As an Avenger, you were level-headed and strategic and the team had meant everything to you, that line of work had meant everything to you. No matter how hard your missions got, or how the team had gotten into so many arguments when living at the Compound, or how difficult it was to be on the run for those two years, you had loved that line of work, that team, those people.

Even when times had gotten rougher, when the team split up and the Sokovia Accords made your life a little more harder to deal with, you never regretted any decision that you made. You had stuck to you decision, stuck to your opinion, and you didn't even care that it had landed you the run.

Everything you did had reason.

That's what you had to remember, even as you turned your back on the last remaining Avengers, the last remaining members of your little make-shift family, and set out to find somewhere else to live your life.

Because, after you and your team failed to save half the world, you found no reason to stick around and wallow in your regret and guilt. You needed to find some sort of change, and that had just meant turning your back on the relations you had built over the five years of being an Avenger.

Every second you spent at the newly empty Avengers Compound, you spent every moment wallowing in your regret and guilt, going over everything you could have done to spend more time with that team. With him.

He had been a constant ghost, a phantom, a wisp of wind that sent shivers down your spine and made you freeze in your spot.

As much as Sam Wilson was called ‘the falcon’ he had become a shadow, a ghost, a nightmare, almost. Your shadow, your ghost, your nightmare. He was everywhere at once, and yet nowhere at all. He soothed your aches in the comfort of night, but caused you all your suffering in the light of day.

And so, you had left New York, finally deciding to turn away from the sleepless nights and restless days. Unable to face the faded visions of what had been, you were determined to find someplace else to move on.

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. .

. . .

Cafe's weren't as populated and as crowded as they were a year ago, though, there a was little surprise in that anymore, half the world had just simply disappeared. Back then, before the population had decreased so dramatically, you would have been ecstatic to see a café so ghost-like. However, now, you just saw it as downright sad.

You had frequented this café for weeks now, seeing the same six, seven, eight people everyday. It was easy to start placing names to all the faces, but, maybe it was just that old training shining through in your newly civilian life.

You saw a Joseph in the mornings on every Monday and Wednesday, but in the afternoon on the Tuesday, and sometimes he would come in around lunch on the weekend with a name an Amelia who you would see often too. She would come in on the afternoons on Mondays and Tuesday, but would come in the mornings on Thursday, Friday.

There were these two girls, Ava and Mia, they looked much younger than you and, so you assumed that they must have been in college. They basically had the same routine and would come in almost every morning for, what it seemed to be, before they headed off to school. Then it was a hit or miss on the weekends, sometimes they showed up, sometimes they didn't, sometimes you would just see them walking past the café.

There was an older man called Jack, he was in the café almost everyday, though there would be the odd day where he was no where to be seen. It varied from the times, but he was mostly there in the evening, around an hour before they would close up.

Then there was two young adults, two guys called AJ and Harry. They would meet up in the afternoon, you had heard them talk about an apprenticeship, so you had assumed that they worked together. They would leave at the same time everyday, 8:15, saying that it was "time to go", which made you come to the conclusion that they were heading to work together.

The last name you had started hearing a lot was Joaquin, he was much more unpredictable at the most random of times. Despite having only being new to the neighbourhood, you had realised that he would just disappear. When you first moved, you saw him at the same café for about two weeks, but then he had stopped turning up for around four months, before he started showing up again.

You didn't linger on it, but you were curious to say the least. You liked being able to pick up on strangers' lives just by figuring out part of their routine and, when you couldn't figure it out, you liked giving them your own little story.

Meaning, in your mind, you had decided that this Joaquin fella had to go out of the state for those three months. Maybe he was visiting friends, family, people he hadn't seen in awhile. Maybe he was checking up on them, it's been hard times recently, so it made sense to start checking up on those remaining.

Regardless, Joaquin was in the café one morning, just as you were (along with one of the familiar faces you'd grown used to seeing, those two girls: Ava and Mia, and the man who was a regular on Monday and Wednesday mornings). You paid little attention to him, as usual, only having turned your head up when you had heard the door opened.

You had been mostly busy scribbling down your thoughts in an old journal, one you had from before the blip, but had mostly forgotten about it since becoming an Avenger. Though, since you were, technically, no longer an Avenger, you had more time to write down in it - more like you had actually remembered you had the thing.

However, you had decided that you were growing bored inside of the quiet place, deciding to finish your drink so that you could order a new one to go. That was when the door open, that familiar face of Joaquin walking over into the line.

Just on time, you thought. He always arrived just before you were leaving, or as you were leaving.

You shook your head slowly to yourself, you were making it a bad habit at checking the times that these regulars' were getting in, occasionally getting annoyed if they were too early or too late - not at them, mostly at yourself for getting so obsessed over other people's routines, though, it wasn't like you had really anything else to focus on.

You were given your drink, to which you muttered a quiet 'thank you' before taking it and walking out of the café. You had pulled out your phone so you could put in your earphones, but you had seen the array of messages from both Steve and Natasha. When you realised there really was no point in ignoring them, you stopped just outside the building you intended to walk away from.

You hadn't spoken to either of them since you left the Avengers behind, you weren't sure if it was because you had genuinely wanted to leave them in the past, or because they bought up too many past memories that haunted you at night more than they already did.

There had been a missed called from both of them, but Steve was more insistent to message you. You had known that Natasha was more willing to let you go on your own, knowing that you could take care of yourself and stay out of any trouble that may end up coming your way - and if you did get into trouble, you were more than capable to get yourself out of it. While, Steve was a little more worried about you, which you had assumed came along from the long time of you being friends with him.

Granted, they were both worried an equal amount for you, you had all lost everything, it seemed. But they had known how close you were with Sam, how you had started relying on him, and he on you, once the two of you had gotten together. Maybe that was why they were so adamant to keep attempting to contact you, no matter how many times you would ghost them.

Call me back.

Was the only message you had gotten from Natasha today, which you were tempted to do so. Maybe that could wait, though, you weren't ready to hear the pitying tone in her voice when she would be able to clearly see through your lies.

Steve had a few more, unlike Natasha. Now, he was the one you were less tempted to talk about, he was one who always wanted to check up on the people around him, talk about what was going on. You didn't want that, not yet, the wound felt too fresh, even if it had been just around six months since half the world disappeared.

Call me. You've got us to talk to You're not alone in this You've still got a place at the compound if you need it.

It wasn't the first time you had gotten a string of messages of similar phrases, he seemed insistent to try and get you to talk to them again. You couldn't blame him, of course, you had all been part of each other's lives for years and, when one goes off to ghost all of their remaining friends like you did, it was hard to not fret.

You shook your head regardless, thinking about calling one of them back when you got back to your apartment. You moved to put your phone back into your back pocket, starting to walk forwards as you did, even if you weren't entirely focused on what was in front of you.

Maybe you should've focused.

"Shi-" You gasped out when your face met someone's side, stumbling back as your drink fell out of your hand.

Before the guy you had collided into could even speak, you were already apologising profusely. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

“Hey, no, I’m sorry.” A deeper voice said, causing you to look up from where you were looking at the floor. It was one of the familiar faces, Joaquin. “I saw you standing there, didn’t think about what would happen if you moved.”

“Are you okay?” You asked quickly, noticing the spilled drink of yours everywhere on the floor. “You didn’t get burned, did you?”

The man was quick to shake his head, looking down at his attire as if to check. "No, no, I'm alright, are you?"

