THERES MORE 😛😛

Not to be the weird military party pooper but I’ve read many fics were Joaquín went to bmt straight out of high school but that straight wouldn’t make sense. He’s a Captain in BNW and a Lieutenant in TFATWS and those are officer ranks and he’s an Intelligence Officer which requires a bachelors degree. In my mind, he went to the Air Force Academy cus he’s a smart lil cookie 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️. Again, don’t mean to be the weird military party pooper, js wanted to share a lil thing cus it’s a detail in my upcoming fic 💔💔💔

— SEVEN MINUTES

Tony takes care of Peter, even if he’s not actually there

Iron!dad and Spider!son (ish)

wc: 2.5k

warnings: fighting, gun violence, mentions of death, blood and injuries, imagine Peter got a bit more time with Tony, May, and Ned + MJ…

authors note: hehehehehehe I’d recommend listening to “White Ferrari” by Frank Ocean and “For the First Time” by Mac DeMarco while reading this! ENJOY!! 😁😁

There were bodies scattered all around the misty lot. Various weapons and gadgets not too far from the mercenaries. Peter was slumped on the ground, his back against a lamp post and his hand on his abdomen. It was supposed to be a simple deal bust. He’d disarm the sellers and buyer, arrest them, and turn in the weapons to the authorities. The deal had almost been struck when the sellers shot the buyer. Peter knew he had to swoop in, even if the buyer was a bad person. He was horrifyingly outnumbered, tall and muscular mercenaries all surrounded him when he swung onto the sight. They all loaded their exotic weapons and opened fire on him. He’d manage to run away and hide just in time to figure out a plan to disarm them.

He was atop the tall lampposts in the darkness and slowly one by one he snatched away the weapons from them. What he hadn’t considered were the backup weapons they concealed on their bodies. As Peter fought them hand-to-hand, he started to tire out. He’d been fighting and jumping and running for the past three hours and it was the middle of the night. The amount of mercs seemed never ending and he was starting to slow down. His punches got softer and his movements became slower. By then, everyone but him had their smaller guns and knives out. Various bullets and knives grazed his skin but none of them lodged into him. Peter wasn’t one who used guns. He didn’t know how to use them and he didn’t want to. It was only when he realized that him and his webs stood no chance that he picked up a stray gun.

The smell of iron filled his nose as he looked around the lot. All of the mercs holding onto their limbs lodged into them, some unconscious. He thought that the fight was over, that he could go home, get some rest. Only when he heard the ringing in his ears and the tingling throughout his body did he realize what had happened to him. He turned around quickly and stopped the punch that was aimed straight at his face. He was gripping the other hand with his full force though, the one that lodged the crowbar deep into him. The ringing and tingling happened again but this time, it was amplified. He knocked out the merc before him and felt a bullet strike into him as he turned around. It seemed as the more he turned around, the more bullets there were.

He saw three mercs on the ground aiming their guns at him as they held onto their wounds, using their last breaths to kill a child who just wanted to do good. More and more bullets struck him as he ran away at an inhumane speed. The sound of guns shooting slowed as did his speed and breath. He ran to the closest lamppost he could find and he collapsed. That’s how he found himself in this position. Looking up, and seeing a familiar face.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter huffed out.

“Kid what did I tell you about chasing bad guys with guns? Now look at you, c’mon get up.” Tony scolded the injured boy.

All Peter could do was look up in disbelief. Blood was pooling out of the little holes all over his chest and back and more was coming out of his abdominal wound. It was a waterfall, and Peter was the small edge of the cliff that couldn’t handle any more of the weight. He groaned out in pain and threw his head back, hitting it quite hard.

“Leave me alone! You’re not real! You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead!” He yelled out as he attempted to curl up into a ball.

The crowbar was still very much deep in him, slicing more of his organs as he moved around. He held onto the bar and started to pull it out.

“Don’t do that! That’s the only thing that’s giving to a chance to stay alive. Now get up and start walking.” Tony’s voice rang in his ear again.

