#86 flyboys

[hang-a-roo]

All the married flyboys probably picked Mav up by his armpits to show their wives the " stray kitten Viper let them keep".

Merlin, holding Mav: Look honey! This is the stray kitten!:D

Merlins wife: …Dear, that’s an adult man.

Mav: PUT ME DOWN-!

[indynerdgirl]

You can't tell me Bradley didn't do this at least once with Mav and the 86 Flyboys when he was growing up. 😭❤️

Also, this is one thousand percent something one of the Dagger Squad kids would also do (definitely after Bradley tells the story of doing this with his uncles) and every single one of the guys would show up for their nephew. 🥰🥰

@roosterforme @anniesocsandgeneralstore This especially reminds me of several of your fics. ❤️

[torchflies]

Chapter 2 is up! ❤️ — edited 4/23/24

“He reaches out a hand in a sudden spark of loneliness, fumbling around in the sea of fabric and buttons that span their father’s broad chest — still wearing the black ribbon that Rabbi had torn for him — before he finally finds Tomek’s, his brother’s identical little fingers raised and fluttering about too.

They had both been reaching out, but still missed each other every time they tried to meet.

It’s almost prophetic in a way: how hard they stretched, bumped, and fumbled to find one another, only to miss again and again by trying so hard.

Sometimes, as they will learn with time, life teaches that you can try so hard, hold on so tight, that the very thing you’re trying so hard to keep — doesn’t stay.”

(The life and times of The Kazansky Twins).

I wrote a new thing! Iceman gets an identical twin brother, a little sister and a history that he has to reckon with.

[kazanskys-mitchell]

Any Headcannons about the Top Gun class of 1986?

the ‘86 flyboys, my loves 🥹

i do have a few!!

my favorite one is that merlin officially becomes mav’s RIO. after flying the rescue mission together, they become closer and decide they want to continue flying together

slider pretends that he can’t stand mav but really thinks that mav is a fun person to hang out with

all of them have regular karaoke nights. if ice drinks enough he participates, but it’s mostly mav, hollywood, and wolfman doing the singing. slider will sometimes join in

mav is an enabler, if one of the boys wants to do something stupid, he encourages it

slider is to ice what goose is to mav. they’ve been besties since before top gun and continue to be for years after

all of the boys come up with an elaborate plan to get ice and mav together. i feel like hollywood and wolfman would take the lead on it

i feel like chipper and mav are absolute hooligans. they do dumb shit and all the others are entertained by it

they throw wild house parties. it’s just the small group of them but the parties get absolutely out of hand. 100% the cops have been called a few times on them

they all step in to help carole raise bradley after what happened to goose. they’re just a big group of uncles for bradley and they would do anything for him

this one was super fun!

[tngrace]

Cry, Baby

Story inspired by real life events and this song, “Cry Baby” by Mitchell Tenpenny.

I have to thank my discord babes so much for listening to me the last couple of days, and for reading over this last night when I wrote it like a madwoman that just had to get it out. There might be more stories for Spicy & Roo one day in the future; I truly loved writing them & I hope yall enjoy it. 

Discord babes: @callsign-dragonbaron @mrsjaderogers @bayisdying @biehnybaby @askmarinaandothers @mischief-siriusly-managed @cycbaby @callsignscupcake @breadsquash

Grace “Spicy” Bradshaw stared at the shower floor as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She was using the water to muffle the sounds of her sobs so they didn’t wake her husband just yet. Bradley had to be up in an hour to go to class, and she wanted to let him sleep as long as possible. She’d been so hopeful that today would bring the news they’d been hoping for, but instead it just brought the same disappointment the last year and a half has brought. She felt like she was letting Bradley down tremendously, and truthfully she wanted to tell him he deserved better.  

She should’ve known he’d come find her when she was up earlier than expected, but it still surprised her when the door opened. “Spice? Babe? You’re up early?”

She quickly wipes her eyes and clears her throat; “Yea, yea I woke up early. Decided to just go ahead and get ready. Didn’t mean to get you up so early.”

“Mind if I join?”

She sucks in a deep breath and holds it; she turns her face into the spray despite knowing her eyes will be red and puffy anyways. “Yea, come on in.”

Bradley gets in behind her and pulls her back into his chest. His chin rests on top of her head as he holds her, letting the warm spray wash over them. “Grace,” he whispers. He only uses her real name when it’s something serious, always using her nickname or some version of it. Slider had given her the nickname based on the food and spice level of it when she took over the grill at the Hard Deck ten years ago.

She sinks into his hold, biting her lip hard enough to almost draw blood. “Talk to me baby.” She shakes her head no as more tears fall down her cheeks.

“I …. Can’t. I…. I just knew this time was going to be different.”

Bradley’s arms tighten around her; he knows right then that despite thinking she’d finally gotten pregnant, she had in fact not. “We’ll just keep trying.”

“Bradley…. You….”

“Don’t say it Grace. Don’t say I deserve better.” He finally spins her, but her eyes drop to his chest and his dog tags unable to meet his eyes. He gently tips her chin up, and her eyes close, tears sneaking out around her lids. He cradles her face between both of his large hands, his thumbs gently wiping the tears away.

“Open your beautiful eyes, Spicy.”

Her breath shudders out, but her eyes slowly open to meet the chocolate brown ones she loves so much. “I love you, and only you. I want you, and only you. If this is all we have, just me and you, we will be ok. But we also still have options. We’re going to try those meds and if that doesn’t work, then we look at other possibilities. I know for a fact if we went to Dad, Uncle Ice, any of the many Uncles and Aunts in our family, we could have the help to make any option possible. This sucks, I know; I know you’re feeling crushed, and today is going to be rough and full of lots of tears. But you, my dear beautiful girl, are all I want, so don’t tell me to find anyone else.”

