#Santiago “pope” garcia | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clazaries · 9 months ago

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The Thin Line Between Victory and Survival NSFW!

(Santiago "Pope" Garcia x f!soldier!reader)

Summary: Having been newly promoted, your first mission with Delta Force goes wrong and you have to deal with the consequences of going against Santiago's orders

w/c: 6.6k

Warnings: NSFW! war environment, slight knife play, masturbation (f!reader), oral (m!receiving), self-edging, orgasm denial, choking, dom!Santi, p in v, slight fluff at the end, think that's everything?

a/n: reader's callsign is 'Midge'. this takes place after the events of triple frontier but where the gang are still active members of Delta Force. I kinda imagined Santiago as Ghost from COD (cos daddy)

ENJOY!

***

“Frankie. Sit rep?”

“ETA 30 seconds. Sit tight.”

“Rog’.” Santi’s gravelly voice worms its way into your ear in harsh rumbles as you begin to take position at the edge of a sandy cliff, overwatching the vast desert valley ahead of you. His voice shakes the nerves inside you that are already on high alert. You remind yourself to turn down your comms when you can afford the chance. “Midge, how copy?”

You perk to attention at the sound of your nickname and respond accordingly. “Loud and clear, sir. In position. Eyes on Frankie.”

Towards the heart of the valley, Frankie’s distant figure calmly approaches the enemy-riddled farm under the cover of darkness and you watch with bated breath through a window of green. Directly ahead of you, even further away on the mirroring side of the valley is your superior Santiago “Pope” Garcia, providing overwatch just as you are. You can’t see him but you know he’s there, like a ghost lurking in the shadows. Even though you are just as concealed as he is, you have this disconcerting feeling that he’s very much capable of plucking you out, watching you.

You readjust yourself nervously.

It’s incredibly dark with nothing but the twinkling stars and Jupiter’s bright sparkle to keep anyone sane. Without the night vision goggles, you are a lost hope. They sit squarely on your nose, grinding the bone and encasing your eyes, and the sweat trickling down your neck is no home comfort either, but now is not the time to be complaining. You have a job to do.

Having been recently promoted for your sharp shooting and bright mind, you’re no longer an extra in someone else’s play, you’re the real deal now. You’re still taking orders no less, except now word doesn’t have to pass through at least three ranks above you like a game of Chinese Whispers before you receive the order.

Every mission is different but your response has always been the same: subdued nerves to begin, then before long, you’re in your element and the job gets done. However, this task in particular has your heart beating a little harder and you don’t sense it settling any time soon. The whole mission is unnerving. It’s just you, Frankie and Santiago, sent out into the middle of nowhere to retrieve controls for a weapon that’s been missing from the US government for three years. The very same that is currently being protected and fortified by an armada of Russian extremists. Every minute in between the initial briefing and your current breath has been spent quietly fretting about it.

This mission alone has introduced a lot of firsts for you; first time working with Delta Force rather than for, first time working off the grid, first time working in a squad with fewer than 5 comrades beside you, first time being completely and hopelessly outnumbered…

First time feeling extremely, extremely doubtful.

“Remember, this is a covert operation and completely off the grid so keep it quiet. Frankie, I want you in and out before they even get a whiff that you were ever there, and Midge--” you gulp, “keep Frankie alive.”

“Yes, sir.” You and Frankie’s voices ring through simultaneously. By now, Frankie has approached the back door of the barren barn, a large building that no doubt houses a number of enemies inside. Through your scope, you witness Frankie infiltrating the barn, his voice verbally confirming it seconds later. “I’m in. Going dark.”

“Copy that.”

The second you lose sight of him you take a hefty breath, letting it flood your lungs while the waiting game begins. From out here, there’s nothing you can do for him except warn him of any outside movements. As of right now, he’s on his own, doing what he does best.

“Stay sharp.”

You keep quiet on your side of comms, too paranoid to risk speaking unnecessarily. Instead, you keep your wits on what’s in front of you. There’s no movement, not even a breath of wind to shake the lonely tree that stands at the far end of the farm and it feels as though time has stood still. If it wasn’t for the mouse scuttling underneath your sniper stand, you would’ve thought so.

The little creature skips and hops over the rocks to your right, stopping every couple of seconds to clean the dust from its ears. Cute. You quirk a smile at the thought of something as simple as a mouse breaking the tension that’s riddling your bones. God knows you need it. Every fibre of your being is buzzing with uncertainty and the heavy nauseating feeling in your stomach is enough of a sign that something about this mission just isn’t right. Some would call it instinct, others would call it a load of rubbish, regardless, the feeling is there and you’re not willing to ignore it.

In all honesty, you would’ve carried out this mission entirely differently if you had the authority. But that’s the thing. You don’t. Outranked and out-experienced by the two men alongside you, you had no option but to play by their rules. Where you would’ve gone all-in, they chose to keep their cards close to their chests.

You never agreed with the idea that less is more. Not in the military.

Ten agonising minutes pass by. Nothing has been said and nothing warrants being said. Everything about you is screaming to point out the obvious; that something clearly isn’t going right. Frankie should’ve been out by now.

“I don’t like this. It’s too quiet. Nothing’s happening.”

Santiago instantly replies, a slight ring of chagrin evident in his tone. “Good. Means we haven’t been compromised.”

“Then why isn’t he out?”

“Patience, Midge. Keep focussed.”

You’re seconds away from overstepping boundaries and saying something you shouldn’t, but the moment you open your mouth, you spot a black vehicle off in the distance, quickly morphing into view as it speeds across the expanse of the valley with a plume of dust trailing behind it. It’s heading directly towards the farm.

“Be advised. Vehicle inbound coming in from the north. Pope, you see it?”

“Affirmative. Six Russians inside and likely armed. Do. Not. Engage. Frankie, get the hell on with it and get those controls.”

The vehicle approaches and screeches to a stop, the occupants immediately disperse from the vehicle with rifles in hand. Fear shoots through you, wide eyes pinned on the door Frankie entered through, desperate for it to open again and see Frankie escape but alas, no sign of him. “Come on, come on, come on…”

“Enemies heading towards the front entrance.”

“I’ve got a shot on two of them.”

“No. Stand down. Do not engage. They don’t know we’re here, we can’t draw attention to ourselves.” Pope’s voice rages through your earpiece again and you wince, both from his tone and volume.

“Why the fuck are we here then?”

“To prevent a ruckus from happening. If we engage, we’ll be the reason for it. Now shut up and keep your eyes peeled. Frankie, for Christ’s sake, you better have those controls.”

You listen intently for his voice, hoping that he’s succeeded and he’s on his way back, but when you hear a slight crackle, a groan and high-pitched frequency piercing through the comms, you assume the worst. Your heart stops dead in your chest when you hear a shot being fired, its echo carrying the weight of dread right to your position. “Fuck! Santi--”

“Frankie! Do you copy?”

Short, resounding booms resonate from the farm and you’re left with no doubt that Frankie’s position has been compromised, leaving his life and the controls to this weapon at stake. You can’t afford to lose both and you’re certain that Pope knows that too, so why isn’t he giving the order for backup?

“He needs help!”

“Stay put! I can’t risk losing two of you. This is Pope to Ironhead, how copy?”

You drown out William’s voice with worries of your own, constantly watching for signs of Frankie’s survival but to no avail, you find none. You knew this mission was never going to succeed. Your instinct was right. And based on that fact alone, what’s to stop you assuming that when your gut instinct is now telling you to go and extract Frankie and the controls yourself, it’s the right decision no matter what your orders are?

“Fuck this.” With haste, you pack up your equipment, whipping it over your shoulder with a new-found surge of adrenaline pumping through you. The hill you’re perched on isn’t tall, but it is steep, so as you run down the slope, your body falls faster than your legs can keep up. The howl of air blows past your ears and the clinking and clanking of your equipment rattles with each step. Even still with the cacophony of sounds, nothing can be louder than your boss’s rage.

“Midge! What the fuck are you doing? Get back to your position!”

