#mav writes

[maverick-prime]

EEEEEEEK i just posted my first published fanfic over on ao3!!! if you are a fan of found family, domestic fluff, human/robot romance, and healing trauma through healthy interpersonal relationships, then this fic is for YOU! preview under the cut!

He remembered the first time Tessa had stepped foot inside the farmhouse. He’d been so nervous that she would hate it, that she would resent having almost no surviving memory of her mother in the house because of the explosion. Instead, she’d seemed thrilled that Cade was finally moving on, which had been a hell of a surprise.

“You really aren’t mad?” he’d asked her.

Tessa smiled at him, that sunny grin that had always reminded him so much of Emily, and touched his arm. “No, Dad. I’m not mad. Sure, I miss Mom sometimes, but I was so little when she passed that I don’t really remember her that well.” She shrugged, the shape of her smile softening. “I’ve met so many people that care about me. I’ve done things no one else has done. And I graduated high school, just like you both wanted! She wasn’t here for any of it, but I know she’d be proud of me. I know she’d be proud of you, too. I think she just wanted you to be happy, and it seems like you’re finally getting there.”

Cade, swallowing around the lump in his throat, had felt tears burning his eyes. “I don’t want to forget about her.”

“You don’t have to,” Tessa said. Her hand squeezed his arm a little. “But it is okay to move on. After everything we’ve been through, we deserve to be happy. You don’t need ghosts haunting you, not when you’ve got giant alien robots to look after.”

“When the hell’d you get so wise?” He’d pulled her into a tight hug, his face tucked against her shoulder. If there had been tears dampening the fabric of her shirt, neither of them said anything about it.

[callmemaeverick]

Teaser...

I know the other day I said I was gonna write a human!Reader fic, and I am. I am writing it. But I am going to need more time before I feel it’s good enough for consumption.  So, I thought I’d post a teaser, an excerpt that I felt is so good when writing it, I wanted to share with you guys. 

And here it is:

When you first met Jake, he was running from the medical staff. It was his first official day as an Avatar driver and he so excited that he just upped and ran. He shot by you in the gardens like a bullet, cackling like a hyena as Norm struggled to catch up to him. It was not until later that you would find out that he has no prior experience in driving Avatars whatsoever. 

"Read the manual," He deadpanned to your shocked face when you asked about his training. 

"You really shouldn't have done that," You warned like the rule follower you were. "You could have seriously harmed yourself,"

"But I didn't," He shot back, like the rogue he was. 

And he was. A rogue. 

In some cases, he still is. He's the nail that sticks out. A marine amongst scientists, a paraplegic amongst soldiers. Even later, down the road of his life, an avatar amongst Na'vi. 

Jake never truly belonged. Not until he Sees you. 

I hope you guys like it. And I hope you’ll like the fic too. 

Until then

- Mav

[justagingerwithredhair]

“I’m going to give you a bit of advice, Ryunosuke.”

Ryu looked up, slightly taken aback at Mister Sholmes’s use of his first name. “Y-yeah-?”

“People don’t care about right or wrong in court. They only care about what benefits them.”

Though Sholmes’s words were heavy, the characteristic gleam in his eyes remained. “...Why are you telling me this...?” Ryu asked, voice quiet.

Sholmes placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “To warn you. There will be times where you’ll feel like your defendant is wrong, but you have to keep fighting for them. No matter what, you have to keep fighting. Understand?”

Ryu looked at Sholmes, and nodded. “Of course I do. I won’t give up. ...Not yet. I’ve come too far.”

“Good. That was exactly what I was hoping to hear.”

Herlock smiled, and it was infectious- Ryu found himself smiling too.

All was well for now.

OF COURSE SHOLMES HAS AN INFECTIOUS SMILE AHHHHHHHHHH

thank you so much mav. I love it :]

[da-millerrrrr]

Alucard held Cyril against the wall, blue magic haze surrounding the pink-haired boy. "C'mon, Alucard… I thought you liked things to be fair? This doesn't seem very fair, now, does it? Put me down and we'll fight for real." Cyril grinned, and the magic boy hesitated. Fight or Feelings? An impossible decision. Alucard let Cyril down, and the other laughed breathily, but was cut off by a punch to the nose. Cyril stumbled backwards, clutching his now-bleeding nose… and started to laugh. He pulled his hand away, a manic grin on his face. "I knew you had some fight in you! C'mon, Al, hit me again! Show me what you can do without your magic, without the shadow of your dad looming over your shoulder!" That was the wrong thing to say. Something in Alucard snapped, and he braced his feet. "Never. Mention. My. FATHER!" He screamed, flinging his hand out and sending Cyril flying into a locker. The pink haired boy stayed there for a solid minute before starting to laugh, scaring Alucard. Did he accidentally give Cyril brain damage? "Oh my god, Cyril! Are you okay?! I'm so sorry, I-" Cyril stood up shakily, and wiped his nose. "Are you kidding? I'm perfectly fine." He was really close… Alucard could see every freckle on his face, count the threads in his eyepatch. "I mean, I didn't know I could get you so riled up." "Huh?!" Alucard stepped back, face flushed. Cyril laughed, also backing up. "C'mon, Dracula. We need to go before a teacher gives us detention for skipping class."