Spicy collapses against his chest and just cries as he holds her as tight as possible, letting the water keep them warm. Bradley holds her tight, murmuring over and over how much he loves her, how much he’s there for her, how much she can cry to him anytime. Once the water starts cooling off, he washes her hair and runs some conditioner through it before quickly scrubbing his own while she stays wrapped around him. Once they’re both clean, he wraps a towel around his waist and goes to the bedroom to get dressed, letting her have the bathroom to do what she needs. She takes a few minutes to try and compose herself, but it doesn’t work. The tears don’t seem to want to stop. She slips into a pair of shorts and one of Bradley’s t-shirts she’d grabbed on her way to the bathroom that morning.

He’s sitting on the side of the bed waiting on her. She carefully settles in his lap, facing him, with her legs around his waist. She rests her head under his chin, her fingers tangling in his dog tags. “You’re going to make the best Dad one day, and I wish I could make that happen for you, more than anything,” she whispers.

His arms rub up and down her back as he holds her close. “We’re going to get that one day, I promise you, Spicy girl.”

They stayed cuddled like that until Bradley has to get ready for class. He tucks Spicy into bed, “Text me or call me if you need anything today. And I’m sure Pen can manage just fine if you don’t want to go in tonight.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be ok. I’m not going to cancel on her last minute. I’ll be fine once I’m distracted.”

“Promise me if you’re not, you’ll stay here or come get me.”

She gives him a soft smile and a kiss. “I promise Roo. Now go before you’re late.”

Bradley reluctantly leaves; he wants to text his dad or his uncles to go check on her later, but he also knows what it’s meant to her to keep this a secret to keep the pressure lower on them. He’s glad he doesn’t have a hop that day because his head stays with his girl all day.

Spicy spends the morning in bed, and heads into the Hard Deck around lunch. Penny can tell something is wrong, but she also doesn’t push. She texts Bradley to see what’s going on, but all he’ll tell her is to keep an eye on her. Spicy spends the majority of the day in the kitchen, and when Bradley arrives after class, waving to his uncles and dad in the back corner, he heads straight into the kitchen to check on her.

“Roo,” she smiles, leaning up for a kiss. The kitchen hasn’t been too busy that day, and Bradley can tell she’d deep cleaned everything to keep her mind busy.

“Ready for a break? Dad, Ice, Sli, Chip, Wolf and Wood have the back corner claimed.”

“Roo, I…”

“Penny says you’ve been in here all day, and the kitchen is sparkling.” Spicy sighs as she leans into Roo’s embrace.

“You’re right I’ve been hiding. But I’ve been thinking. Your insurance covered the tests and meds, and I know it’s been a lot on you not sharing with everyone.”

“Grace..”

“No, let me finish.” At Bradley’s nod she continues. “We’ve gotten lucky not having to pay for what we’ve done so far, but if this doesn’t work, we could be forking out more money than we need to on our own. We don’t know how much longer we’re going to be on this journey. You’re a very open person with your family, and I love that. And I know I’ve had you keeping this a secret, and I know there are times you’ve wished you could talk to someone about it. So maybe we should tell them.”

Bradley wraps her in his arms. “You’re just doing this for me, and I know it.”

“I do everything for you Bradley Nicholas. I’d give you the whole world if I could.”

“I’d do the same for you Grace Michelle.” Spicy leans up and kisses Bradley soundly. She lets him take her apron off and hang it up, before telling her assistant that she was done for the night. Spicy wrapped her hand in his, and let him pull her to the back corner where their family was waiting.

Spicy takes the open seat beside Mav, Bradley’s dad instantly pulling her into a side hug, while Bradley pulls up a stool on her other side. As per usual they start off by complimenting the snacks she’d sent their way, before they observe them both. Bradley is telling them about his class that day, but it’s Slider who picks up on Spicy’s quietness. It’s almost like she was still the shy girl they’d met when she’d moved there, instead of the confident outgoing girl she’d become in her ten years in San Diego. He shoots a look at Ice and then Mav before turning his attention back to her.

“B, you’re rambling,” Ice finally says, all of them catching the soft sigh he lets out.

“Yea… Yea I am.” He laces his hand with Spicy’s, giving it a squeeze, before he meets six pairs of worried eyes.

“I’ve had him keeping a secret from yall,” Spicy says, before Bradley can say anything.

“Grace…”

“No B, it’s true.” She finally looks around the table. “We’ve been trying for a baby for a year and a half now, and I didn’t want him to tell anyone because I knew it wouldn’t be easy for us to get pregnant because of me. I didn’t want anyone to get their hopes up just to be crushed over and over.”

She feels Mav’s arm sling across her shoulder and squeeze her tight to his side. He’s been like a dad to her ever since she started dating Roo and realized he was essentially Bradley’s dad too. “Oh kiddo,” he sighs, placing a kiss on her head. Bradley doesn’t let go of her hand, but doesn’t miss how she practically melts into the hug.

She takes another steadying breath and pulls herself upright once more. “My doctor ran some tests about a couple of weeks ago, and in two days I’m going to be starting meds. If after three months they haven’t helped, then we have to either look at other options or give up. This… This morning was rough and there were a lot of tears, but I’ve spent the majority of the afternoon hiding in the kitchen and cleaning and thinking. I know it’s been hard on B keeping this a secret from yall and everyone basically, so I decided we needed to confess.”

