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ivystoryweaver · 10 hours ago

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Everything is definitely coming to a head!

It's not even that they're exactly "idiots in love" at this point - they just both assume it's about to end, so no real need to blow it up.

So if I conveyed that yearning and poorly hidden feelings then I'm glad!

Summer Project

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

Issue #11: Is it Like This Every Time?

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: Summer is coming to an end but the summer project is still in full swing. Is there even a point to the rules anymore?

Content: Warnings on the fic masterlist

wc: 3k

S: 'How's my girl?'

'I'm good. How was your consult thing?'

S: 'Boring mostly. But it's a paycheck.'

'Do you like consulting stuff?'

S: 'I don't not like it. It's sort of my retired job.'

S: 'Which I now realize makes me sound even more ancient.'

'Trust me, it is working for you.'

S: 'You think so?'

'Uh, yeah, were you in that shower?'

S: 'It's all I can fucking think about honestly.'

'Really?'

S: 'Yeah. That's why the consult was boring. Thinking about last night. And this morning.'

'Me too.'

S: 'I wish you could have stayed with me again tonight in the hotel.'

'Me too but it's probably better that I came home.'

S: 'Why, did something happen?'

'No, I actually think I'm a little bit sore.'

S: 'Shit. I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?'

'No, but I'm new to this. And it was kind of intense this morning. Good though. Really good, like changed my outlook on life good.'

S: 'Say more'

'Shut up'

S: 'I will definitely shut up. You keep on talking about how good our morning shower was. I'm listening'

'I think I was loud enough this morning.'

S: 'I won't forget those sounds anytime soon.'

'I should probably be embarrassed.'

S: 'Are you?'

'No'

S: 'Good. Can I ask you a question?'

'Always'

S: 'Did I get a good grade on your Summer Project?'

'A++++++'

S: 'Nice. Is the project over?'

You wondered if he was going to ask you this exact question, or if it would be you asking him. A feeling of relief washed over you at how he threw it out there so casually.

'Let’s just say I’m a willing student if there is more to learn.'

S: 'How can you be the student if I'm the one getting graded? And yes, there is more to learn.'

'I'm definitely the student here. I know nothing.'

S: 'Does that make me your professor?'

'Yes, sir, teach me.'

Your phone screen lit up as he called in.

"You cannot say shit like that while I'm out of town."

"Why?" You innocently questioned.

"Because I have to focus on work and not on you calling me sir."

"Santiago, you have a professor fantasy?" You teased.

"Well I do now. But you saying 'yes sir' gives me inappropriate superior officer thoughts."

"Why inappropriate? We're two consenting adults."

"Yeah, but if I was your superior officer, it would definitely be inappropriate."

"Maybe I should call you by your rank the next time we're together," you continued.

"Only if you want me to lose control of myself."

Which begged the question: had Santiago even come close to losing control yet? Would you be able to handle it if he did?

"Hey Ducky," Will said, plopping down on the couch beside you. "Have fun last night?"

You almost choked on your iced tea.

"I did," you managed, setting your drink aside to avoid a mishap.

"I think it's good that you're still close with your school friends," he told you with a fond smile, assuming you were with them last night. "It's like Diego, Frankie...Pope. You know?"

"Mm-hmm."

Yeah it was like that. You were with a lifelong friend last night. Just not the girls. What would Will think of you if he knew you were with his best friend?

What would he think of Santi?

"Hey, thanks for planning the camping trip. It was fun," he said sweetly, propping his feet up on the coffee table and crossing his ankles.

"Hopefully I did my sisterly duty," you joked.

"Shit. Feeling smothered again?" Will rested his head on the back of the couch and stared up the ceiling. "We just can't help it, can we?"

"No, it's not too bad," you replied. "I've missed you guys."

His head lolled over so he could look at you. "Dad made me promise, you know? To take care of you. I know you don't need me to."

"Dad said that?" You breathed, your eyes misting over.

"Yeah. Benny was there when he said it."

"Not Jace?"

Will swallowed hard, averting his eyes. "Uh, no. Just us. Benny and me. Well…Pope too. And we tried. I know we were hard on you in high school. I feel like we sort of ran you off for college, you know?"

"You didn't," you insisted, nudging his arm. "I always wanted to go away for college. You and Benny went on your adventures. And Frankie, Diego, and Santi. I was ready for my own."

"Proud of you, kiddo," Will told you with a satisfied smile. "Dad would be too. And mom."

You sighed wistfully. "Sometimes it's hard for me to remember her - how she really was. Do you think I'm anything like her?"

"Hm," Will folded his arms over his chest, "Well, you're like both of them. Mom was always kind. She never yelled. Never. Like you."

"I miss them," you quietly admitted. "Sometimes I feel like, when I'm away at school, I miss them a little bit less."

"I get that," he agreed. "I really do. We all need a little time away sometimes. But we can always come home to each other."

The next several encounters with Santiago were conducted in secret. Well, even more secret than before Jace semi-busted you. Sometimes it was just as hard not to touch Santi or gaze at him as it was to hide the fact that you were doing exactly that any stolen moment you could manage.

So, stolen glances across the back yard lingered in between secret kisses. He fingered you in the laundry room and the two of you sneaked away for a quickie in his old beat up Bronco near the end of one of Benny's fights.

Santi kept asking you to come over to his house but you felt hesitant, like it would somehow give everything away. Although you had the right to your privacy, and your personal and sexual life was absolutely no one's business, you were growing weary of lying about your whereabouts. It was exhausting. Honestly, you would truly consider coming clean but it was all about to be over.

Summer was coming to an end, so this wouldn't last much longer. You would move away again and Santi would move on with his life. It hurt you to think about it, but what could you do? It wasn't like this thing between you could go anywhere. This was Santiago. He was practically family. Only you didn't feel about Santi the way you felt about the rest of the guys close to your brothers.

You knew by now that he held at least a piece of your heart. Perhaps he had since Christmas, and maybe he would for a long time. But he was way older than you -there was no way the two of you wanted the same things. You felt stupid for even letting your mind wander. It could never work. Besides that, you weren't even sure what you wanted to work.

The only thing you knew for sure was that you wanted to be with him any chance you could get, and he was all you could think about. Which pretty much meant your rules didn't mean shit anymore.

At the moment, he was downstairs playing video games with Benny and Will. You had no idea where Jace was, but he was, mercifully, not home.

You were lying on your bed, overthinking in between bouts of listlessly packing for grad school. You thought about going to see your friends, or something that would get you out of the house. You were honestly starting to get on your own nerves a little bit.

A quiet knock on the door interrupted your overthink. You were shocked to find it was Santi.

"What are you doing up here?" You whispered, quickly ushering him inside as your heart rate tripled and your skin heated up.

"I know, I know, rule number one, but I just wanted to see you. Thirty seconds, I swear." Locking the door behind him, he reached for your hips to pull you close. "A hug at least?"

"Hi," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I was just thinking about you."

"Yeah, I kept dying on every level down there. I can barely concentrate," he admitted, rubbing his nose against your cheek.

"Good thing Jace isn't home. But you should go - mmph."

Unable to wait a second longer to taste you, his lips found yours, hungry and demanding. Slipping your fingers into his hair, you tugged him closer, desperate for a deeper taste. Squeezing your hips, he kissed you breathless, the two of you pulling away instantly at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

You shared a breathless laugh, shushing one another as you melted into his arms.

"Come over tomorrow," he breathed on your ear. "I miss you."

"Can't," you whispered, laying your head on his shoulder sweetly. "I really do have plans with Fi and Anna. Plus Jace is off work, so he'll just ask questions."

"Okay." Easing back, he grasped your shoulders, touching his forehead to yours. "I'll see you at the fight tomorrow night then."

You finally saw Santiago alone a couple days later. Will left town for a speaking engagement, Benny was sleeping in after his latest fight and Jace had to work. So, you headed over to Santi's house for a morning date. Or sex. Not a date.

You'd seen him the previous night at Benny's fight, but everyone was there, even Fiona and Anna, and you could barely say hi to him, let alone sneak away for a kiss or a private conversation.

So to feel his arms around you and his lips on yours was a welcome relief.

You forgot to care that he cooked for you. The door opened and closed and you were all over each other, but there was no up-against-the-door passion, or fooling around on the sofa. Santi took your hand and led you directly to his bedroom. Even though he lived alone, he shut the door behind him.