You don’t bother responding because you’re too out of breath…and mostly because you’re shit scared. When you hear his voice again, you’re at the door Frankie entered through with a shaky hand holding your pistol and the other tightly gripping the handle.

“Midge, so help me God, if you take another step--”

“We can’t leave Frankie!”

“We don’t know if he’s still alive.”

“But we know the controls are in there, if we can’t get one, we’ll get the other.”

“NO! You get back here right fucking now!” The scratch of his growl descends down your body, making you curl your toes. Suddenly, a farm full of Russian extremists doesn’t seem to be your biggest threat…

“I’m going in.”

A grunted sigh crackles through the comms as Pope watches you push through the door into chaos.

“Just so you know, if you somehow survive this, I will kill you myself.”

~~~~

Miraculously, you did exactly that. You survived. Not only did you extract Frankie’s beaten body and save his life, you also retrieved the controls before they got away. You can’t deny that the odds were slim and it did nearly cost both of your lives, but at the expense of breaking a few rules and a few bones, you made it. And you won’t apologise for a single bit of it sitting here in an unused briefing room with Santiago.

The tale of twists and turns didn’t end when you and Frankie both made it out alive only hours ago, in fact, it continues with Santi; a man with chains around his heart, a shield around his mind and a look of steel donning his face. It is fair to say his reputation precedes him, especially since his comrade Redfly died years ago. Before you met him officially, you had only ever heard of his emotionless gaze, his inhuman self-restraint and deeply enigmatic personality, and you found it strange that no one told you what it was like to be around him. Until Frankie told you that how you felt being in a room with him could not be explained through words, it was something you had to experience for yourself.

Frankie was right. You had to be there to see that he was stronger, colder, smarter, more intimidating than anyone had let on. His presence wasn’t one to be easily swallowed. It was obvious that strangers couldn’t settle the unease they felt when he walked into the room; cautious eyes, bitten lips, fidgeting muscles. They succumbed to his eerie, silent domination very quickly. Quicker if those dark eyes were locked on you. They were seared into the back of your mind the moment they landed on you for the first time, remembering how you just couldn’t decipher the encrypted messages they hid. Whoever stated that the eyes were windows to the soul had clearly never met Santiago.

But tonight, that restraint is gone. He is positively seething. Outwardly, publicly, irrationally seething. In the dimly lit room, he stands menacingly in the corner where the light doesn’t quite reach, yet still you can see his knuckles tensing and untensing with each breath he takes. You don’t say a word, quietly picking at the forming scab on your knuckle, and in your head, you speak the words you don’t have the conviction to say out loud.

“Do you have any idea how fucking reckless you are?”

You slowly peer up to him, his words still processing as you narrow in on him. “Reckless? With all due respect, my actions saved a man’s life and finished the mission. What part of that is reckless?”

“The part where you didn’t follow my orders! You went rogue. Off plan. Completely out of line. If you don’t follow orders, you don’t know how it will end. I could’ve lost you both unnecessarily.”

“Could’ve,” you mutter.

He begins to loom closer, taking every word of yours like they’re a sour taste in his mouth. In muted tones, he whispers out to you. “What?”

“You said you could’ve lost us both. But you didn’t.” The words feel like liberation. It’s the first time you’ve ever behaved like this. It’s so uncharacteristic but you just feel so insulted by his lack of gratitude or appreciation that anger bubbles inside you, spitting out words that you know you shouldn't, turning you into someone you definitely aren’t. You are usually a rule follower, you are usually obedient, and you usually respect authority, but in the blinding light of anger, you just can’t surrender to Santiago’s discipline so easily.

“And you should’ve listened to me. But you didn’t. Nobody ever fucking listens to me and they end up dead because of it.”

“Just because Redfly did, doesn’t mean everyone else will too.”

Low blow, Midge.

Sensing immediate regret, you keep your eyes firmly pinned on your hands on the table in front of you. Like a dark rain cloud, you catch sight of his shadow engulfing your own. His stature and all-encompassing presence emerges behind you but you don’t dare move a single muscle. His hands curl around the back of the chair you’re sitting in, the pathetic plastic creaking under his fists. The brave front you’re putting on begins to yield to his growing temperament and the facade crumbles piece by piece.

Everyone in the unit had heard of what happened when a certain team of the Delta Force went rogue. The US Army had never let them live it down since.

He leans his head over your stiff shoulder and you can even feel the heat of his anger just glazing over the shell of your ear.

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” Santiago spits every word with heavy articulation as if he’s etching the words into your brain. His laboured breathing is a concern, knowing that it’s a warning of the wrath that’s about to ensue. “Redfly didn’t follow my orders to stand down and it inevitably got him killed. And right now, the same might happen to you.”

With a sharp, unexpectant tug of your hair, your head whips back, swinging the chair with you until the overhead light burns into your eyes. Reflexes have your hands gripping the edge of the table until they turn white with tension, stopping yourself from tipping backwards. The sudden blade on your neck stops you moving forward.

“Do you remember what I said to you before you disobeyed me?”

You remember all too well. If you somehow survive this, I will kill you myself.

“You wouldn’t.”

Santiago presses the blade harder against your skin, unapologetic. “Wouldn’t I?”

You really don’t know whether to call his bluff but to stay on the safe side you remain silent. Until anything happens, you are both stuck staring into each other’s eyes, holding a resentment none of you are willing to let go of. Looking up at him, it’s obvious that he is teetering on the edge of breaking a few rules himself, allowing the sharp edge of the knife to roll across the expanse of your neck, bobbing as you swallow, until the sharp point rests precariously atop your pulse. But even he knows himself that he wouldn’t follow through with it, because as much as it pains him to admit it, your courageous actions, although downright stupid, did save Frankie’s life and secured the controls. And he fucking hates it. If there was anything he could do to scare the absolute shit out of you to stop you being so smug and defiant about it, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“Santiago,” you warn, just as the point of the knife starts to break through the thin layer of skin on your neck. You try to move your head but he still has his fist entangled through your roots.

The instant the little whine of his name broke from your lips, something snapped inside him. The desperation of it, it was too provocative for him to ignore and an electrical feeling pulsed from his chest and shot straight towards his dick. Having you in his tight clutches, essentially at his mercy, exacerbated the feeling and suddenly he could feel himself growing hard. Fuck, what was he doing?

It’s perverse of him to want to hear it again, to see those plump but bitten lips of yours say his name again in a plea for his forgiveness. He becomes so fixated on the idea that he gets carried away, pricking your skin with the knife, watching as your eyes widen and your body writhing beneath him.

“AHH! Pope--fuck--okay, okay, I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry, just…please let go of the knife.” There it was again, the slight twitch in his dick, one that makes him grow uncomfortable beneath his boxers.

It’s one thing for Pope to be angry, but when lust is thrown into the equation, there’s much less he can do to suppress it and with you still whimpering beneath him, it’s something he’s quickly realised.

He relieves the pressure of the knife just enough to alleviate the pain but not enough that you haven’t completely escaped its threat. He moves out of your sight, his head dropping lower until his lips are gracing across your ear. You hear nothing but his slow breathing, funnelling down your ear and you instantly shiver. You want to pull away from him but for some reason, you’re chemically drawn into him; his close proximity, the smell of him, the hold he has on you, it’s all so…dangerously alluring. Something changes and the air starts to grow hot.

“Y’know,” he purrs, “I can’t allow you stay on my team if you can’t listen to my orders--”

“No! No, I-I want to stay.”

“How do I know you won’t pull something stupid like this again, hm? You’re still a rookie, you’re not an addition to this team, no, what you are is a liability. Your actions today proved to me that you are just not capable.”

“I am. I was promoted for a reason.”

“Yeah? Prove it. Prove you’re capable and I might consider keeping you on my team.”

“How?”

“It’s simple,” he says, his lips trailing from your ear to skim across your cheek, just teasing with feather light touches. “Follow…my…orders. Do you understand?”

