#tg fanfic

[foreveraweirdoneslife]

Weekend Trip [hangster] - Chapter 1

So I started writing another fic!

Summary: Jake's first weekend with Bradley in the Mitchell-Kazansky house. It's chaos and banter and maybe also a bit embarrassing.

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw, Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell.

Rating: E.

About the Chapter: Bradley and Jake drive down to San Diego to spend the weekend with Mav and Ice.

CLICK HERE TO READ!

[film-in-my-soul]

ehehe kicking down the door of your inbox to ask for icemav and t for toys

-> Cockring, Hand Job, Rimming, Blow Job (mentioned) <-

T is for Toys

Ice knows it's better not to give in to Maverick when he's being intentionally annoying or trying to actively goad Ice into playing whatever game he's started without warning. But there's little use in trying since Maverick barely waits for Ice to close the door to his house, twisting his hands into the collar of Ice's ratty workout shirt and dragging him into a kiss. Maverick uses his body, compact and hot, to bully Ice back, undeterred as it takes Ice a second to find his footing and get with the program.

It's not until Ice's knees hit his mattress and he has a lapful of five foot six, persistent aviator pulling back to smirk down at him, dangerous even on the ground, that he realizes he's been played. The Iceman is stone cold, firm, and unyielding, but when there's a pert ass right above his rapidly filling cock, a hand in his hair, and a tongue in his mouth, well, the Iceman can't help but melt.

Just his luck that Maverick had learned that secret all too easily and isn't above using that knowledge when there's something he wants and is intent on Ice to give him.

"Did you know the record for male orgasms in one day is twelve?"

Ice knows not to engage; he knows that there's trouble dancing in Maverick's eyes and purpose on his tongue, but the smaller man pulls himself even tighter against Ice and drags his mouth over the shell of Ice's ear, breath hot and lips soft from their kissing.

"How close do you think I can get?"

The shiver that runs down Ice's back is both involuntary and obvious, given the way Ice feels Maverick's mouth curl into a knowing smirk as he shifts down to nip at Ice's jaw. Ice's grip on Maverick's hips tighten, and though Maverick won't push him to try, won't do more than tease and whine about Ice being boring if he doesn't indulge what Maverick is clearly wheedling for, it's too late. Already, Ice's thoughts drift to the bedside table where he keeps his slick and condoms, where beneath a box of tissues and his emergency flashlight is something he's used once or twice and had bought on a whim.

It's either fate or Maverick's habit of snooping while Ice is in the shower that's brought this entire situation to fruition. And where Ice might have at least tried to put up a good show of making Maverick work for it, Maverick's got his mouth latched to Ice's collar and is mindlessly grinding his ass over Ice's dick. There's nothing to do but tip them both to the mattress and get on with it.

Maverick beams at Ice, sprawled across the bed where Ice has rolled them.

Ice runs his hands under Maverick's shirt and gets a knee between Maverick's thighs. "Let's find out.

They don't have a hop in the morning anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maverick doesn't make a comment when Ice pulls out the cockring after he's sucked Maverick off and fingered him to orgasm (two down, and many more to go if Maverick gets his way), which only lends credence to Ice's assumption that the ambush was planned. Too good of timing and too ready to throw down the challenge.

Regardless, Mavericks' excitement is evident by the fact he doesn't quip about Ice not being able to pace himself or keep from shooting off. He doesn't even tease Ice for owning it (Ice had been out of town, a little buzzed, and the worker at the sex shop hadn't blinked twice at him when he'd put it on the counter.) All Maverick does is make a begrudging sound when Ice hauls him off by his hair so he can get the silicone locked snuggly around the base of his dick and around his balls.

Uncomfortable for only a moment while he adjusts, Ice distracts himself by taking himself in hand and stroking from base to tip slowly, amused by the hungry look in Maverick's eyes. He tugs once on Maverick's hair when the brunet moves to duck back down to mouth at him some more.

"Blowing me doesn't exactly add to the tally, Mav." Ice wishes it did since the next best place that isn't a cockpit is Maverick's mouth, but that's not what Maverick has asked for, and despite the ridiculousness of the objective, Ice is nothing if not goal-orientated. If Maverick wants to get as close to twelve orgasms as possible before he physically can't anymore, Ice will get him there.

