#tripple frontier fanfiction

[the-little-ewok]

Hard at work

Santiago Garcia X F!Reader

Rating : E/18+

Word count : 3800 (ish)

Warnings : SMUT, office setting (power play dynamics), PIV, unprotected sex, fingering, Dom!Santi (pretty soft), oral (f/receiving), lil bit dirty talk, reader wears a skirt, fluff, semi public sex (I guess. But not really?), Marking, *additional warnings under the fic at the end because spoilers ( nothing bad)

Prompts / summary : “I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional.”, "I think I've made my intentions clear", "Noone needs to know" / Santiago Garcia is your boss. And you should absolutely not be fucking your boss on his desk during the work day…

A/N : I've chosen to put some warnings at the end of the fic as I want to keep a couple of surprises. Nothing bad or super triggering I promise. But if you are worried please check before you read.

Thank you Vi for the hilarious tongue in cheek title 😂 and to the anon who requested!

Please if you read take time to reblog and maybe leave a comment or a couple of tags! The only way writers keep writing is if they hear from you.

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Ping

S. Gacia: I need to talk to you in my office. Now.

You stare at the message on your computer screen, debating if you could think of a good enough excuse not to go, unsure if you could keep your composure when you were alone with your boss today.

It wasn't that you were avoiding him exactly. You liked your boss, you really did. He was hard working, fair, supportive, maybe a little demanding at times, well, actually demanding all the time, but he was hot, in a sort of 'your daughter calls me daddy too' kinda way. He had the eye of every girl in the office, yours included. Most people would be glad to have a boss like him.

The problem was he always seemed to find an excuse to be inappropriate with you — pressing up against you as he leans over you to get a coffee mug out of the cupboard in the break room, brushing his hand against your thigh during meetings, looking at you, and not just a normal look, a complete undressing eye fuck that made your face heat and your thighs press together. He made you want him all the damn time.

And while so far nothing has happened at work, everyone else in the office has noticed the growing situation between you. Disappearing away from your pc to meet with him would only add fuel to the fire.

Ping.

S. Garcia : When I say now, I mean now.

With no good excuses coming to mind you get up with a sigh, smoothing down your skirt and making your way over to his office.

The door is pushed open already, Santiago sitting at his desk, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, the top few buttons undone, giving an air of relaxedness, but you can tell he's anything but. Your heart gives a now all too familiar flutter in your chest.

"Mr Garcia?"

You tap the door lightly to get his attention. He gestures you in with a silent wave of his hand, barely looking away from the laptop as you step into the room.

"One moment, and shut the door" he instructs you, tapping away at the keys and muttering in Spanish to himself. You swallow hard as you close the door behind you.

Eventually, your boss sighs, rubbing his hands down his face and shutting his laptop.

"Is everything okay?" You venture inquisitively. Perhaps whatever has frustrated him is the reason he called you in here? Maybe he needs your help with work?

Santiago gets up from his desk, coming around to stand in front of you, just a few steps from where you awkwardly shuffle your feet, waiting for him to speak.

"We need to talk."

You can't help but go through a mental rolodex of things you might have done that you need to talk about with him, but nothing comes to mind.

"I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional," he continues, leaning back against the polished wood with a sigh, as though it's your fault, as though you've done something to encourage him. Perhaps you have. You did specifically pick this outfit today, hoping it would spark his attention, and as his eyes roam a slow trail from your toes to your face, licking his lips, you know it worked, but maybe a little too well.

You choose the innocence card, pretending there hasn't been an underlying tension since you started working together.

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

He doesn't even hesitate for a second before he answers, clearly expecting your response. His dark eyes bore into yours, blatant desire shining through.

"I think you are."

You swallow hard. Sure you might have hoped to get a reaction out of him, but you hadn't actually expected it to work. Especially not when there were specific rules in place about office relationships, especially during work hours.

"No one needs to know," he offers slickly, like putting a deal on the table, some form of forbidden contract. He steps towards you, then around you, coming to stand at your back, close enough that you can feel the warmth from his body.

He leans into you, gripping your upper arms and then slowly allowing his palms to slide down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers.

"It's just us in here. Nobodys going to know what happens here today." His hands ghost over the tips of your fingers, continuing down, stepping closer so his body is pressed up against yours.

"Mr Garcia, I don't think this is the time. We have…we have… work to do." You stutter out as his hands map the curve of your hips, pressing himself against your back. Even as you speak your body leans back against him, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, betraying your every thought about him. You can almost feel the smug smile he's probably wearing, knowing he was right in his assumption that this isn't one sided, and that you really aren't thinking about the work piled on your desk.

Your eyes flutter closed as he presses a trail of kisses down your neck, before his tongue licks its way back up to take your earlobe in his teeth, tugging gently.

"Work can wait. I think I've made my intentions clear," he breathes against your skin. He says it like you have a choice about what happens next. Like there's any possible world in which you would say no.

But you aren't going to let him have the upper hand entirely. You can't just collapse into his arms and beg him to fuck you. He might be your boss, but that doesn't mean you can't have your own fun too.

"I'm really not sure I understand what you mean? Perhaps you'll have to be a little more direct, sir."

There's a hitch in his breath that lets you know the sir hit exactly the way you expected it to.

What you aren't quite expecting is the way he nudges you forward before pressing a hand between your shoulders, forcing you down, bending over his desk. The touch isn't violent or forceful, he isn't the sort of man to do that, but it's commanding enough for you to willingly follow the direction.

Taking both your hands in his he presses them down onto the desk, leaning over you.

"I can make my intentions as clear as you need," he growls, standing back up. "Don't move, or you're fired."

You'd like to think you know him well enough that it's probably an empty threat, but damn does it make your pussy flutter anyway. You press your palms harder against the cool wood, resigned to let him do as he wills with you.

His hands slip across your hips and down over your ass, admiring your position, before he hooks his fingers under the edge of your skirt and raises it, just a little. He's testing you. It's a silent request about how far you want this to go.

You don't move to stop him, so he lifts your skirt the rest of the way, almost delicately slowly, hitching it up over your hips.

He gives a soft hum of appreciation at the pretty lace panties you're wearing, the ones already starting to soak through with your arousal at the fact your boss has you bent over his desk, admiring your ass.

"Pretty," he drawls, pulling back the elastic and letting it snap against your skin, giving a stinging bite and making you gasp. "Not very work appropriate though."

You open your mouth to offer a sarcastic response that people at work don't usually see your panties, but the words catch in your throat as he slides his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down quickly, letting them fall the rest of the way, fully exposing you.

Not satisfied with that, he uses his foot to tap your ankle, encouraging you to lift first one foot, then the other, stepping out of your panties before he kicks them to one side.

"Spread your legs."

If you weren't wet before the gush of arousal you have at his words certainly soaks you now. It isn't a question, it isn't a request, it's an instruction, a command. You spread your legs just a little.

Santiago nudges them further apart with his foot, spreading you for his benefit, before he grabs your ass, squeezing as he surveys you with a groan.

"You're practically dripping on my carpet," he comments, making your face heat.

You hear the whisper of fabric and glancing behind you you see him kneel on the floor, his hands dropping to your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh.

He meets your shocked gaze.

"Now let me be very, very clear in what I want."

The broken noise that leaves your throat as he licks a hot stripe through your folds isn't one you've ever made before, your body jolting forward on the desk.

Your rational brain tells you this is a bad idea. You should be working, not letting your boss eat you out on his desk of all places. But then he seals his lips over your clit, sucking hard, and you can't seem to care about work anymore.

You quickly realise he's too good at this, too good at making you tremble all too quickly, taking long slow laps at your clit, pressing his hot tongue deep inside you, growling and groaning as though you were the best thing he's tasted. He has you on the edge of a climax in no time.

Your fingers dig into the hardwood, curling around the edge of the desk, biting out a curse as his tongue completes another slow circle around your clit.

You wish you could see him, tangle your fingers in his short curls, direct him how to throw you over the edge, but you suspect he knows exactly how, and he's dragging this out for his own pleasure.

"Mr Garcia…Santiago…" you hiccup pleadingly, barely able to get enough air in your lungs.

You don't know if it's mercy or torture when his mouth leaves you, giving a playful bite to your ass before he gets to his feet, gently tugging you up, unpeeling you off the desk, his hands on your waist, steadying you on wobbling legs as he spins you to face him.

"Clear now?" He asks, almost impatiently. His eyes are dark, your slick still shining on his chin as he makes a show of licking his lips.

"That was…pretty clear," you breathe shakily.

He smirks as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding you still as he presses his lips to yours, allowing you to taste yourself as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It's not the type of kiss you're expecting from him. He kisses you sensually, tenderly, it's slow and decadent. He lets go of your chin in order to slide his hand around the back of your neck, holding you to him as his tongue slides against yours, drawing soft little moans from you.

When he pulls away your lips are kiss swollen and your fingers are tangled in his curls the way you wanted to do only moments ago.

"I want to fuck you here, on my desk," he whispers against your lips. "I want to stain the wood with your cum so there's always a part of you in here with me."

Oh fuck.

You don't answer initially, forcing down the moan of desire that tries to escape. Instead, you lift yourself up onto the desk, feeling the cool wood against your heated skin, before you curl your fingers around the white collar of his shirt, pulling him close to you. You're done waiting. You're done playing. You're done being professional.

"So fuck me already."

His mouth crashes into yours, kissing you hard as you both scramble to unbuckle his pants. He's barely shoved them down before his hands are gripping your thighs, tugging you roughly forward to the edge of the desk, lining himself up at your entrance, his actions messy and impatient.

Even so, he presses into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to the stretch that borders pleasure and pain, swallowing each of your moans with his kisses, letting out a low groan as he bottoms out, giving a soft nip of his teeth to your bottom lip.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Pussy is so wet for me," he slurs, taking your chin back in his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "How much have you thought about fucking your boss you filthy girl?"

Ring. Ring.

The sharp trill of the phone cuts in, making you both pause, turning to look at it mocking you from its space next to the laptop.

Shit. No. Not now. The timing could not be any worse. You need this. You've waited too long for this.

Santiago looks at you, his gaze questioning. You shake your head, silently pleading with him not to answer, not to put an end to this yet.

He lets out a soft curse, glancing over to the phone and reading the caller ID.

"Be quiet," he hisses, leaning over you and to your shock, clicking the answer button.

You don't quite know how to react as he grabs one of your thighs, hoisting it up over his hip, forcing his cock deeper as he starts to thrust into you. It steals the breath from your lungs and you let out a choked noise, throwing a hand over your mouth to smother it, still shocked he's actually taking this call.

Santiago lets out a quiet laugh at your reaction as he speaks on the phone, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Fish, what's up?"

"Just checking in on how things are going," the man on the phone answers easily, clearly unaware of the position your boss was in.

"Hard at work," Santiago answers, thrusting deeply into you with the last word, and you squeeze your eyes shut, desperately muffling your moans of pleasure.

You can't believe he's doing this, casually carrying on a conversation as he leisurely rocks into you. Your mind can't really keep up with the discussion— something about a BBQ on the weekend — too distracted in concentrating on keeping quiet, and hoping the wet squelch of your pussy isn't being picked up on the call.

You bury your face into his neck, trying not to allow the pleasure threading through you to give you both away. It's an uphill battle. Each steady thrust pushes you closer, your pussy already sensitive from his earlier ministrations.

You're not expecting it when he turns his head, his teeth biting down on your pulse point. It's just enough to send a shock through your system, making your eyes snap open, and your pussy clamp down on his cock.

Santiago's eyes go wide and it's him that lets out a choked moan, clearly far louder than he intended to. There's a beat of silence in the conversation as he scrambles for the phone receiver.

You have a moment of smug satisfaction at his panic, but the joy is fleeting, as when his eyes are back on you, smouldering and dark, phone in his hand, you realise you are in trouble. A lot of trouble.

"I'll call you back."

Click. With the press of a button the phone call ends, the receiver clattering noisily back onto the desk. Santiago's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging in hard enough there will be marks.

"You shouldn't have done that."

You have a moment of panic that he's going to end this, leave you on the edge, unsatisfied, and send you back to your desk desperate and needy. But instead, he pulls almost all the way out of you, before slamming his hips into yours.

You let out a strangled moan. Every time you think he can't possibly go deeper, he angles his hips and sinks in further. You want to scramble back on the desk, give yourself a moment to breathe, to think, to process the bliss, but Santiago's hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as you fall back on your elbows, splayed out across his desk, being used solely for his pleasure.

Santiago follows your movement, bending himself over you, causing the angle of his thrusts to change just slightly and hit something bright inside you. Pens and papers clatter noisily to the floor as the desk rocks with you. In a desperate attempt to stop yourself from suddenly being pushed over the other side, you grab onto his shoulders, holding yourself in place.

There's a growing blissful ache in your pussy and muscles that lets you know you'll still feel this tomorrow.

But you don't care, you can't care. All you care about is the knot in your stomach tightening, your muscles straining, your vision whiting out. All you care about is the pleasure careening through you.

Your pussy clamps down around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as your climax bursts through you. You give all pretence at being quiet, throwing your head back as you all but scream his name, uncaring who hears.

"Fuck, Santiago!"

The clench of your pussy drags him over the edge with you, and he muffles a growl into your neck, filling you with hot bursts of cum.

He pauses there, buried deep inside you, your pussy still pulsing as you come down. Lifting his head he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands tenderly massaging your thighs, slipping up your back to pull you to sit up, holding you against him.

When he eventually pulls away, his eyes roam your face, taking in your dishevelled appearance, pressing a final gentle kiss to your lips, before he slips out of you, pulls his pants back up and disappears around the other side of the desk.

You slide off shakily, your skirt still bunched up around your waist, turning to watch him throw himself down into the office chair, your panties dangling from his fingers like a hard won prize, back to his cocky, self assured, smug self. All traces of the softness he had only moments ago, wiped away.

"You won't be needing these back," he grins, opening his top drawer to drop your panties inside, before snapping it shut, his gaze daring you to protest as you stand open mouthed.

"Can I at least have something to clean-"

"No." He cuts you off, going back to clicking through his emails on his computer.

You have the realisation that he expects you to walk back to your desk with his cum still dripping down your thighs. You imagine the stain on your skirt, on your chair, one that probably won't ever fully come out, the stain like the one currently staring at you from the wood of his desk, a constant reminder of this day.

It shouldn't make your pussy clench the way it does.

You swallow, pulling down your skirt, ignoring the slick already coating your thighs, and give him a defiant stare.

"Very well. Will that be all Mr Garcia?" You mock sarcastically. If he was going to go back to professional, then so were you.

He doesn't even glance at you as he answers, dismissing you as though nothing has happened.

"For now. But don't go far. I don't think it will be long before I need to see you again."

You suppress a smile as you leave.

~

"Still working hard?"

Looking up from the document you've barely typed a word on all afternoon, you meet the gentle gaze of your boyfriend.

His eyes crinkle as he smiles warmly at you.

"Yeah, I haven't really managed to get much done," you sigh, glancing back to the half written document, knowing it's a lost cause for now.

"You look tired, baby. Your boss working you too hard?"

"He's pretty unforgiving," you hum, rubbing your eyes, your body aching with exhaustion. "Three times he had me in his office today."

Your boyfriend lets out a low impressed whistle.

"Harsh. Well, how about you leave whatever you're doing for now? I'm sure your boss will be okay with it being finished tomorrow. I'll run you a bath, make some dinner, then we can relax in front of the TV? Your choice of movie."

"That actually sounds perfect," you smile, logging out of the pc and getting to your feet, stretching your cramped muscles.

He holds his hand out to you as you come around the desk, pulling you into his arms and giving you a sweet kiss.

"I told you having two home offices would be fun," Santiago grins, his eyes bright.

Giggling, you shake your head.

"Yes, but I don't think we got any work done!"

Santiago shrugs nonchalantly.

"Guess that's the perks of being with the boss. I'll let you get away with it and make it up tomorrow." He winks and you laugh, knowing you both have a huge amount of work to catch up on now.

When he'd suggested you work with him you'd been hesitant for this exact reason. But he'd promised to keep quiet about your relationship initially, while you settled into the job, and for the most part, Santiago was professional in the office, although your colleagues had started to notice his almost blatant eye fucks. If you were honest, you didn't help the situation, sending him filthy chat messages, knowing he couldn't have you until you made it home. It turned out professionalism when you wanted to fuck your boss, was hard work.

You squeeze his hand as he leads you to the bathroom.

"Santi, can I have my panties back?"

"Nope," he grins positively merrily. "I'm going to frame them and put them next to the stain on my desk."

You roll your eyes, unsure if he's joking or not, but judging by the look on his face, you think not.

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Additional warnings (ending spoilers):

*illusions to infidelity/cheating (it's not I promise)/ role playing

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Thank you for reading! Please if you enjoyed take the time to comment and reblog! As writers we always want to hear your thoughts!

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

Home [Frankie 'Catfish' Morales]

pairing: frankie 'catfish' morales x reader

wordcount: 787

warnings: none

The loose floorboard in the hallway groans a warning as Frankie eases the apartment door shut with his hip, willing the latch to catch without waking you. It doesn’t cooperate. The sound reverberates like a gunshot in the predawn stillness.

He winces. Holds his breath. Tries to focus on any other sound that isn’t the pounding of his own pulse in his ears. Half-expects to hear the rustle of sheets, the padding of concerned feet.

But the bedroom remains silent. Small mercies. 

In the cramped kitchen, he deposits his keys in the stoneware bowl you made in that pottery class last spring — the glaze a blue so pale it’s almost grey. Frankie likes the weight of it in his palm, the way the cool lip catches on his fingertips. Solid. Real. Just like you.

He then sheds his jacket. The leather one you say makes him look like one of main characters from those Mexican telenovelas your mother used to watch. Drapes the garment over the wonky lath-back chair neither of you use. Stops. Closes his eyes. 

The grey half-light filtering through the blinds paints his skin in shades of ash and sorrow. He knows what he’ll see if he looks in the mirror hanging beside the door. Hair overdue for a cut. Stubble gone rogue. Crow's feet carved deep as canyons around eyes that have seen too much. Bruises under his eyes darker than the ones blooming across his ribs, souvenirs from a world that's always been more keen to break than to bend.

But there are laugh lines there too, now. Trenches carved by joy instead of worry. Your love marks him in kinder ways. And when you run the pad of your thumb along the furrow between his brows, it’s always a little less deep than it was this time last year.

You’re gentling him. Slowly, slowly. A feral creature coaxed in from the cold, learning to trust the warmth of the heart.

Frankie fills the coffee pot. Catalogues his aches as it percolates. His shoulder throbs and his knuckles sting beneath their ripped scabs. Nothing he hasn't endured before. And if he’s being honest, he doesn't remember what it feels like to wake up without something hurting. Without some part of him crying out in remembered pain.

But it's duller now, muted. Easier to breathe through.

He looks away.

There are pink dish gloves, as size too small for his hands, draped over the faucet. A mug with a chip on the rim waiting beside the sink – a faint lipstick print still visible.

You’d waited up. You always wait up. 

His heart clenches and his chest fills up with that feeling that always leaves him a bit disoriented. A little bit dizzy. 

He carries his coffee to the sagging couch, the one you'd picked out together at the thrift store down the street. It's ugly as sin but sinfully comfortable. He sinks into it now, letting the worn fabric absorb his weight, his weariness.

The first sip scalds his throat but he welcomes the burn. Lets his head fall back. Stares at the ceiling. There’s a water stain in the corner that looks like a lopsided heart. He wonders if it’s shaped like yours, misshapen from making room for him inside its chambers. 

His eyes prickle. He closes them. 