In the next instant she is pulled up off the stool into a crushing group hug from their family. Bradley is wrapped in one next, before everyone settles back into their seats. Spicy laughs as she wipes tears off her cheeks, laying her head on Bradley’s shoulder, giving his hand a squeeze. “We’re here for anything, we mean anything, you two might need. No matter how big or small.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Bradley smiles over Spicy’s head. He knew they’d be understanding, but he also understood Spicy’s fears. They spend the next hour explaining her health woes and what all her doctor has recommended. When Spicy starts falling asleep, worn out from all her cleaning and emotional turmoil, Bradley pulls her into his lap.

“Get her home son. We can talk more when you’re both ready,”  Mav promises.

“Thanks Dad.” Bradley scoops her up carefully, Ice following him to help with doors, promising to bring her car home for them. Spicy never stirs, and once home, Bradley tucks her into bed.

Three months later

Spicy is staring at the sink, not moving, not blinking, not even really breathing. The knock on the door startles her enough to cause her jump and squeak. “Spicy? You ok love?”

She opens the door, and Bradley instantly assumes she’s started, late, again. “Oh baby, we can…” but that’s as far as he gets before she’s jumping up and kissing him. He instantly catches her, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“Spice?”

“Roo it finally worked,” she whispers, staring into those chocolate eyes. “It worked! Congratulations Daddy.”

“You’re serious?”

She points at the sink, where five positive pregnancy tests lay. “I’ve done one every morning for the last five days because I didn’t believe them. We’re finally having a baby.”

A week later when they finally have an ultrasound to confirm, they learn that one of the major side effects from the meds happened; they’re having twins. Two and half months pass before Spicy is comfortable telling everyone. Mav and all the uncles knew because Bradley had been way too excited not to tell them, but they’d all kept the secret like she’d asked. Now that she’s showing and well into her second trimester, the ‘86 flyboys plan a huge party at the Hard Deck to celebrate. Spicy and Roo are showered in so much love and excitement, that all the pain of trying slowly melts away. She can’t wait to see Bradley as a daddy and all their family being wrapped around the babies’ fingers.

[paxny]

Crack fic idea where instead of dogfight football, Mav makes the dagger squad do an obstacle course like on the game show Wipeout

[mafiatsunafish]

After watched enough Top Gun 1986 and saw Mav’s manic grin in half of the film. I feel like I know why Christian Bale based Patric Bateman in American Psycho on Tom Cruise. Because, it’s scary af

(Goose: Mav, why are you looking like that?

Mav who still have that ginning face after walked out of Jester’s office: like what ☺️?)

(86s Flyboys after saw Mav’s infamous grin for the first time: Goose? Goooseeeee??? Is that normal!!???

Goose sighing: Unfortunately, yes

Slider: Great, now we both have short stick’s grin and Ice’s shark like smile)

(The daggers after saw Rooster’s grin which unfortunately also took after Mav’ manic grin and Ice’c shark smile: Are you sure you’re call sign is Rooster and not any other predators????

Rooster: noooo?)

[carousel-crows]

In honor of ✨ pride month ✨, have some more domestic icemav headcanons!!!!

i have mentioned it before, but i believe Ice to have slavic origins, either russian or polish. he incorporates a lot of his culture into his cooking and his lifestyle. he introduces his cooking to mav (and little bradley), and if mav wasn't in love then, he fell after that. 

mav and bradley help in the kitchen to learn the dishes and carole is sure to send recipes with bradley every time they watch him. 

when she dies and bradley goes to live with mav permanently, all her recipes are given to him. it's bittersweet for all of them. Bradley is torn between wanting his mother’s cooking and not wanting to miss her. ice and mav want to help him hold onto her, but struggle with accepting that these recipes won't be made by her ever again.

ice loves to spoil mav with gifts. clothes, treats, trinkets. mav didn't really have a lot of stuff to call his own growing up, so getting things that are his, only his, is extremely special. 

despite common belief, mav is not the main mechanic/handyman of the house. sure, he does his own bike repairs, but ice does most of the rest: light fixtures, plumbing, engine repairs, etc. 

tom, on more than one occasion, has quoted a russian proverb casually. it does not make sense to anyone in the room but him. when he tries to explain, it usually only serves to confuse people more. pete tends to tease him about it, but he knows tom’s doing his best.

before meeting tom’s mother formally, pete insisted that tom teach him some russian phrases. tom refuses, saying that pete doesn't need to change to get on his mother's good side.

 pete then hunts down slider, who learned russian for tom. slider sides with ice, but teaches pete a few phrases after he assures slider it's only to show respect.

after carole dies, pete and tom get bradley a therapy dog. Rocco, a pitbull-border collie mix, ends up being helpful to all of them, as well as comforting any visitors who may need it.

the flyboys help out with bradley. going to sports events, birthday parties, even financial support when they can. 

mav and tom rarely sleep in due to military conditioning, but when they're tired enough, they can sleep for up to 14 hours consecutively.

they 100% got a couch with a hide-a-bed. they use it for visitors, party nights, sleepovers, and giant cuddle sessions.

the seriousness of their relationship didn't really set in for pete until Bradley's first day of school. ice was there the whole time, helping him make breakfast, tying bradley's shoes, hugging him goodbye. They were truly this kid’s parental figures. and they loved each other and him

[k9effect]

Would anyone be interested if I made a bunch of little profile pictures of top gun characters for you all to use freely? If so, drop some characters you'd like to see in the tags!