He looked back up at Tony, who was now reaching out his hand to Peter, and pulled himself up, gripping onto Tony’s hand. Tony kept Peter steady as he limped forward at a snails pace. He was dizzy at this point, his body felt lighter, and his vision was darkening. They walked towards the darkness, where the road was hiding behind and Peter felt his body getting lighter and lighter with each short step he took.

“I…it all hurts Mr. Stark…” he took more labored breaths while gripping onto the handle of the crowbar.

Tony could only look at the kid with compassion oozing out of his eyes when he started to speak again.

“Remember when you stopped that bank robbery?”

“Which time” Peter chuckled, even though it hurt every part of his body.

“You know what? I’m gonna ignore that and continue with what I was gonna say…” Tony chuckled too “…remember how mad I was?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t let me leave the apartment without telling you where I was and checking in every five minutes.”

“I couldn’t let you away from my attention for too long because every time I did, you’d get yourself into some trouble.

They giggled together and the memory of Peter getting scolded by Tony flooded his mind. It was as if he’d been transported to that moment. One moment he was walking in a dark parking lot and the next he was in the living room of the Avengers compound. The entire moment felt like a cutaway in a show. It all happens in the way he remembered.

He relived the scolding from Tony. “Do you know how stupid that was!? They had never seen before weapons! Ones I’ve never seen before! I swear you’re gonna give me a heart attack one day, kid.”

He relived Tony apologizing. He heard the soft knocks on his door and saw Tony walk in with a tight lipped smile. “Uh…I want to apologize..for the last night. Even though you’re young and semi new to the whole hero thing, you dearmed the robbers and turned them in to the authorities without hurting yourself or others. Good job..I guess.” He felt Tony’s awkward side hug along with it.

He relived receiving Tony’s apologetic gifts, even after he apologized. Tony’d given him a new and more advanced suit along with many little gadgets and gizmos, one of them being his little robot buddy A.P.R.I.L (Assistant Programed to Remember I Lived). “Look it was difficult to come up with an acronym okay? It’s to remind you that you lived through the robbery and that you can live through tougher things.”

“Feels like you need this more than me” Peter laughed.

They walked limped for another few steps before Tony spoke up again.

“Hey what was the name of that girl you were dating?”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat “…uh MJ…” he hadn’t said her name in so long…

“Cute name, is it actually MJ though?”

Peter laughs at Tony’s comment, blood pooling out faster because of it.

“Well it’s Michelle Jones but she prefers MJ.”

They inched forward a few steps, Peter’s steps were starting to falter.

“I remember the day I asked to be her boyfriend—like officially.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.”

“Ned gave me a bunch of ideas like to make her an elaborate sign and a hundred different types of other odd things…”

“Dude you have to make it epic! You could to buy her a bouquet with a hundred count of her favorite flowers and each flower has a thing you like about her AND THEN you show her the light up sign asking her to be your girlfriend!” Ned rambled.

“Or…I could just take her out to a restaurant or cafe and ask her…?”

“Nah that’s lame! You see, girls love when you spoil them, you have to go all out!”

“So how’d you actually ask her out?”

“I was simple with it. I took her to this cafe slash book store and asked her over a drink.” Peter gave the best shoulder shrug he could at his state.

“So MJ…” Peter played with the page of the book he’d picked.

MJ looked up from her book and gave a questioning look at Peter. He could feel his pulse pick up and palms sweat when she looked up. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail—with the exception of her bangs—and he could’ve sworn she had a halo and wings appear once he looked at her. “I wanted to ask you something…” Peter started.

MJ takes the bookmark from its position beside the book and closes it between the pages. She slides it slightly off to her right and rests her head in her palm, waiting for him to continue. She gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever been given and all the words evaporated from his mind. “What is it Peter?”

Peter swallowed hard and started speaking, trying his best to not stutter. “Since we both like each other and have gone on several dates and stuff…may I be your boyfriend?” Peter takes her hand in his and smiles at her as she takes her time answering his question.

She taps her fingers to her chin and tilts it up slightly, acting as if she’s in deep thought. Her smile is wider than ever and Peter basically feels time stop seeing her. She lowers her head and stares him straight in the eyes, giggling. “Of course!”

