bowie-frommars

[bowie-frommars]

This is my Superbowl!!!

Summer Project

Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Sister!virgin!Reader

Issue #9: Feelings...or Just Sex?

previous chapter | next chapter Summer Project Masterlist • Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list • fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

Summary: You're alone (in a hotel room) with Santiago. Finally.

Content: warnings on the fic masterlist, discussions of safe sex, aftercare, self-doubt

wc: 3.2k

"You're here," Santiago said, his words a rush of unexpected excitement. He reached for your elbows to pull you inside, pausing as he noticed an overnight duffel.

"I-I don't have to stay," you deflected. "Or bother you, if you're concentrating on work. I just had to see you."

Dark eyebrows arched longingly, eyes gleaming as he coaxed you inside his hotel room, gallantly taking your bag and urging you past the threshold, securing the lock behind you.

He turned his back on you for only a moment, long enough to stash your bag carefully on the nearest chair before spinning around and caging you in, up against the door.

"You're here," he repeated, hips pressing into yours with a memorized possessiveness, yet gentle and unhurried. His hands cradled your face, fingertips tracing the line of your jaw while his thumb swiped tenderly over your parted, panting lips.

Hands fisting his soft, white t-shirt, you smiled against his mouth, nodding once. "Yeah. Is it okay that I'm here?"

He hummed an affirmation, touching his forehead to yours, sharing your breath as he held himself still. "Are we...can we...did you want to talk, or - "

Yanking him closer, you kissed him hungrily, the familiar feel of his lips igniting a sweet ache in your chest. How many times had you kissed him by now, nearly all of them stolen?

In the dark of your bedroom the first time you touched him - the first time you heard him pant your name and felt his body shudder in your hand.

Stolen kisses in the laundry room ever since Jace made his accusations, since you'd failed to find one plausible excuse to return to Santiago's house to continue what you started those first few not-dates.

His hand brushing across the curve of your back as he passed you in the kitchen at Frankie's barbecue, his arm rubbing up against yours as you conveniently volunteered to wash the dishes together. Touching but not kissing, not privacy, not this.

The way he showed up to hang out with Frankie just as you were leaving babysitting duty, your eyes fixed on his as you handed sweet baby Vinnie over to his dad. Santiago walked you out to your car in broad daylight, a few kind words the only thing he could give you as he squeezed your hand before you left.

Hand still cupping your cheek, he guided your mouth against his, kissing you with unrestrained fervor as the realization set in that this was no stolen moment in the woods. A surge of possession swept over him as he ran his hands down your body, cupping your breasts hungrily before gripping your hips and squeezing.

You released your grip on his shirt, hands clawing their way behind his neck, where you slid your fingers into his shower fresh curls and pulled your body flush against his.

He groaned into your mouth, hands flying all over you, as if he couldn't decide where he needed to feel you most. You yanked on his hair hard enough to break the kiss only for a moment. Santi hissed in surprise, eyes darkening as he watched you panting.

His hands gripped the meat of your thighs, surprising you. You gasped out as he slid his fingers up underneath the hem of your shorts to feel the rounded curve of your ass. He nibbled on your chin, then your jaw, heated breaths drawing sweet, desperate whimpers from you throat as he laid seductive kisses across your neck.

His name left your lips in a whine as he sucked the spot below your ear.

"Come to bed with me."

His mouth found its way back to yours, kissing you furiously before finally forcing himself to wait, to get you where he really wanted you, underneath him.

As you stepped apart, hands joined, chests heaving with desire and breathless anticipation, he brought one of your hands to his lips and pressed an adoring kiss there.

"Come on."

Fingers tangled, you nodded eagerly, following his lead. He guided you to the edge of the bed, where you both sat down. Reaching out to touch your face, he smiled at you, eyes dipping to your mouth. He wet his lips but cleared his throat as if he needed a reset.

"I can't believe you're here." He exhaled in a rush. "I'm glad you came."

Scooting a little closer, he kept one hand on your cheek, touching his forehead to yours, driven to distraction by the way your chest heaved as if you couldn't quite catch your breath. You were ravishing, even in a t-shirt and shorts, and it was damn distracting. "You okay? You know we can take this slow."

You silenced him again, sealing your mouth to his, the softness and sweet pressure of his lips evoking a soft moan, passing heatedly between you.

"I don't want to take it slow," you breathlessly uttered, reaching for him, needing to feel your body sink into his. His forearms flexed against your back as he pulled you closer, groaning as you climbed across his lap, spreading your thighs and pressing yourself against him intimately.

"I want you," you panted, gripping his shoulders for support as you rolled your hips against him. "Do you want me?"

Santiago wondered what kind of question you thought you were asking him. Did he want you? Did he want to touch you? Always. Did he want to fuck you? Desperately. Did he want you, really, truly you? Well, he couldn't afford to think about that. It was impossible for so many reasons, so every possibility, by necessity, needed to be boiled down and channeled into giving you sex: the one and only thing you could ever need from him. The thing he was good at, and that he could do for you without fucking it up, without hurting you, wrecking your whole family dynamic.

Fingers digging into your spine, he pressed your body down as he thrust up into you, zeroing in on the physical sensations between you. "You feel what you do to me? I want you. You're all I can fucking think about."

You nodded, pressing your hands against his chest, wondering if his heart was thundering half as loudly as yours. With your grip firm on his shirt, you balled it up in your fists, yanking it upward impatiently.

Santiago let out a chuckle at your determination, helping you remove his t-shirt and toss it aside. Before you touched him again, however, his fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt. "You too."

"Okay," you breathlessly laughed, working with him to get it off, shivering with anticipation over what he would think of your white corset, the one he'd missed the opportunity to see at the wedding, hidden so carefully underneath a casual, oversized t-shirt.

He exhaled shakily, all the moisture leaving his mouth at the way the sensual satin and soft lace hugged your curves in all the right ways. Sexy laces crisscrossed all the way up to the center of your breasts - the round swell of your soft skin spilling so scandalously that he had to touch you, to taste you, hauling you up on your knees so his lips could latch on to the pillowy soft skin there.

Your breath stuttered as he sucked long and hard enough to leave his mark on you, then dragged his tongue across your cleavage to do the same thing on the other side.

One hand crept up to toy with the laces, deftly easing them from their fastening points, and for this, he stopped and fixed his eyes on yours, gazing hazily up at you through long lashes as you stood on your knees slightly above him.

"I bought it for you," you confessed in a rush. "So you would see it and know that I wanted you to touch me like this."

Although he was panting, the corner of his mouth curled in its trademark way. "I know you do." Hands working faster, he finally loosened the ties, allowing your tits to spill free. You thrust them shamelessly toward his mouth, a hungry moan filling the room as he licked and sucked at your nipples, working you up slow and steady, reminding you of how his tongue felt on your clit that night of the wedding, the last night you did anything more but miss him and kiss him.

He kissed a trail to your other nipple and sucked you into his mouth, hands feeling their way down to your shorts.