[callsignthirsty]

Chapter 3: Behind the Door

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron "Slider" Kerner Summary: Interrupting Iceman. Word Count: 4100 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, semi-public sex, fingering Chapter: 3/4 Minors DNI Previous Chapter

Slider's head whips around, shoulders drawn tight toward his ears as the crash of the door startles you both.

"Kerner!"

The split-second of terror subsides with that voice.

Ice.

Slider grunts, stubbornly diving back between your thighs. A man on a mission.

"I know you're up here, and I'm giving you to the count of three."

"No," you whimper, hips rocking against Slider's fingers, urging them to work faster. "Don't stop."

"One."

Instead of responding, Slider's breath ghosts over your clit as he presses two fingers into your cunt, curling them to pinpoint your sweet spot and hurtle you toward the edge.

The click of Ice's shoes is loud as he stalks toward you. "Two."

"So good," Slider hums against your slick skin. You squeeze your eyes closed, keening at the praise. "Almost there, baby."

Sli hisses as fingers fist in his short hair and yank him from between your legs.

"Three."

You whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation and the pour of cool night air over heated skin.

Slider has the audacity to flash Ice a smug smile. "Oh," he says as if he hadn't known the two of you were no longer alone. "Hey, Ice."

Pale eyes narrow as if asking Slider if that's the game they're going to play, then Ice pulls a tissue from his pocket and holds it to his RIO. "You've got lipstick on your face."

Slider's tongue peeks out to lick his lips. "That's not the only thing on my face."

Ice doesn't dignify him with a response, only releasing Slider when he stands and steps back to give you enough space for Ice to resettle you—steadying you on your own two feet and smoothing wrinkled velvet before procuring another tissue to help clean up the rouge smudged beyond the bounds of your lips.

Once you're deemed presentable, Ice descends the steps with his hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you with an insistent tug that makes you feel more like an insolent child than his date. You want to stamp your feet as Ice assures you that he only needs to talk to a couple more officers he wants to speak with before you can get out of there.

Between the forced separation through staggered travel to D.C. and the night's two encounters—both of which had taken you to the very edge before leaving you high and dry—you're at your limit. So, to say you aren't paying attention to the conversation is an understatement. How are you supposed to pay attention to anything when you're oscillating between the jitters of unsated arousal and lightly filtered frustration?

Because who the hell does he think he is—do they think they are—to draw you into their little macho pissing contest? It's a wonder Iceman and Slider can both fit into the cockpit with their egos so blown out of proportion.

What should it matter in the end? They know you're going home with both of them.

Not that you get to say any of this. Instead, you're left to stew with empty eyes, a pinched smile, and a clenched fist at Ice's side as he makes a good impression on a commander. You're scraping the barrel with each half-hearted laugh at the officer's dull jokes, the Brut in your glass swirling between your fingers untouched. Each shift of your legs brings you closer to angry tears as the spit between them turns tacky, the microabrasions from Slider's stubble smarts reminding you of your lack of undergarment and the dissatisfied, borderline painful feeling of emptiness.

But it'll be a cold day in hell before you let any tears fall. You have your own pride to manage, and besides, no one wants to mingle with the serviceman whose date's eyes burn a tear-stung red.

"How much longer?" you ask Ice once the commander leaves.

Ice gives you an assessing look, eyebrows pulled down, and his head lightly tilted. You can't tell if he feels bad about what he's putting you through or is confused by your shortness of tone. "Impatient?"

You scoff, barely repressing the urge to cross your arms. Instead, you take a sip of your Brut, nose wrinkling as it bursts bitter across your tongue. "Whatever," you huff, done with the conversation and resigning yourself to more of the same. Ice had said there were "a couple" officers he wanted to talk with, after all.

Ice draws a deep breath in through his nose; lips pursed as he looks up to the ceiling. You know he's looking for the right words. You're still determining what those words would be. You know for a fact he won't find them painted on the ceiling.

Lucky for you—because you're not done being upset with him yet—Ice can't pinpoint what he's looking for before you're interrupted.

"Woah!" a familiar blonde excuses, bumbling into Ice and nearly spilling his beer on matching whites. "Sorry about that, still got my sea le– oh! Ice, hey!" Excuse dropped as a beamish grin overtakes Wolfman's face, cheeks tinged pink with drink.

"Wolf," you giggle as Wolf pulls you into a better mood with a friendly hug. It's hard to be all doom and gloom when Wolf's involved; he's a veritable ray of sunshine. "Where's 'Wood?"

"Pfft," he snorts. "Where's anyone? I mean, 'Wood's somewhere with his girl, but one minute I'm with Sli and Chip, the next Sli's gone and Chip's found himself a pretty little thing to dance with." He shrugs, not looking too plussed about his situation.

"I'll dance with you, Wolfie," you jump to offer. "Ice is being boring anyway."

Ice frowns. Wolf laughs. "Who am I to say no to a lady?" he asks, pulling you into an off-kilter twirl. "Don't worry, Ice, she's in good hands!" he calls over his shoulder as you practically drag him toward the dancefloor.

What Wolfman lacks in prowess, he makes up for in enthusiasm. By the time Hollywood and his fiancée find the two of you on the dancefloor—not a surprise since 'Wood and Wolf are practically connected at the hip—you're a little breathless from trying to keep up.

It's a good time, but you can only be so distracted, and it's only a matter of time before you begin scanning the crowd. Either you'll find Slider, or he'll find you, but you'll be damned if he doesn't finish what he started.