He starts giggling with her and leans his head forward, snaking his other hand to cup her cheek. She too leans her head forward and closes her eyes in anticipation. It’s when his lips finally press to hers does Peter’s heart stop pounding so hard. They molded so perfectly together, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. It was slow and deep. No tongue, no lust, just deep yearning and pure love.

“I’m not sure where she is these days. I tried to talk to her after the whole multiverse fiasco with Mr. Strange but I chickened out when I got there…” Peter dropped his head at the painful memory.

“It’s okay Pete, it’s not your fault.” Tony rubbed his hands against Peter’s arm, feeling him get colder and colder.

Peter picked up his head and looked at Tony as he let his tears flow down his cheeks. Tony caressed the tears off his cheeks and gave him a side hug. “It’s okay, let your tears out.”

Peter was sobbing against Tony’s embrace. It hurt, physically and emotionally. He was so tired. He had no one left. May wasn’t there to comfort him anymore, neither was Ned, and neither was MJ. The last memory played in his mind at the thought of May. It was the day she and Happy had their first date.

May came out of her room in a beautiful soft yellow and pink dress a bit past her knees. Her hair was in a half up half down style with loose curls and she had her signature purse slung over her shoulder. “Wow May you’re so pretty!” Peter complimented as she walked over to the shoe closet by the front door.

May looked at Peter “Are you sure? It feels…” she made a circular motion in the air, referring to herself “…a little much.”

“Yes! Where are you going?”

“I…have a date.” May grinned as she got her sandals out of the closet.

“Ooo who’s the lucky fella?” Peter asked while wiggling his eyebrows and the brightest smile plastered on his face.

“Happy! You know, the chauffeur guy that you always hang out with?” Peter’s smile dropped.

“Wait you’re going on a date with HAPPY?”

“Yeah…what he’s nice, funny, and he’s got a charm to him!”

“What he’s literally always grumpy! Does not live up to his name!”

May chuckled at Peter’s disapproval as she walked towards him. She cupped both of his cheeks and smiled. “He’s a good man Peter. You just have to warm up to him.” With that, May squeezed his cheeks and shook his head from side to side.

He started laughing at her action and pulled off her hands from his cheeks. “Fine. But if he hurts you in any way, I am not afraid to hit my elders.” He half joked.

May laughed at his half full threat and lightly smacked his shoulder. She pulled him into a hug and he fell into her embrace with no hesitation, closing his eyes.

It’s only when he opened his eyes he’s facing cold harsh reality again. He can see the warm street lights ahead of him along with the few cars swooshing by. His knees are faltering at this point and Tony is long gone from his side. Maybe Tony was never there. Maybe his brain had tricked itself to imagine someone helping him to ease the pain of the loneliness in is last moments. Whether he was actually there or not, he was glad he got a proper last moment with the only father figure in his life. Peter limps two more feet before he collapses on the sidewalk. His knees fall onto the cold hard concrete and he finally pulls off his mask, breathing in the, not so fresh, New York City, air.

He leans forward and rests his left hand on the ground while gripping onto the crowbar with his other hand. His vision is blurred and he can feel his eyelids getting heavier. With all of the might he had left in his body, he pulls the crowbar out. The rest of whatever blood he had left in his body spills out with the crowbar no longer there to aid in stopping the bleeding. The crimson liquor coats the gloves of his suit, pooling out too quickly. The pain speeds throughout his body for the last time as his arms give out. He’s in a fetal position facing the ground, holding onto his wound.

Only when he is taking his last breaths does Peter Parker finally feel relaxed. He breathes in and out deeply as the sound of the world dissolves from his ears and he finally hears silence. He smiles his last smile and he accepts the warm welcome of death. Because it is only when he dies that he realizes that death isn’t a dark, hooded, skeleton with a scythe. It’s his mother, Mary “May” Parker, holding her arms wide open for him to fall into.

It’s said that in the last seven minute of someone’s life, their brain is active, going back through their memories. Peter is content knowing he saw his family for the last time before he died.

“Oh my god look!”

“What?”

“Is that Spider-Man?” the girl pointed at Peter’s corpse. They ran towards it, to get a closer look

“Holy shit it is!” The boy yelled.

“Shit look at him! There’s holes over his body!”