Never letting go of your hand, he sat down on the edge of the bed, peering up at you, heavy breaths passing his parted, plush, wet lips. Dark eyelashes kissed his tanned cheeks as he blinked up at you expectantly. He tugged on your hand, guiding you to straddle his lap. Your thighs spread across him, your skin heating as his arms slipped around you.

"Ready to learn something new?" He hoarsely whispered, the corner of his mouth curling as he ran his hands down the curve of your back to squeeze your ass.

"Yes sir," you managed to tease, rolling your hips against him temptingly, locking your arms behind his neck to keep you from falling over, heart beating so hard in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

"Be careful, calling me that," he murmured against your lips, feeling you up as he tugged your t-shirt over your head. His mouth crashed into yours, tasting you hungrily as you urgently pulled at one another's clothes without stopping.

"Santi, wait. Wait," you panted as the two of you tumbled down on the bed, naked.

"You okay?" He asked you sincerely, brushing his fingers along your cheek.

"Yeah, I want you to show me something," you told him softly, reaching between your bodies to stroke his hard length.

He groaned, shifting into your grip. "What, baby?"

"Show me how to make you feel good," you whispered, easing down his body. You stroked him a few more times before running your tongue all over his leaking tip. You swallowed the salty taste, humming in curious satisfaction.

"...fuck," he hissed, hips bucking toward you hungrily. Your tongue was the sweetest, softest thing he ever felt. "Baby, you...you don't - "

"Don't tell me I don't have to," you mumbled, licking all the way up the length of him, intrigued and seriously turned on by the feeling of a cock in your mouth. You licked at his tip a few more times before opening your mouth wide and sinking down on him.

Santi let out a string of curses at the way you eagerly sucked a little too hard, teeth scraping him, drool leaking out of the corner of your mouth. He felt you gag, your throat strangling his tip. You were definitely new to this, but something about the way you went for it, so innocently curious and willing to please, nearly wrecked him.

The warm velvet of your mouth felt so fucking good, he had to almost chew a hole in his lip and dig his heels into the mattress to get you to stop. "Take it easy, honey."

"S-sorry," you stammered, skin hot, mouth messy and wet. "Did it hurt?"

He smiled at you gently, gripping your jaw and guiding you back to his cock. "Open up for me."

You blinked up at him, obediently showing him your tongue, shivering with anticipation as he placed his dick in your mouth, using his thumbs to maneuver your lips how he wanted them. "Like this, baby. Make your mouth a wet hole for me to fuck."

A whimpering moan vibrated from your hot cavern to his cock as he pushed inside you, stroking your cheek. "Good girl, relax for me. Open up wide. Tap my leg if you need to stop."

His orders had your body trembling and created a waterfall between your legs. You tried to shove your thighs together to ease the ache and create a little friction. The motion caused you to bob up and down, pulling filthy curses from Santi's mouth.

He gripped your face, hands cradling your jaw. "You never done this, baby? Can't believe I'm the first one to fuck this pretty mouth."

And he was fucking you now, hands holding you in place, hips steadily rocking, delicious sounds rumbling in his chest. His entire length couldn't fit inside your mouth, and even what he was giving you made you gag all over him.

What he wouldn't give to mindlessly thrust into your mouth until he came down your throat. The thought came unbidden to his mind that you would probably let him do it too.

He gripped your jaw to control the pace and depth, indulging in several more steady, delicious thrusts until he could feel the coil of pleasure tightening in his stomach.

"Okay, okay, stop for a second," he groaned, pushing your chin to get you to release him.

You gazed up at him, heavy breaths passing your wet, abused lips, wondering if you did something wrong.

"I'm gonna come if you keep going," he breathed out, grasping your arms to pull you half on top of him. Now, face to face, he could feel the heat from your cheeks and taste the mess he made of your mouth as he kissed you hungrily.

"You don't want to? Come?" You asked him meekly, melting into his embrace as he rubbed his nose along your cheek.

"You know I do." He eased back and stared into your eyes. Reaching down, he pushed your thighs apart before taking hold of his length and guiding his tip between your folds. "Wanna come with you."

Before he could ask or say anything else, you eagerly nodded, pressing your mouth to his and shifting your hips so that you could sink down on him, joining your bodies. You maneuvered your body upright, pressing your palms flat against his chest, working yourself over his cock and starting to ride him slowly.

He growled at the way you took him inside you suddenly, your body writhing deliciously, tits bouncing as you rolled your hips in time with his hungry thrusts. "I'll never stop thinking about you like this," he gasped, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he helped you drag yourself back and forth. "You look so good, fucking me like this."

Your head flew back, cunt clenching at the way he talked to you. It made you so wild for him when he did that. He wasn't afraid to say anything, didn't shy away from seeing you as something sexual to have, to crave, to use, even - not a small thing to protect. But still, you felt so safe with him. And so full of him.

He felt you pulsing around his length, knowing you loved when he talked dirty to you. You'd been treasured and loved your whole life. He had been there all along to see it. The feeling of giving you something different - of taking this piece of you for himself - something no one else ever had - was indescribable.

His thumb found your swollen bundle of nerves and you shrieked as he found a pulsing rhythm. Your rocking motion turned into bouncing as he worked you steadily closer to the edge, calling you his dirty girl, telling you how good you looked fucking yourself on his cock, coaxing you to come so he could feel your sweet cunt squeeze him while he came.

That's all it took for your body to seize in pleasure, strangled, sweet cries filling his ears as you clenched around him, your pace faltering. He was already so close just from a few minutes in your mouth, but the feel of you like this - the sight of you naked, writhing, wanting him, coming for him - his sweet, dirty secret - despite his years of experience, he lost himself easily, filling you so full he made a mess of you both.

He held you against him, sweating, panting, bodies joined, tangled and drenched. Foreheads touching, you shared one another's breath, drowning in your shared pleasure.

"How's my girl?" He finally whispered, fingers tracing along the curve of your bare back.

"Mmm," you murmured, burying your face in his neck.

"What is it?"

You shivered as his fingernails traced patterns on your skin. "It's different than I thought."

"What's different?"

You sighed, clinging to him. "This. Everything. Is it always this good?" Your lips brushed his ear. "Is it like this every time?"

Well, that was a loaded question. How could he tell you? That sex could be good with anyone, with the right attraction, the right effort.

But this? He folded you closer, working out how to answer you without fucking everything up.

"It'll always be this good with you," he finally admitted.

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

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ivystoryweaver · 11 hours ago

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Your brain is resting. You pour yourself out to us all the time. Resting and thinking and sleeping and reading and chilling are part of writing.

I have fucking forgotten how to write.

#you're a writer #writing is a whole body activity #we love you fen

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ivystoryweaver · 11 hours ago

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I love summer project Santi but ngl I’d pay to see him get roughed up a bit by the Miller brothers when they inevitably find out what he’s been up to. A bit of a punch up if you will

stay tuned 🤭 🫣

Questions for ourselves: do they have any right to?

WHO would be the most pissed? Benny, Will or Jace?

Summer Project

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ivystoryweaver · 13 hours ago

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Me seeing the costume and googling veggie tales tomato

#in the hand of dante #a very serious film #total respect to the costume dept btw #oscar isaac

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ivystoryweaver · 15 hours ago

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The Only One

Episode 9

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Summary: The Resistance relocates to a new base and you mightily struggle with whether to stay or flee. Poe is as wonderful as always and Leia weighs in. Things take a turn

Word Count: 2.5k

Content: self-worth probs, crying, hurt/comfort

PREVIOUSLY on "The Only One"...

Poe surged forward, sliding his fingers through yours - twisting his fingers around yours - the motion he'd memorized as you fiddled with your straps a thousand times before.

"I've got you." His breath brushed your forehead as he drew your intertwined fingers, pulling you as close as he'd ever dared.

And for the first time, wings and all, you laid your head on his shoulder and pressed your body against his.

Setup and survival kept everyone busy and attention off you...for now.

As always, the Resistance hid out in an old rebel base, so the first priority was triage of the wounded, evaluation of supplies and getting everyone a place to rest, after getting them fed.

Everyone was too busy, at first, to worry about your wings or even your Force-wielding abilities.

Poe found you in a corner, as far away from curious eyes as you could manage with your newfound wings, hovered over a holopad, working your magic as best you could with outdated Rebel equipment.

"Hey there," he greeted, kneeling down beside you.

"Commander," you neutrally returned, keeping your eyes fixed on the task at hand.

