i think the first time you and joquin hook up, you're giggling. your face and ears are flushed, and you're giggling bc you can't believe this is actually happening. you're trying to make jokes about the situation you've gotten yourself into to ignore how you're starting to sweat bc doing this with him is actually a big deal for you. then you lock eyes and joaquin's not laughing. in fact, you don't think you've ever seen him so quiet. his eyes are roaming all over your face, drinking you in (is that the right phrase?) and you can see the redness on his cheeks and creeping up his neck. he tells you to cut that shit out and that's when you know this is just as serious for him as it is for you.
GOD i wish he was real😣
i can see this so vividly im gonna throw the fuck up.
he's sitting at the top of the bed, back lazily pressed against the stack of skewed pillows. he's almost completely naked, only one layer—the most important layer, keeping him from revealing everything to you. in no time, though, joaquín's boxers will slide off of his hips and join the pile of clothes on the floor, just as your bra and panties will, too.
you're working on that now, forearms wrapped around your back as you fumble for the clasp on your bra. it's taking you too long, even though it shouldn't. but you're nervous. you are so incredibly nervous and by trying not to show it, you're letting it show. hands shaking and fumbling, giggles coming from your lips, eyes avoiding contact.
you're so in your own world that you haven't even realized that joaquín is inviting you into his. not until he leans forward and places a hand on your bicep. just that one touch stops you.
"do you want me to...?"
your first instinct is to say no, but it would be foolish to do so. you're obviously struggling, why not just accept help? you nod and let your arms fall.
joaquín reaches around your back and places both hands on the clasp of your bra. he's close to you like this, not as close as when the two of you were kissing just minutes before this. but somehow this feels more intimate than before. sharing his air—lips hovering, his eyes staring at the bridge of your nose and, likely, your cleavage, your eyes finally just looking at the tan and clear skin of his face.
he's so pretty.
your bra is undone and you let it fall from your arms. joaquín does help a bit; he pulls the piece of material off of your arms and tosses it to the side of the bed. and then he just stares.
you're still feeling giggly, laughter is bubbling under your skin, and to try and avoid it you lean forward, cocking your head to the side enough to slot your nose with his. he kisses you back with lingering pecks. once, twice, and as you go in for a third he whispers against your lips, "hold on, hold on."
you're pulling back, eyebrows furrowed, wondering what could be wrong. "is something—?"
he shakes his head, big hands coming up to rest on your hips. "no. 's okay. just wanna look at you for a sec."
immediately, you're grinning, playfully punching his shoulder with not even an ounce of your weight or real intention behind it. you're giggling as you chastise him, jokingly telling him to hurry up and other things through a ramble.
he humors you for a second, lips splitting into a grin that always blinds you initially, but then he licks his lips and his smile drops to make room for an expression that's just a little more serious.
"no, no, no. let me just look at you. c'mon, be serious for a second. just sit there and look pretty. you've always been good at that."
and then your brain is spinning and you can't do anything but listen to him. sitting on your heels, tits out, letting joaquín stare at you. and yeah, his gaze is lustful, of course it is. but it's appreciative. he's admiring you, not for what you have, but for who you are.
as soon as he gives you the go ahead, you're climbing onto his lap and kissing him stupid.
roommate joaquín torres walks around commando in sweatpants and a tight shirt and doesn't think anything of it. the two of you are friends, close friends, and roommates. you're comfortable together. there's no reason why he shouldn't be able to walk around in sweatpants with no boxers and the first shirt he found on his floor early in the morning. besides, you probably don't even notice. not like you're looking at him that hard or anything.
but how could you not notice when he throws his phone in his pocket and his pants hang lower than they should and you see the V at his lower abdomen and the flaccid shape of his cock beneath the grey material? you would have to be completely oblivious to not notice how prominently toned his ass looks beneath his pants.
roommate joaquín torres who has his own logic and reasoning for walking around in a slutty little outfit and doesn't think to apply that same logic to you walking around in a big tee shirt with no bra and tiny shorts that barely show beneath the hem of your shirt. he tries not to notice the way your tits hang against the fabric when you lean down to get something from the cupboards closest to the floor. he tries not to notice the little bit of your ass that hangs out of the bottom of your shorts. but he would have to be fucking oblivious to not notice it.
the two of you really need to have a conversation about clothing boundaries eventually. or ... you could continue to suffer in silence because at least then you have some form of eye candy, right?
making one too many old jokes with STEVE ROGERS because you like the way he goes, “ha-ha,” so wryly, reluctantly following after you when you remarked on his bad back. you accuse him of being a “cradle-robber” for “dating someone my age” and he bows his head, shaking it, with that signature steve smirk… only to eye you through his brows in that cheeky way only he can do. effectively, he paralyzes you with a smolder. “there’s no such thing, you know that, right?” he reasons, striding next to you as you hold onto his finger like you’re making a play at being so much smaller and younger than him - pretending that all you can fit in your grasp is his index. “i’m not actually a hundred years old… if you could be a little more nicer to me about it—“ you can hear the playfulness in his voice n it makes you wedge a fingernail flirtatiously between your teeth. those eyes study you. “oh, you like that.” he damn-near purrs n it sends a hard shiver up your spine. you nod. so he adds, “keep messing with me n see what happens.”
trying to push adam off of you because you have to pee but he wants to see how long you can hold it in while he’s inside of you but he lowk hopes that you pee on him a little bit 🫤