The bedroom door sighs and there’s a soft shuffling of bare feet on hardwood. And then you emerge — hair sleep-mussed and eyes barely open. But then you blink at him, your eyes still hazy with dreams, soft and rumpled and smudged at the edges.

His chest constricts, a sweet ache blooming behind his ribs.

"You're home," you mumble, padding to the couch on quiet feet before climbing into his lap, graceless with exhaustion, all elbows and knees and cold toes seeking warmth. You fit yourself against him, your head finding the crook of his neck like it was made to rest there — your cool nose nuzzling against his pulse point.

He wraps his arms around you. Tugs you closer.

“I’m home,” Frankie whispers into your hair, and you only burrow closer. Tuck your cold toes under his thigh. Hum contentedly when his fingers slip under your shirt to trace your spine. His ribs creak as you settle but he doesn’t shift you. Just breathes you in. You smell like sleep and fabric softener and something that might be peace. 

The weak winter sunlight inches across the floor, tentative and pale, reaching for you with gossamer fingers. He lets it come. Lets it wash over you, chasing away the lingering shadows of the night. There are no shadows here it can’t touch. Not anymore. Not while you’re in his arms. 

Not while you're his home.

[modernperplexity]

Mine Ch. 1: Homecoming

Chapter Rating: E (18+) Minors DNI, mention of alcohol, substance abuse, suggestive language, abandonment.

Word Count: 4K

A/N: Ahh the day is here and Chapter 1 is finally posted! I apologize for the delay. I had originally planned for this to be up sooner but life happened and my week became more busy than expected. You guys, this first chapter is kind of massive as I am introducing characters and setting up the plot. As I mentioned in my previous post, this is my very first fic so please be kind and bear with me. My asks are open to suggestions, questions, comments, etc. I definitely want to grow and improve as a writer <3

Again, special thanks to @ssuperficialspacecadett, your advice on fic writing was truly helpful! <3 Please, please, please be sure to check out her writing! She is SO very talented!

If you'd like to join the tag list click here :)

Happy Frankie Friday y'all!

Mine Masterlist

Mine Chapter 1: Homecoming

It felt like the billionth-mile marker you had passed on the way to your new apartment. “Almost home, just three more hours to go.” you quietly encouraged your tired self after 18 hrs on the road. You miss the warm kiss of the Florida sun and the palm trees gently swaying in the cool breeze of the beach. The open road ahead was brimming with new possibilities but the closer you came to home, the more daunting it all became. Your hands nervously gripped the steering wheel as you took a deep breath in and slowly out. “It’s the right choice, new job, new era, just with familiar people...It was the right call.” You muttered to yourself, doing your best to quiet the insecure thoughts with your favorite podcast.

You had loved Seattle- absolutely adored it. Your job was amazing, and your apartment beautiful, but tainted. So you pushed through an extra six months after calling off the engagement in an attempt to make the city your own, only to realize you had outgrown it. You had outgrown that relationship too, gave him so many damn chances to fess up about his dubious behavior but drew the line when you serendipitously found a red lacey thong under his bed.

*RINGGG* your phone blared through your train of thought, consequently yanking you back to earth. “Hey, girl! How’s the road?” Michele had been ecstatic at the recent news of your return and proud that you had split with Sam. He was what she often referred to as a “pinche cabron” (fucking idiot). After all, Michele was not the type of person to keep her thoughts to herself. She was always intuitive and strong. Her shoulder being the one you’d lean on time and time again.

“It’s…long” you laughed nervously, “Can’t wait to get my hands on a Cubano and some Tostones.”

“Oh my god! That’s right, you’ve been deprived! I’ll pick some up for us and swing by your new place. Just send me your new address and ETA.”

“You’re an angel! Thank you!” you chirped, your voice betraying your efforts to mask the anxiety boiling up in your chest.

“Hey… you okay?” 

Nothing gets past this woman.

A deep sigh relieves the tension in your body while you shift in your seat, stretching your aching back. “Yeah, just getting in my head. Coming home is the right call…right?”. You almost felt defeated, like you moved across the country and came back with nothing to show for it.

“Absolutely! Honestly, after everything that happened. I don’t blame you. I would’ve done the same thing. You know what? I know just what you need. We’re going out.” 

The next few days were a blur. The moving boxes in your living room were now nearly gone thanks to Michele and a couple of other friends and family that had stopped by to welcome you back home. Thank goodness for their help, your body was so tired from the trip, it didn’t dawn on you until last night that you’d start your new Speech Language Pathologist Assistant (SLPA) job at the speech clinic the next day. 

The clinic had more Speech Language Pathologists (SLPs) and SLPAs than you were used to but that was a blessing honestly. After a day of orientation and introductions, you really felt like you had landed on your feet. The sense of familiarity eased your new job jitters. The lead therapist showed you to your office and you began setting your room up with materials and games for the patients you’d be seeing that day. Lindsay, the sweet SLPA whose office was across from yours, briefly introduced herself and gave you a heads-up about the patients on your schedule. She passed along her notes on the patients who she had seen previously. Their preferences in toys, games, and their progress toward their goals.

“Thank you so much, Lindsay. This is a huge help!” 

“No problem, who’s first on your schedule?”

Your hands scrambled through your notes. “Umm…Camila Morales. Have you done therapy with her before?”

“Nope, must be an initial visit. She’s a little one too, says she’s only 3 years old on her evaluation.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks!” You said as you turned on your heel and continued preparing for the session.

Should be fine. Just interviewing the parent, going over goals, letting the patient get to know me… I got this.

You grabbed your patient’s chart at the front desk as the 9 o’clock patients signed in. Lindsay nudged your side and nodded in the direction of the reception desk as a handsome man in a cap grabbed a pen and a clipboard. “I think that’s your patient being signed in”. With a slight nod, you made your way to meet your first patient of the day. 

“Camila Morales” you called into the waiting room.

Camila slowly and carefully climbed off the waiting room chair as she heard her name. Her dark chocolate curls gathered into two ponytails bouncing as she made her way to greet you.

 “You must be Camila! I’m your speech teacher, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m so excited to show you all the toys we will use for your therapy session today.” You chirped sweetly as you crouched down to her eye level. The corners of her lips slightly curved into a sheepish smile as she held her father’s hand and a light blue stuffed bunny in the other.  

“Morning, Miss. Sorry about Bunzy, she refuses to go just about anywhere without him” he explained. 

Your gaze met the deep brown eyes of the man in the cap. His gaze was strong but warm, his smile immediately charming. “Good morning! Oh please don’t worry, it won’t be a bother.” You give him your name and stretch out your hand “You must be Mr. Morales.” 

“Oh, no. I’m not, uh… I’m Santiago…Santiago Garcia, Cami’s godfather. Fish asked me to bring Cami to her first appointment. He got caught up at work but he’ll be here for the next session.” He breathed. He settled in the chair in your office, watching as Cami eagerly darted to the Dollhouse you brought out for her, already making herself comfortable much to his content.

It took you a moment to register what Santiago said. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I assumed you were her father. Um…did you say Fish?” You said as you grinned at the odd pet name and looked over Camila’s file.

He let out a slight chuckle “I did… My apologies, I meant Mr. Morales...old habits, I guess” he shrugged in awe at himself using a prefix before his best friend’s last name. The way it rolled off his tongue, was unnatural, like a fish out of water.

“Ah,” you smiled, “Got it. Well, today is going to be a pretty easygoing session. I just want to get to know her, let her get to know me, and we will go over her speech goals” You took a packet of speech delay information that you usually handed out to parents and handed them to Santiago. “Please pass along this information to Mr. Morales.. Can you tell me more about Camila?”

Santiago filled you in on Cami’s favorite games, songs, books, and toys. He knew her first words and how frustrated she would get when she could not communicate her wants and needs. He knew Cami quite well and talked about her as if she was his own. She was so comfortable with him, it was easy to see that they had a strong bond. As predicted, the session was a breeze and soon enough Cami was waving goodbye to you as Santiago carried a giggling Cami down the hall, praising her for earning a glittery unicorn sticker. You swear you could hear his smile as he said “Te portaste muy bien preciosa” (You behaved so well, lovely girl).

It was the 5th attempt at coming up with an outfit tonight. The clock was ticking and you knew you were behind schedule. Michele was on her way and she was never one to be late. The room was a mess and your clothes were everywhere. You glanced at your phone which read 8:50 pm. The time pressuring you to settle on a pair of black distressed wide-leg jeans, block-heeled sandals, and a cowl neck camisole. 

Oh my god! Michele is going to kill me. I haven't even done my makeup!

You went for an easy look, foundation, blush, mascara, light shadow, and eyeliner. Not trying to impress anyone tonight, It was a girl's night after all. As you applied the finishing touches to your make-up, you heard the front door that you had left unlocked anticipating Michele’s arrival, creak open. Soon after, her steps echoed down the hall leading to your bathroom.

Shit, out of time. 

“G’damn, mujer, you’re not ready?” She leaned, arms crossed against the door frame.

Your makeup brush hit the vanity and your hands swung up at the sound of her voice, “I’m ready, I swear... I’m ready” You giggled.

“Okay, Slothy McSlothson. I hope you stocked up your fridge with Pedialite cause we’re probably gonna need it later” she chided “I’ll put in the Lyft request and let the other girls know we’ll be heading out soon”

“You sneaky girl! I’ve been rushing thinking it was pre-scheduled!” a playful scoff leaving your mouth.

“What? I know you! I knew you were gonna run late, so I figured I’d get the Lyft when I got to your place.” She shrugged and reached for the bottle of Gin she brought for you and mixed it with mango juice. 

“Here, I thought we’d pregame before the Lyft gets here. I know you can get a little nervous going out sometimes.”

A small gasp left you, “My little Cuban hero, thanks!” eagerly taking the cup and taking a sip, “Where are we going anyway?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

You heard excited squeals as you walked into the lively Cuban bar, the upbeat Salsa filling the space, almost drowning out their enthusiastic embraces. The friends you hadn’t seen in a few years, Crystal, Lexi, and Naomi, ran up to hug you and Michele. After ordering your drinks you sat at a table near the folding window of the bar. They caught you up on their love lives, work, and family. You tried hard to keep the attention on them and not on your failed engagement but it was only a matter of time before it came up.

“Wait, why are we the only ones talking… what happened with Sam?” Crystal asked.

In an instant Michele looked up at you after taking a sip of her drink, attempting to read your expression to know if she needed to change the subject or not. She could read you like a book. 

Your gaze met hers, “It’s fine” you waived her off “Things with Sam are done, turns out he wasn’t as committed to me or the idea of spending the rest of his life with one person.” 

“Awe shit” Lexi added, “so that means..”

“Yep, found a little souvenir his girl left behind” They all groaned, almost in unison.

“It’s okay, I think I’m better off. I’m relieved I found out before I gave up my apartment or started making any deposits on venues.”

“And you’re back now… who knows, maybe you were meant to course correct and come back home.” Crystal chimed in.

“Either way, you seem like you’re doing great. We’re glad to have you back” Michele smiled and squeezed your hand to reassure you.

The night continued as your group bar hopped from place to place. The warm summer breeze enveloped you as you walked arm linked with your friends. Michele led your group to the last stop of the night. You all but stopped in your tracks when you saw the buzzing neon Live Karaoke sign. 

Well, this is going to be fun.

Frankie couldn’t help his fidgeting tonight, consistently checking his phone for updates on Cami. He wondered if she finished her dinner if she struggled during bath time, or if she gave his mom trouble when it was time to go to bed. He leaned on his mom for support if he absolutely needed to. Only letting her babysit when he was at work or when he ran errands. He was so hell-bent on being a good father and staying out of trouble that he hardly let himself relax. He reasoned he owed Cami that much, especially after Ashley decided to leave. After her frustration with his decision to go on that mission, after he came back distraught by the loss of Tom and the wreck of a mission that he was part of, only to fall into the familiar comfort of his vice. Fed up and devastated, Ashley decided to take Cami to Frankie’s mother’s house after saying she was going out for groceries only to never return. That was the day that changed everything. It was that moment that snapped him back into reality. He needed to do better, be better, for Cami. That was all that mattered.

There was no way in hell Santiago would let him cancel. Not after he, Ben, and Will had planned this night for weeks. It had only been a couple of days since Santiago’s return from traveling around the world. This night was a big deal, it was the first time in a long time they were finally all in one place. Frankie would not hear the end of it if he bailed, especially since Pope was currently staying at Frankie’s until he found a place of his own. Frankie loved his daughter but It did sound nice to let loose with the boys. He had worked so hard to be who he was now.

“Fish, you good?” Santi asked, as he gave him a solid pat on the back “Seemed like you were somewhere else for a sec.”

“Just worried about Cami” he breathed before raising his glass to his lips.

“She’s in safe hands, it’s your mom. She raised YOU, she can handle Cami” Will chimed in and took a sip of his beer.

“You guys have been going on about how you’ve been planning this for weeks and you settled… on a karaoke bar?” Frankie chuckled.

“It was Ben’s idea,” Will and Santiago said in unison.

Ben rolled his eyes, “What? It was an honest mistake, we failed to notice one little detail.” 

“The bar we wanted to go to turns into a club on Saturday nights, and we all know clubbing is not your scene or mine” Will added.

“...and remind me what was wrong with our usual spot?” Frankie pressed.

“C’mon man, It’s a great bar! Brought a date out here last week. Just give it a chance. The live band is great!” 

“As long as you don’t sign me up” Ben gave Frankie a devilish grin and stood up “Ben...Benny…don’t you fucking dare!” Frankie’s grip became tighter around the beer he was nursing.

“C’mon old man, it’s all in good fun! You boys make sure he gets a couple more drinks in him, I’ll be right back” Ben winked as he walked away.

Santiago laughed as Frankie dragged his hands over his face “Tranquilo, I’m sure he just went to the bathroom or somethin’ he’s just busting your balls.” Frankie sighs “He’s right though, you gotta chill... I’ll get us another round”

A group of girls walked by and caught Santiago’s eye as he made it to the bar. Particularly one of the girls. She was pretty- very pretty. He could’ve sworn he’d seen her somewhere. It bothered Santiago for all of two minutes until he decided he’d let it go and focus on the boys. He rounded up the beers he ordered and turned to walk back to the group when he heard you. He recognized your voice. He hardly recognized you without your scrubs on. “Oh shit! That’s Cami’s speech teacher!” he muttered under his breath. He thought it best to keep this to himself, for that moment at least. He returned to the table when his mouth dropped. “No.. way! Is that-”

“Ben. Fucking. Miller…who knew he had it in him!?” Frankie interrupted. His suspicions were half correct. Ben had made his way to sign someone up to the karaoke list- himself. 

Ben taps the mic half haphazardly and clears his throat “Is everyone having a good time!?” the crowd cheers “I said.. Is everyone having a good time!!?” the crowd cheers even louder, “M’names Ben…Ben Miller and I’m about to make it even better.” he chuckled to himself “Alright ‘nuff talk, this one’s for my boys!” he turned to the band drink in hand as they continued the chord progressions to The Boys are Back In Town by Thin Lizzy. 

“That boy…always loved the limelight. He’s eating this shit up” Will chuckled as he shook his head.

“Holy shit” Santiago nodded to the music “not bad either”. He laughed and turned to see a more relaxed Frankie who had his sight set somewhere other than the stage. It seemed that Santiago wasn’t the only one who had noticed you.

The live karaoke bar had the feel of a big theatre with two levels. Each table had a great view of the stage that had a full live band that had an expansive repertoire of songs available for those brave enough to sign up. The stage was impressive and lively, the stage lights changed colors and moved depending on the song of choice.

After getting your drinks, you and the girls decided on a table close to the stage when a guy named Ben went up to sing. He was really into the song- holding on to the mic stand and swinging it around while he sang. The lights turned blue and yellow around him, highlighting his strong features. 

“Wooo Ben!” Lexi cheered,“he’s hot.. definitely your type, Michele”

“Ooh, she’s not wrong Meesh, he’s right up your alley” you added “Wha- oh… okay” you laughed as you realized you and Lexi hadn’t even noticed that Michele had left the table. “Could’ve sworn she was right next to me” you shrugged.

Ben’s song came to a close and the crowd cheered. He definitely was a crowd favorite, from what you had seen, at least. There was a lull for a few minutes while the live band played an 80’s song in the background when the lights turned down and the stage lights turned red. You heard what you thought was the intro to a Queen song and you knew immediately who’d be up there. A sweet and slightly buzzed Michele appeared on stage. “Hi, I’m Michele and this song goes out to my best friend who just moved back to Florida- put your hands together for her!” the spotlight shone on you and the crowd cheered. Your eyes went wide, and your body stiffened. You tried your best not to cower in the heat of the light. All you could manage was a shy smile and wave. After what felt like an eternity, the spotlight shifted back to the stage, as you heard Michele start to sing and dance to the melody of Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. The stress of being the center of attention left your mouth dry. You needed a drink- desperately. 

Frankie’s gaze followed you as you walked to the bar. He was almost mesmerized, maybe this could be a good night but there was no way he could talk to you. He couldn’t even remember the last time he flirted. His whole world had been consumed by NA meetings, work, and taking care of his little girl. 

“Wow, Fish, she’s gorgeous! At least go buy her a drink. If you don’t, I will, and we both know I’ll go home with more than just her number” Ben breathed.

*smack!* Without hesitation Will slapped Benny upside the head

“Shut up Ben!” Santiago retorted, pausing to look at Frankie. “He’s right, you gotta get back out there. It’s been a while since…just…let yourself have some fun. I’ve seen how you've been gawking at her for the last 5 minutes. If you don’t go, I’ll beat Benny to the bar and we all know. it will be over for you then” he winks.

Frankie turns to Will, who had consistently been the voice of reason. “Pope’s right, at least go talk to her. What have you got to lose?”

“I’ll give you a head start” Benny started counting down with a shit-eating grin “Three…two”

Frankie jerked up and out of his seat, beer in hand almost spilling some on his shirt from the sheer force of the movement “You know what?...Fuck all of you!” he said with a wide smirk and middle finger in the air. He started toward the bar, the men’s laughter fading in the background.

His pace slowed down when he saw you sitting at the bar. He could tell you were kind by the way your eyes sparkled and smiled along with your curving lips when you talked to the bartender. You looked so pretty, so sweet, so…unattainable. There was no way he could talk to you. Frankie started to panic. His mind started to race and think of the many ways he would ruin it. What was the point of even trying to talk to someone new? He had ruined his previous relationship and basically tore his family apart. Why run the risk of going through something like that again? He was more than halfway to the bar when you caught him looking at you.

Fuck, there’s no turning back now. 

Frankie groaned at the thought of the plaguing questions he’d receive from Ben and Pope. He thought it best to bring back a round of beers to ease the embarrassment. 

“I’ll have four Blue Moons,” He said, his body tense as he took a seat on the red stool. 

“You wanna close the tab or leave it open?” 

“You can go ahead and close it..thanks.” He said as he shifted in his seat, reaching for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The bartender placed the beers on the bar and placed the customer's receipt and a pen in front of him. Frankie was about to sign when he noticed something.

Tequila Sunrise………$6.45

His gaze lifted to look for the bartender, “Uh.. this isn’t my-”

“I think he mixed up our receipts” a kind voice sweetly interrupted. 

“I couldn’t toss back four bottles in one sitting if I tried” You shrugged, and smiled at the handsome stranger, “Do you mind?” 

“Not at all” he motioned to the seat next to him.

“Rough night, I take it?”

“Oh uh…nah these aren’t all for me but if I was having a rough night, this would be the part where it starts to get better” he flashed you a half smile before taking a sip of his beer. That was the moment when you really noticed his features. The hook of his nose, how his locks curled and peaked under his hat, the small target tattoo on the hand that held his beer.