"Take these off," he ordered, a few satisfying moments later, lips swollen and wet, chest heaving as he watched you stand and obey him. You posed before him in your white lace panties and half tied corset, nipples swollen, wet and erect.

"Do you like it?" You asked him so sweetly, eyes blinking as you twisted this way and that, putting yourself on display for his pleasure, something so softly innocent and scandalously sexy at the same time.

But he couldn't even find the words, instead pulling you back to him urgently, collapsing with you in a desperate tangle on the bed, rolling you underneath him and kissing you hungrily. "Tell me...make sure you tell me to stop," he gasped, in between the salacious rolling of his tongue over yours as his hands devoured every inch of your skin he could get to.

"I don't want you to stop," you purred against his ear, the shower fresh scent of his skin intoxicating you like a drug. Using your feet to push at the waistband of his shorts, you whined, "I want you to take these off."

He chuckled against your cheek, helping you work him free of the rest of his clothes. You dragged your toes up the back of his thigh, using your leg to pull him down so you could feel the heaviness of his hard cock against the flimsy material of your soaking wet panties.

"Got you naked first," you hotly breathed, nibbling on his ear, humming with satisfaction as he rubbed himself against your aching center.

"I'm gonna let you have this moment," he groaned, the feel of damp lace barely covering your sweet cunt making him twitch and thrust harder. "Cause any minute now, I'm gonna lose control of myself."

"Good," you whispered, fingers returning to his curls, twirling temptingly. "We're finally alone. We have all night."

Santi shifted his hips, hitting a new spot that elicited a gasp as the lace dragged deliciously over your clit. "Right there?" He shot you a cocky smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you panted, nodding eagerly. "god..."

He kissed you hard, rocking against you for a few more delicious thrusts, while knowing he had to maintain some control, despite his previous threat to the contrary.

Biting your lip barely enough to sting, he sucked it into his mouth before attaching his lips to your throat, sucking hotly. Kissing his way down your body, he smiled against your skin as your breath hitched, soft moans spilling from your kiss swollen lips.

He finally made it to your already ruined pretty panties, sagging with your slick and barely covering the bits he wanted to taste most. With one swift movement, he yanked them down to your knees, unbothered with the notion of pulling them all the way off your legs before he separated your folds with his fingers and licked you roughy.

"oh fuck..." you gasped, squirming in his grasp as he worked you over, lapping at you the way he did at the wedding, but with a determined vigor, driven by the sinful sounds you gasped and moaned and uttered.

Still, he tore his mouth away reluctantly, checking with you. He reached for your hand, peering up through his eyelashes. "You okay, baby? You taste so good, you're fucking perfect."

"I'm good," you whimpered. "Don't stop."

He huffed out a satisfied chuckle, grinning wolfishly but undercutting his playfulness with a soft kiss to your stomach. "I won't stop again."

Lowering his lips, he sucked on your clit, gently at first, then harder, flicking his tongue in between long, slow sucks. His fingertips toyed with your folds, groaning at how wet you were before he pushed a finger inside your hot walls, swirling a few times before adding a second finger.

You were tight and he wanted to work you open a little bit because he was 100% certain of what you were here to do - what you wanted from him. All you would ever want from him. And he was ready to give it to you, but would take every second until the sun rose if he had to, to make it good for you.

"Santi, please...please," You begged, and he realized that his thoughts distracted him, only for a moment, from curling his fingers into the spongy softness inside you. He moved faster, working you closer to the edge, and thankful he wasn't his younger self, or the sounds you uttered would have made him come all over your leg by now.

Your breathing devolved into shallow pants, the muscles in your body tensing as your walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers. Digging your heels into the mattress, you arched into him, a delicious cry of pleasure echoing off the hotel room walls as you gushed all over his mouth and fingers.

He waited until you you quieted before gingerly easing his thick fingers out of you, pressing another kiss to your stomach before climbing his way to rest beside you.

"That's my girl," he roughly whispered, arms possessively folding you against his chest. "You did so good for me."

Hearing him call you that - his girl - something you'd heard a thousand times - in this setting set something aflame inside you. Finding it hard to calm down or slow your erratic breathing, you gripped his arms, panting against his chest as pleasure continued to surge through your body. You would swear your mind and heart were breaking the damn "feelings rule", except that you had no practical experience for this situation. Maybe it was just good sex. Oral sex, anyway. Santi had probably felt this a dozen times with other women far more sexy and experienced than you.

"I got you, baby." His palm spread across your back, pressing you closer. "Just breathe."

Fuck, he was so sweet you could cry.

He watched you carefully as you came down, reaching over to the nightstand for his bottled water. He made you drink a little, waiting until you were calm before kissing you softly. "That good, huh?"

You pushed playfully against his chest but met his eyes confidently. "So good. Is it like an 'I'm-such-a-virgin' thing or are you just that good at it?"

He granted you a cocky smirk, kissing the tip of your nose before returning the water bottle to the nightstand. "It's definitely all me, let's go with that."

"Stop it," you giggled, as he goosed your ribs, wrestling you into a sensual kiss. As you sucked on his lips, humming contentedly, you pushed your thigh temptingly against his cock, hard and heavy and aching for some relief.

"Can I touch you now?" You asked him seriously, tracing up his inner thigh with your fingertips, giving him the chance to say no.

"I want you to, but -"

"Are you going to tell me I don't have to touch you again?" You sighed, your face adorably screwed up in frustration and confusion. "If you don't want to, just tell me. I would never hold that against you, but why do you think I don't want to -"

He grabbed your wrist and guided your hand to his cock, breathing harshly against your lips. "Touch it. I want you to. But I never want you to think you have to just because I touched you." He swallowed hard.

You nodded slowly, blinking at him sweetly. "I want to. Do you want me to use my mouth? You could show me."

"Baby," he groaned at the tempting proposition, pressing an urgent kiss to your lips. "I want that. I want all of that. Everything." He eased back enough to look into your eyes. "But first, tell me what you wanted when you drove all the way to my hotel tonight."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you shook your head slightly, confused. "This. I want you."

"Okay," he responded, his voice soft and his gaze open and gentle. "We can touch each other all night if you want. I want that too. Do you want more than that? Or do you want to wait?" He threaded his fingers through yours. "I know we talked about this when you told me the rules."

Ah, the talk after the talk. The discussion of real ground rules, where you and Santi decided to get tested. Even though you were a virgin, you assumed it couldn't hurt. Both of your tests came back clean. Santiago assured you he'd always used condoms, and told you which ones he typically liked to use. You let him know you'd been on birth control for over a year. (Since you started dating Marcus, to be exact).

Resting his forehead against yours - a move you were coming to love from him - he whispered your name. "It doesn't have to be tonight. It doesn't have to be here just because we're alone. We can be alone again. I wanna make sure we want the same thing."

"I want to," you quietly uttered. "I want to so bad."

"Me too," he breathlessly returned. "But I don't actually have any condoms with me. I thought this would happen at my house. Um - I might have one in my wallet, but it's been a while - "

"I brought the kind of condoms you said. I-is that okay?"