Your cheeks are burning, your lungs are heaving, everything about this screams ‘this is a risk you shouldn’t take’. But it’s hard to heed those words when Santiago’s grip of your hair loossens to soothing scalp scratches, when the tips of his lips and his nose brush over your burning cheek, inhaling the scent of you, when your gut is telling you to listen to how tempted your body is, how wanting it is for him.

Your thighs press together beneath the table.

“Yes.”

“Yes…what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Better. Stand up.” You swing forward so fast that a violent rush of blood to your head almost makes you lose your balance, but Santiago keeps you up with a firm hold to your arm while he casually throws the knife onto the table. He perches himself in front of you to lean against the edge of the table, touching toe-to-toe and holds your gaze; bold, dark brown eyes that give nothing away about the inner workings of his mind. And it’s those same eyes that can read everything about you.

“Nervous, soldier?”

“No, sir.”

“Don’t lie.”

“A…A little, sir.”

“Good, you should be. Take off your top.”

With those words, you know, that whatever happens from this moment on, Santiago will not be following any official protocol but his own. You do as he says, now feeling the heat of the room touching your bare skin. Santiago admires the way your belt hugs around your waist, waiting for the moment his hands can do the same when he’s fucking you from behind. Your bra is standard, nothing sexy. It’s what he expects on a day you had been on a mission, but what his eyes catch is your nipples pebbling through the material, and the slight blood stain discolouring the straps from the shrapnel wound to your shoulder that he didn’t realise you had.

“At ease,” he commands. You act on instinct, bracing your hands behind your back with your legs standing shoulders-width apart. The instruction has been ingrained in you since the day you started your training. “You got hurt?”

“Minor wounds.”

“Wounds you wouldn’t have had if you had listened to me.”

Fluttering warmth spreads from your core the moment Santiago cups your breast, your nipple weaving through his fingers and caught in a tight pinch. When you don’t react, he peers up at you to engage in a wordless conversation that both are in tune with. Keep going? Yes. He brings his other hand up to mirror the other and this time he finally elicits a small, but audible sigh from you.

It’s been so long since you’ve had anyone like this, even longer for Santiago. His failures to locate his old contact Yovanna in Australia broke him and since then, he had sworn off getting close with anyone for fears of time repeating itself. As for you? You had yet to claim anyone as your own. Sure, you’ve had a few romances over the years but no one had ever satisfied you in the sick, slightly twisted way you were searching for. Up until now, you didn’t think there was a man out there who was interested in the same things you were. You didn’t think they existed.

Until you met Santiago. He is a thrill personified.

It was impossibly cruel that the world had dealt you this hand; to fantasise over the ways his gravelly voice could murmur the dirtiest, filthiest things to you, the ways his experienced hands could ruin with the slightest of touches. However, you always knew that professionalism and the dangers of your line of work would always take priority over your fantasies, and you forced yourself out of your fictional world to come face to face with the harsh reality of war. It was a miracle how you were able to survive this long without going absolutely feral, but now, with Santiago losing his patience too, you’re starting to think that you won’t last much longer.

“So fucking reckless,” he whispers, a reminder for both you and himself. His brow dips when his frustration rolls back in its tide, keeping that stone-cold expression hard on his face. It’s slightly different though. His parted lips, his vigorous movements, the slight pant to his breath. In your eyes, it all points towards desire more than frustration. “As your superior…” His voice is somehow quieter, but it’s heard all the same, “it’s my responsibility to punish you, to teach you a lesson about discipline. You need to learn that when I tell you to do something, you fucking do it. You understand?”

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of your neck fluidly, your hands itching to wipe it away but obedience locks them behind your back. Suddenly, he snaps forward, his hand coming to snatch your jaw and force you to look him in the eyes. The precision of his quick movements makes you flinch, trapping a breath in your lungs and he notices, lips curling momentarily.

“Yes, sir!”

Shivers follow wherever his other hand roams. He moulds out the shape of your waist and hips, squeezing tighter than your belt ever could. He begins to unbuckle your belt with little regard, popping the button of your trousers and bursting the zip to admire the way your trousers hang loosely from your hips. Everything inside you tenses at the sudden exposure.

Santiago begins toying with you, running his knuckles lightly over the edge of your underwear, dipping just the tip of his finger beneath the elastic rim, but retreats just as quickly. He follows the line of your navel, travelling up and up to trace small ghostly circles around your ribcage and it takes everything in you not to shudder. Your body can’t quite figure out how to tune into him, the stark contrast between the harsh grip he has on your jaw and the fluttering touches to your body has your mind going crazy and it’s mildly disorientating.

His thumb circles around your chin before resting upon your bottom lip, pulling it out into a pout for his eyes to fixate on. He has that expression on his face that you’ve seen before; determined and fully resolute. The features of a man with authority.

“That mouth…” he pants, “‘s gotten you into trouble today.” He draws you in until the tips of your noses clash and he’s a hair’s breadth away from kissing you. Instead…“I want to fuck it. Get on your knees, soldier.”

Your knees collide the cold surface of the ground almost instantly much to his pleasure. He wastes no time undoing his belt as efficiently as he did yours, and before too long the tip of his lengthy cock replaces where his thumb was just seconds before, wet with little beads of cum. Your hands reach out to guide him into your mouth but he snatches your wrist before you can commit.

“Nuh-uh, this one’s for you. If you have some semblance of discipline, you’ll cum only when I say.”

You nod, falsely, and promptly take him into your mouth with one hand at the base of his cock while the other slips beneath your underwear and swirls around your clit the way you know best. A strangled groan leaves his throat and you feel the vibrations of it with the way his cock twitches in your mouth. The same pleasure buzzes in you, spreading warmth from your stomach down to your cunt.

Despite having eventually found a rhythm that you can settle into, bobbing your head and taking as much of him as you can, you can’t find balance. Your multitasking skills have taken a hit because as soon as you feel the tight pinch of pleasure erupting from your clit, you know you can’t succumb to it and just like that, all your focus and effort turns to pleasuring him and the feeling dissipates. It’s torturous having to edge yourself, it’s not something you are particularly well-versed in.

“So good, so fucking good,” he praises. Santiago’s hands come to scrape through your hair and take control, causing you to move faster and suck him down even harder, so much that you have to plant your other hand against his thigh to regain balance, going against his orders. He notices and chastises you. “Get that fucking hand back where it should be.”

A moan gargles from your throat, a lack of patience wearing you thin. It doesn’t help that you’re incredibly turned on by the whole situation and you’re hesitant to touch yourself because of it, unsure how much more you can take before yet another one of Santi’s orders is disobeyed. So you take it slow, lazily circling around your bud just enough to keep you satiated while you occupy yourself with Santiago. Your mouth detaches from him with a pop, using those tear-stained eyes of yours to silently beg for his own release in exchange for your own but his head is thrown back and takes no notice, indulging in the way your tongue swirls around his tip. Just the sight of the vein popping from his neck is enough to send a rush of lust to mount up onto the orgasm that’s impatiently waiting. Fuck, you really need to cum.

What gets his attention is your needy little whine. A whine that warns you both that you’re on the precipice of cumming, that if you pressed any harder on your sensitive clit you would combust. Your thighs are almost rattling beneath you.

“Don’t you dare,” he warns in a low growl, thrusting into your wet mouth and straight to the back of your throat. “Don’t you disobey me.”

“I can’t hold on,” you splutter.

“You can and you will. Fuuuck…”

Decidedly, your hand comes to a halt because after all, this is about discipline, right? It’s all about being able to control yourself, to place your trust in him and listen to what he says hoping that it will all pay off.

You need to do something that would push him over the edge, do something that would completely shatter his world, never to be forgotten. You offer every trick in the book; swirling around your tongue around the head of his cock, sweeping it across the small slit to collect the small bead of cum, teasing him before taking him down your throat and gagging on him. He’s already so close, and you're already dripping onto your hand, and with one last final trick up your sleeve, you catch his eyes, sink yourself onto him until your nose bashes against skin, and fight through the gag. Teeth baring, you slowly, lightly, graze your teeth up his cock, ghosting over every vein that pulses, leaving behind the soothing aftercare of your soft lips. By your side, his thighs twitch and by the time you reach the head of his cock, an explosion happens.

