#santiago garcia fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anitalenia · 2 months

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━━ 𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒎 𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒔 pt. 4

━━ 𝒇𝒓𝒐��𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 / 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔. the frontier boys as random tropes. ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ part one | part two | part three

┊┊✧ ⁺ 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ Pope, Will, Benny, Frank x fem!Reader

┊┊✧ ⁺ 𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓼 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ ceo!Pope x assistant!Reader, lumberjack!Will x bimbo!Reader, bartender!Benny x fem!Reader, step dad!Frank x step daughter!Reader

┊┊✧ ⁺ 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ sexual content, implied smut, graphic depictions of sexual acts, fantasized sexual content, blowjobs, depictions of fingering, pussy eating, inappropriate family dynamics you definitely shouldn’t partake in, inappropriate work relationships that you definitely shouldn’t do in real life (unless you want to purrrr💅🏻), a little long just cause I haven’t made one in a while, slight dark content in Franks section

┊┊✧ ⁺ 𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ sorry for the wait with this series, people really loved it actually, more than I thought they would. The begging for another part finally got to me, so here you go!!!! Hope you enjoy while I work on the next one 😭

━━ SANTIAGO ‘POPE’ GARCIA ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

CEO! SANTIAGO ⊹₊˚

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 desk in those cute little skirts and too tight dresses, always so busy and always so beautiful. He liked to stare out at you from his private office with a semi hard cock in his black slacks; a perfect view of your desk and the best view of you.

He could never get any work done of course, not properly anyway, too busy thinking about you and all the things you’d do for him if he asked. You always did what he asked, so eager to work and so eager to please. You, you with those black stiletto heels and those pink pouty lips, you, you with your sweet voice and your round hips — begging to be fucked good.

Nngh, just you.

He liked to call you into his office for no real reason other than his own selfish desires; he liked to see your hips sway when you walked and stare at your soft tits when you’d lean over — it’s what really got him through the tough days.

He loved to hear your soft giggles and see your cheeks go pink when he’d say something scandalously sly, something a ceo definitely shouldn’t say to their assistant, something a boss definitely shouldn’t say to their employee.

He’d take you on business meetings and lavish business trips, invite you to expensive business dinners and elite business parties, it was always business, business, business. He wanted more than that, wanted to take you out for real and show you how much of a gentleman he could be if you’d give him the chance.

Mainly, he wanted to show you how good he could fuck you, much better than any man could, show you how well he knew your body in ways you even didn’t, in ways no man did.

He’d have to clench his fists and hold himself back from fucking you on his very desk with his blinds open for all the horny temps to see — the ones who could never seem to leave you and your beauty alone, the ones who gawked at you in the break room, the ones whose grimy hands lingered on your arm for just a little too long…

That always pissed him off, having to see those puny fanboys of yours charade around your desk like prissy princesses and fight for your attention — it was pathetic and obnoxious. He couldn’t fire them like he wanted to though (unfortunately), too many lawsuits already being filed against him that he was too rich to really care about.

He had lawyers for that shit anyway.

Santiago, or Santi as he’s made you call him now, liked to watch you talk. He loved hearing your voice, seeing the way your lips moved and sparkled with gloss as you rambled on about some company he supposedly owned, pacing his office as he sat in his chair with his dick hard under his desk.

He’d clench his jaw and picture how those lips would look wrapped around his thick cock, your lipstick leaving stains all over him that he could admire later — maybe he’d even have you under his desk during meetings, sitting right between his legs with your lipstick smeared over your cheeks, and a sweet mix of your saliva and his cum dripping down his balls —

“Are you even listening to me?” You’d always scold him with your arms crossed over your chest when you’d notice his blank stare, pushing your tits up and giving him yet another fantasy he couldn’t get his mind off of.

He’d quickly snap out of whatever trance he was in, eyes flickering from your tits to your face, intense and twinkling — really thinking he was slick enough that you wouldn’t notice it. Then he’d let out a husky chuckle, his hand subtly palming his cock as he’d say, “Of course I am.”

You’d just roll your eyes and continue talking, oblivious to his arousal as he’d stare at your ass, your lips, your legs, his hungry eyes running up and down the length of your perfect body until he was so hard he physically couldn’t stand it.

But that was the norm for him.

For any other girl he had everything — the money, the power, the cars, the looks. He could’ve had literally any other girl he wanted yet he wanted you, yet he couldn’t have you.

You were so professional, always did your job perfectly and always did the right thing, the perfect assistant, the perfect employee, the perfect woman. Why, why, couldn’t you be one of those dumb slutty assistants who he didn’t give a damn about? The ones who didn’t bother to hide the fact that they were a slut, the ones who’d drop everything and suck his dick if he asked, even if he didn’t ask.

But no, you were you and you were so damn different from that and really, that made him want you even more. The fact that you weren’t a dumb girl but a mature woman, as flawless and elegant as rose petals and wine. He wanted you to break out of that persona, see your strong facade crack and crumble for him, for his love, for his cock.

He wanted to see that perfect red lipstick smeared over your tear stained cheeks, see that tight pussy gaping and wet and begging for him, see those lacy panties wrapped around your ankles as he’d fuck you hard and fast before a business meeting in just the way he knew you’d like, just hard enough so everyone could see the stumble in your walk and the tears in your eyes.

One day he was going to have that, one day. But for now he was just gonna have to stick with the lustful stares during crowded meetings and the not-so-innocent fantasies when you’d poke into his office.

One day he’d have you, one day… but for now he was satisfied with jerking his dick off in his office at the sweet smell of your lingering perfume. For now he was okay with imagining to throw you on his desk and fucking your brains out when you’d deliver his coffee in the mornings, his lunch in the afternoon, his dinner in the evenings… all the while staring at you from behind his computer with his dick so achingly hard he couldn’t focus on a damn thing.

All right, he wasn’t okay with it but what choice did he have? Bosses shouldn’t fuck their assistants, but damn, he couldn’t wait to break his own rule and see how easily he could make a good girl turn bad.

━━ WILL ‘IRONHEAD’ MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

LUMBERJACK! WILL ⊹₊˚

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 where you went. It was inevitable really; a pretty girl like you, wearing those pink skirts like you did, wearing those 6-inch heels like you did, wearing those tight tops like you did, in a town like this? It was really no wonder why you always got stared at.

It was just unfortunate that you were too dumb to notice that he was no better than the countless men that gawked at you, he was just better at hiding it.

You were the bosses daughter — dangerously beautiful and utterly unattainable (spoiled rotten too). You were a walking, talking Barbie in pink dresses and pretty purses; a pink, glittering ditzy princess who carelessly walked around the muddy work site in those cute heels of yours — William believed you were too beautiful to walk around in the filth.

You were the sweetest little thing he had ever met too — a butterfly in a battlefield — so giggly and cheery it drove him insane. The sound of your voice in his ears, your laugh, twinkling and sweet like sparkling water; he could only imagine how good you’d sound underneath him as he drove his cock into you nice and slow so you felt every vein, every ridge, every curve hitting that spot inside you that made you squeal.

Your father was a good man, had hired Will in a desperate time when he needed someone — something, constant. Ever since then Will had always been the best employee. He was the first hire and the only one to stay when things got tough. He put in the most hours, doing the most work, being the best lumberjack he could be for your father in repayment of his kindness. So for that reason Will had earned your father’s respect in more ways than one — for being patient, hardworking, loyal.

So sometimes Will would feel bad when he’d sneak into the bathroom after a rather short conversation with you; he’d slam the stall door closed and whip out his throbbing cock to relief some of the tension you had so dim wittingly caused.

He’d fuck his fist at the thought of you bent over the break room table he had left you at, cute mini skirt flipped up and giving him a perfect view of that pretty pussy he only prayed to see. He knew it was gorgeous, knew it’d be just as pretty as you, knew he’d be fucking addicted at the first taste.

Will was patient, level headed, a loyal worker who’d never betray your fathers trust… but he’d picture thrusting his thick fingers inside you slowly and carefully, smearing cum over your warm hole and feel your wetness drip down his palm as you begged him to go faster — a pretty pink mess all for him.

He'd imagine throwing your cute little ass against a tree and wrapping your smooth legs around his waist when he was supposed to be working, telling you to be a good girl for him as he'd grope your tits and hear your needy whimpers.

He’d hold you against him as he’d push his hard cock inside your tight little pussy once you begged him enough, listen to your gasps as he’d stretch you out in ways you’d never been stretched before. He'd be sure to cover your mouth with his calloused, work torn hands to muffle your screams, have you claw his chiseled back with those glossy pink nails of yours until he bled.

He’d make you cum around his cock as he whispered every filthy thing he could think of in your ear, hear you whine and whimper and leave bruises in the sweet spots only he got to see; your father would be down the hill confused on where the both of you had gone.

He’d squirt all over his hand and thighs once he was done, panting and hissing from the pleasure pulsing through his body. He knew you were right outside those doors too, right where he left you in the break room, sipping on an ice coffee — completely oblivious.

Will would take a long while to clean himself up after that, the guilt burrowing heavy in his tummy knowing your father’s office was right down the hall. He wouldn’t dare look in that direction, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to look your father in the eye for a good hour.

He’d walk out the bathroom as inconspicuously as possible and put his hands in his coat pockets, walk back into the break room like nothing had happened, like he didn’t want to fuck your brains out right then and there, and he’d lean against the door frame and give you the most charming, innocent smile you dotingly believed.

“Hey, darlin’.”

You’d look up from your phone startled, your tits spilling out of your pink top and the plushness of your thighs flared out on the bench. Your hair was shiny and glittery with cute hair clips on each side, your makeup done so prettily and perfectly he just wanted to ruin it. You looked so damn good Will couldn’t help but take a minute to admire you some more, his eyes running over you hotly, but too subtly for you to notice.

“Oh, hey, where did you go? You said 5 minutes…” You teasingly pouted up at him with those glossy, twinkling lips of yours like you weren’t making this hard enough as it was.

You’d giggle and smile at him — making his heart churn and dick stir. He’d be entranced by your tits jiggling as you did, covered in glittery perfume and smelling of vanilla and strawberries.

So fucking delicious.

Then you’d wrap those same lips around your pink straw and take another sip of your iced coffee.

God damn those lips of yours… Will would go in a daze at the image of you on your knees for him, your lipgloss smeared over your cheeks as you’d suck his swollen cock head into your mouth, patiently waiting for him to say you could take more. Sparkly pink lip stains marked over his dick and balls… it was his dream.

Will knew he was bigger than you too, in a lot of ways, was reminded of if every time you stood next to his hulking form in those cute heels of yours that still didn’t manage to reach him. He was a 6’0 mass of muscle and brawn, carved from brick and forged from stone and way too rough around the edges to handle a delicate thing like you — it’d be like putting a pretty flower petal in the brazen hands of a giant. He wasn’t sure he could have you and not ruin you.

But god damn he’d fucking try. He’d be so delicate and tender with you in ways he’s never been with another woman. He’d cherish every scar and blemish on your smooth skin and treat you like the princess you so clearly were. He’d kiss you from head to toe and lap at your pussy like a poor man worshipping a goddess — he’d be oh so lucky.

He was big, yes, but he promised he wouldn’t crush you. He was rough, yes, but even a pretty girl like you liked having a rough hand wrapped around her throat. You’d be a pretty pink angel wrapped in his gray cotton sheets, held between his mundane, trauma stained hands.

He was manly and burly, all flannel jackets and tree stained jeans and you were girly and feminine, all short skirts and glittering strawberry lipgloss. You two didn’t work in a conventional sense but nothing about his life or yours was conventional.

Your father was a good man and William was a good worker, the best employee, the best lumberjack. He was patient and so loyal, fully aware he was risking his livelihood by wanting you but yet he was left wanting anyway. You were too cute and bouncy and he needed you to bounce on his cock more than he needed a job.

He wanted to see you bare for him — bare in heart, mind, and soul because he knew there was more to you than meets the eye. There was more of you to discover beyond the pink masses and he wanted to be the one that discovered it, the one that you trusted enough to show it to. He wanted to see the real you bared to him in the middle of the night with the beautiful afterglow of what you two had just done shining on your skin — your most organic, happiest form.