“What are you looking at Ned? Call the cops!”

“Jeez I’m already on it MJ, chill!”

A sense of familiarity washes over her as she pushes the body of the fallen hero to his side. She sees his expressionless face and she feels nostalgia prick at her brain like static. She taps her friend kneeling beside her. “Does he look familiar to you?”

introducing the garcía-torres twins. yes they exist in the same universe bc i have free will

I didn’t know I needed to celebrate Holi with Joaquin until rn 💔💔

Color Me Yours~ J.T.

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Desi!Fem!reader

Summary: Joaquin Torres has never been to a Holi festival before, but when his girlfriend invites him to celebrate with her, he doesn’t hesitate to say yes. What follows is an explosion of color, playful teasing, and a day he’ll never forget—mostly because he ends up covered in more color than anyone else.

—————————————————————————

Joaquin had absolutely no idea what to expect when Y/N told him they were taking him to a Holi festival. He’d heard of it before, sure—something about colors and celebration—but that was about it.

“So, you just throw colors at people?” he asked as Y/N led him through the crowded festival grounds, her hand securely in his. The air was already thick with clouds of pink, blue, and yellow, and excited laughter filled the air as people ran around, tossing powdered colors at one another.

“It’s a little more than that,” Y/N said with a laugh, reaching into a small pouch filled with powdered color. “It’s about celebrating love, new beginnings, and the arrival of spring. But yes, the main goal is to throw colors at people.” Joaquin grinned. “Sounds like my kind of party.”

Before he could say another word, Y/N flicked her fingers, sending a puff of bright pink powder straight at his face. Joaquin coughed, his eyes going wide as he wiped at his cheek. “Oh, so we’re starting like that, huh?”

“You looked too clean,” Y/N said innocently, already backing away. “Oh, you’re so in trouble.” Joaquin didn’t waste a second. Grabbing a handful of blue powder from a nearby table, he lunged forward, smearing it across Y/N’s cheek with a triumphant laugh. Y/N let out a playful shriek, ducking away before grabbing a handful of yellow powder and tossing it right at his chest.

And just like that, all bets were off.

⸻

Within minutes, the two of them were fully engaged in a playful battle, running through the festival as they ambushed each other with handfuls of color. Joaquin quickly realized that Y/N was much more experienced at this than he was, dodging with expert precision while simultaneously getting bright streaks of color across his arms, his hoodie, and his hair.

“Okay, wait—truce, truce!” Joaquin called, laughing as he raised his hands in surrender. He was already covered head to toe in a chaotic mix of pinks, purples, and yellows.

Y/N, who was significantly less messy thanks to her superior dodging skills, tilted her head. “Truce?” Joaquin nodded solemnly. “Yeah, yeah. I just need a second to—” He moved fast, swiping a massive handful of red powder across Y/N’s face before they could react.

Y/N gasped, staring at him in betrayal. “You liar!” Joaquin cackled, taking a step back. “Hey, all’s fair in love and Holi.” Y/N lunged at him, smearing even more color into his already ruined shirt. “I can’t believe I brought you here! You’re a menace!”

“You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me,” he said smugly, wrapping his arms around them before they could escape. “Also, you smell like flowers and chaos. It’s a good combo.” Y/N rolled her eyes but leaned into him. “You, on the other hand, smell like sweat and bad decisions.”

“Aw, babe,” he said dramatically, pressing a messy, colorful kiss to her forehead. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” They stood there for a moment, surrounded by music, laughter, and bursts of color filling the air. Joaquin tightened his arms around Y/N, pressing his forehead against hers. “This is amazing,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Thank you for bringing me.”

Y/N smiled up at him. “I told you you’d love it.” He grinned. “Yeah, but I think I love you more.” Y/N pretended to gasp. “Did Joaquin Torres just admit he loves something more than a new adventure?”Joaquin chuckled, nudging her nose with his. “Maybe. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Y/N smirked. “Too late.” As another cloud of color burst into the sky above them, Joaquin pulled Y/N into a kiss, not caring in the slightest that they were both covered in a ridiculous mess of powder. Holi was a celebration of love, and at that moment, he knew there was no one else he’d rather celebrate it with.

