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thebahwrites · 1 year

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Prompt from @starryinspace Icemav, first date post top gun 1986 cinematic timeline

Just The Two Of Us

“Hey Mitchell!” Tom calls out as soon as he gathers the courage to do so; though he would never admit to fear in the first place.

‘Being the bigger person’ wasn’t Iceman’s thing; coming back from the Layton rescue, now waiting for new orders and yet Tom Kazansky felt like he was living on the edge of a knife. Racing his own emotions and fears to not lose a chance. Much easier when it came to flying death machines, a lot fucking harder when it came to chasing his wingman.

“You got this.” Slider hums quietly by his side with a half grin, fixing the khaki’s buttons before Tom makes a beeline for Maverick, who’d just tilted his head up like a confused puppy. He doesn’t need the pep talk but it’s nice anyway, right now he has to hold back from wanting to reach for Maverick’s hairs and ruffle the unruly locks. Pete Mitchell, with those stupid big green eyes, laying back in a booth with his legs thrown over Hollywood’s lap showcasing those asinine cowboy boots, he blinks a couple times as Ice leans over the table, arm over the booth’s wall and hand holding on to the tabletop.

Tom gives Hollywood, Wolfman and Merlin a look over Maverick’s head. “Scatter.” It’s a command more than a request or a suggestion but his confidence pulls it off enough that all three men are sliding from there, leaving him to loom over Pete who lets out a loud snort.

“Oh, who died and made you boss, Kazansky?” Maverick teases, turning his position around to lean into the space vacated by Rick, back hitting the red upholstery, one eyebrow lifting. So smug and cocky but Ice can’t even be mad about it, not anymore. He finds it endearing. Tom waits until they’re pretty much alone even though he’s well aware there’s at least four pair of eyes watching them, piercing strongly into his back.

“No one, I’m just that good Mitchell, keep up.” He snipes back with a smirk and gets Maverick’s trademark one in response. It’s not faux confidence but it’s certainly a lot easier to do it pretending they’re all alone in the world.

“Oh, my bad.” Pete gives him that once over he’s so fond of and picks up a peanut, popping it into his mouth by throwing it in the air with a smooth arc. Show off. “Go on then, whaddya need then, blondie?”

Iceman doesn’t get nervous, Iceman doesn’t get cold feet, Iceman doesn’t get afraid and yet, here he is, almost backtracking on spot. But he doesn’t because Maverick’s gaze is as inviting as it is a challenge, clearing his throat quietly, Tom’s fingers flex around. “Come over to mine tomorrow night, for dinner.”

There’s a quiet stretch of silence as Pete blinks back and Tom ignores the fact there’s a warm crawl of heat along his cheekbones. “Just the two of us.” He adds for good measure so at least it’s clear what he means by it. Pete can say no, if he wants, this is just impersonal enough that—

“Fuck, thought you’d never ask, Ice.”

Of course, Maverick has the gall to crack open a big smile.

(send me fic & aesthetic prompts for the TG’86 crew!)

#writing warmups #received prompts #icemav #iceman x maverick #maverick x iceman #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun fic #tg86 fic #top gun 1986 #//might do a part two for this cause!#//first dates!#abt: my writing

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icezansky · 4 months

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Pontiac Blues

a fic by icezansky

Chapter 4/4

summary: When Tom’s car breaks down outside of a small town on Christmas Eve, Maverick and Goose Auto Repair is the only shop to pick up the phone.

A Hallmark Holiday Movie AU.

relationships: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky/Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, Carole Bradshaw/Nick “Goose” Bradshaw

tags: inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Mechanic!Maverick, Mechanic!Goose, Rich!Iceman, Mentions of Cancer, Alcohol, Bradshaw Family, no betas we die like Goose, Tom drives a Pontiac Firebird, Frottage, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Financial Issues

words: 45.164

#icezansky fic #pontiac blues #top gun fic #tg fic #tg86 fic #icemav fic #IT'S FINALLY DONE WOOOOOO

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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months

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The year is 1995 and Mav disappears off radars on a mission overseas. He's declared MIA and then when satellite pictures of an F-14's wreck show up, declared KIA.