God, he’s gorgeous.

“So.. tequila, huh,” he said as he handed you your receipts.

“Yeah... I uh, needed something a bit stronger after my friend’s shout-out. It was sweet, but If I’m being honest don’t like being the center of attention.”

“I get that. Well..welcome back. I’m Frankie by the way” he stretched out his hand and shook yours. Your heartbeat reacted to the way his touch felt on your skin. 

You both watched the following performances, giggling as you created silly backstories for each person and why they selected the song they were belting out on stage. This was nice, definitely a breath of fresh air in comparison to the handful of dates you had recently been on- your attempt at getting “back out there”. This wasn’t even a date but you couldn’t help but notice how effortless and natural it felt. You talked about your childhood and your favorite beaches to visit. How you used to love stargazing while listening to the sound of the crashing waves, it was your favorite thing to do especially on a bad day. Frankie shared what brought him to Florida, how he enlisted with his best friend, and what prompted him to begin his career as a pilot. His eyes lit up when he talked about flying, his passion and pride on full display. The beers he had ordered stood forgotten, highlighting the time that had passed.

“Oh wow, I uh.. should get back to my group, and by the looks of it your friends might be needing their beers chilled” you chuckled “But it was really nice talking to you, Frankie,” You said hopping off the barstool.

“I had a great time talking to you too, Hermosa. I hope you have a great rest of your night” His deep chocolate-brown eyes scanned yours. “You too,” You said as you smiled and turned, ready to head back to your group.

“Wait!” he reached out, his fingers gently curling around your wrist, “I didn’t get your name”. The pen the bartender left out came in handy as you reached for it with one hand and held his with the other. Frankie couldn’t help but stare as you bit your lip while you wrote down your name and number on his palm, carefully drawing a small heart next to your name. 

“Call me sometime.”

  “Aaand he’s back! Pope and I thought we were gonna have to go over there and remind you that tonight was for the boys!” Ben teased as Frankie shook his head as he handed the beers to the men.

“So, how’d it go?” Santi prodded.

“She’s great, we hit it off..” 

“You get her number or is my beer dangerously close to being lukewarm for nothin’?” Will chided with a sly grin.

“Awe shit..” Frankie’s brows furrowed at the sight of ink smeared on his palm, “the fuckin beers” His eyes desperately searched the venue, but you were nowhere in sight.

“The hell happened Fish…OH, damn that sucks.” Ben rubbed the back of his neck “Well.. uh..did ya at least get her name?” 

Frankie dragged his hand against his face cursing himself for not being more careful.

Pope padded him on the back “Well who knows.. if it’s fate” he shrugged with a half smile, “you’ll see her again”.

You had spent part of your weekend awaiting a text or a call from Frankie. To your dismay, the only notifications causing your screen to glow were Instagram notifications, promotion e-mails, and texts from Michele, who had been eagerly awaiting an update on your situation. By the time Monday rolled around you had given up hope that the brown-eyed pilot you had met that weekend had any interest. You chalked up your connection to him being overly friendly. It wasn’t like he really initiated. Maybe he wouldn’t have talked to you at all had it not been for the bartender’s mistake. You shrugged and shook it off, there wasn’t much you could do about it.

Monday morning’s alarm came a lot faster than you had hoped. You put on your scrubs and grabbed a piece of toast and a cup of coffee before rushing out the door. You were determined to have a great morning. Listened to your upbeat playlist in the car singing your little heart all the way to work. 

You made your way down the clinic hall, excited to meet your first patient of the day. Opening the door to see a sweet little curly-haired girl swaying her legs in her seat.

“Cam- Oof!” Little Cami crashed into you as her little arms wrapped around your legs, “Hello to you too Cami!” you smiled at her as you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hermosa?” Your eyes went wide at the sound of the voice, his voice.

Chapter 2

Taglist:

@ssuperficialspacecadett @spookyjamie333

[milkshakeworm]

people are not as insane as me about tripple frontier and i will not read nicholas cage fanfiction

finding pedro fics is so hard cus i dont want a rpf nor xreader so i have to look up fandomless movies and shows and hope people are as insane as me

[killitquick]

HELP HELP HELP

OKay so yall i went to delete a side blog turns out it was my main. NEWAYS  if you were following   @till-the-moon-calls-me-home

 then please please PLEASE know that I AM SO SORRY AND I AM SO DEVESTATED ABOUT THIS. 

if you were following any of my writing. just know that like FUCK i hate this and i had so many drafts and i wanna die. especially if you were following tripple frontier, Peaky Blinders or my Batman series YO IM CRYING. ANYWAYS...UHM I dunno im feeling lost and like throwin myself off a bridge tbh.  

SO if you were following any of those stories, uhm thank you so much for reading my writing and bearing with me through rewrites and stuff. I never thought this would or could happen but it did. I love you guys so much. 

[221bshrlocked]

Catch me crying. This is so nice. And cute omg 🥲

How are you? - been better tbh. Staying alive but don't really know how

How's the weather where you are? -very English

You doing okay? - i wish we weren't in a capitalism hellscape

You staying hydrated? - Uhm. On that note. Let me grab a water real quick

What's something you want to read but can't find a fic for (I can write you something)? It's stupid. But. I saw a interview with Oscar isaak where he was like "Na kill baby yoda" and he dosnt get the hype and now I want to see either din and poe enemies to lover OR santi and catfish (from tripple frontier) arguing star wars. Might not write anything myself because while I do have ideas there is nothing coming out for almost a year now.

How's school/work going? I was in edinburgh over the weekend (its very close to where I live) and was one hour back into the office before I wanted to murder either our customers or my higher ups. So very good😂

What's something that sometimes keeps you up at night? -my brain. I not only overthink everything I also have insomnia (thank you ptsd) and nightterrors. So my brain

What's your favorite genre of movies? - that's a tough one. I dont like rom-coms thought

What's your favorite genre of books? -Everthing fantasy. I am working on my discworld sleeve atm (with sandman homage sprinkled in)

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE FANFICTION TROPE!?!?!?! -probably either "AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES" or "oh noooo there is only one bed"

Who's your favorite superhero? - movie? Shang Chi -hands down. 10/10. Comics? Probably wanda. Or miles moralis.

What color combination do you like? -I am super basic. Black/red

What did you eat for today? - I didn't eat. I am ill and my stomach just can't held food down

Do you prefer coffee or tea? - tea always

What's your favorite holiday? - Spooky season. I dont like holidays much bc trauma. But I reclaimed spooky season

What's your favorite movie soundtrack? - twilight has some real banger. Black panther was other worldy. But you need to start listening to gaming soundtracks. I swear. It's It's game changer (see what I did there?)

Composer? -All things classic tbh. Right now I am listening to the four seasons BUT a very specific version of it. You find it on YouTube under "Gilles apap"

Actor? - Am I cliché when I say Oscar isaak and pedro pascal?

Actress? So many. Rachel Weisz is the first that comes to mind.

All time favorite movie???- I dont have one. I have a bunch I like to circle. I like Arthouse as much as I like blockbuster and so-bad-its-good- movies

Thank u😭

You and I had the same answer for more than half of these so we're basically best friends now. Sorry, I don't make the rules!!! As to insomnia, I really do hope it gets better soon because you need to rest. I'm now violently showering you with hugs and kisses through the world wide web so you better get them soon friend. I FREAKIN LOVE YOU DUDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[the-little-ewok]

I've never done a request before! Could you do tummy kisses with a plus size reader? I'm always down for nsfw but you decide where it goes! Please and thank you 😁

- @mandinlore

Every inch of you

Santiago Garcia X Plus size F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2300 (ish)

Warnings : Reader is plus size, Explicit, Oral (f- receiving), lack of body confidence, insecurities, love bites, one actual bite, quick fingering, soft Santi being soft. And I do mean soft. (Yea it's cliché. I have no regrets)

Prompt/Summary : Tummy kisses/ Santiago helps show you how perfect you are

A/N : Keep the prompts short, she says, ease yourself back into writing she says…. Hahahaha enjoy your 2k ;) I got carried away. @mandinlore

Also thank you for requesting plus size! As a curvy girl myself, I absolutely loved writing this!

Side note - if anyone (who has prompts outstanding or wants to send new requests) wants a specific reader (plus size, short girl, specific job etc) please don't feel shy about asking! I'll do my best to write it!

"Cariño, you gotta tell me what's wrong? We can take things slow if that's what you want. You already know you're in control here. But, is something else wrong?" Santi sighs, sitting back on the couch after you pushed him away, yet again, before things could go too far. You couldn't blame his reaction, not after you had been hot and cold for weeks now.

Everytime he had tried to take things further, into anything that involves you removing clothing, you had made excuses to stop. He'd always backed off without complaint, reassuring you that he'll wait until you're ready, but you know he's starting to suspect there's more that you're hiding. God damn over observant Santiago Garcia. His military training served him too well in that.

The truth was, it wasn't that you didn't want things to go too far. In fact, you wanted very much to have his body pressed up against yours, his mouth against your skin, his cock buried deep inside you.

But for that to happen he had to see your body. And that was what scared you the most.

"Hey." His voice, and his fingers gripping your chin, turning your face to force you to look at him, rips you from your thoughts.

Meeting his questioning gaze you're struck, and not for the first time, by how pretty he is. Especially now — hair tousled by your fingers, eyes bright with lust, lips kiss swollen, cheeks flushed.

It makes you want to drag him back down onto the couch and lose yourself in his kisses once more.

"Tell me where your head is at," he pleads, his gaze soft. "Whatever it is, we can talk about it.

"I don't want to take it slow," you whisper, swallowing hard, sliding your vision away from him, even as he holds your face. You focus your eyes on the coffee table, the empty glasses and half eaten snacks, the movie still playing quietly in the background. You had stopped watching some time ago when you caught him watching you more than the film.

"There's a but coming, right?" Santi prompts when you lapse into silence.

"It's just…"

It's just I don't want you to be disappointed.

It's just I don't look like your exes.

It's just I don't think you'll want me.

You trail off, struggling to find the words to explain your fears.

"It's just, what?" Santi presses, his tone still gentle as ever.

"Idontwantyoutoseeme," you mumble out quickly, flicking your eyes back to him for a split second before you look away again.

Santi lets out a sigh, although it's not one of impatience, or disappointment. It sounds more like he might be… relieved.

"That's what you're worried about? Jesus, you scared me." He gives a small chuckle, shaking his head as he takes your face in both his hands, which forces your gaze back to his. For a long moment, he studies you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"You are beautiful," he states simply before his hands drop to your waist and he shifts, leaning over you and guiding you back to lie down against the couch, once more taking up his position over you, nestling himself between your thighs.

"Have you noticed what you do to me?" He asks, hammering home his point by pressing the bulge in his pants up against your core, making you gasp, despite the anxiety coiled tight in your stomach.

"With my clothes on maybe," you mumble, unable to quiet the vicious thoughts still seeping through.

"I want to see you. I want to see all of you. You don't have to hide from me," he whispers against the shell of your ear, dipping his head to place a trail of kisses down your neck.

"I don't think you'll like what you see." Even as the fear builds you can't stop the moan that steals its way from your lips as he seals his lips against your neck, sucking a mark there.

"Can I be the judge of that?" He asks, leaning up on his arms to look at you. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Your response comes with no hesitation. You don't even have to think about it. You do, wholeheartedly, entirely, trust him. He's done more than enough to earn that trust from you.

"I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do, but please trust me when I say I will love every inch of you."

The sincerity in his voice makes tears prick your eyes.

You swallow hard, still arguing with the voice in the back of your mind that tells you you aren't good enough for him, that he won't want you.

Santiago waits patiently while you muddle through your thoughts.

After a long moment, what feels like a millennia of debating, you give him a nod, and watch his smile transform into one of absolute pride.

"If you're uncomfortable at any time, stop me, okay?" He requests, and you nod again, not trusting your voice not to waiver if you answered.

He captures your lips once more in a long, slow, passionate kiss. His tongue mapping out every corner of your mouth, sliding along yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, keeping you breathless.

This time when his hands begin to tug the hem of your shirt up, you don't stop him.

He unpeels each layer of your clothes carefully, waiting for you to relax before he moves on to the next, almost maddeningly slow in his actions. Still, you appreciate his patience.

When you're finally fully bared, what feels like an age later, he sits back, dropping your panties to the floor as his eyes roam the flesh laid out before him.

You feel sick, dizzy with anxiety, waiting for him to realise how bad you look, how much he doesn't want you, to make excuses for you to leave.

Santiago does none of those things.

Instead, he lets out a low groan.

"Shit, you are incredible."

You could almost think he was lying, just to make you feel better, but as you look up at him, his eyes hooded, pupils blown wide, licking his lips like you were a meal he's been waiting all day for, you could actually kid yourself into believing him.

You squirm under his unwavering gaze, your hands automatically going to cover your stomach, twisting away from him.

Santi`s eyebrows pull together in a deep frown, shaking his head.

"Don't do that. Don't ever do that again. Not with me," he scolds you softly as he pries your hands away from your body, pinning them down to the couch.

Leaning over you he captures your lips, his kisses tender and loving. His hands wander your body slowly, mapping each curve as he grinds himself against your core. Each slow roll of his hips pushes the zipper of his jeans up against your clit, drawing muffled moans from your lips. Each sound you make he swallows as though they were a vintage wine, something to be savoured.

"Want to make you feel good," he slurs, finally giving you a moment to breathe. "Can I make you feel good?"

Still unable to form words, you nod, probably a little too enthusiastically, causing Santi's eyes to crinkle as he grins.

"Yeah?" He confirms, moving his kisses down to your breasts, peppering them with soft brushes of his lips. "Baby gonna be good and let me kiss her all over?"

You can feel the slick wetness pooling between your legs, the heat blazing across your skin, the blood roaring in your ears, and the ever present anxiety nipping at your thoughts, a constant companion which never seems to quiet.

Well, that is until Santi bites your nipple, turning your yelp at the sharp pain, into a moan as he soothes it with his tongue.

After that, all your thoughts, good and bad, begin to get a little hazy.

"Mmmm I like that noise," he hums, lathering your other breast with the same attention, making you struggle to catch your breath with the pleasure he was already wringing from you.

As his kisses trail lower, his lips pressing against the plush of your stomach, you can't help but try to curl in on yourself, trying to hide as much as you can in the small space of the couch.

It's a pointless endeavour. Santi's mouth pays particular attention to every part you try to twist away, or subtly hide as you move your arms.

He spends an age trailing soft kisses all the way across your stomach, before working his way back to your naval, and then down, leaving tiny love bites in his wake. A trail marking you as his over all the places you hate, before he stops, head between your already trembling thighs, looking up at you.

When your eyes meet his, he grins before he dips his head, holding your gaze as he thrusts his tongue deep inside you.

Your head slams back against the arm of the couch, your eyes squeezing shut, the image of his face buried in your pussy blazing behind your eyelids. You choke back a moan as his tongue loops up around your clit, before back down to taste you again.

"Keep making noises like that and we're going to have a problem," he warns, warm breath fanning out across your already heated skin, making you squirm with the stimulation.

You have no idea what problem he's talking about, and as his tongue slides through your folds, up to circle your clit a second time, you really couldn't care less about it either.

Your back arches as you chase the warm pleasure of his mouth, a groan of his name falling from your lips. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts on your pussy like a starved man.

Curses and praises fall freely from your lips, accompanied by whimpers and moans as he expertly coaxes you closer and closer to the edge, all your anxieties silenced by the overwhelming pleasure that stops you from concentrating on anything else.

Santi groans, a noise that vibrates through your entire core, and pushes you dangerously close to the edge. When one of his hands disappears from your thigh, you can't help but open your eyes to glance down at him, your breath catching.

His eyes are closed, a look of pure bliss you haven't seen before on his face, as his tongue laps languidly at your slick cunt, while he palms his hard cock through his pants.

You throw your head back once more with a whine, unable to continue to watch him as he chooses that moment to seal his lips over your clit and suck, hard.

The vision of him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat of his mouth, is too much, and you come undone with a strangled cry, your body trembling, and your vision going white as the pleasure crests and crashes over you.

Even through the roaring noise of blood in your ears, and the way your orgasm makes your mind fuzzy, you still catch the tail end of Santiago's gasped curse, followed by a low, broken groan. You can't help but think it sounds suspiciously like….

You don't even get to fully finish the thought before your body shudders in desire. That couldn't be the case when you haven't even touched him.

Then again the look on his face before…

When you can finally feel your limbs again you lean up on your elbows to look down your body at him, as he, somewhat awkwardly, sits back on his heels, a wet patch blooming out on his pants.

"Santi…did you…?" You swallow, trailing off as he looks somewhat abashed.

"Um, yeah," he admits, an unmistakable blush forming on his cheeks.

"Because of….me?" You ask quietly, feeling a strange sense of pride that, even as you are, you were able to do that to him.

"Oh, enjoying this, are we?" Santi laughs teasingly, relaxing a little when he sees your wide eyed surprise and the smile you're trying to bite down.

Putting his arms either side of you, he cages you in, as he runs his nose up the length of your neck. Even the lightest of touches makes your body shiver with desire.

"Maybe…a bit," you admit, a little distractedly as he places a kiss below your ear, pressing his body against yours, clearly knowing exactly what he's doing to you.

"Good," he mumbles into your skin. "Although next time I cum I want to be buried inside you."

He whispers it so sinfully low in your ear, you swear you could cum again just from his words.

Your breath catches and you can feel Santiago's smug smile against your neck, where he's still busy pressing soft kisses.

"I'm a little bit disappointed though," you manage to swallow out, trying to ignore the way his hand is skimming across your sweat damp skin, down the outside of your thigh, before slowly working its way back up.

Santi pulls back to look at you so quickly, you're surprised he doesn't put his back out.

"Disappointed?"

You can't quite tell if it's outrage or concern, that laces his tone, but whichever it is, you can't stop the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, only making him frown more deeply.

"Cariño," he starts, stopping when you put a hand over his mouth to interrupt him.

"I'm disappointed I didn't get to see you."

It takes a moment for him to catch up, still clearly trying to work out what he has done wrong to disappoint you, but the moment it clicks his face transforms into a wolfish grin.

"Well, give me half an hour and I'll show you anything you want," he winks. "For now I guess I'll go back to admiring you." His eyes flicker once more down your body, surveying you like prey.

It makes your pussy clench.

"You really mean it don't you?" You whisper as he tilts his head in question. "You do like me the way I am?"

"I really mean it," he confirms seriously, "you are perfect."

He doesn't give you much time to think too hard about his confirmation, or really anything at all. Leaning back into you he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, clearly working on making you forget your own name.

You wrap one hand around the back of his neck, holding him to you as the other slips down his back to playfully squeeze his ass, drawing a low growl from the man above you.

Santiago is quick enough to get his revenge, slipping a hand between your bodies to brush his fingers against your clit.

You let out a gasp, and shudder with the over stimulation, as his fingers draw tight circles against your sensitive nub.

"You said half an hour," you practically whimper, unable to stop your hips canting up against his hand.

"For me. I didn't say you get a break." He smirks, slipping a finger into your wet heat, drawing another broken sound from you. "I want you to make those pretty sounds for me again… and again… and again."