"I think it's Captain, actually," he sheepishly replied, scrubbing his hand over the stubble on his chin. "The general demoted me right before..." Clearing his throat with a slight sense of embarrassment, he reached for your hand.

You stopped working, eyes cutting over to him. "I'm not calling you Captain. It's ridiculous."

A tired chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Yeah, maybe. You ready to get some rest?"

"No, I have work to do."

He regarded you for a moment, heart burning for you, with everything you'd been through. "All right, Ells. You stay here if you want. But I've gotta sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open."

He stood, watching as you stopped working, body tensing as your eyes darted around you warily. "W-where will you go?"

"Just to sleep. That's it. I won't be far," he reassured you gently, his eyes warm and sympathetic. "Unless...you can come with me."

You were up on your feet and following him in one second flat.

There wasn't much in the way of privacy at this base - not yet, anyway, but Poe had found a closed door to rest behind, grateful that you reached for his hand, linking your fingers through his. He was so worried about you and so very exhausted.

He stumbled into the tiny room, released your hand, sank down in the corner, back pressed against the wall. "You can take the bed."

You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment that you would take Poe's bed. "No...I have work to do. Please, just go to sleep. I'm okay."

He shook his head, but you insisted. "I'm not sleepy yet. I have some reprogramming to do. Come on."

In a relatively short amount of time, Poe had been captured, tortured by Kylo Ren, he blew up Starkiller Base, lost dozens of friends on the bombing squad, got demoted, saw Leia get severely wounded, got repeatedly dressed down by Holdo, watched half the Resistance get blown out of the sky, and then Holdo herself...and now you.

You not only had wings but you appeared to be a powerful Force user. It was all catching up to him, and he fell asleep as soon as he laid his head down.

Once you were able to watch him, unguarded, you set down your holopad and let out a long sigh. "Oh, Poe...you're the last one who should have been demoted. Without you, so much of this would fall apart. I would...fall apart." Your lip trembled as your eyes flooded with tears.

Tentatively reaching out, you brushed a stray curl away from his eye. How could someone so wonderful, so good, have been treated so horribly? As soon as the thought skittered across your mind, however, you withdrew your touch, backing away from him. Your eyes flickered all over his handsome face and you winced, noticing the little nicks and cuts you inflicted upon him, when you flung rocks outward with the Force. His hands and arms bore the same scrapes.

You were like them now. Like the evil people who tortured Poe. You belonged to the darkness, you were certain of it. You were born wrong, possibly the last of your species. And the last person you knew who could tell you anything about your past, died warning you of your dark connection.

You had to leave, because you would only hurt the Resistance if you stayed. You would hurt Poe.

It would probably be best to sneak away while he was asleep. Pushing up onto your feet, you winced as your wing knocked against the wall. Hot tears pricked your eyes as shamed filled your chest, squeezing like a vice. You were a freak. An evil, dangerous demon.

But you would do one thing for Poe before you left. Quietly sneaking out of the door, you located the makeshift med bay and braved the stares and inquiries to try to find some bacta ointment or patches for Poe's wounds.

Unfortunately for you, Leia was there and she spotted you right away, summoning you to her bedside where she was getting checked over.

"General Organa," you gasped, face flaming hot with humiliation over your Force tantrum back on Crait. "I...I didn't mean to bother you, I'll go."

"No, stay," she gently instructed with a gentle smile, dark eyes warm and calming. "I've been worried about you."

Your eyes went wide. "About me?" Your lip trembled as you realized she must be ready to call you out on your dark and dangerous abilities. "I'm sorry, I just came to get some bacta for Poe. He's hurt."

"Poe is hurt?" She asked, sitting up in her bed, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

"Just some scrapes... I-I didn't mean to. It was an accident." Your breath grew shallow as you felt familiar panic rising in your chest.

"Elia, I want you to breathe," Leia instructed, reaching for your arm with the softest touch. "Just...breathe."

Whatever she was doing worked as the tightness in your chest released.

"You've had quite a day," she sympathetically smiled.

"Me?" You gasped, shaking your head. "General Organa, I'm so sorry...about Master Luke."

She nodded knowingly. "You felt that, didn't you?"

Noticing the instant your panic returned she shook her head once. "Breathe, Elia."

Your eyes drifted closed as you felt an sense of calm and safety wash over you.

"I'll see that you get the bacta you need, but I want you to come and see me tomorrow. Okay?"

You agreed, if only to quickly get back to Poe and figure out a plan for your escape.

Thankfully, Poe was still sound asleep when you returned - tousled curls splayed carelessly yet somehow beautifully as heavy breaths escaped his parted lips. If only you didn't have to be this creature. If only you could really love him.

As gingerly as you could manage, you opened the vial of bacta and, with a featherlight touch, applied it to the cuts you could see, doing everything in your power to not wake him.

Once you finished, you picked up your holopad and tried to plot an escape route. You had to think of how to get away without drawing unwanted attention to the Resistance. If you were caught by the First Order...

You shuddered to think of what they would do to you to get information. But if you stayed here, the darkness in you would surely corrupt everything around you. Easing down onto the floor, you felt your eyes grow heavy.

Hours later, Poe found you there, asleep, your dark wing covering you like a blanket. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes. he stared at you for an indulgent moment, wondering if he'd ever met anyone as unique as you. He wondered if you'd ever let him in, let him close.

Clearly you had been hiding your wings for a long time, maybe your whole life. No wonder you never took your backpack off. He winced at the thought that it must have physically hurt you to hide them. And the fact that you were a Force user. What else were you hiding?

It took everything in him to refrain from stretching out his fingers to trace the slick texture of your wing.

Soon enough, you shifted and stirred, waking up and struggling to find your way out from under your wing. Your hair still hung loosely around your shoulders. You flinched when you saw Poe staring at you.

"Hey," he breathed, reaching for your arm. "I just woke up. Did you sleep down there all night?"

Straightening up a little, you winced in pain, realizing you must have slept crooked. Your wings seemed to feel awkward and at least a little painful all the time.

"Come up here," Poe coaxed, gently grasping your elbows to pull you onto the bed with him. You eased down beside him, heart thundering inside you as your wing settled over both your shoulder and his.

"I-I'm sorry, I..." You pulled away, not wanting to upset him with this terrifying, demonic part of your body.

"Don't be sorry," he whispered against your cheek.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't...my wings, I - "

"It's okay," he soothed, smiling tenderly as you pushed your fingers through his in the typical, repetitive motion you always did with your backpack straps.

"Your wings don't hurt me, sweetheart," he went on. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

"I'm not," you whimpered, tears spilling over your lashes. "I'm...wrong. The darkness - it's in me. It's part of me."

He nodded, touching his forehead to yours. "Everyone has darkness in them somewhere. And light too. It's balance."

Your eyes drifted closed you finally felt sleepiness dragging you under. Somehow, Poe's presence soothed you, despite the notion that you should try to depart tonight.

Safe in his arms, you slept and slept, more soundly than you could remember. It would be one last memory to take with you as you left the Resistance for good.

You slept so long and so hard that Poe eventually climbed out of bed and got busy helping the Resistance get settled at the new base. Leia met with him, promoted him and put him to work. Poe was all too eager to oblige.

You awoke, sore and confused, but after some breakfast and a quick rinse in the fresher, you felt marginally better. And ready to make a plan for how to get out of here.

As you scurried toward the hangar in search of a ship, you realized how stupid your idea was. You couldn't fly anything, and what Resistance pilot would defect to fly you anywhere? Not only that, but how would you escape Poe's watchful eye?

But it's all you knew to do. You ran when things got too hard. You knew nothing else. With all your heart, however, you wished you weren't made wrong because you wanted to stay. Maybe you should stay and ask for help. General Organa seemed to be understanding with you last night. Perhaps she could help you control your power. Or perhaps she would see you for what you truly were.

"I thought I might find you here."

General Organa's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"General. Good morning," you attempted, your hands fidgeting as you averted your eyes.

"Good afternoon," she pointedly returned, but smiled warmly.

"I-it's good to see you out of the med bay. Are you feeling better?" You politely questioned, unknowingly inching away from her.

Leia reached for your hand in a motion so soothing, you didn't even think to flinch. "I am. Thank you. And what about you, Elia? How are you feeling?"

Unsure of how to answer such a layered question, your head dropped, if only to avoid eye contact.

"Could I ask you a question?" She finally asked, breaking the long moments of silence.

You nodded, so she went on. "Could I ask where you were planning to go?"