It's a hot August evening when Ice opens his front doors to see a Navy officer with a precisely folded flag in his arms and a JAG lawyer with a suitcase full of documents. Baby Goose should be already sleeping upstairs, preparing for their planned camping trip the day after.

Ice lets them in without a word.

They walk past the living room where Ice had been checking their tent for rust, straight to the kitchen table. They don't sit down.

"On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy—"

"Spare me the bullshit."

He's still holding the flag, letter on top of it, seal unbroken.

"Why are you even here? I'm not his—" Loved one. Ice was just—there. A close friend. A wingman. It doesn't matter whether he loves Mav or not, he will always be just someone in his life, not his loved one. "I'm just his best friend."

"Commander Mitchell stated this address as Bradley Bradshaw's main residence during deployment."

Jesus Christ. He can't—Bradley. What was he going to tell Bradley?

"Commander Mitchell's sole beneficiary is Bradley Bradshaw, and since he's a minor, we need to execute his will alongside our condolences." Bradley lost another parent. And all he has left is a will. "You've been named as Bradley Bradshaw's legal guardian if Commander Mitchell was—unable to take care of him."

"He's never told me that."

He didn't. Not even a word. He knew Mav had a will, they all did. But he never thought enough to make sense of the details.

It couldn't be Ice. He couldn't exist on paper in Mav's life or in Bradley's life.

"You can refuse—"

Ice phases out the words that come after — Mav can't be gone, Mav couldn't have left Bradley to him, Mav couldn't have thought he would be able to care for Bradley alone, without Mav's help and guidance. He couldn't have left them both there with broken hearts.

Ice doesn't believe this. It can't be true. If he stares long enough, the two officers in front of him are going to disappear and he will get a late night call from Mav from the ship and will wake up Baby Goose so they could chat and—

"Ice, I know I should be asleep but can we check if we got enough jars for bugs? I really want to—"

Ice finally comes back to the surroundings.

Bradley stands in the kitchen door, noticing the two people in there, in uniforms. "I'm sorry, sirs, I didn't know—"

At that exact moment, Bradley notices the flag and the unopen letter. He can see it nice and clear — his face falls and he doesn't look at anything but the goddamn flag and the stupid letter made on behalf of the President.

Ice stops breathing. "Bradley—"

"No," he says, shaking his head, so quiet. "Not again, no—"

Before Ice can say anything, Bradley is running back up the stairs.

#mav is fine btw #he's in siberia trying to get back to the usa without getting found out #it'll take him two years to go to the usa via alaska but he'll come back #ice just won't be able to not be a dad by the time he comes back #yes this is kinda a buddie au because both eddie and mav are idiots with kids #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #tg86 #fic ideas #written in a bus trying not to fall asleep #shoulf be a tag it happens so often #q #op #charlie writes

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enthyrea · 10 months

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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

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iceman-maverick · 6 months

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(temporary) amnesia/"I don't understand what that means."

“I don’t understand what that means,” Ice blinks.

Maverick drops his head to hands and begins to say the alphabet backwards in his head to keep himself from throwing the damn clipboard out the window.

“Ice,” Maverick tries again, “It’s a consent form. You have to sign it so that I can take you home,”

Ice nods, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyebrows scrunch as he re-reads the papers in front of him for now the third time since the nurse began the discharge process.

Maverick can't find it in himself to be too put out, though. The bandage around Ice’s forehead must be bothering him since his fingers keep inching their way up to pull at it as he reads. Maverick, unwilling to stare at Ice in discomfort any longer, stands and crosses the distance between his chair and Ice’s bed.

Why they’d require a temporary amnesiac to fill out medical forms, Maverick does not know. But what he does know is that Ice is exhausted, likely in far more pain than he’s letting on, and that hospitals give Mav the creeps.

All compelling reasons to get this show on the road.

“Here,” Mav says, sitting down on the bed’s edge and plucking the clipboard from Ice's hands, “What are you confused about?”