His eyes widened as he realized how prepared you were - how ready to do this. And something deep inside him began to burn with raw want - that he might really be the one to share this with you, and that he would know what it felt like to be inside you after thinking about it nonstop for weeks.

"You're ready." It wasn't a question. Exhaling in a rush, he smiled softly, pressing his mouth to yours.

"Santi, just one more thing," you whispered sweetly against his lips, fingers toying with the hair behind his ears. "I was wondering, and -you can say no, it's okay. But, since it's my first time, I was wondering if we could try it without a condom. Promise you'll say no if you think we shouldn't."

He cursed under his breath, shifting uncomfortably, so fucking hard and ready to push you down on this mattress and fuck you raw, while simultaneously wanting to take you apart, piece by piece, all night long.

"Yeah, baby, yeah, we can do that." He could barely get the words out of his mouth before he was on you, yanking at the remaining ties of your corset to get you naked and under him before his lost his goddam mind.

You kicked your panties the rest of the way off your feet, gasping as he hauled you up just enough to pull you free of your lingerie. He laid you back down and stared at you. Lips kiss swollen and wet, parted and panting, eyes heavy with desire, breasts heaving. He felt drunk on the smell of you, the sight of you bare and wanting, needing him to fuck you.

Finally.

previous chapter | next chapter Summer Project Masterlist • Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list • fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

[bowie-frommars]

[bowie-frommars]

Need them together so bad!!! 😭

Summer Project

Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Sister!virgin!Reader

Issue #5: Can I Touch You...or Not?

previous | Summer Project Masterlist

Summary: Santi "drank too much" and has to stay at your house again. Conveniently.

Content: sexy bedroom times, please refer to overall series content warnings on the Summer Project Masterlist to avoid chapter spoilers

wc: 1.6k

Santiago Garcia was lying on your couch downstairs. No thought or reality had ever driven sleep from your body so utterly.

‘Are you awake?’ You texted.

‘yep’

'Come to my room.'

Your phone buzzed Santiago's reply. 'that breaks rule #1 so hard, i'll get murdered.'

Fair point, but the thought of him sneaking into your room overrode common sense.

'Don't be a pussy’

'don't say the word pussy to me, i'm so fucking hard just thinking of you up there in your bed'

Bingo.

'My pussy is soaked. Should I do this myself?'

Nothing. Hm. Maybe you overplayed your hand. But why else did he stay? You knew him. He wasn’t drunk. He would never cross Diego’s rules on the boat.

Then your phone buzzed.

'Knock knock.'

You flew out of your bed so fast, your phone thumped onto the ground. You yanked open the door to find Santi waiting on the other side, phone in his hand.

"Could you be any louder?" He whispered, unable to stop his smile as he hurried inside.

The two of you quietly laughed, making sure to lock the door before he was all over you.

His mouth sought yours out in the dark and he kissed you messily, only stopping a couple of times to whisper, 'shhh' as he walked you back to your bed.

In 2 seconds, he yanked down your shorts and pushed his fingers between your folds.

"Fuck baby, you're soaked, you weren't kidding."

You gasped as he slid his fingertip over your clit.

"All day long, I wanted you to touch me," you confessed breathlessly, touching anywhere your hands could reach.

"You were teasing me in that bikini. All I wanted to do was push that flimsy material aside and make you come."

"Make me come," you echoed, as he laid you down on the bed, barely missing a second before he slid his fingers all the way inside you. The stretch of it pulled a sharp hiss from your mouth, giving him pause.

Gripping his shoulders, you whined for him not to stop, the relief of finally feeling him so powerful you couldn't even think straight.

"Quiet, baby, that's it," he told you, his voice low and gruff on your ear, heated breaths sending a shiver of pleasure down to your toes. "Take what you want, but quiet."

He kissed you hard, stifling your moans as you eagerly rocked your hips into his fingers, so wildly turned on by the secrecy, by how much you wanted this, and how much of a tease it was to see him all day, looking so delicious but to have to pretend he couldn't make you fall apart...

You came so fast, your pussy clenching his fingers. Santi kept your mouth busy until your body relaxed, his tongue tangled with yours as little whimpers of ecstasy slipped past your locked lips.

"Oh my god..." you panted while he slowly pulled his fingers out of you.

Rolling onto your side, you reached for the hem of his shorts, but he pulled back, gently grasping your wrist.

"You don't have to."

"Let me touch you," you whined. "Don't you want me to?"

"Yes," he panted, his forehead touching yours. "yes...fuck, I want you to. But you don’t have to.”

“Come here.” You slipped your hand into his shorts, licking your lips as you felt him hard and heavy. Your breathing hitched at the thought of finally knowing what his cock felt like, looked like. You stroked him gently as he hissed out a curse. How something could be so hard and soft at the same time was amazing. He twitched in your hand.

"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel," you breathed against his mouth. "Show me."

"Fuck," he gasped. "Yeah okay. Hold on." He pushed his shorts down and kicked them off, leaving both of you naked from the waist down. His eyes drifted over to your bare pussy before he squeezed them shut at the thoughts playing in his head.

Summoning his self-control, he tried to ignore how much he wanted to climb on top of you and push his leaking tip into your wet hole.

"Santi?" Your voice, whispered and sweet, brought him back to the moment. "Can I touch you?"

"Yeah," he grunted, grasping your wrist. Bringing your palm up to his mouth, he spit on it.

"Oh," you gasped, surprised, but extremely intrigued, almost going weak seeing this side of him.

"Like this, get it wet a little bit," he instructed, his voice so gruff like this, alone, exposed.

You obediently spat into your hand. A deep sound of approval rumbled in his chest as he placed your palm on his dick.

"You ever done this baby?"

His breath tickled your cheek as you gripped him and slowly started jerking him off. "Yeah, o-once," you whispered. "I don't know if I did it right."

"Jesus, what kind of assholes have you dated? You're so fucking hot like this." He kept his head raised, watching you work his length while innocently blinking at him.

An idea came to your mind, blooming to life as soon as Santi called you hot. You leaned down and spit on his cock, making it wetter and easier for your hand to slide up and down.

"Fuck baby just like that. Holy shit," he panted, every noise he made giving you confidence that maybe he did want you and that damn bikini was worth it.

Santi's lips found yours as he thrust into your hand. The two of you tried your best to stay quiet, making out sloppily while you jerked him.

Blindly reaching for your hip, he pulled you closer, fumbling around until he found your cunt, wetter now than when you came a few minutes ago. He stuffed his fingers back inside you, growling into your kiss as you fucked yourself eagerly down on his hand. Overwhelmed by the stretch of his fingers, the pulsing, twitching cock in your grip, you tore your mouth from his, panting against his lips as you got each other off.

It didn't take you long to come, and once again, he swallowed your cries of pleasure with a kiss. You slowed down your pace as your orgasm washed over you. But you didn't stop. "I wanna make you come too." Your voice fell on his ear, a breathless whine.

"I'm - fuck, I'm so close," he hissed, his hips snapping into your grip as his delicious mouth fell open in pleasure.