You ran your hand through your hair and let out a breath. "I'm fine, can't say the same for my drink, though."

The drink had splattered across the floor, the lid a couple inches away from the cup and the drink inside of it having made a massive puddle cross the concrete beside your feet. You sighed and picked up the cup and lid, placing the lid on back on and chucked in into the bin that was a few paces away from you.

"Let me buy you another one." He offered, watching as you placed your old drink in the bin.

You shook your head as you looked up at him, giving him a little laugh. "No, it's alright, thanks, though."

There was a beat of silence, you watched as his eyes fixated on yours, the gears turning in his head because his eyes lit up in recognition. You felt as your heart pumped faster and faster in your chest, knowing damn well that he was going to ask-

"You're... an Avenger, aren't you?" He asked slowly, his lips upturning into a little smile, his eyes raking over your whole figure as he starts recognising you. "You are. <<Reader's alias>>, right?"

Panic surged through your entire body, your eyes widened as you looked at the grinning man before you. You were quick to stumble over your words and give him a swift shake of your head.

You left him utterly confused when you swivelled on your heels and made a beeline away from him, unsure on where exactly you were heading, but sure that you were heading away from any mention of your past.

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. .

. . .

You spent three days avoiding that café, it was a silly thing, really. However, you didn't exactly want to be bombarded with questions from this guys and, eventually, have everyone find out that one of the Avengers is regularly sighted at your favourite café.

You did, eventually though, pluck up the courage to go again. You pushed off those thoughts as irrational fears, the world didn't exactly bombard your team as much as they used to and, yeah, maybe that was because half the world was gone, but maybe it was because everyone was too stuck in their depressive day cycles to really care about you anymore.

Well, that was what you had thought anyway.

Not this guy, no, he was interested in you, to say the least. There was about three seconds of peace where you sat, before you saw him quickly sit down opposite you.

"Oh?" You breathed out with an expression contorted into confusion, looking at his happy face when he settled down in front of you.

He gave you a smile as he slid a cup of coffee towards you, “For the one you dropped the other day, figured I owed you one for getting in your way, then scaring you off."

"You didn't scare me off." You tried to defend yourself, scoffing quietly as you shook your head.

"No?" He questioned, that grin still pulling on his lips, his eyes unmoving from yours. "When I asked if you were an Avenger, you looked like you saw a ghost and then ran off."

You cleared your throat faintly at that, shaking your head slowly as you cast your gaze subtly downwards. You forced a smile to pull on your lips when you looked back up, "I'm not an Avenger."

"Then... you were an Avenger." He tried again, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure you out.

"Well, yeah." You said slowly, shrugging your shoulders before you ran a hand through your hair. "But... I'm not now, so... rid yourself of any hopes and expectations you had of me because I'm just me, now."

The man before you was silent for a few more moments, but his eyes softened and his lips upturned into a smile. He lifted his hand and held it towards you, over the table. "Does this 'just you' have a name?"

"<<Reader>>." You said with a suspicious tone, but you took his hand and shook it, regardless.

"Joaquin." He introduced.

You gave him a little nod, pulling your hand away and resting it on the table. "Nice to meet you, Joaquin."

The two of you were able to fall into easy conversation, despite the fact that you had just met and despite the fact that you had - quite literally - ran from him the first time he had ever spoken to you.

You talked about simple things that day, where the two of you were living currently, what the two of you were doing ever since half the world disappeared. Then it had moved onto a few of the two of yours hobbies, likes and interests. The conversation had flown beautifully, like you two had known each other for a while.

Maybe it was just because you needed someone to talk to again.

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. .

. . .

You and Joaquin had met up at that café for several weeks after you had first met, the two of you would get a drink and sit inside and chat or go on a walk. It became a new type of routine, it became the new normal for you very quickly.

You had missed this type of connection, the one you used to have with Sam, or Natasha, or Wanda. Well, you had it with the entire team, of course. It was easy to lose yourself in all various different interactions with your team, it made the days easier to bear, made tough times a little less tougher.

It had been such a long time since you able to have that with someone, anyone. Joaquin seemed to have made this time easier for you, he made the world seem a little less grey with his bright smile and his bouncy energy. He was good at making your mood lift, he was good at making you laugh and smile and joke around.

Joaquin Torres was the light that scared off the shadow of Sam Wilson, he made you remember that the love of your life wasn't here anymore, made you remember that it was you and Joaquin in that moment - not with a lingering thought of none other than Sam Wilson that haunted you ever since that day.

Joaquin soothed the suffering that Sam's absence caused you in the day, and he had made you remember that there was still a chance to be happy, despite having lost so much in such a short amount of time.

Joaquin was able to find a way that made your mind fall silent, barren of its relentless thoughts, guilts and regret. He made you forget it all, down to the simple moments from your days as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, to the day that you lost your whole world in Wakanda. Without even realising it, he made your smile appear as much as it did before all you knew was darkness, he made you laugh as much as you did before, made you familiarise yourself with you all over again.

Joaquin Torres found a way to save you.

You two were able to find comfort within one another, which seemed rare these days. It wasn't simply Joaquin helping you get through your issues, your guilt, your regrets, the shadows of your past that stuck their claws into your back. No, with his career in the Air Force, with the people that he lost during the blip - your failure, Joaquin had also lost people, had also seen shit and, so, you had helped him as best you could.

It was transactional, such as any friendship would be, such as any friendship during this shared suffering that the world had. Everyone had one thing in common - one thing that you would otherwise assume that any regular civilian wouldn't have - and it was the lost of so many people in the span of a few mere moments.

"So," He started one day, while you were on one of your regular walks. "What was it like being an Avenger?"

The question had stunned you for a split second, you weren't entirely sure to handle the question anymore. Sure, you'd been asked it several times by family members you no longer talk to, old friends from your days as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, random interviews that you were forced to do when you first joined.

Back then, it was easy to answer. Now? It was a little harder now that you had failed your duty to save the world, to save your friends, your family, the people you had spent every waking say to, the people that you had trusted with your life. Now, it was hard to say because, well, you had failed as an Avenger. The title was meaningless because, after everything that has happened, being an Avenger didn't mean you weren't human. You were just like everyone else, just with flashy gear and a fancy title.

"It's no different to being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent." You had answered absentmindedly, it was the most common way you would answer.

Though, Joaquin tilted his head in confusion. Of course, he wasn't a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, so who was to say that it was different to being in the Air Force.

"Ah..." You started slowly, shrugging your shoulders subtly before rephrasing your answer. "It was... normal, well, to me at least. Y'know, go on missions, risk your life, protect others, mission reports, training. I'm sure you get it, kind of."

He nodded along to your words, and you supposed he got some of it with the work that he does, he spoke as you took a sip of your drink. "That's it?"

"What do you mean, that's it?" You laughed out, looking at him this time. "What? You expected something flashy?"

"Well, yeah! A little bit!"

You shook your head, looking down at the floor for a moment as the two of you continued your walk. Joaquin spoke on "I mean, what happened in DC, then in Sokovia, and you're downplaying it to be boring mission reports!"

It wasn't the first time Joaquin had accused you of downplaying all the - what he thought - exciting things you had gone through.

“It was… rough.” You said eventually, taking sometime to think. “There were a lot of times where the team didn’t agree on something or didn’t get along. And- and missions could get bad, and I mean bad.”

You shook your head, pausing for a second before you continued. “Don’t get me wrong, it had good moments, but… towards the end of it, it- it was tough to find a reason to stay.”

