#frankie x maverick

[trulybetty]

dec' x 02 - baking

Prompt: baking Pairing: frankie morales x gn!reader Word Count: 502 Warnings: none, just more domestic fluff AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

Frankie, with his background in engineering and a penchant for precision, was already reading through the recipe you had chosen when you stepped back into the kitchen, his brows furrowed in concentration. He was a man who liked instructions, and clear guidelines he could follow, and was approaching the task of helping you with your annual holiday baking with the same eagerness to learn and excel that he did everything else.

“Okay,” Frankie began, looking up from the recipe. “It says here we need two cups of flour. Do we have a measuring cup?”

You laughed as you reached around his waist to the drawer behind him, scooting him aside to open it. Pulling out the set of metal measuring cups, dangling them from the hook of your finger they swung back and forth as you presented them to him. Only for him to take them and then examine them like they were intricate tools from his own toolkit.

“Then we’re going to need to sift the flour into that bowl,” you said, pointing at the mixer on the countertop behind him.

Frankie nodded, his gaze fixated back on the recipe again as if they were the blueprints of some intricate machine. “Sifting. Got it.” 

His hands, those of a man familiar with both the delicate components of any aircraft engine and the demanding physicality of military life, picked up the sifter with an almost reverent care. 

Leaning back on the counter you watched as he measured the flour, levelling the cup with the back of a knife — precision in every movement.

You couldn't help but smile. It wasn't every day you got to see a man who’d jumped out of airplanes and commanded operations with unwavering focus fussing over a cup of flour.

Frankie eyed the mixer like it had shown up overnight and wasn't a staple fixture in your kitchen. A slight furrow creased at his brow. “Creaming means...?”

You fought back a laugh, you knew he was deep into this task as there was no way Francisco Morales would ever let a possible innuendo like that slip by without comment.

You stepped closer, your proximity to him not unwelcome, and showed him how to use the mixer. “Just like this,” you said, guiding his hands to add the butter cube by cube. “It aerates the butter and will make the cake light and airy.”

As he caught on, you could see the familiar spark of understanding in his eyes, the same spark you've seen when he's solved a complex problem or pieced together a challenging puzzle. 

“So just like ensuring the proper airflow in a jet engine?” he commented with a smirk on his lips making you laugh.

“I'll have to take your word on that Captain,” was your response as you leaned around him to drop in a teaspoon of vanilla.

Frankie's laugh was a rare sound that very few truly got to experience, but there it rang out in the quiet of the kitchen, warm and deep. He placed a kiss on your forehead with a squeeze of your hand before he turned back to the task at hand. The two of you stood watching as the mixer whirled in the bowl as the butter and sugar transformed into a creamy, pale cloud.

#december x 500 #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie x maverick

[sugarcoated-lame]

wip wednesday

(ik it’s technically thursday now i’m a little late lol)

@joelsgreys thank you for tag, my love!! 🧡

sometimes a bride - jake seresin x bradshaw!reader (sequel to always a bridesmaid)

here’s a little snippet <3

“Honestly… I’m kind of freaking out.” You tell your brother as he joins you on the sofa. Your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough that he’s able to hear due to his close proximity.

You’re looking down to where you nervously wring your hands in your lap when Bradley speaks.

“Why? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” His words are matter-of-fact, but his voice is soft in that comforting, brotherly tone that’s only reserved for you.

“I- I don’t know.” You tell him with a light shake of your head. “I guess I’m just nervous?”

The words come out as a question and your gaze lifts to meet Bradley’s before you continue on.

“You know, it’s such a big, important day that I’ve spent so long dreaming of and planning for and– that I’m going to remember for the rest of my life and I just…” your voice trails off as you realize you’re rambling, stopping to take a breath before you continue.

“I just love Jake so much and I… I just want everything to be perfect.”

…

untitled older bf!frankie morales x inexperienced reader - a little snippet from a *very rough* draft of an idea i’ve been working on

Tonight, you find yourself at his apartment for a little date night. The two of you cooked and ate a nice dinner together, and after Frankie cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dishes—which he refused to let you help with, ‘because I’m a gentleman’ as he’d told you with a playful roll of his brown eyes and a soft peck to your cheek, before sending you off to the living room to pick out a movie—the two of you are now sat on his comfy couch to watch said movie.

It’s some newer romcom that you honestly couldn’t remember the plot of, probably couldn’t even remember the title of if you were hard-pressed, because truthfully you haven’t been paying attention to the movie at all. Your mind is currently elsewhere.

You can hardly keep your focus on the film playing in front of you, your thoughts preoccupied by the man sat next to you on the sofa.

How can you be expected to pay attention to anything else when the soft, chocolatey curls that are spilling from the Standard Oil baseball cap you’ve come to learn is a Frankie staple, and his profile—the aquiline nose and the patch in his beard that you love to press sweet little kisses to, and the strong line of his jaw— are all caught in your peripheral?

Frankie’s broad frame almost makes the large piece of furniture look small, his long legs spread out comfortably in front of him and making his well-fitted jeans pull taut against his thick thighs.

no pressure tags: @sebsxphia @sunlightmurdock @hangmanssunnies @joelslegalwhre @blue-aconite @floydsmuse @floydsglasses @bobfloydssunnies @itsokbbygrl @inthe-dark-tonight @joelsgreenflannel @swiftispunk @sio-ina-bottle @topherwrites (sorry if you’ve already been tagged) and leaving the tags open for anyone who wants to share their wips 🧡

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x female!reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #older bf frankie #pedro pascal characters #tag game #wip wednesday

[teenagesublimefan]

CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

✩✩ ✩✩ ✩✩ ✩✩ ✩✩

REQUESTS OPEN :)

MASTERLISTREQUEST GUIDELINES REQUEST PROMPTS

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Please take a minute to read the paragraph below, Thank You :)

All Characters are organized by fandom and alphabetical order. I do not claim any owner ship of any fictional character I write for. Please read my request guidelines before requesting a character from this list. Any character I scratch out I am currently not taking requests for. It will always be x female reader unless otherwise stated.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

PEAKY BLINDER'S; alfie solomons, thomas shelby SONS OF ANARCHY; kip 'half-sack' epps, jax teller TOP GUN: MAVERICK; bradley 'rooster' bradshaw, jake 'hangman' seresin, mickey 'fanboy' garcia, natasha 'phoenix' trace

THE BOYS; colby brock, jake webber, johnnie guilbert, sam golbach, zach justice

MANESKIN; damiano david, victoria de angelis

NFL; andrew beck, joe burrow, nick bosa, tj watts, travis kelce

STURNIOLO TRIPLETS; chris sturniolo, matt sturniolo, nick sturniolo (platonic only)

MISC. PERSONS [and select characters]; jenna ortega, noah kahan, santiago 'pope' garcia, tom hardy ie. james delaney

✩✩ ✩✩ ✩✩ ✩✩ ✩✩

UPDATED [2/23/24]

#peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons x reader #thomas shelby x reader #sons of anarchy x reader #jax teller x reader #top gun maverick x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #jake seresin x reader #mickey garcia x reader #natasha trace x reader #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x reader #travis kelce x reader #andrew beck x reader #joe burrow x reader #nick bosa x reader #tj watts x reader #javier pena x reader #tom hardy x reader #james delaney x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #colby brock x reader #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake webber x reader #sam golbach x reader #zach justice x reader #damiano david x reader

[bullet-prooflove]

Movies Masterlist

Baby Driver Masterlist

Kingsman Masterlist

Top Gun: Maverick

Triple Frontier Masterlist

#triple frontier #baby driver #top gun maverick #kingsman #beau simpson #beau simpson x reader #benny miller #benny miller x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #buddy x reader #merlin kingsman

[skvatnavle]

My very own Pilot

Frankie Morales x Reader

Notes: I don't know what happened. I was standing in the shower, listening to a Top Gun playlist and suddenly thought about my other favorite pilot. I saw similarities and made this in 30 minutes. This is mix of Top Gun Maverick love and Triple Frontier love. It's probably filled with errors, but I love it. Unbeta'ed. Bon Appétit 😆❤️

Words: 1.2K

Walking into the bar with a huge smile, you find your favorite group of guys waiting in a corner, already a pitcher of beer on the table. When you slump down beside Frankie, he puts his arm around you and pull you into a sideways hug. He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek and you blush a little. No matter how much time you spend around him, you always seem to get flustered.