You know Ice has people he wants to impress and a ladder he's trying to climb, but shouldn't you be at the top of his list? With this thought at the helm, it isn't long before you spot a head of brown curls that towers above the rest. You rock onto your tiptoes to feed Wolf a lie—bathroom—and push through the crowd alone.

Except as you get closer, it becomes glaringly apparent that this tall brunet is not Slider.

You scowl at no one in particular when you come up empty-handed.

As you decide to keep searching until you find Slider—and, ultimately, relief—someone grabs you from behind.

You whirl around, ready to smack the person's hands off of you.

It's Pete.

You smack him anyway.

"Ow!" Pete yelps, more from surprise than pain. You didn't hit him that hard. "What the hell?!"

"Pete Mitchell, who do you think you are grabbing a lady–"

"You're hardly a lady."

"–from behind like that. You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Pete disarms you with a light pinch to your side that has you clamping your arms against your sides to protect against further tickling. "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum? Didn't think I'd catch you without one or the other."

You suppress a roll of your eyes. "Who knows."

"Sooo," Pete drawls a bit awkwardly, "does this have anything to do with the weirdness going on between the three of you?"

"Oh my god. You know," you groan, unable to stop yourself from hiding your face in your hands. How embarrassing.

"I don't know-know," Pete's quick to correct, "and I don't want to. But I know something's up."

This isn't something you're delving into with your brother. "It's nothing. Forget it."

"Doesn't seem like nothing if you're avoiding them."

"Like you're avoiding Penny's dad?" you snark back. Deflecting. "I'm surprised you decided to stick around."

"He's old. It's probably past his bedtime," Pete says confidently, a smile tugging at his lips. "The night's mine."

"Whatever will you do with this newfound freedom?" you tease.

Pete gives a half-shrug, surveying the room. "I'm sure some poor officer brought his daughter so she could meet the love of her life."

You don't bother holding in a mocking laugh. "And that's you?"

"No." Pete makes a face. "But I can be her something for the night."

"Ew," you grunt because you so do not want to get into that with your brother. "I need a drink."

A hand catches your elbow as you turn. "Going somewhere?"

You refuse to look as you shake Ice's hand off and continue walking.

"So you're going to ignore me." It's a statement.

"Don't you have other people to talk to?"

Ice reaches for your elbow again, turning you so he can meet your eyes with his own. "I want to talk to you."

"That's my cue," Pete mumbles as he slinks into the crowd, presumably to find trouble.

Neither you nor Ice move, and your stomach roils as his jaw sets, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You're mad at me."

Part of you wants to tell him off. Instead, you shake your head. "I'm not mad. I'm frustrated."

"Okay," Ice says, with a curt nod, his shoulders—which had been bunched—rolling back as he becomes more sure of himself. "I can work with that."

Something about the way he says it rankles you, and you sneer. Earlier, you'd been all aboard hanging off Ice's arm, but now you're wound tight enough to burst, and all you want to do is take a hot bath. And now that he's made you this way, you're something that needs to be dealt with.

"Let's grab some fresh air," Ice says, loud enough to settle any eavesdroppers as he leads you toward the outdoor courtyard with a gentle but commanding grasp on your elbow.

But you pass by the turn for the courtyard.

"Where are you taking me?" The smell of cigar smoke thins as you walk along less-traveled hallways.

"I'm taking care of it," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and continues to drag you after him.

Venturing further from the intended party spaces, the lights dim. You doubt the venue means for you to be down here.

Instead of voicing these thoughts, you scoff. "Helpful."

Making sure you're alone, Ice pulls you down a deserted hallway. "You're frustrated. I have people to talk to," he says slowly, sparing you a glance.

You frown. There goes Ice, talking about other people. Again.

He beelines for two unassuming doors, reaching out to the first, but its handle jiggles. Catches. Locked.

"I'm taking care of it."

Before you can challenge that assertion, Ice steps to the side and grabs the handle to the second door, marked STAFF ONLY.

It clicks.

Ice pushes you inside, following close behind.

The light coming through the foot of the door isn't enough to tell you where you are. But the clinical, electric-orange antiseptic smell of cleaning supplies invading your nose, singeing the hairs, is more than enough to give it away.

When you cross your arms over your chest, something falls to the ground with a wooden clack! "By dragging me into a janitor's closet?"

"Well, you said you'd be good for me, but that didn't last long."

You reach for where the handle must be, but Ice anticipates your moodiness and moves to intercept, deflecting your hand. "But the bet was that Slider couldn't get you off." His breath fans your face as he leans in, so you tilt your head away to avoid his lips. Stubborn. Undeterred, he kisses the long line of your neck, and the ghost of soft lips has you holding back a gasp. "So I'm taking care of it."

"What if it doesn't want to be taken care of?"

Sharp teeth are a shock beneath the hinge of your jaw. "Don't be a brat."

A strangled moan trips past your lips as he catches you off guard.

You don't have to see Ice to know he's smirking. "Noted." Then his hand is cupping your breast. "So, are you going to let me take care of you or not?"

You're not proud of how quickly you crumble, but it's like a switch flips. You hope Ice is okay with the whiplash because after an entire night of teasing, you're desperate for relief. "Please," you whimper, pushing yourself further into his orbit. You want so bad it hurts.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I've got you." Ice captures your lips in a heated kiss—nipping at your bottom lip so you hiss and open up for him. He knows what you need, and he's (apparently) going to give it to you.