-------------

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Special thank you to my patient, most lovely beta, who puts up with every smutty Santi thought that enters my brain @beldroxramscal

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[the-little-ewok]

“ yeah, you're in love with me. “ with Santi pretty please??? 🥺🥺🥺 also if you’d do one of your fluffy smut ones? But I’m gonna leave that up to you 💖

Shut up and kiss me Santiago "Pope" Garcia X F!Reader Rating : E / 18+ Wordcount : 7k Warnings: Mentions of casual sex/FWB, Language, Angst, Fluff, Smut, PIV, unprotected sex, Oral f- receiving, fingering, edging, lil bit of hair pulling, feral Santi comes with his own warning. (Idk if I should warn this but he does refer to the reader as a brat a few times…affectionately), generally pretty soft.   Summary: Santiago is your friend, your best friend. Your best friend that you are in love with. Which is exactly why you shouldn't be entertaining the idea of sleeping with him…

A/N: I am so sorry for how long it took me to write this!  Also it's way longer than intended. I am however not sorry about that.

Un-beta'd because chaos is life.

Gif banner made by the lovely Salome-C

*******

It had started as something of a joke, that you and Santiago hadn't been laid in months and maybe you should deal with that together. You'd both laughed it off but after a few drinks, somewhere along the line, the joke had turned into a discussion, which turned into a reality.

"I mean we could?" Santiago had shrugged, watching the boys from the booth in which you'd both hidden, neither of you particularly wanting to be associated with the dance off that seemed to be happening. 

"Yeah, I mean, it's just sex right? People do this all the time," you had nodded, sipping your drink in distraction and contemplating how much of a terrible idea it might be to have sex with the man you're hopelessly in love with, who is not hopelessly in love with you. 

"Absolutely! Just sex. No strings attached. Just friends taking care of friends, right?" He had confirmed seriously, his hand already dropping to your thigh, fingers cautiously caressing your leg. 

"Yeah, just friends taking care of friends," You'd breathed unsteadily as his fingers crept higher. 

After that it was a short goodbye to the boys and a longer drunken walk to his apartment. 

Which is exactly where you find yourself now, pressed against his front door, his mouth hot on yours, the taste of whisky on his tongue as he kisses you and fumbles opening the lock. 

You tumble through the door, laughing against his mouth as you trip and stumble, desperate hands pushing jackets off shoulders, uncaring where they fall. 

His tongue is hot and slick in your mouth, distractingly wiping away all questions and rational thoughts about the fact you should not be doing this. But any hesitation you might have had slipped away about three drinks ago, and the heat coursing through your veins has already burned out any thoughts of stopping.  

When he presses you against the wall, too impatient to make it to the couch, you can't help but moan into his mouth, feeling his arousal pressing into your thigh through his jeans. His lips move down across your neck, peppering kisses and bites to the sensitive flesh. 

You groan, tilting your head back to allow him better access. 

"Pope," you give a soft pleasured sigh, bringing a hand up to tangle in his hair and hold his mouth to your flesh. 

"Use my name, please," he rasps between kisses. 

"Santiago," you whisper softly. This isn't how it should be — It's too intimate, too close to your heart, but you can't stop it. His name tumbles from your lips so easily despite that it's so foreign on your tongue. Rarely used, a secret kept hidden away.

He groans, pressing himself hard against you as his lips capture yours in another messy kiss.

Dragging you away from the wall he walks you backwards to the couch, breaking your kiss only to let you throw yourself down on it, before his mouth is back on yours. He presses you backwards into the soft cushions, pinning you with his body as his hands push up your dress, fingers gliding over exposed flesh of your thighs. 

Questions and alarm bells suddenly trigger in your mind as his fingers creep across your hips. Are you really going to do this? It won't be enough. You know it won't be enough. Yet you're still here, pressed into the couch by his weight, your tongue lapping against his. 

It won't ever be enough, but it's all you can have.

"Santi," you whimper against his lips, pressing your hips up against his. He groans, grinding down against your clothed core, making your own moan gasp up through your throat. You meet his gaze as he lifts his head to watch you, his eyes dark and predatory, before something flickers behind them, as though he sees you suddenly, as though he had forgotten who you were. 

His whole body language changes in an instant, he stiffens, holding his body up away from yours, his jaw clenched, eyes shining with a sudden fear. 

"Santi? You ok?"

"I..I… I'm sorry I can't do this," he mumbles, shaking his head as he climbs off you. It takes a few seconds for you to process his words and you stare at him blankly for a moment as he sits at the edge of the couch, dropping his head into his hands. Shuffling to sit up you reach for him, confused hurt piercing your chest when he pulls away from the brush of your fingers against his shoulder. 

"Hey, talk to me. What just happened?" You hate the fact your voice sounds so lost, so small, so scared. You don't understand his sudden change. You don't understand what you've done and your desperate for him to explain. 

"I just— fuck." He gets to his feet, running a hand through his greying curls as he turns away from you, pacing across the room. 

"Did I do something?"

"No. No. I'm sorry, I just can't do this. Not with you," he sighs and then slams his hands on the wall with a growl. 

"Oh. Okay." 

He must hear the hurt in your voice because he lets out a sigh and shakes his head, barely giving a glance in your direction, as though he can't even look at you anymore. 

"I didn't mean...I mean… it's not you. You're beautiful, you're perfect. You're just you. And I'm me, and I just...can't."

You'd dreamt once or twice of him saying words so similar to you. Whispering against your skin how perfect he thinks you are, how beautiful. But never like this, never with confusion and heartache. 

"Yeah, I get it," you nod, swallowing hard and still trying to make sense of his jumbled broken explanations combined with the fact he still won't even look at you. That hurts worse than any of his words. 

"It's never...it's just…" he starts and trails off before he shakes his head. "I can't do this with you," He repeats quietly, his back to you, running his hands down his face as you try and process what he's saying. "Do you want me to walk you home?"

Pain splinters up through your chest, a deep wound to your heart. He was asking you to leave, after all this. 

Getting to your feet you straighten your clothes and brush a shaking hand through your hair, "I'll walk myself, it's ok."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you back here. This was a terrible idea. You're my friend." He finally turns to face you, his expression hard to place. He looks sad, disappointed, lost. You want to reach for him and pull him into your arms, to help him through whatever has suddenly happened, but he feels so far away now that you can't make the move. Suddenly an ocean has appeared between you, and neither of you seem sure of how to cross it. 

"I'm so sorry for this," he mumbles again softly. 

You shake your head and give him what you hope comes off as a reassuring smile, desperate to rescue whatever tatters of your friendship are left.  

"No, it's not your fault. We're friends and we shouldn't be putting that at risk just to get off. I get it and it's totally fine," you shrug with a wave of your hand, swallowing down the crushing disappointment. "We are way too drunk to make rational decisions right?"

You aren't drunk, not really, not anymore. You'd sobered up pretty quickly, and you know Santiago well enough to know the alcohol in his system isn't to blame either. At some point you both wanted this, just because you wanted each other. But the regret in his eyes sears straight through you. Whatever was there between you, he'd burned to ashes now. 

"Let me at least call a cab. You can't walk back alone."

You shake your head at his offer, "It's a few blocks. I'll text you soon as I'm back."

He opens his mouth to protest but you beat him to it, quickly gathering up your things. 

"I'll be fine I promise." You kiss his cheek, more out of habit and a desperate need to go back to normal, before you rush out of the door, ensuring he has no chance to stop you. 

You get as far as the next block before the rejection fully hits you and tears burn your eyes. You knew there was no chance for certain now. 

I can't do this with you. 

~

Are you still awake? - Message sent

No reply. Your last message had been answered with a simple ok. A stark difference to the usual slew of emojis and hearts he would send you. 

But it's been hours since you left. Hours since he'd broken your heart without even knowing he was doing it. Hours for you to calm down, to rationalise, to hope you could move on and forget about this, to hope you could both chalk it up to too many drinks, a momentary lapse of judgement. 

Of course though it would still hurt — a keen sharp pain that's edges you wished you could dull. And perhaps over time you would. Perhaps the pain would eventually disappear and make way for brighter things. Perhaps. 

You wonder if he knew, or at least guessed. Perhaps he'd seen it in your face, or tasted it in your kisses — the desperate need for more than he was offering. It was for the best, you'd reasoned with yourself. One night would never have been enough. Maybe this was the kindest way of ending before it began. 

Sorry for earlier. We can just forget about it. It was a stupid decision. Never drinking again right? - Message sent

Still no response. Your messages stay unread. 

Are we ok? - Message sent. 

Okay, that was needy and you instantly regret sending it. Maybe you could just delete all of the messages before he even read them. At least then you could pretend it was nothing. You could pretend it didn't hurt at all. You could pretend you were just friends. 

But even as your fingers hover over the keys again, the screen lights up with a photograph of the two of you, Santiago’s name on the caller ID as the phone vibrates impatiently in your hand. 

Fuck.

You consider not answering but your thumb is automatically swiping the answer button before you even have a chance to stop it. 

"Hey, San-Pope," you correct yourself quickly.

"Open the door." He pants down the phone. 

"Why? Wait, what are you doing? Why’s it sound like — nope I'm not even gonna say it." You stop yourself before you can let that image get too far into your mind. The last thing you need is to think about that.

"Just come open the door, it's fucking freezing out here," he complains in a breathless tone. What follows is a loud banging on your door that makes you yelp in surprise. 

Dropping the phone onto the coffee table you bolt out into the hallway and wrench open the door, fear twisting sharp in your veins about what must be wrong.

Santiago's cheeks are flushed and he’s breathing heavily, sweat damp in his curls despite the sharp winter air. You manage to take a quick recon of him, making sure he's still in one piece before he suddenly grabs you, pulling you into his arms and pressing his lips against yours. 

It's so unexpected, and your mind is still catching up, that you can't even consider kissing him back. 

"W-what are you doing?" You stutter out as he pulls away, frowning at your lack of response. 

"Explaining I'm hopelessly in love with you. I couldn't have sex with you because I'd never let you go if I did. Honestly I thought it would be romantic to come tell you this now but fuck, i forgot how far it is to your house. I shouldn't have run. My knees are killing me." He babbles out quickly, leaning down with his hands on his knees, catching his breath while you stand frozen in the doorway. "Why didn't you let me let you walk home?"

You stare at him blankly for a long moment, trying to ignore the burning desire re-igniting itself in your belly at the mere memory of the way his hands had slid down your thighs, his tongue hot in your mouth. No, you're not going to think about that. Not even a little bit. 

"Are you - are you fucking serious right now?"

"Do I look like I'm joking? I just ran all the way to your house to kiss you again. I swear this is the last time I do anything romantic if this is your reaction," he complains, standing up to stretch out his back. No matter how confused, how surprised, how angry you are, you still can't help but catch the way his shirt lifts just slightly with his moment, exposing the tiny patch of skin above his pants. 

When he drops his hand and gives you an expectant look, you can't help but laugh from the shock. The noise tears itself from your throat before you have a chance to stop it, earning you a glare from the man as you clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. 

Santiago's frown deepens and you see the flicker of worry in his eyes. 

"I can't tell if this is a good reaction?" 

"I-I'm a bit surprised," you stammer, getting a hold on yourself. "You turned me down a couple of hours ago, and now you're all about romantic gestures and running to my house telling me you're in love with me?" It has more of a bite of anger behind it than you really mean it too, the hurt still too sharp in your chest. 

"I know. I'm sorry," he sighs quietly, dropping his eyes from yours and looking everywhere but at you as he tries to find the words to explain his actions. It makes your heart physically ache for him. You've rarely seen him look so lost. Not since his sudden reappearance in your life. Not since they lost Tom. 

"I thought I could just have you for one night and that would be enough. But I realised it would never be enough. I just… panicked and I thought I could fix it. I thought this…this would fix it." 

There's a thousand things you want to ask, a thousand more you want to confess, but the words never come and the silence stretches out uncomfortably.

Santiago is the first to break it, his voice unsure. 

"This was a stupid idea. I'll just go and we can pretend I was still drunk, ok?" 

"I don't want you to go." The words escape, much like your earlier laughter, before you have a chance to stop them. They hang suspended in the air between you for a long moment, both of you lapsing back into a silence you still can't seem to fill.

"I just wanted you to know my feelings. I wanted to tell you for months. You're the first girl that knows everything about me and hasn't run a mile. Every time I had the chance to tell you how I felt I just…couldn't. And then tonight I just thought… fuck, I don't know what I was thinking. But I've always -"

"Stop. Stop. Just stop talking," you interrupt before you sigh, your tone softening as you take everything in. He'd pulled away from you out of fear of his own desires, because he cared for you too. Because he did want you, and he didn't know you wanted him. The urge to laugh at the entire situation bubbles up again but this time you bite it down. 

Explaining I'm hopelessly in love with you. 

You barely have time to catch up with his confessions and your own thoughts before he starts rambling again. 

"I can go and we can talk about this tomorrow. Or not at all. I don't want to make things akw-"

"Will you just shut up and kiss me?" You cut him off sharply, finally meeting his worried gaze. It isn't eloquent, it isn't a sweet romantic gesture, or any bold declaration of love, but you hope it's enough for now. Enough to explain your feelings.

It takes him a second, a pause in his movements, waiting for you to take back your comment, and when you don't he steps up close to you. Wrapping one arm around your waist, holding you tightly against him, the other hand comes up to tangle in your hair, his thumb resting against your jaw as he leans in and presses his lips to yours.  

The kiss is so much different to the giggling sloppy kisses you had shared earlier in the night as you stumbled into his apartment, or the rushed desperate kiss he had given you when you opened the door. This kiss is gentle, slow, and passionate, though no less insistent. 

When his tongue licks into your mouth, you swear the fire that courses through your veins should burn you. The arm around your waist tightens as you press your body against his, tangling your hands in his curls as he familiarises himself with every inch of your mouth.  

Neither of you pull away until the beep of a passing car pulls you back into reality. 

Giggling you keep yourself pressed close against his chest, the heat from his body making you forget about the cold winter air surrounding you as you stand in the open doorway.

His hands slide down your back, cupping your ass to pull you impossibly closer to him as he steals another lingering kiss, one laced with suggestion. 

"I know it's late, and maybe you've changed your mind about what you want tonight, so I don't have to, but can I come in for a while?"

You nod mutely, still too distracted by the tingling in your kiss swollen lips and the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

~

The lock is barely clicked into place before his hands are on your waist, spinning you to face him, pressing you back against the door and pinning you there with his body. 

He holds your chin in a gentle grip as his lips find yours again, his other hand dropping down to smooth across your waist. 

"I haven't been able to get you off my mind. Not for months." he sighs, placing a row of soft kisses across your jaw. 

"Wish you'd told me before tonight," you manage to mumble in response, distracted by the movement of his lips down your neck, his teeth nipping at your pulse point. 

He lets out a soft laugh of "me too" against your skin as the fingers which had been gripping your hip slowly start to slide up towards your ribs, capturing the edge of your t-shirt on their way, exposing your skin to his still chilled hand. 

You gasp as cold fingertips sweep across your ribs, cooling your burning skin. 

"I told you it was cold out," he grins, lifting his head and pausing to kiss your lips softly before he switches sides, his mouth going back to exploring your neck. 

When he finds a particular spot that makes you give a breathy moan you can feel him smirk against your skin, making a mental note of it. 

You know what he's doing — he's surveying you, completing perimeter checks, mapping out every weak point so he can take you apart piece by piece.  

His other hand joins the wandering against your skin, drawing another hiss from you at the cold intrusion. 

You open your mouth to complain but an incessant high pitched beeping interrupts you. It takes longer than it should for your desire-addled mind to realise what the noise is. 

"Is that an alarm clock?" Santi frowns at you, looking around for the source of the noise. 

"Timer. Cookies." You duck out of his arms, straightening your shirt as you run through to the kitchen, switching off the beeping timer before you open the oven to save the cookies. 

"Are you seriously baking? It's like 2am?" Santiago laughs from behind you as he follows you into the kitchen.

"You seriously running over to a girls house at 2am to declare your undying love?" You defend yourself, turning the oven off and putting the cookies onto a cooling rack. "Baking helps me think."

Putting everything else into the sink you turn around in time to catch his yelp of pain as he picks up a cookie, immediately dropping it again when it burns his fingers. 

"You literally just watched me get those out of the oven. How the hell did you ever stay alive?" You sigh, rolling your eyes and watching him shake his hand with a frown. "Let me see."

When he places his injured hand in yours you look it over carefully, seeing that no actual damage has been done before you give him a mischievous grin.

"I think you'll survive but just in case I'll kiss it better." You softly press your lips to his fingers, keeping your eyes on his face. Your action brings the quirk of a smile to the corner of his mouth, which is quickly replaced by a wide eyed look of surprise when you wrap your lips around his fingers, drawing them into your mouth. 

You can't help but be proud of the way his mouth falls open, or the shaky exhale of breath he gives as you swirl your tongue around his digits, gifting him a soft moan before you withdraw, intentionally slowly.

"Better?" You raise an eyebrow with a grin, pleased at the power you have over him when it takes him a moment to react. But react, he does. When he moves he's on you before you have time to blink, his hands gripping your waist, pulling your hips hard against him as his lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue hot in your mouth.

When he finally pulls away, after your breathless and practically panting with need, he continues to hold you close, dipping his head to whisper sinfully in your ear. 

"I've imagined fucking you in every room of this house, shall I let you pick where to start?" 

Hard, pure desire surges upwards through you and you let out a soft moan of need, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the building ache between them as your pussy clenches.  

Santiago lets you go, taking half a step back to look you over — heavily breathing and practically shaking with arousal from his words and kisses alone. You see the flicker of pride across his face at what he's done to you already with so very little. But you aren't going to let him win so easily. The battle for power is only just beginning. 

Biting your lip you take another step back from him, taking a breath to gather yourself before you give him a smirk. He raises an eyebrow in question as you take another step, then another, slowly backing up until your ass is pressed against the edge of the kitchen table. 

You pause, reaching down to grip the edges of your shirt before you pull it up and over your head, tossing it out of the way before you shimmy out of your bottoms and kicking them to join your shirt. He makes no move towards you but his eyes take their time roaming your exposed skin all the way to your toes before coming back to meet yours. 

Your bra is the next to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor, and you don't miss the way his tongue darts out to lick at his lips as he eyes the newly exposed flesh. 

"Going to stand there and let me take care of myself?" You tease, watching his eyes narrow. "Or are you just still tired out from your run, old man?"

That earns you a low growl that shoots straight to your core as he strides over to you, hands slamming down on either side of you, pinning you against the table. 

"You're gonna apologise for that comment," He warns in a low tone, dropping his forehead to rest against yours. 

"Oh will I now?" You grin, teasingly licking his lips. 

His reaction is instantaneous, lips crashing into yours, one hand leaving the table to tangle in your hair. 

When you nip his bottom lip with your teeth he lets out a low growl, and using the hand in your hair he tugs, gentle enough not to hurt you, but firm enough to tilt your head back, exposing the column of your neck to his kisses.

"You're such a brat," he complains against your skin, nipping your pulse point with his teeth. There's something in the tone of his voice that makes your pussy clench around nothing. 

His lips work their way back up your neck, across your jaw to capture your lips again, his tongue licking into your mouth, hot and slick. He lets go of your hair to allow his hand to wander down across your chest, taking your peaked nipple in his fingers and rolling it slowly as you gasp.  

Your own hands tug at his shirt, needing the barrier between you gone, but Santiago pushes your hands away, breaking your kiss. 

"No, we are going to deal with the apology you owe me first." The way he speaks sounds like both a promise and a threat, making goosebumps break out across your skin and your breath hitch in anticipation. 

He keeps you pinned to the table with his body, only moving back just enough to allow his hand to slide between you, brushing his fingers over the cloth still covering your core, and you hear him give a soft groan as his fingers meet the wetness already soaking through the thin material. 

"Baby," he groans, pressing his fingers against your clit through the fabric, causing you to let out a shaky breath, a quiet moan catching in the back of your throat as his lips move across your jaw, placing gentle kisses in a row down your neck. 