“So… I take it the movie was good?”

Almost wiggling in your seat with joy, you look at Benny with a huge grin, unable to hide your excitement.

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it. Best movie I’ve seen in a long time!”

You tell them as much as you can with out spoiling the plot. You knew they’d probably see it once it was on some sort of streaming service, because they’d told you how much they loved the original Top Gun movie.

“And the cast was amazing. Great actors, sure, but also so fucking hot!”

You grin as you pour some beer into a spare glass. They just shake their heads at you, not surprised. You know they probably hate to hear about it, but they chose to befriend a girl, so it kinda came with the territory. They would always tease you for your little crushes, but you didn’t mind.

“Actors? So plural crushes this time?” Santi grins, sipping his beer. You just bite your lip, nodding.

“I mean, there’s the obvious eye candy. Hangman. Layla almost slipped of her seat when they were all shirtless.”

You pull out your phone, showing them a gif of the beach scene. Frankie frowns as his eyes go down his body, to the little tummy poking out over his belt. Santi just huffs as he points to the muscular guys.

“Real men don’t look like that!”

“I do.” Will says confidently, crossing his arms as he gives Santi a little smirk. You just giggle, swiping to the next picture of a man with glasses.

“And then there was Bob. He was so cute and adorable.”

“Just Bob? What kind of lame callsign is that?” Benny asks in a mocking tone. Looking at him, so not amused, you suck your teeth and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, I don’t know… Benny.” you say, in a teasing voice. He instantly shuts up and sits back in his chair while the others are laughing. Benny just mumbles a soft fuck you as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Well, where was I? Oh, yeah. The best one was Rooster.”

“Rooster?” Santi snickers, clearly finding it funny. You know they’re just teasing you, but it’s still annoying.

“Yeah, Rooster. He’s the son of Goose? You know, ‘Talk to me, Goose’?”

“Yeah, Princesa, we’ve seen it.”

Mouthing a soft ‘I’m sorry’, you pause for a bit, realizing they might have reached their max limit of your fangirling. But Frankie just nudges at your shoulder, gesturing for you to go on. You could always count on Frankie. Somehow, he never got tired of your ramblings, seemingly able to listen to you for hours.

“Well, anyways. Rooster is so hot. I mean… for one, he’s a pilot. Well, they all are, but you know what I mean. Hello, competence kink.”

Frankie shots you a glance, frowning slightly, before the corners of his mouth turns upwards into a soft smile.

“He’s probably the kind of guy that listens to 70’s and 80’s music. He even sings ‘Great Balls of Fire’, like Goose did.”

Once again, Frankie can’t help but smile. Even the others are smirking, knowing full well how much Frankie loves to jam out to music before the 90’s.

“And don’t even get me started on that mustache. I don’t know what it is, but he makes me wanna find a boyfriend with a mustache.”

Giggling, you take a huge sip of your beer. You don’t even notice how the others are looking at you or how red Frankie has become, his cheeks practically burning.

“God, I’ve already read so much fanfiction with him it’s embarrassing. He really is a total dreamboat.”

They all know about your love for fanfiction, but when they’re all silent, you look up from your phone. They are all looking at you, all with knowing smiles. Like there is some joke you’re not in on.

“What?”

Benny leans in, practically grinning from ear to ear.

“You basically just described Frankie.”

You look to your side, finally seeing how flustered Frankie is, barely able to look you in the eye. Rubbing the back of his neck, he offers you a soft smile. And suddenly it hits you. You had just described him. You’ve always admired his skills, practically been a puddle that one time he took you flying. The way his hands danced over the controls and how great he had looked in that headset. You’d brushed it off then, but now you couldn’t get the thought out of your head.

One thing you and Frankie had always enjoyed together, were the classics. Whenever you were fixing a car or just sitting on his terrace, you’d always rock out amazing music like Fleetwood Mac, Journey, Prince. Anything from before the 90’s, really.

As for the mustache. Now that you think about it, you’d always found Frankie attractive. But thinking he was way out of your league, you never made a move, settling for just being his friend. Rather being stuck in the friendzone than not having him in your life at all.

Frankie turns towards you slightly, clearly nervous. He swallows hard before looking into your eyes, his beautiful brown eyes always drawing you in. Suddenly unable to breathe, you just stare at him, hoping he can find the courage to say something.

“Well, I… I might not be as sexy as that Chicken guy-”

“Rooster” Benny add softly from the side. He quickly retracts when he sees the annoyed look on Frankie’s face, putting his hands up in defense. All you can do is giggle softly in disbelief. Is this really happening?

“But… If you want a mustache, I got one.”

“Jesus, Frankie” Santi whispers in horror. They all hide their faces at Frankie’s horrible pick up line. Frankie just nods in agreement, mentally scolding himself for being so terrible at this. But you reach out, cupping his cheek, slowly turning his face to yours. Your eyes meet again and you give him your brightest smile.

“If you’re trying to ask me out, I’d love to.”

“Even after that horrible pick-up line?”

You give Benny the finger and just as you move in for a kiss, you see Frankie throw a handful of peanuts after him. As your lips finally meet Frankie’s, you hear Benny squealing as the nuts hit him. But the sound soon fades away, everything goes silent, as you feel his warm lips against yours.

The kiss is unlike any you’ve had before, sending shivers through your body. His hand comes up to your cheek, slowly moving to the back of your head, pulling you closer. But too soon he breaks away, the sound of wolf whistles filling the air. Looking around, you see the other guys smirking, cheering you on.

Frankie chuckles as he looks into your eyes, gesturing towards the door.

“You wanna go?”

Biting you lip, you nod excitedly as you grab your jacket, silently thanking your friend for dragging you to the movies. It would now and forever be your favorite movie.

Thank you for reading <3

Tagging: @fictionalnerdery @lucy-sky @yespolkadotkitty @a-reader-and-a-writer @loverhymeswith @green-socks @pascalslittlebrat @chasingdreamer @kirsteng42 @e-dubbc11 @mindidjarin @insomniamamma @little-mrs-morales @pilothusband @songsformonkeys @absurdthirst @charnelhouse @221bshrlocked @sherala007 @anaaaispunk @mmurdock85 @joalsglasses @sparrows-corner

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco morales x reader #benny miller #will miller #santiago garcia #top gun maverick #triple frontier fanfiction

[stvrdustalexx]

OKAY PLS I NEED SONG INSPIRED FICS.

i’m mostly reading angst rn because i got broken up with BUT I ALSO WANT FLUFF

recommend any fic possibly and of any fandom y’all can think of plsssss i also kind of want to make a recommendation list for song fics SO pls share so i can share the love they deserve

#song fics #sorry for the spam of tags but it’s a must for this okay #fluff #angst #peaky blinders #house of the dragon #acotar #top gun maverick #aegon targaryen x reader #eddie munson x reader #frankie morales x reader #stranger things #top gun #azriel x reader #joel miller x reader #neteyam x reader #jake sully x reader #avatar #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader #harry potter x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tom riddle x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #arisu x reader #taylor swift

[kolsmikaelson]

welcome to the show!

it is blurb night once again! i want to get into writing more before i lose motivation again and i figured what better way to do that than blurb night? so, send in a request with a prompt and character (listed below). please make sure to specify which prompt list in your request. (ex: can i request prompt 8 from dialogue 2 with bradley bradshaw) i will be trying to to get these out as soon as possible but i won’t force a blurb out so please keep that in mind.

characters —

bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw

jake ‘hangman’ seresin

robert ‘bob’ floyd

conrad fisher

eddie munson

frankie ‘catfish’ morales

prompt lists —

dialogue 1

dialogue 2

different ways to say “i love you”

romantic confessions

idiots in love

tagging some friends : @2manytabsopen @savoies @ilyasorokinn @boqvistsbabe @jostystyles @sunshinefarabees

#blurb night #top gun x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin #hangman seresin #bob floyd #top gun: maverick #conrad fisher #frankie morales #catfish morales

[nevilles-insinuations]

I have been caught in the snares of Top Gun: Maverick, despite only seeing the movie once, months ago 😳. But it's the tumblr way. Now obsessed with the boys and now I'm working on a Hangman fic 👀

#frankie talks #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #robert floyd x reader

[mrssturnioloo]

taking requests for obx, outer range, tgm, and triple frontier!! please see request guidelines before requesting!!