Santiago leans forward, grappling onto your head as you drink down everything he gives you. His entire body tenses, trapping you into a headlock and just only for a couple of seconds do you feel yourself losing breath, but it doesn’t matter, because above you he’s panting heavily, enclosing his thighs around your head and holding onto you for dear life. It’s all the signs you need to know that you’ve done what you promised, you proved yourself.

“Fucking hell,” Santiago pants. His grip loosens around you and you suck down a large breath as he releases you. The instant your lips are free, he forces you to a stand and claims them, humming into them with hunger. He slips his tongue past your lips searching for a taste of himself on you with a delectable moan. It only takes him a couple of seconds of clawing at your waist before his hand slips beneath your underwear to feel the result of your constant edging; a wet cunt that’s pleading for relief. The slightest touch of his fingers has your hips buckling, you’re so close it hurts.

“So wet. So needy.”

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. You want it, you need it, you can’t live without it, for god sake, please!

“Yeah?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “On whose authority?”

“Santiago, please.”

“I told you this is about discipline and listening to orders--” his fingers drill into your clit with absolute precision and immediately takes control of your pleasure, luring it to the surface. “Did I say you could cum?”

“No, but--”

“Then you can’t. Have the discipline to stop it.”

“Fuck!” Just seconds away from orgasm, you drop to a crouch, his hand slipping from you in one fluid movement. So close, so fucking close.

Santiago maniacally chuckles above you. He has little sympathy for you hunched on the ground reeling into yourself, but what he does have though, is just a little pride. Pride that you listened, that you obeyed no matter how desperate you were to go against his word. Because, of course, in Santiago’s eyes, his word overrules everyone else’s. His word is gospel. What he says goes.

You don’t get to relish the pride he has for you because you are spiralling. Your shaking body can’t allow you to stand knowing that even the slightest friction of anything against your clit would set you off and you’ve done so well to abide by his rules, you wouldn’t want to ruin it.

Santiago’s hand comes to stroke the back of your head in a supportive manner to find that you’re burning up. It’s obvious that you need release and that resides with him.

“Stand up.”

“I…I don’t think I can.”

“Come on,” he demands, his tone a little harsher. “Stand up and put your hands on the table.”

Shaky legs raise you to your feet and you brace yourself against the hard wooden table, the cold surface just a slight relief to the fire raging through your body. Santiago teases down your trousers leaving your panties to feel the brush of his hips against your ass, giving you a large hint of what’s to come. Your stomach plummets at the thought of having to hang onto the precipice for any longer. You could cry at the thought, tears ready and waiting behind your eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers seductively. “You’re so close, aren’t you? So desperate for release that just one--” he lightly brushes your clit through your underwear, “little--” he does it again and you judder, “touch will set you off.”

Jesus, you could cry. You could cry and cry and cry, and beg for forgiveness, yield and submit yourself completely to him for the one second of pure bliss you’re starving for. He’s reduced you to nothing but a licentious and needy beggar you don’t recognise.

“How much longer can you last?” He knows, but it pleases him to ask anyway.

“I’ll break if you touch me.”

“Perfect.”

Wicked hands and fast reflexes rip your drenched underwear from you and Santiago mercilessly drills his cock straight into you. The second you feel him fill you up, one hand comes to encircle your neck, closing off your oxygen while his fingers find your clit once again and with just a few devious laps around your clit, you explode. A blinding light flashes behind your eyes and your body becomes engulfed by a white-hot pain that ironically, freezes you to the spot. Santiago growls loudly behind you, feeling how your pussy clenches so tightly around him that he’s barely spared an inch to move, but his fingers don’t face the same challenge and are still effortlessly ruining you to the core. There’s a pathetic attempt from you to remove his hand but his persistence remains far superior.

Santiago relieves the pressure on your throat to hear you sing for him. You’re thankful the walls are thick enough to contain your cries.

The thing is, Santiago knew you were close, but what he didn’t anticipate was how close he was too, especially so soon after you sucked him dry. With how intensely your pussy milks him of everything he has, it takes less than a few forceful thrusts before he succumbs to his orgasm and collapses on top of you. It washes over him hard, electrocuting every nerve and filling every pore with sweat. Fuck, he thinks, haven’t felt this good in years.

Warmth envelopes you both, eyes fluttering to a close with the liberating feeling of release. Santiago, having just a little more sanity than you do, still has enough energy to lazily work his hips back and forth, fucking you so slowly and deeply, you think it might just trigger another explosion. Alas, he spares you the burden and finally comes to rest against you.

It feels like an eternity has passed by the time the heat dwindles and air returns to your lungs. During the quiet minutes that pass, euphoria eases into your muscles, massaging out the cramp and any discomfort of your desperate attempts to contain your orgasm. The soft, grounding kisses that Santiago leaves at the nape of your neck seem to have a similar effect and you hum contentedly.

“I mean it, by the way,” Santiago mutters behind you, still brushing his lips against your skin. “You really could’ve gotten yourself killed today.” His fingers trace down your shoulder, gently running across the bandage that covers your shrapnel wounds to reinforce his point.

You sigh. “I know.”

You feel him leave you, alleviating his weight and dressing himself. “Look at me.”

You’re just about able to turn yourself around, and with Santiago’s help, he dresses you too. Once decent, the very hands that ruined you come to clamp against your cheeks, far too delicate for what you had known them to be. “What you did today was out of line—”

This again. “But Frankie--”

“Frankie is a different story. His mission to infiltrate the barn and receive the controls meant that the chances of him dying was a lot higher than ours. And even though it’s a fucking bastard of a pill to swallow, it’s just one of those things that we all have to come to terms with. I went into this mission already prepared to accept the possibility of his death should anything go wrong. Yours I wasn’t willing to accept.”

“But I didn’t die.”

“You’re not getting it.” His words are spat through gritted teeth and something in you sinks at the disappointment. The only thing that seems to calm him down is the sensation of your forehead against his, proof that you are alive. “Frankie’s death would’ve hurt, yes, but like I said, I would’ve seen it coming. If you expect disappointment, you won’t get disappointed. But when you threw yourself into the firing line like that, you started playing a game of Russian Roulette. Neither of us knew whether you were going to live or die and I panicked. I was so scared, terrified even at the thought of losing you because I knew I would never be able to recover from it. Your death, your untimely, unprecedented death under my watch would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life. That’s the difference between you and Frankie. That’s the lesson you need to learn from this.”

Your eyebrows crunch together, feeling stupid for not coming to the realisation sooner. You feel embarrassed to admit that you had never thought of it like that.

A long silence fills the room because you’re not too sure how to put the feeling of heavy regret into words, none of them justifiable enough to convey even a hint of the remorse that you feel inside. The fact that you refuse to look Santiago in the eyes is proof enough to him that you’re aware of the mistake you made, and instead of looking for a response, he settles for your silence and simply brushes his thumb across the highs of your cheek.

“Just promise me you won’t do it again, no matter how immoral it seems, no matter whose life is at stake, please, if at all possible, keep yourself safe.”

“I promise.”

He brings his lips to yours, melting them together in a kiss as though it is his last. “Good,” he smiles lightly, sealing the lesson with a kiss to your forehead. “I…I might’ve gotten carried away trying to get that message to sink in.”

For the first time in a while, you smile. “It’s okay. I’ve definitely learned my lesson not to piss you off.”

“Hmm, keep your promise and stay alive long enough and you’ll find out what the reward is.”

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thugbiscuits · 2 months ago

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october fic rec list 18+ ONLY MDNI