Ice has done a good job filling it out so far - no small feat given the massive concussion and head wound he earned himself this morning by accidentally smashing the edge of his car door into his forehead. Maverick had nearly had a heart attack when he found him crumpled in the garage in a pool of blood. So much for beating the morning traffic.

Ice has spelt his name correctly, has the right address, and even marked down the correct pharmacy around the block from their house. Mav squints his eyes - a perfect mirror of Ice before - as he combs through the forms to find the hold up.

Ice huffs and points to the bottom section of the second to last page in the packet. It reads: Caregiver Consent Form. It’s a check list of the basics - caution when using ovens and other hot surfaces, no operating heavy machinery (Mav’s assuming that would include an F-14), and recommendations to lock up hazardous materials out of sight of the patient.

Ice, clearly running low on patience and eager to get out of the bustling ER, draws his finger over the large paragraph of legal jargon that has Maverick’s eyes swimming. Ice points out Maverick’s legal name as Ice's designated caregiver and then taps on the portion of the form left blank: Relationship to patient.

He looks back to Maverick, eyes wide, and asks, “What am I supposed to put here?”

Maverick blinks at the form. Relationship. Huh.

They’ve been living together for the better part of two years now with Ice having moved in once he joined Maverick back at Top Gun. And they’ve been um, well, together for pretty much just as long. They never talked about labels but it’s been exclusive since the start and Ice has been wearing Mav’s dog tags since January.

Maverick doesn’t have the slightest idea what that makes them but friends sure as hell doesn’t fit. He smirks a bit, and peers around their section of the ER to make sure nobody’s looking. The ER is in total chaos anyways - nurses scrambling, children screaming, and what looks to be a fist fight soon to be erupt between two elderly women fighting over the lone issue of People Magazine.

Maverick leans in and presses a quick kiss to Ice’s cheek, and then takes advantage of Ice's poor, frazzled state to snatch the pen from Ice’s grasp. Maverick delights in the flush that colors Ice's cheeks, and then he begins to write. Ice recovers from his shock quickly, sputters once he reads what Maverick's writing, and then shoves at Maverick’s arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Ice whispers furiously as Mav breaks out into giggles.

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Mav laughs as he scratches out his now aborted attempt at Boyfriend. He instead opts for the safer Roomate. “It’s a Civvy hospital, nobody would’ve found out,”

“You’re an idiot,” Ice huffs fondly, shoving again at Mav’s arm. Ice quickly glances around the place and decides that the cost is clear. Or maybe it's the pain killers dulling his judgement. Either way, Ice drags his fingers lightly down Maverick’s forearm and then intertwines their fingers.

“Take me home,” Ice whispers. He squeezes once, Maverick squeezes back twice.

---

Congratulations! You've unlocked the prequel to my useless-whiny-baby syndrome ice fic (lost in admiration).

We're playing an IceMav askbox fic game. Send me a trope and a first sentence and I'll write at least one paragraph!

#im having too much fun with these omg #top gun #top gun 1986 #tg #tgm #tg86 #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #icemav #iceman x maverick #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #ask game #fic ask game #tg fic ask game #my writing

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katewritesss · 2 months

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I just watched the "Bridgerton" scene where Daphne confesses to Simon in the rain and I got Icemav feels, where Maverick is Daphne and Ice is Simon. Just, imagine it!

#top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #bridgerton #now i want to write this fic #tg86 #or someone please draw it

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diadotcom · 22 days

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okay who wants me to write a sereshaw afl au

#i love sport fics but i dont know any sports #but as an australian i know afl because its like #genetic #the fiancee says bradley plays for st kilda and jake plays for hawks #if you think otherwise tell me i need input #okay so who wants it #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #tg86 #bradley rooster bradshaw #tgm #hangster #jake hangman seresin #fanfiction

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haveyoureadthisfanfic · 3 months

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Summary: Five times Maverick proposed to Iceman, and one time Iceman accepted.