#phoenixssugarbaby #top gun maverick #outer range #outerbanks #triple frontier #rhett abbott #bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #santiago gracia x reader #santiago garcia #benny miller #william miller #benny miller x reader #william miller x reader #jj maybank imagine #sarah cameron imagine #kiara carrera x reader #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward #kiara carrera

[multifandomfanfiction]

Coming soon!

Love is a Battlefield

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, son of Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, met Analisse “Eagle-Eye/Songbird” Morales, daughter of Frankie “Catfish” Morales during their Top Gun training. Now it’s several years later and they’re reuniting for a special Top Gun mission. Except things are different now. Analisse isn’t the same girl Rooster knew. Especially after the failed mission with her father’s Delta Force buddies in the Colombian rainforest. Will these two make it out of this mission alive? Or is history doomed to repeat itself?

This is a Top Gun x Triple Frontier crossover.

(I don’t know when I’ll be posting it, since it’ll follow the events of Top Gun: Maverick. I’m hoping it’s streaming soon. Or maybe I can find a script somewhere online.)

#rooster/oc #rooster imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish morales imagine #top gun imagines #top gun: maverick #top gun:maverick imagines #triple frontier imagines #triple frontier #top gun x triple frontier #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal

[for-a-longlongtime]

IV. Wild card

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Marcus Pike

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI Words: 1315 (idk, I'd better put this under a cut now) A/N: Well. I thought the helicopter blowjob from the prev ficlet was all done, but Frankie decided it was far from that. So I take zero responsibility, this is all on him. Unbeta-ed. Good Boy™ reference courtesy of @theywhowriteandknowthings 😘Dividers by @saradika.

< Previous Part

Frankie is so hard he can barely breathe. Knees bruising on the metal floor of the chopper, sounds from outside warning him that he’s screwed if anyone comes in here, but it doesn’t matter. It’s all worth it. The way Marcus cries out his name, the taste of him in his mouth, trembling fingers in Frankie’s hair. Fuck, the way he’s pulling at his hair, just as Frankie had told him to. 

“Fra- fuuck, Frankie, I’m gonna…” 

“Good.” His voice is muffled by Marcus’ dick in his mouth, but Marcus twitching under him makes it clear he’s heard him. Frankie presses the heel of his hand against himself, hissing at how hard he’s throbbing from the adrenaline. He’s not gonna last much longer himself, more cock drunk than he’s been in months. This isn’t something he normally does, give blowjobs in a chopper while he’s on assignment. But the moment he had laid eyes on Marcus that morning he knew this was going to happen. 

Right now, he has to fight his instincts in order to stay on his knees, reminding himself that he can’t take this further on base. He can’t pull Marcus down to the floor and spread him out, use his tongue to explore more until he feels him pulse around it. Until he can take what he’s been wanting since that day at the gym and just bury himself into that tight heat, fuck him until Marcus comes hard against his belly - hopefully pulling even more at his hair than he’s doing already. He can’t do that, not here, not now, but his heartbeat thudding loudly in his head is trying to convince him otherwise.

Frankie pulls his mouth off Marcus, hushing his surprised groan of protest. A quick lick over his fingers before he slides them behind Marcus’ sack, earning himself another gasp as Marcus’ jaw drop in pleasure, hips bucking from the pressure on his taint. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. Something about that earnest Good Boy™ composure just coming apart riles Frankie up even more. 

He fumbles to open his khakis with one hand and hisses in relief when his fingers meet his cock, starting to jerk himself off fast and hard. “You gotta come for me,” he barely manages, his voice sounding so rough that he hardly recognizes it. “Else I’m not gonna be able to stop myself from fucking you on that floor.”

“Jesus,” Marcus whimpers as he shakes his head, almost in disbelief as he stares down at Frankie. “You can’t just fucking say that, you…”

It’s too much to look at Marcus' face right now - way too much. “I can’t say that, huh?” Frankie tries to stop his moan as he fucks his own fist, pressing his face against Marcus’ stomach as he inhales the heady scent. Flattens his tongue as he licks over the warm skin, musk and salty sweat and something else, feeling the muscles contract in pleasure, and then Marcus’ hand is suddenly back in his hair. 

“Think you like it though, Marcus… all of it,” Frankie groans, pushing his head up into the touch as he waits for Marcus’ tug to come, his own fingers pausing on his cock. When the tug happens, harder than expected, it feels like electricity running down his spine, shooting straight for his cock and short circuiting his verbal filter. He laughs hoarsely, then decides to just take his chance as he lets his fingers slide all the way back between Marcus’s legs. “I think you want just that, for me to fuck you right here,” he runs a finger tip over the rim, and Marcus’ stuttering breath speaks volumes about double entendre. “Right here. And on the floor.”

“Fuck, please,” Marcus’ voice breaks on a sob, and Frankie doesn’t think anymore - he just slides his mouth back on Marcus’ cock, taking him in all the way. He accepts the few rough thrusts into his mouth, hears the way Marcus whines because of Frankie's knuckle rubbing against the tight muscle, and then it’s over - the taste of white hot heat flooding his senses, and Marcus’ body trembling hard in that pilot chair.

Frankie leans back as he takes a few breaths, taking his time to drink in the sight of Marcus’ afterglow - the Standard Heating Oil cap still resting on his head. “So fucking pretty,” he says quietly without thinking, then laughs at how cockdrunk he sounds while gazing at the man. Fuck. I like him. Don’t go there, Morales - not a good idea. 

The blush that promptly reddens Marcus’ face makes Frankie laugh again. He looks away before he feels too much like a foolish grinning idiot, turning his attention to his leaking cock in his right hand. So damn close from only blowing Marcus. He tugs his foreskin gently up over the head, whimpering by the sensation as he strokes his balls with his other hand, searching for the quickest way towards release, suddenly very aware of how anyone could walk in on them here. When he looks back up at Marcus, he sees him hungrily staring down at him, breathing still heavy and his eyes possibly even darker than before he came.

“Let me give you a hand,” Marcus says, but when Frankie tightens his grip on his cock, jerking himself hard under the observing gaze, Marcus whimpers as he licks his lips. “Fuck. You look… God, you look gorgeous like that.”

“A voyeur, huh?” Frankie tries to make a joke out of it, but he’s preening by how unabashedly Marcus is admiring him, despite how messy he must look at the moment.

“Not always. But I like watching you, yeah.” Marcus smiles, and once again something tugs inside of Frankie, something that really shouldn’t be getting to him this much - not for a hookup with a guy who is clearly also seeing someone else. But the attention is nevertheless exhilarating.

“Come here.” Marcus takes off the cap and places it on the console as he moves to the edge of his seat, pushing back some of the sweaty hair on Frankie’s forehead. Frankie closes his eyes as he feels the fingers combing through his hair, playing with his curls, and can barely hold back the sigh.

“Feels good.”

“Yeah? Good. You really like that, hmmm?” Marcus’ voice is quiet and lower now, fingers brushing over Frankie’s scalp towards the back of his neck. “Like it enough to help you get off?”

Frankie nods, almost too eagerly in response, and he feels the precum slicking him up even more, fueled by the exploratory caresses through his hair. “Yeah,” he breathes, then holds his breath when he feels the tightening grip of Marcus’ fingers on him.

“Look at me.” Marcus’ voice is steady now, demanding, and Frankie obeys without hesitation. He's met by Marcus leaning forward now, his face a lot closer than it was a moment ago, eyes intense. “You wanna come?”