——————

After their playful color battle, the festival’s energy shifted as the music swelled, filling the air with the infectious beats of classic Holi-themed Bollywood songs. Joaquin was still dusting powder off his clothes when Y/N turned to him with a mischievous grin. “You ready for the next part?” She asked. Joaquin raised an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Oh, so much more,” Y/N said, already bouncing on their feet as the opening beats of Balam Pichkari blasted through the speakers. “Now it’s time to dance.” Joaquin chuckled, running a hand through his already colorful hair. “Okay, I can dance. What’s the catch?” Y/N grabbed his hands, pulling him closer. “Bollywood dance moves, babe. Time to see if you can keep up.”

“Oh, I know I can keep up,” Joaquin said, ever the confident one. Y/N smirked, stepping back as she demonstrated the first move—rolling her shoulders and flicking her wrists outward in that classic, effortless Holi-dance style. It was playful, energetic, and completely in sync with the music.

Joaquin furrowed his brows as he tried to copy it. His first attempt was… questionable. He rolled his shoulders too stiffly and flicked his wrists in a way that made him look more like he was swatting a fly than dancing. Y/N burst into laughter. “What was that?”

“I was going for style points,” Joaquin defended, now grinning. “That was my interpretation of Bollywood.”

“Oh, no. No interpretations,” Y/N teased, stepping behind him. “Here, let me help.” She placed her hands lightly on his shoulders, guiding him through the movement again, making him relax into the rhythm. “Shoulders looser. Flick your wrists with confidence. And—” she stepped beside him, spinning playfully, “—you gotta feel the beat.”

Joaquin tried again, this time exaggerating his moves even more, which only resulted in him looking like a wild octopus caught in a dance-off. Y/N doubled over laughing. “Oh my god, Torres.”Joaquin huffed in mock offense. “Listen, I might not be Bollywood-ready yet, but you gotta admit, I have enthusiasm.”

“I’ll give you that,” Y/N said, still giggling. Determined to get it right, Joaquin grabbed Y/N’s hands and spun her dramatically before attempting a hip shake that was definitely not part of the choreography. “Joaquin, that’s not—” Y/N started, but they were laughing too hard to finish the sentence. He smirked. “I’m making it my own.”

Just then, Jai Jai Shivshankar started playing, and the crowd around them erupted into cheers, everyone joining in on the dance floor. Y/N turned to Joaquin, her dark brown eyes twinkling. “Okay, you’re getting thrown into the deep end now,” she teased.

“Oh, bring it on,” Joaquin said, standing tall. Y/N guided him through the steps—shoulders loose, arms sweeping out, a playful bounce in her feet. After a few rounds of exaggerated attempts, Joaquin finally started getting the hang of it, moving in sync with Y/N as the song picked up speed.

As they twirled, tossed more colors in the air, and got swept up in the festive energy, Joaquin realized something—this wasn’t just about dancing. It was about joy, about feeling free, about experiencing something so purely happy with the person he loved.

“You know,” he said breathlessly as the song reached its climax, “I think I might be crushing this.” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “That’s bold talk for someone who just tried to moonwalk to a Bollywood song.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Absolutely not.” Joaquin laughed, spinning Y/N one last time before pulling her close. Their faces were both covered in powder, their clothes a complete mess, and yet—this moment, here, with the music, the colors, the warmth of Y/N’s arms—it felt like the most beautiful chaos. “You’re the best,” Joaquin murmured against their forehead. “This was amazing.”

Y/N smiled up at him. “Told you you’d love Holi.” And with another burst of color flying through the air, Joaquin realized that Holi was more than just a festival. It was them. It was laughter, love, and the best kind of mess—a mess he never wanted to clean up.

—————

Later that day…

Joaquin groaned dramatically as he stood in front of the mirror back at Y/N’s place. His entire face had a faint blue tint, his hair streaked with pink and yellow.

“Okay, but seriously,” he called out to Y/N, who was in the bathroom scrubbing her own hands clean, “How do I still look like a human rainbow after two showers?” Y/N peeked her head out, biting back a laugh. “Oh, yeah… I forgot to tell you—blues and greens stick for a while.”