"Is it okay if I...I'm gonna... it's gonna be messy." His eyes found yours and you laughed quietly, kissing him salaciously while he spurted all over your hand, coating it, and making a mess of both his shirt and yours.

You slowly released him as his head flopped against the pillow. "Holy shit," he panted.

"Was it okay?" You asked him seriously, wiping your hand on your shirt and sitting up beside him.

"Yes," he breathed, eyes heavy and sated, drifting up to yours as he squeezed your bare thigh. "So good. You did so good."

With a huff of determination, he pushed off the bed, removing his soiled shirt, rolling it into a ball, setting it aside and reaching for his shorts. Before he pulled them back on, you got a glimpse of completely-in-the-dark, totally naked Santiago Garcia. You’d seen him mostly naked, in swim trunks or the occasional boxers, but he wasn’t naked. Or in your bedroom with his cum all over your shirt and his fingers wet with your slick.

"I better go back downstairs," he said softly, regretfully, interrupting your musing.

"Okay," you meekly agreed, following his lead by pulling your soiled shirt over your head and wadding it up. This left you completely naked.

Santi let out a little gasp, reaching for your shirt. "I'll wash it for you," he offered, eyes traveling all the way down and back up your body slowly. "Don't want your brothers to find that."

"Thank you." Your voice came out as a tiny whisper as Santi moved closer.

He wet his lips, whispering your name, setting the shirt down.

"You can stay," you told him, reaching for his hands. You squeezed gently, bringing them to your hips. Pushing into his personal space, you pressed your breasts against his bare chest and wrapped your arms around his neck. “A few more minutes?”

His eyes drifted closed as his hands squeezed your hips. "I-I can't. If I stay up here any longer..." He shook his head, trying his hardest not to kiss you.

"Rule number 1?"

"Yeah."

He pulled away abruptly, walking over to the door, trying to make himself leave, but paused, hand on the doorknob.

Your breath hitched as you waited for him to leave, desperately wishing you had endless hours together to explore each other’s bodies.

Suddenly, his head dropped in defeat and he whirled around, crossing the room in three determined strides.

He gathered you into his arms and crushed his mouth to yours, hands touching you all over, using any restraint he had left to lower you to the bed as quietly as possible.

He climbed on top of you, settling in against you, grinding against your core, palming at your tits and kissing you hard. You whimpered into the kiss, too stunned and wildly turned on to do much more than blindly reach for his torso to hold him against you.

Only a second later, he tore his mouth from yours, panting wildly against your cheek. "Sorry, I'm sorry." Releasing you, he climbed out of bed, pushing his fingers through his hair. “Sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"Santi, it's okay," you assured him, quickly following after him. "I'm not upset. I wanted to."

He was already crossing the room, but whirled around as you grabbed onto his arm. "Not like this, okay?"

Seeing your eyes go wide and your breath tremble, he hushed you. "It's okay. Everything's okay. I just...I shouldn't have done that. I don't want our first time time to be like that."

"Like what?" You challenged, feeling more exposed than ever.

"Like...here, like this," he whispered emphatically. "With me just..." His hands clenched into fists of determination and he sighed. "Not here, you know? And not...in a hurry. I want it to be...you know..."

You granted him the tiniest hopeful smile. "Special?"

He chuckled tiredly. He needed to take his time with you, not lose control like a damn teenager. "Yeah." His gaze zeroed in on yours. "Yes. Now I gotta go because I cannot be trusted in the room where you're naked. Don’t ask me to stay."

Grasping your arms, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Get some sleep."

Reaching for the robe hanging by your closet, you quickly pulled it around your body, holding it closed with your crossed arms as he walked away.

"Santiago?" You whispered.

He paused at your door, turning his head to the side. "What?"

"Are you always so damn bossy?"

He turned around and smiled at the sight of your robe. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

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[bowie-frommars]

God, I love Santi.

Summer Project Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Sister!virgin!Reader

Issue #3: Rule 1...or 3?

previous | Summer Project Masterlist

Summary: You're ready to get this lose-your-virginity show on the road, but Santiago seems to be taking his time, only seeing you around your brothers...until you're finally alone again.

Content: psa I have no idea what kind of fighting Benny does and I don't care either so, otherwise please refer to overall series content warnings Summer Project Masterlist

wc: 3.5k

"Hey," you greeted Angelica, Frankie's wife, taking your seat at Benny's fight, almost shouting so she could hear you over the rowdy crowd. The tang of beer filled the air as lights flashed wildly enough to give nearly anyone a seizure.

"Hey, girl," she answered, bumping your shoulder before flipping her voluminous dark curls behind hers. "Where are the twins? They coming?"

"No, they went on vacation with their family," you laughed, knowing she was referring to Fiona and Anna, who were not, in fact, twins. Close enough.

"Who has the baby?"

"My mom," she replied, just as the concession worker passed by. Angelica quickly flagged him down and paid for 2 beers. "Want one?"

"No thanks," you told her.

"Good. More for me. The baby's already asleep at my mom’s and it's mami's turn to let loooooose!" The two of you giggled and high fived.

Right then, the lights focused on one corner of the room, the music cranked up to an eardrum splitting thump and your brother's name boomed through the speakers. He strutted in like some kind of badass (he was), flanked by Will, Frankie and Santiago, who was wearing his favorite baseball cap. Diego was missing from Benny's entourage since he was at a long nursing shift at the hospital.

While the crowd screamed for your shirtless brother, you stared at Santi, your heart fluttering as he flashed a smile.

You and Angelica jumped up and down, cheering Benny's name, but Angelica also waved frantically at her husband, who actually did hear her. It was like he could sense where she was, and he blew her a kiss.

"Aww he is so sweet," you gushed as the two of you took your seats.

You didn't have to wait long for Santi and Frankie to join you, while Will stayed close to his brother's corner of the ring.

"Hey babyyyy," Angelica gushed, throwing her arms around Frankie's neck and pulling him in for a kiss, almost knocking off his Standard Oil baseball cap.

You chuckled at the cute couple, eyes dipping as Santiago sidestepped them, taking the seat immediately to your right.

"Hey." He smiled at you, then licked his lips. "You look good."

Your cheeks heated. "Thanks. You too."

"Hey, kiddo," Frankie piped, leaning over his wife, who was sitting on your left. "Where's your brother?"

"You mean Jace?" You scoffed. "I have no idea. I've been gone for most of the last 4 years. Does he ever come to these things?"

Frankie and Santi exchanged curious glances.

"I was just checking because he said he was coming."

As if on cue, Jace shouldered his way through the crowd, frowning as he saw no available seats for him.

"Thanks for saving a seat, guys," he groaned.

Only Jace would arrive at one of Benny's fights in khaki pants. Of course, he could feel free to dress how he liked. His grumpy ass personality was the real sticking point for most people.

"All good. Sit here." Santi jumped up and your heart sank. You were looking forward to a fun night with Frankie and Angelica, next to Santi, looking so good, bumping arms with him, making jokes. Then again, you hadn't really spent time with Jace in a long while.