“Ah, William, I see you’re keeping my girl company? I hope she’s not keeping you, she’s a chatterbox.” Your father laughed and smacked a hand on Will’s shoulder, suddenly popping up in the doorway like Will had conjured him with his guilt. A thud sounded from the smack and Will felt his shoulder sting, completely shaken out of his fantasy now.

He looked at your father and laughed that charming laugh — I want to fuck your daughter more than I need air to breath sir but no she’s not a problem at all.

━━ BENJAMIN ‘BENNY’ MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

BARTENDER! BENNY ⊹₊˚

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 it almost angered you. Every Saturday night the club was packed with women just hoping Benny the Bartender would look their way… it was pathetic, if you didn’t do the exact same thing.

It was routine for you, the only thing you really looked forward to in your long weeks of monotonous work and errands — Benny was new, exciting, and so fucking hot you blushed at just the mere thought of him.

He was so charming too, so good at his job by simply just existing you could see why the company had hired him. With just one dazzling smile the whole room swooned and came, even you, who so pathetically tried to act hard to get at the corner of the bar with your lonely margarita you only ever ordered — you needed to be somewhat tipsy to actually have the confidence to talk to him.

You’d wear your sexiest dresses, your cutest shoes, have your hair done pristinely and your makeup done perfectly all in hopes of Benny noticing you — you were almost ashamed that you valued his attention that much.

You’d sit by yourself, alone, at the end of the bar staring at him while he worked, staring at his face and body and just picturing him fucking you on this very bar with his snapback still on his head, his hands gripping your thighs, your hips, your tits, anywhere his greedy hands could leave their mark on.

He’d wear baseball tees and black t-shirts that clung perfectly to his abs and muscles — you even heard a rumor that he was in an underground fighting ring that gave him all those muscles and scars in the first place. The thought aroused you incredibly and you couldn’t stop from fluttering your eyes at him more than usual that night.

He seldom never wore his snapback, and while you loved seeing his full face you couldn’t deny how much you loved the nights when he left his hat at home more.

He’d have his dirty blonde hair slicked back out of his face but yet there was always that one rebelling strand that fell over his eyes when he was working… it drove you insane. And the way he’d run his fingers through his hair when he was in the middle of a busy service, the way your own hands could pull it when he was laid between your legs, nibbling on your thighs and bringing you to such an ecstasy you’ve never experienced.

He was such a natural flirt too, professional to a limit when it came to all the women fawning over him over the bar, their tits falling out of their dresses and their lips over lined with lipstick. He’d laugh that boisterous laugh of his, take shots with them like he wasn’t on the clock, and he’d charm the panties right off them and the money right out of their purses by the time he was done.

You couldn’t say you weren’t jealous.

Benny, on the other hand, was all too aware of the pretty girl at the end of the bar who never seemed to bring anyone but her credit card. He was all too aware of her pretty eyes and pretty lips and perfect set of tits in those skimpy dresses she’d always wear.

And honestly, since the first night he saw you he’s wanted you.

He’d flirt with you all the time in that southern accent of his that charmed all the ladies, but you never seemed to register it, or in other words, you never seemed to care.

You were nothing like the women he dealt with every night — you would roll your eyes when he’d tell you how happy he was to see you again, purse your lips when he complimented your makeup, and seem totally disinterested in him and whatever nonsense he had to say.

And he fucking loved it.

You didn’t fawn over him like the others girls did, you didn’t seem to buy into the whole charming bartender shtick he portrayed either. You were quiet and beautiful and sharp; you never seemed too desperate or eager for him like everyone else. Sure, he loved the attention from other women, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t, but the fact that he never seemed to have yours made him want you even more.

He’d flirt with you whenever he got the chance to, knew your drink of choice by heart now and was always there to fill it back up when it was empty. He was attentive to your needs and he swore he could be just as attentive in other settings if you gave him the chance.

You’d just sit there in the shadows, skin flashing blue and black from the lights of the club and looking so damn fine Benny wished he could drag you into the bathroom and fuck your brains out on the door, feel the music pumping through your veins as you stuck your tongue in his mouth until all he tasted was you and liqueur.

It’d be fast and hot and he wouldn’t be able to breath in anything but you and margarita salt but it sounded perfect. His big hand wrapped around your throat as people knocked on the door like you two weren’t busy. He’d try to muffle your moans for your sake but he’d also decide he liked hearing them more. It’d be cramped and intimate and it would certainly leave him breathless but god damn that sounded like just what he needed right now.

He’d be drunk on you, the taste of you, the smell of you, the feel of you wrapped around him so tight — the mysterious girl he could never seem to break through to no matter how many times he tried. Sometimes, Benny even felt like giving up — you clearly didn’t want him like he wanted you.

But then, at some point during the night when you were two margaritas in and your eyes were starting to get hazy, he’d look over at you and you’d be giving him the hottest, most seductive look he’s ever seen. It makes his heart pound and skin prickle, his cock ache for something.

It was the kind of look where your eyelashes would flutter and you’d stare up at him with a delectable little smirk on your face, a look that screamed take me now, take me on this bar and show everyone what you’re capable of, show these other bitches you only want me.

And he fucking wished he could. It was that look that kept him going, that look that gave him hope.

And you wanted him to do just that. To leave bruises on your skin and taint your body with himself, to leave his mark on your pussy and soul and be so deep inside you you weren’t sure where his body began and your pleasure ended, just that you needed more, more, more of it.

But Benny assumed that was the game you two liked to play — to show up every Saturday night with the expectation that one of you was going to finally make a move on the other. To see who would crack first, give in to the temptation the both of you so clearly desired but neither were confident enough to admit.

Benny, the sexy bartender obsessed with the mysterious girl who barely gave him the time of day.

You, the girl at the end of the bar wishing Benny would just take the initiative and fuck her already.

And to think, Benny did want you, wanted you so fucking badly, only you. You’re the one that he even bothered to show off for anyway; flipping bottles, being quick on his feet, being better than anyone else cause he knew you were the one watching.

He made a soulful promise to both you and him that one of these nights you’re gonna give him that damned look one more time and he’s not gonna have a choice but to prove to you why you shouldn’t start things you don’t intend to finish.

━━ FRANK ‘CATFISH’ MORALES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

STEP DAD! FRANK ⊹₊˚

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐇𝐞’𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 for a good year and a half before he met you, the young and beautiful daughter of the woman he supposedly loved.

You were grown, well, grown enough; a beautiful woman with dreams and ambitions, goals for her life that he couldn’t help but admire. But you also had this delectable snark you certainly didn’t get from your mother, an attitude that made anything remotely good about you pale in comparison — it drove him mad.

He hated to act like a father to you because he wasn’t your father — you were in your 20s anyway, it was too late for him to be anything other than Frank. He was just an older man in your life set to wed your mother, yet he really only had eyes for you, his beautiful step daughter he certainly shouldn’t be fantasizing about when he was fucking your mother.

You were bratty and mean, always rolled your eyes at him and walked off right in the middle of him talking to you; you wore those short shorts he despised (loved more than he should have) and those dresses that clung just a little too tight to your body for his liking. You were disobedient and rude, but so fucking sexy he was left torn between his desires and morals.

You never cared what he had to say about anything, never bothered to listen to his rules, and never bothered to wear some god damn house appropriate shorts that didn’t shove your round ass into his face every time he walked past you.

He imagined bending you over his knee and pulling your shorts off you, gently sliding your pink panties down your thighs, then spanking your ass, hard, like the disobedient brat you were until his handprints were etched into your skin, until you were sniffling and moaning for him to stop, until you had finally learned some respect.

He wondered if you’d get wet from that simple act alone: maybe your childish attitude was all a front, an act, to really piss him off to his limits and see how far you could push him until he broke. Maybe you wanted to be punished by him, be spanked raw, be fucked hard, until tears were streaming in your pretty little eyes and you were sobbing your apologizes to him instead of running your mouth.

As a matter of fact he should do just that; with all the times you’d “accidentally” leave the door open when you were showering and your mother had gone shopping, just you and Frank and the sizzling tension between you left to fend for itself. He was a gentleman at heart but no man could deny the allure of such a pretty body like yours covered in water.

He should shove your face into his pillow and fuck you from behind so you didn’t have to see his face like he knew you’d want to. He’d hold your hands behind your back and pound you until you cried for him to stop, to go faster, that it hurts, but you fucking wanted more.

You’d probably be a squirter too, all mean girls like you were when they got stripped down to the bare parts of themselves, where they couldn’t hide behind their own insolence and were touched by the experienced hands of an older man.

Frank was a patient man, a very patient man. It took a lot to drive him over the edge but yet you always seemed to know just what to say and just what to do to really push his buttons.

Your bedroom door wide open as you changed out of your bra, your perky tits all smooth and round for him to ogle at through the hallway, your music blasting through the whole house when he was trying to get some god damn sleep, bringing over your stupid little boyfriends into his house and letting them fuck you under his roof — it was all reason enough for him to punish you.

And no, Frank wasn’t jealous. He was a grown man, what did he have to be jealous about? He wasn’t jealous when he’d hear your moans sound through the whole house, the headboard banging on the wall, the giggles you’d try to hide as you’d walk them out the door. It was pathetic. Those boys could never fuck you like he could and he knew it. He was not jealous.

You were a bad girl, a naughty girl, and he didn’t like pretty little girls who thought they knew better than him.

You never showed him any gratitude, or appreciation for taking you and your mother in when he didn’t have to, you never thanked him when he made you a hot meal, and you never listened when he’d say put gas back in my car if you use it.

He basically let you do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. There was no structure, no rhyme or reason to anything you did and he’d be damned if he was going to let a spoiled brat like you make his life any harder than it needed to be.

Your mother was an angel, all kisses and kind words and that’s why he loved her in the first place. He had plans to marry her and live a great life with her. Even when she mentioned a daughter Frank didn’t worry, he imagined an adorable little toddler with big doe eyes and a kind heart just like her mother. But then he met you, and you were no kid, and you were certainly no fucking angel.

You were a soul sucking succubus sent from the depths of hell to tempt him, to make him fail yet another marriage. You were young and he knew it was wrong to despise you yet simultaneously want you so fucking badly. He wanted you out of his house, but he also wanted you on your knees and gagging around his cock. He wanted you to shut up for once, but he also wanted you to scream his name until the neighbors knew it.

It was certainly complicated and contradicting, and with his wedding on the way he really didn’t need anything going wrong. But, he figured, if he married your mother at least he would always be around to keep you in line, right?

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flightlessangelwings · 6 months

Text

Ktober 2023 Day 16- Lap Dance

Santiago Garcia x fem!reader

Word count- 1.6k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), sexworker reader (respectfully), reader wears a sparkly bra and thigh highs, slapping, riding, protective!Santi, pining, one mention of Santi's round ass lol, no use of y/n

Notes- This is so on brand for me it's not even funny lol. And I definitely had fun writing this one! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

Music pulsed through the club as Santiago Garcia made his way in. Flashing lights highlighted the silhouettes of the girls who danced on the stage, and there was glitter everywhere. Santi gave them a glance and a smile as he made his way to the bar; there was only one person he looked forward to seeing when he came here.

And his heart pounded in his chest when he laid his eyes on you. Your back was turned to him, but he knew your ass anywhere. The skimpy outfit complimented your figure, accentuating your features, and he couldn’t help but stare as you leaned forward slightly to reach for a drink to place on your tray.

Santiago cleared his throat before he sauntered up to you, leaning in to murmur in your ear, “Looking good tonight, baby.”

You gasped for a moment before you recognized the voice. Your face softened as you turned to him, and you took a moment to admire his handsome features, “Santi…” you breathed as a smile lit up your face. But your tone dropped as you shimmied your shoulders, “What brings you back here tonight?”

He smirked as he rested a hand on your hip, “I think you know, baby,” he purred in your ear as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

Heat rose under your skin and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, “Your usual, then?” you bat your eyes at him.

Santi nodded, his gaze burning into you.

“Wait here,” you told him, “I gotta deliver these drinks then I’ll get someone to cover for me.”

Reluctantly, Santiago let go of you and his eyes never left you as you made your way through the crowd to the private tables. His fist clenched as he watched the way the men who sat there oogled you, and a sense of pride blossomed in his chest when you slapped a wandering hand off of your backside. You even used a wrist lock move that he taught you. Of course, Santiago wouldn’t hesitate to jump in if you needed him, but you had it handled and you walked away before he even had a chance to move.