[bo0tleg]

One thing I like about Top Gun (1986) is how believable the development with Ice and Mav's dynamic is.

I've seen a lot of the "Rivals suddenly become buddies after traumatic event together" in media, but I don't think I've seen it done better than in Top Gun. Mostly, I attribute it to how much build up it has.

Most of the time, the 'Rivals' hate each others guts throughout the entire movie/series and then they go through an extremely traumatic event that binds them for life and shifts their entire concept of each other. Ice and Mav never once changed how they saw each other, it just changed their understanding of it.

Ice saw Maverick as dangerous and Mav saw Iceman as stuck-up and commanding. And they weren't wrong, by any means.

From the beginning, they have tension between them because of how different they are. And it ends up in the audience seeing Ice as the 'Antagonist' because that's how Mav sees it, and we're seeing it from his perspective as the protagonist. But Ice was never inherently wrong, in fact he was right.

Other than his first scene, Iceman always has a point in what he's saying. He's criticizing Mav, not insulting him. Sure, he does it in a brash way because masculinity, but he's not trying to insult him, he's trying to knock him down a peg and wake him up to reality. All Ice wants is that he starts to act as a team player, start caring about everybody's safety AND his own, rather than being reckless for the sake of being reckless. But Mav sees it as an insult because he can't process criticism in a healthy way (due to how he grew up). The same thing happened with Charlie, for the record.

And so the strife between the two begins. What I like about it is how it bleeds out of them over time, becoming more settled as the movie goes on. In the locker room "You're dangerous" scene, the tension is palpable. It's obvious they're agitated by each other, and feel the need to prove they're the correct one.

If you pay attention, this whole... demand for superiority goes away as time progresses. They're fine with each other's presence, it's not like they're constantly at each others throat all the time. In the shower scene, Ice dropped all of the aggression and competitiveness from his tone and is instead just laying out what he thinks. He's not undermining Maverick, he's not lecturing him like a child. Iceman is just telling Maverick exactly how he sees the situation in hopes that it would make him realize what the fuck he's doing, but with little hope that it'll actually work.

That doesn't mean Ice is always correct either, he doesn't understand why Mav acts the way he does, thus fails to take into consideration the emotional trauma behind it. Which only causes even more strife.

The entire time, Iceman isn't being a dick for the sake of it, he just wants Mav to stop being stupid (by his standards). And Maverick doesn't understand it because all he gets from what Ice says is insults.

Maverick isn't good at understanding what people mean to say if it's implied, you need to say it to his face. This is the reason he stayed quiet in the shower scene, because Ice finally laid everything out in simple words that he can understand without making it sound like a dick-measuring contest.

Thing is, the tension mellows out. At the beginning, you could see the tension and cut it with a knife. By the middle you can see them getting used to each other without jumping to constantly trade jabs (namely: the volleyball scene, it's just a bunch of guys being dudes, and the scene where Charlie says that Mav flew recklessly in front of the whole class, Ice doesn't comment on it in any way). Over time, they've settled down into their tension without needing to address it all the time.

Then Goose dies.

And the tension between them is still there.

Just because Goose isn't there anymore, doesn't mean their whole dynamic vanishes all of a sudden. You can see their hesitation towards each other (especially Ice), and that's great! It demonstrates that Goose dying doesn't magically resolve their problems with each other in solidarity.

Ice tried to give his consolations to Mav, and is awfully awkward about it. You can see on his face that he wants to say more, but doesn't because he knows it's not his place given their history. And not much is said, but a lot it communicated. (Val Kilmer is a killer actor for this, OH MY FUCKING GOD BLESS THAT MAN)

Even in the graduation scene you can see how out of their depts they really are with each other. A stilted congratulations, that was it. But they're trying, and that's what matters.

A scene I think gets overlooked a lot is the scene right before the Layton, where Ice expressed his worries about Mav to Stinger, and Mav heard him. Because I feel like that was a shift that was more drastic than the Layton itself for them.

What Ice was doing in that scene wasn't doubting Maverick's flying abilities, it was his mental health. Sure, he passed the psych eval, but that means next to jack shit when in a real combat situation so close after his backseater dying. And Ice might be worried that he's gonna be left hanging, but with the way he was speaking I'm more inclined to believe he was more worried about Maverick's wellbeing than himself. Ice almost looked resigned. He knew it was gonna get dismissed because that's the military for you, but he still wanted to try to vouch for Mav to stay groundside, if only to keep his mind at bay.

But Maverick heard him, and as usual, he read it as an insult. He wasn't wrong to assume Ice didn't believe him capable of flying the mission, which wouldn't be a lie, but failed to realize that he had more than one reason to want Maverick on the ground rather than in the air. And for the first time, Maverick believes him.