Everyone else in your little group had attended tons more fights than you. They shared a certain dynamic and you were the odd man out. Maybe your presence would throw the vibe off.

"It's okay, I'll go stand," you offered. "You guys normally sit up front. I haven't been to a fight in forever."

"No, no, no - " Santiago and Frankie both objected.

You glanced between them questioningly.

"I don't want you walking around here by yourself during the fight," Santi explained. "You stay. I'll go. It's okay."

Your eyes followed Santi longingly as he pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared.

"Ben should have gotten us more seats," Jace complained. "This is ridiculous."

"He's not used to me being here," you defended.

Jace took Santiago's seat, glancing your way. "How could he forget his favorite sibling? It's me he forgot." His words sounded bitter but he smiled at you.

"No way, it's a middle child conspiracy," you giggled, hoping Jace would at least be in an amiable mood tonight.

"If you say so," he shrugged, his attention pulled away by whoops from the crowd as Benny's opponent got in several good licks. "Oh shit..."

Watching your brother get pummeled was not something you could ever got used to. Firstly, because he was usually the one beating his opponent's ass, and secondly, you really had missed years of fights, so it could be jarring.

"Nah, he's got this, LET'S GO BENNAYYYY!" Frankie shouted, with Angelica joining him.

You cheered enthusiastically as Benny broke free and landed some blows of his own.

After a few restless moments, your desire to see Santiago outweighed your ability to stay put. "I'm going to get a drink."

"I'll go with," Frankie offered, rather protectively, but you shook your head.

"It's right over there. I'm fine. I'll be right back." You could feel Frankie's gaze on you until you drifted out of sight.

Shouldering your way through half drunk, rowdy men, your eyes scanned the room for Santi, who was indeed standing near the back, cheering on your brother. You should be cheering too but thoughts of talking to Santi (and looking at him) distracted you utterly.

"Hey, what are you doing back here?" He grasped your shoulders and pulled you close to him protectively.

"I just wanted a drink," you offered your lame excuse.

"Do you know how many assholes are in here? Why didn't you text me to bring you one?" His eyes softened as you frowned. "Come on, I'll go with. Stay close, okay?"

Grasping your hand, he guided you through the crowd, pausing to shield you with his body as you passed by a particularly rowdy group who probably already had too much to drink.

"This place is super classy," you joked, but your words died as soon as they left your mouth and you found yourself face to face with Santiago, your chest pressed to his as he protected you from two guys shoving each other. Santi was shorter than almost everyone in the building but you knew he could drop almost any guy in the room with minimal effort.

"Come on, this way," he said gruffly, his eyes flickering down to your mouth. Neither of you moved, the sounds around you fading to a dull roar as his arm slipped around your waist.

A cheer went up, breaking your trance, and a pang of guilt made you realize you were missing your brother's fight.

Santi grasped your hand again, nodding toward the concession stand which was several feet away. The two of you took your places in line, standing so close, you felt the heat of his body.

"You want a beer?" His voice tickled your ear as he slid his fingers through yours, squeezing gently.

"Yeah, thanks," you answered him, your heart racing as his thumb stroked yours.

"Sorry about the alpha male protective thing." He leaned in so close you could smell his aftershave. If you turned your head even a fraction, you could kiss him.

"It's okay. This place has gotten a lot wilder."

Santis eyes were alert, checking to make sure you wouldn't inadvertently break rule #1: your three brothers were here, not to mention Frankie and Angelica. And they could not know.

But standing in line, with his body close to yours, his fingers tangled with yours, you started to wonder why this felt like a date instead of Project: Lose Virginity.

You wanted Santiago to kiss you so badly the night of the fight but the two of you never found yourselves entirely alone. Still, you had a lot of fun with your family and friends and Benny won his fight. Even Jace was in a good mood.

Your next not-date with Santiago happened two nights after Benny's fight. You wore a matching bra and panty set in black lace, you picked out an outfit that you typically got compliments on but wasn't over the top.

Santiago opened his front door as you walked up his front path, before you even knocked. You barely cleared the doorway before he pushed into your personal space. He pulled you against him with one arm flexing behind your back, while shoving the door closed with his other hand.

His lips devoured yours as he walked you back until your back thumped gently against the closed door.

"Can't stop thinking about you," he roughly whispered, reaching for your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb before covering your lips with his own and shifting his body to connect with yours at every possible point of contact.

You melted against him, moaning into his mouth, your bag dropping out of your hand to the floor. Your fingers climbed his muscled arms, gripping him and holding on for dear life until you locked them behind his neck and arched your body against his, sucking on his tongue.

A kitchen timer sounded, interrupting you. With a groan, he tore his mouth from yours, touching his forehead to yours. "Gimme a second," he panted.

As you nodded, your eyes fluttered closed at such a greeting.

As Santi finished up preparing dinner, you smoothed your clothes, wiping your kiss swollen lisp with the back of your hand.

You scooped up your bag and set it on a nearby chair, taking the opportunity to get a good look at him. The back side of him anyway as he leaned over to get something out of the oven. You licked your lips at the view, walking over to him, taking care to not get burned by the warm bread in his oven-mitt-covered hand.

"Needs a few more minutes." He winked at you, tucking the bread back in the oven and removing his mitt. Anna and Fi would make a dad joke if they saw Santi cooking and wearing oven mitts.

But he turned on his heel and grasped your hips, pulling you close.

"Hey," he whispered, kissing you quickly. "You look so good. I mean, damn." He eased back giving you a blatant once-over, while keeping hold of your hands.

"Thanks," you sweetly smiled, twisting this way and that temptingly. "You should see what's underneath."

He gulped. "...fuck. Come here." He helped you jump backwards onto the kitchen counter, pushing your legs apart so he could stand in between them. Eyes locked on yours, he ran his palms up your thighs, leaning in to taste your lips one at a time.

Smiling into the kiss, you locked your arms behind his neck, tangling your fingers in his curls which made him growl into your kiss. His fingers inched higher on your thighs, as he tasted you for endless salacious minutes. If you had any doubts about losing your virginity to him, he was rapidly putting them to rest.

He was perfect. Handsome and sweet and you trusted him. Part of you wondered why he said yes to your summer project. Did he just want to sleep with you because you were willing, or was he into it? Into you. Of course that would break rule #3: the feelings rule, but your curiosity was powerful.

You finally made it to the dinner table, but picked at your food. You pushed your food around your plate with your fork, finding yourself catching Santiago’s gaze every few seconds, his warm, earthen eyes studying you carefully. Your cheeks heated as you shyly smiled.

“The food’s terrible?” His eyebrows shot up uncertainly. “Or you’re not hungry.”

“Sorry,” you breathlessly laughed, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really good.”

“But?” He prodded.

“Nothing,” you insisted. “I’m just…distracted.”

“By?” He set his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“You. That was quite a greeting.”