“Follow me,” you slid a hand into his when you made your way back to him, “Let’s get some privacy.”

“Right behind you,” Santi cooed, “Wouldn’t want to miss the view.”

You laughed, “Your view ain’t bad either, Santi.”

He ran his thumb across your hand as you led him into the private rooms and shut the door. Knowing the routine, Santi sat in the chair in the middle of the small space as you turned on some music. Without another word, you swayed to the music as you made your way back to where he sat.

You straddled his lap, holding onto his shoulders as you moved your hips to the beat. You knew what you were doing as you kept yourself hovered over him, just brushing down to tease him once every few sways. It drove Santi wild, and he always craved more. He rested his hands on your hips to guide your movements gently; you were still in control for now.

“I missed you,” you admitted in a soft tone as you grinded your hips against his lap, “It’s been a while since you’ve been in.”

“I know, baby,” Santi ran his eyes up and down your body, “Shit happened.”

You pushed yourself up and turned around, rubbing your ass against Santi’s torso instead. Looking over your shoulder, you asked, “Want to talk about it?”

A flash of a frown glazed over his face. Santi didn’t want to be upset right now, not when he cradled your ass in his hands, “No,” he said plainly, “I just want you right now, baby.” Before he thought twice about it, Santi slapped your ass, pulling a moan from deep in your throat.

“Fuck,” you breathed as you turned back around and straddled his lap once more. This time, you lowered your body more against him, grinding your body against his quickly hardening cock.

Santiago wrapped his arms around you, yanking you even closer against his body. In a flash, he crashed his lips against yours in a desperate and heated kiss. You moaned into him as you rocked your body against his, only this time you lost the rhythm from being so consumed by his kiss.

“Baby,” he murmured against your lips.

Breaking away, you blinked your eyes open to meet his gaze, and your heart skipped a beat at the way he looked at you. He was different from anyone else, and it wasn’t just his handsome face. You felt safe with Santi, and he always left you wanting more, when it should have been the other way around. What you didn’t know was how badly he craved you as well.

You whimpered as you lifted yourself enough to reach for his zipper. With excerpt precision from your occupation, you single-handedly opened his zipper and pulled out and length. A fire ignited behind your eyes as you pumped is cock a few times, and watched as he lost his composure for a moment.

“Shit baby,” Santi groaned.

You exhaled sharply with a grin as you squeezed his cock harder, thoroughly enjoying the way he turned into a mess under your touch, “You like that, Santi?” you purred.

“Yes,” he breathed, “But you know what I want,” he added, regaining his composure as you let go of his cock.

“I know,” you cooed as you ran your fingers through his curls, “I want you too, Santi.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he watched you quickly strip yourself. He slipped off his shirt, desperate for as much skin to skin contact as he could get.

When you sat back down on his lap, you had nothing on but your thigh highs and tiny sparkly bra, something Santiago loved. He groaned as he cupped your breasts while you rocked your folds along his length.

“Santi…” you moaned as you held onto his shoulders, a jolt of electricity pulsing through you the moment you touched his skin.

“You ready, baby?” he asked in a low tone.

“Please,” you begged as you adjusted yourself to line up with his cock, “Santi…”

Perhaps a little too quickly, you sat yourself down in his lap once more, this time with his cock deep inside you. In one swift movement, Santiago was suddenly buried in your pussy, and both of you gasped loudly. You collapsed into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“You alright, baby?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good,” he growled as he bucked his hips up into you, causing you to moan into his shoulder.

Finding your rhythm once more, you lifted yourself up to meet his gaze and rocked your body in time with his. Together the two of you found a beat all your own as you writhed against each other on the chair.

“Fuck,” you both breathed at the same time.

“I’ve missed this pussy,” Santi growled, “Missed you.”

Your mouth dropped open as his cock hit that sweet spot deep inside you, “Santi… Fuck…”

“Cum for me, baby,” he sped up his thrusts from underneath you, groaning as you dug your nails into his skin.

The room spun as your climax hit without warning, and your limbs trembled as you came hard. You gushed against your bodies as he pounded into you from below, talking you through your orgasm until his own hit. With just a few more thrusts, Santiago came deep inside you, shivering and groaning your name as he spilled himself inside you.

When you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer, you fell forward into Santiago’s strong chest, and he caught you without hesitation. Together, you breathed heavily as you both came down from your highs, still connected together as you sat on the chair.

“You ok, baby?” he asked as he ran his fingers up and down your back.

“Perfect,” you murmured with a smile as you closed your eyes contently.

As much as you wanted to stay here like this with Santiago, you couldn’t be gone long, you were still at work after all. With a reluctant grumble, you pushed yourself up, watching with awe as Santiago’s softening cock slid out of you. He reached for his shirt as you dressed yourself. You hated that your time with him was limited, but such was the nature of your occupation.

Santiago hated it just as much as you did. “Those guys give you any trouble earlier?” he asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you replied as you turned back to him, “Just some guys who have trouble with the no touching rule.”

He frowned, “How about I stick around for a bit and make sure those assholes keep their hands to themselves,” and off my girl, he added in his head. Santi knew you knew what came with your job. He was fine with it, but he also wanted to make sure you were safe and alright. That was more important to him than anything else.

Your face softened, “I’d like that.”

He stood and cupped your face, “If you want,” he started as his lips hovered over yours, “I can take you home tonight too.” Santi couldn’t take it any longer, and he took his shot.

You closed the gap between your lips as you clung to him, “I’d like that too,” you repeated in a low tone, “I was waiting for you to ask me that.”

Santiago almost couldn’t believe your reply, but he had never been happier nonetheless, “Good,” his tone dropped, “Then I can show you what I can really do… when I can take my time with you.”

“Can’t wait,” you smiled widely as you kissed him again.

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sweetly-yours-and-mine · 1 year

Note

Could I request a little ‘A got roped into a blind date by their friends. They don't want a new relationship and plan to make themselves as unlikeable as possible to dissuade any further possible setups. All of that goes through the window when they see how gorgeous B is.’ with Santi as person A

(if you get this twice I’m sorry I can’t remember if I sent this irl or not because I saw the post when I was hazy and delusional at 2 AM)

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

Word Count: 912

A/N: Just opened up my askbox for some requests! First time writing for Santi, very very excited about this one! (And don't worry ab requesting twice, hun! It was a very inspiring prompt)

Warnings: fluff, santi thinks he's unlovable, a bit angsty ig?, frankie morales is a good bro, poorly edited (author has BDE)

Santiago really didn’t do the whole dating thing.

The flowers and the small-talk and the footsies over cheese-stuffed appetisers.

He had a long-term relationship with running away, that strange, filtered aeroplane air making him feel closer to home than any of his mother’s cooking could ever hope to do.

Better put, he wasn’t relationship material.

It wasn’t a deliberate choice from his end.

It sort of just…happened.

Life had morphed Santiago into the jagged, crooked, ugly thing that he was now.

In all of his attempts (three) at the real thing, all his tries at the dart board called love, it usually always ended in the same fashion. He’d take her to meet his friends, she’d realise sooner than later that she’d drawn the losing hand out of the four of them, and it was downhill from there.

One of them had been kind enough even to enlighten him to exactly what he lacked.

You just need to be more…Frankie, Santi.

Though it hurt, it was good to get out in the open like that. The plain, mumpy truth, in all its glory:

Santiago wasn’t relationship material because of the amount of ‘Frankie-ness’ that was lacking in his blood and DNA, because he was the losing hand, the cracked skipping stone in the middle of a torrential river on the way to the safety of land and love, true love.

And so, in what would be considered a sociologist’s dream case study, Santiago did what he did best, self-fulfilled then self-destructed.

He was the intermediary for girls before they managed to find their Frankie, Benny, Will.

It was a tough truth to chew, left a bitter taste in his mouth, that he’d only been created for people to recognize their self-worth and move on. There was a disagreeable insinuation behind it, if he thought about it too long.

Which was precisely why he didn’t.

And he ran away instead when things got too hard, too painful. Like a thumbtack in the heel of his foot.

But Frankie on the other hand, Frankie thought about it long and hard. Too hard and too long, no matter how often Santiago told him to quit it.

From his seat behind the driver’s wheel, Frankie was able to watch everything with a keen, honed eye, his two ears moving back and forth like a great-horned owl’s.

And nothing was able to go past Frankie’s eyes without him picking it up and giving it a thorough inspection.

Which is why Frankie's been adamant about it. A real pain in the ass.

Santiago was the bachelor of the group now. The only single one left.

And Frankie was set on changing that.

No matter how much Santiago protested.

Will and Benny gave in to Santiago’s reality with a simple nod, the former’s eyes sad and sombre, the latter’s teasing a little light-hearted and half-hearted.

But Frankie and him had the strongest bond he’s ever experienced. Saving a guy’s life a couple times does that to you.

Santiago knows, if anything, that whatever happens in this god-forsaken world, that Frankie will always be his rock, the one constant in a world of possibilities and probabilities.

But it also meant that Frankie had some sort of gall that the others didn’t.

And tonight, he meant to put an end to it, swiftly and surely.

The sibling of a friend of a cousin.

That still doesn’t mean Santiago wants to be here.

Detached enough from them that if it all went to shit, the ripples would be minimal. Attached enough to them to make the small talk a little less small-talkey.

“You’re frowning.”

“That’s because I’m mad, pendejo,” he grumbles back at the baseball cap.

Frankie huffs and though he can’t see it, he hears the eye-roll.

He feels like a petulant child, like he’s being babysat to make sure he won’t act out.

Which is what he is precisely planning to do.

He’ll take care of it quickly. Despite his cynical, eighty-year-old with three cats schmick he’s settling into nicely, he still has a bit of heart. And whoever the poor person was that had been roped into this will be roped out just as quickly. No harm done and Santiago’s Frankie problem fixed once and for all.

With another huff, Frankie leans back in his seat and fixes him with beady eyes, “At least, try to be a little agreeable.”

He only grumbles in response.

It’s a white-and-red chequered tablecloth kind of place. Corny, romantic, candle-lit.

Santiago was hoping he’d never have to set foot in such a place again.

The door jingles open.

Show-time.

Frankie sends him another one of his glares, and Santiago sends it straight back, letting it settle on his face, deep into the grooves of it.

There’s rolls and rolls of nervousness fading off of you.

But you look nice-

Beautiful.

Gorgeous.

The air’s been swamped out of his lungs.

This wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. This weird, fluttering thing that’s been going on his body since he laid eyes on you.

Santiago’s vaguely aware that you’re talking with Frankie, thanking him for arranging it all.

And there’s a lull in the murmurs.

He hastily gathers himself up, the angry little press of lines on his forehead all but gone.

He scrambles for the flowers Frankie made him buy you and holds them out, swallowing thickly, “Hi, I’m Santi.”

He hopes that this’ll make for a hell of a first-date story.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here, requests here.

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia x y/n #santiago garcia x female!reader #santiago garcia fluff #santiago garcia angst #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia fanfic #santiago garcia fic #santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia imagine #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fic #oscar isaac

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eyelessfaces · 1 year

Note

CONFESSION + Santiago sounds like it’d be cute

[CONFESSION] Person A confesses to Person B while they sleep.

reader is light enough to have santi lift and carry them. or santi has big muscles ;)

—

He didn’t notice it right away, it was Benny snapping his fingers and pointing at him after his brother nudged him to look at the both of you that made Santiago realize that you had fallen asleep on him, your temple resting against his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes, telling them that it didn’t mean anything in a loud whisper, careful not to tear you from your deep sleep.

The boys’ favorite activity for the past few weeks had been betting money that you and Santiago would end up dating before the end of the year, and the one to be the closest to the chosen period would win, so they had been taking any smallest detail for a proof of its evolution.

Benny was the one to bet that it would be done by the end of the month, so he was more perceptive than ever, looking for anything to prove that his bet might be won already and that you had already started dating without telling them.

It wasn’t the case, and you had fallen asleep against Santiago because he was within your reach. That was his rational explanation, but he really hoped that they were right and that it wasn’t a coincidence that you fell asleep against him instead of Frankie.

After that small interlude of teasing and of Frankie whining that he should have set his bet date earlier than two months away, Santiago wasn’t able to focus on the movie.