Up until this point, Mav dismissed all of Ice's so called 'insults' because he was certain in and of himself. But now he isn't anymore.

And it affects his performance in the air. I'm not saying he was as shitty as he was at the start of that combat because of what he overheard, but I am saying that it certainly didn't help matters in the slightest.

So their weird 'stepping-on-eggshells' situation is all over the place by that point. Because they started to care about each other despite not being what one would call proper friends yet. It's establishing a potential friendship by implying that 1. Ice cares about Mav's wellbeing and 2. Mav cares about what Ice thinks.

On the ground, they have the wingman exchange, and their suddenly buddy buddy. Thing is, it wasn't sudden at all.

They've been setting this up the entire fucking movie.

Going back to what I said at the beginning: Ice thinks Mav is dangerous and Mav thinks Ice is stuck-up and controlling. After the Layton, they still think those things because they weren't wrong to begin with. What changed was that instead of seeing it as something that pitted them against each other, it was seen as something that simply was about the other, and that there was no changing it. It could be good.

Mav being dangerous could be good and Ice being stuck-up and controlling could be good, because those were just traits of who they were. By the end of the movie they didn't change how they saw each other, just how they interpreted each other.

And it was built up during the entire fucking movie.

There was a reason to why they acted the way they did with each other because of the stilted interpretation they had of each other. From rivalry to friendship (and perhaps more later down the line), it's glaringly obvious throughout that it wasn't a sudden shift, it was exponential.

That's why I think it was so well developed, because you could see it coming.

[erwinsvow]

bitchy!reader being jealous at a party when she sees rafe talking to some girl and then finding out its a girl he has either slept with in the past or shes been all over him since before they were toghether. Reader makes a scene calling her out for being all over her man

yess but bitchy reader is a menace, she doesnt care abt any girls but she'll be soo mean to rafe abt it😭😭 this has to be pre-dating bc she would never let rafe disrespect her like that & he knows not to

when you catch rafe's eyes again, you feel a familiar sense of self-satisfaction course through your veins. of course he's looking—he should be surprised he can even look away.

you always look great, but today is something special, a pretty strapless dress decorating your body, something similar to the color of rafe's eyes. so, like always, it's no wonder he can't look away.

but you can't let the bastard think he's got you thinking about how often he is looking at you. it's all very confusing, so you don't glance back, trying to stay engrossed in your conversation with your friends. a few drinks and thirty minutes later, your eyes travel back to rafe.

and though he is still looking at you, there's some other girl in front of him, talking to him. the girl you recognize, someone who used to frequent tannyhill. on more than one occasion she's wandered down the kitchen when you and sarah are making waffles and sipping overpriced coffee. when you'd seen her, she'd been in rafe's clothes.

you hadn't cared much then, treated her the same you'd treat anyone. even now, with the girl in front of him trying to capture his attention and the idiot's eyes still on you, you feel the same—mildly annoyed at her, beyond irritated at him.

he thinks he can make you jealous. it's even cute that he's trying. this time you do stare back at rafe, a little annoyed at yourself for thinking about how cute he looks today. you like him in blue, you like that he's matching you.

"why are you staring at my brother?" sarah questions, and you smile in his direction.

"get your shit straight, sarah. he's staring at me." you wave at rafe, smiling sweetly before looking away. you don't have to see his face to know how it fell at your reaction.

"ugh. now he's coming over here. i'm not sticking around for this." you direct your smile at sarah.

"who asked you to stay?" she rolls her eyes at you.

"match made in heaven," she mutters, walking away in the other direction. when rafe approaches you, you stay seated on the couch, sipping your drink and observing your nails. they're baby blue—and you wonder how you'd come to that decision in the salon yesterday. of course, you know the answer.

"what the hell was that?" rafe barks, and you resist the eyeroll for as long as you can. last time he said if you rolled them at him again, he'd slap them out of your head, and though you want to test his theory, you'd prefer it in the privacy of his bedroom.

"just saying hi, rafe. you know i've met that poor girl before, at tannyhill. i'm surprised you even let her sleep over, you seem like the type-"

"can you shut up about her? what the hell was-"

"you already said that. and why would i shut up? you're the one yapping away to her. you know, you must be great in bed."

"excuse me?"

"i mean, you treat a girl that shitty and she's still willing to speak to you? she must remember something good. but knowing you it can't be for the conversation."

"..thanks?"

"you're welcome." you glance up at him again, but your eyes track back to the girl watching the two of you, the one he left behind to come talk to you. "i know you're a dick but don't be a dick. go finish talking to her. it's rude."

"i don't wanna talk to her."

"well, you're not talking to me."

"d'you have to make everything so fuckin' hard?"

"you're the one trying to make me jealous by talking to some poor girl! did you think i'd appreciate that?"

"why can't you just get jealous like you're supposed to?"

"you are such a jackass. maybe if you acted, like, a normal person-"

"oh, you're one to fuckin' talk. normal person my ass. you cuss me out every chance you get-"

"stop engaging in behavior that gets you cussed out then."