Maverick seemingly comes to the same conclusion. He throws himself down on the sheets and hooks his hands behind his knees, lifting them up toward his ears to be exposed without shame. Ice stifles a groan, Maverick's hole shiny from lube and twitching with want. He has to take his hand off his dick because even with the ring keeping his orgasm tempered, Ice won't risk dragging himself to the point where keeping it on is no longer an option.

Crawling forward, between Maverick's spread thighs, Ice replaces Maverick's hands with his own biceps, crooking Maverick's legs over his elbows to haul his bottom half off of the mattress until he can sling Maverick's thigh onto either side of his neck, loving how Maverick's body stretching taut, the position forcing him to brace on his shoulders, head thrown back to balance, hands scrambling to compensate.

Ice doesn't enjoy the taste of lube, but the promise of musky heat to bury his tongue in supersedes that minimal distaste, and Maverick's cry as he drives into his already stretched entrance washes away the lingering synthetic flavor.

By the time Maverick is clenching around Ice's tongue and the finger he'd added once the begging started, Ice's jaw and shoulders are sore. He has to exert more strength than normal, what with Maverick thrashing and trying to rock himself against his mouth, so when he finally lowers Maverick's body back to something more comfortably horizontal, Ice has to stretch out his arms. It allows Ice a moment to check Maverick over, pleased with his glassy eyes and fuck-drunk expression slackening his lips as he pants and shakes, a sticky hand still around his spent cock.

"That's three," Ice says, forcing nonchalance into his tone. He replaces Maverick's weak grip with his own, heedless of the overstimulated whine that flies from Maverick's throat. Ice wonders at what point Maverick will start regretting asking him to play this particular kind of game. When he'll understand the power of stamina he's given Ice by not protesting the cockring when he had the chance.

Ice knows that moment is unlikely to come, not with Maverick's slipping coherence and a drive to push his limits weaved beneath his skin so firmly it'll never be shaken loose.

"Let me know when you want to tap out."

Maverick bares his teeth in a display of feral arousal and determination. He's a wild thing in messy sheets, flushed and covered in spend and sweat, the antithesis to Ice's purposeful composure. He ruts up pointedly into Ice's tight fist, wincing without concern and letting out a high laugh that's broken by squeaking yips of pleasure-pain.

"You're gonna have to fuck me unconscious first," Maverick pants, all bravado and blown eyes. "If you can." A not-so-subtle jab at the toy around Ice's cock.

Ice increases the speed of his strokes and bends down to spear his tongue between Maverick's lips, stealing the next slew of sounds and pleas as he slips two fingers back into Maverick's hole to press unrelenting against Maverick's prostate, not stopping even as Maverick locks up and shivers through a fourth orgasm, only half-hard in Ice's hand, choking on a sob.

It's only when Maverick stops twitching and trying to buck Ice off without thought that Ice pulls his hands back and straightens, throwing Maverick's still trembling legs around his waist, tapping his cock against the red-hot ring of muscle he'll be spending the next hour or so ruining. Ice waits for Maverick's tear-rimmed eyes to land on him, slightly unfocused but no less blazing.

"Don't waste your breath worrying about whether I'll last, Mav," Ice lines up and teases his tip into Maverick's body. "This isn't the only toy I've got in the drawer."

[icezansky]

a fic by Icezansky

chapter 1/3

rating: Explicit

summary: When Jake Seresin first enlisted in Starfleet, he never anticipated the places he would "boldly go" with Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

relationships: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell/Jake "Hangman" Seresin

tags: Alternate Universe - Starfleet (Star Trek), Body Switch, Tentacles, Mpreg, Sex Pollen, Fuck or Die, Masturbation, Soulmates, (sort of), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Captain!Maverick, First Officer!Hangman

words: 7,254

[maccawrites]

Because I've finally started to work on it, here's a snippet of your Wings AU fic, dear@cannibalhellhound. Hope you like it :)