It wasn’t that your head was heavy against his shoulder, it wasn’t the way that you stirred softly in your sleep that disturbed him. His mind was clouded with thoughts, thoughts about you and him, thoughts about you being with someone like him.

He had done terrible things in his life, and he was afraid he would fuck up this one good thing, you, like he had fucked up everything else.

He took care that your head wouldn’t brutally tilt away from his shoulder when he got up from the couch, and one of his arms slid under your knees while the other cradled your back.

Will whistled, and Frankie said something along the lines of him being the prince charming between laughs as he carried you to his bedroom.

Every gesture was gentle as he put you down on his bed. He tucked you nicely, the covers up to your shoulders. He kneeled at your side, and even though the position was uncomfortable to his fucked up knees, he took a moment to watch the way your lips were slightly curled up in your sleep.

He softly smiled, not even meaning to, but it’s like a reflex when he has the sight of you peacefully sleeping in his bed.

“I think we should let Benny win that bet.” he murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible, even to himself. He kissed the top of your head, mumbling against your hair that he loved you, hoping you would hear it in your sleep, as unlikely as it was.

But he would tell you once you’re awake anyways.

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia fic #santiago garcia fanfic #triple frontier #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #santiago garcia smut #jane answers #santiago garcia drabble #santiago garcia drabbles

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theshireisburning-so-mordoritis · 2 years

Note

Heey 😊 Congrats on the beautiful milestone! 1.5k is an incredible number and you deserve every single one of those follows.

Could I please ask for fluffy Santiago Garcia with prompts "Are you wearing my shirt?" and 'You kissed me last night.'"And you didn't stop me." I feel like fluffy Pope, there is too much smut for him and not enough cuddle (not like smut is a bad thing 😏)

So reading this ask made me realise how little I write fluff for Santi. I guess it was about time I gave the guy a break. Hope you enjoy!

If Only I Could Tell The World I'm Yours

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x F!Reader

Prompts: "Are you wearing my shirt?" & "You kissed me last night." "And you didn't stop me." (Both been slightly altered to fit the dialogue.

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: 18+ just for very minor references to sex. It's pure fluff. Hidden relationship. Frankie, Benny and Will being little shits.

You woke to warmth.

To streaks of golden morning light that spilled from the windows and left glowing lines across bare legs tangled with anothers. There were soft puffs of breath stirring your hair at the crown and the faint smell of mint, smoke and spice tickling your nose with every slow inhale you took in sync with the rising chest you found yourself squashed against.

Face pressed so deeply into the column of his throat that your lashes brushed the skin there when your eyes finally fluttered open.

And yet he tried to pull you even closer when you yawned and pressed your hands to his stomach in an attempt to shuffle yourself back, strong arms winding tight around your waist and the soft scrape of stubble over your forehead as he dipped his chin and planted a lazy kiss there. “Don’t go yet.” He rumbled, voice raspy - sleep thick. "Want to hold you a bit longer before you go rushing off.”

You melted a little at that, your own apologetic kiss laid to the hollow of his throat before you pulled back to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. Fingers stroking through the mess of his curls like you could soothe away the discontent that grew in both of you when you thought about having to leave his arms and his apartment and pretend that you hadn’t created a home for yourself in both.

Because that’s how things were between you and Santi - how they had to be when this thing between you was a secret kept from the other three most important parts of your lives. You’d decided together that they couldn’t know, Frankie, Will and Benny.

It was still so new. There would be too much pressure. Benny and Will were protective to a fault and Frankie would probably have a quiet panic attack over the possibility everything could go wrong and the man who lived and breathed loyalty to his friends, would be forced to choose a side.

It made sense to keep things between them until you had things more figured out.

There was just times, right now being one of them, where you wanted nothing more than to say fuck it and let them find out if it meant you could stay in Santi’s arms that little bit longer.

And he was clearly thinking the same.

For when you stretched and tried to roll to the side, he followed, catching the hand that had been reaching for your phone before pressing it into the mattress whilst he rose above you. “Where do you think you’re going cariño?” He grinned, a little drunk with pride when you shivered lightly before throwing him a rather adorably unconvincing glare.

"We’re supposed to be meeting the guys for breakfast and I still need to go home and change.” You huffed, arching a brow. “Unless you want them asking why I’m in the same clothes I wore to the bar last night.”

Your words made his eyes spark, his voice dropping low and rough as he leaned down, lips purposely avoiding your own and trailing over the line of your jaw. “And if they did? What would you tell them, hmm?” He murmured. “Would you make up some pretty excuse - let them keep thinking that you’re so fucking innocent and sweet.”

"Are you forgetting we all served together?” You laughed, loud in the otherwise silence of the room before it caught in your throat as Santi nipped at your ear. “They already know I’m hardly what you call innocent.”

"Not like I do.”

You groaned when his teeth found your shoulder as he pulled at the collar of your t-shirt, sinking down until you arched against him before sweeping his tongue across the newly made mark.

You were clinging to him now, fingers buried into the skin of his ribs and every thought about getting up and leaving began to drift away like smoke in the wind when he raised his chin, smile teasing, to watch you as he rolled his hips into yours.

"Jesus, Santi.” You breathed and he sank down to kiss you then. All slow, soft heat as he braced himself above you, arms caging you in, gentle hands cupping your cheeks.

It made your blood catch light and your heart ache, your head dizzy with each brush of his tongue against yours whilst your skin grew warm and tingly from his body pressed flush against you - the sunlight that poured over you both when the sheets slipped away as you wove your legs around his waist.

A quiet moan slipped from you when he sucked at the pillow of your bottom lip and there was almost another as he drew back to look at you - all dark eyes, ruffled curls and kiss-swollen lips.

"You make the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, voice a little awed whilst his thumb scraped over the arc of your cheekbone.

You grinned, something sweet and golden blooming beneath your ribs that made you glow from the inside, the air feeling warmer as you turned your head to mouth a tender kiss to his wrist. “Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He murmured, dropping his head to nudge his nose against yours when your gaze was back on him once again. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty, you’re killing me expecting me to just let you leave when you look like that.”

His hand found the edge of your shirt, fingers toying with a hole in the worn fabric before they slipped under to splay across the smooth skin of your belly, his thumb stroking small circles that dipped teasingly beneath the waistband of your underwear. He watched as you shivered, as you shifted beneath him like you were trying to to push further into the press of his hand and then he suddenly leaned back. Eyes twinkling and lips parted before they quirked into a smug grin.

"Speaking of which - isn’t this my shirt?”

Shit. You'd hoped he wouldn't realise that you'd snatched up one of his when redressing last night. Choosing to forgo your own that was nestled among a few other things of yours in the draw he'd cleared out for you.

There was something about being wrapped up in a shirt that smelled like him, that you swore still managed to hold the heat from his skin despite however long had passed since he wore it. It felt like safety and comfort. It felt more like home than any of the dozen places you had given such a title to over the years. And you craved it.

You think Santi understands. Sees it in your face and the flash of nerves in your eyes that stealing his clothes was a step too far too soon, because even when you shrugged, when you tried your best to sound casual and lie that you couldn't find your own, his smile only gets wider. Sweeter.

There's a new warmth in his eyes as he tugged at the hem again.

"Yeah?" He asked, grinning. "Well fuck sweetheart, maybe I should start hiding all your clothes if it means getting to see you in mine. Looks so much better on you."

A bubble of laughter rose from your chest - bright and airy with relief and something impossibly tender for the man above you. You wanted to draw him down, kiss him until you were both breathless and drunk from it and feel him press so deeply into you that it would be impossible to tell where one you ended and the other began.

You would have done it if it wasn’t for the sharp ring of a message alert sounding from your phone, the shrill of it puncturing the sticky-sweet haze you’d both slipped into making you flinch.

There was a pout on Santi’s lips when you nudged at him, your hand a firm and constant obstacle when he still tried to chase your mouth with his own before giving up and falling back into the sheets with a dramatic huff. Hiding his smile with mock offence at the sound of your chuckle.

You bit your lip as you raised yourself up on your elbows and looked at him. The lazy way he draped himself back, all tanned skin against white-cotton sheets, grey sweats slung low on his hips and his curls a rumpled mess from where your fingers had tangled through. He caught you staring and rose-blush lips spread into another shit-eating grin, his tone full of taunt when he winked at you. “You gonna get that or just keep staring at me like you want to fu–.”

He spluttered when the pillow crashed into his face, choked laughter erupting from his throat whilst you huffed and rolled your eyes before snatching the phone from the bedside table.

And then your eyes went wide. Panic flooding through your gut as you attempted to fling yourself to your feet only to get your foot caught in the sheets, flail, and nearly end up in a heap on the floor. You caught yourself at the last minute, a hand thrown to the wall when you stumbled before searching the room for your jeans.

"Benny and Will are on their way here. Right now.” You told a confused looking Santi, whose gaze swiftly changed from concerned to a disappointed understanding, his body frozen where he’d risen, arms outstretched to make sure you were okay. “They asked if I’m nearly at the diner because they’re on their way but stopping to pick you up first?”

"Shit, yeah, I completely forgot.” He muttered. “They offered because my car is still in the garage.”

You nodded somewhat absentmindedly, eyes still darting along the floor before you spied your jeans partially hidden beneath Santi’s clothes from the night before, all pooled together from where you’d tumbled into his room, mouths desperate on the others and hands a little too greedy to feel skin to take notice or even care where the things you were wearing landed.

He snorted at the way you lunged for them, the little cry of aha! when you lifted them triumphantly before bending to shove your legs inside them. “I’m just gonna have to go like this.” You huffed and Santi nearly groaned when you straightened.

Between your sleep-mussed hair and kiss-swollen lips, the tight jeans and his shirt that, when the collar shifted ever so slightly, showed a brief glimpse of the pretty marks he’d left on your skin. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this breakfast with his sanity intact. “...let's just hope they don’t recognise the shirt.”

He swallowed hard, shook his head in a daze both in an attempt to reassure you and to clear the lust that was rapidly bleeding through his veins once more. “They won’t, it’s not one I ever wore that much.”

And yeah maybe that was a lie. But he didn’t want to mention that it had once been one of his favourites and have you decide that wearing it wasn’t worth the risk. Not when the sight of you in it had his pulse jumping every time he looked at you and his chest flooding with warmth.

There was another chirp from your phone and you quickly glanced at it, cursing as you located your shoes and yanked them on before reaching for him. “I have to go.” You rushed out, fingers curling around the nape of his neck to drag him into a too brief kiss, his lips only just beginning to part over yours when you pulled back and went to turn towards his bedroom door.

Only, before you could take another step his hand found your wrist and then he tugged sharply, reeling you back into his arms so his mouth could descend upon yours once again - hot and messy. More than a little hungry.

And despite yourself you melted, humming happily before you felt him smile against you and the corners of your lips tugged up into one to match. “Santi, baby, I’ve got to go.”

You laughed when his hand curled around your hip to pull you closer. His voice muffled but no less cheeky when he countered. “Just getting it out of my system before I have to sit with you, surrounded by our friends and pretend that I don’t want to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you whilst your wearing my shirt.”

Your thighs clenched together at that, cheeks warming as you imagined it. Without meaning to your fingers tightened their grip in his hair, the hand that had rested over his heart curling until your nails bit into his skin and you had to catch yourself as your hips subconsciously rocked against him.

It made him grin, even more so when you swore, his eyes gleaming with mischief when you flexed your hand straight and pushed yourself away from him.

He let you go without a fight and chuckled -low and rough- when you narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re a fucking menace Garcia.”

"Only for you cariño.”

You turned, still grinning like an idiot when you swung his door open and then you screamed in shock. Your hand flying to your chest to cover the place where your heart slammed frantic against your ribs. Santi was by your side in an instant, his body sliding past yours to place you behind him and his expression hard and dangerous before it morphed into stunned surprise. His brow furrowing and mouth dropping open.

Because at his breakfast table sat Benny and Will. Both of them never looking more alike than they did in that moment with laughter in their eyes and bright ‘gotcha’ smiles spread wide across their handsome faces.

Frankie was busying himself with pulling groceries out of a bag but you caught the way he glanced at both yours and Santi’s disbelieving expressions before turning, grin soft and his shoulders shaking.