Your fingers, clumsy in their haste, scramble for Ice's belt, but he brushes them aside. "This is about you. I'll get mine later," he says, tilting your head to the side so he can track wet kisses up to the spot just below your ear, electricity sparking down your spine as teeth tug at the lobe. "When I lay you out on my bed."

A high-pitched, excited moan is your answer, interrupted by Ice's fingers over your lips. "You've gotta be quiet," he purrs, voice low in your ear. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear us."

"Then kiss me." He does. And as you breathe in deep, the whole situation makes you feel like you're back in high school: shelving digging into your lower back like you're sneaking around, trading uncoordinated kisses in the janitor's closet with David Hodges until your brother finds you and rips poor David away for an ass-beating. But infinitely better.

Ice's lips are familiar. Urgent and addictive against your own as he swallows your whimper—nothing like David.

Ice pinches your fat bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it with a slick smack. You suck in a sharp breath, lashes fluttering open to look up at the shadow of him in the dark. "So pretty," he growls, fabric rustling as he hastily cuffs the sleeve of his jacket and pushes it up to his elbow to keep it safe from what he has planned.

Handfuls of velvet are bunched around your waist so you can spread your legs more freely, and Ice can slot his hand between them.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you return his lips to yours. You both groan from the kiss—you from the relief of his hands on you, the promise of a sweet release; him from how wet and needy you are (Slider's work, really, but Ice seems keen to reap the benefits).

When you break apart to gasp for air, Ice husks, "I'd get my mouth on you." And it conjures the image of Slider's wicked brown eyes looking up at you from between your legs, your cunt throbs. God, you want that. "Too bad I can't smell like pussy while I'm talking to the brass." But he allows himself the indulgence of a single taste, bringing fingers slick with your arousal to his lips.

You shake your head, unsure if his eyes have adjusted enough to see you. "Unprofessional," you agree, dizzy as his fingers plunge back into your heat. The heel of his palm grinds deliciously against your clit, his fingers working with the frantic cant of your hips as you chase a high that's walking the line of pain in its evasion of you. A steady, unignorable ache.

Ice drags his nails over the dense fabric covering your tits, your nipples pebbling at the faux cool sensation. "Tell me what you need," he whispers against your lips.

Relief is so close the air is thick with it. It tastes like Lysol. You stutter out a breath, and it morphs into a quiet whine. "Just like that," you mewl. "Keep touching me like that."

"Yeah?" Ice teases, a third finger sneaking into you and zeroing in on your sweet spot, thumb coming up to rub circles into your clit. What little light there is in the closet glints off the sharp point of his teeth as his lips part. "You're going to cum on my fingers," he declares, and your heart skips a beat when it jumps into your throat. "Then, you're going to go back to being my good, pretty girlfriend while I talk business," he presses a teasing kiss to the corner of your lips, and you can't contain a needy, lilting whine, "and no one will know you needed to cum on my fingers just to make it through the night."

"Oh god," you sob, nails digging into the starched fabric of Ice's jacket. You're right there. Liquid flames lick at your core, your tummy tied in knots and thighs jumpy as Ice speeds up his fingers, a muffled squelch each time his fingers bottom out, knuckles pressed tight to your cunt.

The two of you are so distracted that you don't hear the frantic footsteps until they're almost on top of you.

Ice jerks his fingers from you, yanking your dress back into place at the same time as he steps between you and the door to the closet, blocking you from whoever's about to fling the door open.

But it doesn't stop your eyes from meeting your brother's over his shoulder.

Pete slams the door shut.

Silence. Then: "You still dressed?"

Posture going rigid, Ice shoots the door a barbed look. "Maverick–" Pete shushes him through the door. He must be pressed up against the wood. Ice gives in but doesn't give up, continuing with a more hushed, "–what the hell?"

A pause. "That's not a no," your brother mulls. "Scoot over. I'm coming in."

"No!" You and Ice hiss simultaneously, but Pete is already squeezing himself into the closet with the two of you, pressed tight against Ice's back as he shuts the door firmly but with as much care as he gives his Kawasaki.

"Look," Pete whispers, and maybe his hands would be up in a placating manner if there were enough room, "I either hide in here with you two or hack it out there with Admiral Benjamin."

Without the distraction of each other, you and Ice hear far more measured footsteps hesitate at the far end of the hall before heading in your direction.

"I like your chances," Ice bites. "Leave."

Pete jostles all three of you as he turns to get into Ice's face as much as he can, given the confines of the closet. A shelf creaks, but nothing falls. "Well, it won't look good on you either," he whispers furiously. "Huh? Ice-cold, no mistakes, making out with your date in a closet like you're at junior pr–" Ice slaps a hand over his mouth, and the three of you fall deathly still.

The tension thickens until the footsteps pass you by.

No one dares to let out a quiet, adrenaline-shaken breath, even when the footsteps sound like they must have reached the other end of the hallway. Pete does, however, allow his shoulders to sag in relief.

Then, the footsteps pause.

They grow closer—louder—once more. This time, the muffled chaf of dress shoes on the carpet sounds like it's purposefully approaching the closet. Each step ratchets the tension up exponentially. You hold still, certain that if you shift your weight, something on the open shelving will give away your location. Ice, still shielding you from the door, brings a hand up to pet the back of your neck; the cool metal of his Academy ring—grounding any other time—sends a nervous trickle down your spine.

Benjamin is obviously after Pete, but how bad will it look that the two of you are in the closet with him?

There's a mechanical squeal of metal catching, handle turning, getting stuck. Jiggle. A grunt as he encounters the locking mechanism of the next door over.