Author: @boasamishipper, @academicgangster

#official fic poll #haveyoureadthisfic #pollblr #tumblr polls #fanfiction #fandom poll #fanfic #fandom culture #internet culture #baby baby i'd get down on my knees for you #Top Gun #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #tg86 #top gun fanfiction #icemav #iceman x maverick

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babygirllinds · 11 months

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The smut is up!!! Have at it, y’all 🫡

"Why not the both of us?" Ice asks quietly like he's trying to hide his words from the other people in the bar. "We're both willing if you are."

Maverick has that same uneasy look back on his face that he had earlier before they entered the bar as he looks at them. It's not conventional for an omega to spend a heat with two alphas, but he wants more than anything at this moment to say yes to them.

Slider leans across the table, deepening his voice for the next words that spill out, "Come on, shortstack, can you really tell me you've never thought of taking two alpha knots in that tight little hole of yours?"

Maverick makes a choking sound and he knows he's caught by the way Slider smirks knowingly.

Ice and Slider are good bros who just want Maverick to not be in pain during his heat... they also might have feelings for him and their help isn't entirely selfless.

•

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Top Gun

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Ron "Slider" Kerner/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Warnings: None

Chapters: 2/2

Words: 10,964

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mollymauk-teafleak · 10 months

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can I go where you go?

I wanted to write something short, sweet and featuring old married navy pilots. Huge thanks to @hangsters who is my favourite person on the planet.

Please reblog and go comment over on Ao3!

------

Maverick knows theres a lot he isn't very good at. He's not good at following orders. He's not good at playing by the rules. He's not good at listening.

But one thing he was always good at was flying planes. And now, he's not a naval aviator anymore. He's a retired naval aviator.

So what the hell is he supposed to do now?

------

He was never Maverick in his dreams.

In there, he was always still Pete Mitchell, even now, even after forty years. In fact, they were one of only two places where he still was.

It was like real life but viewed on a screen that was blowing in the wind, things trembled and swelled and shifted in front of him. He reached for the throttle but missed it the first few times, groping blindly as the sky outside of the windshields shimmered in nonexistent heat. But Pete didn’t need to see anything to know the danger was out there, the black shapes hunting him down, faster and meaner than he could ever be. Pete was running out of time, he knew that with the cold, chilling certainty of a dream. When he was awake, he always saw that way out, even if it was one he had to make himself, but there was no winning against his own mind. They had minutes, maybe seconds.

But those seconds didn’t just belong to Pete Mitchell. He had Bradley in the seat behind him, at least mostly Bradley. Sometimes things would shift and it would be Goose behind him, laughing and grinning, unaware of death standing just at his shoulder. But even when it was Bradley, he spoke with the voice of his younger self, a voice that sounded like it should be coming from somewhere around Pete’s hip, clinging to his leg, begging him for help. It’s not working! And it wouldn’t work, there was no ejecting from this.

I’m sorry. Alarms were blaring, the wind was rushing. The blues of sky and sea condensed into smoke, a fire they were flying right into and couldn’t avoid. I’m sorry. Pete was talking to Goose, to Carole, to Ice, to Bradley and it wasn’t enough for any of them. I’m sorry.

The moment the fire engulfed them, his eyes snapped open, same as every other time he had this dream, leaving him lying on his back in a tangle of sweat damp blankets. There were worse nightmares, that was for sure, he could at least instantly wake up and tell himself you did it, you pulled it off, you got the kid home safe.

But the weight on his chest didn’t lift, even as their bedroom came into focus around him, as the sound of soft breathing beside him replaced the sound of the screaming alarms and whistling air that would run out too soon. The dream had let him go but the anxiety was still hissing in his nerves and churning his stomach.

He was never Maverick in his dreams. But at least he always got to wake up and know he was Maverick, that he owned that name completely and earned it every day in the air.

This morning, he wasn’t so sure.

Maverik had opened his eyes to a perfect Saturday morning. He didn’t know what time it was, it was an hour late enough to honey the room with warm sunlight. Not quite the fierce San Diego heat, just the promise of it, not too much that he couldn’t turn and burrow back under the blankets. Not something Mav had ever actually done before. Navy pilots didn’t tend to sleep in on Saturdays.