"shut up."

"you shut up!"

you both stare at each other for a moment.

"you wanna come to tannyhill with me?"

"yeah. let's go."

[frozen-seagrass]

Thinking about Mav being unsure of what Ice's eye color is

Of course he's not going to do the normal thing and ask the man, so he settles for finding ways to get up close and personal to try and see for himself without being obvious (-> he fails)

But every time he gets a close enough look they're different. One day they look blue but the next they look hazel. One moment they look brown but then he turns his head and a different light catches on them and they look almost green

It turns into one big game of "How close will he let me get? How much will he let me see?" And it's not until he's gotten to the point of being a breath away from Ice's face- close enough to brush lips- and standing under the bright white LEDs that he realizes that they're gray

[the-ace-with-spades]

(another unfinished post i found on the way to glasgow - that was the longest train ride in my life - I'm sorry in advance)

When Ice finally passes away, at the age of 73, in his sleep, Bradley moves Mav into their house the same day.

He gets the call in the morning, while trying to simultaneously cook Jake's breakfast and try to make their daughter put on a rain jacket. It's not Mav, but someone from the hospital. Jake doesn't know this — Bradley's face twitches only for a second and then he's back to the nagging, relaxing tone and telling their daughter it's raining and it won't stop. Jake only finds out when he comes back home from the school drop-off and Mav is already there on their couch. Jake doesn't even get the full explanation until that night, just a quick, "Ice passed away overnight."

There's only their three youngest living with them at the time — their 18-year-old daughter who attends UC San Diego, and their 15-year-old son who is still in high school, and their 7-year-old daughter — so Mav takes one of the vacant bedrooms.

The first few nights, Bradley sleeps in the same bed with him. Neither of them looks like they get much sleep. They don't really eat, either, just drink coffee and nibble on the crackers.

The kids start coming back home, and their oldest helps Jake arrange most of the things for the funeral, at least for the first few days. Mav is... numb, not really there, and Jake understands — he would, too, if he woke up one day and his husband died in his sleep next to him. Bradley is silent, mostly, the way he usually rambles to fill out the silence, the way he hums, the way he sings at any given time when there are no words spoken, it's all gone and Jake doesn't know how to fill out the silence either, how to ask, how to make it better without asking.

Bradley doesn't cry, or at least not the way he knows Mav does — he can see Mav's red eyes every morning — but there's something empty in his gaze, in the way his eyes follow Mav and in the way he melts whenever Mav is around, always close, always brushing against him. Mav spaces out a lot, doesn't talk much, doesn't—well, doesn't do much. Every time he tries to help with something, paperwork, the funeral arrangements, the hospital bills, even just sorting out the kids' school leave or Jake's own work leave, he fumbles a bit, not really able to focus on anything for long, and it's like his mind is completely scrambled. Jake doesn't know how to help him — doesn't know if they even can.

The kids, well, did not take it well, as expected. The oldest two try to be brave and help Jake with everything, keep the house going, but their youngest daughter doesn't really understand why her pops isn't back, the middle kids don't understand why now — Ice was in remission, in good health, would go hiking with them once a month, play with them in the backyard, talking about plans for the future with them, nothing that would tell them to expect their pops passing away. Mav and Ice had taken care of all of them for years, while Jake and Bradley were still deployable, and helping out as much as they could. Ice was a huge part of their lives, since the very beginning.

Bradley is certainly not doing any better but one couldn't be able to tell if they didn't know him well enough. He's always been more for packing his feelings into a tight neat box, compartmentalizing until there is too much and it all overflows in some explosive way. His focus is mostly on Mav and the kids, trusting Jake to take care of anything he can't.

Jake can't even ask him how he's doing until the night before the funeral.

Mav tells Bradley he wants to be alone that night and Bradley lands in their bedroom.

He acts normal — checks the kids are in bed, checks on Mav, prepares stuff for breakfast in the morning, has a shower. Only when he sits down in their bed, their dress blues, cleaned and pressed sitting on the hangers hooked up on their wardrobe, right in front of him—only then he freezes, a blank stare still on the uniforms.

Jake sits down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me, Bradley."

"I knew it was going to happen at some point, I just," "I just thought we would have a few more years."

Bradley sleeps curled up on his chest — he sleeps the whole night, soundlessly, and Jake is almost settled.

Almost. Mav is a couple doors down, alone.

Ice's been—had been retired many years now, but he had been high enough in the ranks that the Navy still insists on making a military funeral. Jake tried to take away as much of the flashy bullshit as possible, but there are still things leftover — the sailors with the flag, the flyover. But there's no one who wasn't close with the family at the ceremony, there's no speeches, and no one tries to hand either Mav or Bradley a flag.

The wake has an even smaller amount of people, all packed in their house — Mav hasn't been at his own house since — and thanks to Slider, mostly, and his 'the bastard wouldn't want us to mope around', it's less sad and quiet.

Mav eats two slices of cake, which is the most Jake's seen him eat since, and even laughs at some stories about Ice people are exchanging.