Two shadows block the ambient light at the bottom of the door.

Well, you pinch your eyes closed. This will be embarrassing.

"Admiral Benjamin," someone calls from further away.

"Ah," the response comes uncomfortably close to your door. "Lieutenant…?"

"Kerner, sir." Slider. "I was with Lieutenant Kazansky earlier. Did you ever find Mitchell?

Two quick raps on the door. Pete flinches. "I believe I have." And Admiral Benjamin sounds smug.

The statement hangs in the air.

"In a closet, sir?" You can see the skeptical raise of Slider's brow in your mind's eye.

The shadow shifts. "I'm sure he came this way."

"Well, I just saw his RIO headed toward the taxis." A pause. "He's a slippery little shit. If he was here, he's long gone by now."

"Hm." Admiral Benjamin doesn't move, but from the sound of things, neither does Slider. "Well, Lieutenant. Really good stuff on the Enterprise."

Slider thanks him as the shadows disappear from the doorway and footsteps hurry off on a Goose chase.

When you're sure the admiral has left the vicinity—thankfully not asking Slider why he decided to stick around—Pete stumbles out of the closet with all the grace of a baby giraffe but none of the height. "Aw, Kerner," he teases with a dopey grin, "you do like me."

Slider snorts. "Don't thank me yet. The Geese are waiting for a taxi."

Pete's chin falls to his chest, and he mumbles a "goddammit" before hurrying to see if he can avoid Admiral Benjamin by sneaking through the courtyard.

"They're not the only ones," Slider tells Ice, nodding in the general direction of what remains of the Ball's attendees. "If you want to talk to anyone else, now's the time."

But as you practically tremble between them, Ice looks at you—really looks at you—and his features soften. He cups your shoulder, offering but not pulling you into his side. "I think I've networked enough for one night," he declares, tone light. His thumb rubbing back and forth, soothing.

Then those gray-blue eyes are on you, and his lips stretch into a slow, soft smile. "No one I can't talk with some other time."

"You sure?" Slider asks. Then, hushed, "I can take care of her while you finish up."

There is quite literally nothing you want less. The venue is clearly cursed, and you don't plan on sticking around long enough to find out what other ways you can get caught or edged tonight. 

"The bet's off," Ice states before you can say 'no,' and your heart flutters. If Ice wasn't going to stick around for one last round of shoulder-rubbing, then winning was only a matter of getting you in a taxi.

For his part, Slider doesn't seem as shocked as you are by Ice's declaration.

Ice feathers a kiss to your temple before you can second-guess his decision. It's the most relaxed you've seen him all evening. "Let's get you a taxi."

"Wait." Slider pushes off the wall. He procures a key from his pocket and presses it into Ice's hand. "Holiday Inn. K Street. Leave in 10 minutes."

Ice fiddles with the thick plastic of the keychain but pays it no real mind.

"Don't give me that look," Slider boos.

Ice licks his lips. "You know our rooms were comped, right?" It's a perk of being summoned to the event, you're sure.

Slider takes a half step forward, the three of you the closest you've been all night. From this distance, Ice has to look up ever so slightly to meet Slider's cocky gaze. "You want to what?" he asks, voice going deep and quiet enough no one else could hear if they happened by you. "Pile into a single room at the same hotel everyone else is staying at?" He motions between the three of you. "How's that going to work?"

Some like to write Slider off as all muscle, no brain. But it's his job to see things others don't—things Ice doesn't. He knew they couldn't take you back to their fancy hotel rooms even before he came to the event tonight. The safest solution had been to shell out for a lesser room somewhere you were less likely to turn heads.

"She isn't exactly known for being quiet," Sli stresses.

Ice ponders the key for long seconds before he pockets it with a nod.

Slider smirks. "That's what I thought."

[orchidvk]

Just thought I share some headcanons of my favorite fighter pilot Iceman :D

I have some Fanfiction on AO3 and some of them already have some of these headcanons in them or mention them so I thought I just share them with all of you ^^

I hope you enjoy them <3

- Has Russian heritage but was born the US, in Honolulu. Grew up in California

- His Babushka fled to America with her son, her husband died in Russia and never saw the US himself

- Ice has two sisters and two brothers ( I'm an IceMav shipper so I go with the headcanon that Sarah is his sister)

- He is the oldest and very protective of his siblings

- I also go with Val Kilmer's way and say that Iceman's father is not a great guy, pressuring his son into perfection but never being satisfied with any accomplishments

- Ice has a good relationship with his mother and siblings

- Adores his babushka and she adores him back, his siblings always tease him for being her favorite ( he denies it but deep inside he knows they're right)

- his babushka always tells him how much he resembles his dedushka

- Ice is a total family guy even though he isn't on good terms with his father, he will always say that family is forever

- is a perfectionist

- can speak Russian fluently

- only the women in his family can get away with calling him "Tommy"

- loves to read and has so many books, he could drown in them

- loves the movie "Airplane!"