"Oh, we can do better than that," he whispers, as tugs the material to the side, allowing his fingers to drag through your wet folds. "Hmm so wet for me. I could slide straight into you right now."

To hammer home his point he presses two fingers deep into you, and this time you don't hold back the loud moan that tears from your throat. 

"That's better," he smirks, removing his fingers to drag them up, circling your clit, spreading your slick. "Don't hold back, I want the neighbours to hear you."

You hiss out a curse, your hands flying to hold his arms as your hips buck against him, desperately chasing the friction you've been craving since he first kissed you so many hours ago.

He teases you in the best possible way, alternating between pressing his fingers into you, curling them slowly against your walls, and drawing them out to glide across your clit. It takes no time at all for you to feel the beginning of your climax swelling in your belly.  

But then he stops suddenly, making you frown. You open your mouth to ask, to protest about why he stopped, but your words get stuck when he holds his fingers up to his mouth, licking each clean with a satisfied hum. 

"I need to taste more of that,"

You want to make a coherent reply. You want to be cocky and cute and take back the power, but the predatory look in his eyes quells your tongue, and you find all you can do is watch. 

He kneels down slowly, pressing kisses down between your breasts, across your stomach and down to the edge of your panties. He playfully licks a line following your waistband making you wriggle with ticklishness. 

Santi lets out a soft laugh against your skin as his hands ghost up your thighs. Biting the edge of your panties he tugs downward, which does nothing. His second try budges them no further and only makes you giggle.

"Stop laughing," He grumbles but you can see the smile hiding at the corner of his lips. "This was supposed to be hot"

"Let me help a little bit," you giggle, hooking your thumbs into the material and pushing them down over your hips.

Taking the edge of your panties back in his teeth he tugs a few more times, eventually managing to get them far enough loose that they slide down your legs. For all the trouble it's caused him it is worth it, and you can't help but bite your lip at the sight of him at your feet, your underwear in his teeth. 

As he kneels in front of you, his pupils blown wide, watching your every reaction, you realise while he holds a power over you, you hold just as much over him. This game of trading places, trading power, neither of you were going to win, because one would always give way to the other. You need him just as much as he needs you. 

He lifts one of your legs, then the other, removing the offending material of your panties. He pushes your legs apart as you lean against the table, your fingers digging into the wood with anticipation. 

His breath is hot against your skin as he runs his nose up your thigh, before placing soft kisses against your skin. 

"You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbles softly, more to himself than to you. It's a strangely soft sentiment given the way he's been so far, and more than any of his other words, his soft statement makes you tremble the most. "And so fucking delicious."

He licks a hot flat stripe the full length of you before swirling his tongue around your clit, drawing a high pitched moan from you, your hips bucking against his face. 

He gives a pleased hum at your reaction which vibrates through your core, before he devours you. He alternates between slow laps of his tongue against your clit, to pressing the hot muscle deep inside your core, tasting as much of you as he can. 

Your fingers wrap in his short curls, dragging your nails lightly against his scalp as you hold him to you, high pitched needy moans freely escaping from your throat as his tongue brings you steadily closer to the edge. 

You feel the familiar tendrils of heat snaking up through your belly, your legs trembling as he pushes you ever closer to the edge, the blissful edges of a climax just out of reach. 

Your hips arch, chasing his mouth as he pulls back, a broken whimper tearing from your throat. 

"Fuck, don't stop," you whimper as his lips move to your thighs, placing soft kisses there as though you arn't trembling in need. He takes your hands in his and gently presses them to the table, a silent command for you to keep them to yourself now. 

"Hmm are you going to apologise for what you said?" He presses a soft kiss to your thigh as he looks up at you, waiting for your answer. You're momentarily confused before you remember your comment about him being an old man. If he's expecting you to apologise he has another thing coming. You blink at him, tight lipped and stubborn. 

Santiago gives you a shrug, a mutter of "brat" and then goes straight back to lapping at your sensitive folds.

He brings you to the edge twice more, each time pulling away from you just before your climax hits, asking if you're ready to apologise as he goes back to peppering soft kisses against your thighs while you tremble. 

Every time you ignore his question, determined that eventually he'll give in. But he's more stubborn than that and by the fourth time he pulls away, you're ready to tell him anything he wants to hear if only he'll let you cum.

"Fuck I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whimper, legs trembling, your nails digging into the edge of the table. He raises an eyebrow at your apology, the glimmer of a smirk on his lips, before dipping his head back to your heated core, dragging his tongue achingly slowly across your clit. "I'm s-sorry. Please don't stop. Please, please."

Just a few more moments and you'd be over the edge. You'd apologised. He had to give in this time. He had to let you cum now. He had to. 

You almost sob when he pulls away from you, the whimper of his name on your lips in a shaky plea.

"Santi," 

"I know, baby," he soothes softly, getting to his feet, "I know you wanna cum, but the first time I make you cum it's going to be on my cock."

Fuck. You're almost lost at his words alone, another needy whimper tearing itself from your throat. You almost don't mind that he stopped your climax yet again. Almost. 

"Up," he breathes, tapping the edge of the table, a gentle command. You jump onto the kitchen table, sitting with your legs dangling over the edge. 

"Off." You give your own demand, tugging at his shirt as he slots himself between your still trembling thighs. He allows you to this time, helping you pull it off before unbuttoning his pants, shoving them down, exposing his weeping cock. 

"Of course you go commando," you giggle breathlessly, rolling your eyes as he grins at you. Really you shouldn't be surprised, it's exactly the sort of thing you should have expected. Your mind can't help but slip into memories of every time you've playfully sat on his lap. 

"Easy access, baby," he shrugs. Wrapping his hands around your thighs he gives a sharp tug, dragging you to the edge of the table, and out of your thoughts. Your giggles cut off abruptly at the feel of his hard cock against your folds, coating him in your slick. 

He holds your waist in a gentle grip as his lips ghost across yours, his eyes flicking across your body, drinking in the sight of your naked bodies pressed together. 

"Please," you whisper softly, winding your arms around his neck, desperate need still sparking through your veins, "Don't make me wait any longer."

He captures your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue, swallowing down your moan as he presses himself inside you devastatingly slowly, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein as you adjust to the stretch. 

You're expecting him to go to town, to rail you into the table until stars to explode across your vision. You don't expect him to still, drawing your body close against his chest, dropping his head to capture your lips, teasing them open to dip his tongue into your mouth.  

His hands explore your flesh, ghosting gently along your back, caressing the curve of your hip, fingers tiptoeing down your thighs as he kisses you, slowly, as though he isn't buried deep inside you, as though he has all the time in the world to savour this moment. As though he hasn't brought you to the edge only to drag you back, a maddening number of times. 

"Santi," you whimper in a plea against his mouth, your walls pulsing around him as he holds still. 

Pulling back he takes your lower lip in his teeth and tugs gently, a rogue smile blooming across his face when you let out another soft moan.

"I"ve always loved the way you say my name. I can't wait to hear how you scream it."

He uses that exact moment, as your eyes go wide at his words to pull almost all the way out of you before thrusting deep, punching the air from your lungs. 

It's blissful and euphoric. It's better than anything you could have imagined. Each thrust sends sparks scattering across your vision, pulling gasps and moans from you, each louder than the last. It takes him no time at all to drag you back to the edge, to hold you over the precipice of oblivion once more. 

Your nails dig into his back as you bury your face in his neck, kissing and biting his shoulder as you tremble, heat blooming out across your body, desperate to feel more of him, to taste more of him, to chase the impending high that he's kept from you. 

"You're close aren't you?" He groans, another deep thrust tearing a cry from your lips, "I can feel it."

"Yes," you whimper, wrapping your legs more firmly around his waist, trying to draw him deeper into you. 

Wrapping his fingers around your leg beneath your knee he tugs your leg upwards sharply, high above his hip, causing his next thrust to hit the spot within you that makes you wail in pleasure. 

"Fuck, right there," you whine, clinging onto him. He groans, his own stuttered curses mumbled against your neck as he pulls your body closer, barely leaving your wet heat with each deep thrust, rutting against you, desperate to be as close to you as possible. 

It's almost too much. The pressure and tension threading through your limbs makes you tremble with need. Practically sobbing, delirious with pleasure you drop your head to his shoulder, nails digging into his back as the tension builds and coils inside you.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice rough with lust.

You lift your head to meet his eyes, dark with lust, intense, soft and hard. It's the same look he gave you earlier, only this time he doesn't pull away, he drags you impossibly closer to him. Somewhere in your pleasure clouded mind, you register the noise of the neighbours banging on the wall and you let out a shaky laugh, Santiago's face breaking into a grin. But then he shifts just slightly, dragging your leg a little higher, thrusting a little harder, his hand slipping between your bodies to press against your clit, and the tension that had been building inside you snaps. The release washes over you in trembling waves as you hurtle over the edge into oblivion, a scream of his name tearing from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut, unable to keep his gaze as you fall apart around him. 

"Fuck. Fuck, baby. That's it, let me hear it." His arm tightens around your back, holding you up against his chest as your body convulses and trembles, his fingers still working against your clit as incoherent words and moans tear themselves from your throat, riding the high for as long as you can. 

He groans at the feel of your cunt pulsing and squeezing around him, his thrusts falling out of rhythm, working to his own climax. 

"Santi, Santi," you whimper his name over and over, your whole body trembling with the overstimulation. His muscles flex under your fingers as his hips stutter, plunging him deep into you with a low groan of your name muffled against your neck as he cums. 

There's a long suspended moment where neither of you move, where you still feel the tremors of your climaxes, where nothing else exists in the world. It seems to drag on forever, and yet all too quickly Santiago is letting down your leg slowly, running his palm up your thigh and around your waist, holding you to him as his forehead drops to yours. You allow your eyes to flutter closed, still trying to catch your breath. 

"You ok, baby?" He whispers softly, allowing his hands to roam across your damp skin, brushing across your back and hips, coming up to gently brush his thumb against your jaw. You manage to hum in assurance, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. 

"Yeah," you whisper softly, as your fingers soothingly trace the scar at the base of his neck. "San, do you want to stay here tonight?"

"I'll stay until you kick me out," he promises, brushing his lips against yours, his hands continuing to explore your skin, as though memorising how it feels to touch you. He captures your lips sweetly in gentle kisses, over and over, as though he can't taste enough of you. 

"So, does this mean you're in love with me?" He finally whispers softly against your mouth. The question is quiet and soft, so different from his lustful growls that had filled your ears only moments earlier. There is such a hopeful edge to his tone that it makes your heart soften, any hurt that may have been caused by earlier events evaporated. 

Opening your eyes you regard him for a moment — His flushed cheeks, sweat beading on his brow, his eyes hopeful yet concerned. 

Even in the softest of moments you can't help but tease him, just a little. 

"Santiago, I like you a lot. But," you sigh, raising your hand to cup his cheek gently as he frowns, "I once saw you eat pineapple on your pizza and I could never love someone who -" 

"Ok, enough. Mala. You're such a brat," he complains, cutting you off. But he can't keep the grin from his face, relief bright in his eyes.

Giggling you frame his face with your hands, softly brushing your thumbs against his stubble as you bring your lips to his in a slow kiss. You pour your feelings into it, allowing him to see your heart without speaking. 

"Yeah, you're in love with me," He breathes with a relieved smile as you pull apart. 

"Yes," you admit with a soft smile, watching his face light up, "I'm in love with you. Now will you -"

"Shut up and kiss you?" He cuts in with a smug grin and a raise of his eyebrow. 

"Actually I was going to ask if you'd shut up and bring me a cookie. I'm gonna need the sugar before we pick another room," you pause to give him a teasing smile, knowing exactly how to get what you want now, "well, that's if your knees can handle it." 

Santi's knees survive the next round, but your bed is less fortunate. 

****

Taglist reblog to follow. If you liked this please take the time to comment and reblog :)

[the-little-ewok]

things you said when you were scared + Santiago 💖

(that's it I'm limiting myself to just two)

The Wheel Santiago Garcia X G!N reader Rating : T Wordcount : 2400 (ish) Warnings : fluff, heights, language Summary: Santiago wants to go on the big wheel. There's just one problem he doesn't know about… you're scared of heights. Prompt: Things you said when you were scared

A/N - ok so not the most original idea I know… but who doesn't want Santiago to look after them when they are afraid? Thank you for the prompt. I very much enjoyed writing it :)

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"Holy shit look at the size of the Ferris wheel! We have to go on that!" Santiago grins, illuminated by the flashing lights. It's almost blindingly bright as you follow the spider web of metal up to the heavens, your heartbeat jumping as your gaze moves higher. A nervous energy begins to curl in your belly.

“I don't know, Pope. I don't think those things are safe.”

“You scared?” He teases. And as scared as you are, your heart does a much more devastating jump at the way his eyes crinkle in the corners, and the soft way his lips curve up in a grin. It takes you a moment, just a second longer than it should, before you can choke out an answer to him.

"No. Are you? Is that why you want me there? Do you need someone to look after you? Lil Santiago is scared?" You're glad when your teasing comes out more confident than you expected, trying desperately to cover your own fear.

Laughing, he takes your hand in his, pulling you to the line to embark on the ride.

"Sure. That's exactly why! Normally Frankie takes care of me, but since they decided not to turn up, I guess you have to hold my hand instead," he grins, all but bouncing in excitement as he squeezes your hand. His hand wrapped around yours, is the only reason you don’t run, despite the fact your heartbeat is already galloping in your chest at the mere thought of being so high in the air.

Silently you curse the boys once again for dropping out. They'd all seemed to decide to text with apologies the moment you were on the way, already too late to rearrange the whole trip. Only Santiago hadn't let you down. And while you were grateful for that, you couldn't help but wish it had been anyone but him that you had to spend time with.

It wasn't that you didn't like him. Oh no, far from that. You liked him too much. And it was getting harder and harder to hide that fact. At least with the others around, it was easier to cover your stuttered words when he fixed you with his penetrating gaze. Easy to make a joke to break the tension when he caught you staring at him. Easy to hide behind the usual banter and laughter that came with your friends. When you were alone together, it was so much harder to hide your feelings. Feelings you couldn't act on because you were friends. And you liked being friends.

Santiago was one of those friends that walked into your life, sat themselves on your sofa, ate your food, changed what you were watching on tv and never seemed to leave. Fiercely loyal and protective, sweet and funny. He never pushed topics you didn't want to talk about, or judged your choices. He had a steady patience, and for all his time in the military, he could be one of the gentlest people you knew.

And he'd never shown a slight bit of interest in being anything more than that.

"I bet the view is pretty up there" Santiago's voice breaks through your thoughts, bringing them back to the problem at hand: the ferris heel.

“Yeah, probably.” You mumble back, knowing the last thing you want is to see anything from that height. He pauses for a second, turning to look at you.

“Are you ok? You look pale,” there’s genuine concern threaded through his voice as he watches you. Forcing a smile, you try to sound as confident as you can.

“It's just the lights here, I think. Why wouldn’t I be ok?”

Santiago opens his mouth to say more, but before he has a chance, they call you up to get on the ride.

Grinning, he pulls you up the steps and helps you into the tiny cart, which even at the bottom seems to sway unsteadily. Your fingers wrap around the cold metal bar as he slides in next to you, the lock clicking into place behind him, imprisoning you.

Taking a breath, you steady yourself. You could get through one ride. It wouldn't be so bad if you just kept your eyes forward.

Everything is going to be fine.

~

"How high up do you think we are? Looks far down." Your stomach lurches, and so does the cart as Santiago leans over the side to get a better look down. The wheel is almost at the top, and it's become harder and harder to maintain a semblance of calm. The forced smile you had managed to keep up finally slips out of place at his recklessness.

"Stop it!" You yell out, managing to pull one shaking hand off the bar to grab the back of his jacket, terrified in equal parts of him falling, or the cart tipping enough for you to fall too.

"Stop what?"

"Moving!” You manage to grit through clenched teeth, trying hard to control the wild banging of your heart against your ribs.

Laughing, he sits back, causing the cart to rock again and your hand flies back to the bar, fingers tightening to the point of pain as your heart continues its drumming against your chest. The rocking as he moves causes a whimper to escape your lips, and you feel Santiago shift to look at you. If you weren't so terrified you imagine your face would be ablaze with the heat of embarrassment, but nothing else can penetrate the terror. All you can focus on is keeping your eyes in a straight line, looking just over the top of the trees.

"Hey, are you ok?” You wish you could look at him, assure him you're perfectly fine, but you're frozen in place as the wheel moves again, creeping higher as it drags your panic ever higher with it.

"No. No, I'm not. I don't like this, ok!” It comes across snappier than you mean it to but your mind is elsewhere, trying desperately not to cry. You can feel Santiago looking at you expectantly. Stealing a quick glance at him, you can see his eyebrows pulled together in a frown, genuine worry in his eyes, “I'm scared of heights alright? Don't make a thing of it!"

"It's a bit late to tell me that now! Why didn’t you say something before?” He sighs, though his tone is not unkind.

“I just… just… you said...," That's the best you manage to get out as you make the mistake of glancing downwards. Letting out a cry of fear you squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your fingers tighter around the bar.

"It’s ok. We are almost at the top, and then it's just down from there. Nothing bad is going to happen," No matter how soft his reassurance is, you can feel the fear and anger flooding through you. It's his stupid fault you’re up here. If you die it's absolutely that moron's fault. And you desperately don't want to die like this.

"Come on, it's going to be ok."

"No, it's not o-fucking-kay. It's not. I hate you! I hate you for making me come on this!" You snarl, trying to keep your voice steady as your body trembles.

"Look, I'm pretty sure you're statistically more likely to die on the ground. Although there was that one movie-"

"Not helping!" You growl through gritted teeth, cutting him off as you try to take calming breaths.

The cart wobbles slightly again as he slides closer to you, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you close against him. You know he can feel the way you are shaking, your teeth almost chattering with the force of it, as you try to keep the tears from falling, determined not to embarrass yourself more than you already have.

"Fucking hell, I'm sorry. If I knew you were so scared I wouldn't have asked you to come up here."

He sighs as he leans his head on yours, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You can’t help but turn and bury your head in his neck, letting go of the bar in order to wrap your shaking fingers so tightly into his jacket that you fear the material may give way under your grip. Santiago doesn't seem to mind a bit and squeezes you tightly in his arms.

“You’re supposed to be holding my hand to keep me safe,” he reminds you softly, trying to lighten your mood. “I promise it's not so bad if you open your eyes. It's a nice view.”

You shake your head vehemently, squeezing your eyes shut tighter as the wheel moves again causing you to let out a pathetic cry, the feeling almost worse with your eyes closed.

"It's ok. It's ok…" You can hear Santiago trying desperately to reassure you, but the blood roaring in your ears is louder than anything and his words do nothing to help. You hear him let out a sigh, "Fuck it… don't kill me for this!"

You feel another shift of his weight before his fingers find your jaw, tilting your head up from where you had hidden yourself in his jacket. If his lips hadn't crashed into yours at that moment, you might have wondered what he meant, but it takes you by such shock it throws everything else out of your mind.

He was kissing you.

His lips are warm and soft against yours, one arm tight around your waist as the other grips your jaw. When you don't respond he starts to pull away, but with your fingers still wrapped in his jacket you pull him back to you, pressing your lips against his.

You can feel the briefest smile on his lips as you kiss him, allowing yourself to relax just a little in his arms. The tension drops from your shoulders as his lips tease yours open, allowing him to slide his tongue between your teeth, deepening the kiss.