Santi slowly nodded, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest, which showed off the definition of his arms. “Rule number 2. Too fast? Too much? We can slow down.” He shook his head, as if frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Santi, it’s not that at all.” Pushing off your chair, you eased around to his side of table and knelt down in front of him.

Eyeing you curiously, he leaned forward.

“I wanted to. I want to.” Chewing your lip, you reached for his hands. “That’s what I’m thinking about.”

“Yeah?" Seeing your eyes light up in affirmation, a soft sigh of relief passed his lips. "Come here,” he pulled you across his lap and pressed his lips to yours, tasting you slowly.

“Do you have any surprise poker tournaments tonight?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“No, I’m all yours. As long as you want.”

With dinner forsaken, you ended up on the couch, thighs spread across his lap. His hands flew all over you, feeling you up, gripping your hips, squeezing your ass and pressing your body hard against his. Face to face, sharing his breath, feeling him shift underneath you like he simply couldn't feel enough of you.

God, where had someone like this been all your life? Just making out with him was rewiring your brain and taking away all your control. You knew you had the tiniest crush on Santi, particularly since Christmas, when you danced, but you had no idea it would feel like this to be with him.

Santi’s fingers inched underneath the hem of your shirt, pushing upward. “Let me see what’s underneath,” he murmured against your lips, waiting until you nodded to take your shirt off.

His eyes darkened, raking over your lace covered tits. “You wore this for me?” He cupped your breast, kissing the top of the soft flesh.

A soft moan spilled from your lips, but you teased him back. “Wore it for me too.”

“Atta girl,” he grinned against your skin, placing seductive kisses all over the soft curves of your chest, groaning against your skin as you rocked your hips, pushing your core against his hardening length. Every time you rubbed yourself against him, you felt yourself getting wetter.

After working you up for a bit longer, he finally brushed the lace cup aside, leaned down and dragged his tongue over your nipple.

The sound you uttered was completely new to you. A sort of gasped moan that made him smile against you again. You pushed up on your knees, offering your tits to him. He cinched you tight, sucking your nipple into his mouth, ravaging your breast, palming your other one possessively.

His fingers inched around to find the hook of your bra. “Can I - "

“Yes.”

Unhooking your bra with a flick of his thumb and finger got you so hot. He pulled the straps off your shoulders and tossed your bra aside, licking his lips appreciatively at the view.

You impatiently yanked at his shirt, desperate for this feel of his body against yours. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were expecting a phone call to interrupt the way it did last time.

But this time, he ran his palms all over you, pushing up your thighs, gripping your hips, tickling your stomach and palming at your bare tits, sucking on your nipples until you accidentally whimpered, "...please."

"What do you want baby?" He breathed hotly, nipping at your collar bone, then your neck.

"Touch me," you panted, sitting back down on his lap to roll your hips against him.

Releasing his grip on you, he leaned back, eyes dark and hungry. "Easy, sweetheart, I got you."

Helping you stand in front of him, he toyed with the hem of your pants, peering up at you through his unfairly long eyelashes.

"More?" He checked with you.

You eagerly started pushing them down yourself, so he helped slide them off your legs as you stepped out of them. Now you stood before him in only your black lacy panties.

His hands squeezed into fists, resting on his thighs as he wet his lips, peering back up at your face. "You're fucking beautiful."

He gathered you close, cinched you against him and laid you down on the couch, easing half on top of you. His hands flew everywhere, his mouth was heaven as he held you against him, kissing you deeply.

And finally, he pushed his hand between your legs. You arched eagerly into his possessive touch as he cupped your mound. All you could do was grip his shoulders and wildly pant, out of your mind with excitement and desire.

"Can I touch you?" He whispered between wet kisses, the heat of his breath against your skin intoxicating.

"I'll die if you don't."

He growled against your throat, slipping his fingers past the whispy lace of your panties to feel the hot wet core of you.

"There it is," he breathed on your ear. "...you're so wet, you want this so bad. Want me to touch you...make you come for me."

With every panted phrase, he thrust against your thigh - you could feel him hard and needy, heavy, using you for a fraction of relief.

"...please, please." Your pussy clenched as you felt his cock twitch through his pants.

"It's okay, be patient. Be good for me." Dragging one finger through your folds, he found your clit, rubbing slow circles. "Gonna make you feel so good. Make you come on my fingers."

He kept working you until you gasped loudly, and he knew then, that he hit the perfect spot.

"Do you touch yourself like this?" He whispered scandalously, adding another finger to the firm insistent and quickening circles over your clit.

"Oh fuck.." you cried because you definitely did touch yourself like this, with Santiago in mind, no less.

"That's my girl," he smiled against your ear. "You close? You can come as many times as you want. Haven't even put a finger inside you - "

Your back arched off the couch, your breasts pressing deliciously against his bare chest. A pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before, by yourself or with another guy, surged through your body. He'd barely touched your clit and you gushed all over his fingers, moaning loudly, whispering his name as you came down.

"That's it, I got you," he breathed, kissing your neck as your body started to relax, blissed out in a haze of syrupy pleasure. "You're doing so good for me. So good."

His body, warm and firm against yours, his whispered words, praising you, only extended your pleasure, but he waited, letting you ride it out indulgently, nuzzling the spot behind your ear with his nose.

As clarity crept back into the corner of your mind, you felt a near jarring vulnerability, naked, exposed, after how vocal you were moments ago...

Santi's heavy length still rested against your thigh, but he didn't even seemed phased, pulling you apart in minutes, with no mind about his own pleasure.

"You okay?" He asked you softly, easing back so he could see your face.

"Mmm-hm," you nodded, wetting your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. Reaching down, you rubbed your hand over the outline of his cock.

One corner of his mouth curled, as he resumed lazily strumming your clit, slipping his finger easily into your drenched hole. You clenched around him, whimpering as he pushed the pad of his thumb over your clit and swirled his finger inside you.

"This okay?" He whispered, always sweetly checking with you.

You hurriedly nodded, blindly attempting to touch him too but he stopped you. "Just let me take care of you tonight."

Plunging his finger in and out, pressing deliciously on your clit, he kissed you deeply, for an eternity, steadily working his hand faster until you found your hips rocking up to meet his thrusts.

He looked down, watching you fuck yourself on his fingers, pushing his erection harder against your thigh.

"Fuck you look good like this. Take what you want baby."

He felt your sweet cunt start to flutter, clenching when you heard his voice.

"You like when I talk to you while I touch you? Dirty girl," he goaded, increasing the speed and pressure, watching in satisfaction as you bucked your hips faster. "That's it, baby. Fuck my fingers. Doing so good for me. You look so fucking good."

"Oh god Santi..." You gripped his arms for support, only mildly distracted by how you fell apart while he casually fingerfucked you, seeming entirely unflustered.

The pleasure overwhelmed you and you gave yourself over to its powerful surge, your body seizing in bliss, shaking with pleasure.

Santiago talked you back down, holding you tenderly, telling you how good you did for him, how amazing you felt until you slumped back on the couch, worn out.

Sated and mindless, you finally relaxed, coming back to yourself and starting to wonder if Santi even wanted or needed you to touch him back.

