.”
Her shoulders sagged, head tilting as she sighed, “Nikolai.”
In the light of the candles, his cheeks flushed.
“I apologize,” he replied softly. “How careless of me. That was entirely inappropriate.”
“I’m not upset with you, I’m upset for you,” she explained, leaning forward again. “What happened?”
Nikolai put down his fork and knife, his glove-clad hands going to his thighs.
“He found us at the Spinning Wheel,” he sighed, gazing into his lap. “He used me as bait—to get to Alina.”
Y/N watched him, then raised from her seat. She hiked up her skirts as she kneeled before him. Gently, she took one his wringing hands and pulled off the glove. He sucked in a breath, his fingers tensing as she witnessed the state of his skin on full display. The talons had disappeared, but his nails were now black as night and matching inky veins wrought havoc over his pale skin. After taking the other glove off, she squeezed his hands, looking up at him in earnest.
“You must not hide yourself away, Nikolai,” she said. “You have come too far to cower.”
“You did not see the things I have done,” he whispered, tears straining his voice.
“You are more than what has happened to you, Nikolai. All right?”
His mouth opened, then shut.
“Stay,” he said. “Here. With me. You can marry me now that I am only half-beast.”
Y/N tilted her head in sorrow. As she stood, he stood with her, his hands resting on her middle. His eyes closed as her palm cupped his cheek. When she pressed her lips to the opposite cheek, he leaned in, his nose nudging her. He kissed the skin just before her ear then rested his lips against her temple.
“Please,” he whispered into her skin.
Y/N took his face in her hands. It was then that she finally saw the way he looked at her. Nikolai looked at Y/N like she was the wood holding up his craft in a storm. His expression was raw, undeniably open for her. She’d never seen him filled with such desperation and longing.
“You will find someone good,” she said, rubbing her thumb under his watery eye. “She will love you and bear you beautiful children and you will be proud of the life you lead. You will be content and this will be a story you share when they get old.”
A single tear fell from Nikolai’s eye. He hung his head, his hands squeezing her waist. The King’s mouth hung as he sucked in a shaky breath.
Y/N held him through the night and they said their goodbyes the next morning. As she rode away in the unmarked carriage, she watched him through the window until he disappeared behind the stone walls of the palace.
It would be years later that Nikolai and Y/N finally met again.
With the wars end and Nikolai Lantsov crowned King of Ravka, Y/N’s eldest brother’s family moved back into their family home to begin rebuilding the farm with a small sum of money and the choice of middle-class education for their children. Kostya’s family moved to a town a couple hours ride from the vacation home where their children also had access to middle-class education. Kostya worked for a local Count as a guard around his mansion. Y/N, however, remained at the home. She grew afraid of her childhood memories and she grew afraid of confronting her late husband’s family. She wasn’t alone, though, as Nikolai had sent a maid to live alongside her, whom she grew a friendship with. She taught Annika how to read and write, just as Dominik taught her. While content with the new life she was leading, she still felt like something was missing. Her laughter or smile would stop short when she would remember Nikolai and the fact that she did not know what he was doing anymore or if he was all right. She had forgotten his smell and had trouble picturing his face in her mind, but she could not forget his touch nor the way he made her feel. She longed for him—ached for him. So the day he appeared on her doorstep, soaked from the pouring rain, all words disappeared from her mind.
“Hello, lovely,” he smiled, shoulders tense and gloved hands fisted at his sides. “Mind if I come in? It’s a little wet out here.”
“Saints, Nikolai,” Y/N pulled the door opener wider, watching his shoes make muddy marks across the carpet. “Annika!”
Quick steps sounded from down the hall and then she appeared. Her eyes bulged and she froze, clearly off guard.
“Hello, Annika,” he greeted cheerfully. “Good to see you.”
Her mouth bobbed for a moment before she caught herself, curtsying deeply. “Your Majesty.”
“Annika, a towel,” Y/N said through gritted teeth. “Please.”
Nikolai spun around, observing himself in the mirror.
“You know,” he began, messing with his soaked hair, “many people would say the rain is dreadful but I find it quite exhilarating.”
After four years, he still sounded the same. Being King had made him appear more regal, more flawless, if it were even possible. He stood a bit straighter and his skin hugged his bones and muscles a little tighter.
“Oh Saints,” Y/N came back to herself.
She reached for his shoulders, spinning him to begin undoing the buttons of his jacket.
Nikolai said nothing, only watched her worry over him.
When he was left in only his white, painfully see-through tunic, Annika came rushing back.
“I will make some tea,” Annika said before hurrying away again.
“Let me get changed and I will meet you in the sitting room,” Nikolai said.
She nodded once, “Of course.”
She watched him leave the room, then seemed to get stuck there. Annika found her in the entryway, a small smile on her face.
“Why is he here?” Y/N said desperately.
“I don’t know,” she beamed.