There was a moment of silence where all of you just stared at each other and then both you and Santi spoke at the same time.

"What the hell is going on?”

"Did you seriously just let yourselves into my apartment? How long have you been in here?”

It was Benny that answered. Like he’d been bursting with impatience for one of you to ask just so he could. His fingers tapping against the solid wood of the table before he pointed to you. “What’s going on is that you’ve been lying to us and now you’ve been caught red handed.”

He smirked, mildly amused by the way you couldn’t even hide your guilty expression before he turned to Santi and shrugged. “Not long, we were going to wait outside after sending the messages but then you took too long. And you gave us each a key.”

"Yeah, for emergencies Ben not –” Santi grumbled.

"So you don’t want coffee then.” Frankie interrupted with a teasing chuckle, lifting one of the steaming cups from beside him without looking up from where he’s setting things up for your apparent breakfast.

A spread of pastries and fresh bread, bacon and eggs and sausages all lined up for him to cook whilst you recovered from the shock and eased into the odd situation you found yourself in.

And just like that Santi lost some of his guarded edge. He watched them all and then you, assessing the situation, looking for hints of discomfort before he trudged forward to take the drink and then a second from Frankie whilst you sank into the chair besides Will.

If you expected it to feel awkward then you were instantly proven wrong. There was no anger or accusation from the guys, only curiosity and something soft like joy when they observed the way Santi drew immediately back to you, one hand placing your drink in front of you and the other resting gently at the back of your neck to let you know he was there.

They hadn’t done this with any other intent but to let you know that everything was fine. That you didn’t have to worry about things changing or them thinking any different of either of you because they would always be happy with whatever you decided as long as it was what made you happy.

And with that knowledge you fully relaxed, easing back into Santi’s quiet touch. You took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of the coffee, the bacon that hissed and smoked when Frankie placed it in the pan and after a large gulp of your drink you turned to the older Miller brother and nudged his leg with your toe. Smiling when his lips quirked and he nudged you back.

"Go on then.” You sigh with a grin, “Where did we mess up - what gave us away?”

Benny laughed, his features boyish and light with it. “Take a wild guess.” He joked and when you didn’t answer, blinking between them in confusion, he looked at you for a beat, then two, and then at his brother, shaking his head with amusement. “I told you it looked like they hadn’t even realised what they’d done.”

You glanced at Santi who looked just as clueless as you, racking your brain for such a memory and coming up with nothing.

"You guys kissed right in front of us.” Will finally explained with a chuckle. “Well, it was at the bar - which we had a pretty good view of.”

It hit you then. A little soft and fuzzy around the edges but you could remember Santi’s hand resting on your hip, the way he tucked you tighter against him to avoid getting jostled at the busy bar and it had been second nature. A reflex almost.

You had looked up at him with a sweet smile and the moment you had tilted your chin he hadn’t even thought to deny you, pressing a warm kiss to your lips and then another to your forehead that had made your heart flutter.

You opened your mouth and then shut it again, pressed your palm to your lips to smother the laughter that bubbled up - bright and delirious. You had both thought you had been so subtle only to discover you couldn’t have been more hopeless at hiding your relationship if you had tried.

There was a twinkle in Santi’s eyes when you turned again to find him watching you, an undisguisable fondness when you reached out and gently punched his arm.

"This is your fault.” You accused, teasing. “You kissed me.”

"And you didn’t stop me.” He winked.

Before you could argue there was a snort from the other side of you and you twisted to catch Benny rolling his eyes, an indulgent grin on his face even as he complained. “God I don’t think I can handle you both suddenly being this sweet. I think I preferred being in the dark about this.”

It made you cackle unashamedly when Will responded, an immediate quip that had the younger of the two blushing when he mentioned how he’d rather see this than the shit he used to walk into the kitchen to when Benny lived with him and had a girl over.

There was warmth in your chest - a champagne fizz type of happiness - when the light barb turned into swapping stories and the room grew noisy with bickering voices and bursts of laughter, when Santi drew his chair closer and tugged you into his side, fingers drawing mindless patterns on your shoulder whilst he added tales of his own to the mix.

You beamed when Frankie placed a plate of food in front of you, a little mix of everything that you liked that immediately had your stomach growling. He returned it when you thanked him. Ruffled your hair like he had ever since he had taken you under his wing the first time you met, forever the protective older brother that somehow turned into scolding mother the second Santi dared to reach over and try snatch a piece of bacon off your plate.

There was a flash of metal, a string of colourful curses from Santiago when the handle of the fork Frankie had been about to pass you rapped across the knuckles of the offending hand.

“Hands off Garcia, didn’t you ever fucking learn manners, jesus.”

“Me? What about you? You break in to my apartment, hijack my kitchen and then try to nearly crack a bone over a slice of bacon. Where are your fucking manners Morales?”

You zoned out their arguing in favour for tearing a chunk of still warm pastry and popping it in your mouth, startled when Benny’s foot kicked out at yours beneath the table. His eyes were full of mischief when you frowned at him and you nearly fucking choked when he pointed the coffee-foam covered end of his wooden stirrer at your chest.

“So considering you were still trying to keep it a secret before we surprised you, how did you plan on explaining the shirt?” He crowed. “Because I could swear Santi has one just like it.”

Main taglist: @autumnleaves1991-blog @ecuadorlady @readsalot73 @acourtofsnakes @justanotherblonde23 @tiffanyblew @alexmarie29 @simsiddy @dihra-vesa @gingerbreadandpaper @sleep-tight1 @prettylilhalforc @mstgsmy @wildmoonflower @aynsleywalker

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia imagine #santiago garcia #santiago garcia fanfic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic #triple frontier imagine

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jakecockley · 2 years

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- drunken confession -

✧ pairing: santiago “pope” garcia x f!reader

✧ summary: your best friend santi needs a ride home after a night out with the guys. pope, being the drunk man he is, confesses his pent-up feelings for you.

✧ genre: fluff/soft comfort

✧ warnings: nothing bad, just mentions of alcohol and a bit of cursing

✧ word count: 1.2k

✧ author’s note: listen i’m like, in love with santi rn and um i was like why not do a lil fic of him? this is probably the first fic i’ve ever posted lol and well hope u guys like it! :) ♡ this is more in santi's pov and how he views you rather than vice versa. !! keep in mind, english is not my first language and if u see any mistakes pls ignore them :') (this doesn’t help my oscar obsession)

@marc-spectorr helped me come up with this !! pls read her fics ! they're amazing and she's one of my favorite fanfic authors. i love u callie, this one's for u amiga, hope u like it ! ♥︎

You had just picked up your best friend, who was, not to your surprise, drunk.

It made your eyebrows raise in amusement as you quietly snickered to yourself, seeing just how out of it Santiago was as he stumbled over to your car. He was usually so composed and right now, he was loosened up.

Frankie had texted you earlier, asking if you could give Santi a ride home. The other boys were still drinking and partying their hearts out, they weren't going anywhere just yet. He had hoped you could take Pope with you, knowing you were just getting out of work anyways. He didn't want another wasted man to take care of, plus, he knew Santi would get rest if he went home early.

Not to mention how much Pope spoke of you; Frankie knew the man felt something for you, and vice versa. The two of you were just stubborn or shy, if he could call it that, to admit it to each other.

"Heeyy princesa," Santi slurred as soon as he was inside the car with you. "I missed you, I was looking, everywhere for you," he added, his hand snaking up to grab yours, interlocking your fingers with his own, while his other open palm gestured to the air around him.

You felt your heart flutter all of a sudden in your chest. He usually wasn't this touchy with you.

What does that mean? No, no, relax, he's just drunk.

Sure, there were the occasional hugs and his arm placed around your shoulders, but, never.. hand-holding. God, you felt your heart beat quicker by the minute.

"You look really beautiful tonight, amor," Santi complimented, "but you always do, right, Morales? Veery beautiful."

Your cheeks warmed up at his words.

"Take care of this idiot for me, will you?" Frankie chuckled, clapping Santi on the shoulder.

"Oh, I will, don't you worry." You grinned, your gaze shifting over to Santi who was staring at you with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile.

"Alright, drive safe, amiga."

▬

Santi watched as you hummed to the music playing on the radio, eyes on the road, hand on the steering wheel and everything.

He noticed you were wearing scrubs, which barely clicked in his head that you had just come out of work.

"How.. was work, hermosa? Busy?" He asked you, that lopsided smile of his still on his handsome face. His short salt-and-pepper curls were hit by the bright red hue of the traffic light, illuminating his face too, the curve of his nose, his cheekbones.

Santi softly brushed his thumb across the warm skin of your hand, still holding it, in a way that screamed "i'm not letting go anytime soon".

You turned to look at him. "Oh, it was horribly busy. I had a lot of patients this shift and god, the doctor was chewing my ear off..."

As you explained to him how your day went, your words faded away as his dark brown eyes studied the features of your face for a long moment. The shape of your nose, your lips, your eyes, your scars, your eyebrows.

The same face he fell in love with ever since he had met you in that hospital in Paraguay, where you tended to the children that needed immediate medical attention with such carefulness and precision. He remembered how he felt when his heart stopped at the sight of you. You looked so beautiful and so caring; the way you softly smiled at the kid you were helping.

His gaze flitted down to your interlocked hands.

He loved you, and so he thought, with a burst of confidence, maybe he should tell you that tonight.

▬

"Come on honey, dance with me for a bit." Santi chuckled at you as he pulled you in for a spin, much to your cute protest.

"What you should be doing instead of dancing, Garcia, is getting your drunk ass to bed." You laughed, swatting at his chest playfully to make him let go of you. As much as you wanted to dance with him, he was drunk and you wanted him to get some rest.

"Only if you're there with me." He winked and you rolled your eyes at him in response. His hands drifted down to place themselves on your waist.

Santi felt your body go still from the feeling of his hands on you. He smirked down at you, and soon, that smirk turned into a soft smile.

Quickly enough, your own hands found themselves around his neck. You returned the smile he gave you without hesitation.

He leaned forward, gently placing his forehead against yours.

He heard your breath quietly hitch in your throat.

Even with all of the alcohol in his system, Santi suddenly and strangely felt steady.

He loved you, and he wanted to tell you that. Maybe he should. Would right now be a good time?

He knew you felt the same. He noticed how you would get visibly flustered whenever he'd compliment you, how you'd smile to yourself as you looked away from him, how you'd gaze at him when you thought he wasn't looking. He knew you did.

But if he was wrong, he'd know by your reaction.

A good minute passed by.

"San-"

"I like you," he cut you off, "a lot. Like, a lot, a lot." Santi laughed quietly under his breath.

"This isn't the alcohol talking, baby. I know, I'm not so great with this... kind of thing; confessing feelings and all, but I don't think I can hide it anymore."

"I've loved you ever since I saw you in that hospital years ago. I-I can barely understand what I feel for you." He whispered, one hand now on the side of your face, the other on your hip. Santi noticed the way your eyes slightly widened in surprise and in another emotion he couldn't quite place.

"I love the sound of your voice, I love the way your nose scrunches up when you smile, I love it when you dance in the kitchen, thinking nobody else is watching you. I love everything about you, you know?"

"I.. I've never felt anything like this before, preciosa. You're fucking beautiful and sometimes I-I wonder to myself how lucky I am to be your best friend. I just hope we can become something more." He finished, losing himself in those eyes he loved so much.. but judging by your stunned silence, he was quick to add: "B-but if you don-"

"Do you really feel that way, Santiago?" It was your turn to cut him off with a whisper, a pretty smile growing on your lips. You rarely called him by his actual name.

His heart swelled at the sound of you saying it.

"Meant every word, amor." He sighed in relief, feeling your hands hold his face, your thumbs caressing his cheeks slowly. He swore you could hear his heart beating.

Next thing he knew, you were softly pressing your lips against his, drawing him in as close as you could.

If his heart was running fast earlier, it was certainly running a fucking marathon right now. Probably add in a somersault, too.

Santi's arms wrapped and tightened around you, as if never wanting to let go, afraid that this moment would vanish if he did so.

He knew he'd never get tired of kissing you.

Eventually, you pulled away from him with a smile, much to his dismay.

Gazing into his onyx eyes, you chuckled to yourself, whispering:

"I love you too, Santiago Garcia. You have no idea."