Your eyes popped open. She knew? After a few moments, you felt a tears slip down your cheeks. "I don't want to put the Resistance in danger."

Nodding understandingly, she motioned for you to sit down on a crate. You complied and she joined you.

"The way I understand it is - you saved a lot of lives on Crait. A whole transport's worth. Maybe more." She looked at you pointedly. "Isn't that right?"

Fidgeting under her scrutiny, you shrugged. "I don't really understand how it happened. I just didn't want anyone to die."

"Tell me what you did. Or said," she gently coaxed. "It's all right."

"Um, the transport caught fire and...I felt the heat. Then I...I told the fire no. I thought of all the danger and I just said no. I felt it and I concentrated. And I could feel the ship touching down on the planet's surface." You sighed wearily. "Couldn't stop the fire, though, or the explosion."

"And how did you feel?"

"Calm," you answered without really thinking.

"The Force is strong with you. I've told you that before."

"The Force," you slowly repeated. "You mean, the energy flow that you have. And Master Luke. And Rey. The girl who moved the stones. Is she a Jedi? Are you a Jedi? You're not saying I could be a Jedi, are you, because I can't do that - not with my wings, because they hurt me sometimes and because of what I am. So that's not what you mean, is it - "

"Elia," she interrupted your rambling. "If you stay, I'll teach you about the Force. I'll show you how to understand your connection to it."

The ache in your wings and your back matched the ache in your soul. You wanted to be a part of the light more than anything. You wanted to be good like Poe and in control, like Leia.

With nothing left to lose, you decided to try to explain to the general about your past. About how you were the last of your kind, as far as you knew. And how someone ominous explained your species' connection to darkness.

She listened intently, without making you feel uncomfortable. In fact, she had a unique talent for it. You'd never felt more centered around anyone. Poe was like that too, but in a completely different way.

"Do you remember when you were on that mission with Poe, to that swampy planet, and you saved his life?"

Instead of denying it, or rambling or fussing, you slowly nodded.

She smiled softly. "Those are not the actions of someone destructive. You've used what little you understand about the Force to save lives. To heal. You didn't give in to fear, to anger. You're strong."

Shaking your head, you squeezed your eyes closed. "Then why was I born like this? Why did I have to be a demon?"

Leia rose, pacing around behind you to inspect your wings. Your head bowed in shame as you endured one of the moments you had dreaded since you arrived and joined the resistance: the rejection of General Organa.

"How certain are you of your species?" She questioned, moving back around to face you.

No one had ever asked you that, because you had been pretending to be a human your whole life. "I only know what I was told. I don't think there are anymore demons."

"And that's why you hid your wings?" She asked a rhetorical question and then continued. "That's why they hurt you. They didn't grow correctly."

"Please..." you backed away, wishing so badly you could flee and hide, feeling as if you couldn't take any more scrutiny or stares.

"It's all right," she repeated. "Will you meet me here tomorrow? I think I can help you."

"With the Force, you mean?"

"Yes. And I think we can do something about your pain," she added. "I may also have an idea about where you're from."

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ivystoryweaver · 16 hours ago

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I certainly would be if Santiago paid any attention to me

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

Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list• fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

Summary: Santiago Garcia is lifelong friends with your three very protective brothers, who happen to be the Millers: Will, Ben and (new character) Jace. You’re home for the summer after your college graduation and you have a little project in mind for you and Santi.

Overall Story Content: legal age gap - reader just graduated college and is about to start grad school, much younger sister of Ben and Will Miller, so Santiago (in this story) is about 15 years older than her. Brothers (particularly Ben) call(s) reader Ducky. Family angst and drama, romance, fluff, idiots in love, lifelong family friends to lovers, drinking, mentions of food, discussions of sexuality, loss of virginity, kissing, grinding, dry humping, p in v, fingering, spitting, hand job, nipple play, praise kink, dirty talk, creampie, oral-m and f rec., sex toys, semi-public sex, lingerie, aftercare, language, not beta'd

Issue #1: Three Rules...or Four?

Issue #2: First Base...or Second?

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

Issue #4: Too Much...or too Little?

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

Issue #6: Keep the Rules...or Break Them?

Issue #7: Brothers...or Bosses?

Issue #8: Should I Stay…or Should I Go?

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

Issue #10: Rare

Cast of characters:

Triple Frontier Boys:

Santiago "Pope" Garcia

Francisco (Frankie) "Catfish" Morales

William (Will) "Ironhead" Miller

Benjamin (Benny) Miller.

Tom is mentioned once in the first chapter but is not a part of this story.

The main reader character is Will and Ben Miller's younger sister. I am planning to re-write this entire story, turning the reader character into a fully fleshed out OC, so readers can enjoy either version.

Original characters:

Jace Miller - the other Miller brother. Birth order is: Will, Jace, Benny, sister Frankie and Santiago are older than all the Millers. Diego is the same age as Will

Angelica Morales, Frankie's wife

Vicente (Vinnie) Morales, Frankie's baby boy

Diego - next door neighbor and lifelong friend of the Millers. He also served in the military with the TF boys

Elena - Diego's fiancée, then wife

Mateo - Diego's younger brother

Anna and Fiona - sisters and main character's high school besties, close to her age. All thee girls are home from college for the summer

*Special thanks to @cosmickid-inmotion who listened to me hammer out some world building issues and help named Frankie's baby!

If you like this story, you will love his Leather and Lace universe - a huge inspiration for this story!

Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list• fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

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ivystoryweaver · 18 hours ago

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The Only One

Episode 8

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Summary: Your deepest, darkest secret is out. How will you handle this new attention? Who can get through to you? (I bet you can guess)

Word Count: 2.1k

Content: nothing too intense - self-doubt, mild angst, slight injuries

PREVIOUSLY on "The Only One"...

Poe backed away, stunned, brushing bits of gravel from his face and hair. He thought to approach you, but stopped short at a miraculous sight.

Your hair had tumbled down, beautiful and wild, your eyes closed in concentration. Hands clenched by your sides, you held yourself still as bits of rock and earth circled you slowly.

And behind you, dark, slick wings unfurled.

As the Millennium Falcon raced to its safe destination, Poe gripped your hand tightly, through the slightest opening in the storage bay where you had hid yourself.

His thumb gently stroked yours, back and forth, steadily, reminding you to breathe in time with his ministrations.

In...out...in...and out.

"That's my girl," he would encouragingly whisper at various intervals, calmly caressing and encouraging you to breathe through each hiccup and gasp.

It was a miracle he'd got you this far. He thought he'd never get you onto this ship and off that forsaken salty rock called Crait.

Previously...

The ragtag remnant of the Resistance momentarily stopped, stunned by the vision of your dark wingspan and bits of rock circling your body.

Poe winced at the tiny scrapes littering his arms, where you had inadvertently flung gravel outward using the Force - his bare forearms the only shield for his face.

Everything that could be going wrong for a person like you was now careening off a cliff into utter disaster.

Your secret made itself known to everyone. Both secrets: the fact that you could wield the Force and the fact that you possessed demon wings.

Worse, everyone was staring at you, disbelievingly.

Worse still, there was no time for this. Kylo Ren and the First Order were surely mere minutes behind you all, following you through the hidden Rebel base in the mine.

Poe could hardly think of which fire to put out first, but he had to do something, before you panicked. You could not afford to have a panic attack right now - not with uncontrolled power such as yours. It would surely draw the wrong kind of attention - acting as a beacon for the First Order, impeding escape.

The Resistance would be finished once and for all, if you were found.

He started with your name, softly.

Your lip trembled at the sound of his voice.

Since the moment you sent rocks flying outward, you had yet to open your eyes.

"Ells," he repeated, with more urgency. "It's me. Can-can I touch your hand? Is that okay?"

Your chest heaved as reality began to take hold.

Poe ordered everyone onto the ship, hoping to disperse the crowd. Finn took notice and repeated Poe's command - the two of them realizing that Rey and Leia were sharing some sort of moment.

Something was wrong. Something greater than your display of power. You felt it too because your eyes snapped open.

"Oh no," you whispered, unable to understand that it was Master Skywalker's death rippling through the Force.

Thankfully, most everyone had boarded the Millennium Falcon by now, leaving Poe to reason with you. He nodded for Finn to join his comrades, and after concerned glances toward both you and Rey, he complied.

"Ells?" Poe repeated, reaching out for your hand. "It's just me. You okay? We have to get out of here. We have to board the ship."