That's when you get completely lost in him. The feel of his hand pulling you closer, his tongue hot and slick in your mouth, the scent of him surrounding you. For a moment you forget where you are, you forget the fear, forget that you aren't supposed to be kissing your friend.

That is until the cart gives another jolt, jolting you out of the moment and back into reality.

Pulling away, you open your eyes to meet Santiago’s worried gaze. Your heart still thunders in your chest, your hands still tremble, but maybe not entirely for the same reasons. He bites his lip as you gaze at him, holding both hands up in a gesture of surrender. For all he must have faced during his job, he looks downright terrified of your reaction.

"I didn't know what else to do to distract you. I didn't want you to get anymore panicked. I thought… maybe it would help," he swallows hard, slowly lowering his hands when you let go of his jacket, oblivious to the height or the movement of the wheel now. Of course that's all it was. He was just being a good friend. He was just distracting you.

Now more than ever you are desperate to get off. Desperate to put some space between you — where you aren't pressed together against a glittering background of lights and stars. You need space to forget about the way his lips felt against yours, the way he held you in a way you've longed for.

None of it was real, and your heart aches painfully for what you now know you’d be missing out on.

"I mean, if it helps though, I can do it again? I sort of want to do it again," he admits with a shrug, looking anywhere but at you.

You can't help but stare at him blankly as he continues.

"I think the others got sick of me putting it off and set us up tonight. I mean, there's no way they all suddenly had something come up right?"

You're barely taking in his rambling as your mind tries to catch up.

"Santiago," he almost winces as though expecting you to suddenly start shouting, "You want to kiss me again?"

"I guess it depends on if you're ok with that or not. Because I can go back to pretending I don't want to kiss you, if that's what you prefer!"

Something in your heart swells in hope, then the cart gives another sickening lurch as the wheel moves around again. Grabbing onto him, you take a deep shaking breath.

"You'd better kiss me again before I remember how much I hate you for bringing me on this,"

The relief on his face is almost instantaneous, his eyes going wide with surprise. It takes all of seconds for his shock to be replaced with a smug grin.

"You got it, princesa!”

His hand slides around the back of your neck, his thumb softly stroking your cheek as he brings your lips back to his, holding you close as he kisses you.

While you would like to have been entirely distracted from the height, it still leaves you trembling in fear at each movement. But Santiago does a good job of distracting you from the worst, at least until you make it back to the ground.

~

"So, do you still hate me, or did you just say that because you were scared?" Santiago asks with a cheeky grin as he helps you out of the cart, finally being freed from your hell.

Straightening your clothes, you glare at him.

"Of course I still hate you. I hate you more than ever. That's not how I imagined our first kiss would go," You complain with a frown, running a trembling hand over your hair as you try to calm down.

His eyes go wide with surprise, his mouth going slack as he scrambles for words, suddenly lost for a moment.

"Y-You imagined kissing me before?"

With a teasing smile you turn on your heel and start to take somewhat shaky steps to the exit of the ride, Santiago rushing to follow close behind you.

"Wait, you can’t just say that and not elaborate. I need details! How long have you thought about kissing me? How did you imagine it? Was it as good as you thought it would be?” He pauses in his tirade of questions as he slips his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together. He’s quiet for a moment before he grins, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, “Is kissing all you imagined?"

---

Prompts : Things you said Masterlist Beta: @mypedrom (Thank you sweetie as always) Taglist: @fisforfulcrum ; @the-scandalorian ; @salome-c ; @mypedrom ; @pumpkin-stars ; @mbpokemonrulez ; @jitterbugs927 ; @prettylilhalforc ; @lexloon ; @one-hell-of-a-disappointment ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @reenadreams ; @dailyreverie ; @fett-ching

[the-little-ewok]

Hullo lovely! Would love to see what fluffy magic you can weave for one Santiago 'Pope' Garcia with number 33 ^^

Thank you for the prompt! I really hope you like it.

Home early

Fluff prompts ficlet :

Santiago ("Pope") Garcia X G/N Reader

Warnings: Implied sexual content (non explicit) ; fluff

Rating: M

Wordcount: 640(ish)

Summary: Santiago comes home early to find you wearing his clothes

Prompt 33 (from fluff prompts): "Why are you wearing my sweater?" "Because it smells like you."

-------

You hadn't heard the door when he unlocked it. Or noticed a single noise when he dropped his bag down in the hallway. His footsteps across the hardwood floor didn’t catch your attention. No, you'd been too busy dancing along to the radio, mixing cake batter while you counted down the minutes to his return. When he wants to move quietly, Santiago is more than capable and somehow he catches you out; Every. Single. Time.

All of this results in you letting out a scream as his hands slide around your waist from behind, having no idea how long he's been watching you for.

"I'm home, mi amor." He laughs in your ear, pulling you against him and holding you tight as he places a soft kiss on your temple. As soon as you hear his voice you relax, though your heart still gallops for an entirely different reason.

"I could have killed you! You're home early." You admonish him softly. When he lets you go, you hold up the mixing spoon with a threatening glare, turning to look him over. "Still could." You warn, checking him head to toe. All in one piece.

"My flight got in early... and I'd like to see you try and kill anyone with a wooden spoon." Giving you a fond smile, he takes the spoon out of your fingers.

"Don't-" His tongue darts out to lick off the batter, his eyes holding yours. "Eat it." You half laugh, half sigh.

He makes a show of licking the mixture off with long slow laps, his tongue dragging across the wood. You bite your lip as you watch him, heat creeping across your skin, knowing exactly what he's trying to do.

Suddenly, he pauses mid lick to give you a frown, pointing the spoon at you. "Why are you wearing my sweater?"

You shift your feet, suddenly embarrassed he's caught you. When he's gone, you always wear his clothes. It helps settle your anxiety until he's home safe. It at least allows you to feel closer to him. Except, you've always had time to get changed before he's arrived back.

"Because it smells like you." You admit, feeling awkward under his intense gaze. You catch the way his lips quirk into a grin, his eyes crinkling in the corners as it spreads across his face.

"Oh? I thought you said you didn't miss me when I called?" He raises an eyebrow, throwing the spoon into the sink and sliding his hands around your hips.

"I didn't. I just like the way you smell." You tease.

"I missed you, too." He backs you up against the kitchen counter, pinning you there with his body, pressing himself against you. Santi nudges his nose softly against yours. “I missed you a lot." He admits before he kisses you sweetly, just once, a soft fleeting brush of his lips against yours. With a sigh, he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly against him. "I'm glad to be home."

You smile and inhale the scent of him, content just to hold him in your arms, safe and sound.

His nose nudges your neck gently and when he begins to press a trail of soft kisses to your skin, heat blazes through your veins. Pulling back to look at you, he wipes a smudge of flour from your cheek, his eyes a shade darker than they were before.

"I want my sweater back." He growls with a raw, lustful edge to his voice. The one he always gets when he's been away too long and he has no patience to wait to take you. His fingers drop down and curl into the soft material of the sweater.

"Come take it, then." You invite. So, he does.

--------------

Taglist: @fett-ching ; @salome-c ; @mypedrom ; @pumpkin-stars ; @the-scandalorian ; @mbpokemonrulez ; @fisforfulcrum

As always thank you to my beta @fisforfulcrum

Fluff prompts are open - send me an ask

[the-little-ewok]

Fic Rec List

As part of my 100 followers celebration I have taken a list of fic recs! (and included some of my own recommendations)

Thank you for everyone who sent them to me! (Happy to do a part 2 if people want to send anymore)

Please go check these out and show the authors some love!

Fics under the cut (it got long)

These are some amazing fics from some amazing writers. A huge thank you to everyone out there who takes the time out of their day to write and post them on here. You are amazing!

From @anetteaneta

The Lonely Child

I would like to recommend you a great short story from @supernovafeather. She's incredibly talented! Her stories with Duke Leto are a masterpiece. Take a look at them!

From @the-scandalorian

Chasing Butterflies by @tuskens-mando

This fic gives me butterflies; it’s so sweet and hot and just a delight to read.

Hurricane by @fisforfulcrum

You know Laura brings the filth and the angst and the best plot lines.

Everything and More by @dincrypt

Sugar Daddy Din is what dreams are made of.

It’s All about What You Want by @thirstworldproblemss

This is such a fun, well-written a/b/o set-up.

From @salome-c

I recommend everything each one of these writers posted here but I chose one so this list can fit here

Latch by @pentechnics

What we lost by @anetteaneta

A guiding force by @im-poe-dameron

Pope's princesa by @hotspacepilots and Down Payment by @jedi-mando from the We were warriors universe

Between the raindrops by @jazzelsaur

Everything @princessxkenobi writes but I'm recommending this one because it was the last one I read (I think) Untouchable

Bonded by @mandocrasis

The Link by @supernovafeather

Third Time's a Charm by @mypedrom

From @fisforfulcrum

Post Script by @reysflyboy

The Game by @just-here-for-the-moment

Cold hands warm heart by @santiagogarcia

The New Mandalore by @thefact0rygirl

Intertidal by @the-scandalorian

Little Rebel by @thefact0rygirl

Extrasolar by @the-scandalorian

Intrasolar by @the-scandalorian

Graceless by @reysflyboy

Tempered Glass: Chapter 1 by @the-scandalorian

Get used to it by @dailyreverie

Forbarance by @pumpkin-stars

frankie morales x f!reader by @frannyzooey

From me

These are my favorite fics. The ones I've read over and over. My comfort fics. My happy place.

Say it again by @fisforfulcrum

Forbarance by @pumpkin-stars

Flyboy by @fisforfulcrum

Always warm in your arms by @zoriis

Revelation by @the-scandalorian

Javier Peña x f!reader by @mypedrom

Directions by @zinzinina

[nerdieforpedro]

💙💙💙

I've never done a request before! Could you do tummy kisses with a plus size reader? I'm always down for nsfw but you decide where it goes! Please and thank you 😁

- @mandinlore

Every inch of you

Santiago Garcia X Plus size F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2300 (ish)

Warnings : Reader is plus size, Explicit, Oral (f- receiving), lack of body confidence, insecurities, love bites, one actual bite, quick fingering, soft Santi being soft. And I do mean soft. (Yea it's cliché. I have no regrets)

Prompt/Summary : Tummy kisses/ Santiago helps show you how perfect you are

A/N : Keep the prompts short, she says, ease yourself back into writing she says…. Hahahaha enjoy your 2k ;) I got carried away. @mandinlore

Also thank you for requesting plus size! As a curvy girl myself, I absolutely loved writing this!

Side note - if anyone (who has prompts outstanding or wants to send new requests) wants a specific reader (plus size, short girl, specific job etc) please don't feel shy about asking! I'll do my best to write it!

"Cariño, you gotta tell me what's wrong? We can take things slow if that's what you want. You already know you're in control here. But, is something else wrong?" Santi sighs, sitting back on the couch after you pushed him away, yet again, before things could go too far. You couldn't blame his reaction, not after you had been hot and cold for weeks now.

Everytime he had tried to take things further, into anything that involves you removing clothing, you had made excuses to stop. He'd always backed off without complaint, reassuring you that he'll wait until you're ready, but you know he's starting to suspect there's more that you're hiding. God damn over observant Santiago Garcia. His military training served him too well in that.

The truth was, it wasn't that you didn't want things to go too far. In fact, you wanted very much to have his body pressed up against yours, his mouth against your skin, his cock buried deep inside you.

But for that to happen he had to see your body. And that was what scared you the most.

"Hey." His voice, and his fingers gripping your chin, turning your face to force you to look at him, rips you from your thoughts.

Meeting his questioning gaze you're struck, and not for the first time, by how pretty he is. Especially now — hair tousled by your fingers, eyes bright with lust, lips kiss swollen, cheeks flushed.

It makes you want to drag him back down onto the couch and lose yourself in his kisses once more.

"Tell me where your head is at," he pleads, his gaze soft. "Whatever it is, we can talk about it.

"I don't want to take it slow," you whisper, swallowing hard, sliding your vision away from him, even as he holds your face. You focus your eyes on the coffee table, the empty glasses and half eaten snacks, the movie still playing quietly in the background. You had stopped watching some time ago when you caught him watching you more than the film.

"There's a but coming, right?" Santi prompts when you lapse into silence.

"It's just…"

It's just I don't want you to be disappointed.

It's just I don't look like your exes.

It's just I don't think you'll want me.

You trail off, struggling to find the words to explain your fears.

"It's just, what?" Santi presses, his tone still gentle as ever.

"Idontwantyoutoseeme," you mumble out quickly, flicking your eyes back to him for a split second before you look away again.

Santi lets out a sigh, although it's not one of impatience, or disappointment. It sounds more like he might be… relieved.

"That's what you're worried about? Jesus, you scared me." He gives a small chuckle, shaking his head as he takes your face in both his hands, which forces your gaze back to his. For a long moment, he studies you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"You are beautiful," he states simply before his hands drop to your waist and he shifts, leaning over you and guiding you back to lie down against the couch, once more taking up his position over you, nestling himself between your thighs.

"Have you noticed what you do to me?" He asks, hammering home his point by pressing the bulge in his pants up against your core, making you gasp, despite the anxiety coiled tight in your stomach.

"With my clothes on maybe," you mumble, unable to quiet the vicious thoughts still seeping through.

"I want to see you. I want to see all of you. You don't have to hide from me," he whispers against the shell of your ear, dipping his head to place a trail of kisses down your neck.

"I don't think you'll like what you see." Even as the fear builds you can't stop the moan that steals its way from your lips as he seals his lips against your neck, sucking a mark there.

"Can I be the judge of that?" He asks, leaning up on his arms to look at you. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Your response comes with no hesitation. You don't even have to think about it. You do, wholeheartedly, entirely, trust him. He's done more than enough to earn that trust from you.

"I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do, but please trust me when I say I will love every inch of you."

The sincerity in his voice makes tears prick your eyes.

You swallow hard, still arguing with the voice in the back of your mind that tells you you aren't good enough for him, that he won't want you.

Santiago waits patiently while you muddle through your thoughts.

After a long moment, what feels like a millennia of debating, you give him a nod, and watch his smile transform into one of absolute pride.

"If you're uncomfortable at any time, stop me, okay?" He requests, and you nod again, not trusting your voice not to waiver if you answered.

He captures your lips once more in a long, slow, passionate kiss. His tongue mapping out every corner of your mouth, sliding along yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, keeping you breathless.

This time when his hands begin to tug the hem of your shirt up, you don't stop him.

He unpeels each layer of your clothes carefully, waiting for you to relax before he moves on to the next, almost maddeningly slow in his actions. Still, you appreciate his patience.

When you're finally fully bared, what feels like an age later, he sits back, dropping your panties to the floor as his eyes roam the flesh laid out before him.

You feel sick, dizzy with anxiety, waiting for him to realise how bad you look, how much he doesn't want you, to make excuses for you to leave.

Santiago does none of those things.

Instead, he lets out a low groan.

"Shit, you are incredible."

You could almost think he was lying, just to make you feel better, but as you look up at him, his eyes hooded, pupils blown wide, licking his lips like you were a meal he's been waiting all day for, you could actually kid yourself into believing him.

You squirm under his unwavering gaze, your hands automatically going to cover your stomach, twisting away from him.

Santi`s eyebrows pull together in a deep frown, shaking his head.

"Don't do that. Don't ever do that again. Not with me," he scolds you softly as he pries your hands away from your body, pinning them down to the couch.

Leaning over you he captures your lips, his kisses tender and loving. His hands wander your body slowly, mapping each curve as he grinds himself against your core. Each slow roll of his hips pushes the zipper of his jeans up against your clit, drawing muffled moans from your lips. Each sound you make he swallows as though they were a vintage wine, something to be savoured.

"Want to make you feel good," he slurs, finally giving you a moment to breathe. "Can I make you feel good?"

Still unable to form words, you nod, probably a little too enthusiastically, causing Santi's eyes to crinkle as he grins.

"Yeah?" He confirms, moving his kisses down to your breasts, peppering them with soft brushes of his lips. "Baby gonna be good and let me kiss her all over?"

You can feel the slick wetness pooling between your legs, the heat blazing across your skin, the blood roaring in your ears, and the ever present anxiety nipping at your thoughts, a constant companion which never seems to quiet.

Well, that is until Santi bites your nipple, turning your yelp at the sharp pain, into a moan as he soothes it with his tongue.

After that, all your thoughts, good and bad, begin to get a little hazy.

"Mmmm I like that noise," he hums, lathering your other breast with the same attention, making you struggle to catch your breath with the pleasure he was already wringing from you.

As his kisses trail lower, his lips pressing against the plush of your stomach, you can't help but try to curl in on yourself, trying to hide as much as you can in the small space of the couch.

It's a pointless endeavour. Santi's mouth pays particular attention to every part you try to twist away, or subtly hide as you move your arms.

He spends an age trailing soft kisses all the way across your stomach, before working his way back to your naval, and then down, leaving tiny love bites in his wake. A trail marking you as his over all the places you hate, before he stops, head between your already trembling thighs, looking up at you.

When your eyes meet his, he grins before he dips his head, holding your gaze as he thrusts his tongue deep inside you.

Your head slams back against the arm of the couch, your eyes squeezing shut, the image of his face buried in your pussy blazing behind your eyelids. You choke back a moan as his tongue loops up around your clit, before back down to taste you again.

"Keep making noises like that and we're going to have a problem," he warns, warm breath fanning out across your already heated skin, making you squirm with the stimulation.

You have no idea what problem he's talking about, and as his tongue slides through your folds, up to circle your clit a second time, you really couldn't care less about it either.

Your back arches as you chase the warm pleasure of his mouth, a groan of his name falling from your lips. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts on your pussy like a starved man.

Curses and praises fall freely from your lips, accompanied by whimpers and moans as he expertly coaxes you closer and closer to the edge, all your anxieties silenced by the overwhelming pleasure that stops you from concentrating on anything else.

Santi groans, a noise that vibrates through your entire core, and pushes you dangerously close to the edge. When one of his hands disappears from your thigh, you can't help but open your eyes to glance down at him, your breath catching.

His eyes are closed, a look of pure bliss you haven't seen before on his face, as his tongue laps languidly at your slick cunt, while he palms his hard cock through his pants.

You throw your head back once more with a whine, unable to continue to watch him as he chooses that moment to seal his lips over your clit and suck, hard.

The vision of him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat of his mouth, is too much, and you come undone with a strangled cry, your body trembling, and your vision going white as the pleasure crests and crashes over you.

Even through the roaring noise of blood in your ears, and the way your orgasm makes your mind fuzzy, you still catch the tail end of Santiago's gasped curse, followed by a low, broken groan. You can't help but think it sounds suspiciously like….

You don't even get to fully finish the thought before your body shudders in desire. That couldn't be the case when you haven't even touched him.

Then again the look on his face before…

When you can finally feel your limbs again you lean up on your elbows to look down your body at him, as he, somewhat awkwardly, sits back on his heels, a wet patch blooming out on his pants.

"Santi…did you…?" You swallow, trailing off as he looks somewhat abashed.

"Um, yeah," he admits, an unmistakable blush forming on his cheeks.

"Because of….me?" You ask quietly, feeling a strange sense of pride that, even as you are, you were able to do that to him.

"Oh, enjoying this, are we?" Santi laughs teasingly, relaxing a little when he sees your wide eyed surprise and the smile you're trying to bite down.

Putting his arms either side of you, he cages you in, as he runs his nose up the length of your neck. Even the lightest of touches makes your body shiver with desire.

"Maybe…a bit," you admit, a little distractedly as he places a kiss below your ear, pressing his body against yours, clearly knowing exactly what he's doing to you.

"Good," he mumbles into your skin. "Although next time I cum I want to be buried inside you."

He whispers it so sinfully low in your ear, you swear you could cum again just from his words.