Frankie nods wordlessly, too focused on the fingers in his hair to think of anything else at all - and then Marcus tugs, and tugs, and give a third tug that makes Frankie cry out as the flashes of blissful pain shoot through him. “Fuck,” he gasps as he’s shaking, and a pleased smile plays over Marcus’ lips.

“Good. You’re gonna come like this, all over your hands. Sitting on your knees in front of me, because... yeah,” he hears Marcus’ voice tremble for a moment, can tell how much it’s turning him on too. “Got that?”

Again Frankie nods, his balls almost uncomfortably tight now as he jerks himself off faster and faster. Then Marcus’ fingers tug so hard at his hair that there’s no further warning from Frankie’s body. He comes right there, gasping for air as his head is pulled back all the way, feeling like his scalp is on fire and blasting the flames through his body. So consumed by how hard his orgasm hits that for a moment he forgets where he is, that he really should not be this loud here, but - fuck. 

Fuck, it’s SO good.

Main masterlist | < Previous Part | Next Part > Follow @longlongtime-updates for fic updates!

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #marcus pike #frankie morales x marcus pike #triple frontier #pedro pascal fanfiction #tim rockford #maverick series #my writing #wip

[trulybetty]

dec' x 01 - starry night

Prompt: starry night Pairing: frankie morales x gn!reader Word Count: 502 Warnings: just domestic fluff Notes: this is maverick and frankie - while maverick is written as a f!reader insert for the main series, this can be read as gender neutral. the future of these two is still being debated, so this may or may not be canon for them. but please enjoy! AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

Underneath the vast expanse of the early evening sky, the two large red maples that took up residence in your backyard were sparse with the change of seasons. The once blazing red leaves that had lit up the space were now scattered on the ground, a chore that you had been putting off. Looking up, the bare spindly branches swayed gently in the breeze. You watched as a leaf broke free, following its spiral down to join its fallen comrades on the grass.

“It’s freezing Frankie,” you whispered again, your breath forming tiny clouds in the cold air.

“It’s not that bad,” he murmured back, his voice a low rumble you felt more than heard, his breath mixing with yours, forming a delicate fog in the chilly air.

“Says you ex-Delta Force and cold camping enthusiast.” The pile of blankets over the two of you did little to stave off the chill that the early December night brought with it.

Frankie chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through the quiet space between you. “Mav, it’s the beginning of December, it’s barely winter yet.” His eyes were on the night sky, tracing the constellations with a fondness that was almost childlike.

You pulled one of the many blankets—pulled from the coziness of your home and in addition to Frankie’s military-grade sleeping bags—up under your chin. “I’m not made for this,” you protested mildly, your body instinctively turning on its side towards Frankie seeking warmth.

This elicited another quiet laugh from Frankie. “You grew up here,” he reminded you, his whisper blending into the night.

“Doesn't mean I'm cut out for it,” you replied, a playful challenge in your tone. The soft crinkles around his eyes, as he smiled, mirrored your amusement at your playful back and forth.

“I think you’re the only person from the Pacific Northwest I know who doesn’t like camping.” he teased.

“Why when I can enjoy the warm comforts of my own home?” you retorted, though the truth was you’d brave any discomfort just for moments like these with him.

The conversation fell into a contented silence, both of you simply listening to the world around you—the distant hoot of an owl, the whispering leaves, and the occasional soft snore from the bundled forms between you. This had been a ritual born from Frankie’s love of the outdoors and a desire to share it and pass it on to your daughters, a tradition that had woven itself into the fabric of your family life in more ways than one.

“How are we supposed to get them inside?” you asked after a while, glancing down at the two small, peaceful faces nestled between you, their chests rising and falling in the easy rhythm of deep sleep.

Frankie’s hand reached out in the darkness, finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. His touch was full of reassurance and grounded you in the moment. “They’re warm enough for now, just enjoy the starry night, Mav. We can worry about the rest later.”

#december x 500 #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie x maverick

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Grays

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Grays Part II }

Rating: M

Summary: Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head.

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, no physical descriptions other than that Reader has hair that can be dyed, not-quite-friends to *respectfully looking* dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendos, lots of teasing and banter.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: The origin story is here if you missed it. This is dedicated to my Frankie soul sister LJ @prolix-yuy who encouraged me to write this many months ago ❤️ As always, I’m an anxious mess writing for a new-to-me Pedro boy, so please be gentle with me (cos it's my birthday week) 🥺

I have a part 2 (with smut) in mind. I love where this leaves off, but who am I kidding. I probably won’t be able to help myself 😂

The bell on the door chimes with a sweet tinkle, cutting through the low, insistent purr of the hair clipper buzzing in your grasp. You don’t look up as you spy broad shoulders and a battered Standard Heating Oil cap crossing the threshold out of the corner of your eye.

‘Are you lost, Morales?’ you drawl indifferently, focused on the task at hand. ‘I have an appointment with Pope today, not you.’

‘He booked it under his name. Thought you’d take it as a prank if I called in myself.’

You look up to meet his gaze reflected in the mirror sitting in front of Greg, your current customer. ‘I wonder why he’d think that.’

Frankie shrugs, leaning against the reception counter with his arms crossed. ‘Beats me.’

You snort. ‘Really? You’ve insisted loudly and repeatedly for as long as I’ve known you that you don’t see the point of going to a hairstylist when you can have Pope cut your hair with kitchen scissors in his bathtub.’

‘C’mon, Shiv.’

‘Oh, he knows my name,’ you gasp sarcastically. You turn to Greg, who’s clearly amused by this exchange, and loop him in. ‘He usually just grunts at me.’

At this point, Ashton - your apprentice and all-round salon maverick - makes an appearance. Clearly having caught the tail-end of your conversation with Frankie, he glances between the two of you with an arched eyebrow. ‘Are we back to chasing customers away, boss?’

‘Sit his ass down but he doesn’t get a free drink,’ you instruct. ‘I’ll get to him when I get to him.’

Ashton goes ahead and ignores your orders point blank, per usual. After hanging up Frankie’s jacket and settling him at the station furthest away from you in the far corner of the salon, you see him sneakily give him a coffee. He can never resist the handsome ones.

You take your sweet time with Greg, cleaning up his sideburns, even though you’re basically done with him - just to tick off your waiting customer.

Not that it works, and you know it won’t. He just sits there, his wide frame filling up the chair, still as a rock. The dog-eared, months-old magazines strategically placed on the table for idle reading lie untouched. That’s Francisco Morales for you.

You’ve been orbiting each other since sixth grade, as all kids in your close-knit neighbourhood do. In fact, most of your customers went to your school. 

You don’t even remember how it started - probably at a sleepover - you discovered one day that you’re handy with box hair dye. By freshman year, you were colouring your fellow classmates’ hair in the girls’ toilets after school, earning enough pocket money to keep your cabinet at home fully-stocked with new hair products on rotation.

Your ever-changing hair colour got you into trouble with the headmaster more times than you can count, who nicknamed you Shape Shifter. Your friends abbreviated it to Shifter, then over the years, whittled it down to Shiv, and it stuck.

After being gifted a set of styling scissors for Christmas one year, you started hanging out at the neighbourhood salon, hustling for an apprenticeship. You practised what you observed on your fellow students, giving out haircuts on the bleachers on non-game days for a couple of dollars (the fee waived if something went disastrously wrong).

That’s how you first met Benny - his then cheerleader girlfriend took him in for a haircut when it got too long for her liking. When you eventually opened your own salon years later, he was your first paying customer, having come home after being honourably discharged from the army.

During the early days, when you struggled to fill your appointments and he couldn’t win a fight to save his life, you made a pact. You would do his hair at a heavy discount for his posters and promotions, and in return, he would let you use his photos for the salon’s marketing.

And it worked. Well, not that you had anything to do with him turning his fortunes around on the MMA circuit, but he had everything to do with getting customers through your door. It only got busier when Santi joined the ranks a couple of years later, and even though Will only shows up when his hair gets really unruly, they both sit in front of your camera with no complaint in return for mate’s rates.

Having these guys on your salon’s social media keeps both the gents and the ladies booking up your appointments.

Frankie Morales, though, is a different animal.