Ice had a good life. A big family. A big happy family that loved him.

But life goes on without him. Jake goes back to work first, then the kids have to go back to school, then Bradley has to back to work. After a couple of days alone at their house, Mav starts bringing up moving back to his own house.

He's not really doing great. He's still quiet, still spaces out more often than not, still forgets himself sometimes, still freezes whenever he tries to say something and the we he uses is one person short. He's—lifeless, for a lack of better word, and seems like he's noticing it now that Bradley isn't with him most of the waking hours.

"That is our home," Mav tells them. "I can't abandon it forever, I'd be abandoning him, too, if I—"

Jake—Jake gets it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.

Bradley's been fielding off any suggestions of Mav moving out but he's pretty sure that soon Mav is going to pack his stuff and up and leave without asking for permission.

"If he wants to move back home, we can't exactly hold him here. against his will."

"Jake," Bradley says. "I feel like—if we let Mav go back there alone, he's going to die of a broken heart and I won't have either of them anymore."

"Sweetheart—"

"I know it's selfish," he interrupts, "but I can't lose him, too. Not now."

Jake can't make Mav stay with them — so he finds the best solution he can and instead, they all move in with Mav. Hell with it, he's going to try to get everyone to live their lives to the end. They'd done it before, Mav, Ice, Bradley, Jake and their two kids under one roof, when their oldest two were their only two kids.

The two of them and two of their youngest; two of their kids move into their house so they don't have to sell it.

Mav lives on. They try to occupy his mind by throwing their youngest at him — ask him to take her to school, pick her up from school, take her to her gymnastics class, do her homework with her, teach her how to play piano. The other kids pick up on it, too, and their high schoolers would wrap Mav into doing math workbooks with them, or ask him to drive them to their friends' house, and the kids that have moved out ask Mav to go to lunch together or call him to ask him things about car and house repairs that don't exist.

Mav gets brighter every day. Never as bright as before, but no longer so numb.

Their daughter ends up never moving out and so do they.

They all get older but Mav holds up pretty well. He does break his hip when trying to wash the windows, had a limp and terrible back ache ever since, had to stop driving because he can't see shit, had to stop piloting even sooner, and his memory is also shit, but Jake is pretty sure his cholesterol is lower than his own and he has better blood pressure than Bradley. Bradley and Mav are the ones cooking after all, Jake is the one eating all the tasty but not healthiest food, and Mav's life revolves around spoiling his cute great-grandkids and Bradley's is filled with the constant stress of managing Navy's top flying school.

For his ninetieth birthday, Mav flies a fighter jet as a passenger, the oldest person to ever do that — his youngest granddaughter is the one to take him up in the air, a junior grade lieutenant herself. They have a birthday party held at their house, Mav falls asleep in the armchair, Bradley makes fun of him and promptly falls asleep on the couch, too. Jake loves them both so much and still kind of can't believe he has this — house full of grown-up kids and grandkids of his own, his graying husband of over thirty years, his father-in-law coming to an age he wanted to see his mother at.

They're cleaning up, their two daughters who still don't have kids and didn't need to go home helping, and Mav tells them he's going to get some fresh air on their veranda. "I've got a terrible headache," is all he says.

Half an hour passes, they've packed all the clean and dirty dishes, and Bradley huffs to himself. "He fell asleep on the bench again, didn't he," and goes outside.

Bradley shouts for him in less than a minute. The ambulance is there in eight. Within the half-hour and a CT scan in the hospital, the neurologist tells them Mav is too far gone to survive the day. Within six hours, every single person from their family has come to say goodbye. When they pass the seven hours mark, Jake stands up from the plastic chair behind Bradley — he's not about to tell Bradley he should rest, but he's been holding Mav's hand since the minute they admitted Mav to the ward and hasn't eaten or drunk anything all day. He tells him he'll go grab them a coffee and bagels and gets a little nod and a smile.

Jake comes back twenty minutes later and Bradley doesn't even look up from where he's gripping Mav's hand.

"Can you get the nurse for me?"

[crossthread]

No jokes here. The Navy’s best pilot and the Navy’s best admiral. Between them, eight air-to-air combat kills and five stars. These were men who commanded respect with or without your approval. This was the picture of ruthless competence.

Debriefing (& Other Stories) • part 2 of Easier Done Than Said by @compacflt

[sunlightmurdock]

mav finding out about his daughter and bradley's affair in the worst way possible

hehehehe so I’m imagining it’s a night that she and Mav had a really big, really public argument. She was at the Hard Deck being fake flirty — fake it til you make it type confidence that Bradley can see straight through, but Mav can’t. Mav just thinks it’s dangerous.

And where does she go after Maverick embarrasses her in front of everyone?? Bradley’s place.

It’s a night that he had stayed in, and she’s supposed to still be out, so he’s confused when the pounding on his front door is revealed to be her.