Your breath catches and you can feel Santiago's smug smile against your neck, where he's still busy pressing soft kisses.

"I'm a little bit disappointed though," you manage to swallow out, trying to ignore the way his hand is skimming across your sweat damp skin, down the outside of your thigh, before slowly working its way back up.

Santi pulls back to look at you so quickly, you're surprised he doesn't put his back out.

"Disappointed?"

You can't quite tell if it's outrage or concern, that laces his tone, but whichever it is, you can't stop the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, only making him frown more deeply.

"Cariño," he starts, stopping when you put a hand over his mouth to interrupt him.

"I'm disappointed I didn't get to see you."

It takes a moment for him to catch up, still clearly trying to work out what he has done wrong to disappoint you, but the moment it clicks his face transforms into a wolfish grin.

"Well, give me half an hour and I'll show you anything you want," he winks. "For now I guess I'll go back to admiring you." His eyes flicker once more down your body, surveying you like prey.

It makes your pussy clench.

"You really mean it don't you?" You whisper as he tilts his head in question. "You do like me the way I am?"

"I really mean it," he confirms seriously, "you are perfect."

He doesn't give you much time to think too hard about his confirmation, or really anything at all. Leaning back into you he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, clearly working on making you forget your own name.

You wrap one hand around the back of his neck, holding him to you as the other slips down his back to playfully squeeze his ass, drawing a low growl from the man above you.

Santiago is quick enough to get his revenge, slipping a hand between your bodies to brush his fingers against your clit.

You let out a gasp, and shudder with the over stimulation, as his fingers draw tight circles against your sensitive nub.

"You said half an hour," you practically whimper, unable to stop your hips canting up against his hand.

"For me. I didn't say you get a break." He smirks, slipping a finger into your wet heat, drawing another broken sound from you. "I want you to make those pretty sounds for me again… and again… and again."

-------------

If you enjoyed this please, please, reblog and tell me your thoughts! Reblogs and feedback are so important to content creators. It keeps us creating!

Special thank you to my patient, most lovely beta, who puts up with every smutty Santi thought that enters my brain @beldroxramscal

I no longer run a taglist. If you are 18+ please follow my blog and check the master list for updates. More fics are coming 👀

[nerdieforpedro]

Ehehe! Glorious 🔥🔥

I've never done a request before! Could you do tummy kisses with a plus size reader? I'm always down for nsfw but you decide where it goes! Please and thank you 😁

- @mandinlore

Every inch of you

Santiago Garcia X Plus size F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2300 (ish)

Warnings : Reader is plus size, Explicit, Oral (f- receiving), lack of body confidence, insecurities, love bites, one actual bite, quick fingering, soft Santi being soft. And I do mean soft. (Yea it's cliché. I have no regrets)

Prompt/Summary : Tummy kisses/ Santiago helps show you how perfect you are

A/N : Keep the prompts short, she says, ease yourself back into writing she says…. Hahahaha enjoy your 2k ;) I got carried away. @mandinlore

Also thank you for requesting plus size! As a curvy girl myself, I absolutely loved writing this!

Side note - if anyone (who has prompts outstanding or wants to send new requests) wants a specific reader (plus size, short girl, specific job etc) please don't feel shy about asking! I'll do my best to write it!

"Cariño, you gotta tell me what's wrong? We can take things slow if that's what you want. You already know you're in control here. But, is something else wrong?" Santi sighs, sitting back on the couch after you pushed him away, yet again, before things could go too far. You couldn't blame his reaction, not after you had been hot and cold for weeks now.

Everytime he had tried to take things further, into anything that involves you removing clothing, you had made excuses to stop. He'd always backed off without complaint, reassuring you that he'll wait until you're ready, but you know he's starting to suspect there's more that you're hiding. God damn over observant Santiago Garcia. His military training served him too well in that.

The truth was, it wasn't that you didn't want things to go too far. In fact, you wanted very much to have his body pressed up against yours, his mouth against your skin, his cock buried deep inside you.

But for that to happen he had to see your body. And that was what scared you the most.

"Hey." His voice, and his fingers gripping your chin, turning your face to force you to look at him, rips you from your thoughts.

Meeting his questioning gaze you're struck, and not for the first time, by how pretty he is. Especially now — hair tousled by your fingers, eyes bright with lust, lips kiss swollen, cheeks flushed.

It makes you want to drag him back down onto the couch and lose yourself in his kisses once more.

"Tell me where your head is at," he pleads, his gaze soft. "Whatever it is, we can talk about it.

"I don't want to take it slow," you whisper, swallowing hard, sliding your vision away from him, even as he holds your face. You focus your eyes on the coffee table, the empty glasses and half eaten snacks, the movie still playing quietly in the background. You had stopped watching some time ago when you caught him watching you more than the film.

"There's a but coming, right?" Santi prompts when you lapse into silence.

"It's just…"

It's just I don't want you to be disappointed.

It's just I don't look like your exes.

It's just I don't think you'll want me.

You trail off, struggling to find the words to explain your fears.

"It's just, what?" Santi presses, his tone still gentle as ever.

"Idontwantyoutoseeme," you mumble out quickly, flicking your eyes back to him for a split second before you look away again.

Santi lets out a sigh, although it's not one of impatience, or disappointment. It sounds more like he might be… relieved.

"That's what you're worried about? Jesus, you scared me." He gives a small chuckle, shaking his head as he takes your face in both his hands, which forces your gaze back to his. For a long moment, he studies you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"You are beautiful," he states simply before his hands drop to your waist and he shifts, leaning over you and guiding you back to lie down against the couch, once more taking up his position over you, nestling himself between your thighs.

"Have you noticed what you do to me?" He asks, hammering home his point by pressing the bulge in his pants up against your core, making you gasp, despite the anxiety coiled tight in your stomach.

"With my clothes on maybe," you mumble, unable to quiet the vicious thoughts still seeping through.

"I want to see you. I want to see all of you. You don't have to hide from me," he whispers against the shell of your ear, dipping his head to place a trail of kisses down your neck.

"I don't think you'll like what you see." Even as the fear builds you can't stop the moan that steals its way from your lips as he seals his lips against your neck, sucking a mark there.

"Can I be the judge of that?" He asks, leaning up on his arms to look at you. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Your response comes with no hesitation. You don't even have to think about it. You do, wholeheartedly, entirely, trust him. He's done more than enough to earn that trust from you.

"I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do, but please trust me when I say I will love every inch of you."

The sincerity in his voice makes tears prick your eyes.

You swallow hard, still arguing with the voice in the back of your mind that tells you you aren't good enough for him, that he won't want you.

Santiago waits patiently while you muddle through your thoughts.

After a long moment, what feels like a millennia of debating, you give him a nod, and watch his smile transform into one of absolute pride.

"If you're uncomfortable at any time, stop me, okay?" He requests, and you nod again, not trusting your voice not to waiver if you answered.

He captures your lips once more in a long, slow, passionate kiss. His tongue mapping out every corner of your mouth, sliding along yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, keeping you breathless.

This time when his hands begin to tug the hem of your shirt up, you don't stop him.

He unpeels each layer of your clothes carefully, waiting for you to relax before he moves on to the next, almost maddeningly slow in his actions. Still, you appreciate his patience.

When you're finally fully bared, what feels like an age later, he sits back, dropping your panties to the floor as his eyes roam the flesh laid out before him.

You feel sick, dizzy with anxiety, waiting for him to realise how bad you look, how much he doesn't want you, to make excuses for you to leave.

Santiago does none of those things.

Instead, he lets out a low groan.

"Shit, you are incredible."

You could almost think he was lying, just to make you feel better, but as you look up at him, his eyes hooded, pupils blown wide, licking his lips like you were a meal he's been waiting all day for, you could actually kid yourself into believing him.

You squirm under his unwavering gaze, your hands automatically going to cover your stomach, twisting away from him.

Santi`s eyebrows pull together in a deep frown, shaking his head.

"Don't do that. Don't ever do that again. Not with me," he scolds you softly as he pries your hands away from your body, pinning them down to the couch.

Leaning over you he captures your lips, his kisses tender and loving. His hands wander your body slowly, mapping each curve as he grinds himself against your core. Each slow roll of his hips pushes the zipper of his jeans up against your clit, drawing muffled moans from your lips. Each sound you make he swallows as though they were a vintage wine, something to be savoured.

"Want to make you feel good," he slurs, finally giving you a moment to breathe. "Can I make you feel good?"

Still unable to form words, you nod, probably a little too enthusiastically, causing Santi's eyes to crinkle as he grins.

"Yeah?" He confirms, moving his kisses down to your breasts, peppering them with soft brushes of his lips. "Baby gonna be good and let me kiss her all over?"

You can feel the slick wetness pooling between your legs, the heat blazing across your skin, the blood roaring in your ears, and the ever present anxiety nipping at your thoughts, a constant companion which never seems to quiet.

Well, that is until Santi bites your nipple, turning your yelp at the sharp pain, into a moan as he soothes it with his tongue.

After that, all your thoughts, good and bad, begin to get a little hazy.

"Mmmm I like that noise," he hums, lathering your other breast with the same attention, making you struggle to catch your breath with the pleasure he was already wringing from you.

As his kisses trail lower, his lips pressing against the plush of your stomach, you can't help but try to curl in on yourself, trying to hide as much as you can in the small space of the couch.

It's a pointless endeavour. Santi's mouth pays particular attention to every part you try to twist away, or subtly hide as you move your arms.

He spends an age trailing soft kisses all the way across your stomach, before working his way back to your naval, and then down, leaving tiny love bites in his wake. A trail marking you as his over all the places you hate, before he stops, head between your already trembling thighs, looking up at you.

When your eyes meet his, he grins before he dips his head, holding your gaze as he thrusts his tongue deep inside you.

Your head slams back against the arm of the couch, your eyes squeezing shut, the image of his face buried in your pussy blazing behind your eyelids. You choke back a moan as his tongue loops up around your clit, before back down to taste you again.

"Keep making noises like that and we're going to have a problem," he warns, warm breath fanning out across your already heated skin, making you squirm with the stimulation.

You have no idea what problem he's talking about, and as his tongue slides through your folds, up to circle your clit a second time, you really couldn't care less about it either.

Your back arches as you chase the warm pleasure of his mouth, a groan of his name falling from your lips. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts on your pussy like a starved man.

Curses and praises fall freely from your lips, accompanied by whimpers and moans as he expertly coaxes you closer and closer to the edge, all your anxieties silenced by the overwhelming pleasure that stops you from concentrating on anything else.

Santi groans, a noise that vibrates through your entire core, and pushes you dangerously close to the edge. When one of his hands disappears from your thigh, you can't help but open your eyes to glance down at him, your breath catching.

His eyes are closed, a look of pure bliss you haven't seen before on his face, as his tongue laps languidly at your slick cunt, while he palms his hard cock through his pants.

You throw your head back once more with a whine, unable to continue to watch him as he chooses that moment to seal his lips over your clit and suck, hard.

The vision of him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat of his mouth, is too much, and you come undone with a strangled cry, your body trembling, and your vision going white as the pleasure crests and crashes over you.

Even through the roaring noise of blood in your ears, and the way your orgasm makes your mind fuzzy, you still catch the tail end of Santiago's gasped curse, followed by a low, broken groan. You can't help but think it sounds suspiciously like….

You don't even get to fully finish the thought before your body shudders in desire. That couldn't be the case when you haven't even touched him.

Then again the look on his face before…

When you can finally feel your limbs again you lean up on your elbows to look down your body at him, as he, somewhat awkwardly, sits back on his heels, a wet patch blooming out on his pants.

"Santi…did you…?" You swallow, trailing off as he looks somewhat abashed.

"Um, yeah," he admits, an unmistakable blush forming on his cheeks.

"Because of….me?" You ask quietly, feeling a strange sense of pride that, even as you are, you were able to do that to him.

"Oh, enjoying this, are we?" Santi laughs teasingly, relaxing a little when he sees your wide eyed surprise and the smile you're trying to bite down.

Putting his arms either side of you, he cages you in, as he runs his nose up the length of your neck. Even the lightest of touches makes your body shiver with desire.

"Maybe…a bit," you admit, a little distractedly as he places a kiss below your ear, pressing his body against yours, clearly knowing exactly what he's doing to you.

"Good," he mumbles into your skin. "Although next time I cum I want to be buried inside you."

He whispers it so sinfully low in your ear, you swear you could cum again just from his words.

Your breath catches and you can feel Santiago's smug smile against your neck, where he's still busy pressing soft kisses.

"I'm a little bit disappointed though," you manage to swallow out, trying to ignore the way his hand is skimming across your sweat damp skin, down the outside of your thigh, before slowly working its way back up.

Santi pulls back to look at you so quickly, you're surprised he doesn't put his back out.

"Disappointed?"

You can't quite tell if it's outrage or concern, that laces his tone, but whichever it is, you can't stop the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, only making him frown more deeply.

"Cariño," he starts, stopping when you put a hand over his mouth to interrupt him.

"I'm disappointed I didn't get to see you."

It takes a moment for him to catch up, still clearly trying to work out what he has done wrong to disappoint you, but the moment it clicks his face transforms into a wolfish grin.

"Well, give me half an hour and I'll show you anything you want," he winks. "For now I guess I'll go back to admiring you." His eyes flicker once more down your body, surveying you like prey.

It makes your pussy clench.

"You really mean it don't you?" You whisper as he tilts his head in question. "You do like me the way I am?"

"I really mean it," he confirms seriously, "you are perfect."

He doesn't give you much time to think too hard about his confirmation, or really anything at all. Leaning back into you he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, clearly working on making you forget your own name.

You wrap one hand around the back of his neck, holding him to you as the other slips down his back to playfully squeeze his ass, drawing a low growl from the man above you.

Santiago is quick enough to get his revenge, slipping a hand between your bodies to brush his fingers against your clit.

You let out a gasp, and shudder with the over stimulation, as his fingers draw tight circles against your sensitive nub.

"You said half an hour," you practically whimper, unable to stop your hips canting up against his hand.

"For me. I didn't say you get a break." He smirks, slipping a finger into your wet heat, drawing another broken sound from you. "I want you to make those pretty sounds for me again… and again… and again."

-------------

If you enjoyed this please, please, reblog and tell me your thoughts! Reblogs and feedback are so important to content creators. It keeps us creating!

Special thank you to my patient, most lovely beta, who puts up with every smutty Santi thought that enters my brain @beldroxramscal

I no longer run a taglist. If you are 18+ please follow my blog and check the master list for updates. More fics are coming 👀

[solodameron]

As someone who struggles with body image issues, this hit home for me. Love this so much.

I've never done a request before! Could you do tummy kisses with a plus size reader? I'm always down for nsfw but you decide where it goes! Please and thank you 😁

- @mandinlore

Every inch of you

Santiago Garcia X Plus size F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2300 (ish)

Warnings : Reader is plus size, Explicit, Oral (f- receiving), lack of body confidence, insecurities, love bites, one actual bite, quick fingering, soft Santi being soft. And I do mean soft. (Yea it's cliché. I have no regrets)

Prompt/Summary : Tummy kisses/ Santiago helps show you how perfect you are

A/N : Keep the prompts short, she says, ease yourself back into writing she says…. Hahahaha enjoy your 2k ;) I got carried away. @mandinlore

Also thank you for requesting plus size! As a curvy girl myself, I absolutely loved writing this!

Side note - if anyone (who has prompts outstanding or wants to send new requests) wants a specific reader (plus size, short girl, specific job etc) please don't feel shy about asking! I'll do my best to write it!

"Cariño, you gotta tell me what's wrong? We can take things slow if that's what you want. You already know you're in control here. But, is something else wrong?" Santi sighs, sitting back on the couch after you pushed him away, yet again, before things could go too far. You couldn't blame his reaction, not after you had been hot and cold for weeks now.

Everytime he had tried to take things further, into anything that involves you removing clothing, you had made excuses to stop. He'd always backed off without complaint, reassuring you that he'll wait until you're ready, but you know he's starting to suspect there's more that you're hiding. God damn over observant Santiago Garcia. His military training served him too well in that.

The truth was, it wasn't that you didn't want things to go too far. In fact, you wanted very much to have his body pressed up against yours, his mouth against your skin, his cock buried deep inside you.

But for that to happen he had to see your body. And that was what scared you the most.

"Hey." His voice, and his fingers gripping your chin, turning your face to force you to look at him, rips you from your thoughts.

Meeting his questioning gaze you're struck, and not for the first time, by how pretty he is. Especially now — hair tousled by your fingers, eyes bright with lust, lips kiss swollen, cheeks flushed.

It makes you want to drag him back down onto the couch and lose yourself in his kisses once more.

"Tell me where your head is at," he pleads, his gaze soft. "Whatever it is, we can talk about it.

"I don't want to take it slow," you whisper, swallowing hard, sliding your vision away from him, even as he holds your face. You focus your eyes on the coffee table, the empty glasses and half eaten snacks, the movie still playing quietly in the background. You had stopped watching some time ago when you caught him watching you more than the film.

"There's a but coming, right?" Santi prompts when you lapse into silence.

"It's just…"

It's just I don't want you to be disappointed.

It's just I don't look like your exes.

It's just I don't think you'll want me.

You trail off, struggling to find the words to explain your fears.

"It's just, what?" Santi presses, his tone still gentle as ever.

"Idontwantyoutoseeme," you mumble out quickly, flicking your eyes back to him for a split second before you look away again.

Santi lets out a sigh, although it's not one of impatience, or disappointment. It sounds more like he might be… relieved.

"That's what you're worried about? Jesus, you scared me." He gives a small chuckle, shaking his head as he takes your face in both his hands, which forces your gaze back to his. For a long moment, he studies you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"You are beautiful," he states simply before his hands drop to your waist and he shifts, leaning over you and guiding you back to lie down against the couch, once more taking up his position over you, nestling himself between your thighs.

"Have you noticed what you do to me?" He asks, hammering home his point by pressing the bulge in his pants up against your core, making you gasp, despite the anxiety coiled tight in your stomach.

"With my clothes on maybe," you mumble, unable to quiet the vicious thoughts still seeping through.

"I want to see you. I want to see all of you. You don't have to hide from me," he whispers against the shell of your ear, dipping his head to place a trail of kisses down your neck.

"I don't think you'll like what you see." Even as the fear builds you can't stop the moan that steals its way from your lips as he seals his lips against your neck, sucking a mark there.

"Can I be the judge of that?" He asks, leaning up on his arms to look at you. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Your response comes with no hesitation. You don't even have to think about it. You do, wholeheartedly, entirely, trust him. He's done more than enough to earn that trust from you.

"I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do, but please trust me when I say I will love every inch of you."

The sincerity in his voice makes tears prick your eyes.

You swallow hard, still arguing with the voice in the back of your mind that tells you you aren't good enough for him, that he won't want you.

Santiago waits patiently while you muddle through your thoughts.

After a long moment, what feels like a millennia of debating, you give him a nod, and watch his smile transform into one of absolute pride.

"If you're uncomfortable at any time, stop me, okay?" He requests, and you nod again, not trusting your voice not to waiver if you answered.

He captures your lips once more in a long, slow, passionate kiss. His tongue mapping out every corner of your mouth, sliding along yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, keeping you breathless.

This time when his hands begin to tug the hem of your shirt up, you don't stop him.

He unpeels each layer of your clothes carefully, waiting for you to relax before he moves on to the next, almost maddeningly slow in his actions. Still, you appreciate his patience.

When you're finally fully bared, what feels like an age later, he sits back, dropping your panties to the floor as his eyes roam the flesh laid out before him.