When you finally appear over his left shoulder, his coffee is all gone and he meets your eyes in the mirror nonchalantly. He’s leaning his whole weight on his right elbow on the armest, his left arm outstretched and blunt nails tapping on the table, the only hint of impatience he’s giving away.

He’s good at that - he’s the laid-back one out of the boys, the one who hangs back and observes with arms crossed, but quick to crack a grin and throw in a wicked barb when the occasion calls for it. Nothing ever seems to faze him, and probably nothing does - you hear that makes a good pilot, and from what Pope lets on, he’s a damn good one.

It also makes for highly effective bait for the ladies. He’s a popular fixture on the local bar scene - let’s face it, all of the boys are. You’ve seen him in action more than once when Benny or Pope invites you along on a night out, more often than not without Will since he had a baby girl with his high school sweetheart last year. Frankie’s brooding, quiet, beer-sipping act often works better than Benny’s over-the-top flirting or Pope’s Casanova bit.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Hands on your hips, you goad him, ‘Alright Morales, how do I know you’ll pay up, you cheap bastard?’

‘Pope says to put it on his tab.’

‘Music to my ears.’ You tap him on the shoulder. ‘Sit up and off with the cap.’

With a grumble, Frankie lifts the cap up by the beak, ducking his head as he does so. He tosses it onto the table offhandedly and shifts in his seat, but you’re not fooled by his unconvincing air of indifference. From the way he plasters his palms to the top of his denim-clad thighs, as if to stop them from fidgeting, you know he’s feeling vulnerable. 

You can’t say you’ve ever seen Frankie without his headgear - now that you think about it, he’s been wearing it since high school. Heck, he might have gone through several incarnations of that blasted hat in the years in between. You’ve caught glimpses when he lifts it up to fix his hair, but otherwise, all you see is what peeks out from underneath, the longer wisps that coil around his ears and the curls at the back. 

As it turns out, there’s really nothing to hide - sure, the cut is blunt and his hair lacks shine, but both can be easily fixed. You step into his space and comb through his locks, starting at the base of his skull and working your way up the sides. 

The contact startles him - he practically jumps out of his skin, and you don’t miss the way the veins on the back of his hands pop and he digs his nails into his legs.

'Easy, boy,' you soothe with a teasing undertone, earning yourself a glower from the pilot. As much as you enjoy needling him, you do want your customers to be comfortable. So you let slip a deliberate but genuinely appreciative hum as the dark tendrils, subtly tinged with grays, part softly at your prying fingertips. ‘Wow, your curls are really thick.'

He looks up, an unsure frown on his brow. ‘Oh. Is that bad?’

‘No, Morales, it’s definitely a compliment,’ you tell him encouragingly - your bark has always been worse than your bite. ‘What do you use to wash your hair? It’s a bit dry.’

He shrugs. ‘Shampoo.’ At your insistent stare, he snaps, ‘What?’

‘Don’t lie to me, Morales,’ you warn him in a stern voice.

He huffs and gives in. ‘Fine. It’s a 2-in-1 body wash. I get it at the gas station, happy?’

You shoot him a smug grin as he rolls his eyes. ‘Well, you’re using proper shampoo from now on, and conditioner.’ He opens his mouth, a complaint on the tip of his tongue, when you hold a finger up at him. ‘Don’t argue with me, mister. I’ll throw in a couple of bottles on the house to get you started.’

‘Fine,’ he concedes. Unfailingly polite even when grumpy, he adds, ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Your trusty swivelling stool screeches in protest when you drag it over on its wheels, before you take a seat and address the elephant in the room. ‘So - I’m guessing you’re here because of the wedding.’

You get a grunt in response. Scratching a particularly scrappy patch of his beard that has turned prematurely silver, he says, ‘My ma says I should cover up my old man grays for it.’

You snort, shaking your head. ‘Ha! And you tell your mother I say - hell no, ma’am! I will do no such thing.’

Frankie blinks at your unexpectedly adamant response. ‘What?’

‘I said, hell no,’ you repeat. Turning his head to the side with two fingers on his stubbled cheek, you comb his locks upwards to study the way the grays blend in softly with the umber, matching the ashen flecks in his beard. He doesn't start as badly at your touch this time, but there’s a telltale tick in his jaw, and you can almost hear the tension that thrums just below his skin where a late summer tan still lingers.

‘See how your grays are mainly coming out on the underside?’ you point out. ‘I like the way they just peek through the brown, it gives more depth to your curls. Natural highlights, if you will.’

He looks unconvinced and swipes at a smattering of silver with dismissive fingers. ‘Dunno. Thought the grays make me look old.’

You chuckle. ‘You’re no spring chicken anymore, Morales, and I mean it in a good way. Grays are natural - they will look even better when you start using actual shampoo and conditioner. Trust me, the salt and pepper works on you. I’m not dyeing your grays, and that’s that.’

For the first time today, Frankie turns his head and looks directly into your eyes. ‘My mother’s coming back to town for the wedding, you know. And she remembers where you live.’

You laugh. ‘Go ahead and send her my way, you know I’m not scared of her.’

He scoffs at your big talk. ‘You should be.’

Your relationship with the Morales matriarch is complicated, to say the least. She was always hard on you when you were a kid, thinking you were too wild and undisciplined. Now that you’re grown, you’re still torn between your admiration for her as a single mother who raised a good man, and the woman who never tires of dishing out criticism, warranted or not.

You give him a reassuring pat on the back, solid and warm under your touch. ‘Leave your mother to me, Morales. The grays stay, and I’ll make sure you steal the show at the party.’

‘Your funeral,’ he quips.

‘You just worry about getting yourself to the wedding,’ you retort, cracking your knuckles. ‘Now, are you ready for some pampering?’

Frankie rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth tick up in a vaguely upward direction - and you take it as a win.

‘Relax, Morales.’

‘I am relaxed,’ he insists through gritted teeth.

‘You’re about as relaxed as a cow on the butcher’s block. Unclench.’

For someone as economical with words as he is, his body certainly says a lot. Every single part of him seems hellbent on making his discomfort known. He breathes a frustrated exhale through his nose, brow deeply furrowed, his glare burning holes into the ceiling.

The leather seat of the backwash barely contains his tall build, his t-shirt stretched to the seams across his chest as he leans back into the basin. He’s bouncing his left leg irritably, the tight denim straining against his lap.

You try - valiantly - not to gape too obviously at the conspicuous bulge nestled snugly between his thighs under his belt buckle. But you can’t avert your eyes from something of that size. It’s against the laws of physics. Or something.

Even from where you’re standing, at the top of the basin peering down the slope of his body, its heft is clearly testing the structural integrity of the zipper of his jeans. Imagine the view from the other side -

Clearing your throat, you bodily press down on Frankie’s shoulders which are coiled up like the hood of an angry python, forcing them to loosen up. He jerks as if he’s a copper wire and you’re electricity. You tease, ‘So sensitive. You act like you’ve never felt a woman’s touch before, Morales.’

‘You know that’s not true,’ he growls at you, the prominent vein in his neck starting to pulse in frustration.

‘No, you’re right - I do know,’ you smirk, dragging out your syllables.

Your tone has him frowning at you, upside down. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean - I know,’ you repeat with a conspiratorial wink.

He narrows his eyes at you. ‘What do you know, Shiv?’

You wriggle his eyebrows at him suggestively, enjoying yourself far too much. ‘I own a salon, Morales. I hear things from the ladies about town.’

One large palm reaches up to shield his face in embarrassment, a pained groan escaping between the gaps of his fingers. ‘For fuck’s sake - kill me now.’

You laugh, wrestling his hand from his face to with an impish grin. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve only heard good things so far - Frankie big boy Morales.’

He blushes so hard that his ears and neck go a livid red, and for a minute, you’re actually worried that he’d pass out from not enough blood reaching his heart. Not keen on the prospect of having to explain to the emergency services that you teased the poor man into an aneurysm, you turn on the water and cut short your little chinwag with a good-natured chuckle. 