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia fanfic #santiago garcia imagine #santiago garcia fluff #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #first fic #weeeeee #pls dont flop istg

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maggotzombie · 2 years

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moments like this ; santiago "pope" garcia

PAIRING — Santiago "Pope" Garcia (Triple Frontier) x Reader (fem) SUMMARY — If he was art, Santi would be a masterpiece and you’re a mere human being who can’t keep your hands to yourself while he sleeps. WORDS — 1k TW — just a whole lotta fluff, loads of giggles and good humor, Santi as the heart-eyes emoji, some language, implied smut (if you know, you know), kinda short too. A/N — My first Oscar fic and why not Santi, am I right? Also the first after a long hiatus (when I was thinking I wouldn't write ever again lol). So, enjoy and be sure I'll be back with more Santi hehe

— 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A BREATHY GIGGLE PULLS HIM back to consciousness. Then Santi feels a warm hand on his bare back followed by the soft touch of lips. And another giggle.

Instantly, an easy smile spreads on his face before rolling to his back to look at you. You are kneeling on the bed with an amused look towards him. Santi can tell you aren’t awake for a long time as there are still lines from the pillow on your face and your hair has tangles from sleeping.

Your hand slides to rest on his stomach when he turns to you. “What are you up to, atrevida?” His voice is thick with sleep.

You bite your lip with a throaty chuckle. “Hi,” You say with mirth all over your voice.

Santi narrows his eyes before chuckling along with you. “Hi you, gorgeous.”

He bites his bottom lip as reaches to you under the covers - his hands running up your thighs, slightly squeezing your hips before grabbing your waist and pulling you towards him. You squeal, bracing yourself on the pillow beside his head.

Your laugh vibrates on both of your chests as you’re now sprawled against him and your man nuzzles your neck, chuckling at your mirth. “What were you doing?” Santi asks again, planting a kiss behind your ear.

Your skin prickles as goosebumps run through your body as you settle more comfortably against his warm body. You move away a bit to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss in which you sigh contently.

“Tell me,” He presses, pecking your chin sweetly.

“It’s nothing. it’s silly,” You finally say, giggling again at your thoughts.

“Vida,” Santi insists, raising an eyebrow while wicked fingers travel down your back.

You roll your eyes slightly, giving in. “You just have a… biteable back, I guess?” You say and laugh at the confused grimace he makes. “I told you it was silly!”

“What do you mean?” He asks in bewilderment.

“I don’t know,” You chuckle again, resting your forehead on his chest in thought. He has a faint smile on his lips and his eyes are on you when you look back at him. “Okay. Don’t get me wrong,” You start and he raises an eyebrow at that. “You have a very, very hot front, of course.”

“Mhmm,” Santi nods and flips you over on the bed.

You shriek and laugh loudly, now under him. The change of positions completely gets you off guard and your stomach gives delightful somersaults as your man hovers over you. The look of complete adoration and love in his eyes is making your heart burst.

“Go on,” He encourages, nuzzling your collarbone and planting a kiss on the base of your neck.

As a response, you try to block your neck with your shoulders. “You’re distracting me,” You accuse.

“Sorry,” He pecks your lips quickly before giving you his full attention.

You clear your throat and run your tongue over your lips to moist them, attracting Santi’s attention to it. “As I was saying; you have a very attractive front,” You emphasize your statement by reaching up and kissing his chest. “But you also have a very sexy back…”

Once again, as an emphasis, you run your fingers lightly down his back and you squeeze his magnificent ass when you reach it, biting down your lip and giggling.

“It’s biteable, you know?” You shrug nonchalantly.

A flush of blood instantly rushes straight to his dick and Santi’s brain freezes for a second or two, his eyes darkening with lust. You love the reaction you get from him and you watch his expressions changing.

But he recovers way too quickly.

“I know what you mean,” He nods, smiling at you smugly.

“Yeah?” You bob your eyebrows innocently.

“Sure. You have a very sexy back too, especially when you are on all fours, slamming your pussy on my dick,” He says.

Your mouth drops open at his crude words. “Santi!” You chide but start to laugh anyway.

“But I think I need to refresh my memories,” Your man drops his head to your neck and runs his tongue on your neck subtly while pressing his semi-hard cock against you not so subtly.

This time, your giggle follows a sigh of delight. “Oh, do you?” Your voice acquires tones of sultriness.

“Sí, mamacita,” Santi’s warm hands slip into your top.

Chuckling with mischief, you cup his face and bring his lips to yours.

It is very hard for you to say ‘no’ to Santi but it is very easy to say ‘yes’, especially on these occasions.

In a matter of seconds, he has your top off and the rest of your clothes follow it quickly. Needless to say, you refresh his memories and, just to cover all the bases, do much more than that.

If you two were in a good mood before, now it’s even better but covered in sweat. “Feel free to wake me up like this more often,” Santi sighs happily as you both bask in the afterglow.

He’s resting his forehead on your chest as you run your nails on the back of his head. You laugh at his request and kiss the top of his head, making him raise his head to look at you.

“We should stay in bed the whole day,” He says with those heart eyes.

Sighing contently too, you stretch your arms over your head. “I’m hungry though,” You squeeze his sides with your thighs, keeping his body securely atop of yours.

“Yeah, we worked quite an appetite, huh?” Santi smirks, proud of himself.

You chuckle, pulling his face closer. “And I could use a shower, as well,” You kiss him.

“Oh…” Mischief lights up in his face again. “I got you,” He bites his lip and scoops you up on his arm.

You can’t hold the bubbly laugh that escapes you as he carries you to the ensuite bathroom with your arms and legs wrapped on his body. “Not that kind of shower!” Your squeal falls on deaf ears.

“¡No te entiendo! No hablo ingles,” He says, making you laugh harder.

“You cheeky bastard,” You look at his face. “I love you.”

“I love you too, vida,” Your man kisses you under the spray of the water.

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crazyk-imagine · 11 months

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How an Argument Ends (Santiago)

Benny // Will // Frankie

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- You knew there were time where you could say the wrong thing and would have a hard time trying to figure out how to apologize for it

- Sadly, this was one of those times

- He didn’t talk to you for a couple of days

- It hurt both of you, not talking to one another, that is

- You sent him a few apologies via text after the first couple of hours

- He didn’t respond, never even read them

- You’re not going to lie, that hurt more than anything

- That’s when you went to plan B

- You got a lot of his favorite things and made a special “I’m sorry” mixed with “You’re the best boyfriend anyone could ask for” basket

- He came home from a night out with the guys to find the basket on the counter

- The thing that caught his eye was the list of things you planned to do (a few of things he knows you don’t like)

- He already knew you felt bad but to see this, melts his heart

- He searches for you and kisses you, confusing you to no end

- He only smiles and kisses you again

- “So, does this mean, we don’t have to do the things on the list?”

- “We are, but not today.”

#Triple Frontier #triple frontier imagines #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier headcanon #Santiago Garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia headcanon #santiago garcia headcanon #santiago garcia imagine #santiago garcia imagines #santiago pope garcia imagine #santiago pope garcia imagines #santiago garcia fanfic #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago pope garcia fanfic #santiago pope garcia fanfiction #crazyk-imagine

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theanothersherlockian · 5 months

Text

PLEASEEEE somebody write a “same shirt prank” with the Frontier boys!!! the look on their faces!

bet benny would be all excited about it!

#triple frontier #frankie morales #santiago garcia #benny miller #will miller #santiago garcia fanfic #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #benny miller fanfiction #will miller x you

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anitalenia · 11 months

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━━━ 𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒎 𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒔 ₓ˚. ୭

━━ 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 / 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔. the frontier boys as random tropes. ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ part two | part three | part four

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: Pope, Ironhead, Ben, Catfish x fem!Reader

˖ ࣪⭑ content includes: male masturbation, religious themes, pussy eating, blowjobs and balls, bros before hoes, perverted staring, female masturbation, age gaps, dark-ish content, daddy kink mentioned, corruption kink, innocent!reader, mention of shower sex

˖ ࣪⭑ authors note: not really edited just wrote words. Idk anything about religion, or churches, or priests but I like the idea of wanting something you can’t have 🫦

LINKS ੈ♡˳·˖✶ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 | 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒔

━━ SANTIAGO ‘POPE’ GARCIA ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭, blasphemy, shame and desire

he stared at you everyday when you’d come in and volunteer to read to the kids. He’d be the first to smile and welcome you into the cathedral, salt and pepper hair in neat waves with a handsome, polite smile on his face as he’d walk you towards the children’s school with his hand on the small of your back.

He’d listen to you when you talked to him about your morning with a smile glowing on your face, then wished you well and to have a good day like the good man he was, the pillar of the community and an example to all. It was just a façade, a mask to fool the man he vowed his chastity to.

He didn’t tell you how his eyes would graze over your body at the curves of your hips and roundness of your breasts in those cute dresses you’d prance around in, completely oblivious and naive to the way his eyes would darken and his head would be filled of all the sinful things he’d do to you if you’d let him.

He was disgusted with himself as he’d take his hard cock out from the constraints of his black slacks in the emptiness of his office, under the watchful eyes of God as he’d stroke his dick at the image of you on your knees for him under this very desk. He’d picture how you looked on the floor as he ruined your sweet innocence, begging him for his cock and staring up at him with tears welling in those seductive eyes of yours. His cock would be deep in your throat as you gagged around him, pleading him to slow down but lapping his cum up like he was your messiah.

He’d cum all over his hand with a groan, his clerical collar burning into his neck as the cross of Jesus stared at him from the back wall mockingly. He’d picture wiping his cum off your chest or face, seeing your puffy lips wrap around his tip and swallow everything he’d give you. You were so sweet, so naive, so gullible; he wondered if you even knew how to properly suck a cock.

When he was done, he’d clean up and walk into the school room as you finished up reading to the children, greeting the parents and smiling at all the kids who looked up at him in awe. He’d smile that polite smile, wave that polite wave, the people none the wiser to what their esteemed Priest had just been doing.

He’d walk towards you when you’d finish and help you pack up your things, his eyes lingering on your cleavage and the clear gloss on your lips. He’d use the same hand he used to yank his cock and put it on your arm, insisting he’d carry your bag for you.

He was such a gentleman, you’d think as he’d lead you to the doors, ignorant to the way he stared at you with predatory eyes, imagining what it’d be like if he took you against the wall with your tits in his mouth, sweeter than the blood of Christ. He knew it was wrong, hated himself for it, unable to stop himself from submitting to your temptation every night in his bed, when he’d fuck his fist some more at the thought of you.

He’d pray for forgiveness every night when he’d clean up, but he knew the delectable shadow of sin had already possessed him long ago, and no amount of prayer would ever free him from the lustful clutches the devil had him in.

One day, he promised he was going to ruin that tight pussy of yours and show you just how devilish he could be.

━━ WILLIAM ‘IRONHEAD’ MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝, clenched fists, burning want

Will always considered himself a strong man; untethered to minuscule emotions like lust and love that corrupted so many of the men around him. It wasn’t his job to care, to coddle and love you like he was something more than what he was supposed to be.

He was the best of the best, strong and silent, dangerous and cunning. He was all rugged edges and sharp corners, a threatening shadow looming over your shoulder that scared off anything that might’ve looked your way. He stayed by your side and didn’t encourage any kind of conversation or connection, resilient in his role… always able to lock away those dark thoughts of his that would drift into his mind when you’d wear those little shorts of yours to bed. He could hide the arousal on his face when you’d bend over to pick up something you dropped, mask the jealousy he’d feel when another man would dare talk to you. It was easy for him to hide that part of himself, trained to disguise his true nature.

That was until one night when he saw that your bathroom door wasn’t closed all the way during his nightly rotation. You were supposed to be sleeping, but here you were, and there he was.

He told himself to walk away, to stay strong, ignore the blurred form of your naked silhouette behind the shower door as you bathed yourself. Yes, Will was a strong man but even the strongest flesh had its venom; all the dark feelings he’d built up during these last months with you stirring his cock in his pants as he lingered by the doorway like some perverted child.

He watched as you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, dark blue eyes like silent storms running over every single inch of exposed wet skin. His jaw was firm, hands clenched into tight fists as his cock hardened in his pants, imagining fucking you so hard into the shower wall the tile cracked.