please note: none of these fan fictions were written by me. when you read please make sure to like, comment, and reblog. IT MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE. (also go check out their blogs because they have way more delicious writing that you’re looking for 👀)

HEHEHEEHEE thank you for keeping up w/ my monthly recs, honestly. it’s so cool to see writers get recognized for their creative skills and to meet likeminded people on this app ! i love it here sometimes. anyways, enjoy this beautiful spread of fics. love you all MWAH. ageless blogs / minors get blocked

logan howlett fics

➺ swallow (oldman!logan howlett x reader, smut) @strangererotica

➺ hurricane (series, ex bf!logan howlett x reader, smut) @bpmiranda

➺ young rich & in love (dbf!logan howlett x reader, smut) @prettycoolgirl

➺ swipe right, bub (mutant!logan howlett x human!reader, fluff) @shybluebirdninja

➺ big bad wolf (logan howlett x fem!reader, smut) @not-neverland06

➺ verona (boyfriend!logan howlett x reader, fluff) @lanadelreyscokewhor3

➺ size difference (logan howlett x reader, smut) @l0vergirlsw0rld

➺ nameless as a river undiscovered underground (logan howlett x reader, smut) @moonlight-prose

➺ fuck or nothing (logan howlett x reader, smut) @adelliet

➺ be nice! (logan howlett x reader x wade wilson, smut) @hotgirlslovecyclops

➺ like animals (logan howlett x mutant!reader, smut) @areyouwell

➺ logan taking care of drunk reader (fluff) @mcrdvcks

➺ baby fever (logan howlett x reader, smut) @silverskyeline

wade wilson (deadpool) fics

➺ his favorite slut (mean!wade wilson x reader, smut) @softfem-dom

➺ dialed in (deadpool x reader, smut) @tteotlma

➺ involuted (wade wilson x reader, smut) @inklore

➺ blowout (wade wilson x fem!reader, smut) @baka-bakeneko

➺ deadpool as your boyfriend headcanons (deadpool x reader, fluff/smutty) @titaswrld

➺ knee deep in the passengers seat (deadpool x reader, smut) @runawrites-blog

➺ high sex w/ Wade (wade wilson x reader, smut) @lillian-gallows

➺ kinktober #21 (gunplay) (wade wilson x reader, smut) @avocado-writing

bucky barnes fics

➺ fri(end)s (bucky barnes x fem!reader, smut) @buckymorelikefuckme

joel miller fics

➺ maple hazel (joel miller x reader, fluff) @razrbladekiss

➺ seeing pink (joel miller x reader, smut) @gutsby

➺ a burning desire (series, firefighter!joel miller x reader) @honeyedmiller

➺ bdsmaid (series, joel miller x reader, smut) @mountainsandmayhem

➺ howl-o-ween (joel miller x reader, smut) @covetyou

➺ harder (joel miller x f!reader, smut) @toxicanonymity

➺ sweet cherry (joel miller x f!reader, smut) @aurorawritestoescape

santiago ‘pope’ garcia fics

➺ think about it (pope garcia x reader, smut) @fettuccin-e

➺ when you move, i move (santiago garcia x reader, smut) @noisynaia

cooper adams fics

➺ pretty little princess (cooper adams x reader, smut) @steph-speaks

➺ stockholm syndrome fic (cooper adams x reader, read tags!) @thebutchersbitch

dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3 header by me!

lovey’s note: what do you guys think of the header i made fr? 😭 cause i tried to make her cute ! also please check out all the series on here, im HOOKED seriously

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fettuccin-e · 1 year ago

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Tag-Teaming

Kinktober Day 5: Threesome

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader x Santiago "Pope" Garcia, afab!fem!reader, tag-teaming, unprotected piv (wrap it up gang dont be dumb), fingering and oral (f!recieving), Santi and Frankie both have filthy mouths how dare they (w/c: 1.1K)

A/N: I have been wanting to write a Santi x Frankie x Reader fic for forever okay and kinktober really gave me an excuse, but writing threesomes is so HARD (in more ways than one hehehe) so props to anyone who can write threesomes regularly because it's so difficult. Anyway these two can sandwich me between them anytime (I have been following prompts from this list by @flightlessangelwings!)

It shouldn’t surprise you how good they are together, how well they work. They’re a team. They've always been a team. Why would this be any different?

But fuck, it’s so much different experiencing it, not just seeing it in the field. Frankie plastered against your back, your legs braced over his thighs as he spreads you apart, spreading you so wide for Santiago. Fucking Santi, his cock pressed so deep inside you it’s like you can’t breathe, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips as he breaks you open around him.

“Fuck her harder Pope,” Frankie grumbles, pinching your aching clit between two wonderfully calloused fingers. “Fuck her like you goddamn mean it.” His voice in your ear, his filthy fucking mouth, make your cunt clench around Santi’s cock, and the man groans at both the feeling and Frankie’s command, pounding his cock into you hard.

Frankie rubs furiously at your clit, sending your back arching against his chest, gasping for air. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let yourself fuckin’ feel it. Santi’s cock feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“God, yes, oh my fucking God,” you whine. Santi chuckles, all smugness and delirious pleasure. He rocks into you at an angle that has him jamming into your sweet spot relentlessly. “He feels so fucking good, ‘s so fucking big.”

Santi leans forward again, capturing your lips with his. “You think I’m big, hermosa, I can’t wait to see how you take Frankie’s cock. He’s gonna split you apart, stretch this pussy so fuckin’ wide,” Santi mutters against your mouth.

The thought makes you moan, pressing back against the unmistakable length of Frankie's cock, hard and aching, pressed against your skin. You hear Frankie suck in a labored breath, his fingers pausing on your clit. “You wanna cum, sweetheart?" Santi says, his voice dark with promise. "Get all loose to take Frankie so deep in this little cunt?”

This time, Frankie groans from behind you, deep and rumbling. The sound is intoxicating, especially as his fingers start rubbing at your pussy all over again. An endless mantra of “please, please, please,” escapes from your lips, and Santi growls, fucking into you so hard it makes tears spring to your eyes. You claw at Santi’s back, into Frankie’s forearm, gripping onto them both for dear life.

“C’mon, baby, cum on Santi’s cock, bet you look so pretty when you do. Wanna feel this pretty pussy clench around his cock,” Frankie murmurs darkly in your ear. He snakes his other hand up for body, pinching one of your nipples between his fingers. “Don’t you want to see Santi cum, cariño? Won’t he look so pretty?”

A look up at Santi, his curls drenched with sweat, flush high on his cheeks as his hips work between yours, has you nodding furiously at Frankie’s words, and fuck, you’re cumming at the sight of him, of Santi, so beautiful and debauched between your thighs. Your body locks up with it, your pussy clenching around his length still working into you, Frankie holding you tightly to his chest as Santi fucks you through it.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” Santi growls, pressing himself as deep into you as he can, his hips twitching as he fills you up. And God, Frankie was right, Santi is beautiful, twitching through his orgasm, jaw clenched and pupils blown wide. He leans forward to kiss you in a way that is fucking filthy, licking into your mouth desperately, swallowing your moans. You breathe together through it, and when you finally stop trembling, Santi pulls away from your mouth with a feral grin.

“Wanna give Fish a turn, baby?” he whispers, and you manage to mumble a yes, even though your brain has been turned to mush. Santi chuckles, the smug bastard, and slips out of you, the emptiness making you whimper.

“I know, bebita, I know,” Santi says, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Frankie’s gonna fill you up again, I promise.”

You lift your hips, turning your head to press a kiss to Frankie’s lips as Santi grabs Frankie's cock, pressing the tip to your entrance. Fuck, it’s thick, popping past your entrance as you sink your hips down, down, stretching yourself around him. It seems fucking endless, how deep he reaches into your cunt.

“That’s it, baby, it’s so big, isn’t it?" Santi whispers, "Frankie fills you up so good, yeah? Treats this pretty pussy like it fucking deserves?”

“Santiago.” Frankie growls, his fingers digging into your thighs as you clench around him like a vice at Santi’s words. Fuck, he’s so close already. Watching Pope fuck you already had his cock throbbing beneath you, and now, in the hot clutch of your cunt, he feels like a goddamn virgin. And with Santiago whispering some of the filthiest shit he’s ever heard in his life between the three of you, there’s no way he can last very long.

He’ll make you cum first though. Of course he will.

You nearly scream as Frankie pumps his hips up beneath you, spearing you deep on his cock. He holds tight to your thighs as he pounds furiously in and out of you, ripping you to pieces on top of him. He’s so fucking warm against your back, Santi radiating heat against your front, and you swear to God that you could pass out then and there. Fuck, it’s so good, Frankie’s cock drags against your g-spot with every fucking thrust, unrelenting and utterly debilitating.

And then, Santi lays down on his front, eyes trained on where you and Frankie are connected, and sucks your clit into his hot mouth.

This time, you really do scream, your hands flying down to tangle in Santi’s hair while he licks feverishly at your clit, and you cum, Santi licking between your legs, Frankie pounding up into your cunt. You thrash between them, utterly lost in the feeling of it, hot tears leaking down your cheeks.

“Fuck yes, baby, that’s our good girl,” Frankie groans from behind you.