His hands are still tightly clamped around the armrest when you carefully run the shower head along his hairline and behind his ears, soaking his curls. His biceps flex from the tight grip and the lean muscles strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. 

At least he closes his eyes when you start with the shampoo. The velvety lather froths as you patiently wash his hair, which clings to his wet curls like vanilla frosting. The deep crease between his brows eases with each gentle swipe into his locks, and the invisible force pulling his lips downwards slackens. By the time you rinse out the bubbles, you don’t miss the way the tension in his body unwittingly goes with it down the drain.

When your nails slide slickly into his hair with the conditioner, his stubborn body finally, slowly unfurls. His head tips back of its own accord, baring the column of his strong neck as he leans inadvertently into your touch. Colour returns to his knuckles when he releases his death grip on the backwash. 

You smile to yourself, scraping your fingertips along his scalp in a firm massage, watching his chest rise and fall as he teeters on the brink of consciousness.

As your thumbs trace a confident path down the back of his skull, they appear to find a particularly sensitive spot near the base of his neck, and it's as if a switch is flipped. You witness the exact moment he breaks - his back arches off the leather seat, his obstinate lips part with a strangled half-sigh catching in his throat as he yields his full weight into the palm of your hands.

If you're not careful, you could get used to this.

‘Still with me, Morales?’ you tease quietly.

He garbles incoherently, and you grin.

Frankie practically molds into the chair like warm wax when you shepherd him back to the styling station. You’re so chuffed with yourself that you don’t even feel the need to gloat at the way his eyes are glazed over and how his head lolls into the soft pressure when you run a fluffy towel through his hair. The man recoiling at the mere brush of your fingers a distant memory.

You run an assessing eye over him, brushing out his locks to gauge your game plan. ‘I like this length on you, so I’ll just trim the split ends and tidy up your sideburns. You’ll benefit from some layering too - it’s a bit heavy on top right now.’

From the way he blinks owlishly at you, you know he doesn’t catch a single word. He shrugs and says matter-of-factly. ‘You can’t do worse than Pope.’

The salon is quiet this afternoon, as it tends to be on Wednesdays. You let him enjoy the peace for a little bit and tap your foot to Ashton’s playlist as your styling scissors move over his curls in metallic snips.

‘Tip your head forward for me,’ you instruct, sliding around the back of his head on your wheels as you probe, ‘So - how are you feeling about the wedding?’

The fabric of his t-shirt bunches over his shoulders as they quirk noncommittally.

‘It’s just a few days away.’

He makes an indifferent noise. But you’re not so easily dissuaded from conversation, and he knows it.

‘Can’t be easy - watching your ex get married.’

Frankie pins you with a long-suffering stare in the mirror. ‘We broke up a year ago.’

Getting onto your feet, you ruffle your fingers through the crown of his curls. ‘Yeah, but you dated for years. She sure moved on quick.’

He huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Swapping out the styling scissors for blending shears, you argue, ‘What? It’s a legitimate observation. I’m just making conversation here.’

‘Or we could just sit here quietly.’

Ha. As if you ever listen to him. You press on, ‘Why did she invite you anyway?’

Frankie’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender as he humours you. ‘It’s a damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t kind of situation, I guess. The whole town’s invited.’

‘You sure she isn’t trying to flaunt it in your face or something?’

‘Flaunting implies I still care. I don’t.’

You give him a juvenile nudge nudge, wink wink. ‘Well, on the bright side, you’ll definitely get laid, being the heartbroken ex and all. Chicks love that shit.’

He dispatches a side-long stare in your direction. ‘I’m not heartbroken, and that’s not why I’m going. And you know none of this is any of your business, right?’

‘You’re no fun,’ you pout.

He quips, ‘As a professional hairstylist, you really should be better at making polite conversation.’

You snort. ‘Do you really think it’s a good idea to call me rude when I have scissors in my hands?’

Frankie watches you work in the comfortable lull that’s settled between you, gliding the blades along strands of his curls pulled taut, before running a fine-toothed comb through to brush out the loose tufts. Soft coils land on the floor around his chair as you work your way methodically through his layers.

‘Are you going to the wedding?’ he asks eventually.

You shrug. ‘Maybe, depends on my schedule. I gotta say, I’m kind of curious to see how tacky it will be.’

At his eyebrow sternly cocked, you argue, ‘I know she’s your ex and all, but she’s always been a bit tacky. I mean, that remodel of your house was just tragic.’

Frankie frowns. ‘How do you know all this? You’ve never been to my house.’

You wink. ‘Benny tells me everything when I do his hair.’

He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Of course. Benjamin fucking Miller.’

You give him a pat on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’m on your side, if it helps.’

‘I don’t need you on my side.’

You flash him an insufferable grin. ‘Too bad, Francisco. I am and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

The hairdryer drowns out any further conversation, and Frankie quietly studies you as you cord your fingers through his hair, ruffling it as it dries.

It’s still a bit damp when you switch off the hairdryer and reach up to pull a couple of jars from the shelf above. ‘On the day of the wedding, I want you to wash your hair just before you style it. You have a hairdryer at home, right?’

He throws you a pointed look. ‘I’m not a heathen.’

You grin. ‘Down boy, just checking. Now, you’ll dry your hair until it’s still a bit wet, like so.’ Presenting the styling mousse to him, you say, ‘Then go on and grab some product - you only need a dollop.’

He dips his index finger into the pot, scooping up a generous blob. Your attention is unexpectedly piqued at the sight of his hands. 

Have they always been so big?

Realising he’s staring at you in wait, you shake yourself out of it. ‘Ok, rub the mousse onto your fingertips and run them all over your hair, combing from root to end.’

Frankie does as he’s told, face set to a serious scowl as he impeccably goes over each section of his locks, staring into the mirror to make sure he gets every strand. For the first time, you see the pilot in him up close, and you wonder if he’s this thorough about other things, like -

Laundry, your mind interrupts as it careens on the brink of the metaphorical gutter. Get your shit together, Shiv.

‘Good,’ you smile when he’s done, hoping he doesn't see the strain in it. ‘Now, I want you to rake your fingers through the roots when you dry your hair all the way.’ In demonstration, your nails burrow into the base of his thick hair, then you wriggle your fingers upwards towards the ends. ‘It will give you lots of volume and really show off this cut.’

Passing him the hairdryer, you watch him critically in the mirror. He imitates your movements, a bit clumsily and far too cautiously. Leaning down to his ear so he can hear you over the whir, you instruct him, ‘Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.’

He chokes and pins you with a wide-eyed stare in the mirror that glances right off your oblivious self. Along with your words, nothing about this exchange would register in your head in any other way until much, much later tonight, when you replay the conversation in your head in that limbo between sleep and wakefulness. 

It may or may not have you squealing into your pillow in latent embarrassment - and something else.

But for now, you’re happy with the way his hair has set, and you gesture for him to switch off the hairdryer. Turning his chair towards you and away from the mirror, you scan your eyes over him and make small adjustments - tucking a couple of strands behind his ear here, a couple of final snips there. 

As a final touch, you bury your fingers into his locks, dragging your fingertips through the roots to impart a final tousle so that the curls are loose and soft. You preen at the way he sways into your contact, all shyness gone, his hooded eyes half-closed - before he seems to catch himself and sits up with a self-conscious ahem.

Grabbing a small bottle from the shelf, you say, ‘Last thing - your beard is a bit dry as well. This oil will keep it nice and moisturised, just two or three drops after you wash up in the morning will do.’

Tipping his face up by the crook of your finger and opening up his neck to you, you smooth the ointment along both sides of his jaw, rubbing circles into his neatly trimmed whiskers and all the way up his sideburns. Sliding downwards, your hands seek out the closely shaved stubble tucked beneath his chin. Then, by sheer momentum, your palms continue down his throat in a slow, sticky descent, until the pads of your thumbs slot into the hollow between his collarbones, your fingers resting at the base of his neck where you feel his pulse rabbiting underneath. 

The air thickens and shifts between you. When he swallows, you feel the ripple of the moment against your fingertips. 

His eyes are on you, and suddenly he’s too close, his skin too hot under your hands. To your horror, something akin to shyness rears its head and you almost stumble backwards to put a safe distance between you.