    Tom prided himself over many things. His wings, his name, his reputation in the Navy, the way he flew. Most of those things he achieved by himself, stepping out of his father's shadow and growing to be his own person, aside from what his old man wanted him to be.   What Tom didn't pride himself over was the squeal he let out when one Carole Bradshaw hugged him. His only consolation prize was that Ron visibly keeled over when he got his hug, face white and eyes wide.    They had known Carole ever since the Academy, when the three of them became friends and Nick spent an entire evening talking about her, but they only got to meet at Top Gun. Nick had asked if they wanted to come by his house on Saturday because Carole and his son, Bradley, were finally coming down to stay with them. They were going to celebrate with a dinner, something small, just for the family, but Carole wanted to meet the men that helped her Goose pass the Academy mostly unscathed and asked him to invite them as well. 

[kyanitedragon]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Tokyo Ghoul Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Momochi Ikuma & Nagachika Hideyoshi, Kaneki Ken | Sasaki Haise & Nagachika Hideyoshi, Kirishima Touka & Sankou, Nagachika Hideyoshi & Sankou, Kirishima Touka & Kaneki Ken, Kaneki Ken & Sankou Characters: Nagachika Hideyoshi, Momochi Ikuma, Kaneki Ken | Sasaki Haise, Kirishima Touka, Sankou (Tokyo Ghoul), Kiyama (Tokyo Ghoul), Cain (Tokyo Ghoul), Sanko (Tokyo Ghoul) Summary:

If Hide had a nickel for every ghoul he saved the life of, he would have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

[thebahwrites]

Carole Bradshaw Donovan

              “Darling”

I'll use you as a warning sign That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind And I'll use you as a focal point  So I don't lose sight of what I want

And I'll use you as a warning sign That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be Right in front of me Talk some sense to me

 Iceman - Maverick - Goose - Slider - Charlie

blood // water.  (a Top Gun Mafia AU on ao3)

[charterandbarter]

it's not done but hhhhhhhhhrgh. sometimes. you revisit your roots.

[iceman-maverick]

will eventually fill some of these prompts in my ask box but i really have to start working on my fightertown secret santa prompt

[k9effect]

I thought about Mav passed out at his work desk with headphones on and it spiralled into this whole thing

Mav always felt a little lonely.

Even when he had people around him who loved him, he always ended up on his own one way or another and felt that loneliness seeping in. Goose was the first to notice. Before Goose's trips back to Tennessee to see Carole included Mav, he would come back to base to hear about how his pilot had lost a bit of his shine while he was away.

That's when Goose started making the recordings.

It was a small gift, but it meant the world to Mav. A brand new walkman, headphones and all, and a single cassette tape. This tape didn't have music on it, no, it contained a three hour recording of Goose reading though the F-14 Tomcat Flight Manual and adding in his own comedic commentary.

He wasn't sure what Mav would think of it, but when he returned home from another trip and found his pilot curled up asleep on the lounge, headphones on, walkman clutched in his hands, the tape run through, he realised he had made the right decision. Once Mav stirred, realising Goose had returned, he pulled the RIO onto the couch and thanked him for how thoughtful and considerate of a gift it was. That it made him feel less alone.

Goose continued the recordings. They were simple things he could make while completing other work. An hour recording here of Goose rambling while he completed chores, half an hour recording there of Goose muttering while he completes some paperwork. Even after Mav started joining him on his trips to Carole and they inevitably became attached at the hip, Goose continued making recordings. They grew more sincere over time, telling Mav that he was loved and he was strong and could get through anything.

Maverick was very glad he continued making them. It was a piece of Goose he could always carry with him.

Because one day, Goose wasn't there anymore.

Ice was never quite certain why his wingman was always listening to music on a busted walkman, but he never questioned it.

That was until he was packing Mav an overnight bag after an accident and Mav had specifically requested the walkman. Ice had taken a closer look at it and seen the writing on the cassette.

‘GOOSE - 12’

Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled on the headphones and pressed play.