Your eyes searched for Leia's. She met your gaze over Rey's shoulder during their embrace. You felt something in the Force - something painful, but you weren't strong enough to discern anything further - oblivious to the fact that Leia had just lost her twin brother.

It was then that you realized that Leia and Poe could now both see you for the demon you truly were, which made you automatically withdraw from Poe's reach.

"Come on, sweetheart," Poe coaxed, his dark eyebrows arched pleadingly. "Let's get you out of here - somewhere safe. Come on, I've got you. Just take my hand."

"No," you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. The metaphorical weight of hiding your true self combined with the literal weight of your newly unfurled wings felt like a millstone pulling you to the bottom of the deepest ocean.

Poe lowered his hand. "Come on, Ells. I won't touch you. I won't let anyone bother you. Let's go - we have to go."

You backed away, shaking your head vehemently. "No. Leave me. I'm...like them. I'm...wrong."

Poe did grip your hand then, commandingly, taking a gamble that you wouldn't freak out. That the foundation you'd built together as friends - as...hopefully more, would anchor you here - just long enough to get you on the ship.

"There's nothing wrong with you. And I'm not leaving you here," he fiercely proclaimed, trapping your hand in both of his and pulling it to his chest, urging you forward a stumbling step or two.

"No, Poe, I-I'll hurt you," you protested, breathlessly, although your body complied. "I did hurt you, like they did - like they tortured you - "

Poe squeezed your hand, touching his forehead to yours. "You're going to have to tear my arm off to keep me here. I'm not letting go, do you understand?"

Your breath trembled as you started to cry, but Poe forged ahead, appealing to your dutiful side. You seemed to take pride in following orders, performing your duties admirably. You weren't one for public accolades but a little one on one encouragement typically caused you to beam with pride.

"Get on the ship with me," he softly commanded, his breath ghosting your cheek. "That's an order."

You were nodding before you could think to protest. Something in you longed to please him - to be of use in the Resistance, even now.

Poe all but dragged you up the ramp of the Millennium Falcon - his heart shattering as you struggled to move naturally with your new wingspan - going so far as to bump one of them, causing you to hiss in pain...

...before your breath caught in your chest as you realized all over again that everyone could see the real you.

And they did stare.

"As you were," Poe ordered, waving them off. "Get to work." And he never let go of you until you were as far away from prying eyes as this crowded ship could afford.

...which is where you found yourself now, stowed in a small cargo bay with Poe's hold on your hand tender yet possessive.

His mind raced with fear -with terror, even, at how close or far behind the First Order loomed...if the remaining Resistance had even escaped unseen.

Despite many capable pilots, he yearned to be in the cockpit, in charge, or at least assisting the Jedi Rey. Which reminded him that something seemed dreadfully wrong between Rey and Leia. Poe shuddered to think of what had become of Master Skywalker.

But his duty right now was here, with you.

If he could keep you calm and breathing - if you could only make it to a safe destination - then he could help you. He could help everyone, after failing so utterly before.

But if you lashed out again, with your power - the consequences for everyone on board could be grave.

So he told you the same things over and over - to breathe, that you were safe, that everyone was safe, and the plan. Routine and reality were key for you. So he gave you everything safe and normal he could.

The Millennium Falcon touched down at a port off the beaten path, discreet, and free from First Order control. The plan was simply to refuel and gather any available supplies, including food, extra transports, fighters, ships or weapons.

Nearly every Resistance fighter dispersed as quickly and inconspicuously as possible to make this happen. Naturally, a small crew remained with the Falcon, making necessary repairs, refueling and guarding their only remaining transport.

This included the young Jedi Rey, who had grown rather attached to the ship, and, naturally, Chewbacca.

Poe found the two of you left mercifully alone for the moment. Your grip on his hand tightened to the point of pain and your eyes remained squeezed shut, as if you could keep the real world from invading your safe bubble.

"Elia...we're here. It's just you and me, okay?" Poe covered your joined hands with his free hand for good measure. "You're safe here. Say it."

Exhaling shakily, you nodded once. "I-I'm safe."

"That's right, sweetheart," he soothed, pulling your joined hands to the warmth of his chest. "We're safe, but we have to get some supplies. That's our mission. You're with me, okay? You report directly to me. Can you do that?"

"I...I can't hurt anyone," you gasped. "Need to stay right here." Fresh tears spilled out of your eyes at the pain surging through your cramped wings. You felt as safe as possible here, enclosed, with Poe to quietly reassure you, but the space was too small, in reality, for your...new body.

Poe blew out a tense breath, hoping like hell he was treating you in the way you needed - how you deserved. "I can let you stay here if you want, but first I need to know if you're hurt. I want you to tell me the truth."

You rocked back and forth a bit, trying to focus on the sound of his voice and the steady warmth of his hand - your touchstone.

Shit...Poe felt like he was losing you. Okay, new approach.

"Elia, tell me the supply list. We need to get it, but...I want make sure I don't forget anything. Tell me what's on the list," he gently directed, knowing you had that thing memorized top-to-bottom, inside-out. You could recite a great many lists and procedures verbatim, much to the slight annoyance of some of your colleagues.

But it was damn handy in a situation like this.

You answered immediately, opening your eyes and swiping at your tears with your free hand.

"Uhh...it-it's medkit, blasters, knives, rations, nav kit, thermal blanket, hooks, glowrods, stimpills..." You rattled off survival items, as well as supplies needed to restock, refuel and get to the next safe destination. By the time you finished, Poe was smiling tenderly at you, nodding encouragingly.

And by then, you were looking at him too. But, since eye contact was nearly impossible for you, your gaze wandered down to the scrapes and cuts on his forearms - the wounds caused by you.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered disbelievingly. "I'm the last person who should hurt you, Poe. You're my best friend."

"You're mine too," he soothed, reaching to trace the shape of your jaw, guiding your obsessive stare away from his cuts and back to his face. "You're hurt too. We need each other."

Your eyes darted away from his but you didn't flinch from his touch.

"I need you out there with me, Ells. Will you help me?"

Chancing a peek at his earth colored eyes, you felt, for a moment, as if he saw you - just you. Not your wings. Not your secrets, exposed, nor the danger you posed.

"I can get the supplies," you answered simply, allowing him to help you climb out of your hiding spot. Your wings provided a bit of a struggle, but Poe caught you by both arms as you stumbled into his.

As soon as you were steady, however, he backed away. "Sorry - you okay?"

You nodded, physically deflating as his eyes raked over the expanse of your wings. "Don't look at me," you uttered, all your fears exposed - a raw nerve.

Poe lowered his gaze, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, you're just...you're beautiful."

"I'm not. I'm...not. I'm dangerous. I'm a demon. But I'm not that."

Smiling wistfully to himself, Poe remembered back to your first date. "You are to me, Ells."

He noticed how you automatically reached for your backpack straps - your soothing motion, but...your backpack was destroyed, leaving your hands empty and your lip trembling.

Poe surged forward, sliding his fingers through yours, inviting you, with a tender caress to weave your worries into his skin - to push and pull and tug until you felt grounded and safe. He showed you what to do, twisting his fingers around yours, dragging his fingertips up, and back down - the motion he'd memorized as you fiddled with your straps a thousand times before.

A thousand times he wished it was him you would touch - him you would trust and depend on.

"I've got you." His breath brushed your forehead as he drew your intertwined fingers, pulling you as close as he'd ever dared.

Your eyes drifted closed once more, but this time, in relief, instead of an attempt to anchor yourself. Pushing your fingers in and out of his strong hands, around, in the same pattern memorized by your fidgeting digits - Poe's touch familiar - his smooth skin like the frayed straps, contrasting the calloused hands of a warrior, stalwart in their support of the Resistance...and of you.

And for the first time, wings and all, you laid your head on his shoulder and pressed your body against his.

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ivystoryweaver · 19 hours ago

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It's a little surprising that the "Monday's child is fair of face" nursery rhyme never caught on as an arbitrary personality-assigner in the same way astrology did. It makes the same amount of sense.

#woe is me

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ivystoryweaver · 20 hours ago

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Summer Project Issue #11 incoming. Texting, brother moment, what is sex with Santiago like after the first (two) time(s)? Can they figure out this sneaking around thing or is it getting old? (It's getting old)

Family drama and secrets on the horizon and what about rule #3: the feelings rule

#thank u for the encouragement #summer project fic

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ivystoryweaver · 21 hours ago

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Summer Project - Original Character Edition

Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Miller Sister!Original Character

Issue #2: First Base...or Second?