Scrubbing the oily residue from your hands on a towel, you break the moment with a wink and a steadier smile than you actually feel. ‘You look good, Morales. Ready to take a look?’

‘As if you would take no for an answer,’ he mumbles under his breath. Fondness might be too strong of a word - but you don't think you're imagining the faint trace of amusement in his voice.

With a dramatic ta-da, you spin his chair around with a flourish.

Frankie Morales is obviously not a vain man - he most likely owns five pairs of jeans that he’s worn on rotation for the past fifteen years, his t-shirts are washed ragged, and his trusty leather boots have seen better days. He probably doesn’t use a mirror other than for purely utilitarian purposes, like checking if there’s something stuck in his teeth from his last meal.

But right now, by the way he’s holding his breath as he meets his own eyes in the reflection, you can tell that he’s really looking at himself for the first time in a long while. 

You pretend to busy yourself with tidying up the styling station as you discreetly sneak glances at him, feeling strangely bashful for intruding in this moment. When he remembers to breathe again, he tilts his head left then to the right, and back again, even swivelling his chair from side to side so he can peer round the back.

You’ve parted his waves to the side, the lighter cut allowing his curls to carry their natural shape. The healthy sheen, courtesy of the mousse, tempers his grays to a softer, burnt silver that catches the light fetchingly as he moves. Reaching up, Frankie pushes back a stray curl that falls over his eyes, and his back straightens in a quiet show of confidence.

Running a salon is hard work and often thankless. But on days like this? You know you’re meant to do this.

A dramatic gasp draws both of your attention. Ashton is clutching at his chest, backed up against the neighbouring styling station, gaping at Frankie. ‘Mister - you look good enough to devour. Look at that salt and pepper, I’m living for the grays. Doing the Lord’s work, Shiv!’

You laugh as Frankie flushes, scratching an invisible itch on his forehead. You brush the loose hairs off his shoulders with a towel and give him a nudge. ‘See? I’m not the only one who thinks you look good with the grays. You better stock up on the condoms, Morales, the ladies will be all over you at the party.’

He shakes his head self-deprecatingly as he stands up, rubbing his palms on his jeans, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. ‘I doubt it, but - thanks. I appreciate this, Shiv.’

He shrugs on his well-loved burnt yellow jacket, the one with the sleeves perpetually folded up above his wrists and grabs his cap. You hold out a paper bag with the free shampoo and conditioner you promised him, throwing in a jar of hair mousse for good measure. ‘You’re welcome, and you better not put your hat on again this afternoon after all that hard work.’

His fingers brush yours when he takes the bag from you, then, as if it’s the logical next thing to do, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your right cheek, his stubble coarse against your skin - and you know without looking it’s the gray patch in his beard that brushes against your jaw as he draws back. You fumble, feeling heat prickle the back of your neck and blooming in your rib cage. 

He flashes you the most self-assured smile you’ve seen on him this afternoon, which has you biting your bottom lip. ‘I won’t. Maybe see you at the wedding, Shiv.’

It takes you five full seconds to regain motor functions. By the time you unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, Frankie’s already out of the door with a spring in his step.

In companionable silence, you and Ashton watch the pilot strut - because that’s what he’s doing, he’s strutting with a confidence that becomes him - across the road through the glass front of the salon.

‘What a dish,’ Ashton sighs dreamily, flopping into a chair as if his limbs have given out. ‘I hope he comes back soon.’

You smile. A girl could always hope.

Notes: It's the first time I'm using a nickname for a Reader, but I have a real soft spot for Shiv, and I think she deserves one. I'm not sure where the fandom stands on this, does it disqualify the fic as a reader insert? If anyone has an issue with this, please let me know! For me, Shiv has no physical descriptions so to me she's still a reader insert.

I don't know if anyone expected this kind of dynamics between these two, but it's been so much fun to write with a bit of antagonism in the mix. I hope you enjoyed this, reblogs and comments are so, so appreciated as always. Thank you for reading ❤️

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier fanfic #frankie friday #queue

[qveerthe0ry]

Hello lovely!

I saw your reblog of @for-a-longlongtime‘s poll about queer Pedro boy fic and I was wondering if you have any fics that you particularly enjoy that you could recommend?

Hello friend!!

Sorry I took so long to answer this, but I wanted to have the time to be as thorough as possible because this is an AWESOME question! Thank you for asking me!!

I also want to preface this by saying I haven't had a TON of time to read as many fics as I want to, so if anyone wants to reblog this with more queer Pedro boy fics I would love that!

For now, here are the ones I've read and loved:

Into the Beat of the Night by @perotovar has the sweetest Frankie I've ever read and a badass non-binary OC named River. Their dynamic is so fun but so deeply caring and I CANNOT get enough of them. Their banter is always adorable, and there's a really good balance between fluff, smut, and light angst so far and I'm sooooo looking forward to the next chapter.

baby, i'm-a want you by @perotovar AGAIN they just won't quit with the incredible queer Pedro boy fics. Gay pornstar Javi P and Joel, shy Joel with a crush, all the PPCU boys do porn together, what more could you want???

Maverick by @for-a-longlongtime and its sequels. Of COURSE I can't make this post without gushing over this Tim Rockford x Marcus Pike x Frankie Morales series. Oh my god. It's so hot it will melt you, but also so sweet, and I look forward to updates like it's Christmas eve.

Sharing the Same Roots by @multifandomhoodies over on AO3. I'm not sure if they've cross-posted it here on Tumblr, but this was one of the first Pedro boy fics I ever read and I think about it a million times a day I think. t4t DinCobb set in WEST VIRGINIA!?! Mind was instantly blown, as I lived there for the first 21 years of my life. It paints such a serene, beautiful picture of a slow, happy, queer Appalachian existence that it makes me tear up. Super hot, super well-written, and Grogu is a fellow WVU Mountaineer which makes me chuckle. I wonder how many couches he's burned.

Catalyst by @ezrasbirdie Last but CERTAINLY not least, a fic that I re-read before bed time an embarrassing amount of times because it is SO!!! GOOD!!!! Frankie and Joel are my favorite Pedro boys, and the exploration of their relationship with each other and reader is so incredible. The way the emotions are written so naturally and so raw blows my mind every time I read. And AGAIN shy, flustered Joel??? My beloved. But also absolute menace Joel flustering Frankie??? STOP IT!!!

This list is shorter than I want it to be, so if anyone has suggestions totally use this ask as a way to rec or self-promo your queer Pedro boy fics <333

#pedro pascal characters #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #dincobb #din djarin #cobb vanth #joel miller #javier pena #marcus pike #tim rockford

[aliorsboxostuff]

MALE!READER WRITING REQUESTS (TEMP) CLOSED !

Come check out my works bellow!

I've seen how devastatingly little male!reader fics are in my big fandoms, and as a gay man i feel like i should provide us with said fics! Which is why I'm opening my ask box for any and all male!readers and gn!readers requests! (Including anon requests!)

RULES:

I WON'T ACCEPT FEMALE!READER FICS REQUESTS. I’m a trans-masc genderfluid, so male!Readers or gn!Readers are the ones that I usually write and am comfortable with. It’s hard looking for male!reader fics, especially in female-dominated fandoms, that's why I'm opening requests for any and all sad and touch-starved dudes out there! If these don't fit your preferences then you are free to leave, and if you're a female user/reader entering my blog, I hope you remain respectful about the fics I write or get requests for, thank you.

NOTE: I NEVER USE ANY FORM OF Y/N IN MY FICS. I find them kind of weird for me to write so my fics are mostly 1st Person POV. I write most of my fics based off on Fixations that may last a couple weeks, months, years. If you've requested something but havent seen the fic, that might be because i've lost interest!

What i will write:

male!reader

gender-neutral reader

Ftm! Reader

Smut 

Platonic or Romantic relationships

angst

fluff

comfort

headcanons

nsfw alphabets

drabbles

Series

Age gap (CHARACTERS MUST BE OVER THE AGE OF 19)

What I Won't write:

female!reader

underage characters (anyone under 17)

necrophilia

real people

pedophilia

Omorashi

age play

rape/non-con

incest

offensive/harmful things

THE CHARACTER LIST! Or, characters I will definitely write about if requested!