“Y'know, Mav-” It was Goose's voice, Ice realised with a pang deep in his chest, “- I'm pretty sure, by like, most, if not all, the laws of aviation, you should have broken our Tomcat's airframe several times over. I honestly don't know how she's still together-” There was the clinking of dishes and sloshing of water along with the distinct sound of a bristly, sudsy brush scrubbing metal. “- What sort of demon did you make a deal with to manage this? I'm not arguing, I'd rather not face a board of inquiry again, but I'm curious.”

Ice paused it.

He realised very quickly what the cassette was and that, judging on the number, there were more of these.

Mav was always listening to Goose talk.

He packed the walkman into the overnight bag with much more care than he offered possibly anything.

Mav stared.

He blinked once, then twice. But it changed nothing.

There was a cassette sitting on his bed. On it, was scribbled a name and a number.

‘ICE - 1’

Beneath it was a small, simple note.

‘Listen to me.’

Mav pushed the cassette into his walkman and, sitting down, let it play.

“Hey, Mav. Sorry if this is weird for you, it sure feels weird for me. I- uh- I realised what the walkman is for. I'm sorry I teased you for it, it's not dumb and old. I know Slider thought you were pretty cool for having one. He's got one too. But anyways, I found a recording of Goose and I realised why you have this so I thought, y'know, maybe I could make you some new ones? To make up for the teasing at least. I mightn't be as good as Goose but I'll give it my best shot. I've got a book here, I'm just gonna read it out loud for a while, okay? Okay. Here we go…”

Mav listened to the whole thing in one sitting. It was long and sweet and Mav felt something aching inside him, something that hadn't ached in a long time.

Every week or so, Mav would find another cassette in his room with an increased number on it. It was just Ice for a while, but then he found one labelled ‘SLIDER - 1’. Then another a few months later labelled ‘HOLLYWOOD - 1’, then ‘WOLFMAN - 1’. His collection grew as more people helped continue Goose's legacy.

The day he found ‘VIPER - 1’ he felt like he was five again. Viper's recording was two hours worth of him recounting childhood stories of Mav, stories of him with his parents, of just his parents, and deployment tales of his dad.

Once Mav buys his first proper home, an old hangar out in the Mojave Desert, he builds a small shelf to hold all of his cassettes instead of keeping them in a bag or a box. It's then, when they're all neatly organised together, that he realises just how many he has.

The original thirty-one from Goose.

Three from Carole.

One short one from Bradley.

Seventeen from Iceman.

Ten from Slider.

Seven each from Hollywood and Wolfman.

Four from Chipper.

Three from Sunny.

And, so far, Two from Viper.

He doesn't feel so lonely anymore. Everyone he loves has put time and effort into making sure he doesn't feel alone. That instead, he feel loved.

And he sure does.

Even now, years down the track, Ice will stumble upon Maverick passed out at his work desk late at night ontop of a half finished project, with his old walkman next to him, headphones on, listening to Goose laugh his way through the Tomcat manual.

[polar-equinoxx]

be still my beating heart.

ao3 link

[enthyrea]

A couple of days later, while mindlessly doodling on his couch, Pete finds his hand laying out the familiar lines of swooped back blonde-gray hair, boxy eyes lined with crows feet, and sharp cheekbones. The face is smiling, something soft and tender. He didn’t even realize until he was basically done with it. Pete slams his forehead into the paper. He’s so screwed.

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC [bags pots and pans together]

it's linked here: rose period by enthyrea

this was supposed to be like 2k words max... yeah idk what happened either. anyways thanks so much to notchka for inspiring this :) a good chunk of this fic is just me writing about how pretty val kilmer is so if that sounds like ur jam then check it out <3

[foreveraweirdoneslife]

New Top Gun WIP - help me decide!

I'm almost done writing Weekend Trip so my mind - naturally - is already thinking about which story I start next (because I need a shorter second WIP next to I Think We're Alone Now). Please vote for the one that tickles your fancy the most! ✌🏻

Idea 1: 5 times Mav only thinks that he loves Ice and 1 time he actually says it - icemav coming together later in life.

Idea 2: How Bradley came to call Mav and Ice his dads.

Idea 3: Icemav's 10th wedding anniversary rolls around. Mav bribes Ice into throwing a big party. Meanwhile Jake wants to propose to Bradley. Probably mostly Jake-centered. RomCom vibes.