"Is that why you're here now?" Joaquin asked slowly, hesitant to push or ask certain things because, even in the short time the two of you had known each other, he could see how you were able to put up walls quickly when he asked certain things.

"I mean, it was hard to stay when I had all my friends." You chuckled out faintly, looking down at your feet and how Joaquin and you walked in step with one another. "So, it was definitely harder to stay when everyone either disappeared or left."

"I could imagine." He said with a little amused breath, but it soon fell short, "If it was hard to stay before everyone... well, y'know, why'd you stay for so long?"

"Aren't you just full of questions today?" You laughed quietly, nudging him with your shoulder slightly.

It was no denying that Joaquin was curious, always asking how it was to be an Avenger and trying to understand you more. You had originally chalked it down to him just being a fanboy over the Avengers, but ever now and then you were sure that it was something more.

"Ah, I stayed for so long because of-" Your voice had wavered for a moment before you cleared your voice and started speaking again. "-because of Sam, he made it easier to stay."

Joaquin didn't speak after, noticing the way that you were having a moment to speak about what had happened, about the stuff that you wouldn't even dare to think about anymore.

"I met him when a joined, and he just-" You sighed quietly, trying to keep your voice level, not wanting to cry now —not in front of Joaquin. "Ahem, y'know, he made life easier, made being an Avenger easier."

"You were close?" He asked.

You paused for a moment, nodding while you lightly shrugged your shoulders. "I mean, yeah. We, ah, we were together."

"Oh, so, yeah- yeah, pretty close." He said, tripping over his words subtly, but was swift to move past it.

"Yeah, just a little close." You laughed faintly, shaking your head slowly.

The silence that followed was tense, unspoken words lingered between the two of you. Your need to get the grief that was suffocating you off your chest, to talk about the man that you had loved because, for the longest time, you denied yourself the time to even think of him.

But there was something else, something that you couldn't name. The look on Joaquin's face, one that wasn't just understanding or pity, something that went past that, past the usual sympathy that people had when they know you've lost someone.

"I didn't know that anyone else on the Avengers were dating." Joaquin said with a slightly amused breath, "I thought only Stark had a public relationship."

"Ours wasn't public." You responded with, giving him a little shrug. "We kept it on the down low, kept it as something that was just ours, not the whole world's."

Joaquin couldn't argue with that logic, only nodding along. "That's fair."

The two of you had fallen into a silence, both of you unsure where to have gone from this topic, a topic that had caused you so much time wasted over crying and wallowing in self pity. You were sure that a lot of others shared in this grief, the chance that Joaquin had the same grief as you was incredibly high because the only thing the world was united on currently was their shared suffering.

.

. .

. . .

Joaquin and you kept hanging out, even after the initial high of first becoming friends. You would have thought that the fun of talking all the time was going to die down soon, that it was too good to be true and something else was going to come up and the tow of you were going to simply drift apart.

You had seen that happen with countless friendships that you had, there would be a high of talking all the time, then the two of you would drift apart until you didn't speak at all. With how well you were getting on with Joaquin, you were sure that this was just another one of those situations.

Maybe it was because of the world's circumstance, maybe it was because it was hard to really find anyone who was willing to be this happy with someone else despite half the world being gone, but you and Joaquin kept talking.

It got to a point where he would turn up to your apartment, and you to his. The two of you fell into a friendship that would have made anyone else think that you had been friends for years, not just a few months. Talking to him was just that easy, it was simple, it flowed, it was just that easy.

It had been another night, another time he had came over to your apartment, another night where you two would just talk about anything and everything that came to mind. Both of you sitting on your couch, laughing away, your drinks long forgotten on the coffee table in front of you and a show that played in the background that neither of you actually cared about.

You would have forgotten about your phone too, but it starting buzzing from it's place of the armrest. You had fallen silent at the sound, a little sigh as you saw 'ROGERS' as clear as day on the screen.

You remember the times that you had changed his contact to whatever joke that the team were making fun about him at the time, before you had settled on 'CAP'. Though, after your team failed disbanded after the Sokovia accords, you kept it as his last name. Back then, you would have gladly picked up the phone, but now? Now it sent a pang of pain through your body, like you had been stabbed.

Whenever you saw his, or Natasha's name, you just remembered how you failed at your duty as an Avenger. You remember everyone who had been lost, everyone that you had lost. You remember the late night talks you would have with different members of the team in the compound, the training sessions that would end up in fits of laughter when you were with the right people.

You think about Sam, you think about the first time you had met. It seemed like it was nothing when you first saw him, in a car with Natasha as the two of you went to pick up Steve before a mission, seeing the guy he had met while he was on a run. You think about how willing Sam was to get back into something he had left just because the three of you were in trouble, you think about how quick the two of you were to become friends, you think about the numerous times he would playfully flirt - even before either of you knew if the other was even into guys.

You think about your first date, your first kiss, you first everything. You think about how he was so swift to cheer you up because he was the first one to notice if you were upset. You think about how he would hold you after a rough mission, or how he would kiss you when either one of you got back from said rough mission.

You think about him, about you, about where you would have been in life right now had it not been for Thanos.

"You need to take that?" Joaquin had asked, making you remember that he was sat beside you, making you remember that you had company, making you remember the reality of everything.

You shook your head, clearing your throat as you blinked away tears that you didn't realise were forming in your eyes. "No."

You declined the call, placing it back on the armrest before turning back to Joaquin. Though, you saw his furrowed brow and the worried look that was as clear as day in his eyes.

"What?" You asked, trying to play off any noticeable show that you had to say that you were upset, or that you were so close to zoning out about Sam Wilson once again.

"You're crying." He said so faintly that you weren't even sure if you were hearing him. Your hand was quick to go up to your face, wiping away the stray tear that betrayed you.

You cleared your throat and shook your head as you tried to compose yourself. "God, uh, yeah, no... Yeah, I'm good."

"<<Reader>>." He said with a sort of firmness in his voice that made you almost want to open up this time.

You had opened up to numerous times before, but it was always the lighter stuff. It always ended up being things that the two of you could relate to, like tough missions and days where you just wanted to give up because the training was taking way too much out of you. You never really talked about the Avengers stuff, not in depth anyway, and you had never spoken to him about Sam unless it was in passings.

"I haven't spoken to them in a while." You said with a little shrug, your hands crossed over your chest as you pulled your knee up to your chest, a defensive pose without a doubt, but one that you used to try and give yourself that ounce of comfort.

"The Avengers?" He asked.

"What remains of them."

His eyes bored so deep inside of your soul, you were almost creeped out about it. You knew how intently he would listen, he was so quick to focus in on what you were saying, whenever it got serious. His eyes would lock on yours, giving you all the attention that he had, unwavering.

He kept his responses quick and short whenever you opened up, like he wanted to make sure you wouldn't cower within the tall walls you had built around yourself after everything you had gone through. "Why?"

You shrugged your shoulders slowly, the words spiralling around your head as you mentally tried to grab them and string together a sentence that wouldn't cause you to break down crying but would give Joaquin the answers he was looking for.

"Every time I see them, or- or see their names..." You trailed off for a moment, feeling the lump in your throat that you so desperately didn't want to deal with right now. "..I dunno, I'm reminded of... everything."

You shook your head slowly, clearing your throat as you stood from the couch. You picked up the two, long forgotten drinks that you and Joaquin hadn't had sip of in ages.

"You want another drink?" You asked, already walking away into your kitchen and Joaquin had nodded with a gentle 'sure'.