“He’s insane! He’s actually fucking insane! I was just playing pool and he came over yelling about being careful and respecting myself and..” Bradley just watches as she ducks under his arm, letting herself into his house and starting to pace furiously around his living room. She’s wearing a fitted dress, it’s cute, but short.

He doesn’t need to ask who has upset her, he already knows. Rooster just swings the door shut behind him and lets her rant.

“He didn’t ever care about being a parent when I was a kid, who does he think he is? — Acting like he gets to tell me what to do now.” She growls angrily.

Just wearing a pair of sweat shorts, Bradley sits on the arm of his couch and waits for you to be done. It takes a while, but he doesn’t mind listening.

The story finishes abruptly, mainly because she has been staring at his bare chest and shoulders for long enough that her anger has faded and been replaced with something else entirely.

It’s one of the reasons she loves Bradley. His ability to get her mind off of things. And how good he is in bed.

He makes her cum on his tongue, his fingers and then his cock. First on the couch, then against the wall in his hallway, finally in his bed. It’s wild. She knows that she’ll be left with bruises on her thighs in the morning and it just spurs her on.

She begs him for more as he fucks her hard, facedown onto his mattress, and he just complies. And then, when she’s a whimpering, trembling mess afterwards, he brings her a damp cloth and tells her to hang tight while he gets her some water.

Bradley passes by the front window as the pounding at the door starts. He makes brief eye contact with Maverick and knows he can’t pretend to already be in bed. He opens the door gingerly.

“She didn’t come home tonight!” Maverick pushes past Bradley without warning, starting to pace furiously around the living room. Bradley pales. “We had a big fight, and maybe I was out of line — I know she’s not stupid enough to fool around with any of those guys, but— fuck, she hasn’t come home and I’m out of my mind. Should we call the cops?”

Bradley tears his attention away from your dress poking out from between his couch cushions. Your heels discarded on the floor. Your panties by the hallway door.

“Cops? — No.” Bradley decides quickly. “She’s… probably just cooling off at a friend’s house.”

“But what if—“ Maverick stops talking as he catches sight of the heels on the floor. He looks up and examines Bradley’s dishevelled hair and love-bitten neck. “Oh. Oh, you have company. I’m sorry, I’m just so worried. Could I call her from your phone? — She won’t answer if she knows it’s me.”

Bradley swallows, then shakes his head. “Just give her some time to cool off, Mav. She’ll be fine.”

“How could you possibly promise that —“ Maverick catches sight of the dress and stops berating the Lieutenant for just a moment. He squints, trying to piece together the familiarity. He looks between the shoes and the dress.

Cut to Maverick absolutely tearing Bradley’s place apart looking for her, finding her hiding in his closes in one of his shirts and all hell breaking loose.

[rainbowsuitcase]

*extremely tired writer voice* this was supposed to be a short gen fic but now they're horny

[maverick-prime]

howdy stranger

hi there, i'm maverick/mav!! welcome to my little corner of tumblr!

i'm an aspiring author who writes a lot of fiction and loves taking inspo from my fav literature and fandoms. i've written poetry, short stories, and i've been working on a novel for about a year now. i also write the occasional fic, and you can find me on ao3 @ fiducia_dolcezza! under #mav writes and #mav fanfic, you can find previews of my work. sometimes i make art, both of original stuff and fandom stuff, and i might post that here too :3c

a little bit more about me: i'm pan, gray ace, and genderfluid, so any pronouns (they/she/he specifically) are fine with me, but i usually prefer to go by they/them. i'm in my 20's in college, so i get pretty busy in the fall and spring, but i'll do my best to upload semi-regularly here. i'm more than happy to make friends, and i love having mutuals to hang with!

my tagging system should be fairly simple to navigate, and at a later point in the future i'll come back to this post and provide a master list of the tags i use most often, so please let me know if something should be tagged a certain way!

love you all and can't wait to share my passions with you 💙

[katewritesss]

Imagine Maverick attempting to teach Bradley how to dance the Laendler from The Sound of Music and Ice sees, surprising pretty much everyone with how smoothly he can dance.

And Maverick and Ice have been dancing around each other for months now, not wanting to admit that their feelings, this dance just shows how they can't hide their feelings any more...

So, at *that* moment when the dance gets more intimate and their faces are mere inches apart, so much so that if they just leaned a little bit forward...

But Maverick steps back with Ice still staring at him with that piercing gaze of his, and he tries a lame excuse, "I don't remember anymore."

Bradley comes out of nowhere, noticing in the typical little-kid fashion, "Your face is all red."

"Is it?" Mav asks, his hands going to his cheeks that suddenly feel hot and flushed. But still, he doesn't look away from Ice. "I don't think I'm used to dancing."

And Ice just smiles that little half-smirk of his, those blue eyes still so piercing.

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 14 - Virginity

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: virginity loss (mav), oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex

word count: 1637

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

You didn’t believe him at first. He had to have been messing with you. 