Joaquin turned, horrified. “You forgot to tell me?” Y/N smirked, walking up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “Don’t worry, babe. You’ll look normal in, like, three days.”

“Three days?!” Joaquin looked back at the mirror, groaning dramatically. “Sam and Bucky are never letting me live this down.”

Y/N grinned. “It’s a good look on you, babe.” Joaquin sighed dramatically before pulling Y/N into a loose hug, smearing more color on her in the process. “If I have to suffer, so do you.” Joaquin gave them a look before grabbing a leftover bit of pink powder from the counter and dabbing it right onto Y/N’s nose.

Y/N gasped. “You did not—” Joaquin grinned. “Oh, I absolutely did.” Y/N shook her head, sighing in fake exasperation. “You are such a menace.” Joaquin wrapped his arms around her, swaying slightly. “Yeah, but I’m your menace.”

And as Y/N laughed, pressing her forehead to his, Joaquin knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. And as Y/N laughed in protest, Joaquin decided that Holi was now his new favorite holiday—color stains and all.

I’d just like to bring this back up cus lowkey I still think about it 💔💔

— CANT HANDLE IT

You can’t bear to see Joaquín injured

Joaquín Torres x med student!gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

warnings: hurt no comfort, mentions of injuries, cursing, mention of finals (sigh)

authors note:My next fic is gonna be a cute lil Iron!dad and Spider!son one and it’s alr at 1.2k words at like the beginning of the climax so I can’t wait to share that too! (no promises that it won’t hurt feelings though) ENJOY! (I was gonna wait till Wednesday to post this but I got too excited💔💔)

You and Joaquín were stood adjacent to each other. Your glossy eyes only staring at the scars on his neck and shoulder. He was staring at you. You could feel it. His beautiful, warm, always held joy in them eyes filled with nothing but pain. He was just discharged from the hospital and was so excited to finally come home and feel your love in the comfort of his home. Instead he was faced with a cold shoulder and ignorance.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” He spoke softly.

You finally looked up at his face. You could really see the concern and slight pain in is face.

“What’s wrong? Are you kidding me?”

He just looked at you confused.

“You were dead for two whole minutes is what’s wrong!”

“It was only two minutes, I’m all better now. See?” He approached you slowly trying to hold your hands. You back away and snatched your hands off of his. His brows furrowed as his heart dropped. You’d never backed away from his touch let alone yelled at him.

“That’s not the point Joaquín! I can’t handle this anymore…” tears formed in your eyes “…the bruises, the cuts, the secrecy. I’ll go to sleep one night with you next to me and in the morning you’ll be gone! I don’t get a heads up, or a text, not even a damn letter!”

“Angel…”

“Don’t ’Angel’ me, Joaquín. All I ask is for a heads up or a warning. You go on these dangerous missions and you don’t even show back up until days, sometimes weeks, later!” Now your volume is starting to raise.

“You know I can’t tell you! If I tell you then the safety of the mission is at risk!” Now he’s starting to get frustrated too.

“Yeah that’s what you tell me every single fucking time! That shit isn’t going to work for you every time!”

“What does that mean?” He can’t believe what you’re implying. “You’re wearing that ring aren’t you? Why would I cheat if I proposed!”

“Who said I was talking about cheating?”

“Oh you know what you were saying.” He rests his hands on his hips and turns slightly away from you.

A moment passes before you speak again.

“You know I missed a final? I’d stayed up for three nights in a row studying for it and the call about you went off right as I started it.” Your tears are escaping faster and faster now.

Joaquín’s head turned to face you at your statement. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” He tried holding you, out of habit, but you backed away again. His heart was starting to hurt more and more.

“And make you bear that guilt at that state? You would’ve been dead permanently.” You let out a bitter chuckle.

“W-well maybe your professor would let you take it now! I’m sure you can send an email!”

“I got a zero. There’s no do-overs with this Joaquín! I’m sick of his lifestyle you have me living! I’m sick of you!” And that’s when his heart fully shattered.

“No you don’t mean that, you’re just tired, Amor…” he was crying now.