That was probably the most you had ever really opened up about the deeper stuff, the stuff that Joaquin would probably have a harder time relating to because he wasn't an Avenger and he had never had an experience where his failure caused half the world to fucking disappear.

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. .

. . .

You had almost forgotten how to be a normal person.

You never knew how much you really meant that until you were living as a civilian again, you never knew you how much you meant it until it was the blip.

You had spent years of your life, years, having a fixed routine, one that didn't waver. A routine where you had set training, set missions, one too many cups of coffee to keep you going throughout the day, and a kink in your back that you could never seem to get rid of. Then, you had spent even more years of your life as an Avenger with a less strict routine, but one still as harsh as it was when you were a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

It was an adjustment, to say the least, when you were considered 'normal' again, when you no longer had the pressure of that meaningless title breathing down your neck: Avenger.

When you first distanced yourself with your hero-self, you had stayed in your apartment for months, unmoving from your bed, only switching between your bed to the bathroom to the kitchen. You would have a bottle of vodka as your closest companion, and you would have the reflection of yourself taunting you with how bad you started to look.

Then, you decided to move out. You thought that was the best decision you had made in a very long time. You fixed yourself up quickly, forcing a harsher routine on yourself, like you had been so used to for about a decade and a half.

Still, you felt like you weren't a normal person, because you weren't, not really.

You only started to find yourself in all the little things that you used to enjoy when Joaquin showed up, and you hated to admit it. He made you feel alive again.

It wasn’t in grand measures, like he got your heart racing and your adrenaline pumping, no. He made you feel alive in the smaller things, like how he made you laugh, or like how he could easily make you feel better. He made you feel human again, he made you remember how to function outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, he made life a little more bearable.

You never really thought you would be able to fall back into the swing of being a civilian again, not after living so long as an agent - and shortly becoming an Avenger. It never seemed possible, not with the endless drills you had tucked away in your mind, and not with the hundreds of paranoid thoughts you had of people coming after you, or which way would be the best for a quick exit when you were just trying to sit in a café, or go on a walk.

Knock, knock, knock.

Speak of the devil and he shall come, you thought, but... well, in this case it was speak of Joaquin and somehow, just somehow, he is able to rock up.

"It's unlocked, Joaquin!" You called out from where you were stood in your kitchen, having been making yourself a cup of tea.

You heard the gentle ‘click’ of the door opening, and the squeak of it, shortly after you called out. Joaquin emerged with a big grin on his face, his usual joyous mood never seeming to waver, despite the early hour.

“Morning, <<Reader’s alias>>.” He greeted, closing the door behind him before he walked over to where you were standing in your kitchen.

You tilted your head with a confused smile on your face, he didn’t often call you by your hero name. “Morning, Torres. What do you want?”

“What? I don’t want anything!” He said with a defensive tone of voice, putting his hands up as if he had been caught red handed doing something. “What makes you think that?”

“Why else would you come in calling me by what the Avengers called me?” You snorted, turning around so that you were facing him, resting your hip against the side.

He opened his mouth to speak before pausing, shrugging and nodding his head slowly. “Okay, well, fair, you caught me.”

“Knew it.” You muttered under your breath with a smug grin pulling on your lips, turning around taking out the tea bag from your mug. “You want a drink?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” He cleared his throat, taking a moment before he decided to speak up again. “I’ve been thinking—”

“—uh oh.” You mused.

“Hey, no, c’mon, listen.” He said with a laugh.

You motioned with your hands for him to continue, which he did with a little nod of the head. “You remember when you told me that you haven’t spoken to the Avengers in a while…?”

The mention of your old team caused you to freeze, your heart dropping to your stomach. “Joaquin.”

“No- no, listen, listen, I was thinking—”

“—No, Joaquin. C’mon, man, you know my thoughts on talking to them again.”

“Yeah, well,” he sighed faintly. “You once told me that they were the only family you had, I just want to—”

“—It’s really not your place, Joaquin.”

You got him there, and he knew that it wasn’t his place to try and resolve whatever was going on between you and your team. But he liked you, he’d grown close to you through the months of knowing you, and he saw the conflict behind your eyes - even if you never admitted to it.

“No, it’s not.” He said plainly. “But, c’mon, I know you miss them. I can see it when you talk about all those old missions with them.”

“I do miss them.” You admitted, eyes unmoving on his, and he saw the cold expression that your face held. “But I don’t miss the guilt I had on my shoulders in the beginning of all… this..”

You cleared your throat, looking down for a moment, taking a breath to compose yourself. It was nearing two years since half the world disappeared and you had known Joaquin for eight months of it. He hadn’t seen the real reaction that you had when talking, of even thinking, about your old team.

And you weren’t sure you wanted to let him see it.

“<<Reader>>.” He said slowly, tilting his head downwards slightly so that he could get a glimpse of your face. “I’ve known you a while now, and I know when you put those walls up again. But don’t let now be another time you do that.”

You looked up at him slowly, letting out a long sigh. “Joaquin, there’s a reason I build walls, and there’s a reason they go back up when you’re here.”

“What- what’s that supposed to mean?” He questioned, eyes narrowing down at you.

“It means—” you cleared your throat. “—it means that I’ve known you eight months now, and there is a decade of baggage from being an Avenger that I don’t want you to know, and I don’t know if I ever want you to know it.”

The man before you didn’t open his mouth to speak, don’t utter a single word, and didn’t move an inch. He could understand it, you knew he could, because you both had similar careers and you both knew what it was like to see shit that no normal person would understand.

“Okay.” He simply said after a few seconds.

“Okay?” You echoed

“Okay.” He repeated with a small nod of the head, “I get it, but if you ever want to talk about it, you know I’m here for you.”

You gave him a little smile, before nodding slowly. “Thanks.”

.

. .

. . .

Joaquin was swift to fall back into your old routine, not asking or pushing any further on the topic that the two of you talked about the pervious day.

You were thankful for it, really, because you were sure that you had come off rude that day —you definitely did, but you couldn’t lie you were remembering it worse than it actually was. Joaquin was a sweet guy, and he was incredibly understanding, but you were sure he wasn’t going to understand fully.

You used to be an Avenger, it was your job to protect the world from harm and you had been doing it for years before Thanos made an appearance. Yet, when the world needed it most, you failed in your sole duty to protect and save the world from a threat.

You had been carrying that on your shoulders ever since the day it happened, and you were sure you were going to keep carrying it on your shoulders until the day you died.

Joaquin should have never seen the crack in your walls to even seen the glimpse of the guilt that you carried, that guilt was not his and it was never going to become his —no matter how much he tried to reassure you that you could talk about that day, as much as you would talk about every other day.

“Okay, new question.” Joaquin said one day when the two of you were hanging out —it was becoming more and more frequent, but you couldn’t complain because he was your only friend right now.

“Oh God.” You laughed out, shaking your head slowly, turning to face him again. “Really? Again? Is it gonna be about the Avengers again because, at this rate, I’m pretty sure that you’ve gotten all the stories.”

He shrugged slowly, thinking for a moment, as if thinking back to if he has asked this question before. “No, it’s about you- ah, well, I guess it’s about the Avengers?”

“Go on then.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“How did you even get into the Avengers?” He asked, eyes narrowing at you. “No offence, but you’re pretty ordinary in comparison to the others. No special gimmick like flying, turning into a green giant or being alien. Unless… you’ve got something to admit?”