He watched from his place in the dark as you dried yourself off, eyes glued to the fat of your ass and the perkiness of your tits as you ran the pink towel over your skin. He imagined those pretty tits between his teeth, covered in purple bruises as you moaned out his name to all the other guards posted outside your door to let them know who you really belonged to.

He was angry with himself for being so weak, unable to move away from the door like you had bewitched him with your very existence, a siren luring the sailor into her treacherous depths. He was weak willed and just dumb enough to follow your song, let your lips bury his head under water and drown him down below, so long as he was with you.

You were unaware of this, slipping your pajamas on and rubbing lotion on your skin like you weren’t being hunted like a lost lamb who had wandered into the wrong forest. Will could feel his chest ache and arms twitch to touch you, to pound into that cute pussy of yours and let out all the tension he’d developed in his muscles because of you.

Instead, Will cocked his head and ran his eyes over your form one last time, then turned his head and continued on his way with his nails digging into his palms. His cock semi hard in his pants as he walked down the hall for another rotation, knowing he wasn’t strong enough to deny you if he had stayed another second.

He grind his teeth, furious eyes observing the darkness of the large home you lived in for anything that might be lurking within it, eager to fight out his frustration on someone and beat them bloody. At least the pain could distract him from the longing in his chest, remind of who he was and not who he wanted to be.

After a while he finally relaxed his hands, but he wasn’t sure if he would be strong enough to walk away from you the next time, for even the devil had crumbled for his queen.

━━ BENJAMIN MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, lingering glances, yearning hearts

you always noticed him around the house during the weekends he was supposed to be away, watching tv when you’d make dinner, or rummaging through the fridge in the kitchen when you’d want a late night snack. He’d bump into your shoulder in the darkness of the night, wear his sweatpants low on his hips or just be coming out of the shower when you’d knock on the door.

You didn’t think much of it, always naive to the woes of romance and the idea of seduction. He was just your best friends brother, the cute guy with the big smile and the boy you’ve been forbidden to date; the man who didn’t even really care for you besides polite interaction.

Benny didn’t care about any of that, bold in his advances and flirty with his words, questioning your dates and always hugging you longer than he should. He was a playboy, brought girls home that suspiciously looked a lot like you, but they could never compare. He’d always imagine it was your pussy he was balls deep in, imagine it was your moans in his ear and your lips around his cock. It was the only way he was ever able to cum.

He was told very strictly to leave you alone, to not interfere with family and friend affairs and blur the line between friend or lover. But ever since his brother brought you home that first day he was amazed Will hadn’t fucked you himself, with your bouncy tits and too tight shirts you’d dance around the house in.

You were up late at night again when he walked past his brothers room to the bathroom, Will sleeping on the couch as he was adamantly a gentleman. He was disappointed, expecting you to be in the kitchen like you always were, expecting to see you eating a Twinkie as you sat on the counter. But his disappointment didn’t last long when he heard a faint noise, very whiny and quiet, sound from behind the door as he found himself lingering by it.

He furrowed his brows, leaning closer to where the door met the frame to be able to hear your better. Then, he heard it again. A breathy gasp, a low moan, a needy whisper of his name. He licked his lips at the realization of what you were doing, his stomach constricting as his cock jumped in his sweatpants, shirtless as always.

He listened as you moaned and whined, muffled behind your hand but loud enough for him to hear, picturing the way your fingers looked as you fucked your own hole, the way you’d lick your own cream off your fingers and pull at your nipples. He put his head on the doorway as his body yearned to open the door, hand reaching down and rubbing the bulge of his heavy cock from above his clothes.

You sounded so sweet, so whiny and breathless; he could only imagine the way your pussy would taste on his tongue as he ate you out on Will’s bed, had you squirt on his sheets as a wonderful way of getting back at his brothers dumb rule. He heard another gasp of his name escape your pink lips, his balls tight in his pants as he heard a pained moan, knowing you just came on your own palm at the thought of his cock.

Benny clenched his jaw, aroused and dick throbbing in his pants as he heard you approaching the door to go wash yourself off. He managed to back away, walking into his own room and laying on his bed, quickly whipping his cock out and jerking it off at the memory of your moans.

He didn’t know when, but one of these days his want for you was going to over power his love of his brother, and was going to fuck you into Will’s mattress with your head stuffed into the pillow.

But for now, he had his cock and his fist, and that would have to do until then.

━━ FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐝𝐚𝐝’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, cherry lipgloss, scandalous thoughts

Your lips wrapped around the red lollipop almost seductively, wrapping your tongue around it as the sweet cherry flavor burst on your tongue. You were unaware of his eyes on you, enjoying the silence of your little picnic table in the corner as the group of family and close friends huddled around the burgers and buns your father had grilled.

Frank couldn’t help but stare at you, isolated from everybody in your red summer dress, standing out in the greenery that surrounded you. He knew this was way fucking wrong, having watched you grown up from a spoiled teenager to a bratty adult, and my, what a woman you’ve become. Full breasts bulging out of the tank tops you’d wear around him, comfortable enough to not notice his mature lingering eyes on your younger body, or at least too stupid to notice.

He was sweet and funny, always made you laugh and smile and even taught you how to drive, but he couldn’t help but look at you as more than a daughter of a friend. He saw you as the woman you were and admired you just as such.

He did feel guilty at the way his cock would stir in his pants when you’d reach up and hug him, your breasts smushing in his chest as your pink, glossy lips would leave a faint sparkly imprint on his cheek. He imagined tasting that cherry lipgloss of yours on his tongue as he’d kiss you, pin you against a tree with your father, his best friend, feet away grilling a bbq for his birthday.

Your father was all wrong, for Frank did not want burgers or presents, he wanted your tight little pussy spread on his bed with a red bow around it, gaping and wet, waiting for his experienced mouth and his thick cock. He wanted your small body bent in every way he’d put you in, choking on his balls and eager to please him.

Your lips wrapped around the lollipop again and he couldn’t stomach anymore food, hungry for you instead as the image of your glossy lips leaving sparkly marks along the length of his dick fogged his mind like a cloud of sin, tempting him ever so slowly. He was hard in his jeans as he took a plate of burgers from your father, laughing and smiling and putting on the show he starred in.

He felt almost pitiful for your father, oblivious to the way his best friend fantasized about fucking his daughter under the very roof of the house he got another mortgage on. His mouth was dry as he swallowed, taking a seat at another table with a perfect view of your legs. He could see the faint patch of white panties you wore when you shifted in your seat just the right way, his cock straining against his jeans and he hoped nobody could see.

He took a bite of his burger, glad he was sitting down, because otherwise he’d walk over to you and drag you into the depths of the trees, have you give him his present as he showed you who your daddy really was.

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. also, the title is a latin phrase that means, ‘so long as you love me’, for anyone who was curious. and always remember that you’re loved and important <;3

#˖⁺. 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙖 .𖥔 ݁#santiago garcia fanfic #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #benny miller #benny miller x reader #william ironhead miller #william miller x reader #will ironhead miller #william miller #will miller x reader #frank morales #frank morales x reader

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flightlessangelwings · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 23- Orgasm Denial

Santiago Garcia x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count- 1.3k

Warnings- smut (18+ only), edging, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, established relationship, overstim

Notes- I... did not write this one with my brain if you get my drift lol! This one made me all hot and bothered so hopefully it does the same for y’all!! List provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen!

To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates. Reblogs highly appreciated!

“Does that feel good, baby?” Santiago purred in your ear.

“Mmm… Yes…”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from how good it really felt. Santiago thrust his fingers into you over and over again in a fast and harsh pace, and every time he buried them completely in you it felt like your soul might leave your body. He knew your body intimately, and he knew exactly where to hit to make you see stars.

But that also meant he could take it away from you at a moment’s notice.

“Oh fuck… Santi… You’re gonna make me cum,” you cried out as you clutched the sheets and threw your head back. Heat built in your body as your skin tingled from your quickly approaching climax.

Santi smirked, “Not yet, baby.”

Just as you clenched your inner muscles around his fingers and were about to tip over the edge, Santi pulled out of you completely and left you hanging. You let out a pitiful whimper at the loss and you bucked your hips up to try and chase your climax. The fire that had built up within you quickly faded as Santi just looked at you with a dark grin on his face.

“Santi…” you pouted.

He couldn’t deny how much the look on your face got to him, and his cock twitched as you begged for him, “You look so pretty like this, baby,” he cooed in a low tone as he caressed your face.

You whimpered but leaned your face into his touch. Your breaths were deep and ragged as your heart race came back down to normal. As Santi dragged his thumb across your cheek tenderly, he moved his fingers towards your lips. Without a word, he coaxed your mouth open and he shoved the fingers that were just inside you inside.

“Good girl,” he groaned as he felt your tongue swirl around his fingers.

You hummed around him as you worked his fingers the same way you would his cock. In your mind, you hoped that the action would earn your orgasm and Santi would let you cum. And at that moment, you would do anything to cum.

Santi pulled his fingers out of your mouth, and your lips popped around the tips as he did so. You rested yourself back down on the mattress and spread your legs obediently, ready for him to fuck you with his fingers again. Instead, however, Santi reeled his hand back and slapped your pussy hard.

“Fuck!” you screamed as he slapped your pussy again, “Santi…”

He growled as he slapped your pussy in a steady rhythm, and when he felt your wetness under his palm, he almost lost his composure. But, he wanted to play with you just a little bit longer and savor the look in your face when he denied your orgasm once again. So, he kept his gaze focused on your cunt as he slapped you several more times until your cries changed pitch.

Again, just as you were about to hit your peak, Santi pulled away and completely stopped slapping your pussy. You cried out in frustration and tried to snap your legs together to try and rub your thighs and give you that much needed release. But Santi was quick to react and he grabbed onto your thighs and kept your legs parted.

“Uh uh, baby,” he tisked, “Let me see that pretty pussy of yours,” he groaned, “Let me see how fucking pretty that pussy looks when it wants me so fucking badly.”

“Santi…” you panted as tears filled your eyes, “Please…”

Santi let out a low groan and dove into your exposed cunt in a flash. You screamed as you suddenly felt his mouth on your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit with expert precision. You arched your back as your body felt like it was on fire from how he devoured you, and as much as you tried to move your legs, Santi kept a firm grip on them to keep you open.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck…”

He growled into you as he savored your taste and slurped loudly. Your pussy had never been wetter, and he made a note to tease you like this more often. Santi swirled his tongue along your folds as he felt your body tense under his grip, and for a moment he almost decided to let you cum then. But, after all this buildup, he wanted to watch as you fell apart, so just as you were about to hit your climax, he gathered all his willpower and broke away from your delicious pussy.

“Santi!” you screamed as tears of frustration fell from your eyes, “Please Santi… I can’t take this anymore. Please let me cum!”

“Shit baby,” he looked down at you from his position on his knees, his chin glistening from your juices. Santi leaned forward and positioned his cock at your entrance as he cradled your face, “Alright baby,” his voice was softer, “You were such a good girl for me, baby. You earned this.”

“Santi…” you breathed as you blinked your eyes open and met his gaze. The look of adoration on his face took your breath away and made your heart skip a beat.

Just as you were about to say something, Santi pushed himself into you, and every thought was instantly gone from your mind. Your mouth dropped open to let out the moans and cries as your head flew back down onto the bed.

You were so wet from all the edges he gave you, and Santi slid into you easily. He groaned your name as he covered you with his body and quickly started pounding into you in a fast and steady rhythm. He fought to keep his eyes on you, not wanting to miss a moment or a microexpression from your body.

“Fuck… Santi… I’m…” you clung to his shoulders as he thrust into you over and over again and all you could do was lay there and take it. But that was exactly what you wanted.

“Cum for me baby,” he purred, “Show me how fucking pretty my girl is.”

With a loud scream, you arched your head back and your entire body trembled as you were finally granted the release you craved for what felt like forever. You clenched your entire body around Santi as he pounded into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You felt like you could float away if it wasn’t for his weight on top of you, and you had never come that hard in your life.

And Santi couldn’t get enough of the sight. The way your face twisted in pleasure, the way you clung to him, the way you screamed his name… it was all perfection to Santi. He almost didn’t realize his own orgasm snuck up on him as he kept his eyes trained on your figure. But after a few more thrusts, Santi was taken over by his climax and he spilled himself into you with a groan of your name on his lips.