“Please, please cum Frankie, need you to fucking cum,” you cry, and Frankie has no choice but to follow your orders. He sinks deep inside, biting into your shoulder as he drowns your pussy in his cum. The thought of it mixing with Pope’s inside of you has him shaking through his orgasm.

“God, look at that,” Santi murmurs from between your legs, watching you clench around Frankie so tight he can barely move, cum leaking out around where Frankie is buried deep inside you. His cock twitches at the sight. Later, he thinks, later, we’ll do this again, over and over.

For now, he helps Fish guide you off of his lap, laying you between them. The three of you plaster yourselves against each other, breathing together. A unit, a team.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#i fr need them both right fucking now #santi frankie sandwich <3 #yeah frankie has a massive schlong #frankie x reader x santi #frankie morales x reader x santiago garcia #catfish x reader x pope #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia smut #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier x you #triple frontier smut #triple frontier x reader

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eyelessfaces · 3 months ago

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say yes?

santiago garcia x reader

summary: the first time he asks, you say no. the next few times become a game to him.

warnings: refused proposal, angst (with a good ending), mentions of the operation from the movie, tom is mentioned like once or twice (yes this counts as a warning), brief mentions of ptsd and unhealthy ways to cope with it (drinking), a tiny smut scene

tags: gn!reader, fluff, santi being silly, the first few scenes are really angsty but I promise it mainly gets silly and cute after that!!

please mind that for artistic reasons (lmao), the first few scenes are not following a linear chronology (I wanted to point that out in case it gets confusing)

word count: 3k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

The tip of your fingers drum nervously against the counter; the sound is awful mixed with the aggressive rumbling of the coffee machine. Like every other morning, you watch the birds outside the kitchen window, pecking through the bowl of mixed seeds, and like every other morning, you feel Santiago’s hand gently resting over your lower stomach as the prickle of his stubble scratches your cheek when he kisses it.

You hear him pull the stool to sit at the bar table, like every other morning, and like every other morning, you give him the coffee you just made – though hesitantly, this time – before you make yourself one.

And just like every other morning, he checks on his phone as he waits for his coffee to cool down, the smoke curling up in the air, swirls visible through the ray of sunshine piercing through the kitchen.

You gaze at him, at the way he scrolls through the news page on his phone, your stomach churning at the fact you’re both trying so hard to act like yesterday was an evening like every other one and like this morning is the natural follow up of a perfectly normal situation.

Then, all you can hear is the coffee machine, your coffee pouring and the birds outside, chirping.

“Are we gonna act like nothing happened?”

He looks up from his phone, to you.

“Isn’t that what you want?” he quirks an eyebrow at you, his morning voice deep and raspy.

You huff out a small breath through your nose. “No” the coffee machine stops, but you remain facing Santiago. “I want things to be clear between us.”

He puts his phone down onto the counter, with a small chuckle as both of his hands rub the sleep off of his face. “You made things clear sweetheart.”

—

Your body was curled at the edge of your side, your arm hanging off the bed, fingers brushing the cool floor. Sleep had been hard to find, for the both of you; you felt Santiago move behind you across the bed, turning to face the opposite direction.

How could either of you possibly sleep tonight?

Your heart ached inside your chest, your mind full and feeling like your head was about to explode, so you couldn’t even imagine how he must feel.

“Santi,” your voice was weak, quieter than you had anticipated.

He hummed softly in response, just enough to let you know he was listening.

You waited an instant. It all burned your tongue, everything you could possibly say to him.

“I love you” you reminded him, as if innocently trying to press a bandaid over the wide crack you had managed to create earlier. It felt stupid. You knew this wouldn’t fix the broken pieces.

Maybe it was even making things worse.

Santiago could hear the beating of his own heart reverberating through his ears; for you, the room was dead silent, and it remained like this for what seemed to be an eternity, during which you considered leaving the bedroom to take a breath outside, before he finally said,

“I know.”

—

The ride back home had been oppressively quiet. Santiago's playlist, though playing at the lowest volume, had somehow managed to mingle with the shitload of thoughts running through your mind, and the rhythmic drumming of his fingers against the steering wheel felt like a desperate attempt to ease the sickening tension between the both of you and to make it feel like it all wasn’t awfully awkward.

Back at your shared home, you watched as he slid his jacket over the coat rack like he was on autopilot before you followed, hanging yours beside his.

You glanced at him as he mindlessly tossed his cap over the couch. It felt like the right moment to address the elephant in the room – though you weren't truly sure there was a right moment to talk about this.

“Santi I–” you started, words dying in your throat, unsure where you were even going. He turned and sat against the back of the couch, knowing where the conversation was headed, his hands shoving into his pockets. “It’s alright,” he said quietly, his voice low, resigned. “You don’t have to explain anything. I get it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to marry you.” you affirmed. His gaze hardened, his lips pressing into a tight line as he looked at you. Out of all the things you could say, he hadn’t anticipated this.

You could distinctly see the hurt and confusion in his flickering eyes. “Then what is this? Because that’s sure as hell what it felt like tonight.”

You hated this. Hated to see him ache, knowing it was all your fault. Hated to hear the self defensive sarcasm in his voice – hated to see his conflicted furrowed brow. “It's just– not the right time.” you explained. You took a breath, stepping towards him, getting closer, but not too much. You could already see the frustration building up inside him, you didn’t want him to feel cornered.

“You don't know what you're doing. You're still processing what happened in South America”

It had only been a month; he was still having nightmares, was still dissociating at random times, was still pouring himself a glass at random times of the day, more often than he should.

You knew you were right. You wondered if he thought you were.

He stared at you, his expression unreadable, and you talked again when you started to see the defensiveness, the way his mouth gaped slightly as he searched for his words.

“You’re not doing this for us. You’re doing this for you, because you’re scared. You’re scared of things slipping away from you, so you jump head first into things to feel like you have control over your life. That’s what this proposal felt like”

He rubbed the stubble of his chin, nodding, not like he understood or agreed, like he acknowledged what you were saying. His hand buried in his jeans pocket again. "You think this is just because of what happened? I’ve been sure about this for a long time. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t." his eyes darkened, his jaw working as he processed the conversation. “You think I don’t mean it.” he said quietly, more of a statement than a question.

“I'm not sure,” you pinched your lips, stepping towards him, desperate to make him understand. “I mean, I know you mean it. I know. But Santi… Ever since you came back–” you shook your head. His jaw tightened, the crease of his brows becoming more visible. “You’re trying to hold on to something, to control something, because so much of what happened out there was out of your hands. That proposal– it felt like a reaction to everything, like you’re trying to ground yourself, to finally have control over something in your life.”

He shook his head, a small sigh leaving his mouth. “It wasn’t. I just didn’t want to waste any more time.” he nodded, a pleading look over his face. Your heart clenched inside your chest. “I know it may seem rushed after what happened, with Tom and everything, but–” he stopped when he saw you wince. “I want to make the most of my life. With you”

The confession should make you feel all giddy, just like the proposal was supposed to. It just makes your heart tighten inside your chest.

“So, I’m right.” you raised your eyebrows at the way he just proved your point. “You’re doing this because of the operation.”

You sighed with a shake of your head, your hand trying to rub away the ache lodged inside your skull. “So no, I don’t want to marry you out of emergency. Ask me again when we have it all sorted out, and I’ll say yes”

He nodded, biting his tongue. He knew he didn't have room to talk back on this, because he knew you were probably right.

“Jesus, Santi” you sighed, shaking your head once again, before you disappeared through the hallway.

—

“I don’t want you to feel like shit over this,” you say, turning away to pick up your coffee. His lips tighten into a sheepish smile before he brings his own cup to his mouth.