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

Summary: Hazel's first...encounter/not-date with Santiago. How far will he take it? How far will she?

Content: food, alcohol, language, makeout, dry humping, fondling, some clothes removed, bit of deceit (not between main characters). You can always refer to the overall story content on the fic masterlist.

wc:

Hazel dressed in a skirt (easy access) and fitted tank, grabbing a light cardigan on her way downstairs. Florida summers were beyond humid, but depending on the building, the air conditioning could give a chill. With her cover story intact: a night out with Fiona and Anna, including a possible sleepover, she drove to Santiago's house, parking a block over, just in case.

Switching off her Jeep, she checked herself in the mirror, exhaling nervously. With a nod to herself, she started down the path of losing her virginity.

Santiago answered the door dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, granting her a charming smile.

A flutter of anticipation stirred in her belly, flaming up to heat her cheeks.

"Hey, come in." He grasped her elbows, pulling her in for a quick embrace.

Hazel hugged him, for the first time, as something different. Someone other than her brothers' little sister. He held onto her for an indulgent moment, his nose nuzzling her ear as he inhaled deeply. She melted against his chest, allowing herself to linger, pressing her body daringly against his.

"You look good," he said softly, easing back to guide her inside and shut the door.

Something delicious wafted through the air, not surprisingly, since everyone knew Santiago could cook. That's why he normally manned the grill for backyard barbecues.

"Want something to drink?"

"Yes, please," she instantly answered, remembering that while a little liquid courage was fine, she needed to keep her wits about her to not make a fool of herself.

Santi handed her a glass of wine, smiling softly as she took an indulgent sip.

"Nervous?" His eyebrows shot up.

"Shut up," she laughed, taking a bigger drink.

"Don't be," he consoled, eyes focused on hers intently. "Nothing is gonna happen here that you don't want."

Her heart stirred at his assurance. "I know that. That's why I asked you. Because...it's you."

"Yeah," he said breathlessly, licking his lips. He nodded once, trying to break the trance between them. Then he winked. "Lucky me."

Hazel softly laughed but returned to hiding behind her wine glass while Santiago put the finishing touches on dinner.

"Where do your brothers think you are?" He asked, while removing a warm loaf of bread from the oven.

Biting her lip, she shrugged one shoulder. "What makes you think I ask their permission to leave the house?"

"Uhh, maybe because I've known all of you since birth," he teased, finishing setting the food on the small, circular table in the corner of his kitchen.

Hazel had visited Santiago's house a hundred times over the years, but always with Benny and Will. Still, she definitely noticed a tablecloth and candles added to his kitchen table, which typically doubled as an indoor mailbox.

"Nice table," she joked, motioning toward it with her wine glass. "I thought it was a desk."

"I cleaned it off just to impress you," he openly admitted.

She chuckled, but instantly grew self-conscious as Santi eased in behind her to help her into her chair.

"More wine?" He asked, brown eyes twinkling down at her as she got situated.

"I better take it easy," she admitted, asking, instead, for some iced tea.

Soon enough, Santiago was seated and serving up a simple Caesar salad to start the meal.

"Benny and Will think I'm with Fi and Anna," she told him. "And you know Jace doesn't give a shit."

Santi snorted, knowing it was the truth. "Are Fiona and Anna in on this too?"

"No, not exactly. I just told them the brothers were in overprotect mode and I needed a few hours, you know - to cover for me. I didn't say more than that."

Instead of poking any further, the way she expected one of her brothers' overprotective friends to do, he changed the subject.

He asked about her. He asked about her grad school program, about moving to yet another new city. How she felt about it. Asked if she needed any help moving.

"Do you think you might come back home after grad school?" He questioned as she finished up her meal.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I loved my college town, but I loved it because it was a college town. I'm not sure yet. I guess it'll depend on where I can get a job. Although it’s probably easy to get a physical therapist job in Florida, of all places.”

“Hmm, plenty of us senior citizens,” Santi joked, winking at her. “But seriously, whatever you decide, you're gonna do great. And you always have us to come home to."

She shook her head, chuckling. "You are really good at this."

He made a face. "What? Cooking?"

"No, this. First date...stuff. Or not date, but like..."

"Talking to you like a person?" He pulled a face. "Did Marcus not talk to you?"

"Oh my god," Hazel groaned at his cheap shot about her ex-boyfriend. "I know none of you guys liked him. He was fun for a while and then...yeah."

Santi reached across the table for her hand. He paused and waited until she looked at him. "Did he hurt you?"

She swallowed but managed to hold his gaze. "No. Not in a way that would make you guys want to kick his ass. It just didn't...we didn't work." She motioned at herself with her free hand. "I mean, obviously, we didn't even sleep together, so either it wasn't working or there's something wrong with me - "

"Hazel," Santiago said her name rather seriously. "There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing." Squeezing her hand, he gently smiled, bringing her fingers to his lips to kiss them softly. "And there's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

Standing up, he reached for her opposite hand, pulling her to her feet. "That's why I wanna take this slow. In case you change your mind."

"I'm not going to change my mind," she insisted, even though her heart was beating wildly from being so close to him.

Reminiscent of what he said at the barbecue and earlier in the evening, he smirked. "Lucky me."

"Yeah, right," she tried to joke, but he leaned in close, pushing right through her defenses. He released her hands, gazing at her so intently she thought she might wilt into the hardwood floor.

"Can I kiss you?" He murmured, his lip curling as he cupped her cheek. His thumb stroked her jawline as he gazed into her eyes. "Been wanting to since Christmas."

"What?" She gasped. "You...but I was still with Marcus."

"I know," he whispered, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip, his gaze never leaving hers. "But you remember...the Christmas party, when we danced."

"Yeah," she breathlessly whispered, "I remember." She couldn't have come closer to kissing him if she tried. He was so flirty that night - definitely not a little sister dynamic. Nothing like the way Diego and her own brothers treated her.

Then again, before that night, that dance, he'd never given any inkling of a non-platonic vibe to her either. He was just her friend. Her Santi.

Seeing the realization light in her eyes, he pressed his mouth to hers, tasting her lips one at a time, taking his time before sweeping his tongue over hers. His thumbs stroked her cheeks, tenderly but insistently as he tilted his head and rolled his tongue over hers.

She moaned into his mouth, hands grasping at his shirt to somehow pull him closer. Her fingers touched his corded neck, feeling him swallow. Then she locked her wrists behind his neck and kissed him back, hard.

He gripped the nape of her neck, matching her fervor, groaning into her mouth as one arm flexed behind her back.

As he kissed her, he walked her backwards toward the living room, breaking the kiss long enough to pull her down beside him on the couch.

Hazel couldn't remember ever being kissed like this, not by Marcus, or anyone else she dated. Santi certainly had loads more experience than she did. She realized that. But this was something else. Something delicious and she wanted more, but he kept her here, making out with her for an eternity. He got her soaking wet merely by touching her face, cheeks, gripping the nape of her neck, holding her against him, in his arms.

Finally when she thought she might go insane, she felt his palm pushing up her side until his thumb brushed the side of her breast. As his tongue thrust inside her mouth, he cupped her breast, feeling her up, dragging his thumb over her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra, making her shiver.

She was losing her mind already, breaking the kiss with a low moan, arching into his touch - a feeling so tender yet possessive.

"You like that?" He smiled against her lips. She let out a little, "mmm" in return as he hauled her across his lap, pulling her by the hips, down over his lap as he gently thrust up into her.

An embarrassing whine from her made him smirk, pushing her back and dragging her forward, in time with his thrusting hips, letting her feel what was waiting for her.

She rolled her hips to meet his, the two of them finding a deliciously tantalizing rhythm as his hands started to roam the curves of her body.

"Feel good? Tell me."

"Yes," she panted, sealing her lips to his again. Their bodies rocked back and forth, tongues tangled as he slipped his fingers underneath her shirt, feeling her up indulgently.

If this felt like heaven, she might actually explode when he did anything more.

As he cupped her breasts and thrust up into her, she slid her fingers into his soft curls, tugging enough to make him growl.

“Sorry,” she breathlessly laughed.

“Mmm, don’t be,” he roughly whispered against her lips. “You feel so fucking good.” Tugging at the hem of her tank, he kissed her again, quickly. “Can I take this off?”

She nodded, arching into him as he worked the shirt over her head. Even though she'd done this stuff with other guys before, this felt different.