“I mean every word. I’ve lost hours and hours of sleep worrying about you, I’ve missed too many deadlines because you decide to get hurt and come home for me to fix you, and you want me to be okay with you being an Avenger?!”

He was stunned at your last statement. When Sam had made him an Avenger you were the first person he told. You smiled so hard and squeezed him so tight, people would’ve thought he achieved world peace if they saw the two of you. The two of you had went out the fanciest restaurant and you’d bought him dinner (much to his objection). You’d made it seem like you were over the Moon. He was so confused.

“What do you mean? I thought you were happy about me being an Avenger?”

“Being an Avenger is what killed Tony Stark and left his wife widowed! Along with that robot and Black Widow! I don’t want to be the next Avenger widow!”

He was honestly just hurt you didn’t have more faith in him and his abilities.

“What you think I’m not strong enough to be an Avenger?”

“Tell me how you plan to fight a genocidal alien or robot, how about an evil god from outer space with your guns and a jet pack with wings!”

You were hyperventilating at this point and the walls seemed like they were closing in on you. You could see Joaquín’s stiff figure also crying through your tears. None of you spoke a word for bit after your sentence.

“Here take this” you snatched the beautiful ring that adorned your ring finger and shoved it on his chest. He held his hand over your hand that pressed into his chest. “Wait no please…” He begged while wrapping his other hand around your arm and held you in place.

“Don’t leave. I’ll tell Sam I changed my mind! I’ll never put the wings back on! Just please don’t do this!” He yelled out through his heavy sobs.

“That’s our problem Joaquín! This! Your job is so important, not just that, it’s your dream! I can’t hold you back from doing what you love and you can’t hold me back either! People need you, the world needs you! You can’t hold me in front of the world…” and that’s when you snatch away your hand and walk to your shared room with Joaquín.

You grabbed your two suitcases and bag that you had asked your friend to pack for you and made your way to the front door. Joaquín followed you the entire time, begging you to not do this. You just ignored him and grabbed the door handle. As you were twisting the door handle Joaquín speaks for the last time.

“You are my world. How am I supposed to save billions of random people if I can’t save us?”

You turn back and see that his eyes are red and starting to puff.

“Maybe when you finally learn that you’re not indestructible and that you’re human like the rest of us.”

You twisted the door open and walked out, shutting it gently behind you. You could hear Joaquín’s from behind the door and your heart broke at the sound of it.

You didn’t know if you’d ever make up, but you were sure as hell that you would never find a love as pure or strong as Joaquín’s. Maybe you’d reconcile one day, if he doesn’t get killed.

Didn’t even have to tag him, js say you want me, Danny 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Fun Fact! It’s impossible to dislike him.

“people are allowed to dislike things” WRONG nobody is allowed to dislike sam wilson

you were on the floor.

your knees were to your chest and your tears flowing nonstop.

joaquín gently rattled his key in the lock and opened the door. he was drenched. his boots squeaked as he shuffled in as quietly as he could. he scoped around the kitchen and living room, looking for a box. the box that was the cause of all of your tears. all of your pain.

it held so many of the items you held close to your chest for the last five years. the hoodies and sweats that always kept you warm in lack of joaquín’s presence, his little trinkets he found at random shops while deployed or on missions, gadgets he’d made when he had too much free time. what hurt most was the ring you’d grown to love so much for the last two years of your relationship.

joaquín had to go on an emergency mission right after the break up. it gave you enough time to pack up and isolate his belongings from yours. you’d saved your favorite items of his for last, too attached to them. only when you’d taped that cursed box did you realize what your life was now. no more of joaquín’s warm and protective arms holding you anymore, no more of his loving kisses that you were obsessed with, but most importantly, no more of the person who loved and knew you most.

your confidant. almost life partner. you’d planned your entire future together. he’d said “i don’t care how many kids we have, as long as i have you with me.”, all you could do was smile at him. you’d wanted a quiet life away from commotion. he’d promised it to you, as if it’d kill him if he didn’t get you everything you wanted. he wanted two dogs and a cat, and an alpaca. he never explained why and you giggled at his nonchalance on it.

