rodrikstark's headcanons (part 1)

j. torres + summer

every summer, joaquin insists on a road trip

the goal: to visit his abuela, then your family

but he likes meandering along the way

while you don't necessarily enjoy the hours spent driving through the blistering heat—especially with how your sweaty thighs tend to stick to his seat—you agree to it every time

giggling at joaquin as he jams along to his carefully curated road trip playlists

you picking out his favorite gas station snacks while he fills up the car

occasionally buying popsicles or ice cream from the freezer to beat the heat, and kissing him right after because you like tasting the sweetness off his lips

he chastises you for distracting him while driving

you eat lunches at small diners in whatever town you landed in for the day, and joaquin always finds a way to befriend the locals with his jokes and stories and charm

(he's so charming)

(it's a little overwhelming, you think, as you watch him drive)

pass by anything scenic, and he'll pull over without hesitation, holding you close so that—together—you can watch the warm orangey sun drift below the horizon, or smell the salted air as you listen to blue waves crash over the coast

with joaquin, somehow, there's always a story you've never heard, a place you've never seen.