There’s just no way somebody like him was still untouched, inexperienced. Certainly not with the way he presented himself, his outward demeanor, his very big ego. All the pilots in Miramar were the same, so you thought. Some were very easy to take home. It was a regular occurrence, watching them leave the bar one by one, somebody on their arm every time. You could have sworn Maverick was one of them. 

But apparently not.

You didn’t pry, didn’t ask why. You’re sure he had his reasons. Besides, he’d made it clear that he wanted you, and that was fair enough.

It was late, and you’d dragged him to your place, expecting nothing but a make-out session. He was a very good kisser, that you knew—frankly another reason why you couldn’t believe he’d never had sex before. Maverick’s hands had a different idea tonight, dipping against the curves of your body. Wanting to feel everything. It was when he elicited a moan out of you, right against his mouth, that you pulled back. 

“What are you doing?” you’d asked, brow cocked playfully.

Panting from his own heavy kisses, he looked at you. Blinked slowly. “I wanna fuck you.”

Your stomach flipped at his words. “That so?”

A nod.

That’s how you both ended up here: Mav laying back against your mattress, shirt off and chest covered in wet kisses and small little bite marks. Whining softly the lower you traveled. 

“Shh, just relax,” you whisper, running a hand up and down his thigh. 

Maverick sniffles, lets his head fall back against the pillow as your needy hands reach for the button on his Levi’s. He’s already hard in his pants, his body tingling in anticipation. “Okay, okay,” he breathes.

You’re gentle as you unbutton his jeans, taking your time to excite him further. He lifts his hips slightly as you start peeling the material down his thighs, his head bowing again to watch you strip him. You get his jeans off fairly easily, folding them in a messy square and tossing them aside. You kiss up his thighs, feeling him tense underneath your lips as they get closer to his hard on. 

He gasps when you press an open-mouthed kiss over his clothed cock, hips jerking. You laugh lightly, “Baby, I’ve barely touched you,” you coo. 

He whines. “Don’t—oh, don’t make fun of me.” 

You mouth at the thin material of his underwear, his cock twitching underneath. He squirms, wanting more, both hands reaching into your hair. He doesn’t pull, simply rubs his thumbs over your scalp, gentle.

Your fingers curl around the waistband, but you look up at him just to be sure. “You sure about this, Mav?”

“Don’t ask. I’m all yours,” he pants, fingers twirling strands of your hair.

You smile, amused. It stirs something in you, the desire to unfold him. It turns you on intensely knowing you get to make him feel good. That he’s leaving it all up to you.

Pulling his underwear down, his cock jumps free, lands taut against his stomach, hard and leaking. Just the sight of him sends a jolt through you, arousal taking over your body. Your mouth salivates as you lean in, but you don’t want to overwhelm him, remembering to take it slow. You press a soft kiss to the side instead, Mav’s hips continuing to squirm. 

“You want a blowjob?” you ask softly, batting your lashes up at him, your mouth hovering over his length.

Maverick’s lips tighten together, holding back a moan just at your words alone. He nods, head moving quickly.

“Use your words, Mav,” you whisper, leaning in to press another kiss to his heated shaft, tongue slightly dipping against the vein.

He gasps again, removes his hands from your head to curl his fingers around the sheets instead. “Y–yeah, yes.”

You know not to do too much; he did say he wanted to fuck you, after all. Maybe just a few strokes of your mouth and then you’ll give him what he really wants. 

You’re still gentle when you take him into your mouth. Mav’s entire body goes frigid, a strangled moan leaving his lips. One fist remains bunched in the sheets and the other goes up to his mouth, teeth biting down on his finger to hold himself together, relishing in the new form of pleasure budding inside of him. 

You let all your spit gather as your mouth sinks around him, allowing it to leak out all over his cock. It slides all the way down, slicking him up. Maverick’s moans are muffled by his fist, but his cheeks turn an unbelievable pink as the pleasure flows in his abdomen. After a few up and down strokes of your mouth, you let go of his dick with a pop, instead running the flat of your tongue from the tip down the underside. You notice his squirming, how tight his face is pulled together as he tries to hold off his imminent orgasm. So soon already, poor thing. 

You almost want to pull back, but you allow him your tongue just a bit longer as you reach down to unbutton your own pants. Tongue swirling lightly around his shaft, you manage to yank your jeans down the best you can, slipping them off along with your underwear. You feel your arousal pooling down below, and that’s when you finally remove your mouth, spit dripping down your chin. Mav watches as you climb up the bed to straddle him, wiping at your lower face. You slip out of your shirt, throwing all your garments to the floor. 

You remove his fist from his mouth, leaning in to capture it in yours for an eager kiss instead. You take his throbbing cock into your hand as you kiss him, wet and slick from your blowjob, and scoot forward to mount him. At first, you just rub yourself against him, slicking up your folds. 

You get another gasp out of him—right against your mouth—when you test his tip against your slit, feeling to see if you’re ready enough for the stretch. When you pull away from the kiss, Maverick looks broken, his body flushed. He needs more. It’s enough to have you actually pushing the tip inside, watching his lashes flutter in a dreamlike daze.