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[bowie-frommars]

Guys you don't get it. I NEED to marry Steven Grant or something bad will happen. He needs forehead kisses and companionship!!!!

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DOECHII using her platform to call out Trump and ICE at the BET Awards (2025)

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The dilfism epidemic is too strong!!! I don't know how much more I can take!!

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I'm SO totally NORMAL about this!

pedro singing future days. i need this to be memorialized on my blog forever

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One thing about Santiago Garcia, he's going to ask if you got his text.

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he looks like he works with his hands and smells like marlboro reds 🎀

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this blog hates donald trump

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I love you PBS I love you NPR I love you public libraries I love you wikipedia I love you project gutenberg I love you librivox I love you libby I love you hoopla I love you openlibrary I love you internet archive I love you resources that make information free and accessible to the public

[bowie-frommars]

Between The Pitt and The Last of Us, HBO is feeding my dilf addiction.

I can't keep falling for older men with salt and pepper hair, beard, glasses and sad brown puppy eyes... RELEASE ME PLEASE

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ITS TOO MUCH PEDRO PASCAL CONTENT, 2025

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"give Sarah my love"

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!

[bowie-frommars]

Ugh. It's hard being an anxious baddie.

plumbing therapy

firefighter!poe dameron x reader

part of heat me up au

summary: you have to tell him, or you will never go forward; neither of you will.

tags: f!reader, angst, slight arguing, mentions of ghosting someone, fire trauma, mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, ptsd, fluff, kissing

word count: 2.7k

heat me up masterlist

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

buy me a coffee ☕︎

Poe is standing at your doorstep. Here, unannounced. 

Some part of you is glad to see him, strangely relieved even after you’ve been purposefully avoiding his texts and calls. So you’re quickly aware of the other part of you that feels guilty. It’s a strange mix of feelings, but after all, it’s in line with the way you’ve been feeling this past week, caught between wanting to reach out and wanting to disappear. 

You’re holding onto your open door, your mouth slightly agape with the uncertainty of what you should say or do, what would be the right reaction to his presence if there even is one, but he talks before you can figure any of that out.

“I’ve been told you had a leaky faucet” Poe casually declares with a faint smile that very obviously catches you off guard and strips you off any kind of coherent response, before he brushes past you and makes his way inside like it’s the most normal thing to do after you have disappeared on him for days on end. 

You remain unsure what to say or how to act as he observes your kitchen sink, inspecting the source of the issue as he picks tools from the box you keep in that cabinet. It’s like it all goes too fast for you to comprehend it; he’s being way too nice for the way you have been treating him, like nothing ever happened on his end, it’s almost disconcerting. You were going to text him back, eventually. Once you would have figured it all out on your own, once you knew you could face him without feeling like you were lying to his face and not telling him everything.

You watch as he moves, as he’s sitting on the floor, head under your sink cabinet. “Do you want coffee?” you eventually ask, trying to make yourself feel useful, to not just stand there and do nothing but watch him, speechless.

“Yeah, sure” he responds, his voice muffled under there. 

By the time you’re ready to hand him his steaming cup, he’s already finishing up on repairing the sink. “Here you go,” he stands back up, wiping his hands over a dishcloth before he puts it aside and takes the cup from your hands with a small smile. You try not to linger on the way your fingers brush, giving him a weak smile.

“That was quick.” you mutter. “Thank you. You didn’t have to,” you nod, still a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

He pinches his lips softly, pointing a thumb back at the sink. “You really think I came here just for the sink?” he asks, raising an eyebrow before he brings the mug to his mouth. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” you start– 

He immediately counters. “You weren’t answering me.”

You blink. “I know. I’ve been busy.”

He sighs, scoffing. “Don’t do that,” he pleads in a faint whisper, eyes falling shut as he shakes his head frustratingly. 

Your teeth guiltily sink into your bottom lip, and you both stay silent for a while, until Poe distances himself, setting the mug down on the counter when he realizes you’re not going to say any more. 

Truth is, you’re not sure what to do – tell him the truth, come up with a lie that would cover it all, or nothing. 

Poe runs a hand over his face, turned away from you. “Is it something I did?” he eventually asks, turning back to you.

“No” you’re quick to reply, simply because you’re telling the truth here. Your eyes flicker up and down his figure in vulnerable uncertainty. You want to keep him away from this without having to hurt him, but you know it’s going to be easier said than done. 

“What is it then? I thought we were doing fine” he hesitates, his voice straining lightly. The confused and hurt frown over his face makes you feel horrible. “Look, if you think we’re better off as friends–”

“No– no” you firmly counter with haste, immediately stopping him. It’s none of that, and that is the one thing you’re sure about, deep down. “We were doing fine. We are” you nod. “That’s not what it’s about.”

“Then what is it?” he frowns, extending his arms in incomprehension. 

“Nothing.” you shake your head, and try to rub off the headache that is blooming at the center of your skull. You feel Poe shift his position without much patience. You wish he would drop it, but you know him too much to know he simply won’t.

“You know you can tell me anything,” he pleads, his gaze over you softening as he tries to coax you into it. And you actually consider it for a second. Then, you can see yourself being the drag at his feet when you imagine it. 

You try not to dwell on it for too long and you sigh softly, a scattered breath. “It’s nothing. Just– I’m sorry, okay”

He nods slowly, biting on his lip reflectively. “You know what? Forget it.” he mutters before he walks past you, shaking his head as he grabs his jacket resting over the back of a chair.

You’re speechless again. “Poe, come on–” you call out, knowing you fucked this up.

He turns back to you when he reaches your door. “You don’t want me here.”

Just like that, he’s gone, and your apartment is awfully quiet now that the steady, annoying plic ploc of your faucet isn’t a thing anymore.

—

Your hands are shoved down your jacket pockets. 

You’re waiting in the empty briefing room that almost looks like a classroom; rows of lined desks and chairs facing a white board with official Chicago Fire Department posters displayed here and there over the walls. 

Finn left you here after telling you Poe was in the chief’s office and that he’d knock there to let him know you were here waiting for him. Everything from his tone to the way he brought you in a room where you could keep your soon–to–come conversation private told you that he knew about the situation. Finn was always happy to see you but he also knew how to handle people’s moods.

You push yourself off the desk you have been leaning against when Poe enters the briefing room and closes the door behind him. “Hey,” he says softly. 

You give him a small, earnest smile in response. He steps closer to you, and you glance up and down at him. He looks good in his firehouse clothes, but given the situation, you keep the remark for sometime later. “How’s the shift?” you casually ask, a smile tugging at your lips.

He looks around and stops at the clock on the wall. “Uh, pretty fucking slow.” he grins. “Just a call so far, but you know, there’s six hours left, and when we make remarks about it being a slow shift that’s usually when the calls come” he chuckles. You huff out a laugh and nod. “Jeez, six hours left, what are you doing here so late? It’s two in the morning” he questions, a startled frown drawing over his face as he realizes.