A soft frown grows over his face as he points a finger at you, his mouth still full. “So, next time,” he starts, having barely finished swallowing his sip. “Bigger ring, better speech, delivery?” he asks teasingly, testing the waters.

You huff out a small, genuine laugh, relieved he’s taking it lightly, and an easy smile grows over his face when he sees yours.

You lean in against the counter, onto your forearms, humming in reflection.

“Ring is perfect. Speech, delivery… I’d say save your talent in smoothness for our vows” you grin.

“Okay,” he chuckles, “So we're really getting married at some point” he grins, sliding his hand into yours.

“At some point,” you shrug playfully, gently squeezing his hand. “It just has to be the right time” you nod, more serious now.

“The right time…” he hums pensively, nodding slowly.

—

It starts rather innocently, at first, before it becomes a silly little game to him.

The tension regarding the proposal has gradually eased between the both of you, and you have managed to find your regular dynamic again, not needing to sleep on opposite edges of your shared bed anymore.

It happens for the first time two weeks after the proposal, while you are getting ready to go to work; you’re almost done brushing your teeth, Santiago standing by your side doing the same, when he asks, out of the blue, “Would this be the right time?”

You frown at his reflection in the mirror, unsure what he means, leaning above the sink to spit out your foaming toothpaste.

“What?” you ask, turning to him – his toothbrush is hanging from his mouth, his hand holding an open ring box. You freeze, once again, the same way you did the first time.

“Marry me?” he asks, the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth moving as he speaks, his toothpaste-full mouth making the question almost unintelligible. You would think he’s being serious if he didn’t go back to brushing his teeth with his free hand as soon as he asked the question, and if he didn’t immediately follow into breaking into a laugh, rushing to empty his mouth full of toothpaste in the sink.

“Very funny,” you sigh, your heart still thumping inside your chest as you watch him rinse his mouth.

“Oh you should have seen your face, babe” he chuckles facing you again, a playful grin plastered over his face.

“Too bad you will never know my answer to the question,” you tease. He huffs out a laugh, wiping away the bit of dry toothpaste in the corner of your mouth before he kisses you.

The next time it happens is more spontaneous, less staged on his part and more subtle – though still somewhat gently pushy.

You’re trying to assemble a shelf, reading over and over again the instruction manual that might as well be written in another language; Santiago’s sighing as he checks every side and angle of the half built piece of furniture, trying to figure out where it went wrong, when he confidently affirms, “If we can get through this, I think we can go through marriage.”

And from there, it goes on, and on.

It's little jokes about it thrown randomly through the weeks, making you playfully hit his chest with the back of your hand.

It's him getting on one knee, looking up at you with soft eyes, before he eventually just ends up tying his shoe.

It's him opening the ring box at the most random situations.

It all gets so frequent you don’t even get surprised when he kneels to grab something from the shelf when you're out for groceries, then shifting to one knee and dramatically pulling the ring box out of his jacket to present it to you.

“Santi, c’mon, your knees!” you urge him up, offering your hand for help, giggling like a teenager as you look around making sure no one actually thinks he's serious. He laughs and gets up, putting the item he was originally grabbing in the cart. “Are you really carrying that ring everywhere with you?” you scold him, pulling on his arm as you cling to him.

He shrugs. “You never know when it might happen,” he grins playfully.

He's not, in the slightest, kidding. He even does it in the middle of sex once.

He's under you, his grip hot and firm over your hips as you roll against his lap, small gasps leaving your lips swollen from kissing; he pulls your upper body down to his, silencing your desperate moans by licking into your mouth as he fucks up into you, one hand pressed against your back, the other gripping your side.

His hand comes to rest at your neck once he pulls away. “If this doesn’t make you wanna marry me, I don’t know what will” he breathes out, reaching to his bedside table to grab the small box resting there.

You grip his wrist. “Don’t do that to me. You know I’d say yes to anything right now” you whine, drawing a huffed laugh out of him. “You’re not playing fair”

He laughs into your neck, planting a kiss there.

Spring quickly fades into summer, so it gets more and more frequent for you and Santiago to spend your weekend evenings at the boys’; it is at Will’s place this time, so like each time you’re there, they play poker, and because Benny is a sore loser, he ends up hanging out with you by the firepit, further away from the group.

“So, are you actually gonna say yes one day?” Benny asks, handing you your glass refill, pulling the empty chair by your side to sit down next to you.

You smile, amused as you take your glass from Benny’s hand. You know the subject is no secret to anyone, but it still manages to make your heart leap inside your chest each time someone mentions it.

“It would require him to actually ask” you say with a tilt of the head before you take a sip of your drink.

Benny hums thoughtfully.

There’s a silence between you before you can hear a sudden commotion of laughs further away and Frankie’s familiar bragging sneer, breaking the prior focused mood of their poker table. You smile as you watch them, your attention drifting back to Benny when he nudges you with his bottle of beer. “You know, for as long as I’ve known Pope, he’s always had commitment issues.” he nods, a small scoff breaking through. “Could rarely keep a girlfriend long enough for us to see her twice. Hell, you should see how many girls he’s had casual sex with, it’s–”

“Okay Benny, you don’t have to–” you scoff, holding a hand up to stop him.

“I know, I know, it’s not something you wanna hear” he laughs, shaking his head.

“What I mean is if the Santiago Garcia I know is asking you to marry him, he means it.” he shrugs, taking a sip of his beer.

“I know,” you mutter casually, like he just said the most banal thing ever when in reality your stomach flutters at Benny’s words and you suddenly feel like a teenager with a crush.

The night goes on and quiets down until eventually, everyone ends up leaving or going to bed; Will offered his sofa bed for you and Santiago to sleep on, and you both agreed to accept, admitting you were too tired to drive back home.

“So how many games did you win?” you ask him, sliding underneath the thin cover to press yourself against him.

He chuckles, extending his arm so you can slot close to him. “Only one”

“You suck”

He grins at your teasing. “I’ll never be worse than Benny”

You chuckle, pressing your lips against his stubbled cheek. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer against him before he slips it underneath your shirt, his thumb dragging back and forth against your bare skin.

Your mouths meet when his other hand cups your face, his broad hands roaming onto your sides and back when you fully lie over him, the kiss deepening as his tongue slips into your mouth and you start full on making out; you would be fucked if anyone came by the living room to use the bathroom, but either of you could care less.

“Hm, I could ask you to marry me right now” he hums, barely pulling away from your lips; he’s still so close, so close that you can feel him smile. You chuckle, your hand burying into the short curls at the side of his head. “No, I mean it,” he affirms in a serious whisper, adjusting his position under you. “Look, I’m done joking. Marry me”

You back away, enough to be able to read his expression.

Something in his eyes tells you he might be serious, this time. “Really?”

He nods. “Yes. Fuck, I don’t even have the ring right now.”

You grin softly, shifting to rest by his side again. “You’re good. You’re really good.” you prop yourself onto your elbow, your other hand resting against his chest. “Because you’ve done it so many times throughout literally months and I’m actually surprised now that you’re asking for real” he smiles at that, his hand resting over yours.

“You know, I’m still waiting for my answer” he grins.

You shrug playfully. “Eh, you don’t have any ring, so I don’t know–” you tease, stopping when he rolls over you and presses his mouth to yours. You kiss him back, your hands burying into his hair again. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

He smiles contentedly, his eyes softly roaming over your face.

“I meant it the first time I asked” he admits, pinching his lips into a small smile. You mirror it, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone.

“But I get why you said no. And you were right to. But it’s kinda crazy that it’s now happening in Will’s living room” he snorts up a laugh, and you burst out laughing, before you quiet yourself with the palm of your hand against your mouth.

“I know, right? But it could have been at Walmart, so”

He chokes up a laugh, burying his face against your chest.

“Yeah, it could have been at Walmart.”

—

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@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @alexxavicry

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@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @luxisluxurious @dowbastan

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& @missdictatorme :p