Her lips parted only a second before his mouth crashed back into hers, hands tracing the curves of her soft skin, exposed to his burning touch.

His palms spread over the curve of her back, pulling her closer. He felt so good up against her. She never wanted him to stop touching her, kissing her. As far as she was concerned, she was ready to sleep with him tonight.

So she reached for his shirt, bunching it up in her fists and yanking upward.

Easing back, Santi smirked as she hurriedly worked it over his head, mussing his curls in the process.

Pressing her palms against the heat of his chest, she licked her lips, eyes flickering back up to his.

“You okay?” He whispered, fingertips tracing patterns on her back.

“Mm-hmm.” She kissed him, thrilled when he didn’t slow down, kissing her back and toying with her bra strap. She purposely wore something pretty, hoping he would like what he saw.

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket, tickling her leg.

“Mmmph, sorry,” he mumbled, digging it out and checking the screen. “It’s Benny.”

“Of course it is,” she rolled her eyes, but noticed Santi reading through some missed texts. “Shit. It’s poker night. They’re asking where I am.”

“That’s tonight?” She croaked, feeling slightly thrilled that her little project might be more important that poker night, yet simultaneously offended that he didn’t cancel or plan his events better.

“Yeah, they wanted to move it to tonight. I said that I couldn’t. Guess they moved it anyway. Dammit.”

“Why did they wanna move it?”

“Benny’s fight. Just…let me answer this or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

A wave of embarrassment washed over her exposed chest and abdomen at the thought of her brother on the other end of the call.

So as Santiago greeted Benny with a, “I told you not tonight, hermano,” she silently climbed off his lap and reached for her tank top. Probably better to just let Santi go to poker night and avoid suspicion. Uncertainty bloomed in her tummy and prickled her skin.

Santi asked Benny to hold on and muted the call. “Hey, what do you think works better for rule number 1? Staying or going?”

Rule #1: her brothers could never know.

“You should probably go,” She admitted, pulling her shirt back over her head, which made Santi frown. But he stayed focused.

“I know, but I don’t want to just leave you.”

“Rule number 3,” she reminded him, shrugging, putting on a brave face for how nervous she felt inside.

“No feelings,” he repeated the rule.

"It's okay," she reassured him. "If you don't go, they'll keep asking where you are. Better this way."

Hazel decided to go ahead and hang out with Fiona and Anna. They were her alibi anyway. Santi headed over to poker night.

Mixed feelings of every sort swirled in her chest but she tried to forget them, have a drink with the girls and put Santiago out of her mind.

Then he texted her. 'I can't wait to see you again.'

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ivystoryweaver · 22 hours ago

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Thank you so much for reading so far! It has a little bit more to go.

I'm going to re-work it later, with Elia as a fully fleshed out OC, just for my own entertainment.

Poe is the most supportive! How could he not be

The Only One

Episode 10

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Summary: Everything's changing now. With your view of yourself and your past, with your wings, with Poe.

Word Count: 2.3k

PREVIOUSLY on "The Only One"...

"Will you meet me here tomorrow? I think I can help you."

"With the Force, you mean?"

"Yes. And I think we can do something about your pain," Leia added. "I may also have an idea about where you're from."

"Leia told me she found you in the hangar today," Poe commented as the two of you ate your evening meal together. "Working on a ship?"

Your face burned with shame at the thought of leaving without telling Poe, so you said nothing.

"But..." he cleared his throat, reaching for your hand. "You weren't working on a ship. Were you?" His eyes found yours, questioning and pleading - wondering if you would allow his gaze to linger.

When you averted your eyes, he knew. "You want to leave."

He withdrew his hand and the absence of it sent a hollowing emptiness echoing throughout your entire body.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled wearily. "Don't worry, Leia didn't tell me anything. She didn't betray your trust."

Although you would normally be rambling and over-explaining by now, you felt unable to say much of anything. You yearned to explain that Leia wanted to help you, and that she had changed your mind about leaving, at least for now.

"What am I supposed to do if you leave?" He rasped out, voice thickening with emotion. Pushing his tray of food aside, he propped his elbows on the table, folding his hands and letting his head fall to meet them. "I don't want to lose anyone else."

Upsetting Poe was the last thing in the galaxy you wanted. But it was too late now. He turned to you with accusing eyes.

"Are you really leaving?"

"N-no," you stuttered out, wilting under his scrutiny.

The tiniest flicker of hope ignited in his warm brown eyes. "I don't want you to," he confessed in a rush.

"I don't want to," you agreed with him. "I thought I had to."

Dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why? Did someone say something to you? Just tell me who - "

"I was afraid of hurting you. Everyone really," you gestured around you at the other Resistance members dining. "But most of all you."

"You'll hurt me if you leave." Turning to face you, he tucked one leg underneath the other, scooting closer. "Elia, tell me what you're afraid of."

"Of the dark side," you urgently uttered, moisture gathering in your eyes as you fought all your instincts telling you to look away, to run away. "Of the thing that hurt you so much, when they captured you." One tear slipped down your cheek. "Of being just like them. Like the ones who tore inside your mind and made you feel like a traitor. The ones who blew up the Hosnian system."

"Baby, you're nothing like them," Poe reassured you, with conviction. "You're everything they're not."

"How do you know that? You don't know that!" Your wings fluttered then, stretching out behind you briefly in a dramatic flare.

It took Poe's breath away, but drew some unwanted attention.

Screwing your eyes shut, you wished you could disappear, but what you didn't understand was that the stares were awe-filled. You were a force user, like the Jedi girl Rey. Like Leia. And Master Luke.

You were a symbol of hope.

Word had rapidly spread about Poe Dameron's companion, the computer technician who loved to infodump. How she wielded the Force. How she landed a fiery transport with her mind, mid-battle, saving dozens of lives.

How rocks circled her body in a powerful display as her wingspan unfurled.

This girl with messy twin buns and unlaced boots, with her trademark little backpack was a force - a creature of mystery and goodness and power. And one who had the full attention of Commander Dameron and General Organa.

That's why they stared.

Poe knew you didn't understand. Not yet. So he led you out of the cafeteria. He asked you to take a walk with him. He could see you shutting down, but he would not relent. Not this time, not after he almost lost you again.

Finally you were under the stars and able to breathe.

Poe's fingers tangled with yours as his thumb stroked steadily back and forth over your knuckles.

"I don't understand, Poe," you quietly murmured, eyes focused on the darkened waterfall cascading in the distance.

After all this time - after everything - Poe was a dear and true to you as anyone ever had been, or likely ever would be. You adored him so, but still couldn't wrap your mind around what he could ever seen in a creature like you.

"Why do you care so much?"

The question might have jarred the average listener, but Poe knew you, and he understood.

"I don't know," he confessed, hoping you would appreciate his candor. He hoped this darkened, moonlit sanctuary could soothe you enough to really talk. He had things to say.

"You made me laugh the first time we met. You tell me the truth. Most people tell me what I want to hear except under battle conditions. You're sincere."

The tension in your fingers relaxed, only a fraction.

"You're smart. You work well under pressure." He waited for your protest. Instead, he found your eyes, wide with curiosity, blinking at him so sweetly as he recounted your many weeks and months together.

"You saved my life." He gently smiled. "You've saved so many, with the Force. And too many to count on missions. You kept the First Order from enslaving and entire system."

"But...we all did that. I just work on the computers."

Stepping in front of you, he took both your hands in his. "I hate to break it to you, Ells, but you're just like everybody else most of the time. You're right, we all did that, together. But you did more. You’re more. I just want you to see yourself the way I see you."

You'd spent your whole life afraid to feel the Force. Afraid to spread your wings, literally and figuratively. Maybe now you had a chance.

"Breathe, Elia. Just...breathe," Leia soothingly instructed.

You sat amongst forest trees on the temporary Resistance base. Leia had taken time, away from the needs of the floundering Resistance, away from the young Jedi Rey, to help you.

The guilt was crushing, and, incidentally, the first thing Leia asked you about.

"Why are you less deserving of my help than anyone else?"

Your eyes snapped open. "What?"

"That's what you're feeling, isn't it? That there are people more deserving of my time?" Her dark eyebrows arched wryly as she waited for your answer.

"They are more deserving of your time. They aren't dangerous."

"Are you dangerous?" She challenged, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm aware of you healing and saving lives. Not harming people."

"But my species - "

"I think you're wrong about your species," Leia calmly informed you, "but even if you're not, you decide who you are, Elia. No one else."