“Couldn’t sleep, owed you an explanation and that firehouse is roughly a five minute walk from my apartment” you explain, drawing a small chuckle from him. 

“Alright. Get it on” he spurs you on.

You sigh heavily, rubbing a hand over your mouth before you start. “Okay, uh– I get nightmares about the fire.” you finally admit. Poe adjusts his position onto his feet but doesn’t say anything, just intently listening to you, waiting for you to go on. “Not only nightmares. It's been… present. And it’s been manifesting through the form of panic attacks” you confess, your throat tightening just from having to talk about it, giving it life when you say it out loud.  

“That's why I’ve been distant. Because I felt like keeping it from you was like I was lying to your face, and I didn’t want you to know, because I didn’t know how to handle it all” you nod, your gaze finally meeting his. “I do realize this wasn’t the right thing to do, though”

His gaze roams over your face attentively. He's slightly upset, you can see it on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, hurt, borderline offended.

“You already see so many things here on the job. Things I can’t even imagine. I didn’t want to feel like a burden.”

“That’s not the same thing!” he huffs out, sharper than he means to. You shrug, bringing a hand to your face, rubbing your eyes tiredly. He comes closer, his hand coming to rest against your arm. “We could have handled it together” he eventually says, his voice steadier, softer, and your gaze darts back up to his face. 

“I know, but god, don’t do that” you sigh, pulling away. It’s right here, right in front of you. Everything you have been dreading. 

“Do what?” he blinks, clearly thrown off by your reproachful tone.

“Look at me like you have to fix me.” you say, harsher than you mean to. “Like I’m some fucking wounded animal”

His brows knit, and he takes a breath like he’s trying not to react too fast. “That’s not– That’s not the way I see you, baby.” he shakes his head, stepping closer to you again, cautiously. The nickname makes your heart feel heavier. “The whole opposite, actually. You’ve been handling this better than you think.” he declares, his hand cupping the side of your face, the pad of his thumb grazing your cheek. You can’t help but lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut. “Believe me,” he murmurs. “I know what I’m talking about.”

You swallow hard and pull yourself into him, the tension in your chest and your shoulders beginning to wash off, your jaw unclenching as you step forward and fold yourself into him. His arm closes around you, his hand gently weaving into your hair. “It doesn’t feel like it” you murmur, your throat compressed with the weight of it all. 

Your cheek is pressed against him as he just holds you for a moment without either of you saying anything, the silence between being just as telling as the actual conversation. 

“How long have you been having those nightmares?” he eventually asks, his voice low. You feel his arm loosen up around your back until only the ghost of his touch remains, guiding you so you can face each other.

“Since the fire”

“The panic attacks too?”

You shake your head. “Strangely, no” you admit quietly. “I mean, I could get anxiety about the fire at moments but it intensified when I moved into my new place. I think I'm scared it could happen again now that I finally have a place of my own again” you explain.

He exhales through his nose and hums softly, thoughtfully. “Okay. Look, I wish I could tell you I know how to do this and how to help you” he says, his fingers brushing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear before resting lightly along your jaw. “But the truth is, I pull people out of fires then my life goes on. That's the job. We save people then we let em go” his voice falters a bit, like he’s second guessing the supposed detachment in that. “But I’m not letting you go. And I'll do my best to help you through this, okay?” 

Your gaze flickers, eyes stinging with the threat of tears. “Okay,” you croak out, your voice cracked. The gentleness and warmth in his eyes could easily make you believe anything he says.

“One thing I know is it's very unlikely to happen a second time” he nods. “But I can get everything checked out if you want me to. Vents, radiators, power outlets, everything. If it can help you feel safer”

Your throat tightens again, but for a different reason. Feeling seen. Feeling cared for. 

“Thank you” you whisper under your breath, meaning it more than you have ever meant any other thank you. He nods, giving you a hopeful smile, quickly wiping away the stray tear running down your cheek.

“But most of all,” he starts, his expression shifting. “You have to get professional help” he nods. Your lips part slightly, hesitantly, your heart racing again at the thought of having to think about it again in detail, but you don’t interrupt. “I can hook you up with a therapist specialized in cases of PTSD” Poe reaches for your hand and squeezes it, grounding you again. “Support groups are great too. You’ll be able to talk with people who experienced the same thing”

Your mouth closes in a tight line before you offer him a tired smile and a nod. He raises his eyebrows in silent questioning, a request of approval, like he’s asking you to promise you’re going to go through with this.

You offer him a second, firmer nod before he blinks proudly and takes your face into his hands, leaving a kiss at the top of your head. 

“Hey, you could sleep here for the rest of the night if you feel better having someone around” he offers. “You know I have my own office so my bed is excluded from the dorm area. I could stay there with you. I have a ton of paperwork to go through” 

You accept it easily. “Okay” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” you nod. He smiles, and rests a hand at the small of your back to lead you out of the room.

“Oh yeah, just one thing” he adds as he opens the door, “You could get woken up by an alarm” he grins. 

You chuckle. “Noted.”

You quickly get there after crossing the dorm area; it makes you realize that being a lieutenant certainly has its advantages, for the perk of having that small office alone. It’s just a single bed and a desk facing the wall, but even if you’ve seen it before, it somehow feels safer and more familiar now.

“Get comfortable” Poe says as he shuts the glass door behind him before turning on the warm desk lamp that casts a soft glow in the room. You sit on the bed and watch as he closes the blinds to the half glass walls, except the one for the door that is visibly broken.

“Hey, Poe” you call softly, putting your shoes aside after taking them off. He turns to you, walking over to sit down beside you on the bed. “I didn’t get to apologize properly. I’m sorry. I mean it.” you nod. You reach for his hand, and he gives it to you with no hesitation, threading your fingers together. “I should have never shut you out. You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met”

A broad, bright smile grows onto his face, one that you can’t help but replicate from how infectious it is. The back of your fingers brush along his face, and you let your own face get so close that it only becomes natural for your lips to press against his. 

The kiss is soft though desperate, your hand shifting to bury into his curls. “It gotta be unprofessional,” you jokingly whisper once you break the kiss, still remaining close, earning a warm laugh from him.

“If no one’s here to see it, nah” he teases, cupping the back of your head to kiss you back. 

You both pull away when the alarm suddenly goes off and announces the call, making you listen attentively. “It’s for the ambo. Just Rose and Rey” Poe declares. “See? You jinxed it” he grins.

You grin, interrupted by a yawn so intense that it makes your eyes water. Poe notices your tiredness and watches you with a soft look in his eyes as you hum softly, leaning back on the bed and curling onto yourself.

Poe lifts a hand to gently stroke your arm. “Rest up,” he murmurs, standing and walking back towards his desk, pausing only to glance back at you once and make sure you’re really okay.

Just before he sits, you murmur sleepily, your eyes barely open, “Thank you again. For everything. Breakfast’s on me when you get off”

You barely take in his answer, already beginning to fall asleep, but whatever it is, it only makes you smile.

—

please reblog! any kind of feedback means the absolute world to me!! writing for this alternate universe makes me the happiest

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