PEDRO PASCAL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Ezra (prospect)

Joel Miller

Javi Gutierrez

Javier Peña

Frankie Morales

Whiskey (Kingsman)

Tim Rockford (yes from the Ad)

TOP GUN 86’ & TOP GUN: MAVERICK

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

MARVEL & XMCU

Miguel O'hara (ATSV)

Hobie Brown (Platonic/fluff only)

Pavitr Prabhakar (Platonic/fluff only)

Kurt Wagner (xmcu)

Loki Laufeyson

Bucky Barnes

Moon Knight System

Deadpool

Daredevil

Eddie and Venom (They come as a pair)

BULLET TRAIN

Tangerine

Ladybug

Jujutsu Kaisen

Satoru Gojo

Nanami Kento

Higuruma Hiromi

Ryoumen Sukuna

Yuuji Itadori (Fluff)

Toge Inumaki (Fluff)

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

Connor (RK800)

Nines (RK900)

COD MODERN WARFARE II

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

John 'Soap' Mactavish

König

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Chris Knight (Real Genius)

Hannibal (NBC)

The Corinthian (Netflix Sandman)

Leon S. Kennedy (RE4 Remake)

Luis Serra (RE4 Remake)

Understand that these are all works of fiction; I am perfectly fine with writing for topics including mafias, mobs, murder, organized crime, war, mental illness, abuse, etc.; but please do not romanticize them in any way. Reading it is fine; please don't romanticize them in your head.

If any of this provided information may seem confusing or have any questions, feel free to drop a DM and I will explain further! I will try to post fic requests as regularly and as fast as I can!

For refrence, these are fics i've written and uploaded to my AO3!

Steven Grant/Male Reader fluff

XMEN Family Pride Fic

Steven Grant/Male Reader Smut #1

Steven Grant/Male Reader Smut #2

Deadpool/Male Reader Fluff Confession

Deadpool/Ftm Reader Smut

Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Male Reader Fluff

Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Male Reader sunshine x grumpy

Tangerine/Male Reader Fluff/Angst Mature

Tangerine/Male Reader Mature

Tangerine/Male Reader (Escort Fic) Mature

Tangerine/NB Reader Teen&Up

Tangerine/Gender-Fluid Reader (Coming out fic)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Husband Reader

Joel Miller/Ftm Reader & Ellie Fluff

Joel Miller & Kid Reader

Joel Miller/Ftm Reader & Tess Fluff a bit Angst

Miguel O'hara/Male Reader Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male Reader Spicy Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male&GN Reader Spicy Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male&GN Reader Fluff slight Angst

Din Djarin/Boyfriend Reader Smut

And the Short Fics/Drabbles on Tumblr!

Pulse (Tangerine/M!reader)

Deep Dive (Namor/M!reader)

Hold Tight (Tangerine/gn Reader)

Ner Mesh'la (Din Djarin/Male Reader)

Trinkets (Kurt Wagner/Gender-fluid Reader)

"Anythin' you wanna be." (Hobie Brown & Ftm Reader)

Little Nap! (Meows Morales Drabble)

Anyone that starts an argument about me writing exclusively for men and gender neutrals alike will get a very passive-aggressive and sarcastic reply to your request. There is an abundance of female!readers fics and writers who provide them; I am just here for people that takes a whole day searching for good male!reader fics. IF you do start an unnecessary rant about my fics or my writing preferences at a given moment; I’ve been in fandom spaces for the last 7 years of my life and run on pure manic adrenaline, I will throw hands. 

Without further ado, REBLOG TO TELL ALL DUDES! I OPEN MY FLOOD GATES! WELCOME ALL MALE!READER REQUESTS!

#male reader #x male reader #gender neutral reader #writing requests #for my dudes and no genders ! #robert bob floyd x male! eader #robert bob floyd x gn!reader #jake hangman x male reader #jake hangman x gn!reader #bradley rooster x male reader #kurt wagner x male reader #loki laufeyson x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #moon knight system x male reader #deadpool x male reader #symbrock x male reader #tangerine x male reader #ladybug x male reader #hannibal x male reader #ezra prospect x m!reader #joel miller x male reader #agent whiskey x male reader #javi gutierrez x male reader #leon s kennedy x male reader #luis serra x male reader #Gojo x male reader #Satoru x male reader #sukuna x male reader #higuruma x male reader #nanami x male reader

[katarinaeviswrld]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

𝓶𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓮 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 !!

ft. the strawhats

masterlist

a/n: going to see ayesha erotica tonight, omg what if she signs my right tiddy

what movies do the straw hats like?

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

18+ !! MINORS DNI

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

cw: my headcanons, if u don’t agree that’s fine just writing them cause it’s silly, grammar lowk rn cause im crazy

tags ✮⋆˙ crack fic, i just randomly thought of this and immediately had to write it on docs lmao, if it’s ooc i lowk don’t care

luffy

not say saying this to infantalize lil bro but i see him unironically into how to train ur dragon and mostly likely watched it over 100x. but tbh, i don’t blame him bc the movies are lowk gas so.

i also see him getting riled up over king kong vs godzilla or just any action movies like marvel. oh and he would definitely headcanon the crew as different marvel characters for funsies.

probably kins brad pitt

zoro

you cannot fucking tell me bro doesn’t watch kill bill or any bruce lee movie.

definitely got scolded by nami when she found him recreating a scene from charlie’s angels.

idk i don’t got a lot to say about him bc i feel like bro’s just interests are self-explanatory. he definitely is against the whole romance sappy shit.

nami

my girl loves some cute ass rom-coms, i can feel it. she definitely eats up 13-going-on-30 or 10 things i hate about you.

oh, she eats up telenovelas…who cares if it’s in another language, if it involves love, angst, and death, she don’t care. on the wings of love~

definitely cried watching marley and me, cannot tell me otherwise

usopp

this man is watching the rom coms with nami. he unironically loves romance movies. sure, he’ll watch a few action movies but come on…bro was prolly watching the new sydney sweeney movie his bestie (nami).

nami will invite him to the library while the whole crew is asleep for silly sleepovers. they’ll put on a random rom com while gossiping and giving eachother spa days.

him and nami were holding eachother while sobbing after watching the ending to marley and me for the 10th time.

sanji

watches any movie that discusses the beauty of culinary art.

he definitely enjoyed watching the menu and became fascinated with the horror elements that complimented a “sophisticated work of art.” oh and prolly watched the american girl movie with olivia rodrigo as grace (cause she’s like a baker in the movie lmao).

*sigh* ok so like he prolly LOVES titanic and imagine rose as nami. prolly tried sneaking into usopp and nami’s sleepover but got his ass beat cause he wasn’t chill enough to come ova.

robin

ik she into them campy movies or horror but mostly psycho horror. in terms of camp, definitely the devil wears prada. for horror, she’d prolly like hereditary(?) (lemme sit on it ill prolly change it later) or she’ll like them classics and im not talking about just 80s classic, no, she prolly watching dracula before it had fucking sound.

franky

fucking top gun maverick. bro is the definition of a gen x mom. or prolly crying to a studio ghibli movie or the notebook(?) OR he can be cunty by watching legally blonde bc elle woods is SUPPERRR tbh i think bro’s taste would lowk be diverse.

chopper

mid joining usopp and nami’s sleep over and crying with them to marley and me. or he prolly watching zootopia and would be so amazed bc it’s an allegory for segregation

jinbe

watching that one lowk boring movie about stocks with christian bale. lowk fucks with that one princess diana movie with kristen stewart. yk what, fuck it, he prolly fucks with the godfather.

brook

some stupid ass movie from the 50s?? full on black and white shit. wait, ok, i did a film class and all i can remember was like vertigo which was lowk good and whats up doc.

#one piece #am i cooking #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #usopp #god usopp #nami #vinsmoke sanji #franky #jinbe #nico robin #tony tony chopper #soul king brook #fanfic #crack fic