“Nope, nothing special that I’ve been hiding from you.” You chuckled, shoving your hands in your pocket. “I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. is all, just like Barton and Romanoff, they were agents first and then became Avengers. I joined around 2015, when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, got told they needed me, well, needed an extra pair of hands.”

“And you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. because…?” He asked.

“Well, why’d you join the Air Force?” You asked in return, and it looked like the question stunned him for a moment.

He took a moment before smiling faintly. “I wanted to be a hero, thought it was the best way of going about it.”

“Like Sam?” You asked, causing him to get embarrassed at it —he once mentioned it before he knew you had dated him, ever since he found out the two of you were an item he started getting flustered when you bought it up— and you laughed at the reaction. “But, exactly. You wanted to be a hero, wanted to do something good. S.H.I.E.L.D. was my way of doing that, like how the Air Force was your way of doing that. Only S.H.I.E.L.D. approached me and recruited me because, well, they keep tabs on ‘extraordinary’ people.”

“If this your way of showing off you’re not actually ordinary?” Joaquin joked, nudging you with his elbow.

You pushed him back, laughing along with him. “Maybe, but I will admit I’m ordinary in many cases. I was just a good agent, that’s why I ended up becoming an Avenger.”

“You were just that good.” He teased, causing you to roll your eyes.

“You’re getting it now.” You grinned over at him.

You couldn’t help notice how you were smiling a lot more now, more than you ever had in the past two years. You had noticed before that Joaquin made you start noticing the little things about you, made you feel like a normal person again, but you never noticed how much he actually made you feel again.

Maybe he was the outgoing, maybe he was just that talkative. You had seen Joaquin hit it off with so many people over the eight months of knowing him, so you weren’t exactly surprised that he was doing the exact same thing with you.

And maybe it was time to notice that he was slowly chipping away at those walls of yours, and that was why he kept ended up getting glimpse of the darker side of you.

Joaquin was a determined man as well, anyone could see it in his work and how he acted as a person —strong willed, confident and everything that made a good person good. It was only a matter of time before he won in the little game of going back a forth, him trying to find cracks big enough for you to open up and you immediately filling in those cracks so he couldn’t.

The idea panicked you, the idea of Joaquin finding out how you truly were when you had barely known him a year. Sure, Sam took less time to chip away at your walls, but that was years ago and you definitely didn’t have as much baggage as you do now.

The situation felt the same, it felt almost the exact same.

You were the same when you met Sam, walls so high that the sun couldn’t even shine its light on you, walls so high no one would ever be able to climb over them. Sam, though? Sam bought a chisel to those walls, taking little pieces from it everyday so you couldn’t notice until he was standing in front of you.

Joaquin was the sam, only he didn’t have a chisel, he had a hammer instead and was making enough process each day that you couldn’t fill up the cracks quick enough.

Either way, you already knew that Joaquin was going to end up with the same end as Sam did: standing in front of you with that big grin when he finally got through your walls. It wasn’t though climbing over them, or taking them down brick by brick, it was through simply making a hole big enough for them to slip in.

And you waited for the day Joaquin got though with a heavy heart, wondering how much you could put it off, even though you knew he would be able to do it with or without your attempts to stop him.

.

. .

. . .

It was the two year mark of half the world disappearing, and you knew exactly how to deal with it.

The bar hadn’t been as busy as you thought it was going to be, but you assumed most people were mourning in their own homes instead trying to drink away their sorrows.

Through these two years, you had unwilling built your tolerance to alcohol, so you were just about tipsy even though you were —at least, you believed you were— downing your drinks pretty damn quick.

Your head in your hand, nursing your drink close to you as your mind rushed through several different memories, dozens of what if’s and hundreds of regrets.

“<<Reader>>?” You heard, causing your head to slowly uplift to the direction of the voice.

“Torres.” You said with a little nod, straightening yourself up as you tried to look a little more sober than you were.

“Seems we had the same idea.” He said with a little hum. “Mind if I join you?”

You shrugged your shoulders faintly. “Go for it.”

He silently sat beside you, ordering a drink before falling quiet again. Neither of you said anything at first, there was already the understanding of the shared grief that you had.

“I didn’t know you would be the type to drown your sorrows.” You spoke up first, chin in the palm of your hand, but you didn’t look over at him, keeping your gaze fixed on the counter.

“I’m not usually.” He replied simply. “Not much else to do, though.”

You hummed at that and said nothing more.

The conversation that night was the worst one either of you ever had, typically one of you would be okay enough to comfort the other, but you supposed that this was a good enough reason to stay silent.

So, neither of you spoke, not more than you had to anyway. What was the point? You both knew why the other was there, why the other was drinking and why no conversation flowed. This was the death-day of too many people to count, too many people to remember, the people you failed.

You thought back to Sam most of the time, how much time you had lost with him because you failed as an Avenger. You two were talking about marriage before half the world disappeared, would you two be newlyweds by now if he hadn’t died? Would you have your own house? That picture perfect life as husbands?

Now you were back to square one, the same place you were at before you were and Avenger, hell, since before you were S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Alone, miserable, without purpose.

What was the point in this now? You had nothing else to offer to the world anymore. When you were an agent, at least you were still making a difference, even if people didn’t know that you were an agent. Now what? You’re unemployed, alone in an apartment, and probably going to end up bankrupt because you spend any depressing day in the bar, or huddled up in your room with a bottle of whatever you could get your hands on.

“You think we’re ever gonna get used to this?” You had asked Joaquin when you finally started to feel the effects of your many drinks. “Think we’re ever gonna adjust properly to everyone being gone?”

Joaquin turned to look at you, he was very much more sober than you, and he could see how drunk you were now. “Probably not, how can we?”

“How can we?” You repeated faintly, rubbing your face with one of your hands. “How can we?”

You inhaled sharply, and you could feel Joaquin’s eyes on you, they didn’t once move away now that you’d made it clear you weren’t yourself.

“How is anyone still… functioning?” You asked rhetorically, motioning a hand out with furrowed brows. “I mean- I was… a mess, and now I see everyone else and it’s like… how are you not screaming? How- how are you not losing your mind? How can you go outside and go about your day?”

“Because…” he started slowly, pausing as if he was looking for a reason himself —but unlike you, he had one. “We carry on for those who can’t, try and live as much as we can to make up for those who aren’t here.”

You groaned frustratedly, though, shaking your head. “But it doesn’t make sense, how does that fix anything? They’re still gone, nothing is going to make up for that.”

Joaquin couldn’t say anything in response to that because, really, you were right in the matter. What was the point of saying that those who remained carried on for those who died that day? What does it change? They’re still gone, they still disappeared, there wasn’t even bodies left behind to bury.

“How can I?” You muttered faintly under your breath, looking down at your hands. “It was my job to save you, I spent years of my life protecting people and yet…”

You sighed, eyes closing for a moment when they started to burn. You were drunk, but you were aware enough to know you never wanted to cry in front of Joaquin, not yet anyway.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Joaquin spoke up, his voice low and quiet, only for you to hear. “It’s not your fault, you tired to stop it.”

“I failed to stop it.” You said with a scoff, your eyes tearing up when you turned your head to look at Joaquin’s sympathetic expression. “And then I abandoned my title of Avenger because… what? Because I failed? Because the one job I had, I couldn’t do it? Because I lost my friends? My family? The love of my life?”

You shook your head slowly, your gaze falling to the counter. “I wasn’t the only one who lost someone, so why do I act like I am?”