That caught your attention. "Y-you don't think I'm a demon?"

Leia shook her head, granting you a sympathetic smile. "It doesn't really matter what I think. It only matters who you are inside." Noticing you twist your fingers anxiously, she went on. "But I think you might be a S'kytri from Skye, or descended from one. It would explain your dark wings. You're probably part human too, which would explain why you're not as tall as a S'kytri. They're mostly extinct anyway, thanks to the Empire."

"They do have dark wings, don't they? And...they're not demons. Right?" This could be the best news you ever heard.

"Elia," Leia called you name gently, reaching for your arm and squeezing gently. "It doesn't always matter where you came from. My birth father turned out to be the Emperor's right hand. A terrible force of evil on this galaxy. That doesn't mean I have to be that way. My brother wasn't like him."

Nodding fervently, you breathed out a sigh of relief. "So I'm not connected to the Dark Side. Just the Force. I-is that right?"

"There's always darkness, and light. Balance. We choose light again and again. That determines our path. Now, close your eyes," she directed, releasing your arm.

You complied, following her lead as she directed you to open yourself to the Force. To feel it surrounding and penetrating everything around you, and simply, you. Flowing through your body - your arms and legs and even your wings.

Without you really thinking about it, your wings unfurled behind you, stretching further than before.

Leia explained that she wanted you to meditate like this, morning, midday and night, opening yourself up to the Force, allowing it to flow through you, calming you, centering you, healing you. And she instructed you to spread your wings and strengthen them often.

"It's time to be who you really are, Elia."

As the ragged Resistance slowly began to rebuild itself and recover from the loses at Crait, you continued your training, as did the Jedi Rey.

With each day, your wings healed a little more, and stretched and strengthened. It also helped that Leia and Perrha helped you alter some clothes that would fit your new body correctly.

After that first night together in one room, Poe never bothered to find you other quarters. Each night, you two would find your way back to one another.

You would apologize for what you felt was the bulky awkwardness of your wings and Poe would offer to sleep on the floor. No matter how the night began, however, it would inevitably lead to your body curled against his, with one wing tucked behind you and the other covering both your bodies like a soft blanket.

His droid BB-8 spent about half his time with Rey, so he usually charged up in her quarters.

As you rested against Poe's chest, he gently stroked up and down your arm, listening to your soft breathing as you slept.

He was too wired to sleep tonight, due to a mission first thing in the morning. Your presence normally soothed him, but tonight he just wanted to talk to you - to look into your eyes. Maybe more. He had so much love to give you if only you could want it as much as he wanted to give it to you.

You stirred, shifting against his body as your warm breath tickled his throat. Poe groaned, attempting to keep his wits about him. Sometimes desire got the better of him, so, in an attempt to not overstep your boundaries, he decided it might be time to start prepping for his mission early.

As carefully as he could manage, he untangled your arm from around his torso and eased his way from underneath you, hoping not to wake you. He managed to climb out of bed and get dressed, but you finally stirred just before he walked out the automated door.

Murmuring his name, you pushed yourself up in bed, maneuvering your wings with slightly more ease. Where as previously, you would bump around, hurting and embarrassing yourself, now you could move them more smoothly.

"I'm taking up the whole bed again," You stated, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I couldn't sleep." He smiled at you softly. "Mission prep."

"Already? Feels like we just fell asleep."

"Hey, hey, you go back to sleep," he gently admonished, stepping in front of you to stop you from getting up.

"I was going to help you," you protested, as he took hold of your hands, pushing his fingers through yours.

"Well, I won't say no to that."

Poe left you to get changed, hoping to find some caf at this early hour, even though breakfast wouldn't be ready for a while yet.

The two of you walked hand in hand to the hangar and were delighted to find BB-8 waiting for you there.

"This little guy going with you?" You asked Poe, patting the cute droid.

"Yes he is, hey buddy!" Poe enthusiastically greeted the little guy.

After you helped Poe prep his ship and log everything, he asked to speak with you for a moment. Taking your hand, he led you to the quietest corner he could find in the hangar.

"Listen, I don't know when I'll be back," he told you, gazing into your eyes. "I haven't really been on a solo mission since the one to find the map to Luke Skywalker."

"That one didn't go very well," you bluntly stated.

"Yeah, not really," Poe agreed, pulling your hand to his chest. "I just...that one really changed some things...for me. And um," shifting from one booted foot to another, he licked his lips, "it was the first time you kissed me."

"Right," you nodded, breathlessly, "because, well...you asked if holding hands was all right, because we always hold hands, but then you said you wanted to kiss me, then you asked about a hug, but see, what happened was that I was scared to let you hug me because I had my backpack then and you would have felt my wings, like...squished in there, and I didn't know how to tell you, plus I don't always like to be touched? You know? So, I thought I couldn't hug you so instead I kissed - "

Pressing his lips to yours urgently, Poe silenced your rambling. All the sounds of the hangar faded away as he tasted your lips. Releasing your hands, he reached for your face, cradling you tenderly, breathing you in, giving you the chance to stop if you wanted to.

The heat of his breath as he whispered your name made you melt against him, arms slipping around his neck to tangle in his curls.

He kissed you hard but only for a moment, just enough to almost make your knees give out before he was backing away, steading you by your arms as his forehead touched yours.

"Sorry...sorry," he breathed, but you shook your head and pulled him by his orange flight suit right back to you, sealing your mouth to his.

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ivystoryweaver · 24 hours ago

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Thank you so much for the encouragement!

I'm not expecting readership exactly, but it will at least feel good to have done it, and will hopefully give me the guts to just go ahead with an OC next time.

Summer Project Masterlist - Original Character Edition

Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Miller Sister!Original Character

Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list • fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

Author's note: Thanks to @cosmickid-inmotion, @campingwiththecharmings and those who encouraged me to pursue my OC Hazel Miller! I don't expect many people to read this, but if you would like to be tagged, please let me know!

Summary: Hazel Miller is the much younger sister of Will and Benjamin Miller (and new character) Jace Miller. She has just graduated college and is returning home to Florida for the summer before moving to yet another new city for grad school in the fall. Summer goal? 1. Leave for grad school not still a virgin. 2. Enlist the help of her brothers' best friend Santiago Garcia.

Overall Story Content: legal age gap, her brothers (particularly Ben) call(s) her Ducky. Family angst and drama, arguing, secrets, romance, fluff, idiots in love, lifelong family friends to lovers, drinking, being intoxicated, mentions of food, self-worth probs, discussions of combat and PTSD, disability, discussions of sexuality, innuendo, loss of virginity, kissing, grinding, dry humping, p in v, fingering, spitting, hand job, nipple play, praise kink, dirty talk, creampie, oral-m and f rec., mentions of sex toys, semi-public sex, lingerie, discussions of safe sex and sexual health, aftercare, language, not beta'd

Issue #1: Three Rules...or Four?

Issue #2: First Base...or Second?

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

Issue #4: Too Much...or too Little?

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

Issue #6: Keep the Rules...or Break Them?

Issue #7: Brothers...or Bosses?

Issue #8: Should I Stay…or Should I Go?

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

Issue #10: Rare

tbc

Cast of characters: (you don't have to read this info beforehand. The story covers it all)

Triple Frontier Boys:

Santiago "Pope" Garcia - 16 years older than Hazel

Francisco (Frankie) "Catfish" Morales - 18 years older than Hazel

William (Will) "Ironhead" Miller - 14 years older than Hazel

Benjamin (Benny) Miller - 10 years older than Hazel

Tom is mentioned a few times but is not a major part of this story.

Original characters:

Hazel Miller - Main character, younger sister of Will, Jace and Benny Miller. 23 years old.

Jace Miller - the other Miller brother. Birth order is: Will, Jace, Ben, Hazel. Jace is 12 years older than Hazel

Angelica Morales, Frankie's wife

Vicente (Vinnie) Morales, Frankie's baby boy

Diego - next door neighbor and lifelong friend of the Millers. He also served in the military with the TF boys. Diego is 14 years older than Hazel - same age as Will

Elena - Diego's fiancée

Mateo - Diego's younger brother

Anna and Fiona - sisters and Hazel's high school besties, close to her age. All thee girls are home from their respective colleges for the summer

Hazel has long brown hair and brown eyes.

This story is also written as an x reader edition: Summer Project - Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Miller Sister!Reader

But there are completely new elements and details to this story. Places are specified, we learn Hazel's major, her goals and passions. Santiago's trauma and disability are explored.

Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list • fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

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