“Oh—oh, God,” he breathes, fist coming up to cover his mouth again, but you grab his forearm before he can quiet himself. You want to hear every noise he makes.

It takes you just a second to adjust to the slight stretch, though his heated face and his little whines edge you on. You slide down inch by inch until you’re fully situated on the hilt, watching as more and more desperation paints his face.

His lips look cracked from biting at them, so you lean down again to continue kissing him, using your tongue against the plush of his lower lip. His cock fully inside you, you allow him a breather, hips momentarily still. 

“‘m not gonna last,” he rasps against your mouth, hips shallowly thrusting up. “Gonna cum.”

You kiss at the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw and underneath it. “Just a minute, Mav. You can do it.”

“Mmm—I don’t—fuck—” He shivers underneath you as you begin to roll your hips. “Oh, fuck.”

You roll your hips as you continue kissing down his throat, tongue finding his collarbone, teeth nipping at the skin underneath. It’s when you pull back and sit up straight that you actually begin sliding up and down on his cock. Slow at first, but there’s a fiery urge inside you, too, and you need it just as much as he does. Your pace quickens without warning, hands against his chest for leverage. You look down at him; you focus on his face, on how intoxicated he looks. His cheeks are crimson, teeth poking out of his parted lips. He stops moaning, the sounds seemingly trapped in his throat before he’s able to choke one out, and then another, and another, sporadically over a few seconds at a time. 

Through your own moans, you ask him, “You like that, Mav?” 

Mav only cries out in response, his hands finding your hips as you bounce, throwing his head back against the pillow again.

Your hips work magically for the both of you; Mav is practically torturing himself trying not to let go, and you’re seeing stars from the angle he’s reaching inside of you. The pleasure turns to electricity, jolts coursing through your body when he suddenly reaches up to cup your breasts, squeezing deliciously. You tremble at his touch, fingernails digging into his chest.

That’s enough to send him over the edge, and Mav cums without warning in warm spurts inside of you. Overwhelmed by the tight, wet heat, he sputters underneath you, groaning loudly. You watch his body jerk and his legs tense, and the sight alone brings you to your own edge. You lean down to capture his mouth in yours as you both cum. Maverick kisses you languidly, mouth vibrating against you as his moans continue to spill freely. 

Not wanting to overstimulate him, you slide off of him and slip into his side. He immediately wraps an arm around you, pulling you tight against his chest. His heavy breathing doesn’t slow; utterly blown away by the orgasm, relishing in it. 

You pant against his neck, head leaning against his shoulder. He’s warm, slightly sweaty and you can feel his heartbeat, quick and booming in his chest. You run your fingers over his chest, feather light touches to help him relax. 

“That was..” 

“Shh,” you quiet him, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “Take it all in for a sec.”

[stopthatfool]

also what are some of your favourite mav headcanons? Or just thoughts about top gun in general your opinions are so correct

another one! YAAAAAAA! thank u cal i will now yap. (warning all my headcanons stick really close to canon and aren't very like.. "fun." they're more or less just crazed character analyses)

thinking about THE mav is not a twink post i made like a month ago. i saw someone call it the "twink mav discourse" and honestly it's my magnum opus. my friend took a pic of me holding up a sign that said "I started top gun tumblr discourse" it was great.

other than that, I definitely think mav has adhd. I mean that's how i write his thought processes at least. I always think of him skipping over words when reading, not due to "inattention" but just because he's eager to get to the point, or he just automatically thinks the smaller words are less important, therefore can be skipped. (I do this all the time. I'm really terrible at reading out loud because of it.) Plus the classic mav acting without thinking is straight out of the adhd diagnosis. and the "appearing to be unable to listen to or carry out instructions."

That being said, i don't think mav would ever consider himself to have adhd or even think of it as an option. I'm very much on that "mav and ice are middle aged men who were in the military during the reagan administration therefore they definitely have some questionable beliefs and understandings of the world because and the environment of which they were trained." like mav is the type of guy to be like "ok you have adhd, that's fine i guess. but I don't. what r u talking about. like sure all these symptoms apply to me but i am the outlier i don't have a disability." Same with Ice and him reading all the OCD symptoms, my guy would literally just take it as proof that he's a really good soldier and further perpetuate his own OCD habits (no, ice! don't do that same movement over and over again until it feels right! ur spiraling ice! someone help him!)

I also have lots of feelings of how Ice and Mav would/wouldn't show physical affection. like i don't think they hold hands in public and I think it's a mix of DADT, internalized homophobia, and honestly wanting to keep their relationship as private as possible (which one could argue is another effect of DADT and simply being queer and in the american military in the 80s. like how did they not kill themselves, they're stronger than me). idk this is already getting long and convoluted so i will now stop.

[foreveraweirdoneslife]

If anybody cares, I'm writing a little trans/non-binary/genderfluid Mav slice of life fic at the moment with Ice being the most affirmative boyfriend on earth.

Pretty much self-indulgent fluff but maybe somebody wants to read it when I'm done with it.