Joaquin didn’t say anything at first, and you thought that he wasn’t going to at all, that you had won and now you had just permanently bought the mood down

“Because it’s personal.” He said simply. “This time you lost someone.”

Your lip quivered subtly, you sniffed and tried to stop yourself from looking like you were going to cry. Failing too, of course.

“Talk about him.” Joaquin encouraged.

You turned to look at him, eyes narrowing at him. “What?”

“Sam.” Joaquin said with a little shrug. “I have never heard you talk about him, you dodge it all the time. Maybe… it will help with all this.”

“I- well, I don’t know. What am I meant to say?” You questioned with a forced laugh, wringing your eyes with your sleeve to try and get rid of any of the tears that might have fallen.

He shrugged. “Anything.”

“He-” you started hesitatingly, shaking your head once more. “He was my friend, he… he was there for me when I felt like I was losing myself. He was the longest relationship I had, the- the best person out there… he…”

You felt the tears prickling in your eyes again and you cleared your throat, though it did nothing. “He was everything to me, he was the love of my life. Now he’s gone and… and I don’t know how to breathe.”

You were swift to wipe the tears away from your cheeks, sniffling as you tried to figure out what more to say. “He… he’s everywhere. I- I can’t go out without seeing him… I- I hear him.. I see him.. I just-”

“I wanted a life with him.” You whispered with a broken voice. “I wanted everything with him. I wanted a wedding, a-a house, one of those big ones where we have too much space and, yet, none at all. I- I wanted to argue over what colour curtains we had, and- and if we should get a dog. I… I wanted a life with him.”

“And I wish that it was me instead of him.” You muttered. “He had a family, one he was actually close to. Why… why take him away from that family? I don’t have anyone, if I was gone no one would-”

You finished the thought there, not wanting to elaborate further. You knew how dark your mind could get when you were in a state such as this, and there was no way in hell that you wanted to tell Joaquin any of that.

Joaquin only spoke up when he was sure you were finished speaking. “You want me to take you home?”

“Yeah.” You said so faintly you were surprised he even heard.

.

. .

. . .

After that… depressing night, you had made it a point to try and avoid Joaquin at all costs. You weren’t exactly impressed with yourself after the little breakdown you had with him, not exactly remembering what had happened.

You woke up the next day with a raging hangover, and barely any recognition of what happened after you started tearing up to him. You remembered vaguely about what you said to him about failing as an Avenger, but after that? Nothing. Blurs of teary words, and unclear vision.

You had no idea how you were meant to face him after that because, well, he probably remembered more than you did, and you knew you never wanted him to see that side of you.

You were kicking yourself at the fact you slipped up, very noticeably so, even though you had told yourself that you weren’t going to, that you couldn’t slip up.

Joaquin Torres had seen the one part of you that you didn’t want anyone else to see, a part that took a considerable amount of coaxing from even Sam to bubble up to the surface.

You could barely remember anything from that night, memory failing you the moment he asked if he should take you home. That was one of the things that scared you, how much more had you gone on about Sam? How much more did you cry? How long did you babbled and cried and sobbed?

You shuddered at the thought, shaking your head as you tried to clear your head, tried to go on about your day. Joaquin was pushed to the back of your mind, as far back as you could push it, you refused to let it resurface for, if it did, you were sure you going to drown in embarrassment and regret - as much as you had been already these past two years.

Two days had passed until you heard word from Joaquin again, but it had not been through call or text, not since you had been ignoring them entirely. Though, you had to admit you had appreciated the worry that he expressed, even if you were busy convincing yourself you should distance yourself from the man.

You sighed as you got up once you heard the door being knocked on, of course when you had just gotten comfortable your parcel had to arrive.

You unlocked your door and opened it, mouth agape when you saw who was there.

“You’re not my parcel.” You said with a mutter.

Joaquin chuckled, looking down at the floor for a moment before he looked up at you again. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Do you not take a hint?” You asked faintly, rubbing your face.

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Unless you tell me, outright, to leave you alone, I’m not going to.”

But you knew that you weren’t going to tell him to leave you alone, not after the time he spent making you feel like yourself again. You didn’t want him out of your life, but you didn’t want him to see too much of the… darker side.

“Joaquin…” you sighed faintly.

“Say it.”

You didn’t say anything though, shaking your head instead, but it wasn’t answer enough for him.

“Tell me to go.” He prompted. “Or… anything. Tell me anything.”

“I…” you paused for a moment. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go either.” He admitted faintly, but you sensed there was an underlying confession in the statement, and it was one you knew scared you.

“Joaquin, I…” you breathed out, shaking your head slowly.

“No, please,” he said with a desperate tone in his voice. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking about this. About you. I- I had a whole thing planned.”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him from going on.

“I know you still love Sam.” He said slowly, his gaze unmoving from yours. “I know that, trust me, but… I don’t want to keep sitting here and ignoring what I feel for you.”

There is was.

“Joaquin..”

“<<Reader>>,” he said softly. “You- you don’t even have to say anything, but I just… I just needed you to know.”

You sighed faintly, head falling down to the floor, but you looked back up with a little smile. “Coffee. Down where we met? Tomorrow?”

The way Joaquin’s face brightened immediately made your heart swell, but you were swift to try and stuff the feeling back down.

You weren’t entirely sure what came over you that day, when you put together a time and place for a date with Joaquin. Maybe it was impulsive, maybe it was stupid, but maybe… Maybe it was a good start, a good start to love on, to forget your old life —or, at least, start a new one.

It had been two years after all, and you were slowly finding your feet in this new world, in this new reality, and Joaquin helped with that process.

Hell, you were nervous though. You hadn’t been in a proper date in four years, too busy with work and the world being in danger to actually go on one with Sam after the two of you hit your one year anniversary.

You could barely remember what you were meant to do, would it be the same as any other time you and Joaquin hung out? Would it be different? Would he be diving more deep into your past? Dive deeper into your hopes, fears, and dreams? Would you let him?

You tried your best to push those worries to the back of your mind, and it worked! The time you and Joaquin spent together went fine, it felt like any other time you two talked to each other, it was carefree, fun, enjoyable.

You wondered if that was how it felt like when you dated Sam, it had been such a long time since you thought back to when you first started dating.

The coffee date turned into walking around mindlessly (you two joked about getting a daily walk so neither of you felt miserable), and it really did feel like any other time you two went out together. Nothing had really changed, thankfully, but you noticed how he walked that much closer to you.

Though, something was weighing on your mind, and you felt that you had to tell Joaquin as soon as you could.

"Joaquin," You started when you found a decent timeframe. You took a deep breath to steady yourself, your gaze fixated forwards so that you didn't have to look at the eyes of Joaquin, who most definitely had those big doe-eyes. "I just... I want you to know that... You were right, I still love Sam."

"Are you going to—"

You shook your head quickly. "It's not what you think I'm going to say."

Then, you finally looked back at him. "I still love him, of course I do, I spent four years with him, but... I'm always going to love him and I knew I was when the blip first started. The only difference is... at the start, I didn't think I would want to try something with anyone else."

"And now?" Joaquin asked faintly.

You smiled a little at him. "Now, I'm willing to try."

"I'll take willing to try." Joaquin said with a firm nod and a new smile pulling on his lips.

You thought that, maybe, just maybe, this might be your ticket to finding yourself a new type of normal again. A type of normal that was unfamiliar to you, like an old acquaintance that you haven't seen since before you were a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

You didn't voice it, though, you never had said anything to Joaquin how much he helped you feel alive again. You didn't want to scare him off when you first met, and now you don't want to scare him off because the two of you were dipping your feet into new waters.