Idea 4: Ice helping Mav relax after a long day in the cockpit. Smut.

[film-in-my-soul]

Love in a Box Chapter 1

Fandom: Top Gun

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,166 (1 of 5)

Summary: The dawn of senior year sees Tom Kazansky free in a way he hasn't been since childhood, but all he wants to do is live his life as undisturbed as possible. Between a best friend who is eager to reintroduce the 'new' Tom to their small-town social sphere and finding himself smack in front of the boy he's been a little infatuated with since he was fifteen, it looks like Tom's plans are about to go flying out the window.

Based on THIS fanvideo by sophie.

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[kryptonitejelly]

nick amaro x reader // law and order SVU

yes, we are going there - what have i done 😭 no plot, really. just a moment.

-

The last thing Nick had expected to find when walking back into the SVU bullpen was you; and yet, here he was, eyes fixed on you as his strides quickened. He notices Fin’s smirk that finds itself aimed his way as he weaves his way between Amanda and Liv to get to you, but he ignores it.

He lets his gaze drag itself over your form, head down on his desk, the lamp on his desk casting a soft glow around your features; the extra suit jacket he leaves hanging on the back of his chair draped over your shoulders. You have a laptop open in front of you, a case file and note pad within reach, all topped off by an uncapped pen lying caged between your curled fingers. He sees the pair of heels which you had shed, one standing, one lying on its side peeking out from under his desk. A dip of his gaze reveals the deep green of the dress which you had on, one of his favourite dresses on you - one that he knew you had worn in to work today in anticipation of Friday having supposed to be date night.

Nick slows his pace as he approaches you, content in the few seconds to allow himself to watch the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders. The sight stirs a mix of emotions in his chest - the swell of emotion that came rushing in whenever he set his eyes on you, and a heavy tinge of guilt. Guilt that he had to cancel the first date night you both had managed to plan after weeks of clashing schedules, guilt that you taken it so well, and guilt that you had somehow found your way here, to the SVU bullpen so that you could both head home together.

Nick drops to a knee, bringing himself to eye level with your face. He raises his hand to cup the side of your face gently. His touch on your skin is light, soft, but it makes you stir immediately.

“Hey,” Nick’s voice grounds you as you let your mind grind to a start, your surroundings shifting into focus. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought we could go home together,” your lips furl up into a gentle smile, voice soft, your eyes, still hazy with sleep, locked onto Nick’s. You forget your bearings for a moment until you hear a cough from behind Nick as various footsteps shuffle into the bullpen. You straighten up slowly, blinking the sleep from your eyes, legs stretching out beneath you as you offer a wave to the rest of the team trudging in.

“An ADA slumming it at Amaro’s desk?” Fin muses, voice joking and light.

“What would Barba say,” Munch follows, expression deadpan.

“Unbecoming isn’t it?” Liv continues with a quirk of one end of her lip.

“What can I say,” you play along, “not all of us have Barba’s flair.”

“Clearly,” Amanda states, looking pointedly at Nick which earns a series of chuckles from the rest of the team and yourself.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick waves a hand in the air dismissively, but his gaze doesn’t leave you. You tilt your body downward slightly, hands reaching for your discarded heels. Nick notices and he is back on a knee in one fluid motion.

“Nick,” you protest as he places a hand along your calf, his other propping your heel up, helping you back into your heels. You hazard a glance behind your boyfriend, only to find the rest of the team, tactfully busying themselves with their desks. “I’m not Cinderalla,” you state, but with no real protest as you let him guide your other heel back on.

“I’m not your Prince Charming?” He teases, not caring who else heard, giving your calf a gentle squeeze before winking at you and straightening back into a stand.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” you pull a face as you turn to gather your belongings, making quick work of shoving them into your bag with Nick’s help.

“Way to hurt a man,” he places a hand on his chest as you shrug his spare jacket off your shoulders; Nick takes it from you, hanging it back on his chair.