He kept up his pace for as long as he could, and once he had no more left to give, Santi collapsed down on top of you with a huff. You immediately wrapped your arms and legs around him, determined to keep him pinned against your body. For several moments neither of you said anything, both too exhausted and out of breath for any words.

It was Santi who broke the silence first, “You alright, baby?” he asked in a soft voice as he pushed himself to his elbows to check on you.

“So good,” you replied with a smile as you opened your eyes to meet his, “But that was mean, Santi,” you chastised him playfully.

Santi chuckled, “I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t help it. You looked so fucking hot.”

You huffed with a grin, “That was hot,” you agreed, “But now I’m wiped out.”

“Me too,” Santi dropped down and rested his head on you, “I’m good to just lay here for a while.”

“Sounds good to me,” you kissed the side of his face as you savored the warmth and comfort of Santi’s body on top of yours.

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sweetly-yours-and-mine · 9 months

Text

Summary: A midnight picnic

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

Warnings: smutty but no smut, reader is a tad bit horny and possessive idk how good this is please bear with me

Word Count: 744

When Santiago lifts the wine bottle to his mouth, wine dribbles down his chin and neck.

Without thinking about it, you lean in and lick it away, the stubble littering his skin poking against your tongue. It’s a sweet white blend, something crappy you used to drink in college.

Against him, it’s like drinking from the fountain of life. You can’t help yourself. With the taste of the wine in your mouth, you follow the sharp edge of his jaw with your tongue and bite down into the soft flesh of skin underneath his ear.

Something ripe and possessive rises up inside you. You want to tear off a piece of his skin for yourself.

“Christ,” he pushes you away. “What the hell’s come over you?” He rubs where you’d bitten, and you take the wine bottle from him, taking a sip yourself.

Inside you, something churns in arousal as you think about his mouth and how it was at the same place yours is just a few moments ago.

Without the taste of his skin, you hate the taste. It reminds you of too many memories you would like to forget. Right then and there you decide that the only way to drink this wine is with Santiago mixed in. You want to drag him back inside from the fire escape and onto your bed, make love to him and bite him with the wine in your hand.

Pour it down his chest and watch it dribble down to his soft tummy where you’ll lick it away before moving down and letting his hands hold your head for his pleasure.

There was something about Santiago that hung around him like a cloud. Hazy and smoky, you'd call it mustard gas had it not been for how pretty it made him look. Like the gathered up petals of a rose.

He looks even prettier in the gentle hand of the moonlight, the lights of the city only serving to highlight his best features.

It's unfair.

Wearing a pair of tattered shorts that hit him on his upper thigh, a loose t-shirt that hangs off his shoulder and exposes his inner chest, he looks like something you only could have dreamed of before, something you didn’t know was allowed to exist.

The thick wave of humidity that’s taken the city by the neck, that makes you feel sweaty and gross, makes Santiago's hair, the longest he's ever worn it since he left the army, loose and curled, like each one was painted on to his head with a careful hand.

In moments like these you lose your words. They slip out of you, flowing past and away away.

You pass the wine to him and instead take the box of chocolates in your hands.

You’re not sure how Santiago came into your life. This fairy-like, god of a man that arouses in you a strange need to own.

One day Santiago wasn’t there, and then the universe was there. The wood panels had been pulled away and you’d bounded onto the racetrack in galloping steps.

He’s rubbing at the skin you’d latched on to like an animal, but still you’re not satisfied with the mark you tried to leave on him. It might be the heat that’s making you delirious, awakening in you wants and desires that had lain dormant for dozens of centuries now.

“Sorry,” you murmur gently, though your tone gives it away that you want to do it again.

He looks at you for a moment and then he shakes his head, laughing, “S’fine.” He reaches forward again and takes the wine, takes a long drink from it and makes you want to try it once more, to see if the taste would be any different from the last time, if the memories would change, turn pleasant and comfortable.

“You wanna spend the night?”

It’s a hot one, going to be even hotter when he joins you in bed as well, your double a bit of a tight fit for the size of him but at least your AC unit is half-working and his isn’t.

“You don’t haveta get me drunk to get me to sleep with you, baby,” he grins and pulls you forward to kiss.

His tongue rubs against yours and presses the taste of chocolate and wine into your soul. The humidity hangs heavy around you, a tight grip around your throat.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here. Summer Drabbles here.

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eyelessfaces · 1 year

Note

Snuggle w/ Santiago where the reader starts causing mischief lmao

you're a godsend

you bet

[SNUGGLE] Person A purposefully starts grinding against Person B while they’re snuggling.

+18; light smut, slight exhibition kink

You were cold. It was mid-July and you were cold.

Everyone around you seemed to sleep peacefully and seemed to be content with nothing to cover them up, and you now cursed Santiago for telling Frankie you would be fine with the thin duvet cover he had given you.

It was still hot when you had placed the mattresses in Frankie’s living room, or maybe you still had the pleasant buzz and warmth of the drinks at that moment.

Either way, everyone was sound asleep around you, and the sun was rising in a few hours and you wondered if you could get some sleep until then.

But a small grunt besides you offers the possibility that your boyfriend could be awake too, and that changes everything for you.

“You sleepin’?” you whisper above Santi’s shoulder, and he shuffles so he can face you.

“I can’t, you can’t stop turning around every thirty seconds” he sighs accusingly, and you pinch your lips in an apologetic smile.

“Sorry”

“C’mere” he offers, raising his arm to give you space to slot against him.

He wraps his arms around you and you nuzzle the crook of his neck, curling against him, and you know that you're doomed the moment the idea crosses your mind.

It's a bad idea, but it's late – or early, depending on how you choose to look at it – and everyone's asleep around you, and you’re pretty sure it would warm you up.

So you do it, you start slowly and discretely grinding against him, your crotch slightly grinding against his bare thigh, the thin layer of your underwear being the only barrier, and it takes him a few moments to understand what you're doing until he softly grunts your name when he feels a slight dampness against his skin.

"What are you doing" he groans as he looks down at his thigh, and you mischievously smile as you continue grinding against the meat of his thigh, more confidently now that he's aware of what you're doing.

"I think it's fairly obvious" you whisper into his ear, holding onto his bicep.

"We're not alone" he hisses between his teeth as his eyes dart to Will sleeping on the couch beside you, and Benny’s soft snores reminding you of his presence in the room.

“So what? I thought you liked risky missions” you grin, and he huffs out a laugh as he throws his head back.

“You’re a nightmare”

“And you’re hard.” you point out as you grind harder against the bulge in his underwear, and he represses a groan at the feeling of you making him twitch in excitement.

He sighs in defeat, “Fuck it”, reaching to lower his underwear.

You're warmed up by the time you’re done.

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sushiwriterhere · 11 months

Text

triple frontier *smut | 'angst

Santiago "Pope" Garcia

coming soon!

Francisco "Catfish" Morales

*drive (mechanic!Frankie) - Despite your intensely professional appearance, you didn’t seem out of place in the slightest. And by god, you were breathtaking. part i | part ii (coming soon!)

#triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia fic #santiago garcia fanfic #santiago garcia x reader #sushiwriterhere masterlist

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jakecockley · 2 years

Text

- our forsakened love - (prologue)

✧ pairing: santiago “pope” garcia x f!reader

✧ summary: santi recruits you for a mission in south america, but thing is: it’s been years since you’ve last seen each other. the tension is thick, especially when you two have… a past.

✧ genre: angst/fluff and smut in future chapters

✧ warnings: cursing, mentions of a break-up

✧ author's note: yeaahh, um idk, i was thinking of making this a series ?? this was originally just a fic but no longer ig LMAO tagging @marc-spectorr n @slenderclaw

You were bitter.

What fucking audacity Pope had when he simply showed up out of nowhere in front of your door. You didn't know what to think, what to feel, seeing his face just feet away from yours. You didn't know whether to pull him by the collar and kiss the hell out of him or slam the door and go on with your life, but a part of you said no, let's see what he has to say after all these years. That was the curious side of you talking.

You were also shocked.

When you heard the doorbell ring, opened the door, and saw who was there standing, you felt as if a bucket of ice was dumped on you. You were frozen, unable to move. Your hands felt clammy. You felt your heart beating faster. You certainly didn't expect your ex-boyfriend, the one who left you, to appear at your doormat. It wasn't like him, to randomly pop up like this and you sure as hell weren't going to entertain the thought that he might apologize for what he'd done.

Pope breathed out your name softly, but it did no difference to the cold look on your face, yet your heart cracked a little at the sound of his voice. You haven't heard it in a long time. Oh, how you missed it, the smoothness of it yet as well as the slight roughness.

He was wearing a simple black shirt with grey linen pants, laced with a belt. The colors brought out the silver strands through his dark hair and those piercing raven eyes. You noticed the thin chain necklace hanging on his neck, hidden underneath the fabric.

To be honest with yourself, you never really got over him.

You looked to the side, glancing down for a second before leveling your gaze on him again.

"What do you want, Pope?" You asked with as much steadiness you could muster, not wanting to show any vulnerability. You noticed how sort of uneasy the man was, but he regained his posture and cleared his throat. Seems you weren't the only one affected by this.

"Can we talk about this inside? If that's alright with you."

"...Fine."

▬

"You want me to what?" You chuckled coldly, leaning back against the chair you sat in, arms crossed. "To South America? You can't be serious, we- I almost died there, Pope. I won't be going back."

Did he suddenly lose his mind over the years or something? Well, you shouldn't be surprised, if you think about it. He was known for taking risks, going for them despite the consequences. But going after a dangerous drug lord was something else entirely.

Pope almost winced at the slight crack in your voice. His dark eyes gazed over the thin scar that streaked across your neck and collarbone, then back to your face. He didn't forget that night either.

Eyes following up on his own, you didn’t know what else to say. Your fingers fidgeted with each other, a habit you always did when you were anxious. The awkward silence was deafening to both of you, mostly to Pope.

Maybe he should leave and find someone else, but maybe he could convince you. After all, you were the best sharpshooter he knew. He had to take this chance, despite his history with you.

His voice cut through the tension.

"That last mission it was just us, Y/N. This time, we'll have the guys, just like before. Benny, Will, Frankie, and... Tom. I haven't spoken with him yet but I'm sure he'll be with us,” he told you with a soft tone, trying to ease your mind.

It didn’t really work, though.

"I have family here and for once, I'm finally taking care of them. If this job goes wrong, who will?" You argued sternly. "I'm not sure about the Miller brothers, but Frankie has a wife... a kid, Pope. Why drag him into this?"

"If we do this right, which I’m sure we will, the money we get out of this will support your family without you having to lift a finger anymore. It will be worth it, trust me,” Pope urged. "Frankie knows what he's doing, and he agreed to it."

“Once we’re done and safe, we go our separate ways.” He gestured with his hands.

“…How much?” You hesitated.

Alright, he had you there.

“Hundred million, more than that. We can discuss everything with the guys, the plan especially. I can... give you a day to think about it, though," Pope speculated caringly. Standing up from the chair and looking down at you, you brought your head up to look at him. His heart ached to see you smile again, noticing the way your expression had softened, but your eyes still held their hardened gaze.

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to get on his knees and tell you just how sorry he was, how much he missed you, how he thought about you every day, never ceasing away from his thoughts. He wanted to tell you why he left.

He shrugged off the unrelenting urge. Now wasn't the time, he knew it and he had to remind himself that. He came here to recruit you, not open up an old wound, although he believes he already did that to himself just by looking at you when you opened the door. He ignored the feeling.

His voice was smoky, "Come to this address when you're done thinking about it. Tomorrow." His hand pulled out a card from his back pocket, handing it down over to you.

You didn't answer him immediately, simply nodded and took the white, written piece of paper from his hand.

"Alright," you say, fingers playing around with it. Pope was surprised to hear that harsh tone gone, instead replaced by a soft one. You watched him begin walking to the door.

You got up to walk him out and once you closed the door, you sighed, eyes shut before you opened them. Maybe you should accept, your family would thrive with the money. You gently shook your head.

Goddamnit. This was such a bad fucking idea.

main masterlist | moon knight masterlist

#santiago garcia fanfic #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia imagine #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago pope garcia imagine #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia #santiago garcia angst #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader

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