.

. .

. . .

It was one a the evenings where you and Joaquin started to lose track of time again, when the sun started to make its steady descent, and Joaquin offered to take you back to your apartment. You tired to tell him that is was alright, that you didn't need tom be walked home because, by the time he made it home, it would be dark.

"It's fine, <<Reader>>, just let me walk you home." He laughed out, you were half convinced he was trying so hard because you were now you two were dating and he was desperately trying to be a gentleman towards you.

"You text me when you get home, though." You ordered as you and Joaquin walked up the stairs to your floor. "I'm not having it if I find out you died on the way home tomorrow morning."

He snorted out at that, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "I cannot believe that, after all this time, you still have such little faith in me."

"And, yet, here you are walking me home when it's, like, an hour away from your place?" You questioned with a laugh, "Joaquin, you expect me to not worry if it's that far?"

"Oh, so you're worried about me now?" He asked with a smug grin on his face.

You shook your head and pushed him away by the shoulder playfully, "Oh, shut up, Torres."

"No, no," He didn't move all that much, despite your nudge, and immediately his eyes fell onto yours. "I wanna hear more about how you're worried about me when I'm going home."

"I'm a paranoid ex-avenger, is that what you want to hear?" You asked with an amused scoff, eyes meeting his gaze as well.

He made a small 'ehhh' noise, but you saw how his smile was still as amused as yours was. "You know what, I'm going to read in between the lines and take it."

You chuckled along with him, walking down your hallway until you reached your door. You turned around, your back facing your door as you gave him a softer smiler. "Well, this is me."

"This is you." He said with a faint hum, his eyes lingered on yours though, and you found yourself unwilling to say goodbye yet.

"I'd invite you in," You started with a chuckle, "but, knowing us, it'll be long past dark by the time you want to leave."

"Bold of you to assume I would want to leave." He said in response.

You rolled your eyes, this time, waving his statement off with a hand. "Yeah, yeah, Torres. Real smooth, that work with everyone?"

"Nah," He said, rubbing the back of his neck, "but it was worth a try, right?"

You felt your heart start to pound inside of your chest when the thought of kissing him goodbye crossed your mind, you wanted to push it to the back of your head and try and ignore the idea of it, you didn't want to rush anything after all.

Though, you were struggling to find another way to end this interaction, every time he walked you home the two of you were met with awkward farewells, and every time you felt the interaction haunt your sleep.

"I'm gonna ask it outright," You suddenly said, clearing your throat as your eyes found themselves cast downwards. "I don't know how to do this early relationship stuff, kinda forgot, but I really want to kiss you right now and I don't know when a good moment is."

When you looked up again, you saw how the confession caught him off guard for a split moment. But, after that split second, his face beamed with joy.

"Now is a good moment." He said with that grin on his face.

You could only hear the pounding of your heart in your ears as Joaquin's hands found your sides, taking a steps closer to you until your face were only inches away from each other. Your hands round their way to his shoulders, testing the waters of where you should put them.

You felt the way his nose brushed against yours for a moment, his breath on your lips before you parted them slightly. His eyes darted between your eyes and your lips, as if taking double checks on whether or not you wanted this —even though, you were the one to bring it up.

Once your lips met, your eyes closed and you found yourself being lost within the slow kiss. It was only slow, there was nothing more to it, it was steady as you two found yourselves becoming comfortable in this new intimate action.

The kiss came to an end, and you pulled away only a inch away from him, eyes landing back on his brown ones. You couldn't help as your lips upturned into another smile, no doubt giving away how happy you felt after that.

You saw how his own smile spread across his face and as he laughed out faintly. "So... I'll see you later?"

"See you later, yeah- yeah." You said back. "Text me when you get home."

"Will do." He said with a grin, before taking slow steps backwards as you unlocked your door.

.

. .

. . .

Joaquin had been away for about six months, you understood that —even though half the world was gone— his job was demanding. You had a brilliant time with him, but you knew that it was going to be short lived.

It was only a shame it had to happen two months after you started dating, because now you remembered how it felt to miss someone when you were in the “honeymoon phase” of a relationship.

You went about your days as normal, trying to remember how you went about them before you met Joaquin and without constantly messaging each other. You two texted and called, of course, but it was only when he wasn’t busy, or you messaged him for him to see when that time came.

Your head shot up when you heard your door being frantically knocked on, you weren’t expecting anyone today —not like you ever were expecting someone— and so you didn’t know who it could be.

You stood up from where you were sat in your living room, making your way over to the front door, having grabbed your keys when you passed the little table-made-bookshelf by your door, and unlocking it.

Your eyes widened when you saw Joaquin standing there, panting as if he had just run up your flight of stairs, still in uniform and back over his shoulder.

“Joaquin?” You asked with a breathless laugh. “Why didn’t you call me? I didn’t know you were—”

His hands were swift to find your hips, pulling you in for a harsh kiss. You were surprised, of course, but you reciprocated the kiss swiftly.

When he pulled away, his eyes darted between both of yours. “I missed you.”

His voice was faint, rushed and breathless, and his eyes did not stray from yours, focused in on you and you alone.

“I missed you.” You said softly, cupping his face before your lips pulled upwards into a big grin.

“Please,” he whispered faintly, his nose brushing against yours as his voice was far away, but you could still feel him there, in your arms. “Let me have you? I… I need you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his question, his confession. His eyes were bearing into yours, unmoving once they locked onto your eyes, but it was intimidating, it wasn’t pressuring, or uncomfortable, it was… him.

It was his presence, it was him being there —in front of you— after coming back from deployment, it was his care and his love and his support and his patience all in front of you, right there in your arms. Him.

“C’ere…” your whispered, lips brushed up against his, no doubt initiating another kiss.

You pulled him in by his shirt, and he kicked the door shut as the two of you made your way away from the front door, and into the comfort of your apartment.

His hands cupped your face, bringing you into a fierce kiss, one full of desperation and need, one where you knew you were going to be kissed dizzy. Your hands held onto his shirt, tripping over your own feet as he tried to find your bedroom from the way the two of you were holding each other.

The two of you were hasty with your movements, months of built up affection that neither of you could release due to the distance, but also the built of tension between you two, neither of you had ever crossed that line with each other yet. It was new, unfamiliar territory, but one that you both more than willing to explore.

Your back hit your bedroom doorframe, causing you to pull away from the kiss for a moment, chuckling faintly.

His forehead rested against yours, lips pulling upwards into a smirk. “Sorry about that.”

“Eager, I see.” You muttered against his lips.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, his eyes pulled away from yours for a moment before they fell back onto yours. “Staying the obvious much?”

“I just want to point out how desperate you are right now,” you teased, nose brushed up against this before you pulled him into another kiss. “I mean, you’re just boosting my ego by a second.”

“Stop talking.” He whispered, his hand moving to cup your face, lips mere inches away from yours. “Kiss me.”

You closed the gap in between the two of you, eyes closing as you wrapped your arms around him again, engulfing yourself into his warmth. You felt the groan he let out against your lips, his hands squeezing your sides as he started to move into your bedroom.

You almost stumbled back when the back of your knee hit the side of your leg, and this time it was Joaquin who pulled away. “Are you sure?”

“Having second thoughts?” You mused with a little chuckle, and you saw the sheepish smile that he had.