But he wasn’t a navy pilot anymore. And he had no idea what retired Navy pilots were supposed to do.

He’d known it was coming for a while, disentangling from the bureaucratic monster that was the United States military took a hell of a long time, even when you were sleeping with the guy who was meant to be in charge of it all. There had been months between him and Ice kissing on the carrier after the Dagger mission, that moment where he’d realized he was done, that he wasn’t strong enough to live any more moments thinking he’d never see his family again, and right now. The morning after his last official day of service.

He was probably supposed to have spent those months processing everything, coming to terms with his decision. Ice had tried to coax him into conversations a few times over the last months. Not outright, they’d been together long enough for him to know better than that. But there had been strong hands on the small of his back in quiet moments out on the deck, a shoulder for him to lean on for a few minutes of silence after he’d finished his request letter but hadn’t had the courage to put it in the envelope yet. Spaces where Mav could have taken the lid off a little, shook things out at Ice’s feet and let him hold him in one piece if things went bad.

And lying here now, no longer a Naval aviator, wearing a set of dog tags around his neck that were just a symbol now, Maverick really wished he’d taken those chances, stepped into those spaces. Maybe he’d know what to do right now if he had. Because all Mav had as far as plans went was to try and not throw up.

“I can feel you vibrating, Mitchell…”

Mav started guiltily, only now realizing that he was tapping his fingers on the mattress and bouncing his heel, “Shit…”

Ice’s chuckle was rough with sleep, his eyes slightly clouded when he rolled over to smile at Maverick, though the creases around his eyes hadn’t changed since ‘86. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, finding the sun up before his husband must have happened only a handful of times. But he couldn’t lie and say the moment Ice wrapped his arms around him, he didn’t breathe a little easier.

“It’s okay. Wanted to be up with you anyway,” Ice’s voice didn’t lose its rough edge, he always sounded like he’d just woken up lately and that was on a good day. But it was a strong vibration against Maverick’s ear as he burrowed into his bare chest, “You had a nightmare?”

It wasn’t a question really. Ice knew him too well, enough that he’d also know it wasn’t the nightmare that was upsetting Mav.

“Yeah…” Maverick’s fingers found the chain around Ice’s neck, the one that matched his own, letting the familiar coolness of it make him brave, “Ice…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

He felt lips against his forehead, pressing softly, “Sweetheart…”

Maverick sighed, “You can tell me I’m an idiot. I know I should have figured this shit out about three months ago.”

Ice snorted, shifting onto his back and bringing Maverick with him, letting his husband sprawl, cat like, on his chest. Roughened fingers trailed down his spine and softened the knowing smirk on Ice’s face.

“Sweetheart, you wouldn’t have got this figured out in three years and we both know it. This was always going to hurt a little, even if you had listened to me.”

“Well, good thing I didn’t bother doing that then,” Mav muttered against Ice’s skin, still warm from the sheets, still smelling faintly of soap from his shower before bed.

He could feel Ice smiling as he traced his spine up and down, “Well, we’re here now and there’s no time like the present. So what’s bothering you, sweetheart?”

Maverick tried to marshal the thoughts that were forming the small storm in his stomach. He felt the urge to clam up, lock down, to preserve some of the easy confidence that shielded him along with the sunglasses and leather jacket. But he had none of that right now. He didn’t need it, not with Ice, he never had.

“I…I guess I’m not sure how to…not be a pilot?” he wound his fingers more securely in the chain of his husband’s tags, “I don’t remember liking myself a lot before I was one.”

Ice’s lazy grip on him tightened a fraction, “That wasn’t you. It was where you were and what was happening to you. You’re so far from that, sweetheart, and you’re sure as hell not going back.”

Maverick nodded, finding it so much easier to believe things when Ice said them, like there was some magic in his calm, authoritative voice that made things real, “I know that. I do. I mean, fuck, if you’d told that kid that one day he’d be wearing a set of dog tags that said Captain ‘Maverick’ Mitchell…”

“Not to mention the Admiral’s wedding ring,” Ice teased, hand slipping down to lightly squeeze his hip where he was ticklish.