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia smut #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia smut #triple frontier #oscar isaac

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lulutaylorsimaginarium · 1 year ago

Text

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words: 1679

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

THE CHAIN MASTERLIST

Part 6

As soon as they were near Caracas, she remembered it all. She remembered the way. Gabby had only been there once, but she remembered the way back to the farm. They couldn’t think of a reason not to let her lead. Even if she was a speed demon.

They found themselves at some big metal gates and an impossibly long dirt road.

When Gabby said that they were going to a farm. Santiago pictured something small, a shack made of spare bits of wood and corrugated iron. Not a homestead with a wraparound porch and fields as far as the eyes could see.

A man in his late fifties walked out the front door and down the front steps as they pulled up. He had dark hair and he was rounder then Santiago had imagined. Not the type that he would have pictured she would fall for.

The guy he was guessing was Sebastian, he shook Frankie’s hand and gestured inside before Frankie nodded his head as Santiago got closer, he heard Sebastian ask

“Where is she?”

She walked out from behind the van. Gabby walked over to him slowly before softly wrapping her arms around Sebastian waist and resting her head on his chest. He brushed down her hair. Running his hand over her head and down her neck. Treating her like she was the most delicate thing in the world.

Gabby got lost in him for a few seconds before getting ripped back out by Sebastian picking her up off the ground. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist, burying her face in his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly

"I am now"

Their voices were muffled by each other's bodies and quiet. Santiago walked her a little away from the group

"What's the story?"

He sat her on top of a wooden fence where she had sat many times before.

"You don’t have to do this"

"It's okay. You asked for help. You never ask for help"

"You don’t have to help just because I asked” she shook her head “It's Rojas"

"You and I have faced worse people"

"If he finds you"

"Honey" he soothed as he held her head in his hands. Fingers intertwined in her hair "He's not going to find me. We'll put the money in the cellar under the old barn. I'm going to put the antique tractor over the top of the trap door. No one will ever know there's a cellar there"

"That's actually really smart"

"It's what Tio Felix used to do with the coca decades ago"

"Sebastian, I’m scared"

He kissed her forehead

“Well, the bad news is that it’s not over yet. Come on” he took her hand and gently pulled her over to the group.

She introduced everyone to Sebastian.

It was all very caveman, with the grunts, the nods and the handshakes.

If this wasn’t so serious, she would have laughed.

They all stood there on the porch trying to escape the sun for as long as they could.Gabby and Sebastian held hands, her other hand wrapped around his wrist . She stood a little closer to him, without realising that she stepped closer

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly

“I made a few calls, sent some feelers out. Rojas has every port and airfield coming into the US on watch. He has people everywhere”

“Which means he has people scattered on the roads out of here” she said

“You’ve already have us covered because of the zillions of coffee beans we stole” Will nodded his head at her “We’re got this”

“Let’s move this stuff before the sun goes down” Sebastian suggested “Do you remember your way to the barn?”

“I do remember the barn” she smirked suggestively at him “I remember that barn very well. Thank you very much”

She was keeping it light, flirtatious, carefree but he knew the weight of this thing was on her chest. Her breathing was shallow, she was rubbing her neck, she was jittery. Gabby was freaking out and all Sebastian wanted to do was take it all away.

She showed them the way before finding the antique tractor was already outside in the sun. There was something about seeing a tractor being towed by another tractor that was funny to Gabby but she explained it away was delirium.

The cellar door was open, and she walked down the stairs before even thinking about it. The room was dark and cool. It was calming. The space was huge.

“Luna?” Sebastian called out “Watch out for spiders”

She suddenly shot up the stairs like her hair was on fire

“Nope, nope” she said to herself “Nope, nope. Nope”

It was the first time that she had been girly this whole time. She brushed her hair and arms as if she was covered in spiders, just the thought was freaking her out.

She walked out of the barn and straight to the house where there were no spiders. Where she knew where everything was.

As much as he hated the fact that they were there. Santiago knew they were somewhere safe. They had actual beds, more food than they needed and time to build up their energy, which they were going to need later on.

He just didn’t like new people.

Sure, Gabby trusted Sebastian but no one else even knew him.

He even had a space to store the money that was unseen.

That alone was enough to have Santiago concerned but it wasn’t just that.

It was the wordless conversations being had and none of them Santiago understood.

He hated being out of the loop.

The guy was even cooking everyone dinner.

Who was this guy? Was he going for sainthood?

It was the mischievous glance between Sebastian and Gabby. It was the history. He felt like he was choking on the history

He just didn’t understand why this guy was under his skin so bad. Why Gabby was grating on him since they pulled up the dirt driveway.

They were close, they were always touching. He had never seen her with anyone like that, not even Frankie.

She was delicate and soft. It was in total contrast to how she was with Santiago. He didn’t mean to take it personally, but it was staring him right in the freakin’ face

It was weird.

After dinner Gabby was clearing the table as everyone else was laughing and having a good time. Sebastian wrapped his arm around her waist, stopping her and dragging Gabby down to his lap

“As much as I hate to admit it” he sighed “I’m thinking you might need to call Gunner”

“No” Frankie protested softly “That’s not going to be cheap”

Santiago frowned confused. Since when had Frankie been materialistic about money.

“He has big planes and we need big planes. Whether it be from here or somewhere else”

“Where to, after that?” Will questioned “If Rojas has every port and airport into the states dialled in”

“Would the army have a base with an airfield or whatever?”

“That would be the Navy” Santiago answered dryly

“Same thing”

“It’s not”

“Military base, whatever” she said annoyed “The Navy has planes?”

“I feel the need” Sebastian told her

“They weren’t air force?”

“Navy”

“Is there any abandoned navy bases with an airfield in Canada?”

“Not abandoned” Frankie told her gently. Her mind was working overtime and she was running on fumes. She was covering it well, but Frankie saw it

“Anyone have connections in Canada?”

“Why Canada?”

“She has a cabin up there” Sebastian answered

“We can siphon the money back into the states slowly that way. Not unless you guys are in a hurry or have any trips to Australia on the cards?” she teased

“I think I’m going to go to bed” Santiago told the table smirking at her as he stood up from the table

“I could have someone that could help us” Will told him “But he is in Alaska”

“Could be far enough away from Rojas to work”

Gabby and Sebastian shared a look before Sebastian nodded his head

“This plan is writing itself, Luna”

“I’ll call Gunner tomorrow” she sighed “Do you have any scales big enough to weight the pay load”

“Big enough to weight cows”

“I can work with that” Frankie answered

“Thank god you are a pilot, Frank”

“I’m still concerned about Gunner”

“I can handle Gunner”

This time it was Frankie and Sebastian who exchanged a look. The guy wasn’t going to want money, no matter what they offered him. He was going to want the thing he had wanted for years and openly so.

He was going to want Gabby.

It was the one thing that he would never have.

She wouldn’t agree to giving him what he wanted. Not even to get them back to the states but Frankie did have a mind to throw Gunner to Rojas, if it come to that.

The world wouldn’t miss him.

Santiago heard Gabby on the staircase around midnight. The house was dark but she had yet to go to bed. The stairs creaked as she was got to the top

“Bear?” she whispered

He heard her gasped before she giggled. He had no doubt that Sebastian was ‘Bear’ and there was also no doubt that Gabby had just been carried off to bed.

Bear and Luna

Santiago would have rolled his eyes if they weren’t already closed.

He couldn’t sleep

It was the damn bed he was in.

It was too soft.

The air was too hot and the sheets had wrapped around him in such a way that he felt like they were trying to kill him.

Santiago didn’t like the unknown and right now. It was nothing but unknown.

It the first time he had heard the name Gunner and since when did Gabby own anything, let alone a cabin in Canada.

This was getting ridiculous.

He sighed as he tossed his arm above his head.

No wonder he couldn’t sleep.

This whole thing was a mess.

#frankie morales #romanticism #santiago garcia #will miller #benny miller #netflix #santiago garcia x oc #triple frontier #ben miller #charlie hunnam #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #garrett hedlund #santiago “pope” garcia #the chain

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