He shook his head, his eyes darting between both of yours with a sort of puppy’s look. “No, I… I just realised I kind of just jumped on you as soon as I got here.”

You let out a laugh, pulling him into another kiss, slower, more emotional, reassuring. “I am sure.”

With that, he kissed you fiercely again. You shifted and manoeuvred your body so that you were settled into your bed, and with your hands holding his shirt once moved, you shortly pulled him down with you.

He found his place towering over you, a hand slipping down to your thigh, while the other ran up your chest before it settled just by your shoulder so he could prop himself up.

He groaned against your lips once your hands ran up his sides to his chest and around his neck, a hand tangling in his hair. The two of you pulled away from the kiss for a moment, taking a second as you both bore into each others’ eyes.

Panting and out of breath, you grinned up at him. “Getting lost in my eyes? Or you just missed me that much?”

“You say that as if you didn’t miss me too.” He said with a smirk, rolling his eyes at you, but there was humour in his voice.

“Eh.” You shrugged faintly, and you felt how his forehead rested against yours. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He nodded slowly, not speaking at first, almost like he was trying to think about what he wanted to say. “I… I want you so… so bad, believe me. But I want to take you when it’s not so…”

“Rushed and messy and have missed each other so much common sense is out the window?” You finished for him with a little chuckle. “It’s okay, we can stop.”

He shook his head for a moment, which made you tilt your head in confusion, he inhaled slowly. “I mean, yeah, but… I still want you.”

Then there was silence, your heart thumping loudly in your chest and both of your laboured breaths the only thing that could be heard.

“We don’t have to go all the way.” You whispered against his lips. “If you’rere definitely sure you want to do this now.”

He nodded once more, lips attacking yours again before he muttered. “I’m so sure.”

“Me too.” You whispered back, even though he didn’t ask, but still wanting to be certain that he was aware that you were still okay.

Your hands eventually found their way to undo Joaquin’s shirt, tugging at the buttons as you tried to undo them without looking. You felt how he smirked into the kiss, and you had to fight a laugh when you knew he would have laughed at your struggle if you weren’t kissing him.

His hand moved from your thigh, taking your hand and moving it away from his shirt and placing it so it rested on his neck. His hand then moved to his shirt and he started undoing it for you.

“I feel obliged to say you look good in the uniform.” You whispered eventually, breath uneven. “Y’know, before it gets thrown across my room.”

He chuckled at that, leaning down and whipping into your ear. “You should see me without it.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to.” You mused back, swift to tilt your head so that you could kiss him again, your hands quick to help him take off the shirt, and his top under it after.

He discarded his clothing, somewhere you didn’t exactly pay attention to, but your hands ran done his —now— bare chest. You saw the smug smile that pulled on his lips, but he didn’t say anything.

Instead, one of his pulled at the bottom of your shirt, looking up at you for that little nod of confirmation to let him. With you nod, he pulled it up slowly, a breath escaping his lips once it was fully off of you.

His hand trailed up your side, feeling the bumps of scars that were no doubt from your time as an Avenger.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” You mused faintly, chills being left behind from his touch. “We don’t have the time of day for all my stories, y’know?”

He groaned and rolled his eyes, and you assumed it was because he was always up to hearing about your time as an Avenger. “I will save curiosity for another day then.”

His lips trailed down from your lips to your neck and to your collarbone, and you couldn’t help but guide your hand towards his belt while his lips were occupied.

You felt the way his breath hitched when you started to undo it, felt the groan against your lips when it escaped his lips.

“Let me-” He tried to say, but you cut him off with a shake of the head.

“No, no, please, I haven’t seen you in ages, I wanna do this.” You whispered back, forehead against his as you hand cupped his hardening cock.

You heard the slow exhale that came from him, the subtle flutter of his eyes as he tried to focus on keeping himself up. You couldn’t blame him, of course, you didn’t know the last time he had been laid, and God knows that you hadn’t for two years.

“C’ere…” You whispered, shifting on the bed to make space for him to lay beside you.

He tilted his head in confusion, but before he could say anything, you pulled him down beside you. You moved to lay on your side, and he did the same.

The two of you took a moment, taking in the others’ face, chests rising and falling rapidly from the breath you lacked. He cupped your face, pulling you into another kiss, and you took it as encouragement to start stripping off the rest of his clothes.Joaquin was swift to use is other hand to free you from the rest of your clothes, pulling you closer once you had.

Your hand moved back to his cock, fingers wrapping around it as your thumb brushed against the tip. He muttered curses under his breath, head falling to your shoulder, but he was quick to make up for the kissing lost by kissing the side of your neck.

“Oh, fuck, Cariño…” He gasped out once you started to slowly move your hand up and down, one of his hands moving to waist, squeezing his.

Your heart skipped a beat when you felt that same hand move to your own cock, a shuddering breath escaping you once he started his own movement to jerk you off. “Fuck, Quino… you- you don’t have to..”

“I want to.” He rasped faintly, matching the same rhythm that you had while you touched him.

You let out a low moan, both of you panting as you got closer and closer. Neither of you lasted all that long, but you weren’t all that focused on how long to last, rather on feeling the other.

“Fuck, a-are you…?” You tried to say after a few minutes.

He nodded quickly, swallowing thickly before responding. “Yeah, yeah… I am.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your climax, gasping out, as Joaquin followed shortly after. His hands moved to your sides, holding you close as his head leaned on your shoulder.

Your head rested of the pillow, looking at the side of his face with a little smile pulling on your lips. Joaquin was a pretty guy, but, now? There seemed like there was something different in the air, with his arms wrapped around you and his face barely visible, he looked so much better.

“I love you.” You whispered faintly, you hadn’t even realised you said it aloud until you saw Joaquin’s head turn to look at you.

“What?” He asked with a little laugh.

You shook your head and waved your hand dismissively. “No- no, nothing.”

“You said you love me.” He said with a big grin appearing on his face, you tried to roll your eyes at him, shaking your head. “You can’t take it back, I heard it.”

“Shut up, Torres.” You muttered, leaning down and pulling him into a slow kiss.

The kiss you shared was much more slower than before, one full of love and affection, the underlying lust that was there before having disappeared completely.

He pulled away, eyes searching yours for a few moments, and you were sure it was only the two of you in the world. “I love you too.”

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Taglist - @mayal0pez

Joaquin Torres Masterlist

Joaquin Torres the type of man to go slow while fucking you, hands on your waist groping you, feeling you up.

Joaquin Torres the type of man who eats you out as well, he’s damn good at it and there no denying it.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to go down on you just for his own benefit. Sure it pleasures you, but you have ZERO idea what it does to him

Joaquin Torres the type of man kiss your head in the middle of sex, it lingers too, more like he’s just resting his lips there instead.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to be a little nervous when he has his first time with you. He knows what he’s doing, trust, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing with you.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to map out your entire body, slowly, carefully. He’s getting used to you, getting used to how you react, what makes you tick. Everything and anything.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to talk and laugh during sex, he doesn’t want to take it seriously, not super seriously anyway. He wants you both to have fun, so he jokes and laughs.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to grin against your skin and lips, you can feel the upturn in during the kiss (it’s the same when he’s eating your out)

Joaquin Torres the type of man to get a little bit too turned on when he gets his hair pulled when he’s eating you out, you have to grab something ofc and he just so happens to be the closest thing.

Joaquin Torres the type of man to go slow especially for you, he would drag your orgasm out, take his time, make you cum first before he even thinks about cumming himself.

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