“That too…” Mav jerked, grinning crookedly, shifting so that hand could slip a little further, “But you know what I mean. That I’d have my wings, that strangers in the store would call me ‘sir’ without even thinking twice. That I’d be someone’s dad.”

“The best dad she could ask for,” Ice added, “But you know none of that goes away just because you’ve retired, sweetheart.”

“Yeah…” Maverick murmured, though it sounded like he wanted to put a question mark at the end.

Ice made a gentle noise, rolling them so Maverick was pressed down into the bed, so he could find that anxious gaze and hold it.

“Mav. All of those things you love about yourself, the Navy didn’t give them to you. You earned them. You worked hard for them and whether you’re a Captain or not, no one’s going to take them from you.”

Maverick exhaled softly, leaning into Ice’s hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, “But…what do I do now? Without the Navy telling me what to do?”

“As if you ever listened in the first place,” Ice flashed him a smile, holding Maverick’s face between his hands like he was something precious, “Well…if you need to be told what to do, then here. We’re going to get out of bed, we’re going to shower. I’m gonna go first because you say I take forever and you’ll sneak in with me and let me wash your hair for you…and then you’ll steal my shirt for when we go get breakfast together. We’ll go to the same place we always go, where the waitress flirts with you but she flirts with me more. And I’ll have to order an extra hash brown because for some unknown reason, you always steal mine rather than just order your own. And then we’ll walk along the beach, you’ll kick water at me because you always do…and then we’ll come home and watch the game, you can tell me all your incorrect opinions about the 49ers. And you’ll fall asleep on my shoulder and…and I’ll remember that I’m the luckiest man on the goddamn planet.”

Maverick swallowed, feeling heat prickling behind his eyelids when he blinked, “Yeah? That sounds nice.”

Ice brought his forehead down to gently rest on his husband’s, “And after that…well, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Maverick put his hands over Ice’s, tangling their fingers together, feeling something unbreakable in that, “If every day looks like that one? Count me in, sweetheart.”

Ice’s lips were warm on his, sure, certain. From that one point of contact, Maverick could feel color flooding in, the sketched out, empty version of his body he’d woken up in suddenly becoming real, becoming completely his own again. He let go of Ice’s hands, wrapping his arms around his husband’s broad shoulders, following the chain of his dog tags again. He kissed him back, fingers tracing old scars on Ice’s skin that Maverick could map even better than his own, ghosting over freckles he knew like the constellations, until the breath in his lungs was more Ice’s than his.

“Do have one…one small note…” he panted against Ice’s lips, “Any room in that schedule for you to rock my world, sweetheart?”

Ice flashed the smile that had been making Mav’s knees weak since the eighties and probably would still when they were in their eighties, “I’ll make time to do it twice...”

Maverick’s head fell back against the pillows, his grin crooked and wholly his own, “God, I love you…”

“I love you too, Pete Mitchell…” Ice left him with a kiss on the cheek before moving down his body.

The world became the warmth of the morning sun on his bare skin, the comforting weight of Ice against him, the brush of his lips trailing from his neck to his chest to his stomach to the inside of his thighs. A world he could feel comfortable in, one made with a space for him, one that Ice had given him and he’d earned himself.

There were two places where he was still Pete Mitchell. One was his nightmares, where it was a way to cut him down, to send him spinning in free fall without his wings and shatter on the ground

The other place was in Tom Kazansky’s arms. And there it was only because Ice loved every single part of him, he would put him back together and not change a single thing. He could be Pete Mitchell, he could wear the name he’d been given before he knew he was a man. He could be Lieutenant, he could be Captain, he could be wearing whatever name and Ice would see the same person and love him the same.

Pete Mitchell took a breath and started looking forward.

#icemav #top gun #top gun fic #tg86 #tgm #pete mitchell #tom kazansky #iceman #maverick #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #please reblog and comment!

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