“She could hurt you more” Fin cuts in again with a sing-song voice. It makes you chuckle, as you catch a wink Amanda throws in your direction.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be Detective Tutuola,” Nick asks all while shrugging off the jacket on his shoulders to place it over yours, letting it hang off your frame. He flicks off the light switch on his desk and picks your bag up.

“If I say no, will you let me tag along?”

Your yes comes at the same time as Nick’s absolutely not, and it earns you another series of chuckles around the room.

“Don’t call me till Monday,” Nick calls out, while threading his fingers through yours as he starts to guide you towards the lift. You barely manage to call out a goodbye, before the lift doors shut on you both.

“I didn’t-” your protest is cut short by Nick’s lips on yours, his free hand circling your waist, going over the fabric of his jacket on your shoulders. You let yourself sink into the kiss, hand sliding up his shoulder and behind his neck as the lift descends to the parking garage.

“I’m sorry I had to cancel today,” he says, forehead resting against yours as he breaks the kiss. His eyes are closed, but you flicker yours open as you run your hand from the back of his neck to cup the side of his jaw.

“You have nothing to apologise for Detective Amaro,” you end with the professional term of address in attempt to diffuse some of the guilt you see in his eyes. “Work,” you continue with a light shrug - Nick was a victim of you cancelling on him as well, and you understood.

“I was really looking forward to tonight,” he says, still apologetic as he finally opens his eyes while leaning his face into your palm.

“I can think of a few ways you can spend the rest of the weekend making it up to me,” you say, dropping your voice to a lower, almost sultry tone as you lean into him, pressing the front of your body into his. Nick responds by pulling you in closer, his hand dipping down the hem of his jacket on your shoulders to slide down onto the curve of your ass.

“Take me home Detective Amaro,” you say as the lift door dings open.

“Your wish is my command,” Nick says in response, taking the opportunity to sear another quick kiss onto your lips before tugging you out of the lift.

[no-eyes-yet-but-vibing]

love how fanfiction can be so beautifully written, pure poetry and then there's quotes such as "It's this or prostitution."

[kyanitedragon]

Double-Edged Sword

Word Count: 460

(AO3 Link)

Touka and Kaneki were on the other side of Anteiku, whispering and arguing. They thought they were out of earshot of Hide, but they very much were not.

They did this often, and to Hide, it was a double-edged sword.

On one hand, Hide liked it. He liked eavesdropping on them, hearing information he wasn’t supposed to. It was already hard enough to guess what was going on, hard enough to find public information about ghouls. He needed a cheat, an upper hand, even if it meant violating the privacy of his friends. He wasn’t going to do anything bad with the information he got, so it was fine, right?

On the other hand… it proved that Kaneki, and shockingly even Touka, didn’t know as much as they should. They were putting themself at great risk, doing such a bad job at hiding their hushed words. What if Hide was another human who overheard? What if he was an investigator on a coffee break?

So as much as he wanted to keep their vulnerability open for himself to use, he knew he couldn’t let others take advantage of that same weakness.

And so, while they were arguing about meaningless things, before they moved on to deeper ghoul secrets, Hide gave up his upper hand. He joked loudly across the shop, taking Kaneki’s side in the argument.

The two of them flinched and turned around. Kaneki was blushing in embarrassment and looked terrified. Touka looked shocked and enraged.

“Mind your own business!” She yelled.

Hide groaned internally, worried she didn’t understand the close call. But then she grabbed Kaneki and yanked him into the backroom, fuming while she did so. He honestly couldn’t tell if her anger was an act, or if it was genuine.

Ah, the other double-edged sword.

Of wanting Touka to get close to him, for her to trust him, to be friends with him. Because he liked her, she saved him, and most of all, any friend of Kaneki’s was a friend of his.

But also knowing that she was a ghoul, one who held her secret very close to her chest. And to respect that, Hide had to play dumb, which meant anything from mildly annoying her when asking her on dinner dates, to enraging her to allow her free excuses to keep away from him.

Sacrificing his own knowledge for their safety.

Sabotaging a potential friendship for their safety.

But it was surely nothing compared to all the sacrifices they had to make. So he shoved his complaints down, and instead dwelled on the thought that they were both alive and safe. That was enough. That had to be enough for him.