the two of you had minimal contact while he was on this mysterious mission. he came back after two weeks. you didn’t leave your apartment once. just stayed watching the wall. sometimes moving to the balcony to look at the bustling city of Washington D.C. you only started packing his things after the third day. first his clothes and shoes, leaving a pair of pajamas and a decent outfit, then his electronics, then everything else, and then the box.

his sister had came by with two of their other cousins to collect the boxes. they’d stuck around for a bit after hauling all of the boxes onto the moving truck that they’d rented. you were close. of course you were close. you were basically family. you’d been at countless birthdays, baby showers, weddings, and gatherings alike. of course they were worried. you shook off their worries with a forced bright smile and affirming words, promising them you were alright. with much reluctance, they left, only after giving you one last bone crushing hug.

he rounded the corner to the room you were basically hiding in. hiding from what? you had no idea. maybe if you didn’t leave, joaquín wouldn’t either. that way you wouldn’t lose each other. he twisted the door handle but didn’t open the door. he left it closed. scared of seeing the bedroom stripped of him. every bit of himself that he’d brought to your life and home taped in a box, on its way back to Miami. “you okay in there?”

you stayed quiet.

“i’m coming in.”

you made no attempt to hide your tears. this was not the worst joaquín had seen you. he’d seen you through everything. nonetheless, no feeling could compare to the sight before him. your eyes were bloodshot—almost as if someone had poked your eyes—and snot was running down your nose. your lips quivered and you breathed little ragged breaths to calm yourself. you were a mess, you both could see it, you just didn’t want it to be too obvious.

“there’s the last of your stuff,” you nodded your head to point towards the box.

“I washed all of the clothes and cleaned everything else in the box, don’t worry.”

your voice was quiet. broken. as if someone had peeled away at the joy from you like paint on a wall. that someone was joaquín, and he did it without even realizing. guilt spread through his body like water to paper and he too could feel tears. “i’m sorry.”

you looked up.

“sorry for what? for saving people? for being a hero?”

“for not being able to keep my promises to you.”

he walks towards you and crouches to your level.

“i promised you a quiet life. far far from here, from the villains and the monsters. i promised you our cat and dogs. a future.”

“don’t beat yourself up, hero life follows you around like a tail.” you let out a broken chuckle.

“it was no excuse for me to not uphold my promise.”

for a moment everything went still. all the resentment and anger that you’d built up against him during his absence seemed to disappear. he was so certain that he was going to marry you. he’d wanted peace and quiet with you. you’d wanted it back with him.

“I’d beg you to stay but i know this is what’s best for us. that no matter how many promises we make to each other, there’ll never be a guarantee. you’re busy falcon-ing and i’m busy not. i need you quino, but i want you to myself, and unfortunately, the world needs you. so you go out there and you kick some bad guy ass, when you decide that you’ve had enough, i’ll be right here. that’s one thing i can guarantee you.” you cup his face with both of your hands and give him a smile. weak, but there.

you rest your foreheads together, your tears starting to slow. you breath in sync, feeling each other for the last time. not feeling physically but emotionally. sharing one last intimate moment.

his face starts to angle closer and closer to yours. you know what he’s doing, you desperately need him to do it. his mouth is a breath away, your heart is beating in anticipation. he pauses just before you make contact, an unsure pause, as if he thought you didn’t want it. you close the gap between you two, assuring him that you do want it. that you do want him.

his movements are slow and shaky. your hands remain on his cheeks and his come to cup yours too. it’s raw. no hurry, no anger, no hard feelings. just two lovers saying their last goodbyes without words. neither of you move. his taste is so sweet, you could be hung on his lips forever. his lips were slightly chapped, nothing you couldn’t handle. they were something you’d grown quite fond of throughout your relationship. he was unlike anyone else you’d ever been with. his kisses were definitely unlike anything you’d ever felt.

it almost killed you to pull away. he opened his eyes to look at you but you kept yours closed. you knew if you opened them you’d see the tears flowing down his face. you’d see the pure dejected look on his eyes that always held joy in them. of course you wanted to see him for the last time, it’s the face of your true love looking at you with pure devotion. joaquín torres is known for being a joyful. his happy go lucky attitude and positivity is basically his trademark. so you almost felt special knowing that you were the only person to see him like this. teary eyed and broken.