- secretly loves singing but would never admit it

- loves to cook and bake

- his house the most clean space the flyboys have ever seen

- is also confusing the shit out of his guest by having the trashcan under the sink

- is a total animal magnet and he loves animals as well

- knows how to ride horses

- definitely played waterpolo in his teenage years

- Ice cold? Not when you know him and are in his inner circle. He loves physical attention, he loves to cuddle and he loves hugs but only from people that are really close to him

- has a huge sweet tooth but never tells anybody

- Needed to learn that his feelings and wants are just as valid as everyone else's (mav helped him a lot with that)

- was an A student in school ( caused by the pressure of his father)

- the first time Mav saw Ice cry was when the man accidentally broke his little finger in the car door

- allergic to coconut

- There is a certain look the Flyboys love to call "The Kazansky Look" because they always see that particular look on Iceman's face when he looks at Mav and funny enough Ice's mother, babushka and brother (who is already married) have the exact same look on their face when they look/ think at/about their significant other

-loves Billy Joel

-loves Slider like a brother and would do anything for him

-buys stuff for Mav and/or his friends/siblings out of the blue to show them how much they mean to him

[indynerdgirl]

This word is 100% the exact definition of one Nicholas 'Goose' Bradshaw. 😆

[storeboughtbrand]

Trinket! Tiny music box, (I don't recognise the melody it's familiar, it has been years since I've seen the music box last)

(Here's a shell for size)

CONGRATULATIONS YOU’VE JUST UNLOCKED: MUSICAL SCENARIO - playing simulation now……

*The Flyboys minus Mav and Goose are at the O Club and have maybe had toooo much to drink 🫠*

Ice: He’s just not getting it, Sli. I’ve tried everything - showed concern for his safety, displayed aerial prowess on par with his, and presented my physical fitness- all characteristics of a great-no-amazing husband! What am I doing wrong?!

Slider: *real tired of his pilot’s bullshit but also determined to be the best wingman* I don’t know what to tell ya, Tom. Maybe you just have to let him g - wait, did you say husband?

Ice: Yes.

Slider: …..you meant boyfriend, right?

Ice: We’re not teenagers, Ron. Boyfriends is such a jovial term. We’d be husbands…*small gasp* - no, we’d be wingmen.

Slider: *turns to look at the other flyboys for help but they’re all munching on popcorn, watching the shit show unfold. Turns back, takes a deep breath, and whispers - I better be your best man at your fucking wedding* Well at this rate, you’re gonna be calling each other nothing *ice glares at him* so we’re gonna need a change in strategy. This is Maverick we’re talking about after all.

Ice: *turns to look at the peanut gallery* Any suggestions because you lot are not allowed to freeload when there’s a mission to complete.

Slider: *mutters* a dumb fucking mission. *then pauses and his eyes widen* oh my god that’s it.

Everyone: What’s it?

Slider: You’re trying to woo, Mav……so maybe it’s time to stop thinking like a Kazansky and start thinking like a Mitchell.

Ice: ….you can’t be serious.

Slider: *shrugs* I mean what do you have to lose…other than Mav’s sweet ass. *walks over to Ice and grabs hold of Ice’s shoulders so he can look him in the eyes* Come on Ice - Don’t think, Just do.

Ice: ……………….

[streetsweepershenanigans]

Out of all the '86 flyboys who became like uncles to little Bradley, it wasn't Mav, it wasn't Slider, it wasn't even Wolf or Wood- who taught him his first swear word, it was Ice He'd done it with his nieces and nephews and little cousins before, so why would Bradley be any different? Of course, he figured one of the others would have beat him to it, but the shocked and speechless look on Maverick's face told him otherwise.

When no one had been looking, he'd quietly beckoned Bradley over with a "Hey, baby Goose, com'ere." When Bradley's little voice had proudly chirped "fuck" over the dinner table, Maverick had immediately choked on his food and dropped his fork while Carole immediately burst out in laughter so contagious, Ice couldn't help but catch on. Mav's pale face and shocked expression only making the situation funnier.

"Carol, I swear- I didn't- I never-" Maverick rushed to defend himself.

"Oh honey, I know. And I know I didn't, which means," Carol turned on Ice then, and damn. He didn't think of that. He figured Maverick would've already pulled the stunt. "Mr. Goody two-shoes, Thomas 'Iceman' Kazansky, is the first person to teach my son a swear word." Carol cackled while pointing and accusing finger at him.

"Ice-" Maverick implored in disbelief.

"Well, I figured-" Ice gestured over to Maverick while struggling to conceal his grin.

The conversation turned from their to all three adult coaching little Bradley on how, yes- that is a word, and no, it's not a very nice one that should ever be used, all while desperately trying to suppress their laughter.

However it was Ice who would suffer the unforseen consequences of his little prank, as over the years, neither Maverick nor Bradley- now proudly Rooster, would ever let him forget that it was Admiral Thomas "Iceman" Kazansky, Commander of the Pacific Fleet who had taught him his first swear word.

[emys-123]

I have this icemav time travel au in my head that I don’t know how to write. So I am going to leave it here. It’s like 86 flyboys somehow ends up in 2022 and it’s been like a week since the 86 icemav met so they are still in their early you’re dangerous/I am dangerous phase.

Imagine their surprise when people in 2022 are going on and on about Mav and Ice being wingmen. Somehow all they hear about is Admiral Kazansky this, Iceman that (maybe they met cyclone first), while the older Mav is just chilling in the corner with a wild grin.

Then they find out icemav’s married with older Mav being all domestic with his Ice (it’s after a pneumonia scare and he’s being extremely protective). The younger Mav is too shocked and outright asks if all he does in future is be Iceman’s house husband which cracks up their older counterparts. Older Ice disagree and argue that he was the house husband waiting for Mav to come back from his missions and has a whole debate about it with his husband.

[lovemadethemdoit]

icemav gilmore girls au. mav is lorelai raising bradley and ice is luke, running the local diner

the 86 flyboys are at ice’s diner every day, watching their man pine for the small feisty single dad who comes in to get his coffee fix, earning a million glares from ice when there’s commentary coming “from the cheap seats”