You feel sick, dizzy with anxiety, waiting for him to realise how bad you look, how much he doesn't want you, to make excuses for you to leave.

Santiago does none of those things.

Instead, he lets out a low groan.

"Shit, you are incredible."

You could almost think he was lying, just to make you feel better, but as you look up at him, his eyes hooded, pupils blown wide, licking his lips like you were a meal he's been waiting all day for, you could actually kid yourself into believing him.

You squirm under his unwavering gaze, your hands automatically going to cover your stomach, twisting away from him.

Santi`s eyebrows pull together in a deep frown, shaking his head.

"Don't do that. Don't ever do that again. Not with me," he scolds you softly as he pries your hands away from your body, pinning them down to the couch.

Leaning over you he captures your lips, his kisses tender and loving. His hands wander your body slowly, mapping each curve as he grinds himself against your core. Each slow roll of his hips pushes the zipper of his jeans up against your clit, drawing muffled moans from your lips. Each sound you make he swallows as though they were a vintage wine, something to be savoured.

"Want to make you feel good," he slurs, finally giving you a moment to breathe. "Can I make you feel good?"

Still unable to form words, you nod, probably a little too enthusiastically, causing Santi's eyes to crinkle as he grins.

"Yeah?" He confirms, moving his kisses down to your breasts, peppering them with soft brushes of his lips. "Baby gonna be good and let me kiss her all over?"

You can feel the slick wetness pooling between your legs, the heat blazing across your skin, the blood roaring in your ears, and the ever present anxiety nipping at your thoughts, a constant companion which never seems to quiet.

Well, that is until Santi bites your nipple, turning your yelp at the sharp pain, into a moan as he soothes it with his tongue.

After that, all your thoughts, good and bad, begin to get a little hazy.

"Mmmm I like that noise," he hums, lathering your other breast with the same attention, making you struggle to catch your breath with the pleasure he was already wringing from you.

As his kisses trail lower, his lips pressing against the plush of your stomach, you can't help but try to curl in on yourself, trying to hide as much as you can in the small space of the couch.

It's a pointless endeavour. Santi's mouth pays particular attention to every part you try to twist away, or subtly hide as you move your arms.

He spends an age trailing soft kisses all the way across your stomach, before working his way back to your naval, and then down, leaving tiny love bites in his wake. A trail marking you as his over all the places to hate, before he stops, head between your already trembling thighs, looking up at you.

When your eyes meet his, he grins before he dips his head, holding your gaze as he thrusts his tongue deep inside you.

Your head slams back against the arm of the couch, your eyes squeezing shut, the image of his face buried in your pussy blazing behind your eyelids. You choke back a moan as his tongue loops up around your clit, before back down to taste you again.

"Keep making noises like that and we're going to have a problem," he warns, warm breath fanning out across your already heated skin, making you squirm with the stimulation.

You have no idea what problem he's talking about, and as his tongue slides through your folds, up to circle your clit a second time, you really couldn't care less about it either.

Your back arches as you chase the warm pleasure of his mouth, a groan of his name falling from your lips. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts on your pussy like a starved man.

Curses and praises fall freely from your lips, accompanied by whimpers and moans as he expertly coaxes you closer and closer to the edge, all your anxieties silenced by the overwhelming pleasure that stops you from concentrating on anything else.

Santi groans, a noise that vibrates through your entire core, and pushes you dangerously close to the edge. When one of his hands disappears from your thigh, you can't help but open your eyes to glance down at him, your breath catching.

His eyes are closed, a look of pure bliss you haven't seen before on his face, as his tongue laps languidly at your slick cunt, while he palms his hard cock through his pants.

You throw your head back once more with a whine, unable to continue to watch him as he chooses that moment to seal his lips over your clit and suck, hard.

The vision of him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat of his mouth, is too much, and you come undone with a strangled cry, your body trembling, and your vision going white as the pleasure crests and crashes over you.

Even through the roaring noise of blood in your ears, and the way your orgasm makes your mind fuzzy, you still catch the tail end of Santiago's gasped curse, followed by a low, broken groan. You can't help but think it sounds suspiciously like….

You don't even get to fully finish the thought before your body shudders in desire. That couldn't be the case when you haven't even touched him.

Then again the look on his face before…

When you can finally feel your limbs again you lean up on your elbows to look down your body at him, as he, somewhat awkwardly, sits back on his heels, a wet patch blooming out on his pants.

"Santi…did you…?" You swallow, trailing off as he looks somewhat abashed.

"Um, yeah," he admits, an unmistakable blush forming on his cheeks.

"Because of….me?" You ask quietly, feeling a strange sense of pride that, even as you are, you were able to do that to him.

"Oh, enjoying this, are we?" Santi laughs teasingly, relaxing a little when he sees your wide eyed surprise and the smile you're trying to bite down.

Putting his arms either side of you, he cages you in, as he runs his nose up the length of your neck. Even the lightest of touches makes your body shiver with desire.

"Maybe…a bit," you admit, a little distractedly as he places a kiss below your ear, pressing his body against yours, clearly knowing exactly what he's doing to you.

"Good," he mumbles into your skin. "Although next time I cum I want to be buried inside you."

He whispers it so sinfully low in your ear, you swear you could cum again just from his words.

Your breath catches and you can feel Santiago's smug smile against your neck, where he's still busy pressing soft kisses.

"I'm a little bit disappointed though," you manage to swallow out, trying to ignore the way his hand is skimming across your sweat damp skin, down the outside of your thigh, before slowly working its way back up.

Santi pulls back to look at you so quickly, you're surprised he doesn't put his back out.

"Disappointed?"

You can't quite tell if it's outrage or concern, that laces his tone, but whichever it is, you can't stop the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, only making him frown more deeply.

"Cariño," he starts, stopping when you put a hand over his mouth to interrupt him.

"I'm disappointed I didn't get to see you."

It takes a moment for him to catch up, still clearly trying to work out what he has done wrong to disappoint you, but the moment it clicks his face transforms into a wolfish grin.

"Well, give me half an hour and I'll show you anything you want," he winks. "For now I guess I'll go back to admiring you." His eyes flicker once more down your body, surveying you like prey.

It makes your pussy clench.

"You really mean it don't you?" You whisper as he tilts his head in question. "You do like me the way I am?"

"I really mean it," he confirms seriously, "you are perfect."

He doesn't give you much time to think too hard about his confirmation, or really anything at all. Leaning back into you he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, clearly working on making you forget your own name.

You wrap one hand around the back of his neck, holding him to you as the other slips down his back to playfully squeeze his ass, drawing a low growl from the man above you.

Santiago is quick enough to get his revenge, slipping a hand between your bodies to brush his fingers against your clit.

You let out a gasp, and shudder with the over stimulation, as his fingers draw tight circles against your sensitive nub.

"You said half an hour," you practically whimper, unable to stop your hips canting up against his hand.

"For me. I didn't say you get a break." He smirks, slipping a finger into your wet heat, drawing another broken sound from you. "I want you to make those pretty sounds for me again… and again… and again."

-------------

If you enjoyed this please, please, reblog and tell me your thoughts! Reblogs and feedback are so important to content creators. It keeps us creating!

Special thank you to my patient, most lovely beta, who puts up with every smutty Santi thought that enters my brain @beldroxramscal

I no longer run a taglist. If you are 18+ please follow my blog and check the master list for updates. More fics are coming 👀

[the-little-ewok]

🥺🥺🥺 That's such a big complement for people to want to read it multiple times! Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed it!

Thank you so much for taking time out to reblog and comment 😘

I've never done a request before! Could you do tummy kisses with a plus size reader? I'm always down for nsfw but you decide where it goes! Please and thank you 😁

- @mandinlore

Every inch of you

Santiago Garcia X Plus size F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2300 (ish)

Warnings : Reader is plus size, Explicit, Oral (f- receiving), lack of body confidence, insecurities, love bites, one actual bite, quick fingering, soft Santi being soft. And I do mean soft. (Yea it's cliché. I have no regrets)

Prompt/Summary : Tummy kisses/ Santiago helps show you how perfect you are

A/N : Keep the prompts short, she says, ease yourself back into writing she says…. Hahahaha enjoy your 2k ;) I got carried away. @mandinlore

Also thank you for requesting plus size! As a curvy girl myself, I absolutely loved writing this!

Side note - if anyone (who has prompts outstanding or wants to send new requests) wants a specific reader (plus size, short girl, specific job etc) please don't feel shy about asking! I'll do my best to write it!

"Cariño, you gotta tell me what's wrong? We can take things slow if that's what you want. You already know you're in control here. But, is something else wrong?" Santi sighs, sitting back on the couch after you pushed him away, yet again, before things could go too far. You couldn't blame his reaction, not after you had been hot and cold for weeks now.

Everytime he had tried to take things further, into anything that involves you removing clothing, you had made excuses to stop. He'd always backed off without complaint, reassuring you that he'll wait until you're ready, but you know he's starting to suspect there's more that you're hiding. God damn over observant Santiago Garcia. His military training served him too well in that.

The truth was, it wasn't that you didn't want things to go too far. In fact, you wanted very much to have his body pressed up against yours, his mouth against your skin, his cock buried deep inside you.

But for that to happen he had to see your body. And that was what scared you the most.

"Hey." His voice, and his fingers gripping your chin, turning your face to force you to look at him, rips you from your thoughts.

Meeting his questioning gaze you're struck, and not for the first time, by how pretty he is. Especially now — hair tousled by your fingers, eyes bright with lust, lips kiss swollen, cheeks flushed.

It makes you want to drag him back down onto the couch and lose yourself in his kisses once more.

"Tell me where your head is at," he pleads, his gaze soft. "Whatever it is, we can talk about it.

"I don't want to take it slow," you whisper, swallowing hard, sliding your vision away from him, even as he holds your face. You focus your eyes on the coffee table, the empty glasses and half eaten snacks, the movie still playing quietly in the background. You had stopped watching some time ago when you caught him watching you more than the film.

"There's a but coming, right?" Santi prompts when you lapse into silence.

"It's just…"

It's just I don't want you to be disappointed.

It's just I don't look like your exes.

It's just I don't think you'll want me.

You trail off, struggling to find the words to explain your fears.

"It's just, what?" Santi presses, his tone still gentle as ever.

"Idontwantyoutoseeme," you mumble out quickly, flicking your eyes back to him for a split second before you look away again.

Santi lets out a sigh, although it's not one of impatience, or disappointment. It sounds more like he might be… relieved.

"That's what you're worried about? Jesus, you scared me." He gives a small chuckle, shaking his head as he takes your face in both his hands, which forces your gaze back to his. For a long moment, he studies you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"You are beautiful," he states simply before his hands drop to your waist and he shifts, leaning over you and guiding you back to lie down against the couch, once more taking up his position over you, nestling himself between your thighs.

"Have you noticed what you do to me?" He asks, hammering home his point by pressing the bulge in his pants up against your core, making you gasp, despite the anxiety coiled tight in your stomach.

"With my clothes on maybe," you mumble, unable to quiet the vicious thoughts still seeping through.

"I want to see you. I want to see all of you. You don't have to hide from me," he whispers against the shell of your ear, dipping his head to place a trail of kisses down your neck.

"I don't think you'll like what you see." Even as the fear builds you can't stop the moan that steals its way from your lips as he seals his lips against your neck, sucking a mark there.

"Can I be the judge of that?" He asks, leaning up on his arms to look at you. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Your response comes with no hesitation. You don't even have to think about it. You do, wholeheartedly, entirely, trust him. He's done more than enough to earn that trust from you.

"I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do, but please trust me when I say I will love every inch of you."

The sincerity in his voice makes tears prick your eyes.

You swallow hard, still arguing with the voice in the back of your mind that tells you you aren't good enough for him, that he won't want you.

Santiago waits patiently while you muddle through your thoughts.

After a long moment, what feels like a millennia of debating, you give him a nod, and watch his smile transform into one of absolute pride.

"If you're uncomfortable at any time, stop me, okay?" He requests, and you nod again, not trusting your voice not to waiver if you answered.

He captures your lips once more in a long, slow, passionate kiss. His tongue mapping out every corner of your mouth, sliding along yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, keeping you breathless.

This time when his hands begin to tug the hem of your shirt up, you don't stop him.

He unpeels each layer of your clothes carefully, waiting for you to relax before he moves on to the next, almost maddeningly slow in his actions. Still, you appreciate his patience.

When you're finally fully bared, what feels like an age later, he sits back, dropping your panties to the floor as his eyes roam the flesh laid out before him.

You feel sick, dizzy with anxiety, waiting for him to realise how bad you look, how much he doesn't want you, to make excuses for you to leave.

Santiago does none of those things.

Instead, he lets out a low groan.

"Shit, you are incredible."

You could almost think he was lying, just to make you feel better, but as you look up at him, his eyes hooded, pupils blown wide, licking his lips like you were a meal he's been waiting all day for, you could actually kid yourself into believing him.

You squirm under his unwavering gaze, your hands automatically going to cover your stomach, twisting away from him.

Santi`s eyebrows pull together in a deep frown, shaking his head.

"Don't do that. Don't ever do that again. Not with me," he scolds you softly as he pries your hands away from your body, pinning them down to the couch.

Leaning over you he captures your lips, his kisses tender and loving. His hands wander your body slowly, mapping each curve as he grinds himself against your core. Each slow roll of his hips pushes the zipper of his jeans up against your clit, drawing muffled moans from your lips. Each sound you make he swallows as though they were a vintage wine, something to be savoured.

"Want to make you feel good," he slurs, finally giving you a moment to breathe. "Can I make you feel good?"

Still unable to form words, you nod, probably a little too enthusiastically, causing Santi's eyes to crinkle as he grins.

"Yeah?" He confirms, moving his kisses down to your breasts, peppering them with soft brushes of his lips. "Baby gonna be good and let me kiss her all over?"

You can feel the slick wetness pooling between your legs, the heat blazing across your skin, the blood roaring in your ears, and the ever present anxiety nipping at your thoughts, a constant companion which never seems to quiet.

Well, that is until Santi bites your nipple, turning your yelp at the sharp pain, into a moan as he soothes it with his tongue.

After that, all your thoughts, good and bad, begin to get a little hazy.

"Mmmm I like that noise," he hums, lathering your other breast with the same attention, making you struggle to catch your breath with the pleasure he was already wringing from you.

As his kisses trail lower, his lips pressing against the plush of your stomach, you can't help but try to curl in on yourself, trying to hide as much as you can in the small space of the couch.

It's a pointless endeavour. Santi's mouth pays particular attention to every part you try to twist away, or subtly hide as you move your arms.

He spends an age trailing soft kisses all the way across your stomach, before working his way back to your naval, and then down, leaving tiny love bites in his wake. A trail marking you as his over all the places to hate, before he stops, head between your already trembling thighs, looking up at you.

When your eyes meet his, he grins before he dips his head, holding your gaze as he thrusts his tongue deep inside you.

Your head slams back against the arm of the couch, your eyes squeezing shut, the image of his face buried in your pussy blazing behind your eyelids. You choke back a moan as his tongue loops up around your clit, before back down to taste you again.

"Keep making noises like that and we're going to have a problem," he warns, warm breath fanning out across your already heated skin, making you squirm with the stimulation.

You have no idea what problem he's talking about, and as his tongue slides through your folds, up to circle your clit a second time, you really couldn't care less about it either.

Your back arches as you chase the warm pleasure of his mouth, a groan of his name falling from your lips. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts on your pussy like a starved man.

Curses and praises fall freely from your lips, accompanied by whimpers and moans as he expertly coaxes you closer and closer to the edge, all your anxieties silenced by the overwhelming pleasure that stops you from concentrating on anything else.

Santi groans, a noise that vibrates through your entire core, and pushes you dangerously close to the edge. When one of his hands disappears from your thigh, you can't help but open your eyes to glance down at him, your breath catching.

His eyes are closed, a look of pure bliss you haven't seen before on his face, as his tongue laps languidly at your slick cunt, while he palms his hard cock through his pants.

You throw your head back once more with a whine, unable to continue to watch him as he chooses that moment to seal his lips over your clit and suck, hard.

The vision of him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat of his mouth, is too much, and you come undone with a strangled cry, your body trembling, and your vision going white as the pleasure crests and crashes over you.

Even through the roaring noise of blood in your ears, and the way your orgasm makes your mind fuzzy, you still catch the tail end of Santiago's gasped curse, followed by a low, broken groan. You can't help but think it sounds suspiciously like….

You don't even get to fully finish the thought before your body shudders in desire. That couldn't be the case when you haven't even touched him.

Then again the look on his face before…

When you can finally feel your limbs again you lean up on your elbows to look down your body at him, as he, somewhat awkwardly, sits back on his heels, a wet patch blooming out on his pants.

"Santi…did you…?" You swallow, trailing off as he looks somewhat abashed.

"Um, yeah," he admits, an unmistakable blush forming on his cheeks.

"Because of….me?" You ask quietly, feeling a strange sense of pride that, even as you are, you were able to do that to him.

"Oh, enjoying this, are we?" Santi laughs teasingly, relaxing a little when he sees your wide eyed surprise and the smile you're trying to bite down.

Putting his arms either side of you, he cages you in, as he runs his nose up the length of your neck. Even the lightest of touches makes your body shiver with desire.

"Maybe…a bit," you admit, a little distractedly as he places a kiss below your ear, pressing his body against yours, clearly knowing exactly what he's doing to you.

"Good," he mumbles into your skin. "Although next time I cum I want to be buried inside you."

He whispers it so sinfully low in your ear, you swear you could cum again just from his words.

Your breath catches and you can feel Santiago's smug smile against your neck, where he's still busy pressing soft kisses.

"I'm a little bit disappointed though," you manage to swallow out, trying to ignore the way his hand is skimming across your sweat damp skin, down the outside of your thigh, before slowly working its way back up.

Santi pulls back to look at you so quickly, you're surprised he doesn't put his back out.

"Disappointed?"

You can't quite tell if it's outrage or concern, that laces his tone, but whichever it is, you can't stop the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, only making him frown more deeply.

"Cariño," he starts, stopping when you put a hand over his mouth to interrupt him.

"I'm disappointed I didn't get to see you."

It takes a moment for him to catch up, still clearly trying to work out what he has done wrong to disappoint you, but the moment it clicks his face transforms into a wolfish grin.

"Well, give me half an hour and I'll show you anything you want," he winks. "For now I guess I'll go back to admiring you." His eyes flicker once more down your body, surveying you like prey.

It makes your pussy clench.

"You really mean it don't you?" You whisper as he tilts his head in question. "You do like me the way I am?"

"I really mean it," he confirms seriously, "you are perfect."

He doesn't give you much time to think too hard about his confirmation, or really anything at all. Leaning back into you he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, clearly working on making you forget your own name.

You wrap one hand around the back of his neck, holding him to you as the other slips down his back to playfully squeeze his ass, drawing a low growl from the man above you.

Santiago is quick enough to get his revenge, slipping a hand between your bodies to brush his fingers against your clit.

You let out a gasp, and shudder with the over stimulation, as his fingers draw tight circles against your sensitive nub.

"You said half an hour," you practically whimper, unable to stop your hips canting up against his hand.

"For me. I didn't say you get a break." He smirks, slipping a finger into your wet heat, drawing another broken sound from you. "I want you to make those pretty sounds for me again… and again… and again."

-------------

If you enjoyed this please, please, reblog and tell me your thoughts! Reblogs and feedback are so important to content creators. It keeps us creating!

Special thank you to my patient, most lovely beta, who puts up with every smutty Santi thought that enters my brain @beldroxramscal

I no longer run a taglist. If you are 18+ please follow my blog and check the master list for updates. More fics are coming 👀