“Why could he possibly be here?” the farmhand exclaimed.
“You’re upset.”
“I’m not upset I’m just… caught off guard! Do you—do you know something?”
Annika’s smile softened. She leaned on her hip, her head tilting. “I do not. Could it just be that he missed you after all these years?”
Y/N narrowed her eyes at her. “I have not told you about us. What has he told you?”
“A King allows a common farmgirl to live in his vacation home for as long as she so pleases, supports her family when asked, and supplies his farmgirl with his favourite maid… I am no spy, Y/N, but being a maid makes you highly skilled at reading people.”
Later, Nikolai entered the sitting room and sat down like he’d seen Y/N only yesterday. Being unable to sit still, she watched him from the window, toying with the ring around her neck. He poured himself some tea, now in dry clothes and his hair halfway to being dry. His hair was a little longer, only by a few inches, but it allowed the curls to come through in loose, almost perfect ringlets.
“So,” Nikolai began, “how are things? Are you enjoying Annika’s company? She was always a big help. We basically grew up together.” He brought the cup to his lips and momentarily closed his eyes as he swallowed. “Her mother was my mother’s maid. Practically ran the entire servant’s quarters, Saints rest her soul. You’re both very similar so I thought she’d be a fantastic fit.”
Y/N hesitated, her voice cracking as she stopped herself from speaking. “Nikolai, it has been almost four years,” she said.
“Yes,” he amended. “four years too many. You must tell me everything.”
Y/N’s lips remained parted as she regarded him with deep confusion.
“What are you doing?” she turned to face him fully, exasperated. “What is this? Why are you being weird?”
“I’m not being weird.”
“Yes, you are,” she emphasized. “I am not some member of your court.”
Nikolai, seeming to come back to himself, set down his tea cup on the table and stood.
His de-gloved fingers toyed with themselves.
“I have never made it a point to lie to you. I have withheld truths and left things unsaid but I recently made the vow to no longer do such things. So I ask you to believe me when I tell you I have given it all up.”
Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“The throne… the—the court, the crown. All of it,” he explained, taking a step closer. “We went through another war a couple months back and in that time…” He shook his head once, mouth bobbing. “I was kidnapped and beaten down and forced to face my demons and during that time” —Nikolai looked at her with such longing it made her chest ache— “all I could think about was getting back to you.”
Y/N’s breathing picked up, her shoulders tense with anticipation.
“Dom—” his face turned grave, his throat tightening. “Dominik’s last dying wish was for me to take care of you.”
Y/N let out a deep, shaking breath. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, but she kept her chin up and her eyes on his.
“He knew what we shared before either of us could ever understand it,” Nikolai said. “He made me promise to love you and to love you fully, as you are. And I do. I do love you… more than I can begin to express.”
Tears flowed from her eyes and down her cheeks, falling fast and plentiful. She hadn’t spoken of Dominik in years. She had never wanted to know the details of his passing but now, hearing that as the life left his body, her little brother only supported her, it made her feel ill. She laid a palm against her stomach, feeling her insides coil and churn.
“As I stared at the Fjerdan men kneeling before my General, I knew I had no reason to be afraid anymore. I may have been born amongst royalty, however, that is not my life. You are the other half of my soul and my whole purpose and you have always been. Dominik only made sure of that. Ravka will have a Grisha Queen. I own a home a couple hours ride from here in the Gilded Bog. Only those part of the Triumvirate know I own it. I’ve been having a good friend pretend it is his, so we may live peacefully and unbothered by the court. We may begin our life there while I work in its secret military base alongside the Grisha Triumvirate. The Queen has agreed to fund me and my family for the rest of time, so long as I provide my intelligence.”
Y/N was left speechless, feeling entirely unreal in the moment. She wasn’t sure whether she would pass out, vomit, or sink into the floor.
Nikolai, seeing the terror clear on her face, broke the distance between them. He cupped her face gently in his hands, pushing away the tears with his thumbs.
“This is when you finally agree to marry me,” he said quietly.
“I—” Y/N’s breath came out shakily as she stared into his eyes. “I am afraid.”
Nikolai smiled, “We can be afraid together.”
Please go read this I put my blood, sweat, and TEARS into this hoe 😩
Y’all PLEASE go follow critter’s acc ( @rootin-tootin-bitter-critter ). Disregarding the fact that we’ve been friends for years, I can say with absolute confidence that she’s an incredibly talented writer so she deserves all your love and support and requests!!!
gasp a testimonial already !!!
Always been ur number one fan
Y’all PLEASE go follow critter’s acc ( @rootin-tootin-bitter-critter ). Disregarding the fact that we’ve been friends for years, I can say with absolute confidence that she’s an incredibly talented writer so she deserves all your love and support and requests!!!
Here’s my @ bc Aria said the link wouldn’t open 😭😭😭 @wynnerwynner
